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It’s been a long time. They haven’t found themself at Noelle’s house in so, so long—let alone play the piano here. They can hear the faint laughter from Susie and Noelle somewhere else in the house. Weakness sags their body as they stalk their way over to the grand piano, hand gliding over the keys. It was still smooth as silk, clearly well taken care of.
Kris isn’t shocked, they knew Carol kept it pristine—it was part of her. Their relationship with the doe was..strained. They hated it, in a way, that she always invited them over. They knew what she wanted, who she wanted. Yet, in a selfish way, it felt good to be needed, even if it was manipulative. Even if all she wanted was for them to tear themself apart so that she could get her back. Dess back. They slide onto the bench, instinct taking over as they scoot into the perfect spot. They don’t even need sheet music, they don’t glance up to search for any.
They can feel freedom surge its way into their bones as they press that first note. Everything else came naturally, calloused hands sliding over the smooth ivory keys. Kris wasn’t one for playing around others, not anymore, not since they lost her. December was a massive influence on them, on their love of music. They can almost feel her guiding them to play, reminiscing about that first time she said “Wanna learn, Krissy?” They remember the way they’d frantically nodded, scrambling onto the does lap as she guided them along. They were only around 5, at that time, clunking around with the notes while Dess tried her best to teach them. She wasn’t a professional, she was still learning, but somehow it was leagues better.
They got a professional tutor eventually, sponsored by Carol after she saw their prowess with her own eyes one day. It didn’t feel the same, they couldn’t focus as easily. They hated the touch of the unfamiliar teacher, shuddering each time she’d guide their hands over the keys in the way Dess used to. It was Dess’ job, in their eyes.
They sigh, eyes falling closed as they get into the comfortable rhythm, finally setting on the song. That song. The one Dess composed herself, the one she taught only them. Slowly, their voice comes out in a shaky hum, thick globs of tears falling as they play. Fuck, they missed her. That’s why they’re doing this, why they strayed from Noelle, why they were working with Carol. They’d promised. She’d come to them, vulnerable, knowing they witnessed it. She could never pry it out of them, as much as she tried. It was like someone took a string to their vocal coords, whispering in their ears. They couldn’t even remember it, they were young when it happened. Maybe 10. They were 14 now, playing the song Dess wrote on the very piano she’d spent months workshopping it on. In some subconscious part of their brain they know Noelle can hear them, that Susie can. Noelle would recognize the melody, certainly. Susie might, if she recalls what they’d played with Tenna.
She’d never know it, that it was formally made as a duet for acoustic guitar and piano. That the original lyrics were written by December, although tweaked by Ralsei. Kris knew it was vulgar, that Ralsei wasn’t one for swearing, but they could feel their soul slowly shattering at how different it’d become. Time ages things, they know, but they wish they could go back. Back to Dess, back to the lessons, to singing alongside her as they stumbled over the piano and she played the guitar. They hang their head, stopping abruptly to sob. They remember the woods, dark and swallowing them whole. They remember the feeling of her hands wiping their tears, of the way she’d always taken them somewhere calm after each meltdown. She understood them the most over anyone, even better than Susie does now. She never made them feel useless for their autism, never looked at them in scorn when they struggled to articulate their needs or couldn’t stop the restless kick of their legs during lessons. Their psychology was always a mystery to everyone, even their mother. She’d never dealt with an autistic child, let alone a human one. Dess held them close and cooed them out of each and every breakdown caused by their family. She was there when they first came out, gifted them their first binder. The tears fall more steadily as they resume to play, hands shaking.
It was their fault. She disappeared because of them, because of their curiosity, of their issues. They hiccup, trying their best to hiccup the melody, tuning out the shuffling above them.
Noelle’s ears had flicked towards the sound the moment the first hesitant key had been strung, eyes widening. “Dude, is that, like, your ringtone or something?” Susie had asked, looking for the source. “No, no that’s,” she chokes up. “That’s Kris.” She’d almost forgotten they were here, that they’d been brought along, she was so focused on Susie that she’d forgotten her own childhood friend. “Huh, I mean, Toriel did say they used to play. I thought she was joking, or something,” Susie grunts out.
Noelle can feel the tears forming in her eyes as she recognizes the melody they played, sniffling when they paused for a moment. She almost wished they hadn’t kept going, because when she started up, her perceptive ears could hear the sobs mixed with their hums as they played. It’d gotten messier, her hand flying up to cover her mouth. “Woah—woah, woah, are you okay Noelle?” Susie had freaked out, inching closer to grab at the does face and wipe at her tears. She could recognize the sound too, just barely, it was just like the song that they’d played in Tenna’s show. “That song,” she murmured, eyes finding Noelle’s.
“It’s-” she chokes on her tears, “It’s Dess’ song, December’s song. My sister's song. Angel, I forgot they were the only one..” She searches Susie’s eyes, “The only one she ever taught it to.” The dragon's eyes softened, leaning forward to kiss Noelle’s tears away. “Do you want to go down there and tell them to stop?” She questions, brushing blonde curls out of Noelle’s face. She shakes her head, pulling herself up and grabbing Susie’s hand. “I wanna watch,” she whispers. “Be quiet, though. They..never liked playing around anyone other than Dess.”
Susie listens, slinking down the hall to a place where she could peer towards the living room. She can see their body, sagging down as their hands glide across the keys. She can hear it now, too, the sobs that mixed with hums. She doesn’t know why they’re so wrecked about this. She never saw them cry.
Kris had noticed the shuffling down the hall, but they were too engrossed in the music. Mumbling to themself at each and every little mistake they made. It would be better with Dess playing with them, strumming the guitar and singing along. Her voice was gravelly but gentle in a way that soothed their ever-aching body. Smooth brown fur with sky blue antlers and dark brown hair cut into a bob. Carol had always disliked the way Dess ‘destroyed’ her looks. They remember the look on her face as she shoved them away, yelling at them to “RUN, KRIS!” They recall the silhouette behind the trees, the screams, the sound of something hitting water. Of silence. Dess had always wanted to disappear, Kris thought. In a way, they thought it was her getting rid of them, making them run so that they couldn’t catch up to her. Maybe it was punishment for always bullying Elly, for putting bugs in her hair and making her climb trees without knowing how to get down.
They exhale, fingers finding the final notes. The ones they’d made up. Dess never got to finish it. She left, she died before she could write the final verse. Kris had tried and tried to make a good conclusion to the song in the months following her disappearance. They thought maybe she’d come back, that she’d be proud of them for finishing her final challenge. Kris remembers the look on Asriel’s face when he first found the wounds that mangled their wrists. It was the same disappointed look they got each time they drew the same crude tree in art therapy. He cleaned them up with disgruntled worry, careful not to scrub too hard at the drying blood. He never did it again.
They never stopped. Kris would slide the dull blade over their skin and revel in the way blood would slowly flood over the white layer of fascia. They shake their head, peeling themself away from the piano, disgust flooding their body as they look towards the girls. Red eyes peek out from their hair, for once, meeting wide irises before turning away. A hand slides its way into the thick sleeve of their sweater and runs its way over raised scars. They stumble away to grab their soul from its hiding place, making sure to clean up the remnants of chocolate milk on their way out of the house. Noelle and Susie don’t get a goodbye, they’re left with the haunting memory and the face of someone who knows too much.