Work Text:
Waves. Crashing. Cresting. An endless, ceaseless cycle, grinding down stone to dust.
To a monster, waves weren't threatening. Made of magic, water could do nothing to threaten them - what will did liquid have to hurt?
Humans were a different matter.
When they were playing in the lake, and Kris wouldn't stop splashing Noelle, the obvious answer to Dess - stupid, thoughtless Dess - was to push them down into the water until they yielded.
They didn't yield.
First, Kris struggled. Then, they slowed. They turned blue, unable to communicate through the water as a monster could.
They noticed when it was nearly too late. They took them back to Toriel, to Asgore, to Rudy and Carol.
Asgore was supposed to watch the children. Asgore had found a rare flower patch in the forest near the lake.
Sirens. Cars cleared the road as Asgore used his police siren - illegally - to rush Kris to the hospital. They made it. But they were broken - the lack of oxygen had damaged their brain.
Dess ran. Rudy followed.
Hometown didn't have a healer, not really. Especially not for humans. The only individual who had studied human bodies at all was one W. D. Gaster.
They had a solution. Just not one anyone would like.
Humans did not, inherently, have magic. They were flesh, matter in a way monsters weren't. But it was possible to create a core of magic, to sustain a human in ways their bodies could not - a SOUL.
But SOULs were not cheap. And they were not limp, lipid things. They were grand works of magic made manifest, will and determination and otherworldly influence.
Asgore said yes. Toriel did not.
They survived. The magic had laid a terrible toll on Gaster, but it restored Kris as if they had never drowned.
It just wasn't quite Kris anymore.
When Rudy came back, it was alone.