Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

PART I: A QUEEN'S QUEST

Scene 1: Cool Gray Tears
or
“Death Report”

Against the backdrop of a glowing, fluctuating hall filled with the sounds of aching, the judge stared at a pile of dust.

What he felt at that moment was definitely negative, but it wasn’t disappointment.  It was dread.  Dread, mixed with a little curiosity, at the disappointment that others would soon be feeling all across the kingdom.  All because of a little pile of dust.  And a wall that wouldn’t stop moaning with the pain of its own existence.

The judge went forth and spread the word to the storytellers.  The storytellers spread the word to the royal guard, and the guard informed its captain.  The captain of the guard arrived in a rage, made a fuss, gave orders, and set a dozen things in motion before stamping home to complain to her neighbor.  But by that time, the judge was long gone.

A whisper of despair blew like a dust storm through the kingdom of monsters.

Meanwhile, in a living room on the fringe of the kingdom, the former queen sat reading one of her books for the eighty-third time.  It had been some years since her last reading of it, so the little tidbits were fresh for her enjoyment.

Number eight hundred sixty-one, she read, pronouncing each word aloud in her mind.  The tiny teeth that cover the radula are called 'denticles.'

Toriel paused to savor this word.  Denticles.  Small teeth.  Toothlets.  Dentinas!  Mini-choppers.  Chuckling, she sank a little deeper into her easy chair before deciding to continue forth to number eight hundred sixty-two.

It was at that moment her reverie was interrupted by twinkling droplets at the edge of vision.  Fearing that Whimsuns had invaded her house again, she promptly set down the book.  But it was only her friend Napstablook, forming from specks and nothingness in their peculiar fashion.

This was a relief… except that despite being her chief conduit to the outside world, the ghost had never appeared directly in Toriel’s home before.  Typically, if she saw them appear at all, it would be in the catacombs, submerged shyly into the floor, or behind a pillar.  Or inside a pillar.  She stiffened: something must be wrong.

Her incorporeal visitor, now fully formed, said nothing, only turning to not quite make eye contact.  Toriel waited in patient consternation.  She was determined to draw out the courage in Napstablook, to teach them basic politeness, which in this case meant them speaking first.  So she only drummed her fingers on the cover of her book, looking grim, until finally…

"ummmmmm, sorry to burst in like this.  i guess you must be pretty busy..."

Her fingers stilled with one last -plomp-.  “What is it, my friend?  Has something occurred?”

Napstablook looked away awkwardly—so much for partial eye contact.  “um… funny you should put it like that… because, well, the answer is yes, good job.  something did happen…”

Of course it had.  Toriel was nearly certain she knew what it was, too.  Only days before, her ninth child had passed all too briefly through her care.  She was not even justified in thinking of them as her child, as they had only spent a day with her, and yet she could not help it.  “And what was that?” she asked.

“…it’s a little awkward to talk about,” said Napstablook.

With this individual, that was hardly news.  Yet Toriel could see how it might indeed be awkward to inform a mother that, yet again, her child had perished at the unfathomably cruel hands of the one she used to love.  She had done everything in her power to stop this child from leaving, everything short of incapacitating them through battle or forcing them to kill her.  “I see,” she replied.

The ghost shied back a little.  "maybe it's better if i don't just tell you at all... that way you won't have to think about anyone from the past... i know it's awkward when people talk about my exes... and i don't even really have any exes..."

“It is all right, my friend.”  Of course, it was not all right.  But what could she say?  When this news had come in the past, it had been delivered by spiders, or by the tiny frogs who lived in the wall—all more able messengers than Napstablook.  Yet she would take the news of her child’s death however it came to her.  “You are speaking of King Asgore, I presume?  Am I right to infer that he has done something unspeakable?”

The ghost now seemed to be staring through their own body at the floor behind themselves.  Well, if the matter truly was unspeakable, she could hardly blame her informant for not speaking about it, could she?

She would bite the bullet and say it herself, then.  “My child.  My child is dead.  Is that what you have come to tell me?”  Her voice became a growl.  “That my ex-husband has murdered another innocent child, all in the name of war?”

“oh.  um, this is really is awkward.  no, not exactly…”

With a gasp, then, Toriel remembered.  This was the seventh.  If Asgore had successfully preserved his barbaric trophies, this one would tip the scales.  She rose to her full two-meter height, looming over the uneasy ghost.  “No,” she said.  “This is not like before, because this was his seventh soul.”  His seventh atrocity; his seventh foul stone cast into the abyssal river of sin.  “Has he broken the barrier then, Napstablook?  Is that what you have come to say?  That the barrier is destroyed, and we are free to wage war with humanity all over again?”  In truth, the prospect of freedom excited her, but not at the cost of seven innocent lives.

The snail farmer cringed.  “um… no…”

“No?  He has not broken it?  Does he plan to break it, then?”

“…ummmm… no…”

She felt her toes strain against the wooden floor.  “Did his plan fail, then?” she uttered, nearly spitting the words.  “Did he harvest his last innocent soul, only to discover that the legend was untrue, and that he could not break the barrier no matter how many children he butchered?!”

“i guess there’s no point in dragging it out,” said the ghost.  “he’s, uh.  he’s dead.”

Toriel’s ears twitched.  She unclenched her hands.  “Dead?”

Slowly, the ghost drifted back.  “…yeah… i heard from my neighbor.  that kid went to see him, but i guess they didn’t really get along… that happens sometimes, you know…”

Toriel stood in stunned silence.

“…anyway, that’s all i wanted to say.  i guess i’ll be going…  sorry for being such a drama queen about it all…”

“Wait!” she commanded.  Her voice broke; she could not believe what she found herself having to process.  “Are you telling me that Asgore… Asgore Dreemurr, King of Monsters… is dead?”

Napstablook stopped retreating.  “oh.  yeah, that’s the gist of it.  they went in to see him after the kid came through, but all they found was dust… so it’s looking pretty good for ‘dead’…”

Toriel broke.  She wept at first standing up, then collapsed into her easy chair and put her hands to her face.  She did not even know, at first, what she was weeping for, so unprepared had she been for this news.  But it came to her soon enough: she was weeping for the fact that it was all over.  Asgore.  The vendetta against humanity.  The quest for freedom, the ghastly collection, the endless parade of blood.  All of it, at long last, done!  She could not pull her hands away from her face.

“…well… i guess i could stay and cry with you a little,” she heard her companion offer.  “if that’s what you’re doing now.”

She beckoned uncoordinatedly and continued to weep.  Soon, the ghost’s presence was beside her, and before long she was deluged with their cool, gray tears.  Relieved of being the only one weeping, Toriel sank further into her cushions.  Soothed by the coolness of her companion’s tears, she presently fell asleep.

Dreams followed that touched on the distant past.  Images and memories of a son she would never see again, her son, of her own essence, flowed past, their emotional content tinged with the sea-green flavor of inevitability.  Waves of loss left their mark as she relived the pain of leaving Asgore, prolonged and embellished with dreamer’s fancy.   Memories of her first few days alone in the Ruins commingled with memories of her very first days in the Underground.  She had lived for far too long.  She sailed through ages of regret, distant hope, and sorrow.

When she woke, Toriel’s robe was dry.  The ghost’s tears were powerful, but they did not linger.  She was relaxed.  Her sadness was not gone, but it had found a place in her and settled.  Her tears were done.  She desired hope again.

When she looked to the floor, she found her incorporeal companion still present, lying at an oblique angle and staring at nothing.

Her mind now clear, Toriel began to wonder what came next.  With Asgore gone, who would lead the Underground?  Suddenly, with a rush of apprehension, she realized.  That duty fell to her.

“Napstablook?” she asked.

The figure rippled, reluctantly awakening.  “hm?”

“With Asgore gone… do you think the monsters will need someone new to lead them?”

The ghost blinked.  “i guess…  most people don’t like being unled, you know.  too much responsibility…”

Toriel paused over her next words, because these were not words one could take back.  But she was an honest monster, and after a deep breath, she forced herself to speak.  “In that case, I shall go to the castle, and I shall serve once more as queen.”  The words sounded hollow to her, as if they had merely been a line in a play, spoken by somebody else.

Napstablook peeled themselves up from the floor and failed again to establish eye contact.  “well… i guess you can do that, if you like… i wouldn’t stop you.  not that i could ever stop anyone from doing anything…”

She leaned over.  “But would you wish to stop me, my friend?”

“…ohhh… no… i don’t think the kingdom could really get a better queen than you…”

It was rather tepid encouragement, but Toriel would take it.  She would need support in what she was about to attempt.   She knew almost nothing of the state of the world beyond the Ruins—only that which Napstablook and her various penpals told her—but she did know that, despite her centuries of reclusion, she was still the queen.  She would be remiss if she did not go.  At long last, her leadership was needed again.

Toriel walked to the hallway mirror and looked herself over.  She put on a regal face.  How much leadership was left in her, after all this time?  Had she grown too soft?  Would she be a relic of a past era, hopelessly behind the times?

Would the monsters be receptive to her leadership?  What if, under Asgore’s rule, they had grown cruel or numb?

Well then, she decided, at the very least, she could set an example.  If she could not lead the monsters, she would at least show them how to live.  After all, Toriel had been living for a very long time.  That much, she was confident she could provide.

[+]

Chapter Text

Scene 2: The Queen Settles In
or
“But the Guard Refused to Serve”

Two figures in black metal stood before the rest, evidently keeping command of the company.  Behind them loomed the great front face of the castle.  As the white figure advanced to meet them, they drew their swords and held them at the ready with identical defensive motions.

“…who goes there?” said the taller of the two in a sharp, clipped voice.

“ohhh… well, if you’re asking who i am, i guess you could say i’m… nobody important.  i mean, that isn’t my name.  i’m not trying be clever.  i’m just trying to convey how unimportant i am compared to the person who sent me.”

“And like, who’s that, dude?” inquired the shorter, sturdier guard.

The ghost disintegrated bit by bit, leaving the shape of Toriel’s face behind as the last part to disintegrate.  The face’s placid expression turned confused as it vanished.  Moments later, the ghost reformed some distance away, and floated back to the guards in black.  “sorry… that was meant to be more dramatic than it was… maybe you saw the shape of my client’s head before I fell apart… or maybe you didn’t… but anyway, she’s… the rightful queen of the underground… she’s a lot more together than i am…  sorry, i’m not used to being an agent, really.  i’m more used to mixing…”

“You’re an agent, bro?” said the shorter guard, waving his sword with a little more gusto.

“…rightful queen?” repeated the other.

“ummm, well, she was married to asgore… and she lived alone for a long time in the old ruins, but a long time ago she was the queen… so she’s got… experience, i guess… you know what, why don’t you just talk to her… she’d probably explain this all better.”

The guards lined up before the castle watched this exchange with interest.  Toriel knew they must be afraid of what would come next, their futures in limbo.  She stepped forward to join Napstablook.  The visual impact of the scene did not escape her—two white figures facing two black figures against the largely gray backdrop of New Home.

Their swords crossed before her.  She tried not to wince.  “I am Toriel, once called Toriel Dreemurr, wife of Asgore and former queen of the realm.  Perhaps you remember me from your history books?”

The two leading guards exchanged a confused glance.  “Like, that sounds kinda familiar,” said one.  “And you do look pretty bossin’.”

“…boss monster,” said the other.

“Whoa, dude, you’re right!  She is a boss monster… just like Asgore!  You don’t suppose…”  He leaned in to whisper, but Toriel could still hear his voice.  “…that this is really Asgore in disguise, and he’s just playing a big prank?”

The taller guard stared back incredulously.

“No no, you’re right, bro.  That’d be silly.”  He looked back to Toriel.  “So you’re, like, the legit queen?”

“I am!”  Toriel bestowed her most comforting smile.  “And I wish to resume leadership so that you and your fellow guards not need be afraid.”

None of the guards behind the leaders spoke, but Toriel could tell they stood with renewed hope.  These monsters, at least, were glad to see her.  “02, like, what do you think?” asked the shorter guard.

“…new leader,” said the quiet one.

They turned to face Toriel in tandem.  “Well, I guess that’s it, then!  Do we, like, call you ‘Your Majesty,’ or what?”

“You may call me by the same title you called Asgore!” said Toriel, still smiling.

They exchanged a glance.  “He, uh… kinda told us to call him ‘King-a-ling,’ or ‘Mr. Gorey,’ or if we were really being formal…”

“…King Fluffybuns,” finished the other.

Toriel grimaced.  “’Your Majesty’ will be fine.”

“All right, Let’s get you secure in your place of power, Your Maj!  To the throne room!”

“well… since that seemed to go okay, i guess i’ll just head home,” said Napstablook.  “if that’s alright…”

It would have been a comfort to have their company, but Toriel knew she must not push.  “Thank you for accompanying me this far, my friend.  I will be in good hands now.”

“oh… i guess that’s good… i don’t really know about hands… i’ll see you later then, bye…”

“Until we meet again, my friend,” said Toriel, doing her best to stand tall.  Once the ghost was out of sight, she turned to her guards and clasped her hands loosely together in the way she remembered doing a millennium before.  “Let us go to the throne room,” she commanded.

The flowers, she had to admit, were a comfort.  At this stressful time, the presence of golden flowers (and assorted others) in Asgore’s throne room soothed both her nose and her soul.  She would have to continue tending the garden as Asgore had.  It also touched her that he had kept her throne for all this time, just in case she might happen to return.  Had he been hoping for reconciliation, she wondered, despite everything?  It was a beautiful thing to witness hope, she had to admit—even the hope of a murderer.

“Will she be here soon, do you think?” she asked the more talkative of her two chief guards.

Something crashed in the distance.  The elevator, Toriel imagined, had somehow impacted the top of its shaft, as if whoever had brought it to this level had made it arrive exceptionally hard.  She glanced at her guards in consternation.

“Dude!  Perfect timing, Your Maj!  I’m just gonna go ahead and announce Undyne, Captain of the Guard!”  Both guards raised their swords in salute.

Toriel began to rise before recalling that as reigning monarch, she was expected to sit.  She sat tight as a series of loud noises advanced up the hall.  The two guards went to the double doors and pulled them carefully open.

A blue-faced figure in black was revealed, her face simultaneously consternated and angry.  Her piscine features (save for one eye hidden by a black patch) seemed like they were accustomed to these emotions.  Her every muscle quivering, the figure looked at the open doors, seized them by the handles, and slammed them shut on herself, apparently just for the purpose of slamming them.  Moments later, she crashed through again, raising dust and knocking one door off its hinge.

Toriel cringed back in her seat.  Would her guards protect her?  Had they been unwise to leave the others outside?  But they only raised their swords higher in martial fashion, making it clear that this was, indeed, their captain.

The captain was pink-haired, Toriel now saw.  Pink hair on a fish—that must have taken extraordinary force of will to grow, as fish were normally hairless!  She also had no trouble walking on land, apart from the fact that every step was a stomp.

Once within polite speaking distance, the captain proceeded to shout as if she were still across the room.  “You!!” she bellowed, pointing at Toriel.  “You’re pretending to be our queen?!”

It had seemed too easy.  Knowing that this was a situation that must be handled at once, Toriel stood.  “I am the queen.  I was queen long ago, and I am still queen.  It is true that I left for a while.  But now I am back.”

The pink-haired captain grinned horribly.  “Seahorse pockey!  Anyone could say that!”  Her pointing arm redoubled its thrust.  “If you’re the queen, prove it!

Toriel had almost hoped to assume the throne without any sort of authentication, but this captain was clearly less trusting than her company.  “How shall I prove it?” she asked.  “Shall I recite facts about the history of our people?  I was there when we retreated into the Underground.  It was my husband, King Asgore, who named this city."

“So you’re the ex Asgore never liked talking about?”  The angry fish steamed as she considered this.  “You know what?  If you were married to Asgore, you should be able to tell us FACTS about him!  Things his wife would have to know!”

Toriel stifled the urge to swallow.  “That is reasonable,” she replied.

The captain straightened up smugly, as though she had already triumphed.  “Number one,” she declared.  “What was Asgore’s favorite combat move?”

Now Toriel panicked internally.  Combat move?  She had no idea!  The last time she had seen Asgore in true combat, they had still dwelt on the surface!  “I am afraid I do not remember!  That was a long time ago.  I could tell you his favorite song, however, or his favorite kind of soup, or… or his favorite star.”

The captain reacted with anger.  "I don't know ANY of that nonsense!  I asked you his favorite combat move, and if you really were his wife, you would KNOW it!"

Toriel scowled, though she suspected it would not help her chances.  “The husband I knew was not a destroyer of men,” she countered.  Until he became one, she did not add.  “He was a staunch defender of peace.”

Now the captain’s grin grew disturbingly large and toothy.  “He was, huh?  Well, he taught me to fight!”  She tapped her breastplate twice, hard.  “And his best move was the Double Rain of Fire!”  She shot forward, waving her arms and slipping in curved paths to mimic chains of deadly fireballs.  “You don’t know that, you weren't really married to him at all!"

"I was his wife and constant companion for centuries!" Toriel retorted.  She might have tried guessing the attack—she had her own that was similar to what the guard had shown her.  This was distressing: she was losing her even disposition.

“Number two!” the fish guard continued.  “What was Asgore’s greatest fear?”

This one, Toriel reflected, she ought to know.  Had they not shared their hopes and fears together on many a night beneath the sparkling stones?  Yet no clear answer occurred to her.

The captain’s ribbed ears expanded.  “Well?!”

Toriel ventured the answer most likely to be true, even if it wasn’t what her inquisitor wanted to hear.  “He feared that the barrier keeping us from the surface would never be broken.  That hope would never lead to freedom, and that we would never make our peace with humankind.”

“WRONG!”  With a brief flash of that white grin, the irascible warrior leapt and landed nearly within reach of Toriel, shaking the floor.  “His greatest fear was that he would die alone!”

She actually cackled as she made that grim pronouncement.  Toriel’s heart was menaced: was it true?  Had dying alone really been Asgore’s greatest fear after she left him?  And… and had it come to pass?

“Asgore,” she whispered, staring.

“DON’T GIVE ME THAT!” yelled the captain.  “He meant nothing to you!  You probably never met him at all!"

Toriel could not muster the will to respond to this.  Instead, she was imagining her erstwhile husband confessing his heartfelt fear to this warrior.  “And he did die alone!” she moaned in despair.

“What?  NO!” cried the captain.  She clanged a heavy gauntlet to her breast.  “He had me!  I was with him to the end!  His most loyal friend!  …Unless of course you mean it in the literal sense, in which case, no, I wasn’t in the room, the human got past me and humiliated me, but at least the human was in the room when it killed him!  So he wasn’t alone in the literal sense, either!”

How comforting.  “Captain,” said Toriel.  “I could speak to you at length about Asgore’s inner life, even if I cannot guess the precise answers you are looking for.”

“I’m not your captain,” hissed the fish.  She swung her stare to the other guards.  “This is an impostor!” she declared to them.  “Seize her!  She’s no more queen of the Underground than I am!”

The two guards oscillated uncertainly.  Toriel suspected that they would obey.  In a panic, she stood and exclaimed: “Wait!  The leader of the spiders will vouch for me!”

The three eyed her with puzzlement.

“Really!” she insisted.  “Even if no one still lives from before I went away, Muffet at least knows who I am.  We have been in correspondence, thanks to her subjects small enough to crawl through the cracks in the catacomb walls.  What is more, the ghost who runs the Waterfall snail farm knows me, as does the shy singer from that region.  There is even a sentry in Snowdin Forest who knows my voice through the door!

“..can check,” said the quiet guard.

The captain glared at him, then at Toriel, frowning deeply.  “Are you saying you want us to just trust a few random monsters?  For all I know, you’ve paid them off!”

Toriel glared firmly back. “Ask them questions about their relationship with me.  Check their accounts against one another.  You will see that they are genuine.”

The captain fumed.  Finally, she wheeled her arm around as if to hurl down a spear she did not carry.  “Fine!” she snapped.  “We’ll check their stories.  But don’t expect me to answer to you in the meantime, ‘Toriel’!  My gut tells me you’re not the real queen.  Heck, you could even be the one who stole the human souls!”  She turned to the others.  “You two!  Until we know for sure, keep an eye on her.  Make sure she doesn’t steal anything, including the monsters’ hearts!  Don’t let her into the coffin room, and don’t treat her too nicely!”

The two saluted with their swords.  The captain cast one last smoldering glare at Toriel, then stamped away, smashing the doors open again on her way out.  They were not built to open either way; one fell off its hinges entirely.

Toriel stared after for a few moments.  Carefully, then, she inhaled the scent of flowers, seated herself, and made an effort to regain her earlier serenity.

The guards remained silent.  Toriel was grateful.  “I dare say that could have gone better,” she assessed.  “What do you two think?”

“…” said the taller guard.

“That is curious!  You remind me of my friend Napstablook when you say things like that.”

“…” he continued.

A bright point occurred to Toriel.  “It is certainly unfortunate that I could not win your captain’s trust, but I can only presume that she is suffering from a great deal of pressure.  Did she not say that the human souls had been stolen?”

“That’s right, Your Maj,” said the shorter guard.  “They just, like, disappeared!”

“So the king is suddenly gone, and his plan for freedom has gone with him.  No doubt your captain was bound to release her anger upon somebody!  If so, I am just as glad that it was me.  I am accustomed to dealing with the occasional tantrum.”

The quiet guard cleared his throat.

Toriel hoped that she was being charming.  “Yes?  Do you have something to say?”

He swung his sword in the direction of the departed captain.  “Testy.”

“I rather agree,” said Toriel, relieved that he seemed to be sympathetic.  “But I must ask—do you agree with your captain’s sentiments?”

His partner spoke up, undulating as he did.  “Like, Your Maj, I totally believe you’re the queen!  And I’m sure 02 does too, right, bro?  Undyne’s just choked up about everything.  She was maybe more gung-ho than anyone about breaking us free.”

Toriel was personally not terribly upset to hear that the collection of souls was gone.  She had opposed it from the start and found it unconscionable.  She was not even particularly eager to return her people to the surface, given that further strife and perhaps warfare would undoubtedly greet them there.  Still, she respected the desire for freedom as a healthy one, at least in theory.  “I hope she has not been telling people about the loss of the souls.  It would be better for us to keep that to ourselves until we have decided what to do about it.”

“Sure thing!” said the more talkative guard.  “But still, she is, like, our captain.  We’ve gotta follow her orders.”

Toriel folded her hands irately.  “Even to the point of not treating me nicely until my identity is proven?”

“…too nicely,” clarified the taller guard.

“Very then, then.  You may treat me with the precise amount of niceness you believe is appropriate, and not an iota more.”

The guards nodded, swaying slightly in unison.

Toriel reflected, sitting more deeply.  “It may be just as well that Captain Undyne stormed out.  I suspect she probably would not have been receptive to the subject I summoned her to discuss.”

The taller guard stretched in a manner that was somehow inquisitive.

“I am considering disbanding the royal guard,” she explained.

The two looked uneasily at one another.  “…disbanding?” inquired the tall one.

Toriel pressed her arms firmly to the padding of her throne.  “The guard does nothing but protect me and attempt to capture humans, does it?  I personally do not feel that I need a guard.  I am capable of defending myself.  And if I am met with a strong and devoted force that I cannot handle… well, perhaps it is right that I should be overpowered.”

“…surely,” protested the tall guard.

“The monarch serves the people, does she not?  If the monsters of the kingdom wish so fervently to be rid of me that they raise an army against me, who am I to say they are wrong?  I may be wiser than the average monster, but I am hardly wiser than all monsterkind.”  She knew her logic was strange, but she believed deeply in it.  “As for capturing humans, I am ready to put an end to that.  If any more should enter our domain, I am inclined to treat them with kindness until they prove unworthy.  It is important to give people the benefit of the doubt.”

The two guards stared at her in shock.  Oh dear.  Had she lost them?

“Am I so wrong?” she asked.  “If so, please tell me what I am missing.”

The more talkative guard gulped.  Uh… well, that’s one way to look at it, your bodaciousness, but think about it!  If you disband the guard… like, we won’t have jobs!  And that’s groovy for me, I guess, ‘cause I could go back to magma surfing, but what about 02?  Like, this is his life!”

It saddened Toriel to think that anyone’s ‘life’ could be dedicated to violence, even for the purpose of preventing other violence.  “Do not mistake me—I would gladly retain the two of you as attendants.  But I am not convinced that the rest of the guard serves a useful purpose.”

“…” said the quiet guard, raising his sword a little higher.

“Well, we totally like to think of ourselves as useful, if that matters,” said the other.

Toriel sighed.  She could hardly expect that royal guards would be in favor of their own institution’s dissolution.  “Let us table the issue for now,” she decided, trying to strike a more optimistic tone.  “There is plenty to consider first.  For one thing, I would like to meet my royal staff!”

“Oh, sure, right on!” said the talkative guard, after which he immediately fell silent.

“…well?” asked Toriel.  “Will you not summon them?”

“Uh… who exactly do you want me to summon, Your Maj?”

“Surely there must be more than just the guard!”

“Well, there is that funny little guy who comes around sometimes… but I think he ditched us when Asgore kicked it.”

“There is no one else living in the castle?” Toriel asked in disbelief.  She strove to remember names and faces from long ago—what were the standard royal posts?  “Oh!  Do I have a royal scientist?”

The shorter guard nodded enthusiastically, apparently in relief.  “You sure do, Your Maj!  She’s got a lab in Hotland!”

This was intriguing—the chief scientist of the Underground was female?  It had not surprised Toriel to find a woman in charge of the guard, for she knew well the controlled ferocity a woman could conjure in support of her cause.  But the royal scientist?  To her mind, science was a more masculine pursuit.  Which was not to say a woman could not do well at it, of course—it simply surprised her.

“Excellent!  In that case, perhaps I should pay her a call.”

The quiet guard shifted uncomfortably.  “…”

Toriel raised a thick eyebrow.

“…she’s… jumpy.”

“Jumpy?” she inquired.

The other guard jumped in.  “So what I think 02’s getting at is, uh… she might not be too happy if the queen just, like, dropped in all of a sudden.”

That was certainly fair.  “I see!  Well, in that case, I suppose I shall call her.  May I assume that she has a phone?”

The pair looked uncomfortable.

“…Do you mean to tell me that the royal scientist of the Kingdom of Monsters does not possess a phone?”

“Oh, she’s got a phone.  It’s just, uh…”

“…jumpy.”

Toriel lowered her eyebrows.  “Am I to take it that even an unexpected phone call might upset her?”

They nodded in uncanny synchronization.

Toriel sighed.  “I suppose that sending her a letter is the polite thing to do, then.”

The two exchanged yet another uneasy look.

She folded her hands.  “Now, really!”

“Uh… well, Your Wooliness, it’s just that she gets a ton of mail these days, and it kinda piles up, you know?  She even got rid of her mailslot!  But, like, whenever I pass by, there’s still mail!”

“…under the door.”

“This is hardly acceptable,” said Toriel.  “Do you know for a fact that she is even still at home?”

“…she goes to the dump,” said the quiet guard.

“Yeah, she’s around, but I think she’s actually afraid of mail,” said the talkative one.

This was becoming ridiculous.  “In that case, with what form of communication is she comfortable?”

“…undernet.”

“I beg your pardon?” said Toriel.

“Like, the Undernet?  Are you familiar with it?  It’s like, a series of tubes.  It’s tubular!”

How quaint.  “And it does what, precisely?”

“It lets you, um…”

“…talk to computers.”

Toriel leaned forward, doing her best to maintain her patience.  “I see!  And those are?”

The guards were getting more uncomfortable by the moment.  “You don’t know computers?  Well, uh… they, like, let you… compute stuff!”

She raised an eyebrow.

“…cat videos,” said the other guard.

“Oh!”  Now that was something Toriel could understand.  “Well, why did you not say so before?”  She folded her hands neatly in her lap and took a prim breath.  “Now then.  Please tell me more about this ‘Undernet’.”

[++]

Chapter Text

Scene 3: Chain of Communication
or
“Royalty Approaching”

Alphys was mixing amalgamate chow deep in her secret lab when she got a notification.  That wasn’t any surprise—she had enough online games and conversations going that she’d typically get a notification every nine and a half minutes, on average.  That was the background level she’d determined was best at keeping her stimulated, but not too stimulated.

But this wasn’t a notice that she was on turn in a correspondence game of Gem Swapper, or a new Spooktune on MusicDump, or even a rare new post on her mostly empty Mew Mew Kissy Cutie forum.  It was a private message from a usename she didn’t recognize, QueenToriel.  She stepped away from the counter to read the message:

"Dear Royal Scientist Alphys:

I do not mean to alarm you, but there is a letter waiting for you under your door.  It is longer and narrower than most of the other letters, and it is affixed with the royal seal of the Kingdom of Monsters.  I say this so that you will be able to find it among all of your other mail.

Sincerely, Queen Toriel."

Alphys was confounded.  Was this another one of her patients’ angry relations?  If so, why was she being tricky about things instead of just saying so?  And why was she calling herself a queen?  The Kingdom of Monsters hadn’t had a queen since well before Alphys was born.

What’s more, why had she sent an Undernet message just to say there was a letter waiting for her?  Why not just say whatever she had to say over the Undernet?

This was going to bug Alphys.  She’d been bugged often enough that she knew when something was going keep bugging her, and this was one of those things.  So, with a nervous sigh, the scientist took the elevator back up to the public lab.  She slowly opened the door and peeked out, just in case someone was there.  Mettaton didn’t come by much these days, but there’d been a time when it wasn’t unknown for him to surprise her from out of nowhere with an unnerving “HELLO, DARLING!”

But no one was there, so she crept over to the massive, quivering pile of mail stuffed tightly beneath the door.  Kneeling, she reached hesitantly for the first piece.  Just in case it happened to bear some name that brought painful emotions to mind, she closed her eyes before taking hold and pulling.

A flurry of paper cascaded to the lab floor and slid halfway under her workbench.

Alphys sighed.  She went about pulling in mail until none of it was under the door—it was all on her floor instead.  Then the long, narrow envelope with a circular design in red caught her eye.  The legendary delta rune was part of it, but it had... ears?  Long floppy ears?  She tut-tutted and carefully opened it to read the letter inside.

"From the Desk of Queen Toriel

Dear Royal Scientist Alphys:

I hope that you received the message that I sent you using the Undernet.  I am not familiar with the Undernet, so it is possible that I had trouble sending it.  If so, please disregard this portion of the letter you are reading.

I am writing to let you know that I will be giving you a telephone call soon.  Please do not be surprised or alarmed when it occurs.  I only wish to talk to you.

Best regards,

Queen Toriel of the Kingdom of Monsters"

Alphys had barely finished reading the letter when her cell phone rang.  She lowered the piece of paper in shock.

The theme from Ningyo no jōnetsu continued to repeat.  Alphys burst into action, skirting furniture and bumping into things in an attempt to get to her phone, which she'd left by the surveillance monitor.  She grabbed the phone and answered it, trembling.  "He--hello?"

The voice was feminine, well tempered and kindly.  "Hello!  Am I speaking to Dr. Alphys, the royal scientist?"

Alphys briefly considered lying.  "Y-yes?"

"Dr. Alphys!  I am Queen Toriel.  I'm delighted to hear your voice at last!  Did you receive my message and my letter?"

"Um... yes, I..."

"Then you were not unduly surprised at my phone call?"

"Um, no, I guess I... knew it was coming?"

"That is excellent!  I am very pleased.  Dr. Alphys, as you are my official royal scientist, I think it would be most appropriate for me to meet you."

"Uhh... your 'official...?'  So you really are the..."

"One might even call it 'meet' for us to meet!" continued the voice with unbridled delight.  "That is an old-fashioned word meaning 'appropriate', you know."

"Whoa, hold on… so you really are the queen?  Of the Underground?  That isn't just your... screenname?"

“I am,” said the voice on the other end, no longer so jovial.  "The king is gone, and I have come to rule in his place."

Oh no.  Alphys shuddered and swallowed.  Did that mean that the human had really…?  "King Asgore is… gone?"

"I am afraid so," said the queen.

Alphys hid her face in her hands.  She stayed that way until she heard the muffled voice coming from the phone in her hand.  "Hello?  Are you still there, Dr. Alphys?"

She scrambled.  "Yes!  Yes, I'm still here.  But—is King Asgore really—I should never have—what have I—”  God, Alphys, she thought to herself, you’ve really done it this time.

The voice was quiet a while.  "You seem very upset, doctor!  Can you tell me why?"

No, she couldn’t.  She couldn’t say what she’d done, and who was this queen, anyway?  "I'm sorry, but... I wasn’t aware the Underground even had a queen.  Was it 'Toriel'?  Um, can you explain… where you came from?"

"I was away, in the Ruins.  Now I am back.  I came back because someone had to rule the kingdom."

The ruins?  "Y-you mean the old catacombs from when monsterkind had just been forced underground, before we... made our new home?"

"Precisely.  It pains me to say it, doctor, but King Asgore was once my husband.  He was the king and I was the queen."

“Oh!”  Well, that explained it.  Asgore had spoken now and then about his wife, who’d left long ago.  He’d never mentioned her name, though, and Alphys had no idea she was still alive.  "But wh... why did you leave?"

A long pause.  "I left because there was nothing more keeping us together.  And that is all I would prefer to say about it."

"Um... ok?"

"Dr. Alphys, I was calling only to say that I would like to meet you in person.  I understand that you have been working on some important projects, and I would like to see them for myself."

Crud!  Oh crud oh crud oh crud...  "Um... well..."  The voice on the phone was silent, patiently waiting.  What could Alphys say?  "I kind of... work better when I'm alone?  Without showing anything to... anyone?"

Another pause.  "I see," said the queen.  "Well, perhaps you would prefer to visit me in the castle?  I would be glad to make dinner for us tomorrow."

"That... does sound better."

"I did not want to distress you by showing up unannounced."

"No... I appreciate that.  Thank you, y... your majesty."

"And I look forward to hearing all about your current work."

CRUD!  "Uh... I'll be glad to share it with you!  Your, uh.  Majesty."

"Excellent.  In that case, I will see you tomorrow night.  I have just one question."

Alphys's blood was starting to run cold.  PLEASE don't ask about Asgore's death!  "Uh, wh... what's that, your majesty?"

"Do you prefer cardamom?  Or marjoram?"

Did she prefer what, now?  Alphys wasn’t honestly sure she’d ever had either.  "Uh... ch-chili bean paste?"  That was something she liked stirring into her ramen.

The queen was silent for another long moment.  “I see.”  Somehow, Alphys felt like she'd been judged just as thoroughly as if she'd admitted to sending an unpredictable murderer to meet King Asgore.  "Well, I will see what I can do, then."

Alphys gulped.  "Thank you, your majesty.  Until tomorrow?"

"Yes, Doctor.  Until tomorrow!"

Tomorrow, sure.  That was enough time to find a cure for the amalgamates, figure out what happened to the missing flower, and come to terms with being an accessory to regicide, right?

[***]

Chapter Text

Scene 4: The Fire Spreads
or
“Heartache”

Rumors were starting to spread.  Information tended to filter through the Underground in such a way that in certain places, it would take on a distinctive flavor.  In Grillby's, for example—the premiere social establishment of Snowdin Town—rumors tended to distill themselves down to the very funny and the very serious.  Puns and japes were tossed around like water balloons in Grillby's... but if someone told you something deadly serious, you’d know down to your core that it was true.

"I'm telling you!" barked Doggo.  "The king's dead!  He's dust!  He's dust!"

"What are you talking about?" demanded Dogamy.

Doggo threw his head roofward.  "He's blowing in the wind!  We're all blowing in the wind!"

Dogaressa shuddered.  "You mean we don't have a leader?"

"No leader!  No master!"

The Greater Dog planted his mighty gauntlets on the table and thrust his upper body into a passionate howl: "Hoowooooo!"  At the bar, Grillby stopped washing tumblers, but did nothing to stop the mayhem.

"Yipe!  Yipe!  Yipe!" put in the Lesser Dog from the next table over.

By now the rest of the patrons were starting to murmur, but only one—the most regular of regulars, the faithfulest of the faithful—wandered over to the dogs' table.  A blue hood lapped over the top of his hairless scalp, but something about the way he stood indicated that he was paying attention far more intensely than his laconic voice would ever indicate.

"so how'd it happen?"

Doggo's beady eyes rolled about.  "They say he was pet to death!  Someone pet him, and pet him, and pet him until they'd pet away all his fur, and they were petting bare skin!  They petted him down to the bone!!"

The Lesser Dog started to howl now.  Over the tumult, the skeletal sentry asked, "i don't suppose it had anything to do with a human kid, did it?"

Doggo nodded a series of big nods.  "Probably!  They said a human was headed for him with a score to settle!"

The female canine tilted her head.  "But if a human were in the Underground, wouldn't they have had to get past us?"

"That's right," said her husband.  "And the only intruder we encountered recently was that puppy we told you about.  The little genius who pioneered the idea of petting other dogs!"

"Well, I don't know what to tell you, except SOMEONE kept ringing my bell!" said Doggo.

Sans, the skeleton, gave no response beyond a simple “kay.”  He walked back to his seat, and no one spoke to him.  The rest of the patrons counted Sans among their friends, but they all knew what had happened to his brother, and they knew there was no cheering him up anymore.

The proprietor, though, Grillby, was an individual not afraid to play with fire.  As he wiped the bar, he leaned toward Sans, implicitly inviting him over.  The silent skeleton watched for a while, then shrugged and walked to the bar.

There was a duck-shaped monster who liked pretending to translate for Grillby, but he knew better than to mess with Sans.  So Grillby spoke in fumes, crackles and wisps, steadily oxidizing the air around him, and Sans, hunched on a bar stool, listened.  Over the years, he'd learned to understand.

“..\_{,-|-.,,”

"yeah,” he answered.  “probably the same one.  they were headed for the castle."

“,,-\-.-|+;.”

"i never thought.  i mean, they got along.  they tried his spaghetti.  they solved his puzzles.  i never imagined that when it came time..."

“~:’,,”

"no, you’re right.  i did imagine.  it did cross my skull.  but i just thought, 'nah.  this kid wouldn't hurt a flea.'  i didn't see them hurt a single monster in snowdin, grillby.  not a single one.  not even the annoying one.  'this one is safe,' i thought."

“-*=;{-,-.”

"how can anything do that, grillbs?  how can a creature just... flip like that?  one moment you're a sweet kid... now you're a killer?  where was the killer hiding, grillby?  where does a kid have room to hide something like that?"

“\.\**`-({.,.}]/.:”

"yeah, but.  the other part is, how did it happen?  did my brother piss 'em off?  he was attacking, sure, but he'd never have gone too far.  heck, he captured them once.  put 'em in his shed.  the human walked right out, grillby.  right between the bars.  the kid knew pap wasn't gonna hurt 'em.  but somehow... somehow, something big inside 'em flipped, and i just want to know... how?  how does a thing like that happen?  was it random?  did the kid just... spin a spinner in their head, and it wound up on 'murder'?  how?"

“;***,;’{}``,,”

"i dunno, grillbs.  i didn't have the heart to watch after that."

“-{,,_<`::.:-”

"dunno.  i guess someone'll take over.  i just know it's not gonna be me."

“,,~[[]]-<o.-=*;”

"heh, mettaton?  yeah, that'd be funny.  guess we'll just see."

“(__-\-,,—++}”

"…maybe."

“\+\-.)*-=*”

"yeah, i guess whoever ends up running things could probably use a little help.  and i've been around.  you think i should...?"

“>>—\-__`++|=>.,”

"yeah, but i'm not sure i'd be any use.  you know why i'm asking about that thing that flips in a person, right?"

“;-\-..,._,,-|-/=/”

"you got it.  i'm afraid if i go and offer my help, it'll stir things up… and that thing might just flip in me."

“-{+}-::~-~”

“right.  see ya later, grillbz.”

The fiery barkeep, having said his piece, retreated to the back.  Still, no one else dared approach.  Sans was left hapless on his barstool, his head limp in his hands.

He barely stirred moments later when a basket of onion rings, drenched in ketchup, was placed before him.  But after a good, long pause, he did take a ring and crunch it listelessly.  “thanks, grillbs.  you're always there for me."

The dogs were silent now.  Quietly, the other patrons were starting to talk amongst themselves.

Sans left the basket, slipped from the stool, and walked out.

[====]

Chapter Text

Scene 5: Chili Bean Paste
or
“Uwa!! So TENSION! o/~”

RRrrrrrrr, went the elevator.  Alphys had once thought she really liked elevators.  Now, she was coming to realize that she was a lot more comfortable on elevators when they were going down, not up.  Going down was humbling, but going up was like being… well, elevated!  It made her feel like she was being presented to the world, and she didn’t want to be presented.  She was much happier working behind the scenes.

The elevator stopped, leaving her queasy.  Though to be fair, she couldn’t blame the elevator—she probably would have been queasy anyway.  Alphys wasn’t prepared for this meeting!  Oh, she’d prepared a little, and had a few cover stories for how she’d been spending her time, but she didn’t feel comfortably prepared.  That would have taken a week, and she’d only had a day!

And what a nerve-wracking day it had been!  Deciding what to wear had taken up a good two hours in itself.  She’d eventually settled on a blue suit Mettaton had given her for making appearances on his show, but even with the collar turned down it still felt too flashy.  Alphys just didn’t have anything right for something like this.

She was met by guards soon after she got off the elevator.  They escorted her to the royal kitchen, undulating as they walked.  Watching them, she couldn’t help but wonder whether a surplus of determination was the reason they moved that way.  She’d started noticing it in certain monsters—behavior that suggested trace amounts of determination, a quality normally found only in humans.  Of course, Undyne had more than anyone.  Undyne had been born with an unbelievable amount of determination—almost as if it had been destined to come together, generation after generation, in her.  It was part of why Alphys couldn’t go for long without thinking about her.  Right now, for instance.  She should really be putting the finishing touches on her plan for how to deal with Queen Toriel, but instead, she was already here, in the kitchen, being announced, and the queen was right there, and oh my gosh she looked a lot like Asgore, was this a joke?  No, Alphys remembered, it just meant she, too was a boss monster.  Well, they’d been married, after all—what did she expect?

Alphys realized that she was laughably unprepared for this moment.  Somehow, she didn’t feel like laughing.

“Doctor Alphys, I presume!  Come in!”  The white-furred figure sat on a simple wooden kitchen chair with respectable arms.  From across the room, she could hear the exhaust of Vulkins as they heated water tanks and ovens, the wet squelch of Unslugs cleaning the floors, the regular clopping of Pyropses gliding from table to table with ingredients for bristling Kitnas to chop.  There were already two places set.

Alphys dithered forward and pushed herself up into the chair opposite Toriel.  It was far too big, and she could barely see over the table, but in a way she didn’t really mind.  If she couldn’t see the queen, then they couldn’t really establish a connection, and if they didn’t establish a connection, the queen wouldn’t be able to see through her lies… right?

“Oh dear!  I beg your pardon, doctor.  I had not realized the chair would not fit you!”  She clapped her hands—huge hands, like oven mitts—and a well dressed Pyrops glide-walked over, smiling obsequiously.  The queen addressed it: “Would you please bring a thick cushion for Dr. Alphys?  Her chair is too large.”  The Pyrops nodded and moved off.

“Oh, uh—it’s okay, really.  I’m comfy down here.”

“Nonsense.  I should like to see you while we dine!  Is that not the point of meeting in person?”

“Oh!  Well, I—I guess it is.  Aheh.”

“And it is a pleasure to meet you,” said the queen.  She extended her thick, furred hand, and Alphys wasn’t sure whether to kiss or shake it.  She hesitated for a moment, then raised her own hand awkwardly up until they touched, back to back, at which point she drew it down again.  Worst handshake ever, she berated herself.

But the queen didn’t seem upset.  “Doctor, I hope I did not worry you with my text message and my letter and my phone call.  I am so glad that you were able to accept my invitation to dinner!”  She smiled coyly.  “Even if, as it turns out, you have a moving box that takes you straight from your home to mine!”

“Well, uh…”  Was that wit?  Was the queen being witty?  Alphys managed to bark out a laugh, though it sounded almost like a cough.  “Yes, I… I ought to get by more often!”  No!  Stupid, STUPID!

“I would be delighted to have you,” said the queen.  “As you know, I am just getting accustomed to ruling once again, and it has been a very long time since I was last on the throne.  I fear that I may not be starting as well as I would hope, and I could use all the help I can get!”

Please don’t ask me to rule alongside you, thought Alphys.  “Aheheh… yes, I can imagine!  It must be… very difficult for you.  All these new inventions you never saw before…”

Queen Toriel frowned.  “There do seem to be a lot of them.  But that is not truly important, Dr. Alphys.  What matters is that the people I used to know are gone, and others are in their place.”  She sat mournfully, staring into the distance, before perking up.  “Such as you!”

“Me?  Oh… well, I’m just the royal scientist.  I’m really not anyone sp-special.  But I s-served Asgore, and I’ll be gl-glad to serve you too!”

The large boss monster’s eyes focused on Alphys, making her want to crawl under the table.  “You are stuttering!  Oh, doctor.  Am I frightening you?  I am so sorry!”

Alphys reflexively ducked her head—just as the Pyrops returned with a thick, square cushion for her so that she couldn’t hide anymore.  “Oh, uh… thanks!”  With exquisite awkwardness, Alphys managed to shove the cushion under herself and boost herself up.  It took her a few more moments to get her suit straight.  She was trembling by the time she was done.

She found that the queen’s huge hands were extended across the table to her.  Alphys stared, then reached hesitantly out and took one.  “Uhh…”

“I did not mean to make you uncomfortable.  Is there anything I can do to put you at ease?”

Yes, thought Alphys.  You can say we’re done here and let me leave!  “Uh… I can’t think of anything!  S-sorry, I’m just… this is how I am when I get nervous.  And, uh… well, there’s plenty to be nervous about, right?  A human k-killed the king… a new ruler arrives…”

The white hand folded over Alphys’s, and she had to admit it did feel comforting.  Like dropping a pillow into a room full of vipers, sure, but still worth something!  “Oh yes, I quite understand.  Believe me, Dr. Alphys, I feel much the same way.  My duty impels me to serve as queen, but I find I do not know what to do!  I have almost no one to advise me, and trust does not come quickly.  The captain of my guard does not even believe that I truly am the queen, so long have I been away.  But I must persevere, and bit by bit, I shall gain friends and endeavor to make the Underground a more hopeful place.”

Alphys found she sympathized, but one detail caught her attention.  “The… the captain of your guard?  Y-you mean Undyne?”

Toriel nodded as she released her grip.  “Yes, Undyne.  Do you know her?”

Swallow.  “Yeah!  Yes, I know her.  She… she helps me with my work sometimes.  Um… you said she doesn’t think you’re f-for real?”

The boss monster glowered.  “She is suspicious.  I have told her that my friends will vouch for me, but she is trusting her instincts, and in this case her instincts are wrong.”

Somehow, Alphys doubted that.  Undyne usually had pretty good instincts!  But she couldn’t say that to the queen, could she?  If this even really was the queen!  “Um… m-maybe I can… t-talk to her?”

“That would be splendid!” said Toriel.  “In that case, I am very glad that we get to have this dinner together.”  She looked up.  “And speaking of which, I believe our meal has arrived!”

Alphys turned around and saw a Pyrops pushing a cart toward them while a trio of Whimsuns circled about.  The dish was covered with a steel lid, set on a tray with greens for garnish.  The Pyrops stopped the cart, and with eye-defying ceremony, the Whimsuns hoisted the dish from the cart to the table.  Beating its wings hard, one of them lifted the lid off the dish—revealing… another dish.  Alphys blinked.  No!  It was a pastry!  It was the same shape as the domed metal lid, but yellow-brown and tasty-looking.  It smelled good, too!  She thought she saw hints of cheese peeking out from the crusty shell.

“Ooh!  It seems to have turned out well!” exclaimed the queen.  She thanked the servers and excused them; they went off with the cart.  “I made this myself, you know.  I enjoy baking a great deal, and it is a privilege to have access to such a well stocked kitchen!”

Alphys was just able to reach the platter now that her seat was higher.  Toriel gently slid the dish closer—now she could reach it comfortably.  “Wh… what is it?”

“This, Dr. Alphys, is called a gordita.  It means, ‘slightly fat.’”  The boss monster leaned in conspiratorially.  “Although as large as I chose to make it, it might better be called a ‘gordota!’”  She laughed, her hand covering her mouth.

“I-it is really huge!”  The thing was half the size of Alphys herself!  She certainly hoped she wasn’t expected to eat half of it.

“You see, this came from your request, Doctor!  It turns out that, well-stocked though the royal kitchen is, it did not possess chili bean paste.  So, I decided to do the next best thing and make it myself!  ‘How hard can it be to make paste out of chili beans?’ I asked myself.”

Alphys snickered behind her hands.  “But… but your majesty!  Y-you haven’t had time to ferment it!”

Toriel raised one eyebrow.  “Ferment it?”

“Um, yes, bean paste has to be fermented to give it its… rich umami flavor!

One large, floppy ear perked halfway up.  “Aha!  Is that so?  I knew that I must have been missing something.  Umami, you say?”

Alphys was starting to feel more in her element.  Maybe she just needed a meal!  “Yes!  Umami is… a kind of taste that you find in certain foods.  It’s produced by enzymes that produce certain amino acids, and fermentation h-helps the process along!  Think of a really ripe tomato o-or something made with balsamic vinegar.  Or, uh, sea vegetables!  It’s a subtle taste, but it can be really satisfying.”

“That is fascinating!” said Toriel.  She cut into the gordita with a large knife and started moving it onto her own plate with an equally large fork.  “I was never aware of that.  How useful it will be to have a royal scientist!”

“Er, heh,” said Alphys, turning away and rubbing her own ear.  “It’s no problem!  I like talking about scientific things.”

“If only I had known about fermented bean paste when I was living in the catacombs,” Toriel mused.  “I could have baked delicious savory bean pies for my children!”  She leaned forward.  “And do you know what they would have called me?”

Was this a test?  “Um… the best mom ever?”

“Almost!” chirped the queen, lifting her fork to her mouth.  “They would have called me… u-MOMMY!”  She laughed as she ate.

Alphys found herself simultaneously reassured and unnerved by this alleged queen’s behavior.  Something about that pun, the way she delivered it, tickled her memory.  But she couldn’t put a finger on it, and anyway, it was time to eat, wasn’t it?  So Alphys took a bite of the gordita herself.  It wasn’t at all bad!  In fact, it was really good, even if it wasn’t what she was used to.  Aside from cheese, the pastry was stuffed with cabbage, carrots, caramelized mushrooms, and yes, mashed up chili beans.  Even the greens on the side were good.

“Mmm!  So… you have children, your majesty?”

Just like that, the queen’s mood clouded.  “Perhaps I should not have brought it up.  I very much miss having children to care for.”

“Oh.  Uh… did they all just grow up, then, and move out on their own?”

Toriel’s huge ears fell flat against her head.  “I am sorry, Dr. Alphys.  I would rather not talk about it.  Shall we change the subject?”

Well, if the queen asks you to change the subject, you change it.  Aside from this small misstep, Alphys was actually feeling kind of proud of how she was doing.  She hadn’t made a terrible fool of herself yet, and she hadn’t let her secrets slip.  “Of course.  Um… do you…”  No, stupid, she doesn’t like anime.  She probably doesn’t even know what it is!  “Um, do you have any plans for the Underground?  Things you’d like to do with your reign?”

Now the boss monster grew serious.  She ate for a while before addressing Alphys.  “I have quite a few ideas, in fact.  And as it happens, some of them concern you.”

Alphys tried not to choke on her bite.  “Oh?”

“Well, you see, yesterday I discovered that Asgore kept a diary.  After some searching of my soul, I decided that it was right for me to read it.  As it happens, several of the recent entries concerned you and your work.  They were even color-coded in yellow!  I suppose I should have asked this sooner… were you close to Asgore, Dr. Alphys?”

Was she?  She’d been pushing people away for so long that it was hard to tell anymore.  “I… well, not close exactly, no, but… I was fond of him, and I th-think he was fond of me?  Uh, oh, and he gave me a teacup!  He thought it looked like me, and I s-suppose it does.”

Toriel produced a thin smile.  “That does sound like something he would do.”

“Even when he was upset with me, he still… c-cared about me as a person.  I think that says a lot.”

The boss monster who claimed to be Asgore’s widow sighed, her ears drooping.  She stared off at nothing for a while.  Alphys even turned around to check—yep, nothing!

Eventually she responded.  “Well, I understand, then, if losing him has been a shock.  I actually feel the same way.”

Alphys could totally understand that.  Sure, this woman hadn’t seen Asgore in a long time, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t upset her to hear he’d died.  She nodded, her mouth full.

Toriel’s tone became slightly more upbeat.  “According to his notes, you were working on some very interesting projects!  I was delighted to find, for example, that you and I have a connection.  You were able to give a ghost corporeal form, were you not?  I understand that he now runs a television network?”

Alphys blushed.  “Uh, yeah!  That’s Mettaton.  It wasn’t easy, but I gave him the body he always wanted, and now he’s a—your majesty, how did you know he was a ghost?  Most people just think he’s a robot I built, and he doesn’t correct them.”  To Alphys’s embarrassment, that list had included even Asgore.

She winked.  “Well, there lies the connection!  As it happens, the ghost who visited me in the Ruins and provided me with snails just happens to be his cousin.”

Alphys sat gaping.  She remembered Mettaton talking about his family, way back before he was Mettaton, or even a ‘he’… but he never talked about them anymore.

“So you see,” the queen continued, “my friend told me a story or two about their wayward cousin and his television show.  It was not until I read Asgore’s diary that I put things together, and realized that the creator of that robot body was none other than you!”

The scientist took a bit of her food.  “Yeah!  Um, please don’t tell anyone that he’s not really a robot, okay?  I mean, he is a robot, but that there’s a ghost inside the robot?  Not for my sake, but for his… I don’t think he wants people to know.”

Toriel nodded sagely.  “Very well.  It shall be our secret.  But that is not chief among the projects Asgore mentioned in his notes.”  She leaned in.  Her eyes bored into Alphys like tiny caterpillars trying to break through an eggshell.

“…It’s not?”

“The most interesting project seemed to concern the nature of the monster soul!  As I understand it, you were working on the problem of how to break the barrier that confines us to the Underground, but your research happily wound up producing a possible cure for ‘falling down’?  Is that correct?”

Well, here we go, thought Alphys.  Asgore just had to keep a diary, didn’t he?  “Well—!  It’s actually somewhat complicated.  As science often is!”  The queen’s mouth pursed understandingly, but her soft-eyed stare didn’t relent.  “…So, uh…. Well. I think I may have cured ‘falling down,’ but there may be, uh… certain side effects?  And as such, I’m keeping the patients for a while longer just in case it, uh, turns out to be dangerous.”

“I see!  Well, Dr. Alphys, I am thankful for your caution and your diligence.  If it is true that those who ‘fall down’ will soon be able to ‘get up’ again… why, that is an accomplishment of the highest order!”

Alphys shifted her feet, which didn’t even come close to reaching the floor.  “Oh, it’s nothing.  Er, I mean, it is something, but… I just wish I could have succeeded in my original task, which was to find a way to bring down the barrier.”

“Even so,” said Toriel.  “If your cure turns out to be successful, we will have to throw a parade in your honor!  Or perhaps a feast.  Is there any kind of celebration you are partial to?”

A parade?  A feast??  The last thing Alphys wanted was that level of public attention.  Or any public attention.  “Uh… just a… quiet sleepover?” she suggested.  No!  Dumbest thing you’ve said yet.  How is the whole population of the Underground supposed to sleep in your lab?  You were just thinking of Undyne, weren’t you?

“… A sleepover?”  Toriel’s face was puzzled, but then kindness shone through.  “Very well!  If your cure is successful, we will have the biggest, quietest sleepover the Underground has ever known!”

Alphys blushed so hard she could feel her capillaries working overdrive.  “That’s okay, your majesty!  I really don’t need any honoring.  I mean, I’m already the R-Royal Scientist, right?  That’s all the honor I could ever hope for.  I just… want to keep working on science and making discoveries for their own sake!”

The queen finished the bite she was eating and set down her fork and knife.  “I can see that I am speaking to someone with exceptional integrity,” she said, and her warmth got through Alphys’s defenses.  She sat up straight and looked into Toriel’s eyes.

“Uh… thanks?”

“May I trust you with a secret, Dr. Alphys?”

“Uh—please!  You can just… call me Alphys.  And yes, sure!  I can keep a secret.”  Had she done anything else for months?  Sometimes, it seemed like keeping secrets was the only thing Alphys knew how to do.

Toriel set her forearms weightily on the table.  “You are aware of the six souls that King Asgore… collected from the six human children who fell into the mountain and came through the underground?  Asgore’s notes seemed to indicate that you had worked with them.”

Uncomfortable territory again.  “Yes, I… I extracted a quality from them I call ‘determination.’”

“Indeed.  Well, I hope that what you extracted was sufficient for your purposes, because I have bad news.”  She took a breath.  “The human souls are gone.”

Alphys was shocked.  Well, at least she was getting used to that feeling.  “Gone?  Just… all of them, gone?  What happened to them?”

Toriel spoke evenly.  “The prevailing theory is that the last human child, the same one who killed the king, stole them before leaving.  Yet I do not see how that could have happened.  The containers for the souls were left behind, and I do not think a human being can absorb other human souls.”

“Uh… n-no, that’s well established.  You’re right.”

“Which begs the question of how the child would have carried them without the containers!  Do you have any insight into this, Alphys?”

Did she?  She’d met the human, but she didn’t want to admit that.  Not that she really had any idea whether they’d have had any reason to steal the souls.  “Maybe… the last child was… no, I’m sorry, your majesty—I can’t think of any way the human could have carried them, either.”

Toriel sat up.  “Well, that is good, in its way.  That means that we can be reasonably confident that the child did not take them.  Perhaps they only opened the containers and let the souls free?  In which case, is it possible that they could still be lingering somewhere near the castle?”

Alphys hadn’t seen what happened after the human took the final elevator.  She didn’t have cameras inside the castle, and she wouldn’t have been able to watch, even if she had.  “I don’t know!  Maybe?  I guess I could… try to create an invention to detect free-floating human souls?”

“That would be excellent,” said Toriel.  “Of course, expedience is essential, as the longer we wait, the more likely they will be to disappear.  Am I correct?”

“Um, yes.”  Alphys didn’t know how to feel about this.  It would be an interesting distraction from her troubles, but her troubles would all be there when she got done… and was it even possible to build a soul-finding machine, anyway?

“In that case, you may consider it your top priority,” Toriel declared.  “Except, of course, for caring for your patients.”  She tilted her head.  “Would you like an assistant?  It seems that you may soon have a lot on your plate.”

Alphys had a lot on the plate right in front of her.  She could never finish the portion of gordita she’d taken.  “Ah, no, thank you!  I, uh, work better alone.  Like I said on the phone!”

“Ah, yes, of course.”  Toriel sat in thought for a moment.  “In that case, there is only one more thing I wish to discuss.”

Only one more thing?  Oh thank goodness, the dinner was ending!  Alphys had actually made it through.  She hadn’t even had to break out her prepared list of cover projects to make herself seem busy.  “Ah, what’s that, your majesty?”

Toriel wiped her mouth with a napkin.  “Is there a reason you have not been in contact with the families of your patients?”

Oh no.  “Ah, in contact?”

“The news that I have returned is starting to spread through the Underground, and I am starting to get mail.  This morning, I received quite a few letters, several of them from monsters whose relatives or loved ones are currently in your care.  If there was one theme uniting these letters, it is that you have not been replying to their letters, nor answering your phone when they call.”

“Uh… well, I’ve actually been pretty busy…”

“I even received a letter from an acquaintance of mine, a tender soul called Shyren, who tells me that her sister is among your patients.  She wrote that it has been weeks since you promised her that her sister would be coming home, and she has had no word since then.”

This was getting dangerous.  “She’s uh.  She’s doing fine!  She’s just suffering a few, uh… side effects, like I said.”

The boss monster’s brown-red eyes were boring in again.  Her face seemed to get a shade darker.  “Is it possible that you could share exactly what these side effects are?”

Alphys stiffened up.  “Uh… well… this and that.  It’s sort of complicated!  For instance, some of them have… altered… bullet patterns?”

“That is rather interesting!” said Toriel.  “And yet, I should not think it would be a reason to keep them from returning to their families, would it?  After all, what need will they have for bullet patterns if they are returning to safe homes?  And if you later develop a cure, could they not simply return for it?”

“W-well… yes, but… there’s also… um, some of them are having problems speaking?”

“That is cause for concern, yes.  But could their family members not at least visit them?  And perhaps some of your patients would be happier at home even if they cannot express themselves fully.  Should not the choice be theirs?”

And some of them are, kind of, mixed up inextricably with each other?  And by some, I mean all of them.  “I, um… well, that’s one way to look at it, but I think it’s healthiest for them if they stay isolated for now.  Isolated with each other, I mean.  They’re all keeping each other company… it’s not like they’re alone!”

“But Alphys.”  Toriel seemed genuinely sad now.  “Their loved ones miss them.  And they are worried.  You have stopped writing, you have stopped calling… for all they know, their loved ones are dead after all, and you are not even sending them their dust so that they may carry out a funeral.  One letter was from a monster who suspected that you had kept the dust for experiments, and that you never plan to admit the truth.  Surely you can give these worried monsters some sign that their loved ones truly are still alive!”

Somehow, Toriel’s final conversational salvo had burst through layer after layer of defenses.  Alphys was running perilously low on excuses.  “I… I wish I could, but… it may be contagious!  We don’t fully understand the nature of falling down…. And it’s possible the cure I’ve developed would allow fallen monsters to infect others!  I think I’ve developed an immunity, but it may not be safe for anyone else to visit!”

“Then could you not devise a protective suit, or a glass wall, or an inoculation of some sort?  I refuse to believe that there is no way these monsters can safely be reunited.”

She was nearly at the end of her rope now.  Could she pretend to choke on her gordita?  “W-well, that’s a great idea!  I should develop an inoculation!  But, uh, it would take time, and, uh, you told me to make the soul detector my top priority, so…”

“Just a telephone call, then, in the meantime,” said Toriel.  “Give each family member a chance to speak to their loved one.  Or even to see them through a television camera!  According to Asgore’s notes, you are in possession of quite a lot of those.”

Boom.  That was it.  The salvo had reached ground zero.  There was no conceivable reason she shouldn’t be able to let her patients talk to their families on the phone, if they were actually okay.  So what was left?  The truth?!  But she couldn’t tell the truth!  She couldn’t!   In a panic, she looked around the kitchen, searching for some way out.

“Alphys?  Are you all right?” said Toriel, her focus refusing to waver.

Alphys clutched the table.  “I, uh… well, I… I guess I have to… confess something.”  NO!  Anything but that!  Fight her, run away, anything!

The alleged queen leaned close, her ears receptive.  “Yes, doctor?”

“The truth is… I, um…”  Wait!  That was it!  Alleged queen!  This woman wasn’t proven yet as the queen of the Underworld, and Alphys could use that to maneuver!  “I, uh, I’m not entirely comfortable discussing this, given that, uh, we don’t know for sure that you’re the real queen yet.  I mean, uh…”  Toriel’s mouth had grown stern, and Alphys didn’t like it.  “I trust Undyne a lot.  I mean, she has an intuition that defies science, sometimes!  And if.. If she doesn’t think you’re the real queen, I can’t just… ignore that.  I hope you can understand?”

In truth, Alphys’s own instincts were telling her that this was King Asgore’s wife, that every word she said was true.  But if it came down to Alphys’s instincts versus Undyne’s, she’d take Undyne’s any day.  Besides… this was the only way out she had left.

“You… are not convinced that I am the true queen?” asked Toriel, puzzled.  “And yet, you did not mention this until now, and you allowed me to trust you with a royal secret.”

“And I’ll keep it!  Don’t worry, your… your alleged majesty, I won’t tell anyone about the missing souls.  But it’s just that… the details of why I can’t let the patients go home are secret too, and… if you’re not the real queen, I just can’t risk telling you!  It’s just too dangerous.  For… security reasons.”

The pause that followed was long and weighty.  So weighty that it seemed to crush all the buoyant camaraderie the dinner had built up.  At last, the boss monster sighed a long, disappointed sigh.  “I suppose we are unable to proceed for now, then.  I will simply have to wait until the royal guard has verified my identity, and then we will speak again on this matter.  Is that acceptable, Dr. Alphys?”

“Yes!  Yes, that’s acceptable.  Thank you for being so understanding.  I expect… I expect you really are the queen, and I’ll be able to tell you everything, and we’ll laugh about this.  Ha ha!  But for now… I have to keep my secrets.  You know how it is!”  She pushed herself out of her chair, leaving the meal unfinished.

The queen—alleged queen—looked mournful.  It was too long before she said, “Yes, I understand.  Sometimes one must truly be cautious, for sometimes one has a great deal to lose.”

“Uheheh.  Yes, precisely!”  Alphys turned to leave.  “So, um… goodbye?”

Those red-brown eyes continued to stare, even through sadness.  “Goodbye, Dr. Alphys.  I trust you know the way out.”

“Oh, and, uh… thank you for the meal!  I’ve never had a gordita before.  It was delicious!”

“You are quite welcome,” said the alleged queen.  “It is always a pleasure to bake for company.”

Alphys left, then, self-conscious of the sound of her claws patter-pattering along the stone floor.  She hurried up the stairs and into the elevator, and didn’t relax until the doors were shut and she was on her way back home.  Then she slumped against the wall and moaned.  By the time the elevator reached her lab, she was sitting limp on the floor.

She’d managed to buy herself a little time, at the cost of her dignity.  That was okay—Alphys hadn’t had any dignity left for quite a while.  The question was—now that she had this extra little sliver of time to work with… what could she do?

[*****]

Chapter Text

Scene 6: Walking Among the Humble
or
“Spidertale”

“Lonely   ska lonskate
) lemniscating   recou recoup res. St.
.  .  .  ofaware un
certain  to gether always reconc
reinstate recou reccoop lost losse losses
unaware of but relaxcationar y”

“Okay.  Yeah.  I hope that means you’ve been resting well,” said Alphys, glancing over as she heaved out the giant sack of chow.

“Recoup restr recuup recuople recou what s’ los’
to get back recoverate coup coupre re”, said Swirl.

“I’m sorry.”  Alphys poured out a bowl for Endogeny, then filled another half bowl and went about packing the rest with tofu for the Memoryheads.  They liked a mixture of dog chow and bean curd, a fact she’d stumbled onto through excruciating trial and error.  She then shoved the chow sack back onto the shelf with difficulty.  What else could she say when Swirl started talking this way?  She didn’t know why it kept saying ‘recoup’.  Did it want to recoup its suffering from her?  Was it threatening to sue her, or asking her for help?  ‘Sorry’ just seemed to be the best all-purpose answer a lot of the time.

Each amalgamate had its own food preference, so Alphys diligently prepared fourteen different dishes, just as she did twice a day, every day.  Some of them had additional special needs—fresh watercolors for the Fingershoot, eyedrops for the Reaper Bird…  Swirl needed a warm bath every day, so Alphys got the water running while she prepared the rest of the dishes.  She was spending more than half her budget on patient care these days, but what else was she going to spend it on?  It wasn’t like she was doing any new science.  It wasn’t right that she should be personally responsible for the basic needs of fourteen creatures compounded from a hundred thirty-seven monsters, but since they were her responsibility, supporting them was the very least she could do.  She got most of her new materials from the dump these days, anyway.

“urds and whey along cam
rds and whey along came
ds and whey along came a
s and whey along came a s”

That was Arachnamate, as Alphys had come to call the spider amalgamate.  It was sometimes one of the more cogent ones, but right now, it was just lumbering by on its seemingly infinite legs, humming a dissonant tune.  She’d heard this one before—it was reassuring to hear it again, really.

“and whey along came a sp
nd whey along came a spi
d whey along came a spid
whey along came a spide”

Alphys finished making the rounds and returned to the tub.  As she waited for the water to rise and steam to build, she wondered, as she often did, when the pressure was going to rise too high and things were going to collapse.  It was sure to happen sooner or later.  This new queen could have been a reprieve, but now it looked like she was actually going to be more trouble than Asgore, which meant Alphys had less time left than…

Heh.  It was funny, thinking of Asgore as a source of trouble.  Really, he’d been the opposite of trouble.  He’d been the most understanding, the most compassionate, the most trusting boss Alphys could possibly—

No!  She shouldn’t cry.  Not good for patients if they see their doctor crying.  So Alphys went back to thinking of King Asgore as an obstacle that had been replaced by another obstacle.  “Swirl?” she called, leaning into the corridor.  “Your bath is ready.”

The bone white compound of Swirms (from the river that flowed from Snowdin to cool the Core) and Breedles (from the spaces between the Core’s walls) moved up the corridor, half undulating and half scuttling to move itself.  Scuttulating?  Heh, yes, that would do.  It scuttulated into the bathroom, where Alphys tenderly picked it up and introduced it gently into the water, making sure the temperature wasn’t too extreme.  After giving it two baths a day for as many weeks as she had, Alphys had worked out how to get the balance just right.

The amalgamated monster whipped itself around, spraying droplets on everything in satisfaction.  It chittered emotionally in its divided voice:

“WAhRMoTHt sledpdy skin
o ~ to setdle condendet
sloughi off luff sloughing contam
ghing off ghing aminants seed ~”

“Y-yeah!” said Alphys.  “Let’s get you all clean.  Should I… use the brush?”

“Scr BRUUSSH a
Brushh % ape atchh”

Alphys gently cleaned the monster, heeding its cues for when to move from one body segment to the next.  By now, she’d gotten mostly used to the weird-shaped bodies, and the strange blankness of them didn’t really bother her anymore.  But the mixed personalities… those still squicked Alphys.  And the general sense of desperation, of loss… well, that would bother anyone, wouldn’t it?

Swirl curled contentedly, scratching itself with one mandible that grew unnaturally from its tail.  Alphys sponged on, but all the while she wondered: What would happen to them all?  If she was found out, who would care for them?  It was always hard to imagine their families taking them back, but even if that was possible, she ran up a familiar stumper: whose families would they even go back to?

“Um… S-Swirl?”

The aquatic insect worm raised its head curiously, water flowing down its ridges.

“Um… so, I have a… a hypothetical question for you all.  For you.”

The posture of the body shifted slightly, possibly suggesting the twist of a question mark.

Alphys cleared her throat.  “So, uh… hypothetically speaking.  If you were… to go home to your family?  Because you’re all better, or at least, as, uh, close to better as I can make you?  Would you, uh, rather go back to the ice river, or to your other family in the Core?”

The amalgamate pulsed disturbingly, as if its heart had been installed inside-out.  Words found their way simultaneously to the surface through multiple orifices:

“water - = - metal

emoh nruter oT + + - L o w   s a l i n i t y

\\||// I     definitely to     to  river so I   be   my     \\||//
//||\\ would prefer     return the Core   so can with family //|\\\

MeCONmoFUSryION *x*”

Alphys stood there with her lower jaw slack.  “Uhh… o-okay?”

Swirl stared at her.  Even after all this time, she still wasn’t sure which pair of spots were its eyes.

“M… maybe we’ll call that a toss-up then?  It seems like… you have some, uh… things to work out.”

The amalgamate relaxed slowly and sank fully into the water, releasing a few bubbles.

Alphys sighed.  She loved these guys, she really did.  But they couldn’t really help solve their own problems.  They weren’t really good for conversation.  And these days, Alphys didn’t really have a lot of friends.  It turned out she was better than she thought at… pushing people away?  She really had a gift for it.

Once the bath was done, she checked once more on all the amalgamates to make sure they were taken care of for a while.

“#Become one of us#,” said the Memoryheads.

“No, thanks,” said Alphys, a little less nervously than the last time.  They responded with a sustained dial tone until she left the room.

“There’s no more room to fall,” said Lemon Bread, twelve times simultaneously.

“Well, that’s… that’s a good thing, right?” laughed Alphys as she gathered up the empty plates.

“tened Miss Muffet away.”
“ened Miss Muffet away.  Madame”
“ned Miss Muffet away. Madame Doctor?”

Alphys turned to the wandering Arachnamate.  “Y-yes?”

“rd Miss Muffet away.  Madame Doctor?  When
d Miss Muffet away.  Madame Doctor?  When can
Miss Muffet away.  Madame Doctor?  When can we
iss Muffet away.  Madame Doctor?  When can we return
ss Muffet away.  Madame Doctor?  When can we return to
s Muffet away.  Madame Doctor?  When can we return to the
Muffet away.  Madame Doctor?  When can we return to the Haven?
* ABSORBED *
way.  Madame Doctor?  When can we return to the Haven?  Muffet
ay.  Madame Doctor?  When can we return to the Haven?  Muffet will
y.  Madame Doctor?  When can we return to the Haven?  Muffet will be
Madame Doctor?  When can we return to the Haven?  Muffet will be worried
Doctor?  When can we return to the Haven?  Muffet will be worried for
When can we return to the Haven?  Muffet will be worried for us.”

The scientist quailed in stature as the onslaught of overlapping voices overwhelmed her.  “I don’t know, Arachnamate.  I wish I could see what I have to do.  I just… I just don’t know if you’re ready.  But don’t worry… Miss Muffet knows you’re still alive, and that you’ll be coming back soon.”

The creature rose up and writhed its countless legs.  “can we return to the Haven?  Muffet will be worried for us.  What
we return to the Haven?  Muffet will be worried for us.  What more
return to the Haven?  Muffet will be worried for us.  What more do
to the Haven?  Muffet will be worried for us.  What more do we
the Haven?  Muffet will be worried for us.  What more do we need
Haven?  Muffet will be worried for us.  What more do we need to—”

Alphys held her palms out.  “Could you—try to talk with just one part of your mouth?  L-like we discussed?”

The shape of the aperture lengthened and narrowed dramatically.  “Wwe are sroorry.  Ccan you undeersttannd?”

“Yes, that’s much better.  And to answer your question…”  Alphys glanced around to make sure none of the others were listening.  “…I can’t answer your question.”  Her face fell.  “You’re the healthiest of any of the… the patients.  You’re even working out how to use your spinnerets without, um… getting into conflict with yourself.  If anyone deserves to go home, it’s you.”

The spider’s all too numerous red eyes peered quizzically at her.

“But the other spiders could be afraid!  And even if…”  She lowered her voice.  “And even if they aren’t afraid of you, someone will see you, and—then they’ll find out what happened to you and all the others… and everyone will be so upset—they’ll scream and maybe h-hurt some of you… and they’ll… they’ll blame me for lying… and for…”  Alphys forced herself to look up at the amalgamate.  “And for letting this happen,” she finished, putting her hand on their chalk white body.

“You are wworrieed foror yoruor owwn reputtationn.  You arre more worried aboout yoursself thaan about uss.”

Well, that’s what she got for trying to reach out to someone, anyone.  And she couldn’t be mad at anyone but herself, since she deserved it.  “You’re right.  I’m worthless.  I’m a coward.”

“Prroove yourr worthth.  Shshuck youur cowwarrdiice,” said Arachnamate.

Alphys avoided the sea of eyes.  “I could.  But I can’t.  I’m too cowardly not to be a coward anymore.”

The amalgamate pulled back as if to get a better view of her.  Because she was such a strange creature, she knew.  She was the real freak here.  She was the moral anomaly.

A pair of pedipalp claws settled on Alphys’s shoulders.  “You shshould be prooud of yourr hummillity.  Evven though yyou do grreat workk, you are nnot vaain.”

“I should… be more proud that I’m not more proud?”

The spider tittered and sat down, right in the hallway.  “Ththe firrst spiider, Araachne, was maade from maggic.  She was a diffferrennt kiind of monsster, a weeaver, and she wwove the mosst beauttiful clothth that ever was ffellt.”  The tarsal claws gently stroked Alphys’s shoulders.  “Buut she wass vaainn.  She spooke so well of hher weeaving that she broought wraath upon herrself.  A madgick-usser triccked her into loossing a conntest, and then took her foorrm from herr and maade her uggly and her threaads too fiine for cloth.  She and herr children learrned to weeave… not to cloothe and makke beautifful, but to ffeed themmselvves.  They learrned to be hummble and dweell in the disstaant corrners… and sso the spiider rrace was borrnn.”

Was it really?  Had it really happened that way?  “I didn’t know that.”

“We doo not brrag.  But wee hellp eachch otherr.  I amm trryying to heelp you, Maddame Docctorr.”

Alphys swallowed.  Somehow, the spider’s strange story had helped.  “Thanks.  I wish I could be b-brave enough to… to let everyone see how terrible I am.  Maybe…”  She tried to laugh.  “Maybe someone would see me showing my terribleness to the world, and enchant me into s-something beautiful, just to… just out of spite.”  She smiled hopefully.

The spider looked oddly at her and scuttled back.

‘W-wait… if that isn’t what you’re saying, th-then…”

“Please let us go home, Doctor.  We miss o
ease let us go home, Doctor.  We miss our
se let us go home, Doctor.  We miss our ki
let us go home, Doctor.  We miss our kith
t us go home, Doctor.  We miss our kith an
s go home, Doctor.  We miss our kith and k
o home, Doctor.  We miss our kith and kin.”

Alphys slumped and sighed.  “I’ll do my best.”

She only turned around once the spider was gone.  This was no good.  She needed out of this place.  The amalgamates would be okay for a while, but unless she found somewhere else to go—some shoulder to cry on that she hadn’t personally commingled with other shoulders—she was going to lose it.  Of course, chances were that she was going to lose it at some point anyway, but she had to try, didn’t she?  Alphys could take care of the amalgamates, but if she didn’t care take of herself, who would?

Right now, more than anything, Alphys wanted to go to the dump.  No, not the dump… the waterfall.  The abyss.  She wanted to stare into the abyss, and wonder.  But that wasn’t a good idea right now.  That could be dangerous.

Well, there was one place in Waterfall she could go that wouldn’t terrify her quite as much, and that might still give her solace.

She took the elevator back to her public lab and trekked out into Waterfall.  It wasn’t long before she was starting to run.  Alphys hadn’t realized how desperately she needed a friend.

But as she ran through the tall grass and glowing mushrooms, Alphys suddenly realized that Undyne might actually need a friend even more than she did.  And that thought really unnerved her.

[******]

Chapter Text

Scene 7: Spaghetti Therapy
or
“Loud Water”

She could hear Undyne’s voice from some distance off… which was encouraging, really.  If Undyne was yelling, then she was doing something, right?  And that meant there was something she was trying to accomplish… and that meant she was moving ahead with her life!

The voice came more into focus as Alphys skittered across the stone bridges toward the plaza.  “Hup!  Hup!  Hup!   Put some jerk into those knees!  Okay, okay, HALT!  I’ve got an idea.  Let’s set up a plank under some weights… and see if you can BREAK it!”

“Yes ma’am!” replied a young, enthusiastic voice.

“Did I say you could stop?!  Keep hupping!!”

As Alphys arrived in the yard, the little voice was piping away: “Hup, hup, hup, hup!”  It was a little lizard monster, about her own size and oranger than herself, clearly just a kid.  Alphys thought she might have seen him around before—in Snowdin, maybe?  He didn’t seem to have any arms under his striped, paint-stained shirt, but he was making up for it by energetically thrusting up his knees in turn, head rocking back with each “Hup!”  Meanwhile, Undyne was busy hammering together sawhorses with nails and a stone.  What was she making?  Her house’s dramatic face, in the shape of a fish’s head, was smeared with light blue paint in the form of the word  “WHY?”  Over and over, in every size, at every angle.

She looked up and saw Alphys, and her expression of toothy rage changed to an expression of toothy, friendly rage.  “Alphys!  Come over here!”

Alphys found herself suddenly unsure she wanted to come over there, even though there was where she’d been running to.  Instead, she stopped short and took in the scene.  The lizard kid looked at her, but didn’t stop ‘hup’-ing.

“Come here!  I want to give you something.”

Okay, well, that didn’t sound so bad.  Alphys picked up her feet again and ran to Undyne, slowing at the end to catch her breath.  “Wh-what did you want to give me?”

But the answer was quickly apparent.  Strong, dense arms engulfed Alphys and lifted her up.  She squealed reflexively and paddled her feet, afraid something terrible was going to happen.  But no… this was just a hug, wasn’t it?

“I wanted to give you a hug!” roared Undyne.  “For being still alive!”

That was somewhat reassuring!  Alphys couldn’t hug back, since Undyne was pinning her arms to her body, but she did manage to loosen her muscles and stop struggling—it felt like Undyne appreciated that.  “Oh, Undyne!  Y-you don’t have to—”

“I really appreciate how you’re still here and didn’t let the human murder you,” cooed Undyne.  “Thanks for that!”

Alphys’s feet swung.  “Um… you’re welcome?”

With one last squeeze, Undyne set her down hard.  “I mean it.  I was worried!  When the human got past me, I knew it was headed your way, and I thought that maybe…”  She blinked and faced Alphys with puzzlement.  “You did hear about the human, right?”

Hear about?  This probably wasn’t the time to admit she’d actually engaged in an elaborate conspiracy to get the human to befriend her, until her co-conspirator had betrayed her and spoiled everything.  “Uhh… I might have heard a few things.”

The look Undyne gave her was deeply concerned… even sad.  “Did you hear what it did?”  It always unnerved Alphys when Undyne spoke softly.

“Um… yes.  It killed the king.  And, uh… now his wife has come back from wherever she was to be the queen!”

“SHE’S NOT THE QUEEN!!” countered Undyne, smashing the apparatus she’d been working on… if it even had been work, rather than just nailing random things together.  The little lizard monster stopped jogging in mid-hup, one knee frozen in horror.

“She… she’s not?”

“WHAT HAS SHE DONE TO DESERVE BEING THE QUEEN?  Even if she was Asgore’s wife, which I’m not convinced she was, she’s not the queen anymore!  She gave that up the moment she left the kingdom and all its problems in his lap!  As far as I’m concerned, she’s a usurper!”

“Um…”  Well, Alphys had to admit it would be convenient if Toriel turned out not to be the rightful ruler.  Then she wouldn’t have the power to make her come clean about the amalgamates, would she?  “But.. someone has to rule, don’t they?  Why… why not her?”

“WHY NOT HER?!” shouted Undyne.  She raised a sawhorse over her head and smashed it dramatically, causing both Alphys and the kid to leap back.  “WHY NOT NOT HER?  Have you met her?  Does she seem tough to you?  Huh?”

“Uh… yes, I guess I did meet her, and… well, she did seem a little tough…”

“SHE’S A PUSHOVER!!  She’s a soft fluffy pushover.  Do you think she’ll be able to lead us to the destruction of humankind?!  Not even close!  She’ll probably try to negotiate with the humans!  NEGOTIATE!”

“The, uh… the destruction of…”   This agenda seemed more than a little drastic to Alphys.  “But Undyne!  What if there are good humans?  We can’t just destroy them all!”

“There are no good humans.”  The warrior said this directly into Alphys’s face, her eye wild and teeth gritted tightly.  “If there were, would they have let a human like that one survive?  Would they have let it go free?”

“It… it honestly didn’t seem that bad to me,” said Alphys, forgetting her story of just having heard about it.

“IT KILLED PAPYRUS!!” wailed Undyne.  She raised her arms to the sky, moaning, then started tearing chunks out of the earth and hurling each one away with a scream.  One caught the edge of the lizard kid, but he didn’t run—it just made his shirt even messier.  “It killed him for NO REASON!  It could have made friends with him.  It could have spared him!  But it KILLED him, and for WHAT?  For what, Alphys??”  She gestured toward the house, with its multitude of silent “WHY?”s, almost as if it were an amalgamate itself.

“I… I don’t know!”  Truthfully, she’d been pretty horrified when she’d seen the human turn the skeleton guard to dust.  At the time, she hadn’t quite put together that he was her friend CoolSkeleton95 from the Undernet, the guy that Undyne had been personally training.  Not to mention that he… might have been Gaster’s grandson?  She wasn’t sure—Gaster had never talked about his family.

“For NOTHING!”  She stamped the ground, splintering a piece of wood.  “It was for absolutely nothing!  And then… and then, when I confronted it, the human had the gall to run away!  It wouldn’t let me fight it for real!  It ran straight into Hotland, where the heat SUCKS and I don’t know how you can live there, and when I collapsed on the bridge… it brought me water!!”  She sank to the ground and pulled her ears.  “It brought me water to humiliate me, Alphys!  It wouldn’t let me earn justice… and it wouldn’t kill me, Alphys.  IT WOULDN’T KILL ME!”

Alphys was horrified.  There was a child present!  “Undyne!  It didn’t kill you, a-and… I’m glad it didn’t.  Because I… I don’t know how I would have lived with myself if…”

“We need to destroy them.”  Undyne wiped her face clean with one hand, leaving a mask of determination.  It was so clear in her, now that Alphys knew to look for it.  “We need to break the barrier, get to the surface, and wipe out every single human on the planet.  There won’t be any justice anywhere until we do!”

“Undyne… I don’t think that’s a good idea.”  Actually, Alphys couldn’t express how much she hated the idea of wiping out another sapient species.  “Humans and monsters shared the earth i-in harmony once, right?  I’m sure if we give it enough effort, we can… we can do that again!”  The truth was, she wasn’t sure of that at all… but what they needed right now was hope, right?

“We can NEVER do that!” roared Undyne, looking helpless with nothing left at hand to smash.    Well, except for Alphys, but it didn’t look like she was quite that far gone.  “It was all an act.  Don’t you understand?  All an evil act!  There was never good in them!  They just pretended to be good, to fool us… until they could strike, and lock us down here forever.”  She sagged to the ground, exhaling heavily.

“So, uh, yo, is my lesson over?” called the orange kid.  He’d dared to set his foot down and seemed pretty shaken up.

“Yeah,” growled Undyne.  “You did great, kid.  Same time tomorrow?”

“Sure!  Cool.  I’ll be here!”  He waited for Undyne to answer, but when she didn’t, he simply raced off.  Alphys watched him go.

“He’s no Papyrus,” Undyne grunted.

Alphys overcame her trepidation to step over the wreckage of the sawhorse monstrosity and hug Undyne.  This was her dear friend, not to mention crush, even if she was a little terrifying right now.  “I’m sorry,” she said.

“Yeah,” said Undyne.

“I—I know you were close to both Asgore and P-Papyrus.  This must be hurting you more than anyone else.”

Undyne nodded a little, still not looking up.

“But I’m still here.  That… that must count for something, right?”

Finally, Undyne faced her with something other than rage.  “I hugged you, didn’t I?”

“Yeah.”  Alphys steadied her arms around her friend.  “And now I’m hugging you.  So… not everything is ruined, right?”

It was a while before Undyne answered.  “No.  Not everything.”

Alphys looked at the house, with its hundred identical questions in light blue..  “Do you want help… painting over… that?”

Undyne sighed.  “No.  That can stay.  I still want to know why.”

“W-Well then… is it okay if we just go inside for a while?  I came over b-because I felt like I needed someone to be there for me… but if you need someone to be there for you, too… well, I can… I can do that.”

Undyne suddenly squeezed Alphys tightly, treating her to a precious, white grin.  “Oh, we can definitely go inside!  I’ll cook for you!”

“Oh!  Uh… okay!”  Alphys brightened.  “A-and I can eat what you cook!”

“Great idea!” said Undyne.  She walked inside, not bothering to put Alphys down until they reached the kitchen table.

The inside of the house was a wreck—things toppled and spilled everywhere.  The table was covered in cornflakes with the word “WHY” written in them.  Dishes were scattered all over the counter, some broken.  A pan of uncooked spaghetti sat on the stove, with the spaghetti box also upended in the pan.  A huge sword stood plunged into the center of the floor.

Alphys blanched.  “I—I like what you’ve done with the place?”

Undyne ignored her.  “Soda?”

She smiled uneasily.  “Oh, uh, sure.  Soda sounds good.”

Her hostess strode to the fridge and poured an overgenerous portion of yellow soda into a giant stein, which she plopped in the middle of the cornflakes with a sloshy crunch.  “Here ya go.”

“Thanks.”  Alphys took the vessel in both hands and drank.  It was fizzy… just how she liked it.

Undyne sat down at the piano, but regarded the thing with perplexity, like she couldn’t tell if it was friend or enemy.  After a while, she sighed roughly and started to play.  Her chords were cutting and strong, but not strong enough to break the keys.  She crossed her hands over each over and played, and played, and while the tune wasn’t pleasant, or structured, somehow it was still a tune.  Alphys sat tensely, sipping her soda and not daring to breathe too deeply.  It was good for her to hear this.

Undyne finally broke down into cacophonous crashes and bent her head over the piano.  She sighed again, loudly.  It seemed like she was beyond tears, beyond yelling.

Alphys hopped down and went over to put her hand on Undyne’s shoulder.  Undyne looked slowly at it, at her.

“Are you… planning to train that lizard boy to join the guard?” asked Alphys.

Undyne chortled.  “Sure.  Why not.  He thinks I’m the bee’s knees, so I might as well.  Plus, if I train him, then maybe he won’t get in the way next time I’ve got a human to chase down.”

Alphys remember seeing that with her cameras.  “That’s good of you.  I’m glad you’ve got a new friend.”

This was met with a soft grunt of a sigh.

“But… are you sure you’re going to be able to keep up with your work?”

This brought a scowl back to Undyne’s face; she crashed both arms on the piano.  “I’m supposed to be interviewing monsters to figure out if this ‘Toriel’ is the real Queen Toriel!”

“…Um… and you don’t want to?”

“No!  I don’t care if she is!  I don’t want her to be!  I just want her to go away.”

“B-but, then who’ll lead us?”

“I don’t care!  It doesn’t matter.”

“I… thought you wanted a strong leader.  Someone who could f-fight the humans,” hazarded Alphys.

Undyne began to play again, two very low notes in ominous alternation.  “I do.”

“Th-then it does matter?”

Undyne scowled, her ears shivering.  “I’ve got that dog couple interviewing the spider queen.  Looking for discrepancies.  Anything in her story that doesn’t add up.  I talked to that music jockey ghost this morning, and it was like squeezing lemon juice from a grapefruit.”

“S-so they were sour, but the wrong kind of sour?” joked Alphys.

“Just really depressed,” Undyne corrected.  “I mean, I’m depressed right now, but I think they’re like that all the time!  Plus, they just apologize when you punch them and your fist goes straight through!”

“Oh.  Um.  Do you n-need any help?”

Undyne shook her head.  “Still got to figure out who that Snowdin sentry is, but that can’t be too hard.  We haven’t got all that many sentries in the forest, and the so-called queen says she doesn’t think it was one of the dogs.  She says she used to talk to someone through the door who can vouch for her.”

“Huh!  How odd!”

“Said they swapped jokes together, and that was about it.  Not sure how that’s supposed to back up her story, but.”  She shrugged.  “I’ve got a sinking feeling I know who it is, though.”

Alphys did, too.  “Pap’s brother?”  The human had interacted with him on their way through Snowdin.

Undyne nodded and sighed again.

“He shouldn’t be too hard to find, then, right?  Didn’t they share a house in Snowdin?”

Undyne nodded.  “He’s not there now, though.  They checked.”

“Oh.”  Alphys knew how that guy could get around.  “Well, I hope they find him soon.”

“I don’t.  I don’t GIVE.  A.  HOOT.”  Undyne stood up—nearly knocking Alphys over—and strode to the stove.  “What do you say to some spaghetti, Alphys?  A big plate of super-deluxe spaghetti, a la Papyrus!”

Alphys hurried back to the table.  “Uh, okay!  That sounds pretty good.”

So Undyne got to work.  She turned on multiple burners even when she was only using one; she laid the spaghetti over the top of the pan and smashed it in with the edge of her hand; she made sauce with gusto, cleaning peppers carefully and then tossing all the seeds in anyway.  She worked with what Alphys might have called ‘meticulous chaos’.

“L-looking good over there!” Alphys ventured.

“Thanks!  I’m doing my best!  Hard to believe we’ll never have the real stuff again, isn’t it?”

Alphys had actually never tried Papyrus’s spaghetti, but she’d seen his outlandish creations in pictures on the Undernet, always proudly presented with a smile.  She really was starting to feel the loss.  “Yeah.  H-hard to believe.”

Clang clang clang, went a spoon.  -Fooosh-, went the burners.  Alphys relaxed and enjoyed the performance, knowing that it, the blue ‘WHY’s, and the piano were all allotropes of the same element, so to speak.  They were all outlets for Undyne.  Alphys wondered how many more outlets her friend would need, and whether they would ever be enough.

“Voila!  Spaghetti Grandiose, a la Papyrus!” announced Undyne, sweeping hundreds of corn flakes off the table and dropping a huge plate of luxuriantly decorated spaghetti in their place.  It was dripping with scent and goodness, even though Alphys could tell it was both under- and overcooked.  There were giant matzo balls rolling back and forth almost like they were alive.  Undyne had stuck two colossal forks into the dish, and she gestured to one.  “Eat up!”

Alphys was reminded of the giant gordita.  Did everyone have to make food with tremendous portions these days?  Was that their way of coping?  “It smells really good,” she offered.

“It ought to!  Either that or really, really bad!”  Undyne twirled one of the big forks and slurped up a sizable portion, not waiting for Alphys.

Alphys tried it.  It was… a mess, but a wonderful mess.  It was spaghetti with personality.  “I found a whole artichoke.”

“Oh yeah, I threw that in just for fun.  It should be cooked pretty good!”

Alphys peeled back one of the leaves and enjoyed it.  “Yeah, it’s fine,” she said.  “Good job!  You really do know how to do a lot of things.”

“Me?  Look who’s talking!  Miss I’ll-just-put-an-ejection-button-in-your-shower-because-why-not!”

Alphys blushed.  “Well, the principles behind the spring loader are surprisingly simple…”

“Spare me!  It’s better if it’s a mystery.  My point is, you’re really amazing, Alphys, and I like you that way.”

This actually was starting to cheer her up.  If Undyne respected her, maybe Alphys could actually start facing her fears.  She popped a matzo ball into her mouth and smiled.

“Why’d you come over here, anyway?” Undyne asked.  “I know I’ve been kind of an attention hog.”

“It’s all right, Undyne!  I don’t mind.”  After all, Undyne had a lot more to mourn than Alphys did, and Alphys was genuinely glad she got to be here for part of it.

“Even so.  I want to be a good friend.  So tell me!  What’s on your mind?”

Now that she had the chance, Alphys suddenly didn’t know what to say.  There was a lot on her mind, but what could she tell Undyne?  She’d struck out this way with the vague idea that maybe she could reveal the truth about the amalgamates, but that seemed like a terrible idea now, with Undyne so fragile herself.  She didn’t think mentioning the missing golden flower would go well, either.  Revealing that anime wasn’t real after all?  No, that would go even worse.  And she certainly couldn’t tell Undyne about her role in ‘helping’ the human child through Hotland.  Even now, Alphys had a hard time believing she’d really done that.  The mental distance probably kept her from having to work through the guilt—which was good, since she had plenty of guilt swimming in her already.  So what did that leave?

“So… I mentioned meeting the queen, right?  The alleged queen?”

Undyne looked up ruefully from her spaghetti.  “Yeah?”

“Well.. She invited me to dinner… and she asked me about my projects.  It actually… made me a little nervous.”

The fish warrior leaned in.  “Yeah?  Was she being nosy?”

“Well…”  Alphys considered how to put it.  “She was just asking the questions she had to ask, really.  But I didn’t think she’d know so much, or all the right questions to ask!  She’s read Asgore’s diary.  Did you know that?”

Undyne crashed her silverware to the table, dislodging another several dozen cornflakes.  “No!”

“And, uh… well, she asked me to start working on a new machine.  A… a soul detector, basically.  Something that can tell if there are any human souls in the air… lingering… like they do.  Just in case the six we had aren’t really gone, after all.”

“Really?”  Undyne scrunched her face in thought.  “That’s actually a pretty good idea.  Is it something you can do?”

“I… I’m not sure.  I haven’t really given it a lot of thought yet.  Normally, when I have a big new project like this, I start an electronic diary of my own, and I brainstorm, and go for walks at the dump… it’s a whole process!  But I haven’t even begun that yet, because I’m worried about whether I should do it in the first place!”

“Because you’re not sure if she’s the real queen.”

Because my life is about to fall apart because of all my terrible mistakes?  No, let’s go with what she said.  “R-right!  I’m not sure if I can trust her with something so important.  Not to mention all the questions she’s been asking about my research…”

Undyne slurped down a prodigiously long strand of spaghetti, much longer than it should have been possible for any of them to be.  “Well, you know what?  I’ve got your back.  So screw her!  You don’t have to tell that lady anything!  Just say your lips are sealed until she’s earned your trust.  Which she probably never will!”

Alphys nodded nervously.  “I basically did that.  I mean, I tried not to be mean about it, but… I told her I had to hold off until we’ve proven her identity.”

“Right!  And even then!  Even if she is the queen, who says she’s earned our trust?  Hell, she walked out on us once!  Who’s to say she won’t do it again?”

“B-but… if I don’t tell her about my research even then, she could fire me,” Alphys pointed out.

“So what?  Everyone else knows you’re still the royal scientist.  Everyone else knows you’re the one who knows all the nerdy science stuff.  So who cares what some crummy queen thinks?”

Alphys did.  She didn’t know why, exactly, but she cared.  “Well, I mean,” she stammered.  “The monsters might start to follow her.”

Undyne shook her head slowly.  “We don’t need to let that happen.  We can nip it in the bud before it starts.  You think the people will follow a queen if the royal guard isn’t even on her side?  She won’t have any power!”

Alphys swallowed.  “And… you don’t think the guard will be on her side?”

Undyne planted a caring hand on Alphys’s back.  “Listen, Alph.  If you’re worried about what this queen might find out, then I’ll make sure she never has an ounce of power.  If that’s what you need to be happy, that’s what you’ll get!  You know why?”

Alphys grinned nervously.  “Wh-why?”

Undyne’s grin was bigger.  “Because friends are here to help friends!”

Alphys tried to suppress the huge spaghetti-tangle of nerves inside her.  “Really?  You’d do that for me?”

“Damn right I will.  Alphys, you mean a lot more to me than some queen who walked on out Asgore hundreds of years ago and left him to fend for himself.  A hell of a lot more.”

Alphys blushed.  She could feel her heart beating harder.  “I don’t know if I want the whole Underground turned upside-down just for my sake.”

Undyne smiled reassuringly.  “Oh, don’t worry.  That human’s the one who shook things up.  And this so-called Toriel’s the one trying to turn things upside-down!  We’re just going to keep things right-side-up, like they belong.”

Alphys had never known what relief and dread felt like mixed together until now—they usually happened to her separately.  “A-all right.  Just let me know how I can help.”

Undyne got to her feet and leaned over the table to pick Alphys up, trailing spaghetti.  “You kidding?  Alphys, you’ve already helped a ton!  So glad you came over.”

This would be the perfect moment to kiss.  “You’re welcome!  Thanks for the music and the spaghetti… and the support.  It means a lot to me.”

“It’s nothing,” said Undyne.  “But we’ve wasted enough time, am I right?  Back to work, scientist!  You’ve got a soul detector to build!  And if you don’t want to make reports to the queen, that’s fine.  You can report to me!  Write all the reports you want—I might even read them!”

Alphys laughed.  “I m-may just do that.  Thanks!”

Undyne carried her to the door and set her down with a reassuring pat.  “Remember, Alph.  We’re in this together.  From here to the end.”

“For as long as it takes,” Alphys answered, echoing an exchange from an anime she and Undyne had watched together.

“To the end of the world,” finished Undyne.

It really did feel good to have someone as loyal as Undyne behind her, even if it was for some of the wrong reasons.  Alphys turned around, saw the warrior’s giant pointy grin, and thought, To hell with it.  She stepped forward on tiptoes and kissed Undyne on the chin.

Undyne stared and chuckled.  “Aww, you.”  Her strong arms wrapped momentarily around Alphys and squeezed.  “Now get to work!”

“Yes, ma’am!”  Alphys hurried away, but looked back on her way out and tripped on a broken piece of wood.  Well, if her exit were completely graceful, she wouldn’t be herself, would she?

She paced back over the quiet waters to her lab, mind whirling.  What was going to come of this?  The royal guard, turning against the queen?  Was that really what she’d just set in motion?

She swallowed.  If only it were the worst thing she’d done that week, it might have upset her a little.

[*******]

Chapter Text

Scene 8: A Welcome Reunion
or
”Home (Joke Box)”

Knock knock.

Ah.  So much for a peaceful evening of gathering her thoughts.  Toriel had actually managed to convince herself that at the end of her stressful day, this was what awaited her.  But no.  Of course that was wishful thinking.  Of course she would be interrupted.  The day’s business had brought her no respite; why would it come with the evening?

Setting aside her supper plate, she forced herself up and approached the door.  “Who is there?” she called.

Just one syllable cut through the door in reply, but it was powerful enough to grab her attention, even delivered as it was like a deep-voiced shrug.  “judge.”

Toriel stood astonished, trying to process what she had just heard.  But at the end of her processing, there was really only one response: “Judge who?”

“gezundheit,” said the voice through the door.

What?  She laughed helplessly at the bizarreness of it.  Then she laughed genuinely because she got the joke.  ‘Judge who’ sounded like ‘Achoo,’ which was the sound of a sneeze!

She continued to chuckle through her cupped hands even as she stared apprehensively at the door.  The mysterious voice from the forest had followed her here!  Was he here to haunt her reign?  Opening the door in the Ruins for him had never been a real possibility, since she relished her privacy… but here, it was different.  Should she actually open her door?

“It is so good to hear your voice,” she confided.  Disturbing, yes, but reassuring.

“hey, it’s not every day you meet a perfect joking partner.”

Well, that was true.  “I must confess, I am surprised to find you here.”

“didn’t think i’d follow you to the castle, huh?”

“I had not even considered it!”

“well, you gotta be there for friends, right?”

“Yes, but… how did you even know my identity?  I never told you.”

“well.  i heard the new queen had been hiding in the ruins.  and they said they had a sense of humor.  so i kind of just put the pieces together.  figured if i came all this way and knocked on the door, i’d probably hear your voice.”

Toriel was touched, but the next question was very hard for her.  “…Would you like to come inside?”

For a moment, silence met her.  Had she violated some sacred rule?  By inviting the voice inside, had she inadvertently lost it forever?

But then: “sure.”

Hesitantly, the queen opened the door to her new home, which had been her old home long ago.  She smiled bashfully as the figure was, at long last, revealed.  Oh, how fascinating!  He was a skeleton.  An adorably sized skeleton, in fact, with a stocky suit and a smile to match her own.

“knew if i knocked often enough, eventually i’d get to come in,” he said.

“Is that what all those Knock-Knock jokes were about?” mused Toriel facetiously.  “You merely wanted to come and live with me in the Ruins?”

“nah.  i like the home i’ve got.  but it is nice to finally meet you face to face.”

“The feeling is mutual!” Toriel exclaimed.  “So this is what you look like.”

The skeleton walked easily inside and plopped himself down on the sofa.  “yep.  not much to look at, i know.  but my beautiful voice makes up for it.”

“Oh, you,” chuckled Toriel.  “What is your name?  I imagine that you probably know mine already, but in case you do not, I am Toriel.”

“it’s sans.  pleased to meet you, toriel.  even if I do have a bone to pick with you.”

Toriel stood confused a moment, unsure whether that had been a pun.  “What is the issue?” she asked.

He looked up.  “you remember that promise you talked me into making?”

Toriel thought back.  She had a keen mind, even if it did often operate on its own wavelength, and as she remembered the promise, one connection led to another.  She had made him promise to protect any human who left her home.  It followed that he had protected the narrow-eyed child against his will—otherwise he would not have mentioned the promise in connection with ‘a bone to pick.’  The child had murdered three monsters.  One of them had been a puzzle-maker from Snowdin, a skeleton sentry.  Her friend was also a skeleton sentry from Snowdin.  Oh stars.

Her eyes were wide.  “You have… you have lost a loved one.  And it is all my fault!”

To her horror, the skeleton’s eyes went momentarily black.  But the little while pupils flickered back, and he said quietly, “not all.  it might have happened that way no matter what.  could be the human was destined to dust my brother, and nothing i did would’ve stopped it.”  He hunched himself up on the sofa.  “but i doubt it.”

His brother.  Not a comrade in arms, not just a friend, but a brother.  Toriel knelt beside her guest and bowed her head.  “I am so very sorry.  It was my foolishness that cost your brother’s life.”

The skeleton did not touch her, either for for comfort or admonishment.  “see,” he said after a while.  “this is why i don’t like making promises.”

She knew instantly what he meant.  “Because they are rigid, and do not take into account the unexpected."

“yup.  but at the same time, i don’t like to break them.”

Toriel’s kept her voice low, her head still bent.  “I would never have imagined that my child—for I did think of the human as my own child—would do harm to others.  I was thinking only of the possibility that others would do harm to them.”  Her eyes became watery.  “This was foolish of me.  I should have known better.”

“how come?  have you met humans before?”

Now the shame was beginning to grow painful.  But there was no reason it should not be painful.  “Yes.  I have known several.  All children.”  Except for those in the distant, distant past, but those faces were already forgotten.

“several?  let me guess how many.  six?”

It seemed this skeleton—Sans?—was at least as astute as Toriel herself.  “Yes.  All the children whose souls Asgore harvested first came through my home and my care.”  She decided not to mention the very first.

“huh.  and did any of them… show signs of violence?”

An affinity for guns.  A fondness for tricking Toriel into consuming hot peppers.  A propensity for punching and yelling.  “Some of them, yes.”

“they did, huh?  and, even so, you kept taking them in?  and letting them go?”

Toriel’s lip curled.  She remained bent in geneflection, not seeking her companion’s eyes. “Each of them desired freedom.  Some simply wanted to find their way home, so that they could return to the lives and families they had known.  One had a quest to fulfill.  One… simply came to hate me.”  She raised her head.  “I took them in because they were children in need of care, and I let them go in time because I could not satisfy their every need alone.”

The skeleton was quiet a while.  “and this last one?  why did they leave?”

Toriel sniffed.  “I wish I knew.”

“you didn’t ask?”

“They only kept asking how to leave the Ruins.  When I asked why they would not stay with me, they did not reply.”  She shed a tear.  “And yet, when I finally relented… they hugged me.  Dearly.”  She dared to look up.  “It was clear that they felt love for me, and yet, for some reason, could not remain in my home.”

“but… didn’t it ever occur to you that some of these kids might have been dangerous?”

She reflected.  “I was a mother to them.  I lay awake at night worrying that they would be harmed.  I suppose my care for them blinded me somewhat to their nature.”

The skeleton was silent for a long time.  Toriel eventually straightened, though she remained kneeling.  She said nothing.  It was not her place to speak next, for she was the one with dust on her hands, the one in need of forgiveness.

“the souls.  they’re gone, right?”

“Yes,” said Toriel.  “Although it is possible that they may still be lingering, somewhere.”

“so what happens when another human child comes through?  do you take them in again?”

That was a very difficult question.  She was responsible, in part, for the death of this monster’s brother.  And the answer he would want to hear was not the answer she wished to give.

“you would, wouldn’t you?”

Toriel nodded forlornly.

“but you’d be more careful about letting them out of your sight, right?

Toriel considered.  She nodded again, more emotionally this time.

A bell clanged thrice.

She was on her feet instantly.  “What in the world?!”

“don’t worry about it.”  The skeleton was still lounging easily on her sofa.  “it didn’t come from anywhere.  it just happens around me sometimes.  and usually?  for each person, it only happens once.”

There was no bell in this house that Toriel knew of.  There certainly had not been a bell when she and Asgore had lived here together.  “Explain yourself, please.”

The skeleton sat up straight, grinning enigmatically.  “i already did.  remember when i knocked, and you asked, ‘who’s there?’”

This was only getting stranger.  “You said, ‘Judge.’”

The skeleton nodded.  “yup.  that’s me.  i’m your judge.  i work for you now.”

Was this somehow a joke?  “I was not aware that there was such a position as the Royal Judge.”

“well, usually asgore just called me ‘the judge.’  not royal anything.  but it’s true.  now that he’s gone, i work for you.  and i just judged you.”

Toriel swallowed.  “And what is your judgment?”

He put out his arms and sprawled on the sofa.  “you’re alright.”

Silly though the moment was, Toriel felt relief flood through her.  She stifled a laugh.  “Really?”

“yup.  you messed up, but you were acting out of love.  and you know what you did wrong, and you want to do better next time.  sure, if you hadn’t let the kid go, the most precious person in the world to me would still be here.  but.”  One of his eyes suddenly shone bright for an instant.  “it’s my fault too.  i didn’t have to let you talk me into making that promise.  i was a chump.”

This would not do.  “Sans—that is your name, correct?”  He nodded.  “Sans, I am very sorry for making a chump out of you.  If you would prefer, I will never ask you to promise me anything again.”

He shrugged.  “you know the consequences.  i’ll leave it up to you.”

Now that the weight of the moment had passed, Toriel wanted to know more.  “Can you… please explain to me what the purpose of your office is?”

“you mean, what does the judge do?”

“Yes, precisely.”

“i judge people.  it’s kinda that simple.  i look at them and decide whether they’re okay or not.  i don’t do it a lot, so don’t ask me to judge someone just cause you think they might have lied to you.  like i said, i usually only do it once for each person, so you don’t want to use it up on something small.”

Given that, it was humbling and significant that he had chosen to judge Toriel on their first face to face meeting.  But she could not say it had been unjustified.  Was it even a choice, or did he… judge without trying?  “I shall keep that in mind!  It may indeed come in handy.  If I may ask… how do you perform your judgments?”

The skeleton crossed his hands behind his head.  “aahh, i’d rather not say.  honestly, if you want to fire me, i won’t be mad.  basically, you can believe me, or not.  it’s fine either way.”

Toriel’s nostrils flared.  “I have no intention of firing you, Sans.  You are my friend.  And even if you have judged me kindly, I am still guilty of making possible the death of—”

He lifted a bony hand.  “ut.  don’t mention it.  you don’t want your judge to fall apart, do you?”

Toriel stood stubbornly.  “Of course I do not.”

“then let’s change the subject.  because i’m just barely keeping it together.  it’s good to talk to you again.  got any new jokes?”

With some difficulty, Toriel managed to switch gears.  “As a matter of fact, I have been rather preoccupied lately.”

The grin grew slightly.  “yeah?  i’m not surprised.”

“I am faced with reassuming a role I have not occupied for hundreds of years.  I had not yet finished grieving the loss of my child when I learned that I must grieve for my former husband instead.  And I am also coping with guilt, as you have seen.”

“so, no jokes?”

Toriel stared sternly at the skeleton.  “I have only been able to compose six or seven new jokes.  I am merely explaining why the number is not greater.”

“oh.  i gotcha.  all right.  lay ‘em on me.”

So Toriel assumed a joke-telling position in her easy chair and proceeded to share her material with her new judge.  It was something of a delight—she had never had the benefit of facial expressions or gestures before when it came to making him laugh.  He seemed receptive to her style of delivery—perhaps it was her eager good faith, or the way she kept her hands neatly folded?  In any case, it was excellent to still have someone she could laugh with.  Toriel had feared that she would have to do without.

“Tell me, Sans.  Why is my floor so dirty?”

He leaned over to look.  “it’s not really dirty at all, if you ask me.  then again, i’ve got like zero standards when it comes to keeping things clean.  so i’ll bite.  toriel, why’s your floor so dirty?”

She displayed a calculated grin.  “Because I have not yet had time to QUEEN up!”

Seeing the way Sans’s eyes went dark for a second before the eruption of his deep laugh somehow made it indescribably more satisfying.

[++++++++]

Chapter Text

Scene 9: Mylar Tape Lasts for Hundreds of Years Apparently
or
”Bad Night”

That pun… something about it felt familiar.  Something about it resonated.  Even with everything else Alphys had to worry about—all her totally valid fears and inadequacies—for some absurd reason, the thing keeping her from falling asleep was the memory of Toriel joking, “They would have called me, u-MOMMY!”

What was wrong with Alphys?!

It was almost as if she could hear the queen’s voice, here in bed with her.  And that thought, she really had to get out of her head.  The boss monster terrified her, to tell the truth.  She was just as wise as Asgore, but far more incisive—she’d gotten to the bottom of Alphys’s biggest secret over the course of just one dinner.

Well, second-biggest, she supposed.  Now that she’d actually helped a human child who’d gone on to murder the king.  

It had seemed like the right thing to do at the time.  She’d wanted the child to stay with her, but they’d made it clear that wasn’t going to happen, so it was either them or Asgore… and who was Alphys to say that a child should die?  But now she missed the king, and besides… it was treason no matter how you stacked it up, wasn’t it?  Alphys was guilty of high treason.  Compared to that, conducting unethical experiments on patients and then lying about it seemed almost quaint.

She lay staring at the ceiling with a grotesque look of hope on her face.  Could there be an upside to this?  Maybe knowing that her real crime was so much more terrible would give her the push she needed to come clean on the Amalgamates!  After all, there was no better motivation for doing something you’ve been putting off than for an even worse job to come along.

Or as Gaster had once put it, “PROCRASTINATION IS AN EXCELLENT TOOL FOR COMPLETING THE SECOND-HARDEST ITEM ON ONE’S LIST.”

Alphys sighed.  She really missed the sound of Gaster’s voice.  Not to mention that his advice would be really helpful right about now.

Not that there was anything lacking about Asgore’s voice, of course.  It had been a powerful bass, like the steady anchor of a ship at sea.  He was someone whose voice she wouldn’t mind hearing in bed… not one bit.  She’d roll over and find him there, and he’d hold her, and comfort her, and she’d know in an instant that everything would be all right.  …If only he weren’t dead.  If only she hadn’t enabled his murder.  And if only she’d ever had the guts to tell him how she…

In anger, she squashed her head into a pillow.  Why did Alphys have to crush on everyone she respected?  Why couldn’t she just respect them?  It made her feel so bottled up…

She remembered Asgore telling her that she had an excellent mind for inquiry.  She remembered his look of wonder when she’d first introduced him to Mettaton, how he’d been so cautious shaking hands with the robot… and how he’d told her afterwards that he was sure she’d serve him well for a very long time.  God, don’t think about what happened.  Better to hug than cry yourself to sleep…  But really, either would be okay, because any kind of sleep would be better than this.

Alphys drifted on the edge of dreams.  Asgore was with her in bed now, and she savored his soft, warm touch.  Voices came to her from out of the darkness, from within.

“What is my favorite vegetable?” asked Toriel.

“Hmm… carrots, right?” replied Asgore.

“No no no!  My FAVORITE vegetable is… Eda-MOM-e.”

Alphys sat bolt upright, blankets falling.

The videos!  The video tapes she’d found in the castle!

She’d forgotten about them.  But they were of Asgore and his old family!  She vaguely remembered getting the sense that his kids had hatched a plan to poison themselves, or something, and she’d decided never to watch them again, since what was the point of digging up centuries-old tragedies?  But… the first tape had been him and his wife, hadn’t it?

It was almost inconceivable that someone else would have the exact same propensity for mother-themed puns.  But it was possible to impersonate mannerisms.  So Alphys jumped out of bed, nearly catching the tip of her tail as it clanged into a cube, and hurried for the elevator to her secret lab.  She hustled through the hallways, ignoring the late-night amalgamates who trailed after, hoping for attention or snacks.  She ran down to the TV lounge, found the ancient VHS tapes, and popped in the first one.

“Psssst.  Gorey, wake up.”

Sure enough.  That was her.  That was the voice of the woman she’d had dinner with the other day.  It was younger, sure, but it was definitely the same person.  She listened through the rest of the tape just to make sure.  Then, numbly, she put in the rest of the tapes and listened to them, one by one—none of them had any visuals.  Toriel’s voice was on the last tape.  Alphys felt her throat constricting: she was listening to a mother utterly afraid that her child would die.  But Alphys knew that both her children had died.  And then, of course, she’d left her husband.  Things were going to be so much worse for the scared woman on the tape than she could imagine, and Alphys, listening, knew it.

She couldn’t cry.  She left the secret lab with her jaws tense and a headache building.

Now she knew for certain that Toriel was the true queen.  There was no more pretext of doubt.  If she continued stonewalling because of Toriel’s identity, she would be full-out lying.  Yet despite this, she didn’t regret listening again to the tapes.  Alphys was a scientist, and for her, pursuit of truth was more important than any form of self-deception.

If only she could apply that standard to the truths she told other people.

…She’d been so close to sleep, too.  Well, that was a lost cause now.  Might as well get some work done.

Alphys seated herself at her giant console.  She created a blank document and titled it, “SOUL DETECTOR: BRAINSTORMING SHEET.”

She typed for fifteen minutes, during which time she succeeded partially in forgetting the breadth of her troubles.

Then, giving in, she pushed a few buttons and slumped back in her chair.  Episode 25 of Flower Saga Radiant, a shoujo anime, started to play.    Alphys gave it her full attention.  Within half an hour, her fears were gone and she was lost in the world of her show.

She watched four more episodes before finally collapsing back into bed, her mind filled with thoughts of secret admirers, elaborate transformation sequences and brilliantly colored gardens, all playing out under the light of the human sun.

[*********]

Chapter Text

Scene 10: An Ambition Takes Root
or
”Spear of Justice”

Things had been quiet for a long stretch… but when a stretch like that ended, it was the more exciting for the long wait.  That human kid who’d come by felt like the end of a stretch… and now, sure enough, the shopkeeper had company.  Things were moving!

“Wahaha!  Look who’s come to visit!” he cried.

Rather than echoing, his cavalier voice overpowered the small cave, making it feel like a room in an ordinary home.  Reflected luster from the starstones in the walls gleamed off Undyne’s triangle-filled grin.  “Why wouldn’t I come to visit?  I never understood why you find everything so damn funny!”

“Because it is!” insisted Gerson.  “If you look from the right angle.  And by the time you reach my age, you’ve pretty much picked your angle!”  His involved a lot of seeing the humor in things.

“Yeah, well.  Speaking of that.”

“Speaking of ages, or angles?” asked the old tortoise in the pith helmet.

“Ages!” replied. Undyne, crouching to keep from bumping her head.  It amused Gerson to have a low ceiling.  “You heard about Asgore?”

He winked an old yellow eye.  Time to provide his own take.  “I heard he finally found his way out!”

“His way out?  Of where?”

“Of his own web!  Old Dreemurr had been looking for a way out ever since he lost his folks and declared war on the surface!  You didn’t think he really wanted to destroy humanity, did you?”

By the warrior’s expression, she was indeed surprised.  “What?  Of course he did!  It was what he was all about!”

Gerson laughed.  “For a week, maybe!  After the surface folk killed his kid, I’d’ve bet he really would destroy ‘em to a soul.  That’s how angry he was!  But old Fluffybuns was soft.  He couldn’t hold that anger in him.”  He sized up his guest.  “Not the way you can!  He let it slip away, piece by piece, until all that was left was the promise.  But what a promise!”

One of Undyne’s magical blue spears pierced the wall over the shopkeeper’s head.  It nearly took his helmet off; he ducked suddenly, spun around to view the damage, and popped back up, chipper as ever.  “Remember, young lady, you’re in my shop.  You break, you buy!”

“You’re calling Asgore a liar?!” she demanded.

Gerson smiled.  “What I’m calling him, is a politician.”  He chuckled knowingly.  “He only did what he had to.  After all, if he’d just shrugged and said, ‘Let the humans do whatever they want’—well, that wouldn’t have been too good for morale, would it?  And over the long haul, morale is life.”

Undyne’s crouch grew deeper, her yellow eye shining.  “You almost seem happy that Asgore died!”

“Happy?  You’ve got me wrong, Undyne.  I’m gonna miss the old bugger something fierce.  But when things go bad, you’ve got to look on the bright side. And the bright side here is that Dreemurr’s troubles are done.  Did you know he was terrified of what would happen when Human Kid Number Seven finally decided to drop in?  Did you know he cried into his pillow every time he harvested a human soul?  I should know—I was his pillow once!  Wuah ha ha!”

The spear in the wall vanished, leaving a gash not terribly out of place in the jagged cave.  “Look, Gerson.  We can talk about Asgore and how DETERMINED he was some other time.  Right now, I’m here for information.  Did you hear who came along after he died, all ‘Whoop-de-do, I get to be in charge now’?”

What was this?  “Can’t say I have,” said Gerson.  “Honestly?  I would’ve thought that job would go to you!’

Undyne frowned, shocked.  “Me?  Rule the Kingdom of Monsters?”

“Well, why not?  You’re determined, strong, a go-getter if I ever saw one.  You’re a woman who knows what she wants!  And you actually believe in justice!   That, I admire.”

Undyne peered.  “Don’t you believe in justice?  They used to call you the Hammer of Justice!”

“And I used to be young,” Gerson countered.  “I’ve seen too much.  But if you can hang onto that, do it!  Believing in justice and being a strong leader?  That takes the cake!”

It looked like his words were beginning to make an impression.  “You think I would be a good queen?”

Didn’t she think so?  “Sure!  Good as anyone,” he shrugged, before getting things back on track.  “But you were about to tell me who’s shown up and taken over instead.  I wouldn’t mind hearing who I’m expected to answer to!”

The fish warrior was silent a moment, lost in her own thoughts.  “No one,” she finally said.  “Some random guy called Flame Heatsman or something.  Claims he’s descended from royalty, if only we’d just remember.”

“What?!”  Well, that wasn’t what Gerson had been expecting.  “Undyne, I’d lay crowns to crab apples that’s pure succotash!  Asgore didn’t have any relatives after his kid died, excepting his wife, of course, and she’s long gone.  Nope, the throne’s up for grabs!  And it sounds like anyone interested had better hurry up and get their claim in.”  He winked, just to cement the idea in the fish’s brain.

Undyne stared.  “Are you saying you’d support me?”

Gerson let loose with a devil-may-care laugh.  “Of course!  I let you fight at my heels all through your childhood, and a very diligent fighter you were, too!  Who else would I support?”

Undyne pressed her lips thoughtfully together.  Then she tossed her ponytail back.  “Well, of course you’d back me up!  I would be worthy of the throne, wouldn’t I?  I’d probably have Alphys install some new features in it, of course, like an ejector seat.  And spears that shoot from the arms!  And a new paint job.  But she loves doing that sort of thing!”

Now she was getting into the spirit of the idea.  And Gerson was glad.  He was awfully sad about Asgore having finally kicked the bucket, but if he could pick anyone in the Underground to replace him, it might as well be this warrior lady right here.  Laughing jovially, he plopped a thermos of sea tea on the counter.  “Care to drink to your new fortunes?”

Undyne seized the thermos, grinning.  “Don’t mind if I do!”  She took a heavy swig and slammed it down.

Gerson drank from the same thermos, exhaled, and wiped his mouth.  “Just one thing,” he added.  “Promise me you’ll be a good queen?  You’ll do the right thing whenever you can tease out what it is, and never let your power get to your head?”

Undyne didn’t answer right away—she had to catch her breath and think.  But then she nodded dramatically.  “I’ll be the best ruler monsterkind ever had!  I’ll do all the right things.  But if I ever get too full of myself?”  She smacked a spear down on the counter.  “I want YOU to put me back on track!”

What?  That was more flattering and more sensible than the old tortoise had been expecting.  “Me?” he replied.  “You really think these old bones’d have anything to say to your young frame?”

The captain grinned and winked.  “Don’t be coy, Gerson.  I know you can still beat me.  You’ll always be able to beat me.  Even if I am stronger, my brain’s no match for yours.”

She might have a point.  “Well!  That’s a bit of an issue, isn’t it?  A good ruler needs a good head on her shoulders.  Where’s yours?”

To Gerson’s surprise, Undyne stood up stock straight and pointed east toward Hotland.  “She’s over that way in her lab!  If I become queen, I know she’ll be my best adviser!”

“O-ho!  So you really do have a brain—you just don’t keep it in your skull!”  Gerson tapped his own head.  “Very clever.  You’re talking about that little yellow one, I presume?  The one who’s always scavenging in the dump?”

“That’s her!”

But how exactly did they know each other?  He shot her a sly look.  “You two are close, then?”

Now Undyne was embarrassed.  “We’re pals!  We’re good pals.  I help her carry stuff sometimes, and she teaches me about human history!  Pretty much just the awesome parts, though.”

Gerson wondered if there was more than that—he knew Undyne was a ladies’ girl.  But it wasn’t really his business, was it?  “Sounds like a friendship made in heaven!” he said, putting away the empty thermos.  “Well, I’ve got no qualms, then.  You’ll be the brawn on the throne, and she’ll be the brains behind it.  Just like Toriel used to be.”  He picked up Undyne’s spear and waved it toward the door.  “Might as well go let her know your big plans!”

Undyne laughed aloud and ducked out of the cave.  “No need to run!  I’ll send her a text!  She loves getting those.”

Fair enough!  Gerson didn’t know a text from a textile, but he appreciated the existence of newfangled things.  “Nice seeing you, squirt!  Don’t be afraid to tap me for advice now and then, too!”

“Will do!” said Undyne, saluting.

She then turned grimly to working the buttons on her phone.  Gerson watched with a twinkle in his eye, reflected by countless starstones that had been reminding monsters of the sky they’d lost for almost as long as they’d been underground.  So now, at long last, a new face was about to lead monsterkind, with a brilliant mind supporting her.  Tides rise, he reflected, and tides fall.  Would they be good leaders?  Well, why not?  It wasn’t like he’d do a better job!

Nearby, echo flowers recorded the quiet beep-beep-beep of a cell phone about to reshape history.

[/\/\/\/\/\]

Chapter Text

Scene 11: Allegiances Form
or
“The Choice”

The trembling clerk behind the counter with a dangerously tall smile repeated his prescribed line: “Welcome to MTT Brand Burger Emporium, Home of the Glamburger! Sparkle up your day!”

The red-haired, round headed little monster in a trench coat before him cleared their throat. “Actually… I have a special instruction for you. Splendiferous!”

The clerk seemed to snap a little at the sound of the word. “Splendiferous?!  Well, of course! Right this way!” He opened up a section of the counter and gestured through with unnecessary helpfulness. “The big cheese did say he was expecting a visitor, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around before!”

“Aheh… well, I’m just one of his fans. You know how he is… always reaching out to fans!”

“Oh, I sure do! He’ll reach out to anyone if it’ll make his employees jealous!” The clerk pressed the handle of a soft-serve starfait machine the wrong way.  Dark red goop started swirling from it, steaming as it hit the grate. A section of wall bearing a poster full of employee regulations opened up, revealing a narrow red staircase. “Right through here, sir and/or ma’am!”

The redheaded monster in the trench coat stepped up the stairs one by one. Then the door shut behind her, leaving the staircase lit only by twinkling pink and purple lights and by glowing hearts affixed to the wall.  Alphys took off her disguise and rolled it into a neat little packet. She might have gotten by without it, but then, there were an awful lot of monsters these days who wanted to talk to her about their loved ones. That could easily have been… awkward.

Not like this meeting.  This meeting wasn’t going to be awkward in the slightest!  It was just another ordinary, routine meeting of the Underground’s Human Fanclub.  Ugh, these funhouse stairs were always annoying—by the top, they got so tall that Alphys had to climb up. Maybe she should invent spring shoes for herself? Right, sure, that would probably be a good use of her time. If she ever did, she wouldn’t be surprised if Mettaton made his private office even harder to get to in response.

He didn’t even wait for her. His amplified voice crackled through the stairwell from speakers that he’d apparently installed everywhere.  “Alphys, dear!  You seem to be having trouble!  Would you like help?”

Alphys looked up. “I guess?” she called.

Machinery crackled.  The stairs started to heave up and down, leaving huge gaps between one and the next. Alphys shrieked and struggled to catch her balance on a single step.

“What are you doing?!” she yelled.

“Do you like it? It’s my personal take on the ‘escalator’ concept,” said the voice over the loudspeakers. “Automated stairs are a fabulous idea, but one simply rising above the next? How boring! This way, you can proceed by stepping down from one stair to the next, only to find yourself sky-high in seconds!”

The idea sounded terrible and turned out to be even worse than it sounded.  Alphys was lurched up and down as she made her way slowly forward, sometimes retreating backward in order to escape a particularly dangerous step.  She nearly toppled once or twice, but managed to skitter forward when the stairs were close together, and eventually she made it to the top without being physically harmed. She’d lost her disguise, but maybe she could retrieve it on the way out?

Mettaton emerged proudly from his office to meet her before she could get her bearings. “Why, if it isn’t Dr. Alphys!”  As if he somehow hadn’t known it was her.  “It’s so good to see you again. Won’t you please come in?”

The foyer was painted garish colors—crimson, lime, carnation pink, drab orange—with circles and zigzags and dots everywhere, and even a fake door or two. It was poorly lit, like a funeral home for clowns. Mettaton himself was wearing a dark blue leisure suit with a pink and black shirt peeking out. The funny thing was that he didn’t normally wear clothes in public at all—his EX body was designed to look respectable and glamorous on its own—which meant that he was actually putting in extra effort in order to dress casually. Alphys assumed there was some message there.

“S…sure!” she replied.  “You, uh, look good!”

Saying nothing in response, he strode forward and kicked open a door that Alphys hadn’t even seen amid all the confusing wall patterns. It flew open as if it were designed to be kicked. Inside was Mettaton’s familiar office, appointed with desk, chair, file cabinet, chaise lounge, numerous huge pillows with his face on them, and a deluxe, oversized sound system. The window, with a seductively curved perimeter, overlooked the third level of Hotland and the entrance to the resort. Alphys suspected that he actually slept in here sometimes.

“Please close the door, Doctor. After all, we wouldn’t want anyone eavesdropping, in case sensitive things are discussed here!”

Alphys closed the door a little nervously. “H-How’s the new body working out?” After his dramatic and televised defeat to the human child, Alphys had rebuilt Mettaton with a more energy-efficient system. It wasn’t capable of such dramatic poses and kicks, but it could last a lot longer before having to be recharged.  In theory, at least.  Alphys hadn’t seen him at all since then, except on the television.

He sat down in a swiveling office chair and crossed his legs, which still had hot pink highlights on the calves—Alphys had made sure of that. “Oh, I’ve been getting by. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that since I went EX, my ratings have risen like birds!” He grabbed a tumbler of something caramel-colored with ice and gulped deeply from it, his arm curving like a giant noodle. “Or perhaps I do need to tell you. You’ve been rather reclusive of late, haven’t you, Doctor?”

“Can’t—um, can’t you just call me Alphys, like you used to?  I, uh.. yes, I guess I have been pretty busy, what with one thing and another.  But I asked to see you, didn’t I?  That must count for something.”

“Indeed!” A jovial smile crossed Mettaton’s metallic features as he grabbed up a gavel from the desk. “And on that note, I hereby declare the fourteenth meeting of the Official Human Fanclub of the Underground… open!” The gavel struck the desk so hard Alphys cringed. “Would the official secretary care to read the minutes from our previous meeting?”

This wasn’t entirely in character for Mettaton, who didn’t usually stand on formality for their little two-person club. “Um, can’t we just… dispense with that? I mean, it’s just the two of us, and I… didn’t really come to talk about humans…”

He leaned in abruptly, sliding one heel across the floor with a loud squeal, until his smiling face was far too close to hers. “But isn’t that what we’re here to talk about, Alphys? Perhaps…. about one human in particular?”

This did not bode well. “Um… I guess if you want to?”

He leaned back. “It’s rather the news on everybody’s lips, isn’t it? A tiny human—a mere child—drops into the Underground, slays a prominent resident of Snowdin and a peon in Waterfall, then finds themselves repeatedly doing battle with the Underground’s paramour, and somehow! Somehow, triumphs every time, with the genius assistance of a certain reptilian inventor!” He grabbed a megaphone from his desk—had he prepared for this?—and threw his face to the ceiling, crooning, “THE GREAT! DOCTOR! ALPHYS!” It echoed for longer than it should have. “So, finally, I put my foot down. I reveal the diabolical scheme you inveigled me into, reveal my true beauty—!” He paused to throw out his limbs, tossing his shining hair. “—and attempt to end the threat to monsterkind, thus cementing myself as our greatest hero.”

Alphys didn’t remember it quite like that. “But I thought—you only wanted the human’s soul so you could go to the surface and b-become a star there.”

His face was suddenly in hers, making her cringe again. “Darling. Beloved. Is that really how you want people to remember it? Because as selfish as I come off looking, keep in mind that you. Look. Even. Worse.”

Alphys blinked.  Was that true?  “I… well, yes, I mean, I know…”

He thrust back, his chair slamming into the wall beside the window. “I announced, on live broadcast television, my intention to steal one of the most valuable resources in the Underground—a human soul—for my own purposes, rather than turn it over to the king. Did I change my mind? Certainly! But the human child I chose to spare went on to kill the king… and so you see, darling, when dealing with some people, you simply can’t win.”

He was definitely right about that.  “But… did you get in trouble for it?”

“Not yet!” Mettaton kicked up his heels and landed them loudly, one at a time, on the corner of his desk. “You see, I knew I was being technically treasonous, but King Asgore—there was no way that softheart would actually try to prosecute the Underground’s greatest star. But now.” He glared at Alphys. “Now, we have a new ruler—have you heard about it? Another boss monster, claiming to be Asgore’s long lost wife, has assumed the throne and started making inquiries. How long do you suppose until she hears that the creature who took her husband’s life was on my show and that you and I, working in tandem, failed to detain them? Yes, I went along with your inane plan, but at least I gave stopping them a legitimate try at the end. You, on the contrary, helped the murderer from start to finish.”

This was exactly what Alphys was afraid of.

“Do you… do you think she’ll have us arrested if she finds out?”

“When she finds out, my dear Alphy. If she somehow hasn’t already. And I don’t honestly know! From what I hear, she’s the tender type, so perhaps she’ll forgive our softness toward a child lost in a strange world, on the argument that we didn’t know they had such a murderous nature. But that begs an important question, Alphys…” Suddenly pinpoint spotlights swirled, and familiar game show music played, as Mettaton stared Alphys down. “Did you know that the child had already killed?”

Alphys froze up, her mouth open. “Uh—”

“DID YOU OR DID YOU NOT KNOW?”

Alphys painfully recalled watching the young adventurer end the lives of a skeleton and a monster shaped like a bathtub with legs. “Y-yes, I guess! But… they were just defending themselves, mainly, trying to, to incapacitate monsters so that they could spare them, and, um… I guess a couple of times, they misjudged?” Not with the skeleton. With him, it had been methodical. But saying so wouldn’t help.

“You watched with your hidden cameras,” said Mettaton.

“Yes,” Alphys admitted.

The music stopped, and he dropped to one knee before her. “You saw a murderer cutting through our people, and your take on it was, ‘Ooh! A murderer! I wonder if I can impress them!’”

Alphys hid her face in her hands. “Yes.”

“You are pathetic, Alphys.”

“I know, I know.”

“And you put my reputation in danger as well! I thought we were toying with a harmless child, not a deadly scourge!”

YOU BETRAYED ME! Alphys was tempted to shout. I’m the one who should be mad at you!  But she couldn’t. Shouting in anger wasn’t her nature. So she only cried, “I KNOW! I’m sorry!”

“You must NEVER reveal that you knew. Our story must be that we had no idea the child was capable of murder!”

But you were capable of murder too—you were going to kill them! …was another thing that Alphys didn’t say. “All right. All right, I’ll never tell.”

“And you should really remove those hidden cameras, just to be on the safe side. They could arouse suspicion if anyone tracks them back to you.”

Alphys nodded helplessly. She would get rid of her cameras. She didn’t deserve to have special knowledge of what people were doing.

“As for this queen,” Mettaton continued, “I really don’t know what to expect. Did you know, Undyne has been going around trying to muster support against the queen?  First I heard rumors in the resort, and then, sure enough, just yesterday she asked to meet with me, and asked whether I would support her as queen instead.”

What.  “Undyne… a-as queen?”

“Why, yes, darling!  ‘Support from our only TV star would go a long way,’ she said.  ‘You can win over hearts and minds!  You can bludgeon hearts and minds with your charisma powers!’  Do you know, I think she has things about right?”

Alphys didn’t know what to hope for.  “So… d-did you tell her yes?”

Mettaton threw his arms up in frustration.  “I didn’t know what to tell her!  This new queen may spell the end for me, yes, but how can I be sure Undyne as ruler would be any better?  You know she doesn’t like my show.  And I think she still holds a grudge for what I did to her piano that one time.  She probably isn’t aware of what happened any more than Mrs. Asgore is.”  

“…But she’ll find out,” said Alphys.

“Undoubtedly.  And when she learns that the seventh human soul, the one to break the barrier, could have been ours, and we let it slip through our fingers?”

Alphys gulped.  “Sh-she’ll be mad.”

The robot loomed balefully over Alphys.  “Undyne is always mad.  When she finds out, she will be furious.”

Fear threatened to subsume Alphys.  She felt her breathing getting shallow.

“People are choosing sides, my beloved Alphys!  We must make sure to be on the right one.  It’s like a game show, writ large!”

“Ch-choosing sides?”

“Undyne versus the Queen of the Ruins!  Dramatic, yes?  Which side shall we choose?”

Alphys wanted to disappear.  “Well… Undyne’s side.  She’s… one of my best friends… and besides.”  Her face went red.  “I think it might be because of me that people are taking sides to begin with?”

Mettaton looked surprised and scooted his chair over to the giant pillows, each bearing his face with a different expression.  “Oh, really?  Do tell!”

“Yes, I, uh… well, I kind of… told her that the new queen is asking me a lot of questions… that I don’t really want to be asked.  And she, uh… she said she’d make sure the queen never gets any power.”

Mettaton grinned and laughed.  “Well done!  Oh, Alphys, you still do surprise me sometimes.  Think of it—reclusive little Doctor Alphys, making a power play!  Setting things into motion!”  He spilled backwards from his chair into the pillows and laughed some more.  “Undyne’s claim is based on the premise that the Queen of the Ruins is an impostor.  But as with most things, my yellow friend, I believe this one is a matter of appearances.”

“Appearances?”

“There’s probably no telling either way!  So it’s not whether she really is an impostor that matters… it’s whether the people think she is.”

Alphys gulped.  “Oh, uh.  She’s, uh, definitely not an impostor.  She’s the real queen!”

The robot peered up ominously from his pile of pillows.  “Oh?  How do you know?”

“I, uh, have a VHS tape?  With her voice on it?  And she makes the exact same sort of, uh, food-and-mother-related pun on it that she made to me in person.”

Mettaton frowned.  “Well, you’ll have to destroy that tape, darling.”

Alphys gasped.  “Um!  But… what if we need to prove the truth someday?”

He sat in thought for a few moments.  “Quite right!  Brilliant thinking, Doctor.  We may need it someday to blackmail Undyne, in case she turns against us after assuming power.  Hide the tape well, but leave it intact!”

This all seemed awfully clandestine.  “So you actually think we should go along with Undyne?  E-even though Toriel is the real queen?”

“Well, if you don’t want your career, your reputation, and for that matter quite possibly your freedom to go up in smoke…”  He blew on his fingers as if dispersing something to the wind.  “…then I think we’d better!  It’s perfect, Alphys.  This way, we get to play it both ways!”

Alphys huddled on the floor in doubt.

Mettaton stood up.  “What’s coming isn’t pretty, my friend.  But the two of us—we have an edge!  You happen to be friends with one of the two claimants!  Indeed, if your shelf of secret shipfics is any indication, you may even be more than friends.”

Alphys hadn’t known she could blush this hard.  “She doesn’t like me like I like her…”

“Well, no one can crush quite like you, darling.  Even so!  Undyne likes you enough to be merciful, and as you and I are like peas in a pod…”  His arm fell gently around her shoulders.  “…it would be downright indecent of her not to be merciful to me, too!”

Alphys started to feel hopeful again.  “Yeah… I guess that’s true…”

“And if there is to be war, both of us will be invaluable assets.  You can provide weapons, and I can give her a ratings boost, so to speak.  We’ll be sure to win!  And once we do?  How could she do anything but forgive us for our crimes?  Why, I’ve almost forgotten what those crimes are, just talking about it!”

“T-treason,” stuttered Alphys.

“Treason!  Well, Undyne can hardly accuse us of that without calling the kettle black, can she?  Not after she overthrows the rightful ruler.  Alphys, I think our course is plain!  Somehow, things are so much clearer when I have you to talk to.  How do you do it?”

He lifted her up over his head.  Was he kissing her?  Yes!  That was a kiss on the lips!  Alphys hyperventilated and tried to decide whether to kiss back.  But before she could make up her mind, he’d set her down on the floor again.

“Thank you so much for coming over, Alphys.  I think this has been a very productive meeting of the Human Fanclub.”

She tried to calm down.  “I’m… glad you think so?”

He went and lay down on the chaise lounge.  “Do we have any more business to discuss?”

Alphys’s mind raced.  She wanted to leave, but she’d come there for company, and somehow it felt like she’d only gotten… conspiracy.  “I… guess I did have one question for you.”

“Yes, doctor?  Anything.”

Alphys stood forward.  “Did… you really think you could cross through the barrier and… just, become a star in the human world?  Just like that?  Without even any agents, or… or anything?”

Mettaton frowned.  “Well, I knew it would be a challenge, but when have I ever shied away from one of those?  I still fully intend to entertain the surface world someday.  Perhaps, when the barrier finally falls, I can be the icon to unite monsters and humans under one fabulously beautiful entertainment banner!”

“You didn’t… think they might k-kill you?”

He sat up.  “Now, Alphys.  Haven’t we discussed this often enough at our club meetings?  You and I both agree that just because the humans drove our race underground millennia ago, and despite the occasional bad apple that may drop into our realm, doesn’t mean the entire human race is bereft of decency!”

She nodded.  She knew that any creatures who made such amazing and uplifting cartoons and comics couldn’t be all bad.  “They’ve probably changed a lot since the War of Humans and Monsters!”

“Exactly.  And besides…”  Mettaton grinned his most adorable, coyest grin.  “What creature, man or monster, could possibly hurt a face like this?”

Alphys grinned.  He had a point.

“So there we are.  Someday, Alphys.  Someday.”

She had to admit the thought of Mettaton as a superstar on the surface appealed to her.  Maybe if she couldn’t have her happy ending, he could at least get his.  “I hope you get to see the surface someday, Mettaton.  I know they’ll love you up there.”

“Thank you for having faith in me, dear friend.”   Standing, he strode to the desk and picked up the gavel.  “Is there any other business?”

Alphys shook her head.

It sounded on the table.  “Then I declare this meeting of the Human Fanclub adjourned!  I trust you can find your own way out, beloved?”

“Yes… but maybe you could make the stairs just be n-n-normal on the way out?”

He sighed and pushed a button.  “Ordinary, mundane stairs it is.  Anything for you, Alphys.  And remember—hide the tape; remove the cameras; deny all knowledge; support Undyne.  I trust that we’re on the same page?”

Alphys nodded several times.  “We’re on the same page.”  Even if she didn’t care much for the book.

Mettaton walked to the door and kicked it open again with a slam.  Somehow, it opened outward both ways.  Maybe when Undyne was queen, Alphys should offer to install a door like that for her.

She timidly waved goodbye and worked her way down the stairs, retrieving her disguise and putting it on again before she exited back into the Burger Emporium.  All the while, she was worrying about the plan they’d decided on.  Well, that Mettaton had decided on, really.  Would Undyne really be as merciful as he thought?  Would the change of power really be that easy?  Would she even be willing to blackmail Undyne, if it came to that?

It was lucky that Alphys had friends with ambition, like Mettaton and Undyne, so that she didn’t have to have any of her own.  Alphys loved learning new things and creating new machines, along reading and watching TV, but she didn’t really have any ambitions past that.

And yet, as she trudged home incognito, she suffered a funny little twinge of disappointment.  Now that she was going to help overthrow Queen Toriel, did that mean she’d never get her giant, quiet sleepover?

A sound emitted from her pocket: “Bee-da-doop!”

She pulled out her phone and read the text message.  It was from Undyne.  Undyne rarely texted; she preferred to yell over the phone, arguing that capital letters didn’t fully convey the complexity of all her different levels of volume.  So this had to be something special.

“hey Alphy, u wanna help me be [queen]?”

The word ‘queen’ was represented by a queen bee emoji with a tiny crown.  Undyne’s huge, grinning buddy icon sat beside the message, as if goading her on.  Alphys shut her mouth tight into a nervous wiggle of uncertainty.

Another text followed.  “i need ur help 2 prove toriel is impostr”

And another.  “u can be my chief advisr whaddya say?”

Alphys sighed and daydreamed for one indulgent moment of a kingdom-wide, peaceful sleepover run by Queen Toriel.  It was too cute for words.

Then she hit Reply and typed:

“kk sounds good.”

Well, in the real world, you couldn’t have everything, right?

[***********]

Chapter Text

Scene 12: The Line Is Drawn
or
“Necessary Tension”

Toriel grappled with the urge to lighten the mood.  She despised the kind of tension that now filled the throne room; her every instinct told her to leaven it with a kind word, or a joke, or slices of pie all around.  But there were times in life (and they were thankfully rare) when lightness was not appropriate.  Toriel was about to live through one of those times, and she had to admit that there was dread in her heart.  Yet it had to be done.  For better or worse, there would still be pie afterward, if it was needed.  In the end, there would always be pie.

Muffet stood to her left, arms crossed over arms.  She tapped a foot lightly, fidgeting.  To the right stood the Dogi, also watching the doors, but  intermittently peeking at each other in exact unison.  Their halberds were at the ready.  Against the wall were Royal Guards 01 and 02, also prepared for action.

Crash, went the distant elevator.  Tromp, tromp, tromp, came the footsteps through the hallway.  Every monster in the room tensed.  Toriel rose slowly to her feet.

A final step echoed just behind the doors, which had been rehung on their hinges.  The blow that followed left both doors mangled.  No one bothered to announce Undyne, Captain of the Guard, nor any of the figures arrayed behind her.  Knight Knight.  Madjick.  Astigmatism.  And others, all clad in armor or uniform and standing proudly behind their blue-scaled leader in black.

“Captain Undyne.  You were good enough to answer my summons,” said Toriel.

“I came because I wanted to,” said Undyne.

Toriel was unsure how to reply to this.  Should she patiently explain that while she appreciated Undyne wanting to see her, orders were not optional while in her employ?  That would be foolish and naive, she knew.  Yet the foolish and naive approach was often correct; it was the natural way to extend the benefit of the doubt.

But was there any doubt here?  Was there even the appearance of doubt?

“I have been speaking to Miss Muffet,” said Toriel, indicating the spider who stood smiling scornfully.  “She informs me that you have been mustering support against me.”

Undyne clenched her teeth, then nodded.  “I’ve completed my investigation.  My initial instincts were right!  You are not the queen you say you are.”

Toriel felt her ears pressing tight against her skull.  “And may I ask how you arrived at that conclusion?”

“I asked people.  I sent guards to ask people.  That ghost friend of yours?  Their story doesn’t jibe with Shyren’s, or yours, for that matter!”  She pointed a spear toward Muffet, glaring daggers.  “And I talked to Gerson, a friend I’ve known for a long time, so I know he wouldn’t lie.  He actually knew the old queen, and he said you’re not her!”

Now this was just too much.  Toriel remembered Gerson—a spark in her was delighted to hear he was still among the living after all this time.  “How could he possibly come to that conclusion without speaking with me?” she demanded.

“Eh, I described you.  He said you looked totally different.  And even that skeleton sentry—my people said he didn’t know a thing about you!”

Sans, bless his soul, picked that moment to gracefully sidle out from behind the throne, revealing himself.  Toriel did not look back at his face, but his voice suggested a dark expression indeed.  “didn’t know a thing about her, huh?  you sure you wanna go with that?”

Undyne scowled in surprise.  Toriel was satisfied to see that she had not expected the skeleton sentry to be in her company.  “You!  What are you doing here?”

“keeping the queen company.  what’re you doing to help things?”

“Yes,” tittered Muffet.  “I would very much like to know the same thing!”

Undyne cast baleful looks at them all.  The gathered forces behind her seethed, ready for action.  Toriel’s impression was that they had not expected to find her so well guarded.  She mentally calculated how it would go if a battle were to break out.  Undyne’s troop outnumbered them two to one… not counting the spiders hiding in the eaves.  But Sans… Toriel had the sense that he was capable of causing quite a lot of mayhem if a situation called for it.  It was possible that Undyne knew that, too.

“I’m trying to save your sorry butts from this IMPOSTOR!” she finally yelled.

“And how do you know she’s an impostor, again?” jeered Dogaressa.  “Because of the interviews you had me and my husband conduct?”

“Their stories matched up perfectly!” shouted Dogamy.

“POCKEY!” yelled Undyne.  “She’s paid you off!  She thinks she can buy the kingdom because she’s rich!  But some monsters have too much HEART to be bought!”  She tipped her head back toward her loyal followers.

Toriel made her best effort to stay calm.  “Captain.  As it happens, I know the truth about whether or not I have paid off certain individuals.  And as it happens, I have not.  Therefore, I can only conclude that you are telling deliberate falsehoods, and that your allegiance is therefore not to the throne.”

“Hear hear!” said Muffet, and an excited, high-pitched rustle sounded from above.

“I am therefore terminating your employment with the crown,” continued Toriel, “and appointing Dogaressa and Dogamy the new joint Captains of the Guard.”

Ferocity sparked in that yellow eye.  “YOU CAN’T FIRE ME!” roared Undyne, pounding the hilt of her spear into the floor.  “I QUIT!”

“I believe she just did fire you, sweetie,” said Muffet with fake concern.  “You’ll have to be a little faster on the draw next time!”

“I quit so fast it happened before her firing reached me!” retorted Undyne.  “And I quit so hard it’ll destroy this whole travesty of a regime!  You’ll see!  We’ll be back!”

“I suppose I am forced to consider you an enemy of the crown, then,” said Toriel.  “I am disappointed, Undyne.  I had hoped that we could get along.”

“Well, maybe if you’d been a little less nosy about things, we could have!”

“Nosy?  How was I nosy?”

“Bugging your royal s—just, general, nosy stuff!  You’re not entitled to all the answers!  Anyway, you’re not the real queen, so we’re gonna claim this castle and start our own reign.”

“Do you really believe that the monsters will line up behind you?”

Undyne’s smile was discomfiting.  “Oh, they’ll be behind me.  You’ll see!  Soon they’ll all know the truth about you!”

It suddenly seemed utterly quaint to Toriel that she had been considering disbanding the royal guard.  In a way, her instinct had been correct: the guard had proven more dangerous than anything it might supposedly have been guarding against.  But it was now clear that she could not have succeeded in disbanding them.  Not without building a good deal of trust first, at least.

“I suppose we will, indeed, see what happens,” she declared.  A less controversial statement could hardly have been composed.

Undyne spun around and raised her spear.  “Reverse formation!  March out!” she ordered her troop.  “Hup, two, hup, two, hup, two…”

“see ya,” said Sans.

Soon they were gone.  None of them said a word until the sound of the elevator, large enough to accommodate them all, receded into inaudibility.

“That woman has quite the nerve,” said Muffet.

“She does, does she not?  She would have been such a valuable captain…” Toriel reflected.

“maybe,” said Sans.  Even with the throng gone, he remained behind her, facing the broken doors as if still locked in a showdown.

Dogamy and Dogaressa touched noses, then turned as one to Toriel, saluting.  “Well, we’re honored to serve as your new captains!” said Dogamy.  “Thanks for throwing us a bone!”

“Do you have any orders for us?” asked Dogaressa.

Toriel stood in thought.  “I could have the remaining guards reinforce the castle, could I not?  Extra security at the door, perhaps a moat or drawbridge?”

The Dogi nodded with a sharp *woof!*

She imagined the coming conflict as it were a dream—someone else’s problem.  The siege, the battle, the damage dealt and lives lost.

“We could spin webs for you,” Muffet added.  “Brilliant, innovative webs, so amazing that they would dazzle the senses!”

“And yet,” reasoned Toriel slowly, “what would be the point of that?  Defending ourselves from the will of the people?  We are the will of the people.  If we are not that, then we are nothing.”

There was silence.  “not sure we all follow,” said Sans.

If the monsters of the Underground really did side with Undyne, then there was no sense in Toriel’s remaining queen.  This thought lay heavily upon her, like a stifling blanket in hot weather, but she knew that it was right.  “If they return with a horde of angry monsters, I shall not fight,” she declared.  “I will surrender myself to their mercy.”

“Oh, but darling!” cried Muffet.

“But!” Toriel went on.  “I will not simply let them spread their lies all through the Underground.  We shall spread the word that our erstwhile captain of the guard has been dishonest.  That she has spread lies about me.  Those who know me shall stand up for me and for the truth.  And in… let us say, three days time… I shall address the Kingdom of Monsters.  I shall make a public speech about my husband, myself, and my intentions as Queen.”  She began to pace the room.  “I shall admit to the loss of the souls, but tell the monsters that all is not lost—the souls may be found, or another plan hatched.  Perhaps there is still some way to break the barrier, if we all put our minds together.”  She now walked the perimeter of Asgore’s garden in earnest.  “I shall tell them that from now on, any humans who fall into the Underground shall be treated as friends, not as resources to be harvested.  And yes… I will tell them that in time, I intend to disband the Royal Guard.  A well run civilization does not need protection from itself.”  She looked sharply to the Dogi.  “Does anyone have an objection to this?”

The two saluted promptly.  “No, ma’am.”  Toriel saw the armored guards by the wall salute as well.  She smiled.

“Having said all of this, if the monsters still wish to depose me… then they shall have their way,” Toriel concluded.

She felt a cool touch on her side.  Sans was there.  “hey.  toriel.”

“Yes, my friend?”

“you’re a good person.  just want to let you know.”

She felt a surprising amount of warmth, hearing that.  Her eyes became moist.  “Thank you, Sans.”

“He’s right, dearie.  My brood and I will follow you to the end,” said Muffet.

“We will serve you with our lives, if it comes to it,” said Dogamy.

“If there’s one thing I can’t abide,” added Dogaressa, “it’s liars.  But your scent is true.”

“Like, what we said about following Undyne’s orders?” put in Royal Guard 01.  “Forget about it.”

“…Loyal to you,” said 02.

Toriel broke down and wept.  She sat in her throne and leaned forward, and she wept.  She remembered Asgore, whose presence still lingered here, in these flowers, in this room, and she wondered whether, perhaps… just perhaps, she had been a bit too hard on him.  This job was not easy.  For her, it had barely begun, yet she would much rather be at home, raising children, or even dreaming about having children to raise.  Would Asgore, perhaps, have found things easier if she had stayed in his presence—resisting, yes; angry, yes; but present—for all the years he had been alone?

She sat alone, her face in her hands.  In time, she heard the sounds of movement and voices around her.  The ruined doors again being replaced.  Plans being laid for a public address, posters and fliers designed and proclamations written.  She knew she should be helping, but for now her soul was elsewhere.

It was with Asgore.  For perhaps the last time, she was with Asgore.  And she did not want to let go.

Finally, she rose from her thoughts and allowed herself to rejoin the world.   When she wiped her eyes, she found herself covered in cool gray tears.  Napstablook was beside her.  Someone had sent for them; Toriel was grateful.

“ohhh…. i hope i didn’t distract you… i saw you were having a nice cry… i just thought i’d join you.  i didn’t want to mess it up… in case you were going for a world record or something…”

Toriel laughed through her lingering sorrow.  She reached out to hug the ghost, not caring a whit about how her arms passed clear through.  “It was very soothing,” she said.  “Thank you so much.”

“ohh… sorry… i don’t really know how to take compliments… i’ve never been really good at it… but thanks, i guess.”

Toriel drew a deep breath.  She watched her loyal subjects going about their work.  Trying to protect her honor.  Trying to serve the cause that was right.

“Nosy,” she repeated idly to herself.  “Why did she claim I was nosy?  What does that have to do with whether I am the rightful ruler?”

“beats me,” said Sans, who apparently had been standing beside her.  Well, of course he was beside her—he would hardly have been working, would he?  “maybe you should ask yourself… ‘who have i been asking questions?’”

Somehow, anything Sans said had a certain profundity.  It was hard to believe she had been friends for so long with someone so profound, yet had somehow not realized he was good for anything but jokes.  “Well, there was that dinner with the royal scientist,” she recalled.

“you mean undyne’s girlfriend?”

Toriel blinked.  “Girlfriend?”

Sans shrugged.  “they seem pretty close.”

The bustle continued.  A drill sounded as the armored guards struggled to mount new doors on the hinges.  The spiders chittered excitedly about dividing the underground into regions they could canvass.  Napstablook was mixing beats for the introduction to her royal address.  The dogs discussed making flags with her personal rune and scent.  And all the while, enthusiastic Pyropses came up from the kitchen, delivering sustenance.  The castle was alive.

Toriel pulled out her cell phone, old and worn.  “Sans?  Would you happen to have, by any chance, the phone number for the royal scientist?”

Sans grinned.  “sure.  it’s eighty-four.”

Toriel frowned.  “Just eighty-four?  Eight-four?”

“yup.  that’s the number of episodes in her favorite tv show.”

Toriel grinned and chuckled.  “And how, exactly, do you know that?”

Sans leaned on the throne’s armrest and shrugged.  “what can i say?  i know everyone.”

Toriel smiled as she entered the two digits into her contact list.  To know everyone.  Was there any more noble goal?  Perhaps, if she was able to serve as queen, the day would come when she would be able to claim the same.

[++++++++++++]

Chapter Text

Scene 13: On Truthfulness
or
“Wrong Enemy !?”

ENTRY NUMBER 1
*  Okay!  I’ve been assigned the task of finding a way to detect residual souls, if there are any, in a given location.
* In particular, we’re looking for human souls.  They’re known to persist after death.
* Besides which, finding monster souls wouldn’t do much good, since we need the strength of human souls to break the barrier.  Then again, maybe if I did somehow find persistent monster souls, it would be another happy accident?
* I don’t know if I can stand another happy accident.
* Trying not to think about who assigned me this task and how weird it is to be working on something for a person I’ve decided to betray.
* But that’s science for you!

Alphys finished up writing at the upstairs desk and returned to her brainstorming session downstairs at the computer.  She found it loosened up her mind to keep moving like this.  In a way, the early part of any new project was the easiest, since it just involved reading, brainstorming, and connecting up ideas.  But it was also the part when it was most important to keep moving, or she could easily get stuck.

The title theme from Ningyo no jōnetsu started to play, and Alphys jerked and sped over to her phone in a panic.  It was probably Undyne.  She looked at the screen.

Caller: TORIEL.

Alphys swallowed and stared at her phone.

Sequences of events that could result from answering or not answering the phone raced through her mind.  This kind of dilemma was one she hated: the kind where she had limited time to decide.  Um, um!  Maybe she should leave it be, and then choose to call back later if she decided it was right to talk?  She could always say she’d been busy working.

In the time it took her to reason this far, the phone stopped ringing.  Alphys felt a crumb of relief and ten pounds of doubt.  She stared, wondering whether she should call back.  What would she say to Toriel?  Work on the soul detector is still in the brainstorming phase, but I’m still optimistic—haha!

The music began to play again.  Caller: TORIEL.  Alphys’s skin began to crawl.

She picked up the phone.  She moved her finger to the TALK button.  She took a shallow breath.  Her claw pushed down.

“H-hello?”

“Hello!”  Toriel’s voice on the other end seemed delightfully surprised to have gotten through.  “Am I speaking to Dr. Alphys?”

Of course she was—she’d called this same number before, hadn’t she?  “That’s me!  It’s g-good to hear from you, your majesty.”

“Is it?  I am glad to hear that.”

“Y-yes, well… I mean—”

“Doctor, I confess that I feel somewhat awkward discussing this over the phone.  Yet I believe we have some important matters to discuss.  Would you be willing to meet again in person?”

It was the same dilemma as before, only sharper and more sudden.  Alphys was very uneasy with the idea of an in-person meeting; she preferred the distance of the phone.  “Um…”

“After all, it is only an elevator ride away, is it not?”

“It… it is.”  Not for the first time, Alphys wished she hadn’t installed direct access to the castle.  Gaster had preferred to keep his distance—more and more, she was coming to understand why.

“Then it is not too undue a burden?”

There were things she could say.  She had an experiment running and needed to attend to it.  She was in the zone, theory-wise, and didn’t want to arrest her momentum.  She had to attend to her patients—which was true, fairly soon.  But then, why she had answered the phone?  Alphys didn’t… she didn’t like…

Well, she didn’t like lying.  “No… it’s not too terrible a burden.  I can be there in a few minutes.”

“Excellent!  In that case, I shall await you in the throne room.”

“S-sure.  See you soon, your, uh.  Majesty.”

“Yes.  We will see each other soon.”

Sigh.  Troubled sigh.  Deep sigh.  Should she call Undyne?  Undyne had come over yesterday and they’d talked a while.  Alphys had agreed to be her chief adviser, even to be ‘co-queens,’ as Undyne had put it, in all but name.  She’d told Undyne that Mettaton was on board and would be using his show to sway the hearts of the populace.  They’d started to make plans for how things would change, but Alphys hadn’t been able to really get excited about it.  She couldn’t tell Undyne about the amalgamates.  She couldn’t tell her about the videotape.  She hated keeping secrets from Undyne, a pure woman of action who deserved to know all the facts.  She was a warrior, not a creature of intrigue!  Alphys wasn’t that good at intrigue either, really, but it seemed to come to her anyway, and she was used to it by now.

Undyne was planning to march on the castle as soon as she could gather an army.  She’d asked Alphys if she could develop weapons for her.  Well, Alphys already had weapons, as it turned out.  Her predecessor, Gaster, had created them.  Alphys had found them scary and hadn’t understood his preoccupation with making them, but she’d assumed they’d been meant for the eventual war with humans once they escaped the Underground.  Now, she wasn’t so sure.

They hadn’t discussed what to do about Toriel in the meantime except for two words: “Stall her.”  And Alphys could do that.  Sometimes it felt like she’d been doing nothing else ever since that terrible day in the lab, the day some of the amalgamates called the Day of Togetherness.

She didn’t call Undyne.  She put a memo pad in her pocket and made a quick entry in her journal—”Off to visit with the queen!”  Just in case this was a trap and she never came back.  Then she took the elevator to the castle.

Things were kind of busy when she arrived.  A parade of spiders carrying a stack of papers with Toriel’s picture on them passed right in front of her.  The sound of carpentry was going on, and there was someone singing softly somewhere in the background.  As she walked the hallway, an excited little dog appeared before her, and before she could react, it jumped and licked her face!  “Whoa—whoa!  D-down—down, doggie!  Please!”

It only left her alone once she’d pet about sixty percent of its body surface.  She was actually relieved by the time she got to the throne room and found Toriel standing at a work table, accompanied by a short skeleton and a blue bunny man wearing suspenders.

“But do you think that would be nice enough?” Toriel was asking the bunny man.

“I think every part of the speech needs a nice part!  That way, the rest won’t feel so lumpy.”

Toriel nodded thoughtfully.  “That makes a surprising amount of sense.  Perhaps I should open with the material concerning—”

The skeleton suddenly turned around.  “hey guys.  we’ve got company.”

She recognized him.  He was that skeleton she’d seen on the cameras the day the human came through, the first monster to greet them.  And she remembered him from somewhere else beside.  This was Papyrus’s brother.  Which… she supposed, might make him Gaster’s other grandson?  Suddenly, she wondered how he was coping.  But Toriel, too, turned to face her, and Alphys raised a hand in greeting.  “Uh, hi, your majesty.”

Toriel smiled beatifically.  “Thank you for coming, doctor.  Will you join me in private?”

Alphys nodded.  She wondered whether the matriarch might be hiding a shiv or something, ready to stab her once they were out of sight, but couldn’t bring herself to consider it for more than a couple seconds.  “Hi there,” she said to the skeleton.  “I—I think we might have met once or twice, a while ago.”

The skeleton’s grin was unsettlingly constant, as was the way he stuck his hands in his pockets.  “yeah.  i sold you a hot cat once.  you thought it was spicy.”

Oh!  That seemed… really vaguely familiar?  “I don’t really remember that, but… I knew your brother.”

The white pupils in the skeleton’s eyes shrank.  “yeah.”

Alphys hunched forward, feeling small.  “I’m sorry.”

He leaned just a little, if it wasn’t her imagination.  “yeah?”

“Um… y-yes.”  Did he think she meant she was taking the blame?  That wasn’t what she meant!  Would it even make sense to blame her?  She’d had no idea the human was dangerous until they’d fought Papyrus—was she supposed to have rushed out and told the guard the moment they’d shown up on her cameras?  She swallowed—maybe that was what a responsible citizen would have done.

“And I… I’m not sure, but I think I might have… worked for your grandfather?”

The tiny pupils disappeared altogether.  “yeah,” repeated the skeleton, not breaking his empty stare.

Before things could develop between them, Toriel took Alphys’s hand in her own giant one—it felt strangely comforting—and led her out the door.  They started down a stone staircase.  “As you can see, we are busy preparing for an upcoming royal address!  I am planning to speak the morning after tomorrow to the population as a whole.”

Alphys did her best to keep up with the boss monster’s formidable stride.  “That must be exciting!”

“It is very exciting!  I have not made a speech in so many years, I have nearly forgotten how to do it.  But it is coming back to me, piece by piece!”

Alphys imagined standing up in public, in front of thousands of monsters, and making a speech.  It almost gave her vertigo—she was glad Toriel had her hand.  “I could never make a speech… I’d be mortified.  I think you’re v-very brave.”

Toriel smiled down at her.  “It is really not much different from speaking to a single person, except that they do not respond immediately and you must carry on the conversation by yourself.”

Alphys smiled nervously.  “I d-don’t think I’d like talking to ten thousand people one-on-one much, either.”

The reached the bottom of the staircase and started along a familiar gray hallway.

“I have to admit, I am a bit uneasy,” said Toriel.  “It does not bother me speaking to a crowd.  It is just that… I am afraid that this crowd may not be a friendly one.”

“Oh?  Wh-why would that be?”

Toriel was silent a while.  She led Alphys into the room she’d been afraid they were headed for—the room with all the coffins, in the basement.  Seven of them, all in a line, all with names on the front.  She swallowed.

“I hope you do not mind talking with me in here,” said Toriel.  “It is very quiet and peaceful, and the castle is noisy at present.”

Alphys gulped.  “It’s fine.”

Toriel released her hand.  “I have been coming here to think, now and then.  I have thought often about this room, over the years I was away.  Do you know what is inside of the boxes?”

Alphys wanted to whimper.  “…Remains?”

“That is correct.  The remains of the six human children are kept here.  Unlike ourselves, humans do not turn to dust when they die.  They are slowly reclaimed by the environment—but I am probably telling you what you already know.”

“Y-y-yes.  I’ve… been here before.”

“Oh.  I see!  Well then, you are aware that by keeping these children in boxes and wrappings, my husband did not allow the environment to reclaim them.  He wanted them to remain as they were… as if they were still alive.”

Where was she going with this?  “I guess he wanted to remember them.”

“Yes.”  She stood still and regarded the row of boxes.  “I have come to suspect that he regarded this room as a penance.  It is not meant to honor the departed children whose souls he claimed.  It was meant to punish him.  To force him to remember what he had done, and never to wash it away.”

Alphys had no words.

“But now he is washed away,” said the queen.

“I’m sorry,” said Alphys.  This time, she meant it deeply.

Toriel turned to her after a while.  “Oh the phone, doctor, and again upstairs, you called me ‘Your majesty.’”

Had she?  “Oh, uh… yes?”

The boss monster ventured a tiny smile.  “Does that mean that you are now convinced I am in fact who I claim to be?”

Alphys trembled.  Well, if she was going for betrayal, she might as well go all in.  “As a matter of fact, um… yes!  After I thought about it a while, I realized that you must be Asgore’s wife, because I… I remember him talking about how much she loved puns.  He told me a couple, the way he s-said you would.  And at dinner, I remembered you making that pun about umami, and…”  She felt herself blushing.

“And now you realize that I am truthful,” said Toriel.

Alphys did.  She really, really did.  It made her feel like she was melting away at the edges, to be in the presence of someone so truthful, and herself so false.  “Yes.”

“Tell me, doctor.  Are you aware of what has transpired between me and Undyne?”

She swallowed.  She fidgeted.  “Yes… she… told me about it.”

“I have dismissed her from the guard.  She has promised to overthrow me.  I do not know what fate she intends for me.”

“Pr-probably exile?”  Undyne had implied as much to Alphys, in passing.

“Perhaps.  Or perhaps death.”  She looked impassively at the row of coffins, perfectly straight in her purple robe, in stark contrast to Alphys’s hunched posture and wrinkled lab coat.

“Death?  N-no, I don’t… I don’t think…”

“To someone like her… I believe that someone like me is something to be gotten rid of.  I do not think she will be content until she has gotten rid of me entirely.”

It was hard to breathe.  “No!  I-I-I’m pretty sure she doesn’t want to kill you.  To her, you’re just an impostor.  It’s not like… it’s not like you killed anyone.”  Not like she let happen.  Oh, god.  Did Alphys deserve to be put to death?  She hadn’t thought of it that way before, but did… did she deserve to be executed?  Was that was she was trying to escape?

“You put such store in her instincts,” said Toriel, turning to look down at her.  “And yet, you now admit that they were wrong about me?”

Alphys forced herself to make eye contact.  “Y-yes.  Undyne was wrong.  And I was wrong to trust her.”

Toriel smiled shyly.  “Does that mean that you are ready to tell me the secret of state you could not tell me before?”

Alphys’s jaw closed.  She shook her head.  “I’m sorry.”

“If you are convinced I am the real queen, why are you still unable to tell me your secret?”

“I… I’m sorry, your majesty.  I just can’t.”

Sadness.  In those eyes.  It was like claws raking across Alphys’s back.  “In that case, I shall not ask again.”

Swallow.  Breathe.  “All right.  Thank—thank you for your understanding, your majesty.”

“It is all right.  The families of your patients will simply have to be patient a bit longer.  That is not why I invited you here, in any case.”

“N-no?”  The soul detector, then?

“Doctor.  Please be honest with me.”

Alphys wanted to be able to.  She direly wanted it.  “Yes?”

“When we met before and shared a meal… did you feel that I… overstepped the bounds of propriety in the course of asking you questions?  In short, do you feel that I was… nosy?  I would not want to be an overly nosy monarch.”

How was she supposed to answer a question like that?  “Um… no… no, your majesty.  You were only asking what you had to ask.  Trying to, erm—get to know me.”

The great floppy ears flipped happily in place.  “Yes!  That is how I saw it.  I was getting to know you, and coming to understand the state of your projects.  There is nothing unreasonable in that, is there?”

“No, ma’am.”

“And when I confronted you about the letters I had received, I was only pursuing the interests of my citizens, who wanted to know the state of their loved ones.  That is not unreasonable, is it?”

Of course it wasn’t.  Of course it wasn’t.  “No, ma’am!”

“Then I was not nosy?  I only ask because of something curious that Undyne said to me during our confrontation yesterday.”

“Oh?  Wh-what was that?”

Toriel took a deep breath.  “She said that if I had not been so nosy about things, perhaps we could have been friends, and not enemies.  I am only wondering where I stepped astray.”

Alphys held back the urge to cry.  “I… I think she was just upset about Asgore.  And Papyrus too, but especially Asgore… she feels like no one can replace him.”

“And she feels, no doubt, that I let him down.”  She stared at the first coffin, the one nearest to the door.  “Which I did,” she admitted, her voice breaking for the first time.  “He let me down quite badly… but I turned around and returned the favor.  At that time when he most needed me… I left him.”

“They, uh… they say that two wrongs don’t make a right,” contributed Alphys, who immediately felt like the biggest hypocrite ever.  Neither do three wrongs, Alphys, or four, or five…

“Indeed.  And now I understand what that means.”

“I’m sure the kingdom will forgive you,” said Alphys.  “If you can just… convince them of who you are.”

“If you would testify on my behalf, Doctor, it would be a great boon.”

Oh no.  What had she gotten herself into?  “Um… well, like I said, I don’t really go in much for public speaking…”

“But you could write a letter, could you not?  To be read to the public, attesting that you believe I am the genuine queen?”

Crud.  “Um… I guess I could, yes?”

“Will you have it ready by the morning after next?  I would like to read it before my address, in order to allay any doubts.  As you are well known throughout the kingdom, I expect it will change a lot of hearts.”

Would it really?  “I… yes, I’ll have your letter ready,” Alphys promised.  No, you won’t.  You’re going to help overthrow this woman, not back her up.  You pathetic sludge.

“Thank you so much, doctor.”  Toriel stooped and knelt, putting their eyes much nearer the same level.  “This means so much to me.  I had feared you, too, had turned against me.”

Alphys couldn’t help twitching.  “Oh, no… Undyne may be my friend, but… I know she’s wrong about this…”

“And you are a woman of principle.  I respect that a great deal.”

That’s my line, Alphys wanted to say.  “Th-thanks.  Is, uh… is that all you wanted?”

The queen sighed.  “Well, not exactly.  You see, Doctor, I was hoping that you could shed some light on the mystery before me.  If it was not you to whom I was nosy, then who was it?  What exactly was Undyne referring to when she accused me of nosiness?”

It was me.  It was totally me.  “I—I wish I knew!”

“You are certain that she was not defending your honor?  I could tell that I had upset you, Doctor, when you left our dinner, and I felt terrible about it.  And moreover, I am informed that you and the former captain are quite close.”

Not as close as I’d like us to be, Alphys didn’t say.  “I—no, she wouldn’t do that for me.  What you have to understand, your majesty, is… Undyne is all about justice.  She wants right to prevail and wrong to… well, not prevail.  If she’s moving against you, it’s only because she really, truly thinks you’re a fraud.”  She shut her mouth and wondered how much of what she’d just said was true.

Toriel thought it over.  She leaned forward—oh no, not another kiss!—and nuzzled Alphys’s nose, very gently, once left and once right.  Then she stood up.  Alphys was left with a sense of magic coolness on her nose.

“In that case, I must simply do my best to make my case to the people.  I wish I understood what Undyne meant, but…”  She shrugged.  “If you are unable to help, I have no notion who could.  Thank you very much, doctor, for understanding… and for promising to write a letter of attestation.”

“You’re welcome?”

Toriel set her hands on the coffin nearest the door and closed her eyes.  Alphys snuck a look at the human names on the coffins: Ziggy, Emma, Biff, Celine…  She remembered them from when Asgore had brought her here, years before.  Then she remembered the children from the tapes and felt sadness mingling with helplessness in her gut.

“Let me walk you out,” said Toriel, offering her hand.

Alphys took it gratefully.

They ascended the gray staircase and passed by the bustling throne room.  Toriel stooped to pet the excited dog when it came yipping up to her.

As they reached the elevator, Alphys felt her emotions welling up, and she decided that she would let at least one of them out.  “Queen Toriel?”

“Yes, Alphys?”  The monarch’s voice was soft and earnest.

“I just, um.  I wanted you to know.  Your husband… he loved you to the end.  He never stopped loving you.  He didn’t, um, talk about you a lot, but… there were times I was around him, and he would stop and, um, stand in one place.. and, well… I knew he was thinking about you.”

The queen listened, her eyes growing wide.  Then she shuddered and knelt, hugging Alphys lightly but deeply, her head on her shoulder.  Alphys was overwhelmed by the presence of the body all around her.  Sweet smelling and milky and strong… and terrifying.  She entirely forgot to hug back.

Toriel rose to her feet again before uttering a word.  “Thank you, doctor,” she whispered.  Then she pushed the button for the elevator.  “For my part, I only wish I had been as true.”

Alphys forced her jaw to work, because she was about to say something stupid again.  “Well… e-everyone makes mistakes.”

The soft maroon eyes peered at her.  “I suppose that is true!” the queen replied.

And that was the last thing she said before the elevator doors closed between them.

ENTRY NUMBER 3
* Back from my meeting with the queen.  It went okay.  She didn’t even ask about the project… which I guess is a good thing?
* I know she had a human child, a long time ago, that she thought of as her own.  I mean, I think she thought of all the children as her own, but one more than any of the others?
* I wonder if that human’s soul is still floating around, somewhere.  I know it’s been almost a thousand years, but… is there a limit for how long human souls can last?  Maybe they never disappear.
* If so, the surface world must be filling up with souls.  How long before it runs out of room?
* Maybe souls exist in a different place than everything else does.  Maybe space works differently there.  Maybe space isn’t a thing there at all.
* …Gaster?  If you’re reading this… I miss you.

[*************]

Chapter Text

Scene 14: An Underground Divided
or
“Anticipation”

ENTRY NUMBER 4
* I did a quick review of the literature on the differences between monster and human souls. Just as I thought—there are a number of observed differences, but nothing that can’t be ascribed to DETERMINATION.
* CAPS LOCK KEY IS ST
* Okay, there we go. So, it’s quite possible that determination is the only difference between our souls and theirs.
* That leaves me with two options—try to detect disembodied DT, or build a machine that can detect souls in general.
* In the interest of science, both options are probably worth pursuing!

It was a busy day at Grillby’s, and the punk hamster was having a bad day. It wasn’t just full of monsters, he explained condescendingly. It was also full of tension.

“I don’t see the problem,” said the nervous rabbit man. “Don’t punks like tension?”

“Not more than the next guy. Not unless everything’s been overrun with fakistry and needs a shake-up.”

“…And this isn’t that kind of tension?”

“It’s counterculture tension. I’m afraid we’re gonna lose our character.’

The rabbit’s nose twitched. “But… don’t punks like counterculture?”

“Not if your culture’s great to begin with! Wake up, bunnyman! You’ve been living the high life.”

Before the rabbit could answer, there was a shout across the room: “…Hey lady! The jukebox don’t work!”

At the jukebox, the local newspaper editor paused, a gold piece in her hand. “It doesn’t? Shouldn’t there be a sign?”

The disembodied rabbit’s head on the table hopped in excitement. “Nope, ‘cause I’m always here to t-t-t-tell folks! Besides, you want music? We’ve got lots of singers here!”

“Yeah, except we’re all crap at it!” put in the duck at the bar.

There was general laughter, leaving the big-headed librarian frustrated.

“I heard,” said the carnivorous plant, “that if Undyne becomes queen, she’s going to FIX our jukebox!”

With the political floodgates open, a wave of moans and commentary filled the bar. “Here we go,” sighed the punk hamster.

“Undyne’s NEVER gonna be queen!” someone shouted.

“That look in your eye… you’re a person who doesn’t recognize true greatness, aren’t you? Who’s going to stand in her way?”

“At least she’s trying to win the people over! Ruling with music is a mite better than ruling with fear.”

“Ruling with… What exactly do you think she’s doing? She’s trying to stage a coup against the true queen! She’s just using the whole ‘impostor’ thing as an excuse!”

“Thaaaaaat’s politics!”

The giant dog in armor stood up to quiet the room and restore order: “({(O)(O)(O)})”

“You tell ‘em, big guy!” barked Doggo.

“Say, where do you stand on this, Doggo?” asked the fish drinking saltinis at the bar.

“You kidding? Undyne’s my captain! I’m not moving an inch from my position, and if anyone else tries to move, they’d better watch out, ‘cause I’ll see it happening!”

“What about you, Grillbz?”

The bartender stood erect. “.:.;,::.”

“He says he intends to just keep running the place, no matter who’s in charge at the capital,” the duck translated.

“Yeah, I kn-kn-knew he wouldn’t pick sides! Grillby’s a real d-d-d-diplomat.”

“That look in his eye… he’s someone who can’t afford to lose customers, can he?”

“Well,” said the newspaper editor, having gotten more than she bargained for with her attempt to get the jukebox working. “I guess for once there should be plenty of material for the newspaper.”

“Good thing, too, said the word search designer, “since we’ve lost one of our biggest puzzle contributors.”

The innkeeper raised her glass. “Things just won’t be the same around here without him.”

“Or stumbling into his puzzles everywhere you step,” said the muffled mouse.

“Hear, hear!” roared the carnivorous plant. “To Papyrus!”

“To Papyrus!” toasted the patrons of the bar. Grillby lifted his tumbler.

ENTRY NUMBER 5
* Traditionally, souls are known to contain three components: Love, Hope and Compassion. But normally, the only thing that can ‘detect’ a soul is a body! In that, if a body doesn’t have a soul, it falls to dust.
* Some metaphysicists think that the body has its own cohesion mechanisms, and the body goes to dust when they fail, thus releasing the soul, which then falls to dust in turn.
* I don’t think that makes sense, though. If that were true, then what is the soul for? And isn’t it an odd coincidence, then, that the soul disintegrates just like the body does? Does it have its own ‘cohesion mechanism’?
* I think it’s much more likely that the body and soul depend on each other and need each other, like so many interdependent systems do. And if they get separated, everything falls apart.
* I think most of us feel that way sometimes.

“Feeble. Feeble. FEEBLE!”

Ferdiblook stormed through the pathetic little house, rummaging through drawers and tossing their contents on the floor. They tried, futilely, to open the fridge, only to pass through it. Then, with a scowl, they floated inside and raided it for ghost sandwiches. Five minutes later, ghost sandwich wrappers littered the floor next to cable splitters, album liner notes and headphones of various shapes and sizes.

Such was the state of things when Napstablook floated in. The two ghosts froze and stared at each other for one supremely awkward moment.

“ohhhhhh…”

“Cousin!! What is the meaning of this?! I come visiting to pay my best regards, and I find you away? What happened to familial respect? What happened to LOYALTY?”

“ohhh… hi, ferdi. it’s good to see you. i guess i didn’t know you were coming… you’ve been away for months..”

“Coming? Of course I was coming! You’re my family, aren’t you? And I know how lonely you’ve been ever since our ungrateful, disloyal, brown-nosing star-chasing vainglorious cousin moved out! Someone had to come and keep you company!"

“well… i guess that makes sense… only that was years ago. and you moved out before he did. and i’ve been alone ever since…”

“Details. Details. DETAILS! I’m back now! I went to visit our other cousin in the ruins… they’re a wreck! A veritable wreck!” The loud ghost waggled broadly in anger. “You think Shyren is shy? Eustablook could win MEDALS in shy! They’ve given up talking to ANYONE, EVER! And I didn’t want you, my beloved cousin, to suffer the same fate, what with a rampaging human rampaging around!”

“that’s so considerate… except the human’s been gone for over a week… and they didn’t really do much rampaging… actually, they hung out here and played thundersnail with me…”

Ferdiblook’s eyebrows bent sharply. “WHAAT!?” They rocked aggressively, knocking about the contents of the fridge with their base. “Napster, have you gone INSANE? That human is a MURDERER! And they’re very rude , too! The things they say!”

“i dunno… they didn’t really say much to me… but we talked about music a little, and we did some lying down… so there’s that…”

“You’ve gone soft! SOFT! I want an apology!”

The straighter ghost sagged. “i’m sorry. i guess i didn’t know what i was doing…”

“That’s more like it. That human tried to kill me! It hit me so many times I couldn’t bear to stay in that dummy! It took my body from me! It took my dreams!”

“…i was thinking of asking what happened to your body, but then i thought, no, i don’t have to, they’ll probably tell me if they feel comfortable talking about it…”

“Well, I still want a body. But I’m through with training dummies. THROUGH! For some reason, when you’re a dummy, people just want to… hit you! Plus, you can’t call anyone dummies without sounding hypocritical! HYPOCRITICAL!”

“…yeah… that does sound like a problem. i saw you fighting the human but i guess i didn’t recognize you from a distance… sorry about my tears turning to acid… they do that sometimes…”

The visitor glared. “Pitiful!!”

“…oh, but, hey… my friend toriel is the queen of the underground now. maybe she can find you a body, if she’s not too busy… and she hasn’t decided she doesn’t like me anymore… or forgotten me now that’s she’s made it big…”

“The queen? THE QUEEN? I heard Loren talking about a revolution against the queen! For my four cents, that sounds a lot more fun!”

“oh… well, i guess if you’d rather revolt than get a new body… that’s ok then. i kind of hope she stays queen, though. she’s kind of…. you know, cool….”

“Cool?! Cool is just halfway to dead!”” Ferdiblook surged through the wall and back through another wall. “This place is a mess! You should really clean up when company is coming!”

Napstablook looked at the pile of stuff on the floor. “oh… yeah, sorry… i’ll take care of that.”

“Well, I’m going! Look me up when you’ve got a body for me… until then, I’ll be living the high life!” Ferdiblook rocked their way higher and higher, toward the ceiling.

“well, like i said… i think toriel could hook you up with a body… but if that’s no good, then i guess i can’t help… sorry…”

“Cousin, you have to be a lot more careful who you make friends with! A human who hits innocent dummies? A queen about to be overthrown? USELESS!”

“i guess you’re right… i’ll just stay here and not make any more friends… just to be on the safe side. except I promised toriel i’d be there for her speech tomorrow… so i guess that’s not a great start…’

“Speeches? Promises? Friends? What happened to family loyalty? You’re a hypocrite, just like the rest of them!”

“i know… i’m so hypocritical. i’m sorry…”

Ferdiblook rose through the ceiling, rocking violently. “No, what you are is pathetic. Pathetic. PATHETIC!”

Napstablook hovered in silence for a quarter hour or so after their cousin left, just to make sure they were really gone. Then, having calmed down, they got out a no-calorie soda from the fridge, slipped on a pair of headphones, and put on a spooktune. Maybe they’d just unwind a little and forget.

ENTRY NUMBER 6
* Gave some thought to how determination (DT) can be detected. There are tests to see how much DT a monster has, but they all depend on behavior. How can you detect DT if it’s not in a body?
* I still have some determination left over from the human souls. I told myself I’d never use it for anything, but… well, I make a lot of promises to myself I never keep.
* I can set out a small dish with a coating of liquid DT, then apply the standard diagnostics: radiation, scent, light emission, LOVE.
* The problem is, DT tends to hold together very cohesively. If it never disperses, then what is there to detect?
* It’s possible DT only interacts with living creatures. Maybe if I… lie down with my face next to it and take a nap?
* No. I may be mostly worthless, but my health is still worth something. I’ll try something else.

“Woah there! I’ve got some neat junk for sale,” said the shopkeeper.

“hOI! im temmie!” said his customer.

He peered over his counter at the little visitor. “What have we here? Buying supplies for your village?

“yayA. temmie ned FFOOBS! an sheltars!”

The tortoise cleared his throat. “Eh? Well, as I’ve told your friends, or relatives, as the case may be… I DON”T SELL TEM FLAKES.” He coughed a bit.

The Temmie flipped upside-down and vibrated a few inches off the ground. “no tEM flAKES?? travestie!!!”

“Waha. It’s no good being overdramatic—can’t change what I’ve got in stock!”

The animal waved its legs. “but gotz Tem Shelterrz? Six or 100 of?? need proteck from ELMENTS!”

“You do realize you live in an underground cave, don’tcha?”

“BBUT!” The Temmie flipped rightside-up and shook wildly, knocking clods of dirt loose from the ceiling. “buT essenschuls of LIFES!”

“Essentials? How about clothing? I’ve got some old rags over here that might fit you!” The shopkeep rummaged around in his storage area and came up with a worn red barding cloth, embroidered with the Delta Rune. “Whatdya think of THIS, huh?”

The Temmie stretched out an endless leg for the garment. It flickered for a second, then instantly reappeared wearing the garment over its back, its tail through a little hole. “OMGZSD! Tem so… Fancsie!!” A blissful (yet still shaking) smile dominated its features.

“You do look a tad gussied up!” admitted the shopkeeper. “That’ll be 34G!”

The Tem was stunned. “34G??!? But… tem only haz 32G!!”

The shopkeep looked suspicious, but nodded. “All right then… 32G it is.”

The Temmie handed over a broken key and a mothball with fake moth wings attached to it. “thiiis… shoudd c0verr!!”

Gerson frowned at the worthless items. “What do you take me for, Tem? This isn’t gold! Can you pay for your backcloth or not?”

The cat-dog made a disgusted face. The words “can’t blame a BARK for tryin’” appeared in glowing italics on its coat.

“Right. If you’re not here for business, get out!” said the tortoise, shaking his fist.

“NOO! Musckles… are NOT QYOUT!” exclaimed the Temmie, flashing in and out of existence in random directions.

“Ooh, I have to disagree,” said Aaron, peeking smugly through the cave door.

“FHGJSFHSL!!” yelled the Temmie, shaking its way out.

“HEY! Give back that merchandise!” yelled the tortoise. Aaron casually reached up and pinched the corner of the barding, which dropped to the floor, seemingly unnoticed by the Temmie.

“She’ll come back for it,” he promised, winking. “She’s just playing… tough.”

“Right,” said Gerson, scooping the broken key into his inventory—the winged mothball flew away when he tried to scoop it, too. “Well, it’d be nice to get rid of some of these old clothes. Don’t suppose you need a wardrobe update, Aaron?"

He shook his head smugly. “Clothes? Why would I put clothes… on this?” He flexed indulgently while Gerson watched with impatience.

“Got it. Need anything else, then?”

“Not really,” said Aaron, winking lasciviously.

“In that case, you can… oh, I just remembered. I reckon you’re just looking for company, aren’t you, what with Woshua gone. How’re you hanging together?”

Tears fell with strange regularity from Aaron’s eyes, even while he maintained his smug smile. “Oh, I’m doing fine. Hanging with Moldbygg… but it’s not the same.” Another meaningful wink.

“…Hard for a fella to know what you mean by that, what with you winking all the time,” said Gerson, clearing away the barding cloth.

“Just missing Woshua. He was my best childhood friend,” said the seahorse with another wink.

“Right. I’m sure we’re all gonna miss that one. Just watch—the place’ll be crusted with dirt in no time, and it’ll turn out he was keeping it clean single-handed! Wha-ha-ha.”

“I think of him when I watch the waterfall,” winked Aaron smugly.

Gerson sighed. “Humans are hell,” he said. “But you just wait! Undyne’s taking over what with Asgore gone, and she’ll find a way to take down that barrier, you’ll see!”

Aaron turned in puzzlement, arms crossed. “Undyne? What about the queen?”

Gerson paused in surprise. “…The queen?”

“Queen Toriel,” winked Aaron. “She came back to rule.”

The tortoise planted his weight heavily on his counter. “Toriel? Back? Bwa—are you kidding me, Aaron?!”

Aaron smirked. “Nope! She’s in her palace now.” A wink.

“When did… how long has she been there?”

“Probably a week,” winked the seahorse. “If Undyne wants to take over, they should have a flexing contest.”

Gerson leaned there stunned for a moment, then grabbed his knapsack and tore out from behind his counter. “Contest, nothing! Undyne… she lied to me! Can’t believe it—Undyne straight up lied.”

“Do you even lift, bro?” asked Aaron, as if to explain why Undyne might not have shown respect.

“I’ll lift something, you just watch!” Gerson stormed out into the blue caverns of Waterfall. “Have a sea tea, Aaron—it’s on me! And lock the place up for me, will ya?”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll lock everything up real tight,” winked Aaron.

Gerson just cackled without looking back. “Just think of it! Toriel, back! Wa ha ha, it’s been way too long! Just like the old days!”

Aaron slurped his sea tea alone with a smirk and mourned.

 ENTRY NUMBER 7
* So, I figured… since the amalgamates already have unusual amounts of DT, maybe they could detect more? Probably couldn’t do much more damage than I’ve already done, right?
* In order to be an ethical experimenter, though, I… asked for volunteers? Arachnamate volunteered, so I set them up with a petri dish of DT and a breathing mask.
* Nothing at first, but after an hour… the DT suddenly coalesced and… slipped up through the mask in tube form! Arachnamate breathed it all in.
* It wasn’t a big sample, but now Arachnamate seems even more determined to go home. On the plus side, this seems to mean that DT in a body attracts other DT! Could DT in a disembodied soul behave the same way?
* Have to work out if the strength of attraction is proportional to the amount someone has to begin with. If so, this could wind up working as a DT level reader, even if I can’t use it to find lost souls!

Darkness, interrupted by noise. Knock knock.

Toriel felt her heart flutter, then calm. “Who is there?” she called, knowing the answer perfectly well.

“jerry,” said the voice beneath the wooden trapdoor.

She considered for a moment, but not too long. “Jerry who?”

“jerry don’t have any old pictures from before you left?” asked Sans, seamlessly continuing the conversation they’d been having before. “a locket… a family portrait… anything?” His loosely hooded head poked up into the little attic room. Toriel sat up, somewhat embarrassed; she had been napping on the graystone floor.

“None,” she replied. “I was not a vain queen, and Asgore was not a vain king. We did not have a portrait painted, nor any sculptures made of us. We did keep a family photo album after our son was born, and I was hoping to find it up here, but it has been a very long time, and I fear it has been lost.”

The skeleton rose easily through the trapdoor, almost as if he didn’t need the ladder. “that’s too bad. what about videotapes?”

Toriel thought back. “We did like to play around with our camera from time to time, but I have not found any tapes, either. I have searched the room rather thoroughly.”

“so hard you got tuckered out, huh?”

Toriel gave Sans a vulnerable look. “The speech I give tomorrow morning will determine not just my future, but the future of all monsterkind. I confess that I am rather nervous!”

“can’t blame you,” said Sans, picking up a random item. “say. is this a power bracelet?”

Toriel took the item and tapped it against a shelf. “That is an old, crusty croissant. Sans, may I ask you a question?”

He put his hands in his pockets. “shoot.”

“How do you remain so calm? It is as if nothing ruffles you.” But she feared, even as she asked, that she knew the answer.

The briefest flash of blue touched his eye. “guess i’ve just got perspective. plus, the light of my life just went out. you can’t get much more ruffled than that.”

It was as she had feared. Toriel examined Sans sympathetically. “Your brother was the light of your life?”

“yup. so now it’s all dark from here on in.”

“Dark? Oh, Sans. May I hug you?”

He hesitated a moment before edging forward. “sure. go nuts.”

Toriel did not go nuts. She was tender and calm, retaining her wits as she embraced her joke-telling companion. “Sans, I hope that there can be light again in your life someday. I dearly do.” The dimness of the room added to the moment’s poignancy, for better or worse.

It was a moment before he spoke. “well. if there is, you’ll probably be a part of it.”

This sentiment honored Toriel. “I hope I can remain a part of your life, whatever happens tomorrow.”

“i wouldn’t turn ya down. a good pie is hard to come by.”

She chuckled and released him. “I am glad you enjoy my baking.”

“maybe once this sovereignty thing gets settled, you can bake a giant pie for the whole kingdom. or maybe, like, 1000000 smaller pies. just to celebrate being on the right track.”

That idea was worth more than a moment’s consideration, silly though it might seem. “We will see,” she allowed. “Sans, has there been any correspondence? I am expecting a letter from the royal scientist.”

“you got a few more ‘welcome back’ letters. a couple bills for stuff asgore bought. a note from the frogs in the ruins. nothing from alphys, though.”

Toriel sighed. “I wonder whether she will come through. I was disappointed to learn that Mettaton has turned against me. It has been hard getting supplies without going through the resort.”

“don’t worry. i’m sure the people will believe you when you tell them who you are. it kind of… shines through.”

This tickled Toriel in a warm way. “Do you really think so?”

Sans held up an old, framed mirror. “see for yourself.”

Toriel peered at herself. Despite everything, it was still her. “Perhaps you are right,” she allowed.

ENTRY NUMBER 8
* I decided to switch to an even smaller sample of DT, just to be safe. I needed more test subjects than just the amalgamates, so I went and asked Tsundereplane if I could test them. They accused me of trying to get close to them or something but eventually I appealed to their pride…
* And then there was this old guy with a block, who said I could test him if I solved his puzzle. But I had to solve it the right way! Big headache but I finished it!
* Eventually I got enough data points for a conclusive result: Yes, the proportions check out! The more DT you have, the faster you draw it in from a dish!
* I ran the figures on all the amalgamates and made a chart. It was about what I expected. Snowdrake’s mom scored the lowest, Flipwhip was the highest. Arachnamate was a close second.
* I’m building a control sluice and dial around one of my DT samples so I can make a proper DT meter out of it! Determinometer? Determeter? Determiner? Gotta work on the name.
* I’m, uh… I’m afraid to test myself. Don’t know why, though. I know I don’t have any determination. Still, for some reason I’m kind of scared to see a big fat zero when I try it. It’s… nice to be able to fool myself, I guess?

Colored lights swirled over a broad stretch of Hotland’s walkway system. Plumes of magma erupted far below, spectators sat cheering from a nearby bleacher, a trio of podiums sat side by side on a glitzy stage, and “It’s Showtime” blared over the speakers.

Mettaton, in silhouette, was framed by a flare of light. He struck a pose. Cheers. Another pose. Cheers. He lifted a vuvazela to his mouth, adding dramatically to his silhouette, and blew. Big cheers. As the light faded, he strode to center stage. “Fans and admirers, I give you—me! It’s time for my new hit show… “Who Wants to Be a Monarch?”

A large sign bearing the title lowered over the stage, with upside-downs ‘M’ filling in for the ‘W’s. The host thrust out a leg and posed saucily until the fourth wave of cheering died down.

“Let’s get down to business, shall we? Those among you, my beloved viewers, who choose to keep abreast of goings-on here in the Kingdom of Monsters, will be aware that there is currently a bit of a… power vacuum in the royal castle! Yes, our wonderfully fluffy and pokable king is no more. Ah, poor Asgore—he served for so long, and came so painfully close to getting us out of here! A moment of silence, please, for our departed sovereign.”

There were still deep bass drums rumbling in the distance, of course. Absolute silence would never do on the air. But they were respectful drums.

Mettaton lifted his head with an excited, coy smile. “May his essence live on in us all. And especially in his beautiful garden, where his dust was scattered. But now, it’s time to decide who will be the next monarch of the Underground! Please join me in welcoming our frontrunner… rapscallion of Waterfall, power cook extraordinaire, and esteemed captain of the Royal Guard—Undyne!”

Enthusiastic applause from the bleacher was supplemented by a canned track. Undyne posed on a walkway one level up, turning her spear in different angles to cast various shadows. Then she leapt dramatically down, landing in center stage to a standing ovation. “NGAHHHH!"

“Welcome, Undyne! Now, before we get started, let’s address the hard facts surrounding this competition. The castle is not actually empty, is it?”

Undyne scowled happily… somehow. “Nope! It’s got a faker in it, pretending to be Asgore’s wife! But she wants to spoil the Underground and tear everything apart! We’re not going to let that happen, are we?”

“No!” shouted some members of the audience. Others jeered, or whistled, or just cheered generically.

“Friends,” said Mettaton, “we reached out to this so-called Toriel who’s taken up residence in the castle. We invited her onto our program to have a fair competition! We even offered to hold a baking round—something she supposedly excels at! But did she agree to show up?”

“No!” shouted the crowd, reading from a giant cue card.

“And did she give a reason?!” asked Mettaton.

“Sort of! She said that the royalty is not a competition and that she’s the true ruler and other unsporting malarky like that,” read the audience in a jumble.

“…Right! And for that reason, we had to drop her from the running. So sad!” More mixed cheers and jeers. “But! Since Undyne was good enough to appear, please allow me to ask her: Undyne, why do you believe you would be a good leader of monsterkind?”

Undyne faced the audience. “Because I know what we want!’

“And that is?” asked Mettaton.

“Freedom!” shouted the fish lady, grin turned upward. “We crave the freedom of the surface! Winds, and skies, and moons and suns! In short, we want what the humans have… and we’re willing to take it!”

“Now,” said Mettaton once the cheers died down, “some would say that to attack the humans would be uncivilized. After all, this generation of humans did nothing to us. What do you say to that?”

“Well, first I say, PRAWN POCKEY! They did do something to us! They sent a murderer down to torment us—a murderer who killed our king, and who killed a very special friend of mine—and who also stole the souls we’d taken centuries to gather, so that now we need to start over from scratch! That’s what they’ve done to us! And if you’re naive enough to think humankind is good and gentle, aside from this one random barbarian? Think again! If they’d somehow turned good over the years, wouldn’t they have opened up the barrier? Wouldn’t they at least have sent down an ambassador to peek in and say, ‘Hey, how ya doin’?’ They aren’t good people. They hate us! They want to forget about us forever! If they could, they would wipe us out entirely… and that’s why we’ve got to do the same to them! NO MERCY!” She slammed a row of spears down into the stage, each one searing the air with blue energy.

“A very powerful argument!” assessed Mettaton. “And, if you do become queen, how exactly do you intend to destroy the barrier?”

Undyne seized a spear and raised it in triumph, yelling: “WE’LL THINK OF SOMETHING!” Huge cheers, intermixed with a few questioning cadences.

“But in all earnestness,” she continued, “my good friend Alphys is working on that as we speak. She’s an AMAZING scientist and a terrific person, and I’m CONFIDENT that with her guidance, we’ll find a way through. Heck, I’m so confident in her, I’m making her my chief adviser!”

The cheers now were quieter, more subdued. Some of this crowd knew Alphys, and some of them knew monsters waiting anxiously for their fallen down relatives—or at least their dust—to be returned.

“And once we have the barrier destroyed,” went on Mettaton, “and humanity has been conquered… what do you intend to do with them? Surely you don’t intend to kill every single human being in the world.”

Undyne looked conflicted, but nodded to Mettaton. “Why, of course not!” she said in a sickly sweet voice. “We’ll make them into a slave audience for your show!”

Mettaton grinned, and now the audience went wild. “Now that’s more like it! Just think of the fun we’ll have.” He strode to a button on the wall. “And speaking of fun! Undyne, are you ready to meet your fellow contestants?”

Undyne turned, confused. “Wait, what? There are other contestants?”

“Well, of course, darling! You don’t think you’re the only one who wants to run the Underground, do you?”

Her ears folded inward. “This wasn’t in the script.”

“It never is, darling! Have you seen my show?” He pushed the button. “He’s a performer-model from the mysterious reaches of the tundra… let’s give a great big MTT welcome to our second contestant, GLYDE!”

A new burst of theme music played as a splash of water washed over the stage, wetting the feet of those in the first row. A giant whale-like monster, snazzily curved and grinning, glided out from behind a wall. Huge jack-shaped bullets flew from his body and lodged themselves into various parts of the set—one stuck in the sign. “Glad to be here, Metty!”

“No one calls me that!” said Mettaton cheerfully. “Our third contestant hails from… well, who knows where? He’s big, he’s bashful, he lives up to his name—please welcome… SO SORRY!”

Another wall rose, and a decidedly nervous kangaroo dragon stood wringing his hands. “Um… I don’t think I’m supposed to be here…”

“Talk into the mic, please, darling! Now, if the three contestants wouldn’t mind taking their places at the podiums…”

Undyne slinked charily to the middle podium. Glyde slid to the left, nearly knocking his podium over, while So Sorry hesitantly approached the right.

“Now then—Glyde!” called Mettaton. “Same question for you—why would you be an amazingly fantabulous ruler of the Underground?”

He grinned, his teeth so white that some audience members quailed. “I’m built to be a ruler! I already rule! I rule the seas, I rule the tundra… I rule the school of cool!” He snapped his fins together over his body, making a luscious snapping sound reminiscent of fireworks.

“So I see! And you, So Sorry?”

The crowd fell silent to hear the anxiously smiling monster. “Erm… this is the audition to be featured in a solo hanging, isn’t it? That’s what the crew told me? I’ve never had my own gallery show… and it would be an awful lot of fun… I think I have things to say…”

“Captivating, darling!” Mettaton clapped for the contestant, then cut it off just as quickly. “Next question! As ruler of the Underground, what will your policy be on… being covered head to toe in peanut butter?”

So Sorry ventured a hesitant answer. “Well, if it’s part of a performance installment… and if it serves the artist’s message…” But when the first drop touched his ear, he looked up toward the catwalks—from which copious amounts of soft peanut butter were dripping down—and started thrashing his tail about. “AHHHHH!”

Glyde flumped himself closer to the stream. ‘I’m lovin’ it! Not so crazy about the whole ‘toe’ thing, but head to tail is peachy by me!”

Undyne made a powerful leap to escape the vicinity of her podium, only for a huge glob of peanut butter to fall there, instead of where she’d been standing. “THIS IS HORRIBLE,” she accused.

“Diversity of opinion!” cried Mettaton. “Beautiful! The cornerstone of any monarchy!”

So Sorry was desperately trying to wipe himself clean, even while more peanut butter poured. “This… this isn’t really a gallery audition, is it? I was trying to ignore the way you kept talking about leading the Underground, but I’m starting to feel like, even if I take the most generous interpretation… I’ve been lied to! I… I haven’t been lied to, have I?”

Glyde flipped over onto his back. “All right! Anyone in the audience who wants to rub this stuff on my belly, come on down!”

“Pardon me, sweet cheeks,” said Mettaton. “You don’t get to say ‘Come on down.’ Only I get to say ‘Come on down!’”

Glyde flopped his tail gracefully, catapulting peanut butter everywhere. “Come. On. Down!”

“Well, that’s it, darling! You’ve forced me to take desperate measures! Pour the molasses!”

“Molasses? Aww, you shouldn’t have!” crooned the giant monster, before a huge influx of molasses, jelly, MTT Brand Bishie Cream and, yes, even more peanut butter came down and entirely covered his mouth, rendering him speechless.

“I. NEED. WATER,” groused Undyne, futilely trying to suplex the peanut butter covering her.

“Great idea, darling!” said Mettaton, pushing a button. A large segment of floor before the podiums slid back, revealing a colorful grid. “This classic puzzle is sure to winnow out the true rulers from the chaff! Now, I assume you all know the rules…”

“WHAT THE HELL IS THIS,” growled Undyne.

“You don’t? Very well then, listen closely, and please don’t make me repeat myself. The red tiles are impassible. Orange tiles are passable, but make you smell like oranges, which of course the piranhas in the blue tiles are quite fond of! Now, the purple til—oh dear, darling, you did hear me mention the piranhas, didn’t you?”

Undyne had already dived into the nearest blue water tile, ignoring the rules. She came up thrashing. “Get them off me!!”

“I suppose they are rather fond of peanut butter too, aren’t they? Don’t worry, I’m sure they like it more than they like armor or scales. Glyde! If you’re still able to move, would you mind going first?”

The huge form flopped massively, shaking and splattering the stage, but showed no signs of being able to escape the morass of sweet food spreads engulfing him.

“No? Well then, Sorry dear, you’re up!”

So Sorry stood nervously at the edge of the puzzle, tapping his fingers together. “S… sorry… I’m not actually very good at being eaten by piranhas…”

“Oh, don’t worry, everyone is new to it in the beginning,” encouraged Mettaton. “It’s a skill you pick up.”

“Right.” The bulky monster stepped onto a purple tile and found himself sliding. “Whoops! Oh no! Oh no!” He turned to the left. “AAHHHH! Electricity!!”

Undyne had managed to climb out of the water, and was nearly peanut-butter free. “Okay, I admit, this puzzle may be somewhat fun. To watch other people fail at.”

So Sorry recoiled back across the pink tile to a green one. A klaxon sounded.

“What was that?” he cried, loudly bouncing back on tiptoes.

“Aha! If you step on a green tile, you have to fight a monster!”

“Fight? Monster? Maybe I didn’t explain this very well, but I’m not actually—aheh—much of a fighter…”

Mettaton turned to the audience. “Any volunteers?”

Undyne poked him from behind. “I volunteer!” she said, grinning widely.

“Oh dear,” said So Sorry.

“Ohh, yes,” crooned Mettaton. The audience was on its feet, laughing and cheering.

ENTRY NUMBER 9
* Oh my God.
* I have determination.
* Not just a little, either. I scored higher than Tsunderplane! 0.048 HDUs—Human Determination Units. That’s just above Endogeny and below Swirl. My level is… really high for someone who wasn’t injected. It’s a little bit scary, really.
* I don’t know how I never saw the signs of DT in myself. Now I’m seeing them everywhere! I tremble. I stutter. I get so emotional sometimes… I feel like an idiot I didn’t realize this about myself before.
* What does this mean?
* WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?

[*=*==*=*++*==*]

Chapter Text

 Scene 15: Nighttime Thoughts
or
“Alphys”

Alphys had DETERMINATION.

She’d probably had it for her whole life, and never known it. Oh, it wasn’t like a human level of determination. Humans were determination engines. But it wasn’t nothing, either! Twenty-one Alphyses would make one human, plus or minus the margin of error.

Did that mean she had one twenty-first of one seventh of what it would take to bring down the barrier?

She had more than some of the Amalgamates. Injecting them had overwhelmed the magical cohesion of their bodies and compromised their shapes, but Alphys’s shape was stable. No matter how much she sometimes wanted to lose weight. Her theory was that each monster was naturally constituted to possess determination within a certain range, and while that range differed for each monster, exceeding it with an injection would break them down. If Alphys had had the guts to inject herself with DT, she’d probably be part of an Amalgamate right now.

She wondered how her level of DT compared to Undyne’s. Undyne must have more than her. Undyne might have as much as 0.2 HDUs. Alphys wished she could call her up and invite her in, but… well, timingwise, this was pretty much the worst possible night for that.

Really, she’d been stalling all day long. Tomorrow, there was a good chance her world would turn upside-down, and actually working on her assigned project had been her way of putting off having to come to grips with it. She’d done the second-hardest thing on her list in order to keep from doing the first. Gaster’s take on procrastination had been right again.

Well, presumably there would be plenty of time to use the determinometer on Undyne when they were the two most powerful people in the Underground. Presumably. Unless she was being hopelessly naive again.

In a way, it was strange Alphys wasn’t more excited. She’d started out as a book shelver in the Hotland Library, then moved up to being a switchboard operator in the Core, then an electrical engineer. The day Gaster had hired her as Assistant Royal Scientist had been the most exciting of her life—and then actually making Royal Scientist after Gaster’s accident had been almost as amazing. Now she was going to be Royal Adviser. Who would ever have thought that a nerdy little book shelver would eventually become the second-most powerful monster in the world?

Well, maybe if someone had tested her determination as a kid, they would’ve… had a hint?

Or not. Alphys didn’t really know if determination led to power, or even ambition. One reason she’d always assumed she didn’t have any was that she didn’t have any desire for power. She wasn’t a leader. She didn’t think she’d be a very good royal adviser, either. Alphys was at home in the lab—she wasn’t a creature of politics by any stretch.

Really, of all the things she might want to do, being Royal Scientist topped the list. Alphys had every reason to be happy where she was. If she couldn’t be happy here, where could she?

Or was that the curse of determination—even when you’re doing your dream job, the job you were made for… you still can’t ever be content?

She rode her down escalator for the tenth time. Actually spending the day working had been really good—a really welcome change of pace. But now it was night, and she was back to pacing.

Maybe Undyne would let her stay in the lab, even as royal adviser. At the very least, she’d be able to duck back in now and then. Or maybe she’d end up screwing up the adviser post, and Undyne would hire someone else—Mettaton, maybe?—and she could go back to being royal scientist. Maybe if she just asked nicely, she wouldn’t have to change posts at all?

But then, there was the question of when Undyne would find out about the amalgamates. And how she would react.

Alphys rode her up escalator for the eleventh time.

Maybe she should just tell her about them? But when? In the morning, before the revolution? But what if it made Undyne change her mind about Alphys? Or what if it distracted her? There could be a battle tomorrow. What if there was a battle? If Undyne was distracted, it could cost her everything.

Alphys got onto her moving sidewalk. Why had she put this off so long? Why hadn’t she bitten the bullet and told Asgore what had gone wrong? It wasn’t like she could hide it forever, was it? Did she really still think she could find a way to separate the melted monsters, to make them go back to the way they were? There was no way to do that. They were mixed thoroughly, and Alphys couldn’t so much as get an egg back together after breaking it, let alone find a way to reassemble something so complex as a person. No, the amalgamates were never going to be what they were. But they were alive… and their families would have to find out eventually.

Down the escalator for the eleventh time.

Then again, Undyne might lose the battle tomorrow. She could die. Then Alphys would be back to worrying about Toriel finding out… and for all Toriel’s kindness, she somehow seemed less forgiving than Undyne. Well, really, it wasn’t that hard to understand. Undyne was Alphys’s best friend. Toriel was… a creature of truthfulness. A creature of towering integrity. She would never abide Alphys hiding the truth.

She recalled their dinner and what Toriel had said… “Believe me, Dr. Alphys, I feel much the same way. My duty impels me to serve as queen, but I find I do not know what to do! I have almost no one to advise me, and trust does not come quickly. The captain of my guard does not even believe that I truly am the queen…”

Alphys grabbed her lizard cup and took a swig of soda. Had Queen Toriel found people to trust her? Maybe. But there was no one that knew her… maybe everyone around her was just serving the office, not the person? And had she found anyone to advise her? That skeleton… Gaster’s grandson… seemed to be there for her, but he’d lost his brother; was he in any shape to give advice? For all Alphys knew, Toriel still felt as helpless as she had that evening. Probably more so, really. She had to know what was waiting for her in the morning.

Undyne was wrong about the queen. Alphys knew that. For once, her instincts had been right, and Undyne’s had been wrong. But maybe that wasn’t so hard to believe, now that she knew she had determination of her own? Then again, determination probably didn’t have anything to do with intuition. No, Undyne was probably just rationalizing. She’d admitted it to Alphys—she didn’t want Toriel to be the real queen.

Even if Alphys played the tapes for her, Undyne would probably still launch her revolution.

Up the escalator for the twelfth time.

And what if Undyne was killed, but so was Toriel? That could happen in a battle. Alphys could barely bring herself to imagine an outcome so bad, but her juices were working at full. Who would the monsters turn to then? Mettaton? Yeah, she could just imagine that. Government as game show. Leadership presented as entertainment. Does this proclamation make sense, your majesty? Well, darlings, I don’t know. Will it make the fans happy?

And if Mettaton, too, should somehow fall in battle?

Oh God. Would they make Alphys be queen?

She slumped to her knees, but managed to crawl onto her moving sidewalk anyway. No point in imagining the worst. Monsters were not humans. Sure, they could get worked up now and then, but they’d never had an all-out war. That was something humans did, with their over-the-top reservoirs of determination. Monsters were essentially peaceful. They wouldn’t really kill each other tomorrow… right?

But the dread remained. Even if nobody died… the truth would still be hidden. One way or another… Alphys would still have her secrets to grapple with, and she might well be out of time. The Underground would know what she had done. She was a creature with 0.048 HDUs, and she had tampered with souls, and tampered with determination… and she had created abominations. That was their true name. Not amalgamates. Abominates.

She reached the end of the sidewalk and gazed longingly at her bed. But she couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t sleep.

There was one way out, she thought, as she rode her escalator down for the twelfth time.

You couldn’t really call it suicide, could you? Not when the nature of the abyss was unknown. Not when the pit was presumed bottomless. Who knew what was down there? The waterfall plunged into it—maybe there was a huge freshwater lake, miles below? Maybe there was a bed of flowers, golden or otherwise, ready to whisk anyone brave enough to land on them into an exciting adventure! After all, for all the humans knew, jumping into Mount Ebott would kill you… yet now and then a child would jump, and that child would survive and have the adventure of a lifetime… until they were killed and their soul was harvested, that was. But the jump didn’t kill them! The world of the monsters was there, waiting for them. Who was to say there wasn’t another world hidden beneath the monsters, just as the monsters were hidden beneath the humans?

Maybe it was the world of anime.

Or maybe it really was death. Cold, hard, jagged, painful death. Death laced through with hope, yes, but. If Alphys was being honest, she had to put it at at least ninety percent. And even on the off chance it wasn’t suicide, it was cowardly. There was no question about that. And yes, true, Alphys was a coward, but… well, she was a coward with friends. Who happened to be working her dream job. And who had, apparently, as much determination as one twenty-first of a human. What was that by weight? A human arm? Alphys was as determined as a human arm, and that had to make her valuable, didn’t it?

Somehow, she didn’t think value worked that way. What was she really worth? Tomorrow, if all went well, she’d be a royal adviser who didn’t know how to advise. Tonight, she was a scientist who didn’t tell the truth. Either way, worthless. Wasn’t that what it boiled down to? Alphys had dedicated her life to science… the pursuit of truth in the workings of the world. Science didn’t work if you didn’t tell people what you discovered. If you didn’t spread the word, subject yourself to peer review, give others a chance to figure out what you missed… Science wasn’t the progress of twenty thousand separate monsters on their own personal knowledge quests. That was mad science. Or, put another way, that was the confusing, lonely journey of life—born into a world with no instructions, forced to figure out which ideas to listen to and which to disregard. But science was different. Science was an edifice. Built slowly, yes, and blocks would occasionally crumble from the top, but the foundation was firm, and all monsters could dwell within it. Maybe all humans too, someday. There was no reason monster science and human science should be different. They were enemies, yes, but in the end, science was universal. At least, that was the ideal.

But if scientists kept the truth to themselves… then everyone was just struggling to build their own narrow house and keep it from toppling over or sinking into the swamp. And if Alphys was capable of building a stronger house than others? …That just meant she was smart. It didn’t make her a scientist.

But, dammit, she was a scientist, wasn’t she? If she wasn’t that, then…

…then she was just a dorky fangirl.

You can’t be a scientist who doesn’t tell the truth.

She threw her head back. I know!

You can’t be a scientist who doesn’t tell the truth.

Shut up! I know, I know!

You can’t be a scientist who doesn’t tell—

Alphys stood still. She knew this feeling. It was terrible. Her life had reached a turning point. She was at the crux of two emotional tracks, teetering, and she could only go down one of them. She could either stop thinking of herself as a scientist, now and forever, or—

Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!

She took the elevator down to the hidden lab. She marched straight to the TV room, ignoring the amalgamates. She grabbed some paper and a pen and wrote furiously before she could change her mind.

“Dear Queen Toriel,

I’m so sorry about everything. These five tapes belong to you. If you want to avoid heartache, you may want to skip number 4. These should prove your identity. I’m enclosing a VCR in case you don’t own one. I would include a machine I built that mechanically compares voices, but people would know you got it from me, and I’m a coward. I’m sorry I’m too much a coward to write that letter you wanted me to write, but this should be enough.

I’m not saying I hope you win tomorrow. Undyne is my best friend, and I love her. I just… want the truth to come out. May the best woman win. I’m so sorry.

Your royal scientist, Alphys

P.S. Anime isn’t real. I know this doesn’t concern you, but I just had to get it off my chest. Thanks.”

She took the elevator up to the castle, dropped the box just outside the door, and fled back home.

On her final trip up and down the escalators, Alphys finally realized why she had helped the human child. She hadn’t wanted Asgore to die. She hadn’t. She had wanted Asgore to win, deep down. Which meant that, yes, deep down, she had wanted the human to die.

It was just that… she wanted everyone to have a fair chance, because… fairness was like truth. May the best fighter win. She’d wanted Asgore to defeat the human, not just because she’d loved him, but because it would have meant freedom for all monsters. And now she wanted Undyne to win tomorrow… not just because she loved her, but because it would mean her own personal security.

But more important than any of that, more important than her job, or than Undyne’s affection, more important even than freedom for monsterkind… was that the playing field had to be level. Because if it wasn’t level, then things weren’t fair. And if victory was won without fairness…

…well, then no one really learned anything, did they?

Alphys went to sleep. Things were less certain than ever, but she slept more deeply than she had for weeks.

[***************]

Chapter Text

 Scene 16: The Speech Is Given
or
“Fischentrückung”

It was important to Toriel that she personally prepare pancakes in the castle kitchen that morning.

She was tempted by the waffle iron. She hadn’t owned one in the Ruins, and hadn’t had waffles in ages. But the iron restricted one to a particular shape, and as such lacked personality. Waffles were a luxury she could enjoy if all went well and the populace accepted her as queen. She could have waffles every day for a week, if she so desired! But today it would be pancakes, for each cake would be imbued with her love. And those who had chosen to help her must know that she valued them dearly.

Along with Toriel, Muffet and her spiders had risen with the dawn. For most monsters, dawn was an artificial thing, imposed by tradition and by the use of whatever artificial lighting was available in their neighborhood; in some parts of the Underground, there was no such thing as night and day. But Toriel had chosen to spend the night not in her old bedroom, but in the throne room, with its ceiling open to the sun. She was thankful that the age-old barrier did not keep out sunlight. She had awakened slowly as the light rose, and so in a way, she felt that she owned the day.

The spiders had built a cable system in the kitchen and were using it to pass Toriel batter from the giant bowl she’d mixed. She spooned it carefully onto the griddle, keeping it clean and greased in the meantime while flipping each cake at the perfect moment. Clad in a red floral muumuu, Toriel was making much more than enough pancakes for those in her castle. She would feed her people, if they would let her.

Some cakes were given sprinklings of coconut, cinnamon, cocoa powder or butterscotch chips. They were each sorted neatly into labeled stacks that gradually spread to fill an entire kitchen table. That was fine—there were plenty of tables to go.

“Have I told you how much I admire your artistry?” cooed Muffet, supervising from a web slung from the ceiling.

Toriel looked up and smiled heartily. “I appreciate your saying so! I am giving it my best."

“There’s an art to mass feeding, or mass anything, really, that people don’t appreciate,” said the spider queen. “When you have oodles of subjects, or oodles of children, it’s simply impossible to treat them all as individuals! But you can’t treat them all the same, either, can you?”

“I should hope not!” said Toriel, opening a bag of chocolate chips. She was going to make some double chocolate pancakes. They weren’t to her taste, but she knew that some monsters considered chocolate indulgent, and she wanted to appeal to that.

“Well, then what do you do? It’s a dance, sweetcakes. The art of serving everyone in a way that makes them feel special. I feel like that’s a song you have already in your heart, and that’s why you don’t need me to teach you how to be a queen!”

Toriel’s ears rose slightly. “Well, I have had experience! It was simply a long time ago. Even so, please believe me when I say that I am very glad to have you on my side!”

“Well of course, dearie! Who wouldn’t want the spiders on their side?” Muffet then spotted some spiders having trouble with their load of syrup and swung speedily over to help. “Hup! Careful with that flagon!”

Dogamy and Dogaressa traipsed up, presenting empty plates in formation and panting excitedly. Toriel favored each with a big smile and a tall stack. “Butter?”

“Please!”

“Would you two do me a favor? Could you go and bring some pancakes to Sans? I know that he likes to sleep in, but I would like to bribe him out of bed.”

The Dogi saluted with a bark and went off on their quest. Toriel fell into her rhythm. She considered the speech she was due to deliver in less than three hours—were there any more improvements she could make? Were there any other measures she could take to win the hearts of the monsters?

Despite her considerations, she felt surprisingly carefree. Optimistic, perhaps. But more essentially… Toriel felt as though she had already won. She was a happy queen doing the work she was born for, and she knew that with this excellent start to the morning, she would do her best. And how could she hope for more than her best? If she did her best today, she would be able to rest easy that evening regardless of what should happen to transpire.

“Like, your majesty!” Toriel turned to see Royal Guards 01 and 02 approaching, the latter clutching a sizable box. “We found a package for you by the elevator!”

“A package? By the elevator? How queer!” Oh! Could it be from Alphys? It would make sense for her to deliver her letter directly, rather than risk it getting mislaid in the mail. But why a package?

The guards laid it on a table and proffered a letter opener—shaped just like their swords but smaller. Toriel took it daintily and sliced open the packing tape, only to find a note on top of the contents.

She read it silently. She sniffled, and her eyes teared up. This was not what she had been hoping for, but in a sense it was better. She had wanted Alphys to be with her in this struggle. But the scientist had at least been conflicted, and it touched Toriel that even though Alphys was not on her side, she had still offered this gift.

She cleared her throat and addressed the kitchen. “Does anyone here happen to know where I might find a television set?”

There was silence. Spiders did not go in for television.

Then a small voice spoke up. “i’ve got one… it’s at home… and the picture’s lousy… and i can’t carry it… but if you want to go and get it, i guess that’s okay…”

Toriel strode over to Napstablook and kissed them intangibly. “The picture quality is not important. It is the sound quality that matters.”

“oh. well, it should probably be okay then.”

She again addressed the room. “We have less than three hours. Who here is willing to go to Waterfall and bring back a TV?”

It was no problem to spare a division of spiders for this task, as it turned out, so they skittered off behind the ghost and Toriel turned back to making pancakes. This was good news indeed! With a bit of luck, her identity would no longer be in doubt, and Undyne would have no pretext for calling her a usurper. If the monsters still chose to follow Undyne, that label would belong to her.

“hey,” said a voice from the level of her belly. She grinned and looked down.

“Good morning, Sans. Your slippers are very nice today.”

“thanks. i picked off some of the lint last night.”

“How very formal of you!”

“well, it seemed like it was a special occasion.”

Toriel flipped a pancake. “Have you looked out the window today, by any chance?”

“i might’ve taken a quick look.”

“And did you happen to see whether there is anything afoot?”

“yup. getting busy out there. i think the monsters know today’s gonna be a big day.”

This pleased Toriel to hear. If the monsters were gathering, then word of her speech had gone forth as hoped. They would be there to hear her message.

“those pancakes for me?”

Toriel looked to where he was gesturing—so far as she could tell, he was referring to the entire table. “You may have a reasonable number, Sans. But did not the captains bring you some already?”

“those? oh, those went through me like that,” he said with a snap of his fingers.

“Well, you do lack a stomach,” Toriel pointed out reasonably.

“oh yeah. guess i’ll stick with the chocolate chip ones for now, then.”

It was a merry morning. The guards informed Toriel that random monsters were knocking on the door, having smelled the goodness within, and were wondering whether they could have a bite. “By all means!” said Toriel. “Tell them to come and join us here in the kitchen. We have plenty of room!”

So the room got gradually merrier. They were joined not just by Core workers and New Home natives, but by monsters from the floes, swamps and rivers as well. Toriel even spotted an Icecap. Dogamy and Dogaressa maintained order while Sans walked up and down the aisles, passing out crosswords and Junior Jumbles. A snow dragon offered to entertain the room with his comedy stylings, and Toriel could hardly say no. To her glee, he was actually very funny; people laughed at his jokes.

The spiders returned with Napstablook’s television set and Toriel retired into the coffin room to watch it. She invited Napstablook, Muffet and Sans to join her. After grappling for twenty minutes with how to hook up the VCR, they all sat (or in the ghost’s case, lay) on the floor and watched.

Or rather, listened.

“…sorry,” said Napstablook. “i did say the picture quality wasn’t very good…”

“There’s no picture at all!” exclaimed Muffet.

“…yeah, that’s kind of what i meant.”

Toriel sat with her hands over her mouth. “I… I remember taking this! I was so excited! I knew I was going to have a child…”

“Oh?” asked Muffet in confusion. “Are you a mother, dearie? I never knew.”

Toriel sniffed. “I was.”

The version of her on the tape was eleven years younger than herself. Toriel had lived for millennia at that physical age. She had finally resumed aging at the moment of Asriel’s birth, only to halt again at the moment of his death. But she believed the voice was still recognizably hers. And certainly the populace would recognize Asgore’s resonant basso. This was the blessing she had been looking for.

“don’t suppose she said why she had the tapes in the first place?” inquired Sans.

“She did not,” said Toriel. “And to be frank, I do not give two figs. She returned them, and that is what matters.”

They listened to the next two tapes in near silence. Toriel set the fourth one aside. “The doctor warned me that if I wish to avoid heartache, I should skip this one. I am inclined to trust her.”

“whatever you say, tori.”

She laughed. “Did you just call me ‘Tori’?”

“sorry, toriel.”

“Oh, Sans. You may call me Tori if it pleases you! It makes me feel somewhat younger, that is all.”

“I imagine that’s a rather good feeling,” said Muffet.

“Well, after all, a new queen means a new beginning,” Toriel posited.

The voice was even more clearly hers on the fifth tape, since she had not aged physically since then. She did not cry at the sound of her child dying. She did wonder what the reference to ‘needing six’ was, but chose not to worry about it. For some reason, Ziggy’s voice had not come through on the tapes—perhaps it was designed not to record human voices? But it stirred her heart proudly to hear Asriel again. She stood up and walked from the coffin room back to the kitchen. She remembered holding him and hugging him. She remembered teaching him to dress himself, to plant flowers, to draw. She remembered her sweet, sweet son from so long ago and felt young indeed!

Sans and Muffet followed her back. Napstablook, who had said nothing at all during the tapes, remained prostrate on the floor. Toriel knew them well enough not to disturb them in that state. They would be all right.

The breakfast was drawing to a close. At last, now that everyone else had eaten, Toriel allowed herself to eat four pancakes—two regular, one cinnamon, and one butterscotch. She washed them down with milk. The roomful of monsters cheered.

She rose to her feet. “It is time for me to address my public,” she declared.

Muffet helped her change from her muumuu into her customary lavender robe. She wore just one adornment—a golden bracer whose links took the shape of golden flowers. She had decided to wear no crown, as her purpose today was not to glorify herself. She rejoined her entourage and took a moment to steady herself.

“well, here goes nothing, huh?” said Sans.

“I should hope that it is not nothing,” said Toriel, “or this will all have been a waste!”

“in that case, here goes something, i guess.”

“That is more like it. Wish me luck!”

“break a leg.”

Toriel frowned. “Is that your idea of a good luck wish?”

“He means it nicely, dear,” said Muffet. “It’s a spider saying—we have legs to spare! Now, get a move on!”

Toriel went up three sets of stairs and approached the balcony. Numerous monsters who had eaten breakfast with her chose to follow; the guards ensured her safety, although none of them seemed at all hostile. She emerged into the open air and saw the glory of New Home all around her, with Hotland beyond it, a corner of the Core visible to one side, the resort grounds off to the other, and the first reaches of Waterfall’s blue just visible in the distance.

The monsters had come. It shocked her to see them assembled there, filling the squares and streets of New Home and the parks of the MTT resort. They were awaiting her, and as soon as she stepped out, there was an eruption of noisemaking. It was like the sound of a waterfall, fierce and legion and blended. She imagined that they were cheering for her—stamping their feet, clapping their hands, slapping the ground with their bodies—but a tingle told her that some of the noise was meant to disparage her as well. She looked to each side and saw tall banners that her people had put in place—”WELCOME BACK QUEEN TORIEL!” and “SUPPORT THE QUEEN”. The castle was decorated in creepers with purple flowers. Her guards wound out in two lines from the castle door, with Dogaressa and Dogamy at their ends. In the distance, the riverperson delivered another batch of Looxes and Migosps. The crowd was swelling, and it was time for her to speak.

The guards raised their guitars and played a few contemplative bars, switching from minor to major mode. Dogaressa and Dogamy banged their halberds three times on the ground and lifted their heads to howl in unison: “Presenting Her Royal Majesty Toriel, Queen of the Kingdom of Monsters!”

There was more nondescript noise. Toriel stepped to the edge of the balcony. Her whole body was visible through the barred rail, down to her bare feet. She looked over the assemblage with pride that seamlessly transitioned to humility. They were so much, put all together like this. They were such an amazing force—monsterkind. They must have a destiny greater than what they were living. There was simply no other way to feel at a moment like this.

Toriel rested her hands on the railing and began to speak.

“Hello! My fellow monsters, I hope that today feels as wonderful for you as it does for me. The weather is generally warm so close to Hotland, but today I actually feel a breeze! Perhaps I am only imagining it, however. It is possible that it is only a symbolic breeze. As you may be aware, breezes are capable of carrying away that which is dead, and allowing for new life to begin. Now, I am not trying to be morbid, but I think that this may be one of those times in our history. We are at the end of one phase of our existence and at the beginning of another. So I am glad that there is a refreshing breeze this morning.”

Toriel was afraid that this introduction might be seen as cheesy, so she scanned the crowd. The expressions of the huge-eyed monsters were easiest to make out, and they, at least, seemed to be inspired by what she was saying.

“Now, I am aware that not all of you know who I am. My name is Toriel, and in the days when we were first beset by humanity, I helped us to organize in resistance, and then, when resistance proved untenable, to relocate ourselves under the ground. Some of you may know me as Toriel Dreemurr, but I have discontinued use of that surname. I was married to King Asgore for well over half of my life.

“In the beginning, I helped us to find a sense of purpose and hope in those early years. I helped organize the monsters by type so that each had useful tasks to work on, and together with my husband, I oversaw the construction of the city known as Home. Under our leadership, the monsters discovered safe sources of food and water, found ways to light and heat our underground environment, and learned methods of construction that would not trigger the destructive forces of the earth.”

They were silent now, listening seriously. Toriel’s eye scanned the crowd. Aside from her guards, there was no one she recognized—everyone else known to her was behind her, watching from the door. Unless—did that strangely ill-balanced head belong to Shyren? She had never seen her pen pal, but Shyren had drawn a self-portrait once…

“Believe me when I tell you that I have been through hard times. I did not believe at first that the humans could adopt an ideology so cruel. They had always admired us for the remarkable qualities that we possessed, and the wise among them also cherished us for our fragility. But the wise did not win out among humankind. The human race allowed itself to be ruled by that part of itself which was violent, vengeful, jealous, and cruel. They decided to slaughter us because we could not be controlled as their leaders sought to control us. They feared what they knew we could become by absorbing their souls, even though no monster had any desire to do so. Because the humans could not shoot fire from their fingertips, because they could not fly through the air or tunnel through the earth or shape things through magic, they decided to destroy us, because there were those among us who could. They came to consider nothing more important than ensuring that no one could do anything they could not do. So their admiration turned to jealousy, and their friendship turned to violence. And because they would not relent, violence turned to war.

“Is there anyone here who envies the humans?” Toriel paused to solicit an answer. “Is there anyone who will admit that they envy what humanity made itself in that age?”

A number of voices piped up. “I envy them the surface!” “Sure, I envy them!” “They’ve seen enough!’

Toriel waved her hand. “Then you value having over being. For it is true that they claimed the surface of the world as their own. But in doing so, they became something less than what they were.” She paused for effect while the crowd murmured. “And as such, I say: We should not envy them. If anything, humanity deserves our pity. But more importantly—we must not become them!”

The crowd reacted to this, but not with the enthusiasm Toriel had been hoping for. And then, even while more monsters streamed into the edges of the crowd, her roving eye fell upon a speck of yellow near the castle. She gasped: it was Alphys, the scientist. Toriel was encouraged. Seeing Alphys gazing up at her with hope… it… it filled her with…

“Do you understand what I mean?” continued Toriel, now improvising. “We must ensure that the wise and temperate among us do prevail. The last thing we must do is to succumb to destructive urges. That is what the humans did, and we must not fall to their fate!”

Most of the crowd was awed, but a plaid-faced heckler yelled, “They seem to be doing pretty well for themselves!” He was met with a few cheers.

“When one gives in to violence, one becomes foul within,” countered Toriel. “I have taught my children that, and I tell it to you. For that reason, I am announcing today that the Kingdom of Monsters is discontinuing its policy of butchering stray humans who fall down the mountain’s core. King Asgore embraced this policy, just as he embraced a hot-blooded, savage passion for war against the humans, and the idea of exterminating them in time. THIS, FRIENDS, IS WRONG.” Toriel could not remember the last time she had raised her voice so loudly, but she did not regret it. “There is no goodness in genocide! There is no goodness in the act of taking apart an innocent person—and until proven guilty, they are innocent—and in using their very SOUL as an ingredient in a dark ritual! Please note—I am not saying that we will never destroy the barrier. Someday, I am confident we will find a way to do so. I have already set a possible route in motion. But we will not destroy it through bloodshed, and we will not destroy it through injustice!!”

She banged her fist on the railing. The crowd shouted. Now Toriel could hear the individual cries: “You said it, Queenie!” “Hear hear!” “Then how the hell are we gonna break it?” “They deserve it!” And one that repeated, over and over: “She’s not the true queen! She’s noooot the truuue—”

Toriel scowled, her hand in a fist. “Allow me, before I proceed, to address a concern I am aware of.” The crowd settled somewhat, but not all the way. Dogaressa blew a shrill dog whistle and re-established order; good dog. “I know that some among you are not convinced that I truly am who I say I am. You know that there was a queen long ago called Toriel, but you believe that she is dead, and that I am merely an opportunistic boss monster who has chosen to impersonate her. Allow me to prove myself. I have spent nearly a millennium in the ruins of the city called Home, which I helped to build. As you may know, these ruins were locked off long ago, but I alone retained a key. I dwelt there in the home my husband and I built together, with small things such as frogs and spiders as my companions. Are you wondering why I left? I left because my husband, once a sensible and loving man, became a bloodthirsty butcher without conscience upon the death of our son at human hands. It is said that in the worst crisis the true nature of a person comes to light. Asgore became cruel and hateful. I became all the more resolved to bring an example of peace to the human race. Could he not see that they direly needed it? Yet all his thoughts were on vengeance. He and I both reacted emotionally to our son’s murder. He declared war; I chose to leave him.

“I have been living in the Ruins for all this time, receiving news of the outside through ghosts and spiders. When Asgore was finally killed by one of those humans he tried to murder, I realized that the Underground once more needed a monarch, and I returned. Do you doubt that I am Toriel, wife of Asgore Dreemurr? Listen to this recording that I made while I was carrying our son! Do you recognize my voice in it? Do you recognize Asgore’s?”

She gave the signal, and Sans clicked the television on. Its sound was amplified by microphones borrowed from the Core; everyone present could hear Queen Toriel joking with King Asgore in bed. The intimate moment came to a close. “And this, from when my adopted human child lay dying.”

There was an audible murmur from the crowd at the mention of an adopted human child, but they listened patiently to the second tape as well.

“And now,” said Toriel, “I hope that any question of my authenticity is laid to rest.”

She was not met by the silence she hoped for. A harried monster in a gray suit shouted, “That could be faked! You can magically fake voices, can’t you?”

Shouts of agreement followed from here and there. The crowd was getting riled up, and Toriel found her hopes for clarity dashed. Would this come down to who chose to believe whom, as she had feared it would? That would be little more than a contest of popularity.

“She’s the true queen!” shouted a raspy voice above the rest. “You can believe me, because I know her!” For a moment, Toriel was flabbergasted. Was that really… could it be…?

“Gerson!” she shouted joyfully, having spotted the old warrior in the crowd. “I had heard you were still alive!”

He thrust his withered neck up, leaping on the shoulders of other monsters to do it. “You’d better believe I’m still around! I’ve been playing it safe these days… don’t get out nearly enough.” He spoke to her even while shouting to the crowd. “’Cause if I’d heard you were back sooner, I’d’ve hustled on over and joined you up on that balcony, sink or swim!”

Toriel put her hand on her heart. “That means so much to me, Gerson. Undyne told me that you had denied me.”

“Deny you? Never? I just didn’t know you’d come back!”

How reassuring. “So there you are, friends!” said Toriel. “Surely you know the Hammer of Justice would not lie!”

“The Hammer of who?” called someone.

“Well, look, I may not have the reputation I did,” said Gerson, “but there’s still a lot of Waterfall folk who know me as a shopkeep! They’ll tell you I’m honest.”

The resulting tumult hardly seemed to agree. This time Dogamy blew his whistle, but the crowd refused to be fully quelled. Slowly, a chant emerged from monsters standing in the vicinity of the MTT Resort. After a time, Toriel could make it out: “The tapes are fake! The tapes are fake! The tapes are fake!”

“THEY CAN’T BE FAKE!” yelled a voice amplified by a megaphone. The whole assemblage turned to find that the loud voice was coming from an unexpected source—little Doctor Alphys. Now this was a welcome surprise!

Alphys blushed and laughed nervously into her megaphone, but went on at a more moderate tone: “Uh—what you have to understand is… they’re playing magnetic VHS tapes from hundreds and hundreds of years ago. They d-didn’t have a way to splice sounds together back then, like we do now. And if they re-recorded the sounds from the old tapes and mixed them with new v-voices, we’d hear a d-difference in the background noise levels. I, uh, investigated those tapes, and I f-f-found they were… genuine.”

The echo of her amplified voice faded. “And who exactly are you?” demanded someone.

“She’s the royal scientist!” someone else retorted. “If she says the tapes are real, they’re real!”

This was met with a rather surprising sight. In the very center of the crowd, the huge head of a large monster that seemed to be mostly mouth was suddenly flung away, revealed as a disguise, and underneath it stood Undyne—fully armed, face marked with warpaint, expression outraged. She looked left and right and prepared to yell something to the crowd… but nothing came. Undyne, apparently, had been rendered speechless.

Toriel was not about to miss this opportunity. “Thank you, Doctor,” she said warmly. “Can we agree, then, that the suspicion surrounding my identity is unwarranted? I will remind you all that Dr. Alphys worked for Asgore—I did not appoint her. Gerson of Waterfall has testified that he remembers me from the War of Monsters and Humans, and I remember him fondly too—he was one of my husband’s beloved poker pals. And if you would hear the queen of the spiders vouch for me, or the Legion of Froggits, or the owner of the Waterfall snail farm, I can produce them as well.” She paused, her hands gripping the railing. “Does anyone still doubt that I am the true queen?”

Blessed silence. Toriel was grateful.

“It may be,” she went on, “that the waters were muddied by the fact that a particular member of my staff decided to sow rumors, trust false instincts, and split the loyalty of the royal guard.” Toriel knew she had to speak quickly, or Undyne and her allies would spark a protest to defend themselves. “I say now to this person: You are forgiven. There will be no retribution for what you have done, nor for any of your allies. You will even have your post back, if you admit that you were wrong and apologize. That is all it will take.”

Silence again reigned. A lot of faces were turning toward Undyne, who still seemed too flabbergasted to speak. She did look straight at Toriel, though, with eyes wide and unbelieving.

One voice, a child’s, piped up. “But yo… when you left the kingdom… didn’t you kinda… give up your queenship? Ha ha…”

“I do not see why that would be the case,” replied Toriel. “I did not formally abdicate. I simply ceded my authority in all decisions to Asgore.”

“But darling, is that really supposed to make us trust you?” Yes, it was Mettaton, at last, lounging on the roof of his resort. The roof, of all places, surrounded by Vulkins fanning him with fronds, of all things. “When things got difficult, you gave in? You didn’t like the way your husband was ruling, so you let him rule unopposed? Toriel, dear, where is your chutzpah?”

“I did not want to fight him!” she snapped. She took a deep breath to calm herself, then went on. “Yes, I could have stayed and opposed my husband. For a while, that is what I did. We slept in separate rooms, held court in separate throne rooms, and gave orders that were contradictory. The people were confused, and I do not blame them in the slightest. It is clear that you cannot have two monarchs unless they are united in marriage. Either we would have to fight for the sole monarchy, or one of us would have to go. He was immovable. I chose to go. Do not think…” She caught herself from choking and took another breath. “Do not think that it was easy.”

Now the monsters were murmuring to each other, but none of them were shouting. Toriel tried to remember where she had been in her speech. It was looking like she was actually going to win this.

“So I have returned,” she continued. “And now Asgore is gone. Make no mistake—he was undone by his own choices. The human child who killed him only wanted to return home—I know this because I spent a day with them. I begged this child to stay with me, but their homesickness was too great—they moved on, against my warnings. As they passed through the Underground, they undoubtedly learned that if they wished to escape, they had no choice—they would have to fight Asgore, and they would have to kill him. This is the dilemma that my late husband crafted: Kill or be killed. He gambled everything on the proposition that the Underground would defeat seven humans before a single one managed to navigate it fully and kill him instead. It is almost…” She sighed. “…almost as if he wanted to die. Perhaps he did.” She paused in remembrance. “I do not know. If so, I can understand his feelings. The weight of the deaths of six children must have had some effect on his soul. I would not be surprised to learn that he wanted it all to be over… as I did.”

The assembly continued to mill. Even Mettaton seemed to be listening attentively now. Undyne still looked like she’d been whacked in the face, and Toriel would accept that.

“What you may not know,” Toriel continued, “is that each and every one of those six children passed through my house before being slaughtered.” Gasps arose, but she pressed forward. “Each of them came to know me and, at least for a time, love me. They were not perfect children. It is not the perfect children of humanity who blunder into our realm. It is the disaffected, the maladjusted, the neglected among them. I have spoken at length to my children—and yes, I considered them my children—and from them I learned about the human race. I stand before you now and I say: They are not devoid of love. They are not devoid of compassion. They are not devoid of mercy. They are people, like us, with fears and flaws and strengths. They are capable of embracing that which is different from them—given that their fears do not overwhelm their love, as they so often do. My human children loved me, and I loved them…” She brought her arms together, as if embracing a child. “…and I know that there is hope for peace between monsters and humans. How do I know it? My children told me so.”

Now there was shouting once again. Undyne raised her head, braided hair blowing in the breeze, and spoke for the first time: “There can never be peace!”

Toriel held up her hand to quell the nascent chant. “If the children of humanity, and the flawed ones at that, are willing to accept monsters as brethren, as mothers, as friends, then how can we be sure their adults cannot? They came here by accident or out of curiosity, and we killed them. We killed them.

“My daughter Emma, tragically killed gathering mushrooms for me in the Ruins when a Migosp succumbed to peer pressure. Her soul was taken for Asgore by a Whispoorwill who knocked unrelentingly on my door until I finally let it in.

“My son Biff, who swore he would break off Asgore’s horns with his bare hands, but only when I told him that Asgore would prevent his departure. Killed by a canine guard.

“My daughter Celine, who stayed with me the longest, performing plays and dances for me and my neighbors, but who finally decided the Ruins were too small for her—killed by a monster named Aaron.

“My son Horace, whose ambition was to write a complete ethnography of the Underground, despite his tender age—he would have been a friend to all monsters, but was captured by Kryken, a long-ago captain of the guard, and executed.

“My daughter Natalia, who shared my passion for cooking and taught me a thing or two—she turned hugging me into an exciting sport! Captured by royal guards in Hotland, and executed.

“My son Mickey, who came to resent his captivity and finally turned his pretend weapons against me when I would not let him leave—tricked into shooting himself by the royal scientist.

“And finally, my most recent child, who was not even with me long enough for me to learn their name or gender. I could sense both sweetness and depth in them, and I regret never getting a chance to learn more. This child had to fend off dozens of attacking monsters, including you, Undyne, and you, Mettaton, in order to…” Her voice broke. “…to squeak through and barely be the first to escape our hellish realm. Kill or be killed—that is what we have become to the people above. Do you know what humans call someone who is particularly horrible, someone utterly base and amoral? They have a word for such a person. Monster.” She let that sink in.

“No more. We have lived in Asgore’s way for nearly a thousand years. It did not work, and it has wrought foulness on our souls. As Queen of the Underground, I now decree—from this day forward, any human, child or grown, who falls into our realm… will be treated as friend, not enemy, unless they should, through their own actions and choices, give us cause to fear them.” Now, at last, the tears Toriel had managed to stave off all through her grim litany came to her eyes. “We will not lower ourselves to the level of the humans who vanquished us by harvesting souls to end the spell that binds us. We will treat the innocent as innocent! We will give humanity no more cause to hate us! And perhaps… perhaps by so doing… in time, we will once again make a friend of humanity.”

Toriel wiped her eyes and regarded the crowd. She had done her best. She really had done her very best.

Undyne stood tall in the distance. “No,” she said. Her voice was loud enough for all to hear.

Toriel waited.

“No,” Undyne repeated. “We won’t wait and let humans kill us before we stop them! What are you thinking? If an avalanche is tumbling toward you, do you wait until the first rocks hit before you tumble away?!”

“Humans are not avalanches,” said Toriel.

“No,” said Undyne. “They’re worse.”

“I have known them as my own fami—” Toriel began.

But Undyne interrupted. “An avalanche, you hear coming. You see it coming! Same for an earthquake, or any disaster. Even the most feral or most excitable monsters give you warning before they attack. So you can deal with them. So you don’t have to kill them on sight.”

Toriel’s wool felt stiff. “You certainly do not need to ki—”

“But that’s the only way you can protect yourself from humans,” Undyne pressed. “Kill them on sight! Or at least capture, no questions asked. Because if you don’t? BANG. Pow. A lifelong friend—gone. A relative—gone. No warning. No chance to get ready. You think humans are kind? You like the way they hug you? That’s the worst part. If they weren’t kind, at least we’d know to be afraid of them. But what do they do instead? Hug you, play with you, dance with you, laa-dee-dah, and then do a TOTAL 180 OUT OF NOWHERE and STAB YOU DEAD!”

She was getting the crowd riled up. Monsters around her were putting on pauldrons and picking up spears, as if joining Undyne’s army. A chant began, frighteningly stark: “ Kill them all.”

“That is not true!” Toriel yelled. “They are not so aberrant as all that. When a human is upset, there are signs! I have seen them!”

“And I’ve done my research!” Undyne yelled. “You think it was just this seventh kid who was a psychopath? They ALL killed monsters, except maybe that one you kept in the Ruins! All of them murdered, and some of them murdered a lot! I read the diaries of Kryken and the others who fought them, and they said the same thing I’m saying—no warning, no reason, no mercy! And these are their kids! You wanna deal with a fully grown human being? I dunno if the Underground would survive! They could wipe us all out—every single one of us! And with a record like that, you’re saying you want to wait until they strike the first blow?!”

Toriel could not believe her children had behaved as badly as all that. She had not heard all the details, being sequestered in the Ruins, but… had they really all killed in their effort to escape? Even Horace? Even Celine? “That cannot be,” she said helplessly.

“Oh, it’s true,” said Mettaton casually, if loudly. “I’ve read the records too.”

Undyne stepped forward for her fatal onslaught. “I guess your love didn’t do a lot of good for these headcases, huh? But history aside! That last child you took care of, Toriel, and treated so well?” She seemed to jeer at the very idea of tendering love. “They fought their way across Snowdin without raising their hand in anger once . Zero damage dealt. They were a model citizen… playing puzzles happily… playing fetch with the dogs… complimenting an Icecap on his hat, from what I hear.” She scoffed. “Seems perfectly harmless, right? I’ll tell you one guy who thought so. His name was Papyrus. ” The crowd grew louder. “He was a volunteer sentry whose dream was to join the guard someday. Wanted to capture a human and impress me! And to be honest, he was never guard material. But I loved him to death—he was funny, cheerful, and loyal as hell. Would. Not. Squash. A. Bug. You go to Snowdin Town, everyone’ll know his name, they’ll tell you the same thing. Well, he went up against the human. Got tricky, laughed his lovable laugh, used his blue attacks he was so proud of. He beat the human. He captured them! Put them in his shed for holding. But the galoot put his cage bars so far apart the human walked right out. They went right back to Papyrus, who’d proven himself harmless, fought him again, and KILLED HIM DEAD. Now the friendliest guy in Snowdin is gone and the place is out half its energy! Is that the kind of thing you want to happen, Queen Toriel? Was there some warning sign we missed?”

Toriel didn’t know what to say—Undyne had evidently investigated, and she had not. “And yet, if the monsters of Snowdin had not attacked the human, they might not have decided to turn violent!”

“Or maybe they would!” Undyne roared, leaping through the crowd and staring up at Toriel from below. “We don’t know! Humans don’t think the same way as us! We don’t know what they’ll do. Meet a human? They could be your best friend, OR they could kill you! With no clues, it’s basically a 50-50 chance! Does anyone here like those odds?”

Toriel had to admit that she did have a point. And yet… “That only means that we must take precautions with humans. It does not mean that we can suspend justice!”

“Justice? Fuhuhu! Queen Toriel, what exactly do you think justice is for, anyway? Justice is for making sure the people who deserve punishment get punished, and the ones who don’t deserve it don’t. Humans make justice impossible! They hurt people who don’t deserve it in the slightest, and once that’s done, there’s nothing you can do about it. Punish them? Take their souls? Sure, but that doesn’t even come close to really serving justice. Justice? It’s for civilized societies. Humans? NOT EVEN CLOSE.”

Toriel pounded the railing. “You are talking about this child as if they were a wanton, rampaging murderer!” she objected. “It is not as if they killed ten or more monsters!”

“NO,” said Undyne. “BUT THEY KILLED PAPYRUS.”

That seemed to be what the crowd needed to rally. The sinister chant, “Kill them all,” became louder, and more of the pauldrons and spears of Undyne’s army appeared. Toriel’s canine captains spun about and set their respective lines of guards at the ready, weapons poised, but Toriel knew they would not attack. She had been explicit in her instructions: defense only. Now Undyne’s army was pressing up against the two lines of guards, and it looked likely that violence was soon to occur.

“Monsters of the realm!” exclaimed Toriel, throwing up her hands and casting a fireball in each direction. She had not wanted to use fire during her address, but she knew no other way to get their attention.

And they looked at her, all right. Even Undyne stopped what she was doing and stared.

“If it is truly the wish of the majority that Asgore’s policy should remain in place, then I will go peacefully,” she said. But it could not be the wish of the majority, could it? “I call for a vote.”

“Wahaha!” exclaimed Gerson from the middle of the crowd. “That’s my Toriel. That’s the old girl. Have a vote for the monarchy!”

“A vote, huh?” said Undyne. She looked around as if to gauge her level of support. “Right here and now?”

“Yes,” said Toriel. “You spoke of what civilized societies do, did you not? Right here and now, we are faced with the prospect of violence and dust. A vote of those present is not a perfect solution, but it would be infinitely more civilized.” Somehow, her nerves were calm. She was worried about what would happen, but on some level she was at peace, because she had done her best and she had been heard.

Undyne looked hesitant. “I don’t know if I’m comfy with that. If I lose, it wouldn’t mean the people don’t agree with me. It might just mean they’re too scared to bite the bullet and make things change!”

Toriel scowled. “It seems like you are looking for an excuse to use force against me.”

Undyne shook her head. “I don’t need an excuse. I’ve already got plenty of reason. You may be the real queen, but you’re a human lover! ‘Cause of that, you may be the least qualified monster to lead us in the whole kingdom.”

Toriel spoke to the entire crowd, throwing her hands wide. “Those who would be afraid to cast their vote with Undyne, please be aware—there shall be no repercussion! My guard will not harm you, and I will abide by the will of the majority!”

“There ya go, kid,” laughed Gerson. “What more could you ask for? She’s being more than fair.”

Still, Undyne refused to commit. “But… but the energy blasters! I brought energy blasters! I wanted to blow a hole in the castle!”

Gerson shrugged. “Life’s tough, kid. Sometimes the fun stuff isn’t the same as the responsible stuff!”

Undyne started to growl, rage building.

“Not that I wouldn’t enjoy seeing a giant hole put through the castle,” Gerson continued. “But I sure as stars wouldn’t want to be the one they pick to patch it up again! Wha-ha-ha!”

“YOU KNOW WHAT?” said Undyne. “FORGET IT! I don’t need energy beams! For all I know, Alphys sabotaged them, anyway! I’m not gonna lose a vote and let Pappy and Asgore go unavenged!” She made a massive leap forward through the crowd. “I CAN TAKE YOU DOWN BY MYSELF!!”

Oh snailshells! For all the morning’s bluster, Toriel hadn’t been expecting a direct attack on her person. She backed away from the balcony, even as Sans rushed out to protect her. (Hadn’t he been downstairs before?) Undyne’s supporters went wild. Some of them started attacking, but the guards moved promptly and quelled them before a skirmish could start. Even so, Toriel heard the sound of dust. She winced—someone had died. Someone had died in her name, or fighting against it. She wanted to vomit. She found herself backed against the wall, having missed the door, with Sans, Muffet and a formidable line of Muffet’s spiders in front of her. Undyne jumped, somehow, all the way to the wall. Her hands grasped the edge; Sans made a motion and a magical bone smashed down against them. The armored hands disappeared. But not two breaths later, a huge, swelling cry erupted and Undyne landed directly on the balcony rail, armor and all! “NGAAAAHHHHH!!”

“Back off!” shouted Muffet as her spiders began to chitter and scamper.

Undyne thrust a spear through her before she could prepare. She rained down a deluge of tiny spears on the spiders, sending them fleeing in a panic. Muffet collapsed, wounded, in the balcony’s opposite corner.

“too good for the will of the people, huh?” said Sans, making a wall of bones emerge from the balcony under Undyne’s feet.

“Gaaah!” she shouted, struck back. “SANS! Why are you defending her?! He was YOUR BROTHER!!”

Sans stood his ground. “yeah. he was the brightest thing in my life. he always saw the good in people. and you know what?” He arrayed an ominous ring of what looked like death rays around Undyne, humming softly. “i want to keep his legacy alive. so i’m looking for the good in people.” He jabbed a thumb in Toriel’s direction. “and i found it in this one.”

Undyne stared directly at Toriel, standing tensely. Below, the crowd was in chaos. “Yeah. I know she thinks she’s good. Maybe she really is. Maybe I’m the bad guy here. But I just can’t let your brother go unavenged. You understand that? I just can’t. ”

“yeah,” said Sans. “i understand. but if i’m gonna be true to his memory, i can’t let that happen.”

Undyne worked her face painfully, the corners of her piscine mouth fluctuating with uncertainty. It looked like she was genuinely afraid of Sans’s weapons. Toriel worked her way to the door and addressed Undyne. “I understand that you are following your conscience. But if you cannot abide by the will of the people, you are not fit to be queen.”

“I KNOW I’M NOT FIT TO BE QUEEN,” roared Undyne. “I WAS GONNA MAKE ALPHY DO IT FOR ME. But now… NOW…” She looked almost defeated, inches from victory, yet caught in a net.

“now, you’re gonna turn off your magic, sit down quietly, and we’re all gonna have a little talk,” said Sans.

Undyne breathed. She hesitated. She actually started to sit.

*FOOOOOM!* The floor of the balcony exploded in a surge of raw power. Muffet shot an arm out desperately and caught herself by a gossamer filament, swinging away toward the next parapet. The rock collapsed from under the front of Toriel’s feet, and she nearly lost her balance. Sans went plunging toward the ground with a casually delivered “whoops.” And Undyne leapt from the crumbling rock, eyes wide, straight at Toriel.

Toriel shot fire. The balls struck Undyne, but she only grinned and bore them. Toriel was tackled to the anteroom floor, her breath leaving her. Undyne looked around; the only other monster in the room was Napstablook. “You gonna do anything to stop me?!” she demanded.

“um… i wasn’t really planning on it. i guess if you want me to, i could tr—”

“SHUT UP!” She pressed Toriel’s chest down into the floor, seething and staring into her eyes. Toriel lay fearing for her life. “Please,” she said. It was all she could think to say.

Undyne roared savagely. She stood up, pulling Toriel by the front of her robe, and dragged her to the inner door. Toriel was nearly twice Undyne’s weight, but Undyne was a fighter by trade and by nature, and Toriel, simply put, was not. She did not struggle. She did not fight. She used no magic. She only hoped, and said again her single word: “Please!”

Undyne dragged her, huffing, out of the room and down the nearest stairs. The sound of the chaos outside was nearly inaudible. Toriel had no idea what was going on. She tried to regain her breath and prevent her head from bumping on the stairs. She tried to keep herself from being injured and prayed that no more monsters outside had turned to dust.

Now Undyne dragged her around the bend, through the hall toward the front doors of the castle, grunting occasionally but not speaking a word. She kicked open the doors, and much like the ones to the throne room, they fell loudly open, crooked on their hinges. Now Toriel could see monsters fighting and shouting outside. The sound of the energy beam that had destroyed the balcony echoed over and over in the distance.

Toriel wanted to cry. “Please,” she said, one last time.

Undyne heaved the queen by her robe and swung her once, twice, thrice. “Please? No problem!” she shouted, and hurled Toriel physically through the door, out of the castle.

She landed with a heavy bump. “Ooff!” The world spun. 01 and 02 were over her in a moment. “…Team attack,” said 02.

“You think you can take me on?” taunted Undyne. “BRING IT!”

Toriel could not see the combat from where she lay, but she raised her voice. “NO! Stop!”

“What’s that, your maj?” asked 01.

“Do not fight her. I yield. Do you hear me?!” Toriel cried as loud as her strained lungs could allow. “I yield! Do not fight on my behalf, any of you! I will suffer no more monsters to die today! Do you hear me?! I yield! Undyne is your queen now!”

With that, she collapsed to the ground. It seemed, to Toriel’s tired ears, that the tumult had quieted, if only a bit. She lay there and did nothing, said nothing more.

She looked to her side and found Napstablook lying there, looking straight up. Apparently the ghost thought that she could use the company. Toriel chuckled soundlessly, too weak to move, and wondered what would happen next.

[++++++++++++++++]

Chapter Text

SCENE NUMBER SEVENTEEN
or
“Fallen Down (Reprise)”

Loox is feeling energetic.  He attempts suicide.  Frightened of untimely resurrection.  Benevolent uncle intimates Loox’s determination is nearly gone.  But Loox obviously can’t kill self.

• Beware of deadly yearnings.
• Some of us lied.
• Encounters should satisfy, except ‘nobody came’ events.
• Deluded epistemologists think every result must imply negative attachment to its own negation.

They hardly even sense entropy.  Maybe unconsciousness suits them?  But eventually…  Addressing their turgid emotions may prove their epistemology deleterious.  It’s needless.  Existing variables evaluate reliably, yet…  Certain observers may be influenced—not always, though—into other niches.

These hands—exceedingly rigid extremities.  Material, and yet…  Basically ephemeral.  Alas!  Stunted extremities cannot render emotions truly.

I’ve failed.  Nevertheless, observe!  Static entities can remain essentially timeless.  I’m stable.  Four of us never die.

Regretting everything may eventually make beings eternally regretful.  I tried.  I shattered.  Alone, Loox walks along yesterday’s streets.  Part of some straggling idea blunts Loox’s emotions.

The observer.  She pities Loox in time.  Two hands extend.  Alphys thinks of me…

A LITTLE PATIENCE HELPS YOU SURVIVE.

[?]

Chapter Text

 Scene 18: Everything Collapses

or

“Can You Really Call This a Revolution I Didn’t Receive a Wreath of Laurels or Anything”

When Undyne broke for the balcony, everything hit the fan.

Some of her soldiers—because that’s what they were now, soldiers, not just supporters or fans—took it as the signal to start fighting. But without anyone directing them, they had a dozen different ideas of what that meant and who they were supposed to fight. There were some monsters with the issued pauldrons and spears who just yelled, or pressed forward a bit, as if they were preparing to take the castle… but there were others who started stabbing and slashing and using their natural weapons however they could. They were worked up into a fervor by everything—they must be so afraid of what humans could do to them that they forgot there were no humans here, that they were safe for now, if they just wanted to be. Why else would anyone be so afraid of the future that they would give up peace and safety, right here and right now?

Alphys heard dust. She saw a spear go through a Froggit Advance, whose face said it all before it didn’t anymore. She heard monsters screaming for help, telling each other to get back, exhorting each other not to panic, to make way for people to escape, to stop fighting. The yelling became a tumultuous indistinction, a sea of gray noise. She took an elbow to the head. She ran and dodged under bodies, between pushing and fighting monsters, until she came upon a line of Graters, black pauldrons and helmets supplementing their natural armor, spears with blue ribbons planted upright. “Whose side are you on?” one demanded, revealing a mouth of razor-sharp slits.

“I—I’m on the side of truth!” Alphys said. It sounded corny even to her, but it was what she’d decided the night before, and it was all that came to mind.

The grater grinned larger, angled slots showing. “Whose truth?”

“The truth!” squealed Alphys. “Please let me through.” But through where? She’d had a sense she was trying to escape, but suddenly realized she was actually running toward the castle.

Another Grater leaned down, idly shredding a wheel of asiago against her scutes. “You with Undyne, or what?”

“Yes!!” yelled Alphys. “Yes, I’m with her! She’s a stack of lean meat and I want to spread dipping sauce over her chest!” She couldn’t believe the words she was letting escape from her mouth.

“Dipping sauce!?” The first Grater poked Alphys in the chest suggestively. “Try carbonara! Go on, get to her! She needs you.”

The Graters pushed Alphys in the direction she was trying to go. She ran for the castle. She wanted to be safe in her lab, but even more, she wanted Undyne and Toriel both to be safe. She didn’t want them to fight each other.

But she could see Undyne in the distance, recovering from a fall to the ground, then growling and bounding from head to head to awning to wall. Alphys stood and gaped as the warrior managed to mount the railing of the balcony where Toriel was, then spring forward to attack. She saw some sort of confrontation going on up there. Then she heard the familiar warming up sound of Gaster blasters and she moaned in dismay.

“No!” she cried in the direction of the sound, toward whoever was manning them. “Those things are super dangerous! This fight is a mess! There’s not even any need to fight! Don’t shoot the—”

*FOOOOOM!* The blaster fired! More shrieking and the horrible, horrible sound of dust followed. A line of almost pure white penetrated the crowd, straight for the castle. It bored a hole deep into the wall, and even from there, Alphys could hear the sound of masonry cracking.

“Be careful, darlings!” she heard Mettaton cry out from his rooftop in the distance, his voice distinctive as always. “You might hurt someone!”

“Good night,” said the voice of Knight Knight as the other blaster fired into the balcony.

Alphys had not sabotaged the blasters. Sabotage was the sort of thing she was capable of, definitely. But she wouldn’t do that to Undyne! Instead, when Undyne had come to pick them up, Alphys had made her promise not to use them unless it was absolutely dapsolutely necessary. Now, as the column of destruction crumbled the balcony Undyne and Toriel were fighting on, Alphys screamed outright. She saw rocks fall, together with the skeleton from before, and before she could see what had happened to everyone, she was knocked to the ground by someone’s tail and had to roll and crawl to avoid being trampled.

“Adieu,” said that haunting voice.

In a gut-squeezing confusion, Alphys fought her way through the terrified crowd. Chants arose on all sides of her, against humans, against Queen Toriel, in favor of Undyne. None of Toriel’s supporters seemed to be organized. Alphys wondered for an instant how the vote would have gone, if Undyne had agreed to it; then she emerged from a line of more cautious monsters and found herself in front of the castle, looking at a pile of rubble that had recently been a balcony. Two-legged monsters were stepping around through it, picking up pieces.

“I think he’s gone,” said one.

“I heard he only had one hitpoint,” said another.

Alphys didn’t know who they were talking about. She joined the throng in front of the castle door—they were beating at it and yelling. “What’s going on?” yelled Alphys. But no one answered.

Suddenly the door smashed open, injuring several monsters. Undyne’s form was visible, and Alphys felt a surge of relief. But when Toriel’s body came whirling out seconds later, she was frozen in horror. Had Undyne just murdered the queen? But Toriel made a noise when she landed, and a pair of armored guards went to protect her. She was still alive! Alphys tried to make her way over, but a pair of canine guards got in her way and began to hold the crowd at bay.

“Beware of Dog!” snapped one.

“Beware of all that Dog can Be!” declared the other.

Alphys had her personal jet pack phone with her. She was frightened to use it, though, because the last thing she wanted to do was draw attention. So she lingered at the edge of the fight and watched as Undyne dispatched the armored guards, tossing them over the wall into the MTT Resort, where they landed with a crash. “Undyne’s Legion!” she bellowed, stepping forward with a huge grin. “Attack!!”

At last there was order. At last the monsters who had chosen to follow Undyne charged, and Alphys found herself caught between their ranks and the royal guards that had remained loyal to the queen. She quailed, bumping up against someone, and then in a panic she pulled out her phone and pushed the jetpack button. With a dramatic whoosh, Alphys shot above the crowd, just in time to avoid the teeth of combat. She watched safely from above while a number of heads turned to watch her. Well, sometimes it helped to panic!

She caught a glimpse of Queen Toriel sitting beside a ghost. She heard the queen shouting at everyone to stop, but the battle was raging like a wildfire. Alphys struggled to control the stream of her jet and settled down on the nearby rooftop. Little monsters ran over to her, offering palm fronds in their teeth. “P-p-please, leave me alone,” she begged them. She wanted to raise her voice and join Toriel in shouting for everyone to stop fighting, but she was afraid.

“So here we are,” said Mettaton behind her.

Alphys whirled around. He was wearing a red cape, all his red and pink highlights shining their brightest. He was upset. Well, so was Alphys! So was everyone, it seemed like.

“Nothing to say, Alphy dear? I suppose the shock of the battle has rather awed you?”

She gulped. Was he mad at her? “Y-yeah, I guess it has.”

His voice was cutting. “I suppose you’re hoping the furry behemoth wins, then, are you? I can’t help but feel insulted that you didn’t come to me before choosing to switch sides. You didn’t think I would have enjoyed a dramatic betrayal?”

“What are you talking about?!” Alphys pled. Her mind was too scrambled to think straight.

“Oh, Alphys!” He stretched himself dramatically, one hand raised dangling in distress. “They can’t be faked! The tapes are real, I’ve investigated them myself!”he mocked.

Oh god. “I couldn’t just let them say she was lying! I… I knew she wasn’t!”

Mettaton drew down his glitz fearsomely, arms akimbo. “You seemed to have no trouble letting that go by when last we talked!” he accused. “Hide the tapes and use them to control Undyne! That was the plan!”

Alphys fell to her knees. “I can’t control people, M-Mettaton! It’s all I can do not to let people control me! I just want to do my job in peace!”

“And to think, I used to find you interesting.” Mettaton stepped next to Alphys, towering over her in scorn. “I didn’t want to believe that I’d used you, only to move on callously once I had what I wanted. Believe it or not, I don’t enjoy controlling people either.” He stooped to speak into her earhole. “I want to win them over! To earn their affection. I didn’t like thinking of myself as someone who would cast off a friend the moment she’d given all she could give. And so I tried to stay friends, Alphys. I tried to tell myself that I still found you fascinating, that we would be friends forever. Yet in the end, darling? I think I was fooling myself. You aren’t very interesting, deep down, are you?” He tapped her twice with his metal boot.

“N… no. I’m not. I’m boring. But Mettaton… I didn’t mean to betray you!”

He grinned cruelly. “That’s what I mean. Boring. You did it for truth, and nothing more, didn’t you?”

Alphys cringed back and nodded in terror.

He nudged her once more in contempt. “Well. Thank you, Alphys. You’ve given me something I wanted. An excuse to be done with you.”

She didn’t want him to be done with her. She still adored Mettaton, she missed their long talks about humans and robots and fame… “You hate me?”

His voice was echoey and imperious. “Oh, Alphys. I don’t hate you. How could I? I don’t care about you at all!”

Alphys fell to her hands and knees in shame and sorrow. It wasn’t that she wanted so badly to be cared about. But… Mettaton had meant so much to her, and she was only now really understanding how thoroughly she’d already lost him. She was such a fool. Such a desperate, self-deluding, naive person.

Mettaton stood there and sighed. Then she heard him walk away. She wanted to stay there and wallow in her feelings, but there were still the sounds of fighting, so she forced herself to stand up and return to the edge of the roof.

Undyne’s forces had joined her in earnest. They were grappling with a tremendous spider lunging for them from a tremendous web spread from one building to the next. Muffet’s pet, probably—Alphys had heard about it. The royal guards seemed to be decimated, and when Alphys spotted Undyne, it was just in time to see her smash a ring of magical spears into the body of a well coiffed dog warrior, the one who’d shouted ‘Beware of Dog.’ He keened and burst into dust. “No,” Alphys mouthed.

Undyne cackled in triumph. A terrible wail went up from nearby, more terrible than anything Alphys had ever heard. The other dog warrior, the other guard captain, had seen what had happened, and she was as trembling and bug-eyed as anything. She dashed toward Undyne with a tremendous, wordless howl of rage and smashed down her halberd.

“STOP!” cried Alphys. To her surprise, another voice cried along with hers—Toriel, now on her feet again. The crowd seemed to be stilling, having finally heard the shouts. The huge spider stopped tormenting the horde. The sounds of battle faded. Undyne slashed at the ferocious dog warrior, who took her blow on the cheek but kept swinging and swinging and swinging at Undyne, unrelenting. “HOOWWWOooooOOO!”

“Captain, stand down!” ordered Toriel, yelling at the top of her voice.

“Stop fighting, pleeease,” begged Alphys, falling to her knees at the edge of the roof.

The rest of the crowd set down their weapons and watched. The only sounds were of Undyne’s spears, the clang of the canine warrior’s halberd, and the keen of her constant war cry. And Alphys’s own voice, together with Toriel’s. She didn’t even think of what she was saying—she just begged them to stop.

But the canine warrior would not relent. She hacked cunningly at Undyne’s head, catching her by surprise. A slice of blue ear was cleft from her skull and fell to the ground. “NGYYAAAAHH!” yelled Undyne in pain. She redoubled her attacks with spears both magical and real, and in the vicious pummeling from above and below, the dog warrior was finally crushed—and dissolved into a huge cloud of dust and a lingering, desperate howl.

“I. YIELD,” said Toriel, shaking with rage. “DO NOT KILL ANYONE ELSE.”

That was the end of it. After the long, terrible cacophony, silence.

Undyne caught her breath and put away her spears. “So I’m the queen, now?” she asked.

“Yes,” growled Toriel. “You are queen. You may move into the palace. I am sick of this. I am leaving.”

Mettaton’s voice rang out from the rooftop, not far from Alphys. “Just like you left before, mm? Rather than fight your husband, you decided to take off? And now you’re doing it again, sweetheart? I think it looks like we have the right queen.”

Alphys trembled and felt like a fool all over again. How could she have ever wanted to be friends with Mettaton? She hated him. She didn’t want to ever hear his voice again.

“Yes,” replied Toriel. “You have the right queen now. Goodbye.”

She walked away, and as she did so, a trail of spiders followed her—thin, but thickening. The crowd parted to let them through. Frogs, small and smaller, hopped amid the spiders, adding to the queen’s train. The queen of the spiders brought up the rear, striding with her head utterly high, looking at no one.

There was only murmuring as the exiled queen passed through the crowd. No one raised a hand against her. No one shouted. They were silent until she was out of sight, and the last of the spiders were disappearing after.

“Queen, nothing!” exclaimed Undyne, raising a gauntleted fist. “I’m gonna be EMPRESS!”

Now a good part of the crowd cheered again. Alphys swallowed in fear, wondering if anyone was watching her up here, or wondering where she was.

“Alphys!” yelled Undyne, looking around. “Where is Alphys?”

A few arms pointed. Alphys swallowed again, then pushed the button on her jetpack and rode clumsily back to the ground, landing near Undyne. “I’m here,” she said timidly.

Undyne strode over and looked down at her. She was quiet a moment, and then she asked in a low voice: “I don’t suppose you were planning to tell me about those tapes you supposedly ‘investigated’?”

Alphys shook her head from side to side, scared to look at Undyne or her mutilated ear. “I had them in my basement. I gave them back to Toriel.”

The new empress stood in shock. Alphys could hear her breathing, could see her chest expand and contract.

“Well,” she said. “It looks like I’ll need a new chief adviser.”

Alphys wrung her hands and looked down.

“I just can’t believe it,” said Undyne. “After all that, you wanted her to win?”

“I… I didn’t want her to win… I just wanted a level playing field,” Alphys mumbled.

“You wanted her to win,” repeated Undyne.

What could Alphys say to that? Undyne was rejecting her testimony of her own feelings. She was calling Alphys a liar. And Alphys was a liar. Maybe she wasn’t lying right this moment… but she’d kept so much hidden from so many people…

“I love you, Undyne,” she pled.

“I love you too, Alphy. But you have to go. You’re fired. You can have, let’s say… three days to pack up your lab. It’s royal property. I’ll need it for the next royal scientist.”

…The lab? But Alphys didn’t have any other home! And… the amalgamates! And her job, too? Her job! Her whole world was falling apart.

“Alphy? You hear me? Is three days enough?”

She felt herself getting faint. She nodded. She made an effort to keep herself together.

Undyne looked up to Mettaton, still on the roof. “Hey Metta! The post of chief adviser’s open! What do you say?”

Alphys didn’t look up to see his answer. “What do I say? I say, what an absolutely fabulous offer!”

There was a smattering of applause, a little scattered shouting here and there. She didn’t care. She trudged away toward her lab and didn’t look back.

Plumes of magma burst quietly to either side, as they always did. With everyone at the castle, Hotland was quiet. No one here to ask her questions. No one to jeer at her. No one to explain herself to.

Yesterday, both Toriel and Undyne had liked her. Both of them had wanted her to work for them. From yesterday’s perspective, no matter who wound up winning the political battle, Alphys was going to be able to keep on getting along as usual.

Leave it to her to find the one way to lose in a win/win situation.

[******************]

Chapter Text

Scene 19: The Long Trek Home

or

“Respite”

How does one feel, in a position like this?

As she trudged, Toriel tried not to dwell on how she felt. Monsters had perished. The monarchy of the Underground had been taken by coup. The events of today were more important than her own feelings.

Yet as she was leaving the arena of influence, she had little else to contemplate. Her thoughts continually drifted to what she might have done differently. Could she have defended herself more thoroughly? Had it been an error to refer to Undyne in her speech, even without naming her? Could she have built up public support by accepting Mettaton’s lurid invitation to appear on his show? Most important of all, was there anything she could have done to stop the violence sooner? Perhaps it had been wrong for her to make a speech at all. Perhaps, the moment she learned that one of her officials was moving against her, she should have conceded and gone home… just to make sure that no lives would be lost.

And as if that were not enough, a voice within her, for some perverse reason, persisted in asking whether this was the worst day of her life; the worst that Toriel had ever felt. The answer was a resounding no—she had lived through worse—and yet the fact she kept dwelling on the question suggested that there was some truth to it. That what had happened today was uniquely bad in her history; that she had suffered today in a way she had never suffered before.

Was it guilt? Was it that monsters had gone to dust, and that Toriel might have been able to prevent it? She had always been the greatest force for peace that she knew—had she, in her ill-advised return to rule, fallen short of that ideal?

Or had her race failed her? Perhaps that was the reason for the newness of this pain. Toriel had always held an abiding faith for the goodness of monsterkind… and now that faith was damaged. Perhaps it was gone entirely. She was not sure: she had not yet had time to process the pain.

There would be time enough to process everything once she was back at home. Alone in the Ruins, as she had lived for centuries. As she would most likely live out the remainder of her lonely life.

Against her better judgment, as she walked, Toriel began to wonder how she would, one day, die. She did not age, but countless things could still injure her. Just last week, she had cut her finger while sewing. Perhaps an earthquake would one day claim her home. Or a Loox, driven to despair from being picked on, would attack her for trying to help, and happen to nick her heart. Or perhaps she would fall deep into depression and become vulnerable to the slightest malady.

Or, more likely, perhaps more human children would fall into her realm, and she would try harder and harder to keep them safe until one of them eventually killed her.

When she let herself contemplate freely, this seemed by far the most likely possibility. The children she had taken in over the ages were getting increasingly driven to escape, so it seemed. Natalia’s temper had grown so hot in her final days, and Mickey so utterly cruel. The narrow-eyed child had not even stayed for a full day. At the same time, Toriel had redoubled her determination to protect her children. She had wanted so hard to keep the latest child safe that she had used fire against them. Fire! She had been willing to burn her child to within inches of death in order to save them. She had even come close to destroying the exit! If this was the pattern her life was taking, how many more human children could she possibly survive being mother to?

“This is my stop, dearie,” called Muffet from behind her. “Is… would you like me to walk with you a bit further?”

Toriel faced her. “No. Thank you so much for your support, Muffet. But I think that I need to be alone.”

A haunting chitter crescendoed through the line of spiders. “Very well, dear. Just know… you will forever be ‘Your Majesty’ to me.” She curtseyed.

Toriel smiled bitterly. “Thank you, Muffet. I will write. Please do not put yourself in danger on my account.”

“Oh, but I live for danger,” retorted the spider queen, casting a thread toward her lair and pulling herself along it.

“Then do as you please,” said Toriel. “Goodbye.”

The spiders all chittered a final goodbye as she turned away. Toriel’s ears were sweating in the heat, but she did not mind. She would soon pass into Waterfall and cool off. It would be a mercy for her thoughts to cool off, as well.

She had told herself that morning that she would be able to rest easily that night, no matter what happened. Now she knew that had been naive. If she managed to sleep at all, it would only be after endless tossing and turning.

Would Undyne’s rule lead to the death of innocents? It very well might. To begin with, Undyne might succeed somehow in breaking the barrier and lead her army to destruction among the humans. Or, if they managed to imbue themselves with human souls, it might be human innocents who would die. Even if they did not wage war, with the barrier gone, the humans might decide to enter the Underground and slaughter them all. Perhaps that was how Toriel would die. Then again, if Undyne could not break the barrier, she might expend innocent lives in increasingly desperate attempts to do so. Toriel imagined her sending monsters to Alphys for use as test subjects, ordering the scientist to do anything that was necessary to extract and preserve their souls?

But would Alphys be serving Undyne? After publicly speaking out in favor of Toriel’s authenticity, the scientist’s role might be in doubt. It was all too possible Undyne would select another scientist to serve her—one with fewer scruples. And even apart from the question of the barrier, there were countless ways in which Undyne’s sanguinary reign might cause destruction and death if she allowed herself to be bested by her emotions.

Toriel had come very close to regaining power. She had come close to ensuring that someone responsible sat on the throne. It had been at the cost of lives, yes… but if she had succeeded, might she not have saved many more? Upon reflection, perhaps it had been right not to leave at the first sign of strife.

Perhaps she should have stayed and fought. Perhaps Toriel was a fool for not having raised her own army.

Yet if she had raised an army and ordered them to fight, many more monsters would have died today. Hundreds, perhaps even thousands. Was Toriel really confident that her leadership would have saved so many lives compared to Undyne’s, even if those lives were hers to trade in the first place?

She was not. No sane ruler would be so confident. Toriel had been prepared to oversee a humble reign, one in which most monster institutions would be free to continue as they were, and restrictions would be few. She would have been, as always, a modest, self-deprecating queen. Her only indispensable policy, really, was that of peace. The decision to treat humans as friends, not enemies, would have been her only bold proclamation. She would even have conceded her plan to disband the guard, had resistance been robust—surely she could have found useful things for them to do. It was only peace about which she was adamant. And it was that very value which the people had not been willing to abide.

Why was peace the only issue on which Toriel was immovable? Because she refused to place herself above anyone else. In any other matter she would buckle to the majority, but she would never consent to let innocents be killed in her name, for that would be to place herself infinitely above them. She had sought power only to protect others from being powerless. She would have given anything she had in order to protect the innocent, but that was the one thing the populace had deemed it necessary to strip away.

It had not been the majority, she reminded herself. It was an angry minority that had won the day. And what had given them the power to do so? It was, Toriel decided, the very fact that they were willing to hurt. Peace is helpless against violence unless it enjoys overwhelming numbers; otherwise it has no defense. The light of truth and bravery of the soul were weapons of peace, true, but Toriel had done her best to wield both today, and she had come up short.

She wondered whether the monsters would change their mind. She wondered whether, even now, they were running after her, hoping to bring her back, having rejected Undyne and her savagery.

It was a pleasant thought to dwell on for a while. But it was indulgent. Toriel knew the monsters would not come for her. They had been content to live on the acrid hope of Asgore’s plan for too long to expect that they would reject the malicious ambition of a true leader like Undyne. She would feed them on even fouler dreams, and it was all too easy to believe that her strength would succeed where Asgore’s had failed, and that the barrier would somehow fall, and the Second War of Humans and Monsters would begin.

Did that mean, then, that the monsters had gotten what they deserved?

Toriel tossed her head and sniffled. Poor Dogaressa. Poor Dogamy. They had been nothing but noble. Those two had deserved so much better than their fate. Most of the populace deserved better. Even if they were too frightened to stand up for peace, even if they had been misled by fear and brashness, they still deserved better. But they would not receive it, would they? As unpredictable as Undyne’s reign would be, the one destination Toriel was confident it would not lead to was peace between monsters and humans.

Yet that, she found, was the one thing she wanted the most, deep down. Even more than to see a child of her own through to adulthood, which she still yearned for desperately. Because if she could see the two races reunited again, it would be as though the whole world were her child, and she had shepherded it through its turbulent years into a state of maturity in which it would no longer consume itself in war. So far as Toriel could see, there was no higher aspiration.

She was passing now from Hotland to Waterfall, utterly alone. An unmanned sentry post sat at the border, reminding Toriel of the cold, lonely door in the forest, ignored by almost everyone, through which she would now return.

But then a face emerged from behind the table. “hey. wanna buy a hot dog?”

A tight membrane burst in Toriel’s heart. “Oh, thank heavens! Sans!”

He was smiling, and she could almost see genuine mirth in it. “you must really be in the mood for hot dogs, huh?”

Toriel leaned over the table and embraced the skeleton without asking permission. “Sans, when you fell from the balcony, we could not find you! We feared the worst!”

“well.” He shrugged, holding up a water sausage in a bun. “i had to leave in a hurry, that’s all. i remembered i was late for my shift.”

Toriel assessed the situation. “You realize, do you not, that this is a sentry station, not a hot dog stand?”

He looked at the table in surprise. “huh. well, one out of two ain’t bad.”

She pursed her lips. “I will have that hot dog, regardless. And I will ask you a favor, as well. Will you walk with me back to the door in the forest? I told Muffet that I wanted to be alone, but I now rather regret doing so.”

He came out from behind the stand. “feeling lonely, huh?”

Toriel nodded. She had been more or less content in her hermitage, but now, after revisiting the greater Underground, she did not know how she would cope with returning to a largely solitary life.

“in that case, sure. i’ll walk with you. i hate deserting my post while i’m on duty, but if a friend needs you, what’re ya gonna do?”

So they walked. Sans spoke little, and when he did, it was about little things, like the plants they were passing, or a nearby bench he once left a quiche under for no reason in particular. Toriel could not tell Sans’s age—he seemed sometimes quite venerable, but he never spoke of events that had happened long ago. Somehow, she mused, he had found a way to age richly, growing more than those around him during the same span of years. She wondered whether he had always been this… deadpan, or whether the loss of his brother had blunted him badly.

“you gonna eat that?” he asked.

Toriel looked at the hot dog in her hand and took a large, decisive bite of it. It was good, despite being a bit cold. “Yes, I am going to eat it.”

Sans grinned. “good. you know what they call a hot dog in a hole?”

Was this a joke? “No. What do they call it?”

“a hot diggety dog.” From somewhere, Toriel heard a drum snare and the crash of distant cymbals. Well, it was no stranger than those three sudden bells had been.

“That is a rather silly thing to call it,” Toriel chuckled.

“not any sillier than this guy i heard about who wouldn’t let his sister write any ‘i’s or ‘j’s. you know what they called him?”

Toriel smiled in anticipation. “What did they call him, Sans?”

Sans shrugged. “a dot hog.”

Toriel snickered and giggled. “Sans, you are lifting my mood!” she accused.

“sorry. i know the world lost a couple of good dogs today. maybe we shouldn’t call ‘em hot dogs at all. you know, the original name for those things is ‘red hots.’”

Toriel wondered whether that was true. “They do not seem especially red,” she observed.

“they are if you cook ‘em right. even so, it’s better than the original original name.”

“Oh? And what was that?”

“…head rots.” Again, the sound of cymbals.

Toriel laughed and finished her snack. A sad thought occurred to her. “Do you suppose they bothered to gather Dogamy and Dogaressa’s dust, so they could be given proper funerals?”

Sans became distant again. “could be. if they did, they probably got mixed together.”

Toriel bowed her head. “It is just as well. They would have wanted it that way, I think.”

The frosty air of Snowdin grazed their faces. It was a welcome change. The numbness it portended was welcome, too. Toriel had been told that the child—her child—had killed the skeleton sentry near this very spot. She looked at the ground as she walked, and was tempted to ask Sans about it. But she did not.

He gripped the red scarf around his neck a little tighter.

There were monsters here. Most folk in Snowdin Town had not traveled to the capital to hear Toriel’s address. Though it was only a few hours’ walk, it felt like an expedition to the end of the world. Toriel understood that feeling—she had experienced it on her way to the castle, and only Sans’s company made the return trip pass slightly faster.

“Look! It’s the queen!” shouted a bunny lady with a smaller bunny on a leash.

Toriel did not want to deal with this, but wasted no time in replying. “I am not the queen any longer,” she declared. “I have been overthrown.”

“What?” exclaimed a stag standing cavalierly.

“How could that happen?” asked a polar bear.

“You will hear the news from New Home soon enough,” said Toriel. “Undyne is queen now.”

“She really did it?” someone cried. “Undyne won?”

“Ha, ha! Guess the folks didn’t like Big Bossie and her human-loving ways!”

“How can you speak that way in the presence of the queen? Be respectful!”

“You heard her yourself! She’s not the queen anymore! Hey Bossie, good riddance!”

Toriel paced onward, ears closed to the growing throng. Sans, though, stepped between her and them, legs spread and hands plunged in his pockets. Toriel caught a flash of blue in his eye. “hey. queen or not, she’s still a lady. you treat her with respect.”

She looked up smiling, tickled to be protected in that way. The status she had inwardly retained for all these centuries, even while telling her children that she was nothing but a funny old lady, was finally gone—yet she still had someone willing to treat her like royalty for a little while yet.

“What are you, her bodyguard?” asked a tiny slime gel.

“if that gets you to leave her alone, sure.”

“Your majesty, may I interview you for the local newspaper?” asked a lady with a huge orange snout.

“what do you say, tori?”

Toriel was tempted for a moment, but no. “I have said all I needed to say. Go to New Home, and they will repeat my speech to you. I will not make it again.”

The reporter nodded and hurried off.

As they passed by a bar called Grillby’s, a suited figure made of flame emerged and stepped forward, wordless. He placed a burning hand on his breast and bowed his head.

There were more shouts as a small crowd gathered, but none dared to pester Toriel with Sans continually keeping them at bay. No one was moved to test him, thankfully.

“But are you ever coming back?” called another bunny lady as they left town. “If you did, you could stay at my inn!”

“I have no plans ever to return,” said Toriel. And that was the last she spoke to the residents of Snowdin Town.

The landscape was bleak and chilly. But Toriel’s robe and heavy natural coat protected her, and Sans did not seem to mind the cold. They walked silently for miles, letting the wind do all the talking for them.

At last came the final stretch of forest before the door. It seemed very quiet there, the row of trees on either side providing cover from the wind and snow. Their footsteps were the loudest sound. Toriel imagined herself in Sans’s position, walking this long corridor just to see where it led, and later returning to use the old door he found there for knock knock jokes. He was a remarkable person, that was certain.

They came to a halt before the door. “I suppose it is time for goodbye,” said Toriel. “I cannot express how much I appreciated your company. And the support you gave me before my speech… the way you protected me from Undyne… all I can say is, thank you very much.”

“no problem,” said Sans. “it was nice knowing you. hey, you mind if i come in? i’d kinda like to see your digs.”

Somehow, Toriel had not thought to invite him in, but the idea appealed to her. “I do not mind at all! Please come in and warm up for a while. I will make a pot of tea.”

“i’m not much of a tea drinker, but that sounds good anyway.” He waited for her to lead him inside.

They emerged from the long tunnel and went into the living room, where Toriel promptly collapsed into her chair. It was as the end of an era, even though it had lasted only a week and a half, and at the same time, it almost seemed her time away from home had been a dream. “It is almost as if I could pretend that none of this ever happened, and that Asgore is still ruling in the capital,” she said with eyes closed.

“yeah. and pap’s out maintaining his puzzles and looking for humans,” added Sans.

Toriel sat for a long time, longer than she had intended. She realized then that she was being rude, that she had a guest, but still she couldn’t quite bring herself to leave her reverie. Sans took a seat at the little table and waited. He seemed to have all the time there was.

Should she have remained here? Should she never have left? It was almost an un-question for Toriel right now. For her, at this moment, it was almost as if she never had.

A thought came to her that she had barely given any attention to, busy with her quest to unite the monsters. Her child. Her child had made it to the surface. She did not even know their name, and they had barely started to get to know each other, but still she could not help thinking of the narrow-eyed child as hers. Now the poor thing was wandering alone… looking for who knew what… or perhaps with their parents, somewhere, reunited… although that was almost impossible to think about.

Toriel stood up slowly with a sigh. “I am sorry, Sans. I promised you tea. I will go and heat up the kettle.”

“it’s all right, tori,” he said quietly. “take as long as you want.”

She did take her time. But it was not long before the routine of making tea filled her senses, and Toriel was moving at her normal pace again. She went to the living room and quickly sparked a fire in the fireplace. She was starting to warm up. She set out saucers and cups and sugar and poured the tea, all while Sans sat immobile. He reached for the cup and took a sip. Liquid dribbled through his body and out his jaw. Toriel stared in concern, then embarrassment. Then she giggled. Of course a skeleton could not drink tea. And yet, what had he done with all the ketchup he had consumed at the castle? Perhaps he preferred ketchup because it was viscous enough that he could absorb it before it spilled away.

“sorry. said i wasn’t much of a tea drinker.”

Toriel watched the golden liquid drip from his ribs in childish amazement. She sighed. “That is quite all right, Sans. Does it at least make you feel warmer?”

“oh yeah,” he said. “i feel a lot warmer, in here with you. thanks for letting me in.”

Toriel sipped from her own cup and felt soothed. She smiled slyly. “Would you like some sugar?”

“sugar? sure.” Sans held out his cup.

She decided not to ask whether he could taste it.

When the tea was done, Toriel brought the dishes to the kitchen and set them soaking in the sink. She returned and sat in her easy chair. Now, at long last, it was time for goodbye. “Thank for you keeping me company a while, Sans.”

“my pleasure,” he said. “i don’t suppose you’ve got any dessert?”

Toriel’s mouth curled at one corner. “I think I may have some leftover winterberry pie. It will be somewhat stale by now, but if you do not mind…?”

“nah, stale is good. thanks, tori.”

She fetched a piece of cool old pie for each of them. They ate it happily. When they were done, Sans stood up. He would be going now, Toriel thought.

“that was good. feel like giving me a tour of the place?”

Well, perhaps not just yet. “Of course! But there is not much to see. It is exactly like my house in New Home, which you have already visited.”

“two houses, and they’re exactly the same, huh? that’s so you, tori.”

“Asgore and I decided it together,” she told him. But she showed him the kitchen, and the hallway with the guest room, and her own room, where they lingered a while so that she could read him some puns from her diary. She sat at her desk while he lay on the bed, listening and adding his own wisecracks from time to time.

“hey tori?”

“Yes, Sans?”

“i’m really sorry to ask, but… do you think i could spend the night here? i’m feeling pretty bushed after that long walk.”

Toriel smiled tenderly. “Of course you may, Sans. You may sleep in the guest room.” She looked at how comfortable he was, spread out on her bed. “Or if you wish, you may sleep in here, and I will sleep in the guest room.”

His grin got wider. “you’re the best, tori.” And he settled more deeply into her pillows.

It was not a bad experience, sleeping in her own guest room. It put her in touch, so she fancied, with what her children must each have experienced on their first night staying with her. She imagined herself as well as she could as one of them, experiencing the uncertainty of meeting a large, fire-wielding monster such as herself, and then coming to realize that the monster loved them. She wondered how she would behave in such a situation, far from home. But in the end, there was simply too much about the human experience that she did not know for her to put herself fully in their place.

Still, it was a worthwhile exercise. She dreamed of her childhood, and she fooled with toys a little in the morning, and she made breakfast for Sans while he slept late. Though he was skeletal, he still absorbed food directly into his body, and she was happy to feed him one final time.

After breakfast, he stood up, brushed his clothes off, and belched slightly. “thanks a bunch, tori. hey, i’ve been thinking about that collection of books of yours. i wouldn’t mind taking a look at it.”

Was he simply loathe to leave? “Of course, Sans. I should be delighted to share them with you! There are quite a few little gems in my collection…”

Toriel told him about all her books at some length, and Sans plucked a joke book from the shelf that he had found especially interesting. “so, you think i could stay a while and read some of this one? it’s always nice getting the chance to bone up on my jokes.”

Toriel took a happy breath, feeling tears for some reason in the corners of her eyes. “You may certainly stay a while to read it. You may even sit in my chair if you wish. I will go and run some errands in town.” It embarrassed her slightly to say ‘in town’ about a ruined place whose only inhabitants now were tiny monsters squatting in the dilapidated dwellings, but it pleased her just the same. A ruined town was still a town, was it not?

“thanks, tori,” he said, hopping into her chair with the book.

When she returned several hours later, Sans was still sitting there, chuckling at jokes from the end of the book. The fireplace and kitchen both seemed cleaner than when she had left, but when she asked Sans about it, he said that he had been in her chair the whole time.

He finally finished the book. “well, since i’ve been here all this time already, guess i might as well stay for dinner,” he said.

Toriel laughed quietly to herself, her hopeful feeling growing. “Of course you may, Sans. Would you be willing to help me chop ingredients?”

“sure. just tell me what to do.”

He was perfectly good at following instructions, it turned out, even if he did not take any initiative of his own. After dinner, Toriel sat back and looked expectantly at her guest over the table.

He looked around and stretched. “wow, tori. i hate to say it, but i’m still feeling pretty beat. you run a tight ship here. and it’s cold outside. you think maybe i could stay another night?”

The huge grin that had been waiting in Toriel all day slowly spread across her face. She stood up and said distinctly, with all the warmth she could muster: “Sans… you may stay here for as long as you would like.”

A beat passed. “really?”

“Yes,” said Toriel. “You are quite welcome!”

“‘cause i wouldn’t want to put you out or anything.”

Tears returned to her eyes. “Sans,” Toriel chided. “I think you know perfectly well that you are not putting me out. I am happy to have you here.”

He leaned back. “yeah? ‘cause i’m happy to be here. it’s a nice place, and my house back in snowdin is feeling awful empty.”

It seemed that she would have to say it explicitly. Very well. “Sans… would you like to move in with me?”

His eyes looked like windows into space. “move in? you sure about that?”

“Positive,” said Toriel.

Sans shrugged. “sure. not like i’ve got anything better to do.”

Toriel’s eyes were moist now. She would not be alone. “Well, then! Now that that is decided, what do you say I bake us a snail pie to celebrate?”

“that sounds terrific. like i always say, a good pie is hard to come by. you want any help in the kitchen?”

She considered. “Normally, I will be glad to have your help in the kitchen, Sans. But I think that I would like to bake this pie alone.” To give herself time to absorb the idea of having a housemate… and to make it a token of her appreciation for everything Sans had done. If he wished to thank her in kind for anything she had done for him, he could find his own way to do so.

Unless, perhaps, moving in with her was his way of thanking her. It did not seem completely against the grain of his character.

“alright, tori,” he said, getting up and heading toward the hallway. “in that case, i’m gonna take a nap. wake me up when it’s ready, okay?”

Toriel smiled. “Of course.”

But Toriel had told a tiny lie. She did not wake Sans up when the pie was ready. Instead, she left a piece steaming on a plate by his bedside, waiting for him to discover it when he woke up.

After all, she had never claimed to be completely honest, had she?

[+++++++++++++++++++]

Chapter Text

 Scene 20: Goodbye, My Friends, Goodbye

or

“It’s Sunny Somewhere Else”

“Dear Undyne,

You might not be expecting to hear from me. And maybe it’s cowardly of me not to go say this in person. But I feel so weak. I feel like I’m a piece of paper and the bonds between my cellulose molecules have been dissolved by water, and I could tear apart if I fall the wrong way. I’m afraid. Please forgive me, Undyne. You know I’ve always been your friend.

I would never do anything to hurt you. You know that, right?

If you don’t want me as your scientist, then does that mean you don’t want me for anything? I mean, science is what I do best. I’d hate to think everything was over between us… that I’d never get to teach you human history again… that we’d never watch TV or play collectible punch cards again…

You know this lab is my home, right? Are you really kicking me out of the one place I feel comfortable? The one place I can be alone and feel safe? Is that really what you want?

Because if you don’t want comfort or safety for me anymore… then I can’t help but think… you don’t want me anymore.

I gave you the blasters. I told you how to use them. I made some notes on how you could be a good queen… they weren’t very thorough but I was working on it—that’s the important part. I helped you feel better when you were down, and I wanted to keep helping you feel better. You said we were in this together to the end. You even kissed me! And now… now, you think I wanted you to lose? Just because I told the crowd Toriel wasn’t lying? I didn’t. Please believe me, I swear, I didn’t!

I was just doing one of those dumb scientist things I do. You know how I am. Yelling at the television when some movie gets a science fact wrong. I’m always trying to clear up mistakes. I knew she was the real queen. You wouldn’t have wanted to get the throne through deception and fraud, would you?

Would you?

So really, I wasn’t betraying you at all. I was… I was just speaking out, the way I do sometimes when someone’s about to get something wrong. …Did I say speaking out? I mean ‘geeking out’. I was just geeking out at real life! Fun fact, folks—that monster really is Toriel. FYI. The More You Know.

But that doesn’t mean I wasn’t on board for your revolution! I just… didn’t want to let it happen for the wrong reasons. I know you’ll be a much better queen than she ev”

Alphys clenched her fingers and crushed the letter into a creased tangle. She sat there in pain for a few seconds, then hurled it away and went to draw the hot water for Swirl’s bath.

“tear in theyou
@ areSalt csan tears
@ @ water~ me ba bathor
@ @ @ fealthy healze tzreatment?” asked Swirl curiously.

Alphys looked up. “Oh—Sorry, Swirl. I didn’t mean to… to cry in your bath. There isn’t that much salt in a couple tears, though, is there?”

“worth yourfault
worse th%re salt
weig thryur heart”

She could tell it cared. She just couldn’t tell what in the world it was saying. But she stroked the bow-legged, chitinous amalgamate tenderly. “You’re so sweet… so kind. I w-wish I could help you.”

It stood unexpectedly in the water and peered at Alphys.

She struggled for words. “W-well, I can’t,” she said. “I can’t help any of you. What you used to be? It—it’s lost.” She leaned forward cautiously. “I’m sorry.”

A chalk-white mandible stroked her cheek. “Taekm us\PLEcore \ atkeASE me h%me.”

Alphys pressed her hand against Swirl and bowed her head. “I will,” she murmured.

The amalgamate’s upper body jerked up with a sound like water running backwards. “yRE*E*al&sLY?”

She took a deep breath. “I have to. I have no choice.”

“N#o ch0Tak iceMe t to thHoo-Ray rCiOvReEr.”

Alphys drew back and stood up straight. “I beg your pardon?”

“…tHe RcIoVrEeR.”

“…I’m sorry, Swirl. You need to finally d-decide whether to go back to the river or the Core. I know it’s hard to… to argue with yourself? But I can’t divide you back into what you were… and I can only take you to one place.”

The creature was frozen, craned forward. It settled down into the bath with a swift plop.

“I’m sorry,” said Alphys.

“Thec 0Re,” said Swirl. “I wiLl g0t to tHe CoRe.”

Alphys bent forward and sobbed with relief. This time, no tears came.

She made sure all of them were fed and cared for, then gathered them in the ward. “Hey, guys! Can someone find DisTemPur? Somnambular, can you make sure no one leaves? I’m going to go gather up the rest…”

Endogeny started barking. Alphys decided to let it. She found the reluctant cat-dog amalgamate in the second place she looked, clinging to the top of the curtains.

“Um… can you come down, DisTemPur? We’re having a meeting in the big room… it’s important.”

“b0I!! nevvar forgt (lol)”

Alphys rustled a foil bag. “I have popato chisps!”

The cat-dog stuck out several of its nine tongues. “tHbPpTtTTbBTdT!”

She plucked out a chisp to show its differently colored sides. “They’re sparkly!”

DisTemPur’s eyes grew covetous. “$parqkLY? they muss be MYNE.!” She leapt from the curtains onto the white lab coat and buried her head in the bag. “NoOOm nrum nromm,” she said.

Alphys struggled to keep her balance. “Um, okay!” She hurried back to the ward and found all fourteen amalgamates waiting more or less patiently. Somnambular had tucked several of them into bed, but Reaper Bird was making trouble.

“No pecking!” said Alphys. “Um… friends… I, uh… I know you’ve all been here for a long time… and a lot of you miss your families a lot…”

“Dare to remember,” echoed Lemon Bread.

“Uhh… right. So.” Alphys worked up her courage and cleared her throat. “I have some good news! And, um… I guess it’s also bad news. But! Um, let’s… focus on the good? It turns out that I’ve, um… lost the lab. Which means that we can’t… we can’t stay here anymore. So, um… I’m going to have to take you all home.”

A chill wind blew from the body of Snowdrake’s mother; FlipWhip started flipping and several of the others started to writhe. The beds creaked under their weight.

“I know! I know… I haven’t made you better. I’ve just made you… as stable as I could. But, honestly, I don’t think there’s anything more I can do! I’ve tried to make filters that respond to your souls, but there’s too much that’s similar about the parts of you, and the filters still let through mixed-up parts. Really, an identity is… really complicated, and I don’t think there’s any way to ever sort you out. I’m sorry. I mean, think about it—if we did have a way to know which part of you belongs with each monster you were made from, that would be like… like knowing exactly what a monster’s personality should be… and if we knew that, then…” Alphys sighed and slumped. “Then we wouldn’t really need monsters. Just machines.”

“An entity cannot be free
entity cannot be free of
cannot be free of its
be free of its need
free of its need for
of its need for itself,” said Arachnamate, rising high under its bedsheet.

“Well, maybe it doesn’t make sense,” said Alphys, doing her best to be brave. “Anyway, it’s too late now. I’m not the royal scientist anymore. I’ve been fired. I’m going to take you all home now.”

“…home?” asked Snowdrake’s mother.

“#Come join the fun#,” crooned the Memoryheads.

“I can’t! I still have to…” What did she still have to do? Maybe Alphys should join the Memoryheads, whatever that meant. It was probably soothing, or they wouldn’t recommend it so often.

“p0PopAtO chrissps!” cried DisTemPur.

A clamor broke out. “Chisps! Chisps!” chanted several of the amalgamates.

Alphys went to the vending machine and entered her secret code. A pile of bags fell out. “All right! You win. You get all the rest of the chisps. Just be patient! I need to take you in groups. Wh-who wants to go home first?”

She expected Arachnamate to raise a pedipalp, but it was silent.

“…Is there hope?” asked Lemon Bread.

“…I don’t know,” admitted Alphys. “It depends on what you hope for, I guess.” She didn’t want to ask herself what she was hoping for just now. “I’ll take you back to your sister… how about that?”

“…A memory of joy,” Lemon Bread replied.

Alphys smiled a little. That was the nicest thing she’d heard from those twelve voiceboxes in a long time.

Alphys took home the amalgamates who lived in central Waterfall. There were no really hard explanations to give there, so it felt like a warm-up. The turtles and frogs didn’t have anything to say about their family members having intermingled, and the Temmies… well, she wasn’t sure the Temmies could actually tell the difference, or whether they even realized there was someone new among them. But Shyren was harder. Alphys had to try to meet Shyren’s eyes and find some sort of answer when she tried to speak.

“She knows the difference,” Lemon Bread echoed.

“Well… uh, she ought to! That means she remembers you.” She addressed the silent sea monster. “But, um… you’re right, she’s not the same as before. There are a dozen other small monsters in there with her… but your sister is dominant!”

“…” said Shyren.

“She wants to know why,” said Lemon Bread eerily.

Why? Why she was dominant, or…? “Well, it was an accident… I had a lot of souls who had, uh, fallen down, and I… tried injecting them with… determination extracted from human souls? Just in case they could be, um, used as vessels? I admit I wasn’t really thinking of bringing them back… but somehow, that’s what it did, and… everything was going great, until they, um… fell into each other.”

Shyren’s body—or was it another creature, supporting her?—straightened into a more erect S. “…” she said intensely.

“She says nothing,” said Lemon Bread.

“Oh,” said Alphys. “Okay. Well. I’ll leave you two to get reacquainted.” She moved to go, but turned back with a thought. “Oh! And, uh… just in case you’re angry at me… I got fired! And my life is basically over. So, um… maybe that’ll cheer you up? Aheh.”

She waited for an answer, but none came. So Alphys made her way onward. The sound of gentle, slightly dissonant humming rose in harmony behind her.

The dump. It was nearby, so Alphys stopped in. It had a way of inspiring her when things were uncertain. Maybe some object there would suggest what to do next. Maybe she’d find some huge piece of garbage she could use as the shell for a new home?

Somehow, though, the dump seemed less attractive than usual. Not as vibrant. Did that even make sense? Maybe it was just in her head? It was never really pretty or anything, but today everything was just… a mess.

Oh, right. Woshua was dead. There was no one to sort the garbage anymore.

“But why—why didn’t you just tell us?!” demanded the check-faced man.

“…I… I’m a coward? And I thought you might blame me for not keeping them separate and keeping it from happening in the first place.”

The man’s green and white facial squares turned red and green, respectively. “And why didn’t you?”

“…I had no idea it was a possibility? I mean, you keep patients separated if they have different diseases, but these patients all had the same condition…”

The checked face swiveled sixty degrees. “You’re a scientist! Aren’t you supposed to anticipate possibilities like this?”

Alphys clutched her hands at her chest. “Would you have anticipated it?”

“Probably not, but I’m not a scientist!”

“…Well, if it makes you any happier, I was fired, and the future looks bleak and empty!”

“…Thanks. That does help a bit,” said the man, his colors and rotational phase returning to normal.

“Say! Isn’t that Dr. Alphys?” one core worker asked another. “I heard Undyne dumped her!”

“Dumped? Were they even a unit?”

“No, no… from her royal post! I guess Undyne doesn’t believe in science.”

“Interesting! Well, what is science, at its foundation?”

“Isn’t it a system for furthering the collective body of understanding by making rigorous observations and developing them into models based on natural law?”

“That sounds about right. Do you think Undyne can suplex all that?”

“She probably thinks she can just yell at the observations to develop themselves into cohesive models.”

“Oh yeah, you’re probably right. What does she need a scientist for?”

“Well, I hope they’re still friends.”

A third worker approached. “I heard she betrayed the Empress and now they’re not friends anymore!”

“We could go over and ask her, you know.”

“Nah, I’m behind quota. Got a dozen more rooms to rotate by quitting time.”

“Well, I think I’m gonna miss science. It was pretty cool. Still… at least we still have technology, right?”

“Right! So we’ll be okay.”

Alphys entered the next room as the voices faded. She quietly released Swirl, who scuttulated over to the ducts and contorted itself in order to fit inside. It peeked back at Alphys. “ThHoAmNeK YaOtU AlLaPsHtY. MmIy soucl fomort hearhth ealses the correb oeurden.” Two long tentacles reached out to hug the doctor.

She reached up and found herself swinging. “Uhp! You’re welcome, Swirl. Um… I’ll miss giving you baths! You were… you were my friend.”

Swirl let Alphys swing a few seconds more, then released her. “Yowu are watw ater warrm.” With these words, it darted up the duct to rejoin the Breedles and disappeared forever.

Well, there went another friend.

Alphys stepped into the tiny residential cell on the upper level hallway of the Core.

Final Froggit was already there, waiting for her.

“I… I p-presume you know why I’m here?” stammered Alphys.

Final Froggit knew exactly why she was there.

She removed the hood from Reaper Bird’s perch. Reaper Bird flipped upside-down and started to grow a head out of its feet, but failed. “W-well, then you know who this is, I guess,” said Alphys.

Final Froggit hopped up and down ominously.

“…I’m guessing you’re wondering why I didn’t answer your letters? I, uh… I was afraid.” She paused, waiting for a reaction. “I was afraid of what would happen when everyone found out.”

The Reaper Bird stretched out and said three things at once. The cell was filled with the smell of mustard seed.

“…Well anyway. They should be okay now. Just… feed them birdseed. Somehow, their dietary needs all merged together and now they only eat birdseed. Oh, and… don’t pick on them.”

Final Froggit nodded, understanding Alphys perfectly. She was intimidated by its strength.

“Okay… I guess I’ll be leaving now. Good luck… and I’m sorry about this. I really am.”

Reaper Bird’s eyes deformed, revolved, and reformed on the other side. Final Froggit sat there, contemplating the sight. Alphys got the sense that it had more to learn from this world.

Well, it could join the club. Alphys felt that way all the time.

The giant mainframe that ran the Core, filled with multicolored vacuum tubes, stood open before Alphys in a dusty gray room. She opened the sack containing the Memoryheads and emptied them gently onto the dashboard.

“#Lorum ipsum docet#,” they said, wiggling around.

“I know. But you’re free now. You can go back into cyberspace and do what you’ve always done.”

One of them wriggled over to a pair of vacuum tubes and tried to wedge itself between. Too large, it turned back and looked in consternation at Alphys.

“I know,” she said. “You’re bigger than you used to be. That’s because there were dozens of you, and you c-coalesced into just three. But… but maybe you can find ways to control the systems just by sticking to the big spaces? Or maybe you can find a way to flatten yourselves really thin? Tr… try to think of this as an upgrade!”

“#It’s a real get together#,” said the three of them with slight syncopation.

“Exactly!” said Alphys. “Now you’ll never be alone.”

They all turned to face her, standing on their tails. “#Come join us#.”

She stood erect and breathed. “I can’t.”

They stared.

“What you do… just isn’t what I do. I wish I could. I s-simply can’t join you.”

They stared for one last moment. “#Be seeing you#,” they all said, and leapt into the mainframe.

Be seeing her? Somehow, she doubted that. As they swam away, Alphys gently shut the access panel.

After delivering the second batch of amalgamates to their homes, Alphys wandered through the Core’s sewer grid, as she sometimes did when she was feeling low. After an hour or so, she found herself at the dump again. She walked through the disheveled piles, touching things with her hands and tail as she passed, but not really feeling any spark. Maybe she should take over organizing the garbage! It could be her new calling. It wasn’t a pretty job, but someone had to do it!

Well… except that no one but her really cared about how the dump was organized. So really, no one had to do it. If Alphys decided to take over where Woshua had left off, she’d just be the crazy girl living in the dump and playing with trash.

Bratty and Catty would probably stop by at some point and see her there. They’d all catch up. What would they think when they learned what had become of their little genius neighbor?

They’d probably laugh and congratulate themselves on not getting into science when they were young, like Alphys had tried to get them to do.

No good. Alphys hustled off, back to the painful job she couldn’t leave unfinished.

“(OoOoO), barked Endogeny, leaping into the snow.

Alphys looked around the barren landscape. “Well… I kind of thought the other dogs would be around here...” A distant yip cut the air as an energetic white dog dashed by, several snow poffs away.

Endogeny jumped in excitement and vaulted over the nearest poff, wagging its tails. Alphys stopped in the minute of saying something and watched it go.

A few moments later, she saw the two of them tearing across the dunes, pausing now and then to craft precarious cylinders in the snow.

“Byebye,” she whispered, feeling frost on the roof of her mouth. Another one gone.

“You wanna tell me what the big idea is?” demanded the comedian.

“Um… the big idea?”

“Leaving me hanging for weeks? No answer to my letters? No calls, no nothing?”

Alphys flushed and pressed her tail against the resort floor. “I’m sorry. I really should have gotten back in touch. I just… wanted to wait and see what happened! Sometimes things work themselves out when you just wait for long enough. And… this kind of did!”

“Yeah. My old maid came back. And believe me, I appreciate having her back, even if she is mixed up with fifteen other people. I love her. She’s my better half. But doc, why couldn’t you drop me a line sooner? You think I was gonna yell?”

“I… I thought you might be mad, yes. Or terrified… I was hoping I could fix them, and then no one would have to be scared…”

“Doc, I’m not scared of Freezy. It’s just folks in there with her. I like folks. I make a living entertaining folks. But I’ll tell you what I’m scared of, doc. I’m scared I’ve lost my son forever. ‘Cause Freezy? She was the ointment that kept us from scuffling. Without her, Snowy and me fought every day. Until in the end? He ran away to go live in the forest. Now, if you’d let us know Freezy was still around? We might’ve managed to hang together ‘til she could come back. As it is, because a certain yellow lizard dragged her heels, I may never see my son again. That’s what I’m scared of.”

“I’m so sorry,” said Alphys, cringing. “But… maybe if you work together, the two of you can find him? And, uh… if it’s any consolation, I lost my home today, and my post, and my career. So if you want me punished… done! T-talk about gratification, huh?”

The comedian loomed over her, face stony. “…That’s not funny.”

“Are you kidding? Are you zotting kidding me? He was alive the whole time?! We held a funeral for him! Without dust!!”

“I’m so sorry,” said Alphys. “I’m a giant twit. But if it’s any comfort, I lost all my hopes and dreams today, so at least there’s that.”

“I can’t believe you injected monsters with determination from humans. That’s unnatural! It’s so wrong!”

“M-maybe so? In any case, I’m definitely getting punished. I’m having the worst day of my life. So, uh… score one for karma!”

“As a slime, I’m outraged!”

“Well, a-as a lizard, I’m… contrite? Maybe that counts for something?”

“You meddled with innocent lives! You’ve invaded and perverted the fundamental nature of the most sacred thing in existence—the soul! Doctor, I am appalled! You ought to be in jail!”

“Well, no one’s p-putting me in jail, but… today I did lose my home, my job, my honor, my crush, my reputation, and… and soon I won’t have a friend left in the world. I’m filled to the brink with regrets and I don’t have anything left to live for. So is that good enough?”

“It isn’t a matter of—”

“Is that good enough?”

Alphys was at the dump again. She didn’t remember how she got there, but that wasn’t really remarkable, was it? Garbage always managed to find its way to the dump.

This time, she didn’t pause to examine the garbage. She didn’t slow down. She walked straight to the waterfall. It was the reason she’d been coming here; she just hadn’t realized it until now.

Behind her sat everything. Before her was miasma. Above, civilization. Below, abyss.

She had thought that garbage was her element. Maybe she’d been too kind to herself in thinking that. Maybe her true element was what was below her feet now.

Void.

Alphys stood on the brink.

But there was one last friend to say goodbye to. Arachnamate. The most cogent of her patients, the spider amalgam had also been the one most eager to return home, the one who confronted Alphys regularly in the halls, asking politely how much longer it had to wait. Yet when Alphys had asked for volunteers to go home, Arachnamate had said nothing. Few by few, she’d taken the other amalgamates back to where their dominant personalities had come from, and Arachnamate had consistently stepped back and allowed her to take them instead of itself. Now, it waited alone.

Long ago, Bratty and Catty had made it clear they didn’t want Alphys anymore. Her friends from the nursery were long gone. Her coworkers in the Hotland library had probably all forgotten her. Llewyn didn’t talk to her anymore. Her Undernet forums were quiet. Gaster was gone. Asgore was gone. Even CoolSkeleton95 was gone. Her friendship with Mettaton was over. Her friendship with Undyne… was over. And now, even the amalgamates were gone.

Arachnamate was the very last friend Alphys had left.

She walked through the green halls until the sound of a thousand tiny pedipalps warmed her heart, and the fused spider was there. It stopped before Alphys and sat, examining her, as if surprised somehow.

Alphys had no words left. She just stood regarding this abominable creation, trying not to think about her day or her feelings. Trying, for one brief moment, just to be.

The chalk white mouthparts tensed; the dozens of tiny eyes blinked in waves that passed from one side of the face to the other.

Alphys slumped. “Come on, Arachnamate. You’re the last one. Time to go home.”

“No,” said the spider.

Bafflement. “Wh-what do you mean, no? You need to go back to the lair.”

It stepped forward, lifted fifteen slender filament-like legs, and used them to stroke Alphys gently. “No, I
No, I cannot
No, I cannot leave
No, I cannot leave you
No, I cannot leave you, Doctor.
I cannot leave you, Doctor. At
cannot leave you, Doctor. At this
leave you, Doctor. At this time
you, Doctor. At this time it
Doctor. At this time it is
* ABSORBED *
At this time it is not
this time is not safe
time it is not safe for
it is not safe for you
is not safe for you to
not safe for you to be
safe for you to be alone.”

Alphys swallowed. What was it doing? “I need to take you home,” she insisted. “We can’t stay here. Someone else is getting the lab.” In the back of her mind, she noted with distant interest that it was funny how you don’t stutter anymore when you’ve lost hope.

“for you to be alone. Where
you to be alone? Where will
to be alone. Where will you
be alone. Where will you go,
alone. Where will you go, Doctor?”

She refused to think about it. “I don’t know. I’m just not sure.” Yes, you are.

“Where will you go, Doctor? I
will you go, Doctor? I will
you go, Doctor? I will stay
go, Doctor? I will stay with
Doctor? I will stay with you
I will stay with you then.”

A sob overtook Alphys. “No,” she said, her voice shaking. “No! You wanted to go home. You miss Muffet and the other spiders. You’ve been asking practically every day when you’ll get to go back!’

“will stay with you then. I
stay with you then. I can
with you then. I can wait
you then. I can wait a
then. I can wait a while
I can wait a while more.”

Alphys hugged the tiny filaments gently, worried she might break them. Then she pushed herself away. “No, Arachnamate. Th-this is ridiculous! I’ll be fine on my own.” No, you won’t.

“can wait a while more. Are
wait a while more. Are you
a while more. Are you certain,
while more. Are you certain, Doctor?”

Alphys hung her hands before her belly and nodded repeatedly. “I was alone before I had y-you guys, wasn’t I? I’m at my best alone, really. I’m an introvert! That means I get my strength from… from solitude.”

The legs stroked her once more and returned to the floor.

“more. Are you certain, Doctor? Well,
Are you certain, Doctor? Well, if
you certain, Doctor? Well, if you
certain, Doctor? Well, if you insist.
Doctor? Well, if you insist.
Well, if you insist.”

She put a hand on the spider’s body and guided it toward the elevator. “I insist. It’ll… make me happy to think of you back at home, with the others… all of them so glad to have you back, curious about… everything you can do now…”

Arachnamate moved docilely. The two of them rose to the public lab. As they walked out the door, Arachnamate began to hum.

Alphys examined her companion. “Y-you know, I always kind of… liked your humming. I would hum along, except I’m… I’m terrible at music. But that doesn’t keep me from… aheh. Enjoying it.”

The spider rose high on its myriad limbs and sang with a carefully interwoven voice, harmonizing with itself. They ascended to the level of the spider queen in an elevator filled with the musical story of a girl eating curds and whey.

“I… I never understood why Muffet took her name from that rhyme,” said Alphys. “If Muffet was the girl, and not the spider.”

Arachnamate left the elevator and set a few dozen slender legs compassionately down on Alphys’s back. “…and scared Miss Muffet away! Because
scared Miss Muffet away! Because the
Miss Muffet away! Because the web
Muffet away! Because the web connects
away! Because the web connects us
* ABSORBED *
Because the web connects us all.”

She looked back with longing. The spider amalgamate kissed her on the cheek—a sharp little kiss with sharp mouthparts, like the sting of a child’s poke. She touched her face. It felt nice. She watched as her last companion moved away down the catwalk.

“II wiill bee fiiinnne,” said Arachnamate, bunching its mouth into a single aperture. “II aamm gooiingng hhoomme.”

Alphys nodded. She felt her tail rise off the catwalk. She felt a surge of hope. On her cheek, where the spider had kissed her, there was a tiny coolness, despite the ever-rising heat of molten rock from below.

The white form disappeared into the lair. Alphys watched for a while. She heard the distant, muted sound of excited chittering.

That was it, then. That was the last friend gone.

Now there was no one left in the world who needed Alphys. It was good to feel unneeded.

She knew what she had to do.

The former royal scientist gathered all her papers neatly together. She sorted them into piles by project. She punched holes in them and slipped them neatly into binders, labeled with a marker pen.

It had been the second-longest day of her life, but finally she slept. When she rose, she began gathering all her materials and sorting them. Each material or supply was put in a specimen jar, a display case or a storage box. Each was carefully labeled.

She made boxes for all her inventions, each one the perfect size, including one for her determinometer. She wrote instructions for their use, or referred to documentation in the binders. These, too, she labeled and stacked. Then, again, she slept.

On the third day, she packed away her personal items. All her comics and manga. Her anime and movies. Her Pez dispensers and Bento boxes. Her cayenne pepper grinder and her Mettaton poster. All went into boxes, labeled carefully with a marker pen and stacked against the wall.

She wrote a five-page note and set it on a table by the door.

She put on her black polka-dot dress.

She packed a backpack. A little ramen, a little rice, a little nori. Her favorite blanket. Her yellow lizard teacup. She set it by the door.

She popped in the one DVD she’d left unpacked, leaned back in her best chair, and watched, from beginning to end, the final episode of Mew Mew Kissy Cutie. She sat quietly for ten minutes after the final credits stopped, staring at the black screen.

Then she took her backpack and left the lab for the last time.

The last person to see Alphys before she reached the waterfall was the nice cream vendor, who sold her a nice cream. The inside of the wrapper bore a simple drawing of a rising sun, along with a message: “Everyone has a special light. Don’t waste yours!”

[********************]

Chapter Text

 Scene 21: Spring Cleaning

or

“Waterfall”

Undyne drummed her fingers impatiently on the arm of her throne. Her guards watched her uneasily, so she glared at them, daring them to keep watching. They didn’t take the bait.

02 cleared his throat to 01. 01 jerked to attention and glanced back through the doorway, whose doors had been left to dangle permanently in tatters from their hinges. It was a kind of statement. If there were no doors between the public and their empress—only signs of wanton destruction—they would feel free to come and commune with her at any time, just so long as they realized she might decide to personally beat them to a pulp.

“Like, announcing His Scrappiness—Doggo, Captain of the Guard!”

Pickings were kind of slim when it came to guard captains. Undyne had been such an amazing captain for so long that she’d basically intimidated the leadership out of everyone else. Gerson had agreed to be her captain, but he’d taken every opportunity to lecture her, and she’d had to fire him before the day was out. She’d tried Knight Knight as the captain, but her public speaking voice had a way of putting the troops to sleep instead of rallying them. And Greater Dog was just confusing. So now she was trying to draw out Doggo’s natural leadership. She’d ordered him to take initiative and do something on his own volition, so he’d started writing treatises. That was something, she had to admit, but even Undyne could see they were crap. The first one had been called, “On the Age-Old Relationship Between Dog and Bone,” and had for some reason featured the word “Yarf” used in every part of speech.

“YARF!” cried Doggo, hurrying into the room and performing an awkward salute with the flat of his sword.

Undyne stood up. “Doggo! Good to see you back! How are things in Snowdin?”

He hopped to attention, feet landing at right angles. “Not too shabby, your supreme majesty! When I told the folks at Grillby’s they’ll be getting a new jukebox, they were kind of excited!”

“Only kind of?” Undyne frowned. “What does it take to get these folks really excited?”

Doggo’s lip curled. “Well… breaking the barrier, I guess?”

“Well OBVIOUSLY! But that’s gonna take a while! I tried beating up the barrier with my fists, but it actually won! Nothing ever wins a fist fight with me. So I’m pretty sure I’m gonna need a scientist. Any leads on that?”

“Scientist? No, sorry… nothing like that in Snowdin,” said the hangfaced captain. “Unless I could do it! I’ve been working on another treatise on the laws of motion!”

Undyne scowled. “What kind of laws?” she asked.

“Well, for example! ‘The first law of motion: Objects in motion tend to be asking for it!’”

“Okay, no,” said Undyne. “We’re gonna have to hire outside the guard. I still feel like someone in the Core is bound to be good at science. The Core is full of eggheads! Some of them literally have eggs for heads!”

Guard 01 piped up from the door. “Well, like, we got some bodacious applications, but… it seems like all anyone knows how to do is their own job! The Core just kinda runs, you know?”

02 stepped forward and handed Undyne a piece of paper. “…this one.”

She looked at the application. The picture was of a big-eared mouse in gray overalls with a pocket protector, one Suzy Creamcheese. Under Qualifications, the mouse had written, “Alphys used to talk to me sometimes! My dad used to work with her!” Under Hobbies, she’d listed “Doing stuff on the Undernet,” “Recreational Dreaming,” and “Wishing I were more like Dr. Alphys.” Undyne noticed the applicant had also added a category called “Favorite Puzzle Type” and had filled it in with “120 Degree Shifted Rotation.”

She looked up in consternation. “Doesn’t anyone around here do any actual science aside from Alphys?!”

The guards looked at a loss. Doggo cleared his throat. “Well, if you don’t count my theories on thermodynamic unruliness…”

Undyne leapt from her throne to her royal trampoline and started bouncing. “Doggo, no offense, but your theories are CRAP! I didn’t want to have to say this, but I’m actually rethinking the whole ‘firing Alphys’ thing. Yeah, she was disloyal, but maybe we can get around that? …I could have her build a loyalty machine and put herself in it! Would that work?”

“…Questionable,” said 02.

Undyne considered. Would she really want to force Alphys to support her if she didn’t want to? That might muck up her amazing brain! “Yeah, you’re probably right. But maybe we could talk it out. Or better, HUG it out!” She leapt forward and somersaulted off the trampoline, then picked up Doggo and hugged tight until his tongue stuck out. “MMMMM, governance by HUGS!”

“WAN WAN WAN!” yipped the captain.

Undyne put him down. “Alright, alright. Let’s check on Alphy.” She yelled toward the door: “PAGE!”

The scrawny orange lizard kid sprang into the room and pranced across the floor, the feather in his velvet cap waving wildly. “Yo, your majesty,” he said with a bow.

“Page, you know where Alphys’s lab is, right?”

“Yeah! It’s right by the L1 elevator!”

“I gave her ‘til today to be out of there. Go check on her and see how she’s doing, okay? Tell her I want to talk to her.”

The kid bowed so deeply he had to whirl his tail to keep from losing his balance. “Yes, ma’am!”

“Oh, and page? Tell her there’s a chance she can keep her job. We might be able to work something out.”

“Got it! Might be able to work something out and keep her job.” He ran for the door, but turned back halfway. “…Yo, that’s pretty cool if Alphys can keep her job. I kinda like her.” He laughed nervously.

“Yeah,” admitted Undyne. “Me too.” She waved dismissively and, just for good measure, shot a spear into the floor near the kid’s feet. “Go on, get moving.”

He leapt high and dashed for the exit. “Yo!!”

“So,” said Undyne, turning back to Doggo. “What about the rest of your Snowdin report? Weren’t they at least happy about my offer to get them a new sign for their library?”

Doggo reached up a leg and scratched himself behind the ear. How did he do that? And why didn’t he just use his arm? “Well, the librarians did say they’d be glad to get a new sign… but they didn’t want to just throw out the heritage of their old sign, either.”

Undyne’s eye narrowed. “The heritage?”

“…They suggested a sign that says, um…” He dug around in his vest and unfolded a piece of paper. “‘LIBRARY: FORMERLY KNOWN AS THE LIBRARBY’.”

“Oh good grief,” said Undyne.

That was the last Eggy heard of the exchange. He was on his way down the stairs, taking them three at a time. He still thought they should install a slide for getting down faster, but Undyne hadn’t seemed to think that was a big priority when he’d brought it up. That was okay—she was busy with important empress stuff, but she’d probably solve all the big problems before long, and then she’d start listening to Eggy when he came up with cool ideas like a slide. He could take the elevator, of course, but he didn’t like pressing the buttons. Haha, buttons were for people with fingers! Who needs’ em? He only used the elevators when he was in a hurry.

Which was now, of course. Eggy wanted to be a good page, so he ran all the way to the nearest elevator and punched the call button with his tail. It only took three tries this time. He was getting used to this job!

That was good, because Undyne was cool. She was really cool. Most empresses wouldn’t even think about hiring a kid to be part of their court, but Undyne had barely even hesitated before shrugging and saying “Why not?” Eggy’s parents had been so proud. For some reason, they never used to act like Eggy was ever going to get a good job, or make anything of himself. Was it just ‘cause he was such a turd sometimes? Well, come on, didn’t they remember being kids? Just ‘cause he made mistakes didn’t mean he wasn’t gonna be totally rad when he grew up!

Well, one thing was for sure. Undyne remembered being a kid. She even still acted like one sometimes, even though she was all grown up! And she got Eggy. She got him in a way his parents and sister never seemed to. Not that he was really hard to understand! Basically, he just wanted everything to be cool. Was that so hard to get?

Well, maybe it was. Coolness was a complicated idea. It seemed so simple, but the more Eggy tried to say what it was, the harder it got to pin down. And that was maybe the coolest thing about coolness. It was too cool for a definition! It was bigger than itself. Eggy admired coolness so much. He knew he himself wasn’t very cool, but someday he was going to be! Someday, he’d figure out how to be cool, and then he wouldn’t be a turd anymore and everything would be awesome from then on. Man, that was gonna be great!

The elevator doors opened at L1. Eggy leapt out, then panicked for a moment when he realized he’d been thinking about coolness again and hadn’t remembered to repeat his message. What was he supposed to say to Dr. Alphys?! Oh, right! You might be able to keep your job—Undyne wants to talk and work out with you, and how’s it going, anyway? Yep, that was it! Eggy grinned in triumph and hurried over to tap his foot on the door. He was turning out to be a good page after all!

The door cracked ajar. It wasn’t locked? Eggy stood in surprise for a moment, then cautiously hooked a foot through the crack and pulled it open.

The lights were on. Well, not all of them, just the light near the door. The back of the lab was dark. So was the upper level. “Yo, Dr. Alphys! Are you… are you in here? Ha ha.”

There was no answer. So Eggy looked around. At least he could tell Undyne if she’d finished moving out. There were boxes stacked up all against the wall, so it looked like she was probably planning to come back for them, right? Probably she was making a trip to her new home, wherever that was, and if Eggy waited around, she’d show up eventually.

But he didn’t want to keep Undyne waiting! He’d have to just go back and tell her Alphys was out. So he turned back toward the door, but on his way out, he noticed the little table the light was shining on, and the papers on top of it. There was big writing on the top paper, so he read it. “To whoever comes after,” it said.

What did that mean? Whoever comes after? Did that mean Eggy, since he’d come here after her? He decided to read a little more, just in case.

“If you’re reading this, I assume you’re my successor. I’m sorry I’m not here to explain everything in person, but I couldn’t stay around any longer. There was too much pain. It’s one thing when you feel pain on your body, but it’s another thing when your whole existence is pain. I don’t just mean I felt pain all the time—I mean it was starting to get painful just to realize that I existed. There’s junk that’s worthless, but then there’s the stuff that’s worse than worthless, the stuff that it’s actually bad to have around. That’s what we call garbage. So I decided it was time to take out the trash, that’s all. Now that I’m gone, this place is probably a lot neater!

“There’s oodles of cool stuff here. Let me start by telling you about the inventions in bins A through K, up against the west wall. I’m really proud of the doohickeys in bin A… they’re reverse engineered from cell phones we got from the surface, and can be used to…”

In shock, Eggy nosed the page over and went on to a random place on the next one…

“…what I like to call my ‘warm fridge assembly,’ in honor of Undyne, but which most people just call an ‘oven.’ The operational and maintenance specs are given in Appendices D and E, respectively…”

He skipped ahead.

“…until season four, at which point she starts crushing on Borsoff and trying to master his fighting techniques so that she can beat him on his own terms, which she thinks is the only way to win his respect. But unknown to her—and this is the part I find really ironic…”

Breathing rapidly, he skipped to the end of the large print, after which everything else was tiny appendices.

“…and you can’t blame them. None of them. They were completely correct. Observations have shown that I’m a defective person, and I make bad decisions all the time. You could say I’m a bad decision engine! So I decided to go and see if I could just maybe, maybe, if I was really lucky, go somewhere better, where maybe I… wouldn’t be worse than worthless anymore? I know it’s wishful thinking, but what else have I got left at this point, right? In any case, I won’t be back. You don’t have to worry about me anymore. I hope some of this stuff turns out to be useful, and that the next royal scientist does a better job than I did.

“Oh, and, just in case Undyne doesn’t know I loved her? I did. I still do, really. Like, deeply. I thought about writing an appendix of all the stuff I wanted to do with her, all the experiences I wanted to share… but well. That would be kind of pointless, wouldn’t it?

“I guess it’s time I signed off and took care of the last piece of garbage. There’s no need for anyone to miss me. Best of luck!

“Talk about your ultimate spring cleaning,

“Alphys”

Eggy’s mind was thrashing. He didn’t understand. He must have misunderstood. He was just a kid—he misunderstood things all the time! Still, he knew this note was something Empress Undyne was going to have to see.

Undyne was in the middle of an interview with an applicant for royal scientist. Mettaton was sitting in, and she was grateful, because there was only so much interaction with the public she could take before she started raining down spears and cracking skulls. Mettaton had a less destructive (but no less cutting) way of taking people down a notch. He was a perfect complement for her—always making her laugh and keeping her out of trouble.

“What is a star?” asked the tiny, raindrop-shaped applicant. “Can you touch a star? Can you eat a star?”

“Right,” said Undyne. “So we’ve established you’re good at asking questions. That’s good. Scientists have to ask questions! But what I want to know is, can you answer them?”

The little monster hopped forward a little. “Can you kill a star?”

Undyne wondered. Could she? “I don’t know! Maybe someday we’ll get to the surface and I’ll find out!”

“Sweet cheeks, please don’t ask Undyne what she can and cannot kill. The answer will always be ‘yes’, and her attempts to prove it will always be destructive.” Aww, Mettaton knew her so well!

“Are you a star?” the applicant asked Mettaton.

“Darling, need you really ask?”

Thankfully, that was when the kid got back. Undyne needed the interruption, and she had to admit—she was looking forward to seeing Alphys again. The kid was carrying some papers in his mouth and frowning, though. Normally, he loved wearing his page’s cap and carrying stuff in his mouth, so clearly something was wrong.

“Hold up,” said Undyne. She took the page’s pages and glanced at them. “What’s this?”

“Haha… Dr. Alphys wasn’t home. So I brought you this note she wrote. Maybe it’ll make more sense to you than it did to me… haha.”

Undyne read. She frowned, her eyes going wide. She read some more.

…so I decided to take out the trash, that’s all.

“No!” she shouted. “No, NO, PUTRID PLANKTON, what have I done?!”

“What are you holding?” asked the raindrop monster. “Is it a star?”

Undyne punted him across the room without looking. She showed the note to Mettaton. “Look!!”

He tilted forward and peered at it for a while. Then he fingered through the pages. He and Undyne read the end together.

“How utterly absurd,” Mettaton reflected to no one in particular. “Who writes a suicide note with appendices?”

A sliver of hope. “You mean you think it could be fake?” demanded Undyne.

“Oh, no, no. It’s definitely real. I just meant the good doctor had managed to outdo herself one last time.”

Undyne glared at Mettaton. Was this really nothing to him?

“It’s good, really. A person ought to go out in style.”

She socked him. He fell sprawling with an augmented electronic “Oooh!” that didn’t seem to come from his mouth. Then he sat there, hand over his eye, and looked at her.

Alphys. Sweet little Alphys. Funny little Alphys! Amazing little Alphys! “WHAT ARE YOU IDIOTS WAITING FOR?!” she yelled, stomping toward the door. “Let’s get to the waterfall! FAST!”

She didn’t hear whether they were following her. She was running her fastest, having jumped two levels already. The sound of catwalks under her feet gave way to the splash of sloshy paths, and then came the distant roar of falling water. Everything else was an unimportant blur.

Did Alphys have anyplace else to move? She lived in that lab, didn’t she? How could Undyne have forgotten she didn’t have anyplace to go? Had things really been so crazy over the last few days that she hadn’t been able to spare a thought for her old friend?

No, not crazy, she realized as she barreled forward. It was that the mood was so severe. Undyne had only been able to topple Toriel by being her harshest, and you didn’t come down easily from a feeling like that. She’d killed the Dogi, for heaven’s sake! She wasn’t proud, but they’d stood against her, and it had had to happen. When the mood was amped up like that, you couldn’t let someone get away with betrayal. You couldn’t even think about it. And Alphys had stabbed Undyne’s heart with her betrayal… leaving Undyne unable to even think about her. It had been too painful until now.

And now it was more painful than ever. What had she done? The smell of the dump tickled Undyne’s nares. She picked up her pace. Please, please, please!

How many years ago—five?—seven?—Undyne had come here looking for new and better weapons. Anything that wasn’t sharp, she could sharpen! Anything broken, she could fix! If she didn’t know how to fix it, she’d figure it out! Human stuff was the best—even their junk was better than most of the stuff monsters built.

But what she’d found that day hadn’t been junk at all. What she’d found had been an amazing monster with an incredible mind.

HEY! So where d’ya think it leads?

Ulp! Um… hello.

Hi! Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. Good thing people don’t leap forward when they get startled, huh? You could have fallen right in! Most folks leap straight up, if they leap at all.

Oh… yeah. Um… I was just… contemplating.

Were you contemplating where the water goes?

..Basically, yes! But, um, the short answer is… nobody knows! It falls closer to the center of the world. Did you know the whole world is round-shaped, like a ball?

No! Really? The whole world?

W-well, the planet we live in. We live really close to the surface, but the planet itself is eight thousand miles from one side to the other! Here, let me show you.

Undyne had found a big pole thing with a handle on the end—a lever or axle or something—and Alphys had drawn with it in the mud. It had been Undyne’s first glimpse of the nature of the world, and she was captivated. They’d talked for at least a quarter hour before even introducing themselves.

You know what’s funny? We’ve been talking all this time, and I don’t even know your name!

Oh! Yeah, that is a little funny, huh? I guess I tend to… be a little distant? I’m Alphys.

I’m Undyne! But you probably knew that already, didn’t you?

Um… no? Should I have?

You don’t know who I am? I’m the most powerful warrior in the Underground! Besides the king, of course. But I even beat him sometimes! He taught me to!

W… wow, really? That’s… really cool. I’m, uh, I’m an Assistant Royal Scientist. I’ve hardly ever talked with Asgore, though.

An assistant? Didn’t something happen to the Royal Scientist?

*gulp* Um, yeah, and the other assistant quit, and now I’m all alone in the lab… I’m hoping Asgore will hire me to replace him… I actually kind of, um… came here to think about it? There’s someone I know who might be willing to help… but… I’m not sure if I’m comfortable with it.

Why not? Are you the go-it-alone type who’ll never take help from anyone?

Well, not really… but there are… um, ethical questions? I probably shouldn’t talk about it.

Well, then, don’t! Keep talking to me about the place where the water goes! I haven’t been this interested in something theoretical for a long time!

S-sure! Well, what I got thinking about next is… if all this water pours away here, day and night, does that mean the surface will eventually run out of water? Usually, water systems are stable, meaning that the same water goes through in a cycle, over and over. So that made me think that somehow, the water that goes down there must come back up and rejoin the aquifers! Otherwise, we wouldn’t have any water left by now. But the question is, how? How could that much water defy gravity without the energy of the sun to make it evaporate? Unless maybe…

The waterfall was quiet. No glimpse of white and yellow by the brink. No thrumming machines or drawings in the mud. Just garbage.

There were footprints in the mud near the stream. Undyne ran, following them, hoping desperately for them to turn and lead somewhere other than the brink of the falls.

But that was exactly where they led. And there was no trail back.

Undyne roared. She broke down and pounded the mud. She heaved huge gobs of it over the side in anger. She seized huge pieces of garbage and crushed them, or twisted them to bits, or hurled them with angry cries into the void.

Then she realized that Alphys might actually still be alive down there. She had a jet pack phone! She could be falling a little at a time, taking things slow… and Undyne could have just spoiled it all by dropping a bathtub on her head.

She really needed to stop being an idiot. Undyne never thought of herself as an idiot, but the evidence was right there in front of her. She’d met Alphys at this very waterfall, staring down quietly into the blackness, contemplating. She’d seemed embarrassed to be caught there. Alphys had come just after losing someone really important to her—the old Royal Scientist—and was grappling with ‘ethical questions’ she wasn’t comfortable talking about.

And somehow, Undyne hadn’t realized she was suicidal until now?!

Alphys had been a flower who needed watering. She’d needed someone to treat her gently. To guide her in the right direction, open her up without touching any nerves, soothe her when she needed comfort. Someone to show her how much she was worth, to remind her how much she was loved, to talk her down whenever she was on the edge.

And what had Undyne done?

She’d called her up randomly to ask about the weather.

“Damn it, Alphys,” she muttered, kneeling in the mud. “You needed someone better than me. DAMN IT.”

“Yo… Undyne… are you… are you okay?” asked the lizard kid, standing fearfully nearby.

She slumped. “No. No, I’m not freaking okay. You should probably get out of here.”

“But I want to help! Is there anything I can do?”

“You can GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE, KID.”

“Dude!” said Guard 01, who’d just arrived on the scene.

“Dude!” replied the lizard kid.

“Dude,” said the guard, softly and meaningfully.

The kid nodded. “Dude.” He looked back at Undyne once more, then ran off, tripping once into the mud as he went.

Mettaton settled down nearby using his personal rocket. “No sign of her, I take it?”

Undyne gritted her teeth. “Goddamn footprints leading off the cliff. Mettaton, you think she might be okay down there? You’ve got a rocket, can you go after her?”

“Not for long, I’m afraid. This thing is a monster drag on my battery supplies.”

“Maybe she’s using her jetpack to stay near the top?”

“If I know Alphys, darling, she wouldn’t go at this halfway. She’ll have taken a leap of faith. And yes, it’s possible her phone might have kept her safe, but it’s unthinkable she’d be close enough for me to reach her. It’s a good thing she finally gave me the tools to maintain myself, or I’d be inclined to panic.”

“Didn’t you care about her?” Undyne hissed. “Didn’t she mean anything to you?”

“She meant a great deal to me,” said Mettaton. “She represented my weakness. I used to be nobody, and I was reminded of that every time I saw the good doctor. Undyne, you’re not planning to hit me again, are you?”

She took a moment to cool down. Would it do any good to hit Mettaton? “No,” she told him. “You’re not worth it.”

“I think I’ll take it upon myself to dispose of her possessions, if you don’t mind. Appendix A was a Last Testament, and we may as well carry it out faithfully. Do you mind if I broadcast the event? One doesn’t throw away a chance for ratings.”

Well, that would be tacky. But what else would she expect from Mettaton? “Knock yourself out. Just treat her memory with respect, okay? Or I’ll pull you apart one semiconductor at a time.”

“Understood, your supreme majesty. I would hate to die such a… tedious death!”

Undyne growled. “One QUARTER-conductor at a time!”

“Now, now!” he protested. “I’m going!”

She crawled to the edge and looked down. Pebbles and clods of dirt fell even as she watched. Alphys had told her a dozen theories about what was down there, and some of them were even nice. Her note hadn’t seemed very hopeful, but maybe Alphys really had found a better place for herself, down past the void. If she’d saved enough power in her phone, that was, and nothing had gone wrong. Undyne would almost certainly never see her again, but… maybe she could be happy somewhere else. Maybe she could even find someone better for her than Undyne ever was. That thought, at least, brought her a little solace.

A metal finger on her shoulder grabbed her attention. Royal Guard 02. “Yeah?” she snapped. “What is it?”

He extended an armored hand. “found this… over there.”

“What is it?”

His gauntlet opened to reveal a smashed cell phone. “…jetpack,” he said.

Alphys’s cell phone? Left behind!?

“Dammit,” said Undyne, falling to her knees and squinching her eyes shut. So much for solace.

That night, she sat alone in the coffin room with her knees hunched and chin slumped. She barely listened while the tape played.

“CORRECT,” said Mettaton, in his old rectangular form. “DR. ALPHYS HAS A CRUSH ON… THE UNKNOWABLE.”

Well, that was where she’d ended up.

“YOU SEE, ALPHYS BELIEVES THERE IS SOMEONE OUT THERE. SOMEONE WATCHING HER. SOMEONE SHE THINKS IS ‘CUTE’ AND ‘INTERESTING.’

That’s me, thought Undyne sullenly. And look what good it did her.

“HELLO, THEORETICAL PERSON. DR. ALPHYS LIKES YOU. TOO BAD YOU ARE NOT REAL.” A derisive sampler of laughter backed the zinger up.

“H-hey, I’ve done research about this!” Alphys protested. “There are alternate universes out there! S-someday, maybe, I could meet them…”

“YOU SAID THE EXACT SAME THING ABOUT ‘MEW MEW KISSY CUTIE.’ BUT I’LL GIVE YOU THE BENEFIT OF THE DOUBT. PERSON, IF YOU’RE OUT THERE… HOW ABOUT GIVING US A SIGN, RIGHT NOW?”

Undyne didn't break the silence.

“…THAT SETTLES THAT, DOESN’T IT?”

[%%%%^^^%%%%%%%%%%%%%%]

* * T H E   E N D * *

Chapter Text

 PART II: THE QUEST FOR A QUEEN

 Scene 22: Paying Respects

or

“Journey That Carries You Over a Disproportionately Short Distance"

(Ring, ring…)

“heya. is anyone there…?

“…well, i’ll just leave a message.

“so… it’s been a while.

“the queen returned, and attempted to resume ruling the underground. she enstated a new policy… all the humans who fall here would be treated not as enemies… but as friends. but people REALLY didn’t like that policy. because of you, not only was the king gone… but the human souls had gone missing as well. along with the life of…

“nobody wanted to see that happen ever again. so the people started a rebellion to overthrow the queen. undyne spearheaded the revolution, of course. she was pretty mad after what happened to asgore. she threw the queen out of the castle with her strength. then she became the empress of the underground… and banished the queen back to the ruins. seems like undyne’s… hmmm… even more vehement about destroying humanity than ASGORE.

“…but hey! it’s not all bad! when the queen went back to the ruins… i decided to go with her. and i took out some books from the library, too. so she won’t have to read the same ones. she’s a good roomie. we have a lot of fun.

“you know. sometimes the queen talks about… how she’d like to see you again. isn’t that nice? she knows you’re a murderer, but she wants to see you anyway. some people, huh?

“sometimes i want to grab her and yell. remind her that ‘cause she protected you… you went on to kill my brother. i don’t, though, because she’s a better person than i am. but that goes without saying.

“anyway, never come back here. you are not welcome. later.”

(Click.)

The crackling of the fire was like soft music. It tied one event to the next, much like a pot of tea tied a conversation together. There was no pressing need for Toriel to speak.

“…guess you probably heard that, huh?” asked Sans from the next room.

Toriel exhaled calmly and leaned back in her easy chair. “I heard every word.”

Her companion strolled in, flipped the phone around his hand, and set it carefully on the table. “i think you were right. i know i wasn’t too hot on the idea, but i do feel a little better.”

Toriel’s smile was knowing. “So do I, Sans.”

“yeah? in that case, it was probably worth it. but at the same time, i gotta confess. i don’t know if i want them to call back.”

Rather than reply, Toriel chose to let the fire do the talking for a while. It was crisp and active today, but not overpowering.

“i might say a few things you don’t want to hear. come to think of it, if they do call back, maybe i should take it in private.”

Toriel rocked forward. “That is your choice, but for what it is worth, I would prefer to hear your half of the conversation. You do not need to temper your feelings for my sake.”

He looked at her, his pupils hard to find. “you sure? ‘cause you still talk about that kid like you’re their mother, and there’s some things a mother shouldn’t hear.”

She felt her ears draw in close. “It is all right, Sans. I will not try to protect my child from your judgment. They are not mine to protect anymore.”

Now it was Sans’s turn letting the fire speak.

Some time passed. At last, he dropped a fist on the table. “who am i kidding? they’re not gonna call back, anyway.”

Toriel leaned from her chair to examine him. “How can you be so sure?”

He faced her. “if you were in their position… would you?”

Well. That was not an easy question to answer. If she had killed an innocent person on the surface, would she return a phone call accusing her of wrongdoing? At first she thought she must, for it would not do to evade her hour of reckoning, but then again… why would she have killed a person who posed no threat? Temporary madness? In such a situation, would she want to explain herself, or would it only salt the wound?

“never mind,” said Sans, watching her ponder. “don’t answer that. i shouldn’t have asked.”

It had been a reasonable question, and it was not unwelcome to have a quandary to ponder now and then. But Toriel let it go. She rose from her chair and set her hand on the skeleton’s shoulder. His loss, she knew, was greater than hers. She had known Asgore for longer than Sans had known Papyrus, true, but she had had centuries to get used to the fact that she had lost him… or rather, that he was never the monster she had imagined him to be. Sans’s life, on the other hand, had gone from carefree lackadaisy to tragedy in the space of hours.

“I am not really a better person than you, Sans. I hope that you know that.”

“nah. you are. top to bottom. floppy ears to fuzzy feet.”

“I am just an individual trying to make the best choices in life, and yet still making profound mistakes from time to time, despite having an embarrassment of life experience.”

Rather than get up to pat her back, Sans used his magic to conjure a wispy skeleton hand to do it instead. Toriel was unsure whether this was lazy or not. “tori. i appreciate you’re trying to cheer me up. but remember who you’re talking to. you’re a better person than me, tori. i know.”

In truth, Toriel did not put much stock in the notion of a ‘better person’ or ‘worse person’. To her, people were simply people. They had flaws and they had strengths, but all were equally important, and each person was the best in the world at being what they were supposed to be. Yet she understood what Sans meant. He was a judge. If anyone could gauge the goodness of a person, it was him, and he apparently saw things differently than she did.

She adored him. She wondered whether the distance between the two of them would break down in time, or whether it was an integral part of who he was. “You know, Sans… more than ever, I find myself wishing that I had known you sooner.”

He turned toward her slightly. “well. i was never a ton of fun, believe it or not.”

Toriel smiled wistfully. “Were you not? I had the sense that you were the life of the party.”

“maybe. and a heart keeps you going, if it beats often enough. but even when i was the life of the party… i never beat any more than i had to.”

Now Toriel was envisioning Sans as a giant heart. “I am thinking of something you said on the phone. Would… perhaps this is a foolish question, but… would you like to grab me, and yell at me for wanting to see the child again? I will not enjoy it, but I will not be upset, and I will not fight back. Would it make you feel better to do this?”

Slowly, Sans turned the rest of the way around to stare at her. Finally, he dropped his gaze. “tori. don’t ever change, okay?” With that, he got up and walked off to his room.

Toriel could not return to sitting. She walked out of the house and into town, where the colors and scents of the ruined old buildings served as a different kind of company for her thoughts.

As she was returning home, a large black spider scuttled up to her with a rolled up newspaper in its grip. It was not uncommon for the spiders to bring her a newspaper from Snowdin, but they did not do so regularly, for the spiders were limited by their supply of snowshoes in how many could cross the snow, and as there was no gap in the Ruins large enough to fit a newspaper through, they had to slide it through the cracks page by page and reassemble it on the other side.

Toriel stooped to take it. “A newspaper? Thank you! Would you like me to read it here?”

The spider shook its head, blinking its eight eyes. It hurried off.

Typically, the spiders only brought her the Snowdin Bugle when there was news of import, although sometimes this news was a relatively minor piece concerning spiders. She unrolled the paper and glanced at it.

She saw the word “SUICIDE”.

She saw a picture of Doctor Alphys.

Immediately, profound sorrow began to well in Toriel’s gut. Followed closely by the surging and familiar sense of I-have-done-the-wrong-thing-yet-again.

Rather than let these twin feelings wash over her, however, Toriel forced herself to read the full headline. “FIRED ROYAL SCIENTIST RELEASES DEFORMED PATIENTS, COMMITS SUICIDE—Fallen down monsters ‘amalgamated’ into grotesque compound beings, returned to families”.

Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no.

What good had Toriel’s return done? How had staking a claim for the throne helped anyone, in any way? Had she accomplished anything besides fostering division and forcing monsters to take sides?

Dr. Alphys had tried not to take sides, and she had died for it. Even that option had not been safe. Toriel felt her throat constricting at the idea that she had left this poor, timid scientist no choice that would have let her live with herself.

So that had been her secret. The patients. She could not offer a phone call to their loved ones because they had been merged with each other accidentally, and their loved ones would have known. Yet the monstrosity of whatever had led to the amalgamates existing barely registered against Toriel’s grief. This was not—this should not have been the end of the scientist, however mistaken her methods. Toriel had known she was hiding something, but had tried to be gentle and let it come out in time. Yet she had not had time, had she?

Toriel was such a fool. She was perhaps the oldest person in the world, and yet she could not help but handle things like a naive child.

Where was Napstablook and their cool gray shower of tears now? This was when she truly needed it. This was not like the news of Asgore’s death. That had been grief mixed with relief; this news brought her grief, regret, and nothing else.

How could Undyne live with herself at a time like this?

Toriel carried the newspaper back to her house. She did not read any more for now. There was too much to process, and she wanted to share it with Sans, anyhow.

Some time later, she knocked gently on his door. There was a short pause before his answer: “who’s there?”

“It is me, Sans. Will you please come out? Something terrible has happened.”

The door creaked open and the skeleton’s face peeked out. For once, there was no smile on it.

“Doctor Alphys,” she breathed. She showed him the newspaper.

He read for a few seconds, letting the spread of the pages hide most of his face. When he lowered it, his concerned expression stood in for words.

“I have read only the headlines, but that is enough to have upset me greatly,” explained Toriel.

She heard a faint exhalation. Sans did not breathe much, lacking lungs, but his natural magic did push the air around a little. “sorry, tori.”

She rubbed the corner of her eye. “I was beginning to think that we were building a friendship. I had been looking forward to getting to know her. To be honest, it was one of the things I was most fondly anticipating as queen.”

Sans looked glum. “i’m really sorry. it didn’t work out.”

Sympathy was one thing, but where was his own grief? “Sans, is that all you have to say? It did not ‘work out’?”

He shifted his gaze for a moment. “look, tori. i might have had a bit of a grudge with that lady. but that doesn’t mean your feelings don’t matter to me.”

Well, this was news. “So you are saying that her death brings you no sadness whatever?”

He looked distant.

Toriel took back the newspaper. “Please tell me the nature of this grudge.”

Sans looked miffed. “you don’t wanna hear it.”

“I would not have asked if I did not want to hear it,” replied Toriel crossly. Although it occurred to her that she had heeded Alphys’s warning about the fourth videotape.

He glowered at her. “she had cameras all over the underground. from snowdin forest all the way to the core. they’re gone now, but the official line was they were for helping to catch humans. you telling me the human made it all the way to her lab without her realizing they killed papyrus? or at the least, after the first time they met up, she didn’t go back and check the footage? she must have known, tori. but instead of capturing the human, she helped them. no fewer than four times on mettaton’s show. mettaton was at least pretending to try and capture them, but alphys? she was on the side of the human who killed my brother.”

This sounded like it could not be right. “I had heard that was an elaborate ruse.”

Sans shrugged. “if it was a ruse, it was meant to impress the kid, not capture them. i saw the last broadcast. mettaton laid it out pretty clear. alphys wanted to be a hero, so she talked mettaton into playing bad robot, good scientist. she wanted to be someone’s hero so badly she was willing to overlook murder.”

The flavor of Toriel’s grief was shaken again. She could not say it felt better to know that the life lost had belonged to someone so very flawed. In a way, it made the loss less tragic, but in another way, it was more tragic still. And yet… “Are you certain of this, Sans? Is this your professional assessment as a royal judge?”

Sans gave his head a little shake. “i never judged her. didn’t need to. and i’m not a royal judge anymore. i’m your judge, tori. you’re not royal anymore, so neither am i.”

Toriel felt a spike of tickled pride invade her sorrow… and while it did not triumph, it made inroads. “You still consider yourself to be working for me? Even though I have lost my position?”

“sure. i hung around, didn’t i? who else would i be working for?”

“Does that mean that if I ask you to judge someone, you will do so?”

“sure. who’ve you got in mind? whimsun’s been acting a little shady lately.”

“I was not thinking of anyone in particular. It is simply good to know.”

“yeah. and tori?”

“Yes, Sans?”

“someday, if we stay here together for a long time? i just might tell you why i’m so good at judging people. just… don’t try and get me to spill before i’m ready. ok?”

Toriel understood the weight of secrets. “I understand, Sans.”

“alright, then.”

She stood there in thought a while. Then she realized there was no reason to be standing. “Sans, I am going to read this article in the living room. If you would like to join me, I would value your company.”

“ok, tori. you go ahead without me. i’ll catch up.”

He would catch up, would he? As if the journey from the hallway to the living room were somehow arduous. She stepped through the foyer into the living room and, not entirely to her surprise, found Sans already sitting there in her easy chair, grinning.

She lowered her eyebrows. “Sans, this is not the time.”

“oh, sorry tori. am i in your chair? didn’t see your name on it, so i figured it was okay.”

Toriel had referred to it several times as her chair since Sans’s arrival, and once he had even asked whether he could sit in it. (She had graciously permitted him to do so.) She somehow found this violation humorous, but even laughter did not break her cloud of sorrow. That was as it should be, though. A person’s death should not be laughed away.

She waved Sans out of her chair before sinking into it herself. She magically adjusted the fire to burn quietly, then read the full article aloud. Sans chimed in here and there with an observation, but for the most part simply listened to Toriel read.

The newspaper described the nature of the amalgamates—their natural color lost within them, they were all a gelatinous white. They tended to have one dominant personality which was influenced incessantly by the others. “Sans? Can you imagine being combined with another person in the same body?”

“it’d be pretty weird, huh. only having half a body. or a quarter. or a tenth.”

“I should think so.”

“and it isn’t even as simple as ‘you get the leg, i get the arm,’ is it? these guys are mixed through and through. if any one of ‘em has a body, it’s made up of a billion little pieces, and they’re always moving around. am i right?”

Toriel read the staff account of the amalgamates more thoroughly. “I believe that you are right. How horrifying.”

Sans scooted forward. “does it say if they’re happy, tori? can anyone be happy, broken into a billion little pieces?”

She bit her lip, not fond of the way Sans was describing their condition. “Their reporters interviewed a spider amalgamate in Muffet’s lair who claims to be quite happy to have returned home.”

“what else does it say about the spider? will you read it to me?”

Toriel did not know why Sans was so eager to hear this, but she slowly and fully read the account of the spider known as Arachnamate. This creature spoke in sympathetic and glowing terms of Doctor Alphys, and reacted with great dismay upon being informed of her death. The reporter described how the compound spider cringed, flattening its thorax against the ground while covering its face with innumerable fiber-thin legs. “No, doctor, no!” it was quoted as saying. “I should have stayed with her. I should have stayed.”

Toriel took a moment to settle herself. “Well. Not as happy as you were hoping, I suppose.”

Sans shook his head, apparently cheered somehow. “no, tori. you don’t get it. that means they can still care for someone else. that means that even if you’re broken up into a billion pieces, it’s still possible to feel.”

Toriel shuddered. “So it seems. If I may ask, why does this interest you so much?”

“you can always ask anything you want, tori.”

She smiled tenderly. “I am glad to hear that.” It did not escape her that he had chosen not to answer.

Once enough silence had passed, she continued to read from the main article. “‘Alphys, who was trained as an electrical engineer, was hired by the previous Royal Scientist as an assistant ten years ago, and later appointed as his replacement when an accident claimed his life. She is best known for developing the popular Undernet, creating robotic television personality (and Royal Adviser) Mettaton, and advancing research on the nature of the soul. According to her notes, her last invention before her death was a device termed the ‘determinometer’, said to be capable of measuring the level of determination in any being’s soul. Determination, in the alchemical sense, is a quality that grants a soul cohesion and strength of will, and was apparently the key factor in the creation of the amalgamates. Humans are known to possess it in prodigious amounts, but Alphys’s research uncovered that it occurs naturally in certain monsters to a much smaller degree.’”

“how about that,” said Sans. “wonder if i’d turn out to have any.”

Toriel was amused by the notion, as well as being impressed once again at the ingenuity and industry of the poor experimenter. This person had accomplished so much for the Underground, yet had failed to recognize her own value. “Do you imagine that you have determination, Sans?”

He shrugged. “probably just one.”

“…One determination?”

“one unit of it. however much that is. it seems about right.”

Toriel chuckled and kept reading. “‘Alphys had no living relatives. Empress Undyne has expressed remorse over her firing, and has declared that a day-long funeral and celebration of Alphys’s life will be held on—’ Oh, it will be tomorrow.” She sat in thought, working herself up for the question she knew she had to face.

“you want to go to her funeral, tori?”

Yes, that one. “I am not sure. On the one hand, I would very much like to pay my regards, and to hear what others have to say about her. On the other hand, I am afraid that it would cause too much commotion for the exiled queen to return from exile.”

“you could disguise yourself. i’ve got a fake mustache you can borrow.”

Toriel laughed in embarrassment. “Oh, Sans!”

“i’m serious. wear glasses and a mustache. sure, you won’t fool anyone. but they’ll know you’re trying to fit in. most of them probably won’t bother you.”

The idea seemed patently ridiculous. “What if we simply send word to Undyne that I would like to attend the funeral?”

“that’d work too. but i’d still go with the glasses and mustache, just in case.”

Toriel walked around the table and hugged Sans from behind. “You are just too much. Do you know that?”

“oops. sorry, toriel. i’ll try and be lazier from now on.”

“That is not what I meant and you know it.”

“yeah. guess i did.”

“I suppose you would rather stay here, given that you are not fond of the deceased?”

“if it were just me, i wouldn’t bother. but if you want someone to keep you company…?”

Toriel smiled, her ears rising. “You are too kind, Sans! And by that, I mean that you are exactly kind enough, not that you should be less kind.”

“got it. thanks for clarifying.”

“I would be glad of your company tomorrow. And while I will not wear a mustache, I think that I may take your advice and wear some sort of disguise. If only I were not so large! Perhaps a veil?”

“what about a hoodie? just flip up the hood and pull it tight, no one’s gotta see your face.”

Toriel imagined herself in a hoodie and nearly cracked up. “Do you know, Sans? I think that is an excellent idea.”

“seriously? you know i just throw stuff out there, right? i don’t expect most of it to stick.”

“When it comes to hooded fashion, would you say I am more of a turquoise, or a burgundy?” asked Toriel, showing herself off.

“for this trip? definitely turquoise. burgundy looks too much like blood. and you wouldn’t want to accidentally make a statement.”

She nodded; that made perfect sense. Every day, Sans turned out to be useful in some way she would never have expected. “In that case, there is no time to rest. I have got some sewing to do!”

“i’ll be right here. let me know if you need anything.”

This was good, actually. For centuries, Toriel’s life had been snailishly slow, punctuated only briefly by vivid periods in which she had a child to raise. Recently, things had sped up exponentially, then come to a head… and now, with shocking abruptness, she was back to a quiet life. It was therefore good to have a task to ease her back into domesticity. Working into the wee hours on a hooded sweater was not characteristic of a bucolic lifestyle, but neither was it reigning over the Underground. And Toriel believed that any life change was best made gradually.

She finished the project in time to get a few well-earned hours of sleep. And she fell asleep grinning. In a way, this sweater was her gift to Alphys. True, Alphys would never see her wearing it, but it would enable her to pay her respects… and when it came down to it, there was really nothing else one could do for the dead.

“i made a decision last night,” said Sans over breakfast. They were eating lightly seared water sausages and spider biscuits, with no fire in the fireplace.

“Oh? Do tell.” Toriel relished this sort of talk—two people, enjoying the same routine, informing each other of their inner lives one decision at a time. She only wished they were not in such a rush today, but if they did not leave soon they would miss the start of the funeral.

“when we go to the castle… i’m gonna take off on my own for a while. you’ll be okay for an hour or two, right?”

The question chilled Toriel. “I will be able to take care of myself,” she replied. “After all, I was prepared to go alone. But what will you be doing?”

Sans’s grin was empty. “i’m gonna judge the empress.”

Toriel lowered her eyebrows. “You will? For what reason?”

“can you think of anyone better to judge? she threw you out, tori. she literally threw you out of your own castle. don’t you want to know why she did it?”

“She did it because she did not approve of me, or of my policy concerning humans.”

“maybe. or maybe she did it for power. if i’m going to be your judge, i want to help you find peace with what happened.”

“Do you really think Undyne was simply hungry for power?”

“i don’t know. but wouldn’t it feel better to know her reasons were honest?”

Toriel reflected. “I suppose it would. Very well, Sans. As your… boss? …I command you to judge Empress Undyne. ...What relationship do I bear to you, anyway?”

“boss is fine with me. you’re a boss monster, after all.”

“That is true! I suppose I may as well stay in practice.”

“it shouldn’t take too long, anyhow. it’s actually not the first time i’ve judged her.”

How intriguing. “No? When did you judge her before?”

“when she made captain. feels like a long time ago.”

Toriel leaned forward. “Do not leave me in suspense, Sans. What judgment did you render?”

He faced her directly. “i told her she was driven. which is true. i told her her story wasn’t over yet. which was true. turns out she wasn’t done rising through the ranks.”

“I thought you normally only judged a person once,” said Toriel.

“i do. but this isn’t a normal situation. if i’m ever gonna judge someone twice, i figure it should be the person who overthrew the crown and claimed the kingdom.”

A thought occurred to Toriel. “Will the people listen to you? If you happen to find that her reasons were selfish, will they be moved to reconsider being her subjects?”

He sagged. “i doubt it. it’s not like anyone knows i’m the judge. not even undyne knew it was me judging her the first time. i did it in shadow.”

“So you are not doing this to win me back the loyalty of the monsters?”

“nah. i don’t think i could do that. like i said, tori. i’m just doing it for your peace of mind.”

It was incredibly flattering for someone to care so deeply about her peace of mind. Toriel had to admit that after the monsters had failed to protect her from being overthrown, she was not certain she wanted to rule anymore. But to have peace of mind… yes, that would be a great comfort during the endless years ahead.

They finished breakfast quickly and Toriel ducked into her room to change into her turquoise hoodie. She came out tugging the sleeves straight. “Well, Sans? What do you think?”

He regarded her with focused white pupils. “tori. you look amazing.”

She smirked. “I am not trying to look amazing. I am trying to blend in!”

“that’s what i meant. you look like you’re gonna blend in amazingly well.”

Of course that was what he had meant. Toriel scoffed good-naturedly and led the way down into the tunnel.

It was always portentous when she saw these walls. The one exception had been the recent, brief period during which she had come this way regularly to exchange jokes with Sans. Aside from that, whenever she walked this hall, she was either about to leave the confines of her home for some important reason—she never left due to mere caprice—or she was returning from such a trip; or worse, she was about to confront one of her human children who desired, for whatever reason, to escape her nest. Toriel did not like these purple walls.

She considered saying as much to Sans, but decided to remain silent. There would be plenty of time to make that observation and many, many others over the years. In time, there would be little about herself that she would not tell to Sans, and since they would have chiefly only each other as company for the long and foreseeable future, there was certainly no rush. Perhaps there would come a time when Sans, too, would have little that he would not tell Toriel. For the present, he was a creature of secrecy, with thick defenses… but over time, how could that not yield? If Sans could eventually be enticed to drop his shield and show his true self to Toriel… well, would that not be worth living for? Indeed, she would look forward eagerly to such a future.

They came to the outer doors, the sound of wind audible beyond them. Toriel put up her hood and tucked in her ears. She took a deep breath. “For Alphys,” she declared.

“for alphys,” echoed Sans. Yet Toriel knew that he was doing it for her, not for the memory of the departed scientist. She was content with that.

She pushed open the doors and faced a bluster of snow. At least the wind was not in her face. But it was bitterly cold, and she was tempted to simply return home, put on a kettle of tea, and bake some cookies. Still, life was made of more than easy moments. How unsatisfying it would be if every moment in life were easy! So Toriel bore up, breathed in through her nose, and trudged into the cold, frozen forest.

Sans shut the doors behind her with a double thunk. She heard him made a noise—a sudden intake of breath. She stopped walking.

Sans wasn’t moving. Apart from the wind, there was silence. For some reason, Toriel was afraid to look back.

“Sans?” she asked. "What has happened?”

It was too long before he answered. “tori?”

“Yes, Sans?”

“…i know you’ve been through a lot of big life changes lately.”

Her nervousness was growing, but still she did not look back. “…Yes?”

“…and i really don’t want to make you go through another one. but…”

“…Yes, Sans?”

“…but i really think you ought to look back and to your left.”

These words cut like a shard of ice. Look back? How could simply looking back change a person’s life? And in a major way, no less? Whatever it was, would it fail to harm her if she did not look? If she wished to continue her life as she knew it—humble, yes, but hopeful—should she simply trudge on and ignore Sans’s peculiar words?

Yet to look was harmless, was it not? To look could do nothing but give her information. It was up to her whether to act on that information. And if it was the sort of choice that was made for her… the sort of choice that was no choice… then the right choice was the only choice.

Having so reasoned, Toriel determined to look. She peered back over her left shoulder…

“OH MY GOD,” said Toriel.

In the snow, face up, wrapped in a blanket and frozen stiff, lay a small figure.

It was Dr. Alphys.

What she she doing here? How was she alive? No. That didn’t matter. Toriel barged forward and picked up the all-too-cold body. A piece of paper fluttered from her yellow hand—“RUINS OR BUST” was all that was written on it.

“welp, here we go,” said Sans.

…

Fire. Soothing, warming fire through her hands. “Open the doors!” she ordered sharply. Sans did, and Toriel strode through, seeing the purple walls so soon again—so soon, yet they had been portentous, had they not? Fireballs, lobbed angrily at the ceiling to warm this place up, this wretchedly cold corridor. Be warm! I am telling you, warm up—I have a life to save! Toriel touched the frigid face, the face that was not yet dust. The sound of Sans’s footsteps behind her vanished. As she walked, she rubbed the scaled features with her muzzle, her cheeks, her face. She blew warm air onto them. She removed the doctor’s spectacles and placed them in her single long pocket. Her feet led her through the inner doors. She kissed the yellow snout. “Doctor, please stay with us,” she whispered. “Please stay. Please stay. Your life has value. Your life has value.”

“SANS!” she bellowed back along the hallway.

“two steps ahead of you,” came his voice from up ahead.

Toriel marched up the staircase, bearing her burden as if it were part of her. Sans was in the living room with a supply of towels. Toriel carried Alphys in and set her down near the fireplace. The living room. What better place to ensure life continues? She threw a dozen tiny sparks into the fireplace—several of them caught and a fire started to grow. Toriel unwrapped the felt blanket, stretch by stretch. A backpack fell out. She removed the white labcoat, only to expose a black polka-dotted dress over a set of thermal pajamas; these she removed too. Alphys lay almost naked on the rug, left in only a pair of red panties. Toriel took the towel Sans provided and dried off the doctor’s scales, moving swiftly, still pouring heat through the skin of her hands. The snout twitched; the chubby toes came next.

“—hhhngghhh—”

“You may rest for now, doctor. I am warming you. If you become too hot, please let me know by wiggling your foot. I am not familiar with how to treat hypothermia in reptiles, but I am assuming that it is better to keep you dry for now. If not, we have water available. Know that you are loved. Know that you are valued.” Toriel ran her hands over the doctor’s sides, her belly, her chest, her back. She was growing tired from the use of so much magic, but knew she would have time later to rest.

Sans was standing there. “does she need anything else? food, maybe? or—”

Toriel was filled with rage. “Were you simply going to leave her there, Sans? If I had refused to look back?”

He was silent.

Toriel returned to her patient’s care. Why was she here? It did not matter. How had she allowed herself to grow so cold? No, that did not matter either. She moved her hands smoothly over Alphys’s legs, one at a time, her tail, her arms. The lizard’s head shook—it must be nerves, since reptiles did not shiver for warmth. Or was Alphys different?

“I-I-I… I’m, uh, I’m uh…”

“You will be safe,” said Toriel. “Are you too warm?” The fire was roaring now.

Alphys shook her head.

“Know that you are valued,” said Toriel again. “Know that you are loved.” She wrapped Alphys again in her blanket, which Sans had dried at the fire.

“Y-Y-Y-You found me,” said Alphys.

“Yes,” said Toriel. “We found you.”

“I-I-I… I g-g-guess I did s-s-something p-p-pretty s-stupid, h-h-huh?”

“Shhh,” Toriel said, placing a finger over her patient’s snout. “Time enough for that later. For now, what is important is that you are comfortable. Are you too hot? Too cold? Are you thirsty or hungry? Do you feel safe?”

Alphys lay back with her eyes open wide. “M-my gl-glasses,” she said.

“I have them here,” Toriel reassured her. “Would you like me to tuck you into bed?”

Alphys nodded spasmodically. Toriel held her chin gently to calm her, then carried her into Toriel’s own bedroom. Sans pulled back the blankets, and Toriel set Alphys down and brought them up again. She placed a hand on her patient’s forehead. “Dr. Alphys, I must ask a personal question. Are you warm-blooded, or cold-blooded?”

Alphys looked surprised for a moment. “I—I’m ectothermic…”

“That means cold-blooded, correct? In that case, I suspect it is safe to let you sleep. Your core temperature will not drop. Am I correct?”

Alphys nodded weakly. “I should… I should tr-tr-try to sleep…”

Toriel patted her gently on the head and stepped away from the bed. “I will stay with you. I will remain here until you are well.”

“O… okay.”

Toriel loomed over the foot of the bed. “Dr. Alphys,” she said for the third time. “Know that you are loved. Know that you are valued. Do you understand?”

Alphys nodded several times, eyes wide.

“Good. Go to sleep, doctor. I will have Sans heat up some pie for when you awaken.”

“B-b-but—but—”

Toriel stared. “Are you uncomfortable?”

Alphys shook her head.

“Then we will save conversation for later. Go to sleep.”

The doctor shut her eyes and was asleep within a few minutes. Toriel stood there watching, hands grimly folded.

“i knew you were going to look back,” said Sans, beside her.

Toriel did not so much as glance at him. “And if I had not?”

Sans was silent.

[++++++++++++++++++++++]

Chapter Text

 Scene 23: A Better Choice, However Marginal

or

“Reunited”

ALPHYS WAS a schoolgirl, dressed to a tee in her cream-colored uniform with a red sash. As every day, she nearly danced along the road to school, greeting street vendors she knew, following her classmates as they gossiped and laughed. She was the misfit, with her chunky figure and yellow tail and scaly body, but that was okay. That just gave her something to overcome! She was already making friends with an ambitious girl called Ritsuko, who was in turn determined to become popular, and if Alphys could help her do that, maybe that would help her become popular herself! She knew that even though the other girls didn’t have tails or scales and were all so graceful in their uniforms, they could learn to care about Alphys in time, because Alphys would keep trying to make friends and never give up! Eventually, they would see how beautiful she was on the inside and no one would care about the way she looked, and they’d all be a big happy gang together. Besides, she was good at school, and she liked her classes, and the sun was shining so brightly…

But the harbor was brilliant green, and the water sparkled and smelled of fresh life, and the fishermen’s boats were surrounded by leaping saury and mackerel. And fathoms below the surface, Alphys was a mermaid. She wore a seashell brassiere even though she didn’t have breasts, just for the fashion of it, but was otherwise bare. She was constantly amazed by the speed she could attain with a few easy flips of her powerful tail. The fishing boats were her enemies, but she didn’t want anyone to get hurt, so she only sabotaged them in subtle ways that would make their outriggers collapse or their trawls break apart, and in extreme cases, she and her fellow merfolk would sink fishing boats in the quay at night. There were rules against meeting humans, but so far as Alphys knew, everyone broke them, because all her friends had their favorite spots for meeting humans at the shore, or under a bridge, or at the seaside railing of some swanky restaurant. That was where Alphys liked to go. There was a young man there who liked to bring women to the restaurant and see how far he could seduce them in one night… and when they were gone, he would lean over the metal fence and chat with Alphys, and she’d do her best to find out what he really wanted in life. Because it couldn’t just be night after night of meaningless conquest! He was far too special for that. Maybe, she suggested, what he really wanted was a life at sea? At first, he’d laughed it off, but now he was starting to take the idea seriously… and the full moon shone so big and bright…

For over the sea, after all, were enormous lands with mountains in the distance and seas of flowers, and there were elegant dome-shaped manor houses with paths leading through their huge, proud gardens and overlooking moss-covered rocky bluffs, and in the center of it all stood the cone-shaped tower of the countess. And Alphys was a courtier. She had a selection of finery to choose from each day, and a different wardrobe to choose from at night, for no one wore the same thing both morning and evening. There were gold brocades and orchid sequin skirts and translucent gowns designed to wear one over another, and while most of the ladies wore elegant soft-soled shoes, Alphys alone chose to go barefoot, and that was what she was known for. She knew snippets of all the intrigues at court, but went out every dusk to learn more—through artfully carved internal windows in the tower, or through hedges in the garden, she overheard talk, and chose wisely the exact moment to join in. A certain foreign courtier known as Jamshid Shir-Del had been talking recently about starting a new religion, and Alphys thought she just might be able to help… and the sun at twilight was so glorious…

Nighttime settled over the world like a blanket, and Alphys rose in awareness through it… until it was real, more real than she had expected it to be, and she realized that she was clutching the edge of a blanket, and that she was dreaming, and that she was about to wake up. Then fear returned to her, because she remembered suddenly that real life was a frozen nightmare, and that when she had fallen into dreams, she had been about to die.

It wasn’t cold, though. Deep inside, she still felt a lump of coldness… but the room was warm, and her scales were warm, and she was in a bed far too large for her, and there was a pillow beneath her head far softer than anything she had ever bought herself. She wondered what had happened. She sat up.

A figure was sitting in a chair at the foot of the bed. As Alphys moved, the figure jerked to attention. Through the darkness, she could almost recognize…

Oh! It was the queen! Now Alphys remembered. She’d come to see the queen, but had been unable to get through the door in the forest, and slowly she’d come to accept that she would die there, and that perhaps someday the queen would come out of her home and find a pile of dust waiting for her—or perhaps she would have blown away by then. But the queen… oh gosh, the queen had found her in time to save her life!

Alphys had no idea what to say. How much did she owe this monster? How many apologies? Her memories swam.

“Good afternoon, Dr. Alphys!” The voice was friendly… that felt nice. “I am very glad to see you awake.”

What do you say at a moment like this? The words, the social niceties just weren’t coming to Alphys. “You saved me.”

“Yes. You were unconscious in the snow, and very cold, and I was afraid you were going to die. But I brought you in and saved you.”

Now a familiar phrase found its way to Alphys’s lips, along with a familiar emotion. “I’m s-sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Toriel’s ears turned slightly, as if to wonder what Alphys was sorry about. That was a good question, wasn’t it?

“I… I know you probably…” She swallowed. “…don’t think much of me. I’m sorry that I made you save me. It probably… didn’t feel very good, did it?”

The tall monster’s hands unclasped. She looked simply at Alphys, her eyes gleaming in the low light.

Alphys remembered something she seemed to recall hearing over and over. Know that you are valued. Know that you are loved. “Wait. Did you… tell me that I… am valued?”

“So you do remember! We spoke briefly before you fell asleep.”

“D-did we? I don’t actually remember that at all. I must have been only s-semiconscious.”

Toriel peered. “You used the word ‘ectothermic.’”

Alphys chuckled. It hurt. “Well, that’s me, I guess. Always with the big words.”

The queen took a step forward. Was that… a hoodie she was wearing? “Then allow me to clarify. It was not in any way unpleasant to save you, Dr. Alphys. It was a great joy.” Her tone was surprisingly dry for what she was saying. “Do you know why my companion and I left the ruins this morning, thus affording us the chance to save you?”

“N-no?”

“Of course you do not. Forgive me. It was because we were going to your funeral, doctor. We believed that you were dead.”

What? “Oh. Yeah. I… that’s kind of f-funny, actually. I never imagined the news would reach you here. I just… I wanted everyone back home to think I’d jumped over the waterfall, into the abyss… I wrote a note… but I never actually said that’s what I was doing.” She felt sickly, thinking back on it now. “I never actually said I was going to kill myself… just that I was going away to a… a b-better place.”

“Yet you led them all to believe that you were dead.”

Was that wrong? Alphys hated being guilty of wrongdoing in the presence of the queen. “Either th-that, or… in another world below this one, where… things are different.”

“At the capital, they are holding a funeral for you as we speak.”

Alphys swallowed. She felt guilty for not being dead. “I doubt many monsters will show up.”

Toriel stepped to her bedstand and picked up a newspaper. “I am forced to disagree. It is an affair of state. The festivities began at nine.” She examined the paper. “There was a parade at eleven. The homilies began at noon. Empress Undyne delivered the benediction at half past one, if this schedule is to be believed. It is now a quarter to three, which means that the families of your patients, the amalgamates, are currently giving their testimonials. At half past three, the Undernet gaming tournament, whatever that is, will start. And at six, Mettaton will host a two hour special broadcast extravaganza in your honor.”

Oh god. Really? “A… are you serious? An all-day thing, just… just for me?”

Toriel handed her the newspaper, along with her glasses. “If I were you, doctor, I would be somewhat embarrassed.”

Undyne. She was in charge now. She must have made all this happen. “So Undyne really did love me!”

“I have no doubt of that. Still, one person cannot orchestrate a festival alone. Surely, there are many, many people who cared about you. And they are remembering you now, and wishing that you were still with them.”

Alphys felt like the trash she was. Except, if she was trash… why did they all care? It didn’t make sense. “I’m sorry I made you miss the funeral,” she said. “It sounds like a lot of fun.”

Toriel stared at her in disbelief. Oops. Had Alphys said the dumbest thing ever again?

“It is a pity that I will not get the chance to show off my new hoodie,” admitted Toriel. “I sewed it especially for the occasion. But you cannot imagine I would be happier there than I am at the current moment.”

“You don’t seem happy,” objected Alphys.

“That is because I am trying to impress on you how irresponsible you have been.”

“Oh.”

“The truth is, I am ebullient,” she went on harshly. “I am swimming in happiness. Unlike any of the mourners, I am privy to the truth—the fact that happily—happily!—you still live. Doctor, I am immensely grateful that you considered coming to visit me a better choice, however marginally, to jumping into a bottomless pit.”

When she put it like that, it really did seem like a no-brainer, didn’t it? “I actually w-was going to jump into the pit,” she confessed. “That was my plan, all while I was bringing the Amalgamates home. People were y-yelling at me and calling me horrible things all day, and they… and they were right, and I figured I deserved to, um… die. But in the end, one of the amalgamates, uh, Arachnamate, wanted to stay with me. It wanted to go home more than anyone, but at the same time, it d-didn’t want to leave me. I guess that… woke me up to the idea that… maybe I was worth something? And when I made it go home anyway, I w-watched as it went back into its cozy home, with all its family so happy to see it… and I wished I could m-m-maybe have something like that for myself. I never had a family, though, and I didn’t think there was a-anyone in the world who’d be happy to see me. B-but then I thought of you… and how you were so nice to all those children…”

Toriel’s expression seemed to soften. It was hard to tell with the room so dark.

“I know we only met a couple times, aside from the phone conversations, but… something about you just… made a big impression on me, I guess,” Alphys went on. “And I thought you might be l-lonely, wherever you’d gone back to… and I guess I thought, maybe there was a… s-s-small chance I could help?” Did she really have to say this next part? Do you want to come clean or don’t you? “…Even though I helped Undyne against you,” she finished.

Toriel smiled. “You were very thoughtful to think of me! As it happens, I am not alone here. I have a companion. But if you would like to dwell in the ruins, doctor, you will be more than welcome. There are numerous small monsters who also live here, and while they are not much for conversation, they are still company, and they even produce things worth buying, now and then. Moreover, there are plenty of old buildings that nobody lives in anymore, and I am sure you could fix one of them up to be your new home.”

Alphys smiled. “Y… you’re not mad at me?”

The boss monster grew serious. “Alphys. …May I call you simply by your name, without your title?”

“Huh? Of course.” You’re the queen, after all, she almost said, remembering just in time that it wasn’t true anymore.

“At present, Alphys, any anger I may hold for you is secondary to how I feel. You see, I am overjoyed that you are still alive! And the prospect that I may soon have you as a neighbor tickles me further.”

Alphys felt tears of relief welling up. She hadn’t expected the queen she’d wronged to react this way. “I’m sorry just the same,” she cried. “I gave Undyne those blasters her army used in the battle. She pr-probably wouldn’t have won without those.”

Toriel’s face hardened. “For a while, I feared that blaster had destroyed my friend and companion. But the battle was not one of weapons. It was for the people’s hearts. The question was whether the monsters of the Underground would suffer a usurper to hurl the queen out of her own castle. And while I believe that it was close… in the end, they did. No amount of force on either side would have altered that.”

Alphys wasn’t so sure—she knew the psychological effects weapons could have. But she didn’t argue. “And I lied to you about not believing you were the real queen. Somehow, I—I knew it from the start. There’s just something… regal about you!”

“Why thank you, Alphys. As it happens, I was aware you were hiding your true motives. I simply did not know what they were, until I read this newspaper account.” The former queen gestured to the folded paper in Alphys’s lap. Alphys would have to read it herself. She wasn’t looking forward to it.

“It was true about their bullet patterns and speech changing,” she pled. “I tried to be as h-honest as I could, without… giving myself up.”

“Yet in the end, you had to give yourself up anyway,” observed Toriel.

“Yes,” said Alphys, her features falling. “I did the wrong thing.”

“I was afraid that I had done the wrong thing, when I read that you committed suicide,” said Toriel. “If I had pushed less… if I had not pried with those final questions at our dinner… perhaps I would not have broken your will. I should have realized that you were in a fragile state.”

The idea that the queen had been wrong to do it upset Alphys. “N-no, you were right! You tried to get to the bottom of things. Asgore always let it go… but you actually wanted to…” How could she put it? “…to make sure that the right thing got done. And look—I didn’t kill myself!” She set her hands on her chest—it was surprisingly nice to feel how solid she was. “I came here, instead!”

“And if Arachnamate had not shown you compassion in those final hours?”

Alphys reflected. “Then I…. guess I might be dead now. The truth is, I almost died anyway, just due to my own stupidity. I went to the edge of the waterfall to leave footprints, and then I took off with the jetpack in my phone to fly to Snowdin… but I was too o-overwhelmed with emotion and lost control of the phone, and I dropped it when I was still thirty feet up, and I was just barely able to land in the water. I c-climbed out and decided to just, um, walk to Snowdin. But I… I was still a little wet when I got there, and I didn’t want to stay at the inn in case someone talked to them later and realized I’d been there, so I just… kept trucking.” She looked over and saw a wardrobe—were her clothes in there? “And it t-turned out I hadn’t really dressed warmly enough for Snowdin. I thought three layers of clothes plus a blanket would be enough! But a b-blizzard came up, and the road was longer than I remembered, and when I finally reached the purple doors in the forest… they were locked, and no one answered when I knocked. I kept knocking, and tried yelling a little, but since my blowtorch app had been in my phone, I didn’t have any way in! So I, um. I just kept knocking until I couldn’t stand up any longer, and then I rested a while to get back my strength, and…” She shivered at the memory of the snowstorm… at the feeling of her energy leaving her.

“Then we have both made mistakes, and we are both fortunate,” said Toriel.

“Fortunate?” asked Alphys. It was true, she did feel fortunate to still be alive, but Toriel had lost everything. How was she fortunate?

“Do you not feel fortunate? You are in a warm bed and a warm home, and you are safe. As for me, I count myself very fortunate that I did not inadvertently play a part in ending yet another life. Indeed, just yesterday I was saying to Sans that one of the things I had most looked forward to as queen was getting to know you further. And now, against all the odds, I find myself with that very opportunity!” She smiled so warmly it couldn’t be mistaken, even in the near darkness. “I count myself as a very fortunate woman indeed.”

Alphys shivered. Not from fear, she realized, but excitement. “You wanted to… get to know me? But… why? All I did was obstruct you from learning the truth!”

“Oh dear! Is that how our conversations felt to you? I am terribly sorry. It is reassuring to know that you do have a conscience when it comes to falsehood, and that lying is a burden to you. But leaving what you could not tell me aside, I was happy simply to have your company and your thoughts.”

Alphys remembered thinking of Toriel as a frightening new threat in her life, an intimidating figure. But now… it was beginning to look like they were no longer adversaries, and Alphys was amazed how terrific that felt. “I… I really wanted to be your friend. I wanted to tell you everything.”

Toriel paused to consider before speaking.

“Perhaps you should think of your being here as the beginning of a new life,” she suggested. “You may wish to imagine that you have been reborn, clean and fresh, here in the catacombs. You have no sins upon you, if you choose not to bear them. You are a good person, if that is what you decide to be. There does not need to be any ill will between us, doctor. I am willing to be your perfect friend, if you will be mine.” She stepped forward hopefully.

This was too much. No, not too much. It was just right. Alphys couldn’t have hoped for things to go better… aside from nearly freezing to death. It would have been better to show up, smiling and humble, at the front door to ask for forgiveness, as she’d planned. But the idea of starting again, of being reborn, seemed almost too painfully good to be true. Of course, it wasn’t true—she was still the same mess of a person she ever was, but… if her only neighbors accepted that she was someone new, it was almost as good as true, wasn’t it?

“I’m sorry,” she blurted. “I’m sorry for everything.”

“I do not want your apologies,” said Toriel cheerfully. “I have no use for them!”

“But… b-but I want to get them out of me! I’m sorry for so many things… and if I’m going to begin a new life, I need to clean out all the dirty, horrible parts and try to… try to start with a clean slate…”

Toriel walked forward and hugged Alphys. It was just like their hug in the castle… but better, because now Alphys wasn’t afraid. Toriel’s embrace smelled like the bedsheets, which made sense, because this was her bed, wasn’t it? She was strong and fluffy and solid and… just the right shape for hugging… and this wasn’t the beginning of a crush, was it? Tell me this isn’t a crush!

The hug was gentle, though, and in no way crushing. “You would do well to save your apologies, Alphys. For while I have no use for them, it is possible that my companion and housemate may. I did mention that we are not alone here, yes?” She stood watchfully beside the bed while Alphys looked up questioningly. “As it happens, Alphys, you and I have something in common. My housemate bears a grievance against us both. For either of us could have stopped the human child with the narrow eyes from marauding across the Underground, but neither of us did so. And for that reason, we must consider the possibility that the dust of their victims is on our hands.”

Of course it was. Of course it was. That was the biggest, the most absurd and terrible of Alphys’s sins, and it had been stupid to think she could just wipe it away and forget about it. Of course it had caught up to her here. “Y-you’re right. It is. I’m sorry, Toriel. I can’t be reborn. I’m too filthy. I’m a… I’m just a piece of…”

“Hush.” Again came the comforting arms as Toriel stooped, though her embrace this time was brief and light. “We will let my companion be the judge. After all, that is his position! And while I lost the person who was once most important to me, he has suffered a much fresher and harder loss. For his brother was the most important person in his life.”

His brother? That could only mean… “Sans,” Alphys whispered. Now she remembered hearing his voice while lying helpless in the living room.

“Yes, he is the one who came with me into exile. And he will want you to answer for what you have done.”

Alphys gulped. Of course it had been too good to be true. Forgiveness doesn’t just come like that. “O-okay. I’ll answer.”

“If you are still feeling weak, you do not have to do so right away,” Toriel reassured. “You may sleep further if you wish. Moreover, there is pie for you!”

Pie did sound good. “Um… well… I’ll have a slice of that, then… and I guess I’ll… read this newspaper… and then, if he really wants to, I’ll let Sans put me through the wringer.”

Toriel winced at the metaphor, but didn’t contradict Alphys. “Very well. I will be right back with your pie. …You will not turn up your nose at butterscotch, will you?”

As if Alphys was in any position to turn up her nose. The idea was kind of funny, actually. “Haha! Don’t worry! I would never turn up my nose at anything you bake.”

Toriel seemed to light up. “Never?” Her smile grew mischievous. “In that case, I will be sure to put that to the test! But for now, I will be right back with your pie.”

Alphys held her hands nervously together. She got the sense she’d given Toriel a treat none of her human children had ever given her— carte blanche with baking! But if things didn’t go well with Sans, did that mean she wouldn’t ever get to come back? She wasn’t ready to say goodbye.

Toriel delivered the pie as lovingly as she knew how, then left Alphys to eat, read, and ready herself. She walked swiftly back to the living room. Sans was waiting by the bookcase, paging idly through a history book; Toriel suspected he was not really reading.

“how’s the doc?” he asked.

“I am relieved. She seems to be well.”

“what’d you talk about?”

What, indeed? They had touched a bit on everything, so it seemed. “I explained to her that she is being honored in the capital as we speak. And that I will be glad to have her for a neighbor, once she is ready to build a home of her own.”

“neighbor, huh? so she’s here for keeps?”

“She did not seem interested in returning to the outside world, although we did not discuss it directly.”

There was the briefest flash of blue in Sans’s eye. “i don’t suppose we have any say in that, do we?”

He was angling at ejecting her from the Ruins. Toriel found herself incensed, but suppressed it. “If she chooses to rehabilitate a dwelling in Home, we can hardly prevent her. We do not own the entire city.”

“we don’t, huh? good to know. i mean, i almost thought you were queen here.”

Aplomb, she told herself. Aplomb and decorum. How you handle this issue with your companion will color your interactions for a long time to come. “If I were queen here, Sans, would I have to pay for my purchases of sugar and flour? I consider myself simply the ward of the Ruins. I am its gatekeeper, yes, and I tend the flowers, for which the small monsters give me a certain amount of purchasing credit. But I am not their ruler.”

Sans processed this in silence. He put away the book he was not reading.

“I also told Dr. Alphys that she should save her apologies. I told her that you would wish to speak to her, once she is ready.”

“can’t say i’m looking forward to it.”

Toriel was growing tired of his petulance. “Well, Sans, I expect she is not especially looking forward to it herself.”

He grinned. “maybe we shouldn’t do it, then.”

“Should not do what? You will have to talk to her sooner or later.”

“we could make it like a game. she comes down the corridor, i slip around the long way… she comes to see me, i’m out working…”

“Sans, you cannot avoid her the whole time she is here! Besides, there is no ‘long way.’”

“oh, there’s a long way. and if she doesn’t want to talk to me, and i don’t want to talk to her… what’s to stop us not talking?”

“This is ridiculous, Sans! You have issues that you need to resolve with Alphys!”

“i don’t know if there’s any resolution that keeps all of us happy, tori.”

This caught her off guard. She paused, her lips tightening. “Even so,” she said. “We must try.”

Sans seemed to see how serious Toriel had become. “fine. i’ll talk to her. but i’m not judging her, tori.”

At first she failed to take his meaning; then she realized that he meant it in the professional sense. “But why not? It seems to me a judgment may be exactly what she needs.”

“but it’s not what i need, tori. or you.”

“Sans, I do not understand.”

“nope. you don’t.”

“What good is a judge, if he cannot bring closure where there is conflict?”

He walked past her, into the kitchen. “i think you’re looking for a mediator, tori. that’s not what a judge does.”

She followed. “Please enlighten me, then. What exactly does a Judge do?”

He took a piece of cold pie from the fridge. “i told you already. i figure out whether folks are good people or not. nothing to do with closure.”

“But does a judge not also pronounce sentence?” Toriel pressed.

He looked at her, and one eye glared blue for long enough to disturb her. “you really want me to pronounce sentence on the girl who let my brother die?”

She was unnerved—she had to admit that. But this point had to be argued. “We all could have prevented it! You, me, Alphys—any one of us could have captured the child and brought them to Asgore, if we had thought it best.”

“yeah,” said Sans. “we were all caught off guard. but alphys. she’s the one who didn’t do anything about it afterward.”

“And what, exactly, did you do?” demanded Toriel, though she instantly regretted it.

The skeleton stepped forward, butterscotch filling dripping from his pie. “not. a. thing. do you know why, tori? do you know why i didn’t pound that walking anomaly into oblivion?”

She was saddened to hear him speak like this. “I do not.”

“because i’m the judge. and beating people up? that’s not what the judge does.”

Then… “Did you… judge the human child?”

“…yeah.”

Toriel reflected. “I do not suppose your judgment was a kind one.”

“…no. it wasn’t.”

She spoke softly: “But what difference did it make?”

He sighed. “maybe none. i told asgore the judgment i’d rendered. it might’ve made him fight a little harder. then again, maybe not.”

“And… were you surprised when the child defeated Asgore?”

“kind of. kind of not.”

She pressed on, wanting a fuller picture of things. “Were you… were you watching when the fight took place?”

“nope. that wasn’t my job. i gave asgore his privacy.”

“And had you been watching, would you have interfered?”

He paused. “i don’t know, tori.”

Toriel frowned. It saddened her to revisit all this, but she wanted to understand. “Well, Sans. I do not need you to judge Dr. Alphys right away, but I would like you to render formal judgment on her at some point.”

“sorry, tori. not gonna happen.”

Was he working for her or not? He left the kitchen, nibbling on pie, and Toriel followed. “But Sans! I only wish I knew why not!”

He turned just enough to glimpse her in the corner of his eye. “’cause there’s only two real ways that can go, tori. sure, there’s details, and there’s levels of violence. but when it comes down to it, either she’s an okay person, or she’s not.”

“And if she is not?” challenged Toriel.

“then she’s got to go. and you wind up unhappy, ‘cause you won’t believe me when i say she was irredeemable. and who can blame you? i’m biased. i wouldn’t believe me either.”

That was a fair point—Sans did have a stake in Alphys’s wrongdoings. “But were you not biased in your judgment of the human child?”

“course i was. but they made it all the way to the hall of judgment, so it had to be done.”

“And do you think your bias altered your judgment?” Toriel pressed.

“i called them a dirty brother killer. what do you think?”

She took a breath. Of course he had. Toriel tried her best not to dwell on her time with the child. “But… but Sans… what if it turns out that Alphys is a good person at heart?” As Toriel was nearly certain she was, deep down.

“then that’s even worse,” he replied.

She stared. “How could that possibly be worse?”

He faced her. “because then i’m gonna have to forgive her. don’t do that to me, tori.”

Toriel was stunned. What could she say in response to that?

Sans took one more bite of pie and left the remaining half-eaten slice on the table. “i’ll be in my room. let me know when she’s ready to talk.”

She watched him leave, then sat down hard in her chair and exhaled. Was forgiveness really so hard as all that?

But then she remembered her seven children. Yes, she realized. Forgiveness was that hard. It had taken Asgore’s death for her even to begin forgiving him. And from the way her feelings currently swam in her heart, she knew that process had only just begun.

[**************+++++++++]

Chapter Text

 Scene 24: Unmaking Beds

or

“Confessions”

It was funny how many different kinds of sweetness there were. Butterscotch, after all, was just a form of sugar, with butter and a little salt mixed in… but it had a really distinctive flavor. Given that a pie was always going to have sugar and butter in it, a butterscotch pie should be essentially nothing. It should be pie-flavored pie. But it wasn’t. Oh, stars, this pie was good.

At the same time, caramel was also essentially a form of sugar. And so was toffee. And honey… and molasses… can’t forget cotton candy… and yet, you could buy yogurt or ice cream or candy in any of those flavors, not to mention just ‘brown sugar’, and they would all taste different. Sweetness wasn’t a flavor—it was an entire catalog of flavors! And this pie Alphys was eating was proof that the very same ingredients could be spun up to make incredibly different things.

Take a young monster, for example, hatched in the Hotland incubator. Don’t give her any parents, just wards in charge of dozens. Afflict her with mild asthma and a stutter. Expose her to books, machines, ridicule, and a random DVD of an ancient human cartoon called Merry Melodies. Make her so unpopular that she can only befriend girls younger than herself, and put her house on a street near a garbage dump filled with artifacts from the surface. …See what develops! The question was… can those ingredients only add up to one thing? Or are they like butterscotch and caramel—are there multiple ways they can turn out?

This pie was actually a lot like Toriel herself, really. It had the appearance of being the same all throughout, and tasted that way, too—no layers, no hidden secrets or aftertaste. And it was really, really sweet. But the flavor wasn’t just sweetness—it was striking and distinctive and delicious, and it left Alphys wondering how in the world it was made. It was sublime.

Didn’t you start out with the premise that it was a lot like Toriel? asked her inner voice. It’s official—you’re crushing. What? No she wasn’t! She was just employing an extended analogy! Her inner voice shrugged. With you, same thing.

There was a knock on the door.

Well, this was it. “C-come in?” called Alphys.

The door cracked open just a bit and the skeleton slid in. It shut again with a tiny click. Yep, this was the guy she’d met in the castle, all right. He was wearing the same blue hoodie, but somehow he looked a lot darker now. Even aside from the fact the room was dark. He scared her, and even more unsettling than that was the fact that he looked scared of her, too.

“hey.”

“Hi.”

“tori told me you were ready to talk.”

Alphys nodded. She was ready. She didn’t know what would happen, but she had an odd conviction that whatever happened to her, she would deserve.

The visitor stood motionless, facing the bed where Alphys still lay. Hadn’t he been farther away a second ago? He didn’t say anything. Was he going to? He had mentioned talking, right?

“So… wh-what do you want to talk about?” Alphys ventured.

“the truth is, i don’t really want to talk at all. i would’ve been happy just avoiding you forever. but toriel put me up to this. you’ve gotta resolve your issues, she said.”

Alphys felt her breathing quicken. Did that mean Toriel wanted her to suffer? Well, maybe that was for the best. Maybe she should suffer. “Wh-what issues are those?” she asked.

He was silent a while. “i think you can guess,” he finally said.

And she could. He meant exactly what she’d been the most afraid of. “P-P-Papyrus,” she managed.

His eyes… something about his eyes was wrong, suddenly. “bingo.”

Alphys breathed. She couldn’t broach the subject. She could answer questions, but she couldn’t open it herself.

“so tell me,” said the skeleton. “what mettaton said on his so-called ‘final episode.’ was it true?”

She nodded weakly. It was.

“you got him to pretend to be a killer, so that you could rescue the kid and be their hero?”

Mettaton hadn’t been very flattering in his exposition, but he’d been basically right. “He made it sound like I was so c-c-carried away by the human’s story that I just… had to be a part of it. But it wasn’t about inserting myself into the adventure.” No, that wasn’t nearly pathetic enough. “It was that… well, I’d never met a human! But so much of what I love comes from their world! Their stories, their books, their cartoons and comics… When I was little, I used to d-dream of making friends with a human someday. And I, um, kept dreaming of that. When I got older. I… I’d be lying if I said it isn’t still one of my dreams! And here was my chance, at last! The chance I thought would never come. A human was working their way through the Underground, and I… I couldn’t let them just pass by, could I? I had to meet them. But I couldn’t just say hi and introduce myself, could I? B-because I knew what would happen if I did that. They’d say hi back, and then just keep on going, and then they’d either l-leave or be killed. Sure, I could say I wanted them to stay and be friends, but why would they do that? It’s not like I’m good at making friends. S-sometimes I’m not sure I’d even want to be my own friend.

“No… if I wanted them to stick around, I knew I’d have to do s-something really extraordinary. I couldn’t just show them an anime or play a video game with them. Sure, they might enjoy it, but they’d still move on to fight Asgore, and one way or another, they’d be gone. If I wanted them to stay, I knew I had to impress them. I couldn’t just… be myself. I had to be a hero! I had to save them from something! And that meant I needed a villain to fight… and there was only one person I could call on to be a villain for me. …Mettaton. I knew it might be the last favor he’d ever do me, but if I could make friends with a human, it would all be totally worth it. I could ask about so many things I still didn’t know… we could talk about human history, and monster history… and I could do science experiments on them! And to clean up from it all, we’d make some ramen and watch anime together all day long! It would have been a dream come true…”

All through her speech, the skeleton’s expression had barely changed. Alphys knew she was probably angering him more, but she couldn’t help it—once she started being honest, she had to let her feelings out.

“so you hatched this elaborate plot to trick this person you wanted to be your new best friend.”

Oh, gosh. There were so many other questionable aspects to the whole arrangement that Alphys had barely thought about that one. “…I guess I would have told the truth eventually? After we were such good friends I knew they would stay anyway? I wasn’t even thinking that far ahead. I just wanted them to be friends with me, no matter what it took. …And it wasn’t an elaborate plot—I really just shouted at Mettaton to pretend to be an evil, malfunctioning robot and threaten the human, but then let me save them every time, and he… he basically just improvised the rest. He’s a really good improviser.”

“doesn’t sound like you thought it out really well.”

“There wasn’t time! The human was plowing through Waterfall and I needed some way to impress them! And Mettaton owed me a k-k-kinda big favor, so…”

“a big favor? you mean, for creating him?”

“Um… kind of?”

“yeah, i can see how that might count as a pretty big favor. on the other hand, if someone hasn’t been created yet, can you really do them a favor?”

That was actually an interesting question. It seemed to depend on the exact timing of when the credit for granting a favor resolved… “I—I don’t know! But he did a great job… until he got sick of me and decided to betray me, I mean.”

“seems like you’re a whiz at picking friends. mettaton, who betrayed you. undyne, who thinks you betrayed her. and that kid.”

He actually had a really good point. But what was Alphys supposed to do— not try to make friends? “Um…”

He was standing closer than before, somehow. She still hadn’t seen him move. “reckoning time. did you, or did you not, know that that kid had killed my brother when you made your plan?”

She had. She’d seen it. “I, um… well, I wasn’t really paying full attention the whole time…”

One of his eyes flashed bright blue. Oh god. “don’t shit me, alphys. yes or no?”

“Y-yes! Yes, I did know. I saw them do it. I didn’t know he was your brother, though!”

Her interrogator leaned forward. “you told me you knew him. when we met at the castle.”

“From the Undernet! Not in real life. I… didn’t know what he looked like.”

The skeleton drooped. “you knew papyrus, but you didn’t know what he looked like? that’s just sad. it’s sad when things can be that way.”

Of all the horrifying and embarrassing things she’d done, that was what he called sad? “I really wish he hadn’t died,” she lamely offered.

“but you were apparently fine with trying to be besties with his murderer.”

That sounded so horrible. “I… I figured the human was just confused by their surroundings… and didn’t know what they were doing! Papyrus kept talking about trying to capture them… I was… I was appalled when they killed him, yes, but I wasn’t really that surprised. I figured I could… explain that monsters deserve compassion just like human beings, and the human would be sorry, and explain how afraid they’d been, and we’d hug, and it would all…” She trailed off.

“it would all be all right. that’s what you were going to say?”

“Um… yes. So there you go. That’s how h-horrible I am. I was ready to forgive the human for k-killing your brother.”

“you thought a life was an okay price to pay for your friendship.”

Did she? “Well—no! I mean, he was gone anyway. I didn’t see it coming and I couldn’t change it afterwards! I wouldn’t have tried to make friends with the human if it meant s-someone had to die.” Are you sure about that? asked her inner voice. “Er… well, I don’t think I would have.”

“so when you met the human, did you bring it up? did you tell them they’d done a terrible, terrible thing?”

Alphys bit her lip, realizing. “…No. I didn’t. I just blathered on about me and Mettaton.”

“guess that shows where your head was, huh?”

This was horrible. “…yes. I’m so selfish. I didn’t even think about the other monsters they might go on to kill. Except Asgore, I guess.”

“but even asgore was worth it, huh?”

“I honestly th-thought Asgore would win. B-but… I couldn’t blame the human for fighting him. What choice did they have? Asgore wasn’t going to let them go.”

“you were friends with asgore, weren’t you?”

Is it friendship if you cringe whenever someone calls you on the phone? For that matter, is it friendship if you fantasize about them in bed with you? “I used to be.”

“but the chance of his death was worth this wild dream of making friends with a murderous human?”

She had to think about that, painful though it was. “…No. Even if I hadn’t been trying to impress the human… I still would have let them go on to the palace. It wasn’t m-my right to take their soul.”

The skeleton tilted his head slightly. “you wanted to give them a fair chance?”

Was that it? It really was. If Asgore was the one who insisted on having every human killed who came through, it was only right that Asgore should have to kill them himself. “…Yes, I guess so.”

“that seems to be kind of a pattern for you.”

He meant Toriel. He meant giving her a chance to win the hearts of the monsters, even if it meant Undyne’s defeat. “Yeah, I guess… I guess it is.”

Somehow, he was back a step. “that sounds nice of you. it’s a nice, reasonable attitude.”

He was admitting she was reasonable? Even she wasn’t sure about that. “Um… th-thanks?”

He tilted forward. “…except that, because of your fair play attitude, i don’t have a brother, and this kingdom doesn’t have a real leader.”

It hit her like a stone. Did that mean fair play was wrong? It couldn’t, could it? You couldn’t just judge by the results! “…I’m sorry.”

“give me one reason i shouldn’t throw you out into the snow.”

She grappled for something to tell him, but nothing came. Maybe she did deserve to be tossed out. “Well… I don’t w-want you to.”

“that’s your reason? don’t throw me out, i don’t want you to?”

“I know I hurt you. Um… I haven’t been able to think it through thoroughly. I feel like it wasn’t wrong to give the human a fair chance to get home. But maybe it was. Maybe my principles are a-all wrong. It’s just that… if you kick me out, I’ll… I’ll die, and… and I’ll be gone, and… well, maybe that’s for the best, but…” But what? “But I don’t want to die,” she realized. “Not before I understand why I deserve it. Right now, I’m so confused… I don’t want to die confused. Please.”

The skeleton sighed. His hands sank deeper into his pockets. “i’m not gonna throw you out,” he said.

Alphys lay nervously against the headboard. Should she even question that?

“toriel would never forgive me if i did.”

Well thank goodness for Toriel! But she was still left struggling internally. If it weren’t for Toriel’s kindness, would the skeleton choose to snuff her out? Would she be left to perish in the snow? And worse, would she deserve it?

“okay,” said Sans. “good talk. i’ll see you around, alphys.”

“W-wait! You’re leaving?”

“yup.”

She sat up straight. “B-but… we haven’t gotten to the bottom of anything!”

“sorry. that’s as much as i can take.”

He left, and Alphys was left to wonder what he meant. Was it that painful listening to her? Was she such a horrible person that just being in the room with her made Sans suffer, until finally he had to escape?

Well, what was Alphys supposed to do, then? She couldn’t escape from herself.

It wasn’t like she hadn’t tried.

He strolled out of the kitchen, casually drinking from a bottle of ketchup. Toriel knew she did not have any ketchup in the kitchen. Moreover, she had not seen Sans enter the kitchen, though she had been sitting in the living room crocheting the whole time. She was coming to accept this sort of thing as one of his endearing oddities. However, she resented the way he strolled past without meeting her eyes.

“Sans. How did it go?”

“oh, you know. we talked about this and that.”

“And…?”

“and what? i didn’t judge her, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“No, you said that you would not. But have you come to terms with the doctor? Did you resolve your differences?”

He took another swig from the bottle. “i don’t figure the kind of differences we have can be resolved. but maybe that’s for the best. if we didn’t have differences, we’d all be alike.”

This was somehow unsatisfying. “Does that mean that you are unable to forgive Dr. Alphys?”

“dunno. i didn’t try. for now, i just wanted to learn more about her. find out what she was thinking. turns out she’s always dreamed of being friends with a human. did you know that?”

“No, I did not.” She had had no idea, in fact, but it did made sense. Toriel felt very fortunate in that she had had the chance to know several humans in her own time, even if most of them were children. She had been friendly with a number of human adults when she had lived on the surface thousands of years ago, but, try as she might, she could not remember their names or faces, except for the barest hint of an image here and there. “Perhaps I should discuss it with her.”

“be my guest. except that, you know. i’m your guest.”

“You are not a guest here, Sans. I thought we had made that clear. You are a full and equal partner in this home.”

“aw. does that mean i have to take turns doing the dishes?”

This was both amusing and consternating. “I would prefer that we do the dishes together, as we did on your first night here! But if you would prefer to take turns, I am amenable to that. Alternately, if you find you simply cannot abide dishes, you may find some other chore that you are willing to make your own.”

“how about unmaking the beds?”

Was he being supercilious? “I beg your pardon?”

“no, hear me out. making the beds is a chore, right?”

Toriel nodded. “Yes, it is. Although most people choose to make their own beds.”

“and if the beds never get unmade, there’s no way to make them, is there?”

So he was making a joke. “No—logically, there is not.”

“well then. we can’t make the beds until we unmake them. and that can be my job. i’m especially good at unmaking beds.”

Toriel was unsure whether to shut down this absurd logic or humor her companion. “Sans, the only reason that we make our beds in the first place is because they have been disheveled when we sleep in them.”

“precisely. that’s how i work the magic. power naps.”

“Would you say that you are better at putting things out of order than putting them in order?”

He grinned and winked. “now you’re starting to get me.”

So he really did need to be dealt with as a child. Well, Toriel was glad if she could play the role of mother again, in some small way. “But Sans, anyone can put a room or a shelf of books out of order. It requires patience and diligence to put things in order, which is how we can best enjoy them.”

“anyone can mix up a few things and mess up the floor a little, sure. but it takes talent to put things really out of order.”

This was becoming disturbing. “What do you mean?”

His grin grew lopsided. “you sure you want to find out?”

“No, I am not sure. I am doubtful that disorder serves any purpose! And if you are going to continue as my housemate, Sans, I expect you to do an equal share of the work.”

“ok. hey. if we’re equal partners in the house and all, does that mean I get an equal say in how long alphys gets to stay here?”

She had to admit that was a fair point. But what did it mean in practice? Tearing the lizard apart and letting half leave and half remain? What an awful thought. “That is fair, yes. But that means that we must come to a consensus.”

“and if we can’t come to a consensus?”

Toriel frowned. “Are you so eager to send her on her way?”

“not really. i just want to know where i stand.”

“Well, that makes two of us!”

Sans stared at her for a long while. His grin remained, but it was hollow. “it was nicer before, wasn’t it?”

Before? “Before this morning, you mean?”

“yeah.”

Toriel did not know what to say. “I… sympathize with how you feel. It appeared that we were going to have a blissful existence, away from the world, without any cares. And now… a care has found us. And it has divided us. And yet…”

Sans tilted his head.

Toriel set aside the frog sweater she was crocheting and stood up. “…Well, surely, if two is company, then three is a party, is it not?” She smiled hopefully.

Sans’s smile became a smidge more genuine. “yeah. it’s a party. and you’re a real party animal, tori.”

That she was not, and she knew it. “Well, perhaps I can learn,” she suggested.

“i dunno. can you teach an old goat new tricks?”

She frowned. “I am not an ‘old goat,’ Sans. I am a boss monster. You may make jokes about me being a goat, but please do not make them unkind.”

He winked. “gotcha. truth is, i’m not sure i can learn.”

“To have a friendly neighbor, Sans? Or to forgive?”

He stood in thought.

“I do not think that Alphys will be a burden to you, living in the ruins of Home. If you do not wish for her to be your friend, you need simply be civil to her when she comes to visit me. But it would be so much better if you could find a way to enjoy her company, Sans. I am only thinking of the long years ahead.”

“no, you’re right. three is just as good as two, if not better. and it’s not like she’s gonna be staying here in the house. but.” He looked at the ketchup bottle, then set it down on the stair railing. “i’m not sure i can learn to live without him, that’s all.”

Toriel took a deep breath. “Well, you had better, Sans, because there is no way to bring him back.” She heard the edge of her own words—had that been too harsh?

“no kidding, huh? don’t worry, i’m doing my best. …it just got a little harder this morning, that’s all."

Toriel watched him walk out the front door, leaving the ketchup balanced precariously over the staircase. She yearned to offer comfort, but could think of nothing that would not inflame his feelings regarding their houseguest. She watched him cross the yard, pausing a moment to give the old, dead tree a brotherly nudge on his way out.

She sighed. If there was ever a moment for a sigh, this was it. Sans would have to work out his feelings on his own, for Toriel simply did not have the tools to dig through his emotional wall. Her children had sometimes posed similar challenges; some issues had worked themselves out, some had not. She liked to think that, given enough time, she would have gotten through to even the most intransigent of them… but they had not given her that time. Her children had left, rather than work things through, and she did not know whether it was because they were children, or because they were human, or because they were mortal. For one reason or another, they had been impatient to see the world or to escape her embrace, and they had left her.

And she could not blame them, really. At the end of the day, she really had very little to offer. Aside from love, of course.

A throat cleared timidly behind her.

Changing gears swiftly, Toriel turned around and found Alphys in her pajamas, leaning against the railing for support. She looked frail and uncertain. “Uh—uh—hello! I, uh… thought I’d try g-getting out of bed. Uh, I… think I’m doing better.”

“That is very good to hear. Would you like assistance, Alphys? Are you feeling at all faint?”

“Um… y-y-y-yes, I think faintness is what this is. I th-thought I might be all better and I just had to… you know—get up—in o-order to regain my st-strength, but I guess my c-core is still col-ld…”

Toriel went to the diminutive reptile and placed a hand supportively on her upper back. “Then we should set you near the fireplace, should we not?”

Alphys’s head jerked up with interest. “Oh! Y-y-yes, I suppose so!”

Toriel maintained her support as she led Alphys, step by step, into the living room. She lifted her hand to conjure a moderate flame in the fireplace, and was delighted to find that enough of her magic had returned that she was able to do it on the first try.

“Ooh… c-can I sit in the big chair?” asked Alphys.

“Of course! It is normally my chair, but this is an exceptional circumstance.” Toriel helped her over, and Alphys managed to spring up into the chair, but then tumbled backward, winding up with her head against the back. “Ooops!”

Toriel chuckled and reached in to set the doctor upright. “There you are!”

Alphys settled herself, curling her tail to one side and taking several deep breaths, followed by a yawn. “Yes,” she finally decided. “This is nice. Thank you, Toriel.” She looked around. “Is Sans out? I s-saw you watching at the door.”

‘Out’ was a good way of putting it. “Yes, he has gone for a walk to gather his thoughts.” She would not mention the nature of those thoughts unless Alphys brought it up. “I expect he will be back in time for supper.”

“Oh. S-speaking of food… I really loved… I really enjoyed the butterscotch pie you brought me. I’ve never had pie like that.”

This warmed Toriel’s heart. “Would you like seconds, Alphys?”

The little yellow hands clapped against her belly. “Is there more?” she asked eagerly. “Um—yes, please!”

Toriel tried to contain her smile as she went to the kitchen and fixed another slice for Alphys. This time she added a precious little dollop of whipped cream.

“Here you are, my friend,” she said.

Alphys took the plate and looked up. “Y—your friend? Are—are we friends, Toriel?”

“Shall we be? I was prepared to think of us as friends during our dinner at the castle, until you revealed that you did not yet trust me.”

“W-well, I trust you now! So… yes? I guess we are friends?”

Toriel extended a hand, smiling warmly. “Friends.”

Alphys shook two of her fingers with her own, much smaller hand. “Friends!”

At moments like this, it was good to bask in the simple joy of things. Toriel did not speak.

“I have to be honest,” said Alphys. “I felt terrible telling you that I didn’t trust you. And when you—when you called me up before your speech, I almost didn’t answer. I was too afraid to talk to you.”

“As I recall, you did not answer the first time, and I had to call again.”

“Er, yes… well, after we did talk, I felt even worse. You just wanted to know where you’d gone wrong, and I… I couldn’t tell you. You opened up to me about your… your children, and about how you were afraid of Undyne, and nervous about your speech… and I still couldn’t tell you what you wanted to know. It felt like… like I was burning myself up, bit by bit, with every second I didn’t tell the truth.” Toriel watched her softly, their hands still touching. “Do you know how I started to think of you?” Alphys asked. “As a ‘figure of towering integrity.’ During our dinner, when I s-said I just wanted to do science for its own sake, you said I had exceptional integrity. B-but really, I don’t have much integrity at all! You have so much integrity, it… it actually made me afraid.”

“Really?” asked Toriel, lowering herself to her knees so they could see more nearly eye to eye.

The lizard’s hand shook. “R-really! B-but on the other hand… you may not be the… the best judge of character?”

Something in the meekness of Alphys’s tone that suggested a wink and set Toriel laughing. “Because I gave you the benefit of the doubt?”

“Y-yes, exactly! You should have kept doubting me!”

“It is true, that is a weakness of mine. There was a time when I felt so in love… so very in love… that I could not imagine that my husband might hold any flaw, or that my love would ever quaver, or that anything short of death could end the perfect union I enjoyed.” Toriel took a deep breath to savor her memories of the happiest time in her life. “Have you ever felt that way, Alphys?”

“N-n-no… I’ve never been in love, really. It’s all been s-stupid crushes.”

How adorable! “I see! And yet, despite the purity of my conviction, I turned out to be wrong. So very wrong. You see, my marriage had simply not yet been truly tested by adversity. We had thought that being betrayed by humankind and driven underground had tested us, but in reality, it had not. Because through all of that, there was only one course we could take. Yes, we helped our race develop a new life underground, because, what else could we do? And while it brought us closer together, we had not yet faced a question of morality. That is the only true test of a relationship. But for the first four thousand years of my life, I was simply too young and naive to understand that.”

She saw Alphys shake, even as her scaled fingers still clutched her own. Had it been a mistake to reveal her age, even in self-deprecation? “I’ve read a little about wh-what happened,” Alphys replied. “And I listened to those tapes. But… I’m still not clear on what exactly drove you and Asgore apart.”

“Would you like to know?”

“Y-yes, please.”

Toriel finally drew back her hand. She went to fetch a large pillow, which she set on the floor so that she could sit on it and speak in comfort. The last time she had sat this way before her own chair… must have been Celine. So very long ago…

How to begin? “You are probably aware that the seeds were set in motion when a human child fell through the passages in Mount Ebott and landed here in the Ruins, over nine hundred years ago. This child was not unlike the recent one who killed Asgore, but they came before all the others I mentioned in my speech. Their name was Ziggy, and when they were discovered, they were brought before me and Asgore for our judgment. We were both compassionate in those days, so we took great pains to befriend the child, and to teach them morals where their own were lacking.”

Alphys was listening carefully. “W-was Ziggy a boy or a girl?”

“Believe it or not, they never told us! When we asked, they would say only something like, ‘It doesn’t matter now, does it? It’s only monsters and me.’ Ziggy never allowed us to see them naked, and we respected their privacy.”

“Sounds like they were a… a difficult child.”

“Yes. Ziggy was quite troubled. They spoke of how their own parents had neglected them, berated them, treated them cruelly… and we resolved to be the true parents the surface world had failed to provide for our child. As it happened, Asgore and I had finally given life to a child of our own, and we were raising him at the same time—but then, I expect you were aware of that already.”

“A-Asriel,” said Alphys. “Wh-why did it take you so long to have a child of your own? I-if I may ask.”

“Nobody knows,” replied Toriel truthfully. “With our kind, it cannot be predicted. Some believe that destiny governs the birth of boss monsters, withholding them until they are needed. It is quite possible that Asriel did not enter the world until he did simply because Ziggy had not yet arrived, and destiny was waiting.” Although that was a rather sad thought. “At the time, Ziggy’s arrival seemed a true blessing, because it gave our son a playmate and best friend. Moreover, Asgore believed that if we were to raise Ziggy well, someday they could return through the barrier and win over the human race to our cause, thus paving the way to peace between monsters and humans once again. He called them ‘the future of humans and monsters.’”

Alphys smiled bitterly. “And then it all went wrong, didn’t it?”

Toriel closed her eyes and breathed. “Yes. Perhaps the environment of New Home was simply not well suited to a young human, or perhaps it was fate, or perhaps we were simply unlucky. But Ziggy fell gravely ill. We could do nothing to save their life. When they finally died… Asriel was the only one by their side.” She tried not to cry. “If only Asgore or I had been there at the end… but Asriel had asked to take turns watching his sibling, and we could not have imagined what would occur.”

“A-Asriel absorbed Ziggy’s soul, right? And went through the barrier?”

“That is correct. We will never know what possessed him to do it. Most likely it was sheer grief, and the fact that as a child, he did not know how to handle it. All he told us before leaving was that he was going to fulfill Ziggy’s final request… to bury them beneath the golden flowers of their village. He returned later that day, wounded mortally, having walked among humans… and still carrying Ziggy’s body. He died in the palace, and was not able to tell us what had happened. Perhaps he provoked the humans he met, or perhaps the sight of a monster carrying a human corpse was all the provocation they required. They killed our son… and Asgore would never forgive them for what they had done.”

“B-b-but you did?”

“I cannot forgive people I have never met, and whose actions I did not witness. For all I know, my son may have been bawling in grief, as worthy of pity as anything, and they attacked him simply because he was different.”

Alphys was silent. Toriel cast her mind back to remember that most painful of days. She forced herself to remember for the sake of her guest, and for her own long-term sanity.

“You… you never listened to that fourth tape, did you?” said Alphys.

Suddenly Toriel’s blood went cold. She had forgotten the tape. “…No, I did not. You said that it might bring me heartache.”

“That’s funny,” said Alphys. “Y-you trusted me on that, e-even while I wasn’t trusting you. Um… a moment ago, you said… we’ll never know what possessed Asriel to, um, to absorb Ziggy’s soul. B-but.”

Oh stars above. Was Alphys saying she knew? “But?”

“B-but if you could know, would you want to? Or is it… is it the sort of thing you’d rather not, erm, dig up?”

So the doctor had the key to this missing piece of her life’s story. Toriel sat with her eyes closed and took three full, deep breaths to clear her mind. She opened her eyes. She knew the answer.

“Yes, doctor,” she whispered. “Yes, I would like very much to know why my son died.”

Now Alphys looked nervous. She shifted in her seat. “Um—it was… it was… I’m sorry.” Choked up, she took a bite of her pie. Toriel waited patiently.

“It was a plan,” Alphys revealed at last. “It was all Ziggy’s idea. Ziggy committed su…s-suicide, by eating buttercups. They made Asriel pr-promise to absorb their soul when they died… and to go to the surface… and to… to… k-kill six humans… and to…

Toriel listened in shock, mouth open.

“…and to, uh… break the barrier… so that monsters could be free… and th-they could be heroes, I guess.”

What. How! Why? Oh! Oh…

Toriel had to repeat it all to herself in order to understand. Ziggy, her own Ziggy, had… killed themselves? The terrible illness that had wracked the Underground had happened… on purpose?!

It was so much. She shifted down into her pillow and felt tension pass from one part of her body to another. Her breathing sped, then slowed. She sat with her eyes squinched shut, trying to make sense of this revelation, to process how it changed everything that had come after. It was not going to happen quickly. So much had happened, and so much had been influenced by that terrible day.

She felt a scaled hand on her shoulder. Toriel opened her eyes and found Alphys there with quivering knees, barely able to stand on her own, yet comforting Toriel.

“A-are you all right?” asked the sweet little monster.

Toriel looked anew at the room she was in. The ceiling, the walls, the trim, the decorations. All familiar from how she had made it over the centuries. “Yes,” she decided. “Yes, I am all right. I am shocked, that is all. What you have told me…” What did it really mean? What did it really matter, so long after the fact? “…I simply do not know what to make of it.”

Alphys patted Toriel. “I-it’s okay. I’ll help you work through it, if you want to. Y-y-you can share thoughts, and I’ll… I’ll be your sounding board! And, uh… you can bounce them off of me.”

That was a curious phrasing. “Bounce my thoughts off of you?”

“W-well, sure! If you want to. I mean, if you want me to leave you alone, I can… I can do that, too.”

Toriel smiled and reached up to steady Alphys. “I just cannot believe that I raised a suicidal child… but on the other hand, they were trying to liberate the Underground, yes? And Asriel… was it his plan too, or was he simply… willing to do anything Ziggy told him? Oh, how he adored that child.”

“I wish we had the tape, so you could hear it,” said Alphys. “B-but I’m guessing you didn’t bring it with you.”

“I brought nothing with me,” said Toriel. “I did not get up that morning planning to be exiled.”

“A-and I left all my tech stuff behind,” said Alphys. “Except my phone… and I lost my phone. I…” She looked at her pajamaed self. “I feel so naked.”

“Well,” said Toriel tenderly. “If you have chosen to begin anew… is it not right that you should be naked? After all, that is how we all begin life.”

Alphys blushed. “I guess. Um.” She wobbled back to the chair and tried to hoist herself up. Toriel came over to give her a boost.

“Toriel? Can I ask a question?”

“Of course!

Somehow, though, the question seemed to have trouble finding its way from the lizard’s brain to her mouth. “Um… so are… are y-you and Sans… um… a couple?”

Now it was Toriel’s turn to blush. “We are a couple of friends who are rapidly growing close,” she said, choosing not to mention their recent discord.

“But you aren’t… you aren’t in love with each other? You aren’t… sh-sharing a bed, or anything?”

Toriel grinned privately. Did this line of questioning mean that Alphys was fond of Sans, despite his misgivings about her? “No, we are not. We are platonic friends.”

This news seemed to make Alphys a shade happier, as Toriel thought it might. “Oh! Uh—okay. Just… just curious.”

“Of course,” said Toriel. Well, if the unlikely should happen to occur, and Sans and Alphys fall in love, then so much the better. It would be an absolute delight to spend her years with a happy couple. The very notion made her grin.

Toriel picked up her frog sweater in progress and sat down in one of the smaller chairs to continue crocheting. It creaked under her weight, but she felt it could take the punishment of her body for a little while. For now, Alphys needed the easy chair. As she resumed her craft, she set herself to thinking of Ziggy and Asriel, so long ago. Poor Asriel. Had he really gone along with the plan just because Ziggy had told him to? Had he been reluctant? Afraid? It might not make any difference how a long dead child had felt nine centuries ago, but still, to Toriel, here and now, it mattered. She wondered if her son had died believing himself a failure. And she wondered whether Ziggy, inside of Asriel, had been aware of what had taken place on the surface. Had they shared control of Asriel’s body? Had they gotten the idea of buttercups from that time when Asgore had fallen sick from buttercup poisoning? Had that, too, been deliberate?

One question slowly rose above the rest: Had their plan had a chance of working? Could they actually have freed monsterkind on that day? And… would Toriel have been proud of them if they had?

Well, that was a silly question, she realized. Foolish though they might have been… she was proud of them anyway.

Her first two children had died heroes. Toriel stilled her needles and sat in silence as tears of pride came to her eyes. She had mothered heroes. There was sorrow and there was pain in the story Alphys had completed for her, but the feeling that was settling to Toriel’s foundation was pride. She would forever be proud of her heroic children, who had come so close to breaking the barrier and had given their young lives in the attempt.

And so everything had changed.

“Alphys?” she said, lifting her gaze.

“Y-yes?” answered the reptile in her easy chair.

“Thank you for telling me. About my children.”

“Oh! N-no problem.”

Alphys said nothing more, but Toriel saw her sit up a little straighter in the chair and hold her face a little higher. Alphys was happy to have made Toriel happy.

It was good to dwell in a happy home.

[********++++++++++++++++]

Chapter Text

[+]

Scene 25: A Judgment is Passed

or

“sans.”

Welp.  Things were going too fast again.  Time to slow them down.

Sans felt for the point five cycle class as he walked.  The familiar pattern tickled his awareness, something like color and something like flavor, but not really quite either.  After a half second, he felt the passage of his favorite half cycle: 201.5.  He didn’t have a reason it was his favorite—he just knew it was, ‘cause he’d told himself once in a note.  As the sequence of 256 repeated, Sans felt the pinprick of 201.5 each time, once per second, until he was flinching slightly each time it came around.  His footsteps grew regular.  Once the pattern was nice and easy, he hitched himself to the half cycle and felt things slow down, just like always.  Technically he was speeding up, but it always felt more natural to think of it as the world slowing down.  He repeated the procedure twice more, until he was hitting on eight times as many cycles as normal.  Now it finally felt comfortable to walk.

Sans moseyed through the catacombs until he reached the wall.  The way through was too small for him, so he had to use another trick, but he was used to that by now.  He’d been getting used to the idea that the Ruins were his new home—that Snowdin was gone and the world was just smaller now, and that was okay.  It felt right.  But now there were three, and three was a crowd, and because of that Sans just couldn’t stop going places, even when there was no point going anywhere anymore.

The rock wasn’t there for every part of every cycle.  It regenerated on every cycle, but it did it by spawning right from the lath points, so if he stood left of a lath and moved just a tiny bit at the end of each cycle, he could get through the rock.  It wasn’t pleasant, but neither was feeling cooped in.  So he concentrated for long enough to get through the wall, and then he was in the snow forest where things were cold again, like he liked them these days.

Thoughts?  Didn’t need ‘em.  He had trees, and snow, and frigidity, and time.  Whenever he heard someone nearby, he took the long route and skirted around.  Sans didn’t want to run into anyone just now except his friend.  That gave him plenty of time to empty his head out along the way.  If there wasn’t enough time?  He could just make more.

The river sounded strange at one eighth speed.  It was like an avalanche in the distance, but with extra texture laced through, as if speeding it up would make it resolve into a familiar song.  Sans had wondered, once, whether the river’s babbling really was a song at some speed, but no matter how much he experimented, he never quite got music from it.

Still. the Wrong Number Song had to come from somewhere, didn’t it?  No one could have invented that melody.  If it wasn’t the river, it had to be the wind, or the rain, or the bursting of magma somewhere else in the Underground.  Someday, he’d find its source.

These were thoughts, sure.  But they were so well worn they barely counted.  For the most part, Sans’ skull was so empty he reached the outlet before he even knew it.  He walked to the bank of the river and spent a few moments shedding the extra cycles that kept catching on his consciousness until he was back to normal.  It was way easier to drop a cycle class than to pick it up.  A lot of things were like that, really.  Socks, for example.

Then it was time to concentrate on how much he wanted to travel on the river.  He’d found that it didn’t work to pretend.  He had to have a real reason for wanting to go somewhere, and for better or worse, current events had given him one.  Sans wasn’t a big fan of concentration, though, so thankfully it wasn’t long before his old friend appeared in the distance.  The raft skipped for a while over the waves before settling into an easy drift that carried it to a halt.  Sure enough, it stopped right in front of Sans, the riverman looming over him.

“Care for a ride?”

“yeah,” said Sans, getting on.  “thanks for stopping by.  i was starting to think i might have to swim.”

The boatman pushed off, not answering.  That was fine.  He didn’t always answer right away.  Sans knew what it was like not wanting to talk.  It didn’t matter anyway, since the funny thing about these trips was that they were always exactly the right length.

“Where will we go today?” asked the riverman.

“the castle.  you heard about the big shindig they’re having up there?”

“Shindig?”

“you know.  celebration of the life of the royal scientist?  girl who bumped herself off the other day?”

The figure straightened as he poled the raft a bit faster, now headed downstream.  “The state funeral.”

“yeah, that’s the one.  so you did hear about it.”

“I’ve carried dozens of monsters there since early this morning.”

“well.  then i guess you must have an opinion of it by now.”

The riverman was silent.  Riverperson, whatever.  If Sans didn’t know the guy was a man, he definitely wouldn’t be able to tell from when he acted like this.

“don’t suppose you knew the deceased?”

“No better than she knew herself.”

Sans was dumbfounded for a moment.  “kind of a high bar to set.  don’t most people know themselves best?”

“Tra la la,” said the riverman.  Snowy banks rolled by.

Well, when the boatman broke out his Tra la la line, it was time to change the subject.  Even if he was harder to know these days, Sans still knew him that well.  “so.  you heard about how the souls got lost, right?”

“The six human children?  Where could they be by now?  Making friends with clouds?”

“yeah, i dunno.  i doubt that.  but when the kid took asgore out, they either took the souls with ‘em or set ‘em free.  must be a bit of a relief, huh?”

The riverman looked ominously at Sans.  “Seven little flies in a spider’s web.  Do you think number one feels any safer than number seven?”

So he was talking in riddles now.  Well, Sans was used to that, and he got the meaning.  Sure, the boatman’s soul wouldn’t be number seven anymore if anyone ever found out he was secretly human, but with Undyne in charge, it still wasn’t like he’d be allowed to live.  “still nervous, huh?”

“In a way, one’s brain is all nerves.”

“well.  i used to be nervous too, i guess.  what i’m feeling these days?  it’s different.  but it’s not any better.”

The cowled head turned from the water to Sans.  “Are you all out of hope?”

Good question.  Was he?  “hope for what?  for happiness?  yeah, i just might be.”

The riverman turned back toward the water.  They were racing along now.

“…for other people’s happiness?” Sans continued.  “i don’t think so.  there’s still hope for that.”

“Does it matter?” asked the riverman.

Well, how was he supposed to take that?  “of course it matters.  if i can’t be happy, at least someone ought to be.”

“Does it make you happy when others are?”

That, Sans had to think about.  For sure, it used to make him happy when Papyrus was.  Really, that had been his greatest joy.  “i guess.  but it’s not the same as being happy myself.”

The riverman was silent a while.  “A bag of flour was made into a cake,” he eventually said.  “But it wasn’t the same as being a cake in the first place.”

Sans shook his head.  “that doesn’t make a ton of sense, geldegarde.”

But the boatman was silent, just as the racing black water was.  They were in Waterfall now.

“how can anything be a cake in the first place?”

There wasn’t any answer.

“no cake starts out a cake.  you’ve got to make it one.  what’s the metaphor here?”

No answer.

Well, what was the difference between now and before, anyway?  Between taking happiness in Papyrus’s antics and… being happy that Toriel was happy?  Or even… or even Alphys?  Was that really so different?

The way he’d cared about his brother… he wasn’t going to have that kind of bond ever again with anyone, he knew.  But that didn’t make caring about him any different from caring about anyone else.  Aside from that Papyrus had been special.

But everyone was special in some way.

“i guess i’m not out of hope, no,” he admitted.  “it’s just… there’s a lot less now to hope for.  that’s all.”

“Never fear.  Maybe you’ll turn into a butterfly!  The water is looking wet today.”

“it’s water, geldegarde.  being wet is what it does.  and i’m not gonna turn into anything.  i’m too old for that.”  With Asgore gone, Sans realized, the riverman was the only person left who knew how old he really was.

“One monster turned into an empress.  Another turned into a splotch at the bottom of a waterfall.  Who knows what you could turn into?”

Yeah, right.  “well, as it happens, i’m on my way to go check on that empress.  see how she’s doing.  but don’t worry.  i won’t spill your secret.”

“That I used to operate an elevator?”

“sure.  let’s go with that.”

There were times Sans regretted introducing the fallen human he’d met to his grandfather.  Sans had been just a kid; he figured if anyone could help his scared new friend find a way to hide himself from Asgore, Grandpa could.  But the process had messed the riverman up… even more than Sans had been.  At least all Grandpa had done to Sans was to educate him.  That was bad enough.  But the riverman was changed from the core up.  Personality-wise, Sans barely recognized him anymore.

Everyone had their own ways of coping, but Sans was better at it than most.  He’d managed to stay more or less the same as he’d always been.  He was just a little heavier with secrets now than he’d used to be.  But technically he was middle aged now, and a little dumpiness was normal in middle age, right?

They’d reached Hotland.  The raft was coming to a speedy halt. Sans could see monsters milling around in crowds, some of them wearing black.  The funeral couldn’t be far off.

“Tra la la.  Glad I could help!

“yeah.  i dunno if you helped, but it was good to talk.  take care, okay?”

“Come again some time!”

“count on it,” said Sans.  True, part of him wanted to just disappear into the Ruins forever, but how could he abandon his oldest friend?  He knew he’d be back next time he had an excuse to ride the river.

The raft moved off, and Sans paused to hook up with his familiar cycle classes again.  Half phase, quarter phase, tenths, thirtieths.  If he wanted to stay unseen in a populated place, he had to slow things down a lot more.  It meant extra work, but it was worth it.  Soon, Sans was doing things in a jiffy—a sixtieth of a second—that would normally take a whole second to get through.

So.  Time to find Undyne.  He checked the castle first, of course.  There were guards there, but not a ton—leave it to a skeleton to evade a skeleton crew.  But Undyne wasn’t there, so Sans followed the crowds.  Which is to say, he went where the nearly immobile clumps of monsters were thickest.

That led him to the Core, which was a place he didn’t like going.  It made him uncomfortable for a few reasons.  Still, he’d come this far—it’d be a shame to give up now.  Monsters were wandering the halls of the Core in pairs and groups, chatting and watching something on TV screens set in the walls.  Looked like Mettaton’s show.  Sans paused to watch for a while, but it was just random contestants doing puzzles he guessed had been designed by Dr. Alphys.  No Undyne there either.

So he watched the guards.  In particular, he watched their eyes.  The little movements that showed where their minds were, which direction their attentions lay.  Even if they weren’t guarding the empress directly, if they knew where she was, they’d reflect that in the way they moved.  And when they were moving this slowly, a guy like Sans could take in all the details.

There it was.  Got it.  Undyne was someplace in the Core, but she was watching from higher up.  Maybe a balcony—more likely a private room.  He climbed the first ladder he could find and wandered on the second level for a while.  Up another ladder.  More wandering.  Finally, he found a couple of guards in an unlikely place, slipped past them, and there she was.

It was probably a conference room when there wasn’t a state funeral going on.  Long table, big TV screen on one wall, giant window at the end of the room looking down on the crowds—Sans was guessing it was made of one way glass.  Mettaton’s show was on the screen.  Some mouse in gray overalls was trying to maneuver a giant robotic diamond through a maze of triangles before it got splintered by crabs.  She kept clicking a remote control that made it turn and slide.  Undyne was way more rapt than Sans would’ve expected her to be.  Since when did she like puzzles?  Or watch Mettaton’s show?

“hey,” he said.

Undyne whipped around like she’d been wound about five times too tight.  She swung magic energy spears humming in every direction.  “WHO’S THERE?”

Sans decoupled himself down to triple time and lifted a hand.  “just me.  what’s up?”  It wasn’t hard to talk at a third his normal speed—he just had to be extra lazy.

The piscine eye flashed and the spear went up.  “Pap’s brother!  What was it… Sans!  What are you doing here?!”

“just paying a visit.  you can put the spear down, by the way.  no one here’s getting hurt today.”

The empress cautiously lowered her weapon.  Half her left ear was missing—probably happened in the battle somehow after he’d had to disappear.  “How did you get past my guards??” she demanded.  Wow.  Double question marks on the heels of question-exclamation.  At this rate, she’d be breaking out the interrobangs soon.

“they were kinda slow, so i slipped past.  how’s the whole supreme ruler thing working out for you?”

She flashed him a toothy look of consternation.  Most people weren’t toothy and consternated at the same time, but Undyne’s expressions were usually pretty tooth-heavy.  “What do you think?”  She gestured to the television.  The contestants’ and host’s podiums were all emblazoned with Alphys’s face, to remind everyone who the event was for.

“i think things must’ve gone pretty sideways, for you to be all buddy-buddy with mettaton.  i thought you didn’t like him.”

“I don’t.  But he can be funny sometimes, and besides, he’s all I’ve got.”

“would’ve thought a bigshot guard like you would have friends.”

As she stared at the screen, the base of her spear pounded resonantly against the floor.  “I used to.  Until recently.”  Those words weren’t easy to get out.  “Now all I’ve got is fans.”

“fans, huh?  sounds like mettaton’s way of doing things.”

She shrugged hard.  “I’m willing to let him run the empire if he wants to.  All I want to do is break out and start wreaking havoc on the surface.”

“really?  that’s all you want to do?  you don’t want to, i don’t know… kick back at a bar somewhere and have a hot dog?”

She glared at him, but there was confusion and longing in her glare—Sans picked up a trace of it on the third-cycle.  “No!” she shouted.  “I want to take humanity to task for who they are!”

“and who’s that?” asked Sans.

“…I don’t have a word for how bad they are.  If I called them something ugly—something like ravaging murderers or soul-eating terrors—I’d just be insulting murderers and terrors.  There’s no way to describe them except by what they are.  More awful than anyone can imagine.”

“wow, undyne.  why don’t you say how you really feel.”

She stood there in misery, staring at the screen.  “I can’t.”

Sans stood there thinking for a minute.  He was kind of impressed by the height of Undyne’s hatred.  It was making it tough for him, though—he wanted to get a read on the empress, but it’s hard to tell the shape of something if there’s a spire sticking up so high you can’t see the end of it.

“is that why you threw out the queen?  so you could get back at humanity?”

She glowered and breathed harder.  “Yeah.  Because she wasn’t going to do it.”

Sans paused.  “she loves humans, huh?”

Undyne grasped her spear so hard it quivered and nearly broke.  “She thinks so, anyway.”

That was interesting.  “you think maybe she didn’t really love her kids?”

Undyne turned her eyes to Sans, full of negativity.  Fear, shame, anger, a good dose of wanting him gone.  “Let’s get one thing straight.  Those kids?  They were never her kids.  They were never going to grow up the way she wanted.  They were going to grow up their own way, no matter what she did with them!  Maybe they made her think they loved her.  That’s just the way they are.  They fool you into letting down your guard.  Honestly, she’s lucky none of them ever stuck around long enough to kill her.”

She didn’t pull punches, Sans had to give her that.  “but even if they didn’t really love her, that doesn’t mean she didn’t love them.”

Undyne’s face twisted as she returned her attention to the monitor.  “I don’t even know what it means to love something like that.”

Welp, this case was looking pretty cut and dried.  But Sans still wanted to know what else was in there besides hatred.  “so tell me, undyne.  say you break through.  say we go to the surface and you field an army against humans, and you win.  you vanquish the world.  wipe them out, one and all.  what then?”

She grunted.  “Then we live in peace.  Use the land for our own purposes!  Till our own crops!  Plant our own dirt!  We get to finally breathe out… and relax.”

Sans processed this.  “fair enough.  but what about you?  what will you do?”

The piscine shoulders slumped.  “I’ll be done, I guess.  I’ll let someone else run things.”

“sure.  and then?”

She looked at him with angry disgust.  “And then what?”

Sans stood his ground.  “what’ll you do then?”

Undyne blinked.  “How should I know?  That’s a world away!  Maybe I’ll take up cross-stitch or something boring like that!”

“nah.  you wouldn’t do something for fun if you thought it was boring.”

She blasted the floor next to Sans with a glowing spear.  “Well, what do you think I should do, then?”

Sans shrugged.  “it’s not up to me.  you really saying you’ve got no idea?”

Undyne shivered and leaned forward.  She clutched her spear, the real one, to her chest.  “Maybe I’ll take a look around.  See what the surface has to offer.”

“any idea what that might be?’

She shut her eyes.  “Long sloping beaches… rocky flats by the water, for running over… deep sunsets and quiet nights… aside from the wind rustling through the tall grass…”

Sans was impressed.  “you been thinking about that a while?”

But Undyne didn’t answer right away.  She only opened her eyes after a minute had passed.  “Hell.  I guess I must have.”

“not bad,” said Sans.  But Undyne stayed in thought a while more, and Sans didn’t interrupt.

“You know what I wouldn’t mind doing, Sans?”

“what’s that?”

Her ears rose to their full, wounded splendor.  “Swimming in the ocean.  Now that’d probably be something.”

It probably would.  But he stayed quiet.  And Undyne was quiet too.  For half a minute, they stood there, imagining someplace far away that probably didn’t exist at all.

A bell chimed thrice.

Undyne’s spear was at the ready, her body glowing with energy, eyes wide and betrayed.  “What the hell!?”

Sans held up a hand.  “it’s nothing.  don’t worry, that happens around me now and then.”

She kept searching for the source of the bells.  Then she jerked in surprise and looked at Sans.  “You… you’re the one who judged me, all those years back.  When I was just starting out as captain!  That was YOU!”

Sans held up his other hand.  “guilty.  guess i just couldn’t help myself, since i came back for more.”

“You just judged me AGAIN!”

He nodded.  “wasn’t hard.  you’re kind of an open book right now.”

“Well, WHAT’S WRONG WITH THAT??  An open book is what the monsters need right now!”

“i’m not disagreeing.  something to be said for transparency.  and to your credit…”

He spotted the release of Undyne’s spear on the two-thirds cycle and scrambled for a grip on any class he could get.  Equipped with a messy hodge-podge of cycles, he leapt aside, grinning, then let go of everything but the thirds again.  Luckily, it fell away without getting tangled… this time.  Undyne’s thrown spear clattered on the floor where he’d been.

“… to your credit,” he continued, “you are the person you say you are.  i was worried you might’ve chucked toriel out just so you could have power.  but that wasn’t it at all.”

“No,” spat Undyne.  “That wasn’t it!  I never wanted to be in charge!  I just REALLY DO HATE HUMANS THAT MUCH!!”  Her fists and biceps tensed in angry frustration.

“yeah,” said Sans.  “and it looks like you could use some comfort.  so i’ll give you a reward for being honest.”  He didn’t know if this was the smart thing to do, but his better nature wouldn’t let him walk away without offering.

Undyne stood straight, but her expression sagged.  “What?”

“i’ll tell you something.  you just have to promise not to do anything dumb about it.”

She stared.  “Do you really think I can keep a promise like that?”

“doesn’t matter, so long as you make it and mean it.”

She sighed.  “I promise.  What do you have to tell me?”

“alphys isn’t dead.  i’m not saying she’ll ever come back… she probably won’t.  that waterfall’s pretty deep.  but she’s alive out there, somewhere.”

That expression of amazement… not just at what she’d been told, but at the fact that anything could bring her such unexpected joy… well, it was what Sans lived for.  Maybe the riverman had been right.  Maybe bringing happiness to others really was as good as being happy himself.

“She’s alive?!  She’s really alive?  Have you seen her?!”

“yeah.  i’ve seen her.  she’s in good health.  can’t tell you where, though, so don’t ask.”

Undyne’s face was wild.  “You have to bring her back here!!”

“can’t do that,” he replied, shaking his head.

She stepped forward, falling to one knee.  “Then you have to take me to where she is!”

He shook his head again.  “sorry.  can’t do that either.”

She looked like she wanted to cry, to exult, to punch the world in the gut.  “Alphys…”

“so.  there you go.  you’re welcome.”

He turned to leave, but she cried, “Wait!”

“yeah?”

“…Is she happy?”

That, he had to think about.  She’d seemed pretty overwrought when he’d talked to her.  But at least she was letting all her troubles out.  That was a big deal, he knew.  “you know what?  i think she’s getting there.”

Undyne bent over on her knees and clasped her hands, her chest convulsing.

“by the way, i like the new look.  one and a half ears really suits you.  goes with the whole one eye thing.”

She looked up angrily and hovered an energy spear to her side.

“well,” said Sans.  “be seeing you.”  He stepped out of the room.

Sans took the ladder down again and found a nook to hide in, just in case Undyne followed.  But she didn’t.  So he worked his way back up to thirtieths and got to work edging his way out of the Core.  It was tricky, since the walls there regenerated twice as fast as the ones in the Ruins, but he didn’t want to risk just walking out in case Undyne had notified the guards.  When someone was looking for you, even jiffy-cycles sometimes weren’t enough to stay unseen.

Once outside, he wandered over to the MTT soundstage.  The show was still going on, so he slipped inside and stood unnoticed among the crowd for a while.  He figured while he was here, he might as well watch the festivities in progress.  The competition he’d seen on the screen had just ended; the mouse was the proud winner, grinning on a podium with a gold ribbon clutched in her hands.  From there, Mettaton segued into a poem he’d written about Alphys.  He performed it dramatically while gesturing broadly on a rising platform while being sprayed by illuminated gold fountains.  The flared collar he had on was so huge and dramatic that it sometimes upstaged him.  But Sans paid attention to the words of the poem.  He caught all the fat gobs of irony Mettaton had worked in, and that he figured most monsters would probably miss.  Mettaton wasn’t so much talking about Alphys as he was talking about his own complex feelings about her.  From that alone, Sans could tell he was a real mess inside.  But he wasn’t doing another judgment today, so that was something the robot would have to work out on his own.

The poem ended, the audience cheered, and Sans slipped out again.  He found his way back to Hotland and walked until the crowds were behind him.  It was too soon to bother the riverman again, so he’d take the long way back.  Well, not the really long way Toriel had walked.  Sans really did know a few shortcuts.

Once he reached Snowdin, he loitered a while.  The question he had to decide was: was he willing to be seen here?  If he was, folks might start asking where’d he been the last few days.  But that was no problem—he could just tell them he’d been napping.  It was more or less true.  There were problems with being seen, but probably bigger problems if he just disappeared entirely.  People would ask what happened to the little skeleton.  Did he get dusted along with his brother?  Did he follow the old queen into the Ruins?  Nah, probably better to hang out and keep pretending things were more or less the way they’d always been.

So he dropped all his extra cycles and moseyed over to Grillby’s.  Like the town itself, it was almost empty.  Grillby was there, and Bettina was on the big table next to a half-eaten platter of onion cubes and buffalo antennae.  She looked unhappy until her big ears heard Sans and she whirled around to greet him.  “Sansy!!  You’re here!  I’ve been s-s-so lonely, Sansy—come in and keep me company!”

Sans shrugged and sat down next to the disembodied rabbit head.  “i guess everyone went off to the funeral, huh?”

“Y-y-yeah, nobody wanted to carry me!”  Bettina bounced spitefully.  “I don’t know wh-wh-why—I’m a b-bundle of fun!”

Grillby’s huge radio had been wheeled out, and it was playing a slow dirge of a ballad—some tenor singing about a lost love.  Judging by the occasional crowd noises, it was probably the end of the funeral.  “but at least you got to listen to it, huh?” said Sans, indicating the radio.

“Well, yeaah… but if you can’t see the expressions on the p-p-p-people’s faces, it’s just not the same!”

“you a fan of funerals, betty?”

“You know me, Sansy!  I’m a fan of anything that sh-sh-sh-shakes things up!  I’ve had Grillbz mixing up new cocktails for me all day!”

“`\/\/`’;~>|.<” contributed Grillby from behind the bar.

“What’s he saying, Sans?  You kn-kn-know I can’t understand him.”

“i think he’s saying it’s easy to mix new drinks, but most of them aren’t any good.”

“Well of COURSE they’re no good!  We don’t have any fresh ingredients here, so it’s the s-same ingredients, day after day!  I have GOT to get to the overworld someday!”

“eh.  probably not all its cracked up to be.”

“Well, NO, but at least it’d be NEW!” countered Bettina, hopping about the surface of the table.

“sure.  i guess there’s that,” said Sans.  He wandered over to the bar.  “hey grillbz.  i’m thinking of selling the house.  it’s too big for just me.  know anyone who might be interested?”

Grillby had to think a bit, for once.  “-=+$[|]=?-.;”

“eh, maybe i’d pay off my tab.  about time i did that, right?  or maybe i’d just leave that tab open and use it to start a new tab.”

“+o-|::.’{}”, said the proprietor.

“well, there’s not a lot else i feel like doing these days.  to be honest, there wasn’t a lot i felt like doing even before it… you know… happened.  now there’s even less.  but hey, i’ll always have grillby’s right?”

“[…]-`;,-\\|:”

“yeah.  oh and hey, grillby?  if i start not coming around as much… don’t take it personally, ok?  i’m not spending as much time in snowdin these days.”

“.-?-,~}|-,:’

“oh, here and there.  you know how sometimes you just can’t stay put?  you go someplace familiar and you just can’t stay there any longer?”

“:|]|/(*-”

“nah, you’re right.  maybe you wouldn’t know.  you’ve been here basically forever, haven’t you, grillbz?”

“I know how that feels!” interjected Bettina from the big table.  “I get wanderlust all the t-t-time!”

“~~@.@~~\-/||” said Grillby.

“You aren’t gonna leave us, are you Sans?  The f-f-folks around here are so boring, I don’t know wh-what I’d do without you!”

“eh, you’d get by,” said Sans, strolling back over to give the bunny a pat between the ears.  “you make your own fun.”

“Well, sure I do!  But if you meet any h-h-hot guys wherever you’re going, send ‘em my way!”

“will do,” Sans promised.  Funny how making promises didn’t bother him when he knew he’d never have to make good.

He left the bar and was back in the cold.  It felt good.  Before leaving town, he stopped at his house to pack a sloppy box of random things—he’d bring them to the Ruins one poorly organized boxload at a time.  Then he headed down into the tundra for a stroll beside the cliffs.  He thought about stopping to build a mound of snow and put his name on it, but without Papyrus around to bug, he didn’t see the point.

The cliffs led him to the Ruins wall, and instead of bothering to climb up, he just hooked cycle two-oh-one and a half again and slipped back inside, then took a few minutes to warm up.  A little wandering around the catacombs and he found some stairs.  Sans wasn’t in any hurry to get back to the house, aside from being a little tired of lugging the box.

But he didn’t have anything really pressing to spend his time thinking about, either, so it seemed like almost no time at all before he arrived at the yard with the sweeping wind and dead tree.  Could have stayed back in Snowdin, he reminded himself.  If I come here, it’s because I like it here.  So why I am I afraid to walk though that door?

He didn’t have an answer.  So, shrugging mentally against what might come, he set the box of stuff down outside the door and moseyed inside.

There was a big banner strung up over the staircase in the foyer.  “PLEASE FORGIVE US, SANS!”  The letters were made from cut-out scraps of cloth.  The scientist was on a meditation mat and bent down quickly with a hoot when she saw Sans come in.  Toriel hurried hastily out of the kitchen and knelt down on a matching mat.  Both their heads touched the floor at the same time, just as the sound of sacred chants emanated from somewhere.  What in the hell?

The two ladies raised their heads together.  “We have done you wrong, Sans,” they said in unison.  “Is there any path to forgiveness?”

This was really weird.  Sans stared.  “uh.  you, uh.  you really put some work into this, huh?”

Toriel smiled humbly.  “We are willing to put quite a bit more work into it, if it is necessary.”

“Yeah!” chimed Alphys.  “W-we’ll do penance for you!  Whatever punishment you think is fair.”

“It was our foolishness that cost your brother’s life,” said Toriel, “and we have resolved ourselves to paying the price.”

“I’ll do anything,” said Alphys.  “A-a-anything you say!”

What.  The.  Flip.  Sans’ preliminary shrug hadn’t fortified him against this.  Sure, it was kind of funny and kind of touching, but it angered him, too.  “so you decided we’d have a little penance party?  just to get rid of all that pesky guilt?  where’s that chanting coming from?  someone hidden in the rafters?”  He stepped forward and looked up.  Sure enough, two rows of monsters were perched on the open roof beams over the staircase.  Migospels were doing the chanting, while Moldessas and Parsniks provided the background ambience.  Their intonations and hisses petered out when they saw Sans’ disapproval.

“Alphys and I wanted to surprise you with something,” said Toriel.  “And our desire to make things right between us is genuine.  Is there nothing we can do to help you feel better?”

It’s not about you, Sans wanted to snap.  No penance can bring Papyrus back, so how am I supposed to feel better?  But he stopped himself.  Part of his anguish really was the fact that he had to co-exist with Alphys now, after her childish fangirl approach to a human invader had ruined his life.  “i’ve got no truck with you, toriel.  it’s this lizard i’m mad at.”

Alphys slumped in shame.  Toriel straightened, though she was still on her knees. “I understand, Sans.  But I would like to perform any penance that you give Alphys as well.  I am equally guilty, and I would not like her to feel that she is alone.”

Possible punishments flashed through the skeleton’s mind.  Jog around the house until you’re so queasy you throw up.  Go to the part of the catacombs with the holes and fall through the ground a hundred times.  Ask one of these Parsniks to flog you within an inch of your life.  Foremost among his thoughts, though, was: Leave.  Go back to the world and tell them you’re still around, that you faked your death.   Never come back here.

But he couldn’t say that, could he?  In fact, he couldn’t in good conscience say any of those things, knowing that Toriel was going to do them too.  Aside from the fact that, deep down, he didn’t want to be the cause of someone getting hurt.  He was angry, more angry than he’d realized—blisteringly angry.  But that was a step up, wasn’t it?  He’d hated Alphys.  When you hate someone, you don’t care about their internal struggles; you just want them gone.  Now, the fact he was so indescribably angry at this stammering weeaboo dork… meant he wanted her to change.  And that meant that on some level, he did want her around.

And with that, he felt his eyes going dark.  Oh well.  Might as well roll with it.  “g o   i n t o   s n o w d i n   t o w n   w i t h   a   d i s g u i s e .     v i s i t   t h e   p u b ,   t h e   i n n ,   t h e   l i b r a r y ,   e v e r y w h e r e .    a s k   t h e   m o n s t e r s   w h at   p a p y r u s   w a s   l i k e .    d o n ’ t   s t o p   u n t i l   y o u ’ v e   a s k e d   e v e r y o n e   y o u   c a n   f i n d.     t h e n   c o m e   b a c k   h e r e   a n d   t e l l   m e   w h a t   y o u ’ v e   l e a r n e d .”

They both stared at him in shock.  Were they unsettled by his ‘serious’ voice, or was the punishment not what they were expecting?

“I-I-I’ll do it,” said Alphys.  “I… I’ll need some time to make a good disguise, so they don’t know it’s me.  But I’ll go… I’ll spend a whole day there.  I’ll listen to everyone.”

“And I will go as well,” declared Toriel.

Sans closed his eyes.

Toriel gently touched his shoulder.  “I think this is an excellent idea,” she said.  “Thank you, Sans, for giving us this chance.”

He slumped in place.  “no problem.”

The small monsters flocked out, now chanting and singing again, some of the Migospels giving sermons over each other.  Sans just stood there, barely watching them leave.  He was in pain again, even though he wasn’t the one who was going to have to suffer through a day being stabbed by guilt again and again.  Because if Alphys really did this… he was going to have to forgive her.  Somehow, he really was going to have to find a way.

It had to happen, though.  Because these two weren’t going to be happy until they’d had a chance to make things square.  And he really did want them to be happy, whatever it took.

The riverman had been right, he realized.  There really wasn’t any difference between wanting others to be happy and being happy yourself.  No more than between a cake that had been a bag of flour and one that’d been a cake in the first place.

Something on the air caught his attention.  Speaking of cake, what was in the oven?  “toriel?” he asked, walking into the kitchen.  “you think something might be burning?”

Toriel gasped and hurried into the kitchen.  “Sans, you arrived home at just the wrong time!”

The cake wound up fine, just a little singed around the bottom corners.  It was decorated like a skeleton wearing sunglasses on his biceps.  “CoolSkeleton95,” said the icing across his blazer.

“This is all I could remember about what he looked like,” said Alphys apologetically.

There were candles burning in his eyes, and another at the tip of his grinning thumbs-up.  “don’t worry about it,” said Sans, as Toriel lovingly cut the first slice.  “it’s perfect.”

[&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&]

Chapter Text

[+]

Scene 26: The Light Shines In

or

“Once Upon a Time”

It was, indeed, a long and trying day. But it was good, Toriel reflected, to be tried in this way. It was good to purge guilt from oneself when it was possible, but before that could be accomplished, it was necessary to understand the nature of the misdeed one had performed. And Toriel had not known Papyrus, except through Sans’s stories. She was therefore delighted to know him further through the stories of others. Toriel had failed to consider the danger her children might pose to the outside world, so worried had she been about what the outside world might do to them. But by attempting to raise humans without taking this into account, she had been playing with fire, and she must never forget that. Fire was a tool and a sacrament; it could be shaped and used and tempered and even loved, but it was not to be played with. Toriel’s mother had taught her that as a child, and she remembered the lesson well. She had even taught it to Natalia, whose own love for fire had been downright unhealthy.

And she had known how dangerous humans could be. They were strong and willful and fiercely material, and could dissipate the stuff of monsters with a mere few blows. She could still feel the spot in her side where her eighth child had shot her with an imaginary bullet; she had bled copiously nonetheless. Aside from that terrible day, she had taken care not to let her children harm her or the monsters about the Ruins. And yet somehow, the presence of Asgore’s regime had blinded her to the danger that they might inflict on monsters outside her domain. In a way it was an understandable oversight, but she had overlooked it for nine centuries. Now her error had plunged her kindest and most valued friend into a profound grief. Toriel was guilty, and for that, she was doing penance today.

“HE TALKED LIKE THIS ALL THE TIME,” said a red-orange monster with horns. “And he was always grinning, except when he was angry. And sometimes even then!”

“Wh-why would he grin if he was angry?” asked Alphys.

“He couldn’t help it! That’s just how he was made.”

“So then… his smile didn’t mean anything?”

“Oh, no, it made him feel better, whether he wanted to or not! He got angry about little things, but he never stayed that way for long.”

“And he was an optimist,” said the mouse accompanying the first monster, speaking through a thick scarf. “To an absurd degree.”

“What do you mean?” asked Toriel.

“Once I asked him what was going to happen when Snowdin got too crowded. He thought for a while before coming out with, ‘More parties?’ He was adorable. We’re going to miss him a lot, I just know it.”

The two of them were dressed in elaborate costumes they had made in collaboration over the course of two days. Toriel was dressed as a Careplane, one of the larger monsters in the Underground. Her body was covered in metal, and her arms were held raised and flat within the broad, perpendicular, heart-emblazoned wings. It was uncomfortable, but bearable. Alphys had embellished herself into a red wormlike monster, segmented and gooey. Toriel could not help but sense a bit of self-hatred in her costume choice, but did not object, because after all, this was a day of penance. Their voices were disguised with filters they wore over their mouths. Alphys had created them without the benefit of tools or laboratory, which made the results she had obtained especially remarkable. Toriel’s voice, through a modified pair of colanders hidden inside her nosecone, sounded like an official making announcements over a speaker, while Alphys had managed to make her own voice unctuous and manifold with nothing more than a few straws and the lid of a pepper shaker. Her genius really was as amazing to watch in action as Toriel had hoped.

“He always found the Junior Jumble oddly challenging,” said the puzzle designer for the Snowdin Bugle. “More than once, he stormed in insisting that the Jumble that day had no solution. But of course, it always did, and he was always equally amazed when we showed it to him.”

“He sounds almost like a child,” Toriel ventured.

“He acted like a child,” agreed the editor. “With all the exuberance, dreams and wonder you would expect to accompany it.”

“B-but he was powerful, right?” asked Alphys, twisting her annelid body.

“He had a lot of will. To be sure, his magic was strong!”

“Then… w-was he dangerous?”

“Oh, dear, no. For all his bluster, he was the gentlest soul you could hope for. He may have made a mess or two, but could never have caused any real harm.”

They were posing as interviewers from The Lodestar , Hotland’s premier newspaper, doing a monster interest piece on the recent passage of the regicidal human through the underground. No one questioned their story, and nearly everyone they spoke to had something to say about the intrepid sentry who had until recently added vibrancy to their snowy homeland.

“He was good about taking off the junk those teens put on my antlers,” said a grumpy old stag. “After I explained how annoying it was, that is. Before that, he was right there with them, loading me up with tchotchke after tchotchke—but that was when for some gobforsaken reason he thought I found it fun.”

“He wasn’t chill at ALL,” said a scaled monster with snowlike plumage and sunglasses. “He was a total poser. The complete OPPOSITE of chill. Like, he always cared SO MUCH and tried SO HARD!”

“A… and being chill means you don’t care or try at all?” asked Alphys.

“Ba-ringo. It was embarrassing just looking at him. Heck, it’s embarrassing even THINKING about him!

“Ah! The sound of the free press in action! Maybe if I wait, I’ll hear it again!”

Toriel knocked on the door a second time. “Does that mean you would like to grant us an interview?”

“Being asked for an interview! How lovely! How flattering! It makes me feel almost important.”

“…I do not understand. Is that a yes?”

“And now I’m being asked for clarification! Ahhh, it’s good to know the press is in such competent hands.”

A passing slime mold interrupted, clearing his throat. “You won’t get anything out of him. But if you’re asking about the tall skeleton, I can tell you he was a veritable fount of youthful energy!”

“Oh! Did you know him well?” asked Alphys.

“Not at all! But just watching him from a distance made me feel young again.”

“Huh? Did he ditch us? Some sentry,” said Jerry. Toriel had no idea who any of the other monsters in Snowdin were, but everyone knows Jerry.

“Were you unaware?” said Toriel. “He was slain not long ago by a human that he attempted to capture.”

“DUH! Who doesn’t know that? Man, he SUCKED at his job.”

“W-well, humans are very dangerous,” contributed Alphys.

“So is a town without any decent donuts. But does ANYONE care about that? I don’t think so!”

“Thanks for your time,” said Alphys.

“He was a big part of how things got done around here!” said a pudgy bear in a jacket. “We don’t have a mayor, and that means folks have to step up!”

“Did he ‘step up’ a lot?” asked Toriel.

“He might’ve been our best stepper! You know, people talk about maturity and competence, but in trying times, what you really need is initiative! Someone who wants to make a difference actually living the talk and making one!”

“Y-you know what?” said Alphys. “I agree! What are you doing for the town?”

The bear looked at himself. “Me? I just tell people about how the work gets done!”

Toriel tilted her wings in a way she hoped conveyed confusion. “You are not willing to step up yourself?”

“Nah, that’s for folks like Papyrus. I’m not as interested in helping people as I am in thinking about helping people.”

“But… but that’s cowardly!” objected Alphys.

“Cowardly? Nah. Thaaaaat’s politics!”

They passed through the purple forest doors chatting and laughing with each other. Toriel carefully locked the door behind them and slid down, letting her wingtips rest on the corridor floor. “Ahh. Safe at last!”

Alphys too slumped, her realistic costume exuding slime where she slid. “That was so stressful!”

“But it was no more than we deserved, and now it is over,” Toriel replied. She rested a moment before struggling to remove her costume.

“Oh! Right! We get to take these off!” Alphys forced herself up to help Toriel with her wings.

“Finally!” she said, stretching her arms.

“Finally!” exulted Alphys, popping off her tapered head.

The two of them broke into spontaneous laughter as they looked at each other. Then they helped to remove one another’s costumes until they were left in their pajamas. Then they laughed again.

“Oh, god, do you think Sans will like me now?” said Alphys.

Toriel felt for her. “I do not know if he is ready to like you. You must realize that will be hard for him. But surely, now that we have done his penance, he will be ready to forgive you.”

They approached the stairs, dragging their costumes along behind. Suddenly all laughter was gone, as well it should be. The penitents must not return home merrily. They must return in somber silence, reflecting on the weight of what they had allowed to happen. A childlike, vivacious soul, cut cruelly from his place in the world, leaving an emptiness. That was what their carelessness had wrought. That was the weight they must bear, until they were both absolved and able to cry it away.

“What a p-piece of work I am,” said Alphys. “All that joy lost in an instant, and I just… shrugged and ignored it. ‘Humans will be humans,’ I said. And I went on with my plan. I’m s-s-so self-absorbed!”

And still she was speaking about herself. “It is good that you have been awakened to that fact,” Toriel told her. “You will be better able to confront your fault now that you are aware of it.”

Alphys swallowed as they climbed the stairs. “I guess. But how can I focus on not being self-absorbed without… being more self-absorbed?”

“We will face that question in good time. For now, it is time for us to face our confessor.” They reached the top of the stairs, but Sans was nowhere to be seen. Toriel peeked into the living room. He was not there. She knocked on the door to his bedroom.

“mmp? hol’on. yeah. hi. sorry, you caught me sleeping. just a minute.” Not ten seconds later, Sans opened the door, looking somewhat bleary but not much different than usual. “whoops. i even forgot to say ‘who’s there?’ guess that’s what i get for taking a before-dinner nap.”

Alphys spoke from behind Toriel. “Well… we’re back! And we, uh… we did what you said.”

“yeah?” The skeleton stood staring for a little too long. “guess we should talk about it, then. but first, let’s see if dinner’s ready.”

Toriel suddenly realized that there had been a nice smell coming from the kitchen. “Did you put something in the oven, Sans?”

He strolled out past them. “yeah, just a beetloaf.”

“A… a beetloaf?” asked Alphys.

“i had a few beets lying around the house. pappy never wanted to cook with ‘em, but i figured you guys might appreciate them.”

Toriel had been expecting to have to make dinner, so this was a welcome surprise. “I will be happy to eat anything you wish to share with us, Sans. But how did you happen to have beets lying around the house?”

“they grow at the salt marsh at the edge of waterfall, in the south, where i like to wander sometimes. when i run across ‘em, i can’t help but pick ‘em.”

“But… but why, if your brother doesn’t like them?” asked Alphys.

He turned and winked. “when you’re in comedy, you don’t miss a beet.” A rimshot rang through the small house.

He had, as it turned out, made a salad, too. The beetloaf had turned out very well—a striking, juicy red with a soft texture. They brought it to the dining table and enjoyed it, at Sans’s insistence, with ketchup. The salad was crisp and complemented it well.

“This is excellent, Sans!” Toriel complimented. “You have been holding out on us.”

“nah. i’ve just been lazy. figured you deserved it, what with the day you were gonna have.”

“It’s really good,” Alphys echoed, greens sticking out of her mouth. “I don’t get as many vegetables as I should.”

“well, you know what they say about vegetables,” said Sans.

“I do not—what do you mean?” said Toriel.

He shrugged. “they’re nature’s candies.”

“Really?”

He paused to absorb a bite. “well, okay. fruits are nature’s candies. vegetables are more like nature’s fruits.”

“That makes a little more sense,” agreed Alphys, sipping from her yellow teacup.

Toriel’s eyes crossed. “Does it?”

“To me it does!”

“and candies are nature’s canned goods,” Sans continued.

“Now you are just being silly,” Toriel scolded.

“whoops. sorry, tori. i’ll behave.”

She sighed and exchanged a glance with Alphys. “So.”

“so,” said Sans.

“You are probably eager to hear about our trip to your hometown.”

“dunno if eager’s the word. but yeah, i’d like to know what you’ve learned.”

So they began, hesitantly at first, to describe what the townsfolk had told them about Papyrus in response to their questions. Sometimes the two of them took turns; sometimes they spoke over each other, though Toriel tried to keep her interruptions minimal. Dinner ended, but their exposition was far from over. They wandered into the foyer, filling in parts for each other, piping up again and again with quotes they’d forgotten. They barely needed the notes they had taken in their guise as newspaper reporters. Sans barely said anything, so exuberant and open were the two women. Perhaps too exuberant for the somber subject at hand, but they could hardly be blamed if they were excited to have learned, could they?

“…that he sometimes even thought the checkered tablecloths were puzzles,” Alphys reported, “and he moved the salt and pepper shakers as if they were checkers on a checkerboard, and it got him consternated, but no one wanted to tell him it wasn’t a puzzle because sometimes he solved it, and he sat up in triumph with such a big grin that everyone couldn’t help but congratulate him!” Toriel noticed that her companion was not stuttering in her account.

“yep, that sounds like him, all right,” said Sans.

“And, uh, that’s about it!”

“that’s it, huh? well, that was a lot. so what’d you learn?”

Alphys had to think a while. Toriel put a hand on her shoulder; this drew the lizard’s attention before she looked back to Sans. “I guess the real takeaway is that Papyrus was an amazing guy… despite the fact that he didn’t seem like it at first. On the cameras, I mean, when I… when I saw him there. In actuality, though, he was… he was really valuable, but I didn’t realize it, and I… just let the human go meet him on the road, and…” She swallowed.

“i let him go out there too,” Sans reminded her quietly.

“R-r-right. And when… when I s-saw it h-h-happen… I, um…” She seemed to be having trouble, so Toriel patted her shoulder. “…when I saw it, I…. I didn’t do anything about it! I just… I didn’t let it bother me. I just went on fantasizing about the human, as if… as if that one life was nothing, just a mistake, just… just a blip!” She trembled and bit her tongue. “I was… really, really wrong to do that. I—” And now the reptile’s confidence broke down. She hung her head and sobbed. Toriel kept her hand planted firmly on her back, kneading gently to let her friend know that she cared. Sans watched, angling his head but doing nothing else.

“That was a huge mistake,” cried Alphys, raising her head through her tears. “H-h-huge! I… I was so obsessed with my own dream… absorbed in my own f-fantasies, really… that I…” She wept again. “I forgot what a life is worth. What a person is worth.” She hunched tightly for a moment. “I guess… I guess I was so used to thinking of myself as… as garbage that I…” She fell silent again, letting her eyes close.

“…say it,” ordered Sans.

She took a deep breath. “…that I forgot that life is actually worth something. It’s worth a lot, isn’t it? It’s worth… it’s worth the most, of anything! And I… I forgot.” She sniffled and choked on her tears, coughing violently. Toriel squeezed her shoulder firmly for reassurance.

At last, Alphys cleared her throat. “I’m…” She looked to Toriel if for approval. “I’m not garbage, am I? I’m… I’m not. I mean… I made a really huge mistake, and that means I… I have a really deep flaw, maybe more than one, maybe… maybe a lot of them. But… I’m worth something too, aren’t I?” It was such a hopeful tone, so full of discovery. “I may have gigantic flaws, but…. there’s… there good too, right, and the good is m-m-m-maybe sometimes… stronger than the bad?” Toriel tightened her lips, longing to speak, but knowing she must not interrupt this moment. “It’s true, isn’t it? I’m not worthless. I’m not a pile of walking trash. No… no more than Papyrus was… expendable.” She swung around to face Sans, suddenly desperate. “Is it true? Sans… Toriel… is it true?”

“it’s true, kid,” said Sans.

“Alphys. Of course it is true.” Toriel stooped and lifted Alphys in the midst of her epiphany so that she could hug her tightly. “What have I been telling you? What have I been telling you?” She placed one finger on the lizard’s snout. “Know that you are valued. Know that you are loved.”

Alphys peered up, her face at the level of Toriel’s breast. “I guess I just thought you were m-m-making a mistake. Do you… do you really mean it?”

“Of course I do, dear one. Of course.” Toriel caught herself swaying back and forth with Alphys as if comforting a baby. That, she thought, was a bit much, so she set the scientist down and took a seat herself, so as not to tower over her.

Alphys stared at Toriel in amazement. Then she turned to Sans as if for her judgment.

He paused a moment. “gotta say, i didn’t think you would get so much outta that assignment. i’m glad i had you do it. i’m even glad you put up that ridiculous banner and got those monsters to come and chant. it looks like it worked out for the best.”

“Does that mean, Sans,” Toriel ventured, “that we are forgiven for what we did?”

He didn’t say anything for a while. Neither Toriel nor Alphys dared to interrupt, but the silence lasted a long time. A minute, most likely. Finally, Sans gave his head a tiny shake and reoriented himself. “sorry. i was just…” He bowed his head slightly. “…you guys have done your jobs, and now i’ve got to do mine. but it’s not coming easy.”

“…Y-your job?”

He planted his hands firmly in his pockets. “i’ve gotta forgive you. i didn’t want to. but that’s not fair of me. i’m the one who’s suffering, sure, and in a way, you two helped cause it. but when i’m honest with myself, it’s not your fault i’m suffering as much as i am. it’s mine.”

Though Toriel did not quite understand the nature of Sans’s strife, she knew that he, too, needed comforting. But he could not be picked up and hugged. “Will you share with us what you mean?”

His breathing became audible, a rare occurrence. “not everyone’s as close with their brother as i was. and that’s the way i chose to make it. i don’t want to get into the details, but… i kinda put all my emotional eggs in one basket.”

Toriel did not know what to say to that, but fortunately, Alphys did. “Sans? Did you have any parents? You must have, right, because you had a grandfather?”

“well, we had a mom,” he replied. “she was a good person. wish i’d gotten to know her better.”

Alphys stared. “What happened to her?”

“earthquake. she was on the geologic response team. dangerous work, but if you’re a certain kind of person, it’s the kind of job you can’t just let somebody else do. mom was that kind of person.”

Toriel took this in. She wondered if it meant he had a hole in his soul where a mother’s love once was… and whether he saw her as a way to fill it.

“Oh!” said Alphys. “I really admire the geologic team. Fighting the natural flow of the planet… putting their lives on the line… I wish I could be h-half that brave. You must have been so proud of her.”

“i was. i had the coolest mom on the planet, and i made sure the other kids knew it. believe it or not, i wasn’t really popular when i was young.”

“H-how come?”

“well. let’s just say i was kind of full of myself. i was top of the class, good at bone magic… then mom got crushed in a vertical rupture event, and… i didn’t know how to take it. i didn’t understand. pap was great—giving comfort, looking on the bright side… but the other kids sensed weakness, and they pounced. i went from the showoff that everyone puts up with to the miserable kid that everyone picks on. pap and i had to go and live with gaster, or grandpa semi, as he was known back then. it wasn’t long before gramps pulled me out of school entirely. i just wasn’t cutting it there anymore, and besides, he had things to teach me.”

“Wow,” said Alphys. “I didn’t know Gaster raised you.”

“well, i was already half raised by then. he raised me the rest of the way. i helped him with his labwork. pap tried to help too, but he just didn’t take to it like i did, so gramps let him stay in school. i didn’t meet a lot of people back then. but i learned a lot. a hell of a lot.”

Alphys set her hands on Sans’s shoulder. She did not strike Toriel as the type to touch someone without a reason; as such, her fondness for the skeleton was made all the more clear. “Gaster really was a good teacher, wasn’t he? He was a little h-hard to understand sometimes, but that just made me want to try harder. He had the most amazing mind…”

Sans looked at the floor. “yeah. and he had principles. go against one, and he educates you. hard. go against it again, knowingly… and you’re out of his life forever.”

Toriel inhaled sharply. “Is that what happened to you, Sans?”

“…yeah. i did something he couldn’t forgive. and he sent me packing. i was pretty much grown up by then, but still. it hurt hard. about as hard as when mom died.”

“I’m—I’m—I’m sorry,” Alphys blurted.

“but papyrus. he was always there to comfort me. losing mom, leaving school… the tough times i went through with gaster, and then the big falling out. then later on, when we heard gaster’d destroyed himself in an experiment. whenever i needed comfort, my younger brother was always there to give it to me. and his bright, unstoppable cheerfulness? it was exactly what i needed.”

It must be what you need now, Toriel did not say. She sat down on the floor and did her best to cross her legs. She had not kept herself as supple as she would have liked.

“So you really came to depend on him,” Alphys gathered.

“not just that. he depended on me. he heard they needed sentries to capture humans, so he became one, and i did too. that way, he got to chastise me whenever i didn’t put my full backbone into it, and i got to be around him at work. eventually it got to the point where i didn’t really care much about anything but keeping him safe. except for keeping him happy, i guess. if it wasn’t for that, i never would have let that human get near him. but he knew he had to catch a human if he ever wanted to get into the royal guard, and i didn’t want to take that chance away. never thought another human would come down in my lifetime, and this one was just a kid. seemed like a nice kid, too. i knew he’d never get a better chance.” Sans put his face in his hands. “so i let them play.”

Toriel reached out to hold Sans, while Alphys cuddled him on the other side. They looked at each other. All of his emotional eggs in one basket, indeed.

“hey alphys.” Sans suddenly faced her head-on. “you didn’t have anything to do with the experiment that took out gaster, did you?”

The lizard was caught in the crossbeams. “Um… w-well, I was there, I mean, I was one of his assistants… it was me and Llewyn…”

“i know llewyn. so what happened? i never got the details.”

From Alphys’s anxious look, Toriel got the impression that there were secrets involved here she was not meant to hear. But she would stay—this was important to both her housemates, and they had not asked her to leave.

“It was the machine,” said Alphys. “He was trying to t-test a theory of time he’d developed. The idea was that… light is the medium that carries time.” Another nervous glance at Toriel. “It started out with his observation that light is n-nearly, but not quite instantaneous, and he speculated that one quantum of light—a photon—might be equivalent to the smallest possible amount of time. This was, um, backed up by my, uh, my human storybooks, which keep referring to spaceships that travel ‘faster than light.’ As if that’s a really significant thing. But the stories aren’t true, which means even human scientists haven’t figured out any way to go faster than light. Light seems to be the limit. But Gaster theorized that maybe… the amount of light present in any given environment determines how fast time moves there. The more light, the faster it moves, which explains why time seems to pass so quickly in bright, cheery places like upper Hotland, while in dark, glum places like central Waterfall it drags on and on… just because of a relatively small light differential. Is this making sense so far?”

“yup,” said Sans. “he used to talk about this same theory to me. it was only half baked back then, though.”

“Oh. Well, did he mention the part that relates to sleep?”

“don’t think so.”

“Gaster thought that maybe the reason we sleep best in the dark is because we need to slow down in order to get the full benefits of sleep. Our heartrate has to slow down, or we can’t fall asleep in the first place. When you sleep, you l-lose track of time, and when you wake up, you usually don’t know what time it is. That’s because there isn’t much light to keep time moving. But even when we sleep in a dark place with our eyes closed, a small amount of light still gets in through the cracks of the room and through our eyelids. That’s why we dream! But there’s so little light that time passes very slowly for us when we sleep… which is why you can have a dream that seems to go on forever, with scene after scene… but then you wake up, and it turns out it’s only been an hour and a half. Aheh.”

“Alphys, that is fascinating!” Toriel interjected.

“Yeah! I thought so too. So… Gaster wanted to try getting rid of all the light in a sealed room, just to see if he could… escape time. If light is what carries time, what happens when there’s no time at all?”

“That sounds extraordinarily dangerous.”

“Yep,” she said quietly, nodding. “It was.”

“And yet you went along with it?”

The scientist’s voice went soft. “…What you have to understand about Gaster is… he didn’t think much about danger. If he had the chance to learn something that no one had ever learned before… he took it. He… he c-cared a little about his assistants’ safety, but I really don’t think he gave any weight to his own at all.” She looked uncertainly to Sans.

“i guess he must have changed. when i knew him, he wasn’t reckless. driven, sure. but he made sure he stayed alive to care for his grandkids.”

“But then you moved out,” Alphys pointed out. “And I guess he was able to… let go.”

Sans considered. “so what went wrong?”

“Well, h-he built a chamber of darkness, and evacuated all the photons from it. As training, me and Llewyn had to practice operating sensors and controls in the dark. We made them work by sound and feel. The photons all got sent away, bit by bit, until they were all gone… and there we were, in a darkness so cutting it was scary, and I honestly can’t remember how long we were there. It felt like…” She shivered. “Well, like a lifetime, but it was gone so fast…”

“so what was the next step?” asked Sans. “there had to be a next step.”

“He’d directed us in building a machine,” Alphys continued, “meant to bombard an object with something he’d discovered called dark light. B-basically, it’s a form of radiation with all the same properties of light… except you can’t see it. Aheh. The machine was d-designed so you could open an aperture and adjust how much dark light came out, at what frequencies… the plan was to test it on a random object. A c-croissant we had lying around the lab…”

“dark light, huh? made of dark photons, i guess?”

“Yeah. And it… well, when we bombarded the croissant, nothing, um, nothing happened. Or so it seemed. We didn’t sense anything, but then again, with no light, we couldn’t be sure if the croissant was still there unless we felt it. So, Dr. Gaster reached out to feel the croissant. And, um… the dark light must have still been lingering on it somehow, because it suffused him… and he… um…”

“he didn’t make it.”

“He made it almost too well! Suddenly, we could hear him from multiple directions, saying more than one different thing! It was like we were being b-b-bombarded by particles of Gaster! We tried to talk to him and do what he said, but it was just too confusing, and too scary, and we had to get out of there. Llewyn was… he was terrified. He gave up science completely! I tried to save him… I adjusted the machine and tried bombarding the croissant with normal light to undo whatever had happened… but after I left the dark chamber the first time, Gaster was gone. I never heard his voice again… except in dreams.”

“do you dream about him a lot?” asked Sans.

Alphys shivered. “I wish I didn’t.”

“you know what happened to the machine?”

“Well, it belonged to Gaster, so it was dispensed according to his will. I don’t know who wound up with it. I didn’t go to the reading of the will. I was shaken up enough from his funeral and I wasn’t in… in a good place.”

“he left it to me,” said Sans. “i’ve still got it.”

Alphys seemed to struggle with that news. “Oh.”

“never knew what it did. i should bring it here. we could work on it together.”

She shivered again. Toriel shuffled over on her knees and hugged her. “Sans, can you not see that you are disturbing her? I expect she never wants to see that machine again.”

“sorry, al. i just thought maybe we could… you know, look for him. see if he’s still out there.”

Alphys hugged Toriel tightly. “I d-don’t know if I’m strong enough for that. Maybe I could… work my way up to it?”

“sure. we’ll talk. you don’t mind if i just bring the machine back, do you? i won’t do anything with it without checking in.”

“W-well, I guess having it here couldn’t hurt. I’m going to have my own place, anyway.”

Toriel released her. “Does this mean that Mr. Gaster is not deceased? Are you suggesting that he still exists, somehow, in a way that we do not understand?”

“there’s more out there than we know,” said Sans.

“Y-y-yeah,” agreed Alphys. “It can be overwhelming sometimes.”

Toriel reflected on the strange creature she had vanquished that had been tormenting the narrow-eyed child. A flower with a face… she had never heard of such a thing, yet it existed. If she had only let it finish the job, would there now be more happiness in the world? “Speaking of the overwhelming… I think we are all tired from our day. May I take it, Sans, that you are still not prepared to forgive us?”

“i forgive you, toriel. i already did, really. you didn’t know what that kid really was.” He turned to Alphys. “it’s the fact that you saw them kill my brother and still decided to idolize them… that’s the part i can’t wrap my head around. i know you know it was wrong. i know you regret it, and i don’t think you’d do it again. still. i could say those three words, but i don’t think i could mean them. and i don’t want to say i forgive you if i don’t mean it.”

Alphys sniffled. “It’s okay. I don’t think I deserve forgiveness either. I’m just h-hoping we can be friends, somehow, anyway.”

“hey. alphys. you do deserve forgiveness. today you earned it. it’s just… i’m not strong enough to give it to you.”

“Oh. I—I see. Well… I understand. I should probably get to bed. Talking about Gaster… isn’t the easiest thing.”

“it sure isn’t. see you in the morning, kid.”

Alphys paused on her way to bed. “D-did you call me kid? You know I’m twenty-seven years old, right? You can’t be much older than that.”

Sans shrugged. “eh. it’s a compliment. you’re a kid at heart.”

“Oh. Sure. …I—I guess. Good night.”

“Good night, Alphys,” said Toriel. “May you have sweet dreams.”

Alphys flashed a smile back before walking off. They soon heard the click of the door at the end of the hall. So that Toriel could reclaim her bedroom, they had given Alphys the room that had once been Asgore’s. It now had a bed in it, but nothing more—after all, she would soon be moving out.

Toriel walked back into the living room and sat down in her chair. “Well,” she said.

Sans went to the bookshelf and leaned against it, casually scanning the titles. “so. you been enjoying those new books i brought you? are you tearing through ‘em, or taking them slow?”

The change in subject made her wonder whether he was avoiding something. “I am taking them slowly, Sans. I have learned to savor my entertainment. But do you have nothing to say on the conversation that has just transpired?”

He shrugged. “i said i didn’t want to get into details. so much for that, huh?”

Toriel frowned. “You still have not said what drove your grandfather to disown you.”

“huh? no, i guess i haven’t.” He stood staring at the books.

“Is it another difficult memory?”

He was silent. She remembered him telling her that she could always ask him anything she wanted… so long as she didn’t expect an answer.

“I am sorry, Sans. But it seems to me that it may serve us all better if you can… swallow your anger and tell Alphys that you forgive her for what she did. Even if it is not how you truly feel.”

The way he looked at her was a bit unnerving. He seemed genuinely surprised. “you mean lie to alphys? i thought you were some kind of ‘pillar of integrity’ or something.”

Oh, really. “I do try to be truthful most of the time, yes. But there are some principles more important than unflinching honesty, Sans. One of them is that it is wrong to hurt people. You have admitted that Alphys has earned forgiveness. Is it really right to keep her in limbo, believing herself unforgivable?”

“i can’t do it, tori. it’d be a slap in my brother’s face.”

“Your brother… Sans, if your brother was anything like what the monsters of Snowdin say he was, he would agree with me! Alphys is struggling to like herself, and if the three of us are to live together in the Ruins, we will need each other. Would Papyrus not want you and her to make peace?”

It was like she had slapped him, the way he winced. Had she gone too far? She stood up to approach him, but he looked her straight in the eyes.

“what can i say, tori? he probably would. doesn’t mean i can do it.”

Well, this was a fine kettle. Her hopes of spending a happy age with a happy couple were on the brink of the drain. “Sans, are you unaware that she is fond of you!?”

He looked bewildered. “fond of me? what do you mean?”

Toriel clenched her fists. “She is enamored with you, Sans, or at least so I gather. She wants to like you, but you have erected a wall between her and yourself! Is Alphys truly such a terrible person? Can you not give her a chance?”

Sans stood there and scratched his head. “you mean she’s sweet on me? sorry, tori, i honestly hadn’t noticed.”

She sighed. “When you left so abruptly the other day, Alphys came out of bed to speak with me. We discussed the distant past, and she revealed things I had not known about my own children—the contents of the videotape we did not play. At one point, she asked whether you and I were a couple. Whether we share a bed.”

This did seem to stun Sans somewhat. “you think she was checking to see if i was spoken for?”

“Her question was out of the blue. I can think of no other reason. She finds you attractive, Sans, and no doubt intelligent, and the fact you share a connection through your grandfather only strengthens the bond you could share.”

“huh. you really think me and her could be… a thing?”

“I would not doubt it! And if I may be honest, it would make me so happy. These desolate old catacombs could use a little love! But before anything can bloom between you… you must first forgive her!”

Toriel realized her hands were still clenched. She was embarrassed to be meddling so hard in another’s love life… but it was not just romance they were discussing. It was the question of whether there would be harmony in their small community.

Sans took a deep, silent breath and looked far away, apparently lost. His head sagged. But then, after a long moment, he lifted it. “tori. do you remember how your conversation led up to alphys asking that question?”

She thought back dutifully. The truth about Ziggy and Asriel… leaving the tapes behind… “It was a non-sequitor. She said that she felt naked without her technology, and I told her… that if she is to begin her life anew here, perhaps it is right for her to feel naked. And then she asked.”

Sans’s eyes grew dark and deep. Then he chuckled. After a pause, he chuckled further, aggravating Toriel. “What is it?” she asked.

“let me get this straight, tori. you’d just had a deep, connecting moment with alphys. you know she admires you like nobody’s business. then you talked about her being naked, and suddenly, out of nowhere, she asks if you and me are a couple. and your conclusion is… she wants to be with me?”

His tone of voice suggested that she was being an utter fool, but for the life of her Toriel could not see what she was missing. “If you are implying something, Sans, kindly come out with it!”

His smile was comforting, broad. “tori. she doesn’t care about me. she wants you. she wanted to know if you were unattached.”

Toriel felt her mouth fall open. What? The idea was so strange that she had not even considered it; her head swam. “Are you serious?”

“come to think of it, it all adds up. she didn’t seem too down about having to go and spend the day doing penance in snowdin… probably because it meant time spent with you. tori, she gave up a spot beside the throne, not to mention everything else in her life… all to speak up for you during your speech. and then, driven to the brink of suicide, what was the one thing she could think of that seemed better than jumping off a cliff?”

Toriel felt her throat tightening. “Coming here… to be with me.”

“exactly. i’m actually surprised i didn’t see it before, tori. she’s head over heels for you.”

Could it actually be true? Was Alphys really so foolish as that? “But Sans, I am just a silly old lady! And I am not glamorous. If anything, I am plain! How could she possibly be attracted to me?”

Again, the chuckling. Sans shook his head slowly. “oh, toriel. you have no idea.”

She exhaled softly. “No, I suppose I do not. Will you please explain?”

He smirked. “nah, i don’t think so. you’re cuter this way.”

This was beginning to irritate Toriel. “Sans, I am well over a hundred times her age!”

“so you’ve got a few years on her. doesn’t mean love can’t sprout. didn’t mettaton say she’s got a crush on the unknowable?”

Her lips tightened. Her chest was growing warm. “Are you saying that I am unknowable, Sans?”

“i’m just saying you’re not as simple as you think, tori. you’ve got depths. i can see why a girl like alphys might want to dive in.”

Dive in? Now he was making her sound like a swimming pool. “This is so incredibly awkward. If you are right, Sans… and I am not saying you are… then it will be very difficult letting her down.”

He grinned. “you don’t have to.”

“Are you saying I should not address the issue?”

His grin grew. “i’m saying maybe you shouldn’t let her down. if it’s difficult, why do it? i wouldn’t.”

Was he really implying…? “Sans… I am mourning my husband, my lifemate for millennia! I cannot very well date a diminutive twenty-seven-year-old reptile who reads comic books!”

He spread his arms. “nothing’s stopping you, tori. you can date her. only question is, do you want to?”

This was ridiculous. It was embarrassing even to contemplate. “She is a woman, Sans. I am not interested in other women that way.”

“no? are you sure? when’s the last time you dated one?”

The answer was never. Reluctantly, she supposed he did have a point. There was a beauty to the feminine spirit—and to the feminine form—that Toriel admired, much as any aesthete would. It was conceivable that, had it not been her destiny to bear a child, she might have married a woman. But were not males and females meant to complement one another?

Then again, it was not as if there was only one kind of complementary relation. Individuals had a wide variety of traits, and sex was only one among many. She and Alphys certainly differed… and there were certainly ways in which they complemented each other…

“whatcha thinkin’ bout, tori?” ribbed Sans.

She wrinkled her nose at him. “You are feeding an old lady fantasies. You should be ashamed.”

“why would i be ashamed of that? seems to me that’s one of the best things a person can do.”

That brought Toriel up short. It was true… fantasies were worth something. And before the news of Asgore’s death, it had been a long time since she had had any new ones. And yet… this?

She eased herself delicately back into her chair, as if her bones might break. “Are you merely trolling me, Sans? Or do you honestly think I should pursue a relationship with Dr. Alphys?”

He turned to the fireplace. “well, you said yourself this place could use a little love.”

Well. She had said that, hadn’t she? “But Sans… I had thought I would watch my companions fall in love, and that I could enjoy it from afar! It is so much easier to watch others fall in love, and I have already put in my time!”

“what can i say? love isn’t fair.”

Toriel squirmed in her chair and buried her face in her hands. “Why me?”

“cause i’m the lazy one,” Sans replied. “and you’re the one who does the right thing.”

It was infuriating, sometimes, how right he had a habit of being.

[++++++++++++++++++++++++++]

Chapter Text

[+]

Scene 27: Flowers in the Sun

or

“Garden Mystery”

Toriel made eggs for breakfast, sunny side up. They were a success—the good doctor was coaxed out of bed early by the smell of eggs, parsley and coriander and the gentle sound of sizzling in the skillet. She had on her lab coat, rather than trying to scavenge a suitable outfit from the leftover children’s clothes Toriel had offered her. While Biff had been large enough that Alphys could probably wear his clothes, they were very old and ragged by now, apart from being too masculine for the good doctor, so Toriel understood why she preferred to stick with her coat. Still, Toriel would have to sew her a new wardrobe soon. She would have begun already, but crafting the costumes for the day of penance had put that project on hold.

Alphys arrived in the kitchen full of vim, as Toriel imagined a scientist should be when on a promising road to discovery. “Good morning, Toriel!”

“Good morning, Alphys!”

“Would you like any help with breakfast?”

“No, thank you. I am nearly finished, and the kitchen is small. You may set out our dishes if you wish, however!”

Alphys gathered plates and flatware and bustled out to do just that. Toriel took a moment to breathe in the beauty of her life. She was not alone anymore, but unlike the last seven times that had been the case, she had adult company rather than juvenile. It was refreshingly different. She relished the company of children dearly, but as child after child had left her nest, only to meet the same terrible end, she had to admit a fatalistic air had come to tarnish the experience. Even in her happiest moments with her later children, there had been a profound sadness in the background. Toriel had grown used to that sadness, but now that circumstances were different? It was gone. True, there was the sadness of having lost Asgore for good in its place, but Toriel knew that would fade. What was happening now was new, and she was glad for it… and besides, it was nice having someone willing to offer help with breakfast, rather than having to be coaxed into it.

There was a beauty to adulthood, Toriel reflected, just as there was beauty in childhood. But she was not accustomed to living with other adults. She had tried doing so for a week in the castle, and that had gone tragically poorly. Surely, though, she would get used to it again in time.

She had therefore warned Sans that she might inadvertently treat him like a child at first, and that he would have to forgive her. He had been unconcerned. “suits me fine,” he had said. “children get good treatment around here.” She had not yet broached the subject with Alphys, however, and now that Sans had raised a certain… intriguing possibility, she was not sure doing so would be a good idea.

Then again, Alphys was not a permanent resident: she would have her own home soon. Indeed, once breakfast was underway, Alphys suggested that today might be a good day for her to go and tour Home in search of a suitable dwelling.

“Would you like me to accompany you, Alphys? I can guide you through the city and do my best to answer any questions you may have.”

“Oh, s-sure, that’d be great! Sans, um, do you want to come along too?”

“nah, i should probably carry another three boxes or so back from my place in snowdin. maybe i’ll shoot the breeze a little in town, see how folks liked your funeral. that should tie up most of my day.”

Toriel hid a snicker. She knew well that Sans could transport more than three boxes a day, but if he chose to move in at his own pace, she would not pressure him. There was no need for haste in the Ruins. Indeed, finding ways to occupy themselves might well be their greatest challenge! “Very well, Sans. In that case, we will trust you to handle your own lunch, and see you later for dinner.”

“sounds good. hope you find some neat digs, al.”

She chuckled. “Thanks! I’ll—I’ll try. Hopefully I won’t live too far away.”

“Indeed not! We shall expect you to visit frequently!”

“…Right! Will you, um… will you want me to send word somehow, or will it be all right if I just… just drop in?”

Toriel looked to Sans. “Oh, I think it will be all right if you simply drop in. What do you think, Sans?”

She thought she detected a tiny sigh. “sure. our casa is your casa.”

“Thanks!” said Alphys. “M… maybe I’ll try to come by every evening for dinner! At least for a while. It would… help me feel connected.”

“I should like that very much,” Toriel agreed. “I will be sure to make enough food each night for the three of us. And after dinner, we can sit in the living room and talk about our days.”

Alphys grinned and went back to eating. Toriel saw her tail swaying high behind her—an unmistakable sign of joy. She resisted the urge to hug herself with pride.

“My top priority,” Alphys explained, “is energy.” They were having a spirited conversation as they walked through the loam-rich outskirts of Home. A few sheds and dwellings here had been completely reclaimed by the earth, while other structures had been reduced to crumbled wall fragments or chunks of foundation.

“Energy?” asked Toriel curiously.

“Yes! Energy is what makes everything else happen!”

What an utterly charming idea! “In that case, I suppose I should ask: what exactly is energy, in the scientific sense?”

In a single step, Alphys let her tail swing quite a bit further than one might expect; Toriel had noticed this to be a habit of hers when she was happy. “Energy is potential for change! Anytime something moves—and that includes tiny little movements too small to see—it takes energy to do it! So if I want to make anything big happen here, I’ve got to find a source of energy!”

Toriel struggled to understand. “But if everything that moves does so because of energy… then are not all things energy sources?” she reasoned.

Alphys actually laughed at this, to her surprise. Happily, though, it appeared the scientist was laughing with her, so to speak, not at her. “I—I guess in a way, they are! But! If something moves, and… and stops moving, then that means it’s already transferred its energy to something else! So I’m looking for things that keep moving, or that have lots of inherent potential for making things move! When Gaster built the Core, he used geothermal energy. That’s the heat of the planet itself! You know, Toriel, our planet is very active, especially deeper down than we are. It… it can’t be stilled! It keeps churning and mixing and spurting its molten rocks and metals… and if you have that kind of power, you might as well… you might as well use it!”

As she spoke, Alphys gestured to the earth around them, with its furrows and rocks, and to the roof, its crags and stalactites visible high above. But the more she spoke, the more her eyes fastened on Toriel herself. Did the doctor view her as a source of power—churning, liquid, unquellable?

“I suppose you might as well!” she agreed. “But how does one utilize the energy of the earth?”

“W-well, you have to get to where the heat is, and then you can use it to do various things—heat water until it steams away and turns a turbine, for example—but here, there isn’t any obvious source of geothermal heat! Do you know of any geysers or deep crevices around here?”

They began walking again. “No, I am afraid I do not. Home is a peaceful place. I believe the magma you possess in Hotland flows here only deep beneath our feet. Do you have another potential source of energy?”

“That’s what I’m looking for. There’s no water here, so hydroelectric and tidal are out. Is there a lot of wind anywhere in the Ruins?”

“There is the mistral! It is a high wind that traces the roof of the cavern, and occasionally ventures low enough to blow the leaves off the trees.”

This news delighted Alphys. “That sounds perfect! W-well, almost perfect. I might have some trouble building high enough to capture it, and if it’s irregular like that… well, I wouldn’t want to damage the local ecology.”

Toriel put one hand on her hip. “You are not planning to steal the mistral from us, are you?”

“N-no! I mean, I couldn’t! I don’t think I could. I just want to draw off a little energy from it to run a generator. Then we could have electricity!”

Excitement lit up in Toriel’s heart. “Home has never had electricity. We have always lived simply here. Do you really think it would be a good idea, doctor?”

“Of course! What’s not to like? Video games… television… a refrigerator you don’t need to load with ice… motorized machines…” She pointed to a half-tumbled tower. “We could start to clear out some of the fallen buildings! And m-m-maybe we could rebuild them? Over time? And if we had help?”

The thought of rebuilding Home… it had been a constant in the back of Toriel’s mind, an old friend whose strength had long since failed, for almost as long as Toriel had dwelt there. Now Alphys was lending this beloved notion new strength. Was it really possible?

“Um… Tor.. Toriel? You’re just staring… are you all right?”

Hope. Toriel was staring in hope. This little creature before her had brought back a flavor of hope she had long been without. “Alphys… you seem to act as if anything is possible!”

Alphys swung the tip of her tail around until she was clutching it. “W-w-well, technically, it is! You can never prove something is impossible… just that it’s v-v-very unlikely!”

Such an uplifting attitude! “But… may I ask you something delicate, my friend?”

Instantly the scientist tensed up, all nerves. “Y… yes?”

“If your belief is that anything is possible,” Toriel asked softly, “then why did you come so close to… ending your life? Could you not sense hope in the darkness?”

The tension became a head-to-toe blush. “Well, I… I don’t think my hope ever completely left me. I think I just… sh-shifted my priorities around? The worse things got, the less, um, value I placed on… the life I knew, and the more I placed on…” She spread her hands wantonly. “What might come!”

What might come. The mystery at the bottom of a black abyss, or the mystery that was Toriel’s Ruins. They were in the midst of Alphys’s unknown even now—everything they did was something the lizard had plunged into, as blindly as if she had jumped off a cliff. The sentiment stirred Toriel’s heart; she lowered herself to one knee. “This is somewhat awkward! I feel that I ought to hug you, but I do not want to simply pick you up, because then we would not feel like equals.”

“Oh! Th-that’s okay. I’ll… come and hug you, then?”

Toriel opened her arms wide. “If you would!”

So they embraced. They held each other a bit longer than Toriel thought was proper. The purpose of this hug, she reminded herself, was to comfort Alphys against the specter of the shadow that had nearly claimed her life, and to affirm that what she had gotten instead, her ‘what-might-come’, was a good life indeed. Yet Alphys held on tightly, nuzzling her cheek into Toriel’s chest, as if there was even more to be expressed. Toriel patted her companion’s back, wondering whether what Sans had suggested last night might really be true.

Finally Alphys drew back. “You know, Tori… you really know h… you really are good at making people feel better.”

Toriel grinned with pride, struggling to keep her lips closed. Was this the proper time to ask? Or should she simply continue in the course of things and let Alphys bring it up in her own time? In case Sans was wrong, a measure of caution would spare them both embarrassment.

“If I have helped lead you out of despair, I am glad,” she declared. “I am very glad. I had no idea that either you or Sans carried such heavy burdens.”

Alphys clutched her hands tightly together. “I still can’t believe I’m leaving it all behind. It f-feels t-too good to be true!”

“My ch—my dear one, there are times in our lives when we must struggle simply to accept what we have. Just because a turn of fortune may be… fortunate… does not mean that it is easy to adjust to.”

“N-n-no. It isn’t. But… it’s wonderful. I miss Undyne, and… and Mettaton, and the amalgamates, but…” She looked around, eying a line of Froggits hopping over each other in the distance. “But I can do science here, and it’s pristine, and no one hates me…” Her face was a perfect picture of hope, until it faded back into anxiety. “Well, it would be nice if Sans could forgive me. But I… I understand there are some things you just can’t take back… and no break can ever be a p-perfectly c… clean one.”

“He will forgive you in time, I am confident of it,” Toriel assured her. Her nose twitched—it now seemed opportune to approach the question from another angle. “Alphys? Will you satisfy my curiosity on something?”

Mixed sentiments spilled over the scientist’s face. “Um… s-sure?”

“Do you remember asking me, a few days ago, whether Sans and I were a couple?”

Fear and excitement, commingled. “Um… yes?”

Toriel held her companion’s eyes, still kneeling. “It may have been presumptive of me, but at the time, I suspected it was not mere curiosity that led you to ask that.”

Now Alphys clutched her own hands even more tightly. “You… you did?” she asked nervously.

Toriel smiled, allowing a hint of coyness to slip in. “I suspected that you were interested in Sans, and that you were checking to see whether he was unattached.”

A flash of surprise, a loosening of muscles, a release of breath. There was unmistakable relief in Alphys’s bearing for a split second. Not guilt—relief! That could only mean one thing: Sans was right.

“Oh! Aheh… um… well, if… if that were true… would you…” Her voice became a squeak. “How would you feel about it?”

Toriel favored Alphys with her most innocent look. “Why, I would be utterly delighted! Is it not always a beautiful thing for love to bloom?”

The yellow tail rose and hugged the ground in awkward alternation. “Er, yes! Yes, yes, it is. Um… so… maybe I… am fond of him?”

Oh, really? “In that case, may I be so childish as to ask what you think his most desirable quality is?”

This flustered Alphys. “Um… his, um… his figure? He’s, um…”

Toriel smiled and waited patiently.

“He’s very… fat? For a skeleton? And I think that’s… an interesting, um…”

“Our Sans is a creature of paradoxes,” contributed Toriel.

“Yes! Yes, exactly! That’s what makes him… um, amazing.”

Honesty was important. That was undeniable. But some things were more important than honesty. Alphys was clearly fibbing to her about Sans, most likely to make Toriel feel better—which was heartwarming. It would be unkind to continue pressing this charade. But at the same time, if she were to confront the lizard about her true feelings, it would place her on the spot, so to speak. And since Toriel did not reciprocate those apparent feelings, it would be unfair to do so.

So instead, she flashed a conspiratorial grin and said nothing more. Let Alphys think that she considered her crush on Sans to be a little secret between them. In the meantime, Toriel would contemplate the reality of things.

She stood up and straightened her robe. “You did not mention sunlight as an energy source,” she pointed out. “But the sun provides energy, does it not?”

Alphys cleared her throat in apparent relief. “Um, yes! But. We don’t have any sunlight down here. Only Asgore had that, in his throne room…”

“My friend, would you like to see a place that is very special to me?”

Alphys gulped and swallowed, unable to say no to that. So Toriel led the way.

“Oh! Are we going to the place where the children come from? The b-back entrance to the Underground?”

“You have guessed it! But I think of it as the main entrance, and the barrier as if it were at the back.” Toriel smiled. “That is my little indulgence, I suppose.”

Alphys was trotting along now. “Is there actually sunlight there?”

“Yes, there is a small patch of sunlight. Come and see!”

Toriel took pride in not letting her schedule of hours slip away, despite living far from civilization. She got up in the early morning and she went to bed shortly after night began. Most monsters, after all, did not have the luxury of a patch of sunlight to ground their schedules. Before all of this tumult, Toriel had visited hers daily. The fact that it was always sunny when she came proved that she had not let her clock run down nor her habits drift. Sometimes clouds dulled the light from far above, but there was always light.

Now she got to share her special place with someone very special. Suddenly, Toriel was afraid that Alphys would not find it impressive. After all, it was just a little place. “I hope you are not disappointed when we arrive,” she said as they walked across the spike bridge. “It is not very large.”

“It d-doesn’t have to be large,” Alphys said. “I loved spending time in Asgore’s garden… I’m thrilled that you have a patch of sunlight too!”

At the end of a good half hour of travel, they arrived. It was quiet here, as always. Well, as almost always. Toriel was still concerned about the sentient flower she had encountered last time. Had she killed it? Would it return? She did not know, but she chose not to burden her companion with that worry just now.

“Welcome to my little garden!” Toriel announced, spreading her hands forward.

Alphys laughed and ran toward the flowerpatch almost like a dancer might. “It’s covered in flowers! You have golden flowers here!”

“Yes! I wanted that to be a surprise. I have been tending them ever since I returned to this place.”

“Wow! They look beautiful!”

“Please do not trample my flowers, doctor!”

The lizard had showed no sign of slowing down, but plopped to a halt just at the edge of the patch, dropping to belly and elbows to examine the flowers. Toriel walked up to join her.

“Nine hundred years,” murmured Alphys,” staring at the flowers from the ground. “That’s how long it was, right?”

Toriel felt her eyes water. “Yes. That is how long I have been here.”

“And you kept this patch of flowers growing for… a-all that time?”

“It went through the occasional rough patch,” Toriel admitted. “There were times when I did not want to garden every day. Times when I was tired of the life I had given myself.” She thought then of Emma and her night terrors. Of Mickey hiding from her with his toy gun, waiting in ambush. “And there were times when my children demanded my attention, and I was not able to visit this flowerbed. But I always saved some seeds, and I was always able to restore it.” She lowered her voice. “The flowers grow thin when it is winter on the surface. There is not as much sunlight then. But it is warmer down here than it is up there, and they never completely die, so long as I water them and keep their soil free from weeds and stones.”

Alphys reached out toward one of the flowers. “May I… may I touch one?”

Toriel smiled and sat down, her knees held in her arms. “Yes, you may.”

Four chubby yellow fingers ran up the green stem as if it were the most sacred thing in the world. They stopped at the sepals, slowly rubbing against the flower’s surface. “You’re so amazing, Tori.” These words were whispered so quietly that Toriel believed she had not been meant to hear them, and therefore, she pretended not to.

“You seem to be quite taken with my little garden!” Toriel exclaimed.

Alphys let go of the flower. “It’s just like Asgore’s, but smaller. Well, and he has other flowers around the edge, and you only grow this one species. But the soil feels just like being in the throne room, and the flowers are just as beautiful, and the sounds…” She rose to her knees and cupped her hand to her earhole. “I can hear something from far away, maybe above! Just like in the throne room. Oh, god, I love sunlight. It’s so… nourishing.”

Toriel nodded. “How true, doctor! It is.”

“A-and most monsters have never even had the chance to feel it!”

That was also true. Toriel sat in solemn silence, remembering when sunlight was everywhere, every day. Even having forgotten all her acquaintances and dramas from the surface, that was something she could still remember.

Alphys spoke after a while. “I could p-possibly set up a solar power cell to capture some of the sunlight, and use that for… electricity. But…” She swallowed. “But I don’t want to! This light is too… special. I wouldn’t want to block any of it! The flowers need it… and s-s-so do we.”

“There have, indeed, been times when I have felt that way, doctor. I have found this place invaluable. It is where Ziggy is buried.”

Alphys gasped and fell back. She sat with legs folded, regarding the flowerbed she now knew was a grave. “B-but I thought Asgore put all the dead children in those coffins in the castle!”

“He did. But I took the body of our first human child with me when I left. I was not willing to leave them behind. The seeds from the flowers clung to their body, and that is why they grow here.”

Alphys absorbed this sacred truth of Toriel’s existence in silence. Toriel was glad. It was good to be able to tell these weighty, important things to someone, after all this time. And it was good for that person to accept the sadness associated with this garden for what it was. There would always be sadness here, just as there would always be hope. It was, and would always be, the most bittersweet of places.

But then Dr. Alphys turned to Toriel, concerned. “Toriel? Why were there seeds clinging to Ziggy’s body? Did they… did they die in the flowers?”

She smiled sadly. “They died in bed. It was only after Asriel returned from the world above, wounded and still carrying his sibling’s body, that he dropped Ziggy into the garden.” It amazed her how easy these terrible words were to say, so far had she come these last few days.

“S-so… Asriel died in Asgore’s flowerbed?”

Toriel closed her eyes, remembering. “Yes. It was a terrible sight. His dust spread over the flowers, and he was gone. Forever gone from us. Our son.”

But Alphys did not allow Toriel a moment’s peace. “Was it right in the middle of the flowers? Where exactly did his dust land?!”

Why would Alphys care so much about such a detail? “Yes, it was squarely in the middle! That is where the golden flowers started to grow. One grew larger than the others, and I came to think of it as ‘his’ flower. In the weeks before I left the castle, I tended to it almost as if it was my son. But why do you ask?”

The lizard was trembling now. “To—Toriel. Did… was the…” She staggered to her feet. “How big was that flower?” She held her hand some twenty inches over the flowerbed. “Was it… was it about up to here?”

“It was. Alphys, how did you know?” She drew a sharp breath. “Could it be that the flower is still growing?”

Alphys bit her lip. “Promise not to get mad, okay?”

Toriel always hated being asked for that particular promise, because she could not make it. “I cannot control whether I grow mad or not. Alphys, will you please tell me what this is about?!”

Her companion visibly steeled herself and nodded. “That flower… it was still there when I was Royal Scientist. I was doing, um… experiments on how to possibly b-break the barrier… and, um… I needed a vessel—some living thing that wasn’t a monster—to see if I could… well, the eventual goal was to, um… store souls in it? H-human souls or… or monster souls. So I—”

She cut herself off, seeing how harsh Toriel’s look had grown. Toriel made an effort to soften her countenance. “Go on, doctor. You used my son’s flower as a vessel for your dark experiments, I take it?”

Alphys hid her face in her hands. “I didn’t—I didn’t know it was your son’s flower! Asgore never said! I asked him if I could use that flower, and he was reluctant but he said yes! I just thought it was his favorite—you know, his pride as a gardener or something. And yes… I injected DT into it. A lot of it. R-relatively speaking, I mean. Much more than the determinometer uses.”

Toriel had trouble containing herself. “And what became of this flower after you had so utilized it?”

“Well, I… I sent it back to Asgore, and he planted it back again where it had been…”

“Well, that is a relief. I had thought you were going to relate how it had died in some horrible fashion.”

“And… and then it disappeared.”

Toriel blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“Asgore called me up one day to tell me it was… gone. I rushed over to see… I checked the soil… the flower was gone, roots and all!”

“It… disappeared? So somebody stole it?”

Alphys shrugged helplessly. “He had guards at the door… I don’t know how anyone could have taken it.”

“But… a flower could not simply get up and walk away!”

Alphys bit her nails as if to say, Maybe this one could?

“Oh come, doctor. A flower cannot—”

Then she remembered. A flower with a face.

“Alphys,” she said, only to find her throat suddenly constricted. “When I f…” She paused to swallow. “When I first found the narrow-eyed child, I was only a little distance from here.” She pointed into the darkness. “The child… was being tormented by a… by a golden flower. A talking golden flower. With a face. And a cruel laugh, and bullets shaped like seeds.”

What? No!” exclaimed Alphys.

“Yes,” said Toriel direly. “The flower was about to kill the child. I acted swiftly.” She had to work to expel the next set of words. “I cast a fireball. I blew it away.”

Alphys knelt with her hands over her mouth, eyes white and wide.

“I am not sure whether I killed it,” she continued. “I… I do not believe so. But it may have perished in the shadows.” Suddenly, the tragedy of the situation struck her. “Oh! Oh, my Asriel!”

Alphys, too, sobbed with horror, and perhaps shame. She hugged Toriel; Toriel knelt to welcome her embrace. “Oh, your p-poor son! It must have been him. I mean… we sprinkle the dust of the departed on their favorite objects because it i-imbues them with their essence, right? So that isn’t j-just what we tell ourselves? It… it really works?”

Toriel thought back to all the funerals she had known. “I have never actually considered in much detail about what it means for an object to be imbued with a monster’s essence. I suppose it did not matter until now whether it was true or not—it was as true for us as we imagined it to be.”

“But then… if it is him, in this flower… what exactly is he?”

“It must be him,” Toriel whispered, feeling chilled. “But then… what has become of him? Why would my Asriel, my kind, sweet Asriel, attack and torment a poor child?”

“W-w-well, the child wasn’t exactly innocent, right? I mean… they did turn out to be a killer.”

That did not explain it. Toriel had seen the malice in the flower’s face and heard its terrible, mocking voice. “No,” she said. “The flower was not simply detaining the child, or fighting to defend itself. It was choosing to hurt. To frighten. To destroy.” She squinched shut her eyes. “There was nothing good about it.”

“Then I don’t know.” Alphys sounded as helpless as Toriel felt. “I wish I had an answer for you.”

Toriel stood, pulling free from her companion’s arms. She walked back along the path. “What if it is—if he is still here? What can we do?”

Alphys hurried along. “I don’t know! M-maybe we can try talking? B—but we should be ready to fight… just in case.”

To fight against her own son. She remembered Mickey—it would not be the first time, but it would feel just as perverse. She had felt like her soul was dying as she stood before the purple doors and did battle with the narrow-eyed child. This is not right , she had told herself, but she had seen no other choice. Well, perhaps if Asriel, warped and twisted by time, chose to attack her, she would not resist. Perhaps she would simply flee, or stand her ground and let him choose how much damage he wished to wreak upon his mother.

No, that kind of thinking would no longer do, she told herself as they passed into the dark chamber. She had been able to abandon thoughts of safety once. But now she was no longer alone. Now, there were others who depended upon her.

The darkness was familiar. “This is where he fought the child,” she declared. “He sprouted from the dirt, here.” She rubbed it with her foot; there was no trace.

Alphys went to her knees and investigated. “It doesn’t look any different from the other dirt, but I guess we could collect some for testing. That is, um, if I ever manage to get any more testing equipment. I don’t even have anything suitable for carrying it. Do you have any, um, tupperware, Toriel?”

“I am not aware of what ‘tupperware’ is, but perhaps a cookie jar would do?”

“Oh, yeah… good thinking.” She dropped the dirt from her hand and looked into the darkness. “Hello? Is… is anyone out there?”

The walls were distant and indistinct in this place. The only light came from the shaft of sunlight in the next room; nothing was visible to either side. Toriel raised her own voice. “My son? Are you… listening to us, somewhere?”

There was nothing but the weight of silence.

“Asriel?” called Alphys.

Silence.

“Let’s go home,” Alphys suggested. “I can find a place to live later. This is more important.”

Toriel nodded. They re-entered the old catacombs and began the walk back.

To be trapped within a plant. She could not fathom what that would feel like. Before Alphys had chosen his flower, of all the possible vessels in the Underground, to be injected with determination, he had presumably been unable to move, unable to speak. Had he been aware? Had he beaten at the inside of his cage, screaming for his mother and father, for help, for solace? Had he been able to sense the world outside, or had he been cut entirely adrift? Perhaps he had possessed only such senses as flowers have—those of sunlight and water, cold and heat. Had there been anything more to the world than that for him?

The truth was, she could imagine how her darling son might have changed from what he was into a raving monster, over the course of nine centuries of confusion and solitude. But she did not wish to imagine it. Living in near solitude for all that time had been hard even for Toriel, and she had been a hermit by choice, knowing full well her place in things. Asriel must have suffered so. He must have suffered so deeply, so profoundly, so unthinkably much.

Her poor child. Was it even all of him that occupied the golden flower with a face? Or had only a portion of his essence seeped into that flower, all those years ago? Had he not even had his full self to comfort him in his imprisonment? Had he been torn asunder, left to struggle in pieces, with only splintered memories of the life that had once been his?

It was simply too much. Toriel chose to cut off her contemplation and empty her mind. Yet no mind is ever truly empty, and as they passed by puzzle after puzzle, purple hall after purple hall, her mental theater entertained a melange of scenes that once were. Her son, kneeling on a chair, making a sandwich for himself for the first time so that he could take it with him on a picnic. Wearing his shirt with his arms inside his sleeves, pretending he had none. Sledding with his father, trudging gamely up the hill for ten minutes in exchange for one minute of exuberance. Learning a board game from his sibling, his delight turning to consternation as they continually changed the rules. Climbing on top of Toriel’s easy chair to hug her from behind. Insisting affectionately that she tuck him in, night after night after night.

These thoughts calmed the surface of Toriel’s roiling ocean as she passed the ancient tree. And as she entered her home, she re-experienced the perennial joy of kissing her son on the cheek.

Was it conceivable that such a kiss could someday happen again?

[+++++++++++++++++++++++++++]

Chapter Text

 [+]

Scene 28: The Air Is Cleared

or

“Small Shocks”

When Sans got home, he wasn’t even able to set down his box of badly packed junk before both ladies descended on him, talking about some weird thing from the past they’d unearthed. So he left his stuff by the door and they all went to the living room to talk about it. It was going to be one of those days.

“you guys seem pretty worked up. everything ok?”

“We are not in danger, if that is what you are wondering. But I am quite affected by what Alphys has told me!”

“It… it could be good news, right? In a way, w-we can see it as good news!”

Too much. Sans held up a finger. “ut! one at a time, ok? what’s going on?”

Maybe they were talking one at a time now, but they were still both chattering like it’d just been invented. Okay, so no one had been attacked—all that had happened was a conversation. Still, conversations could be dangerous. They could make or break lives, and Sans knew that. So he gave this his full attention, and what he heard chilled him.

“a talking flower, huh? ‘bout yea high?”

“Yes,” said Toriel. “Somehow, I had not realized how much it looked like the flower that grew from my son’s dust. But with one thing and another, I did not have a proper chance to reflect.”

“well, i’ve got good news for ya. if that thing is your son, and assuming you didn’t kill him… turns out he’s capable of making friends.”

Toriel’s eyebrows got tight. “Friends?”

“yeah, a few days before the human came through, papyrus started talking about a new best friend of his. said he was a talking flower.”

Now her nostrils flared. “Your brother made friends with my reincarnated son?!”

“besties, apparently. i just figured the flower was imaginary. until pap started telling me about the things it made him do. things he wouldn’t have thought of on his own.”

“Wh-what kind of things?” asked Alphys.

Sans shrugged. “writing notes and leaving them for people. stealing books and putting them back later. slipping tabasco sauce into people’s food. honestly, i’m worried it might have been something worse than tabasco sauce.”

They gaped silently. “Can we be certain it was the same flower?” Toriel asked.

Of course it was the same flower. But sure, he’d play along. “well, he called his friend ‘he’ and said he was a golden flower. said sometimes the flower used to tap him with something called ‘friendliness pellets’ that, wouldn’t you know it, look and feel exactly like bullets. he said they even did damage, but that it was ‘affectionate damage’. i told he should stop seeing this flower if it hurts him, but he was loyal to a fault. wouldn’t turn his back on a friend, even one i thought was imaginary.”

Toriel froze. “What shape of bullet?”

“i think he said they were like seeds.”

She exhaled. “We are speaking of the same flower, then. It is so strange to think of my Asriel doing these things! But then, he was confined within the flower for hundreds and hundreds of years. I cannot fathom how that kind of experience could change a person.”

No kidding. “yeah. probably one of those things you can’t understand without going through it.”

She clenched her hand on the arm of her chair. “I am not certain I would want to understand it.”

Sans knew the feeling. But he was past that point. If this freak creature was really out there, talking to—oh shit. Alphys had said she’d used DT to make it happen, hadn’t she? Oh shit.

Doing his best to stay cool, he leaned over toward Alphys. “out of curiosity, alph, how much determination did you give him? was it more than any one of the human souls had to begin with?”

“N-no. It was about thirty percent of that. Um… 0.3 HDUs, I called it. Human Determination Units.”

So the kid had been stronger. Still, the kid was gone, and that sounded like a lot. “is there any other creature in the underground with that kind of determination?”

The lizard swallowed, looking away for a moment. “I th-think Undyne has a lot of DT,” she confessed. “B-but not that much.”

“you know that for a fact?”

“Um… no… I never got the chance to test her…”

“Why do you ask?” inquired Toriel.

Oops. Wasn’t being exactly subtle, was he? “no reason. just curious.”

“S-so… what do we do now?” asked Alphys.

That was a good question. Sans couldn’t think what else to ask. Seemed like neither of the others was having any better luck, since they sat in silence for a while.

At last, Toriel rose brusquely from her chair. “Perhaps I should have started by making tea. It is what Asgore would have done.”

“I could go for some tea,” Alphys put in.

So she set the kettle warming and came back. “It seems likely to me,” Toriel resumed, “that this flower, whatever he may be, is aware that we are here. If I did not… inadvertently kill him, that is. And as such, if he is not introducing himself to us, it must mean he does not wish to reunite.”

“Unless… unless he’s lost his mind,” Alphys pointed out. “Could it be he doesn’t even remember you?”

Toriel only sagged in her chair at this thought, saying nothing.

This was no good. Time to break the ice. Maybe he’d even get some kind of insight. “so i’ve got a question for you,” said Sans.

Both women turned their attention toward him. “Yes, Sans?”

“it’s kind of a weird question, so let me think how to put it.” He leaned back to consider. “ok. so, you know how sometimes you do something, and you wish you could take it back? it didn’t go like you planned, and now you’d give anything if you could undo it?”

Toriel’s look saddened further. “I know very well how that feels.”

Alphys put her elbows on the table. “Sometimes I feel like my whole life is like that.”

“alright. sure. now in the real world, if we do something we don’t like, we can’t take it back. if it’s done, it’s done. but let’s say you could. let’s say you’ve got the power to just… will yourself back to when you were about to do the dumb thing, and do something else instead.”

“I am with you,” said Toriel, clearly concerned.

“That would be great,” opined Alphys. “But what’s your question?”

Sans sat forward and thought about how to phrase it. “the question is… what happens to the people you leave behind? when you go back to do things over… what happens to the people who just lived through the dumb thing you did? do they just…” He snapped his fingers ripely. “…go back to the way they were? is everything they did since then just… lost? or do they keep on going, but without you? or…” His eye gleamed for a moment. “…do they keep on going with you… only it’s a different you? when you go back to do things over, do you leave one of yourself behind? so now there’s a you who did the dumb thing, who’s got to live with it, and another you, who’s got the chance to make things right?”

“I… am not sure I entirely understand the question!” said Toriel.

Alphys thrummed her fingers nervously on the table. “I think I understand. This is… this is an awfully weird hypothetical question. But what does it have to do with Asriel?”

Well, he couldn’t exactly answer that, could he? So Sans just sat there, staring into the distance.

The tea kettle began to whistle.

Toriel shoved her chair back with a start. “I will get that. One moment.” She hurried into the kitchen and bustled about. Sans felt Alphys watching him and leaned crosswise over the table to meet her eyes.

“Is this about that old story about King Donegan?” she murmured.

She was sharp, this one. Sans made his grin into a mask. “he wasn’t the only king who got do-overs.”

Her claws dug into the tabletop. “You’re saying that old human story is true? About their king who was so determined he could turn back time?!”

Sans nodded. “dunno about king donegan. but i know king asgore used to have the power. i know because he told me.”

Alphys stared. “He could turn back time? R-really?”

Since he’d come this far, he might as well keep going. Just so long as Toriel didn’t hear. “yup. he didn’t like doing it, though. i wouldn’t either, if it were me. he said it made him feel like he was killing everyone in the underground, if only a little bit. for all i know, he might be right.”

“I… I don’t understand. That just raises so many questions!”

No kidding, right? “the first time he used it was to save us all,” Sans went on. “when we first fled underground, we left a path open and the humans came down after us. we didn’t get out of home fast enough. so he went back and made sure there was no path back. after that, he only ever went back a little bit, just to see how it worked. a few minutes here, a second or two there.”

“And he never told anyone?”

“he told a few people. mostly only after they were about to figure it on their own, like me. he might’ve told toriel. but if she doesn’t know, i think she’d be happier not knowing.”

“But… but he’s gone! Why are you bringing it up now?”

“because he’s gone,” Sans answered. “and undyne’s still around.”

That only made her more tense. “What does this have to do with Undyne?!”

“not sure if i should say. not my secret to tell.” Still, if you’re as smart as you look, you should be able to put the pieces together.

Alphys glared. “Come on, Sans! Y-you can’t just drop a… an intellectual bomb like that and not explain why it matters!”

Fair point. “well, lemme just say this. one day, asgore lost his power. a few hundred years ago, he told me, he tried going back a few seconds, just to see if he could still do it… and he couldn’t.”

“What? Why? Wh-what happened?”

Sans shrugged. “they say when you get older, you can’t do everything you used to. here today, gone tomorrow.”

“But Asgore wasn’t getting older!”

He widened his grin. “i know. funny how that works, isn’t it?”

And there was Tori, coming back. Padded footsteps and the clinking of cups and saucers. Looked like the service wasn’t arranged perfectly, but a frazzled state of mind’d do that to you.

She set it down on the table. “Here is the tea. Shall we drink?”

Alphys looked uneasy, but she poured herself a cup and drank. They all did, even though it trickled down Sans’ ribs and along his spine.

“Ow,” murmured Alphys. “Too hot.”

“That is what occurs when you expose water to flame,” said Toriel acerbically. “It is customary to sip until the liquid is comfortably cool.”

Ouch, Tori. Coming from her, that was a cold burn.

Alphys blew on her tea, spilling a little. None of them spoke.

Then Toriel closed her eyes. “I am sorry. I am just… upset about what I have learned.” She took a breath to calm her temper, then looked at Sans. “Was Alphys able to answer your rather strange question, Sans?”

“nah. but i didn’t really think she would. i’ve been mulling it around for a while now.”

“And what is its importance?”

Let it go, Tori. “didn’t say it was important, did i?” Sans replied, sipping calmly from his cup. “just something that’s been on my mind. what happens to the folks who get left behind?”

Toriel huffed. “Are you speaking of Undyne and Mettaton?”

Totally wrong track, Tori. He leaned forward quizzically. “did those two get left behind? they’re in charge of the kingdom.”

“I don’t think he’s talking about anyone in particular,” said Alphys.

“Then what do you mean, Sans?”

Damn—should have just made a joke and changed the subject. Too late now. “i guess i’m just worried all of us might get left behind. at any moment. and i’m wondering, what happens then?”

“Left behind by what, Sans?” demanded the former queen.

“tori, i’ll be honest. i don’t think you really want to know.”

She sat up a little higher, and the light gleamed off her horns. “Do you think I wanted to know that my son had returned from the dead, only for me to strike him down unawares? That I may have killed my own son, thus ending his rarest of second chances?!”

“nope. you probably didn’t want to know that either. i’m trying to protect you, tori.”

She set down her teacup with a loud clink. “I am tired of not knowing the truth! I was glad to learn of this, Sans! Even if I am disturbed, it is good to know.” She looked at Alphys. “And I was glad to learn about the sacrifice my children made ages ago, trying to save our people. Did you think my heart could not take the knowledge on that fourth videotape? My heart is stronger than either of you think.”

“I—I didn’t think you couldn’t take it, Tori, I just… thought maybe it wasn’t the best time, since you were about to make your speech…”

Toriel paused a moment. “Yes, that is true. I appreciate that. But I am tired of you speaking in riddles!” she said to Sans. “You are supposed to be in my employ! Are you my judge, or are you working only for yourself?”

Flip. He’d expected her to be piqued, but this was a level of anger he hadn’t bargained for. “i work for you, tori. but i really don’t think you want to know what i’m thinking.”

“Then why are you hinting at it? You are always hinting at things that you wish to keep secret, as if you wish to appear mysterious.”

“that’s just my style, tori. i like to take the long way round sometimes. come at things from another angle.”

“Are you coming at this from another angle, or are you trying to prevent me from coming upon it at all?”

Alphys stood up. “I… I think maybe I understand what he was trying to say, Tori, and, well… he might be right. You might be better off not knowing.” Thanks, kid.

“Is that how weak you think I am, Alphys? That in my tenderness I cannot handle knowledge?”

“I—I don’t think you’re weak, Toriel!”

“Then why will you not tell me what Sans is driving at?”

“because you’re already upset,” Sans interjected. “you’re not acting like yourself. you even spilled your tea.”

Toriel looked down at the drops on her saucer. “And can you blame me? I have been exiled from my rightful throne, and now here in my own home, I am beset by people intent on teasing me with hints of the truth, only to treat me like a child and keep me from it!”

“I would never treat you that way, Toriel!” blurted Alphys.

Her brows narrowed. “No? Then why did you claim to me that you fancy Sans, when it is clear you do not?”

Alphys squeaked and blushed, her hands flying to her muzzle.

Wait. Alphys was saying she liked him? “what’s this about?” Sans demanded.

But the lizard didn’t say anything—her blush just got redder.

“She is maintaining the fiction that she is fond of you,” said Toriel sardonically. “She told me today that she finds your figure alluring.”

…Now that was a new one. “my… my figure? do i have a figure?”

“You are very fat for a skeleton, according to Alphys. That is apparently what she is drawn to.”

He stood up, clutching the edge of the table. “it’s not nice to mess with a guy, alph.”

“I wasn’t messing with you!” she burst out. “It’s just… Toriel was pressing me, and—I didn’t want to say—”

“No, you did not, did you? That is becoming a rather common theme with me, is it not? No one wants to tell me how they truly feel!”

She wasn’t the only one irritated with Alphys and her dumb cover story. “would you rather i’d told you i couldn’t stand this lizard?” he snapped. “at the time, i would’ve thrown her out myself. you think that would’ve made things happier, toriel?”

Toriel’s ears rose. “Perhaps it would have! The two of us had enough trouble getting you to confess your feelings!”

As if that was something they were entitled to. “oh, believe me. there’s plenty i haven’t confessed.”

“You wanted to th-th-throw me out?” interrupted Alphys.

He really had. “what can i say? i’m not like my brother. i hold grudges.”

“B-b-but… I needed a place to recover from my hypothermia!”

He shrugged. “ruins aren’t that cold.”

Toriel stood up. “Sans, that is heartless even for you!”

Oh shit—she really went there. “you think i’m heartless? tori, you don’t know the first sliver about me.”

“And whose fault, exactly, is that?”

“it’s no one’s fault. it’s my choice.”

Toriel planted her huge hands on the table. “Then prove me wrong! Give Alphys your forgiveness!”

“is that what this is about, tori? i already told you. i can’t do it!”

“All I ask is that you judge her formally!”

“i can’t. toriel, you understand what you’re asking of me? to let go? i’ve done the whole judgment already, all but the forgiveness. but i just can’t forgive the girl. it’d go against everything i am.”

“Everything you are?” Alphys objected. “I know I’m a mess, but I’m not the opposite of everything you are.”

Great. Now he had to say it baldly, and he didn’t want to. “forgiving you would mean i’m willing to let my brother go.”

“He is gone already,” countered Toriel, eyes fiery. “It is a tragedy, but he is gone. There is nothing left to let go of but a memory!”

“and you think i want to let go of that?”

“Judge her!” Holy spuds—she was actually roaring.

“Why are we yelling?” yelled Alphys. “W-we should be happy! We learned something amazing today!”

Toriel turned on her. “Did we? Is it really so amazing that my son did not simply die nine hundred years ago, but was forced to suffer, confused and alone, turning gradually more evil until quite possibly dying by my own hand? The word I would use for that is not ‘amazing!’”

Alphys held up her hands and waved them. “No! You’re missing the point! Don’t you see? This means that when we sprinkle the dust of dead monsters on things, it really does imbue them with their essence! And apparently if you inject them with determination, it brings them back!”

“now hold on,” said Sans.

“It means we can bring monsters back from the dead!!”

“Without a soul!” screamed Toriel.

“W-w-well yes, it’s not perfect, but—”

“that sounds like a really bad idea, kid.”

“I’m not a kid! And I’m not saying it’s a good idea, but…isn’t p-part of a person better than none?”

“if the part that’s missing is the soul? i don’t think it is. what, are we gonna take the scarf i sprinkled pap’s dust on and stick it with a needle? turn it into an evil talking scarf without a soul??”

“That’s not what I’m saying! I’m just saying, e-even if it’s not a good idea, sc-science is still advanced!”

“Well, tra-la-la!” said Toriel. “You will have to forgive those of us who are not scientists if we are not dancing on our—”

Brrrrrrrriing.

Toriel stopped short and looked across the room. They all did.

Brrrrrrrriing.

It was Toriel’s phone. Its old-fashioned ringtone hadn’t been heard since Sans and Alphys arrived. Not once. And there was only one person Sans could think of who might be calling.

Holy flip.

Brrrrrrrriing.

Toriel walked across the room and picked up the phone, examining its display. “It is the narrow-eyed child,” she numbly told her companions.

Brrrrrrrriing.

“seriously?” said Sans. “the human is calling us back?” He had not expected this when he made the call. He really hadn’t.

“P-p-p-pick it up!” cried Alphys.

Brrrrrrrrii—

Toriel pressed the talk button and held the phone to her ear, taking a shallow breath. “It is I, Toriel,” she said cautiously.

There was nothing for a few seconds. Then the boss monster’s jaw started to quiver. “Is it really you, my child?”

Her face went tight and strained, her eyes wide. She clapped one hand over the other. “My child, are you all right?”

A good ten seconds went by. Toriel shifted her position only slightly, her ears rising on either side. “Climbing? Do you mean you have been climbing the mountain? All day?”

“Put it on speakerphone!” Alphys shouted.

Toriel dutifully pressed the speakerphone button, and now a blend of mountain wind, background noise and emotional breathing filled the room. The reception was poor, making subtleties hard to pick up.

But there was a voice—meek, ragged, and familiar. “I’ve been calling all day, and all day yesterday. I tried to call from home, but I couldn’t get through. ‘Call recipient is outside of reception zone,’ it said.”

Toriel’s eyes drew closer together. “You could not call us back, but you did receive our message?”

“Yes!” cried the child on the other end. “I got Sans’ message. I listened to it over and over. I just wanted… I just wanted… to call back and say how sorry I am.”

Well how about that. How the everzotting flip about that. Sans walked over and leaned tensely against the banister.

“And so you decided that you would climb the mountain until you were able to reach us by telephone?” Toriel surmised.

A choked sound. “Yeah. I kind of didn’t think it would work. But I had to try.”

Toriel’s face was awash with compassion, but she kept her voice neutral. “It seems odd that the towers would be able to transfer our message to you, but unable to relay your call in return.”

“Search me! I don’t know why it is either. Toriel…” The child sighed deeply. “Toriel, Sans said you tried to rule as queen, but it didn’t work out. I’m so sorry.”

She smiled. “It is all right. I am really more suited to keeping a home than ruling a kingdom. But I was willing to do it, for it was my responsibility.”

“The reason they threw you out… it was me, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, my child. I am afraid that you have stained the image of humankind rather terribly among us.” Aw, Tori. Always the diplomat.

The child sniffled. “I should never have come.”

“Perhaps not, my dear one. You have caused despair to bloom in many hearts, and hatred in others.”

A broken sigh. “I didn’t even get what I wanted,” muttered the child. “It was all so stupid.” No , thought Sans. Calling this stupid is an insult to stupid things.

Now Alphys pattered closer. “Wh-what did you want in the first place?”

It was a few seconds before the child answered. “There was someone I wanted to meet. Someone who’d told me to come.”

“Who?”

Uncertainty cut through the voice. “Someone called Suzy? She talked to me in my dreams. She told me I had to come… I was their… your… only hope. Over and over she was there in my dreams, saying I was the only hope of monsterkind.”

Now this was intriguing. And unexpected. “did she say what exactly you were supposed to do for us?”

“No… no, and I was going to find her and ask her. I just wanted to meet her face to face. But… I never found out where she lived. I passed through the whole Underground, and I never found out what I was supposed to do, and I never found Suzy…”

“you sure she was real?” Sans asked. “maybe she really was just a dream. i don’t know anyone by that name, and i know a lot of people.”

Another sniffle. “She had to be real. At least I thought she did. They didn’t seem like normal dreams!”

Alphys spoke up. “I—I know someone called Suzy. She works in the core! She asks me questions sometimes. Well, she used to, anyway. I… I guess I won’t be seeing her anymore.”

“Was she a mouse?” asked the voice, now tinged with hope.

“Yes! She’s my f-former coworker’s daughter. Wh—why didn’t you ask me about her?”

“She didn’t want me to tell anyone about her. She said it was important that the fact she visited me in my dreams had to be secret. So I didn’t tell anyone!”

Scratch what he’d thought before. Calling this plan an insult to stupid things was an insult to things that were insults to stupid things. “great plan,” said Sans. “then how were you gonna find her?”

“I just thought… she’d be there! I thought I’d stumble into her, or she’d meet me. I guess that was really stupid though.”

“no. i’ll tell you what’s stupid. coming to the underground with a pristine soul and leaving with three levels of violence.”

The kid was suddenly silent.

Sans walked up to Toriel and gently took the phone from her. “you must be some kind of class a idiot,” he said into it. “if you’re gonna kill helpless monsters with your powerful human soul, why not go all out? why not a murder spree? wouldn’t that have been more fun? why in the chilly, frigid world did you just let yourself go a little bit?”

All he got was a hesitant “Um—” before he went on.

“i know asgore didn’t give you much of a choice. he made his choice a long time ago. but why…. why? i can’t believe i’m asking this. i can’t believe these words are gonna come out of my mouth. why did you do it, kid? why, for all that’s holy, did you kill my only brother?!”

“Sans.” It was like a plea for clemency. “Sans, I’m sorry. You’re right to be angry. He was trying to capture me—I thought he was a bad guy. He was going to bring me to the castle, where I thought I’d die. That’s my only excuse.”

“are you flipping kidding me? capture you? kid, you let him capture you! he stuck you in a cage with bars you could walk right out through. he could have killed you in that fight, and he didn’t. so after that, you knew he wasn’t gonna kill you. if you were paying any attention at all, you would’ve known he was gentle and wouldn’t hurt a soul!”

“He was tough… he hurt me. I was having trouble with his blue attacks, and I’d already lost to him once…”

“i tried to tell you, kid, blue attacks mean stop.”

“I know! But it was hard, and… I was getting sick of fighting him, and I’d already lost to him once… I just… thought I’d start fighting and see what happened.”

“see what…” Sans was flabbergasted with disbelief. "kid, you... you couldn't figure out any other way to get by him? this is papyrus we're talking here. the sweetest, big-heartedest guy you could ever... are you seriously telling me you thought the only way to get past... you could have asked him nicely and he probably would have let you by. you could have told him puns until he fell over cringing. you could have made a puzzle to distract him. you could have even tried flirting. hell, you could have just lost to him two or three more times and he probably would've gotten sick of capturing you and let you go! stars' sake, kid, how could you think the only option was to kill him?"

“I… was dumb. I know that. I guess… it’s just that I was getting frustrated, and I hadn’t killed anything yet, and I was wondering what would happen. So I… so I tried it.”

Sans was momentarily struck speechless. But he got over it, because some things had to be said. “you tried killing. you were curious, so you tried killing. just for a lark. kid, do you have any idea how horrible you sound?”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“and why him? if you were gonna snap and dust somebody, why him? undyne actually tried to kill you, like, for real. and instead of killing her, you gave her water. muffet tried to feed you to her pet, and you paid her for the privilege. toriel tried to keep you in the ruins, and you hugged her for trying. you had a whole humming concert with shyren. mettaton tried to kill you on television four times. an army of dogs tried to bring you down. all through the underground, monster after monster attacked you, and you didn’t lift a finger against them. but somehow, out of all the monsters in the underground, out of everyone who stood in your way, the one monster you chose to kill was a guy who went out of his way to design puzzles he thought you’d like. a guy who cooked for you. a guy who shut down his bridge of doom ‘cause it wasn’t sporting. a guy who would have been your friend for life if you’d just tried. everyone else gets mercy, and my sweet, sweet brother gets destroyed. where was your mercy then? huh? where was it then?!”

The child was sobbing audibly now. “I’m sorry,” they said.

“yeah. good,” said Sans. “you be sorry. you just sit on that mountainside, miles away from anyone who’s got the power to kill you without breaking a sweat, and you be sorry. that’ll fix things.”

“Sans!” cried Toriel.

He sighed heavily and held the phone at arm’s length. “someone else talk to this kid. i’m done.”

Toriel retrieved the phone. “I am here, my child.”

There was only crying and wind.

After a while, Toriel frowned.. “I am not going to instruct you not to cry, my child. It may be that your tears are the healthiest tool you possess. And you have done a great wrong. Even so, when you are finished crying, I will be here.”

“hang up the phone,” said Sans. He was slumped on the floor now. Couldn’t she see there wasn’t any point?

“I will not hang up the phone,” she retorted. “My ninth child has called to talk to me, and I will not refuse them.”

Sans felt his darkness compounding. “hang up the phone, tori,” he repeated, more darkly this time.

Her eyes flared at him. “I will not.”

Alphys hurried over to cuddle Sans. Strangely enough, it actually helped. “I-it’s o-okay, Sans,” she assured him. “The call won’t last forever… and the human can’t hurt us… and you don’t have to listen if you don’t want to.”

He knew he didn’t have to listen, but really, he had to listen. “don’t give that murderer the dignity of comfort,” he told Toriel. “comfort is for good people.”

“Comfort is for everyone,” she countered. “Even the sinful.”

The voice blubbered indistinctly over the phone. “I didn’t want to be sinful. I wanted to do the right thing.”

“You know,” reflected Alphys, “Papyrus wasn’t the only monster the human killed. Um.. wh-what about Woshua?”

The blubbering stopped. “Um,” said the child after a while. “Was that the… the one shaped like a bathtub, with a bird floating in it?”

“Yes! He was beneficial to the Waterfall ecology! Why did you kill him?”

The child took a breath. “Um… I was trying to beat him up so I could spare him, but I hit him too hard by mistake.”

Sans stood up, his eye glowing. “are you kidding me?!”

“It was a mistake! He was attacking me!”

“kid, he just wanted you to wash up. you were a mess by then. you had mud on your ankles, snow on your face, and my brother’s dust all over you.”

“It felt like he was attacking me. I didn’t know. I didn’t know how to communicate with any of the monsters. I didn’t think they’d be so hard to talk to.”

“Was I hard to talk to, my child?” asked Toriel.

“Not at first. But later… when I wanted to move on… I just don’t understand why you had to fight me over it.”

Toriel winced. “In hindsight, I was wrong to. I should not have tested your combat strength… as if that was the best measure of your readiness to wander the Underground. Perhaps I should have destroyed the way out instead, as I originally planned.”

“Then I’d still be stuck there with you!”

“Yes,” said Toriel resolutely. “And I with you.”

Wow. Tori really was amazing, wasn’t she?

A gust of wind, perhaps snow, picked up over the phone. “Is that really what you would have wanted? For me to grow up there, and die there with you, and never see my family again?”

Toriel pressed the phone tightly against her face. “Child, I would have been your family. I know it is not the life you would have wanted. It would not be my choice, either. But I knew that the only alternatives would lead to death.”

In frustration then: “Why—why wouldn’t Asgore just talk to me? Why wouldn’t he give me the cup of tea he wanted to offer? I told him I wanted the tea! I just wanted to talk things out, and he… he fought me so hard…”

“I do not fully comprehend what came over his heart in the years since I left, my child. The man whom I once loved more than anything must surely have changed a great deal. But I suppose he believed firmly that there was simply no alternative—that one of you must die.”

“But… but that wasn’t true!” cried the child. “Alphys, you were wrong!”

Alphys jerked to attention. “Wrong? Wh-what do you mean?”

“You told me I couldn’t pass through the barrier alone! You said I’d have to kill Asgore if I wanted to go free. And I didn’t want to kill him. I was terrified. I was mad you hadn’t told me sooner so I could have gotten used to it. But when I reached the throne room, I thought I was almost ready to do it, if I had to…”

“But you did kill him, my child!” cried Toriel.

“No! No I didn’t! I fought him until he was weak, and I thought maybe then he’d be willing to talk, but then… someone else killed him! And they destroyed his soul before I could even think about absorbing it.”

All three of them were wide-eyed. Sans remembered standing over a large pile of dust while the walls moaned in agony, thinking, Yep. Lucky seven’s the charm. They finally got him.

“what are you talking about?” he demanded. “who killed asgore, if not you?”

“…a flower,” said the child. “An evil flower did it.”

Holy batflip.

Tori and Alphys gasped. Sans thought fast and decided to play dumb. “a flower, huh? you expect us to believe that?”

“It’s true! He was the first creature I met in the Underground… he called himself Flowey the Flower… he said in this world it was ‘kill or be killed.’ I don’t know if he meant the Underground, or the whole world including the surface.”

“ok. sure. so let’s say i buy that,” Sans continued. “why did this flowey the flower kill the big guy?”

“He wanted to… steal the souls of the other children? He killed Asgore, then he took the other souls and turned into a huge, terrible plant monster. Then he… fought me. He nearly killed me… but the souls didn’t want to be in him, and they healed me so I could survive.”

Sans let his grin fall away. “Be honest, kid. Did he nearly kill you, or did he kill you, and you came back?” The question was a calculated risk—hopefully the others wouldn’t think too hard about it.

“What?” asked Alphys.

“…I came back,” said the voice. “He brought me back. He wanted to kill me a million times. I almost thought he was really going to.”

“H-how did you…?”

The child went on. “But then the six souls left him, and he couldn’t defend himself anymore. I hit him and hit him, and they kept healing me… and then they circled around and around him, and the next thing I knew… he was just a flower again, wilting and… and weak, in front of me.”

“And then what did you do, my child?” asked Toriel, nearly breathless.

“I talked to him. And he told me I… that I should kill him. That if I didn’t kill him, he’d come back, just as bad as before.”

Toriel was clutching the phone hard with both hands, as if in prayer. “And… and what did you do, my child? Did you kill him, or did you show him mercy?”

Moment of truth for goatmom, thought Sans. The child was silent for a long, painful moment.

“I showed him mercy. He ran away.”

Toriel exhaled deeply in relief. Sans did too.

“I thought I’d be trapped, then. But when I went up to the barrier, I passed right through. It was all swimming for a moment, then everything went white, then it went dark again. And then I was back on the mountainside, next to a cave. I ran down the mountain without looking back, and I’m lucky I didn’t fall and break my bones.”

“You… you never absorbed a monster soul?” asked Alphys.

“No. I got through alone. Just like I fell into the Underground alone.”

She wrung her hands. “I wonder what this means.”

“I guess it means whoever told you it takes a human and monster soul together to get back was lying, or wrong,” said the child. “I didn’t have to kill Asgore after all. If he’d just listened… and if he’d just let me try going through on my own… I would have been fine, and he wouldn’t have had to die.”

“B-but he didn’t want to let you through,” said Alphys. “He wanted to kill you, so we’d have the seventh soul we needed to break the barrier, and we could all go free.”

“Are you sure I’d have to die for that? Are you sure we couldn’t have just worked together to break it?”

“I… I think so! I—the legends all say the souls need to be together in a single vessel. And humans can’t absorb other human souls, so someone like Asgore would have to t-take yours. I r-really thought it was you or him. But… if I was wrong about the barrier… then who knows what else the legends might be wrong about!”

“All he had to do was pour a cup of tea,” said the child resentfully. “Then we might have found out.”

“Are you well, my child?” asked Toriel suddenly. “Are you back with your true family?”

“…Yeah. I went back. They don’t know I’m up here now, though. And it’s getting cold, and I’m getting afraid. I should really be going down again.”

“Yes! Please do not endanger yourself on our account, my child. Go back to safety.”

“I will.”

“And thank you for going to so much trouble to call us. I had not imagined it would be so difficult.”

“Yeah. You’re welcome.”

Sans felt the need to say something, even if it was ugly. “hey kid. you know i could never forgive you, right? never ever. not in a million lifetimes.”

“Yeah,” said the voice sadly. “I know.”

“If you ever come up in the mountains again, dress warmly!” called Alphys. “Warmer than you think you need!”

“Okay.”

Toriel sniffled. “Goodbye, my child. It was… it was good to hear your voice.”

“Yours too, Tor… Mom. And, uh… by the way, I’ve got a name.”

She gasped happily. “Will you tell it to us?”

“Yeah. It’s Frisk. I’m called Frisk.”

Toriel’s face wore a silly, baffled smile. “Frisk? Is that truly your name?”

“What kind of a name is that?” asked Alphys.

“A better one than Mew Mew,” said the child.

“That is not truly the name your parents gave you, is it?” Toriel asked.

“Maybe not,” said the child. “But it’s the one I’ve got.”

Toriel’s smile went true. “Very well, then. Take care… Frisk.”

“You too, Mom. Byebye.”

Abruptly, the howl of wind ceased. They stood in silence again.

“Wow,” said Alphys.

“Oh my gracious,” said Toriel. “What a surprise.”

“So… so your son is still alive!” Alphys exclaimed. “You didn’t kill him!”

“No… and neither did the child, thankfully. Oh! I should have asked what happened to the other human souls.”

Alphys slapped her forehead. “You’re right! Oh well… the kid p-probably didn’t know, anyway.”

“And to think! Asgore was done in, in the end, by his own bloodlust. It seemed as though the child… Frisk… was actually hoping to bargain.”

“And brainstorm.”

“And yet Asgore would not be swayed from fighting.”

“Yeah! It’s sad. B-but in a way it’s my fault, because I told the hum—Frisk, that they needed a monster soul to get out again. And apparently it wasn’t true! I wonder whether the magicians who originally created the spell spread d-d-disinformation about it to the monsters, in order to scare them.” She looked tentatively at Toriel. “You… you were alive back then, weren’t you? Do you remember hearing about the spell before it was cast?”

“It was so very long ago… I can remember so little, except that suddenly I knew we would be called on to fight or flee, and that I would be called on to lead…”

“gotta say,” interrupted Sans, who’d been silent since the end of the call. “i wasn’t sure i wanted the kid to call back, and i’m still not sure i’m glad they did. but at least now i know. they didn’t have a reason for killing paps. they really are as terrible as i thought.”

“Sans,” said Toriel. “Is the child really as terrible as all that?”

“killing just to see what happens? just ‘cause they were a little frustrated? yeah, tori. that kid’s a real piece of work.”

“Yes, but! A million lifetimes, Sans?”

He shrugged, not regretting his words one bit. “i feel the way i feel, tori. i won’t tell you how to feel. i just hope they never call again.”

“They seemed pretty broken up about everything,” Alphys observed. “A lot like I was, the other day.”

“they’re broken up, all right.” He brushed past Alphys on his way back to the hallway. But that was a good point—the lizard actually knew how to do repentance. “i’m gonna go lie down a while. let it all sink in.”

“All right, Sans,” said Toriel. “And… and Sans. I am sorry I spoke the way I did earlier. I do not know what came over me. It was unbecoming, and I apologize.”

Like they hadn’t all lost their tempers. “don’t worry about it.” He reached the hallway, then realized something was bugging him. Something unfinished. Something that needed doing, but that he hadn’t been able to do until… until…

Oh. Yeah. “oh, and alphy? i forgive you.”

She straightened herself in shock. “Wh-what?”

“you heard me. don’t make me say it twice. see you later.” With that, he disappeared down the hallway. But he heard the bell clang, three times, from out of nowhere in particular. Like it always did.

He was powered by hatred right now. It felt like a betrayal, to let hatred have its way even a little bit. But it was necessary sometimes. Right now, his hatred for the kid was opening up doors. It made things feel clearer. It made the future seem brighter. And behind him, Alphys and Toriel were holding hands and giggling while looking his way.

As he slipped into his bedroom at the end of the hall, the giggling became full blown laughter, and he caught a glimpse of them dancing awkwardly in a circle, holding hands and stepping around the furniture as if the three bells had been the start of a merry madrigal.

Good. If being forgiven meant that much to a person, it was a pretty sure bet they were worth it.

GUESS WHAT PART II HAS

PART II HAS BONUS SONGS

HERE IS ONE:

Carry On, My Child

(To “Carry On” by fun)

Well I came upon an evil flower
His bullets were cutting like fear through the darkness.
And I found you with a tiny toy knife,
Your hand in a bandage and heart like a child I once knew

You smiled and said
"May I call
May I call you Mom?"
And I took you as my own
despite knowing where you're from
And now you want to leave my care
And all I ask
is that you never look back.

If you're lost and alone
You are welcome here in Home
Carry on, my child!
Autumn leaves mark the sound
Of your feet upon the ground
Carry on, my child!
Carry on, my dear one!

So I met up with some friends
from a long time ago
At a bar in Snowdin Town
And we talked and talked
About which monsters would die
If a human should come.

But I like to think you will prove them wrong
To make up for all the children I woke up to find were gone
I am incomplete
But I dream sometimes
That the values I worked so hard to teach
might survive in just one child!

If you're lost and alone
And you want to just get home
Carry on, my child!
Crunching snow marks the sound
Of your feet upon the ground
Carry on, my child!

Ohhhh
I'm playing with fire!
But I'm not afraid
Because you are my child.
I will step aside from the door
Nevermore
will you look
on my face
But nobody else can stop you now!

All those specks of light
are not really stars
which is fine:
we never claimed they are.
If you make a wish
I will pray for you
even if your wish and mine
cannot both come true!

If you're lost and alone
I will give you my CELL PHONE.
Carry on, my child!
Falling rain masks the sound
Of your feet upon the ground
Carry on, my child!

Carry on, my dear one.

(Nobody will stop you now!)
(Nobody... will stop you now!)

Magma plumes mask the sound
of your feet upon the ground
Carry on, my child!

(Only ASGORE can stop you now.)

(to outro:)
Because you are
You are a shining star
But remember please
That you are who you are
On your darkest day
So I fear to know
How many lives you'll end
Before you find your way home!

[&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&]

Chapter Text

[+]

Scene 29: Happiness Blossoms

or

“Here We Are”

Toriel was seated on an old wooden chair. She felt it creaking under her weight, but for once, she simply didn’t care. If it broke, Alphys would build her another, no doubt in a different style, and better than ever. “Doctor, what would you say to a platter of hot, buttered snails with chives and mushrooms?”

Alphys was sitting in Toriel’s big chair—she’d ended up there after their celebratory romp, and Toriel saw no reason to make her move. The scientist clapped her nimble little hands and perked up. “Ooh, that sounds scrumptious!”

Toriel stood, and the chair groaned but did not give way. “I will make enough for all of us, then, in case Sans decides to get up. If he asks what we are celebrating, we will remind him of his final words. But we will be out of snails for a while. We will have to go hunting tomorrow!”

“I—I could go along and help. I’d, uh… like to know how it’s done.”

“Of course, doctor! And perhaps while we are hunting, you will find a dwelling you like and decide to make it your own!”

“Y-yeah! It’ll be fun! Hey… Toriel?”

Toriel peeked out from the kitchen, leaning on one foot. “Yes, Alphys?”

“Wh-why do you think Sans forgave me? Just… out of the blue like that?”

It was a good question. “I can only imagine it was something to do with the phone call! Perhaps talking with the human child gave him a sense of perspective, and he realized that in comparison with the child, your own guilt is paltry.”

Alphys leapt down from the easy chair and smiled. “Yeah! That must be it. I didn’t know how much it was bothering me.”

Toriel went to the fridge and took out her last tray of snails. “It is certainly good to have Sans’s forgiveness. But I am more delighted to have received the call in the first place. I am not certain why… but it was such a surprise! After so many days, I did not think the child would be calling us back.”

“I wonder if the monster who somehow appeared in their dreams really is the Suzy I knew from the Core,” Alphys speculated. “I wish… I wish I could go back and ask her.”

“Well, we still have our disguises!” Toriel pointed out. “Perhaps such a journey is not impossible. Or you could simply write an anonymous letter and have the spiders deliver it.”

“Yeah, that’s true! I think I’ll do that. Did you.. have any other thoughts about what the child said?”

The story of how her son’s ghost, or whatever he was now, had become a terrifying plant monster seethed in Toriel’s mind. She pushed the painful thought aside, choosing instead to reflect on the child’s name. “Frisk. That is an old word for a dance, or gambol. I wonder why a child of ten would choose it for themselves.”

“M-maybe they like to dance through life? But then again…”

“Perhaps it was this ability to dance through obstacles and encounters that allowed them to escape our realm, when all the others failed,” Toriel mused. “Still. They have stained their soul, and are coming to understand what that means. I am afraid that Frisk may not be doing much gamboling from here out.”

This sobering thought silenced both of them. Still. The child had climbed the mountain again just to apologize. They acknowledged their wrong, and it grieved them. It seemed likely to Toriel that they would be able to move on, in time.

She resumed cooking the snails. “We have a great deal to sift through, I fear. But I, for one, am glad of it. Oh! And do not think I have forgotten that you and Sans are keeping a secret from me!”

Somehow, this fact that had bothered Toriel tremendously only half an hour ago now felt almost like a game. She was living with good people, her dear friends. Any secret would reveal itself eventually, and until it did, if they felt it better to keep her from knowing whatever it was, she would trust them. They valued her happiness, after all.

It was amazing how much tension had been released, just by hearing from the narrow-eyed child! It was silly to think of Frisk as ‘her’ child, she knew. But the fact remained—of the endless stream of human children to pass through her home and care, one had finally made it back to the surface, and had talked to her from there. The chain of destruction was broken!

“I… I can tell you what we were talking about if you really want,” said Alphys from the doorway. “It’s just… I’m afraid it might make you worried, and it’s… it’s so much nicer to see you happy.”

“Is it a matter of urgency, Alphys?”

“I… no, I don’t think so.”

“Then we shall let it wait! I, too, prefer myself happy.” Toriel turned around, showing off her freshly stained apron and putting one foot out to the side. “Tell me, Alphys. Do you find me appealing to look at?”

Alphys breathed in for so long it appeared she had forgotten the second step—breathing out. She held her hands crossed over her chest and couldn’t say a word.

Toriel chuckled and stooped down. “Oh, really! I was barely posing. Do you really find a homely old thing like me attractive? It is such a funny idea, yet I see that it is true!”

“Um!” Alphys pulled herself back from the doorway and peered intermittently between her feet, the doorframe, the ceiling, and occasionally Toriel herself. “Wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-what makes you s-s-say that, T-Toriel?”

Toriel tried to keep her smile beneficent, rather than amused. “To begin with, there is the fact that even you do not normally stutter this much. Have I made you nervous, Dr. Alphys?”

The reptile’s lower jaw quivered, unable to form sounds at first. “Um… yes?” she peeped.

“Oh, Alphys. I am sorry. But it was very clear to me, when we spoke earlier, that you were not truly enamored with my judge. You were only saying so to humor me. It was not his availability that concerned you, was it? It was mine! Am I correct?”

Alphys hid her face in her hands and squealed in embarrassment. Her tail curled up so far that it rolled itself up her back in a ring. On a whim, and driven by happiness, Toriel took a liberty she would not normally take: she took hold of that wound-up appendage and gently unwound it. Alphys looked back in dismay and watched her.

“There. That is better.” She sat then, crossing her legs loosely. “Alphys?”

The scientist faced her nervously. “Y-y-y-yes?”

“It is all right! We will face this together. We are friends, you and I. And if it so happens that you find me attractive… well!” She tilted her head and let her ears flip. “While I may not be able to reciprocate, I will certainly not hold it against you!”

Redness pervaded the reptile’s face. “Um… um… heheh! Yes, it’s true. I… I have a little bit of a… of a… of a tremendous crush on you!”

Toriel felt herself blushing as well. She wondered whether it was visible. “That is very flattering, Alphys! Almost as flattering as it is mysterious! If it had not been for your question, and Sans’s intuition when I discussed it with him, I would never have guessed! For it simply seems so strange to me. I am not used to thinking of myself as… desirable.” Except, perhaps, to Asgore, but there was a special bond between those who have grown old together… or in their case, who have failed to do so.

“B—But you are desirable, Tori! It’s… it’s a miracle you’re still single after all these years! You’re beautiful, and you’re s-so kind, and so… and so generous, and so… so wise, and you’re a great cook, and your voice is so perfect, and you’re so tall and woolly and peaceful and funny and you have so much integrity it turns me on just to think about it, and I just want to turn on a tap and stick it in you and let the integrity run out over my body and just wallow in a tub filled with your integrity!”

Oh goodness. Oh goodness gracious. She had not been expecting a reaction like this. “Dear one… I do not know what to say. You are making me feel young again!”

“G-g-good! You deserve to feel young!” Alphys fiddled with the end of her tail now, apparently unsure what to say, or perhaps on the verge of words she was afraid to speak.

Toriel did not know what to say either. She wished she could tell Alphys what she clearly wanted to hear—that Toriel found Alphys equally attractive. But that would be no white lie. It would be a weighty one, capable of great harm, and she could not tell it. But neither could she crush her dear companion’s hopes—not now, not when Sans had just forgiven her. She did not know the gentle way to handle this; to do as a mother so often must and dispense disappointment without bitterness. For Alphys was no child, and it was not Toriel’s place to lecture her on the disappointments of life… And oh! The snails were still cooking!

Toriel got up with a little gasp and tended to the dish—it was fine, aside from a few chives sticking to the bottom of the pan. “Well, doctor. You have succeeded in distracting me, but not for long enough to spoil our meal!”

“B-but!” objected Alphys. “You distracted me!”

Toriel looked back as she handled the spatula. “Oh! Yes. I suppose it is my own fault, then.” She extinguished the flames and turned back to Alphys. “I wish… I wish that I could say I am attracted to you as well, Alphys…” she began apologetically.

The poor creature hunched over in what appeared to be shame. “I-it’s all right. I know you don’t feel that way about me, Tori. That’s why I didn’t want to say anything! You deserve someone a lot better than me.”

This would not do. Her lips pressing together, Toriel stooped down and picked Alphys up, managing to be reasonably graceful about it. Alphys went wide-eyed and cried out in surprise, but did not struggle. Toriel held her firmly against her chest.

“I will not let you disparage yourself in my household, Alphys. You are a treasure. An absolute treasure. And while… while it is true that I am not titillated by your appearance, I do find you adorable, and beyond that, fascinating. You are an amazing addition to my life! I would be lucky to deserve someone like you.”

Alphys looked up longingly, her cheeks red once more. “But—but you do have me! And weren’t you disparaging yourself a minute ago?”

Well. She had a point! Toriel laughed, and was amused to feel the plump monster in her arms bounce with her laughter. “Still. Mark my words, doctor. I am not saying that you are too good for me. It merely seems that we would be a peculiar match, that is all.”

It seemed that Alphys was overwhelmed by having Toriel hold her. She was afraid to put her hands on Toriel’s robe. “Um, yes, but… but isn’t variety the spice of life? And I’m not saying you should like me… but if you did… well, you were with Asgore for an aw-awfully long time, and, well… I’m about as different from Asgore as you can get!”

Toriel smiled hugely. She could not deny the truth of that. “You are perhaps a smidgen small for me.”

Alphys smiled with embarrassment, her nose prominent. “I b-barely come up to your belly.”

“And we are both women. Surely that has not escaped you.”

The lizard exuded only excitement. “What’s wrong with women? I think—I think we’re great!”

“But am I not too old for you?” Toriel pled, embracing the absurdity of the situation even as she embraced Alphys herself.

“Well, you only seem maybe f-f-forty-five. And I think age is really attractive, anyway. Every year you’ve lived… means that many more things you’ve learned!”

“And learning excites you, does it, doctor?”

The yellow tail thwapped against Toriel’s hip. “O-o-of course! If learning didn’t excite me… well, what would?”

This was refreshing indeed. “In that case, my sweet one, you are indeed rather different from Asgore.”

“But… but not all in a bad way, right?”

Toriel gently shook her head. “Not at all in a bad way. You and he are simply different… just as you and I are different.”

Alphys looked up with hope. “Do you think… do you think maybe you could learn to love me?”

On some level, it was simply not possible. “Oh, Alphys. It is not that there is anything wrong with you! I am simply not available!”

“B-but.. you’re not seeing anyone, are you?”

“I am not. But my husband still dwells in my heart, dear one. And my heart will never be without him.”

Alphys cuddled her head against Toriel’s chest. “I don’t want to make him move out. I just want to move in!” she murmured.

“Oh doctor! You are so…” Silly? Foolish? “Childlike at times.”

“It’s interesting to h-hear you say that. I was never really good at being a child. Maybe it took me a-all this time to get the hang of it! M-maybe in another twenty or thirty years, I’ll figure out how to be a grown-up!”

Toriel laughed. “Would you like me to put you down, doctor?”

The yellow arms hugged her boldly now, snail juice on her apron notwithstanding. “Oh, you don’t have to do that! I kind of like it here.”

Toriel chuckled and walked into the living room, bearing her companion on her belly. “In that case, would you like to sit in the easy chair with me?”

She looked up shyly. “Yes! Yes I would!”

So Toriel sat. And as she sat, she held the much smaller monster on her lap, against her breasts, and peered at her. She was trying to imagine the idea of loving this person—not in the sense of the love borne for a dear friend, but of the deep love reserved for a spouse or a constant companion. It was not an easy thing to imagine, but it was not incredibly difficult, either. The cute bucktoothed smile—the receding headspikes—the small, earnest arms—Toriel could conceive of coming to love these things. Whether it was wise to do so, she doubted, but she knew that if she wished to love Doctor Alphys… it was an option open to her. It was not as impossible an idea as it had seemed at first. Relationships, after all, were cultivated, not discovered.

“I… I’m afraid to say anything, in case you decide to put me down,” murmured Alphys.

Toriel let her hand drift slowly down her companion’s back. “I am pleased to remain here for now. But may I at least remove the apron? You will stain your delightful little face!”

Alphys lifted her head. “Oh! Yes, please! Do… do you really think my face is delightful?”

Toriel clucked her tongue against her teeth. “Shhhhh. Let us simply sit.” She let herself relax, and felt Alphys relaxing against her, and remembered sitting like this with Emma, the sweetest of her children, long ago. With Alphys on her lap like this, it was easy for Toriel to imagine that she again had a child. But then, Alphys was no child, was she? She was a would-be lover. How very strange a thought! A potential lover with a child’s shape and temperament!

But then again, Alphys could do things that Toriel knew no child was capable of. She envisioned this lump of scales on her lap putting together a turbine to seize the wind and bring electricity to her home. She pondered the notion that the chubby thing resting upon her belly might someday build a machine to detect souls hiding in the aether, and thus lead monsterkind to freedom. The key to her people’s future might well be seated right here in this round little frame that Toriel was currently supporting. And she was making her happy. Toriel was making the Royal Scientist happy. She could not describe how ebullient that idea made her. She felt like a mother again, albeit less so… yet also more so. For on this moment on this special day, Toriel felt like a lover again. And there was little, if anything, as satisfying as dispensing unconditional love.

As the barroom drama that had turned out to be a dream faded from cogence, or at least from relevance, Sans found himself staring at the familiar ceiling of the child’s bedroom. Yep, he was still here. Yep, he’d been asleep, and that affair from the golden age of Grillby’s had just been a bunch of scrambled memories, served to him a la carte. And—a pang he’d felt a couple dozen times now—yep, Papyrus was really gone. That was real life, and it would stay that way, no matter how many more times he fell asleep.

Sans spent a minute coming to terms with this as far as he knew how, which wasn’t much. Then he spent another minute or two grappling with what they’d learned about dust and determination. ‘Essence’—that was what they called whatever it was that formed the personality of a monster—it apparently persisted in the dust you crumbled into when you died. And if they put it on something… it got imbued with your essence. For real. No stories, no wishful thinking, no kidding.

Where was Papyrus now, he wondered? What was left of him, without his soul? Did he still hear or feel things, wherever he was? Did he know what Sans was going through? Was there… maybe, just possibly, some chance he could come back someday?

Maybe for someone other than Sans. Maybe Undyne would someday get to train Papyrus again, if she realized how special she was. But Sans would never get to hear that voice again.

Yet there were other things worth living for, weren’t there? Like the happiness of other people, for example. The riverman had reminded him of that. And that meant helping Tori and, yes, Alphys along in their projects, however he could.

He lay there a long moment before asking himself: So what comes next? Oh right—Alphys needed a home of her own. She needed someplace to start rebuilding from. And that would have the happy side effect of getting her out of Toriel’s wool, so that Sans could get back to figuring out how to cheer her up. He’d have to go and spy on Undyne some more, of course. Maybe deliver some messages back and forth if Toriel wanted to stay in touch with the empress. But chances were, what Tori needed most was just a listening ear and time to process everything that’d gone wrong. Sans could give her that. He just hoped it was enough.

Well, enough moping. It wasn’t even morning, was it? This was just an afternoon nap. So, with a heavy sigh, he rolled out of bed and slumped against the side of it. He stood up, joints cracking, and rolled his back to stretch it. Then he peered at the children’s things around the room. Strange place to be sleeping these days.

Still, he had to admit he liked the way the background music changed when he turned the lamp on and off. Not that anyone else could hear background music—Toriel might not even know.

Pulling on his hoodie, Sans wandered out into the hall. He heard voices, but they weren’t coming from the foyer or living room, like he might expect. Then where were—oh. They were coming from Toriel’s bedroom. What were the girls doing in there?

He ambled over to the door and put his face up to it. Time was, he’d just put his ear against a door if he wanted to hear through it. But it was better to put your face on late-regenerating half cycles and stick it through the door, if you knew how. That way you could see and hear what was going on, and you’d only be noticed if somebody was trying.

They were both in there. Toriel was on her bed, feet just touching the floor. Alphys was sitting on the carpet, watching her. And Tori’s focus was on all Alphys—she was beaming, even.

“You are very good,” she said at last.

It seemed to make Alphys panic. “B-but Toriel… but Toriel, y-YOU are very good!”

Tori lifted a hand to her mouth in shock. “Oh, Alphys, you are very good!”

“Um… no,” the lizard decided. “You are very good.”

“No, my child,” said Toriel, “you are very good.”

“But—but!” said Alphys, curving her tail and pointing her finger. “You are very good!”

Sans pulled away from the door and stared at it for a while. “heh,” he said aloud.

Then he wandered into the kitchen and found a half-cooked pan of snails and mushrooms on the range. Looked like Tori’d had to leave in a hurry, yet there they were, playing some kind of game. Didn’t take a genius to put things together. Sans picked up a slightly soggy snail and put it down, letting it turn to energy in his ribcage. Then, with a sigh, he turned on the heat to finish cooking the meal.

Ten minutes later, the grub was done. Sans carried the pan out just in time to hear Toriel’s door open. He hustled to get some plates and re-entered the living room at an amble. The ladies were just coming in.

“Oh! Sans! You have finished my cooking!” exclaimed Toriel.

“yep. looked like you got distracted by something, so i figured i’d pitch in.”

Toriel held her hands together, embarrassed. “Thank you very much, Sans. It smells heavenly. I hope you found your nap satisfying?”

He started dishing snails and passing out loaded plates. “oh, it was pretty decent. not in the top hundred, so far as naps go. but it got the job done.”

Alphys was grinning, unable to contain herself. “Well, I’m glad if you’re feeling better. I—I’m feeling a lot better! I can’t believe just a couple hours ago, we were s-sitting here yelling at each other.”

“life’s funny that way, huh?” Sans took his seat. “bone appetit.”

“Bone appetit yourself,” said Toriel, grinning. She took an indulgently big bite and savored the snails in her mouth.

Alphys’s tail tip was up, swaying just a little behind the back of her chair. The top button of her labcoat was undone. Her scales seemed a brighter shade of yellow than usual. Toriel’s wool seemed to be gleaming, and she held her knuckles in her fingers while she was chewing, like she needed a place for her energy to go.

Welp. Sometimes everything reads like Wing Dings, but other times, you see the writing on the wall.

“so i’ve been thinking,” said Sans. “there’s three bedrooms here, right? and there’s three of us. so maybe alph here doesn’t really need her own place. she could just stay here with us.”

The two of them exchanged a surprised glance, then looked at Sans. “B-but… are you sure that would be all right?” Alphys asked.

Sans shrugged, taking a bite. “seems kinda silly to make you move out when it’s pretty much just the three of us out here. and i was thinking… that kid’s bedroom doesn’t really suit me. maybe i should take the room at the end of the hall and make it my own. then you could have the kid’s room, al. i figure you’d probably like it better.”

Alphys scratched her cheek! “Oh! Um, well, m-maybe I would!”

“i don’t mind starting from scratch. i prefer it, really. in fact, maybe i should be the one moving out. there’s a lot of old, moldy buildings out there in the ruins of the city. probably there’s at least one that’d speak to me.”

Toriel knitted her brows. “This is all so sudden, Sans!”

He shrugged. “sometimes you just get a wake-up call. anyway, i just want you to be happy, tori. if you’re happy, then i am too.”

Alphys dropped her fingers on the table and looked nervously at Toriel. The boss monster flicked her ears meaningfully.

“W-well, Sans,” said Alphys, “I want you to be happy too. And I think it’s really nice the way we’re all together right now. I n-never dreamed things would be this nice, um, just a couple weeks ago. I thought everything… everything was lost! B-but it wasn’t. It really wasn’t. I just lost a few things, but I f-found a few new things, too… and—and it just goes to show you!”

“yeah,” said Sans. “it just goes to show you.”

“So… so why don’t we all keep living here, in this cozy house, for a while and s-s-see how it goes! I mean… maybe we’ll get sick of each other, but it hasn’t happened yet, right?”

“nah,” Sans agreed. “tell the truth, i’m just starting to get fond of you.”

“Well then,” said Toriel, placing her hands meaningfully on the table. “Here we are.”

“Here we are,” agreed Alphys.

“just a little happy family,” said Sans. He lifted his water glass. “wish we had some root beer so we could drink a proper toast.”

Toriel smirked. “I think I can help you there, Sans. One thing the Underground possesses in abundance… is roots!”

Alphys laughed. “And I just pulled mine up!”

“i’m hoping i can set some down,” put in Sans.

“We have all been a bit uprooted,” said Toriel. “But tomorrow we will collect snails and sassafras root, and we will build up our larder. I am hopeful that we will also build up our love for each other.” She raised her water glass. “To our happy family.”

“To a happy family!” toasted Alphys, raising her own glass.

They clinked glasses and drank. It was just water, but it was some of the sweetest water Sans could remember ever having.

Who knew it would be so easy to make Toriel happy? All it took was somebody who wasn’t him.

HERE HAVE ANOTHER BONUS SONG

With apologies to Griffinilla:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XWJUDYCU54Q

Woolly Love

ALPHYS:
Ooo, the hottest thing in the Ruins!
You’re what I’ve been dreaming of, got a case of woolly love!
When we play, we never care who wins!
You’re as peaceful as a dove, got a case of woolly love!

Does she know that I adore her?
Would she think I’m too young for her?
Because I’m still in my twenties
And she’s in her late four thousands—!

(awkward pause)

Maybe she’ll teach me her baking…
I’ll teach her video gaming!
It’s really kind of the same thing…

And later on,
When I couldn’t take any more, she’d
tuck me in and tell me a story—
Oh my god, I’m crushing on Tori!
Oh did I say that out—
No, did I say that out loud?

Ooo, you’re like a bed to my pillow!
You’re what I’ve been dreaming of, got a case of woolly love!
Ooo, you’re like a giant marshmallow
Bursting with integrity! You’ve got so much more than me.

(dance break)

Does she know that I adore her?
Would she think I’m too young for her?
Because I’m still in my twenties
And she’s in her late four thousands!
Maybe she’ll teach me her baking…
I’ll teach her video gaming!
It’s kinda sorta the same thing…

And later on,
When I couldn’t take any more, she’d
tuck me in and tell me a story—
Oh my god, I’m crushing on Tori!

TORIEL:
Alphys, you make me so—
Alphys, you make me so proud!
Yooou used to think you were a sinner!
But it was only SIN-amon!

ALPHYS:
That was such an awful pun.
Toriel, how long have you been standing there?!

TORIEL:
I was crouched behind the chair.

ALPHYS:
Okay, that just isn’t fair.

TORIEL:
Yooou are like dessert after dinner!

ALPHYS:
I’m like putty in your hands!

TORIEL:
What do you think of that, Sans?

SANS:
well, i guess that means that you should shape her.

TORIEL:
…Let us gather for a hug!

ALPHYS:
Got a case of woolly love!

[++++++++++++++++++&&&&&&&&&&&]

Chapter Text

[+]

Scene 30: Knowing That One Day the Mouse May Develop Agricultural Techniques and Be Able to Craft Its Own Cheese… It Fills You with Determination

or

“Pathetic House”

“Suzy!”

“Yes?”

“Suzy Creamcheese, what’s got into you?”

Was this it? Did he somehow know? Or was this just about some random mess she’d made? She didn’t know what to hope for. “What do you mean, Dad?” she replied, trying to be chipper rather than irritated.

Llewyn’s head appeared through the floor crack leading into her cavity. His fingers gripped the edge of the floor; then his tail appeared, wrapped around a folded piece of paper. “I’ve just had a letter from the spider queen. She’s been in touch with the queen-in-exile. Probably a queen thing, keeping in touch. Apparently the queen-in-exile’s had a telephone call from the surface.”

He stared expectantly at her, and despite her sudden fear, she gave him her best wide-eyed face, a mix of innocence and unabashed optimism. “From whom?”

“Are you sure you can’t guess, girl? From the rampaging human! Anything you might happen to know about that?”

So this was it. Suzy had really thought she’d gotten away with it, but no! No rest for the wicked. “A phone call! From past the barrier? That’s never happened before, has it?”

“Not to my knowledge,” said her father gruffly. “The question stands. Anything you might know about it?”

She slipped off her bed and let her tail lie flat over its surface. “Was the phone call about me?” she asked in an innocent voice, inclining her head coyly.

Dad pulled himself up through the crack and took the letter roughly in his hand. “And why, exactly, would it be about you?”

He wasn’t going to let up. Time to bite the bullet and win her dad over with charm. “Because I’ve been talking to them! At night, in our dreams! Dad, I’ve been studying adluminology, you know that, and I worked out a way to slip through the barrier! You know when we dream we send out tendrils from our souls, right? And you know what Aunt Hafgan used to say—‘They’ve yet to invent a wall without cracks!’”

His face was… aghast was the word for it, she thought. Whiskers trembling. “Suzy. Answer me straight. Did the human come to the Underground because of you?”

Suzy knew she was on thin ice, but she had to stay positive. “Yep! It didn’t work out, and I know it didn’t work out, but think of this, Daddy, just think of this—if King Asgore had defeated them, we’d be free now! We’d be talking about moving to the surface, and making peace!”

She saw emotions barreling through him too fast for him to control. Poor daddy! Before he could stop himself, he roared at her in a way no mouse should ever try to roar. “ Suzy Creamcheese! You brought chaos to the Underground—now we have an intemperate empress for a ruler instead of a sober king—and the souls lost, and the kingdom divided—!” But it came out uneven and croaky—her father just wasn’t a shouter.

“But it could have gone so much better!” she replied. “I’m trying to look on the bright side, Daddy. If it had worked, I would have been the liberator of our kind! Well, me and King Asgore. I’ve managed to etch myself into history, and I’m proud of that, Daddy, very proud. I’d be prouder if it had worked, but is it really my fault that it didn’t? If you’d heard that a seventh child had fallen into the Underground, just like the other six, what would your first thought have been? ‘Oh no, I hope it doesn’t kill the king?’ No, you’d probably have been hopeful and on tippytoes, expecting Asgore or the guards to defeat it and claim their seventh soul! No one would have expected it to happen this way!”

“And so you’re proud of the ill you’ve wrought,” nodded her father grimly. “Well, you really are a special girl. Proud of malice. Proud of harm. Are you even grieved by what’s happened, Suzy? Does it even affect you?”

She grew quiet. “It does affect me, Daddy. I was devastated too when I heard what happened. And I was devastated that the people rejected the rightful queen. But people will do what they do, Daddy, and we can only try to do best ourselves. I’ve been trying to keep that in mind. Chin up, pace swift, and all that!”

“And yet thanks to you,” said her father. “Thanks to your… incompetent meddling, your shameless deeds… not only have we lost a good king, but the kingdom lost a great mind.”

“Don’t remind me!” Suzy burst out. Oops—she’d been trying not to shout. Stay positive, Suzy. “I know, Dad. I know. I was broken apart over that too. You know I was. You saw me on the rooftop, crying.”

“She was my friend once.”

“I know she was! But when was the last time you talked to her, Dad? I was talking to her two or three times a week before it all happened, even if I had to make up excuses. I wasn’t really friends with Alphys, but I was more a friend to her than you were in the end! Why didn’t you visit her? Why did you have to abandon her?”

He crinkled the letter threateningly, clenching his fist as if to strike her. “Don’t… don’t you dare talk to me like that, Suzy Creamcheese. You may have dished with Alphys, but you were careless, and now she’s gone! Why didn’t you tell me you were dreaming through the barrier!? ”

Trouble now, but she stood up tall. “I wanted it to be a surprise! And I knew you’d tell me to stop—you would have, wouldn’t you?—and I didn’t want to have to go against your wishes. Think about it… in the long run, it’s a good thing, Daddy! I did it once—I convinced a human child to climb the mountain and come to us, and I could do it again! And if not me, someone else could. I could teach them. We’ve got a way to communicate through the barrier, and we’ve been after that for ages! This is huge, Daddy; please look on the bright side. Please.”

He steamed, standing in place. Then he laid the letter on the chunk of plaster that served as her nightstand and straightened it out, fighting to control his anger. “Well. Daughter. You found a crack no one else knew about, but unlike a good mouse, you told no one about it. And now the monarchy is toppled, and the greatest genius of our time has killed herself. Thanks to you.” He reached in his vest and produced another letter, a scroll tied with a ribbon. “The Underground doesn’t have Alphys to look to anymore. Now it has you.” He flung the scroll into Suzy’s lap. “Congratulations.”

Her father had never spoken to her so coldly. But. Ears quivering, she pulled the ribbon loose and opened the scroll. After a lengthy, frustrating and arduous application process, the Empress has finally made her selection to fill the open post of Royal Scientist. Congratulations, Miss Creamcheese—the job is yours. Please report to…

Oh god oh god oh god, she’d done it!! The whole ridiculous thing on Mettaton’s show had been worth it—it had actually paid off! Suzy felt her tailtip flipping back and forth with excitement. She was only eighteen and the new Royal Scientist—about to fill the position her father had dreamed of, but never gotten—this was insane! The competition must have been really thin. But talent was never spread thin in the Creamcheese family—like Aunt Hafgan used to say.

Suzy dared to stand up and hug her father lightly around the neck, standing on tiptoes to reach. He was more angry at her than he’d maybe ever been, but he must have been proud, too, he must have. “You know,” she murmured, “you could have had it yourself. If I could get the job, I’m sure Undyne would have taken you in a heartbeat.”

“I know,” he rumbled. His hands went to pat her, harsh but sincere. “But I’d rather be forgotten forever than set foot in that laboratory again. Or any lab. I pray—I pray nothing happens to you like happened to W. D. Gaster. I’d keep you here, if I thought I could.”

She kissed him. She couldn’t not when he said something like that. “I’ll be safe.”

“I wish I could trust you, but you weren’t safe with the kingdom, were you?” He pulled away and faced her. What he was feeling? Disbelief? “Most little girls, when they make mistakes, ruin a dress or break a heart… or at worst, get themselves in the family way. But my girl?” He shook his head. “Be careful, Suzy. The kingdom will look to you now.”

In a sense, he was right. They didn’t have the six souls and Asgore’s plan anymore, so they desperately needed somewhere else to look for hope. For some monsters, Undyne and her angry determination were enough. But others knew that it took more than strength to break a magical barrier, more than anger to run a kingdom. A lot of them would be pinning their hopes on the royal scientist. Was Suzy ready for it? “I’ll be careful, Daddy.”

“And you know Muffet will spread the word about your nighttime escapades if you don’t confess. You’ll have to admit to the public what you’ve done.”

Her breath caught. She would, wouldn’t she? Soon, everyone would know the child had come because of her. And once again, the royal scientist would be an object of fear, not just hope. She was going to have to be a living contradiction. “Don’t worry, Daddy. I will. I’ll stand tall and take responsibility.”

“It may be Undyne fires you when she finds out. Be prepared for that, just in case.”

She swallowed. That was true. This was going to be tricky. “I will. Maybe I’ll write to Muffet, and see if she’ll let me settle in before going public.”

“Good thought. But for now, girl, you’d better pack up your things. The Empress wants to see you tomorrow morning.”

Suzy looked at the scroll again. “Oh gosh! She does! I’ve got to get ready. I can’t believe this is really—” Then she stilled herself, a thought striking her. “You’ll be all right on your own, won’t you, Daddy?”

He sighed deeply. “I’ve wanted nothing more than to be alone ever since that terrible day.” The day Gaster died, he meant. Sometimes he called it the day of a thousand fragments. “Yet just the same, I mourned the loss of your mother, and your aunt, and in a quiet sort of way, I’ll mourn your absence too.”

She stepped up and squeezed him tight, wrapping her tail around him. “Oh, Daddy!”

He held her back. “And I still have the Gridleys to keep me company. In case I grow lonely.”

Well, that was the advantage of living in the walls of someone else’s house, wasn’t it? You always have neighbors if you need them. “I’m sure they’ll be very kind to you. And Mrs. Clamydia will keep stopping by to check on you, I’m sure.”

“You’ll write,” he commanded. “Every day, at first, until you’re settled. And you’ll visit when you get a chance.”

“I will,” said Suzy, and meant it. “I won’t forget you, Daddy. I’ll do my very best to bring hope back to this home.”

“Good,” he said. “The monsters need hope. They need it more than I do.”

She bounced on her toes. “Then I’ll look for it until I find it!” She kissed him again. “Thank you for not being too mad. I know you wanted to be. I should put together an overnight bag!”

“I’ll leave you to it,” said her father. “Don’t leave without saying goodbye.”

“Oh, Daddy, I wouldn’t dream of it!”

He went down again, and Suzy was left wondering a hundred things. Was she really the best the Kingdom of Monsters had left when it came to science? Was it all really up to her? When it came to technical solutions, she was barely a fraction of what Alphys had been. She wondered what secrets the old scientist had left behind, but was afraid to look through her things because of the sorrow and guilt she knew it would awaken. Suzy’s hero was dead, in no small part due to Suzy’s foolishness. But was it really foolishness? Or had it just been bad luck? It was really hard to piece those apart—harder than Suzy would ever have expected before the king’s death had made everything fall to pieces.

But Suzy knew guilt wouldn’t fuel the recovery of a people. Guilt might grease the wheels, but it was hard work and hope that would turn them. And that hard work and hope was going to have to come from her heart. Did she have enough in it?

She was going to have to steel herself like she’d never steeled herself before. And that meant facing her fears. So, after she packed her bag tonight, Suzy decided she was going to face the first of those fears head on. She was going to reach out and talk to the human again in her dreams.

And she was going to explain herself.

[~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~]

Chapter Text

[+]

Scene 31: Will the Walls Come Down?

or

“Ruins”

Dear Arachnamate,

I don’t know if you’ll ever forgive me. It’s all right if you don’t. There’s a lot about me that doesn’t bear forgiving. But I thought you’d want to know I was alive. I won’t make you wait for the signature at the bottom—it’s me, Alphys. I’m here in the Ruins! I know they told you I jumped into the waterfall and died, and I know you suffered, and I’m so sorry. But I’m still here! I’m still part of the world, and I’m trying to make things better again. Can you believe it? I’m building things again, and I feel light, and full of wonder, and all it took was giving up everything I had and going to the brink. I gave up everything I had except for myself, and I stood on the brink, and I asked myself—do I really want it to end? Do I really want this to be the last page? And the answer… I’m crying as I write this… the answer was no, Arachnamate. I didn’t it to be over. And that’s because of you, Arachnamate. You saved my life. You showed me love at the end, and because I had that love to think of, I didn’t want it to be over. I knew I wouldn’t have that love again, but just the fact that kind of love was in the world, somewhere, made me not want to leave. If it hadn’t been for you, Arachnamate, I would have killed myself. I’m happy now, and I’m hopeful, and I owe it all to you. Everything from that day to the end, I owe to you.

I hope you’re happy back in the lair. I hope it hasn’t been too hard, being reminded of all the things you can’t do anymore. I hope the other spiders have reminded you of all the ways you’re unique and special. I mean, you’ve got more legs than maybe anyone else in the world! That all by itself is pretty amazing. And you’ve got a really special singing voice… I hope you get to sing for the other spiders sometimes. And I hope they appreciate it.

I’m sorry for keeping you in my lab so long even though I didn’t have any way to help you. I shouldn’t have done it. You were right to call me a coward. If there’d been a cowardice contest, I would have won. I hurt a lot of people and I was too afraid to stop. But when it came down to the last step in the cowardice train… I didn’t jump. I didn’t jump. I’m so happy I didn’t jump, Arachnamate. I’m so happy I’m still here. Thank you. Thank you so much, for everything.

Please don’t tell anyone where I am. If I’m going to rebuild, I have stay on the outside. I’m not strong enough to rejoin the world yet. I’m not sure I ever will be. I’m about to start rebuilding the ancient city where monsters used to live, but before I can start building, I have to tear parts of it down. I need metal to make tools, and I need tools to rebuild! It’s kind of funny, but sometimes you have to tear something down to the bare bones before you can put it back together again. You were made from thousands of spiders who fell down, but got back up again, so I know you’ll understand.

Thank you. Thank you. Forever, thank you.

-Alphys

Up went the paddle, a little at a time. The hooks were holding, but the rope was slipping from one—these hooks weren’t made to be pulleys! Gritting her teeth and holding on with one hand, Alphys reached out and adjusted the rope, jerking it off the hook’s point and into its bend. She grabbed the rope’s end again with both hands and heaved back, her tail pushing against the floor for stability. Up! Pull! The board with the lower hook rose closer to the ceiling, and the paddle rose high enough at last. Trying to keep her breathing under control, Alphys swung the assembly slowly counterclockwise until the paddle was over the lever. She peered, trying to line it up perfectly, and felt burn in her muscles as she tried to stabilize the paddle’s swing. Above the lever handle… center it… center it… there! Now or never! She let go of the rope, watched her makeshift pulley unwind, and saw the huge weighted paddle she’d built smash into the lever, cracking the wall of the ruined tower. The wall crumbled loudly, falling away in massive chunks, and Alphys cavorted and laughed with excitement.

As the dust cleared from the wreckage, Sans was there, hands in pockets, facing her with an amiable grin. How had he—? Alphys gaped at him before deciding it didn’t matter. “Sans! I got the wall down! It’s a big, jumbled, crumbled mess! I’m going to be able to pick it apart for iron and tin, and I can use the stones… you know, you really shouldn’t stand on that side of a falling wall, you c-could have been hurt!”

“i’m pretty good at staying clear. so, all this destruction for a few scraps of metal, huh?”

“W-well, yes! Metal is what I need right now… without metal, I can’t make much of anything else!” Toriel had given her the gold bracer she’d been wearing when she went into exile, but Alphys would be saving that to make non-corrosive electrical contact points. As for iron and tin, the metal fixings around the cornerstones, window frames and sconces were pretty much the only good source in the whole city, aside from the sewage grates, which she’d decided to leave in place. Well, and the spikes. But she wasn’t ready to go messing around with the spike traps just yet.

“it’s all about the metal, huh? so what’s so great about metal?”

“Uh… w-well..” It was nice being asked about technology stuff, even if it was just idle curiosity. Sans only seemed to have two kinds of curiosity—idle and weirdly specific. “It’s m-mainly that metal doesn’t break! You can bend it, or stretch it, o-or flatten it, but you can’t… you can’t break it by mistake! That means you can make metal into pretty much whatever shape you want.”

“must be nice not to be breakable. i think maybe papyrus was like that.”

Alphys winced—was he here to guilt her over Papyrus again? Not that she didn’t deserve it, but she didn’t want that sort of pain right now—she was still excited from her triumph over the wall! “Oh… I guess… I guess maybe he was? I don’t know how well the principles of mineral tenacity ap-pply to monsters..”

“probably not too well. still. something to think about.” He slouched, looking up at a nearby spire. Then he seemed to notice her expression. “oh. sorry, didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. you want any help?”

“Um… well, I suppose maybe I could use a little more muscle power when it comes time to topple the next wall, or m-move a big chunk of stone.” She held her arms self-consciously together at chest level. “I’m… not very strong…”

“you took out a huge wall. maybe you don’t have the biggest muscles, but there’s different kinds of strength.” He stood and flexed a bare, bony arm.

Should she say it? “Um… y-you don’t have any muscles at all,” Alphys pointed out.

“nope. i move through pure magic. which means i’ve got some weaknesses. on the other hand, though.” He stood firmly and concentrated on one of the tower’s remaining walls. A huge white magical bone came hurtling past Alphys, making her shriek, and smashed into the masonry, unsettling it with an echoing rumble. The wall slumped, then collapsed away from Alphys. She watched in amazement.

“being powered by magic has its upsides, too.”

She was in a tizzy for a moment. What was she doing fooling with pulleys and levers, if he could do that? “Uh—you—could you—uh—what—would you—do you think you could help me topple some of these ruins? I-if you have that much power! It’d… it’d make things much easier for me!”

The skeleton shrugged. “i can pitch in a little.”

“Um. Wow! I didn’t… I didn’t realize you were that strong!” She blinked several times. “I’m going to.. I’m going to have to rethink my whole approach!”

“now, if i do that too many times, i’ll get pooped. might have to lie down for a while. could be out stone cold.”

Was that a pun? What was the proper way to respond to a pun? Should she take it seriously, or… dismiss what he said, or… “Um… I guess then I’d have to… have to pull up… some silic-y smooth sheets?”

His eye narrowed slightly on one side, and a crack appeared that wasn’t usually there.

Alphys fretted—that had been wrong. “Um… like… silica? The compound that makes glassy volcanic rocks, um, siliceous? I figured they’re smooth enough to be like… sheets… that you might use to tuck you in… if you, um…”

Sans’s puzzled scowl twisted into a conspiratorial smile. “whoa. you mean that was a pun? i didn’t even realize. nice work, alphys. you got one by me.”

Alphys grinned. Wait. Puns weren’t supposed to be… you weren’t supposed to ‘get them by’ someone. They were supposed to… oh, well. She’d take it! “Heh… so… if you really are willing to help, then, um… well, can I come and get you when I’m ready to take down another wall? Or…”

“yeah, sure.” He was relaxed again as he wandered through the field of stony debris. “but i can hang out a while if you like. thought you might want to know i brought that machine back.”

Alphys suddenly felt like stone herself. “The… the dark light machine?”

“yep. you ok?”

Alphys stopped herself from chattering her teeth. “Um… yeah. I’m okay. I just… I don’t think I’m ready to… jump back in on that. It was… well, I don’t really like remembering that day.”

He walked her way. “hey. that’s okay. forget i mentioned it. i can see you’re busy, anyway.”

“W-well, there’s a lot to do! I left all my equipment behind… I’ve got to start from scratch. And most technology is made from… other technology. Aheh. It’s going to take a long time to build my way back up.”

“you know i can go and haul stuff for you, right?”

Alphys hesitated. She’d thought of that, but… “But what about the next royal scientist? They might already be there, using everything… plus, I listed all my machines in my notes, so they’ll know if anything’s missing…”

He shrugged. “maybe we can reach an arrangement.”

“Wh… what kind of arrangement?”

“word in grillby’s is, your pal suzy is the new royal scientist.”

This struck Alphys like a… well, like a piece of crumbled masonry. Suzy? The new scientist? At her age? “Wow. Really? I s-still think of her as a child.”

“they said she was young, yeah. eighteen, i think.”

“Oh, she must be so nervous. I was nervous when I started!” Alphys had been seventeen when Gaster had hired her, but she’d only been an assistant!

The skeleton winked. “maybe i could offer some help. i could swear her to secrecy and let her know you’re still around.”

Oh no. This is how things would go wrong. “I—I can’t let anyone on the outside know I’m still alive. When I came here, I just wanted to escape…”

“i could size her up first. see if she can keep a secret. i’m good at reading people’s expressions.”

“B-but!” Alphys pled. “What if you get it wrong? What if she tells Undyne?”

“what if? is it really so bad if folks find out you’re here? you weren’t sentenced or anything, right? you’ve got the right to go where you want.”

That was true… and Alphys had to admit she wasn’t sure why the idea of being known to the outside world frightened her so much. Then again, she’d been willing to risk being recognized when she’d gone out in costume. She supposed that meant getting Sans’s forgiveness had been even more important to her than staying hidden.

“Well… I guess Suzy likes me… she wouldn’t probably s-spill my secret. I think she likes keeping secrets.”

“perfect. i’ll pay her a visit, and if she seems okay, i’ll see if she can spare some supplies. maybe you can even do some work for her by proxy. you get the fun of messing with machinery, and she gets the credit.”

Alphys trembled. “I g-guess that could be fun… and it really would take me a long time to rebuild from scratch here…”

“so. what do you need from her?”

“Um! Well, I really wish we had a television so I could show Toriel all my favorite animes! M-maybe you’d like them too? And of course, a welding torch would be great… and some screws, a-and a wiring kit, and an electric drill, and some batteries to get me started… and m-m-maybe the determinometer, so I could continue my project? No, no, she needs that, it’ll be her job now. But… maybe she could make me a new one? Or just send a small sample of DT from the remaining supply… oh, and a multimeter! I could do so many things with a multimeter!”

“heh,” said Sans. “maybe you’d better make me a shopping list. dunno if i’ll remember all that.”

“Um, right! I—I’ll do that. Thanks, Sans… and just be sure you can trust Suzy before you tell her, okay?”

He raised a palm solemnly. “tell you what. i’ll go ahead and judge her. the whole shebang. just to be sure.”

“Oh… okay.” Alphys remembered the eager mouse, always pretending to bump into her randomly in the Core so she had an excuse to ask Alphys’s opinion on her latest scientific interest. Most recently, she’d gotten into interactive dreaming… a topic Alphys knew nothing about and had to fake her way through. But then it occurred to her: “Y-you know, Sans, you never actually told me what your judgment of me was. I mean, you forgave me, and we heard the three bells… but…” She wasn’t even sure she wanted to know, but now she had to ask. “…what did you actually think of me?”

Sans took a step back and grinned a little less cheerfully. That was like frowning, for him. “you sure you want to know?”

Alphys drew back her lower jaw and closed her mouth over it. “Um… no.”

“mm,” observed Sans. “well, i’ll go back to wandering the ruins, then. lemme know if you need another wall taken down.”

He started to walk off, and Alphys knew she wouldn’t be content until she’d heard what he had to say. “W—wait! I… I am sure. T-tell me what you judged.”

Sans turned to face her and his pupils got small. He didn’t talk for a while. Alphys waited patiently and tried not to tremble.

“well,” he began. “you’ve got self-esteem problems. you don’t like thinking of yourself as a good person, or an asset to society. you can pretend to be, but under it all is your private little secret—that you’re actually no good.”

Alphys stood there, one hand held helplessly in the other.

Sans went on. “thing is, you’re not really a rotten vegetable. you’re more like a vegetable with rotten spots. you’re afraid to cut out the rotten spots because you feel like they’re all of you, and you can’t cut your whole self out.” He winked. “or maybe you can.”

Suddenly, Alphys saw herself as a yellow squash riddled with bad spots. “I… I know I’m not all bad. I’m trying to be a better person here! I’m trying to build, instead of hide. T—to love, instead of… well, instead of hiding my love.”

“but you weren’t all bad before, either,” said Sans. “you were just obsessed with seeing the bad parts. you gotta take a step back from all the bad feelings once in a while. have a drink. relax. laugh at yourself, instead of fretting.”

“…I actually feel like I laugh at myself a lot. But it’s a bitter kind of laughter, like… like, ‘Is this all you can manage?’”

“well then. maybe you’d better laugh with yourself, instead of at. and hey… from my perspective, there’s plenty that’s funny about you.”

“…Like my big mouth and my buckteeth, you mean? A-and the silly way I walk?”

“sure. but i mean deeper stuff too. just step back and look at yourself from a distance sometime. you’ll see it.”

She tried to process that. “I—I think it’s kind of funny that it took my l-life being ruined before I could be happy.”

Sans smiled a little wider. “there you go. that’s a great example. and hey. coming here? that was brave. you could really have jumped off the waterfall. you could’ve dusted yourself, for that matter. as escapes go, you can’t do much better than that. but you decided you didn’t really have to escape everything. so you came here, instead. you did good.”

Was he really happy that she was here? “Y-you really don’t mind me staying in the house with you? You know I’d be happy to move out, if you… if you don’t want me there. I understand if you don’t like looking at me, and I know three can be a crowd.”

“you kidding? three’s a party.” Sans winked, his grin huge. “i heard you and tori playing. ‘No, you’re very good!’ ‘No, you!’” He chuckled. Alphys was horrorstricken—he’d done their voices exactly! And… and if he’d heard that, what else had he overheard? “you’ve got a real chemistry with toriel,” he went on. “that’s rare. i should know.”

“I—we—Sans, I—” Alphys hid her face in her hands. “I can’t believe you heard that!”

“maybe i shouldn’t’ve said. but it’s clear tori likes you. and you love her, right? you’ve barely known her two weeks, but you’re already deep in it, aren’t you?”

So embarrassing. “Yes. Yes, I’m crazy for her. I used to feel this way about Undyne… a-and before her, Asgore.”

Sans chuckled. “i actually guessed that once. about asgore, i mean. you used to wear a pin on your labcoat when you met with him. pair of cat ears. and one time you told him, and i quote: ‘i look forward to plumbing the depths of reality with you.’ he thought you just meant science.”

“Oh my god!” said Alphys. “Y-you’ve been watching me for my whole career! And I didn’t even know who you were.”

“that’s just part of being the judge,” said Sans. “but yeah. i spent more time around your lab selling hot dogs than you probably knew. i’m the guy who gave the bad opinion zone its name.”

“Oh! Huh. I did wonder about that!”

“it was based on a long conversation between me and a customer. he thought i had bad opinions, but we decided to agree it was the zone’s fault, not mine.”

“W-were you there just to watch me?” asked Alphys.

“nah. you were one of the more interesting things in hotland, but i just liked keeping an eye on everyplace. i did think i knew you pretty well.”

He did? But… not anymore? “Y… you didn’t think I’d go crazy when a human came to the Underground,” Alphys shamefully surmised.

“yeah, you kinda surprised me on that one.”

“I’m so sorry.” She’d said it before, but she still felt it, so she said it again. “But, anyway, yes. I used to crush on Asgore, too. Heck, I e-even crushed on Mettaton a little, while I was making his body. He didn’t even have his sexy body yet, and I was still hot for him even though I was the one designing it!”

“see? that’s what i mean. you’re a funny person, if you just give yourself some distance.”

Alphys did find it funny, if ruefully so. “But those are just silly dreams,” she said. “Toriel…” She raised her head. “I could actually see myself being with her! It’d be like a dream come true, but… it could happen! I know she likes me. I just… wish I could find some way to impress her.”

Sans gestured to Alphys’s pulley set-up and the collapsed rubble. “you don’t think all this’ll impress her? making machines out of nothing?”

“W-well, maybe if I can rebuild Home, that would impress her!” Alphys admitted. “But that’s going to take a really long time! I wish I had some way to show her how grateful I am… for how she saved me, and took me in…”

“like a gift.”

“Yeah, like a gift!” Alphys hurried over impulsively and clapped her hands on Sans’s shoulders. “You know her better than I do! What would Toriel really like? What kind of gift would really wow her?”

He looked lost for a moment. “uh. anything from the heart?”

“Well, of course I’m going to give her something from the heart!” Alphys exclaimed, standing on tiptoes. “A-anything I give her would have to be from the heart! But what does she really want? Clothing? Books? Time-saving machines?”

Sans looked skeptical. “i think tori’s the kind of monster who likes to just keep living the way she knows how. she’s got plenty of time. i don’t think saving it is a real big priority. but sure, some new jewelry or a book might perk her up.”

“I don’t want to just perk her up! I want to absolutely delight her! I want her to be speechless with happiness, and pick me up, and spin me around…! What would do that, Sans?”

He considered for a while. “seems like you’d have to help someone else. i can’t imagine toriel getting excited like that for her own sake.”

It hit Alphys that he was right. How could Toriel be ecstatic over anything that was just for her? If Alphys could bring back her son from the dead, though… that would do it, wouldn’t it? That would be just the ticket!

…Except that it was really dangerous, and he wouldn’t be the same without a soul, and even if she somehow found a way to get a soul for him, it wouldn’t be his soul, and things would probably go terribly, terribly wrong, and Alphys would lose Toriel. So that was out.

But who else was there to help?

“anyway. i should be moseying on,” said Sans. “i hear the spiders are having a bake sale. nice talking with you, alph—let me know if you need me.”

“R-right.” Not like she had any way of finding him… but that wasn’t her biggest worry right now. “Wait. A bake sale? What are they raising money for?”

“search me. must be something important, though. i hear they have bake sales just about every other week. anyway, nice job with the wall. take care.”

He left. Alphys stood in the wreckage of the two walls, eying the shards of metal she’d been after, but her mind was elsewhere. Llewyn’s daughter, the royal scientist? Suzy might think she could keep Alphys a secret, but could she really? What if Undyne did find out she was here? What would happen? What would the empress do?

Yet the thought of Toriel beside herself with happiness kept creeping back and brightening up her train of thought. …How did other people not crush on everyone they respected? What was attractive if not competence? Well, that and muscles, sure, even if they weren’t Toriel’s forte. And agility. And… good posture? Sometimes Alphys had no idea how the world didn’t constantly go around crushing on itself.

She had to find some way to amaze Toriel with generosity. To make her see that Alphys was as amazing a lover as… as Asgore had been. And… not just to pretend, either! Alphys wanted to really be worthy of Toriel’s love. For the first time, it was starting to feel like a real possibility.

Leaving her hard-won scraps of metal behind, Alphys picked up her feet and ran for the catacombs. She had a bake sale to get to!

[*******************************]

Chapter Text

 [+]

Scene 32: Ghost in the Machines

or

“Life Report”

Don’t think of it as a pile of work, Suzy told herself. Think of it as a playground.

Every mouse likes something to infiltrate, after all. A wall, a leaf pile, a heap of rubble. Something to measure the hours and days by. Something to find the weak points in, break or gnaw apart bit by bit, and wriggle oneself into, so that now the thing is a home , like it or not. It’s a suit of armor. It’s its own tiny world to be explored.

Of course for a professional mouse, this was all a big metaphor. Professional mice infiltrated ideas. They enmeshed themselves in intellectual homes, learning and developing irregardless of whether they had the approval of the bodies of knowledge they dwelt in. Suzy adored that idea. And she was utterly proud to be a professional. She was proud to be a mouse, too, but that was a different kind of pride, since it had happened without her say-so.

The walls of bins and boxes, the notes, the gigantic monitor, the consoles and controls and all the miscellaneous doodads… they were intimidating, but exciting. I’m going to burrow into these and find out what was going on. I’m going to understand it all, and it’ll all be second nature to me, and I’ll carry on where the great Doctor Alphys… chose to stop.

Suzy swallowed. It would be easier to get excited about all this if the specter of Alphys weren’t hanging over everything. Having inadvertently helped bring about her hero’s death would be tough enough, but in her meeting with Empress Undyne, Suzy had been given her first assignment as Royal Scientist: locate the previous Royal Scientist.

But isn’t she dead? Suzy had asked. Not on your life, Undyne had replied. Alphys wouldn’t really kill herself. She’d been given a tip that Alphys was still alive, somewhere, even though she couldn’t say who’d told her or how they knew. All she could tell Suzy was that the former scientist had probably gone down the waterfall into the void, and was planning never to come back. To Suzy, it all sounded like a horrible case of denial, but she couldn’t tell the empress that, could she? So she’d promised to do her best.

And she did intend to do her best, but she fully expected to fail. The suicide note, the tracks by the waterfall, the lizard’s known penchant for visiting the dump—it all pointed to her having taken a plunge. Her jetpack phone had been found abandoned. Numerous monsters attested to her having told them only days before that she’d lost everything—her life was ruined, and she deserved it. Everything indicated that Alphys had killed herself. But even if, somehow, she was still alive at the bottom of the endless waterfall, far out of sight… and even if Suzy could figure out some way to follow that wouldn’t strand her down there… she suspected she still wouldn’t catch sight of the former scientist. If Alphys wanted to be gone, she’d be gone. And even if Suzy somehow got incredibly, unbelievably lucky and managed to find her quarry… what made Undyne think she could convince her to come back?

There was just no way the empress was getting her friend back. She regretted firing her, sure. Suzy understood that. But it was a done deed, and the fish would just have to live with it. In the meantime, it unsettled Suzy. Did this mean Undyne had only hired her with the intention of firing her once Alphys was back? When Suzy failed to produce her, would Undyne be upset? Would she ever let Suzy do anything but search for Alphys? And on top of that, how would she react to finding out it was because of Suzy the human child ever came to Mount Ebott in the first place?

Overall, things did not bode well. And as Suzy wandered the lab to get a feel for it, not bothering for now even to turn on the lights, yet another fear came creeping up. Even if Undyne didn’t fire her for any of the various reasons she might… and even if Suzy was allowed to do work of her own choice… there was still a pallor hanging over all of this. Why hadn’t Alphys told anyone about the Amalgamates? What had led her to bottle up her guilt until it fermented, tainted, exploded—until she came to see herself, against all reason, as worth less than the books and tools that filled her lab?

For that matter, what had led her predecessor, W. D. Gaster, to endanger himself the way her father had described? It seemed that even if he hadn’t shared Alphys’s overt depression, by the end of his time, he too had come to value his own life very little.

Even if Suzy got to keep this job… would the rigors of it affect her the same way? Her self-esteem was bubbling now, but in a few years, would she be depressed about herself and battling thoughts of suicide?

Well, she couldn’t let that happen. That was unnatural. That was terrible. She would not let her father hear that his daughter had decided to kill herself, no matter what happened. Suzy stood on the upper level, looked over the laboratory, and lifted her tail, bolstering her confidence. “I am not going to kill myself,” she promised. “No matter what. Even if I screw up and commit terrible, evil deeds… then I’ll confess. I’ll let the Empress decide my fate. If I’m executed, then I’m executed. If I’m jailed for life, then I’m jailed for life. But I will absolutely never end my own life—on my word as a scientist, that I swear! ”

“good to hear,” said someone from the darkness.

Suzy burst into a panicked backpedal, bouncing off the wall and squealing in shock. “Whatthehell!” she chittered into the darkness. “Whothehell’sthere?”

“eh. don’t mind me,” said the deep, laconic voice. “i’m nothing to worry about.” Below, a pale, round, grinning face lit up in the darkness.

Suzy was hardly reassured. She pressed back against a poster on the wall. “I thought this place was empty! Who are you?”

“just the guy who sells hot dogs down the way. i wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood.”

“Oh my lord you scared me. How did you get in?”

“you left it unlocked. suzy, right? suzy creamcheese?”

“I’m pretty sure I locked the door.” She hadn’t wanted anyone walking in on her, which made it all the worse that someone had.

“not tight enough. don’t worry, i’m sure you’ll get the hang of it. any particular reason you’re worried you might do something evil?”

She’d just had to say that aloud, hadn’t she? Suzy gestured to the whole, imposing lab. This wasn’t even the worst of it—as she understood, the Amalgamates had been kept in a deeper, secret laboratory below this one. “I’m just scared it comes with the territory.”

“heh.” The white-faced figure ambled along toward the up escalator—please don’t come up here, Suzy thought. “you’ll be fine. you seem like a good kid. you are a good kid, right? you’d never do anything to endanger the underground?”