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It is past midnight by the time Susie is called on.
She’s sitting in the lobby of the hospital. She has been for a long, long time. The LED lights buzz above her, droning in her ears— the only other noises she can make out are distant, hushed speech from another room that she can’t understand no matter how hard she strains and the squeaking of her own seat as she fidgets. The material of the sofa is sticky and uncomfortable. She shivers. Her light jacket isn’t making it feel any less cold.
The nurse has been in and out. She’s gotten her fair share of solemn, pitied glances from them— looks that tear right through her, that make her swallow and avert her eyes. She’s been gone for about an hour… or, she thinks, at least. Susie never learned to read a clock, but it feels like it.
It had been a long wait. Many, many people had visited the hospital that day, and many had been ushered down the hall before her. The Dreemurrs, of course, at separate times. Toriel had visited first, Asgore second; he had bowed his head and let her go before him. Both of them had looked at her like they desperately wanted to say something, but neither did. Catti had been inconsolable, tears staining her fur, Jockington curled around her arm in an attempt at comfort; Susie hadn’t been able to muster up a greeting. Ms. Alphys had come… Alvin, QC, and that Napstablook cop… Temmie, Monster Kid and Snowy had all visited together. She had stopped counting eventually.
It wasn’t a surprise she hadn’t been let in yet, no matter how early she’d arrived. Obviously, the Dreemurrs would be first. Their better, nicer classmates. Their teacher. All the residents of Hometown with something real going for them. She had just sat there, hugging her backpack, the whole time, without a word.
She jolts when the door cracks open.
“Miss Susie?” the nurse says. She looks up, the pit in her stomach churning. She’s prepared to be told to leave. That visiting hours are long over.
She isn’t.
“You can come see them now, if you wish.”
She almost wants to run, but she takes a breath, gives her bag one last squeeze, and stands, slinging it around her shoulder. The tears start to well up again— she blinks them away for the thousandth time.
“Okay,” she says, voice raspy from disuse.
Her footsteps echo as she walks, behind the nurse, head down, eyes trained on her dirty sneakers. She picks at a seam on her sleeve. When she forces herself to look up, they’re at the door. It’s pushed open, and she steps in.
“Mrs. Holiday asked to speak with you privately,” the nurse adds. “Take as long as you need.”
Carol looks up at her from where she’s kneeling, right beside Noelle’s hospital bed. Susie feels her blood run cold.
She shrinks. Tries to make herself small. Tries to disappear, to camouflage herself against the tile and the cutesy little seahorse wall decals. She can’t.
She wants to say it’s all her fault. That somehow, everything she’d done had led to this. That if she’d never come over— if she’d never picked up that guitar— if she hadn’t taken Noelle to the Festival— if she’d just insisted on keeping an eye on her and Kris instead of leaving them alone— if she’d gotten there earlier and known how to swim and went out to save them— then somehow, Noelle would still be here. That it’s all on her, like usual. That no matter how hard she tries, she’s always the bad kid and it’s always her fault and she is so, so, so fucking sorry. It’s all too much, and the excess of apologies plug up her throat. She can’t breathe. She forces herself to.
“Miss, um, Holiday,” she eventually mumbles, voice cracking on the fourth syllable, stumbling over her words, unable to meet her eyes. “I’m—”
Carol cuts her off when she pulls Susie into the tightest hug she’s ever felt.
She is colder than anything Susie’s ever touched. It’s a desperate kind of grasp, as if she’s her only real remaining lifeline— as if there’s nothing left for her to keep her grounded. The tears spill from Susie’s eyes. She can’t wipe them away fast enough. She buries her face in Carol’s shoulder.
“If you ever need anything.” Carol says to her. “A warm place to stay. Food to eat. New clothes.” Her voice wavers. “You come to me.” It is not just an offer. It is not something Susie is to argue with. “You come to me.”
When Carol pulls away, she looks directly into her eyes, hands on her shoulders. Her gaze is piercing. Susie can’t look away.
“You made her,” she says, “so happy.” It feels like an icicle to the chest. “And I’m so sorry.”
It’s the last thing she says before she stands, leaving the room behind. Susie just stands there in the silence for a minute, listening to her footsteps fade away.
She finally, finally, looks up to see Kris and Noelle.
They’re laying there, peacefully. Two beds, one on each side of the small, white room. Sterile. Their hair is still wet, but the leaves have been picked out and the dirt has been wiped from their faces. If she tries very hard, she can almost pretend they are asleep.
Noelle looks pale. It takes about a day post-mortem for a monster to really turn to dust, Susie remembers— at the moment, she’s just… greyer than usual. Kris is tinted blue, around the lips especially. Their hair is stuck to their face, covering their eyes. They had been changed from their waterlogged clothes into sterile, white robes.
“Hey guys,” she says, voice shaking. “Um, I— I brought everyone.”
She unzips her backpack and tugs a selection of items from it, placing them each on the ground between the two beds. A laptop. Playing cards. An old, patched-up plushie. Board game pieces. Dice. TV remotes and little figurines. A Halloween decoration. Books.
“I brought Lancer and Queen and, um, Seam, and Swatch, and… and Jevil and Rouxls and Jack, and… I just tried to gather everyone I could carry. I would’ve brought Tenna, too, but he— he was way too heavy.” She laughs through the hiccups and sniffles. “And I— I don’t know what the nurse woulda said.” She keeps one card in her hand, grasp tight, but very careful not to crumple it.
“This is— this is all my fault,” she says. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t of— I shoulda noticed, man. How did I— how did I not… see it coming?” She laughs again. It’s humorless.
“I wanted to— for a bit, I wanted to… make a fountain,” she admits. “That maybe if I— if I wished hard enough, it’d bring you both back. Like with… with the old man.” She fumbles with the card in her hands. “That I’d be able to… at least… ask why.” It’s becoming hard to speak with her throat so tight. She goes on anyway. “But Ralsei— Ralsei told me that…” She bites back a sob and exhales hard. “It wouldn’t really be… you anymore, anyway.”
She sits on the floor between the two beds, beside the small pile of items she’s made.
“God, man,” she says, rubbing her eyes so hard it’s started to really hurt, “why’d it gotta be you two? You’ve got— you’ve both got so much going for you. I mean— what am I supposed to…” She sits back against the wall, pulling her knees to her chest, burying her head up against them. “I was gonna— I was gonna ask if Noelle could… could come to Castle Town. And if she could have a room there, too, and— and meet everyone for real. I was gonna ask right after you… you were done talking.”
Her words are muffled, but she keeps talking, because she can’t stop.
“I wanted to learn piano,” she says, and it’s tiny and miserable. “And guitar— and I wanted to— to do homework together, with Ralsei, and… just… just hang out, at the diner, and the castle, and…” She laughs again. “Castle Town’s not gonna… be home without you, man. What am I gonna do?”
She makes herself steady her breathing.
“Of course I’m… I’m making it about me,” she spits. “You’re both fuckin’— gone, and I’m… I’m acting like I’m the worst off for it.” She unfolds herself from her sitting position, staring up at the ceiling.
The LEDs hurt her eyes. She keeps staring.
“What am I gonna do?”
She keeps staring.