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>Something’s wrong with Kris.
>Susie sees it the moment she walks into the classroom
>Slumped over his desk, face planted firmly into the sticky, doodle-scarred chipboard
>So limp that it seems like he might flop out of his chair at any moment
>Not that it’s the first time she’s seen him like that, first thing in the morning
>You get your Zs whenever and wherever you can. Susie gets it, of course
>God knows Alphys’s lectures aren’t good for much else
>But usually he perks up at least a little bit when she busts through the door to the classroom, shoots her a shy little smile as she passes
>Not so today.
>In fact, he actually turns away from her
>...Probably. It’s hard to tell where he’s facing when all she can see of his head is a pile of faintly apple-scented hair
>Well, whatever.
>Maybe he’s just extra sleepy today
>But then he ignores her all through class, even when she starts gently nudging the back of his chair with her feet
>Even when she starts nudging it less gently, even when she starts full-on kicking it
>When that fails, she excuses herself to the bathroom and proceeds to spend half the morning on her phone, checking ‘Sans’ website to see if there’s any deals on chocolate
>Something’s wrong.
>She may not know exactly *what* that something is, but it’s clear as the spring sunlight that her guy’s in desperate need of a boost
>So she makes her way back to the classroom, staring at her raggedy sneakers and pondering what she can do to make Kris’s day just a little bit less shitty
>And also about how she’s going to explain a two and a half hour bathroom break to Miss Alphys.
>Susie barely notices when something small and fast smacks into her stomach, watches with mild bemusement as Kris stumbles back a few steps, rubbing his nose
>”Whoops. My bad, man. What’s up, is class over already?”
>Kris mumbles something vaguely affirmative, and Susie grins
>Runs a claw along her chin with a high, thin rasp, like a steak knife scraping a plate
>”Hell yeah. God *damn* I’m good.”
>She was worried her timing might be a little off, but now dealing with her suspiciously-timed absence is a problem for Future Susie
>Or, considering how easy it is to browbeat Alphys, Never Susie
>Susie reaches for Kris’s sleeve
>”C’mon, let’s go hit ‘Sans’. If we leave now, we can be back before anyone notices we’re gone.”
>But he tugs his arm away from her grasp
>”Not today. I’ve got… something else I need to do. See you, Susie.”
>He’s started darting around her side even before he’s finished speaking, but she just barely manages to catch him by the shoulder
>”Hold up. You okay, Kris? You’re looking a little…”
>Kris’s shoulders hunch, and he shivers
>”I’m fine. Just didn’t sleep enough last night.”
>”Dude, you slept all through class. Even I don’t need *that* much sleep.”
>Susie hooks his bangs with one long, sickle-curved talon
>”C’mon. If something’s wrong, then just tell me and-”
>Just an instant
>A glimpse of cotton-pale cheeks, of gloomy shadows under dull red eyes
>”I’m *fine*.”
>Kris barely raises his voice at all
>Just enough to drown the end of her sentence, not even raising an echo in the empty hallway
>And yet she stumbles back, pulls her hand away
>There’s an upsettingly genuine fury there, sizzling under the words.
>She runs a thumb across her palm, nods stiffly
>”...Uh huh. Sorry. Guess I’ll see you later.”
>And with that, she marches off
>Snout stuck firmly in the air, hands in her pockets as she pretends what he said didn’t bother her one bit
>Unaware that her tail is drooping just below the hem of her jacket, showing that it really, really did
>Still, Susie tries to shrug it off
>Everyone has bad days.
>She understands that pretty well, too. Susie has had a whole lot of bad days over the course of her life
>Kris knows that
>After all, she made quite a lot of them his problem
>By comparison, blowing her off like he did is beyond tame
>...But even as she ambles to the shady spot behind the building where they usually hang out and munches on a box of pencils she lifted from the supply closet, she can’t stop thinking about it
>It still bothers her, even though-
>No, because of that, it still bothers her
>Because she still owes him so much
>So because of that, just before lunch is over, she makes her way towards the other classroom
>Shuffling along behind a wave of screaming, cheering children and hoping nobody sees her towering over them
>She leans against the doorway to the classroom as they filter in, as they chatter and bounce in their seats
>Just as she’s about to clear her throat, ask where Miss… Where *Toriel’s* gotten to, she hears a sigh of relief from behind her
>”Susie? Oh thank goodness! Your timing is simply impeccable, dear.”
>Toriel rushes up to her
>There’s a slight flush in her cheeks, visible even through her thick, white fur
>She checks her watch, one fang peeking out from her lips as she frowns
>Is she running late? First time for everything, but that’s not important right now
>”Heya, Miss Toriel. Listen, I think something’s up with Kris. You know where he is? Not that I’m, y’know, *worried* or anything, I just-”
>She clears her throat, trailing off as she realizes how that sounds, but Toriel just gives her a smile of weary relief
>”Oh? You already knew? I suppose if Kris were going to tell anyone… Wonderful, that should make this much simpler. Here.”
>Susie’s still trying to figure out what, exactly, she already knows when Toriel dumps a pile of papers into her arms
>”Uh?”
>”Homework, for Kris.”
>Susie goggles at it. It’s as big as a damn car battery!
>”Holy- Why? What’d he do?!”
>”Do? Well, nothing.”
>Toriel pushes her glasses up her snout and rubs her forehead
>”Or rather, I don’t *think* he’s done anything. It’s quite possible he’s managed to pull one over on me. You know how it is with him.”
>She blinks, finally noticing the look of dopey incomprehension on Susie’s face
>”He went home early today, Susie. I thought he might have told you, but-”
>The worry that’s been itching in Susie’s chest vanishes in an instant
>An angry indigo flush flares in her cheeks, two furious pilot-lights of flame sputtering out of her nose
>That little shit. All that crap he’d given her, all that time and energy she’d spent worrying about him, and it was just him trying to skip class
>”Susie?”
>Trying to skip class *without her*?!
>”Ah, no, Susie. It’s not what you’re thinking. He’s really not feeling well at all.”
>”Uh huh. Yeah, I bet.”
>Susie is not a snitch, but for just a moment she seriously considers telling on Kris
>It’d serve him right if his mom found out that he’s not actually allergic to number 2 pencil wood, that he’s never come down with a new strain of hantavirus, that-
>“A migraine headache, he said.”
>...That didn’t sound right.
>Kris always lies big, creative lies. That’s why they never work.
>Just a headache? There’s no fun in a lie that simple
>It might as well be the truth.
>”Oh.”
>Susie shifts the sheaf of homework, scratches at a stray scale on her neck
>”So is that, like… different from a normal headache, or…?”
>Toriel reaches up to fiddle with the tip of one of her gently rounded horns
>Sighs quietly, but not so quietly that Susie could miss the note of genuine worry in it
>”Quite a bit worse, as I understand it. He was… not feeling terribly well when I left, I think.”
>Instantly, the guilt comes roaring up
>No. It had already been there. Part of her, a small but very important part, knew all along that she should trust Kris
>He wouldn’t try to skip without at least giving her a heads up. He’d *never*. What the hell had she been thinking?!
>”Susie, dear, I hate to impose, but… could I possibly ask you to look after Kris this afternoon? Even after classes let out, I’m afraid I’m tied up with parent-teacher meetings all evening.”
>Susie nods resolutely, hauling her backpack off her shoulders and shoving the bale of worksheets into it
>She doubted Kris
>Almost ratted on him
>The absolute least she can do to make up for it is to go all out on pampering the living hell out of him
>”You got it, ma’am. I’ll head over the second class gets out.”
>”Well, about that…”
>Toriel wrings her hands together, struggling with the words. A few clumps of pale fur drift slowly to the floor, floating in the gusting air conditioning like little clouds
>“Would it be too much trouble for you to head over there right now? I hate to ask you to miss class, but I’ll tell Alphys that you have my permission, and…”
>She runs her hands down her snout with a sigh
>“I’m sorry. I’m just awfully worried about him. Do you mind?”
>…This can’t be real.
>A teacher, telling her it’s okay to skip school
>A teacher, *asking* her to skip school
>It’s like Free Ham Sandwich Day times a million.
>Her eyes go wide as plates, sparkling like molten gold, jaw dropping open in an expression of total awe
>For the first time in a long while, Susie believes in the existence of a benevolent god
>And so, a little while later, Susie strides happily through the bright spring afternoon
>Tilts her head back, grinning as the sun warms her scales, makes them shimmer and gleam with iridescence like the shell of a summer beetle
>Her backpack is stretching at the seams, filled with loot from ‘Sans’ and homework from Miss Toriel
>She turns the corner by Catti’s house, hefting her backpack further up onto her shoulders
>Normally, this is where she’d start gaining speed, her footsteps getting faster and louder until they rang like the din of a cavalry charge in full gallop
>A berserker grin splitting her muzzle as she smashed through the front door of Kris’s house
>Today, however, she keeps her steady pace
>Actually starts to slow down a little as the spotless beige siding of the Dreemurr residence comes into view
>She comes to a stop on the front doorstep
>One hand dives into her pocket, fishing around for the key Miss Toriel gave her
>The other reaches down, slips a finger down the back of her ratty old sneaker as she lifts her foot up behind her
>Pulls it free in one neat motion and lets it fall onto the mat, does the same with the other
>She slides the key ever-so-gently into the doorknob and slowly opens the door
>Toriel had been very clear about the procedures for that afternoon
>Noise is bad. Light is also bad. Keep both to an absolute minimum, because they’ll just make the headache that much worse
>Susie usually considers instructions from teachers to be a particularly naggy kind of white noise
>Miss Toriel’s different. The fact that she’s doing this for Kris’s sake makes it different.
>Susie, too, is different. Changed from the bitter young reptile that used to think that way, if only a little.
>She doesn’t realize it, not yet.
>Wouldn’t admit it even if she did.
>So even the tiny cricket-chirp of the door creaking open is enough to make her wince
>She pushes it open just wide enough to slip through the gap
>...Which is still pretty wide. Even without an unreasonable amount of homework and goodies extending her silhouette, she’s not exactly narrow
>But she tries, even remembering to twist the knob before she shuts the door, so the bolt slides back into place with barely a whisper
>She hefts her backpack again, tightens the straps until there’s no give whatsoever
>Then, stretching her neck, she rises on the balls of her feet, wiggling her fingers as she takes a long, slow breath
>And blows it out through her nose
>Susie is not usually a particularly quiet dragon, even by typical dragon standards.
>She stomps through the halls at school, speaks at a volume that would be considered shouting if not for the fact that she can easily go even louder, and considers opening doors with the knob rather than with a swift kick to be loser behavior
>But that’s because she usually wants people to know she’s coming.
>She wants them to get the hell out of her way and leave her alone
>Or at least she used to, before she started hanging out with Kris, and then with everyone else
>He doesn’t seem to mind her being loud, though
>Actually, he kind of likes it, so she hasn’t stopped just yet
>There’s another Susie, though, the one who slips out of her apartment in the small hours to wander through town
>Slinking through the shadows, skulking beneath the branches of trees as she makes her way to the lake to stare at the reflection of the moon in the dark, rippling water and think
>It’s that Susie that taps one clawed toe against the hardwood to test the echo, and then hunches low, swinging her tail from side to side to counterbalance herself
>She pads through the living room, towards the kitchen
>Passing through the beams of sunlight that arc through the windows like an ancient theropod stalking through the jungle
>The noise that stops her in her tracks seems all the louder because of the stillness it breaks
>Echoing hollow and warbly from the bathroom
>A low, piteous moan that’s suddenly cut off by retching and gagging
>Susie glances back at the couch, anxiety creeping down her spine
>Kris isn’t there. A quilt lies in a heap by the far arm, and a bottle of water has toppled over into a steadily spreading patch of dark sogginess
>In a few strides, heartbeat-quick and strangely silent, she races to the bathroom
>As he looks up, Kris wonders if he finally managed to fall asleep
>Or if he just fainted
>One moment it is just him, listening to his own ragged breathing echo off the ceramic tiles, trying to hold in what feels like a full revolt of every last one of his internal organs
>The next, Susie’s there, looming in the doorway, casting a dark yet somehow comforting shadow over him
>He didn’t hear her come in. Certainly didn’t hear her walking through the living room
>”Susie?” he croaks, “Why are you here?”
>”’Cause you’re feeling bad, dumbass. Can I come in?”
>Her voice is a low, calm hum
>Like she’s not seeing the pathetic sight in front of her
>Kris is lying spread-eagle across the bathroom tiles, clad only in a sweat-damp pair of shorts and a t-shirt
>Bloodshot traces through the whites of his eyes, gathers livid in the corners, so violent it almost looks like his crimson pupils burst and started leaking
>He glances down at himself, at his hands, so pale they’re tinged blue, and his hair hangs stringy and limp around his face
>And feels for all the world like some kind of dead deep-sea thing that washes up on a beach and upsets the tourists
>”No. I mean, I’m fine.”
>Shame prickles in his cheeks
>He wants to cry, but he’s worried it’ll make everything hurt worse
>Susie folds her arms, her gaze tracing across his body
>”Hm. Well, you can’t just stay there. You think you can make it to the couch on your own?”
>His legs are already shifting as she asks, one arm searching blindly up the wall for a handhold
>”Yeah, just gimme a sec to-”
>”Really?”
>Kris swallows
>The pain is unbelievable.
>The migraine’s like a steel pile being driven between the lobes of his brain
>His eyeballs feel like they’re being steamed, stinging and pricking like raw flesh, scraping against the inside of their sockets
>He shakes his head, a sob forcing its way through his lips
>”I’m sorry. I… I don’t think I can. My legs went numb and my head hurts really, *really* bad, and I j-just threw up-“
>In an instant, she’s kneeling beside him
>Working her hands gently underneath his body, then without so much as a grunt, hefting him up
>Reaching back without a word to flush the toilet on the way out
>She holds him close to her, rests his face against the very softest and smoothest of her scales
>Nuzzles her mouth close to his ear as she whispers to him
>”You don’t gotta act tough with me. Not now, not ever, okay?”
>A chuckle rumbles through her, hums bassy through her chest and into his skull
>”I already know how freaking tough you are. A headache taking you out like this? That’s no normal headache, right? It’s gotta be like, a secret postgame boss headache.”
>She has a point, Kris thinks. It certainly feels like a postgame boss fight in there
>Long shafts of late afternoon sunshine lance through the blinds in the living room, and Kris curls up, covers his face with one arm
>Susie clicks her tongue
>”The light, yeah?”
>He nods, clinging to her, turning his face into her collarbone
>Susie wheels around, hunching her shoulders, draping him in her shadow
>”Damn. Okay. I got an idea.”
>She hesitates for a moment, her grip tightening, claws pricking his shoulders
>”Hey, uh… is it cool with you if I go in your room?”
>Kris doesn’t even think for a second before nodding again
>He’s well past caring. Susie can spend the rest of the afternoon snuffling through his sock drawer if she wants, as long as she puts him down somewhere dark and quiet first
>”Sick. Alright, hang on.”
>Before Kris has time to realize what she means by that, she’s already leaping up the stairs, taking them two at a time with huge, loping strides
>For the first time, as she turns to fit him through the doorway to his room, Kris is thankful that the doors are designed for people twice as tall and half again as wide across as he is
>It’s far dimmer in here than the living room
>A single, needle-thin beam of light sneaks through the drawn curtains
>Even so, Susie scowls at the sight of it. She sets him down on the bed, pulls the blanket all the way over him
>He sighs in relief, rolling onto his side and blinking, his head feeling almost normal again for the first time in hours
>Only to startle back as Susie’s snout pokes under the blanket, blindly turning this way and that as she speaks
>”You guys got any aluminum foil?”
>”Um, yeah. It should be…”
>The purple intruder is gone as quickly as it appeared
>”I’ll find it. You just sit tight and relax for a bit.”
>The only sign that she’s left is the sound of the door to his room creaking ever so slightly as she eases it closed behind her
>By the time he pops his head out of the comfortable silence under the blanket, she’s already back
>Susie’s tongue sticks out of the side of her mouth as she carefully rolls aluminum foil down the length of the window of his room
>She glances over when she notices him watching
>”Neat, right? Best way to block out a window.”
>Her hands run across the foil, smoothing it perfectly flat. She sticks it in place with a bit of scotch tape that’s dangling from her thumb
>Now it really is dark in Kris’s room, pitch-dark, only the faintest glow creeping in under the bottom of the door
>Alone with the dragon in her lair, he thinks, as Susie rolls the leftover tape into a tacky little ball and tosses it into her mouth
>It’s a good place to be.
>”Wow.”
>Susie grins smugly, her teeth gleaming
>”Right? I use it in my room. The guy across the street from my place had one of those gamer computers, you know, with all the neon lights and shit. Stayed up all damn night, every night. Best part about tinfoil, by the way? It’s reflective.”
>Her tone is breezy, but the amber radiance of her eyes narrows as she looks at him
>”How you feeling? Your mom said it was a headache, but just now you were lookin’... pretty rough.”
>Kris pulls his knees into his chest, tugs the blanket tighter around himself
>”Migraine. Since this morning. It ended up hurting bad enough that I started feeling nauseous, and then, well. Couldn’t keep anything down. Not even the headache pills.”
>He shrugs, listless, avoiding her gaze
>”It happens.”
>”Oh yeah?”
>”When I don’t get enough sleep, usually.”
>”...Huh.”
>Susie sits down, crossing her legs, and rocks herself slowly back and forth as she thinks
>”That, uh, happen to you a lot?”
>Rocks herself a little faster, coughing awkwardly as she does
>”J-just askin’ because I have the same problem. The not-sleeping, I mean, not the migraines, thank God.”
>She scoots forward, just a little
>“So, y’know, if you want to talk about it or anything, I’m here. I mean, duh, I’m here no matter what, but-”
>Kris closes his eyes and takes a deep breath
>Someday, he promises himself
>Someday I’ll tell her everything
>About the rusty metal doors in that hill in the woods
>That winter night, all those years ago
>The screaming and the darkness and that awful, all-consuming red
>The night terrors that plague him still, the twitching, back-bent hands that crawl up from under his bed
>About the tingling numbness that seizes him in those moments, as he is forced to watch them skitter closer
>A soul trapped in an inanimate prison of meat, mute and still and terrified
>...But today he has a monster of a headache and he’s very, very tired and this is really not the kind of thing to inflict on your best friend who went out of her way to take care of you
>”Maybe another time.”
>Susie doesn’t even say anything, just nods
>He supposes he shouldn’t be surprised. There are things he hasn’t asked her about, things he suspects she wouldn’t want to talk about either
>Instead, she just reaches back, slides her backpack in front of her
>”Anyway, first off, your mom wanted me to tell you that you’re supposed to bring these worksheets in with you to school tomorrow morning.”
>She ruffles an unpleasantly thick sheaf of papers, and Kris groans
>”...And also to let you know that she gave me the answer key. So I can, uh…”
>Somehow, Kris can feel her waggling her eyebrows, even though all he can really see is her grin widening to an alabaster half-moon cutting beneath the lights of her eyes
>”Check your answers. If you ask me real nice. So when you’re feeling up to that, lemme know and we’ll get it outta the way. Until then…”
>She rifles through her bag, pulls out a tubby plastic bottle
>And another, and another, and…
>Susie sits back, setting her hands on her thighs
>Looming over a veritable palisade of sports drinks
>An array of bottles containing all of the colors of the rainbow
>And several that aren’t on any kind of rainbow Kris has ever seen
>They may not even be on the visible spectrum
>Strange, swimming colors that make him feel uneasy when he looks at them, like he’s seeing one of the world’s placeholder textures
>”Stopped by ‘Sans’ on the way over to pick up some headache pills, then I figured I should get you something to drink ‘em with. Didn’t know what kind you liked, so…”
>She motions magnanimously, sweeping her hand across her electrolyte-rich haul
>”So I got ‘em all. Take your pick. Sans had pretty much every flavor in stock. We got… let’s see here… fruit punch, lemon-lime, mixed berry, orange, unmixed berry, taupe, roast beef, antifreeze-“
>Kris holds up a hand, rubbing the bridge of his nose
>”Okay, stop. What?”
>Susie eagerly holds up a bottle filled with bright blue liquid.
>Only two things come in this shade of blue: raspberry-flavored candy, and extremely toxic cleaning supplies
>”Oh, antifreeze? Hell yeah, dude. That’s the best flavor! It’s got this, like, subtle sweetness that spreads through your mouth-”
>Kris leans back with a grimace
>He is not in a gambling mood today
>”Sounds great. You can have it.”
>She doesn’t even wait for him to finish his sentence before her jaws slam down on the top of the bottle
>One flick of her muscular neck and the cap rips free, taking a good bit of the plastic with it
>Susie spits the wadded waste into the corner, then chugs the whole thing in one go, tail wagging, before she realizes Kris is watching her with a faint smile
>”What? Oh, sorry. Which one do you want?”
>”Orange, I guess.”
>It sounds relatively safe
>He takes the open bottle from Susie, pops a couple of headache pills with it
>Sips cautiously at the faintly sweet-smelling, too-syrupy liquid
>Tastes more like the color than the fruit
>Still, not bad. Much better than he was expecting, anyway
>He settles back into bed with a quiet and peaceful sigh
>The pain slowly ebbing away, fading into the warm, agreeably stuffy darkness around him
>Listens to Susie fidget, the shuffle of her jeans as she shifts her legs around in front of her
>”So, uh. Anything else you need? Guessing you don’t wanna get started on the homework just yet.”
>He shakes his head
>”Later. Just wanna… nap for a bit. An hour or two, maybe.”
>”Right. Yeah, ‘course. Take it easy, buddy.”
>”Thanks, Susie.”
>”What, for the drinks? ‘S cool, your mom actually gave me some money to buy stuff for-“
>Susie trails off as Kris shakes his head again
>”For being here. Doing all this. I’m sorry you had to go to all that trouble, just because I was an idiot and stayed up all night.”
>His eyes are still closed, so he doesn’t see the sudden, terrible sadness in hers
>”You’re not an idi-”
>She scoffs, presses her snout into her hands
>”Kris. Dude. I’m happy to do it.”
>Before he can speak, she crawls forward, then kneels beside the bed
>”Shut up for a sec, okay? I’m not lying. Not pretending or sucking it up or trying to make you feel better. Or… I guess I am trying to make you feel better, but it’s ‘cause I wanna do it.”
>And with that, rests the palm of her hand on his sweaty forehead
>”I want to be here. I want to be doing this. So quit complaining and let me.”
>The contact sends a sudden shiver down his spine
>It’s…
>Heavy, but pleasantly so
>So smooth and cool it almost feels wet, a damp chill that numbs the piercing pain in his skull
>His eyes snap open in surprise
>She startles at the sudden flash of red in the darkness, and moves to pull away
>”S-Shit, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to-”
>But Kris reaches up, lays his hand atop hers
>”Can we stay like this? Your scales feel nice.”
>”Wh-?!”
>The embarrassed shock fades in an instant as she sees his expression
>A soft, dreamy smile slowly spreading across his face
>She runs her thumb across his cheek, snorting as he pushes up into her grasp like a happy hound
>”...Whatever.”
>They stay like that, for a while
>Until, addled by sleep and warmth, Kris blurts out a truly absurd request
>”You should get in too.”
>”Not a fucking chance.”
>Which of course is exactly what Kris expected to hear
>But he wouldn’t have asked if he hadn’t meant to get his way, and so he starts to writhe and flail, kicking his feet under the blanket
>”Aargh. Ow. Gosh, my head hurts so bad.”
>Susie grumbles, grinding her teeth
>She is *almost* completely sure that he’s faking it
>Almost isn’t good enough for her. She knows it, she knows Kris knows it, and she hates it.
>”Shut up.”
>”If only there were a nice soft dragon here to cuddle me, I could get some sleep. Ow, ow, *ow!*”
>The last one is genuine, as Susie crawls over him
>Bracing herself with a hand on his chest that feels like it’s a couple pounds of weight from cracking through his ribcage
>She forcibly scooches him to the very edge of the mattress, crams herself into the narrow space between him and the wall
>The bedframe creaks beneath their weight as Susie draws the blanket up around them
>”How’s that, dumbass? Real comfy, huh?”
>Kris wriggles a little closer to her
>Reaches up, grabs her forearm and draws it down to rest on his chest
>And sighs happily
>”Yup.”
>Susie refuses to admit he was right
>But then, after a few minutes, she doesn’t have to
>Because by that point her head lolls back and she starts to snuffle and snore
>Kris is awake for a little longer
>Listening to the soft rasp of her breathing, feeling the way she hugs him to her body, the little twitches of her fingers as she dreams
>It’s incomparably soothing
>And finally, for the first time in days, Kris sleeps soundly, and does not dream.