A/N: I want to say that uh.. I was captured by an intense writers block and it was hard to write without it feeling forced and uneven (which is probably how this chapter feels like but yolo) But I will be updating this story more often, especially since there's quite a few of you that love this story (which is what fuels me to pump out more chapters.)

But oh god I haven't updated in a while. Jeez, I thought it was like a month or so that I posted the last chapter but nooope, it was three. sorry :/

Needless to say, it's... been a while since I worked on this story, and there's a possibility that most of the people who follow this story think it's long past dead, but hey, that's life... that's what all the people say...

You're ridin' high in April...
Shot down in May...
But I know I'm gonna chaaaaange that June...~

I still have fingers, so I'll write until I lose them okay? good.

Frisk knows what happened. She was there. She felt it all just as Chara did. The tight, unmoving grip they had on the knife, the smooth, cool touch of metal that was soon warmed by her hands. The way flesh turned to dust with a simple plunge of a knife, fizzing away like petals in the wind. The caked feeling of dust between her fingers, on her sweater, pants and in her hair. The grittiness of fabric against the powder, the unnatural way that they walked; infected with LOVE. The twitching. So much twitching.

The fighting. The way people fell like weeds to a single child.

The way she felt satisfied, in a horrible, morbid sense.

The numbness that came with power. LOVE. The sort of invincibility that raised her ATK and DEF. She could stab herself right then and there with a magic attack and she'd feel nothing. She feels nothing. That lust for more power... for more strength. The fear. The Hate. The anger.

Frisk stops herself in her tracks; halting Chara in the process. Chara is barely there; lost in a sort of daze. It's there that they realize they haven't eaten. They haven't slept. They haven't even had a drop of water to drink. Blood and dust leave a sickly trail in the caves of Waterfall. So they get something to eat. Monsters run with their children. They don't run for much longer.

They sit down for the first time in days, strained muscles finally finding some sort of reprieve as they drink the sea tea in silence. They hear monsters running and get up to make everything silent again. Once they get back to drink the rest of the now cold tea, it's there that they realize they only taste dust.

She felt Chara, who was in control alongside her. The rage, indignation of the world, being forced to rip off the rose-tinted glasses and to see monsterkind how it truly was. A dying, desperate race ready to do anything to keep existing.

The laughter. Uncontrollable laughter. Every death made her laugh some more. Every wound was a giggle.

The only semblance of emotion on their blank slate of a face was that of a murderous pervert.

They stopped once, she recalls, to see their reflection in the water.

*its.. it's still us.* Chara muttered. Any moral sanity was barely there. Lost. Thoughts were harder to make than anything; only echoes of killing and more killing.

Sans watches them from the distance. They both know he's watching.

There's many times where the LV wears off, just a little. Where the poison ebbs away to reveal two very hurt children. When that happens, all they feel is pain. Both of them; unimaginable and excruciating, every nerve on fire as they shake in cold sweat, trying to find someone else to end for the LV to kick in again.

She doesn't care about them much anymore. Like they never cared about her.

She lets Chara have most of the control, staying back and watching. observing. Seeing how they react to losing everything just as she had. GIving their all for something that would be pointless at the end. Risking their lives for the people they love. Sacrificing everything for more time, going through pain and tears. And for what? they died anyway.

She felt bad, of course she did! but everything could just be reset. Yes... everything didn't matter if it could just be rewound with the literal press of a button.

So she watches, and keeps watching. She plays the part in some, other times she just stays numb.

Chara was angry, feral in a sense. Her pride and loyalty was something Frisk couldn't imagine herself having at most. Not anymore. While Frisk was more of a neutral person, Chara was obviously very decided in what she wanted and needed. She sees Flowey pop up at times and grows angry. She remembers what happened; the deaths she went through, the hurt he put her through.

Frisk sees Sans; his hurt and restrained fury that lay behind those casual eyes. She smiles to herself, just a little. Chara smiles too. He takes a shortcut and leaves.

Toriel dies. She... regrets it.

Papyrus dies. She doesn't like it.

Undyne dies. She doesn't mind.

Mettaton dies. She's...happy.

Flowey still grovels for attention. For survival. He was so two-faced. But then Flowey realizes something. They'd kill him in cold blood if they needed to.

He flees, but she'll catch him soon.

Then Sans.

Sans is hell.

She fights and fights and fights and fights and

hurthurthurthurthurthurthurt

painpainpainpainpainpain-

Death.

So much death.

She wakes up in the same spot near the door. Chara is shaking and frozen before both of them get up again. The room is blurry and they can practically see all the bloodstains in the room that never happened yet. Dust. They breathe some in by accident and it smells like butterscotch pie. They retch.

Then death.

Chara needs help. Frisk helps.

They kill him. Bones pop and slice under the knife, she hears him wheeze huskily and shake for just a moment when she sees blood- no.. ketchup- it's ketchup.. She watches in grim satisfaction as Chara looks incredulous, as if in disbelief that they finally did it. He leaves to dust in peace in his brother's room.

Then comes Asgore. She feels rage. She kills him easily. He didn't fight back; he had nothing to fight for. She sees him watering the flowers, but there's so many sprinklers that she knew he never needed to water them in the first place. He smiles as he dusts.

Then Flowey.

She blacks out. She cuts and tears and stabs until his disgusting face is a pulpy mulch at her feet. She steps on his remains and lets them smear across the floor before she's satisfied.

She goes further in.

Further.

Further.

And everything is black.

She ends everything.

But Chara brings it back.

And she can't stop crying.

Everything hurts.

Frisk had woken up to see Chara already awake and eating some beef ramen.

"Did... Did I miss anything?"

"No, nothing much. You just missed a lot of bad cooking and some taste-testings from hell. Blech. But hey, at least there's ramen. Yours is on the table."

"Ooh thanks!"

Frisk picked up the... chicken ramen.

"How did you know this is my favorite?"

"I dunno, didn't you tell me?"

"No... I never did."

"That's weird."

The thought lingered in an odd pause, but they both resumed eating regardless. Chara was more voracious though; by the time she was done with the ramen she had another one prepared.

"Hungry, aren'tcha'?" Said Undyne as she sat on the opposite end of the couch, apparently after having a very intense conversation on which battle cry is the coolest. Alphys tried as she could to explain what "Nya" actually meant, but Undyne just wasn't having it.

"Mhm." Chara finished taking a long sip of the broth before responding. "It's very... uh... meaty."

"Eh, the pasta was going to be even cooler, but Mettaton stopped us before we set the house on fire. What a wuss. I don't even know what we did wrong this time! right Papyrus?"

"R-RIGHT UNDYNE!" Said Papyrus as he doused the flame. He came back out with tomato... everywhere. He took a moment to flick some of the pulp out of his eyesocket while Undyne picked out a glob of seeds from her gills.

"U-Undyne... I d-dont think that pasta is supposed to start... g-growling..."

Undyne's fins flared up in shock just a tad as she smiled back at them sheepishly. "I'll uh.. take care of that real quick. You scrubs get comfortable, y'hear?"

"Gotcha."

"Crystal"

Alphys was going to say something, but decided to head over to the action instead.

"I don't even want to know what's happening in there."

"It's better if you don't; I don't even think there's a kitchen in here."

"Ew. And how the heck can pasta growl?"

"Everything is magic, Frisko."

"I miss real food."

"I miss real beef, but it be like that sometimes."

Frisk sighed. Things were going really smoothy for once; after all this time of hectic frenzies and moving around... it was nice to sit down and simply think.

Chara was satisfied after eating her fill of ramen and sat down beside Frisk, sidling up to her gently. "What are we going to do in the surface..?"

"No idea. We'll need to go to a school, or maybe Toriel can teach us at home. We'd have our rooms and find out what to do with Asriel, then we'd just... live."

"I prefer getting taught by Toriel... but.. The thought of just being in the sun again is nice. How many years have passed..?"

"Do you remember what year it was when you fell?"

"No idea."

"Well, you'll be in for a treat."

Toriel is a simple woman. She doesn't mind little interruptions in her daily life, oh no. She's the first one to welcome change in her household. Seeing the monsters come into the Ruins after they'd been closed for so long, and greeting her subjects not as a queen, but as a fellow citizen had given her life a newfound passion. Her things weren't fully packed; perhaps because she didn't want to bring her furnishings, knowing the sadness that was involved with them. This was the fresh start she craved. Like a flame, burning everything for life to come soon after, she would do the same for her future on the surface.

And yet, she feels like this feeling is familiar. Like she had done this before. A silly thought, but it had lingered regardless. Bah, never leave an old woman to ponder, lest she'd lose her mind. Instead, she busied herself putting her plants and her few sentimental items in a separate space in her room.

She eyed the single buttercup on her bookshelf. One she tried so hard to keep from seeing, for the sight of its sickly yellow petals would remind her of her failures as a mother. But now, she eyes the harmless little flower and thinks almost nothing of it. The old wounds have left her with scars, but even those deep cuts have healed and faded. It was time to let go. She grabs the pot holding the buttercup gently, and heads over to the old tree in her courtyard. Then, she patiently digs a small hole, frees the bloom from it's pot and plants it alongside the old and twisted oak.

This tree was special, once upon a time. The trees above the mountain had dropped a single seed; one that had somehow made it past the barrier. Was it fate? Did one of the children drop it as they fell down? It didn't matter for her regardless, because that tree was a hope. A hope that life could still be beautiful in the underground.

The tree had grown, almost as old as she had been. Yet.. now it wasn't a hope, but an old friend that shared a similar kind of suffering. It's once red leaves all fallen down and scattered into piles, where monsters had saved them as a reminder of how they used to be. She touches the gnarled bark with a sort of gratitude for anchoring her when she needed a hope to hang onto.

Every time this tree grew some new leaves, they all fell down; but now it was different. Tiny buds grew on the tree, showing a new beginning. A small reminder that hope was not lost. It seemed as though the oak tree always wanted to teach her something. She smiled to herself. Somehow this dark little room had gotten just a bit of sunlight in.

Toriel broke out of her wistful memories, gazing at the single bloom held dearly in the massive roots of the tree. The flower that grew after Chara died. The one seed cupped within small, thin, blistered hands as she begged her mother to grow one more flower, just for her.

She remembers what she talked about with Dreemurr.

"Tori, I-"

"No more nicknames, Dreemurr. I can't." She barked. He looked up from his tea sadly but continued with his point.

"Ah.. I see. I just thought that maybe.. We could move on, is all. J-Just hear me out!"

"I'm listening, Asgore."

"Well... I know that what I did was inexcusable- horrible, dreadful and-" "Yes, I get it." "But there's something that you and me still have in common after all these years."

"Oh? and that is?"

"We are still both victims of circumstance, and we both want to have a new start."

She stopped her tea mid-drink. A sudden weight in already tense-room had grown, just a bit. This was more than enough to give two children time to sneak past the door. Asgore continued.

"It's not... entirely your fault either, Asgore. I.. we were both so much younger. You needed to be there when the kingdom had just lost it's two heirs, and I had left after. We were angry, but I didn't have the patience to try and help you. I didn't notice how much you were hurting and for that, I am sorry."

Asgore looked up at her with a tad of shock but smiled thinly. Toriel forgot that smile, once upon a time.

"I am sorry too, Toriel. I could've done something much better than what we did but... I was just so furious. I felt like I lost everything, but it's now that we've truly lost. The anger in me has all but stayed; but the resolve had stuck with monsterkind."

"It was a lot of things and bad decisions in a desperate time, and nobody was ready to handle it either. But what's the point with speculating about all of this now?" She said rather grimly.

"I want to change. I.. I've missed you all this time Toriel. I missed everything about you. The way you made me feel secure. The feeling of having someone there. I never knew how much I needed you until you were finally... gone." His eyes water and he dries his tears with the extra-large tissues.

"I know you wouldn't feel the same, but I" "No... I've missed you too, Gorey. If anything, I've missed being friends. Talking about anything, laughing and gardening. All of those little moments felt so empty without you there." She cries too.

They talk about a lot of things after that. Everything they've thought about telling each other. Little things, big events. They aren't King and Queen, but Asgore and Toriel.

But they feel... hope.

Asgore had left through the balcony's steps, and she was planning on writing him a letter once they had gotten settled.

Just when Toriel was about to leave, when three concerned monsters ran up to her holding two, very familiar children in a very familiar situation.

Her breath hitched when she saw the same, faded shade of green with yellow stripes.

Chara jolted suddenly. A sharp pain panged in her chest in her seat. it's so dark, why is it dark? Oh my god I'm blind again they finally did it I'm gonna die-

She was to the point of hyperventilation until she saw the sleeping figure on the opposite bed beside her. She looks around the room and eyes the bed, not knowing why she was here or how they got there. Was it a dream? No.. it felt too real. The bookshelf filled with different recipes that Chara loved trying to make. The toybox that Asriel was so obsessed with. The drawings. The walls painted in the same shade of red.

This was is her room.

She tastes the buttercups on her tongue and swallows thickly; trying and failing on keeping her composure.

Phantom pains laced her body; every thought of the battles they faced, the fights and injuries she sustained made everything hurt. It was growing hard to breathe and panic struck her- she couldn't let them see her like this. She heaved, wheezing for breath but coming short every time. What was this?! Was she finally dying? Memories of a dusty sweater and the wails of her mother rushed back, and a crushing, teeth grinding force pushed on her chest. Frisk tosses and turns in her bed too.

Quickly, she checked her stats, unsurprised to find Frisk's stats come into view as well. What she didn't expect though, was what she would see.

Chara] [Frisk

HP-0.1/99 HP- 0.1/99

LV- ?] [LV-?

Things didn't change. Their HP was that of someone with 20 LV. Something that could only be achieved with the genocide of every monster not including the king and Flowey. Resetting didn't fix her stats. She's screwed. She can't breathe she can't see she can't hear this is worse than death- She gripped her chest, hearing her barely functional heart beating a mile a minute, cold sweat ran down her forehead and she knew- She wasn't safe anymore.

KILLERKILLERKILLERKILLER

When did she take so much damage, and why did she take HP from Frisk? Well, it didn't matter right now; she needed to heal both of them, if they could heal from this, that is.

MURDERMURDERMURDER
She vaguely remembered what the River Person told her; the cryptic idea made sense in the moment while she dug out her pockets to try and find the mushrooms. She opened the bag and chewed a small piece, then relaxed as the pain ebbed away.

It took a few minutes for her senses to come back.

Her sight was barely there, showing only faint outlines of her surroundings until they became a bit clearer in the dark bedroom. Hearing gradually coming back for her to be met with the soft sound of Frisk's breathing. Smells were faintly smelling of (normal) dust and butterscotch pie. Touch came back painstakingly slowly until she realized that she was clutching onto the carpet flooring. When she fell on the floor, she didn't know either.

Pain-sensors snapped back into function, along with several pangs and dull aches.

Taste was the last to come back, and she realized the earthy taste of the mushrooms on her tongue; she was alive. She was here. She didn't want to be, but she's alive. She took a deep breath of air into her barely-living lungs, unaware of how much time she had spent on the carpeting.

She grabbed her cane with a shaky hand, stumbling like a fawn until she could stand, leaning heavily on the bookshelf until she got up and back on the bed. The mushrooms… what was in those things? Her chest was still tight and heavy, hands trembling and paler than ever.

She checked her SOUL again. A bright red glow filled the room, making her cover it with the blanket.

[Chara] [Frisk]

HP-20/20 HP- 20/20

[LV- 1] [LV-1]

Man, their stats were fucked. Why was their HP like this anyway? And how did those mushrooms fix it?

"So, let me get this straight. You say that both of these children fell asleep to the point of unconsciousness, made them sleepover without my full consent, and didn't tell me about this other child falling down?" She eyed the two children in their beds, finding a strange compulsion to put the other one where.. Chara used to sleep. It couldn't be. That couldn't be Chara, and yet she looks over to see the same rosy cheeks, green and yellow sweater and short brown pants with leggings. The same exact clothes she was buried with. The clothes she never wanted to let go. All that was left was the eyes. Please be red please be red please be red-

"W-well, in our defense your majesty, w-we d-didn't really know what happened. They just started getting really… s-sick l-looking…"

"And What the heck? I thought Frisk had asked you first if it was okay!" Undyne's brazen voice snapped her out of it.

"Y-yeah! It wasn't our intention your m-majesty! Honest! We j-just had a f-feeling that once Frisk left the underground, she wouldn't have a lot of time for h-hanging o-out.."

"YES! ESPECIALLY CONSIDERING THE FACT THAT SHE IS GOING TO BE AMBASSADOR!" Papyrus' face soon turned confused, then slightly teary. Alphys looked back to see Papyrus with an equally confused expression. "B-but Papyrus, you're going to be ambassador, not Frisk."

"O-OH. RIGHT. I SEEM TO HAVE FORGOTTEN. I… DO NOT REALLY GET WHY IM GETTING ALL SAD THOUGH…"

Toriel straightened herself and eyed the three critically. "You must still report to me, regardless of what Frisk tells you. You should know by now that they have quite the mischievous streak at times, and lying to have a sleepover isn't so hard to imagine of them.

"Them? But we're just talking about Frisk, aren't we? Do you know Rei too, your majesty?"

"..Rei?" She looked at the child once more. Thin, frail, but with a certain look about her that screamed "CHARA". She could almost see the locket poking under her shirt.

"Ah, I see now. Well, I mustn't hold you guys here much longer! I think you should all go. We have a lot to do underground, now that we're moving to the surface, right?"

"B-but your m-majesty-"

"Leave."

"AH SURE- Cmon Alphys- BYE YOUR MAJESTY THANKS YOU'RE SO KIND-"

And with that, a fish ran off carrying a frantic lizard and a gangly set of bones upon seeing the universal threat of fire.

Toriel sighed, ebbing the flames to nothing more than a small warmth in the air. She still doubted that she was seeing Chara. Was it really Chara? Her little angel?

She crept closer, careful not to disturb either of the children as they were both shockingly light sleepers. She hoped that both Chara and Frisk alike would grow to feel safe enough to sleep without awaiting interruptions.

Ah, here she was, still believing that by some unknown reason, Chara was here in this very bedroom. But yet… the feeling stood there, like that of a mother that sees her child after so long. She wished, prayed and hoped that Chara was really right there, sleeping soundly in that bed. The last time she had seen Chara like this, sleeping so soundly, it was the last time she would see her again.

Tears rolled down familiar grooves in her fur. A scar had been pulled open. A hole in her heart hoping to be filled again, but still doubting that Chara was alive. She was dead. Toriel had buried her in the garden alongside Asgore.

Wait.

She hasn't checked the garden after her talk with Asgore, now has she?

She gets a glimmer of hope, and dashes past the happy monsters, ruin dwellers and newcomers alike until she reaches the fated garden. Where everything started and ended at the same time.

And there's a hole dug out about the size of a child. Flowers give way and the hole comes from a wooden coffin. Frantic claw marks are etched into the dry soil, and a small glimmer of thought reminds her that she hadn't watered the flowers since yesterday. She sees the bare hint of wood in the bottom of the grave, stripped of it's grey paint and eaten away by bugs.

Her face turns devoid of color, she doesn't even dare to let out a single breath at the thought that 'this must be a dream.' Because this wasn't the first time she dreamt of this very scenario. Where she wished and prayed and hoped with all her might that time could be rewound. Where she wished that both Chara and Asriel could be safe in her arms, just a little bit more.

This is the only time where she hasn't woken up.

Moments pass, but they feel like lifetimes to her. Centuries of hurt, guilt, and repressed emotions flooding back again to her scarred heart.

She laughs at first, in pure, agonizing denial.

A giggle.

A chuckle.

A laugh.

A hiccup.

A sob.

She gazes at the mountain's maw, her wide fanged smile turning into a frown.

Then she cries, rushing back to hug Chara, her baby, her long lost child. She opens the front door by kicking it open, but she opens the bedroom door softly.

To see a pair of red eyes staring back at her with tears.

"M-mom…" Chara stares, shaky and scared. They've been dead. She died and killed Asriel too. Everything was her fault.

Toriel must be angry, she might have been waiting so long to tell them how horrible they are. She doesn't move, like a deer in the headlights.

She's caught.

But then she sees Toriel's expression, filled with tears as the two stare each other down.

A mother who lost both of her children in one night.

A child who said goodbye to everything she's ever loved.

But she forces herself to speak, croaking out two words she always wished to say.

"I'm sorry." The two say in unison. Both of them bristle, as if shocked to hear the words come out from the other.

"I-I messed up real b-bad.. and I killed A-Azzy. I.. I waited so long to say sorry but I... I-" She strains her voice until the last word comes out as a broken croak. Throat so tight that she doubted she could even take another breath. She cries but wipes the tears away.

"Chara.. It isn't your fault."

She hiccups and sobs, covering her face with her sweater. Eyes so blurred with tears that they barely seemed there.

"i-it is! I made him do the stupid plan. I went into the b.. butterc-cups and I wanted to-"

I wanted to kill them all.

I could have saved him once the first arrows hit.

I could have run away.

But I didn't, mom.

I'm sorry for everything.

I wish I was dead.

Don't hate me too.

Toriel can't hold back anymore; she rushed over and hugs her child, squeezes them and peppers her with kisses like it's the last time they'll see each other. For all she knew, it probably was. She hugs Chara tightly in her arms so she'll never let go like before, murmuring apologies and consoling whispers. Chara's eyes are wide and glassy, thin body shaking like a leaf as she does nothing except hold on tightly. The things she had done. The things she had seen, all coming back to her like knives digging into her soul, weighing her down.

She doesn't deserve this!

But a selfish part of her is happy, screaming out for the world to hear at finally being home.

They don't let go for half an hour.

She grips onto the familiar textiles on the robes, the tiny flecks of fur strewn along the stitchwork. The familiar scent of buttercup pollen is sickly sweet, but she only tastes the metallic taste of blood and bile, the awful feeling of blisters everywhere. She holds on, because the last time she let go, she never saw her family again.

Toriel still feels denial; dissociated in a sense from reality as she hugged her long-lost child. Her baby. Her Chara. The same sweater she died in. The same neat and micro-managed bob of hair. The rosy complexion and ruby red eyes to match.

The bony limbs.

The torn smile.

Blisters. So many blisters.

Neither of them want to let go. They stay still, clutching onto eachother like lifelines, still too afraid to let go again. Tears go dry. Shaking turns still. Tension grows into an endless memory of what used to be.

Time wore them all down.

And Frisk lays quietly in her side of the room, smiling the entire time.

She has a family, and it's slowly coming together.

Maybe this time things will work.