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Toriel handed Susie a bowl of fresh, hot porridge. It smelled good and strong; milky oats, laced with honey and sugar. Susie was sorely tempted to devour the contents of the bowl then and there. She only restrained herself because she knew it wasn’t meant for her.
“Would you please give this to Kris, dear?” Toriel asked, smiling sweetly. “I think, in this state, they will be more receptive to you than I right now.”
“Um, sure thing.” Susie cradled the bowl carefully in both hands. It was hotter than her own body temperature, never mind she could easily snap the fragile ceramic in two if she wanted. “But, uh…can you really trust me to feed them this?”
Toriel, in the middle of gathering up the kitchen utensils, nodded without hesitation. “Of course, Susie. You are Kris’ friend, are you not? Besides…” Her smile remained fond, but it took on a sad air as she continued. “Kris has always been particular about who feeds them. They would be more willing to eat from their brother’s hand than mine or their father’s.”
“Oh, um. Alright,” Susie stammered, trying not to think too hard about the implications of what Toriel was saying. She hoped the excess warmth in her cheeks wasn’t visible on her face. “I’ll—I’ll do my best.”
Toriel smiled approvingly. “Make sure they eat it all. I have mixed some medicine into it to help with their illness.” She sighed, old weariness briefly overriding her expression. “Kris will not take anything otherwise.”
Now Susie was glad she’d restrained herself from tasting the porridge. At the same time, she couldn’t help scoffing internally. Kris was so much like a dog, sometimes, even when they weren’t intentionally acting that way.
“Don’t worry, ma—uh, Toriel. I’ll get them to lick the plate until it’s spotless,” Susie said, attempting to flash her a confident grin.
Toriel tittered behind her hand, before patting Susie on the shoulder with it. “Thank you very much, Susie. It is a relief to know I can rely on you.”
“Hey, loser,” Susie greeted, when she invited herself into Kris’ bedroom. “Your mom made you porridge. Better sit up and eat it while it’s still hot.”
Kris’ wordless grumble of reply was muffled by the blanket burrito they’d wrapped themself into. Still, with some shuffling, they managed to untangle themself from their blankets enough to half-sit, half-slouch upright against their pillow-padded headboard. Their hair was already back to bedhead levels of messy, flyaway with locks sticking up at random.
Susie briefly set the bowl of porridge on their drawer, freeing her hands to drag Asriel’s computer chair across the room beside Kris’ bed. “How you feeling?” she asked, as she sat down. “Any better?”
“Dunno,” Kris mumbled in a scratchy voice, rubbing at their forehead. They were still paler in color than usual, dark eyebags more prominent than ever. “Tired.”
Susie nodded. “How’s the nausea?”
“Better.” Kris indicated the clean wash bucket next to Susie’s seat with a finger. “Haven’t thrown up in a few hours now.”
“Good—then you can try eating this.” Susie picked the bowl of porridge and its spoon back up, holding both out to Kris.
Kris stared at the offered food without enthusiasm, irises dull under hooded lids. After a moment of hesitation, they haltingly took the porridge off Susie and set it in their blanket-covered lap, using the spoon to idly stir the oatmeal around. Susie waited, but Kris didn’t eat a bite.
“Not feeling hungry?” she ventured.
Kris shrugged. They lifted spoonfuls of porridge, only to pour them back into the bowl seconds after. It was almost like Kris was sifting through it, searching for something… “Mom put something in this, didn’t she?” they asked.
“Yeah. Medicine,” Susie confirmed. “Didn’t say what kind, though—just that it’d help.”
Kris dropped the spoon into the bowl with a wet clink, sinking themself further back against the headboard. It didn’t look comfortable to Susie. “I don’t wanna eat this,” they grumbled.
“Why? Is it the flavor?” Knowing how fussy an eater Kris was, Susie wouldn’t be surprised. Still, she was sure Toriel had sugared the porridge generously for them…
Kris turned their head to glare at the wall, jaw clenched and brows knitted. Susie waited again, but seconds passed and they said nothing.
“Something wrong?” she asked, frowning. Now she was starting to get worried.
Kris shook their head, yet they still wouldn’t look at her again. “M’not hungry,” they muttered.
“So?” Susie demanded, her tone sharpening of its own accord. She dug her claws into the scuffed denim of her jeans in an attempt to suppress her flaring anger. “It’ll still help, medicine or not.”
Kris fisted their blankets and said nothing.
Susie ground her teeth, suppressing the urge to snap something like, Your mother made this for you, dumbass! “Dude, it’s gonna get cold at this rate,” she gritted out, instead.
No response.
Susie sighed heavily. She shook the tension from her hands, before reaching over to pick up the bowl of porridge from Kris’ thighs. It was still warm, though it’d stopped steaming. “Look, if you won’t eat it yourself, I’ll spoon-feed it to you.”
That finally earned her a reaction: Kris swivelled their head around to shoot her a raised eyebrow.
She snorted. “Yes, I’m serious. Sometimes I gotta shovel stuff down my dad’s throat when he’s too hungover to feed himself.” Though she hadn’t had to do that in a while, to her relief. Either way, she scooped up a decent spoonful of warm porridge and held it out towards Kris, moving the bowl with it to catch any dripping milk. “Now say ‘ah’.”
Kris’ gaze dropped to regard the spoon with suspicion in continued silence. They didn’t open their mouth.
Susie huffed. “No, I’m not making train or aeroplane noises, if that’s what you’re gonna ask.” She knew Kris wasn’t; she was deliberately missing the point for their sake. “Unlike Ralsei, I actually have some dignity I wanna maintain.”
That got a snort out of Kris, but any joy they found in Susie casting shade over Ralsei was short-lived. They stared down at their lap, fingers still scrunched into the blankets.
Eventually, Susie withdrew the porridge, setting the bowl in her lap and the spoon in the oatmeal. “Look, Kris, if this is about you throwing it back up on me…it wouldn’t be my first rodeo, okay? I can handle it.” She’d developed a strong stomach over the years from having to clean up after her father; nor would it be the first time she’d seen, much less heard, Kris vomiting.
“That’s not the problem,” Kris grumbled, ducking their head. Their bangs hung like long, dark curtains to hide their face from sight.
“Then what is it?” Susie demanded, more angrily than she intended. She quickly dropped her own head, temples prickling cold with shame.
Kris opened their mouth, then closed it. They nibbled on their dry, chapped lower lip, while they lifted their right hand to massage at their throat. Susie forced herself to wait, restless with impatience as she was. Snapping at Kris wouldn’t help either of them; it’d only make things worse.
At last, Kris spoke again. “Could you…eat some, first?”
Susie blinked. She hadn’t expected this. “Um—I mean, I could, but, like…your mom made this for you.” And Susie didn’t want to take food from Kris if she could help it; they already ate so little. Besides, her eating the porridge would mean less medicine for Kris.
“Please,” Kris asked, glancing up at Susie and then away again. Their voice was small and strained. “Just…do it, Susie.”
Susie wanted to protest further, but her gaze fell to Kris’ tense shoulders, their white-knuckled hands. A familiar dread caressed its cold fingers across the back of her neck, like she was on the verge of another awful realization.
“If I do,” she asked, trying to soften out her tone and volume, “will you eat the rest?”
Kris nodded tightly.
Well, there was no point in arguing otherwise; especially when Kris looked like speaking any further on the subject would be equivalent to pulling their intestines out through their throat. Susie did as they asked, indulging herself with a generous spoonful of Toriel’s oatmeal. It had cooled down a lot by now, but it was still tasty. Milky and sweet, thick and rich. Way better than the watery excuses for microwave porridge Susie had eaten in the past.
She suppressed renewed temptation to devour the rest, handing both bowl and spoon—the latter now coated in a layer of her reddish saliva—back to Kris. “I hope this isn’t some roundabout way for you to eat my spit,” she murmured, trying to lighten the mood with a joke.
Kris didn’t look amused. Still, they accepted the food from Susie, which eased the knot in her chest.
They didn’t dig into it immediately. They stirred the porridge for a while longer, first. Then, at last, Kris lifted a spoonful to their lips, closed their eyes, and deliberately placed it inside their mouth. It was almost as painful for Susie to watch as it looked for Kris to force themself.
At least, after that first mouthful, Kris’ hunger seemed to finally kick in. They ate spoonful after small spoonful, if at a frustratingly slow pace that guaranteed the porridge would be cold by the time they finished. Still, Susie kept her mouth shut. She didn’t want to hand Kris any excuse to set the bowl down for a second time, especially now they were actually eating.
Kris ate about half of the oatmeal before they lowered both bowl and spoon again. “Shouldn’t have too much at once,” they mumbled as explanation. They rested back against the headboard, one hand splayed over their stomach atop the blankets.
Susie nodded. “Makes sense,” she said, deciding to take Kris’ words at face value. “Well? Does it help?”
They shook their head, just once.
Questions bubbled up in Susie’s throat. She did her best to swallow them back down. She could save all that for when Kris had recovered and was in a better, not to mention more talkative, mood. Instead, Susie reached over to pick up the bowl of porridge again, helping herself to a second spoonful.
Kris raised another eyebrow at her. Susie feigned defensiveness, huffing, “The smell’s making me hungry, okay? And you’re just letting it sit there.”
She got the reaction she wanted: an upward twitch of Kris’ lips. Smiling herself, Susie returned the bowl to their lap. Kris cupped it in both hands, as if they were planning to lift it and slurp it up as if it were soup, but they didn’t move. The expression on their face suddenly looked guilty, and guiltier than Susie had expected.
Susie couldn’t help herself. “Is it…really that hard to just eat it?” she asked, low and quiet. She was trying her best to understand, but after nearly starving as a child, Susie had never had so much trouble making herself eat even half-rotten food. The reason why Kris kept depriving themself continued to elude her.
Kris didn’t reply verbally, but the upward jump of their shoulders answered Susie’s question anyway.
She clenched her hands tight over her knees again. Susie wished she could be of more help. She wished she could understand what the problem was, already. Her callused knuckles itched with the urge to be slammed into a wall, just so she had something to hit. To take her anger out on. To feel like she was actually doing something, anything of substance. Even if it was only pretending she was punching Kris’ demons in the faces, breaking their noses under her strength…
Helplessness was a feeling Susie was becoming very familiar with, these days. She hated it.
Still, the sound of metal clicking faintly against ceramic as Kris eventually resumed eating the porridge helped ease the agitation swirling inside her, if only a little.
Finally, the meal was finished. Kris set the dishes on their drawer and slid down to lie short of flat in bed, looking worse than ever. Looking like they wanted nothing more than to curl up on the spot and die. Susie gingerly patted their right hand, sprawled limp over top the blankets like it was dead.
“I’m sorry, man,” she mumbled. She felt like she needed to say it. She felt like she’d pinned Kris down to the bed and poured the entire bowl down their throat against their will.
“S’not your fault,” Kris mumbled back, though they kept their eyes closed. “M’just fucked up.”
She couldn’t think of anything to say to that. Susie took their hand in hers, slowly circling her thumb over the back at what she hoped was a reassuring rhythm. She could feel their delicate bones right under the surface of their thin, soft skin. If she looked closely, too, she could see small impressions worn into Kris’ knuckles: ones she instantly recognized, by way of witnessing them chomp down hard on their own hand, as from their blunt human teeth. Her stomach twisted at the sight.
With a heavy sigh, Susie released Kris’ hand and stood from her seat, picking up the empty dishes. “Guess I’ll take these downstairs, then.”
“Will you come back?”
Susie turned to see Kris gazing up at her with puppy-dog eyes. She balked and had to look away quickly, before that intense red stare captivated her with its spell. “I—I mean, if that’s what you want? Not like I can do much for you like this, though,” she admitted in a lopsided stammer, scratching at the back of her neck where scales gave way to hair.
“Please,” Kris insisted. “You don’t have to do anything but stay here.”
Susie wrinkled her snout as ticklish warmth rose to her cheeks. She still couldn’t help it. She didn’t think she’d ever get used to the idea Kris, despite everything, wanted her around, even while they were stuck sick in bed. But she’d do it, of course. She’d do whatever little she could to help them.
With a feeling of resignation settling into her chest, she realized this must be what Ralsei felt for the both of them.
“Alright,” Susie said, letting her free hand dangle at her side. “But, uh, if your mom tries to rope me into another conversation or something, I might not get back so soon.”
Kris’ eyes crinkled with their satisfied smile. “S’fine. I can wait.”
Susie nodded, and she tried not to leave the room too hastily, even as her heart pounded giddily in her chest. God, having friends was so much weirder, never mind more difficult, than she’d ever imagined…but at the same time, Susie didn’t want to give them up, now she had them.
Still, she silently schemed a way to get payback for this whole mess—once Kris had recovered, of course. They might’ve already infected Susie with some stupid lovey-dovey disease, but she wasn’t keen on adding more over top.