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Kris stumbled through pale gray walkways, wiping blood from their chin. Frisk was walking just behind, a dusty tutu nearly trailing the floor.
"Kris…" They mumbled, rubbing their eyes.
Kris glanced back. "You all right, bud?"
"I'm so sleepy."
"I know, Frisk. There's nowhere here to rest yet."
Frisk lolled their head up lazily. "House."
Kris turned to see what they were looking at.
An exact replica of Toriel's home in the ruins. Just in pale shades of gray.
"… You want to rest… here…?"
"Please?" Frisk's lip quivered, and the pit in Kris' gut tightened. They themself had been eager to just push through their tiredness, but Frisk was a child that was probably still used to regular naps at home.
Kris nodded, scooping Frisk up when they lifted their arms. "Yeah, I'll tuck you in. Don't worry about a thing. I've got you."
Frisk nuzzled into Kris' neck. "Love you, Krissy." They mumbled.
Their throat burned as Kris stepped inside, finding a room with a bed on either side, rather than the single one in Toriel's house. Two gift boxes sat on the floor, but Kris moved to set Frisk down first.
The kid was already snoring softly as Kris turned back to the gift boxes with tired eyes. The first box they grabbed had a small tag on it, reading To: Chara. Kris frowned. They knew almost everyone in this universe, so who was Chara?
Gently untying the bow, they found a perfectly sharp knife on a bed of tissue paper. Kris tested the sharpness, drawing back at the speck of blood at the tiniest tap.
They sucked the blood off their finger as they turned to the other box. Flipping the tag over, Kris nearly choked.
To: Asriel
Stupid. It was stupid of Kris to believe Asriel wouldn't be here somehow. But—where was he?
Oh.
Oh, shit.
The voice. The voice Kris had considered so, so familiar, and just slightly off.
Asriel.
Asriel was the fucking flower.
Shit.
Kris glanced back at Frisk's sleeping form before turning back to the box. Inside it was a golden locket, etched with the kingdom's crest they'd seen all over. Their thumb rubbed against the cool latch before pressing it down, flipping the locket open.
One side was unmistakably a picture of Asriel as a child, a human by his side as they both grinned at the camera. Most of the other kid's face was covered, but their smile held more mischief than Kris had seen since their own childhood pictures.
But they didn't look like Kris.
Almost everyone in Kris' universe was here.
But not Kris.
Kris wasn't important enough to exist in multiple universes.
The other side held something of a family portrait, and Kris' eyes welled. Their mother, their brother, the other child—Chara—, and their father.
Of course.
Of course the mysterious king they'd been destined to face this entire time was the same man that used to bounce Kris on his lap as they watched TV together. The same man who put Kris on his shoulders during festivals, because they'd cry if they couldn't see over everyone else's heads.
But he wasn't their father. Their father was sleeping in the basement of a flower shop, because of a divorce so horrific that it had been the town gossip for over a year.
But it was.
Quietly, Kris clasped the locket around their neck and slid the knife into their belt.
They'd be damned if this is what kept them from getting Frisk home.
…
"shocked you made it this far, to be honest."
Kris rubbed the bridge of their nose and turned around in the grand hallway, stained glass painting the floor various colors. "Sans."
"that's the name." He grinned. "what's your plan now then, kid?"
Kris shrugged. "I get him to back down, or…"
Sans clicked his tongue, shoving his hands into his pockets as he fell into step beside them. "look, i really get this whole 'ruthless' facade you've got going. it suits you. but we both know you won't lay a finger on the king."
"You don't know what I'll do." Kris replied, shoulders tense.
"maybe. but i do know that the second you get home—to your home—that you'll scrub your hands raw trying to wash off ashes that aren't even there anymore."
Kris' eyes didn't lift from the multicolored flooring. "I hate you."
He laughed. Typical. "yeah, kid, i know. i don't hate you, though. that's the important thing."
"Why are you here?"
"oh, just a little tradition i have in every universe." He shrugged. "gotta see the heroes off, y'know? Or try to kill them."
Kris' head snapped up. "What?"
"not everyone's as noble as you, kid. for some people, the ruthless, murderous thing isn't a facade."
"… what happens then?"
"they win." Sans waved Kris off. "they fail a few hundred times, but that determination your souls are full of are a real pain in the ass."
Kris pursed their lips. "So what? Are you going to kill me or give me some insufferable words of wisdom?"
Sans shrugged, nonchalant. "neither. just thought since you left the little guy in bed, you'd want some company for this walk."
Scoffing, Kris rested their hand on the doorway as they reached it. "Thanks for the encouragement." They said dryly.
"anytime, kid. anytime."
Kris glanced back through the archway, certain their own father was just beyond it. "… Sans?"
"hmm?"
Their hand pressed into the wall tensely, and they didn't make eye contact. "If… I die in here, you get Frisk home. I don't care what it takes."
"no promises. but… yeah, i will."
"And?"
"demanding." Kris could hear his sarcastic grin and fought the urge to roll their eyes.
"If I don't make it out, you take care of my mother. Is that clear?"
"… crystal."
"… Thank you."
Sans turned away, walking back down the hall lazily. "don't mention it, kid."
Taking a deep breath, Kris stepped under the arch.
…
The second Asgore drew his weapon, Kris knew Sans was right. Of fucking course he was.
The knife fell from Kris' hand in an instant.
"What…" Asgore breathed, before shaking his head. "You must fight me."
"I won't."
He looked simply bewildered. It was a look Kris had seen often from their father, but never in such dire circumstances. "Why not?"
Kris eyes' burned, but they'd repeated constantly in their head that they wouldn't cry. "I'm not as strong as I thought I was."
"It… it isn't honorable for me to kill someone unarmed."
Shrugging, Kris wiped their sleeve across their face. "Sorry about that."
Asgore's brows furrowed as they actually, really looked at Kris, his eyes snagging on the locket.
"I'm sorry." Kris sniffed hard, to the point it nearly hurt. "I know it's your kid's, I just—it just meant something."
"No. No, my apologies. I think they would appreciate it being worn. It just…" He tilted his head, his trident lowering. "You remind me of them."
"… do I?"
"You do."
Kris took a shaky deep breath. "I won't fight you. But—there's a kid in there. And I need to get them home."
His shoulders slumped. "I… understand."
Kris squinted. "You're letting me go? After all this?"
"… you just… remind me so much… what's your name?"
"Kris."
Asgore nodded after a long moment, his eyes soft and melancholic. "I will… not harm you or the child."
"ASGORE!"
Kris jolted at Toriel's shrill voice behind them. "Christ—"
"ASGORE, YOU WILL NOT LAY A FINGER ON THEM!" She pushed Kris behind her.
"Tori, I—"
"Do not Tori me. You will not hurt this child—either of them."
Kris turned. "Either of—Frisk!"
They were hiding in the doorway, giggling slightly before running to Kris' arms. "Krissy!"
"Frisk, why—you were sleeping!"
"I woke up! An-and Sans got Toriel!"
Rather against their will, Kris felt fond.
Stupid skeleton making sure Kris got home.
"Tori, I was just about to let them go!"
"Likely story!"
Kris cleared their throat awkwardly, adjusting Frisk on their hip. "Actually, he was."
"Oh." Toriel's hands fell from being placed scoldingly on her hips. "Well—I suppose that's good then."
Kris turned to Frisk with a tired sigh. "Ready to go?"
"No!"
Kris' breathing stopped as they set Frisk down, kneeling in front of them. "What do you mean? Frisk—we can go home. You want to go home, right?"
"Yeah! But friends!"
"What about them?"
"Can get them out!" They bounced. "Take them home with me too!"
Kris' hands twitched on their shoulders. "You… want to stay until you can get everyone out?"
"Yeah!"
Kris' teeth sunk into their cheek painfully. They wanted to go home; they so desperately wanted to go home. But they couldn't leave Frisk alone, not if they—
"kid."
"What now?" Kris snapped.
Sans smiled down at them both sympathetically, the idiot just appearing at the worst possible time. "it's time for you to go home."
Their face paled. "But—but Frisk—"
"i think we've got a handle on the little guy. what we don't have a handle on is you. you've got people waiting, kid."
"But…" Kris looked back to Frisk, their voice lowering. "Frisk, I don't want… I don't want to leave you now."
"It's okay!" Frisk promised happily. "Still best friends anyway!"
Kris smiled weakly, vision blurring. "Even if we never meet again?"
"Yeah!"
Frisk stepped forward and hugged Kris about as hard as their tiny arms would allow. "Best friends. Forever!"
Kris sank back, pulling Frisk into their lap and hugging them even harder. "Yeah. Forever."
"Um…" Kris turned up to Toriel, trying desperately to swat their tears away. "You'll—you'll take care of them, right?"
"Of course." Toriel sank beside them, petting Frisk's hair gently as they pretended they weren't crying. "Almost as well as you do."
Kris held Frisk at arms length, taking a shaky breath. "And you'll be okay?"
"… think so." They tried to wipe their nose on their sleeve, only ending up smearing the snot over their face.
Laughing weakly, Kris wiped their face for them. "I… I love you, bud. Remember that. Okay?"
"I love you, Krissy!" They said firmly, hugging Kris once more before stumbling to Toriel's side.
Sans cleared his throat, gesturing at the doorway behind Asgore. "home's through there, kid."
Kris stood on shaky legs, giving him a slight nod. "… yeah. I'll… go."
They made it all the way to the door before Sans called out again. "and, kid?"
"What is it now?"
He grinned. "tell your mom i said hi."
Kris didn't give him the satisfaction of a response.
…
"Togore, that's not fair!"
"I am not sorry."
Kris blinked as they stepped directly into their home, the smell of pie baking overtaking the scent of flowers they'd smelled just a second before.
Sans wasn't kidding—it really took them right home.
"Kris!" Asriel sat up from where he and Togore were playing chess on the couch. "I think Togore's cheating."
"I am not."
Laughing, Kris tried hard not to sound like they'd been crying just seconds before. "How do you even cheat at chess?"
"By eating the pieces." Asriel narrowed his eyes at Togore.
"The pieces are right there."
"I don't trust it."
"Kris!" Toriel called from the kitchen. "Could you help with the dishes for a moment?"
Leaving their brothers to bicker, Kris slipped into the kitchen. Their mom. Their mom.
"There you are!" She smiled brightly. "Kris… I actually did not need help with the dishes! I just wanted to tell you something!"
"What is it?"
"… I've been given the opportunity to adopt another child. Another… human child."
Kris tilted their head. "Really? And you want to do that?"
"I would like to take care of any children in need." Toriel clicked her tongue. "I wanted to ask your feelings on the matter—as my trusted human informant." She laughed to herself.
Kris shrugged. "If you think it's right. I support whatever."
"Excellent! Their name is F—Where did you get that?"
They followed her gaze to the locket around their neck—proof that none of it was a dream. "Oh. Found it laying on the road on the way home."
"It suits you." She smiled, turning back to the oven as it beeped. "You can wash up before dinner, if you'd like."
Kris headed toward the bathroom, their mind a million places at once, brain cells catching on that one annoying thought.
"Hey, Mom?"
"Yes, dear?"
Kris rolled their eyes to themself. "Sans says hello."
They could hear the fluster in their mother's tone. "Oh—that was—quite nice of him."
"Yeah yeah." Kris kicked the bathroom door closed behind them.
After about a half hour of scrubbing, Kris made a decision as they turned off the water firmly.
They would not allow Sans to be right about anything else.