Chapter Text
“But do I haaaaave to?” Chara pouted, swinging their dad’s hand back and forth as they returned to his car.
“It’s just for another couple of days, then you can both live here.” Their brother was busy checking out a sign for a new brand of car.
“Wait– Does that mean we’ll be able to have chocolate every day?!?”
“Ohhh can we?”
“I’m not too sure how happy your dentist would be about that” their dad chuckled.
“Awww.” They chimed in unison.
____
Sure as ever, their mother stood in the doorway of their house as the car pulled up. They pretended not to notice their father’s hesitation to exit the vehicle, and opted to carry their brother in instead of putting him back in the stroller; just for logistical reasons, of course. If they waited for him to open the door before moving, and then walked slightly behind him out of her line of sight, that was definitely just a coincidence.
Blue eyes pierced down judgmentally at the mess of their hair as they slipped into the house before returning their father’s gaze.
“Michael.”
“Haley.”
She did not respond. Chara quickly slipped her brother onto the couch before returning to crouch near the front door to eavesdrop.
“–You know.. this whole thing is going to be a hell of a lot easier if you make some sort of effort to collaborate, here.”
“I don't think that will be necessary.”
“The case'll be settled tomorrow, Hal. It’s not like you’re not going to see them it’s just–“
“Just what?” she snapped.
He flinched back slightly, before quickly recovering with a sigh. Chara pretended not to notice.
“They need a bit more stability in their lives. I mean– you do want what’s best for them, right?”
“Of course I do. But unlike you,” she spat “I actually know what is best.”
Upon hearing the front door slam shut, Chara jumped up from the spot they had been hiding and quickly scrambled back to the book they had left on the table. They thought they’d pulled off the spying mission quite well. They turned a page, smirking to themself at their stealth. They definitely weren’t jealous when they heard the car start up and begin to drive away. They'd get to leave, too, soon enough.
As their mother walked by, she picked up the book and replaced it in their hands right-side up.
…Oh.
____
Uncharacteristically, their mother came into their room to tuck them into bed. “Goodnight, sweetheart. Everything will be okay soon.” Immediately, they knew something was wrong. She was never this calm; not really. It was always put up as a front.
They felt a hand gently push the hair out of their face.
She smiled sadly, stroking their hair. “You’re both staying here.”
She then exited their room, closing their door, followed by the click indicating that it was locked.
Chara jumped out of bed and quietly ran over to peak out of the keyhole to see her returning to her brother’s room again.
No
They scrambled into their drawer searching for the makeshift shim they had stored, and frantically picked at the lock with the bobby pins they had collected for this purpose.
No no no no no no no
The door opened with a soft click; their mother didn’t notice. They overheard her muffled voice talking in the same slimy tone she had used before: “oh, sweetie. if I can’t have you, no one can.” Their brother giggled softly at this, clearly happy to receive some sort of positive attention from her, not understanding the implications behind the words.
No no no no no– They ran to the door of his room, just reaching the archway only to freeze in place at a loud bang. Their ears were ringing.
For a moment they paused.
They tried to rationalize it.
Maybe she shot herself
Maybe it was a mistake
Maybe it was a nightmare
Maybe someone had broken in
…
Then they heard her crying.
They bolted toward their room slamming the door shut before smashing their bare foot into the locked window. They ignored the glass shards as they squeezed through the small space, and landed in a chicken coop before sprinting up the mountain. They had to get away.
They vaguely felt the branches and twigs scratching at their arms and face, but the pain felt distant. They stumbled and tripped a lot, barely able to feel their limbs. They couldn’t see. They tripped, caught themselves on a willow tree, and kept running.
Was she even chasing them? Did she hear them leave? …Where were they going?
They fell.
____
They woke up to the feeling of moist rock pressing against their cheek; which, upon further inspection, was also sitting in a pool of blood. Was that their blood?
They tried to push themselves up only to feel their arm completely give out.
Oh.
While they hadn’t been the best science student, they were fairly certain that human skeletons were meant to stay inside the body. Their left arm disagreed.
They tried with the other arm– it seemed less broken, at least, and tried to get a better look of their surroundings. Where were they? Did she find them? Was she here? Their heart began to race and they tried to drag themselves away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away– away–
A noise coming from deeper within the cave startled them out of their trance; it sounded strangely like... Were they dead?
“Mom! Mom, look! That’s them!”
A white goat ran out of the darkness in front of them pulling the hand of… a lady goat? Okay, they were definitely hallucinating now; unless heaven turned people into goats. What a plot twist. Maybe Mrs Biscuit was here! She’d been a kind goat. They would have to ask about that.
They let themselves fall into a heap on the cold ground. They couldn’t move. Where were their legs? They tried to move them, but were unable to tell whether it resulted in any actual displacement. Why was this happening?
What did she do?
They felt a hand gently push the hair out of their face, and they wanted to vomit.
“Just kill me” they croaked, before the world went dark.
____
They woke up staring at a ceiling of pale purple tiles. They couldn’t move. She must have taken them. She must have drugged them. Why did she kill him first? Why was he dead? Why was he dead? Why was he dead? Why was he dead? Why was he dead? Why was he dead? Why was he dead? Why was he dead? Why was he dead?
They tried to lift their arms only to have one remain completely still, and the other flop back onto their stomach, like when they had slept on it weirdly, except instead of pins and needles, it just felt like needles, and it was covered in bandages and didn’t look very much like an arm anymore.
They tried to move their legs and… nothing.
Everything hurt. They let out a quiet sob and gave up their second escape attempt, if they could even call it that, and resigned to whatever fate was to befall them.
____
They awoke once more to the sound of a calm voice, asking someone to pass her… what? What was that? They blinked to clear their vision, which only partially worked, before they felt a sharp pain in their arm
“no please stop just stop stop stop stop” they tried to say, although all that came out was a wheezy groan.
“I am sorry, my child, it will hurt less soon.” came the voice again. If she was going to kill them, why didn’t she just do it already? They tried to speak again, and came closer to succeeding.
“Pardon?”
“…p-please just kill me”
Toriel felt her heart sink.
_____
She had spent the past several days organizing a search for the few remains of medical textbooks that had washed into the underground. She had first attempted to feed the child soup, but their injuries did not heal. She then immobilized them to prevent further injury, but beyond that, there was little she could do without knowing more.
“Strange” she thought as she flipped through. Humans seemed to contain several distinct systems– their core, their flesh, and the rigid bones that helped them keep their form.
For bones to heal, they had to be set in the correct position, and then kept immobilized in a natural position until they fused. The fact that the child had multiple injuries made the latter part difficult– she couldn’t put a sling around their shoulder, as it was also out of place, although the books said that should heal sooner.
The head seemed to be the most difficult part– she needed to reduce the swelling, quickly, as if left untreated it could result in irreversible damage to their mind.
She heard a soft knock on the door to her office.
“Yes?”
“Toriel, please, you must rest– you haven’t slept in days.” Asgore hadn’t fared much better, having spent the past few days balancing discussions with the royal guard and scientist, and aiding Toriel in her search.
“That child needs to be healed as soon as possible– have you seen their HP? They were down to three points this morning– and two by this afternoon. I must do this immediately.”
Asriel peaked his head into the room. Asgore noted his nauseated expression.
“How were they, my son?”
“T-they, uh….” he unsuccessfully blinked back tears. “They asked to – to die again. Why do they keep… asking that? Isn’t dying like falling?”
Asgore paused, unsure of how to answer. “…Yes,”
“Why is she asking to fall then? She d-doesn’t h-have to. W-we can h-heal her, r-r-right?” His voice got quicker and shakier with every syllable as he stumbled over to cling to his father’s robes.
“We will.”
____
Toriel had first healed their head– and the procedure went rather well. The child seemed to regain some consciousness, much to her joy. She was aware that this would be a painful process, but she was left completely unprepared for Chara’s first request upon awakening yet again.
“You are not going to die, my child.” she stated, hoping to comfort them. The words seemed to have the opposite effect. The child’s gaze remained focused on the ceiling, seeming to continually loop the edges of one of the tiles.
“Then why did you kill him?”
“I… I did not kill anyone. Was somebody else with you?”
“N-no– you killed him; you killed him– y o u k i l l…. “ they trailed off and began to silently weep, before eventually slipping back into unconsciousness.
As Toriel continued to heal the surrounding tissue, her hands shook. Who had hurt this child? Why had they fallen into the underground? She took a deep breath before continuing, healing the worst of the injuries before finally retreating to her room and collapsing next to Asgore. She fell into a restless sleep.
____
When Chara awoke again, they blinked– and discovered that their vision was once again… mostly clear. Wait, why had it been blurry again? They pushed themselves up, slipping out of the purple sh– They halted. Their sheets were brown. The shirt they were wearing was patterned with light blue stripes, and was scratchy against their skin.
They gasped as they once again took in their surroundings and discovered they were in a small, windowless room in a bed across from another small one. Suddenly, they remembered what happened. Why they hurt all over. Why they were away from home. Why they had run in the first place. There was a door left slightly ajar.
They needed to get away.
They slipped out of bed, testing their legs, discovering that while there was a slight stabbing pain whenever they put weight onto their right knee or their left ankle, they could walk well enough.
They pushed the door open to reveal the long corridor, and they ran.
Well, thad was the plan, anyway.
They hobbled as quickly and as quietly as they could manage, which was approximately as effective as an elephant snail sneaking through a china shop, before collapsing on the floor with a shout and curling into a ball.
They felt a soft paw on their shoulder, and looked up to reveal.. the smaller goat monster again.
“… Am I dead?” they asked, unable to process the fact that they were in a completely different space in completely different clothes talking to a goat. In bible study they did always describe angels rather strangely; maybe this one happened to look more like a goat. Did goats go to heaven? Was this heaven? Was it hell?
“U-uh, no?” They heard a timid voice say.
They continued staring at the carpet. It was rather pretty. The light from the candles reflected on some of the particles. It was pretty. They slowly ran their hand over the texture. It was warm.
“H-human?”
Oh, the goat had been talking. That was rude.
“H-hey…” they mumbled.
“You’re not dead.”
“Then where am I?”
“You, uh... fell.”
“… Fell where?”
“…Into the underground. Where… uh… monsters live?”
“…”
It was gradually coming back to them in bits and pieces– they must have fallen into a hole while running. Why was there a hole leading to another fucking civilization in the middle of a forest? Who thought that was a good idea??
“Uh…okay. How did you heal me?”
“Magic!” Asriel said with a smile.
Okay, either goatpeople aged really differently from humans, or this was a very confused kid about to get a huge reality check. “Monsters and magic don’t exist.” They stated bluntly.
The goatchild frowned, not sure how to argue about their own existence.
“Oh, good, you’re up!” An older voice called from behind them and they immediately stiffened. Of course the younger one would be nice… it was the older ones they had to worry about.
They quickly tried to get up and tripped over their own feet once again, landing on their back and hitting their head with a hard thud. Well, at least the floor was carpeted.
“Oh dear! are you alright?” The goat’s face came into their field of vision. Yep. Still a goat.
“Why are you a goat?” They asked, feeling that this situation was too strange of a mixture of horror and hilarity to take seriously.
“… I am Toriel, although I do suppose my variation of monster does resemble the goats you have on the surface, yes.”
“If you’re not a goat, what are you?”
“I am the Queen of monsters.”
Was this lady out of her mind, too? Maybe that’s why they were nice. They still believed in monsters and magic. Their brother had still believed in monsters and magic. Maybe learning that those were fake ruined people’s niceness. Is that why they were so mean?
“Do you believe in magic, too?” They blurted out.
“… Why, yes. That is how we are formed, and how I healed you.” They thought back to their memories before they awoke; and couldn’t really recall much other than “pain, blood, bone, pain, goats;” so her story made sense. Except that it didn’t. Because magic.
“But magic doesn’t exist” they whined.
Toriel decided upon a different approach. “…Would you like to see something?” she asked. For a moment, Chara was worried– what good could possibly come from an adult goat thing wielding supernatural abilities? Was she possessed? Was she the devil?
Toriel simply opened her palm and created a firey glowing ball. Chara was shocked. Fire… was not supposed to appear out of thin air. What was igniting that thing? Was it still hot? They impulsively reached forward and touched the flame, only to jump back as it singed their fingertips.
“Oh, no, my child!” Toriel exclaimed as she vanished the fire ball. “Do be careful; fire magic behaves very much like combustion fire. Are you alright?”
Chara rubbed their hand gently, and noted that it was only slightly sore to the touch. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
“What is your name?” Toriel asked.
“… I’m Chara."
