Work Text:
Jaget University is the perfect school for the bright Asriel Dreemurr. Far away from Hometown, sure, but who could pass up a good education for something a teacher's salary could pitch in for? Student life is nothing to write home about, but that was never the primary concern of the perfect son from an imperfect marriage. Was he unhappy? Sure, but he's working on it here, his family having his back. Stressed, tired from constant late nights studying the intricacies of biology, and far from looking forward to today's events, and tomorrow's, and next week's.
The alarm on his phone rings for 3PM, and Asriel scrambles to shut down the timer, setting it back within his jean's pocket. With that same hand, he reaches up and wipes his tired expression clear. This fails. More coffee. A fridge, presumably for the express purpose of storing grounds, was graciously installed within the double dormitory to allow for such luxury conveniences, in addition to the ever-modern heating system and indoor plumbing. A stimulant-producing device is of course a given, though. Replace the filter, partially fill up the jug, and scoop in a bit of the brown powder he gets closer to eating straight-up by the day, and Asriel can finally get something done!
That something being leaning on a nearby counter and waiting for the coffee to finish. We'll skip Asriel's every thought during this for time, considering a lot of them contain things pertaining to his recent tasks.
As the humming of the coffee machine stops, the sound of a mug being filled starts. A mundane essential task made almost insufferable, and the only way to make insufferable tasks tolerable. He takes the mug by the handle, careful not to let it splash, and takes it towards work station.
Despite the good grades, Asriel was never the organized type of guy, wouldn't color code a gradient, so logically his workplace is a disaster. A disaster he knows how to navigate perfectly. Now that the sun won't be directly shining in his eyes, he opens some nearby blinds, maybe one of the few people who really took the concept of natural light to heart. In an impermanent solution, the coffee is set upon the windowstill. Shifting and vibrating with every touch on the desk. Carefully yet plenty quickly, Asriel abducts and removes an, admittedly late, vintage Polaroid camera, albums in tow. For now, it goes on the ground, coffee taking its spot.
This is time set aside for work. His roommate is a weirdo with a Saturday class about this time, and even though it's not all too long of a class usually, time is time. Asriel switches tabs to his coursework, lifting up his coffee with one hand, prepared to start when—
A soft buzz sounds through our goat's pocket, something her absentmindedly takes out to check. A text from "Nonbinary Gremlin (Kris)". "available now be quick," it reads. Middle of the day is strange from them, but maybe they just want to chat, or need some instant advice. If it's that latter one, Asriel can't afford to spend another second on their research.
Asriel heads to his contacts, laptop still on, and takes an at this point much needed sip of coffee. Dialing his younger sibling soon afterwards. He gets a response before the first ring even finishes. First up to speak is Asriel, just an extra bit more energetic, getting to speak to them.
"Heya, Kris. Anyone listening in?"
"Nah."
The Kris the older Dreemurr came to care for. Asriel keeps a level head, chill with his speech. Kris has been needing it lately.
"Nice, nice. How're your friends doing? How's mom and dad?"
"Susie's kind. Mom seems to be fine. Dad is down, always."
"And how about—"
"Making myself some chocolate milk. One second."
Knowing Kris, they can still hear him. Ever since they got a phone, every call has been on speaker. Something about the noise originating from too close to their ear, maybe the screen pressing against it, has been a sensory issue for them.
"Mom finally got you some chocolate milk?"
"I'm at Noelle's. Trying to study. Susie and soul want the code of course."
Asriel sighs. It was inevitable they'd try to search for the shelter codes, but it's something he's been dreading to advice their younger sibling and invisible hand on.
"...we'll get to that, but just real quick—"
"Soul's watching by the way. Quiet down. Pause for a second."
Asriel adjusts his volume accordingly, then ceases speaking. Bits of the sound of presumably chocolate syrup flowing picked up by the microphone. Then, in a Kris-like fashion, the sound of them drinking the entire thing in seconds.
"...continue."
From a drawer beneath his desk, Asriel removes his copy of The Prophecy of the Deltarune. Secondhand, far from falling apart, but with some worn edges of a devout reader. No table of contents, but care was taken to index exactly how far along Kris is within the tale.
"On the topic of the next dark fountain. Should be... prayer chamber next?"
"Mhm. New weapon for it."
"Good. With that out of the way, and I really want to shout this... Susie cannot get... must not get... that guitar. Dess's old guitar..."
"Soul tried to see it too. Stopped it."
"Hell yeah."
Hell yeah really does understate what Kris has accomplished. Outsmarting an eldritch beast? Metal and impressive.
"... I mean, you do need the soul."
"I know."
"I just... really, really want to emphasize that."
Asriel picks his photo album off the floor, considering opening it to its contents. His hands tremble, and tremble, and burn until he sets it on the desk, and raises his voice at Kris.
"J-Just, without the soul, you, Kris, I know you're a human, but you will—"
"I know you're worried. Thank you. But I know."
Azzy breathes through his closing chest and wet eyes. Kris is more responsible now. Still his little mischievous sibling he used to help with their more advanced pranks, but now with some common sense. Some creativity, and hopefully the ability to listen to what their brother says.
"...prioritize your safety above everything. If Susie runs into the dark world with that guitar, put your soul back in first. If the Soul's about to get Alvin's code tonight alone, don't chase after it. Try to stop them from being found, but your safety has to come first. Got it?"
"Got it. Thanks."
With Kris's expression, that sentence is shining with familial love. Asriel tries to feel reassured. His body is still shaking, so far away from the action. He tries to change topics to get his mind off the horrible fate Kris could experience.
"On the topic of the police chief. She's definitely someone we're going to have to sacrifice. I mean, you'd have to willingly open the shelter to you, the Soul, and Susie to save her, and even then they'll be a fight. I... I don't think I could live with myself if either one of you won. I'll be free next week to drive over and help with Undyne if she's still alive, but we can't save her."
"..."
The silence isn't too disturbing. Kris isn't stunned or apprehensive towards letting her die, most likely. They just have nothing to say.
"Just head to the church tonight, alright?"
"Alright."
Everything feels wrong, even when they know this is what the both of them have to do. Hearts heavy, Asriel holds a hand up to his face for a snicker.
"...Kris. Once you're done with the last dark world, we'll make sure no soul touches you again. I know it feels like you can't stand this. Just keep at it. After this, we'll all go to the diner. Get you some nice food, and you'll be able to control how fast you eat it. Remember what you're working towards. Love you, Kris."
"Love you too, Asriel. Bye."
They seemed to choke over those last words, and then shortly after, the phone hangs up. Asriel sets the phone back in his pocket, trying to get immersed in the environment and the studies, praying to the Angel that everything will go as planned, that Kris won't be lost as well to fate.
For 20 minutes, he held his breath. Heartbeat quickened by the coffee and the circumstance, hardly able to focus on his studying. All of this focusing, and all of this scatterbrained hopping between thoughts, causes Asriel to almost be startled at the ringing in his pocket. Again? He withdraws it instantly, holding it up to his head. Kris, this time, speaks urgently.
"She has it."
Compared to previously, Asriel practically shouts. Real shouting, Kris likely wouldn't be able to handle.
"Susie has the guitar?!"
"The Soul was going to reach it. Made noise, alerted Susie. She has the guitar."
Asriel freezes. Their game of keep-away failed, and now they're already dangerously close to opening the bunker. He exhales, debating internally how to react, before reaching his final conclusion: no classes and no schoolwork were as important as what he and Kris were doing.
"You did the best you could. Thanks. I'll be right there, by tonight. Explore the dark world. Focus on your friends. Delete my contact. See you tomorrow, love you."
Asriel hung up, chugged whatever ground-packed coffee was left within the base of the mug, and shuts down his computer. He was leaving, immediately, and leaving his roommate behind. He'll manage emailing the professors later. What mattered now was getting to Hometown, if he's quick it's an 10 hour drive. It's worth it. It is always worth it. Packing goes over without a hitch, and then he's gone, turning his back on the dormitory, and then the college as he makes his last bid to do what's right.
By the time Asriel pulls into the township limits, the sun had set for hours upon hours, nothing but the faint light of the stars and the hope in his heart. Only stopping for gas and for takeout on the road, and even those both were made quick. The clock on his car's GPS read 1:22AM, by no means safe. Looking back on it, he's pretty sure he fell asleep at the wheel somewhere in there. It was the speed that was necessary.
Knowing the town like the back of his hand, he turns towards a collection of non-descript apartment buildings. If he's correct, the only one to the right should be short-term stay, a length of time his dad vastly overstayed when he was trying to find a place to live, at least a place large enough for his hoards of past relics. Pulling over, he lets his car rest, getting out and grabbing his essentials from the trunk, wheeling the suitcase through the doors.
On the other side, a rabbit-modeled monster, oversized ears and dyed purple, buckteeth showing. They're first to engage. "Can hardly believe my eyes, hun, is that the Dreemurr's kid?" Strong southern accent, but still comprehensible, Asriel is taken aback just a bit. "You remember me?" "Your mama couldn't shut up 'bout you for weeks! Jaget, huh?" "All it's cracked up to be, I guess... sorry, Pika, we can talk in the morning, but I really just need to sleep right now. Any vacancies?" Pika turns to her spreadsheet, sneaking amazed gazes at how Asriel's grown like a proud parent. "First room to the right, second floor. Have fun at the festival now, alright?"
"...I will, thanks."
The keys are set onto the desk in front of him snatched up quickly, before Asriel stumbles to the staircase, grasping the railings, and painstakingly hauling up his luggage. Million times heavier with such exhaustion. It doesn't last for long, with only one flight to climb, and the room is in a convenient position as well. He even fumbles with the keys, swinging the door open to a well-made, if tiny, apartment.
Shutting the door, he makes himself at home. Opening the suitcase, something he'll unpack later. Closing the blinds, having it open just a crack to alert Asriel of the sunrise, time to get to work. It was like every single one of those stars up there wanted his plan to fail. Just before he goes to bed, Asriel takes the photo album from his suitcase, a small collection of his most prized memories through the lens of a vintage. Pulling it open is like an assault on his emotions, heart hurting and head spinning and tears attempting to flow from a glance from what would be mundane squares of film to anyone else.
Album still open, he takes out his phone, and dials Kris. A response comes through almost immediately.
"Hey, Kris..."
This voice meant to listen, an attention-grabbing, shaky voice of a tragic hero. A crying and crying and crying boy. Flipping to the back of his album, for a memory in particular that always fills his heart with a love and a purpose and the scent of a depressing end.
"Don't forget, Kris..."
A photo of December Holiday, rocked out in her alternative self. Resting her hands on a baseball bat pointed towards the floor. Smiling. Smiling. In front of the open dark of the school supply closet. Smiling at him. Smiling back at him. Both of them thinking how the rest of their life could go hand-in-hand, could go within the same house.
"...you promised."