Chapter Text
It started with a little cough. Then a little more.
Susie noticed Kris covering their mouth, trying to stop it, trying not to let the sound escape. When she asked about it, they brushed it off. Said they were fine—yet they kept coughing.
She wasn’t sure what to do.
She hated it when people brushed things off, when they didn’t tell everything.
Maybe she wasn’t the most trustworthy person. Or maybe it was only now that she was realizing how distant Kris really was.
She had once idealized their life. Envied it, even. They had a good mom. They were weird, creepy—yet no one really hated them. Honestly, they’d had more friends than her once.
Out of those emotions—ones that still shouldn’t be excused—she always picked on them. Kris never reacted, which only frustrated her more.
Of course, things happened. They became friends.
At least, she thought they did.
“Could you back o—”
Kris’s hand shot up to cover their mouth, cutting the words off as they tried to suppress another cough. It only made the sound harsher.
Susie’s shoulders tensed as she stepped closer. “Dude—”
Kris crouched down. It felt like their lungs were trying to force everything out. It ached badly. A persistent pain burned in their throat, like rose vines dragging thorns through it.
No matter how much they coughed, it was never enough.
Their abdomen hurt now. People kept asking if they were okay, if they were fine. It was annoying. Why couldn’t they just be like before and mind their own damn business?
No one ever looked their way when they were fine.
Only when they got sick did people start noticing.
Susie was no different. She used to pick on them, and they never minded—they knew it was just her frustration spilling out on them. Still, despite all that, she always looked like the one hurting the most.
It wasn’t that they hated her. Quite the opposite.
They were similar. Not the same—but close. Like partners in crime.
But people moved on.Made new friends.
They hated it when she took Noelle to the festival. They should’ve been happy—both of them were their friends. Kris was there too.
Yet sometimes they wondered, would everything be normal for everyone if they just… weren’t there?
Those thoughts scared them. The constant coughing only made it worse, made them wish—sometimes—that the suffering would just end.
Susie was still in front of them, crouching down. “C’mon,” she said. “Look at me, Kris.”
Kris glanced away, hand still covering their mouth. Every breath made their abdomen hurt more.
Then they couldn’t hold it back.
The coughing fit hit hard.
Their head went foggy.
It hurt. Their lungs burned. Every exhale felt like someone had punched them in the gut.
Susie’s eyebrows twitched as she grabbed their hand.
“Alright. No more talking.”
“What—”
She hoisted them over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes and rushed past the library.
Kris felt dizzy.
“I am not letting you cough yourself onto the ground, dumbass,” Susie snapped.
.
.
.
Kris was currently admitted to the hospital. The monster doctor didn’t have much knowledge of the human aspects of biology.
They had given Kris some cough suppressants and called their mother, Toriel.
Toriel had decided to take them to the city the next day, to a human hospital—a pulmonologist this time.
At the moment, she was talking with the doctor.
Kris let out a quiet sigh as Susie opened the door, carrying a thermos.
She stared at them for a moment before handing it over. “Here.”
Kris tilted their head as they held the bottle. “What’s this?”
“Some hot milk,” Susie said. “Looked it up online—good for sick humans.” She gently booped their nose. “To calm your throat.”
Kris puffed their cheeks, trying to suppress the warmth rising in them—but then a cough escaped anyway.
“Thanks…” they mumbled, opening the bottle and taking a careful sip. Their tongue burned almost immediately.
Tears pricked the corners of their eyes.
Susie laughed, “Heh! Didn’t I tell you it was hot milk, dumbass?”
They kept their mouth open, breathing in air. They blew a little into the bottle before taking a sip. Their tongue still hurt, but it calmed their throat for a while.
"It's plain…" they blurted.
Susie inched her face closer, tilting her head, her hand resting on the bed near theirs. "You don’t like it plain?"
Kris looked down. "Not really," they said, brushing their hand against hers. "I like it sweet."
Susie intertwined her fingers with theirs, her thumb rubbing their palm. "Sweet, got it. You’ll have it next time."
They hummed in response, taking another sip before coughing and spilling some.
Susie patted their back. "Easy there, idiot! No one’s gonna steal your milk."
"Won’t you?"
"Heh, not for now. But hey, I can get more… for you, dumbass."
They laughed, despite coughing midway. "Don’t people disappear when they go to get milk?"
She paused. "You really know when to joke, don’t you?" Kris sneered at her response.
"But hey, I can always get flavored milk so I don’t disappear on you, idiot." She bumped her forehead against theirs as her hand tightened around theirs.
This time, their chest hurt—not from coughing.
Both of them sat in silence for a while before Susie finally spoke.
"So… does it hurt?"
They stared at her. "What does it look like, then?"
Susie stammered, looking away before glancing back at them. "I mean… I’m not exactly made out of bones and flesh," she admitted. "And you never really tell me anything."
They stared at her for a long moment. Then, letting their intertwined hands rest against their chest, they admitted, "It hurts… a lot."
"You know," she said, pinching their cheeks with her free hand, "whenever I feel a lot of pain, I swear. Literally."
"Swear?"
"Yeah, like the time you sang that Christmas carol in swears."
Kris groaned. "Well…" They bit their lip, "it does hurt like hell."
"Go on, Kris."
"It… fucking sucks." They raised their voice a little. She hummed, listening.
"Coughing sucks ass! My lungs hurt like hell, like someone ripped stuff out of them!" They yelled.
"I honestly wish… it would just stop, dammit. Fucking God!"
"Yep… that’s the Kris I know." She smirked, feeling proud. “Doesn’t it feel better?”
They hummed. “I guess it does.”
“Yeah. Sometimes you just gotta let all your problems out and dump them on others.”
They looked confused. “Wouldn’t that burden others?”
“Sure, some people might be troubled,” she said, “but some of them will help you carry it too.” She patted their head, messing up their hair. “After all…” Her face inched closer. “What’s better than one head?”
She bumped her forehead against theirs. Both of them replied in sync,
“Two heads!”
They both sneered.
Susie twirled Kris’s hair around her fingers as she spoke. “Hey, Kris.”
“Yeah?”
“Would you forgive me?”
Kris furrowed their brows. “For what?”
She hesitated before clenching her hand. “For…” She met their eyes. “For bullying you in the past. Picking on you. For hurting you. I’m sorry, Kris.”
They didn’t reply for a while. Instead, a cough escaped their lips. They steadied themselves, breathing slowly.
“Why now?”
“Because… better late than never.” Her voice softened. “One day, you could just be gone, and I’d never get the chance to apologize.”
Kris clenched their jaw before letting out a slow sigh. They looked at her, then out the window.
Their free hand tightened into a fist—then loosened. Letting go. Holding onto it wouldn’t free them.
“I can’t forgive you.”
Susie opened her mouth to speak, but they stopped her.
“But… I do hope we can be better friends.” They reached out, grabbing her other hand with theirs.
“I’m sorry for keeping things from you.”
Susie felt her chest rise as she let out a breath of relief.
“You really are dumb.” She scoffed.
“You befriended someone dumb.” They bickered back.
She smirked. “Guess I’m dumber, then.”
They both burst into laughter—until Kris broke into a cough.
Even laughing, they couldn’t do it without coughing. A strange pain twisted in their abdomen as the coughing worsened.
They pulled their hand free from Susie’s grip, covering their mouth as they coughed and coughed.
Then it happened.
A sharp pain ripped through their chest, like a string snapping.
A metallic taste spilled from their mouth.
Their hands were covered in blood.
Susie’s eyes widened in horror. “Kris?!”
Heh…
If only they’d gotten one more chance.
Please.
It was too late, wasn’t it?