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Kris closes their eyes and hones in on their chance.
They’re somewhere nice and peaceful and shit. Real disarming. A place where bad news hurts less, because you can only focus on how beautiful the scenery is and how happy you are to even be there in the first place. Somewhere like… the lake. Yeah. The lake is good.
So they’re at the lake, and Susie is sitting on the dirt with them, and they’re watching the waves, because that’s what they and Susie do. And they let her have that moment for as long as they think she needs it because she deserves it, or something. Some reason other than that they’re stalling. Because they’re not.
And because they’re not stalling, they need something to say. Something that’ll make their point make sense. So they turn to her and say “Has Noelle told you about her sister?”
Holy hell, no, that’s idiotic. Try again, Kris.
What they actually say is “I’m glad you’re settling in here.” Because they have a plan. And they can make it work.
So she says something about how, yeah, it’s nice, and then she goes back to looking at the water while the moonlight dances in her eyes.
Actually, no. That wouldn’t happen. This is Susie they’re talking about. Try again, Kris.
What she’d actually say is something more like how it took long enough. Or maybe that no, she actually isn’t, she’s just found somewhere she can blend in. Either works. Either gets them where they need to be.
So they say, yeah, it’s nice, because this place is so small that it’s impossible not to have eyes on you all the time. Everyone knows everything you’ve ever done and that never goes away. So it’s so nice to have someone who isn’t ever thinking about any of that. Or who is changing in spite of a town that never lets anything go.
She might not ask them what they mean by that. But for the sake of this continuing, they’ll say she does.
And it’s not like they can’t just say it anyways. Say that your past follows you around when you stay in one place for so long. That no matter how much you want to, sometimes you say or do things you just can’t run from. And sometimes that catches up to you really badly.
That’s when she’ll ask them what they mean by that for sure. With a little more gravity, and a little more anger.
So they’ll take a deep breath.
And they’ll start screaming. Just straight-up shrieking at the top of their lungs. Because Angel above, even in their head, this is so fucking terrifying. They need to get out. They need to make it stop. So they’ll just start screaming until they scare her away and they don’t have to deal with any of this anymore.
No. No, they’re okay. They won’t do that. They’ll do what they need to do. Try again, Kris.
They’ll say that they promised someone something. And they’re not sure what to do.
“Who?” Susie will ask through gritted teeth.
“Mayor Holiday,” they’ll say. “She made me promise… to help the Knight.”
But they won’t get farther than that, because they’re so stupid, they just realized, they’re at the fucking lake. They’re like, two feet from the water. Susie will just grab them and throw them in. Hold their head down so they can’t come back up. The Angel knows she’s strong enough to keep them there until they die. The Angel knows they’d deserve it.
Okay, Kris, try again. They’re not at the lake. They could be, like, on top of a tree overlooking the forest. But then, no, she could just push them down.
By the church? Well, what difference would that make? Stained glass panels are awfully sharp when someone is thrown through them, they’d be willing to bet.
Okay, maybe they don’t even need to be somewhere scenic at all. Maybe they can just stay in front of their house. Their mother would be right inside. She wouldn’t do anything if it meant Toriel would see, would it? She wouldn’t dare answer to her?
But, like, what would she do, then? Well, what did she do the last time? With Lancer? Well, first, she started laughing. And, well, that’s all she would really need to do. Laugh really loud. Just let herself go with all the anger she would be feeling. The walls of their house are not thick. Their mother could hear and come running. And then, suddenly, they would be the one having to answer to her. In the middle of the night, still in their day clothes, with Susie cackling like a maniac beside them.
“Go on, tell her!” She’d say. “Tell us everything you wanted to say!”
OKAY, so they can be at the lake. Just not actually in front of the lake. At the picnic tables near the back, maybe. And then, if things get ugly, they can turn and run towards town and their dad’s shop will be right there. Yeah. Okay, that works. That works fine.
But what will that change, really? Even if she doesn’t put them down for what she believes to be threatening the world as they know it, what do they really expect to happen? That she’ll forgive them? That she’ll say “I know how it feels to do things you don’t really want to do, so I don’t hate you”? That she’ll agree to help them lay low until they can find a way out of this?
No. That’s wishful thinking and they know it. They need to focus.
She’ll say what she said to Lancer. Out of anger, out of sadness, it doesn’t really matter. She’ll say she was stupid for thinking anyone would really want to be her friend. She’ll say it was so obvious they were just using her to get through the Dark Worlds, and she was an idiot for not seeing it sooner. She’ll blame herself. She’ll start thinking everyone else is doing the same thing. Noelle, Lancer, Ralsei—
Wait, they’re so stupid. It was so obvious. Castle Town. They’ll do it in Castle Town. Where her actual friends are. Where she can find comfort. Where they don’t have to worry so much if she beats them up or if she beats herself up.
But— no, Ralsei’s there. Ralsei can’t be there. He can’t be there because she’ll immediately look to him, searching for outrage in his face, before she remembers that he knows everything and he knew this. She’ll lose two of her closest friends in one day, because Ralsei’s guilty by association, Ralsei didn’t ask to know everything, Ralsei wants to bear the burden of truth alone. Ralsei cannot be there.
So they’ll bring her just outside of town, to where the cliffs end, and their conversation will go about how they expect it to, and then she’ll let out her frustration on them. And they’ll have done what they need to do. They’ll have avoided a worst-case scenario, where they need to make a decision in the heat of the moment, and Susie will fully expect it to be her. They’ll have risen above their selfish desire to keep this friendship intact, a friendship built off lies. That’s why they’re doing this in the first place.
Then what? Well, then there’ll be silence for a bit, they imagine. They’ll probably be too hurt to do or say much of anything.
So then it’ll be her turn.
“You’re a filthy traitor," she’ll say to them. When all they want is to stand by her no matter what.
“You’re nothing to me,” she’ll say to them. When she matters more to them than anything else.
“I never want to see you again,” she’ll say to them. When they can’t bear the thought of being without her.
“Don’t even think of trying to come back,” she’ll say to them. When this is just as much a haven of safety to them as it is to her. When they would spend the rest of their days here if they could.
And then she’ll leave them there to bleed.
Pain shoots through the palm of their hand. Their eyes shoot open and glance down to see blood glistening in the moonlight from their window. It surrounds unkempt fingernails embedded into skin. They hadn’t even noticed they were making a fist. And now they’re breathing, they’re all too aware of their breathing, because it’s too loud, too fast, and the blood is trickling slowly down their wrist, and their mother cannot see bloodstains on their sheets again. So they jump up and rush to the bathroom, but their footsteps are heavy and they’re sure they’ve woken her up, and so their breathing only gets louder because they can’t do what they need to do if she stops her. So they yank the faucet up and submerge their trembling hand into the water and wait for everything to go away, go away, go away—
“Kris?” There’s a soft knock at the door. “Are you alright, my child?”
They’ve lost their chance.