AN: My first attempt to upload this went horribly. Hopefully this'll be better.

EDIT: Seems a lot of people are confused, so TL;DR on the things you might want to know before heading in (that I can't tell you in the tags because FFnet doesn't do tags): I love the Chara-as-Narrator theory (that all the text in the game is Chara talking to Frisk, not just the Genocide run) and firmly believe that there's more to Chara than a murderous demon child (especially considering that they are, you know, a child.) The background context for this fic is that Chara and Frisk grew both friendlier and more dependent on each other throughout the game and Chara is now a bit of a backseat driver who's a bit messed up in more ways than one but isn't actually a bad person, or even particularly unpleasant.

The 'you' in this chapter is Chara.

Feel free to let me know if it's still confusing so I can fix it.

For some reason Frisk is entirely oblivious - or willfully ignorant - to the glory that is chocolate milk. None of your many attempts to convert them has succeeded so far, but you solemnly refuse to give up. As long as they're soft enough to make Toriel buy it for them anyways just so you'll be able to drink it from time to time there's still hope. This is one battle you will definitely win.

You're right in the middle of one such attempt to make them see the light when there's a wrenching feeling in your chest and you're torn away, Toriel's kitchen flickering into nothingness only to be replaced by… Toriel's kitchen. Toriel and Asgore's kitchen.

You're perched on one of the chairs, sitting much straighter than Frisk ever does, surrounded by your family. Asgore and Toriel are smiling at each other, and Asriel - Asriel is smiling at you. Oh. A dream, then.

The dreams you have of Home are simultaneously the best and the worst dreams you ever have. On some days it just hurts, being reminded of what you've lost, what you'll never have again, but on others… it's nice. To be back. Even if it's only imaginary.

You always wake up feeling strange and lost, and Frisk has learnt to recognise the feeling well enough not to ask you when you're quiet all morning.

For now, though, you resolve to make the most of it. You sit through the dinner, not talking much, but soaking up the atmosphere, the feeling. It's nice to see Asgore and Toriel get along so well. And Asriel…

As much as it hurts, it's nice to see Asriel. Full stop.

When dinner is finished and your parents have started to clean up, Asriel grabs your hand and starts pulling you away from the table, but he stops when you dig your heels in and don't move.

"Toriel?" you say, realising belatedly that this is a dream, she won't mind if you call her 'mom'.

"Yes, my child?"

"...could you read to us?" It is, in a sense, a silly thing to waste a dream for. You should go with Asriel, play with him, since you can't do that for real anymore, but. You've missed this. You've missed them talking to you .

"Would you not rather play outside until it is bedtime?"

"Not really," you say.

"Traitor," Asriel mutters, but his grip of your hand is still warm and steady, so you step on his foot in retaliation.

"Chara," Toriel admonishes. You try to look repentant. Probably you don't do it very well. "What would you like to hear?"

You prod Asriel towards the bookshelf. "You pick."

He takes approximately three seconds to pull a book out and shove it into Toriel's hands. She gives it a sceptical glance. You snort when you see the title.

"Again, 'Ree? Really?" you tease. He rolls his eyes at you.

"You like it just as much as I do, Chara."

He has a point.

You're still going to tease him about it.

You pull him down to the floor in front of her chair, scuttling closer to the fire which crackles and warms but does not burn. He pushes close to you and you lean against him.

Toriel isn't even trying to hide her smile. "Well, if you are both certain…"

She opens the book and begins reading. You let yourself drift.

When Asgore comes back you're halfway asleep, draped across Asriel. His arm is wrapped around your shoulders. It's nice.

"It grieves me to interrupt you," Asgore says, "But I find myself in need of company. It has been very lonely ever since my wife cruelly abandoned me to the dangers of clean-up duty."

Toriel muffles a laugh. "Oh, come here, you," she says with a warm smile, and pulls Asgore in to nuzzle his nose.

"Moooom," Asriel whines, covering his eyes with his paws. You hide your smile behind your palms.

"Hush, son," Asgore says. "A master must hone his craft!"

It startles a giggle out of you, immediately followed by a yawn.

"Sounds like it's off to bed with you two," Toriel says. Asriel mumbles a few token protests but he follows you up from the floor.

Before you leave you seize the chance to wrap your arms around Toriel. "Thanks, mom," you tell her, squeezing her tightly.

"Anytime, my child," she says, gentle as always, but when you pull away she looks baffled, which really strikes you as quite unfair. She never looks surprised when Frisk hugs her. Or calls her mom - well, not after that first time, at least.

Asgore picks Asriel up, cradling him in one arm. He reaches the other out to you. Had this been real you would've just taken his hand, but now you grab it, scramble up to cling to him just like Asriel, smiling when his chest rumbles with his laugh.

He tucks you both into bed, pulling the blankets up around you and ruffling your hair before he turns out the light bids you goodnight. You hear Asriel twisting and turning on the other side of the room.

You want to cross the room to his bed, your heart is aching with the need to be close to him, but you don't want to push your luck. Maybe if you try to squeeze out more happiness than you've already been given the dream will crack or morph into a nightmare. You have enough of those without courting them.

So instead you try to make yourself comfortable, burritoing yourself with the blankets, try to hold this feeling in your heart, so you can remember it when you wake up. Maybe then it won't hurt as much.

"Goodnight, Chara," Asriel whispers. You're silent a moment before answering, because it feels like this is it, this is the signal to call you back to the real world again, and you don't really want to go. You want to stay.

"...goodnight, Asriel," you tell him, turn over so you can't see him anymore, and try to sleep.

You wake up still feeling more content than lost. Good. A quick squint reveals the room is bright. Probably you should get out of bed.

But the blanket is soft and you are so warm and comfortable. Getting up now would be a crime , so instead, you burrow in deeper under the blankets, and push your face into the pillow, stifling a yawn.

Wait.

You frown, hands twitching, and twist your fingers into the sheets. Your body obediently follows suit, copying your movements with no noticeable delay.

What?

Frisk? you think, thoughts still a bit sluggish from how sleepy you are. You awake?

The lack of response pushes you quite a bit further from sleep mode.

This is… strange. It's not like it's been long since you were in control of the body - you and Frisk tend to switch it up pretty regularly these days - but in general it's sort of… theirs by default? It has to be a deliberate change: you taking control, or Frisk giving it up.

It's been a long time since you last took control.

You've never woken up having their body before.

You hear heavy footsteps approaching the room, and suddenly you're wide awake.

Frisk? C'mon, wake up. Toriel's here to get you, come on, Frisk - but there's no reply, and the footsteps keep getting closer.

In a fit of desperation, you try to relinquish control again, let go off their body and let your consciousness go back to sleeping, or floating in that strange mindspace of almost-real you're always in when Frisk has control, but-

-you can't do it. No matter how much you squeeze your eyes shut and try to will yourself away you don't go anywhere, because there's nowhere to go, there's- there's no one to give control back to .

You can't breathe. Frisk isn't responding and you can't breathe. The air is too heavy in your lungs, and they're your lungs now, and god, how long has it been since you had nowhere to run, since there's been no one to snap you out of it? You can't leave the body. You can't leave.

The door creaks open and you cover up a flinch, try to relax your shoulders and breathe normally again. We're sleeping , you think, wishing with every inch of your being that Toriel will just go without waking you up. Shit, today isn't a school day, right? Maybe you can pretend to be ill and she'll just let you stay in bed all day, no social interaction necessary. You need time, you need to figure out what's going on, you need to get Frisk back before anyone notices they're gone. We're sleeping, let us keep sleeping just a little while longer, please.

Inhale. Exhale. Everything will be okay.

"Awww, really? You're still sleeping?" comes the voice from the door as its owner bounds across the room. You freeze, breath catching in your throat again as your eyes fly wide open. What.

The bed dips down behind you and your body rolls over onto its back until you're staring at him, feeling too much to put into words. Your mind blanks out completely.

"C' mon , Chara, it's time to get up," he says, and your body croaks out a response almost entirely without your permission, you can't stop it, just as you can't stop your heart from beating ridiculously fast in your chest.

"Asriel?"