Chapter Text
Breep! Breep! Breep! Breep!
Cracking his eyes open in the dark, Asriel woke to the thin gray light of early morning seeping through the bedroom window. He swiped at the alarm clock, nearly knocking it clean off the nightstand, and then the room fell quiet again. Quiet, except for the small, steady breathing coming from the other bed, where Kris lay curled up tight under the old quilt their mother had pieced together from scraps last year for their birthday.
Asriel lay there a moment longer, letting the cool morning air brush across his face and feeling the dull, familiar ache in his legs from yesterday’s run.
It was early - earlier than anyone else in the house would stir - but that was the whole point. Later in the day there would be no time for running. First he had school, then he had his chores when he got home, and a long list of other, small things that would work to take his time away. He may be ten, sure, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t a lot he could do for his age. He was growing up, big and strong… or, at least, that’s what his parents kept telling him.
He sat up, careful not to let the bedsprings creak too loudly. Yawning, he rubbed a hand through his messy tufts of hair, long enough to still hide away his short horns. They were still only nubs, but they’d grow longer soon. He pulled on a rather smelly pair of shorts and his thin track shirt, one his mother had folded for him the night prior, the fabric faded and stiff from too many washings.
Pausing at the door, he glanced back. Sighing, he crossed to Kris’s bed and crouched beside it.
“Kris,” he whispered, not too loud. “Hey, Kris…! You coming?”
No answer. Kris’s face stayed slack, eyes shut tight. Asriel reached out and shook their shoulder gently.
“Come on. It’s not even light yet. We could get the long loop in if you get up fast enough.”
Still nothing… until a few moments later when Kris moaned, burrowing deeper into their quilt.
Asriel frowned. Oh, so they were awake. They just didn’t want to get up today. Okay. If that’s how they wanted to play it, so be it then. Asriel stayed crouched there, hand resting on the blanket, before standing and turning back to the door.
“Just know I’m not carrying you today then…! Stinker…”
He shook his head once before crossing the room to the door, closing it behind him with a soft click.
Kris wasn’t that old yet, not like Asriel, but it was clear they definitely wanted to be. It had become a frequent thing that Kris tag along on his morning runs, usually up before the alarm clock most days to rub it in Asriel’s face. Despite being quite a bit smaller, legs too short to keep up most of the time, Kris would beg to come along anyways. While they could keep up for some time at the start, they would eventually get tired, and Asriel would hoist them up onto his back, carrying them while he ran. Kris wasn’t so heavy yet, so the extra weight didn’t matter as much, but it still made his lungs burn and his feet sting afterwards.
Kris being so happy and proud when they finished was worth it in the end.
Downstairs the kitchen light was on, a single yellow square against the dark house. Dad was already there, big shoulders filling the space between the counter and the stove. He wore his sheriff’s uniform, the badge pinned neatly on the chest, and he was pouring coffee into the metal thermos he carried every day. A strong and bitter smell filled the kitchen. He looked up when the sound of Asriel’s footsteps hit his ears, his face breaking into a wide, easy smile. It always seemed to start in his eyes, crinkling whenever he saw Kris or Asriel.
Super embarrassing… but it was his dad.
“Mornin’, son,” he mumbled cheerfully, voice held purposefully low so it wouldn’t carry upstairs. “You’re up with the birds today. Going on your run, I suppose?”
Asriel nodded. “Hafta get ready for if I ever wanna get on the team. Can’t go in all flabby and loose.”
“It’s rather cold out,” his dad noted, glancing at the frost on the windows. “Are you sure now is the best time to run?”
“Ain’t never a good time to run,” Asriel grinned. “That’s why you just gotta get out there and do it anyway - rain or shine, winter or summer.”
Asgore gave a satisfied grunt and screwed the lid on the thermos. “That’s the spirit. I told your mother just last night - you keep this up, you’ll go far. Straight A’s, always the first one to help with dishes or watch your sibling when we need it. You’re shaping up to be a fine young man. Who knows, maybe once you’re old enough to be on the team, they’ll go ahead and make you captain.”
“Oh, uh…” Asriel rubbed the back of his neck, eyes dropping to the floor. “Yeah… I reckon so,” he said quietly, voice low and a little uncertain. Being captain was a big deal. You had to be the number one runner on the team. “I’ll keep on like I been.”
Dad set the thermos down and leaned back against the counter, arms folded. “I wouldn’t worry about it. You’ve been practicing all year, almost. With that amount of determination and hard work, I’m sure someone will notice.”
“You sure…?” Asriel asked, not entirely convinced.
Dad looked over at him, noticing his expression. His wide small faded away as he spoke. “I just say it’s the universe telling me so, son. Good things happen to people who try their best to be good, you know that? You keep your head in those books, you keep trying to be a good older brother, and everything else should fall into place.”
Crossing to the door, he paused at the handle, looking at his dad. The words settled over him the way his father’s big paw sometimes did on his shoulder. Warm, heavy, and he knew it was meant kindly. That didn’t mean it didn’t feel suffocating sometimes.
It was hard being the best older brother. It was hard to keep his grades up all the time. When he could be playing with friends from school, he’d be at home studying. When he could be going to ICE-E’s to check out the new arcade games, he’d be at home having to watch over Kris.
Be a good son. Be a good older brother. Be a good runner. Be a good student. It was a lot sometimes. All these expectations sitting there like his folded clothes in the morning, ready to be put on without complaint.
He didn’t bother to argue. There was no point. The reluctance lived somewhere deep, a small tight knot he never let show. He only nodded, a small grin on his face, and said, “Yeah. I guess that makes some sense, Dad.”
Dad’s smile softened. “You have a good run. Stay out of the road if you see any cars. And tell your mother I’ll be home for supper if no one causes any trouble. Which they won’t, not while I’m around.”
Asriel laughed quietly. “Will do.”
Before the conversation could continue any further, he left through the front door.
—
It was always the same path, every day, every week, for the last four or five months. It would start with Asriel walking a ways out of town, following a fence line until he found a little divot in one of them. Stopping, he’d do his stretches and get warmed up, fighting to shake the last bit of sleep from his limbs. Then he would begin his run.
The cold bit sharp at Asriel’s face. Just as Dad said, he’d stay off to the side of the road in case any cars came by (which didn’t happen often), jogging at a consistent pace. Taking the same path back into town, he’d pass the quiet row of houses on their block, then left onto the cracked sidewalk into town. From there, he tried to take a wide loop around the edge of town - past Dad’s police station, down to the playground, along the long stretch that led to the cemetery, then church. Usually around here, he’d pass by Alvin, who would smile and wave at him each morning no matter what. Sometimes he’d be out in the cemetery, sometimes he’d be just outside the church, but he was always outside.
“Morning, Asriel! What a fine day it is!” Alvin said this particular morning.
“Tell me about it!” Asriel huffed as he ran past.
“Did you hear about the new–” Alvin began as Asriel made his way back into town, passing the town hall.
He wasn’t able to hear the last bit, turning and slightly jogging backwards. “Sorry, what?”
Alvin was too far now for him to hear. The priest only shook his head, shooing him to run on with a smile. Mouthing a sorry, he went about his run. His breath puffed out in little clouds as his feet struck the pavement in steady rhythm. Curving past the apartments, he ran a small trail through the trees until he hit the familiar sight of the lakefront.
Running felt different than the other things he was supposed to be good at. For one thing, he really did like it. It probably came from all the winning. His legs were longer than most and, once he got running, there was this fierce grit that kept him running, faster and longer than anyone else. Mom’s school was fine when it came to learning your letters and numbers, but it wasn’t much good for anything the kids actually found fun. The playground was tiny, hardly room enough to stretch your legs, and there were only one or two balls to go around - both of them flat and filthy from too many seasons of use and not being pumped up.
That was how it started - most of the boys gathering at recess, scratching out a rough course across the tiny playground so they could race. At first Asriel didn’t win much, but before long he was pulling ahead regular, even though he was still a fourth grader. Boy, that earned him some nasty looks and a handful of playground enemies. It didn’t matter much to him. He would just keep getting faster and more efficient, testing himself against some older kids who could give him a real challenge.
Compare that to school and grades and hauling Kris around when sometimes he didn’t want to, and it was clear as day why he preferred running over all of that. Here, he could be alone, free from the watchful eyes of his parents. No one expected him to hold a conversation while running or pass a test. There was just the wind whipping his face and the crazy drive of needing to pass whoever was in front of him.
One day, he’d hopefully join the track team. Sure, maybe his cockiness wouldn’t do him too well there, but if he wanted to get better, he would need to be with the best of the best. He’d go and watch some of the big meets sometimes if he had the time. The older kids there would have fancy shoes and big coaches who worked them all day and night. Asriel just had some old sneakers and a path, or loop, around town he had devised himself (with some help from Kris).
Still, he was pretty good. Fast enough that he was getting some recognition for it. Some of the older kids he beat would complain about it very loudly. He hoped that meant some of the kids on the team would hear and think highly of him when he got there.
More than anything though, it felt like a way to escape. Maybe, if he could be the absolute best at running, the rest wouldn’t matter so much. Maybe Mom wouldn’t have to remind him every night about keeping his grades perfect for some scholarship. Maybe Dad wouldn’t look at him with those proud eyes and talk about being a good example, being friends with everyone, carrying the weight of the “older brother” title like it was his job forever.
If he became some kind of champion - maybe even Olympic one day - perhaps they’d let him be average at everything else. The thought floated through his mind as his pace quickened through the forest trail, heart hammering.
He finished the first full lap faster than usual, chest heaving, legs feeling like sludge beneath him. Slowing to a walk, he stopped at the old wooden bench near the lake’s edge and pulled his water bottle from his pocket. The water was cold and tasted like metal. He took long gulps, collapsing on the bench and taking a breather.
Running also gave him all this time to think. More so than when he was at home or studying or at school. Here, jogging through town, he didn’t need to worry about anyone bothering him, which was nice. Gave him some fire, too, something he wished he had without the adrenaline rush from running. Then maybe he could argue back when his parents made him do something he didn’t want to. Instead, he hung his head low and did what they said.
That wasn’t exactly a bad thing, though, was it? Just because he didn’t like everything that came with being a good brother didn’t mean that it didn’t matter. Kris looked up to him and he loved Kris. That much he knew, no matter what the other adults thought about having a human sibling.
And listening to your parents never hurt either. They’d been alive much longer than Asriel had. They knew more stuff than he did, probably. It was most likely that they knew what they were talking about. Still, he found some of it super annoying.
Something in the corner of his eye ripped him from his thoughts. Looking over at the lake shoreline, he saw some faint ripples across the dark, still water. A sigh slipped out of him before he could stop it. Standing, stretching again slightly, he wandered close, rubbing his arm. He waited, shifting from foot to foot, then the surface rippled.
A tall, wide shape rose slowly from the water, water streaming off its onion-like head and long body. It was some type of monster, blinking large, nervous eyes at him, tendrils of aquatic plants clinging to its frame.
“Howdy, Onion,” he greeted. “How’s it hanging?”
Its name was Onion. Or, actually, the name he had given it was Onion. It was a weird monster, telling him it hadn’t remembered its name the first time they met. It asked him if he knew its name. Asriel thought it had been joking at first, but turns out it wasn’t. He wasn’t the best when it came to names, so he went with what he thought Onion looked like the most. An onion.
“H… h-hey, Cereal,” it said softly, voice gentle and a little wobbly like always.
Asriel smiled and gave a small wave. “Morning, Onion. It’s Asriel, though, remember?”
“Oh, yeah! Right! Not cereal, my bad,” Onion apologized.
“I don’t blame you. Asriel isn’t a normal name at all,” Asriel admitted. “And I do bring you cereal to eat, so. Y’know. I guess it gets mixed up.”
He reached into the pocket of his shorts and pulled out the little plastic bag of corn flakes he’d stashed there before leaving the house. He crouched and tossed a handful onto the water’s surface. The flakes floated for a second before disappearing beneath little gulps and splashes.
Onion’s eyes brightened a tiny bit. “Th-thank you… How… how is your day going?”
Asriel let out a short laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t quite know yet. My day’s just starting, really. Ask me later and I might have a better answer.”
The tall monster drooped visibly, sinking back toward the water. “You… you never visit later though,” it said sadly. “When you’re with all the other people… you never come by.”
Asriel felt his ears twitch. He spoke gently. “You could always talk to me when my friends are around too, you know. I’ve told you that before. They don’t bite. Remember that time I tried to introduce you to them?”
Onion grew all shy, sinking a little lower until only its eyes and the top of its head were visible above the water. Its voice came out tiny.
“I… I wasn’t ready yet…”
Asriel laughed a little, shaking his head. “You can’t really blame me if I don’t pass by then,” he said, not unkindly. “It isn’t from a lack of trying.”
Onion seemed to be on the verge of submerging back into the water entirely, only the very top of its onion-shaped head still visible above the dark water. Asriel crouched closer to the edge of the lake.
“Listen,” he said, “instead of bringing all my friends at once, I could just bring one. The nicest one I know. That way it wouldn’t be so scary. What do you think? Good idea?”
Onion stayed quiet for a long moment, thinking. Then, slowly, it rose a little higher. A small, shy smile touched its face, and it came a bit more out of the water.
“I… I could give it a spin,” it said with a bit of confidence.
He was making progress, good progress. That was, until a new voice cut through the quiet morning air.
“There’s a reason something that ugly and shy doesn’t have any friends, y’know.”
Asriel flinched hard and spun around. Someone had snuck up on them completely unannounced. He didn’t recognize the monster at all. It was a deer monster with dark fur and short antlers, wearing a plaid jacket that hung nearly down to their legs, sitting on the old wooden bench like they had been there the whole time. Narrowing his eyes, he couldn’t honestly tell whether it was a girl or a boy.
Either way, Asriel frowned. “Hey now, that wasn’t very nice.”
The newcomer snickered. At the sound, Asriel decided it was a girl. Definitely a girl. She leaned back on the bench, looking entirely too pleased with herself.
“What are you gonna do about it?” she asked. “Cry to your mommy?”
Asriel felt his face go hot and red. “I never cry,” he said quickly. “Crying is for babies.”
The girl tilted her head, eyes bright with mischief. “What, like your fish friend?”
Asriel pressed a little closer to defend Onion. “Onion isn’t no baby, isn’t that right Onion–?”
But the water was empty. Only faint ripples spread across the surface where Onion had been just moments ago. It had slipped away without him even noticing, quieter than the chapel on Sunday.
Asriel groaned, aiming a nasty glare at the girl. “Why’d you have to go and do that? I was so close! It’s lonesome out here with no one to talk to.”
The girl only snickered again, repeating his words back to him in a mocking tone. “Well, it’s like you said. Crying is for babies.”
“Onion wasn’t crying, though. They’re just a little afraid around new people is all,” Asriel explained back with a huff.
“If your pet goldfish isn’t brave enough to be around some girl, then that’s their problem,” the girl giggled. “It’s not like I’m scary, am I?”
Asriel’s entire body felt hot now, as if he were still running hard up the hill. His face burned and he really wished he was allowed to say mean things to her. Instead, he was forced to keep his temper.
“What’s your problem, anyways?” he asked.
The deer girl shrugged, completely unbothered. “I’m new here,” she said. “Saw you running earlier. Mom told me I had to go make some friends so I wasn’t annoying her all day.” She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Asriel’s eyebrows lowered. “Pretty odd way of making friends.”
He turned and started walking past her, done with the conversation. His legs still felt heavy from the run, but he wanted to be away from this strange, mean girl. He’d have to try again with Onion later.
As he passed her, she stood up from the bench. “Hey!” she called, planting her hands on her hips. “Where are you going?”
“Running,” Asriel answered without looking back.
“Running.” She nodded, then she continued, almost excited. “I like running too.” She took a couple quick steps after him. “How about this, fishsticks? If I beat you, then you have to be my friend. Deal?”
Asriel paused just long enough to glance over his shoulder. “I’d be glad to be friends with you if you sharpened up your attitude first,” he said.
“Ah, c’mon. Don’t be lame!” she groaned. “I was just joking around!”
“It’s not a joke when it hurts someone’s feelings,” he said back.
It wasn’t quite the slick comeback he’d been hoping for, so he decided it would be best to be off now. Jogging away, he picked up speed along his familiar path back into the loop.
Behind him he heard her yell, “My name’s Dess, by the way!”
Asriel didn’t answer. He just kept running, the cold morning air rushing past his burning face.