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An empty bed, a messy floor, and dust hanging in the stale air of a moonbeam filtering in through a crack in hastily-closed curtains. This was the typical sight Kris faced every quiet evening since Asriel left; yet with Toriel gone for the night again and heavy revelations from their time in the church world only days before, the stillness and silence has grown to be more suffocating than usual. Kris lay in their unmade bed, under no covers with their back against the wall of their barren side of the room. An old alarm clock they'd grown up with, once pristine and white sometime in Asriel's youth now scratched and a faded off-white yellow, bears a menacing red readout of 1:45AM. An aggrevating reminder of their insomnia and a glowing scarlet portent of the tiring day at school they'd have ahead of them if they did not get to sleep. A gust of wind outside makes the house creak, and for just one brief moment they think their mom had come home, for one small moment the oppressive loneliness lifts off their shoulders before her voice echoes in their head reminding them she would not be back until the following afternoon. A half-hearted middle finger goes up for a moment in resentment as the thought of that convenience store clerk crosses their mind, but at this hour, with this stress, it's hard to continue caring. Most of the time they barely care about anything anymore, but in this moment they'd rather be anywhere else.
I don't want to be here anymore.
Even Kris is unsure if that was said aloud or just haunting their thoughts.
1:59AM. They continue to stare at the empty bed on the other side of the room, but as minutes go by their eyes begin to unfocus. The bed, the floor, the moonbeam, all become distant shapes and colors barely registering to them as they recede into their thoughts. A dissociating haze falls over the poor human until it's unclear if their eyes are even open or not. Instead they retreat into their happy memories like they always do. A slideshow of childhood joy presented every night over and over like Asriel's hand-me-down Viewmaster they played with as a kid. Relating this thought to another happy childhood memory gave them their first, albeit small smile in hours.
Kris thought about themselves on the couch as a little kid (wow, the texture of the upholstery and blankets sure has changed over the years, the couch used to be so soft!) Asriel sits on his knees digging through a box of (then) recently unearthed toys from his own childhood. In this moment, everything felt okay for Kris. The morning sun trickling through the yellow curtains bathes the living room in a warm dandelion glow. The family TV quietly runs some daytime programming neither of them care about. No school tomorrow, no worries, and the comfort that someone like their big brother was there and cared about them.
"Aha!" The young Asriel exclaimed triumphantly, pulling his old Viewmaster from the box. He blows and wipes away thin layer of dust from it, while also doing a quick check to make sure it still worked. "I know you like playing games with me," he says, coming to sit with Kris on the couch, "but I totally just remembered this and thought maybe you'd think it's cool! Most of that box is baby toys but I always thought this was crazy to look at. Dad says before everyone had the internet, this is how people would look at cool pictures!" Asriel beamed, spreading dad-level-misinformation with the confidence of a college professor. Kris nods and accepts this infallible sibling information permanently into their worldview. "Besides, mom says she's worried about how much 'screen time' you're getting, so I figured we could ruin our eyes with this for now." Asriel chuckled, then handed it over to the little Kris.
"You just look through it, and click the little lever here to move on to the next scene!"
Okay Kris signs, holding the piece of weathered plastic up to their eyes.
Peering through the tiny portholes of the device, Kris would see several peaceful vignettes of their childhood unfold. First, a sense of comfort and warmth sitting in the back of Toriel's car, listening to their parents talk about something unimportant while they watched raindrops race each other on the window. CH-CLICK. The summer days they would spend actually outside and not playing video games, a sense of endless tomorrows and pure contentment laying under a big tree in their backyard pointing at clouds and saying "this one totally looks like a horse pulling a train" to Asriel. "That's totally a big ketchup bottle falling over and making a mess!" he replies with a laugh. CH-CLICK. Running from their house to the gate of Noelle's after finishing their homework. The feeling of being wanted and included by their peers as Noelle rushes to the gate to let them in. Running around the enormous Holiday property and playing hide and go seek, popping out to scare her when they know exactly what hiding spot she chose. Playing in the sprinklers of the estate in the summer and accruing grass stains for Toriel to deal with when they'd play on the lawn there in the fall and spring. CH-CLICK. Sitting in the booth at the diner, breathing on the windows and drawing pictures in the fog. Their free hand alternating between stimming and picking at the sticky peeling leather of the seat and holding someone's hand beside them. A strong sense of family, connection, safety as they sit in the corner of the busy restaurant, unable to make out any real conversation over the diner noise. Kris turns their head from the window, seeing they're out with their friends and family; Asriel, Noelle, December. Dess.
Dess.
Dess.
Dess.
Dess.
The sound of the diner now feels so far away. "Nice stars kiddo." She says about the drawings on the window, her gaze piercing their bangs. Kris' stomach drops. Their breathing hitches. Their head spins. It feels too real. Every freckle, every strand of hair, the timbre of her voice, all too real. There is no response from Kris. Their eyes begin to water as a lurid feeling of guilt and longing rip them forcefully from their nostalgic reverie.
"STUPID." they growl aloud to the dark of the empty room, a solitary tear making its way to their pillow. They feel childish and selfish for not being able to move on, their thoughts swirling into a cacophony of miserable self-lamentation. Why, after all this time, can they still not cope? To themselves they are loathesome and burdensome enough already without being so stuck in the past, unable to move on. Everywhere they go and every painful night they drag their metaphorical dead childhood around as heavy emotional baggage. Meanwhile, every DAY, they square off against their LITERAL dead childhood friend, fighting and colluding with the feelings and shadow of someone they cannot let go. They grit their teeth thinking about the situation. The clock burns a bleak 2:33AM into their bleary eyes. The empty house sings its sickening silence as loud as it ever has. Unable to process their feelings very well, Kris prepares to punch the wall but opts to sock their own pillow a few times instead, followed by biting their hand, hard. They're thankful they didn't leave a mark that would be seen tomorrow. They need to sleep, anyway. Sleep now. They turn around to face the empty wall and put their head down for the night.
Kris isn't sure when they had fallen asleep, but find themselves in the same nightmare they've been having for a few days now. They're climbing a tower in the church dark world, holding on for life and making progress measured in inches as they feel the gaping maw of the void below them. A sense of urgency and dread permeates the air. They reach upwards for somewhere to place their hand, and they can almost feel what's coming; the dream always ends the same way, after all. Kris' grip will falter, and they fall swiftly into the dark where the Knight is waiting. They can feel the Knight watching them from somewhere below - they always can. Each time they extend their hand they are wracked with the anxiety that this time will be the slip, this will be the one that makes them fall. Except... for some reason this time the fall does not come. They place a trembling hand on top of the tower and pull themselves up, looking into the shadows below to see Susie just behind them. They see her reach out an apprehensive claw, to which they reach back only for the violet dragon to lose her grip and fall. A jolt of adrenaline and dismay courses through Kris. The same assuredly for Susie. Time stands still just long enough to see the the fear take over her eyes as she begins her fall backwards. A look of such deep, genuine fear they had never seen her wear before. And in a speed only possible in a dream, the Knight bolts up from the darkness below, blade drawn, flying towards the plummeting girl ready to-
"SUSIE!" Kris belts out, sitting upright in bed. They've sweat through their pajama shirt and struggle to catch raspy breaths. Their hands are shaking, and equally as sweaty. 3:21AM. They continue to gasp for air while they reel from the knightmare, fussing with their damp shirt before taking the garment off and throwing it in a crumpled pile upon the floor. Clammy hands make their way to their to chest, a pounding heart rattling its cage within the rattled cage. Their hands cross over each other and hold the opposite arms in a faux hug while Kris starts to rock back and forth staring into nothing.
It's not the Knight that scared them. It was their reaction. It was something Kris has pushed away for a long, long time.
Kris cared.
For the first time in what feels like years, Kris cared about someone; Susie.
This presented a horrifying new conflict for them. Caring about someone meant running the risk of being hurt. Of feeling the same gripping pain they felt as a child again should they lose her. They've kept themselves in a perpetually aloof stupor for years to avoid the pitfalls that come with allowing anyone close. And now they care. It's one thing to put on a polite enough face and tolerate people, to go through the motions. But now? The seal feels undone. They WANT something now, something really in front of them, and that thought made them feel selfish and sick.
"S...Susie..." they whimper, furrowing their brow. In their head their thoughts relay the same clinical, trite associations it has for weeks. Classmate. Prophecy sharer. Hot headed. Friendly enough. This isn't to say Kris has not grown closer to her over their adventures, but they've always kept everyone at an arms length; never truly allowing anyone to touch their emotional core. They have enough baggage and bigger things to worry about.
But underneath the rote information of what and who Susie is, a new sensation begins to percolate from the depths of their heart. In truth, it is not a new sensation, but rather one kept in the clutches of the dark for years. Now Kris begins to feel what Susie means to them. Strong. Safe. Loyal. Dependable. Not just friendly enough, but actually their friend. They've been ignoring it for their own selfish, misplaced peace of mind; and now they want it.
Kris shuts their eyes tight, an internal conflict arising as one part of them tries to block out these feelings and another seems to cry, yearn, and beg to let them stay. The mixed feelings and inner turmoil overwhelm and drown them. Tears begin to well up as they open their eyes and look around the room. The room feels like it stretches on. Asriel's bed feels so far away now, and the numbers on the clock mean nothing. All they can think is that they WANT. They WANT to be close to someone, they WANT to be comforted, and that clinical voice in their head says this is a disgusting selfish desire.
Their head is swimming as they begin to hyperventilate and fumble with their phone. It does not take long to scroll their sparsely populated contacts before tapping on Susie's and opening their texts. Their shaky hands drop the phone in front of them as tears quietly pelt the sheets of their bed. They simply just stare at their last exchange, ruminating on their feelings. Part of them wants to reach out so bad, to ask her to come over, or even just to check on her. They want to so bad it hurts. They are alone, scared, overwhelmed, and just want to hear from anyone that cares.
Please they think, choking back the first of many sobs to come, please don't leave me. Please be my friend. Please help me.
They keep looking over the room, as if hoping to miraculously find a solution to their unrest, but are met only with the silence of an empty house and facetious whimsy of glowing stars above the empty bed of their beloved sibling. The oppressive solitude breaks them.
"Nnnhhhh..." a trembling, gutteral whine escapes them as they pull a blanket up to their chest and hold it tight.
"M-mom...?" they call out to the empty house. No response. Another choked back sob, another whimper. "Azzy......?" Only cruel silence replies. Kris takes a sharp, shaky breath and begins to bawl. They put their fingers in their mouth, assuaging some kind of oral fixation between sobs that echo through the halls of the vacant home. "ELLY.......?" they manage to yell between sobs, sniffs, and hiccups. The loneliness is unyielding. They continue to cry until their face is hot and red. The screen of their phone, still unlocked, dims. "PLEASE, ANYONE........?" Nothing. "Please.... mom..." Completely helpless.
They take one last bleary eyed look around the room. ".....dess...?"
But nobody came.
Kris' phone locks itself. The room returns to darkness.
"Susie..... want Susie so bad, mama..." they sniffle to no one. "Susie so safe... Susie so strong and helpful and nice to me... I miss Susie safe friend nice... so good friend nice..."
Kris would not end up reaching out to their friend. They were not going to bring it up to her tomorrow, either. They did not want to burden her with their explosive emotional baggage, but maybe there is ONE person in their life they could speak to, one person they felt no guilt coming to. Kris fell asleep in tears at an unknown hour sometime before dawn, clutching their blanket while thinking about how comfortable they feel around Susie and the smell of her hair.
Tomorrow, they were going to visit Ralsei.
BONUS the pic I drew a couple months ago that this is roughly based on, figured it felt relevant enough and a nice treat for anyone making it this far. Don't expect this every time.
