aiko's otter den

red as the blood you didn't shed - Your name, a long time ago, was Frisk. AU.

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10. X

Time passes. You start seeing less and less of everyone. It can’t be helped, and you were never very close to begin with, in your opinion, but the Underground is slowly growing quieter.

Which is fine. Every morning you take a careful jog to warm up. You climb vines, you knit, you read one of the Dreemurr’s books. You cook. You keep busy.

You tinker.

Most of everything has been taken out, but scraps, things from the dump, anything left from above that people forgot, you take from it. No one is going to come and claim it, you think.

Alphys upgraded your phone years ago, the keychain compresses things, including your knife (it’s so cute now, a little rainbow knife but it’s much sharper now too), and you can store more in your phone now. And it has a touch screen and folds. It’s also nigh invulnerable. None of your falls have even given it a scratch thankfully.

Rachel’s gotten a bit taller than you. You’re jealous but you understand. Asriel is finally growing again. He will be terrifying someday.

They’ve stopped fighting. As much. As loudly.

And they’re there to greet you when you reach the edges of New Home. They come once a week with anything useful, anything they can find. It’s the only consistency of time you have now.

They’re glaring at each other. Sans wisely says puberty, Toriel says they’re like cute little siblings. Asgore, more and more often, just watches the three of you with worry.

You know it’s just that they’ve both seen the worst of each other and you’ve seen the worst of them too. Or you did once, you don’t know about now.

Asriel is holding a box. “Yarn,” he announces with a smirk. “For that blanket you said you were working on.”

You smile and take it with thanks.

Rachel doesn’t give you what she’s holding at first, looking you up and down. She looks happier now. At some point, she must have stopped believing this was a dream. “Those clothes we got look good on you.”

“Thanks.” It is nice to have new clothes though.

“You called him cute,” says Asriel accusingly. Some of Flowey’s petulance and jealousy is coming in more and more as he ages, like it grows with his horns or something.

If Chara was here, they’d laugh.

Rachel makes a face. “That isn’t what I said, Asriel what is the matter with you?”

You decide to derail this before it gets going. “How was the telescope?”

Rachel grins, full of the familiar light and intensity that she gives space. “It was amazing, Bam! I could have stayed there all night! There are some pictures in the box. Also we found this little model you can use.”

You beam. “Where are you going next?” Living through them is surprisingly fun because they usually visit more when they’re back.

“Mom wants us to see the sea.” Asriel grumbles. “Again. She says it’s a different one but I think I still have salt in my fur.”

Rachel snorts at this and you can’t mistake it. She’s happy. She’s free. She’s alive. It’s like a great burden’s off of her shoulders, barring a single chip.

You keep your expression happy.

“Will you bring back some seashells?” you ask instead. “And some stones? The shores of Waterfall are starting to sink in, so I want to make proper paths again.”

“I have a bucket for that!” Asriel assures you. He squeezes your knee and you swallow the pain in your throat.

Rachel just nods but she’s looking at you hard, a bit too close if you’re honest. “What about your stuff at Old Home?”

“I’m going to finish moving it all soon,” you assure her. “There’s not much left. Undyne moved most of it. I just need to plant the rest of the plants Miss Toriel gave me in the Ruins with the graves and that’ll be that.”

You’d convinced everyone to let you let the Ruins and the old home slowly go into plants and cave light. You’d buried the remains of the other children there yourselves with their things. They were the tragedies, and time would forget them, but for now they could be honored by being dappled in surface sunlight.

The only things you’d kept were Chara’s and that was because they’d asked you to.

“Hmm…” She looks you up and down again and then says, “It’s summer now, once we’re back from the water we should be around more. Everyone’s going on this one though.”

Except me. You try not to pout. “Rachel, I’m fine.”

“You’re alone,” she said. “That’s not fine.”

“Alphys is working hard to fix this. It’s okay.” Well, every time you tried to cross the way at New Home you stopped breathing but again, it was being looked into. “And you guys have lives now. The humans and monsters aren’t exactly perfect, right?”

“No,” she agrees. “But it still should have been you.”

“But it’s not,” you say before the envy rises in her eyes again, which it does a lot. “It’s you, and from what it sounds like, you’re doing great just by being yourself.”

She makes a face. “I guess.”

“It’s more me being cute than her being smart,” Asriel says to you, self-assured as a prince would be.

The look on her face will haunt your nightmares for days, so you don’t agree with it.

“Rachel, this wouldn’t be happening if you hadn’t agreed,” you point out. “You helped your people and then extended it to the monsters. All I did was start things. You’re doing the real work.”

“… Yeah, I guess.”

You never realized how lowly she thought of herself until after you’d seen her SOUL.

But you hold none of it against her. You can’t. She was your light but she was still a person.

“Oh.” She rummages in the bag. “Toriel insisted on giving you pie and dinner again.”

You take the soup and the pie and laugh. “It’s not snails this time!”

Both Asriel and Rachel shudder.

You laugh again. It feels good to laugh.

You sit with them for a while. Asriel tells you about school and how people try to pet his horns and fail because he’s too fast, how Monster Kid brags about you and your fight with Undyne sometimes when she’s nervous (your heart warms at the thought of her still thinking of you), about how Mettaton is running some sort of show. Rachel tells you about the eclipse she stayed up all night to watch, gives you a SD card full of pictures and files you can look at on your phone. You tell them about what you’ve been finding in the lab, pass them the digitized copies of the videos that had been in the True Lab once, how you’re almost done finally transcribing all the research, including that from someone who seemed to no longer exist.

“W.D. Gaster existed once,” Asriel says eventually. “But that was like, timelines and timelines ago. He was around and then he was gone. At some point no matter what I reset as Flowey, he never came back. But his imprint was still there, like on Sans and Papyrus.”

“He was the one who made the CORE, right?” Rachel asks. She had taken out a notepad and started scratching at it.

Asriel nods. “Think so. I could never reset that far back to know what happened. Only up until I was revived with determination. I remember asking about him though. Sans’ eyes got real blue when Papyrus ever asked him.”

You nod. “I’ve never seen him here, and it’s probably a good thing. But certain places are chillier and the fog makes me feel watched. I think I’ve gotten everything I can from the True Lab though, so when everyone comes with you when you come back, it may be good to go through it and then close the lifts off.”

“Probably,” Asriel agrees. “I don’t wanna ever go in there again if I can help it. I don’t know how you can.”

“It’s better than staring at the ceiling,” you say, but that’s all.

Rachel winces again. You don’t know what she’s thinking.

---

Eventually, they leave. The sky outside from this distance is starting to get dark and even though they all know the worn path by now, it’s better to be safe than sorry. You watch until you can’t see their silhouettes anymore and then say,

“Aren’t you going with them Sans?”

Sans grins at you from the shadows. “You’re getting good, kid.”

“No one stands that still,” you tell him. He thrusts a greasy paper bag at you. You try not to roll your eyes. He’s been trying to get you to like Grillby’s for years. You suck it into your phone with the rest of the items though because you don’t want to be rude.

“Gonna be a while before we get back,” says the skeleton easily. He looks tired. Much as skeletons don’t have bags under their eyes, you think he could. “Wanted you to have something for the road.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you tell him, baffled.

“Well duh, but it’s not like Grillby’s is gonna come to you now is he?” Sans looks smug. “And you like it, you know ya do kid.”

“Not as much as you and his ketchup.”

“Well that bottle’s made just for me, so.”

“Go home, please,” you say, laughing. “I promise I’ll stretch it out as much as I can.”

He huffs at you. “You’re so rude to my old bones.”

You squint at him. Then you exhale. “Sorry I brought up Gaster-ssi.”

“Eh, it’s fine. I figured you’d find somethin’ on him eventually. Thanks for being nice about it.”

“Yes sir,” you say agreeably, and you wait.

Sans slips some ketchup out of his own bag and takes a gulp. Then he says slowly, “You sure you’re fine, kid? It’s not like Toriel didn’t keep to herself for a long time and she’s still workin’ that out. Her and ol’ Fluffybuns.”

You nod. “I was alone before this,” you say easily. It’s so much easier to say now. “Everyone comes and visits and worries and helps out so it’s much better than before. It’ll just be quieter for a bit. Besides, you can just call me if you’re worried.”

He chortles at you. “Guess so. Eat that before it gets cold.”

You smile and nod, but you don’t relax until he’s properly gone and you have Papyrus on the phone to prove it.

Then you hang up and exhale deeply.

You feel the tidal wave of feeling and existence coming and finally, after all this time of holding it together, of watching everyone come and go, of working and working for the sake of the promise, you let yourself break at the edge of the world Chara may have come from. Just for a while. Just because you truly need to breathe. You scream and scream and scream out all of your pain, all of your sorrow, all of the aches in your soul and weep until your throat aches and your voice is hoarse.

Then, slowly, you pick yourself up from the cave floor and trudge inside.

You have a lot of work to do, and not much time to do it in.

---

You finish your work one evening, and get a call from Asgore.

“Howdy, Frisk,” greets the man over the phone.

“Good evening Asgore-ssi,” you say softly in return. He lets out a huff of breath but doesn’t protest. You can’t call them your parents, you’ve never even experienced such things. They don’t make sense to you, even knowing in your head the intimacy of two pairs. “How is the sea?”

“About the same as the last one,” he says cheerfully. “Asriel is having a wonderful time. Not as much as Undyne though. I don’t know how Alphys plans to drag her back to shore.”

You smile. “That’s great.”

“The stars are beautiful too,” he adds gently and you wince because no one can see you. “It’s not as fun without you, Frisk. Maybe next time we’ll set up a picnic near the edge of the cave.”

“That’d be nice,” you say. “Did they tell you I need help with the true lab downstairs?”

“They did, and we’ll be there, the whole lot.” Asgore pauses. “I’m proud of you, child.”

Your chest doesn’t warm. “Thank you sir,” you say instead. “That means a lot.”

“The research is taking too long,” he says gently. “You deserve to see the sky.”

“I can see it from the doorway,” you tell him. “It’s very beautiful. It’s probably different out there.”

“You deserve the breeze, child,” he says gently.

You’ve heard this all before but you agree anyway. You know he’s being kind again. “I can’t wait to feel it.” Then you yawn, quite uncontrolled.

“You must be tired, I’ll let you rest.”

“Give Toriel-ssi my regards,” you say sleepily.

He promises he will and you hear the call end.

You take a deep breath and roll to turn off the light. There’s no point in fretting now.

The next morning, you make sure everything is neatly tucked away in its place. You’ve hung the pictures from the other day in New Home, varying non-perishables you don’t want to risk bringing left on the shelves. The dishes are washed. Everything’s clean. You lock up the garden to New Home carefully and leave the keys where you’d found them once years ago. Your phone is charged in your pocket and everything you need for it in your other pocket. Everything else is in the box.

You begin the journey back to where it all began.

It takes a few hours, but you’ve practiced for this, carefully jogging, testing your stamina, pushing your limits. You make sure to stop in Waterfall, where it’s cooler, after raiding what’s left of Hotland one last time. You stop and look at the Echo Flowers. You’ve left memos for yourself at these before. You can do something similar now.

“Thank you,” is all you say to the flowers. They echo your words back in warbles. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”

And then you keep walking. You have a warmer coat this time, but you put a spare into your phone.

You make sure the remains of Sans’ and Papyrus’ home is locked up tight like Undyne’s was. The ball game is still in place but you ignore it this time.

You keep walking.

You can see your breath.

Finally, you reach Old Home.

It’s easy to travel the rest of the way through. Your limbs are longer and you are stronger. But now you reach the graves, and the hole that leads to the only home you’d known before. You grit your teeth but first you bow to the graves. “Soon,” you promise, and taking the rope that’d been tied to something above, you begin to climb. You’ve tested the weight repeatedly, and now you pull yourself up into the gloom. It’s dark compared to a lot of the places you’ve been but you’re named for the night. You like the dark sometimes. You keep walking, trusting your hands, your feet, your heart.

You reach the light again soon, the weak little filter of light up above where rock is in the way. Your tower is still standing strong. There’s another rope just near it, though Rachel had never needed one.

You regard it for a moment, regard the symbol of the three eyes on one wall. You take your phone, snap a picture of it, and keep walking. The path changes. It narrows, too big for you alone, but it narrows.

It seems like you will never reach the end.

You take another deep breath. You let it out loudly.

Seeing the unknown once again, with nothing and no one but you to meet it this time, you are filled with determination.

The world shifts for just a moment under your hands. Then before your eyes, great doors that dwarf the world appear before you.

You set your shoulders.

“I’m coming, Chara,” you say, and walk into them, pushing them open.

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