Chapter Text
She was unsure what happened.
When Susie went to the festival, the last thing she recalled was getting ice cream for the two. When she returned, she found neither Kris nor Noelle there. She tried to convince herself that Noelle went home early after her talk with Kris. Maybe in the middle of it, her mother called and told her to screw off again like how she always does. And, in any case, the last place she wanted to be at was Noelle’s house. Not now, she thought – especially not after what had happened, and, especially not without Kris. In that case, she reasoned that Noelle was with her mom. But that wouldn't really explain where Kris was, would it?
She'd always wondered what the deal was between them. And, if she was to be honest, this wasn't helping that curiosity. But they wouldn't just disappear like that, would they? Even after yesterday. Even after everything that'd happened before...except for the fact that Kris hadn’t been at the festival all day. Maybe they were as shaken about what happened the night before as she was. She was having so much fun with Noelle; it escaped her mind. She reasoned they were stressed out. Anyone would be in their situation. She wasn’t in the place to judge, so she didn’t think about it much. Maybe she should have.
The lake. She pushed it out of her mind. She didn't want to assume the worst. She couldn’t bear the thought. Noelle went home. So did Kris. Which meant she’d have to go back there. As she walked up to Ms. Toriel's doorway, she felt a familiar lump in her throat as she remembered what happened yesterday. She didn't know what to make of it. She wasn't sure Kris did either. Yet here she was. Standing in front of the very place she reasoned Kris wasn’t. The very place she was trying to avoid all day. She balled up her hand into a fist and knocked on the door lightly.
She swallowed sharply and felt the dam break under Ms. Toriel’s stare. She had visible eyebags and a matching spaced-out look. Seeing her child’s friend caused her to smile.
“Susie?” She started. “Oh my goodness, it is so nice to see you after yesterday!”
Toriel pulled Susie into a warm hug. She smelled of honey and toast. Was she really in all day too? Even in her frustration, she couldn’t help but lean into her, tears forming at the corner of her eyes. The sunset cascading light across the green grass, and the banners and lights across town created a scene that would have been heartwarming, had the circumstances been different. Toriel's warm smile broke apart a few moments after she noticed the expression on Susie’s face. It was a familiar kind of sadness from Susie she hoped deep down she’d never have to see again. “Is something the matter, dear?”
“I...” Susie’s voice strained, the ice cream she’d held in her right hand having melted completely, “I can’t find Kris.”
#
The morning bedstand stood adjacent to the window, the blue morning light peaking out and creating a fragmented silhouette on her bed. The warmth of the light blanketed atop her eyelids, forcing her out of her bed to prepare for the day. Carol turned her head to a lined board that lay next to her bed, moving her hand across the red strings lining it before she heard a thud downstairs, causing her to jump in place.
After digging in her cabinet, she marched down her stairs, past the white walls and ceremoniously decorated walls down to investigate. She pointed the flashlight towards the kitchen and said, “Hello?” Carol’s voice’s deeper register echoed throughout the vacant house.
Noelle winced from the bright flashlight, a butterknife in hand. “Just me, Mom.” Noelle nibbled the toast and set the knife next to the plate.
Carol’s flashlight swung down to her side as her hand rose to her chest. She exhaled in relief.
“Dear God, Noelle, you frightened me.” She walked around the island, now directly parallel with her daughter, “You should be careful with that, it was expensive.”
Noelle faintly smiled. Despite her subtle grin, her eyes beamed with glee. What a relief. "Good morning to you too, Mom," Noelle started, "I'm sorry for making noise." Her tone was flat, a contrast which betrayed her smile. She sounded exhausted. In any case, Carol understood her well – on days like these, she too had trouble sleeping.
"It’s fine," Carol said. "Just make sure you freshen up before you go."
Seldom was there to talk about between Carol and Noelle these days. By the time she left the house, Noelle was still asleep; by the time Carol returned, she was studying in her room. And so, her waking up earlier was a welcome change in behavior. A sign that everything was progressing.
While Noelle finished her toast, Carol prepared herself coffee, a silence settling between them. The only sounds that lingered was Noelle’s munching and the clinking of Carol’s spoon against her mug.
She stood in the kitchen and leaned back on the island. “You’re looking forward to the festival, yes?”
Noelle turned to Carol as she stopped in her tracks. Her eyelids were low, almost completely shut as the rest of her body was covered in darkness from the dim lighting in the kitchen. Smiling still, she nodded, “Mhm.” She turned back to her toast prepared with crab-apple jam, which had been scrupulously prepared by her parents the previous fall, and stored in mason jars that were kept in the freezer to maintain freshness. The jar she’d used was still partially defrosting, with visible bits of ice still between the chunks of fruit spread across the bread. Noelle swallowed, “I wanted to get ready a bit early, but I can go back to my room if I’m making a lot of noise.”
Carol set the mug down and folded her arms, “I didn’t say that, I just said you should be careful with the utensils.” She gestured towards the butterknife, “It’s best we save money rather than spend too much of it on things we wouldn’t need to have fixed in the first place, had more caution been exercised.”
Noelle inaudibly mumbled out an “I understand.” And turned back to finish her toast.
Carol exhaled, straightening up before she walked towards the dishwasher and placed the cup inside as Noelle put her plate in the sink and started walking out of the kitchen.
“Noelle,” Carol called, almost yelling, still facing the sink washing her hands. Noelle came to a screeching halt. "Make sure you greet your father. I reckon he's informed you of his plans to attend the festival?”
"I know.”
"Good." She continued, "And, please, remind Kris that they are welcome to visit along with you."
Carol turned off the sink and turned to look at Noelle. She saw her smile with her mild overbite and that same glee that she’d noticed earlier.
“I couldn’t forget that,” she giggled.
Her tone was somber, again contrasting with her pleased disposition. If Carol did not know any better, she might have assumed that it was sarcasm.
After Noelle made her way back to her room in waiting for her date, the Mayor would begin her day formally by getting ready. Today, she decided to wear her blazer unbuttoned, as it would be warmer than usual. Her pearls, of course, were a necessary accessory regardless of the occasion. She debated for a few moments if it would be appropriate to wear earrings on this day. Electing to compromise, she kept a pair of bell accessories in her bag. It was years since she’d last worn them, and she told herself that she’d find an excuse again during one of the festivals to wear them as she departed the house by foot. This year, her husband would be there helping her with the festivities. It was a heartwarming sight, and a reminder that there was commonality to fall back onto, a baseline of sorts. She was not a big fan of the crowds nor the events themselves and the brouhaha they’d often bring along with them. Rather, it was simply a tradition she was tasked with the upkeep of as mayor. Of course, this was not something she was even close to being bitter about. Her time — along with that of her peers — had fully passed by then. And, even so, there was a point in her life where she also found certain aspects of it enjoyable, too. What was more important was the fact that her husband was in attendance this year, health restrictions notwithstanding.
"Hey!" Carol heard a familiar, animated voice call behind her. Limping out of the hospital doors was her husband with a smile on his face. "Don't ya think it's rude to leave me waiting in there like that?"
"Well, I did inform you to contact me by phone call of your plans before I arrived," said Carol.
"I did!" He laughed and waved her off, "Maybe consider keeping your phone on ring next time?"
"Oh hush," she dismissed him. "Anyway, I am pleased to see you, despite my difficulties contacting you."
Rudy nodded his head as he cleared his throat. "Anything for the boss."
"Surely you have a better nickname for me by now?"
"Agh! You're killing me!"
His laughter mixed with intermittent coughs until that was all that could be heard. Carol's eyes widened, and she jerked forwards before he stuck up a hand, preventing her from coming any further.
"No, no, it's–” cough. “–fine." He clutched his chest until the fit stopped, leaving him panting. His wife’s brow furrowed. He was more feeble than he was a few weeks ago.
She was not delusional about the state of his health. Nor the circumstances that would likely take place as it continued to deteriorate. Nor the reality that it would be long before things could return to normal. But, with everything in mind, she was sure that it would mend itself. Whether he wanted it to or not. "Rudolph..."
"Yeah?" He was still bent over, hands clinging to his knees and head hung low. He glanced up at Carol.
"We need to start setting up the lights."
He nodded feverishly, "Yeah, yeah, 'course!" He folded his arms, "Where do you wanna start..?"
"At my office." She said, "I trust in your ability to fend for yourself, however I think it is in our best interest if we stick together.”
Rudy chuckled, "You say that like my plan was to leave you behind in the first place."
"I know you wouldn’t do that."
"Do you, now?"
Her glare pierced through Rudy. He knew that gaze well enough to realize it wasn’t best to humor Carol right now.
"Come on, I'm messing with you!" He guffawed, "It’s just that I've haven’t seen you that much at all these past few days, really."
She sighed and looked towards the pavement as they started to walk towards her office, "My sincerest apologies." She began. "Mostly, I have been focused on festival preparations. This year has been harder than most.” She adjusted her navy blue blazer.
"Understandable."
Carol wasn’t good at being erroneous in the way a person could normally pull off. Oftentimes, when forced into that position by certain circumstances, she elected to tell half-truths. It was indeed true that it was harder to prepare for the festival this year. It was also true that she was working harder to compensate. The reasons for this hardship, however? She’d not been fully honest about it. It’s not like she would not need to be, anyway. Given her track record, it was a statistical improbability that she could not bear the brunt of it. Both of them had enough to worry about.
When they finally arrived at the Town Hall, Carol broke from Rudy, yanking the door open. “I have a few things I need to work on. I’ll return shortly.” Before she finally went in, she felt a tug on her sleeve. She turned to Rudy, who was looking at her with tented eyebrows.
“Carol.” Rudy said. “Before you disappear…could we talk for a second?”
“We can discuss whatever you need out here.” She said dryly.
“Wouldn’t it be better if we spoke inside?”
Carol didn't want anything to take time away from her work in her office. And, knowing Rudy, he would likely serve as a distraction. However, the labored expression on his face told her that whatever he wanted to speak with her about at that moment would’ve been better discussed privately -- even if it was early enough that townspeople wouldn’t hear. She sighed as she opened the door wide enough to let him follow her.. Carol took care to remember to lock the door behind her.
"What did you want to discuss?"
"So serious.” The last word was drawn out purposefully by Rudy.
"You're the one who asked.” Carol remarked. “Many matters demand my attention. It is a busy day.”
"So busy that we can’t have a five minute conversation?"
Carol pinched the bridge of her snout, "No." she continued, "I would rather not get distracted, though." she continued. "So, get on with it."
"What? Get on with— Okay." Rudy rolled his eyes. "Well, it's about Noelle."
Carol froze momentarily, looking at Rudy before crossing her arms.
"Alright," she said. “Go on.”
Rudy sighed. "Kris has been visiting me with a pal of theirs lately." Rudy began to fidget with his hands. "This friend…Noelle seems to be pretty fond of her." Rudy continued. "Anywho, I don't really know who she’s planning to go to the festival with, but–"
"Kris." Carol interjected.
“Oh?”
She nodded, “Yesterday, she told me that she planned to go see Kris.” Carol started. “And who exactly has Kris been bringing along with them to their hospital visits?”
Rudy pulled a chair to sit down in front of one of the desks. “I know you’re gonna be pissed.”
“Let’s get it over with, then.”
Carol pulled out a chair and sat across from Rudy. To an outsider, it looked like they were two political allies deep in negotiation. That wasn’t too far from the truth. They’d done this song and dance together many times before. It was routine at this point.
Rudy wheezed out a sigh, his throat sounding coarse and full of mucus, "You know Susie, right?”
Carol’s eyes narrowed as she raised one eyebrow before focusing her gaze back onto her husband. “Susie?”
“The girl who was in our house yesterday.”
The knowledge of who that was escaped her mind before she recalled the events of yesterday. Why she was there at all? She didn’t know. It seemed whenever Kris visited Noelle, they’d also brought their ‘friend’ along. Carol was not in any sort of position to judge, considering how closely she’d positioned herself in regards to Kris – given their relation to the Dreemurr household of course. Despite this, she couldn’t help but question the decision anyway.
“Pardon?... she was in your hospital room yesterday as well?”
“You say that like she damn near broke into it.”
“Wouldn’t put it past her.” The mayor leaned back, arms still crossed, “And how is this relevant, anyway?”
Rudy let out another labored, raspy sigh. Even at his age, he still found it difficult to have these sorts of conversations with her.
“I think she likes her,” he continued. “I mean, I don’t know what Kris and Noelle are planning for the festival today, but, what Noelle told me when she called yesterday was that she’s plannin’ to see Susie as well," he continued, “I just didn’t want it to be a surprise to you to see if you ran into the both of them today‘s all I’m saying.”
She exhaled in frustration, sitting back up. “Really?”
“I still think they will see one another, though.” Rudy started, “She was telling me how excited she was to see Kris, too. I think it just slipped from her mind.”
“You think so?” Carol struggled to mask her annoyance.
“Even if that isn’t the case, I mean, can you blame her?” he started, “You were pretty upset – makes sense she’d want to leave the harsher parts out of her story.”
“What is that supposed to imply?” Carol asked. “She’s begun lying now?”
"It means that she was nervous."
"Well, that much is obvious, Rudolph," she scoffed, "Why is it always you telling me these things instead of her?"
Rudy exhaled.
"It's obvious that you're trying, Carol. It's just… you’re a bit hard on her," he continued, "I want her to be able to talk to you, but it isn't like you make it easy."
Carol stared down Rudy for a few moments, balling up her fists on the table before sitting back down. She stiffened back up, back to her professional resolve as quickly as she shifted out of it in anger, "You're right," she conceded, "I do not make it easy, but it is expected that she informs the woman who raised her of her whereabouts."
The words were harsh and splintered out like venom.
"Especially at a time like this – with your condition." As clearly upset as she was, she kept a hard line between her resolve and her anger.
"That's true," he continued, "You’re allowed to be upset at her. You’re allowed to be upset at me, too."
Rudy shifted his chair frontward, which brought his face close to hers.
"All I ask is that you let her enjoy herself today with whoever she plans to spend that time with."
Carol was silent. She stared at Rudy with a vacant expression, her lips forming a low concave as she groaned. Still, this would not change her plans significantly. Rudy was aware of that to an extent. She had to keep pressing on. Opening up the cupboard, she retrieved a mug. She walked towards her office door, turning her back to Rudy.
"I do not care who Noelle is in attendance with at the festival," she said "All I care about is that she is able to handle herself. If she proves capable, then it is permissible. " She looked over her shoulder. "But next time, I'd like a direct notice from her, as well."
"Understood," Rudy nodded. "Thanks, boss!"
Carol rolled her eyes while Rudy reached out a hand to her. She trotted back towards him to unceremoniously shake his hand. "I wish you would call me something else."
"We must keep professionalism in the workplace at all times, no?" Rudy said, imitating Carol's somber, monotone voice.
She let go. "Well, I do have to leave now."
"Before you go," Rudy said, "I want to let you know that everything I do for you and Noelle... it's out of love." Carol tensed up for a second, her hand still on the doorknob when she heard those words leave Rudy’s mouth. "Everything’s slow these days. I get it." he continued. "But if you could just give her one day to enjoy herself, I don’t think you’ll regret it as much as you worry you will." He smiled as he stood up and sauntered towards her. "But most of all, I want to see you smile too, Carol."
Carol turned to Rudy, entirely silent. It seemed like, for the duration of their time together, they'd always be in this position. The mayor, endlessly resolute in her point of view, heels firmly dug into the ground, with her husband always there to soften the brunt of her will. It's not as if she disliked this. If that were the case, she would not have allowed him to plant a peck on her cheek moments later. But, did he really think this would keep her happy? She sighed, savoring it for a few moments before pulling away and finally turning the doorknob into her office. "Well, we both have work to do, then."
"I suppose so."
Contrary to their earlier agreement, the two of them would eventually part ways as the day continued on. Carol spent a decent amount of time in her office. Around sunset, she’d go back to her home, tasked with deciding the would-be festival king and queen. She wasn’t as invested as she used to be years ago. But, if she dug even further back into the recesses of her mind, she’d find the same kind of indifference. Life seems to have a baseline it returns to. Every single action has its equal and opposite reaction. It was not in her control to figure out how hard that pendulum would swing back.
She pulled out her phone and drafted a text. No response. Teenagers. Often variable in their moods and dispositions. It wasn’t like it was her child. And, today, it was likely that they were occupied, anyway, like they’d confirmed last night. She set her phone down and finished tallying the votes on the table. She pulled out a pen from her case and bit onto it before pulling the cap off with her mouth, papers held in her dominant hand. She neatly scribbled the results, then walked out of the house and behind the stage, informing her intern of the results as she passed off the corresponding winners’ announcement envelope. In a few hours, the festival would reach its head, and it would be back to business as usual. So, when the sunset’s light cascaded an orange hue across the town, she took a short walk to see the lights.
As she walked, she recalled their earlier discussion. It wasn’t uncommon for them to have that kind of back-and-forth. There was a time where those talks were commonplace after her disagreements with her daughter, the one who was no longer here. There was this one time, she remembered, where the fight they'd had caused a lingering silence between the two, lasting days. Carol gained no enjoyment from the ordeal; neither did her daughter. But their similar strong headed natures would often lead to metaphorical slap-fights that her husband would often be caught in between. So Carol learned silence. In her eyes, it was an effective method. Her husband was not enthusiastic about the approach, however. Neither was Noelle. It was an odd feeling for both when they’d arrive home and eat dinner together in a silent house where Rudy’s anecdotes would be the only noise in the room, but, if they were lucky, Noelle would share the adventures she had that day with Kris, Asriel, and her big sister.
She continued down the sidewalk and examined the lights. They were beautifully set up, sparkling the town in a beautiful technicolor haze that complimented the now fading orange glow of sunset. It was scenic. This one aspect of the festival she felt a fondness for, like a child walking into a candy store for the first time. That kind of feeling – it is hard to come by once you reach a certain age. It was her responsibility to make sure the festival continued on like this. Everyday, a new reason to keep working. The balance between work and reward, the natural order of things on planet earth, and the un-ceasing, constant oscillation of the two would ground her in darker days.
Memories of the discussion with her husband flashed in her mind. That evening, she practically threw on her thin blue pajamas over her white undershirt and her long, candy-cane mint patterned pajama pants. She was mumbling under her breath when her husband walked in, fresh out of the washroom, already changed, and holding a red mug. Back then, there was no sickness weighing him down. For better, and for worse.
"Carol."
She hurriedly buttoning up her clothes as she continued mumbling.
"Carol." he repeated, louder, hoping to cut through her murmuring.
"What do you need, Rudolph?" She snapped, irritated.
"What happened?" He started, leaning against the doorway with a freshly made cup of hot cocoa.
"What do you mean, 'what happened'?" She asked, “I corrected my daughter. She responded inappropriately, so I responded accordingly."
Rudy sighed. "You didn’t need to yell, though.”
Carol turned to him.
"I'm sorry, am I not allowed to parent my own child?" she walked towards him, her voice still low but her tone raspy, likely from the recent strain of her voice.
She turned the corner, and when she did, she noticed a point where lights simply stopped.
"Okay, calm down–”
"Goddammit! Don't tell me to calm down, Rudolph!" She shouted, flailing her hands out. "Have you ever considered the possibility she's been having all of these difficulties lately because she lacks structure in her life? I was the same way as a young teenager too! And yet, she refuses to take my advice! I have to just sit on the sidelines and watch her throw her life away because she can't get her shit together.”
She backed away from him.
"Anyone would go mad if they lived such a life. It's no wonder, is it?"
When she investigated further, she saw a monster lying on the ground.
Rudy was silent as he stood in place. He stared at Carol. His expression faded into a frown, before he smiled softly. He took a sip of his hot chocolate before walking into the room and closing the door behind him.
"Shoulda done that earlier, haha."
She crossed her arms.
"Look, we both have different ways of going about these things," he said, "I think it makes sense why you're going with your approach. It's the approach you always go with. But you need to understand – she doesn't choose to be this way."
She staggered towards the body, falling to her knees before she began to shake him in a frantic manner, yelling his name out as she did. Carol pulled out her phone and started to frantically dial, all of her calls forwarding to voicemail each time.
“It doesn’t matter whether or not she chose to be this way,” she muttered. “Nobody chooses who they are in this world.”
#
The landline phone stood connected to the wall. Just a couple days ago, she vaguely recalled using it to contact the police after she’d noticed her tires slashed. She couldn’t remember if they ever came. She wondered what use it would be to call them now, then.
"You said that you last saw them at the lake together, correct?" Toriel remarked, hands folded as she slightly slouched over. She kept dialing the phone. Over and over. Every time, it would go to Kris’s voicemail. Her voice shook slightly as she paced back and forth.
Susie scratched at the chair as her eyes wandered, searching for any sort of explanation she could give Toriel about what happened.
"I didn't... see them together exactly..." she started, "I just remember...I went to go get ice cream, 'n I told Kris I'd come back with some for Noelle and by the time I came back, they just weren’t there anymore."
Toriel's eyes darted back and forth as she stared at the carpet, trying to come up with an explanation that wouldn’t send her spiraling as she considered the worst case scenario. When she turned to Susie, Toriel saw her begin to fall into despair, shoving her head into her hands. She knelt down next to Susie, her palm making its way to her cheek to comfort her.
"Susie," she said. "No matter what happens, we will find them, alright?"
Deep down, she knew her words were unlikely to soothe Susie’s fears. It certainly wasn’t helping hers, after all. "I am sure they... they must have gone back to the holiday residence, right?"
Susie looked at Toriel again, shuddering before nodding her head, "Yeah, yeah, you're right." Susie parted ways from Toriel. "’Thing is... I'm..." Susie's voice shook once more, "I don't know if I want to go and check."
Toriel tilted her head. "Why is that, dear?"
Susie glanced at Toriel, her brow furrowed as she mumbled out, "I dunno if I'm allowed there right now."
Before she could respond, Susie burrowed her face back into Toriel’s arms. The tears spilled out as the dam that shattered earlier flooded again. Toriel held Susie in her arms again, cooing reassurance as she rubbed her back. It all felt hauntingly familiar. She wasn't sure if what she'd been saying was even helping. And, at that, even she could barely believe her own words. None of it made sense. It felt so familiar. So, maybe it did make sense. She just wasn’t ready to consider such a scenario quite yet. Whatever the case, Toriel reasoned that the best thing would be investigating their whereabouts.
"Susie." Toriel started, taking off her purple sweater to wipe the tears off her face, "I will make a visit to Noelle's house." She fixed Susie's blanket.
"If I am to be honest, I can understand why you would be anxious about going there yourself.” She walked towards the kitchen and began to make some toast for Susie. “So, I ask that you stay at this house tonight, okay?"
Susie didn’t respond, still crying, only more quietly now. She only managed a nod. It was late. Her head hung as she fought the urge to sleep.
Toriel was silent as she prepared the toast. Honey, butter, and bread. She repeated the words in her head. She took the bread out of the container. Bread. She placed it in the toaster before leaning back against the kitchen ledge. Was Kris acting unusual those past few days? She questioned herself. It was foolish of her to jump to the worst case scenario. Yet, it didn’t stop her from going over each and every interaction she’d had with her child in the past few days. The bread erupted out of the toaster. Saucer, butter, toast. She chided herself. Her hand pulled the toast out and threw it onto a plate. The bread scorched her hand. She jerked it away and hissed in pain. How could she be so careless? Butter, honey, toast. She pulled out a knife and spread the butter across the bread. She fetched honey from a cabinet and squeezed a generous amount onto the buttered toast.
By the time Toriel had finished preparing the food she met Susie on the couch, fast asleep... the sight broke her heart. She was still whimpering below her breath, but it was clear to Toriel she was out cold. She placed the toast next to Susie. Afterwards, she searched in her cabinets for a piece of paper. She scrawled down her phone number and some comforting words for the young teen and folded the paper neatly, tucking it below the plate. Then, she adjusted the covers that lay over Susie, blanketing it over most of her body.
The truth was she knew neither of them would sleep soundly that night. If she could choose, she would not step a single foot in the Holiday Residence. Maybe it was another act of carelessness on her part. But, it was better, she decided, to put both of their fears to rest sooner rather than later. She tossed on a jacket, donned her eyeglasses, and locked the door behind her as she finally departed to her neighbor’s. All she could hope was that the circumstances were not as frightening as they seemed.
#
The walk back home from the hospital was treacherous. She staggered back to her residence. Her eyes felt heavy. Her throat was sore despite not speaking much at all that day. Maybe she was coming down with a sickness. At this point, she considered time just having its way with her, like it would the rest of the town eventually.
Her phone died before she heard back from her daughter. Her anger masked behind a blank, emotionless slate. She thought of reprimanding Noelle when she'd gotten home. This kind of behavior need not be enabled. But, in her mind, she had bigger things to address now. This was nothing but a reminder to stay focused. The festival was long over now, despite the leftovers from such an event still remaining in front of her house. She shut the door behind her.
The house was quiet and desolate. Which was to be expected, given that the number of people who’d usually visit was slim. It seemed as though Noelle must have been aware of her foolishness that day, given her refusal to pick up her phone and the fact it was as though she wasn’t even home yet.
The light in the kitchen was on, a remnant of the morning from when Noelle had left. The light being the only sign of life in the house other than Carol. She walked up the stairs, each step heavier than the last. In front of Noelle's room she stood.
“Noelle.”
She knocked on the door. Her voice was hoarse. She was unable to make proper corrections in this state. Noelle didn't respond. “Open this door. Your father is unwell." she continued, “It would be best if you put an end to this fit and spoke to him.”
The words were harsh. She felt it necessary to be frank about the situation, but the very acknowledgement of the truth felt even more biting in her diction.
And yet, no reply from Noelle.
She opened her room door in silence. The only light was the glow that managed to pierce through the blinds and bathe her table, decorations, and bed in a dark, post sunset hue.
Carol’s heart sank. She staggered towards Noelle's bed. “Noelle!” she shouted. She grabbed the bedsheet and pulled it off the bed, but the only thing in sight was Noelle’s pillow. Her frantic breath rising and falling with haste inside her chest as she stepped back, disquieted at the sight. She searched throughout her room. Under her bed. In her closet. She was there for god knows how long looking before she realized that there was no possible way Noelle was in her room, and frankly, the manor in its entirety.
Being a leader of a place like Hometown taught Carol a few things. The first, which she’d learned by winning that first election, was that the only thing anyone ever judges an individual by what they offer to them, not who they are. And, as she heard a knock on the door, she was reminded of the second thing she’d learned after that fateful day many years ago: the ends always justified the means.
When Carol heard a knock at the door, she marched downstairs wielding a katana in her dominant hand. She held a fighting stance as the door swung open and she saw her staring back. She was sporting the same yellow heart necklace and her purple bag, reading glasses and all. She seemed just as frantic as Carol, but as usual it was wrapped beneath that sickening veneer of warmth she always had around her. She stepped back, shaking her head. In her mind, she knew deep down what this was.
“What are you doing here?” Her voice was shaky and hoarse still, holding onto the doorknob with a tight grip.
Toriel adjusted her glasses, “I will not bother you for long. But, I would like to know when Kris plans to come home.” She crossed her arms, “I do not mind them visiting after the festival, but I did not hear back from them, so I decided to ask–”
Carol slammed the door, locking it behind her. She fell to her knees. She couldn’t breathe. The air wouldn’t go through. She felt as though she was being suffocated. She pulled out her phone and desperately crawled for an outlet to plug it in to charge. There had to be a logical explanation. There was a logical explanation. Maybe Noelle and Kris went to see her husband. This could not be happening to her. It was not happening to her. Not again. Toriel kept knocking on the door and calling out Carol’s name.
“I do not know what problem you have with me but whatever it is, do not involve my child in your theatrics.” Toriel’s shaky voice pleaded repeatedly. Carol’s phone fell to the ground. She shoved her head in her hands and inhaled sharply. Then she wept. If she got it out sooner, she’d be able to maintain her composure later.
At a certain point the banging on the door stopped, as did Carol’s inaudible weeping. At her age, this sort of juvenile behavior was unbecoming of her. Her breathing was still varied, her makeup now stained, and her hands scratched from how hard she was unconsciously clenching the sharp end of the blade. She stood up and staggered towards a window. Gripping onto the blind with her left hand, she peeked her head through the window. Through the glass, she saw Toriel sitting back against her door. She was hunched back, rocking slightly as her hands were clasped together, words that couldn’t be heard from Carol’s side of the window were uttered as Toriel was deep in prayer.
What was the point in delaying the inevitable, anyway? Carol let go of the window blind, the moonlight through it being the only light left in the house. The now empty tray of snacks from the day before was still on the table via Asgore. She staggered back to the door, her under eyes swollen and puffy. She had no time to care for her presentation. Carol methodically fiddled with the lock, alerting Toriel who jerked in place before she stood up and faced the door.
She laid her eyes on the monster that stood in front of her, the words escaping her mind just as before. The usual tactics the Mayor employed would not work on her. Yet, seeing her clearly ruined make-up on her now neutral and blank-slate emotionless state caused Toriel’s stern gaze to soften, “Kris isn’t here,” she stated, her tone as flat as someone reading the news would have been. She balled up her fist, her eyes drifting down to the ground. “And neither is Noelle.”
She stumbled back, making way for Toriel to enter, “If you have any information about where they may be, we must discuss the matter now.”
Toriel’s eyes widened. Dark circles formed underneath as a result of her restlessness. It must have been late, past midnight at that point. Though, it was not as if either cared to know the time, anyway. “And, they have not called you, have they?
“I haven’t heard a thing from either all day.”
Her mouth opened and closed, her breath shallow as her gaze darted back and forth. She looked close to fainting as she floundered forward, whimpering quietly as she reached for something to hold onto. Something to ground her. “Have you asked Rudy what he knows?”
“It’s unlikely either of us will get the chance to do something like that ever again.”
Toriel's hands swung to cover her mouth as she stepped back..
“Oh my goodness,” she said, her voice almost a whisper, “You do not mean to say that…”
"He fell down today." She struggled as her voice crackled as if sick with a cold. Saying anything else was like dragging a stone across concrete. It was painful for the words to escape her mouth. She wasn't sure what else to say. What could she say in a situation like this? She inhaled sharply.
"I wondered if they went to the hospital, but I didn’t see them there." Carol stepped back into her home. "I don't intend to go and look for them tonight, and I would discourage you from doing the same."
"Excuse me?” She stepped closer, almost fully through the doorway.
Carol’s hand balled up into fists again, before her head turned, her gaze still neutral, but this time, there was a clear malice underlying her tone. "Wouldn't you have suggested the same yourself just days ago?"
"What in heaven’s name is that supposed to mean?" Toriel shuddered out, "Tell me, what did I do to earn this vitriol from you?” Her voice was raised, “Even now, Carol?”
Carol stared at Toriel. Her hair was tented over her face, creating a shadow that would engulf half of it. As soon as she felt that familiar lump in her throat, she marched back towards the door in a hasty manner. Then, using the entire force of her body, she threw herself onto the door to force Toriel out. But before she could, she stood in her way, pushing the door wide open. She groaned and kept pushing, as the two of them engaged in a mutual struggle for the entrance. Toriel placed her foot between the doorway, using it as leverage to keep the door open as wide as possible. Carol scowled and grunted. Without any regard for the consequences, the mayor rammed her side into the door again, causing Toriel to yelp in pain. Yet she maintained her force, and, using both forearms to absorb the shock, was able to manage a final thrust, which swung the door open. This caused Carol to topple over and fall onto the ground with a thud; The glasses she’d been wearing slipped off, shattering the lens as it hit the ground.
Toriel's breath was heavy, her foot still in pain from the sudden force Carol had put on it. She was angrier than she’d ever been in her entire life. And yet, she noticed something when she looked around the manor. It was frozen in time. Things hadn't even changed a bit since she'd last showed up there. She glanced down at Carol. The smaller monster was fully hunched over, still silent and trembling, her face obscured by the hair draped over it. Water droplets sprinkled on the cold hard tiled floor and she shoved her head into her palms. Carol’s hands gripped onto her own face so tightly, like she intended to rip it off herself. She shook back and forth before releasing her grip and gasping. Her mascara smudged every which way across her face.
Toriel’s body untensed as she knelt down. Carol’s gaze was fixated on the tear-splattered tile. It wasn’t long before Toriel's hands were visible on that same tile, too. She shut her eyes tight and sniffled, balling herself up in preparation for whatever the larger monster would do in an effort to break down the wall she was meticulously attempting to maintain between the two of them. She felt two hands on her shoulders. Carol jolted up and back, and before she could fully resist Toriel’s arms moved to envelop her.
It was no use struggling. Nor was there fighting the reality in front of them. Her head hung limp over Toriel’s shoulder. They wept in one another’s arms, Toriel clutched Carol’s slumping body. She was completely limp, as if there was not a soul inhabiting it.
“Whatever happened…we will figure it out together.” Toriel whispered.
Out of all of the things in life that were in constant flux and wane in the grand orchestra of life, there were a few constants. A baseline order of sorts. With her husband, it was his persistence in remaining by her side. Even when their marriage was tested. Even when both of them wondered if there was any good will. Even when it felt like there wasn’t any love left inside of the carcass of their previously idyllic familial life.
But, no matter how hard she struggled, or how much she’d try to avoid it, she could never change Toriel’s mind on certain convictions. It was a lesson that everyone in that group would come to learn. When it came to the safety of her children, the possibility of simply giving up on them overwrote her anger towards Carol. Or maybe that was a reductive way to view it. Maybe she was tired of watching things slowly fall apart, feeling a guilt of a similar nature to that which enveloped Carol years ago. Whatever the case was, Carol finally reciprocated her embrace.
“Disappearing is no longer an option for you, either.” Toriel said, her voice hollow and breathy. “Do you know the definition of insanity, Carol? It is doing the same thing over and over again, expecting a different result.”
Carol wasn’t sure how she could interlope passive aggression with such tenderness. It was sickening. She hated how easy she was to let in; she despised how hard she was to undermine. Before Carol could open her mouth to speak, Toriel shifted her back, hands now on her shoulders. Toriel’s brows furrowed.
“Well, my methods have changed,” said Carol.
“If that is the case, then, you need to tell me every single thing you know.” Toriel enunciated those last few words, gripping Carol’s shoulders even tighter, "Understood?"
If she’d known better, she would’ve lied. She would’ve told Toriel that the two of them were busy and then ventured out to go and fish them out of wherever they’d gone herself. She would’ve known better to not include someone as obtrusive as her in her work. And she did. But it was no longer a matter of protecting her own family anymore. And, truly, it hadn’t been for a while. The only option she had was to nod, stand back up, lead Toriel inside, and pour both of them some coffee.
#
“Hey, C!” Rudy ran over to Carol. “You really left me hanging back there, didja mean to walk out so early into the night?”
“I didn’t fancy the idea of staying, honestly.” Carol folded her hands, still walking away from the house party back to her own dorm. She didn’t care for functions like this at all ;she’d only come because she had time to waste. At least, that’s how she justified hanging out with him.
“Aww…” He started, “Well, that’s a real shame, ain’t it!” Rudy dug inside his pocket for a piece of paper, his tongue sticking out slightly. He was pictured wearing the same stupid orange overshirt with a dark green under, all with an unzipped hoodie over. He pulled out a small piece of paper with a number scrawled onto it, “Well, If you ever wanna hang out again, just call me.”
She rolled her eyes before she snatched the paper from his hands. She scanned the number before she folded it, stuffing it into her pocket. She adjusted her ponytail, “I’ll think about it. You should find another girl to bother with your nonsense in the meantime.”
Rudy laughed, “I doubt I’d find one like you.” He blurted out, only half–teasingly. “You’re cooler than you give yourself credit for.”
Carol felt her face heat up but she shot Rudy one last glare before walking back to her dorm. She would call him back, and speak to him like she did many times before. As much as she couldn’t stand his antics, it was nice to know someone looked forward to seeing her. It was nice to feel like she wasn’t worth giving up on. He never did, up to his very bitter end. Naturally then, it follows that she did not have the option to give up either. She would see this plan to its end.