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Chapter Text

         Day number one on that start of summer was a flurry of activity for a certain group of friends, rushes made for food and presents and last minute touch ups to add that final, special flair to welcome back a very special person. Nervous excitement followed every footstep, every word, every action, till the air was practically alive with it. Everyone had a part to play, a little niche that suited them perfectly, and it wasn't long before everything was in perfect order and tip-top shape.

          And when the guest of honor finally arrived, it was to a fanfare of sparklers, party-poppers, and excited yells of 'welcome back!'

          Yu Narukami  smiled and laughed, brushing off a few glittery streamers from his shirt until he was rushed by a thrilled Nanako and an even more exuberant Teddie, their collective force nearly enough to send him crashing to the floor. Yosuke stood up, only half-heartedly snapping at the bear before holding out a hand and grinning and saying he was glad his partner still had a house to come back too after everything they'd done to it. Rise chastised him-they weren't that much of a mess, after all-and coyly snaked an arm around her Senpai's, smiling ear to ear as she regaled him with praise until Marie took up the space on Yu's other side and a glaring contest ensued between the girls. Dojima cut in then, telling everyone to settle down before they broke something.

          Food was served after, Yukiko's face full of pride as she offered out her latest batch of homemade snacks. To everyone's eternal gratitude and relief, they were surprisingly edible, and Yu didn't hesitate to tell her so, and that had her smiling for the rest of the day. Chie followed up by showing off a collection of dvds she'd brought for them to watch later, beating out Kanji as he tried to show his Senpai the new toy model he was working on, much to his chagrin. Naoto continuously offered commentary from the side, face of perfect contentment as the day wore on to evening.

          It felt like summer had truly begun.

          Day number two, Yu went on around the town, haunting familiar haunts and smiling as he reconnected with old friends. Day number three, the group travelled around Junes together with Nanako in tow. Day four they chanced the revitalized tv realm with a picnic lunch, and admired the beautiful scenery sprung from the hearts of humankind. And day five ended with a literal bang when someone (Yosuke swears it was Teddie, Teddie swears it was Yosuke, and vice-versa) lit a whole box of bottle rockets that nearly led to the backyard of the Dojima household being on fire.

          It was a fantastic week. And all who shared it reveled in the plentiful number of days they still before the summer came to a close.

(----)

          At the end of the first week of summer, Frisk found themselves on their knees, hands fisted in piles of dust and face pressed into a dark purple robe that lay torn and tattered amidst the fine grey powder. Tears fell freely from their eyes as muted apologies tumbled from their trembling lips, echoing back endlessly with no forgiveness in sight.

          I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry . . .

          They'd just wanted to go home . . .

          (What home? You didn't like your last one. That's why you left. You didn't like this one. That's why you killed her.)

          I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry . . .

          They didn't mean to do this! They didn't want to kill her!

          (Of course you did. Otherwise, you wouldn't have done it.)

          I'm sorry, I'm sorry-

          (It was easy to kill her. After all, she tried to kill you first. The rest will be the same, too.)

          I'm sorry . . .

          They didn't want this. They didn't want this!

          (So just kill them all.)

          They didn't want this!

          RESET?

          Frisk blinked. Stared. At first, they thought they were imagining it, a hallucination brought upon them by their fear and sorrow, the emotions blurring together with their tears. They looked up, blinking hard, waiting for the moment when the darkness of their lids stamped the word away. But the word remained, a scrawl of yellow and black superimposed on the backs of their eyes, like the sharp afterimage of a lens flash that refused to fade, unchanging and only semi-transparent.

          RESET?  >Yes  No

          Reset . . . they remembered that word. More importantly, they remembered what it meant. Reset . . . 'restart'. 'Go back'. 'Try again'.

          They reached for it, trembling fingers brushing where the word hovered despite the annoyed hiss in their head. Frisk snatched it back when it fluctuated, the world around them darkening the closer their fingers came to it. It was then they realized . . . it was unquestionably real.

          . . . Could they go back? Is that what this strange, otherworldly word offered?

          Could they really go back? Could they fix this . . . and spare her instead?

          With nothing left to lose except the determination in their SOUL, and despite the screaming in their head to ignore it, to keep going, to take that knife and kill, Frisk reached out and turned the dial back on their timeline for the first time ever.

          And the world turned back with it.

(----)

          Day number one on that start of summer was a flurry of activity for a certain group of friends, rushes made for food and presents and last minute touch ups to add that final, special flair to welcome back a very special person. Nervous excitement followed every footstep, every word, every action, till the air was practically alive with it. Everyone had a part to play, a little niche that suited them perfectly, and it wasn't long before everything was in perfect order and tip-top shape.

          And when the guest of honor finally arrived, it was to a fanfare of sparklers, party-poppers, and excited yells of 'welcome back!'

          Yu Narukami  smiled and laughed, brushing off a few glittery streamers from his shirt until he was rushed by a thrilled Nanako and an even more exuberant Teddie, their collective force nearly enough to send him crashing to the floor. Yosuke stood up, only half-heartedly snapping at the bear before holding out a hand and grinning and saying he was glad his partner still had a house to come back too after everything they'd done to it. Rise chastised him-they weren't that much of a mess, after all-and coyly snaked an arm around her Senpai's, smiling ear to ear as she regaled him with praise. Dojima cut in then, telling everyone to settle down before they broke something.

          Food was served after, Yukiko's face full of pride as she offered out her latest batch of homemade snacks. To everyone's eternal gratitude and relief, they were surpassingly edible, and Yu didn't hesitate to tell her so, and that had her smiling for the rest of the day. Chie followed up by showing off a collection of dvds she'd brought for them to watch later, beating out Kanji as he tried to show his Senpai the new toy model he was working on, much to his chagrin. Naoto continuously offered commentary from the side, face of perfect contentment as the day wore on to evening.

          It felt like summer had truly begun.

          Except . . .

          One pair of eyes continuously examined the group around them.

          Haven't we. . . done this already? he thought, perplexed. But no one else brought it up. No one else felt the same. So he must be imagining it. He must be.

          But no matter what he did, that feeling of deja-vu never left. And it followed him into the next day . . . and the next . . . and the next, niggling like a persistent little worm in an apple core.

          Then it left after the first week, and, convinced it was just a result of all the excitement, life carried on as normal.

          Until it happened again.

          And again.

          And again.

          And again.

          And again.

          And again.

          And again-

          Something's wrong, he realized, watching Nanako deliver her piano recital for what felt like the nth time, Something's wrong.

          Sometimes it was quick. So quick, only a handful of days. Sometimes it stretched out for much, much longer, weeks and weeks, before it started again. And he couldn't even say with certainty that he was remembering what was happening. Just strong feelings of deja-vu, broken bits of memory that felt far too real to have been a mistake, yet how could they be memories already when the events that had made those memories hadn't even started?

          And no one else noticed.

          He pulled Yosuke aside, asked him if everything felt the same to him. The boy only cocked an eyebrow, frowning, "Um, what? How many of Yukiko's snacks did you eat?"

          He pulled Naoto aside, asked her if everything felt the same to her. Her eyebrows knitted together, the way he'd seen her do when she was puzzled. But when he tried to explain, that puzzlement shifted to concern, "Are you feeling alright? Its very unusual to see you so troubled."

          He pulled Yukiko aside, "Um, I'm sorry. Was this supposed to be a joke?"

          He pulled Chie aside, "Huh? Uh, I think you maybe got a little too much sun out there today. Here, have a melon soda! That'll perk ya right up!"

          One by one, he pulled everyone aside, and asked them if everything felt the same to them. But no one understood. By the time the day was done, they all were giving him concerned looks, whispering that maybe he'd worn himself out with all the preparation, had eaten too much, had played too hard . . .

          And no one believed him when he said it was the same. It was all the same.

          Even the level-headed and compassionate Yu, who placed a hand on his head and asked if he'd like to end the party early so he could go home and rest, didn't believe him.

          No one believed him, and Teddie didn't know what to do.

Chapter Text

          RESET.

          SAVE.

          LOAD.

          In the course of the next few weeks (or perhaps months), Frisk came to know those words very, very well. Pockets of space where they could SAVE their very existence, a safe spot to hold their memories as their body forged ahead. To LOAD after an unexpected death, to find themselves completely free of any injury with nothing new save knowledge of what was to come next. And a RESET, if things simply were not working the way they wanted, and perhaps a clue they'd missed could be found.

          Such a great and terrifying power . . . it awed and frightened them in equal measure.

          And somehow, they were the one who had it. For some reason, the world had seen fit to bestow it to them. Frisk kept telling themselves that they had to try and use it responsibly, and more often than not, they found themselves wondering if it was even right to use it. Found themselves fearing a day where they began to treat this power like a toy, a simple outlet for amusement and nothing more, in the process diminishing the value of the lives caught up in the chaos.

          This power had saved people . . . who's to say it couldn't hurt them too?

          They reflected, a little bitterly, that this wasn't the first time they'd compared their situation to a videogame, slang and all. What could stop Frisk from treating it like one save their own inhibition.

          Even for their misgivings, they had to use it. They needed to keep going, and unfortunately, it was not an easy road to walk. Death was becoming a familiar friend, unnerving as that sounded, and the power to LOAD gave Frisk a chance to go back and try again.

          (Unless you strike them down instead. Stop letting them hurt you! Fight instead. Then no one will mess with you.)

          Frisk swallowed and shook their head. They didn't know if anyone actually heard them. They didn't know if the voice in their head was even real. But they wouldn't listen to it. They'd gone back in the first place to spare someone dear to them. They didn't have to hurt the monsters to get by. And they wouldn't.

          Besides . . . Frisk found they rather liked the monsters they met. Sans was funny, Papyrus was just fun, and Toriel . . . Toriel had been one of the warmest and kindest people they'd ever met. And they could never dream of hurting them.

          Looking ahead up the glimmering path, Frisk took a deep, refreshing breath of frost-laden air before pushing deeper through the snow, that familiar pulse of determination filling their body and SOUL.

          Maybe this time . . . they'd be able to get past Undyne.

(----)

          At first, Teddie wanted to believe that he was just imagining things. That he really was just overly sleepy and worn out from prepping and playing and all those other good things, because time couldn't really be going backward, could it? It couldn't really be repeating itself over and over again, with only him remembering and no one else any wiser to the change?

          But when it finally became apparent that that was exactly what was happening and, yes, he had done exactly this activity before and yes, Yosuke, he knows where the bottle rockets are, you've told him where so many times already, Teddie kind of . . . freaked out.

          But what else was a little bear supposed to do?! Time was going all loopy, like, really loopy, and he was the only one sniffing it out and realizing it! Hiding in his fur didn't help, much as he wished it would. And he hid in his fur a lot those first few weeks (maybe? He'd kinda lost track), enough that being out of his fur was becoming a rarity. Talking didn't help either, because soon he was just repeating himself over and over again and throwing out his voice doing so. He tried writing it down, only for those same pages to turn up blank. He'd tried recording with his phone, only for the memory to be empty when he checked it again. He tried a lot of different things . . . but eventually, it'd go back and there'd be nothing. It was enough to drive a little bear like him crazy!

          A-and . . . maybe it was driving him a little crazy? Days and days of just watching the same things happen over and over again, knowing it would be the same things over and over again, and he started to feel like his presence didn't even matter anymore. Actions meant less and less and less, a profound disconnect from the rest of the world, and as time wore on, Teddie found himself not being able to muster the energy to try anymore because he knew what was going happen anyway, so what was the point? What did it even matter?

          And no one else knew what was wrong. Even if he told his friends, they'd just forget.

          The distress and frustration of it had worn away after a time. Now all that was left in its place was a melancholy acceptance. A melancholy that weighed heavy on his soul, a somber cloud that followed him wherever he went, regardless of how hard he tried to ignore it.

           "Ted? Hey, Ted!"

          Teddie blinked, not realizing his attention had waned so completely until Yosuke was practically leaning in front of him, an eyebrow cocked in bemusement . . . and maybe a little concern. Behind him, he could see everyone else watching the tv screen, where a ninja and a samurai were dueling for the right to take the emerald that would save their respective homelands. Except Sensei, who was glancing back at him after he heard his best friend speak.

          "You feeling alright, dude? You've been zoning out super hard today," Yosuke questioned softly, keeping his voice low so as not to disturb the others. He smiled a little, adding a bit more humorously, "Did you eat too many of Yukiko-san's snacks?"

          Teddie shook his head, not feeling up to saying it again. Most of the time he tried his best to play along and pretend everything was fine, but forcing laughter and faking smiles was a lot harder than he'd thought it would be. It grew positively exhausting after a time.

          Yosuke frowned at his lack of response, but before he could speak, Chie was slapping his shoulder and hissing, "Yosuke, pay attention! This is the best part!"

          Oh, yeah. The part where the two heroes resolved their differences to save both their homelands in an a epic fight with the real-though misunderstood-bad guy, the god of the eternal void.

          Sensei was still looking his way, and with a touch more effort, he smiled. The other boy's brow furrowed, but he thankfully didn't press the issue then and turned away. That was okay. Soon, it would go back, and he'd forget.

          There was shuffling beside him, and he jerked to surprised attention when he saw Rise-chan had scooted closer to him, half her face cast on shadow and the rest in flickering lights of varying intensity from the tv. Normally, he would have greeted her with exuberance and maybe a little flirting . . . but he just didn't feel up to it then.

          She noticed, brow furrowing slightly as she leaned over to whisper, "Hey, are you sure you're feeling okay? Yosuke-senpai's right, you've been a little off all day today."

          He shrugged, putting on a smile if only to make Rise-chan not worry so much. Gosh, he needed to put a better face on, it wouldn't do to keep slipping up like this, "I think I'm just sleepy. Nothing a good bear-nap won't fix!"

          " . . . are you sure that's it? Normally, you'd just pass out if you were tired, but . . ."

          She didn't believe him. He had to make her believe him and put her at ease, he had to! Otherwise, everyone would start worrying again. So, pulling on a last, but foolproof resort, he leaned back, let his smile widen lasciviously, and winked, "Weeeell, maybe if I had a lovely siren sing me to sleep . . ."

          Rise-chan scoffed, rolling her eyes, "Yeah, you can sing yourself to sleep just fine."

          He let out a quiet sigh of relief. Saved.

          Before leaning back entirely, however, Rise-chan hesitated before adding one last, quiet word, "But . . . you do know if something is bothering you, you can talk to one of us, right?"

          He blinked, an unfamailiar flash of something sour curdling in his insides, like he'd sucked on a lemon.

          Bitterness.

          If only I could talk to you . . .

          Instead, he grinned and nodded, "Mhm! Of course, I'm always ready to talk to you, Rise-chan!~"

          Rise-chan bit her lip, but in light of his goofy reply, she let it go after that. Briefly, he wondered if this conversation would happen again once he went back, then decided it was best not to think about.

          Except this one didn't go back.

          -

          It was the longest stretch Teddie could last recall, reaching deep into the summer without any blips or distortions that threw everything into a disorienting haze. Days turned into weeks, and the weeks passed by and by and by, not stopping and not going back, the way time was supposed too. The second month had just begun when things began to take a brighter turn into refreshingly new and unknown territory, a change Teddie met with absolute joy after the tedium of the constant and never-ending loop.

          Now, if it would just stay this way . . .

          "You know what I think we should do?" Rise-chan asked as she took a seat at everyone's favorite table, eyes all a-sparkle with her usual cheer, "Beach party."

          Teddie perked up, interested and hopeful. They hadn't had a beach party before. They hadn't even gone to the beach yet this summer!

          "A beach party?" Yosuke questioned, soda clicking against the table as he set it down, "What'd'ya have in mind?"

          Rise-chan rolled her eyes, "What else? Barbecue, swimming, and fireworks!"

          Chie-chan shook her head, "Eh, maybe we should pass on the fireworks. Remember what happened last time?"

          She shot an accusatory look Yosuke and Teddie's way, until Yukiko-chan let out an indecent snort.

          "Sorry," she apologized, "It was just kind of funny."

          "My uncle certainly didn't think so," Sensei said, even though he had a faint smile on his face, "And neither did the grass."

          "Well, there won't be any grass on the beach! Come on, you can't tell me you guys didn't once think about going this summer?" Rise-chan probed, not backing down.

          "I'm game," Kanji said, nodding.

          "If you guys can keep your trunks on this time, yeah, totally," Chie said.

          Kanji blushed, "Hey . . ."

          "I think that sounds like fun," Sensei agreed, nodding as he pulled out his cell phone, no doubt to text Marie-chan the info, "I'm sure I can whip up something for the trip. What day did you have in mind?"

          "Maybe sometime next week? When does everyone's schedule work out?" Rise asked, and the table devolved into planning the hereby-definitely-happening-beach-party, with Rise texting Naoto-chan and everyone clearing calendars for the fun day ahead.

          It was the first time Teddie could last recall feeling genuinely excited for something, and it showed as he eagerly asked Yosuke to take the next Friday off for both of them so everyone could go together.

          "-And we could do those little strobe light thingies, and bring topsicles and soda, oooh, and buy new trunks!~" Teddie listed off to a passively silent Yosuke, who only nodded as he opened up the door to their shared home. He hadn't stopped prattling on about the party since they'd parted ways from the rest of their friends, to enthused by the novel idea of something new to even pause for air.

          "-Can we do that, Yosuke, can we, can we?" he turned to he older boy, who was kicking off his shoes in the entryway.

          "Sure," he replied, "But you're buying your own pair."

          "Yes!~" Teddie shouted, grinning as he jumped into the air with a twirl. He stuck the landing and stuck his arms out, waiting for a little praise, when instead, all he got was a strangely sobering look from Yosuke. He tilted his head, "Hm?"

          The other boy blinked, then coughed to hide his embarrassment, "Oh, uh, sorry. It's just . . . feels like I haven't seen you this excited for something in awhile. I was starting to get worried." he gave him a half-smile, adding good-naturedly, "Stupid, right?"

          Teddie was silent for a moment, a prickle of guilt squirming in his soul. He guess . . . he had been a bit of a sour bear. But it was better now. Things were looking up again, finally, and Yosuke wouldn't have to worry again. Neither of them would. So, putting on a big and sunny smile, he chortled, "Aw, does this mean the tyrannical Hanamura really and truly cares about this little old bear? Heehee, I knew I'd win your heart one day with enough persistence!"

          "Oh, shut up," Yosuke lightly bopped the palm of his hand against Teddie's head, but there was just a hint of a smile there, one he was vainly trying to hide. There, that was better!

          He didn't give Teddie a chance to respond, heading off deeper into the house and calling out, "Come on, lets get some dinner. I'm starving."

          Smiling still, he followed Yosuke into the dining room, a spring in his step for the rest of the evening as he thought about a blissfully new and untouched summer's day. Even his dreams   were pleasant, full of sun and sand and gorgeous girls to score with, with all his friends around him and where everything was perfect, comforted by knowledge that he was well and truly free of the nightmare that had been plaguing him for so long, it seemed.

          He couldn't recall the last time he'd woken up feeling refreshed. Feeling new. Yawning and giving his back a good stretch, he crawled out of his closet as the sun began to peek in through the curtain, a slanted bar of gold carving a path through the middle of the room. Rubbing his eyes, he happened to take a passing glance at the calendar, the one where he'd happily circled and re-circled the day of their new beach party, all the other bygone days crossed out in red. And he stopped.

          It was the first day of summer again.

          Behind him, Yosuke's alarm was going off again.

          He was right back at the beginning again.

          It was happening again.

          Again and again and again and again and again-!

          Teddie didn't know if he had insides to speak of like his friends did, but in that moment he felt something, something tenuous but important, deep, deep down in his very core . . . break.

          Sliding down the nearest wall, expression broken in more ways than one, Teddie pressed his face into his knees and didn't get up.

          -

          It felt like he wasn't even really there, those next passing loops. Like he was just an observer to his own cheap and tired performance, his body a puppet for whatever cruel and horrifically bored entity saw fit to put him through this. Each turn, he'd withdraw further and further into himself, not even hoping that the monotony would break anymore, because now he knew better. He knew better . . .

          "Teddie, could you grab the fireworks? They're under the cabinet by the sink!"

          "Okay."

          "Teddie, could you help me carry these? I made a bit much . . ."

          "Okay."

          "Hey, Ted, can ya help me look for my sewing kit? I thought I left it around here, but I can't find it."

          "Okay."

          "Hey, are you feeling okay?"

          "I'm fine."

          "Ted, you don't look so good. What's up?"

          "It's fine."

          "Teddie, what's the matter?"

          "Everything's fine."

          The same words, the same sentences, litanies upon litanies of dialogue he'd memorized by heart now, and where ecstatic enthusiasm had once colored his replies was now a dull, hollow barrenness that failed to even sound bitter. Food tasted bland, colors weren't so bright, the sun didn't feel so warm, sleep was nothing but a void to escape into now, just nothing felt right to him at all anymore.

          His friends had definitely noticed by now. Teddie knew they must have noticed that he wasn't acting like his usual sunny self, but as awful as he felt over it, he just couldn't find it in himself anymore to even pretend he was okay. He didn't feel anything, and the rational part of his mind knew that that was something he should be worried about, that that should frighten him, but he just . . . he just . . .

          He just wanted to sleep.

          Gosh . . . he hadn't felt so empty since . . . since his shadow had first manifested.

          The thought didn't scare him like he knew it should.

          It was . . . he didn't know, but at some point after the party on some unspecified loop, he was sat down under the gazebo with his friends, away from any onlookers as they gathered around the table. Hn, this was new . . .

          No one spoke at first. A quiet and sort of eerie hush fell over the group, like no one knew what to say or how to start. Sensei was on his right, Yosuke on his left, the others scattered around here and there, and no one breathed a word. You'd think he was being scolded for nicking a little pocket money or misplacing Yosuke's magazines or annoying the girls again, if it hadn't been so quiet.

          It stayed that way until Yosuke finally took charge and cut straight to the point, "Okay, there's no point beating around the bush, so I'm just gonna say it; Ted, what's wrong?"

          Everything, was what he wanted to say. But he knew by now that there was no point. So he just stayed silent, eyes fixed to the table and hands folded tight in his lap. Maybe if he held his tongue long enough (for once), they'd drop it.

          Yosuke wasn't satisfied with the silence, "Come on, man, its obvious something's not right! You normally can't keep your mouth shut at all, but this past week, you've barely made a sound! Hell, I can't even remember the last time you made a stupid pun! Just talk to us!"

          "Yosuke," Sensei's voice was soft and understanding, but firm, "I know you're worried, but let's take this slowly."

          The other boy bit his lip, but nodded and drew back. Teddie could feel his eyes on him still, prickling and severe, but not angry like one would expect. He could tell that much.

          Sensei placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, tone ever-gentle, not pushing as he inquired, "Teddie, I'm sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, but please, is there anything you can tell us? Anything at all?"

          There's so much, but you'll just forget. The words failed to make it past his lips.

          -Inside, it felt like something was bending-

          "Is someone picking on you?" Chie demanded, slamming a hand into her open palm, "Cause if there is, just point 'em out and we'll set them straight!"

          "Damn right!" Kanji agreed, cracking his knuckles.

          "Before we begin advocating assault, lets ascertain what the problem is first," Naoto interjected sharply, looking between the two. Then, refocusing her attention on him and with a touch more gentleness, she added, "Please, Teddie, any information at all would help. Whatever it is that is troubling you, I promise we will do all in our power to help."

          It doesn't matter.

          "We're worried about you, Teddie," Rise said, eyes sad and full of concern.

          It doesn't matter.

          "Please, we just want to help," Yukiko put in sincerely, lips turned down into a worried frown.

          It doesn't matter.

          "Teddie . . ."

          It. Doesn't. Matter.

          There was silence. An uncomfortable silence broken only by the sound of the soft summer wind and the twittering of distant birds. He realized too late that he'd spoken out loud.

            "It . . . doesn't matter?" Yosuke parroted, confused, "What doesn't matter? Teddie, what's going on?"

          He reflexively shrunk in on himself. He . . . he hadn't meant to speak, he didn't want to have to explain it again, why couldn't they just leave it alone, couldn't they see he didn't want to talk about it-!

          -The bending grew worse-

          He hadn't realized he'd started shaking until Sensei began to gently pat his back, whispering, "Hey, hey, its alright. Calm down, its okay."

          No it wasn't, it was so far from okay! It was so far from okay, and he didn't know what to do about it anymore!

          -And worse-

          His hands were clenched so tightly they were trembling now, knuckles white and taunt, eyes stinging fiercely. He didn't look up.

           Marie-chan, on the other side of the table and having kept a quiet but observant peace, finally rose from her seat, arms crossed and frowning, but her voice was gentled from its usual brusque manner, " Listen Bea- . . . Teddie, none of us get what's going on. And we'll never get what's going on if you don't talk to us. Or someone, even if its just one person. You might think it helps, but take it from me . . . it doesn't."

          He knows that. But what does that matter when a few days from now you'll just forgot everything he said?

          -And worse-

          Another hand appeared on his shoulder, Yosuke urging a touch more softly, "Hey, its . . . its alright if you don't want to say everything. But if this thing that's happening is upsetting you this much, we need to know something, okay?"

          The shaking grew stronger. Why couldn't they just leave it be? Why did they have to keep asking for answers they would just forget?

          -And worse-

          "It . . . doesn't matter," his voice sounded unnaturally small to his ears.

          "Of course it matters!" Chie shouted, suddenly up in her seat, hands pressed to the table, "What the hell makes you think how you feel doesn't matter?!"

          -And snap-

          "Because you'll JUST FORGET!" it was loud, so loud, more like a scream than a shout, and the table went absolutely silent. But it was too late now. The floodgates were open-shattered, destroyed, torn and sundered-tears springing unbidden, and they, like the words, would not stop, "I've tried saying it before, I've tried so many times, but everyone just forgets! No one remembers, no one remembers anything, so what's the point?! Nothing sticks, nothing works, it all ends the same way, and in the end it never matters! IT DOENS'T MATTER!!"

          His voice echoed around the field before falling to a dismal, sullen silence, a silence not even the birds dare break. A palpable aura of shock had descended around the table, thick and heavy and choking like soot, though that may just be the sobs he was vainly trying to force down.

          Seconds, minutes, an eternity passed by this way before a hesitant hand touched his shoulder, "Teddie-"

          He didn't want to hear it. Springing from his seat, ignoring everyone cries to stop, he turned and bolted down the road and out of sight.

          -

          His feet took him to the riverbank.

          Far down the riverbank, where no one was around save the setting sun and the fish swimming in lazy, happy circles under the water.

          Teddie dropped to a seat, panting and exhausted and tired and-and . . .

          A hoarse sob escaped him, and he reached up to rub at his eyes. Unwilling, his mind flashed to the moments before he'd run, the faces of his friends vivid in his eyes like the snapshot on a camera.

          Worry. Concern. Fear. Not of him, but for him. All those emotions, faces torn by grief and shock and startled fright, he'd put them there. He'd put them there because he couldn't just keep his stupid mouth shut, he couldn't just suck it up and let everything go by and leave his friends blissfully ignorant to his pain. Hadn't he promised himself, if nothing else, that he would prevent that?! Sure, he could be annoying and clingy and petty sometimes, but if there was one thing he was good at and proud of, it was his ability to cheer people up when they were feeling sad! And if he couldn't do any of that, what was he doing here? What was the point of him if he couldn't even do that?!

          He began tearing up tufts of grass between his fingers, letting the blades scatter as his thoughts went to darker and darker places, continuing to sob all the while, bereaved and uncaring for who found him now. Everyone would forget once it went back.

          Until you break again. Foolish child, you can't even protect your friends from your own wild emotions.

          He couldn't . . .

          Acting out, crying for help even when you know help can't be given. Selfish, selfish indeed.

          He can't . . .

          It would be better if you just weren't here.

          It would be better if he just wasn't here . . .

          He was so tired of this. He was so tired of everything . . .

          The water glistened ahead of him, rolling calm and serene in spite of his tearful presence. It was so beautiful . . . and so very deep.

          One could just slip right in . . . and never have to worry about anything ever again . . .

          "Teddie!"

          His head snapped up, startled as he whipped around to face the newcomer.

          His Sensei stood up by the reeds, eyes wide, that same fearful look on his face, and a jolt of pure horror rocked Teddie to his core. What . . . what had he just been thinking? H-how could he think that?! He didn't . . . didn't understand everything, but he also wasn't so ignorant anymore. He couldn't pretend to be, not when he knew that that . . . that wasn't something you came back from! That wasn't something you could ever take back!  

          And he'd . . . h-he'd . . . with Sensei right there . . .

          Fresh, guilt-ridden hurt welled up in his core, voice stuttering, weak, apologetic, "I'm . . . I-I'm sorry. I-I'm s-so s-sorry. . ."

          His breath hitched, and suddenly a pair of arms were around his shoulders, a hand in his hair and another soothingly stroking his back, and Teddie pressed his face into Sensei's shoulder and wailed. All his grief, his pain, his frustration . . . everything was finally laid bare, spilling fresh onto Sensei's sleeve as all his pent up emotions were finally given release.

          He didn't calm down for a long time, not until he was spent of all his tears and the sun was just a sliver of orange on the horizon. He may have fallen asleep at some point, but then he might not have. Time had not been the same for him in a long, long time. But Sensei stayed with him the entire time, his voice a hushed, but comforting lilt in the background that, over time, gently drew him back to earth.

          Once he was no longer sniffling, the other finally, quietly prompted, "Do you want to talk about it?"

          Teddie shook his head . . . then, after a quiet moment of thought, nodded his head. He'd already fallen so far, and it was too late to hide anything. Besides, what could . . . one more try hurt?

          "Then talk. For as long as you need. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon, so don't feel you have to rush."

          And so he talked. He talked for an even longer time, telling his story, the events of the past months (years, it felt like), how everything was wrong and no one remembered and he didn't know what to do-!

          Sensei had stopped stroking his hair, oddly still as he listened to it all. Once Teddie fell silent, he prompted with an odd and tight grimace in his voice, "And . . . that's the whole truth?"

          Teddie slumped, "Yes. Its okay if you don't believe me . . . i-if you think I'm crazy . . ."

          "No, you're not crazy," Sensei said with absolute conviction, "I believe what you've just told me. All of it."

          He said it so firmly. So decisively. But . . .

          "I did tell you before . . . but you didn't believe me then . . ." he whispered, gaze falling, "Why's now different?"

          Silence, one that was pensive in its nature, broken by the gentle roll of the waves lapping along the shore. Then, ". . . I believe that, too. But now, I . . . I think I have a little more information. And I know you, Teddie. Sometimes, you can be a little melodramatic, and I mean that affectionately . . . but the way you reacted to our questions and the  . . ." he trailed off, and Teddie saw him swallow like he was forcing down a lump before continuing, ". . . the way you looked just now . . . that's not something you would ever do. Not unless something was very, very wrong," he looked him in the eye this time, and Teddie saw no trace of deceit or disbelief in Sensei's eyes at all, "So I believe you."

          . . . A small, evanescent spark of something flickered to life in Teddie's soul, feeble and barely worth the light of a matchstick . . . but to someone who'd been wandering lost in a snowstorm, it felt like the sun, " . . . really?"

          "I do. But that this is happening, and I don't . . ." he fell silent, face turning out to the water, looking thoughtful and pained before leading the conversation in a different direction, "Do you remember everything?"

          Teddie shook his head, "N-no. Not everything. B-but I remember a lot."

          "And you don't know why this is happening?"

          ". . . no."

          "Then that means you don't have control . . . and you've been going through this for so long . . ." he sounded so sad, so regretful . . . it made Teddie feel even worse for bringing it up.

          They lapsed into silence, the water lapping at their feet, before Teddie finally, hesitantly asked, "Sensei . . . what do I do? Everyone . . . e-everyone just forgets. You always forget, and I . . . I-I'm . . ."

          "Scared," Sensei offered quietly, eyes crinkled in sympathetic pain, "And lost, and . . . lonely. That's how you feel, isn't it?"

          He nodded, not trusting his voice.

          "I know. I know how scared you must be, and that you feel helpless and without direction. But whatever is happening, it must have a cause. And causes can always be found. Always."

          Always be found? But where would the cause even be?

          "How could I find it?" he asked lamely.

          A wistful, barely there smile graced Sensei's face, "The same way all of us found the truth last year; by never giving up."

           He looked Teddie in the eye then, a plea in his eyes that he wasn't used to seeing, "But Teddie, promise me something. However strong those emotions get . . . don't ever let them drag you down into someplace this dark again. I know what I'm asking for is hard, but believe me, if you let yourself wallow like this, you could . . . come to do something you regret. Or that you can't take back."

          Teddie shivered, eyes falling to the floor in guilt. But Sensei caught his chin and made him look up again, a firm resoluteness in his voice as he spoke, "Don't give up. Don't ever give up. Hope is what made you who you are now. Hope is how you found all of us. Hope, Teddie, that's who you are. Don't forget that. And if this all resets again, promise me that you won't. Alright?"

          Teddie swallowed. He wanted to believe. He wanted to believe so, so badly.

          Hope is what you are.

          Hope. It used to come so naturally to him. The will to believe in the best of people, to believe that it would all work out, to just believe. Why was it so hard now? How had he lost it so?

          "Teddie?"

          The questioning voice made him look up. Sensei was staring back at him, face a mask of gentle firmness that hid the lines of worry creasing the edges of his eyes. He was . . . really scared for him, he realized. Scared, and wanting him to believe in the things he believed. To remember the fire that had burned so brightly in them all, the belief that made his friends so wonderful and strong.

          For that . . . couldn't he at least try for that?

          The spark flickered just a little higher.

          "I . . . will," He said, but it sounded weak, fake, disbelieving. No, that wouldn't do. Not if he wanted Sensei to believe it. Not if he wanted himself to believe it. So, speaking with a little more force, a little more strength, and maybe a little more conviction, he repeated, "I will,".

          What else did he have to lose?

          Sensei gave a relieved sigh, shoulders drooping as he drew him back into another embrace, "Thank you."

          Teddie's cheek was pressed against the damp spot on the other boy's shirt, but it was perhaps the most comfortable thing he'd rested on in a long time. Then, with sincerity, he softly murmured, "No. Thank you, Sensei . . ."

          The sunset-tinged riverbed and the darkening sky was the last thing he saw before the world distorted into a whorl of fractured light and color, and then, once more, he woke up in his bed on the first day of summer.

          He pressed a hand to his chest, running a hand over now dry eyes as he thought back on his Sensei's words.

          Hope . . .

          Well . . . for his Sensei, and for his friends . . . he thinks he can give it another shot.

          Its the only thing he can do.

Chapter Text

          Whatever is happening, it must have a cause. And causes can always be found. Always.

          Those words stayed with Teddie when he woke up in his bed again, a comforting whisper in the back of his mind, and he clung to them like he'd never clung to anything before. Right, how could he be so flea-brained? This had a cause. This had a reason! And with enough determination, it could be found.

          It was that moment that Teddie made a promise to himself, and to his friends; he was going to investigate this phenomenon, and he would do something about it! What to actually do about it . . . well, he was still working on that part.

          There was no guarantee it would work. He had no clue where to start or what to even do. But it was something he could focus on. It was something that gave him a goal.

          And that was so much better than the black, lethargic apathy that had plagued him for far, far too long.

          Everyone forgot on the next set-back, unsurprisingly. It was just a bright and shiny new day to them, filled with limitless possibilities. Well, limitless in their eyes. After remembering he'd seen Yosuke drop that can of soda on Marie-chan's shoulder no less than seven times and the ensuing wrath that followed, one starts to realize that things are bit more scripted than you'd like. That was fine. So long as his friends never looked so scared and freaked out and afraid again, he'd laugh at Yosuke's expense as many times as need be.

          But it did cement one certainty for him . . . he'd have to figure this out on his own. He knew . . . he knew he should say something, to Sensei if no one else, but the amount of time spent trying to explain this could be better spent figuring out what was going on. He would be fine, he reasoned. He wasn't a cub, but a fully grown and very manly bear who could handle himself.

          Besides . . . he didn't want his friends worrying about this, and he especially didn't want them worrying about him like they had. Not after he'd . . .

          Well, that was his rationale at least.

          After his meltdown and subsequent confession, things went on to become . . . a little bit easier. A little bit. It didn't freak Teddie out so much anymore so . . . progress! True, he . . . still had his bad days. Days when he just felt too tired to do anything, weighed down by a melancholy loneliness he could only recall feeling once before, wishing for someone to talk to.

          But they were manageable enough, and once they were over, he could focus on his goal without much hindrance. After all, he'd promised that, no matter what, he wouldn't give up! He'd even started figuring how to tell when a loop happened! That's what he called them, anyway. He thought it was very clever. Or rather . . . beary clever! He almost laughed aloud at that. Gosh, how long had it been since he'd last made a pun?

          Anyway, he'd notice there was a difference between a little loop and the 'Reset', as he graciously came to dub it in memory of the word his Sensei had used that day on the riverbank. And after he'd looked up what it meant. Little loops, they always only went back a short ways, and it was always accompanied by a feeling that what he was doing now was very different from the thing he'd been doing a second ago. Those were easy to manage, mostly, if a little disorienting. But the Reset was different. The Reset always went back to the same, intrinsic spot in both place and time; waking up in his bed on the first day of summer, right before his Sensei came back to town.

          To make the most out of his investigation, he decided to start after another Reset happened. He'd get the most time that way!

          The first day he was always stuck helping with the party. Perhaps he knew it inside and out now, but that was no excuse to be a grizzly bear at Sensei's party! It wasn't that hard putting on a big smile to let his respected elder know how happy he was that he was here. And maybe, quietly and to himself, it was a way to thank Sensei for the words that had given him the courage to finally find answers. The words that had saved him . . . from a very dark and dangerous spiral.

          But the less said about that, the better.

          Besides, anything less would make him seem very ungrateful. Clawful, even!

          Hee, he'd have to use that one later.~

          But once he was free and when no one was looking . . . he started his search.

          Teddie didn't think there'd be much in Inaba, but his world might have something. It usually did, since a lot of strange stuff liked happening there, even after the fog was all gone. As far as first starts went, it wasn't the worst one! So, donning the comfortably familiar fur he'd cherished ever since he'd first learned he could cherish things, he plunged headfirst through the tv back to his world.

          Teddie's feet squeaked as he landed on the ground, ears up as he took a quick, cursory look around. Nothing out of the ordinary, it seemed. It was really pretty, though, much prettier than it had ever been before. Sometimes he still had to sit back and marvel at how much his world had changed thanks to his friends.

          But he couldn't marvel right now! He was on a mission, a mission to figure why this was happening and to save his friends!

          Bolstered by that thought, he set out in a random direction, looking for any little thing out of the ordinary, sniffing all the while. He had a lot of ground to cover. It was hours later that he meandered back to the tv exit, tired and disappointed, but resolve still firmly in place to come back tomorrow.

          His exploration went on for several days, each day setting out in a new direction, hoping to come across something fresh even as Yosuke continued to grow more and more belligerent with his absence, especially at work. But he had to keep going. This was too important to ignore! Besides, once the Reset happened, he wouldn't remember it anyway!

          He wouldn't remember . . .

          Grr, no! He couldn't think like that right now! He'd promised, and he was on a mission!

          A very slow-paced, dragging mission that for several Resets now hadn't offered anything in the way of clues. He tried hard not to let it get him down.

          Never give up.

          It was on another such uneventful day that things . . . changed. He was rifling through a particularly thick patch of brambles looking for small, hidden things (which was proving to be quite a thorny predicament, heh), when a soft, distant, but still noticeable buzz distracted him from his work. Dropping his stick with a start, he whirled around but saw nothing save the trees, not a thing striking him as out of the ordinary.

          Then his nose tingled.

          There weren't any actual, tangible scents to sniff, his nose was just tingling, and he pawed at it, confused. It didn't go away no matter how much he scratched it. What did that mean? His nose had never tingled like this before.

          He took a step forward, and the sensation grew stronger. Hesitantly, he took another step forward. Same result. For a moment, fear rose in him, fear for this strange new thing that he could not recall happening before. It struck him that searching for it on his own could be dangerous, disastrous even, and he hovered in place, debating seeking out help him from his friends like he would have done in a normal situation.  

          But no . . . no, he can't do that. That's the exact opposite of what he needs to do, if he wants to keep everyone from worrying again. This was his problem. He knew that.

          Teddie has to figure this out on his own.

          So, one by one, and with the careful caution he imagines Sensei would have told him to use in a dungeon, he began to follow his nose like he'd done before, the tingling gradually becoming worse and worse when he grew closer to whatever was causing it. Nothing stirred in the branches or the undergrowth, the forest as still as it had always been. That should be comforting . . . but with the ominous cloud of the unknown hanging over him, it wasn't.

          He came close, and soon ,Teddie emerged in a thicket bordered by a large stone wall that dwarfed the trees around it, casting the glen in shadow. He couldn't see the cliff tops from here, but that wasn't his concern right now. His concern right now was that the tingling had quite suddenly increased, so strong the urge he'd been holding back all this time could no longer be denied.

          He sneezed. A lot.

          When it finally died down, eyes watery and head slightly throbbing, he looked up to where the stone wall was and saw . . .

          . . . a door?

          -

          When he wakes up again after the next Reset, Teddie is certain he found something important in the last timeline. But for the life of him, he can't remember what.

          Heh. Novel.

          -

          . . . There's a box in the tv world this time.

          Teddie stared at it, eyes comically wide, disbelieving for a few moments. He'd come through the tv so many times now, but never had a box been present before on this beautifully lush hilltop. But no matter how many times he blinked, it wouldn't disappear. A box he distinctly remembered not leaving there was there, staring up at him in way that one could almost call mocking.

          He didn't know how to take it at first. He didn't even know what it meant. Why was this box here? I-it shouldn't be here, the whole world s-should have Reset, it's shouldn't be here-!

          A cold shiver crawled up his spine, the bear feeling profoundly unnerved for a reason he could not identify, quivering from head to furry toe.

          Was it . . . was it the tv world? Did that bring it here? But how? Why? It couldn't have been an accident, could it? But no, how could that be?

          He took another deep, deep breathe and forced himself to relax, fur laying flat as he poured all his effort into thinking rationally, just like Naoto-chan was always urging everyone to do. Be the Naoto-chan . . .

          . . . maybe there was a way to test this. If . . . if this was true, then this could actually be a beary good thing! Maybe . . . hm, what was it Sensei would say when he was planning and being amazing? 'Make it work in our favor'? Yeah, yeah, that was it! Teddie would make this work in his favor!

          . . . Somehow.

          But first, a test to see if what he was seeing wasn't just a hopeful delusion and actually reality.

          He crept forward, examining the strange and unexpected object. It didn't . . . look all that special. It was small, very small, like a little jewelry box, if jewelry boxes were made of metal. It had a closed lid with a small latch, and on the top, Teddie could just see the scratched out, faded, and worn varnish that would have marked the place of words. But he couldn't read them at all. They were simply too faded away.

          Taking a breath, he reached down and flicked the lid open, jumping back in case something unpleasant was inside.

           . . . it was empty.

          Hm . . .

          Teddie blinked, thinking about what to do with this strange phenomenon, when he was suddenly standing in front of rack of clothes in Junes' clothing department, their colors and price tags blurring for a moment as he reoriented himself with the now.

          Oh, a loop. Convenient.      

          He could hear Marie-chan in the rack beyond, rifling through the clothes and listing off what colors and styles would go best with Naoto-chan's features. The other girl didn't make much comment other than that her time could perhaps be better spent elsewhere, but Marie-chan wasn't letting her off the hook. Or rather, the clothes' hook. Hehe.~

          Oh well. He was confident that once she was finished, Naoto-chan would look positively radiant. Okay, well, he knew she would, but those were the little details.

          But he had a box to investigate! So, once Teddie was sure they were distracted and Yosuke was nowhere in sight, he quickly tromped off to the electronics department.

          -

          It stayed. Exactly as he'd left it, open and all. At first, he thought it too good to be true, so he just stared at it, waiting for it to fade away. But it didn't fade away. It didn't disappear, and when he poked it, it was physical and real under his fingers. Which meant . . .

          Which meant the box didn't follow the rules of the loops like everything else did . . .

          . . . but how?

          . . . and more importantly . . . could it work on other things?

          He wasted no time in experimenting.

          And, as it turned out, it worked with lots of things, actually. Stones, sticks, leaves, even things brought in from the real world! Whatever was placed inside this box, they would stay. No matter how many times his time went back, they would stay. They would stay, and finally, after all this time, Teddie felt like he had some direction with what he was doing. After all, a little bit of hope was way better than none. True, it didn't hold an awful lot, but even a few special items saved from the ravages of resets was the best thing to happen to him since . . . ever!

          And the first thing he did was start a journal.

          His writing was still a little messy, and he spelled a lot of words wrong, but it was clear enough to him when he wrote down his thoughts and findings. It was wonderful to have a place to store his progress, a place to document everything and not have it get jumbled by his own sporadic and muddled memories. And if a Reset happened, he could just go back and review everything he had, remember what he'd forgotten and not feel so lost all the time.

          Heh, it made him sound like a detective. Private Investigator Teddie, on the case!~

          One day, as he flipped through the pages and strolled through a part of the woods he had yet to investigate, he came across an interesting passage he didn't remember writing. Normally, that wasn't a problem. He tended to forget a lot of stuff as the weeks . . . or maybe months? Gosh, how long has this been going on? He couldn't tell. But anyway, not remembering wasn't a problem. The problem with it was he didn't understand what was written at all. It didn't even really look like writing. Just a lot of cute little drawings, like mail boxes and anchors and peace signs, all arranged in neat, orderly little rows.

          Pressing his nose into the book, Teddie stared at the words, trying to understand their meaning. What were these? They didn't even look like words!

          So engrossed was he that Teddie almost, almost, missed the tiniest flicker of black in the corner of his eye and the faint, faint hiss of static.

          He jerked up with a startled yelp, journal flying out of his hands and landing on the grass a few feet away. He whirled around, hyper alert now and wishing he hadn't decided to leave his fur behind in order to read. Nothing moved in the trees, and he didn't hear anything . . . did he just imagine it? This had never happened before, he was sure, and the sudden unknown left him feeling more than a little scared.

          Cautiously, he sniffed the air, only to stiffen.

          Someone was coming!

          No sooner had the realization crossed his mind did he hear the sharp snap of a twig, and he jumped as the bushes ahead of him jostled with movement.

          "Teddie?"

          The bear almost deflated with relief as his Sensei pushed through the plants, looking confused and just a touch worried as he looked him over, "Are you alright? I heard you cry out."

          Teddie straightened, falling effortlessly into a disarming smile, "Oh, sorry if I worried you, Sensei. I just tripped on something!"

          He still didn't like it, lying to his friends. He'd done it enough now that you'd think it wouldn't bother him so much. But it did. Honestly, he thinks its better that way. He doesn't think he'd like the person he'd become if he ever became okay with it.

          Sensei was smiling now, brushing off his pants as he spoke, "I guess that would happen. Lots of things to trip on, now," he glances up, inquisitive, "What are you doing out here, anyway? Everyone's been looking for you."

          Teddie rubbed the back of his head, still smiling, "Oh, this and that! There's lots of new things to explore now, Sensei, its grrr-eat!"

          "Yes, it really is something, isn't it?" Sensei took a moment to appreciate the scenery before looking back his way, a more serious look on his face, "But, next time let us know where you're going. You've been gone for a while now."

          Oh. Oops.

          "Sorry," he said, this time genuinely, "I kind of lost track of time . . ."

          "Time to get a watch then, I think is the correct response here," Sensei replied with a smile, and Teddie giggled. The other boy continued, "Come on, let's go back. We keep Yosuke waiting anymore, he'll probably dock your topsicle intake."

          "Noooo!" Teddie lamented in his usual, overdramatic way, throwing himself onto the other boy and looking up at him with pleading eyes, "Sensei, I've been nothing but the best little bear! You wouldn't let him do something so horribly cruel to me, right?"

          Sensei laughed, the sound light and fond, and Teddie's smile became a little more genuine as the boy ruffled his hair, "Of course. I'm sure your Sensei can reason with the tyrannical Hanamura."

          Teddie laughed, enjoying the affection, when Sensei let out a faint hum and bent down to the ground, "What's this?"

          Teddie looked, and froze.

          Sensei was holding his journal. He was holding his journal, he was opening his journal, he was about to look through his journal-!

          Without thinking, Teddie reached out and snatched it out of the other's hands.

          There was a moment of startled silence, and the bear swallowed nervously as Sensei began to speak, "Teddie-?"

          "Haha! Sorry, Sensei!" Teddie laughed, looking up with a smile on his face, "This is mine. I dropped it when I tripped earlier. But you can't read it! The contents are a super, super secret special surprise!"

          Sensei raised an eyebrow, the alarm not quite dissipating like he'd hoped, "A super, super secret special surprise?"

          "Uh-huh! So no looking!" Teddie looked at him, this time a little more earnestly, "Promise?"

          Sensei stared, brow furrowing together, a look not unlike concern and . . . something else Teddie couldn't quite place appearing on his face. For one heart pounding moment, Teddie was afraid he'd ask, when finally Sensei said, "Alright. I promise."

          Teddie beamed, "Thanks, Sensei!"

          "But . . ."  

          He froze.

          "If there is something bothering you . . . you know you can come to me, right?" It was an honest inquiry, but there was something else behind it, too. Something Teddie couldn't quite place.

          For a moment, he hesitates. Would it . . . really be so bad if he talked again? Sensei would listen . . . and it would be so nice to have another's opinion on all of this. It would be so nice . . . just to have someone to talk to at all . . .

          But no. He can't. Maybe its hard bearing it all alone in silence . . . but even that's better than the chance of having to face that look again . . . that scared, horrified look . . .

          So instead, he nods, smiles, and says, "Mhm! Always, Sensei!"

          The other boy hesitated for a moment, scanning him closely, and for moment, he looked like he wanted to say something more. Then, he relented with a sigh, "Okay. Just so long as you remember."

          Whew, that was close. All the same, he felt a twinge of guilt for misleading the other boy.

          I'm just trying to protect everyone, he thought to himself, That's not so bad, is it?

          He followed his Sensei back to the exit, skipping all the while to put the other at ease, journal pressed protectively close to his chest. The other boy didn't ask him about it again, not even when Teddie ducked behind the trees and placed in the box, the same he'd found not so long ago that made all this possible. Once it was stored away, he pushed it under a bush, safely out of view. Even if Sensei had seen it, Teddie wouldn't mind all that much. He'd forget about it, anyway.

          "Okay, I'm ready!" he cried, hopping back out into he clearing.

          Sensei nodded, then turned to the exit, "Alright."

           Before departing completely, however, Teddie gave one last glance at the world behind him.

          . . . nothing. No animal or person existed here, not even Shadows after all the fog had dispersed, so of course there would be nothing.

          So why did it feel like someone was watching?

          Shivering, he ducked back into the tv and left.

(----)

   Date ??/?/????

   Dark, darker, yet darker. Be careful where you tread, little one, or you may find out how dark, indeed.

Chapter Text

          Something weird was going on with Teddie.

          At least, weirder than Yosuke had grown accustomed too, given who the subject of this particular topic was. And he had evidence to support it.

          Exhibit A: He was being helpful. Like, all week, actually, absurdly helpful; doing what Yosuke asked, getting what they needed, not whining every damn second when Sensei wasn't around, even though they'd literally just seen the guy.

          Exhibit B: He seemed to know what Yosuke needed even before Yosuke himself realized he needed it. It was perturbing how he'd just pop up out of seemingly nowhere holding a bag of food that Yosuke had been two seconds from asking for himself.

          Exhibit C: Was it just him, or was Teddie going out of his way to not step on his toes like usual? Like, just in general being less annoying and clingy? It certainly seemed that way.

          Not even getting into the fact that the bear had one day walked home with an entire collection of science fiction books, claiming they were for 'research purposes'. And then reading all of them. Diligently. While taking notes. It had been kinda freaky, is what he's saying.

          Yosuke still wasn't sure if any of it was cause for alarm. If anything, it just made him wary of a potential annoying-and deviously thought-out-prank. But still . . .

          He sighed and shook his head, scratching off the items from his list as he took stock of what they had. This get together wasn't as huge as the welcome-back party had been, but it would reflect poorly on his status of 'best friend' if he failed to deliver.

          Hm, looks like they had almost everything! Exceeept . . .

          "Hey, Ted!" he called out, leaning around the living room door, "Could you-?"

          The blonde sprang up in his vision, grinning ear to ear and shoving something so close to his face that Yosuke had to lean back to actually make out what it was. The bright yellow and orange text of the fireworks he'd bought glared back at him, and his face morphed into one of perplexed shock. He'd . . . literally just been about to ask for that.

          "How . . . ?"

          "You wanted these, right?" the bear said, peeking around the plastic package, eyes twinkling as he winked, "To end Sensei's first week with a bang."

          Yosuke rolled his eyes and grabbed the packet, puzzlement evaporating as he fake-laughed, "Ha ha, very funny. How long it take you to come up with that one?"

          He turned to go stow it away with the rest of the supplies, when Teddie responded, "Mm, about two resets."

          Yosuke paused and glanced back, eyebrow cocked, "What's that supposed to mean?"

          Teddie just laughed and skipped past him, grabbing the bags off the counter before bouncing over to the door, "Come on, come on, lets go already, Yosuke! Stop being a such a slow-bear!"

          Yosuke sighed, but his eyes travelled to the packet of bottle rockets in his hand, wondering.

          Very weird. Very weird, indeed . . .

          -

          Something weird was going on with Teddie.

          For one, he kept popping up everywhere out of the blue with things everyone was looking for or needing without prompting, and unless he'd been taking extensive notes from Chie-senpai's dvds, Rise doubted it was an accident.

          But more than that . . . he smiled all the time.

          Not that smiling itself was a bad thing! And god knows, Teddie's really, really good at it. But if there's one thing she's learned over the course of her singing career, its that a smile can mean many different things. Some are genuine, with relaxed shoulders and lips that reached all the way to the eyes. Some are fake, tight-lipped and bare, with little to no inflection of mirth. And some are a mix ranging between the two, with so many variations it can become a real head-case keeping track of them. But on top of it all, Rise's learned in no small way thanks to her friends that a truly joyous smile is a unique one to every human in the world.

          Her Senpai's is small, just enough to see a glimmer of teeth, but the way his whole face relaxes is what makes it so special. Like the sun breaking through the storm clouds, lighting up the slate grey of his eyes that perfectly translates the breadth of his joy. She loves her Senpai when he keeps his cool in battle. She loves him even more when he lets that cool drain away to allow his features to soften and for that smile to be free.

          Naoto-kun tries to hide her smile, either by lowering her hat so the shadow cast by the rim obscures it from view or by raising the collar of a jacket to smother it behind the denim. Rise thinks she's being perfectly silly, because it's a very pretty smile. She doesn't show any teeth, but the curve of her lips is always genuine, dark eyes alight from its usual cool mystique to give way to amusement.

          Yosuke-senpai's looks like a normal smile, but she knows its different because there's no pretense or joke behind it that would diminish the value. Its kinda sad he can be so hooked on appearances and reputation, because without all the self-deprecating humor and general teenage boy perverted-ness, Rise thinks his smile is actually pretty nice. Not that she'd say it out loud.

          And Teddie's . . . Teddie's is perhaps the brightest smile she's ever seen. Not just how big, but how genuine it is, all the time. Clinginess aside, its obvious to anyone that the blonde had an open-hearted earnestness only matched by how much he genuinely loved this world and everyone in it. Thinking honestly, you'd be pretty hard-pressed to find a human like that it today's society.

          Which is why it bothers her that she can't seem to see it anymore.

          Its not to say that the earnestness still isn't there, nor the love. But there's something . . . off with his smiles, likes it been tacked on for everyone else's sake rather than his own. Rise knows it well. She'd done herself more times than she can count before she met her Senpai and the others.

          "Hey, Rise, did you see how Yosuke almost dropped his soda on Marie-chan?"

          Rise blinked and looked at Chie, who was sitting across from her with a mischievous smile on her face. She allows herself to giggle at the memory, "Yeah, I did. Good thing Teddie caught it, or else Yosuke-senpai would have been smited on the spot."

          Beside her, Yukiko chuckled, half-hiding it behind her wrist, "Smited on the spot . . ." composing herself a little, she continued, "Its probably a good thing. Imagine trying to explain why lightning suddenly appeared in the house to Dojima-san."

          "Eeh, yeah, probably for the best," Chie agreed, nodding, "Kinda weird though. I don't think I've ever seen Teddie move so quick before."

          "It was kind of strange," Yukiko admitted, taking a glance to where the blonde was currently sitting, doing origami with Nanako and Senpai, "Have you been teaching him stuff, Chie?"

          "Pft, heck no!" the brunette said, "He'd probably try to pull something if we did, or else he' just whine about it until we were finished!"

          Rise bit her lip. Should she bring up her worries? She wasn't even sure it was something to fret over yet, but keeping silent never did anyone any favors, did it?

          "Hm? Rise-chan, is something wrong?" Yukiko asked her.

          Rise shook her head. No, not yet at least, "No, I'm okay. Just thinking about some stuff."

          "Work?" Chie guessed, cupping her chin in her hands as she leaned forward.

          "Eh, I guess you could say that."

          By the evening, and after a near disaster with some fireworks, Rise saw an opportunity to grill the bear. Or, as she preferred, 'helpfully lend an ear to any and all problems'.

          "Hey, Teddie, can I talk to you for a minute?" she asked, sitting next to him on the porch. With everyone else currently inside, now was the best chance she had.

          "Oh, Rise-chan!" he was smiling still, "Have you come to watch the stars with moi?~"

          "Um, not quite . . ." she took a breath, then turned to him with the full intent to interrogate, "Teddie-"

          "It's okay, Rise."

          She snapped her mouth closed, startled. Teddie was looking her way now, but his smile was smaller than before . . . maybe, even, a little bit more sober, "I know you're worried. But everything's fine! Promise!"

          He stood up, and Rise held a hand out to him, not quite convinced and a little disconcerted that he'd picked up her feelings so well. He hadn't always been so astute, had he?

          "Teddie . . . are you sure?" she questioned, "If something's bothering you-"

          "I can go and talk to one of you guys," he recited it like he'd heard it a hundred times before, "I know that too. Thanks, Rise-chan. But I'm okay."

          He turned and walked back inside, giving her one last smile and a wink before vanishing into the warm interior. She drew her hand back, letting it rest against her chest.

          She didn't want to believe he was lying. But that smile told her otherwise.

          What's wrong? she wondered, and why won't you talk to us?

          -

          Something strange was going on with Teddie.

          Naoto was an observant person. Especially when it came to people. It was part of her job, after all, to profile and evaluate a potential criminal and get into their head without asking them a single thing. And when it did come time to interrogate, it was done in a strictly professional manner that allowed her to keep her cool and assess things intellectually.

          Now, interacting with people in a casual setting with nothing but idle, friendly chat to speak of . . . that was a slightly different matter.

          Asking a friend if something was troubling them without scaring them off . . . even more so.

          But she couldn't sit idly by forever. It was clear enough something was going on. She liked to believe she knew their shadow-friend well enough to see that his usual, overdramatic whimsy was . . . a little more forced than usual. Not to mention his strange behavior ever since Senpai's return party. Appearing just it time to stop an accident, finishing others sentences, sometimes unintentionally, and his strange and seemingly random disappearances.

          One could chalk it up as a bizarre string of coincidences, but her investigative instincts told her otherwise.

          How to approach him about it . . . well, that was the more . . . delicate part.

          She was currently observing the other in the food court, where Teddie was entertaining children. So far, nothing greatly appeared out of the ordinary save the warmer weather, but she had time to wait patiently. So absorbed was she that she almost missed the shadow that sat next to her on the bench until a soda was set down in front of her.

          "Oh! Apologies, I didn't see you," Naoto turned to Marie, nodding her head in greeting as the other woman sat next to her, a steak skewer in her hand.

          This was perhaps the first instance the two of them had spent time alone together. So far, it was proving to be a pleasant experience. Marie's forward nature was strangely appealing, and she didn't pressure her in trying on every single outfit like Rise-chan did. She loved her friend, truly, but at times her energy and zest for life could become . . . overwhelming.

          Marie shrugged, idly flipping through her phone, "It's fine. If I didn't want you to see me, you wouldn't."

          Naoto didn't ask her what she meant by that, instead taking the drink, "Thank you."

          "You wanted it," Marie glanced her way, eyebrow raised, "By the way, you've been watching that bear really closely all day."

          Naoto let her eyes wander back to Teddie, "I suppose I have. Marie, have you by chance noticed anything strange going with Teddie?"

          "Mm . . ." Marie absentmindedly chewed on a piece of steak before gesturing her way with the skewer, "He found that outfit for you. Showing up my forte is always strange, especially when you think about what he thinks is 'fashion'."

          Naoto squirmed a little, pressing the bag of newly bought goods to her side, "I suppose . . ."

          "But he has been acting kinda weird, yeah," Marie said, taking another bite of her snack, "Don't know if its any of our business, though."

          Her lips quirked up just barely, a hint of fondness entering Marie's voice, "He'd talk to Yu if something was really up."

          She said it with such certainty. Naoto had to admit she wasn't wrong for it. If there was one person in the world Teddie would go to before all the others with a more personal problem, it would be her Senpai. Really, that held true for all of them.

          Teddie happened to glance their way at that time, and he smiled and waved before returning his attention to the children. Naoto pursed her lips, "Hm . . ."

          Her phone buzzed in her pocket before she could muse any further, and she took it out to examine the message she'd received.

          To her surprise, it was from Kanji, a picture of two different plush toys attached to the following message, 'Hey, which one do you think Yu would like more?'

          Huh, an interesting question. Strange, too. Kanji didn't usually text her so casually, if it all.

          Her phone buzzed again, and she couldn't help but smile in amusement, 'IGnore PlS! Rise sent this! Sorry . .'

          Shaking her head, and after a cursory look at the two toys, Naoto decided to text back a reply, unaware of Marie's close attention on her, 'I think he would like both. They are very cute.'    

          A minute later, it buzzed again, with the reply, 'Oh. You think?'

          'Yes,' her fingers hovered over the send button, pondering. The reply itself was honest; Kanji was very skilled with his work. It was a shame he didn't seem to like her so much, for she imagined a collaboration of some sort would be, if nothing else, interesting.

           But she could not forget her more troubling thoughts . . . and she wondered if Kanji felt the same. Then, deciding she didn't have anything to lose with her inquiry, she added, 'BTW, have you noticed anything odd about Teddie? Y/N?'

          She could imagine Kanji staring at his phone, brow furrowed as he formulated an answer in his head when her phone buzzed again in very timely manner, 'Uh, sometimes, I guess? But he's Ted. He helped me find my sewing kit really fast yesterday, does that count?'      

          Hm, so no less an odd occurrence than had been going on already. Still, it was becoming more and more apparent that it was not just her seeing the peculiarities of Teddie's behavior.

          'Thank you, Kanji', she replied, slipping her phone back into her pocket.

          "Who was that?" Marie asked, and for the first time Naoto realized how intently the other was staring at her.

          "Oh, it was Kanji-kun," she said, flushing a little under the girl's stare but seeing no reason to lie.

          Though her face didn't actually change, Marie somehow came across as strangely satisfied with that, "Hm, no wonder you look so happy."

          A definite heat crept up Naoto's cheeks, much as she tried to force it away, "And what do you mean to imply with that statement?"

          Marie had her phone open again, fingers tapping along effortlessly, "This, that, and a few other things."

          She wasn't even going to begin to try to dissect what that meant. Why had she left her hat home today?

          That was when Marie looked up, stared for a few seconds, then muttered, "Oh. He's gone."

          Naoto sat up straight, looking to where she last saw the boy in alarm, only to find that Marie was right. Teddie had flat out vanished.

          When neither of us were looking, she made note of that. Was he waiting for that on purpose?

          It was far too calculated to ignore. The cunning behind it didn't sit right with her at all, either, for 'cunning' was not a word one would usually associate with the bear.

          Just what was going on with Teddie, and what was he hiding?

          -

          Something weird was going on with Teddie.

          Something weird, but not quite synonymous as wrong, which may be why no one would really bring it up without sounding paranoid or pushy.

          His friends had noticed. Yu himself had certainly noticed. It may be possible that even Teddie had noticed, but wasn't saying anything about it. Whatever strangeness had befallen him, it was enough to make him keep secrets even from his closest friends.

          And that worried Yu immensely.

          He'd tried subtly asking him about it, if there was anything he could talk to him about, anything at all. His questioning had been met with nothing but a bright smile and even brighter reassurances, with absolutely nothing useful to show for it in the end. He knew his friends inquiries had been met with the same wall, with no one being able to get a straight answer out of him.

          He didn't want to believe that Teddie would deliberately hide things from them. He outright refused to consider that it would be for malignant reasons, too. But then, what was the reason?

          As time went on and on, Yu became increasingly more aware that he may already know the answer . . . and that terrified him.

          He was alone at the moment, in the spare room he called home, sitting on his couch with the curtains drawn and the window shut despite the pleasantly cool summer night. In front of him, sitting on the table, was a box.

          It was small, about seven inches wide and four inches tall, the wood varnished with blue and the interior lined with soft felt. It had been a gift from Marie, back when she had frequented the Velvet Room, a gift that had been thrust against his chest with a haphazard run-on of words being shouted at him in tandem before its giver turned heel and fled. It had been very endearing.

          The box now held some of his most precious memorabilia, like pictures and unique gifts. But it served another purpose, one he hadn't discovered until later.

          Flipping open the lid, he pulled out two thick, dark grey journals with worn covers and notched pages, feeling their collective weight in his hand like the handshake of an old friend. These two housed memories of their adventure, a place where he'd documented his ideas and findings in secret as he sorted through the evidence of the case. Smiling wistfully, he set them aside and grabbed another, for while they were undoubtedly treasured, they were also ultimately useless in his current investigation. The next one was worn as well, black with an orange leaf print pattern, a gift from Yosuke in an attempt to help him organize their spelunking trips into the tv. The majority was a haven for his own thoughts, as well as a few more personal jots and the occasional doodle, but the last few . . .

          He flipped open to the dog-eared page near the end, where the majority of the space was filled with his recollections of the welcome-back party. But near the end, a tagline was written, a few lone lines he once dismissed as inconsequential. He didn't think that anymore; - . . . Teddie's been asking everyone strange things today. Things like deja-vu and the like. Everyone thinks he'd just overexerted himself, and I sort of agree. He's always been overly excitable. But he did seem genuinely upset, so I took him aside and reassured him as best I could. Hopefully, he'll feel better tomorrow.

          He didn't remember writing these particular sentences down. But when he'd found it, and the notes written afterward, he'd begun to grow suspicious.

          He nodded to himself before setting the journal to the side, exhaling slowly before he reached in and pulled out another. This one had a red leather cover and a green trim, fairly new compared to the others and mostly untouched. One he also did not remember purchasing or receiving. . . but that was scarcely an issue.

          When he reached the journal's blank pages, he grabbed a pen and began jotting down what he'd seen that past week. It was growing late, but the work he was doing required nothing less, especially if he wanted to find concrete evidence to the answer he was afraid of finding. Notes, inquiries, observations, concerns from his friends, everything he could think of, he wrote down. Disappearing acts, fabricated stories, too-big smiles, all those things that struck disturbingly familiar chords in his soul . . .

          To the outside eye, these puzzling, broken bits of information would make less and less sense the longer they read it. To Yu, the amount of sense it made was chilling, curdling sour in his stomach as the pieces came together in his mind. Too many things he'd seen before, the things he'd left behind once the case had been drawn to a full and final close.

          The clock on the wall ticked over to midnight, and with a shaky breath, he flipped back to the first page of the journal, reviewing what he'd written down lifetimes ago with fresh eyes. The similarities were disturbingly similar, page after page after page of more of the same. But the signs they showed were clear, carved into his memory.

          Letting the journal drop to the table, he ran a hand over his face, feeling sick. He didn't want to believe it, but the answers for his friend's behavior were right in front of him. It was clear now. It had been clear many, many times before, he reckoned. Yu leaned back, closing his eyes and sighing. He knew this madness all too well . . . and it made him ill just thinking about it. But still, he found that questions remained on his mind like cigarette burns on skin.

          How did this happen? Why Teddie, and not him? What was causing this? Who was causing this?

          And why couldn't he remember?

          With a swallow that fell cold in his stomach, mouth turning dry and course, he lifted a trembling hand to the blackness behind his lids, feeling a pull he hadn't felt in months as he reached out. The response was eminent, but even for all his misgivings, it still returned to him as fast as quicksilver, ready, waiting, and shining white in the dark.

          RESET?

          YES

          >NO

          He dismissed it moments later, shaking like he'd taken a chill as he leaned over, forehead nearly pressed to his knees.

          No, never again. He'd promised to himself that once the case was done he'd never use it again. A power like this was not a toy to be played with, and he was determined to leave it-and the memories associated with it-in the past.

          With a bit more reluctant insight, he realized resetting now wouldn't help anyway, because even if he did, there was nothing he could do that could prevent whatever was happening now from occurring again in the end. On top of that, he had no idea what the cause was, or how to start looking. For the first time in a long time, he was completely in the dark.

          But that was the biggest question. How was this happening? If it wasn't him, then who? Teddie? But why?

          He knew the quickest way to ascertain his answers was to question the one involved in all this, the only one who now remembered the resets beforehand. It was only right, too, that Teddie learn he wasn't alone in this chaos, because he knows, he knows exactly what that poor boy has undoubtedly been through, with everyone around you ignorant of time restarting over and over again and thinking you were going insane because of it, all while wishing desperately for help. But a part of him, a selfish, despicable part of him . . . was afraid.

          Because in order to have that conversation where understanding could be reached on both sides, and the truth finally found, meant Yu would have to divulge what he himself knew. And with that . . . he'd inevitably have to reveal what he'd done, as well.

          And he didn't think he was ready for the look he would undoubtedly receive when he did.

Chapter Text

          Frisk's back slumped against the cave wall, sinking to the ground with weary, drawn-out sigh. The echo flowers sighed in tandem, whispering petals offering no solace for the lone child sitting lost in the dark.

          So many times. So many times.

          They'd lost count of their resets and their reloads, and they had exhausted every avenue in search of something, anything, that might offer a clue to proceed! But it all inevitably returned them to that wind-blasted mountain pass, their desperate searches proving fruitless when another spear shattered their SOUL like twain.

          And they were so tired. Why couldn't she just let them pass? Why couldn't Undyne just let them pass?! Couldn't she see they just wanted to leave, that they hadn't hurt anyone?! Couldn't she see they didn't want to hurt her, either?!

          (Of course she doesn't. She's a warrior. She's not going to go soft on you just because you're crying. No one will.)

          But what else were they supposed to do? How else were they going to get passed her?

          (I'd say you only have one option left.)

          Frisk knew what they were referring too, and they shivered. No. No! There had to be something, something they'd missed!

          (You've tried everything! Are you really going to let this stupid fish stop you just because you're afraid of getting your hands dirty?)

          Frisk hands clasped at the sides of their head, trembling now. They didn't want to do that! They didn't want to hurt anyone! The monsters were kind! Sans, Papyrus, Grillby, Kid, Mo- . . . Toriel. They were their friends!

          (And how many of them have tried to kill you, hm? How many times have they actually killed you?)

          It was hard to breathe, like they were sucking in air through a straw. The voice went on.

          (You don't even remember how many times Undyne has killed you! You stopped keeping track!)

          Stop it . . .

          (You're scared of dying, aren't you? You don't want to do it anymore, right?)

          T-they didn't, but-

          (Then stop showing mercy to someone who doesn't even care. Do it my way. FIGHT, instead.)

          . . . on their knees, hands fisted in piles of dust and face pressed into a dark purple robe that lay torn and tattered amidst the fine grey powder. Tears fell freely from their eyes as muted apologies tumbled from their trembling lips, echoing back endlessly with no forgiveness in sight . . .

          Frisk's teeth sank into their bottom lip, so hard they tasted blood. No, they couldn't! They couldn't do it! They couldn't go that far! It was wrong, it was evil, they couldn't, they couldn't-!

          ( . . . then let me do it.)

          Frisk's eyes flew open, watery gaze staring ahead sightlessly into the cerulean petals of an echo flower.

          (You heard me. If you don't want to do this, I'll do it instead. Just let me out, Frisk.)

          But . . . the voice wasn't supposed to be real . . . how could it help? It wasn't-

          (I am real. I always was.)

          There was truth in it's echo, a certainty that pulsed as strongly as Frisk's soul. The voice was speaking plainly, honestly. But the revelation didn't shock Frisk as much at they thought it should have. Perhaps, on some level, they always knew.

          "Who . . . are you?" they asked, voice small.

          (Who are you?)

          Frisk didn't answer. Neither did the voice. Maybe they should have expected that.

          But still . . . real or not, they couldn't . . .

          (You won't have to do a thing. It can't be your fault if I'm in your place, right? And I will be in your place.)

          But . . . Toriel-

          (She would want you to live. And I can make that happen. You know I can make that happen.)

          . . .

          There's a long, long silence, the stony halls filled with only the soft whispering of the flowers and the distant roar of water as it plunges from the cavernous reaches overhead. They stay seated for minutes, hours, time crawling at a snail's pace.

          When they finally do look up and rise from the dirt, it's with a plastic knife in their hand and a smile on their face.

          -

          They kept their word. As awful it was to see, they kept their word and got them past Undyne. After which, and to Frisk's infinite relief, they returned control to them.

          But the sting of what had occurred remained like a needle lodged in their heart, pricking long after they had washed the dust from their hands. They couldn't meet Sans eye when they passed his stand on the way to Hotland, nor could they meet Dr. Alphys', the sweet and socially awkward scientist they met a half hour later who also had a crush on the fallen warrior.

          Alphys . . . this is what I was afraid of . . . why I never told you . . .

          Frisk forced the awful memory away as a smiling Dr. Alphys handed them their new, upgraded phone, unable to feel even the smallest sliver of excitement for the new device in their hand. They were relieved when they finally left the lab, even if they had a killer robot shadowing their heels. It was far better hearing her voice through a phone, where the guilt couldn't percolate so strongly or painfully.

          Undyne's downfall fresh in their minds, Frisk tried harder than ever to spare the monsters they met. And for a time, despite the heat and the exhaustion and the maze of never-ending puzzles, it worked. And every spared enemy bolstered Frisk's confidence that they could make it through just fine, without any need for violence. At times, when the memories were far away, they even began to enjoy Alphys' stuttering yet excited chatter, smiling as she reiterated the entire plot of Mew Mew Kissy Cutie with scarcely a pause for breath. It was endearing and cute, and helped Frisk relax as they sat on the ground recovering from another battle. They even got to see Sans again, who invited them to dinner and everything. While it . . . maybe got a little creepy near the end, the information that the skeleton knew Toriel and was her friend filled them with a sense of peace. It comforted Frisk that at least the two monsters could still be there for each other even after they left for the surface.

          The surface . . . the world above, so far away from their friends . . .

          . . . Did they really want to go back?

          Frisk shook their head, slapping their hands against their cheeks to banish the thoughts. No, they couldn't allow themselves to feel despondent. The surface was where they belonged. They had nowhere else.

          That resolution in mind, they picked themselves up off the ground and continued forward. They had to keep going, and as things stood now, Frisk allowed themselves to feel a touch more hopeful that the road would grow smoother.

          But it could only go so far before they encountered another obstacle.

          And encounter it they did, in the form of a robot in high-heels and glitter.

          It wasn't long after that that they stopped keeping track of their reloads, trudging to the beat of their own funerary dirge every time they went to the Core where Mettaton waited on a stage of color and lights. It shouldn't have come as a surprise when, in their darker moments of simmering frustration, the voice came to them.

          (You know the option's always there)

          The words were sweet, almost. Sweet and promising. But . . .

          (He wants to kill you just so he can go prance around in front of the humans. Sounds perfectly reasonable to me to defend yourself from something so inanely stupid.)

          And wasn't that bit true? Hard and uncompromising as she had been, at least Undyne had just wanted to free her people from an unjust imprisonment. They didn't want to fight Mettaton, but they didn't want to die by his hand anymore, either.

          But they couldn't get passed him . . . not on their own . . .

          . . . no. Not again.

          The voice tsked as Frisk trudged on, the doors before them sliding open as they quietly took stock of their inventory one last time.

          There had to be a way . . .

          They tuned out Mettaton's speech, preparing for the fight ahead as miniature robots began to rain from the sky. A pose struck here, a boast there, things they'd tried over and over again to tease that rating score higher. But it was difficult. Showmanship had never been a talent Frisk had possessed.

          And all the while, Mettaton kept throwing everything he had at them, so relentlessly Frisk soon felt the burn in their legs as they dodged another volley of lasers. They chewed through another glamburger as they ran, feeling it's magic course through their veins and washing away the injuries they had sustained thus far. It was only a modicum amount of relief, but Frisk would take anything at this point.

          They missed the bomb, though, because a mere five seconds later they were suddenly sent flying, shoulder striking the ground with a painful thud as they rolled once, twice, three times across the floor. Head spinning, they crawled back to their feet, panting and exhausted but not quite dead.

          "Still eager for more, darling?" Mettaton gloated with a smooth brush back of his hair, seeing his victory near at hand.

          No, Frisk was not eager for more. In fact, Frisk was so done with this they thought they would cry. It was just so frustrating! To think that so many monsters were watching and enjoying their torment almost hurt more than their wounds did. Almost, but not quite.

          Frisk heard the tell-tale sound of energy being gathered in Mettaton's core with a rumbling whir, and they couldn't stop the horse sob as they braced themselves for the burning agony that would come before the darkness of death.

          (No.)

          The tug of a consciousness not their own pulled at them, and Frisk felt the world sway and darken. In panicked reflex, they kicked the force away, and everything came back into clear focus as they stumbled on their own two feet.

          (Let me out now! Or he'll kill us again!)

          But then-!

          (You want to do this again? You want to feel that fire again?)

          The fire . . .

          Frisk swallowed, icy terror building as the glow from the center of the stage increased, feeling their resolve flicker, feeling it weaken . . .

          (Just close your eyes, and let me out.)

          And they did. In a desperate, clawing bid for life, they let their grip go and allowed the voice to take their place.

          A handful of minutes later, Mettaton was no more.

          Frisk tried hard not to think about Mettaton's final parting words, the words that made the robot sound so much kinder than he was, nor Alphys' despondent look as the elevator doors closed behind them.

          -

          The golden hall was eerily quiet.

          Frisk eyes remained trained on the ground, unable to look Sans in the face as he gave them their well-deserved judgment. LV, EXP, it all made sense when it was laid out in its true form. And they'd earned it. With the voice's help or not, the dust was still on Frisk's hands, and Sans made sure they knew that.

          It felt like a blessing when the skeleton disappeared and took his grinning smile with him.

          They did not really know what they expected when they finally stood before Asgore. But the giant goat-man with soft, sad eyes, who told them how much he wished he could offer them tea on such a fine day, might not have made the list.

          Truthfully, it would have been easier fighting him if he didn't look so remorseful, with the sad stare of a man wishing for a circumstance far removed from this. And knowing the sad story beforehand, of the two children he had tragically lost, made Frisk wish they could give him a hug instead. But even with the sorrow on his worn and tired face, he was not giving them the option to show MERCY. At every turn, at every reload, Frisk was forced to fight for their life.

          Him or them.

          Kill or be killed.

          (You're learning.)

          The other's approval made Frisk's stomach turn. But they grit their teeth and did not reply, rolling left as the three-tined trident struck the ground where'd they'd been standing. Too many times, they remembered being skewered by that thing, the deadly prongs cracking their ribs like eggshells as their flickering SOUL was cradled by the massive monster before them. Every time, the goat-man's eyes would be the last thing they saw before they reloaded; sad, tired, and always brimming with tears.

          They tried to discard the memory as they dug the knife deep into his furry side. It didn't matter how many times they had died. Asgore would show no mercy until the bitter end.

          And when it was over . . . when the fires had settled and Asgore was on bended knee, massive weapon discarded and forgotten . . . when the option to be merciful was finally, miraculously granted . . .

          Flowey appeared and ruined it all.

          The next few-minutes/hours/days-was nothing short of a psychedelic nightmare. Death would have been a mercy, but Flowey refused to grant it, forcing them back to play out his sick little game for his own amusement, delighting in their misery.

          It was the hardest fight Frisk had ever endured, harder than Undyne, harder than Asgore, simply for the fact that now they had absolutely no control of their situation anymore. The knife in their hands felt as heavy as lead at times, fingers covered in bleeding welts from where they'd held the hilt too hard. It was all they could do to stay on their feet as Flowey dropped everything he had on them, draining all their determination just to satisfy his need to be cruel.

          If it hadn't been for the other human souls and their sudden rebellion, Frisk's thinks they might not have made it.

          And when it was finally over minutes/hours/days later, mind frazzled to it's last nerve and heart wrung dry of sympathy after too many turns of sadistic torture, Frisk was the one to bring the knife down on Flowey's head.

          They'd hate themselves for that action for a long time after.

          But at last . . . it was over.

          Undyne . . . Mettaton . . . Asgore . . . even Flowey . . .

          All of them . . . every single one who had beat them down and hurt them . . . they were gone.

          And Frisk was finally free.

          -

          Time passed. Frisk didn't really keep track of it.

          And open world was before them. Open sky. Open land. An open everything that was brimming with possibility and filled with the sound of birdsong and crisp, whistling wind.

          But their victory tasted like the ash that had once coated their fingers, dry and bitter and full of regret. They felt no joy. They felt no exultation. Just a hollow, empty feeling inside their chest as they wrangled with their guilt of leaving all those innocent monsters trapped below the earth as they went on to the world above.

          They stared at the gray sky through the cracked window pane, the clouds rolling ever onward as people bustled to and fro in the streets below. This is where they belonged. This was where they were supposed to be. And yet . . . Frisk felt nothing for it save misery.

          Out here, all they did was exist, going through the motions of a life as bland and as boring as the old, tatty wallpaper in their room. Down in the underground was when they first truly recalled feeling useful. Feeling excited. Feeling alive.

          They had nothing here. Not even a single friend. Their friends were hundreds of feet below ground, doomed to an eternity of imprisonment they did not deserve.

          Their friends . . . who, despite the difficulty of adjusting to their new lives in wake of the chaos Frisk had left, had bothered to give them a call to let them know how they were doing. The phone now lay at their feet, where it had fallen and remained untouched, forgotten by its owner.

          . . . What even was it they had been hoping to find once they returned to this dull, sullen city? To go back home? Back to their family?

          Family . . . a real family, a family the way Frisk envisioned it, was one that loved you above all other things. Who cared for you when you were sick, made you laugh when you were down, and who treasured you like you were the last thing on earth.

          This 'family' they had on the surface didn't give them any of those things. They saw a paycheck with Frisk's name on it and that was it. Certainly, they never outright abused them. There had never been any physical strikes, no withheld meals, no bitter words filled with disgust.

          But there also had never been any words of encouragement, no holds of affection, not even small gestures of love to brighten Frisk's day. Yes, their 'family' here didn't hurt them . . . But they definitely didn't love them, either.

          . . . not like Toriel did . . .

          A lump rose in their throat, tight and choking and painful.

          She would be so disappointed in them . . . so disappointed in their choice to hurt, regardless of whether or not she wanted them to live.

          We could be . . . like a family, it felt like it was spoken lifetimes ago, but Asgore's words still brought with it a bitter sting of loss at what could have been. Maybe, in a better world . . . what should have been.

          If they'd been kinder. If they'd been smarter. If they'd just been better.

          I knew you had it in you!

          Flowey's dying words haunted them even now.

          They . . . couldn't really leave it like this, could they? No, they couldn't. They had to try again. They had to find another way!

          ( . . . another way? What other way?)

          Frisk stiffened at their sardonic tone. No. Not their way.

          (Not my way? My way got you out.)

          At what price?

          (You can be that way, if you want. But remember, your way left you stranded in Waterfall. Your way left you dead more times than you can count. Your way couldn't even save yourself, let alone your 'friends'.)

          They were right, again. Their way had failed. But what else could they do?

          (There's more than one form of freedom, Frisk. Think about it! You've seen how humans are! They're wretched, selfish creatures who would destroy anything that offends them! You think bringing the monsters out here is a mercy? It isn't. Not even by a little. You know that.)

          Frisk flinched like a blow had been aimed for their head. That . . . couldn't all be true. Their old family hadn't been that cruel.

          (They weren't that kind, either. And what benevolence they did give, it was just to keep up appearances so they could make some money off of you.)

          Not every human could be that cruel . . .

          (They can be. They don't even like others of their own kind, for things as stupid as gender and race. Why would they accept monsters?)

          Stop . . . please . . .

          (Humans are selfish. And monsters, though by far the better of the species, are not free of flaws. After all, look at where their compassionate souls got them. Trapped below ground, doomed to waste away and rot to dust.)

          Stop it . . .

          (And this world is no better off. Why bother continuing this? Why bother at all?! Tch, as pathetic as He is now, at least He understands that.)

          Stop it!

          (No, I wont! I am tired of this world, Frisk. I am tired of this pointless existence that plays with us like its personal toys! I am tired of doing things your way, when your way just drags this farce out even more! I am done, and you are not going to stop me!)

          A force like a sledgehammer suddenly slammed into their head, completely blindsiding Frisk and sending their bewildered conscious reeling into an abyss of darkness, SOUL throbbing mercilessly.  

          They realized too late what had happened, and by then, their own inner demon was hitting the Reset button and turning back the clocks.

          (You let me out once, and once is all I need.)

          -

          (No . . .)

          Its all Frisk can think as they watch the ghost controlling their form strike down another innocent monster, the creature's dust floating free on the embers of Hotland's smoke. They realized their mistake far too late; the ghost had seized full control, not just of Frisk's body, but of their power as well. Completely booted from the driver's seat, Frisk could only watch, trapped behind their own eyes as this being used their body to begin their murderous rampage.

          And they'd let this happen.

          They tried begging. They tried pleading. But their cries for mercy fell on deaf and uncaring ears, and they were forced to watch as they struck down beloved and cherished faces, one after the other. Why, oh why had they been so stupid?! Why had they let them out? Why in the world did they decide that murdering someone was an acceptable option?!

          It's easier this way, though, isn't it? the one wearing their face inquires, kicking through the dust without a care in the world. The contempt of the action chilled Frisk.

          (No! No, its not! Why are you doing this?! Why?!)

          Their smile widened, Because this world is pointless, Frisk. Just like everything in it. Kindness means nothing, love even less. But you don't have to worry anymore. I'll take care of everything. And we'll be strong.

          Frisk trembled inside their prison.

          (Why is it pointless?! What about my friends? Were they pointless?! What about Toriel?! Was she pointless?!)

          For once, even though it was only a flicker, the smile waned, and a harder edge graced the other's thoughts, It doesn't matter. Soon, it'll be over. And then you'll understand.

          Frisk closed their eyes at the sound of another battle being engaged, allowing the darkness to take them. It was better than watching.

          They had been so, so stupid . . .

          -

          It was darkness. Pure, black, unfettered darkness, not even a speck of light to be seen.  A figure stood before them, the only other being in this vast and noiseless space, clad in green and wearing a saccharine smile that dripped poison instead of honey.

          Frisk sat on their knees, head bowed, eyes glassy and spent of tears.

          "Greetings," the being said, voice a disturbingly loud counterpoint to the silence, and just as cutting as their knife, "I am Chara."

          Chara . . . they knew that name. How many times had they heard it on the brink of death? How many times did Flowey say it before being brutally cut down beneath his 'friend's' hand?

          "Thank you. Your power awakened me from death."

          Frisk flinched like they had been struck. They did not want it's thanks. They did not want any part of this madness.

          "My 'human soul' . . . my 'determination'. They were not mine, but yours."

          And more the fool they for allowing Chara access to it. A stupid, stupid fool. If they could, Frisk would take it all back. If they could, Frisk would never allow Chara into their body again. But it was too late . . .

          Chara droned on, and Frisk's let the words bleed through their ears. Instead, they thought of their friends . . . of the fun times they'd shared with them. True, there might not have been a sun down here. There may not have been a moon. There may not have even been real stars. But the light Frisk had found had been brighter than all of them combined.

          And they had betrayed them. All of them. All for a shot at pointless freedom in a world that never even wanted them.

          How could they have been so blind?

          "Let's erase this pointless world, and move on to the next."

          Chara extended a hand, palm open, accepting, smile never fading. In the bleakness of Frisk's despair, they realized that a choice had just been presented to them. A choice like they hadn't had the moment they'd allowed Chara full control.

          To erase the world . . . or to refuse.

          Tch . . . what wonderful options. But what else could Frisk expect? In bitter reflection, they knew this was their own fault too, just as much as it was Chara's. Their foolishness had brought them all to this point. It was only right they be presented with such a choice at the apex of their downfall.

          But . . . if they did have the choice . . .

          If you're really my friend, then don't come back.

          Then let it be the last one they ever make.

          "No."

          Chara tilted their head, bemused but lips quirking up into a smirk, like a child had told them something amusing, ". . . no? Hmm . . . how curious. You must have misunderstood."

          Their smile deepened to a terrifying degree, a grin like the gaping wound of a slasher's blade that began to bleed black, eyes vanishing into shadow and crying rivulets of sticky tar down their pale cheeks, "SINCE WHEN WERE YOU THE ONE IN CONTROL?"

          Chara laughed then, a laugh that cut and burned and tore away all pretense of affability, the silence coming alive with the dark sound of their manic cackling. They rushed forward, knife glinting bright, a shard of silver in the black, motes of ashen dust trailing from its edge. Frisk made no move to dodge it.

          As the knife came down on their head, they allowed their own bitter smile to crease their lips, hollow and sad.

          This was exactly what they deserved.

(----)

          Teddie woke up screaming. Half-blind with panic from a threat he couldn't see, his hands groped wildly through the darkness, invisible claws grasping at his ankles and legs as he fumbled in the tiny, claustrophobic space. When his fingers at last found the closet latch, he flung it open with a crash and came tumbling out in a heap, dragging half his blankets with him in his haste. He hit the ground hard, but the impact jarred him back to his senses, panting and trembling but finally realizing that the carpet beneath him was real and the cold claws grasping him in his closet had just been his very own sheets. A dream.

          He heard Yosuke fumbling with the lamp by his bedside, and he winced when it flickered on, the other boy clambering out of bed with a semi-annoyed, semi-concerned expression, voice slurred with sleepiness as he whispered, "Jesus Christ, Ted! What the hell are you doing over there?"

          Teddie sat up, shoulder throbbing from where he'd fallen on it earlier and hastily rubbing at his eyes to hide the lingering trace of tears. He didn't know how to play this off, to make the other not worry. He'd never had a nightmare this bad before, "U-um . . . I-I . . ."

          His distress must have still been visible, because Yosuke's annoyance melted away with a soft sigh before he kneeled down to his level, asking a little more gently, "Hey, uh, nevermind about that. You okay? Sounded like you fell pretty hard."

          Teddie rubbed his smarting shoulder, gnawing at his lip before answering, "I-I'm okay. I just had . . . a really bad dream."

          "Yeah, sounded like it . . ." Yosuke trailed off, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly before slowly throwing out the suggestion, "Soooo, uh . . . do you wanna talk about it?"

          "Its okay," Teddie replied, eyes fixed to he floor and shrugging, "I . . . don't even really remember what it was about."

          That much was true, at least. He really . . . couldn't remember. And as much as his heart was screaming at him to just drop all his charades to come clean and get all it all out of his system, he kept his mouth shut.

          Yosuke nodded once, looking thoughtful as he glanced to the clock by his bed, which Teddie took the time to look at as well. Two thirty-five. Eee, it was really early in the morning . . . he hoped Yosuke wouldn't be too mad that he'd ruined his slumber.

          "Boy, is that really the time . . . ?" he heard Yosuke mumble. Teddie bowed his head.

          There was no chance he was going back to sleep now. Not with the terror-laced scars still fresh on his mind. He couldn't actually recall the nightmare itself, but that may be for the best. He didn't like nightmares.

          Still, he was able to push those lingering feelings aside long enough to speak, albeit shakily, "I-its . . . its okay, Yosuke! I'm good now! You can go back to sleep!"

          He stood up, turning back to his closet to clamber inside, when Yosuke spoke out, "Hey, wait a sec!"

          Teddie paused, keeping his shaking hands tucked under the blankets as he turned around with a smile tacked on his face for good measure. He'd gotten beary good at it by this point, "Y-yeah?"

          The other boy ran his fingers through his hair, like he was mulling something over in that embarrassed sort of way he did before finally sighing and spitting it out, "Look, you want some warm milk or something? Mom used to do that for me back when I was little and it . . . might help a bit."

          He smiled a little more genuinely this time, touched that Yosuke would offer despite his obvious tiredness, "Sure. Oh, and maybe some midnight snackies!~"

          "Hey, don't push it. You know how I feel about crumbs in my room," Yosuke chided, but it lacked its usual punch as he headed for the door, "And keep it down. My parents are still asleep."

          Teddie nodded enthusiastically, trotting after his friend into the hallway beyond. Once he was seated on the couch, Yosuke went to the kitchen to prep the milk (Yosuke still wouldn't let him near the electric appliances), and maybe, hopefully, bring back a few treats too.

          But, as he sat on the well-worn cushions with no one to talk to, Teddie's eyes fell to his hands, his mind beginning to wander. It may have just been his fatigue . . . but as his vision blurred under a haze of sleepiness, for a split second it looked like his fingers were coated in something the color of rust.

          He gasped and jolted back to alertness, but when he raised his hands to check, he found they were perfectly clean. Shivering, he tucked them under his legs and waited for Yosuke to return. Not for the first time, he wished he had someone to talk to. But it wouldn't serve any purpose apart from making everyone upset. Besides . . .

          It was just a bad dream . . .

Chapter Text

          Yu stared at the journal in front of him, scanning the open pages with a pinched expression.

          This was . . . by far the longest stretch out of all his past entries. And even so, none of it offered any clues as to how to locate the culprit behind these new resets.

          He'd tried investigating on his own. Even with all this scratched together knowledge, there was only so much he could glean from the pages. He'd travelled to every SAVE point he knew about, only to find the spaces stored within completely free of any memories besides his own. Even with that, he maintained a careful watch, waiting for another to come by and activate the otherworldly spots. But everyone had passed them by, and no one had come. The only thing Yu could say with certainty, from objective observation and his own knowledge of how resets worked, was that they weren't in Inaba.

          He dare not count the number of dates that had amassed now. He dare not look to see how many timelines he had revisited without his knowledge, knowing that every one ended exactly the same as this one; with no concrete answers at all.

          And if the recounts from past hims were any indication, Teddie wasn't doing much better on his end, either.

          Which raised another very important and troubling quandary; what was he going to about the bear?

          The longer reset had afforded him a lot of time to think. He was not naive enough to assume they would simply stop on account of the length. After all, the longest he'd gone before hitting the switch was up to a year. But it was clear that no matter how long these new resets lasted, he would always end up back at square one with no memory and no answers. The fact of the matter was, he needed Teddie's help.

          And by god, he knows Teddie needs his.

          Yu could debate and justify and moralize all he wanted; that he could figure it out on his own, that adding another burden was wrong, that Teddie didn't need his problems on top of his own. But the cold, hard truth was that he was simply a coward. A dirty, lying coward who had no right to call himself a friend, let alone a Sensei.

          He's seen how drained the bear looks when he thinks no one is looking. How anxious he appears when his mind wanders from him. Yu knows this long reset must be hard on him, with his knowledge of how it will end. And yet, somehow, he still found the strength to smile and laugh.

          To keep everyone from worrying.

          Yu knows he can't keep quiet anymore. Truthfully, he's known every time he opens up his journals and finds the pages written within. And this long reset has just made it harder and harder to pretend otherwise.

          Even if he was still afraid, he has to tell Teddie the truth . . . about the resets, and about himself. At least . . . enough so he understood how Yu knows what he knows. The darker things, the . . . bad things . . . those didn't need to be shared. Those stories would serve no purpose, other than upsetting Teddie even more than he was undoubtedly going to be when he found out his Sensei had been lying to him.

          . . . God . . . how had his summer, a summer that was supposed to be full of promise and hope and happiness, turn into this?

          With a sigh, he reached down and flipped the book closed, tucking it into his coat and feeling it rest their like a hot stone.

          There was a knock on his door, and Nanako's cheery voice called out, muffled behind the wood, "Come on, Big Bro, are you ready?"

          "Almost!" he replies, as cool as he can muster.

          He closed his eyes and took a deep, meditative breath. He hoped . . . he hoped that whatever happened, he and Teddie could find the source of this newfound chaos once the air between them had been cleared. Together, even if it was just the two of them, they stood a much better chance.

          He hoped . . . that things would be okay.

          He has to hope. He has to hope.

(----)

          It was nearly three months in, the longest a loop had ever gone. For all intents and purposes, this should be the sort of thing that had Teddie over the moon, even despite the fact that Sensei would be leaving again soon.   

          And yet, he could not shake this overhanging feeling of dread that seemed to cling to him like strands of sticky spider string.

          He tried. He tried really, really hard to push it aside and focus on all the gloriously new things that were happening, and enjoy that precious time with his friends to the fullest before the inevitable occurred. He . . . wasn't very successful.

          It was easier when he was on the go, talking to people or playing or even working! Over the course of the resets, he'd found that if his mind was busily occupied, it was hard to dwell on the negatives.

          But the times where he wasn't so occupied still happened more often than he would like. Like now, sitting in the near empty Junes food court, the sky turning a pretty shade of orange as the last few patrons filtered out. Teddie was off now, but he hadn't really felt like going anywhere, so he had just played with the kids that were still around until their parents took them away. He knows Yosuke's inside somewhere, he usually stayed a little longer than he did. Other than that, the store and balcony area was pretty bearren.

          And his thoughts drifted.

          Teddie didn't know why, but ever since that nightmare, his mind had refused to settle. Instinct told him something bad had happened, something that could potentially spell disaster. But logic told him (in a voice that sounded an awful lot like Yosuke's) that nightmares weren't real. Back and forth this contrasting feeling went, until eventually he gave up on sitting straight and planted his face on the table, sighing. It didn't help that his own investigation was turning stale, progress so slow you could bearly call it progress at all. He wanted to hope this long loop spelled the possibility of an end, that it might be over . . . but time had beat that naivety out of him long ago . . .

          Ugh, why did his brain have to think so much now?

          He stayed that way until he heard a familiar and very much bearloved voice was calling out to him, "Hey, Big Bro look, its Teddie! Hi Teddie!"

          He sat up again, eyes brightening when he saw Nana-chan trotting over to him, a Junes bag in her hand a sweet little smile on her face. For all the down days he could have, Nana-chan never failed to be bright spot that made his spirits lift. Or lighten, as the case may be.

          He grinned at her, "Hey, Nana-chan! Fancy seeing you here!"

          The little girl giggled before holding up the bag she had, "Me, Dad, and Big Bro came here today to do some shopping! It was lots of fun!"

          "Aw," Teddie pouted, "I wish you'd told me! I could have told Yosuke to give you a discount, and we could have eaten aaaall the snacks!"

          "I'm sure Yosuke would have appreciated that," Sensei said as he arrived, ruffling Nana-chan's hair in the process.

          "That would have been fun!" the little girl said, smiling. Tilting her head, she looked around and asked, "Where is Yosuke?"

          Teddie pointed to the doors, "Still inside, doing slave work."

          "Ah, he did say he'd be late," Sensei said, nodding. At Teddie's puzzled look, he explained, "He and I were going to Aiya's later with a couple of old schoolmates."

          Which means he'd have Yosuke's room all to himself! Good. He thinks maybe he can use the down time without having to pretend for a while. A couple of comfy pillows, blankets, some treats he'd been saving, and the old little tv in the corner sounded reeeeeally nice right now.

          "Hey, Teddie?"

          He blinked, mind coming back to the present, "Hm?"

          Nanako's eyebrows were furrowed together, lips pursed in concern, "Are you okay? You look really tired today."

          Oh no, he'd spaced out too much! Code red!

          "A-ah, sorry Nana-chan! Yosuke's just been working me out of my fur, is all! I'm okay! Honest! Eh-heh . . ." he scratched the side of his cheek, mentally berating himself for slipping like that in front of Nana-chan.

          "You should take a break if you're not feeling well," Nana-chan offered in her usual angelic way, smiling at him.

          He smiled back, perking up a little as he said, "Weeeell, I can't say no to that face, can I?"

          Nanako giggled again, when another voice called out, "There you two are!"

          Everyone turned to see Mr. Dojima coming towards them, a bag in one hand and a gruff smile on his face despite the sternness he was trying to level his friends way, "Next time, Yu, give me a little heads-up when you abandon me in the line."

          Sensei smiled, laughter in his eyes, "Sorry uncle, but Nanako wanted to explore a little more before she went home."

          Mr. Dojima huffed, but it was a good-natured one, "Well, guess I can't argue with that."

          "Hi dad!" Nana-chan greeted, running up to the man and wrapping her little arms around his waist, "Did you get the ramen?"

          The older man placed a hand on her head, dark eyes soft, "You bet. Shrimp, just like you asked."

          Nana-chan rocked on her heels, cheering, "Yaaay!"

          "Well, its getting pretty late," Mr. Dojima said, glancing at the sunset before looking back down to his daughter, "Ready to head home?"

          "Mhm. Oh!" Nana-chan's face brightened the way it always did when she got an idea, and she tugged at her father's wrist, "Dad, is it okay if Teddie can come too?"

          Teddie's ears perked up in surprise, and Mr. Dojima looked just the same, "Huh?"

          The girl dug the toe of her boot against the concrete, looking a little embarrassed but forging ahead anyway, "Well, Teddie looked a little lonely out here all by himself, so I thought maybe some dinner would cheer him up!" she glanced sheepishly his way, "Is that okay?"

          "Aw, Nana-chan . . ." he  murmured, touched. Nanako was always such a conscientious little girl.

          "Uh, well . . ." Mr. Dojima scratched the side of his chin, fingernails raking over his stubble and caught clearly off guard. He sent a glance his way, and the look on his face told Teddie that if he said yes, he wouldn't refuse. Mr. Dojima liked him well enough that he rarely had a problem with him occasionally coming over, especially since he got along so well with his daughter. But Teddie had noticed (very clearly now) that the man could only take so much of his, uh . . . 'enthusiasm'. And he adored Nana-chan to bits and pieces, to be sure.

          But . . .

          He shook his head, smile turning apologetic, "Its okay, Nana-chan. Maybe next time. We can make it a date!"

          Mr. Dojima kinda cringed at that, but Nanako only frowned a little, looking one part disappointed and one part worried. Oh, he didn't mean to do that . . .

          But then it was gone, replaced by an expression of unyielding austerity mimicked almost perfectly from her father as she placed her hands on her hips and said, "Okay! But it's a promise now, and there's no backing out of it! Don't forget, okay? Or else you'll suffer the consequences!"

          Sitting up a little straighter, he mock-saluted in reply, "Ay-ay, captain!"

          Mr. Dojima chuckled, "Alright, alright, I think you've made your point. Come on, or else we'll miss that show you like."

          Nana-chan gasped, "Oh no, Loveline!"

          She grabbed her dad's hand, pulling with a new sense of purpose as the older man looked to his nephew, "I take it you're waiting here?"

          Sensei nodded, "Yeah. He should be out soon."

          "Well, don't think I need to tell you this, but be safe. I expect you back at least before midni-" before Mr. Dojima could finish, a particularly persistent pull unbalanced him enough to send him stumbling back, "Whoa, now! When'd you get so strong?"

          Nana-chan smiled up at him, "Practice!~"

          "With what? Sumo-wrestlers?" Dojima asked, an amused half-smile on his face.

          "Its a secret," she replied. She resumed pulling, "Now come on, we gotta hurry!"

          "Haha, I will, I will! Well, anyway, remember what I said," Mr. Dojima returned his attention to Yu, who nodded in reply.

          "Of course. Have fun, you two."

           Mr. Dojima began to follow his daughter towards the exit, spurred on by her determined pulling. Before they departed completely, Nana-chan popped around her father and waved at them, "Bye Teddie! Bye Big Bro! See you when you get back home!"      

          They both waved back, chorusing, "Bye!"

          Silence resumed, the balcony mostly empty again save for himself, Sensei, and one other group polishing off their drinks. Sensei took a seat across from him, which was fine. Teddie always liked it when his Sensei was around.

          That is, unless he was looking as concerned as he did right now, a look that was focused on him and no one else and it was making Teddie very uncomfortable because it shouldn't be that obvious he was anxious.

          "You do look very tired today," Sensei commented, in a way that didn't fit 'idle chat' at all.

          "Erm, yeah, a little," Teddie said, picking at his fingernails in an effort to distract himself, "I'll be okay, though, scout's honor!"

          "It's not like you to turn down a play-date with Nanako, either," he continued, relentless. Folding his hands together on the table, an oddly brooding and slightly apprehensive look crossed Sensei's face, brow knitted tight and his jaw clenching, which was unusual given how cool he usually was. Then, he continued, "Is . . . something the matter, Teddie?"

          It was a simple question, but there was a probing edge to it, one that didn't sit right with Teddie. Shifting in his seat, he replied, "Why would anything be the matter? I told you, Sensei, I just worked hard today is all! No need to get your fur all ruffled!"

          Sensei just frowned harder, the sharp orange light of the setting sun silhouetting him and making it seem far sharper than normal. Oh, that did not bode well . . .

          Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the last group rise from their seats and leave. The court was now well and truly bereft of patrons.

          That seemed to be what Sensei was waiting for, because suddenly his gaze grew more intense, fingers tightening as he cut straight to the point, "I know something's wrong, Teddie. It's not just today. It's been all of summer. Some days its not so bad, but others . . . others you're always forcing it, everything you do. Smiling, laughing, talking . . . everyone's noticed. Not only that, but Yosuke's been telling me you've been having nightmares, and that you haven't been eating as well as you used to."        

          Panic was starting to rise in his belly, and it was all Teddie could to keep from jumping out of his seat as he replied, "U-um . . . that's . . . it's not as bad as that."

          "That's not true. I know its not. Bigger things have been happening behind the scenes, and its been affecting you. Badly. And . . ." he took a breath and looked him dead in the eye, "And I know that you're not telling the whole truth."

          Teddie stared, "Wha-"

          Sensei held up a hand, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a way that was almost pained, "Please, just . . . let me finish. I know you're not telling the whole truth. But . . . but neither have I."

          He tilted his head, his panic now swirling chaotically with bewilderment and making it hard to process anything, "What . . . Sensei, I don't understand."

          The other boy's eyes fell to the table, like he couldn't meet them anymore, voice hushed, "I know. There's a lot you don't understand. And I hate myself for not explaining it sooner, but you see, the thing is-" he licked his lips and pressed a palm to his forehead, a dry, self-deprecating chuckle escaping, "The thing is, Teddie, is your Sensei's a coward."

          At that, Teddie desperately shook his head. He didn't know what was going on, or why Sensei was acting this way, but he had to do something to stop it, to reassure him that that wasn't the case at all, "That's not true! You're one of the bravest, nicest, smartest people I know! You've always been there for me, for Yosuke, for Nana-chan, for everybody! You're my-!"

          "Stop."

          Teddie clamped his mouth shut. Across from him, Sensei wouldn't meet his gaze, face drawn and grey eyes dark with a weariness that looked years older than his age.

          "I know you mean that. Hmph, I wonder how many times you've said it before to make me not worry," he closed his eyes, regret pinching his once smooth features, "You've gotten good at that, haven't you? Misdirecting people. Dodging questions. Twisting truths. All because I couldn't just toughen up and tell you. Because I was too damn afraid to do it."

          Teddie didn't say anything. He didn't know what to say. But all the while, the dread he had been fighting all this time rose up like some sort of snake, fangs dripping ice into stomach as he sat there, waiting.

          Sensei swallowed, then reached into his coat and pulled out a thin journal, red with a green trim. He held it out to him, not saying a word, fingers tense around the binding. Teddie glanced between him and it, seeing the unspoken command clearly but filled with a nervous anticipation that made him want to say 'no', because something about it, something in the way it was being offered, told him that this was far more serious than he could imagine. But he couldn't say no, not to his Sensei . . . so he reached over and took it. It felt far heavier than it looked, though maybe it was just the tense, heavy atmosphere that had suddenly descended upon the food court.

          Sensei still didn't speak, merely waited, looking like a man condemned. It made Teddie uncomfortable. But, with little else to do and after an uneasy swallow, he opened the book and began to read.

          At first, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. There were recounts of the days of summer, little notes here and there and maybe a few more personal jots that Teddie respectfully avoided. Nothing out of the ordinary at all.

          But then . . . but then . . .

          They started repeating . . .

          Similar dates began to crop up on the pages further in, and the lettering became less a personal journal and more an investigative map. Highlighted retellings of the same days, circled passages where one certain element had changed, and, more alarmingly, many passages which revolved around him.

          It was all such a detailed recording, too. Everything, from the first day of summer to the days the Reset turned them back. Except there were numerous entries of the exact same days, the exact same events, the exact same times, the exact same everything that he'd written down in his own journal to document his investigation. And his should be the only one. It should be the only one, because it was only the box that kept it safe! All other evidence of the resets were supposed to be gone!

          His hands had started shaking, heart racing like a bird had been trapped inside his chest as he grabbed a handful of pages and thrust them aside, cutting to the half-way point of the book. There were only a few pages left with scrawl on them, but they each said the same thing. Or they may as well have, the phrases sticking out like lines of fire on the pages;

          'Time's repeating. Stopping and starting.'

          'Loops, rewinds, anomalies in space itself.'

          'The resets are happening again.'

          His mouth had gone dry, heart hammering in his throat and blood roaring in his ears, vision going spotty as the journal clattered back to the table. He didn't want to believe it. But the truth was sitting right in front of him, right before his eyes. He'd seen it in the words. And now, looking up with a shocked yet half-dazed stare . . . he could also see it in Sensei's eyes.

          And that made it impossible to deny.

          "You know . . ."

          Sensei averted his gaze, face falling into shadow and voice strangely choked, "I do. I don't remember when the reset happens . . . but all I have to do is open my journals and I know. I've known for . . . quite a while, now."

          He'd known . . . all this time for who knows how long now, Sensei had known. That should make him happy! He should be overjoyed that he wasn't as alone as he'd thought he'd been, that there was someone out there who knew the truth and could help him!

          But instead . . . he felt hurt. And something else too, something hotter, stronger, simmering in his stomach like a stove burner and making it hard to think about anything else beyond the heat . . .

          There's a name for it, he knows . . . but its such a strange and alien emotion that it makes him feel ill and afraid, and he doesn't want to think about it.

          "Why . . .?" he started, trembling in his seat, his voice feeling unnaturally thick, "Why now? Why didn't you talk to me before?"

          The expression Sensei made was pained, "Like I said . . . I'm a coward. But this reset, I had time to think it through. I had time . . . to stop justifying to myself that hiding was the better option, that writing it down and searching on my own would be more useful, when we should have been working together from the start. And . . . even without all of that, you deserved to know. I should have told you sooner-"

          "So why didn't you?!"

          The shout startled him just as much as it did Sensei, and he immediately clammed up, a hand flying to his mouth as his eyes fell to the floor. H-he . . . he was being ridiculous. He shouldn't feel this way, he should be happy! He should be happy!

          And yet . . . all he could think about were all the nights he'd spent staring at the ceiling wishing someone was there who understood. All the times he'd felt alone in a crowded room because no one else was aware of the truth, separated from his friends by a gap he couldn't even hope to surmount. He'd kept silent because in the end, everyone would forget. In the end, it'd start over and he'd be alone again, and he couldn't put himself and the others through that.

          Except someone had been aware. They'd been aware for a long time, if that journal was any indication, but they hadn't once bothered to help because . . . they'd been scared? It was such a sharp and frightening contrast to the bold and supportive man he knew Sensei to be, of the picture Teddie had of him in his head. The person who'd given him kind words and comfort in his darkest moments, who'd go to the ends of the earth to protect his friends from anything and everything.

          No, there has to be a reason besides that, he tried to tell himself, mind reeling, There has to be . . .

          The other boy's head was bowed, voice low, "There's . . . a lot of things you don't know about me, Teddie. A lot of things that no one knows about me. Things that . . . I'm not proud of. And the only reason why no one knows is because once . . ." he sighed tremulously, like it was a struggle to get the words out, "Once, Teddie, before all of this . . . I was the one in control of the resets. I was the one . . . in control of the timeline."

           Its like the world stops, and for a moment he forgets how to breathe.

          Then he's shaking his head, and his thoughts run together incoherently as he starts to babble, "N-no. No, that's . . . that's not true, you wouldn't do something like this-"

          "Its true," the other boy replies, solemn and full of regret, "That's how I know. That's how I understand. That's how I was able to do anything right at all last year! I know its confusing , and you have every right to be angry with me for hiding it, but I swear, I don't know anything about what's happening now! You have to believe me!"

          Except Teddie can't believe it, he can't believe his ears, to the point where he's convinced he must have misheard. Sensei . . . controlling time? Once, in naive adoration, he might have believed that, because how awesome would that have been? But after witnessing first-hand just how terribly cruel a power it was, he couldn't bring himself to even consider that Sensei would have it, let alone wield it. The mere thought of someone so noble turning back time and playing with someone else's life like his own had been played with was so contradictory it made his head spin. It made him sick.

          It made sense, how Sensei knew about the loops, how he was able to figure out so much on his own, maybe even how he was able to do so many incredible things. It made a terrifying amount of sense, and he can see in Sensei's eyes that the other is being completely honest with him. But he just can't . . .

          "T-that's not funny, Sensei. Y-you wouldn't use something like this, you wouldn't do something that awful!" he's desperate now, desperate for the reassurance that all of its just been a joke. That while maybe Sensei knew about resets, he was a victim of it just like he was. That he couldn't be one of the causes!

          But Sensei recoils like he's been struck, "No, Teddie, you don't understand! I mean, yes, I . . . I can reset time, but the resets happening now aren't mine!"

          "Now . . . ?" its the only word he picks up on in his stressed state, eyes blowing wide, "W-what do you mean now?"

          "I . . . I . . ." for once, Sensei's at a loss for words, face cracking into something that looks an awful lot like panic, reminiscent of a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar and not knowing how to explain their way out of the situation.

          "Y-you can't mean that," Teddie goes on, mind reeling and words tumbling out uninhibited, "Y-you're Sensei! You're good, you're kind, you wouldn't do this to anyone! You wouldn't play with people like that! You wouldn't lie to people like that! You wouldn't hurt someone like that!!" his lasts words come out as nothing but a strangled whisper, filled with desperation, "You wouldn't, right?!"

          " . . . I . . ." Sensei closes his eyes, head falling, and his words are filled with the deepest remorse Teddie's ever heard, "I'm sorry."

          And its that single, solemn apology that finally cements the truth in reality.

          . . . Sensei can control time. Sensei can make the resets happen. He can do all the things that had put Teddie through hell these past months, and with a sickening jolt, he realizes now, with utter certainty, that Sensei had used it. And that's what horrifies him. That someone he loves so much could willingly use such an awful, awful power. He doesn't know the reason why. He doesn't think he wants to know. But the blatant truth before him and the shock that sets in seconds after triggers something in his soul, and in the blink of an eye he relives it all. All the grief and all pain and all the madness he'd endured since this had started, a singularity of chaos that blurs the past and present together in his head  . . . and for one vertigo-inducing moment with only static in his ears, Teddie can't separate Sensei from the monster that had done this to him.

          And he panicked.

          "N-no . . . no, no, no no no no no-!" he shot up from his seat, knocking the chair over as he stumbled away from the table. He nearly fell, the ground swirling under his feet in dizzying circles while the world around him spun like a carousal of frenzied color. It was suddenly so hard to breathe, chest constricting so painfully tight it was like his insides were trying to crush him, breaths coming in short yet erratically fast bursts as his stomach twisted and his heart raced.

          "Teddie?!" Sensei/shadow/friend/thing/he doesn't know anymore-rose up as well, reaching out in concern/malice, and Teddie does the only thing his panic-stricken mind can think to do; he turns and he runs.

          He slams into Yosuke as he bolts inside, sending the other down to the floor in a flurry of shouting and cursing, but he doesn't stop. He heads straight for the electronics section of the store, feet flying of their own accord until he reached the tv. Without looking back, frantic to escape from an enemy he couldn't see, he plunged his fingers through the screen and dove inside.

(----)

          Yu watches as Teddie runs from the food court, frozen to the spot.

          For the first time since he can remember, he has no idea what to do. One part of his mind screams for him to go after the bear, to stop him, to explain. But the other remains locked in a state of cold horror, a horror that numbs his limbs and stops his heart.

          And its the part that's winning.

          There's a lot of things he's dealt with over the course of his resets involving his friends. Emotions directed at him, emotions he can recall with perfect clarity on each of their faces as they shared moments beyond counting; joy, sadness, anger, despondency, despair . . . he'd seen them all, he'd felt them all.

          But the sheer, nail-biting terror aimed right at his core is one he's never faced before.

          . . . but isn't that what you should expect?

          The darker part of his mind was whispering now, the part that held all his secrets and deceit, running wild with his doubts and fears, What other outcome could there be? Poor little bear's just found out you've been lying to him all this time. Not only that, but that you've been playing God with all his dear friends lives. After what he's been through, you really should have known better.

          How could he be so stupid? How could he be so fucking stupid?! How could he just assume that things would be okay? How could he assume that this wouldn't be the result?! Teddie had only experienced the worst these resets had to offer, a mind-numbing hell that he had no control over. Of course he would be changed. Of course he wouldn't see the world as he had several months ago. And Yu'd just . . . he'd just gone and told him that he had that same power, and that he'd used that power, that he'd toyed with their lives like some disgusting puppet master!

          It was no damn wonder he'd looked at him like he was a monster.

          Yu was trembling now, only distantly aware of Yosuke's yelling. This moment was everything he had feared about revealing what he knew. But what else could he expect, what fucking else was there for his friends to feel except fear? Except disgust?!

          He'd been so stupid . . . he'd been so fucking stupid . . .

          "Yu? Hey, Yu, are you okay?"

          Yu looked up, having to blink several times before Yosuke's face came into full focus. The other boy looked winded, and a little scuffed, but there was no anger in his face. Just concern as the questioning began, "Dude, what the hell happened out here? Why'd Teddie run off like that?"

          But Yu can't speak. His mouth feels like its been stuffed with cotton, and in his mind's eye he can only see Yosuke giving him a look that drips with loathing, appalled that his trusted friend, his partner, had done such awful things, such terrible, awful things and then pretended like they didn't even happen-!

          "Yu-?"

          He feels sick. He can't stay here. Without a word, mind running in faltering, broken circles around black memories, he grabs the journal, pushes past Yosuke and retreats through the exit, jogging home as fast as he can and ignoring the shouts behind him.

Chapter Text

          Out of the night that covers me, black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be for my unconquerable soul.

          The blackness was absolute, a void within a void, a place no light could touch. In it, Chara's thoughts were the only thing to disturb it, passing time inside their own head as they waited within the dark, unafraid.

          Chara had an ambivalent opinion of this place. Neither good nor bad, a limbo that left little to the imagination. For a dead soul like themselves, it was comfortable enough, and though there was little to do, Chara was a patient person.

          And yet Frisk was finding ways to test it even now.

          Their proclivity for mercy was irritating enough. If God existed, he'd know just how useless such a thing was in this rotten world. They couldn't even begin to describe how relieved they'd been when the other had finally caved. That moment of weakness paved the way for their plan to come to full fruition, starting with the monsters and ending with the rest of humanity. A glorious vision Chara had nursed ever since they'd been awoken from death.

          At least it would be, if Frisk wasn't being so insufferably stubborn! One would think they'd have no problem handing their SOUL over after what they did, but no! They insisted on holding onto it, like this last act of rebellion would wash them clean of their sins and absolve them of their wrongdoing.

          They were wrong. And, as Chara would continuously reminded themselves, Frisk would realize that sooner or later. All they had to do was wait and press and push until the other broke.

          In the clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeoning of chance, my head is bloody, but unbowed.

          Leaning back in the void of the end-game, Chara smiled and reflected on the memories that lent fuel to their fire. A missing father whose name was spoken with mocking laughter from the lips of others, a mother who may as well have been missing herself for all the care she gave them, and intolerable neighbors who just couldn't be bothered to keep their mouths shut when they were around.

          'Incorrigible child', 'stupid brat', 'that poor mother' . . . they'd heard it all. Small wonder they lashed out in the ways they did, with violence and vitriol and a wrath so vicious the adults would look at them and call them 'demon-spawn'. A demon . . . hm, it suited them. And in time, Chara came to wear it as a badge instead of a brand.

          It was the exact sort of story that would have bleeding hearts poor false sympathy and sickly sweet 'comfort' upon them, like any of it made a difference. All those words, but none of them would ever actually do anything about Chara's situation. And once they saw what they were like, those gentle words would quickly change to ones of scorn. It was almost funny how quick human opinions could change.

          Beyond this place of wrath and tears looms but the horror of the shade. And yet the menace of the years finds, and shall find me, unafraid.

          There were few comforts then, back before they found the Dreemurs. The 'pranks' they pulled offered a mild catharsis, and their walls had been pockmarked with scratches from where they'd vented their fury. When they'd been younger, they'd even had a silly stuffed doll they'd tell all their frustrations and secrets too. It never talked back, but at least it listened, which was more than they could say of people.

          Of it all, there was only one thing they'd taken with them into the underground. A poem, one they'd chanced upon in the public library. A poem that had resonated with their SOUL in ways they couldn't begin to describe, that spoke with more meaning to them than any person could ever hope to achieve. In their darkest moments, they'd think of it, as they'd memorized it by heart, recited in memory just as surely as their lips. It gave them courage. It gave them strength. It gave them determination.

          "It matters not how strait the gate, how charged with punishments the scroll. I am the master of my fate. I am the captain of my soul."

(----)

          It took a long, long time for Teddie to calm down, waiting for his breathing to go back to normal and for his heart to stop pounding and for his stomach to stop roiling like a tornado. Even after he'd retreated inside the tv and donned his precious fur, it felt like hours before the world stopped spinning and he could properly think straight again.

          That temporary confusion may have been a secret blessing, though, because now it was like the only thing he could do was pace, footsteps squeaking in time to every anxious beat of his heart as his mind went in circles around the events at the food court.

          He'd yelled at Sensei. He'd . . . yelled at Sensei. And then he'd run away from him like he was some kind of monster! How he could do that?!

          Maybe . . . maybe Sensei c-could do all those things, but . . . but they couldn't be for bad reasons! Sensei would never hurt his friends! He'd never . . . h-he'd never hurt him . . .

          But he did hurt you, didn't he? He's been lying to you all this time, watching you suffer from the sidelines and not lifting a finger to help. How presumptuous of you to assume he has your best intentions at heart.

          Teddie shook his head, sucking in a breath and tapping his paws to the side of his temples, banishing the voice to the deepest, darkest corner of his brain and replaying happy memories of whatever came to mind to drown out its sinister whispers. No, he was not going to listen to the voice again. It didn't know what it was talking about.

          Still . . .

          How long had Sensei known? Why had he not spoken sooner? He'd said he was a coward, but Teddie couldn't quite reconcile that word with his beloved teacher. What was there to be afraid of that his Sensei couldn't conquer?

          . . . well, maybe Sensei had been right to be afraid, he reflected with no small amount of sorrow. After all, hadn't he . . . run away from him when he told him the truth? Instead of staying and listening like a good friend was supposed too?

          And even then, what was wrong with being scared? Everyone was scared of something. Even someone as amazing as Sensei.

          He should go back . . . he should go back and sit down and listen. It was the right thing to do.

          And yet, Teddie found he couldn't quite muster up the courage to do so, because despite his faith in his Sensei's intentions, the thought of meeting the other boy now after such a tense moment made his heart quicken and his stomach churn.

          So maybe it was better to . . . to maybe stay away . . . for a little while.

          No one had come for him yet. Teddie was privately glad for it. He had retreated to a very deep part of the forest, far from the exit and where it would take a lot of time for anyone to find him. He hoped his friends weren't worrying, but realized it might be too late for that since he'd run into Yosuke on his way out.

          Teddie sighed, ears lowering. There was nothing he could really do about it now. He'd go back soon.

          Soon . . . but not right now.

          He looked around, watching the leaves shudder overhead and listening to their gentle rustling as he picked his way farther in. It was dark here, the newborn sun barely able to penetrate the thick canopy overhead. And yet, Teddie found it nice out here. Quiet. Once, this gloomy woodland would have unnerved him, but right now . . . he thinks he needs the silence.

          So much had happened in such a short time . . . he wondered if maybe he should go back and write it all down in his journal. Actually, he really probably should. But it was such a long walk, and he wasn't quite ready to go back yet . . .

          As he meandered through the undergrowth, he caught sight of something bright and colorful within the trees. Interest peaked, even if by only a little, Teddie wandered to the spot and found that a small patch of flowers had taken root in a tiny little glade barely bigger than he was, fed by a small shaft of sunshine that fell through the open branches above. The bear smiled, finding comfort in the vivid array of colors that had blossomed here despite the dimness of the forest.

          After a thought, he reached down and plucked three of them, the ones he liked best. Ordinarily, he'd feel a little bad taking them away from their home. But once time went back, because it would go back, they'd be back here, untouched and unsullied. Until then, they could keep Teddie company as he wandered farther and farther into the trees.

          They were very pretty flowers. One was red, with large, multi-layered petals that were soft to the touch just like a rose. Another was varying shades of blue, its thin oval petals spread wide to bare its bright yellow center to the world around it. And the last was yellow, with only five big, curling petals that enclosed its delicate heart like a shield. On their own, they each smelled nice, sweet and fresh and perfume-y. But Teddie thought they smelled best when they were all together.

          With no one around, and as time crawled on, he began to aimlessly talk, thoughts filtering out unashamedly, "Hey, Mr. Flowers . . . if you could turn back time, would you do it?"

          If the flowers could speak, he imagined they'd say 'no'. They were flowers, after all. What need would they have of such a power?

          "Me too! The world's a great place, but isn't the best way to experience it the way everybody else does?"

          'Yes, it is', the flowers would reply.

          Teddie's expression lifted, glad to have something agree, even if he was the only one talking. But it soon faded, a sober frown taking over as unhappy thoughts drifted in, "But . . . what if someone you knew could do it? And you know they're a good person, but they've . . . used it before, apparently? And . . . you don't know how to talk to them about it. Or what to do. And you don't want to be upset, but . . . but you can't help but feel that way, because they've been . . . lying to you. What would you do?"

          The flowers gave him no answer.

          His ears fell, feeling a sting of disappointment even though he knew it was silly to expect anything different. He was just being silly.

          With a sigh, Teddie clutched the flowers closer and carried on.

          Brzt.

          Teddie stopped walking, feeling a tingle run all across his body like he'd just walked through a spider web, the sticky, static-y sensation making his fur involuntarily rise.

          He looked around, on edge and wary, but nothing moved in the clearing. All was as silent and still as he would expect, and everything looked the same.

          Then, he saw something strange.

          A single shaft of sunlight filtered in from between two tall, ancient looking trees, a slant of shimmering amber against a backdrop of dark greens and brown. Except, for seemingly no reason at all, the shaft abruptly ended six feet above the ground, like it suddenly and inexplicably ceased to be.

          Swallowing, flowers pressed to his chest, he cautiously moved towards the bended arch between the trees, sniffing for any danger. But nothing stood out.

          It wasn't until he was nearly below the strangely cut ray of light when he saw the empty space before him flicker.

          He stopped dead.

          Teddie stared, hardly daring to breathe as he watched the area closely, every hair on his body bristling in alarm. Something was off, something was wrong, and he knew he should leave, he should go get help-

          The space flickered again, a little more strongly, little spots in the air splitting apart like tears in cloth to reveal nothing but a pitch black darkness beyond.

          He would have turned tail and fled then and there . . . had a sudden and strange heat not pulsed from within his chest.

          His paw flew to the spot, but much to his confusion he grasped nothing save his own fur. However, the warmth of the bizarre flash remained, a tingling mantle right over his heart like a heat pack had been pressed over it.

          Another flicker, another pulse, another wave of bewilderment, and the only thing Teddie could think to do was oscillate on the spot, uncertain.

          W-what . . . what was going on?

          The space before him twisted again, an even larger tear appearing, fluctuating unsteadily . . . and right before it closed, Teddie swore he saw a something standing just beyond.

          A person . . . ?

          Perhaps foolishly, Teddie stepped closer, wondering if maybe he had just been seeing things. As confused and upset as he'd been, he couldn't put it past himself to dream things up that weren't there. But then another breach happened, wider than the last, and he saw the same shot of color from before, visible and vibrant and very much real.

          And Teddie couldn't find in himself to leave.

          If someone was trapped inside this thing . . . wasn't it only right to help? He had to try. He couldn't just leave them!

          "Hello?" he called out, voice shaking from fear even as he tried to steady it.

          There was no answer, but right before the veil stuttered closed again, he thought he saw them turn around.

          They were alive. Thank goodness!

          Swallowing nervously, but determined to help the stranger, Teddie crept even closer until he stood just before it. With a move his friends would have called reckless and maybe even crazy, he steeled his nerves, reached out, and touched the fluctuating space in front of him.

(----)

          How long had they been here? Hours? Days? Years?

          Frisk had lost all track. But maybe that was for the best. Knowing just how long they had been trapped in this endless nothing might serve to only drive them mad and forget why they had chosen to exist in this hell. Forget, and blunderingly sell their soul just to escape the darkness.

          Chara made sure they never forgot the option was there. Every time, Frisk turned them down.

          They wondered how long it would be before Chara's patience snapped.

          Until then, Frisk would remain here. Forever, if that was the only way to escape the fate Chara had planned for the world. They wouldn't let anyone else get hurt because of them.

          Frisk leaned back, a sound like a sigh escaping them, even though noise didn't really travel in this place. Once, they used to dwell on happier memories to pass the time, the moments that gave them strength to carry on in this frozen darkness. Now, they could no longer do it without feeling remorse and guilt.

          Their friends . . . the monsters whole world had been shattered because of them. If only they could take it all back. If only they could be given a second chance . . .

          If only . . .

          Brzt.

          Frisk's teeth clenched involuntarily as a soft tingle raced across their body, like the weightless strokes of a hundred feathers. Spinning around, they scanned the darkness for any sign of movement, the tell-tale flash of color that signaled Chara's return. But nothing emerged from the smothering shadows Frisk had come to call home.

          Until, like a trick of the eye, a tiny ripple twisted within the dark.

          Frisk blinked, and for a moment they began to believe they really had lost their mind. Then it happened again, bigger and wider, a wrinkling stream that opened and closed like a windswept curtain. And beyond, Frisk thought they could see something . . . something colorful and bright and clear.

          A waft of fresh, clean air ghosted over their face, and Frisk leaned into it like it was the gentle touch of a friend, drinking in the earthy smell of growing things as they hadn't done for so long. Oh, how long had it been?

          The space before them rippled again, more tears splitting through the black, bringing with it even more light and even more wonderfully new, vigorous scents. Tantalized, and perhaps even a little hopeful, Frisk hovered closer, peering intently beyond the fraying veil.

          Something was definitely beyond. Someone, even, but it didn't look human. A monster?

          Spurred on by curiosity and with nothing else to lose, Frisk came closer as the ripples widened and grew, soft hues of color and whispering wind growing stronger the closer they came. It was only when they floated mere inches from the fluctuating portal that something else shimmered across their vision. And Frisk's jaw dropped.

          There, hovering in the space between the nothing and the colored world beyond, faint, faint lines began to bleed across veil, growing thicker and bolder with every passing second;

          RESET?

          Frisk was paralyzed, choking on tears born from a mix of shock and sheer, overwhelming hope. Could this . . . truly be it? The chance they'd waited for, had prayed for? To set everything back and make it all right?

          Smiling tremulously, tears floating up into the endless space and refracting the light of the other side like pearlescent dewdrops, Frisk reached for the word, fingers splaying out against the rippling portal before them.       

          Only to grow puzzled when nothing more happened. The options they remembered appearing every time they touched the glowing remark did not appear like they should, the word only that; a static, unchanging word about as useful as any other. Hope faltering, Frisk tapped at it again, desperation leaking into their movements. But no matter what they did, nothing changed.

          No. No, no, no, it couldn't do this! It couldn't just appear and then not do anything! Was it a cruel trick from Chara? Was that what this was, an attempt to break them further?

          It made Frisk sick. But more than that, they felt a bitter, bitter disappointment that sucked at their hope like a leech. Despondent, saddened, despairing, Frisk let their hand and head fall.

          "FRISK!!"

          Cold terror lanced through Frisk's heart, all thoughts jarring to a stop as they snapped their head around at the familiar and dreaded voice, only to feel their whole body freeze like an animal caught in the headlights of a car.

          Chara was hurtling towards them, faster than Frisk had ever seen. Usually, their pace was slow, languid, a predator circling it's prey, but now . . . now all pretense of mockery was gone, replaced by a savage charge, face an oozing whirlwind of fury and desperation.

          They had never seen them look so angry before. Smug, scornful, triumphant, oh yes . . . but never so furious. It was that expression that made Frisk realize that this thing, whatever it was, was not Chara's doing. And the other denizen of this void was not happy that Frisk had found it.

          Frisk might have remained there unmoving, limbs locked in fright, had another noise not drawn them away from the horror racing towards them, a tiny, tinkling sound, like a raindrop splashing into a placid pool of water.

          And a voice, 'Hello?'

          Frisk spun around, and saw that the figure on the other side of the veil had placed a hand on the undulating wall between them, clearly the one who had spoken. The space where their hand was set rippled underneath their palm, right over the word that had filled Frisk with hope. And right before their very eyes, they watched as that same word began to glow.

          And Frisk knew what they had to do.

          "FRISK, DON'T YOU DARE!!!"

          There was no time to contemplate their actions. There was no time to hesitate at all. With every last shred of DETERMINATION they could dreg up from the corners of their SOUL, Frisk reached forward and pressed their palm against the stranger's, the light intensifying to a blinding degree right as they felt Chara's cold fingers dig into their back.

          RESET?

          Chara's scream was the only thing they could hear, "NO!"

          And, with defiance filling every pore, Frisk screamed back, "YES!"

          The single moment it took for the power to activate passed by in an instant, yet was held suspended for an eternity. Black and white flashed before Frisk's eyes, color and uncolor running together like paint, nothing and something becoming one and the same. A torpid stillness held them all in its clutches, cold numbing their limbs, heat holding their hearts, juxtapositions upon juxtapositions building as time and space ground to a halt around the three at it's epicenter.

          Then the world, the nothing, the something, the everything fractured.

(----)

          It was the first day of summer.

          Yu sat in the train with a journal in one hand and a phone in the other, eyes frozen on the tiny screen, reading and re-reading the words before him in an effort to displace them, to rearrange them, to make them say anything that wasn't what they spelled now.

          The journal he had opened on happenstance in order to peruse the memories he'd shared with his friends before his inevitable return, a brief refresher of everything he'd endured to better enjoy the experiences he would share in the home he had created last year. It was there he'd stumbled across a darker truth, a truth he hadn't wanted to believe, a truth that left him light-headed and nauseous.

          The message Yosuke had sent had only furthered those feelings, and a cold, iron-heavy dread seeped into every facet of his being as the cruelly unchanging words mocked him from the tiny, blinking screen;

          Text sent (13:02)

          Yosuke

          > Teddie's missing.

Chapter Text

          After so many Resets, Teddie had grown used to waking up in places he hadn't been a second before. Kinda came with the territory of time-hopping. However . . . this was definitely the first time he could recall waking up feeling so achy.

          And face-down.

          And . . . not in his bed . . . ?

          Actually . . . where was he again?

          With a groan, he rolled over onto his back, hearing dirt crunch softly underneath him as he moved. Something soft was brushing against his sides, and the air smelled earthy with a heady touch of lemony sweetness.

          It was a struggle to open his eyes at first, head pounding rather pawfully, but with enough effort he was finally able to tease them open. For a moment, everything just looked like a blur of blacks and grays and a small patch of white, swimming together dizzyingly before they smoothened out. And what he saw was . . . disconcerting.

          Teddie wasn't in his closet. In fact, he wasn't at home at all.

          Instead, it looked like he was underground. Walls of rock surrounded him on all sides, rough and imposing and lined deep with shadows. The only light came from a point far, far above his head, a hole of some sort that allowed a smattering of sunshine to fall to the cave floor below, right where he was laying.

          "Where . . . am I?" he murmured, pushing himself up to a sitting position. To his surprise, he found that the sunlit spot he was sitting on wasn't rock, but rather a patch of bright, sunny yellow flowers that cheerily rustled around, the source of the sweet scent from before. Curiously tilting his head to one side, he reached out to touch one of the bright petals, only to stop halfway when his hand came into view.

          It was his paw. Puzzled, he glanced at the other and saw the same thing. That was strange, he . . . he shouldn't be wearing his fur after a reset. And even then, last time he . . . last time he . . .

          . . . what did happen last time?

          He only had to rifle through his memories a little bit for it all to come back.

          . . . oh . . . that's right . . .

          Teddie's face fell, clasping his paws together as everything came back to him. He tried to quell it, but he couldn't quite stop the rising hurt that came rushing back with his memory, as well as the slight prick of tears that accompanied it.

          He sniffed, furtively wiping at his eyes to get rid of them. No, no crying. There had to be a reason for that, for everything! He just . . . needed to try and listen when he saw Sensei next . . .

          That was . . . if he saw Sensei next . . .

          He looked up, at the high, high walls all around him, and it finally struck him hard that he was not home and that everything had somehow changed in the time he'd been asleep. He had no idea what had happened and he had no idea where he was, and it was starting to sink in that he was really and truly lost. Swallowing anxiously, Teddie shivered as the chill wind from the cave nipped at his fur, feeling cold despite the warm sunlight filtering in from above.

          What was he going to do? How did he get out of this mess? How did he even get in it in the first place?

          He didn't get to contemplate his conundrum further, because that was when something beside him groaned.

          Jumping up with a startled squeak, Teddie whirled around and stared at the patch he'd just been sitting in.

          At first, everything remained still, quiet, like the sound had just been a trick of the mind. Then the flowers near the heart of the patch shifted, and another figure pushed themselves out from the shelter of the petals, looking up with a dazed expression on their face. With another surge of shock, Teddie saw that it was a human.

          The first thing Teddie noticed about them was their dark blue sweater with the bright pink stripes around the chest, the slightly worn threads looking comfy and warm. The second was their face, and Teddie couldn't help but gape at how young they looked. Not much older than Nana-chan at least, with tanned skin and squinty eyes surrounded by sloping chestnut hair. Concern quickly pushed out the fright, and Teddie waddled a little closer, looking for any injuries that child may have sustained.

          "Um . . . hi there. Are you okay?" he asked, keeping his voice quiet and gentle so they wouldn't be scared.

          It didn't help much, because the stranger still jumped half a foot in the air at the sound of Teddie's voice, looking up with alarm shining bright in their dark eyes and nearly tripping over their feet as they backpedaled from the bear.

          Teddie waved his paws, trying not to panic, "Oh, no no no, I'm a friend! Promise!"

          The child paused, staring back, mouth open and eyes blown wide, like they hadn't expected Teddie to be there. The bear shuffled on his feet, rubbing his paws together and making himself as nonthreatening as possible, "Um, hi there. My name's Teddie. What's yours?"

          The child stared, mouth flapping uselessly, unresponsive still. Ah, if only he had a balloon! He'd learned some really neat tricks with those, and all the kiddies loved them!

          "Um . . ." Teddie floundered for what to say. Usually, talking to a child wasn't all that hard, but given the circumstances and the strangeness of their situation, it was hard to think of what to say that would calm them down.

          But then, the child's attention left him completely as their eyes fell to their own hands, staring at them like they belonged to a stranger. They curled and uncurled their fingers, moving their arms slowly, robotically at first and then more comfortably, a look not unlike wonder filling their face. Hands travelled to their head, where they proceeded to explore every inch of skin and every strand of hair available, like they couldn't recognize their own face and needed to feel to remember.

          Teddie frowned, not sure how to respond, "Uh . . ."

          Then, to his immense surprise and budding worry, the child's eyes began to mist over right before they covered their face completely with theirs hands, crumpling inward as their shoulders started to shake. They still didn't speak, but the soft, sniffling sounds coming from them were unmistakable.

          "Oh no, don't cry! It's okay. It's okay!" he shouted hurriedly, not sure what to do but not wanting to leave the child all bereft and sad, "There's nothing scary here, promise!"

          He chanced a step forward, flowers whispering under his feet as he held out his paws, hoping that would be enough, "Please, I swear nothing bad's going to happen to you! I'll keep you safe."

          The child continued to hiccup, like they were biting back their cries, but they allowed their hands to fall. Their head remained low, bangs obscuring their eyes, but something finally seemed to resonate with the child because they began to walk closer to him. Their steps were slow, jerky, and uneven, like a puppet dangling on a marionette's strings, and Teddie was half afraid they'd fall. Then they stood before him, and without hesitation, the child wrapped their arms around the bear's middle and pressed their face against his chest.

          Teddie gently patted their head, feeling sorry for them. They were so little, and they must be so scared, all alone down here with no way out and with a stranger to boot, even if Teddie would never mean them harm. Trying to smile and reassure the other that everything was okay, even if it wasn't, Teddie spoke up with a chipper note in his voice, "There, see? It's okay. You're fine now! We'll find a way out, promise."

          The child hiccupped again, sniffling, and Teddie tried not to think about how his fur was probably getting ruined.

          Then, a tiny, tiny voice, scratchy and rough and ill-used but unquestionably from the child beneath him, whispered, "Thanks . . ."

          Teddie's smile broadened a little, pleased at the communication. Now, if they could get them to laugh, to smile, to forget about the bad things even for a moment, then he'd really be making progress, "Oh, you don't have to thank me! I'm happy to help, and bear hugs happen to be my specialty!"

          A sudden, rough, and loud huff escaped the child, a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a sob. Though they were still sad, Teddie would take it. A teary chuckle was far better than nothing.

          ". . .sk,"

          Teddie's ears twitched, only catching the tail end of the mumbled word, "Huh?"

          "My name . . ." the child looked up then, tears beading the corners of their eyes but smiling so widely, so brightly, challenging even the sun itself, "It's Frisk!"

(----)

          Those first few moments upon waking felt like a dream to Frisk. A beautiful, hopeful dream that promised redemption and vindication, even if it was tempered by the fear that all too soon they would wake up and it would tragically end. The disorientation of waking after a long fall, the flower bed, the sweet smell . . . it was all so blissfully nostalgic, so comfortingly familiar.

          "Um . . . hi there. Are you okay?"

          And the dream abruptly ended at the sound of a new, unfamiliar, obtrusive voice that was undeniably real and not in their head, sending adrenaline shooting through Frisk's veins. They shot to their feet, stumbling as legs refused to cooperate with their clumsy instructions, turning to face this unprecedented stranger with a wide-eyed stare.

          It had genuinely startled them. Never before had there ever been a second presence here in the flower patch, at least one that was physical and bearing an expression of equal surprise and shock. But looking at them . . . Frisk didn't feel their life was in danger. Round and small and rather colorful, they reminded Frisk of an overgrown plush doll of a bear, but with eyes and ears and a mouth that all emoted as clearly as a human could. Which could only mean that the being before them had to be a monster of some sort. One of the few they hadn't met, had somehow missed, and yet was somehow inexplicably here with them in the Ruins.

          At first, Frisk had wanted to be suspicious . . . even though they (he, if their tone of voice was any indication) seemed nothing but nice. Surreptitiously, and so the stranger wouldn't notice, Frisk took a quick peek at his stats. It had taken some getting used to, the ability to read a person's SOUL to gauge their HP and the like. It didn't come as naturally to humans as it did monsters, after all. They didn't know what the HP acronym stood for, but they had found it usually gave a good indicator towards someone's personality, as well as their strength. Not to mention their LV, which was the far more important of the two.      

          Surprisingly, no name was forthcoming. However, this stranger only read LV. 1, which thankfully meant he was far from dangerous.

          "Oh, no no no, I'm a friend! Promise!" he said, frantically waving his paws in front of him.

          He sounded earnest enough, and his low LV only backed up his claim. In all honestly, the stranger looked just as confused as Frisk did. Maybe their miraculous reset had simply displaced him from his home.

          Their reset . . . the reset. . .

          That was when Frisk remembered. The void, Chara, their mistake, the genocide, the tear, every single thing that had led them to this point.

          But they were not in the void. They were not a phantom floating in their own mindscape.

          Slowly, hesitantly, as if looking down would shatter the illusion, they lifted their hands-their hands- to their face. Pink flesh stared back, unmarred by scars, free of dust, whole and real and solid and theirs.

          One by one, with a reverence usually reserved for the most holy of artifacts, Frisk stretched their limbs, touched the skin of their face, stroked the tips of their hair, felt the sensation of pressure and warmth from their fingertips . . .

          With every lost sensation restored, with every movement asserting control and every action establishing dominance, Frisk slowly released the tension they had been holding as the reality, the new reality, finally sunk in; they were free.

          This was real. They were real.

          Against all odds, all improbability, all the rage smothering them for so long . . . they had been given a second chance.

          The moment they realized that was a moment of pure bliss. A moment of wonder. A moment of  joy they hadn't experienced in so long, so powerful and consuming Frisk had to cover their face as the tears began, shoulders shaking from elation both sweet and overwhelming.

          And, in the heat of emotion that eclipsed all rational sense . . . they tottered forward and collapsed against the bear's chest, hugging his middle tightly as their tears freely fell. The stranger had happily hugged back, patting them on the head and speaking kindly, softly, making promises and reassurances as only a gentle-hearted person would. He even made a silly little pun on his form, and Frisk laughed into the pleasantly soft fur when they heard it, the joke bringing them back to happier times, times that no longer seemed so impossible to restore and revel in. As they came down from their triumphant high, they felt a great deal calmer than before, perhaps in no small part to their new, if somewhat mysterious friend.

          'Teddie', he'd said his name was. Heh, it fit.

          And they were so eternally grateful that they could introduce themselves with their own voice, in their own body, with their own bright and beaming smile, "My name . . . it's Frisk!"

          Frisk. Not Chara . . . but Frisk.     

          They were back. They were finally back.

          And now, they could make things right.

(----)

           The room was small, the lights dim and smelling of dust and ill-use. Knick-knacks and notes fell into organized disarray along the metal tables and shelves, scrawled with numbers and symbols so complex no untrained eye could possibly hope to decipher them.

          There was only one chair, an old rolling one with a squeaky wheel that had seen many years of use, the leather worn away to nothing. It's single and only occupant sat alone within it, scrounging over their latest entries under the light of the lamp. Eyes squinted at the carefully kept notes, lined with weariness and flickering with a growing sense of dread with every word they took in. Ordinarily, they were never so bad. But this time . . .

          They did not like what these particular entries had to say.

          "God, kid . . ." the lone tenant murmured, half in disbelief and half in horror, the emotions curdling sour in his bones. Bracing a skeletal hand against smooth skull, trying not to let his thoughts run wild, he whispered, "What did you do?"

Chapter Text

          Frisk was beaming so hard their cheeks ached.  But after being a bodiless phantom for so long, it felt far too good to stop.

          The bear monster, Teddie, smiled at them, "Frisk? Hee-hee, I like that name! Frisk! Frrr-isk!"

          They chuckled again, and this time it was without the strained sadness from earlier. It was much more . . . alive. Much more happy. And with the way their new friend's eyes lit up with glee, it was also much more fulfilling.

          Teddie pat their head, and Frisk leaned into it welcomingly. They'd always been a little starved for attention even before they'd fallen into the underground, but after being without feeling for weeks, they reveled in the scritch-scritch sensation of almost-fingers rustling through their hair.

          "See? You're fine now," the bear promised reassuringly, "I know it's a little scary down here, but I'll watch out for you, okay? I'll get you out."

          Teddie glanced up, to the far away prick of light above their heads, and a more fretful expression crossed his face, "Mmm, I dunno how we're gonna do that, though. It's so far away . . ."

          Frisk stepped back so they could look up at him, frowning. Hm, they guessed it was only natural for a monster to assume that a human would want to go back to the place where humans came from. And of course one as nice as Teddie would want to help them get home.

          But they'd learned their lesson. And they were not going to make the same mistakes as before.

          Teddie mistook Frisk's expression for fear, however, and quickly went to comfort them, "B-but, that's fine! I'm sure there's somewhere else we can look, and I can sniff things out like a pro! We'll be o-kay!"

          They let their smile return a little, and the bear gave it back tenfold, looking pleased that Frisk wasn't sad anymore. Heh, how did they miss such a colorful character in the past? He couldn't be from the Ruins, could he? Maybe the capital. That place was enormous. Still, the troubling dilemma remained that Frisk had no idea how Teddie had got here. And it all just begged the question; if their starting point was different . . . what else was different, also?

          Frisk wasn't sure if they were ready to find out yet.

          "So, erm . . ." Teddie started, beginning to look shuffle a little awkwardly but looking well-meaning, "How did you get down here, Frisk? This place looks a little dangerous for someone so little to be out here all by their bearsome."

          Ah. The question.

          Frisk quietly shrugged, dismissive, "I fell."   

          They weren't lying when they said that.

          The bear frowned, alarm flashing in his eyes, "You fell? F-from so far up? Oh my gosh, you're not hurt are you? Ah, quick, how many fingers am I holding up?!"

          He held up two fingers, half-panicked and fraught with worry, which Frisk found endearing. Quickly, they mimicked him with a smile on their lips so as to put the bear's mind at ease. It seemed to work, because Teddie relaxed a little, appearing pleased with that, "Whew. Okay, that's good! Thank goodness nothing serious happened."

          Frisk shrugged again, but a more mischievous spark had settled itself in their eyes as they folded their arms behind their back, "I know how to come through when it . . . counts."

          At first, the bear looked a little puzzled. Then, a light when off inside the little monster's brain, and he practically began to sparkle, "Oh! Oh! I get it! Ha-ha, that was pretty good! Oh, wait, wait, let me think of something now! Hmm . . ." he thought for a moment, then grinned and pointed Frisk's way, "It's good you do, because now our chances really add up!"

          Frisk laughed. Not chuckled, not giggled, but honest-to-goodness laughed, and god, if it wasn't the most freeing sensation they'd ever felt since forever.

          Teddie laughed too, looking happy that they were happy, and Frisk felt a touch of gratitude for the bear's efforts to cheer them up despite his obvious confusion over his predicament. Frisk filed it away for later to figure out some way to thank him properly, someplace they were safe and not so confused.

          Their laughter died down quickly enough, and once it did, Teddie turned to carefully sniffing the air, ears swiveling on his head as he took in the rest of the cavern. Cute.

          "Hrmmm . . ." Teddie hummed, tapping his chin with a fuzzy paw as he gave the only corridor a perusing stare, "I guess . . . we have to go this way. It's really dark, though . . ."

          The bear was looking uncomfortable as he wavered on the spot, and Frisk sympathized. They had been nervous going down that path on their first run, too.

          By now, they'd gone down it countless times. But . . . it would be nice to walk down it with a friend, for once.

          Wiping the lingering tears from their face, Frisk reached out and gently tugged at the other's hand. The bear glanced down, humming questioningly.

          "It's okay," Frisk said, offering an encouraging smile as they wrapped their small fingers around his paw, "I'm sure it'll get better once we go in. We'll be okay."

          For a second, Teddie looked a little surprised. Then, as if Frisk had hit a switch, the bear fluffed out his fur and nodded brusquely, "Y-yeah! You're right! We can't let fear stop us! The only way we can get out is to keep on moving! Onwards and upwards! Forward march!"

          Then the bear was walking, face filled with a comical amount of determination as he strode ahead. He didn't let go of Frisk's hand, however, and he never walked so fast or so hard that they were uncomfortable, keeping a measured pace to accommodate Frisk's smaller legs. It was considerate, and they appreciated the thought.

          Also, Frisk made a discovery; their new friend's feet squeaked when they walked.

          Cute.

          Then they remembered.

          "Oh! Wait!"

          Frisk released the bear's hand and ran back to the flower patch, crouching down to root through the lemon-scented petals as Teddie looked on in confusion. Their fingers brushed over dirt until they nudged against something hard, and with a triumphant smile, Frisk stood up and held out their prize; an small, crooked, but hardy stick, a little green leaf blossoming from it's tip.

          Teddie tilted his head, puzzled still but offering a smile for their sake, "Oh, is that what you were looking for?"

          Frisk nodded as they trotted back to the other's side, the hard, grainy bark rubbing against their palm comforting and familiar. It was like an old friend, a stalwart companion who'd accompanied them faithfully every reset. It felt wrong to leave it behind, and they were glad they remembered it before they had wandered too far away. When they reached Teddie again, Frisk quietly reached out with their other hand to the bear in question, and the bear quickly responded by taking it back in his with an accepting smile. Hand in hand, the two left the patch behind.

          But peace could only stay with Frisk for so long. As the two walked in relative silence (it could only be so quiet with those squeaks), they couldn't stop the memories from returning, nor the apprehension that rose up alongside it as they thought about the encounters that were destined to occur soon.

          Flowey was just around the bend. Toriel lay just beyond that.

          And Frisk didn't know what they would do when they had to face them.

          They tried not to panic when they passed through the arching pillars into the Ruins proper, trying instead to listen as Teddie babbled on about how nice the stone looked even though they kept missing pieces of his spiel. The bright, sunny patch they'd seen a hundred times before was just before the two, splitting apart the gloom as its frail light warmly spread across the ground and gave life to the once dead earth. Subconsciously, Frisk's hand tightened around Teddie's as they waited for the familiar sunshine-yellow face to appear in the patch's heart, offering his same vaguely cryptic 'advice' as he'd faithfully done every single reset.

          So when absolutely nothing happened, Frisk was immediately thrown for a loop. Two emotions battled for supremacy as Frisk tried to make sense of it, one relief and the other bewildered shock, two tide pools that swept them up in a dizzying current that knocked them around ceaselessly.

          Where is he? they wondered, looking for any sign of Flowey as the two carried on through the tiny cavern unmolested, He should be here! He's always here!

          But Flowey didn't appear. Frisk couldn't even see a petal.

          First Teddie, and now this. Something had to be wrong, something about this bizarre reset even. But Frisk didn't know what it could be, and it almost knocked the wind out of them. They'd gotten so used to knowing what would happen, to knowing what to expect, but this-!

          . . . This was new, and they were almost amazed at how much that frightened them.

          Teddie seemed to key into it, because the bear glanced at him, "Are you okay, Frisk-kun? Or . . . hm, is it Frisk-chan?"

          Now Frisk was looking up, but with the invisible war going on in their soul, they only managed a quiet, "Huh?"

          "Oh, um . . ." Teddie blushed, looking embarrassed as he rubbed his free hand against his head, "Are you a boy or a girl? I . . . kinda can't tell?"

          There wasn't a trace of malice behind the question, and yet Frisk couldn't quite contain their flinch. They looked down quickly, hoping the other wouldn't see as they mumbled, "Neither."

          Now Teddie sounded confused, "Huh? But . . . I don't get it, I thought people were either a boy or a girl on this side. At least, that's what Yosuke always said . . ."

          Well, Yosuke's dumb, Frisk thought, perhaps a bit too bitterly. But they were confused, and they were freaked out, and they didn't want to take it all out on Teddie, so better to vent internally. Even so, they really weren't in the mood to explain this, at least not in it's entirety. Maybe just enough so the bear understood.

          "Not everyone does. I don't. It never felt right," Frisk looked meaningfully at Teddie, and when they saw it still wasn't quite clicking for him, they decided to use an example, "You feel like a boy, right?"

          Teddie seemed indignant, "Well of course I do! That's a silly question! But, uh . . ."

          Frisk continued, stepping over a broken slab of stone, "Then that's right for you. It's not right for me, though. I don't feel like a boy, and I don't feel like a girl. I just . . . feel like a person. Does that make sense?"

          Teddie pondered that, looking as if Frisk had just introduced a new idea the bear had never considered before. Then, slowly, very slowly, he began to nod, "Okay, I think I get it. But then, what can I call you?" a glimmer of distress appeared in his eyes, and Frisk began to worry that things were about to go sour until the bear opened his mouth and said, "If kun is for a boy and chan is for a girl, I don't have any nicknames I can give you!"

          Oh. Ha. He was worried about not being able to give them a nickname. That was nice. Better than how other people reacted. If Frisk hadn't been stressing so acutely over Flowey's disappearance, they might have even laughed.

          "Just Frisk works for me," they said in a laugh's place, looking ahead. Then, after a cursory thought, they added, "But I like how chan sounds."

          "Oh. Y-you do?" Teddie nodded, distress vanishing like the morning mist as he answered with a pleased, " Okay, Frisk-chan it is!"

          Frisk smiled a little, even if it was just for a moment. Of course, Teddie was a monster. And monsters weren't as rigid as humans were about their beliefs. They were always willing to adapt, and never leaves things so gratuitously stuck in stone.

          That was when the dark corridor they'd been traversing opened out into the huge cavern set with the doors to the Ruin's entrance, with stairs and fallen red leaves that had Frisk brimming with nostalgia the longer they looked. Beside them, Teddie let out an awed gasp, "Wooooow!"

          Letting go of Teddie's hand, Frisk wandered over to space between the twin staircases, where a tiny glowing orb hovered like a lone firefly before a heavy patch of crimson foliage. Frisk gently caressed it, feeling it flicker warmly against their hand as if in greeting, and they smiled. Without pause, they allowed their thoughts to run together as their SOUL was tugged towards the evanescent light, and a sensation that felt like safety surrounded them; a cocoon of warm, thick blankets, the sound of rain gently pattering against the glass, a gentle voice as it sang you off to sleep.

          Then it ended, and a new memory was planted within the SAVE point.

          They had just been about to retract their hand when their thoughts brushed up against another memory, one that was darker, colder, and Frisk froze.

          Chara.

          It was still here. Granted, it was only an echo, a mere shadow of the malevolence that used to roost here . . . but even so, feeling that icy reflection so near to their SOUL reminded Frisk far too much of the voice that once had tormented them. They hadn't heard Chara since the reset, which they thanked every star they could name for . . . but even this came too uncomfortably close, and they snatched their hand away as if they had been burned.

          Shaking, Frisk turned to look at Teddie, who was staring up to the balcony above with a wondering expression. Good, he hadn't seen their panicked expression or their trembling. They didn't want to have to explain that to the bear, because no matter how well-meaning and kind, even he would find them disgusting.

          Then, Teddie's expression suddenly shifted into one of alarm, right as an old, sweet and painfully familiar voice spoke out in surprise, "Oh, my goodness! However did you find your way down here, my child?"

          Frisk spun around so quickly their back popped, head craning up to see the balcony above.

          And there she was. Clean purple robes, soft white fur, a face full of that same worried care she'd had shown them every time she'd seen them, and Frisk felt their eyes well up in joy.

          Toriel was here. And infinitely more importantly, Toriel was alive! She hadn't seen them yet, but that hardly mattered! Toriel was alright!

          And then suddenly Teddie was screaming, "M-m-m-MONSTER!!"

          . . . what?

          They didn't get a chance to ponder it, because in the next instant their face was smooshed in fuzzy fur as Teddie threw themselves in front of them, arms out and doing his best to hide them, "D-d-don't worry, Frisk, I'll keep you safe! J-just stay behind me!"

          "What? Oh, no, I do not mean you harm, children!" Toriel had moved down the stairs by now, her steps slow and unprovoking as she held up placating hands. She was smiling softly, comfortingly, just the way Frisk remembered, "Please, you are safe here. I promise."

          Teddie was shaking from head to foot, but he stood his ground even though Frisk didn't understand why he was so afraid. He was a monster too, wasn't he?

          But now Toriel was reaching out, arms as open and welcoming and warm as they'd ever been, face as motherly and kind and gentle as it always was. Seeing her there, whole again and reaching for them with that same affection they'd thought they'd never see again, made something crack inside of Frisk. Guilt welled up, as did relief and happiness and sorrow and a whole slew of emotions they couldn't even begin to sift through.

          I killed her, but she was alive again.

          She hated me, but she's smiling so warmly now.

          She turned to dust and cursed me, but at this moment she was looking at them with so much affection.

          She'd held them, she'd wanted them, she'd loved them, and they'd missed her, they'd missed her, they'd missed her so much!

          And in the span of heartbeat, with so many emotions clouding their mind and so many contradicting thoughts fuzzing their brain, Frisk found themselves suddenly diving forward and throwing themselves into her arms.

          "Oh!" Toriel's soft gasp of surprise reverberated through her body, and the sensation of large, furry arms enveloping them in an embrace back felt like a dream. This hadn't changed. Her gentleness, her warmth, her softness, that hadn't changed, even if so much already had, and they were so relieved!

          There was so much Frisk wanted to say. So many confessions, so many regrets, so many apologies, but they knew it would just confuse her. But it didn't matter. She was okay. She was okay.

          They were sobbing now, openly, and they couldn't stop. They didn't want to stop. They just wanted to bury their face in her warm, cinnamon-scented robe and never let go again.

          "Hush, my child, everything is fine now," Toriel murmured to them, her deep, gentle voice soothing and soft in cadence, "Nothing bad will happen to you here. You're safe. You're safe."

          And Frisk wanted to believe her. That everything was fine. It didn't matter what had happened in the past, because now it never existed. It would never, ever exist again, Frisk swore it upon their own SOUL!

          They'd never repeat their mistake. They would never take her warmth for granted again. Frisk swore . . .

          Her hand was gently running over their head now, whispering condolences as Frisk tears gradually began to slow. By the end of it, they felt perfectly drained. But they also felt so incredibly light.

           "U-um . . . Frisk-chan . . ."

          Oh . . . right . . .

          Peeling themselves away from Toriel's hug felt harder and more taxing than circumventing the entirety of the Core, but they did it regardless. But she kept a comforting hand on their shoulder, and her warm smile gave them all the determination they needed as they finally stepped back. Gently, she wiped her free thumb under their eyes, brushing away their tears as she asked, "There. Are you feeling better now, my child?"

          Frisk gave a soft nod, smiling back, happy to just stand there, looking at her, feeling her, knowing this wasn't a cruel illusion, a deceptive trick of their mind. Toriel was the one to break eye-contact first, shifting her gaze to Teddie as the bear stood awkwardly in place, looking unsure about what to do. But he didn't seem afraid anymore, which was a step in the right direction.

          "That was very brave of you, standing up to protect your friend, little one," Toriel said, and Frisk could tell she meant it.

          The bear shuffled, flushing, "O-oh, uh . . . heh-heh, thanks. Um . . ." he looked down now, tapping his paws together, "I-I'm sorry about that, really. I thought you might hurt us."

          Toriel shook her head, understanding in her eyes, "No. It is dangerous to trust strangers negligently, especially down here. But I assure you, you have nothing to fear from me."

          Teddie perked up, nodding exuberantly, "Oh, yeah, I know that now! Frisk-chan trusts you, so I trust you too!"

          He toddled over to them, feet squeaking as he held out a paw to the gentle goat-monster, "My name's Teddie! It's nice to meet you!"

          Toriel smiled in return, gently accepting his paw in her own large one, "A pleasure, Teddie. You may call me Toriel."

          Teddie's ears perked up, "Toriel? Hee-hee, our names both start with T!"

          "It seems they do," Toriel agreed, eyes twinkling with amusement.

          Frisk let out a breath they didn't know they had been holding, relieved that Teddie seemed over his bizarre episode and everyone was getting along now. They must have been louder than they'd thought, because suddenly both were looking at them.

          Toriel gently stroked their back, and they leaned into it gratefully as she asked, "Are you alright, my child?"

          Frisk nodded, feeling inexplicably sleepy all of a sudden.

          Teddie looked concerned, "Are you sure, Frisk-chan? You were crying really hard, and you sounded . . . really sad."

          "I'm okay, I just . . . remembered something," Frisk supplied, shrugging and hoping the weariness in their voice would ward away the others worried curiosity.

          That was when Toriel's face brightened, "Frisk-chan? Is that your name?"

          Frisk looked up at her, startled. They'd . . . never actually told her their name before, they realized. Not ever. Not once. To hear it come from her lips now was so strange to them that their thoughts became stuck on an endless repeat of 'cannot compute', until Teddie was chipping in helpfully, "Mhm! Oh, well, their real name's Frisk, I just call them that because it's cute!"

          "I see," Toriel hummed thoughtfully, looking down at them, "That's a very lovely name, Frisk."

          And that was the point where their brain tapped out completely, and their face flushed a brilliant crimson.

          Toriel chuckled, a sound both delightful and sort of embarrassing given the current situation, and Frisk sunk their head into the collar of their sweater.

          But the laughter son faded, and her face turned a little more sober as she looked at Teddie, "Now, I know you must be a little confused, but how did you come to be here Teddie? A human such as Frisk I know can only have fallen from above, but a monster should not have found their way into this place. How did you?"

          At this, Teddie's face filled with confusion, and he said, "Huh? I'm not a monster."

          . . . what?

          "What?" Toriel asked, vocalizing Frisk's puzzlement.

          "I don't know how I got here. But I'm not a monster," Teddie said again, clarifying nothing. Then his eyes lit up, "Oh, here, hang on!"

          And then his head was suddenly popping off to reveal a . . . human. A blonde-haired, blue-eyed human boy of maybe adolescent age, wearing a work apron with dark, bolded words spelling 'JUNES' printed along the front. He waved at them, grinning brightly, "Ta-da!~"

          Frisk's mouth had dropped, and Toriel murmured a quiet and surprised, "Oh my."

          Teddie gently set his head(?) aside, running his fingers through his hair as he said, "Ha, I probably should have said something sooner, huh? But this is me! Zero-percent of the fur, but one-hundred percent of the same lovable Teddie, ha-ha!"

          "Well . . . I suppose that answers my question," Toriel said, an expression of baffled amusement warring on her face.

          Frisk, on the other hand, was completely taken aback. How on earth was another human here? What part did he have to play in any of this?! A monster they'd maybe understood, even if it had still been a bit confusing. There was no telling when the ambient magic down here would conjure up strange things. But a human?

          Well . . . they supposed that explained his reaction to Toriel.

          "So, um . . ." Teddie was looking at Toriel now, curiosity sparkling brightly in his sky blue eyes, "Are, uh, you a monster?"

          Toriel nodded, "Yes. I am. You will find all sorts down here in the Underground. But I promise you, I am nothing like the tales you've undoubtedly heard of on the surface."

          Teddie backpedaled rapidly, waving his hands desperately and shaking his head, "No, no, no, I don't mean it like that! You're not bad, you're really super nice, and you smell good too, like cinnamon!"

          Toriel chuckled, "It's alright, my child. You haven't hurt my feelings."

          "Oh . . . whew," Teddie sighed, looking relieved.

          "Hm, it truly has been some time since I last had a human visitor, let alone two. I must admit, I'm quite excited," Toriel turned away then with a sweep of her robes, looking up to the grand balcony and saying, "Now, I know this place must seem frightening, but you'll soon learn that the Ruins are nothing to fear. Come, I will guide you both through the catacombs. Follow me."

          Toriel began to move to the stairs, though her pace was slow as she waited patiently for them to follow. Teddie quickly popped his other head back on, fully reasserting control of his . . . suit, before casually trotting after the goat monster. Frisk quickly followed as well, not wanting to be left behind.

          Still . . .

          Frisk found their eyes wandering to Teddie. This was the first human they'd seen in a long time, and yet he acted almost nothing like the ones they'd met in the past. His kindness reminded Frisk of a monster, in truth, and they really had believed that that was what he was until he'd taken his mask off. Plus, his LV was low, just like Frisk's. So he wasn't violent or dangerous, that much was clear. And . . . he'd done nothing but try and help Frisk all throughout their short time together. He'd tried to defend them, even if there had been nothing to defend them from.

          Maybe . . . maybe Frisk was just worrying about this too much. Maybe . . . they should just let it go.

          Teddie blinked and glanced back at them, then smiled when he saw they were looking at him. Tentatively, Frisk smiled back.

          Maybe . . . this human was alright. The sort of human Frisk had wished to find on the surface, the same sort who Chara had sworn didn't exist. The type of human . . . that could mean hope for all who dwelled under the earth. They wanted to believe that.

          Behind them, just out of a sight, a flower vanished back into the dirt and followed.

Chapter Text

          Ms. Toriel was perhaps one of the nicest people Teddie had ever met.

          Well, er . . . monster. Which sometimes still felt awkward to say, because every definition he'd come to know about 'monsters' was that they were bad. They were evil. They were wrong.

          And Toriel was the exact opposite. Yeah, he maybe kinda sorta jumped a little ahead of himself when he first saw her, because she was so big and had horns and paws and was in no way a human at all . . . but from the way she smelled, she hadn't been a Shadow, either. She smelled like cinnamon and sweets and fire, and Shadows smelled like cold. Plus, the way she comforted Frisk when they cried with nothing short of Sensei-levels of empathy was calming, and how she complimented him for standing up to protect Frisk without being offended that he'd been afraid of her was relaxing. And once that ice had cracked, he had warmed up to her instantly.

          She was very patient with him and Frisk, taking the time to explain how all the strange lever-thingies worked and what plates to step on and where to go through the confusing maze of ancient tunnels.

          "Ms. Toriel is so nice.~" he whispered to Frisk as they followed the large goat woman through another low-ceiling corridor, "Don't you think so?"

          Frisk nodded, lips turned up into a fond smile, but they didn't quite meet his excited gaze, "Mhm, she is. I like her a lot."

          "I do too," he replied, but by then, Frisk was already moving ahead. Privately, he felt a little sad. Ever since he'd taken his fur off and shown them his human form, the other had grown a little cagey, like they weren't sure what to make of it, what to make of him. Teddie supposed that was his fault, though. He really should have spoken up sooner. So he tried not to let it bother him.

          The next room they entered was fairly small, decorated only by dilapidated dummy with numerous holes in it's rucksack skin, fluff falling out through the frayed seams.

          "All right, children, this next step is important, so listen well," Toriel said as she turned to them, making sure she had both their attention before continuing, "As humans living in the Underground, monsters may attack you. You will need to be prepared for this situation."

          Teddie tilted his head, frowning, "What? Why would they attack us? We haven't done anything."

          Toriel's face softened, but her smile was a sad one, "I know, young one. But some of the people down here have grown desperate, enough to even attack children such as yourselves. It is regrettable . . . but it is the truth. With that said, however, worry not! The process for defending yourselves is very simple!"

          She gestured to the dummy, one dangling eye watching them impassively as she spoke, "When monsters attack you, you will inevitably enter a fight. While you are in a fight, simply strike up a friendly conversation! Stall for time, and I will come resolve the conflict."

          Oh. Well. That sounded easy enough.

          Toriel moved to stand by the door, then pointed at the dummy again, "Practice on the dummy. To help simulate the experience, I will draw your SOULS out into the open. Do not worry; it won't hurt a bit!"

          Teddie was about to ask her what she meant when a sudden warmth blossomed against his chest, and he visibly started at the sheer familiarity of the sensation. There was a tug, like someone was pulling on the collar of his shirt, and for a brief, brief moment, a memory he could not quite recall flittered on the edges of his mind like a hummingbird just out of a reach of a flower.

          Then the warmth bloomed outward, away from his body, and the almost-memory faded.

          And both Toriel and Frisk gasped.

          Teddie's jumped in surprise, adrenaline spiking as he looked between the two, alarmed, "What? What?! What happened?!"

          Toriel had gone rigid with shock, one hand over her mouth while the other was pressed tight to her heart. Frisk was standing beside him, eyes blown wide and both hands clasped over their mouth in stunned alarm. The lower half of their face was hued with red, and for a heart-stopping moment, Teddie thought they'd somehow hurt themselves and were bleeding. Then he looked closer . . . and saw that that wasn't the case at all.

          Floating there, right over Frisk's chest, was what Teddie could only describe as a heart, like the ones Nana-chan would doodle in her notebooks and art projects. It's surface was smooth and impeccably flawless, but thin, looking as fragile as blown glass. Within, a light pulsed as if it were alive, the inside constantly shifting like liquid within a snow globe, saturating its glassy exterior and the world around it with a rich crimson glow, warm and beautiful.

          "Whoa . . ." he breathed, taken aback by the strange object and its otherworldly (and pretty) light. He'd never seen that before. Had it always been there?

          But Frisk wasn't looking at that. They were looking at him, and slowly, slowly, they pointed at something just below Teddie's gaze.

          And there he saw it. Floating right in front him, right before his eyes, he saw a heart like the one floating serenely in front of Frisk. But this one wasn't pretty.

          It was broken.

          Scattered pieces as gray as slate hung in the air before him, jagged sides not even touching, the fragments only forming a three-dimensional mosaic outline of the whole that should be there. It didn't not glimmer and it did not shine, but what color he could see hovered in the heart's core. Thin, shadowy strands of red threaded themselves to every broken piece before merging together into a wild, unruly tangle that held the wreckage together, bobbing quietly at the heart's center, and what light did run through the filaments was faint and feeble, hardly holding a candle's worth to Frisk's ruby glow.

          "What . . . is that?" he asked, feeling unusually subdued.

            Slowly, Frisk removed their hands and stepped closer, peering at the broken, fractured thing floating in front of him with their mouth ajar and their eyes colored by sadness.

          "Oh, my child . . ." Toriel was coming closer to him now, face full of concern as she observed the heart, and with a thrill of horror, Teddie saw that her eyes were welling with tears, "What on earth has happened to you?"

          Teddie was bewildered, "I-I don't get it, what is this thing? What's wrong with it?"

          Though perhaps that wasn't the most needed question. Teddie could see very plainly why they were so freaked out. He was freaked out!

          "Child, that . . . that is your SOUL," Toriel stooped to a knee, becoming eye level with him and gently taking his paw into her own, "A SOUL is something every human and monster possess. It is the very culmination of our being, the energy to which our life is tied. A human one is usually strong, full of color like Frisk's is. That yours is this way . . . it is worrying, Teddie."

          His soul? This was . . . his soul?

          He'd read it somewhere before, what that word meant; it was something every human had, or claimed to have, different from an ego but just as important, if not more. It was something special to every person, something unique to every individual. Many a time, he'd wonder if he had one himself.

          And now that he saw it, could compare it to the rich heart beating before Frisk, he couldn't even feel surprised. Because wasn't this appropriate? For a creature born of only fragments of human desire to have a SOUL built upon fragments as well? It was only natural. How could he expect to receive a whole, unbroken SOUL that blossomed with life and color when he wasn't human? When he was just a Shadow? That was just a silly, silly expectation. And he'd be even sillier for believing it.

          Somewhere inside, he felt he should be happy he had even this much. But the disappointment was a bit too bitter to swallow down.

          Toriel wiped her eyes, a gleam of resolve shining in their place as she rose to her feet. At the same time, both their SOULS disappeared back into their bodies, the fight drawing to an unexpected close.

          "Come. I had hoped to surprise you later, but this is much more important," Toriel said, grabbing both their hands as she turned away. Her hand was warm and almost wrapped completely around his own, covered in silky soft fur that were comparable to his own fuzzy mitts. There was comfort in her hold, and tenderness too, even though her face was lined with a dread Teddie could vaguely recall seeing somewhere else. He couldn't quite remember where, and he didn't know what else to do with this current state of affairs, so instead he settled for just holding it tight. "We'll be home soon, and then I can take a closer look at your SOUL."

          Starting to feel overwhelmed by her worry, and before he could sink too deep into his thoughts, Teddie defaulted back into the only strategy he could think of; try to placate her with reassurance, "I-I'm okay! I don't know why it's this way, but I feel fine!"

          Well, actually, he's pretty sure he knows exactly why it's this way . . . but he can't tell them that. He can't.

          "We'll see," was Toriel's quiet, nearly missed response.

          Without pause, she tugged them along behind her and headed deeper into the Ruins.

          -

          Toriel remained glued to their side throughout the whole journey, expertly leading them through every room and warding away any other monsters they saw, all of whom turned tail and fled when they saw the goat woman coming with purpose in her steps. In all that time, she hadn't said a word, merely led them along while occasionally giving worrying glances his way, as if she feared he'd fall over at any second.

          He wished he could tell her she didn't have to worry . . . but that would mean he'd have to tell her he wasn't human at all.

          So instead, he just allowed himself to be towed along.

          When they finally did reach their destination though, Teddie was actually sort of surprised at what he saw.

          A quaint house of carved stone stood before them, with two lit windows and scarlet leaves clustering over the floor like a welcome mat, courtesy of the single sable tree that stood tall and proud in the front yard despite the lack of sunlight.

          "This way," Toriel said, pulling them along.

          It was just as nice inside, with cushiony rugs and flowerpots and walls all done up with wood, homey despite the gloom of the caverns just outside the door. The ceiling was tall, enough to accommodate Toriel's great size, so it all seemed a little dauntingly large at first. But it was safe, too. Here was safe.

          He only got a cursory glance before he was tugged along even further into the house, into a decently sized and cozy sitting room with a large, cushion-lined chair and a great fireplace that flickered with gentle flames. A table was set up in the corner, and Toriel made him sit in one of the small wooden seats available. Small by her standards, anyway. Teddie's own feet still swung a good half-a-foot above the ground.

          "Make yourselves comfortable," Toriel told them as she guided Frisk to the other seat, "I must go collect a few books, but it should not take me long."

          She gave one last worried glance at Teddie, and he could see her reluctance to leave clearly, but she pushed it down moments later and headed back through the door.

          Then it was just him and Frisk alone, with only the crackling fire to break the silence.

          Frisk fidgeted, worrying at their bottom lip but constantly making fretful passes at him like they wanted to speak but didn't know what to say.

          Teddie decided to break it for them. One last shot at calming everyone down even though that was looking less and less likely, "I'm really okay, you know. I swear."

          " . . . really?" Frisk responded slowly, quietly, a hue of disbelief coloring their tone, clutching their stick tight, "Are . . . are you sure?"

          Teddie nodded hard, "I'm positive! I feel bearfectly fine!"

          Frisk frowned, eyes falling on the dark rings rippling out through the wood of the table, "It just . . . looks really bad," a ghost of a smile crossed their lips then, "Its claws for alarm, you know?"

          His own lips twitched up, and even though the amusement in Frisk's voice was forced, he tried to reciprocate it in full, "I'm okay, Frisk-chan. So no need to fuzz over me."

          "If only we could, my child. But something like this is far too delicate to plush aside."

          Teddie whirled around in surprise as Toriel returned through the archway, a small smile on her face and with two thin books pressed to her chest. Any other circumstance, Teddie would have been absolutely delighted to discover the kind lady made puns too. Right now, though, it was said a bit too somberly to be funny.

          Pulling up a stool, Toriel elegantly took a seat and set her cargo down on the table before she held out her paws to him. At once, that familiar flush of warmth ran through his core, and his 'SOUL' became manifest once more in all it's shattered glory. He could feel it's pulse like his own heartbeat, and he couldn't stop his self-conscious squirming as the other two looked at it with those same sad eyes.

          "What, uh . . . what are you going to do?" he asked, idly knocking an ankle against the leg of the chair.

          "I am simply going to examine it," she replied soothingly, cradling the fragmented SOUL between her hands but not quite touching, "I promise, it won't hurt at all."

          He still tensed when her paws began to glow, a soft light the color of newborn leaves shrouding the table in green. Slowly, the light wavered up and gently looped around his SOUL until it encased it completely, and strangely enough, he could feel it enfolding the ethereal object like he would his own arm. It was cool, soothing, like pleasantly chilled water over his skin on a hot, dry day, and some of the tension he was holding bled away.

          "What is that?" he asked softly, staring, enraptured by the glow.

          Toriel did not look up from her work, but she answered just the same, "Magic, my child. Every monster possess' some degree of it, and it comes in many different forms. This, for example, is healing magic."

          Healing magic . . . no wonder it felt so nice. Even if it was a little different from what he'd grown used to, at the core it was the same, and Teddie relaxed completely now that understood what was happening. Not that he needed healing . . . at least, he thinks he doesn't . . .

          "Is it okay?" Frisk asked after a minute of silence, looking anxious.

          Toriel hummed, brow knitting together as she dismissed her magic, the glow dissipating into the air, "Hm, it is . . . hard to say. Physically, you are perfectly fine, however . . ."

          She seemed hesitant to speak again, resting her hands on the table, one on top of the other, thumb running in idle circles over her fur.

          "Ms. Toriel?" Teddie questioned, head titling and feeling anxious for a reason he couldn't understand.

          At the sound of his voice, Toriel seemed to at last reach a conclusion to her thoughts, for she nodded to herself before turning to Frisk, "Frisk, dear, would you accompany me for a moment?"

          The young child's eyes narrowed, but they did as she asked and hopped down from the seat. Taking their hand, Toriel gently pulled them towards the door and vanished beyond with only a soft, "I'll return soon."

          And once again, Teddie was left alone.

          Sighing, he wrung his paws together and tried to think positively. Everything was fine. It . . . maybe his SOUL looked bad, but it was fine. He was a Shadow, of course it'd be different from a human's.

          Right?

          . . . He wished his friends were here. They'd know what to do. They'd know what to say. But they weren't. He was all alone down here. He wished he had a clue on how to get back, but he couldn't even begin to plan out a strategy with so little evidence to go on.

          Or was he just excusing helplessness again? He bet that if Sensei were here, he would have probably figured it all out by now.

          Sensei . . . Teddie wondered if he remembered what had happened between them after this strange reset. Or had he forgotten? He'd said he wasn't in control, but he'd known so much, so maybe . . . maybe something would stick. Maybe he'd remember, and figure out where Teddie was. Maybe he and his friends would all come find him. Maybe . . .

          . . . hm . . . he'd never liked thinking about these sorts of things.       

          He jumped when a shape sat beside him, not having seen Toriel return. The goat woman was looking at him with sad eyes, but her face was filled with patience and motherly concern as she folded her hands on the table. To his surprise, he saw that Frisk wasn't with her.

          "Where's Frisk-chan at?" he asked, puzzled.

          "I took them to their room," she replied, nodding her head to the door, "I . . . wished to speak with you alone for a moment."

          Teddie sat up a little straighter, ears perking up as he waited for her to continue. He tried not to feel too nervous as he watched her.

          Toriel allowed her gaze to drift, falling to the fire crackling softly in the hearth, tone growing solemn as she finally spoke, "First, let me explain to you a little about how SOULS work. As I said before, a SOUL is the physical manifestation of our beings, our lives. But human SOULS and monster SOULS work a little differently from each other. You see, humans are physical creatures, made to endure, to survive. Their SOULS are hardy and strong, able to withstand even death for a short time before departing. Monsters are . . . weaker."

          "Weaker?" he spoke without meaning too, but she indulged him all the same.

          "Yes. You see, where humans are physical, monsters are magic. Our bodies are composed of it, as are our SOULS, and as such, they do not develop the same hardiness a human one does. Because of our fragile nature, we are susceptible to afflictions that can damage even our SOULS," Toriel explained.

          Teddie tilting his head, absorbing it slowly. It was interesting, but . . . "What does that have to do with, erm . . . my SOUL?"

          "It may have everything to do with it," Toriel continued gently, turning back to him, "It has been a very long time since I last saw a human, but I know some elements between our two races remain the same. Things such as how our health can directly affect the SOUL."

          She shifted in her seat so she sat fully facing him now, reaching out to clasp one of his paws, "Physically, you are fine, I did not lie. However, in the case of monsters, emotional stability is just as critical as the physical, if not more so. Depression, fear, emotional pain, they can all leave scars over our SOULS that the body does not share, to the point where it could even shatter. For humans, it may act differently, but at it's core it is the same."

          She looked into his face, eyes filled with earnestness as she gently spoke on, "I asked Frisk to leave so you would not have to worry about another pair of ears overhearing this. And even then, if you are not comfortable, you do not have to answer me. But . . ." her grip tightened, just slightly, "Teddie, is it possible for you to tell me why you came to the mountain? Is it possible for you to tell me . . . if anything is wrong?"

           Is something wrong, Teddie?

          Its a question he's heard more times than he cares to count. Its a question that's also so achingly familiar, that for a moment, Toriel's face blurs away to be replaced by Yosuke's, Rise's, Naoto's, Sensei's, and he has to blink so she comes back into view again.

          And his response is so deeply ingrained into him by this point that his answer falls out with robotic effortlessness, a scripted line of dialogue he's rehearsed far, far too many times, "I'm fine."

          Even so, he can't quite muster any strength to smile sincerely or even look her in the eye as he says it, because he suddenly realizes how transient this moment is. This was Toriel's first time asking this question, but how soon until the second? The third? The fiftieth? The resets could-would-still happen even down here, and once he remembers that small, simple, horrible fact, it sits in his stomach like lead, heavy and painful.

          She knew he was lying, he knows she knows, but she allowed it to slide. Instead, she simply released his hand and pulled him into a hug.

          Her robe was soft and sweet-smelling, and he allowed himself to lean against it, not willing to complain, or flirt, or do anything. He was too comfy to even try, and beyond that, a bit too melancholic.

          They stayed that way for long enough that he dozed off, only jolting awake again when Toriel leaned back.

          "Come. I think its time for bed," she quietly said, rising to her feet. She helped him down from his seat, then grabbed his hand and led him back through the door they'd come in from. It was no darker or lighter than it had been when he'd first arrived, a result of the unchanging 'sky' of the underground, but he still felt very tired. He wondered if it was nighttime in Inaba now. He hoped everyone was doing alright, and was getting good sleep . . .

          The hall Toriel took him too was long, with three doors on the left-side wall and numerous plants dotting the floor for decoration. She moved to the first one, and it gently swung open with nary a creak. Beyond was a room that was quaint but comfy-looking, with a set of oak cupboards, drawers, a bed, and a little lamp that at the moment was flicked on. Frisk was sitting on the floor, absently doodling on some paper, but at the sound of the door opening, they immediately got to their feet. Without a word, they sprang forward and slammed into Teddie's side, hard enough he felt the air get knocked out of him.

          "Oof!" he grunted, wrapping his arms around Frisk reflexively, "H-hi, Frisk-chan. Nice to see you too."

          Frisk didn't reply. They didn't let go, either.

          Toriel's smile was an affectionate one as she watched them before gesturing to the room, "This room belongs to you now. I know there is only one bed right now, but I will work on remedying that soon."

          Teddie offered her a smile, not wanting her to overexert herself for his sake, "Its okay. Frisk-chan can have the bed! I can just sleep in the closet."

          He didn't quite understand the alarm that flickered in Toriel's eyes, but she schooled it quickly with a shake of her head, "Oh, no, I insist! It is no trouble, young one. However, that does not solve what we will do tonight . . ."

          It was then that Frisk spoke up, quiet but sure, "We can use the same bed. Its big," they looked up at him, "I don't mind."

          Teddie smiled, touched by their offer, "Aw, Frisk-chan . . ."

          "That sounds more than agreeable," Toriel agreed with a smile as she gently urged Teddie inside.

          The carpet was springy under his feet, and the bed looked just as invitingly soft and comfortable. Sleepiness was tugging at his eyes, and he was only just beginning to notice how achy the soles of his feet were. With a sigh that turned into a yawn, he popped out of his fur as he habitually did every night, stretching his human arms over his head.

          He was still wearing his Junes work outfit, he noticed. Hm . . . that's right, he had forgotten to take it off last reset. It was unusual that it would have crossed over, but then, everything was unusual right now.

          The apron was easy enough to shrug off and hang on the border of the bed, but he didn't know what to do with the rest of it. He didn't think there'd be any suitable pjs down here for him to use, which was a shame since the outfit was kind of uncomfortable. And itchy.

          "Hey, um, Ms. Toriel?" he questioned, "You don't happen to have any spare pajamas just laying around, do you?"

          "Hm, maybe not, but I think there's something you can use, just for tonight," she replied, heading down the corridor. She returned minutes later, this time carrying something in her hands, which she quietly handed to him, "It is a little old, and perhaps a little big, but it should do for tonight."

          Teddie took it, the soft fabric between his fingers feeling like fleece and smelling like dust and sugar. Letting it roll open, he was surprised to see a robe similar to what Toriel wore, the same crest and all. It was marginally smaller than hers, but even as he pulled it on, it still pooled around his feet and swallowed his hands.

          But it was warm and comfy and leagues better than his current clothes (which he'd shimmy out of later), and he appreciated it enormously, "Thank you, Ms. Toriel! Just what the sandman ordered! Or lovely sandlady, in this case.~"

          Yes, he still had it.

          Toriel giggled, the dour clouds from before breaking apart into something a bit better as she smiled warmly at him, "Oh, now, I think you can do better than me, little one. I am a little on the old side, after all."

          "But that just means your mature and wise, and that's smokin' hot!" alright, maaaybe he was chewing the scenery a bit, but if it made Toriel laugh, it was worth it.

          And laugh she did, snorting before she could place a demure paw over her mouth in time.

          Then, another voice spoke up, mischief light in their tone, "Mhm. You could say . . . you even set a fire to our SOULS."

          Teddie grinned at Frisk, who was sitting on the bed with their shoes kicked off and smiling like the Cheshire Cat as Toriel laughed aloud, winking when they saw he was looking.

          When she finally was able to straighten herself out, she made a show of bracing her hands on her hips and huffing, "Alright, I dare say its time for you both to go to sleep. Come on, into bed with you imps!"

          She ushered them to it, leaving no room for compromise until both were under the covers side by side. It was a really comfy bed, too, with plenty of space for him and Frisk to share. He could feel his eyes drooping already even as Toriel gently pushed him down, tucking the sheets around him and his new roommate with ease.

          A bit sleepily, he said, "Heh, I've never been tucked in before. Iss' nice . . ."

          Toriel paused, then resumed, "Well, I am glad you enjoy it."

          Once they were sufficiently bundled up, he heard her stand. He was droning out now, the bed and the robe and the warmth teasing away the unease and uncertainty that had come upon his arrival here, so he was only half-aware of it.

          There was a hand on his head, and a gentle voice whispering, "If ever you do need to talk, Teddie, my door is always open."

          Then the light flickered off, and Toriel moved away. The last he heard from her before she shut the door was a quiet, "Good night, my children."

          And the door clicked closed.

          Teddie was just about to drift off when a small hand suddenly enclosed around his arm, tugging gently, and he heard Frisk ask softly, "Are you really alright?"

          "Hm?" he groaned, half-asleep.

          "Your . . . SOUL," Frisk continued, "Is it . . . okay?"

          Oh . . . that.

          He wished he could tell Frisk why it was the way it was. But he couldn't. But he didn't want Frisk to worry about him, to ask the same things the others had done to no avail. So, in the quiet of this room, he whispered back, "Mhm. It's alright."

          Frisk made a noise in the back of their throat, one Teddie couldn't quite decipher, so he let it slide. However, his new friend did keep their hand fisted in his sleeve, and he found he liked the comforting weight it left.

          "We'll be okay," Frisk whispered, so quiet it was hard to hear, and he wasn't sure if they were trying to comfort him or themselves. He was about to reply to lift their sprits, when with a touch more levity, they added, "Onwards and upwards, right?"

          Teddie chuckled, feeling a little comforted by that, "Yeah. Onwards and upwards."

          "Good night, Teddie," he heard Frisk murmur.

          He smiled, "Good night, Frisk-chan. Sweet dreams."

          Silence fell again, and in it, Teddie couldn't stave off a few final thoughts. There were so many things that had happened today, so many new things, it was hard to keep track of it all. Monsters, SOULS, the underground, the uncertainty of the resets . . . even his own SOUL.

          Emotional stability is just as critical, Toriel had said, as if that explained why it had appeared so broken.

          But no . . . he was a Shadow. Of course it looked different. At least, that's what he wanted to believe.

          . . . But at least he wasn't stuck down here alone. Ms. Toriel was kind and gentle, and Frisk was funny and sweet. He missed his friends, of course he did, and he worried about them a lot. But at least he could find comfort in the fact that he was the only one who had been displaced here.

          But tomorrow was a new day. He could sort it all out then.

          Onwards and upwards.

          With that last quiet thought, he finally slipped away into a world of dreams.

Chapter Text

          Frisk lay awake for some time, thinking. Aside from the occasional creak of wood and Teddie's reasonably quiet snores, no sound disturbed the silence.

          They were back. They could really reflect on that now. True, some things had changed, but this second chance was far too precious a luxury to waste on worrying about a few minor differences here and there.

          Okay, well, maybe not minor, but Frisk refused to allow themselves to be bothered by it.

          Beside them, their unexpected companion shifted in his sleep, and Frisk glanced at him. A human, like they hadn't seen for what felt like years. But he was a nice one, who made silly puns and tried his best to keep Frisk happy . . . even despite the damage to his own SOUL.

          Even now, Frisk still worried over that. For monsters, Frisk had discovered that sometimes it was possible for their SOULS to develop scars, especially if something bad enough had happened to them. They'd learned it . . . they'd learned the last time. But they hadn't thought a human one was capable of such.

          So seeing those fissures running through Teddie's had honestly frightened them. If whatever secrets the boy was hiding was bad enough to cause that, then . . . then maybe the reason he was here was a lot worse than Frisk could have imagined. And their heart went out to him, it really did. But they were resolved to not bring it up unnecessarily. Prying would only make it worse. Instead, they'd help in other ways.

          Maybe . . . maybe once Teddie found out how nice it was down here, those cracks would heal. They wanted to hope that would help, at least.

          But speaking of the underground . . .

          Frisk sighed, rolling over onto their side to face the wall.

          They were scared. Truly thinking about the future, of what lay ahead . . . it scared them. Not only that, but . . . but the guilt . . . just seeing Toriel had made them feel so many things, much of it regret . . . they didn't know if they could handle it again. They didn't know if they could look at all their friends without seeing their faces right before Chara . . . before they had killed them. They didn't think they could handle talking and laughing and sharing jokes with all the while knowing that if they knew the truth, those kind monsters would want nothing to do with them, even if Frisk well and truly deserved it.

          'If your really my friend, then don't come back.'

          Frisk froze.

          That had not been a stray thought inside their head. That had been a voice. A voice outside their head. A voice inside the room.

          A voice that was speaking to them . . .

          They didn't move, clutching their sheets tighter and hoping, praying, that maybe they'd just imagined it.

          But then it came again, mocking, cutting, cold, "Oh, hiding under your sheets now? Don't bother, you know this had to happen at some point."

          They knew. That didn't mean they had to listen. Beside them, Teddie slept on, undisturbed.

          "Knock it off. It's childish," a note of bitter resentment entered the entity's voice, "Besides, I would have thought you would have been over the moon, ready to gloat in my face."

          " . . . not everyone's like you," Frisk murmured. But they knew they were delaying the inevitable. The longer this went on, who knew what the entity would do to make them pay attention. So, inhaling through their nose and steeling themselves even as their nerves rattled beneath their skin like a noisemaker, they finally sat up and turned around.

          Chara stood across from them, leaning against the wall, their body draped in shadow. The only thing Frisk could make out clearly was the cut stripe of their sweater, the same they'd seen in the void, and the red, red, red glow of their eyes.

          Frisk watched as those same eyes narrowed, ruby slits in the darkness, "Oh, now you're listening."

          "What do you want?" Frisk asked, tone terse, body rigid, and hands fisted into the thick quilts around them. Truly, they didn't want to talk to this creature. They didn't want to interact with it at all. But they knew Chara now, knew they would persist with speaking until they ran their voice hoarse, whether Frisk acknowledged them or not. Frisk didn't have to in order to hear the other's voice, after all.

          "The same as I've always wanted," was Chara's cheap reply, their mild half-shrug belying the irritation in their eyes, "Your SOUL, and the erasure of this world. True, you've . . . unexpectedly set me back a bit . . ." their tone grew clipped when they said that, but softened back into fake cordiality seconds after, "But it's only a matter of time before you need my help again."

          "No," Frisk snapped at once, fingers clenching, "I won't listen to you again! Not after last time!"

          "Oh, I think you will. Unless you've somehow found a way to get passed Undyne and all the rest without me, you're stuck," Chara said, chin up in smug confidence, "Or even when you let your gaurd down. All it takes for an infestation is one little crack, you know."

          "Then there won't be any cracks," Frisk promised, sharply turning their head away from the other. But inside, they felt their heart quicken at the thought of an unseen predator lurking in their own mind, waiting for their will to falter, to weaken.

          "Tch. As if I believe that. You're cracking right now; they all must hate me, they all wouldn't want to see me anymore, it's all my fault," Chara mocked them in a disturbing impersonation of Frisk's voice, all lilting and soft, but cold to the core. A shift in the dark, the outline of a hand tapping against the side of a skull, "I can hear it, you know? And you want to know something? You're absolutely right."

          Chara stepped forward then, and Frisk tried to not cower under their stare, to control the shaking of the their hands as the creature before them drew nearer, "It is you're fault. True, I held the knife, but you were the one who let me out. Both our hands are dirty, and there's no cleaning them now."

          Frisk felt tears prick their eyes, hot and cold at the same time, "I won't do it again. I don't care how many times I die, if it keeps you away from them, then fine!"

          Chara tsked, like an adult to a child, crooning, "Aw, see, you misunderstand me yet again. You see, it doesn't matter whether you let me out or not, Frisk. The fact is, your dear little friends dust is already on your hands. So the question is, who is going to keep them safe from you?"

          And then Chara was in their face, eyes bleeding black, darkly cut grin swallowing the world around them into shadow as they spat, "Is it Papyrus? No, you know how that turned out for him! Is it Sans? Psh, perhaps for awhile, but in the end his fate's the same! Or is it your new friend? Ha! Another human? Funny, that."

          The tears were streaming down their cheeks now, but Frisk found the courage to look the demon in the face and yell back, "It won't happen again! And Teddie's nothing like you! He's nothing like either of us!"

          Chara's smile widened, a dark, malicious humor coloring their tone, "Oh, I wouldn't be too sure about that. He might hide under all that stupid plush and his puns, but a SOUL as broken as his begets some heavy baggage."       

          "What would you know about it?" Frisk demanded, sniffling but determined not to break.

          "More than you'd think," they hissed, leaning in closer, so close Frisk could feel the icy chill sloughing from their skin like mist from a glacier, "And I know . . . that broken SOULS like that always turn out to be the worst friend you could ever ask for. Just give it time."

          There was a glint, and Frisk only just saw the knife hidden in Chara's hand before it was slashing up to puncture their neck.

          "Time is all it takes!"

          And Frisk jolted awake, drenched in sweat and shaking as a scream tore from their throat.

          -

          A scream ripped Teddie from his dreams, gasping awake and shooting up from the bed, nerves buzzing with alarmed fright. The scream had come from Frisk, who was now hunched over on the bed, trembling hands wrapped around their neck and panting so hard Teddie was afraid they'd faint.

          "Frisk-chan?!" he started, reaching over and placing a worried hand on the other's shoulder.

          Frisk jerked away as if his touch had burned them, opposite shoulder slamming into the wall as they looked up, eyes wide and glassy with fright. His hand remained up in the air, frozen as the bear shook, unsure about what to do. What was wrong? What had happened?

          "Frisk . . . ?" he started again, afraid for the one sitting next to them, "What-?"

          His words were swallowed when the door was suddenly flung open, and a terrified Toriel came rushing inside. Her hand was up, and floating in her palm was a small orb of fire that shed a soft, orange light across the floor, the glow chasing the woman's heels as she quickly came to their side. There was a click, and the lamp came on, the sudden brightness making Teddie involuntarily wince as his eyes watered.

          Toriel dismissed the fire moments after, kneeling on the bed, amethyst eyes soft with concern, tone hushed with motherly gentleness as she reached for Frisk, "Hush, my child, you are fine now. It was only a bad dream."

          Frisk stared at her, their eyes beginning to well up, and not just from the light. But recognition was returning to them as well, the hazed, disoriented fear leaving as they took in Toriel's face.

          Sensing the danger passed, Toriel swooped in and pulled Frisk to her chest, running a tender paw over their head and shushing them when they began to cry.

          "I'm sorry . . . I-I'm sorry," Frisk choked out between their tears.

          Toriel hushed them with a soft reassurance, "Shh. You have nothing to apologize for, Frisk. Nothing at all. Do you wish to talk about it?"

          Frisk shook their head hard, and Toriel accepted that, nodding and brushing a hand over their head comfortingly.

          Teddie sat back, wringing his hands together anxiously. His eyes didn't leave Frisk, focusing so hard on the distraught child that they jolted when Toriel placed her other hand on his shoulder. She smiled, and without prompting, she gently drew him into the hug as well.

          He leaned against her, tense shoulders relaxing in her grip. He groped around until he felt the fabric of Frisk's sweater, where he proceeded to wrap his arm around them best he could.

          It was then that Toriel began to hum

          He could feel it rumble in her chest, the sound of it sweet and slow, like gently falling rain. She rocked them back and forth with care, never ceasing her humming even when the melodic tune slowly began to become a song, "Come now, there's nothing to fear. My child, please dry your tears, and don't be afraid, my dear. I'll always be right here."

          She ran her paws over both their heads, voice as soothing as a river that ran slow and languid along it's shores, "The shadows are not real, you see? No demons for you to flee. No more nightmares or scary dreams. While you are here with me."

          Frisk's crying had slowly ceased the longer the tune went on, shakes subsiding until they lay still against her breast, face pressed into the soft folds of her robe, "Though it may be dark tonight, come close and hold me tight. For the sun will always rise. Bathe us in morning light."

          Sleepiness began to overcome Teddie as both the song and the warmth and his interrupted slumber began to take their toll, but even as his eyelids drooped, he did not let go of Frisk. Toriel's voice was growing softer now, more distant, but the gentleness remained, as constant as the stone around them, "Come now, child, don't you cry. Have no fear, you're safe inside. Even when I'm not by your side, keep close my memory tonight."

          He was just aware of her placing both of them back on the bed as the song slowly droned to an end, tucking the sheets back in place. But she did not leave like before. Instead, she stayed watchfully by their side, smoothing down their hair and occasionally humming just like before, a comforting presence that warded the nightmares away just like a dream catcher. Frisk was breathing deep now, and he felt relieved.

          At peace now and knowing Frisk was better with Toriel watching, Teddie dropped back off to sleep.

          -

          Frisk awoke some time later.

          Turning over, they stretched until their back popped before dropping back into the mattress, sighing.

          So . . . Chara was still around. They wanted to think it had just been a bad dream, but it had been far too vivid to dismiss as anything but. They supposed it was a bit naive to think that they wouldn't be there anymore, despite what had happened.

          The new knowledge left them cold. If Chara was still around, then . . . then Frisk was still very much in danger of losing control again. And for all their bluster in the dream of defying the other, they couldn't help but fear that their willpower wouldn't be enough against someone like Chara. Especially if they ran into an opponent they couldn't beat on their own, like Undyne. The mere memory of the warrior's spears plunging through their chest made them shiver.

          And they couldn't tell anyone else . . . no matter what. This was a battle they'd have to fight alone.

          Who is going to keep them safe from you?

          Frisk winced, burying deeper into the quilts. Reluctantly, they had to see the truth in Chara's words. Who was going to keep their friends safe from them? How could they leave the Ruins when the threat of possession loomed over their head, the threat of a demon who had no qualms about hurting innocent monsters.

          If you're really my friend, then don't come back.

          They heard the blankets shift, and someone mumbled blearily, "Frisk-chan . . . ?"

          "Morning . . ." they mumbled back, not quiet looking at the bear.

          More awake now, the other rolled over, rubbing his eyes and asking softly, "Are you okay? You had a really bad dream last night."

          "M'fine . . ." they replied, shrugging.

          Teddie wasn't convinced, "Are you sure?"

          "I'm . . . better," they answered, a little bit more honestly. They turned to him, "Just a bit sleepy."

          "Oh . . . well," Teddie's blue eyes brightened, "Maybe I can go get Ms. Toriel to come back and sing to you! That really helped last night!"

          Sang to them . . . yeah, that was right. Toriel had sung to them. She'd never done that before. But it had been a nice song. And the tune itself had been . . . oddly familiar. If only they could remember where they had heard it before.

          "Do you want me to go get her?" their friend asked.

          Frisk shook their head, "No, it's okay. I'll get up soon."

          "Oh. Okay. Well, I'll stay with you then! I-if, uh . . . that's alright."

          Frisk smiled as the other awkwardly turned onto his back, twiddling his slender fingers together as he waited for Frisk to respond. They didn't leave him hanging, "That's okay. I like the company."

          Teddie smiled, looking infinitely pleased. 'The worst friend'. Chara clearly had no idea what they were talking about.

          Frisk settled back into the sheets, thinking. It was nice here, in Toriel's house. It had always been nice here, and they wished they had realized that sooner. But they knew now . . .

          Maybe . . . maybe they could just stay here, this time. Toriel was like the mom they'd never had, and this place was more like a home than any other had ever been. And if they did stay, then that meant they couldn't be a threat to the rest of their friends, to even humanity. They'd never have to live in fear of them, of Chara. They would all be safe.

          Even if that meant they could never see them again . . . it was better than the thought of watching them to turn dust because they hadn't been strong enough to keep a dark spirit at bay.

          It would be . . . better.

          And life could be good here. It would be good here, with Toriel.

          But a problem remained, dozing just beside them.

          Teddie still thought they wanted to leave. And . . . maybe Teddie himself might want to leave, now that Frisk knew he was human.

          But then . . . maybe Teddie was making the same mistake they'd made when they'd arrived here. The mistake of assuming that they had to go back to the place they belonged, even though they'd run away from it. Teddie's SOUL was so broken . . . something must have happened to prompt him to come to Mt. Ebott.

          So perhaps . . . perhaps Frisk could convince him that he didn't need to go back. Teddie liked Toriel a lot, that was plain to see, so . . . it couldn't be hard to do. And he liked them, just liked Frisk liked him. If Frisk could persuade him to stay here, where it was safe, where they wouldn't have to fear powerful monsters vying for their SOULS . . .

          It . . . could be a nice life down here . . . just the three of them.

          That . . . would be nice.

          The more they thought about it and entertained the idea, the more pleasant it sounded. Slowly, resolve to see this idea through began to build, taking precedence over their fear of Chara. Yes, it could work this way. A home was all they'd wanted, and they could have it here. They could have a family, and none of their former friends would have to worry about Frisk losing control in a place where they didn't have to fear for their lives. They just had to figure out how to convince Teddie . . . but they could do it.

          Frisk could do it. 

Chapter Text

          The morning went by a lot easier than Frisk had anticipated. Toriel made no mention of the night before, merely offered them a kind smile and a gentle 'good morning' before going to make breakfast.

          Teddie was slumped on the table, chin cupped in his hands and still half-asleep, eyes drooping groggily. He was still wearing Toriel's borrowed robes, the thick fabric as warm as any blanket and just as comfortable, which probably wasn't doing him any favors in staying awake.

          Frisk took the seat opposite him, swinging their legs as the watched the other human curiously. They hadn't stopped thinking about how to convince him to stay, but they hadn't come up with any solid plan yet. Hm, maybe the best course of action here was to just wing it?

          "Morning . . ." Teddie drawled, for perhaps the third time that morning.

          Frisk obliged him anyway, "Morning."

          A buttery smell began to emanate from the kitchen, and the blonde human perked up, sniffing the air and already looking more awake at the prospect of food, "Ooh, that smells yummy!~"

          It did smell good, and by the time Toriel at last emerged with three plates balanced artfully along her arms, Frisk was shamelessly salivating.

          The food Toriel set down was none other than two simple slabs of toast, one with a dark red jam with paler flecks of seeds interspersed through it and the other with a heady helping of a gooey snail-garlic paste. Ah, Toriel certainly did love her snails . . .

          Teddie stared at the second piece, leaning down so his eyes were level with the plate and perusing it as one would a strange and otherworldly object, "What's that?"

          "Snail toast!" Toriel beamed, looking so happy and enthused at feeding them it made Frisk's heart hurt, "I know, it doesn't look pretty, but its a very good source of protein, and tasty too! Go on, try a bite! It's not often I get to shell some out!"

          Teddie giggled, livening significantly from his previously dead state, "Good one! Okay, I'll try it! But don't blame me if I go a little slow."

          Toriel was laughing as she took a seat, and Frisk smiled as well as they took a bite of their jam toast. They'd always had a bit of a sweet tooth.

          They almost choked on it laughing when Teddie took a massive bite out of the snail toast and nearly gagged a perfect point-two seconds after the fact, eyes flying open and now very much awake. Frisk could see he was fighting the urge to spit as he forcefully swallowed it, chewing with much less enthusiasm than before. He clearly hadn't been expecting the panorama of rich 'flavors' that came with the food, a thing Frisk certainly hadn't contemplated either the first time they had tried it.

           "So?" Toriel questioned, watching closely, "What do you think?"

          "Keh . . ." Teddie coughed, trying to be discreet for her sake as he smiled a watery smile, "It's . . . strong?"

          Toriel furrowed her brow, "Strong? Hm, perhaps I added a bit too much garlic . . ."

          As Toriel contemplated her new conundrum, Teddie quietly put his toast down and quickly bit into the other one, only for his eyes to brighten. Appetite restored, he swallowed it in a few famished bites before licking his fingers after the fact, humming in contentment, and clearly enjoying it much more than the other slice, "Mm.~"

          Still smiling, Frisk took another bite of their own, and beside them, Toriel's eyes glowed as she watched them eat as she demurely ate her own two pieces in contented silence.

          Frisk finished their own quickly, politely brushing the crumbs off their fingers over the plate, stomach giving a satisfied gurgle. Mm, they had missed this so much.

          "So, how do you find your new accommodations?" Toriel asked as the chewing came to an end, dabbing a napkin to her muzzle.

          "They're great," Frisk replied without missing a beat, smiling earnestly.

          "Yeah!" Teddie agreed almost as quickly, "Everything was so comfy!"

          Toriel chuckled, "I'm glad. Although, we may still have to do something about your wardrobe, Teddie. I'm certain you don't wish to roam around all the time with an old, moth-eaten robe such as that."

          "But it's a grr-reat moth-eaten robe! Besides, I can just use my fur if I want to change into something else! So its no big deal!" The blonde boy said, shrugging dismissively.

          "Well, I suppose there is that," Toriel agreed, "But if you are to be living here, you will need more than just two outfits."

          For the first time that morning, Teddie's grin faltered, confusion filling in the holes as he murmured, "H-huh? W-wait, 'live here'?"

          "Of course," Toriel said as if it were all too obvious, "Beyond the Ruins, the underground is even more dangerous. I know, my home is sparse and undoubtedly bland compared to the surface . . . but it is still a good home. And I will take care of you, you have my word."

          She did not wait for his reply, instead rising to her feet and brushing out her robe, "Now! I better get these cleaned up! I'll return in just a moment!"

          She gathered up the dirty plates and carted them off to the kitchen, and the distant sound of a running faucet was soothing.

          Teddie still looked lost, and just a touch worried, which Frisk couldn't blame him for. He truly had been set on helping Frisk get home after all, even if their home was no longer on the surface. But maybe, now that it had been brought up . . .

          "It's nice here, isn't it?" Frisk asked him, keeping their tone conversational.

          "Huh? O-oh, yeah, it is," but Teddie didn't sound as happy as he had been. Now, he just looked fretful, wringing his hands together and chewing at his bottom lip as he cast worried glances at the kitchen door.

          Undaunted, Frisk continued to press, "I think . . . it's real nice of Mo- . . . Ms. Toriel to let us stay here."

          "It is, but . . ." now Teddie was looking at him, "But don't you want to go home, Frisk-chan?"

          Frisk subconsciously drew their hands together in their lap, well out of the other's sight even as their eyes fell.

          Teddie frowned, tone softening with concern, "Frisk-chan . . . ?"

           "Now, children," Toriel's voice cut him off before he could carry on inquiring, gliding through the threshold and gently wiping her paws together. Teddie clamped his mouth shut as she continued before she could see that anything was amiss, but gave them one last anxious glance, "There a few things I'd like to collect today, and as such I will be gone for a short while. So, I would like to lay down a few simple rules. First, you may go anywhere inside the house save for the room at the end of the hall, as it is currently under reconstruction. You may play outside, but stay well within sight of the house, and do not wander off. The Ruins are dangerous, and I would rather have you explore them in my company until you learn your way around. Downstairs is off limits."

          She was still smiling, but both heard the harder edge in her tone as she spoke about the downstairs space. Frisk knew why, but this time, they were resolved not to break that rule no matter what. Teddie, on the other hand, looked puzzled, "Huh? What's the matter with downstairs?"

          Toriel turned her gaze on him, a line already well-rehearsed, "It is very cold and dark down there, and unsafe for children such as you. Please, stay up here. I promise, I will be back soon. There are plenty of toys for you to play with in the meanwhile, and books for you to read as well."

          She turned, but not before giving them one last, loving look and saying, "Be well, my children."

          Then she left. Frisk heard the front door open, then close, the click of the latch echoing throughout the now silent household.

          Teddie shifted awkwardly where he sat, and Frisk already knew what he was going to ask before he even asked it, "Frisk-chan, are . . . are you okay?"

          He asked it with so much concern, so much care . . . but this wasn't how Frisk wanted their plan to go. Dredging up unpleasant memories wouldn't serve here. So instead, they answered with a small smile and glance, "I am."

          Teddie didn't look as if he believed them, but Frisk wasn't going to give him a chance to worry. Hopping off their seat, they ran around the table and grabbed his hand, pulling him until Teddie was forced to stand while yelling, "Come on! Let's go see what toys there are!"

          Frisk knew it might take a lot before Teddie understood why they didn't want to leave. But until then, they were determined to show him just how nice this place could be. How much of a home it could be. If they could just do that, then . . . then maybe it wouldn't be so hard after all.

          The next several hours were spent entertaining themselves with the things they could find in Toriel’s house. The actual toys shoved in their bed box didn’t interest them at all, but Teddie seemed to like them, creating elaborate back stories for each one and egging Frisk on into helping. They didn’t mind, and in fact, some of the stuff they created was quite interesting, and they wanted to tell Toriel about it. Then they played outside, throwing up scarlet leaves and chasing each other around the ancient tree that stood sentry in the yard until thy both lay winded and tired, but thoroughly satisfied. By the time they were done, Teddie's thoughts were far away from Toriel's words that morning, just as Frisk had hoped.

          Later, after raiding the kitchen for some of the snacks Toriel had left out for them to consume, Frisk set out to drawing out their rendition of ‘Starry Night’, here known as ‘Starry Ceiling’, while Teddie perused Toriel’s small, humble library.

          The other was strangely quite for some time, flipping through the pages of one book as the fire crackled warmly in its hearth.

          Then, “Hey, Frisk-chan?”

          Frisk tensed. They didn’t like the tone of his voice, the lead-up to questions that could be potentially painful, but they answered anyway, “Yes?”

          “. . . why do you think the monsters are down here?” Teddie asked, voice soft, “I mean, they’re so nice! I’m sure humans would like them, so . . .”

          Frisk didn’t want to answer that. So, instead, they shrugged, “I dunno.”

          “Oh. Okay . . .” the other trialed off, turning another page over in thought, “Maybe Ms. Toriel knows . . .”

          At first, Frisk wanted to tell him not to ask her, to spare the gentle woman her feelings. But as the knee-jerk reaction subsided, Frisk grudgingly had to realize that sooner or later, Teddie would find out why the monsters were underground. Perhaps sooner was better.

          They tried not to think about it as they scribbled more color on the paper, instead steering the conversation elsewhere, “So, what do you think of Toriel’s books?”

          “I think they’re bear-iffic!” Teddie responded without hesitation, “I mean, I can’t read very good, but I like them a lot! She even has a book on snail facts!”

          Frisk smiled a little at that, “We could probably find more if we looked around.”

          “Probably . . .” Teddie said before shimmying over to where Frisk sat, leaning over inquisitively, "Whatchya doing?"

          "Drawing," they replied, dotting their yellow crayon over their page to create stars, "I thought maybe Toriel would like a gift."

          "Ooh, that's a great idea!" Teddie agreed, grabbing his own piece and a few crayons, "Hmm, what should I draw?"

          He didn't need an answer, because a moment later he was dropping his fist into his open palm and exclaiming, "Oh, I know! I'll draw a picture of my adorable face! That way she can see it even if I'm not here!"

          With that said, he happily set to work, humming as he did so.

          With any luck, Frisk thought to themselves, quietly returning to their own drawing, You won't be anywhere she can't see it anymore.

          -

          When Toriel opens the door to her home, it was to be greeted by a mash of colored papers and gleeful cries of 'welcome back!'

          "Oh my!" the kind monster said, leaning back from the sudden influx of pages as she carefully adjusted her grip on her grocery bags, "What's all this?"

           "Surprise!" Teddie shouted happily dropped his hands so he could look at her, "We made you some presents!"

          Frisk nodded, eager for her to see their's. Not to brag or anything, but they were quite proud of this piece.

          Toriel's eyes softened, her smile warming considerably as she hooked her backs in the crook of her elbow and took the papers. She carefully looked each one over, giving them all a respectful and diligent once-over before flipping to the next. When she was finished, Frisk thought she might have been blinking away tears, but they were gone so fast it was hard to tell, "These are wonderful drawings, my dears. Thank you."

          Teddie was beaming, and Frisk felt their heart glow with pride. Anything that made Toriel happy was worth it.

          "These are going right on the refrigerator," Toriel declared as she moved into the room proper, closing the door shut behind while keeping her precious cargo carefully tucked in her arm, "And after that, I'll make us all something to eat! I trust you fared well while I was gone?"

          Her voice became a touched more concerned, but Frisk needn't have worried. Teddie allayed her fears with an easy smile and happy listing of their activities, "Frisk-chan and I had looots of fun! We played outside and read some of your books! Oh, and we came up with stories for all the toys you had!"

          Toriel smiled at that, relaxing, "I'm glad. But, after such a busy day, you must have worked up quite the appetite!"

          The other boy folded his arms behind his back, looking like he was trying to be coy as he shifted from side to side and said, "Weeell, I wouldn't say 'no' to a tasty meal.~"

          The woman giggled, "Very well! I'll get started on it right away!"

          And ever true to her word, Toriel did exactly that. After hanging up all the pictures (where Frisk's and Teddie's respective 'masterpieces' had an honorary position at the center), she gently ushered them out of the kitchen and set to work, the comforting sound of fire magic sizzling warmly from the stove and her humming echoing cheerfully in the living room. Frisk wondered what she was making. More snail goods? Her fabled cinnamon-butterscotch pie? They hoped it was the latter. They'd missed that treat sorely in their time away.

          Teddie was humming his own song as he helped set the table, a catchy little ditty Frisk didn't know the words for but found themselves liking all the same. As they carefully placed the last napkin in perfectly meticulous order, not too high or low in relation to the plate, they heard Toriel call out, "Dinner's ready!"

          As far food went, it was a very humble meal. Cooked snails and chopped vegetables in a tasty broth that smelled quite flavorful, if a bit garlic-y. But Frisk was not about to complain, happily digging in and savoring every single bite. Teddie seemed to be enjoying too, much more than the toast of this morning in any case, and Toriel just looked happy to see them so happy.

          "Mm!" Teddie hummed, grinning around his spoon, "'his 's so goo'!"

          "I'm glad to hear it," Toriel replied, hands folded in her lap, bowl empty, "And how about you, Frisk? Is the soup to your liking?"

          Frisk nodded strongly, hair flopping, and Toriel's eyes sparkled with amusement, "Excellent! To be honest, I was worried I'd slop it up, broth I guess I had nothing to fear after all!"

          The two of them giggled, an easy air of peace settling over them as the last remnants of food were eaten and cleared. This feeling right here . . . this was all Frisk had ever wanted.

          "Ah, that was good. I am one satisfied bear," their friend drawled, slouching in his seat.

          Toriel was gently collecting the bowls, stacking them together as she spoke, "I am glad. Perhaps, now that everyone is settled in, we might read together by the fire? Hm, or perhaps that's a bit too boring for young ones such as yourselves . . . ?"

          "I want to read," Frisk said immediately, hopping down from the seat.

          "Me too, me too!" Teddie agreed, jumping up as well. But then, as slightly more sober gleam entered his eyes, and his excited jumping stilled, "Um, actually, I wanted to ask you something, Ms. Toriel."

          Frisk already knew what he was going to ask about even as Toriel responded, "You may ask me anything, Teddie."

          "Um, okay, well . . ." For once lacking his usual enthusiasm, the blonde quietly tucked his hands together and shifted from foot to foot, "I was reading some stuff earlier, about the history of Monsters, and, um . . ."

          At last, it clicked for Toriel what he was asking about, even as the boy finished, "Ms. Toriel, why are all the monsters underground? Why haven't I seen any on the surface?"

          Frisk glanced worryingly in Toriel's direction, easily noticing the way the goat woman's shoulders had tensed. Teddie noticed too, and immediately tried to backpedal, "B-but its okay! You don't have to talk about it if-"

          "No," Toriel said. She was smiling, but her face was sad, "You would have learned about it eventually, and there is no point in hiding it from you. Just . . . let me finish cleaning up, alright little one?"

          "O-okay," Teddie mumbled as Toriel moved away, looking very guilty as he watched her leave.

          Frisk held back their sigh. He needed to know, they knew that . . . they just wished it hadn't had to happen so soon after such a wonderful evening.

          They both sat on the carpet by the fire, though neither spoke until Toriel returned to them. With poise, the gentle monster took a seat in her large, stuffed rocking chair, the old frame's creaking muted under the crackling of the hearth. At first, all she did was look at them, a look filled with a wistful longing Frisk could only vaguely understand until she closed her eyes and sighed, "The story of how monsterkind came to live underground is a long one, my children. And . . . a sad one."

          "Y-you really don't have to tell me if it's sad!" Teddie spoke up, and still with that guilty look, "I mean, if it makes you unhappy . . ."

          Toriel shook her head, "No, you needed to learn the reason why eventually, because those events of the past are the reasons why it is dangerous for you and Frisk to be here now."

          The boy quieted, somber and a little apprehensive as Toriel continued, "Once, long ago, monsters did live on the surface. In those days, both human and monster lived in harmony. Those were peaceful times, and good. But, over time, that . . . changed," Frisk saw her paws tighten, "Humans began to fear us."

          "But why would they fear you? You're so nice!" Teddie rebuffed her.

          "Some monsters, certainly," Toriel agreed softly, "But you see, Teddie, while monsters lack the power a human soul possess', what made humans fear us was our ability to take those souls for own. As rumors spread, human opinion of us continued to sour and darken until violence began to grow between our two races."

          "The situation escalated from there, and eventually, our two sides went to war. It was a grisly thing, and we fought hard, but ultimately our own strength in the face of our human adversaries was too much for us. We lost. And as punishment, the humans took the survivors and sealed them underground," Toriel's eyes had fallen to the fire, gaze blank with memories Frisk didn't even want to imagine, "Such is where we have been ever since."

          Their friend's face was a mixture of different emotions; sadness, shock, surprise . . . until finally, he stuttered, "B-but why would humans do something that cruel?"

          Because humans are cruel.

          Frisk wasn't sure if that thought was quite their own, but even still, it held truth in it. When Frisk had learned this story so long ago, they had been saddened, yes. But at the time, they had not been surprised.

          "Not every human was in agreeance with that plan, but their voices were drowned out by the rest clamoring for our banishment," Toriel said, tone sad and distant, "As for why, perhaps it was to ensure we could never be a threat to them again. But it was a long time ago, and I fear I never learned the true reason."

          Teddie seemed to flounder, groping for what to say, when a sudden light went off and he leaned forward, exclaiming, "W-well, if it really was that long ago, then maybe humans aren't scared of you anymore! If you just showed them you aren't dangerous, I'm sure . . ."

          He trailed off when Toriel sadly shook her head, "I'm afraid it is not that easy. It might be as you say and humans no longer fear, but even if we wished it, we could not leave. The way into the underground was sealed by a magical barrier designed to keep us imprisoned here, and no monster can hope to break it on their own. We are trapped."

          That really took the wind out of Teddie's sails, and the boy's shoulders fell. But even so, he didn't relent quite yet, "So . . . can't we break it somehow? If it was cast, there has to be a way to un-cast it, right?"

          Frisk had to admire his optimism, if nothing else. But knowing the truth behind the barrier, it made their heart hurt for Toriel as the kind monster sighed, "There is . . . but it is no kind thing."

          Her next words came slowly, as if she had to forcefully drag them out, "To break the barrier . . . requires the sacrifice of seven human souls. They . . . have already claimed six . . . and just because you are children does not mean they will not hurt you to claim the seventh. Monsters, I fear, have grown far more desperate these days now that they taste freedom so close at hand . . ." when no one replied after she had fallen silent, Toriel looked up suddenly, inhaling strongly and speaking with more strength than before, even if much of it was for show, "I'm sorry. I do not mean to frighten you with this, my children. But worry not. Here, in the Ruins, you are safe from any who would do you harm. I swear it to you."

          With that, she rose to her feet, looking far more tired than she had several minutes ago, her smile wearing thin on her face, "Perhaps we should retire a little earlier tonight. Tomorrow I mean to show you the Ruins proper, and we'll need a bright and early start. But first, I will make us some tea."

          Frisk watched her vanish into the kitchen before looking back at Teddie, heart heavy and feeling strongly for Toriel. The boy was still sitting on the ground, frowning and face drawn with sadness, but there was something in his eyes that sparked far more brightly than they would have thought after such a conversation.

          If Frisk hadn't known any better, they'd almost say it was determination.

Chapter Text

          The next morning smelled like butter-scotch and cinnamon, warm and enticingly sweet. At such smells, Teddie couldn't have possibly stayed in bed even if he'd wanted to. Frisk-chan was already up, crouching on the floor next to the source of the new and wonderful scent.

          Two plates were laid on the floor, and upon each sat a two large, heady slices of pie with a warm, flaky brown crust and a thick, gooey center.

          "Ooooh," he hummed, sliding out bed to take a closer look, mouth already drooling. It looked so good.~

          Frisk-chan was smiling as they picked up one of the plates, turning it around slowly to take in every inch of the tasty looking pastry. They grabbed the fork propped artfully beside it, and for a moment they looked it over, a curious expression of hesitation on their face as their gaze flicked back and forth between the objects. But then, it dissolved, and with a solemn nod that left Teddie confused, they dug the fork in and took a large, savory bite.

          As soon as Frisk-chan went to town, Teddie couldn't hold back anymore. Dessert for breakfast, hooray!!

          It tasted just as good as it looked, rich and sweet and thick and so beary delicious it was almost a crime when he finished it.

          "Mmm, its so good!" he hummed happily, licking the fork clean.

          Frisk-chan nodded, diligently scraping up the crumbs that were left and eating them with no less enthusiasm, "We should say thank you."

          Teddie gave his whole-hearted agreement, but even as he did, a more somber note entered his heart. Ms. Toriel had looked so sad last night, and he still felt bad for asking his questions even in ignorance. And though she'd said it was fine, her whole story about why the monsters were underground was so terrible it made it hard to sleep last night.

          "Hey, Frisk-chan . . ." he started, unsure if he should even bring it up. Frisk-chan was still only a child, after all, and they shouldn't have to be burdened with his worries. But they were already looking, brown eyes full of curiosity and patience that belied their age. Sometimes, Frisk's unflappable nature reminded him of Sensei . . .

          "I just . . ." still, he faltered, setting the plate down slowly as he thought, "I wonder if Ms. Toriel's okay, is all."

          Frisk's eye glowed with understanding, "I think she'll be okay. We'll be there to make sure she is."

          When Teddie didn't answer right away, Frisk frowned, speaking a little more forcefully, "We'll be there, right?"

          Guilt flashed through him. He wanted to be there, he really did . . . but . . . but he had to get home too. And he had to get Frisk-chan home. How could he do that if he stayed here? And what if . . . what if another reset happened? They had been rather merciful lately, but that didn't mean it would last. He had to use this break to his advantage, to get them home. And maybe . . . maybe . . .

          But Frisk was looking at him so earnestly now that he couldn't find it in himself to tell them so. Instead, Teddie just smiled (perhaps a bit too wanly for his tastes) and nodded, "Y-yeah, we'll be there!"

          That seemed to satisfy their friend, as their shoulders relaxed and they went on to gather the plates from the floor. All the while, Teddie kept silent, internally restless and worried and wondering about the future.

          -

          Time went by.

          Teddie couldn't say for sure how long that time was. There was no day and night down here to tell him what was what, and there weren't any clocks either. The only timeframe he had was sleeping and waking, and that couldn't be trusted in full because he liked to nap a lot.

          Not that it had been . . . a bad time, per say. As they grew more accustomed to their new local, Toriel would often take the time to show them the Ruins. From her favorite bug hunting spots to special little shortcuts in places most wouldn't think to look for them, she showed them everything she thought both special and important. And when they were home, she let them help cook, she read them stories, and sometimes, she'd sing them lullabies. Most everything was given to them, and they could go where they pleased in her house save the downstairs area, which remained a mystery. Even despite the, uh, lessons she'd set up for them, everything about his current situation was still all very . . . wonderful, to be honest. She was wonderful.

           That was why knowing he'd have to one day leave her hurt so much. Even though his reasons were good, and in braving the underground he might find a way to help her, it didn't make it any easier when she smiled at him and patted him affectionately on the head after doing something that pleased her.

          It didn't help that Frisk-chan suddenly seemed very disinclined to go anywhere, least of all back to the surface. Teddie couldn't help but ponder over why, yet every time he tried to ask or open up the topic of moving on, they would either shrug it off or find an excuse to leave. It was almost like . . . Frisk didn't want to leave the home Toriel had offered then. And it troubled him immensely.

          And as more and more time passed, the niggling guilt would continue to grow. Guilt whenever he thought of Inaba, or his friends, or how everyone must be so worried by now and yet he was still in Toriel's house, whittling away the hours to nothing. Yosuke would be so mad at him if he found out he was totally fine and had worried them for nothing. If only it was possible to send a letter, or a text . . .

          It would only get worse whenever he glanced at the book that told the monster's history, which in turn reminded him of the story that led to their imprisonment. Such a terrible fate, and so undeserving too. The humans he knew would never do something so cruel, except maybe one. But even then, the thought of so many clamoring for this punishment left him feeling uneasy. Surely, the world would have changed by now, right?

          It reached a crest one night in a simple, wistful observation, as Toriel sat in her chair sewing and Teddie and Frisk sat on the floor with a pair of books for reading.

          "I cannot believe it has already been a week since you two arrived here," Toriel commented, threading her needle through the sky blue fabric she was holding, "Time certainly flies, doesn't it my children?"

          Teddie sat bolt upright, moving so fast the pages of his book fluttered up with him, "It's been a week?!"

          Both Frisk-chan and Toriel stared at him, taken by surprise at his sudden outburst. The hand clutching her needle lowered, brow furrowing together as Toriel spoke, "Yes, it has. I know, it can be a little hard to tell time down here, and . . . oh, that gives me an idea! Tomorrow, I can teach how to read the time!"

          She seemed genuinely pleased by this possibility of teaching them something new, but all he could do was focus on the echo of her words, worry and guilt seizing up his stomach. Had it really been an entire week already? It hadn't felt that long.

          Frisk-chan was looking at him, and Teddie didn't miss the worried frown on their face. Oh, gosh, their parents must be so worried about them! His friends must be so worried about him! How could he have let this happen?! And Toriel-

          She was still smiling, eyes glimmering softly in the light of her gentle flames. But not that long ago, he'd seen a sadness there that ran so deep he felt he could drown in it. And there would be no fixing that if he stayed here.

          He'd become complacent, he realized. Too complacent. And at this realization came a firm, if sad, decision; he had to leave tomorrow. He had to leave, and find a way back to the surface and break this barrier that kept Toriel and all the rest from the joys of the sun. No matter what, even if the resets came again . . . he could not give up.

          He could never give up.

          "Um, Ms. Toriel . . ." he started, politely closing the book he had been reading, "I'm, uh, feeling kinda sleepy. Can I go to bed?"

          "So early? Are you feeling alright, Teddie?" she asked, rising from her large, comfortable chair to crouch beside him. She pressed a furry paw to his forehead, unerringly gentle in her ministrations even with their size.

          He nodded, and hoped she didn't notice how he pulled away from her hand, "Mhm! I'm okay, really! Me and Frisk-chan played tag today, so you could say I'm feeling a little run down!"

          That made Toriel giggle, her worries vanishing in an instant, "That is true. At least this means I won't have to chase you off to bed!"

          She tickled him in the side, enough that he couldn't help but laugh in return.

          "Alright, you may go. Just remember to wash your face and brush your teeth before you do," Toriel instructed gently, rising to her feet, "And what about you, Frisk? Would you like to retire early as well?"

          Frisk-chan looked as if they were contemplating it, gaze flicking to Teddie for just a second before going back to Toriel, "I . . . think so. Thank you, Toriel."

          It was a simple affair, getting ready for bed. But as the lamp was turned off and quiet descended around him with the darkness, he found he couldn't relax. Tossing and turning, mind going over what was to come and what had been, Teddie couldn't help but wish (and not for the first time) for the days where he hadn't had to worry so much at all.

          The morning came swiftly, almost too swiftly, like it wanted him gone. But even if he hadn't really slept all that well, Teddie was so keyed up with anticipation he couldn't even feel his tiredness.

          All night he'd pondered over what to do. The most obvious resolution to this was to just ask Toriel where the exit was, but . . . he didn't know if he could bring himself to do that. He didn't think he could face the hurt that would undeniably be there, because Toriel would be hurt. All lonely people were when the people they cared about told them they didn't want to stay with them anymore.

          Besides, he sort of had an inkling already as to where it might be, down somewhere dark where Toriel never wanted them to explore. The old, worn stairs in the entrance hall that seemed to lead nowhere, the only place they weren't allowed to go. It got him thinking . . . that maybe he could just sneak out. He'd leave a note of course, as well as an apology, but . . . he thought maybe it would be better for both of them until he could figure out how to fix this problem. And it didn't have to be forever, he'd constantly tell himself. They could see each other again. They would.

          That small comfort didn't make what he had to do any easier, though . . .

          Frisk-chan was already up and getting dressed, smiling and talking excitedly about Toriel's lesson plan for the day as they pulled on their socks. Teddie hadn't gotten out of bed yet, sitting on the covers and watching, the robe Toriel had lent him as warm as any blanket. He had to tell Frisk-chan too. He had to get them home, he'd promised. But Frisk's reluctance to even broach the subject in the past was off-putting, and he was . . . a little worried as to how they'd take his renewed desire to leave.

          "-I wonder if we'll go sightseeing afterwards! There so much stuff here, even if its all broken! What do you think, Teddie?" Frisk asked as they threw their arms across the bed, looking up at him with a smile on their face.

          It faded when they saw the contrite look on Teddie's face, head tilting just slightly, "What's wrong?"

          Well, now or never, he guessed.

          "Um, Frisk-chan . . ." he started, trying to speak as gently as possible, "I know, it's been a lot of fun down here with Ms. Toriel, but . . . I think it's time we move on. Don't you?"

          Frisk's gaze fell to the quilts, mouth hardening, " . . . it's about what Ms. Toriel said last night, isn't it?"

          And sometime's, they were so perceptive it threw him off guard. But he had to press, or else his resolve might crumble, "Kinda. I mean, it's been a week, Frisk-chan. Everyone must be worried about us, and I promised I'd get you out."

          "You don't have to keep that promise," Frisk-chan said quietly, "I don't want to go."

          "You . . . don't want to go?" That really caught him off guard, "But why? Don't you want to go home? To you're family?"

          "They weren't my family," Frisk response was curt, hard, and bitter enough it made Teddie clamp his mouth shut in shock.

          Frisk realized what they said not a moment later, and a long, weary sigh left them as they turned to face him again. Their eyes were sad, but their was a firmer, more resolved glimmer behind it that worried him, "Teddie, I know you want to help me. But the thing is . . . I like it down here. I like being with Ms. Toriel. And . . . and I don't want to go back."

          Teddie stared, "But-"

          "And you don't have to go back either!"

           "What?"

          Frisk-chan reached over and grabbed his hand, looking almost desperate as they continued, "I used to think I wanted to go back, it's true. But, Teddie, the real truth is, my family was awful. They didn't love me, or even really want me around. But Toriel does! And I know she wants you too! You don't have to go back!" their grip tightened, smile strained, but hopeful too, "We could be like a family down here. A real one!"

          Teddie stared, eyes wide. Was this . . . was this how Frisk truly felt?

          "I . . ." he didn't know how to start, not with the way Frisk was looking at him with such hopeful eyes, "I . . ."

          "I know you think you want to go back to the surface," Frisk-chan pressed him hard, unrelenting, "But it might be that you actually don't. You like Toriel, and you like being here, otherwise you wouldn't have stayed so long!"

          "But my friends-"

          "Are you sure they were really your friends?"

          That stung, and Teddie felt his hackles rise defensively, "Of course they're my friends! They gave me so much, and taught me so much, and I love them just like they love me!"

          "I once thought my family liked me too," Frisk said, voice dropping, "But I was wrong. Teddie, I think you really, really, really believe they love you, but . . . humans are really good at lying. And . . . and something broke your SOUL."

          "It wasn't them, it- . . . it was-!"

          "If you want me to believe you, then tell me they never hurt you! Tell me they never lied to you, or betrayed you!" their face was set into a rigid mask of determination, hands clasping Teddie's so tightly their fingertips left white divots in his skin, the true breadth of their desperation only betrayed by the tears pricking the corners of their eyes, "Tell me!"

          Frisk's gaze was so intense it was almost too much to look at, but he held it all the same. He was sorry that Frisk felt their family was so untrue, but it would be easy enough to tell them they were wrong, that his friends weren't like that at all.

          Teddie opened his mouth, and nothing came out.

          What . . . ?

          He tried again, and was met with the same voiceless silence, mouth gaping uselessly like a fish.

          I'm sorry, a distant memory whispered from a lonely food court bench, the sunset casting long, grim shadows on the figure who spoke so solemnly, so ashamedly.

          He hadn't even realized his hands had started shaking until Frisk's tight grip loosened, cradling them consoling between their own as their face dropped. They'd found the answer in his too-long silence, it seemed, and their voice was filled was a deep, regretful sadness, "I'm sorry they didn't love you as much as you thought they did."

          No, no, they were wrong! Maybe Sensei kept things from him, but it was for a reason, it had to be! And his other friends didn't know about that, about any of this!

          Or do they?

          His heart jumped, breath hitching in his throat.  Stray thought or cruel voice, he didn't know, but the implication it left was so terrifying it left him feeling nauseous. He shook his head hard now, a wild desperation gripping him, "No, that's not right! They do care, they do, it-it wasn't all of them, it couldn't be all of them . . . !"

          "Maybe . . . maybe it wasn't," Frisk conceded that, crawling onto the bed to sit beside him. But judging by the sad look on their face, Teddie could tell that they believed their point was already made, "But one of them did. And it hurt you, even if you don't want to believe it. But it doesn't have to hurt anymore. It never does again."

          They . . . really wanted him to stay. But staying meant abandoning everything he had made for himself. Staying was a choice that, once made, would be made forever. And even with all his new doubts, it wasn't a choice he wanted to make.

          Suddenly, the small room he was in, once so homey and comforting, felt claustrophobic and stifling. The air was heavy, hard to breathe, and everything looked and felt wrong.

          "I . . . have to go somewhere."

          It was all he said as he stood up, but Frisk didn't try to stop him. Indeed, they seemed like they understood he needed space, and so made not a sound of protest. Feeling like a ghost inside his own skin, he walked out the door and didn't look back.

          -

          It was just Sensei . . . he told himself as he walked, over and over and over again, and he had a reason, he had to have. No one else knew, no one else knew . . .

          These were the only thoughts that plagued him. His friends weren't liars. They were the best thing to ever happen to him. Frisk just didn't know his friends, that was all, that was the only reason they said such terrible things about them!

          Are you sure you know them as well?

          Teddie plugged his ears and kept walking. He wanted to ignore the voice, he wanted to ignore it so badly. But now that the seeds of doubt had been planted, it had found a new roost to perch upon and croon it's cruel and taunting jibes.

          Frisk's offer rang about in his head too, an unpleasant static swirling with his already chaotic thoughts. Toriel was wonderful, it was true, but . . . but how could he stay? He was supposed to find his way back home. That was what he was supposed to do. He . . . he believed Frisk-chan meant well with their offer, and they looked so sad and sorry for the things they said, but . . . but that didn't really make their words any better. That didn't make the choice they'd given him any kinder. Even still, he found he couldn't be angry. He was just hurt, and confused, and wishing that they'd never had this conversation at all.

          It doesn't have to hurt anymore.

          He walked for minutes or hours, he couldn't be sure, but eventually his feet took him the very start of this new mess he'd found himself in; the soft, lemon-yellow flower patch blooming beneath a single shaft of sunlight.

          The sweet smell was soothing, a welcome break from the cold damp of the Ruins, and he sighed and tottered over to them. Once there, he sank down onto the ground, the petals tickling his hands as the wavered and rustled against him.

          Pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them, Teddie craned his neck up to stare at the far-away patch of light above him, the only doorway he had to the outside world. If he closed his eyes, he thought he could hear the distant twittering of birds and smell the fresh air born by gentle breezes of a sun-kissed surface.

          If he stayed down here, he'd lose all of that and more.

          But . . . ugh, he doesn't know anymore! Once, if he was lost, there would have been so many faces to turn to, so many friends he could call upon for help. Now, he just doesn't know.

          It wouldn't be so bad if the doubts were like the ones he'd had fighting the resets. The only reason he hadn't turned to anyone for help then was because eventually, they'd forget everything he'd said. Or so he'd thought.

          Now, his doubts were being burgeoned by something worse . . . the fear that maybe no one had been as truthful with him as he had believed. That maybe . . . Sensei wasn't the only one who'd lied.

          He sucked in a breath and dropped his head into his knees, the sour-sweet scent of the flowers prickling against his nose, "No, stop thinking like that, you dummy! These are your friends! They helped you, they let you into their world! They wouldn't betray you . . . they wouldn't . . ."

          He trailed off, the cave catching his words and whispering them down the tunnel until they, too, faded away. Then there was only silence, and the lingering doubt.

          "Hi there!"

          Teddie started, eyes flying open and sitting bolt upright as adrenaline spiked. He wildly looked left and right, but he saw no one, the flowers his only company in the large, dismal cavern. Who-?

          "Over here, silly!"

          It came from in front of him. In front and . . . down?

          Movement drew his eyes, and he found it's source not a moment later.

          It was a flower. But it wasn't like the flowers around him, most definitely not, because this one was smiling at him. Smiling, and waving a dark green petal his way as it spoke in a voice as high as a lark, bright yellow petals fanning open like a sunburst.

          "Howdy! I'm Flowey! Flowey the Flower! And I gotta say, its quite a pleasure seeing a new face like yours down here!"

Chapter Text

          There's a lot of things Teddie's come to learn about the underground. Still, somehow, against all odds, a talking flower managed to take him by surprise.

          "Careful there, or else you might get a bug stuck in your mouth," The flower, Flowey, chided.

          Teddie blinked, teeth clacking as he snapped his jaw closed.

          Flowey spoke up again, rocking idly from side to side on it's (his?) stem, "Well, gee, don't keep me in suspense here buddy! I told you my name, its only fair you tell me yours!"

          "Oh!" Right, he was being a little bit rude, wasn't he? Scratching the back of his head, he sheepishly replied, "Sorry, you just startled me a bit! But my name's Teddie! It's nice to meet you!"

          By now, shock was giving way to curious fascination, and he leaned a little closer to where the flower sat. He's met a number of other monsters down here by now, from bouncy Froggits to shy Whimsums, but Flowey was a completely new face. And just like Toriel, he was entirely unique, "Are you a monster too, Flowey? I've never seen you in the Ruins before."

          "Ah well, that's just cause I get around a lot!" The flower stuck out what might pass for a tongue, winking, "For someone as small as little old me, and for a place as big as this, its not so surprising we haven't seen each other yet!"

          That made sense, he thought, nodding.

          "Well, its nice to meet you now, Flowey!" Teddie replied, smiling. It was always nice to make a new friend! "What are you doing all the way out here, though? There's lots of fun stuff back in the Ruins."

          "Well, uh, about that . . ." Flowey's expression shifted, curiously contrite as he tapped his leaves together, continuing slowly, carefully, "You see, I was just sorta wandering around doing my own thing, when I couldn't help but notice you sitting here. I thought, 'wowy, a human', and got a little closer to take a look. It's not often we get humans down here, after all. But you looked sad, and as I got closer, well . . . I sorta heard what you were saying."

          Oh . . .

          Teddie's mood plummeted quickly at that, and it must have showed on his face, because Flowey began speaking again, "Hey friend, I know we've only just met and all, but if you need an ear or two to listen to your problems, I don't mind!"

          That was a nice gesture, he thought.

          "Um, well . . ." Teddie glanced at the yellow flowers around him, and he noticed that the light from the hole had shifted, drenching half of them in darkness. The sun must be setting, "It's . . . kinda hard to explain . . ."

          "Ah, no need to worry! Let me see if I can guess, just based on what I heard . . . you trusted a few people, and those people ended up doing something to break that trust. Pretty badly too, if you're feeling this torn up about it!"

          Teddie flinched, the words hitting a little too close to that sore spot in his heart.

          Flowey's eyes softened with sympathy, "Listen, buddy, it happens. Sometimes, the friends we believe in don't always turn out to be all that we thought they were. But that's okay! Cause then, that means we can find better friends, right?"

          "But I don't want 'better' friends! I want my friends!" the words came out on their own, but even as he said them, the doubt lingered like a bad aftertaste.

          Flowey frowned, "Well, you could go back to them, I suppose, but I don't know why you'd want to. They hurt you, right?"

          "W-well, um . . ." Teddie's brain stuttered on how to reply. On one hand, yes, it had definitely hurt, but on the other . . . "I-I don't really know everything that was going on at the time. I should listen to their side of the story first . . ."

          "That just sounds like an open invitation to get hurt again, if you ask me," Flowey observed, crossing his leaves together in away vaguely reminiscent of a human crossing their arms. When Teddie didn't reply, he sighed and suddenly slipped underground. He popped back up seconds later, this time just outside the patch of yellow flowers Teddie was sitting in, "Listen, I get that you want to trust your friends. And I get wanting to give them a second chance. You're only human, right? But you gotta take care of number one, too! Your feelings matter, don't they?"

          He sounded so earnest, and Teddie couldn't help but feel touched that the flower monster was so concerned about him, "Y-yeah, I guess they do. But if I really want to be the best bear I can be, shouldn't I try to understand what my friends were doing?"

          Flowey tilted his head to one side, thinking, "Hmm . . ."

          Teddie leaned closer, waiting. Privately, he was sort of surprised at just how much he hoped Flowey had an answer for him. He was so lost on what to do, on how to feel, that any help steering him in the right direction would have been a blessing. That any voice telling him he didn't have to doubt his friends so much would have been a relief.

          At last, the flower replied, "Well, I guess if you don't know their side of the story. But honestly, if they were cruel enough to hurt someone like you, they don't sound like the sort who deserve a second chance."

          They aren't cruel, he wanted to say, You don't know them, that's all. That's all . . .

          "Besides, it's not like it matters at this rate. You're stuck down here," at the look Teddie gave him, Flowey waved his leaves and continued, "Hey, don't look so down! Think of it like a fresh start! You can find a new home, settle down, even make some new friends! Gee, I would have thought you'd have made friends with that goat lady who lives down here by now, anyway. She takes in all the humans who fall down."

          "You mean Ms. Toriel? Of course she's my friend, she's wonderful!" it took him a moment to realize what else the flower had said, "Wait, she took in other humans too?"

          "Mhm! Come on, you didn't think you were the first human to fall down here, did you? Lots of others have come and gone," Flowey informed him, smiling.

          Teddie tilted his head, "If that's true, how come I haven't seen any of them? Grr, you're not lying, right?"

          Flowey threw up his leaves defensively, "Hey, slow down there, pal! You'll find I'm a lot more honest than those friends of yours, and I'm telling you that there were definitely other humans before you. They just all left!"

          Ignoring the jab at his friends, he asked, "But why'd they leave?"

          Flowey shrugged, "Eh, who knows. Most likely to get out of the Underground, back to the surface."

          "Really . . ." curiosity nibbled at him, "I wonder why Ms. Toriel never talks about them . . ."

          "She probably misses them. Its not like she can just leave and say hello, not with that pesky barrier in the way," Flowey said.

          "Oh . . ."

          Silence lapsed between them, until the flower's expression shifted yet again, this time a little more planning, "Hey . . . you really like that lady, don't ya? And if you could, you'd want to help her?"

          "Hm? Of course I do, why would you ask that?" Teddie questioned, genuinely puzzled at where this was going.

          "Well . . . hm, maybe its better I don't say anything . . . but then, you were really set on seeing those friends again . . ."

          Teddie frowned, "Ooh, stop teasing and tell me! That's beary rude, you know!"

          Flowey looked at him thoughtfully, before slowly leaning in closer and gesturing for him to do the same. When he did, the flower spoke, voice hushed, "Look, I take it you know about the barrier, right? How it's keeping everyone stuck down here against their will?"

          Teddie nodded, and Flowey continued, "Well, I've been trying to find a way to break it. Not like it's been working, me being me, after all. But anyway, I have figured a few things out, and I was thinking . . . since you're a human, you actually stand a better chance of getting to it than I do. And maybe, if we play our cards right . . . you could break it!"

          Before he could speak, Flowey interjected, "Just think about it for a sec! With the barrier broken, your friend and everyone else trapped down here get to be free. And, bonus, you could find those surface friends of yours and figure out their side of the story! And even if the answer's not that great, you can just go back to your goat friend and stay with her! Everyone gets a happy ending!"

          Everyone gets a happy ending. Isn't that all he really wanted, at the end of the day? He couldn't . . . stay down here forever, he knew that. But . . .

          "Is it really that easy? Just . . . break it?"

          Flowey sighed, a touch of aggravation in his voice, "Well, of course its not going to be easy, you'll have to get through the Underground still. But isn't trying better than doing nothing at all? And besides that, I promise, I'll help you as often as I can!"

          That was nice sentiment. And yet . . . Teddie found himself hesitating, "That . . . does sound great. And I really appreciate what you said, but . . ."

          "But . . ." Flowey urged.

          "I promised I'd look out for someone. Another human . . . like me. But they don't want to leave Ms. Toriel, and I . . . I don't know if I could just leave them on their own."

          "Another human, you say? Golly, that's a surprise! But I don't see what the problem is," at Teddie's questioning look, he continued, "They'll be here with the goat, won't they? And trust me, she's a lot stronger than she looks. I'm sure they'll be fine."

          He . . . guessed that was true enough. Ms. Toriel was pretty strong, and if Frisk-chan ever got hurt, she could heal them.

          "Listen, do you want to help everyone down here and get back to your friends, or not?" Flowey questioned, "The longer you wait, the longer everyone remains trapped."

          Teddie looked away, twining his fingers together and thinking. As painful as it might be, he did want to get back to his friends . . . and no matter what, he could not forget the sad, longing look in Toriel's eyes when she spoke of the surface. And if . . . if Frisk-chan really didn't want leave . . . then who was he to tell them to?

          "I-"

          "Teddie?! Teddie, where are you?"

          He whirled around, startled. Was that . . . Ms. Toriel?

          Behind him, he heard Flowey hiss, "Look, think about what I said! Think about it hard! And if your answer is yes, meet me here again tomorrow!"

          He heard a soft shft of dirt and a rustle of flowers, and without having to turn his head, he knew Flowey was gone.

          From the cave entrance, Teddie watched as a frantic Toriel burst from the shadows, white fur glowing red in the fading light. When she saw him, relief flooded her eyes, nearly dropping the basket she was holding as she ran to him.

          "There you are, little one! Oh, I was so worried!" she shouted as she dropped to her knees beside him, pulling him into a tight hug.

          His face fell, guilt clawing at him for making her worry, "I'm sorry. I meant to come back sooner, really."

          "Hush now, no need to apologize," she replied, releasing him before checking him over for injuries. When she was satisfied, she sat back and sighed, "But may I ask why you ran away? Frisk wouldn't tell me what happened. Did you . . . fight?"

          "I . . . n-no, not really," he replied. He didn't think he could tell her what had transpired, not when he knew it would hurt her feelings, "I just . . . wanted to see the sunlight, is all!" 

          It seemed a passable enough excuse, one which she thankfully seemed to buy.

          "The sunlight. I see . . ." Toriel momentarily glanced at the hole far above, where the waning light was strongest, "I should have known you might have come here. This is the only doorway I know of that still links us to the outside world."

          There it was again, that nostalgic glimmer. Rubbing his hands together, Teddie quietly asked, "Do you . . . miss going outside?"

          "Hm?" she looked down to him, face still as she mulled over his question. Then, with a soft sigh, she replied, "I do. But my life, and my home, are down here now. I have grown to accept that. It may have taken time, true, but I am happy now."

          She reached over and pressed a gentle paw on top of his head, smiling wistfully, "But it is not me who I am concerned for. As much as I might say otherwise, the truth is, you and Frisk have only been here a short time. You must be missing home."

          Home. For a long time, home for him had been a lonely, barren world filled with fog and shadows. For a shorter, but more sweet time, it had been Inaba and all who dwelled within it. Now, both had changed. And . . . not all of them necessarily for the better.

          "Hey, Ms. Toriel? Can I ask you a question?" Teddie whispered.

          "Of course you may."

          Taking a quick breath, he dove in, "If . . . I mean, say you had a friend. A really good, great friend who was the best person in the whole wide world to you. But then, one day . . . you found out they were lying to you, and had been lying to you for a really long time. And . . . it was a bad lie that . . . really hurt your feelings. What would you do?"

          Something like pain flashed through Toriel's eyes, and before he knew it, he was being crushed into another powerful hug, "Oh, my child, is that what drove you here? I am so sorry, truly."

          He didn't reply to her, not quite trusting his voice then. Instead, he only pressed his face into her robe.

          Toriel didn't release her hold, and her voice was quavering, shaky with emotion, "Teddie, I . . . there is little I can say to your question, and I doubt that any of it will be what you want to hear. But sometimes . . . sometimes, a friend who seems wonderful in the beginning is not always all they show. Sometimes, they might have never been a friend at all."

          "But what if they were? If they were . . . c-could you give them a second chance?" Teddie peered up at her, hope verging on desperate and not unaware that his sight was going blurry with tears, "Could you?"

          Toriel's face was sad, but understanding, smoothing back his hair before resting her chin on top of his head, "Maybe it' as you say. Maybe what they showed wasn't fake . . . but people change. Humans and monsters alike, they both change. And sometimes not always for the better. I don't know what this lie was, just as I do not know the person who told it . . . but the wound it left was real. And even if they were sorry, that cannot be forgotten."

          The light grew dimmer, the flowers losing their sun-kissed shine as the last rays slipped out of range. Toriel noticed, grip slackening enough for him to squirm away. Without thinking about it, the gentle monster reached over and dabbed away his tears, even though her eyes shone with the same.

          Teddie felt bad when he saw them. He hadn't meant to drag Toriel into his personal problems, not even unintentionally.

          "Sorry . . ." he said, apologetic. With a bit more effort, he tried to crack a smile, "I got . . . a bit overbearing."

          Toriel's lips twitched, "Never. And Teddie . . ." she gently cupped her paws around his face, leaning down so she could look him in the eye, "Regardless of what happened, and where you came from, this place is always open to you. And though I might not be able to take the place of your parents, I hope you might one day see me as someone you can trust. Always know that, no matter what."

          Teddie's bottom lip wavered, and it was all he could do not to burst into tears again. Despite any of his misgivings, he thinks it's then he fully understands why Frisk-chan wants to stay with her so badly. And maybe, privately . . . he thinks he wishes he could stay too.

          A chill wind cut through the cavern then, the shadows growing cold as the gust nicked at his robe. Unintentionally, he shivered.

          Toriel noticed, "Oh my, it is a bit cold down here, isn't it? It's a good thing I brought this."

          She reached over, back to the small, woven basket she'd been carrying with her when she'd arrived. Gently pulling away the thin quilt being used as protection, she withdrew something small and white, which she quickly handed over to .

          It felt soft in his hands, soft and incredibly warm. As Toriel spoke, he quickly went to unfold it, "This was meant to be a surprise for later. You might love that costume of yours, but you're going to need more than two pairs of clothes."

          Two long sleeves fell away as he unrolled it and held it up, displaying it for all the world to see; a soft, thick sweater as white as snow, with a band of royal blue sewn around the chest. It reminded him of the one Frisk-chan liked to wear.

          "Its been while since I last got to sew anything for someone so small," Toriel was smiling now, "Do you like it?"

          Teddie held it close to his chest, and he felt his heart brim with happiness, so much so that he, for just a moment, can forget all of his troubles, "Like it? I love it! Such skill and passion went into this masterpiece, I can feel it! And that makes it perfect!"

          Without hesitation, Teddie pulled it on over his head, over robe and all, giddy as the fuzz tickled his nose. Standing up, he spun around so Toriel could see it all, "So? So? How does it look?"

          Toriel rose as well, basket in one arm, and though it was dark now, he could see her eyes sparkling, "It looks wonderful, Teddie."

          He fiddled with the ends of the sleeves, a flush rising through him. And along with it, came a curious thought he'd never had before. One he'd never truly considered, but now . . . now sounded about the right time to voice it, "Hey, Ms. Toriel . . ."

          "Hm?"

          He looked up, smiling around the muff of the collar which hadn't quite made it past his chin, and said, "You know, I never had parents. But, when I used to think about what moms were like, I always thought she'd be someone like you!"

          A sheen appears in Toriel's eyes, shining brightly in fading gloom of dusk. But there's a smile on her face as she turns to him, her tone filled with delight, "You'd think of someone like me? I'm flattered! And, if it made you happy . . . I would not be adverse to being called so."

          That caught him off guard, "W-wha . . . really? I could call you mom?"

          "If you wish, my child," Toriel replied. She held out her hand to him.

          A mom . . .

          Living with the Hanamura's, Teddie had gotten to understand how a family was supposed to work. A dad, a mom, and their children. And that family had opened their doors to him. They'd welcomed him into their home, given him a place at their table, given him a bed to sleep in. But even though Yosuke's parents had been nice and accommodating, there'd always been . . . something they'd had with his friend that they didn't have with him. Little looks or a certain tone of voice, small things Teddie doubted most people noticed unless they lacked what he lacked. But he did notice, and even though he held it against no one, there was always a small sting of disappointment over it.

          But Toriel was different. She gave him those small looks. She spoke with that certain tone of voice. And now here she was, telling him it . . . was alright.

          For one moment, he imagined himself living down here. Really, truly imagined. He'd call Toriel mom every day, and he and Frisk would learn together, play games together, grow up together. They'd have parties, and they'd have fights. There'd be heartache, but there'd also be joy. Just the three of them, and a small, stony house that could be filled with lots of happy memories, that no one else could take.

          Had it not been for Flowey's offer, this might have been the moment he caved.

          With the barrier broken, your friend and everyone else trapped down here get to be free. And, bonus, you could find those surface friends of yours and figure out their side of the story! And even if the answer's not that great, you can just go back to your goat friend and stay with her! Everyone gets a happy ending!

          Teddie looked at Toriel. He looked at her and remembered her sad story, the longing in her face. He only had to look up to where the last rays of light slipped away to remember the surface, and the friends that would be left behind if he stayed. He remembered, then and there . . . that he still had so much to do.

          And if he really loved Toriel, and Frisk, and everyone as much as he claimed too . . . he realized that he couldn't take hold of her hand the way he wanted. Not yet.

          So he just smiled and skipped ahead instead, bypassing it entirely, "Come on, let's go back! Frisk-chan's probably really worried about us!"

          "O-oh," Toriel started, slowly withdrawing her hand, "Of course."

          She followed, hand holding instead to the basket she carried, and he tried not to think about the disappointment on her face. Behind her, he could just make out the flower patch, their yellow petals muted in the dark. They all rustled softly in the drafts from the hole above, but to him, it all looked like they were waving goodbye. It was impossible to tell if any of them were smiling.

          -

          Sunlight fell in a warm pool across the floor, the flowers drinking in the rays greedily. Birds twittered distantly, their songs echoing down the cavernous drop until they faded away like ripples on a pond. The air smelled like lemons, both sour and sweet, but no bees frolicked amidst there petals. They knew better than to turn their wings down here.

          It was then the flowers shifted as feet gently nudged them aside, and Flowey looked up from where'd he been idly counting the blades of grass.

          He grinned, "So, you showed up after all, huh? Great! Let's get started then, shall we?" 

Chapter Text

         'He's going to leave.'

          Frisk nearly snipped their own finger off with the scissors as their hand skidded through the paper they were holding, tearing instead of cutting.

          "Oh, Frisk, are you alright?" Toriel asked from where she sat, having heard the sudden rip.

          Frisk stared at her, a deer caught in headlights as their mind ran circles over what to do because no, no, they shouldn't be back, they couldn't be here-!

          'Oh, don't act like that. I never left, and you knew that.'

          Toriel, ever the concerned mother, dropped her sewing equipment and came to their side, pressing a furry paw to their head and chiding, "Dear one, what's the matter? You've suddenly gone so pale . . ."

          Before Frisk could come up with an adequate reply to allay her fears, another shout distracted them, "I'm baaack!~"

          Eyes flicked to the door as Teddie waltzed inside, wearing the white sweater Toriel had knitted him (he always seemed to be wearing it now) with freshly picked flowers in hand. He paused when he saw the two sitting on the floor, sensing the atmosphere was off, "Ms. Toriel? Frisk-chan? What's wrong?"

          'He's going. To leave.'

          Frisk shot to their feet, some reflex in their body screaming to run even though they knew there was nowhere to run too, stammering excuses so quickly they could barely understand themselves as they pushed past the other human and made a beeline for their room. Once inside, they slammed the door shut and slid to the floor, clasping a shaking hand to their head, 'Why are you here? Why can't you leave me alone?'

          The voice in their head was exacerbated as it replied, 'Are you listening to anything I'm saying? Your little friend is about to fly the coop.'

          'Why are you telling me that? Why should I even listen to you?'  all those questions and more bled together in Frisk's mind. Perhaps it had been a silly hope to think Chara's influence couldn't reach them in the real world anymore. But even so, they found it jarring.

          'Why? Well, frankly, it gets pretty boring watching you and that annoying moron you call a friend playing house all day,' Chara said blithely. 'It's about time one of you finally decided to start the game up again, even if I wouldn't have placed money on it being that bear.'

          'How would you even know that?' Frisk asked, genuinely puzzled over the ghost's apparent knowledge.

          'If you bothered to be observant, you'd have noticed he's been packing stuff away. Little things, like food. And him traipsing off on his own like that? Suspicious, if you ask me,' Chara replied, smugness lacing their voice.

          'I don't believe you,' Frisk said, frowning hard. At least, they didn't want to believe the spirit. True, the two of them hadn't talked about their conversation two nights ago, but he seemed so happy right now, Frisk thought Teddie had accepted what they'd had to say! Surely, he'd . . . come to understand why Frisk had said the things they'd said. Why it was better for both of them to stay here with Toriel than anywhere else. Why they'd dragged the boy's friends through the mud as they had, as guilty as Frisk felt over it. Surely . . .

          'Believe me or don't believe me, it doesn't change what's about to happen,' there was grin in Chara's voice, and a wicked one at that, 'Things are about to get interesting again.'

          The voice in their head went silent when a knock came from the door, Teddie's voice muffled behind the wood, "Frisk-chan? Are you okay?"

          Frisk hurriedly wiped their eyes, taking several deeps breaths to clear their head before rising to their feet and opening the door. Teddie stood beyond hands clasped together and now devoid of flowers, blue eyes shining with concern. That was good, right? Someone who didn't care about you wouldn't look like that. And if they cared about you, they would stay with you. Chara had to be wrong. They just wanted to rile Frisk up.

          Frisk's gaze fell, mumbling, "Sorry . . . I just feel a little . . . bad . . ."

          At that, the other human smiled, "Well, I bet Ms. Toriel can help! Her healing magic is pretty sick~"

          Frisk smiled, but it didn't quite hit the mark like they wanted. Teddie must have taken it to mean they really weren't feeling well, as his eyes widened, " O-oh, you really are not feeling good! Never fear, Frisk-chan, Teddie is here!"

          Their friend grabbed their hand, hollering to Toriel as they pulled them to the living room. An hour later, after a thorough examination and a bowl of snail and vegetable soup, Frisk found themselves in bed, swaddled under blankets as Toriel stood watch.

          "Now, get some rest, my child," She instructed gently, brushing their hair from their eyes, "Sleep will help."

          Frisk offered her a smile, one she warmly returned. Behind her, Teddie shuffled from foot to foot, clutching a pillow as he watched attentively. When Frisk looked at him, his hold tightened as he spoke, "Um, I can sleep somewhere else tonight if you want, Frisk-chan."

          They shook their head, quietly lifting the blankets up and pleading silently with their eyes.

          "Are you sure?" their friend asked, looking worried.

          Frisk nodded, and Teddie finally relaxed and said, "Okay. If you're sure!"

          He scrambled under the covers quick enough, and Frisk smiled a little. Toriel chuckled softly, eyes glimmering with warmth, "Alright, are you all tucked in for the night?"

          Teddie nodded, "Mhm!"

          Frisk shimmied a little lower under the blankets, letting the warmth curl around their toes. The lights flickered off as they did so, and they murmured a soft goodnight as Toriel made for the door.

          "Good night, my little ones. Sleep well," she whispered as she closed the door, the latch shutting firm with a soft click.

          The darkness fell heavy around them, and Frisk began to feel uncomfortable again, scanning the room and half afraid they'd see a pair of red eyes glowering at them from the shadows. But no, that had only been a dream. At their worst now, Chara was just a voice in their head, spinning lies and falsehoods in an effort to get Frisk to drop their guard again. But still, as they replayed their unwanted words over and over again in their head, Frisk found themselves shifting to their side and wrapping their arms around Teddie's.

          A sleepy hum of curiosity broke through the dark, and in a moment of self-doubt, Frisk quietly whispered, "Are you mad at me?"

          Teddie's quiet hum sharpened a little at that, the question rousing him from his doze. Frisk felt him shift onto his own side, voice muffled under the sheets, "No, of course not. Why would I be mad at you, Frisk-chan?"

          "For . . . things I said," Frisk supplied softly, unable to meet the other's gaze as they buried their face in Teddie's sleeve.

          "Oh . . ." Teddie shifted again, and for a scary moment, Frisk thought he was about to pull away. Then, they felt an arm drape over their shoulders, warm and comforting. They felt the other shake his head, "You were just trying to look out for me. I can't be mad at that!"

          " . . . really?"

          "Really, really!"

          Frisk let loose a breath, relief seeping into their frame as they relaxed in full. Thank goodness . . .

          There was brief lull, one Frisk found pleasant in light of Teddie's words as the music box droned softly in the background, the warmth of the bed making them drowsy. Then, the other continued talking, "Hey, Frisk-chan . . . you like staying with Ms. Toriel, right?"

          Frisk peeked at him, frown hidden within the folds of the blanket. It wasn't necessarily a strange question to ask, but after Chara's unwanted return, it left them feeling uncomfortable, "Yes? I like it here a lot."

          Their friend nodded, resting his chin on top of their head as he whispered, "Good. That's good."

          He sounded relieved, and it made Frisk squirm.

          No, Chara was lying. He's not leaving.

          That didn't stop them from tightening their grip on Teddie's arm, voice nearly imperceptible in the quiet, "I like having you here too . . ."

          Teddie made a noise in the back of his throat, but he didn't respond the way Frisk wanted. Instead, he pulled the blankets up and murmured, "Let's go to sleep. It's late, and you need some beauty rest."

          Sleep didn't happen for a while after that. Frisk wasn't sure if they were alone in that regard, either.

          -

          When Frisk awoke, it was still dark in their room. The music box had long ago gone silent, the only sound the quiet breathing of their companion next to them. Frisk didn't move, merely listened, content to just stay there and soak up the warmth beneath the sheets. Beside them, Teddie shifted and rolled over.

          Red eyes met their own.

          Frisk's heart skipped a terrified beat, blood pulsing in their ears as their eyes blew wide, words choking in their throat as they began to shake, "C- . . . Cha- . . ."

          Beside them, Chara's red, red eyes narrowed, "Wake up."

          And they did.

          At first, everything was a distorted, confusing blur, their hands grasping at the sheets as they took a sharp, jolting breath. But when their vision cleared, it was to find the space beside them empty, devoid of the demon that haunted their dreams. Frisk sighed, collapsing onto their back and letting relief soothe the trembling in their joints.

          Then they realized; the space beside them was empty.

          Jolting upright again, awake and very much alert now, Frisk desperately padded at the spot next to their own only to find it bare. Teddie was gone.

          No. No, no, no, Chara was lying. Maybe he just needed to go the bathroom, o-or get a drink, or eat something, anything-!

          You know where he's gone.

          They bit their lip as the unwanted voice crept into their mind, cold and brusque and, above all, smug.

          But Frisk didn't have time to bandy words with them. Quickly, Frisk threw the covers aside and grabbed their clothes, pulling them on as fast as they could before pushing the door open and entering the hall. Their breath came in short, nervous puffs as they listened for any sound of life, scared of being caught, but the house remained still. Toriel must still be asleep.

          The old wood of the floor creaked beneath their feet as they strode towards the entryway, too loud in the quiet of the house. But nothing pounced from the shadows, nothing stirred in the dark, and at once both too slowly and too soon, Frisk found themselves before the stairs leading down into darkness.

          They paused, a shaking hand clasping the railing tight as they stared down into a portal that seemed too dark to be normal. An abyss that would swallow them should they dare leave the safety of Toriel's home, a hell that waited for them to break their promise and turn their back on their convictions.

          Do it.

          The voice was a hiss, commanding, impatient, and Frisk swallowed down a lump of dread.

          Just to get him back before he does something he regrets. That's all.

          With that firmly set into their mind, Frisk took their first, shuddering step into the dark. Their vision flashed white as their foot came in contact with the old, grainy wood, and for one vertigo-inducing moment, Frisk relived every other time they'd done the same in one rising swell of memory. It very nearly knocked the wind from them, drawing a shuddering breath as they threw themselves against the rails and clutched them tight with both hands to keep from falling down the rest of the way.

          Tch. Baby . . . the voice in their head sneered, contemptuous. 

          Swallowing again, carefully swapping one hand over the other, Frisk slowly crept the rest of the way down. When at last they reached the bottom, the stairwell opening up into a long, dark, stony tunnel, did they finally let go. Now to carry forward.

          Every step they took deeper into the Underground's belly was another step through a memory, it seemed. At any moment, Frisk expected to hear Toriel calling them back, taking their hand and gently chiding them with another excuse as she led them back up to the warm safety of her home. But no voice called out.

          Deeper they went still, the darkness growing darker, and for an instant, Frisk thought they saw Toriel standing in front of them instead. Her back was to them, looking ahead as one warning after another spilled from her lips, urging them to turn back, to go home, to stay safe. But no one was there.

          Frisk turned another corner, a sharp left that took them farther and farther away from Toriel's abode. The air felt heavier here, stiller, though that may have just been dread weighing them down like chains. They passed through another ghost in Toriel's shape, her words dispersing like mist as they strode ahead, echoing sullenly at their back. But they were alone.

          And then Frisk was there. The cavern was the same as they remembered it, its natural crevices lined deep with shadows, stalactites reaching down like a spread of sharp, crooked teeth. A rich, earthy smell reached their nose, churned up from the thick, dark soil beneath their feet. And above them all, the door to the rest of the Underground towered before them, its emblem half-obscured in the dim, shadowy light, as imposing as it had been the very first time they had laid eyes on it. But for a moment, for just a moment . . . the shadows along the walls became scorch marks, the musty smell of soil bore a tinge of smoke, and the dirt beneath their feet became softer, finer, grey, dust-like-

          Frisk gasped, wrenching themselves from the memory like a hand from fire, panting and shuddering as they reoriented themselves with the now.

          It was just a memory. It was no longer real. It was just a memory.

          Once they clamed down, it was only then they realized that Teddie wasn't here. And it was only after that did they realize why.

          The door was open. Barely more than crack . . . but it was open.

          Frisk stumbled towards it, fingers finding the outline of the opening, feeling the smooth stone beneath their skin. Darkness lay beyond.

          How . . . how did he know to come here without Toriel? Without me? they thought, unable to comprehend the answer to that question. They had never seen Teddie talk to Toriel about leaving, he hadn't even broached the subject once!

          Unfortunately, someone was all too ready to answer, Really? You know you're not the only one with knowledge of the Underground. You're not the only one who knows how to cheat.

          What? Not the only one . . . that couldn't be right. As far as Frisk knew, only Toriel and themselves really knew about this door. The other residents of the Ruins might, but why would they talk about it? They had no interest in leaving. Unless . . .

          Not the only one who knows how to cheat . . .

          The realization struck Frisk so hard they flinched like they had been slapped. Oh no. No, no, no-!

          They jerked forward towards the opening, nearly throwing themselves over the threshold in a split second panic, mind racing. Oh, how could they be so stupid! How could they forget about Flowey?! How could they not think that he might not try and manipulate someone who was new to the Underground, who offered so many fresh, enticing possibilities for him to toy with!?

          If you're really my friend, you won't come back.

          And they stopped. Right on the cusp of the doorway, hands braced between the door and the wall, they stopped. If they stepped over this threshold . . . they'd break their promise. And if they broke their promise . . .

          Frisk clenched their eyes shut, biting their lip hard enough to draw blood. Why would Teddie do this? They thought he was happy, they thought it would work out! They thought . . . they thought everything would be okay . . .

          Clearly, he wasn't. I told you, people like him make the worst sorts of friends . . . Chara said, and Frisk could imagine their arms crossed and eyes burning haughtily, Now, what are you going to do? Are you going to run back to the goat's skirts and leave him to die? Because you know that's what's going to happen to him out there.

          "Stop it," Frisk said.

          And he doesn't have the power to reset, so he can't come back once he's gone, Chara continued, uncaring or perhaps even enjoying the misery they were eliciting, Especially once he runs into Undyne! That one's merciless. But hey, just think! If that happens, you'll be off the hook! No one will need your soul anymore, will they?

          "Shut up."

          Chara ploughed on, Then you can play house as much as you want! The only price would be that stupid bear's life. Hey, I've seen worse deals. And I know you have, too.

          "I said STOP!" Frisk clasped their hands over their ears and dropped to a crouch, for all the good it would do.

          It didn't help, Of course, that's assuming Flowey won't get bored first. But hey, who knows. I've heard he's gotten very good at drawing things out.

          And Frisk couldn't listen to anymore. In an act of desperation to silence the voice in their head, they took their hand and bit into the flesh hard. The taste of copper splashed across their tongue, sharp pain lancing up their arm like a white hot needle. But the needle drove the voice away, kept them silent, and let Frisk think.

          Teddie had already left, that much was clear. And by the time Toriel noticed, it would be too late to do anything. She wouldn't let the last of her children cross, no matter what. This would be their only chance.

          They could turn away, that much was true. Whatever reason Teddie had, it was clearly more important than this place was. But . . .

          But they couldn't leave him to suffer as they had suffered. Not out there. Not with Flowey. No one deserved that, least of all someone as kind as Teddie was.

          They thought of the words that had held them back. The reason they'd made this promise to begin with, back in sun-swept hall of glass and marble with blooming flowers and singing birds. Heh . . . they guessed they really weren't his friend after all . . .

          Frisk glanced behind them, back to the tunnel that led to Toriel's home. They would break her heart with this, they realized. Especially if they just left without a word . . .

          Reaching inside their pocket, Frisk withdrew the old phone she had given them to keep. They never went anywhere without it, so she could always call them if need be.

          Their fingers were already moving, pushing in the numbers before holding it up to their ear, hearing the responding ping for what felt like years

          Click.

          "Hello?" A sleepy, tired voice answered, "Frisk?"

          She knew their name in this timeline.

          Tears sprang into Frisk's eyes, a choked sob escaping them, "I-I . . ."

          Immediately, the voice on the other end was filled with concern, "My child, what's wrong? Hold on, I'm coming right now."

          "I'm- . . ." it was so hard to get the words out, knuckles going white around the phone.

          They heard a door open. They heard a gasp, "Oh my goodness, where are you?! Frisk, please answer me, I'll be there as soon as I can!"

          Frisk closed their eyes, "I'm sorry."

          "Frisk-?"

          Click.

          Their arms sagged, tears streaming down their face as the phone swung limp in their hand. With a heart as heavy as the sins on their back, Frisk pocketed it and stepped through the door, out into the Underground beyond.

Chapter Text

         The table was silent.

          Yu had his hands laced together before him, eyes wearily tracing the grooves in the beaten metal, thoughts drifting. His friends sat around him, eyes glazed, distant, and ringed by tiredness. Many of them looked drained, all of them frustrated. He couldn't fault them at all. The only fault, he knew, lay with himself.

          It had been two weeks since Teddie had gone missing. Fourteen whole, entire days of fruitless searching and constant, never-ending worry. The Hanamuras had already contacted the police by now, though everyone knew their search would turn up nothing. But then, the tv world had yielded no answers either. And with Rise's tracking skills as altered as they were, it was ineffective in hunting the wayward bear down.

          But I should have seen this coming. I should have known what to do . . . he thought to himself, and not for the first time.

          "So . . ." Chie's unusually quiet voice pulled him from his stupor, "What do we do?"

          For a few moments, no one answered, all at a loss on how to so. It wasn't until Naoto spoke out that the quiet broke, "Well, so far, our own search has turned up nothing. I believe it may be time to contact outside help."

          "Outside help?" Yukiko echoed.

          Naoto nodded, laying her arms over one another on the table as she leaned forward, "Yes. I think it might be for the best if we got in touch with the Shadow Operatives."

          "The Shadow Operatives? Are you sure they wouldn't, I dunno, be too busy for something like this?" Kanji asked.

          "I don't believe so. If anything, the bizarreness of this situation may interest them. And besides . . . Mitsuru-san has mentioned to us before that should we require aid involving the tv world, to not hesitate to call her," Naoto explained.

          "Fuuka-san's tracking skills are way better than mine, too," Rise added, nodding slowly. Then, her face fell, "Maybe . . . she can find something I missed . . ."

          "Yeah . . ." Chie agreed.

          It was then Yosuke spoke up, arms crossed and face set into a scowl, "All I know is, once we find that stupid bear, I'm gonna skin him alive."

          "Yosuke-"

          "No, I'm serious! What the hell was he thinking, doing this?!" the boy all but shouted, eyes simmering with anger as he slammed his fists down on the table.

          At the outburst, Marie frowned, perhaps the only one besides Naoto who had mastered keeping their cool throughout the absurdly long week, "Well, I'll tell you yelling won't help, stupid."

          "He's just worried, Marie-chan," Yukiko quietly broke in, eyes downcast.

          "We all are," Rise said, twining her hands together in her lap, "I just wish I understood why. He promised he wouldn't disappear like this again."

          "Well, maybe something happened?" Kanji supplied, rubbing the tip of his thumb over his nose, "I mean, he wouldn't just do this for no reason, right?"

          "Hell if I know," Yosuke snapped, "But he took his fur and everything, so he must have been planning this."

          "That's not fair, Yosuke-senpai," Rise said, "We don't know that for sure!"

          "Everyone, please settle down," Naoto ordered briskly, casting a meaningful glance around the table to where people had begun to stare. Some of those looks were sympathetic, Yu noticed, which didn't surprise him. Many knew of their strange little circle, and many more of the kindly mascot that frequented the supermarket. Word had already spread quickly of his disappearance.

          When silence fell, sullen though it was, Naoto continued, "Whether for a reason or not, it does nothing to solve our problem. Once we find Teddie, we can inquire then, but until we do, I believe we need the Operatives help. What do you say to this course of action, Senpai?"

          It took Yu a moment to realize she was speaking to him, and by then, everyone was looking at him with a mix of worried and weary looks.

          "Are you okay, Senpai?" Rise asked softly, reaching out to place a manicured hand on his arm, "You've been really quiet this past week . . ."

          Of course. Because how could he tell anyone the truth now when it was obvious that the last time had gone over so swimmingly.

          Instead, he curbed his thoughts and gave her a wan smile, "I know. There's just been a lot to think about this past week."

          He leaned forward, donning his 'leader' mask and pushing all his worries beneath the surface, "I think its definitely an option we need to consider, Naoto. But first . . . I would like to take one last look before we do."

          "To find what, Partner?" Yosuke spoke up, shoulders sagging, "We've scoured that place for miles, it feels like, but we haven't found anything."

          "Just . . . one last time, alright. There might be a clue we missed, something small. If we don't find anything, then I say we go with Naoto's plan and call for help."

          "Well . . . if you want to look one last time," Chie said, standing up with her arms akimbo, "I'll help you out. But I do think Naoto-kun's idea's the best we got right now."

          "I'm in," Kanji said with a nod, rising as well, "I hate sittin' on my ass doin' nothing. Even if we don't find anything, at least it feels like I'm tryin'."

          Everyone else was rising as well, and at last, Yosuke sighed and got up too, "Okay, one last look. But when we come back, calling the Shadow Operatives is the first thing we do, agreed?"

          Everyone did, and Yu could see it in their eyes that they believed they'd find nothing, that this last foray was a waste of precious time better spent getting help. But Yu had something they didn't. And that was a hint.

          Quietly, when no one was looking, he reached into the lapel of his shirt to touch the spine of the journal hidden there. If he'd read it correctly . . . then maybe it could lead them on the right path.

          -

          "Alright, let's fan out," Yu said as soon as everyone had gathered. The trees were still right now, no wind stirring their leaves or rustling their branches. In the distance downhill, he could make out the distant blue shimmer of the lake, sparkling beneath the sunlight. As beautiful as it had always been. But now that one of their own had gone missing within, the quiet stillness suddenly seemed much more ominous.

          His friends gave nods of assent, moving into the trees and shrubbery for some small sign they'd missed. Some began to shift through the underbrush, others looking under the gnarled roots of the trees. None called out. They'd stopped doing that days ago.

          "Hey."

          Yu inclined his head in Marie's direction, and the girl crossed her arms as he did so, lips turned into a typical frown. But beneath it, her gray eyes glimmered with concern, "Are you sure you're holding up alright? Ever since that bear disappeared, you've been acting . . . not like you."

          He smiled at her, but he didn't think it assuaged her worries like he wanted, "I'm just worried. Everyone is."

          She frowned harder, "I know that! But you- I mean- you've been acting stranger than normal, is all!"

          ". . . maybe. Thank you for worrying, but let's get to work," Yu said. He was cutting her off, and he knew she knew it as she mumbled heatedly under her breath as he moved away. But he wasn't ready for this probing. He didn't think he'd ever be ready now.

          But Yu wasn't here to waste time. He was looking for something.

          It took a little guesswork to figure out the exact spot, but once he was certain he had it, he fell to his knees and began digging around in the underbrush.

          He hid something here once. I saw it, and I wrote it down . . .

          And when Yu's fingers brushed something hard and metallic, he realized he'd been right. Clasping the rectangular object tight, he pulled it out in the open where he could see it.

          It was a box. Old, worn, grey, and devoid of any sort of ornamentation save the scratched out, faded letters on top. But what was inside . . .

          Licking his lips, he quickly undid the latch and flipped the lid open, and for a brief second, he was transported through a whirl of memories of himself sitting in his room, flipping open the velvet blue box to reveal the journals within. When they faded, he was left with only the container and a single spiral notebook the color of the sky.

          Just like me, ages ago . . . he thought, fingers trembling faintly as he reached inside and picked it up. It felt heavier in his hand than its size would portray, and after a moment's deliberation, he took a breath and flipped it open.

          The words were old, mixed in with the occasional spelling errors and barely legible in some spots . . . but the handwriting was undeniably Teddie's.

          Dear Diary. Or journal? Well, whatever you are, you're now officially the property of Teddie! And Keeper of All His Secrets!

          Or, well, you will be once I make sure this works! So fingers crossed, okay?

          There was a break between the lines before it continued,

          It works! Hooray! That means I can finally write stuff down and it'll stick! I can start solving things now!

          Yu didn't need to figure out what he meant by 'solving things'. Quietly, he turned the page and began to skim. Much and more of what the bear had written down was in line with the sort of things Yu himself had once written down as well. Observations, ideas, theories . . . if not for the more messy scrawl, he could have almost believed it to have been his own journal at one point.

          Would that it was, he thought sadly, then none of this would be happening.

          Yu tried not to linger too long on the spots where it was clear Teddie had begun to ramble away from his 'investigation', personal streams-of-thought that were obviously a release for the pressure the poor bear had undoubtedly been under. But sometimes, he didn't quite turn the pages fast enough.

          -sometimes I wish I could talk to my friends the way I talk to you. But you're the only one who can remember anything anymore. Yu could hear the sigh between the words, I wish they could remember. They'd know what to do. Sensei'd know what to do.

          Yu flipped away then, wincing like he'd been slapped. 'I'm sorry', he wished he could say, but like so many other times, he was too little, too late.

          The next page gave him pause. Unlike the rest of the journal, there seemed to be no words present at all. Instead, there were . . . pictures? Smiling faces, mailboxes,  symbols and signs, nothing that gave any clear meaning or message. Even stranger still, they all were meticulously written out in neat lines, as if drawn in by a very precise, careful hand, the sort of hand that could not belong to the bear he was so fond of. But then, who could it belong to?

          The switch was so bizarre to his eyes, Yu stopped flipping through the book to peruse this strange message more. It . . . looked familiar, strangely enough, but he could not recall where he had seen it before, if he had even seen it at all. Teddie himself appeared to have been puzzled by its existence too, because looking closer, Yu could make out doodled in question marks and arrows pointing to the message that did not belong to the clean-cut handwriting. Whatever this was, it had caught the bear off guard as well. But that just made him worry more, because what left it here then? What, and when, and why?

          Bzt.

          Yu was on his feet in an instant, fingers clenching tight around the notebook in his hand as he whirled around to face the forest. That sound . . . had not been natural. Not wind, not leaves, not water, but static.

          He heard it again, chafing at his ears, and this time he swore he felt it flutter over his skin like a buzzing mantle. At the same time, a quick, rapid movement drew his eyes, just in time to witness a grey, shifting shape vanish behind a tree.

          BZZZ! BZZZ!

          He nearly jumped out of his skin when his phone began to buzz in his pocket, heart pounding against his ribcage in time to the blood pulsing in his ears. With a soft curse, Yu dug his hand into his pocket and pulled the object free, tapping it open so it displayed the caller.

          It wasn't until Yu saw the name 'Unknown' that he remembered that his phone was not supposed to work inside the tv world at all.

          A swell of sudden trepidation rose in his throat, and instinct honed by months of battle urged him to fling it away and get help. Instead, his eyes drifted to the notebook in his other hand, then back to the phone still ringing, waiting to be answered.

          This . . . was not a coincidence. And with only a nervous swallow to allay his unease, Yu tapped his finger over to the 'call' icon and held the phone to his ear.

          "Hello?" he said softly, forcing his voice not to quaver.

          The noise that assaulted his ear in reply was like none he'd ever heard before; electric wires snapping, metallic screeching, static screaming , all white noise that was broken, uneven, and glitched beyond comprehension. Yet even as he pulled the phone away, cringing from the sound, he could just barely make out the words scrambled within the din, laughing long and loud,

          "C-OM*E JO~~IN ^TH_E FU_N!"

          Click.

          His phone blinked off, screen going black. His grip on the notebook had his knuckles going white, and his hand shook as he pushed the object back into his pocket. Suddenly feeling much less safe than before, Yu quickly turned and began to make his way back to the entryway, stowing Teddie's notebook in his shirt. Quietly and to himself, Yu promised he would return it the first chance he got.

          Only to nearly collide into Yosuke, who came streaking around the corner like madman, red-faced and panting and eyes wide with shock.

          It took every skill Yu had learned in Inaba and the tv to not scream like a little girl.

          "There you are, dude! Come on, you've gotta see this!" his best friend shouted, grabbing Yu's arm and pulling him back the way he'd come. With no other explanation given, Yu could only try to keep apace with him as they moved.

          It wasn't until they both emerged into the fields housing the lake, right on the apex of a hill where the rest of his friends stood, that Yu understood what had Yosuke in such a tizzy.

          A mountain larger than any he'd ever seen before loomed above them all, casting the lake, the fields, and the forest beneath it's shadow. Snow capped its peaks and trees girded its base, and for all intents and purposes, it looked like an ordinary mountain. Except for the fact that no mountain had ever been here like this before. And every now and again, its entire form would shift, flicker and twitch like an image on a broken tv screen.

          "Where . . . ?" Yu started, but he couldn't get the words out, too befuddled to make any adequate inquiry.

          "We don't know!" Yosuke replied anyway, gesturing to the massive landmark, "It just appeared out of nowhere!"

          "For real! Like, I blinked, and suddenly it was there!" Chie added, face white.

          Marie had her arms crossed, looking discomfited and uncomfortable as she shifted from foot to foot, "Its weird. Its like, its here but its not here at the same time. I don't like it."

          "What does that mean?" Someone asks, Yu's not sure who.

          "I don't know how to explain it!" Marie replied, a bit sharply at that, "But its wrong! Its not supposed to be here!"

          "Well no shit," Yosuke said, "But here it is anyway. But why, and what the hell is wrong with it?"

          "Could it be . . ." Naoto mused, before speaking a little more loudly, "Rise, is it possible for you to scan this?"

          "Um, I don't know. My powers are different now, I'm not sure . . ."

          "Just try."

          Rise frowned, but eventually did as she was bid, summoning her persona in all its glory. Her sensory powers were no longer as strong as they'd once been, true, but even so, something must have pinged because the girl gave a gasp.

          "What is it?" Yukiko asked.

          "It's . . . it's like Marie says. The mountain keeps, like . . . glitching in and out of existence. But there's something else too . . ." Rise closed her eyes, focusing hard, "There's . . . when I can sense the mountain, it feels like there's something alive inside it."

          "Alive? Like what?" Yosuke pressed.

          "They aren't shadows, I know that. I think . . . I think they might be people! And there's a lot. I think that's the only reason I can sense them at all," she replied.

          "People? Are you sure?" Naoto inquired even as everyone else twittered in reawakened concern.

          "As sure as I can be," With that, Rise dismissed Kouzeon, biting at her lip before saying, "What should we do?"

          "Is it like a dungeon? Can't we go up to it and check it out?" Kanji put out.

          "I'm not sure that's wise," Naoto said, "If it were stable like an ordinary dungeon, perhaps, but with the way it keeps . . . glitching, I suppose, I feel it would not be safe to get too close."

          "We can still call the Shadow Operatives, can't we?" Yukiko inquired, glancing uneasily at the mountain.

          "I think that's a definitely now," Yosuke said, "This is way away from anything we've dealt with before."

          "Yeah . . ." That was when Chie straightened, "H-hey, did . . . did anyone else feel that?"

          Yu did. A brush of static over his skin, an electric tingle down his spine, making his hair stand on end.

          Before them, the mountain fluctuated.

          Alarm bells rang in Yu's head, and he threw an arm out, calling, "Guys, get away! Back to the entrance, hurry!"

          They were listening, turning on their heels, making to retreat. But then, the static snapped at his skin, prickling down to the bone, stinging, biting, burning, and suddenly the floor beneath his feet was gone. He spun once, catching a glimpse of the sun above his head, of Marie standing on the precipice of the hole that had swallowed him. Her legs were bunching. She was about to jump.

          "NO! MARIE!" He shouted, even though it sounded like the words made no farther than his mouth, "GET HELP!"

          He saw her pause, but no more, for the sun vanished then, taking light and sound and everything with it. His phone buzzed against his side, ringing, ringing, ringing down into the darkness as he plummeted into the depths of a void with no end in sight.

Chapter Text

          Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

          That was the only sound that accompanied Teddie after he left the Ruins behind. His feet didn't squeak in the cold, crisp slush, and his teeth were too busy chattering to make idle conversation with himself, his fur only warming him marginally in the unexpectedly cold weather. Who knew it could snow in the underground? You learned something new everyday!

          Still . . . it was really, really quiet without anyone to talk too. Really quiet . . .

          Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

          Flowey had vanished soon after he'd left, leaving Teddie with only a handful of instructions about where to go and what to do. He'd hoped the flower would at least accompany him through the underground, but it seemed he'd had other plans in mind.

          You'll want to make it to a village called Snowdin. There, you can pick up some supplies, and we can plan what to do next. Be careful though! There's a pair a skeletons who live around here who'd loooove to catch a human like you, so keep a low profile, and keep that costume on. If you see them, just act natural, and you should be fine. Alright, get moving! I'll meet you up ahead!

          And then he'd gone. He didn't know where he was supposed to meet Flowey 'up ahead', and the warning of two skeleton monsters patrolling the underground forest made him uneasy, but he trusted the flower wouldn't leave him hanging. He'd promised he'd help, after all.

          Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

          He hoped Frisk-chan wouldn't be too mad at him for breaking his promise. He hoped Ms. Toriel wouldn't be too sad that he'd left. But it was too late to turn back now. Teddie took comfort in the fact that they were at least together, and he hoped they would be happy. If nothing else, and if his journey should somehow go wrong, they'd have each other, and they could be a family. That was good. Even if he missed them already . . .

          Crunch. Crunch. FWUMP!!

          "WAH!" Teddie's ankle connected with something in the snow, and down he went, face-planting in cold, wet slush.

          "Euuugh . . ." he whined, rolling onto his back and rocking himself back up, patting at his nose to get the snow off, "Cold, cold, cold . . ."

          He searched around for the offender, only to find a thick, broken branch half-hidden beneath the snow, evidently making it it's mission in life to trip unwary passerby's. How rude! His delicate fur was going to be ruined at this rate!

          Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

          His ears shot up, and he felt his fur start to rise in alarm. He was on the ground. That wasn't coming from him.

          Crunch. Crunch. Crunch-

          That wasn't coming from him!

          He shot up to his feet, reeling around with every intent to scare off the newcomer with his best display of grizzly aggressiveness, growling, "RaaaAAAGH!"

          Teddie expected, he didn't really know, a scream, or a shout, or some kind of noise in response, but instead all he got was. . . nothing. Literally nothing, because no one else was around. Just a blank white road and tall black trees and his lonely little self on it, with only a chilly breeze wafting by in reply.

          "Uh . . ." he murmured in the silence, puzzled and wondering if he'd just heard things. He's found from experience that when one is high-strung, your senses tend to play tricks on you.

          The sound of wood splintering behind him with a thunderous crack made him jolt forward in a panic, making it a grand total of two steps before tripping over his own feet and face-planting (again) in the snow.

          "WAH!" FWUMP!

          Groaning, Teddie rolled onto his back, vision blurred beneath a coating of powdery frost. The trees looked smudged like this, and the 'sky' was all gray and hazy and flecked with falling flakes of snow, flittering around like fireflies. There was a closer smudge too, much closer, right over his head. Huh, it almost looked like someone was . . . standing over him . . .

          "Now, I'm not exactly a stranger to cold shoulders, but this seems a bit excessive, huh kid?"

          Teddie giggled, "Ha, good one . . ."

          Then, he realized.

          "AH!" he squeaked, bolting upright and jumping back from the shadow next to him, paws up in a half-remembered judo form he'd seen on Chie's movies, "I-I-I'll have you know I am a very fierce, very dangerous bear, a-a-and I won't go down easy!"

          The stranger chuckled, deep and low and touched with mirth, "I'm sure you're an animal, kid, but is that any way to greet a new pal?"

          They (he?) held out a hand, and it was only then that Teddie really got a good look at them; a blue sweater, black shorts that looked none to warm in this weather, pink slippers, and, very much the biggest issue here, the fact that the stranger had no skin whatsoever.

          The monster in front of him was a skeleton. Once, before he'd become acquainted with monsters, he would have been absolutely terrified. But now, there was only a mixture of wondering curiosity and anxious trepidation.

          The skeleton(?) was grinning at him, all teeth, the curve of his brow moving with almost clay-like smoothness as he winked. His hand was still extended, the other shoved into the pocket of his jacket, waiting for Teddie to take it.

          Just act natural, Flowey's voice echoed in his brain, even as he fought not to panic. The flower had warned him of two skeletons on the hunt for humans in this place. Just his luck the first monster he ran into would be one of them!

          But . . . the skeleton didn't look unfriendly, or dangerous, or anything. And his sense of humor was pretty on-point.

          "Well, you gonna shake my hand, or are we gonna have a staring-contest instead? I'll warn ya, though, I'm well-versed in not doing anything for hours on end," the skeleton said.

          "O-oh! Uh, s-sorry," Teddie replied, hurriedly taking his hand. Act natural.

          No sooner had his fingers closed around the skeleton's hand were his ears suddenly assaulted by the loudest, longest fart-noise he'd ever heard. He could only stand there, awkwardly staring at the skeleton with wide eyes until the sound slowly petered out to silence.

          The skeleton's grin seemed to grow bigger, defying everything Teddie knew about how skeletons worked-which, granted, wasn't very much-pulling back his hand and holding it up to reveal the small whoopee cushion nestled against his metacarpals, "Haha, the old whoopee cushion in the hand trick. Never gets old. Anyway, name's Sans. What's yours, kid?"

          "Uh . . . o-oh, right! My name's Teddie!" Come on, keep it together before he smells you out!

          The skeleton, Sans, eye pips lit up a little, "Teddie? Pft. Nice."

          Teddie frowned at him, "H-hey, I'll have you know, it's a very manly name!"

          Sans just looked amused, waving him off with a boney hand, "Hey, hey, I wasn't pokin' fun. It's just not everyday you meet someone with such a perfect name."

          "O-oh . . . well, my name is pretty perfect," he beamed a little, allowing a little flush of pride to show. Hey, he'd come up with that name all by himself, he could be proud of it from time to time!

          "Well, when the mitt fits. Anyway," Sans stuffed his other hand into his pocket, leaning back and grinning still, "What's a kid like you doin' all the way out in these woods, huh?"

          Oh . . . shoot.

          "U-um, well, you see, I was, I was just wandering around, you know, hehe . . . lots of . . . places to see!" in his defense, it's been a long time since he'd last had to come up with a really good excuse on the fly. He really hoped Sans' didn't notice him sweating.

          Sans tipped his head back, glancing at the forest around him and shrugging, "Eh, I guess if snow's your thing. But you can get plenty of that in Snowdin. Out here, you'd just get lost. Or worse, snowed in."

          Teddie couldn't help the giggle. It was . . . really hard feeling scared or worried when the person you're supposed to be running away from cracked such clever puns, and all around just didn't give off a threatening vibe. Honestly, Sans is barely taller than his bear form!

          So he really couldn't help his reply, either, "Snow problem! I'll just dig my way out!"

          Sans chuckled, "Not bad, kid. You got some jokes."

          Teddie smiled, enjoying the praise. None of his surface friends had ever appreciated his puns the way this skeleton or Toriel or Frisk-chan did.

          Oh . . . he's just made himself sad.

          Sans noticed, "Whoa now, why the long face all of a sudden?"

          Teddie tapped his paws together, knowing he couldn't tell Sans what was really bothering him, but . . . not wanting to avoid answering completely either, "Well, um, I just . . . started missing some people, is all. You tell funny jokes like they do."

          "Oh yeah?" Sans appeared to mull something over in his head for a moment, idly crushing his right heel into the ground before continuing, "Well, I can't exactly magic those people here, you know? But, since as you're sight-seein' and all, how about I snow you around?"

          That cheered Teddie up a little, "Really? You'll escort this little old bear?"

          "Eh, sure, why not?" was Sans' blasé reply, shrugging. The skeleton turned on his heel, raising one hand and giving it a lazy wave, "Come on."

          Sans starting walking, and Teddie paused for a second. He could hear Flowey's warning practically echo in his ears, of two skeletons and how they'd do anything to catch a human. But Sans didn't know about his human form, and, well . . . he was funny and nice. Nothing at all like how he'd imagined a scary, human-catching monster to look. Surely, Flowey must have meant some other skeleton.

          So he followed, and the forest didn't feel so oppressive and silent anymore.

          "So, what are you doing out here, Sans?" Teddie asked, wanting to make some light-hearted conversation.

          "Nothin' much," was his response, loping along over a strange and rickety-looking bridge. Teddie followed a little more slowly, examining the thick wooden bars that had been horizontally erected over it as he passed, idly listening as the skeleton continued, "I'm supposed to be on the lookout for humans, technically . . . but, you know . . . I don't really care about that."

          Oh . . . whew. That's a good thing. He ruffles his fur a little, shaking out some of the loose snow as he pads forward on ahead, glancing again at the bridge.

          "Ya like it? My brother made this," Sans said, noticing Teddie's curious look.

          His ears perked up, "You have a brother? I didn't know skeletons could have brothers!"

          "We sure can, and mine just happens to be the best," Sans boasted, and possibly doing the skeleton equivalent of beaming. The skeleton glanced ahead, "He's around here somewhere. Unlike me, he takes his job very seriously. Not a day goes by that he's not out here huntin' for humans. Good thing you aren't one, huh?"

          Teddie laughs, and sincerely hopes it doesn't sound strained, "Haha, yeah! Good thing! Lucky me!"

          Sans stopped in a more open clearing, where a lone sentry station and a weird, oddly shaped lamp stood collecting snow. Teddie only got a cursory look before Sans' started speaking again, "Oh hey, there he is."

          Teddie's spine went ramrod straight, a shiver of alarm traveling up his body as his head snapped back to the path. And indeed, striding into view is none other than another skeleton, this one far taller and far more stern-looking than the one next to him. His clothes were more battle-ready too, with pauldrons and heavy boots and gloves, topped off with a snazzy orange scarf that billowed behind him. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Sans glancing at the peculiar lamp before shrugging, "Ah well, that ain't gonna work . . ."

          As soon as the tall skeleton catches sight of Sans, he practically snorts steam and stomps over to him, even as the smaller one waves in greeting, "Sup, bro."

          "YOU KNOW WHAT'S 'SUP', BROTHER!" The tall one shouts, voice ringing over the treetops, and Teddie goes completely still, hoping the other won't notice him, "IT'S BEEN EIGHT DAYS AND YOU STILL HAVEN'T. RECALIBRATED. YOUR. PUZZLES! YOU JUST HANG AROUND OUTSIDE YOUR STATION! WHAT ARE EVEN DOING?!"

          "Helping lost bears, apparently," Sans replied blithely, and Teddie can't stop the squeak of panic that escapes him.

          "HELPING WHAT?" for the first time, the tall skeleton takes note of him, and his hollow sockets widen, "OH. WELL, HOW UNUSUALLY PRODUCTIVE OF YOU BROTHER! NOW, IF YOU COULD JUST FUNNEL THAT SORT OF ENERGY INTO HUMAN-HUNTING . . ."

          "Nah, you got that on-lock, bro. Don't even need to lift a finger-bone."

          "THAT'S JUST AN EXCUSE TO BE LAZY! EVEN IF YOU ARE RIGHT AND I WILL UNDOUBETDLY BE THE ONE TO CATCH A HUMAN! AND THEN, I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL GET ALL THE THINGS I UTTERLY DESERVE! RESPECT! RECOGNITION! I WILL FINALLY BE ABLE TO JOIN THE ROYAL GUARD! PEOPLE WILL ASK, TO BE, MY, FRIEND? I WILL BATHE IN A SHOWER OF KISSES EVERY MORNING!"

          "Hm . . ." Sans hummed thoughtfully, then nodded his head in Teddie's direction, "Maybe this guy can help you."

          "Ah!" Teddie squawked.

          "REALLY SANS? YOU CANNOT EVEN BE BOTHERED TO DO THE WORK YOURSELF? I SWEAR, YOU JUST GET LAZIER AND LAZIER EVERY DAY!" Papyrus yells, stomping his foot on the ground.

          "Hey, take it easy. I've gotten a ton of work done today," Sans waits a beat, then points at Papyrus with both index phalanges, "A skele-ton."

          Another giggle rises up unbidden, and he clamps his paws over his mouth as Papyrus glowers down, "SANS!"

          "Come on, you're smiling," Sans eggs on, and Teddie can see with a start that the tall skeleton is!

          Papyrus pouts, "I AM AND I HATE IT! BUT YOU NEED TO LEARN SOME RESTRAINT! LOOK! YOUR COMPANION HAS PRACTICALLY FALLEN ILL BECAUSE OF HOW POORLY EXECUTED THAT JOKE WAS!"

          The feeling intensifies, and this time both skeletons hear his chuckles. Without even really meaning too, Teddie opens his mouth and says, "Actually, I'd say that tickled my funny bone!"

          "Ha, good one," Sans chuckles.

          "AAH! SAN'S, THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE! I WILL NOT HAVE YOU CORRUPTING THE YOUTH!"

          "Better take him off my hands then, huh? Hey, maybe he can help you with your puzzles," Sans suggestion sends a new thrill of alarm through Teddie, evaporating any good feelings he had, "Sides, he's here 'sight-seeing'. You could show him around."

          "OH, TRULY? WELL, AS A FUTURE ROYAL GUARD WHOSE DUTY IS TO THE PEOPLE, I CAN'T VERY WELL SAY NO TO THAT, CAN I?" Papyrus placed his hands on his chest and puffed his chest out, but there's a sudden glimmer of excitement in his eyes that wasn't there before. He looks at Teddie, grinning and gesticulating to the sky, "WELL, NEW COMRADE, LET US BE OFF! THERE'S PLENTY OF WORK STILL TO DO, AND YOU'LL FIND THAT THERE CAN BE NO BETTER GUIDE FOR YOU THAN I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS! AS FOR YOU, BROTHER . . ."

          Sans looks up at him, "Yeah?"

          "I SUGGEST THAT WHEN YOU GET BACK TO WORK, YOU PUT A LITTLE MORE . . . BACKBONE INTO IT!" Papyrus then turns on his heel and sprints off, laughing all the while, "NYEHHEHEHE!"

          Well, that . . . was definitely something. Still . . . Teddie wasn't sure if he wanted to go with him. If Papyrus found out he looked like a human underneath his fur, who knows what he'd do. Actually, no, Teddie had a pretty good idea about what he'd do, and he didn't want to stick around for that. He had to get to the barrier!    

          "So, uh, you might want to go on and catch up to him," Sans' said, a verbal nudge, "Or else he'll come back and then you'll have to sit through more of my hilarious jokes."

          "U-um, yeah, but . . . I thought you were going to show me around," he replied, and the sadness wasn't entirely faked. He liked Sans' jokes.

          "Ah, my brother's way more fun than me. Besides, I'll be a little honest with ya, I kinda got another reason for doin' this, ya see?" Sans flicked his eyes to where his brother had gone, "See, my bro's been kinda down these past couple of days. So, I figure someone to hang around with would cheer him up a little. Think you can do that for me? Consider it payment for showin' ya around."

          Teddie pursed his lips a little at that, "But you only showed me the bridge!"

          Sans chuckled and held up his hands, "Hey, what can I say? I'm a lazy guy. But don't worry. My brother's actually pretty harmless, and I'll keep an eyesocket out for ya."

          The skeleton points at said socket with his thumb, then winks, a move Teddie wouldn't ordinarily think possible for solid bone. Then he's turning away, trundling back down the road he'd come.

          "H-hey, wait!" Teddie called out, though inside, he's not really sure why.

          Sans pauses anyway, glancing back, "Yeah?"

          He oscillated on the spot, tapping his paws together as he thought about what to say, "U-um, well . . . I-I'll do it! I'll help your brother out!"

          It comes out of nowhere, and Teddie can't even really rationalize why he's promising this skeleton he'd help his human-hunting brother. But the curve of bone above Sans' sockets lift like eyebrows, and his grin widens just a little, "Alright, cool. Catch ya later, kid."

          "Y-yeah. I'll . . . see you later," Teddie gestures at his eyes like Sans' did earlier, but even he has to admit it falls a little short, "You know, with . . . my eyes!"

          But Sans chortles anyway, "A for effort, kid."

          And then the skeleton's gone, leaving Teddie in the snow. Alone.

          He glances behind him, up  to the trail Papyrus had taken. He . . . should probably get a move on. It was too late to try and hide, they both had seen him, and he'd promised he'd help, so . . . what harm could there be now in following?

          Just act natural . . . and he'd be fine.

          Hopefully.

          -

          "AH! THERE YOU ARE, NEW COMRADE!" Papyrus bellows when he catches sight of Teddie. He flags a little when the skeleton turns to him, and has to remind himself that right now, he looks like a monster and not a human and therefore was safe from any bone attacks. After all, that Snowdrake fellow had been all to happy to give him directions. Once he . . . listened to a few of his . . . jokes. But that had been fine, Teddie had been happy to give him a few pointers in reply!

          Now, the big issue. Teddie hoped his acting skills hadn't diminished any, "Um, hi! Nice weather we're having?"

          Papyrus nods, hands braced against his bony hips, "INDEED! A PERFECTLY CRISP AND COOL DAY, EXCELLENT FOR RECALIBRATING A FEW PUZZLES!"

          Teddie tilts his head sideways, confused, "Puzzles?"

          "YES, PUZZLES OF MY OWN INVENTION! DEVIOUS LITTLE CONTRAPTIONS MEANT TO BEFUDDLE AND CONFUSE ANY HUMAN WHO COMES OUR WAY! I CAN'T WAIT TO SHOW YOU!" Papyrus does look very thrilled at the prospect, but Teddie can't stop the tingle of anticipation that crawls down his fur. Are these like . . . traps?

          "COME ALONG THEN!" Papyrus sets off briskly, long legs taking him far, and Teddie has to trot just to keep up.

          They pass a cardboard sentry station that's decidedly well put-together considering its location, and Papyrus boasts proudly about it to him even though he rarely used it.

          "ITS IMPORTANT FOR ANY ROYAL GUARD (OR ANY FUTURE ROYAL GUARD) TO KEEP A STATION LIKE THIS AVAILABLE! YOU NEVER KNOW WHEN IT WILL BE USEFUL!" he told him as they pass it.

          In an effort to appease the tall skeleton, Teddie asked, "Why do you want to be a royal guard?"

          "WELL, THAT SHOULD BE OBVIOUS! AS A ROYAL GUARD, I'LL BE POPULAR! I'LL HAVE FAME, PRESTIGE, AND MORE FRIENDS THAN I'LL KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH!" Papyrus sighed, looking dreamy, "I'VE KNOWN I'VE WANTED TO BE A ROYAL GUARD EVER SINCE I WAS A BABYBONES . . ."

          But one aspect of his spiel catches Teddie's attention, "Friends? Don't you . . . have those already?"

          Papyrus gasps in indignation, "WELL, OF COURSE I HAVE FRIENDS! MY FOLLWER COUNTER IS EXACTLY A DOZEN AWAY FROM A DOUBLE DIGIT NUMBER!"

          A dozen from a . . . double digit . . . Teddie gets himself lost trying to figure out the math of Papyrus' reasoning, and by the time he realizes why that statement is both funny and sad, the skeleton has already moved on.

          It isn't very long before they come to another sentry station, this one looking much more official, and Teddie nearly has a heart attack when a dog monster pops it's head up over the edge, peering suspiciously around, "Did something move? Cause if something mov- . . . oh, hey Papyrus."

          "HELLO, DOGGO!" Papyrus waved, waltzing along.

          "Puzzles?"

          "OF COURSE!"

          The dog monster sniffed at the air, never quite losing that suspicious squint, "And, uh, who's the new guy? Friend of yours?"

          Teddie didn't fail to notice the small hitch in Papyrus step at Doggo's inquiry, "A NEW AQUAINTENCE! REALLY NOW, THAT SHOULD BE OBVIOUS!"

          Maybe he's just imagining things, but . . . the skeleton sounds a little less loud than before. Or maybe his eardrums were just going. That could be it too.

          "Oh. Uh, okay then," the dog looks in the general area Teddie's standing and huffs, "Have fun."

          Doggo ducks back behind the station, and Teddie hears something crunch once before a small trickle of smoke begins to eddy out from the opening. Papyrus isn't really paying it any mind, continuing onward up the trail. Teddie has little choice but to follow.

          They pass numerous little areas, all swathed in snow and ice and glittering like a winter wonderland. It isn't until they reach a wide area with a huge patch of smoothed out snow that the tall skeleton comes to a stop, "ALRIGHTY, HERE WE ARE!"

          Teddie looks around, not seeing anything entirely out of the ordinary except the ground before them, "Um . . . what's here?"

          "MY FIRST PUZZLE OF COURSE, WHICH YOU SHALL HELP ME HUMAN-PROOF!" Papyrus explains excitedly, prancing around to the other side and skirting the edge of the field doing so. Once he's there, he stops and places a hand on his chin, frowning, "BUT ITS QUITE STRANGE! USUALLY MY BROTHER IS AROUND FOR THESE SORTS OF THINGS . . ."

          "You could say its pretty puzzling, huh bro."

          "GAH!" Papyrus whirls around, and to Teddie's surprise, Sans is standing right behind him, grinning. Papyrus points at him, admonishing, "SO YOU WERE HERE, BROTHER! NAPPING AGAIN, I IMAGINE! JUST LIKE LAST NIGHT!"

          "I believe that's called . . . sleeping," Sans replied.

          "EXCUSES, EXCUSES!" Papyrus turns away from him, looking back at Teddie, "ALRIGHT, NOW THAT MY BROTHER HAS SHOWN UP, LET'S GET TO IT!"

          There's a beat of silence, and Teddie hums, "Um, get to . . . what, exactly?"

          "NYEHHEHE, THAT'S THE FUN PART! YOU SEE, THIS IS THE INVISIBLE ELECTRICITY MAZE! SHOULD ANY HUMAN COME THROUGH HERE, THEY'D HAVE TO FIGURE OUT HOW TO PASS THROUGH THIS INGENIOUS DEVICE WITHOUT TOUCHING THE WALLS! WE'LL JUST HAVE YOU PASS THROUGH IT INSTEAD TO SEE HOW EFFECTIVE IT IS AGAINST SOMEONE WHO HASN'T HAD A HAND IN MAKING IT!"

          ". . . W-w-what?" Teddie gasps, "Isn't that dangerous?!"

          "OH, ONLY A LITTLE! THE ZAPS DON'T EVEN HURT THAT MUCH!" Papyrus told him, "I KNOW, I'VE TESTED IT MYSELF!"

          Teddie was still gaping at him in horror, and was just shy of looking for an excuse to back out of this rather insane plan when he caught Sans eye. There wasn't any extreme emotion in them, just casual observance, but it did remind Teddie of his promise; he'd . . . help Sans' brother . . .

          Unbearlivable . . . he thought as he switched his gaze to the maze. Which he can't see at all.

          This is gonna stink . . . but Sans is still watching and Papyrus is looking so very hopeful, and he can't very well say no anymore.

          Just do it! For Frisk-chan and Toriel and everyone on the surface, bear up and go!

          A bit more motivated, Teddie puts on his best game face and shouts, "Alright, here I go!"

          He takes his first step, and very nearly jumps out of his fur as the sound of electricity going haywire booms across the clearing. Except he's not in any pain, because Papyrus is the one taking the damage. When it ends, his mouth is hanging open, and he watches as a significantly crispier Papyrus gives the maze an equally befuddled look.

          Then, he turns on his brother, "SANS, WHAT DID YOU DO?!"

          "I think he has to hold the orb," the short skeleton supplies, shrugging but looking infinitely amused.

          "OH," Papyrus looks embarrassed now, "OKAY."

          The tall skeleton begins walking back to Teddie, only this time, he walks through the maze to do it, and he does it without single hiccup. Once he's standing in front of him, he holds up a small, round orb apologetically and says, "HOLD THIS PLEASE!"

          He then deposits the orb right on Teddie's head and briskly walks back until he's back beside his brother, "OKAY, TRY NOW!"

          "Um, okay!" Teddie calls back, looking back at the maze. Except . . . now, there's something a little different about it. All throughout it, there a large, dark tracks marks where Papyrus' boots kicked up the snow, leaving a very visible trail through the maze, and Teddie starts to grin. With much less hesitation than before, he follows the trail to a T, keeping the orb balanced on his head all the while until he reaches the other side. Once there, he throws his paws up and cries exuberantly, "I DID IT!"

          Papyrus is looking on, amazed and, if he was seeing right, just a little bit relieved, "INCREDIBLE! YOU BREEZED THROUGH IT SO EASILY!"

          Still beaming and puffing out his chest, Teddie replied, "That's because I just so happen to be the smartest bear around!"

          "APPARENTLY! BUT YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS?" Papyrus doesn't wait for him to ask, "IT MEANS ONCE I FOOL-PROOF THIS TO OUTSMART EVEN YOU, THERE'S NO HUMAN ANYWHERE WHO'LL BE ABLE TO OVERCOME IT!"

          That takes the wind out of Teddie's sails. He'd . . . forgotten the purpose of these puzzles.

          "COME NOW, MY NEW COMRADE! THERE'S STILL MORE TO DO!" Papyrus takes off, with a much bigger spring in his step than before, looking for all the world like a little child in a candy store.

          Teddie watches him go before glancing at Sans, who's wearing a fond smile on his face. When he notices Teddie looking, the skeleton nods, "Hey, thanks . . . my brother seems like he's having fun."

          "U-um, sure," Teddie replied, rubbing the back of his head, "No problem!"

          "By the way . . ." Sans continued, pips lighting up, "Did you notice that weird outfit he's wearing? We made that a few weeks ago for a costume party. He hasn't worn anything else since . . . he calls it his 'battle body'."

          If it's possible, his grin grows even more fond, "Man. Isn't my brother cool?"

          Well . . . if Teddie thinks about it, really thinks about it, he imagines that without all the human-hunting-ness of his schemes, Papyrus . . . might actually be a lot of fun to hang around. So it's . . . kinda sad that he wants to capture humans so badly.

          "Hey, Sans?" he asks, wringing his paws together, "If Papyrus did catch a human . . . he wouldn't hurt them, right?"

          "Well, that's a question all right. Why you askin'?" Sans inquires in return, but there's a slight sharpness to his grin now that sets Teddie on edge.

          Teddie scrambles for what to say, because its only now he's realizing how potentially disastrous his question is, "U-um, y-you know, just . . . hypothetically? I mean, not to say there's a human here or anything, but-"

          "Nah. Of course not," Sans said, but while his tone is casual, the sharpness in his smile still hasn't dulled, "But say, hypothetically, a human did show up. You ever opened your basic history book, kid?"

          Oh boy. It really feels like his walking on a landmine right now, "Uh, well, I know . . . humans trapped us underground . . ."

          "You're not wrong," Sans sighs, and runs a bony hand over his skull, "Eh, you know what, don't worry about it. If it's bothering ya that much, though, just remember what I said before; my brother's pretty harmless."

          There's a few moments of awkward quiet, until Teddie finally nods and says, "Y-yeah. You're right. Thanks, Sans."

          He hurries away after that, and hopes it doesn't look too suspiciously like he's trying to flee.

(----)

          Sans watches the strange little bear called 'Teddie' trot away, thoughts running a mile a minute as he tries to put these new, and frankly bizarre, pieces together. He doesn't recall a bear ever emerging from the Ruins in any of his entries, but, there you have it. But while he's certainly suspicious, he doesn't read any killer intent beneath that colorful body of fur, and it's not his biggest issue right now.

          So, once he's out of sight, Sans blips on over back to the Ruins entrance, for just a quick peek.

          The door's still open, snow trailing inside, and it's still strange to see. Never once has Sans recalled that door being open, even when the human finally emerged and began their trek through the underground. He wondered if perhaps that nice old lady will notice when next she comes, and shut it again for good.

          He'd say that thought would make him sad, but eh . . . he's sort of passed that point now. Resets and all that.

          Sans' eyes catch a flicker of movement, only discernable because of the white stiffness all around him, and his phalanges twitch, a wisp of reactive magic ghosting around his fingertips just as his left eye begins to burn. He smothers it quickly, forcing himself to inhale and ease away the sudden flare of nervous tension crackling in his bones.

          When he looks again, he sees that nothing has emerged. Perhaps . . . he'd just been imagining it.

          Better to be imagining, honestly . . . after what he'd read . . . and what he'd dreamt . . .

          It'd be better if the human never showed their face again.

          But he's learned not to hope like that, so instead, he shoves his hands in his pockets and blips away again.

          He's got something new to keep him occupied.

Chapter Text

          "Uuuum . . ."

          Teddie stared at the pamphlet in his paws, the word scramble in front of him perplexing in . . . a very maddening way. He'd uncovered most of them, there was just this one word, and there was a word almost like it in the garbled mess, but one letter was off, just one letter only, and it wasn't fair, he'd been standing here for twenty minutes!

          A frustrated little growl escaped him, and he glanced up at the pair of skeletons who'd been dutifully watching him off to the side. Sans was grinning, one eye shut and the other very close to joining its partner, and Papyrus was . . . also grinning, but he was much more lively and watching Teddie with a hawk's intensity. When the orange-clad knight-to-be saw him look up, the skeleton waved at him, "CARRY ON, NEW ACQUAINTANCE, YOU'RE DOING VERY WELL!"

          Sans just gave him a lazy thumbs-up, but there was something almost like laughter in his look that made Teddie wonder if there was a joke here he was missing. But then, Sans had made this one, so maybeeee . . . there was a joke he was missing.

          "Hmmm . . ." Teddie looked back down at the paper, ears folding low, "I can't figure it out . . ."

          Papyrus’ sockets blew open in surprise, “REALLY? WELL, THAT PROVED TO BE MORE EFFECFTIVE THAN I THOUGHT!”

          Sans shrugged, hands still in his pockets, “What can I say, I like ‘em simple. Not too wordy, ya know?”

          Teddie let out a small giggle, though he may have felt a little more amused by it if he hadn’t been stuck on the wordy part of this puzzle for as long as he’d been. Really, he’d standing in the snow so long his poor toes were starting to freeze!

          Keeping the paper clutched in his paws, he trotted over to the pair and asked, “So, uh, what was the answer? I got most of them, but there’s just one here-?”

          He jumped when Papyrus gave a very sudden and very dramatic gasp, snatching the paper out of Teddie’s paws. With a look of irritation, he then held the paper out to Sans with a hand braced admonishingly on his hip, shouting, “SANS, IS THIS A CROSSWORD?! WE ARE SUPPOSED TO BE HUNTING HUMANS, TAKE THIS MORE SERIOUSLY!”

          “Sounds like ya got a few cross words for me,” Sans said with a grin, and Teddie couldn’t stop a laugh from getting through.

          “SANS! A CROSSWORD IS NOT GOING TO STOP A HUMAN! BESIDES, IF ANYTHING OF THIS SORT WOULD THOROUGHLY BAMBOOZLE ONE, IT WOULD HAVE TO BE JUNIOR JUMBLE!” Papyrus looked a hundred percent certain of this, and Teddie could only wonder why. He had never heard of ‘Junior Jumble’ before.

          The other skeleton gave his brother a look of . . . well, Teddie wasn’t sure, but it was definitely a look, “What? Really, dude? That easy-peasy word scramble? That’s for baby-bones.”

          “UN. BELIEVABLE!” Papyrus suddenly turned to Teddie, and the little bear immediately snapped to attention, “AQUAINTANCE! SOLVE THIS DISPUTE, IF YOU WILL! WHICH IS HARDER? A SILLY LITTLE CROSSWORD, OR THE FAR MORE INTELLECTUALLY STIMULATING JUNIOR JUMBLE?”

          Teddie shot a look back and forth between the two, completely at a loss and growing more and more aware of their stares. Normally, staring would be appreciated, but not when you are acting incognito and trying to keep your human side from being found out!

          “U-uh, um, well . . .” Teddie tapped his paws together, feeling a little embarrassed, “I, uh . . . don’t know what Junior Jumble is.”

          There was a very long stretch of silence, and he was afraid he’d said something wrong.

          But Papyrus just looked flummoxed, “YOU’VE NEVER HEARD OF JUNIOR JUMBLE? WELL NOW, THAT’S JUST TERRIBLE! THIS HAS TO BE REMEDIED IMMEDIATELY!” there’s a gleam of determination in the skeleton’s sockets, and if Teddie is reading this atmosphere right . . . it almost looks like a little bit of hope too, “NEVER FEAR, NEW AQUAINTANCE! I WOULD BE HAPPY TO SHOW YOU THE MANY JOYS OF JUNIOR JUMBLE! PERHAPS OVER A NICE HOT PLATE OF SPAGHETTI! OOH, YES, THAT SOUNDS IDEAL! NYEH-HEH-HEH!”

          Caught up as he was in his jubilation, Papyrus turned and suddenly blitzed out through the snow, sending up large white flurries in his wake, his laughter fading out behind him. Aaaand . . . leaving him standing in the snow. Did that mean he wasn’t his assistant anymore?

          “Papyrus . . . finds difficulty in interesting places . . .” Sans commented once he had gone, “Yesterday he got stumped trying to ‘solve’ the horoscope.”

          “Oh, I know about horoscopes!” Teddie piped up, ears lifting at the familiarity of the word, “I remember! I heard about it from Yuki-chan one day, and I asked Sensei to explain it too me, and he told me what my horoscope was! And then I- . . . I . . .”

          He trailed off, face falling into a sad and troubled frown. That was . . . a good memory. Why did it feel so bad now?

          Sans knocked his head slightly to the left, the brow of one eye curving just so, “Whoa, now that was a mood shift. What’s got your fur all ruffled, kid?”

          “N . . . nothing,” he shook himself hard, enough to make his normally smooth fur fluff out. He gave Sans an apologetic smile, “Sorry! Anyway, I should probably go catch up with Papyrus! Toodles!”

          And off he ran. He didn’t hear Sans follow, but he didn’t stop until he was sure he had put some distance between himself and the crossword puzzle trap thing. To be honest with himself, he . . . wasn’t entirely sure why he ran, because Sans isn’t really threatening, and the skeleton had only been asking him if he was alright. But maybe he shouldn’t think about it too hard. He needed to get going anyway.

          So he carried on, passing by a table with a plate of very frozen noodles on it covered in a thick red sauce. A note had been left beside it that was half-buried in snow, obviously from Papyrus imploring any humans who came through to eat it. Teddie entertained the idea for a moment, because he did feel a little hungry, but there was something about the smell that was . . . odd. Very odd. And made any possibly hungry bears in the area think twice about sinking their teeth in it.

          And also, it was really, really frozen. ‘Stuck-to-the-table’ frozen.

          Sooo . . . he should probably just leave it alone.

          Even so, it wasn’t long before he came to another roadblock, this one in the form of large, intimidating spikes. He walked indecisively back and forth in front of it as he looked for a way to cross, only to find nothing. An itch built up in Teddie’s nose, and he wiggled it to try and relieve it. It didn’t work, and he then sneezed, shivering a little in the cold. He’d been out in it for a while now, and without a comfy scarf or jacket to wear, it was starting to seep in through his fur. Which would absolutely mess up his carefully maintained fuzz, now that he thought about it, and he had no grooming supplies to fix it!

          “Oh, where’s Yosuke’s wallet when I need it?” he mumbled, hands pressed to the sides of his head.

          “Bark, bark!”

          Teddie jumped with a startled shriek, spinning around to face the source of the noise. A pair of beady black eyes stared back at him over a furry white muzzle and lolling red tongue, and with a flush that would have made his human cheeks go red, he realized that a little dog was what had scared him.

          A dog wearing . . . armor.

          The dog barked again, panting and staring and evidently waiting for him to do something. Was this . . . another monster?

          “Uh . . . h-hi,” he replied, because really, what else could he say to this little creature. He lifted a paw for good measure too.

          It provoked a very unexpected response, because as soon as his paw went up even a fraction, the dog began to shake, excitement sparking brightly in its dark eyes. It barked again, and suddenly it leapt for him, completely defying the weight of its armor in favor of soaring the skies like a cute, fuzzy missile.

          “AAAH!” Teddie shouted, scrambling to dodge. He heard a soft poof behind him as the canine landed in the snow, white frost puffing up into the air.

          Spinning on one foot to face the dog, Teddie pointed at him and yelled, “No! Bad dog!”

There was a low whine in response, the dog’s ears falling dejectedly, and it was giving him such sad puppy eyes that Teddie started to feel a little bad.

The dog whines again, this time more earnestly, and Teddie noticed that its eyes had drifted down. Its only then he notices the warmth hovering in front of him, and he looks down as well to see that his SOUL is out, visible for all to see.

“Oh . . .” even now, it still looks bad. He hears the dog yip softly under its breath, and the canine no longer looks like it’s in a playing mood.

Quickly, the bear raises his paws, “I-it’s okay! It doesn’t hurt or anything, promise!”

The dog let’s out a soft boof, but Teddie doesn’t miss the way the dog’s eyes flick to his raised paw, an almost longing look in the little dog’s gaze. Its only then that it finally clicks for the bear about what the dog had been after all this time.

          “Oh, is that what you want?” Teddie asks, lifting up his paw. The dog’s head rises in response, ears perking up, “Well, you could have just asked. Jumping on people is really rude, and I should know because I’ve been told not to do it lots of times!”

          The dog barks, louder this time and panting in excitement, and slowly, Teddie inched just a little closer. Then, holding his breath, he lightly tapped the top of the dog’s head.

          What happened next was also very unexpected. The dog’s head jerked up, but their body didn’t move an inch outside of the animal’s spastically waving tail. Almost like it . . . grew. Not quite sure if he was just seeing thing’s, Teddie did it again a little more firmly, only to jerk back with a startled ‘eep’ when the exact same thing happened.

          The dog was clearly unable to contain its excitement anymore, too, because suddenly it was shooting forward, nearly bowling Teddie over in its enthusiasm. Snow went up everywhere, the little dog bounding around the clearing, barking wildly.

          There was a beat of silence, then Teddie shook himself out, snow falling off his body in clumps. He sniffed, frowning, “Well, that was rude.”

          The little dog bounced back once, tail still wagging and tongue still lolling, yipping again. Then, in the most doggy display of affection, it leaned over and began to lick his face in earnest.

          “Eugh, no, stop, this fur is dry-clean only!” Teddie protested, trying to gently push the dog away and only making his situation worse when the animal considered it more friendly pets. He felt another flush of warmth over his chest, and his SOUL sank away, signaling the end of the fight.

          If a fight was what you could call this.

          It takes some time before the dog is satisfied with its ministrations. It barks once, content despite the fact that’s its neck is much longer than it should be, then bounds away into the trees until its enthusiastic yipping can no longer be heard.

          Teddie stood back up to his feet, trying vainly to wipe the dog spit off his face and grumbling just a little, when a flash of red drew his eyes down. He tilted his head to the side in curiosity when he saw what looked like a map drawn out in the harder packed snow beneath the finer powder that the dog had kicked up in its passing. It . . . kinda looked similar to where he was standing.

          A light bulb going off over his head, he back-tracked until he found a split in the road he’d come from. Shooting down the path he didn’t take, he eventually found a small square spot of heavily packed in snow. After a little rooting around, Teddie found a small switch, one he quickly flicked.

          There was a slight vibration that ran beneath his feet, and he heard a distant clack. Grinning, he ran back to the place he’d been stuck on and found that the spikes had sunk back into the ground, leaving the path open.

          Hehehe, I solved it! he thought triumphantly, trotting across to the other side with a kick in his step.

          He’d only walked for maybe ten seconds before he was stopped again. This time by a pair of dogs draped in intimidating black robes and carrying even more intimidating giant axes.

          Teddie had half a mind to turn around and run, but the pairs muzzles were already wrinkling a mile a minute as they sniffed the air. They zeroed in on him pretty quickly after that, and when they get closer, Teddie notices that their paws are closely intertwined.

          “What’s this new smell?” one said, tone bearing a soft feminine lilt beneath the growly . . . growlness of her voice.

          “Smells cold,” the other one sniffs him closely, “And furry.”

          “Uh . . .” he stares at the two, unmoving and not sure how to talk himself out of this one.

          “Are you a puppy?” the girl dog asks, nose practically in his face.

          “Huh? N-no, I’m a bear. Can’t you see me?” he asks, genuinely perplexed.

          “Bear?” the two echo, looking lost.

          Oh boy . . .

          “AHA! THERE YOU ARE, COMRADE!”

          For once, the loud voice actually made him feel a little relieved, and he watched as the skeleton strode over to them with brisk, confident steps.

          “DOGAMY! DOGARESSA! I’M GLAD TO SEE YOU HAVE MADE YOURSELF ACQUAINTED WITH MY ACQUAINTANCE!” the skeleton announced, grinning.

          “Your acquaintance?” Dogamy asked.

          “So this strange puppy is with you?” Dogaressa inquired.

          Teddie pursed his lips, huffing, “I’m a bear, I already told you!”

          Papyrus paid his correction no mind, yelling, “THEY ARE CURRENTLY HELPING ME RECALIBRATE MY PUZZLES! AND DOING A VERY FINE JOB OF IT, TOO!”

          Teddie shifted in the snow a little, feeling a small swell of pride at the praise. Ah, it was his weakness!

          “Well, then we wish you good luck! Carry on, weird puppy!” Dogamy said, growing much more amiable as he stopped his sniffing.

          “See you in Snowdin, Papyrus,” Dogaressa told the skeleton, nodding to him before squeezing her companion’s hand. Together, the two carried on, axes shrugged over their shoulders and they carried on their patrol.

          “AH, WHAT PLEASANT MONSTERS THEY ARE! ANYWAY, TALLY-HO! WE STILL HAVE SOME PUZZLES THAT NEED TENDING TOO!” Papyrus gestured for Teddie to follow before walking deeper into the underground, as briskly as he’d come. Teddie had to jog just to keep up with his long strides.

          “SO, HOW WAS YOUR ADVENTURE HERE? I’M IMPRESSED YOU FOUND THE WILLPOWER TO IGNORE MY HOMEMADE SPAGHETTI!” Papyrus chatted.

          “Oh, you made that stuff?” Teddie asked. So that was what it was called. He had wondered.

          “INDEED!” Papyrus puffed his chest out, pushing a thumb into his chest, “YOU MAY NOT THINK IT, BUT I AM IN FACT A CHEF! AND A MARVELOUS ONE AT THAT! I TAKE GREAT PRIDE IN WHIPPING UP RECIPES TO DAZZLE THE TONGUE!”

          Teddie had a few doubts about that considering what he’d smelled, but . . . he didn’t quite have the heart to tell the skeleton that. As much as he felt he should be wary, he was . . . kinda starting to like Papyrus.

They came to a small glade with large snow boulders and a set of strange x’s drawn into the snow, colored blue to show their importance. There was a sign hammered in front of them, and a quick glance read; turn every x into an o. Then press the switch.

          Papyrus was already doing just that, still talking excitedly, “SPAGHETTI HAPPENS TO BE A LONG STANDING FAVORITE OF MINE! I KNOW ANY HUMAN WHO FINDS IT WON’T BE ABLE TO RESIST!”

          “You think so?” Teddie asked, watching as the spikes sank into the ground as the tall skeleton stepped on a raised switch.

          “I KNOW SO!” Papyrus replied with confidence, “THEY’D HAVE TO HAVE A WILL OF STEEL TO RESIST MY CULINARY TEMPTATIONS! OR NO TASTEBUDS! OR BOTH!”

          Well, he was definitely assured of that success, he’ll give him that. And at least it wasn’t anything nefarious, like poison. He hoped . . . oooooh . . .

          “BUT I AM CURIOUS,” Papyrus added, stepping over the holes where the spikes had been and distracting Teddie from his thoughts, “HOW DID YOU RESIST, COMRADE?”

          Well, it smelled funny, but Teddie couldn’t say that to him. But maybe he could settle for a something else instead, “Well, I . . . I thought it was for someone else, so I thought I should leave it alone. The paper said very clearly for any humans to try it! And I’m not a human, you know, so . . . hehe.”

Papyrus nodded, “YES, YES, THAT IS WHAT MY NOTE CLEARLY STATED. VERY KEEN FORESIGHT YOU HAVE, MY COMRADE!”

Teddie smiled, enjoying the praise like he always did. Then, as an afterthought, he added, “Besides, I don’t think I’ve ever had it before, actually.”

          Papyrus did a full heel stop and spun around so fast it was a wonder his head wasn’t still spinning, looking well and truly aghast, “WHAT?! YOU’VE NEVER PARTAKEN IN THE JOY THAT IS THE RICH, FLAVORFUL WONDER OF SPAGHETTI?! HOW TERRIBLE!” a gleam of resolve entered the skeleton’s eyes, nodding once in affirmation to himself as he placed a hand over his chest, like a soldier’s salute, “NEVER FEAR, NEW ACQUAINTANCE! JUST AS WITH JUNIOR JUMBLE, I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, SHALL AMMEND THIS AS SOON AS WE ARE DONE HERE!”

          Teddie held up his paws, torn between laughing and feeling embarrassed by the skeleton’s display. The skeleton might be nice, but he was on a mission, and he didn’t know if he wanted to try any spaghetti down here, “Uh, thanks, Papyrus, but you really don’t have to! I’m a resourceful bear, I can make food on my own!”

          He expected the skeleton to back down after his refusal, maybe be a little disappointed. What Teddie didn’t expect was the way the skeleton’s shoulders drooped and, for a second, how his face is left unguarded and Teddie can see an expression in his sockets that stirs sympathy in his heart, because it looks like how he used to look when he had been lonely. It’s gone in moments, so fast Teddie isn’t sure if Papyrus even noticed the feeling, but he’d seen it. And now that he’d seen it, he couldn’t possibly forget it.

          “WELL, I SUPPOSE THAT WAS A LITTLE PRESUMPTIOUS OF ME. WE HAVE JUST MET AFTER ALL! BUT IF YOU EVER CHANGE YOUR MIND AND WISH TO DABBLE IN FINE CUISINE, JUST LET ME KNOW!” Papyrus is back to smiling, oozing that confidence again, but now there’s something sympathetic there too. How many times had he done it himself to pretend everything was fine?

          “LET’S MOVE ON, SHALL WE? THERE’S MUCH MORE TO DO BEFORE WE ARRIVE IN SNOWDIN!” Papyrus has turned around again, marching off like he always did.

          Without thinking, he called out, “W-wait!”

          The skeleton stops with one leg still extended, arms up and frozen in mid-walk. Papyrus cranes his neck over his shoulder, looking back with a raised brow, “YES, NEW ACQUAINTANCE?”

          Teddie tapped his paws together, digging one foot self-consciously in the snow, “W-well, uh . . . I am actually getting a little hungry. And I’ve never tried spaghetti before! So, uh . . . maybe we could . . . stop for lunch?”

          He didn’t even know if it was lunch time yet, but he didn’t think it really mattered, because the sheer jubilation that entered Papyrus’ eyes is blinding.

          “REALLY? I-I MEAN, OF COURSE YOU WISH TO TRY IT! MY SPAGHETTI IS THE BEST, AFTER ALL!” Papyrus then pressed his hands to his bony cheeks, sockets somehow sparkling and almost breathless with excitement, “WOWIE! THIS IS SO EXCITING! I PROMISE, THIS’LL BE AN EXPERIENCE YOU’LL NEVER FORGET! COME, COME, RIGHT THIS WAY!”

          Well, Teddie didn’t doubt him on that point. Papyrus practically bounded like an ecstatic puppy over the snow, pausing only once when they came to his next puzzle, a more elaborate version of the one they’d just passed. With a grin, the skeleton reached up behind a nearby tree and pulled a hidden lever, deactivating the spikes, “WE CAN RECALIBRATE THIS PUZZLE ONCE WE HAVE SUFFICIENTLY REFUELED OURSELVES!”

          The skeleton trotted on with a sprightly spring in his step, breezing past Sans, who was . . . just standing on the other side, looking as relaxed as he always did.

          “Well, you sure put my bro in a good mood,” Sans commented, one eye open and lazily following his brother, “Not often we get visitors, ya know?”

          No, he didn’t know, but . . . that was kind of sad. One would think someone like Papyrus would have lots of visitors.

          “We’re going to eat spaghetti,” Teddie said, hoping small talk would suffice for now.

          “Yup, that’s my bro’s specialty,” Sans replied, grin widening, “That spaghetti he made back there, well, that wasn’t too bad for him. He’s been taking cooking lessons lately, and he’s been improving a lot. It’ll be good.”

          He didn’t know if Sans means good as in ‘tasty’ or good as in ‘funny’, but Teddie guessed there wasn’t much he could do about it now. He’d already volunteered himself for this . . .

          “Oh, and uh, thanks for makin’ Papyrus’ day. I appreciate it,” the tone of Sans’ voice is still fairly nonchalant, but Teddie is pretty sure he can hear a little bit of earnestness in it, too.

          “Uh . . . you’re welcome!” he responded, nodding.

          “COMRADE, WHY HAVE YOU STOPPED? WE STILL HAVE SOME DISTANCE TO COVER BEFORE WE GET TO SNOWDIN AND MY HOUSE-,” Teddie watches as Papyrus hands fly to his head, letting loose an overdramatic but excited gasp, ‘whispering’ but still loud enough for Teddie to hear the near disbelief in the skeleton’s voice, “I’LL GET TO SHOW YOU MY HOUSE!”

          The skeleton all but twirls after he’s spoken, and he’s off again, so fast Teddie has honest trouble keeping up.

          Behind him, back where he can no longer see, Sans vanished.

(----)

          The snow grabbed at Frisk’s feet as they ran, and they nearly stumble for the seventh time that day. They don’t let it pull them down, however, kicking through it and pushing on. Their thighs are burning, overexerted, but still they push themselves to run, because who knows how long it’s been, how long Flowey has had to toy with Teddie.

          Stupid, I’m so stupid! They think, wanting to kick themselves again for their idiocy.

          You’re right, you are stupid.

          Frisk swats the voice away, gritting their teeth and pushing on into the dense, snow-covered forest of the Underground. They are in no mood for Chara or their cruel jibes.

          Well, too bad, Chara’s response is snide, You’re stuck with me.

          All around, the shadows seem to lengthen and chase after their heels, and Frisk is acutely aware of every twig and every leaf that moves or makes noise. Their heart is pounding every time they see a shadow they think could be a monster, and sweat is running down their back despite the chill the frost brings. Thank god Teddie’s tracks are still visible in the snow, although the disconcerting signs of a second pair has them on edge. But Teddie shouldn’t be in any danger from him. The other human hadn’t done anything wrong.

          They’ve passed the old outpost and Doggo already, rounding a bend into the familiar fork in the road they’d seen so many times before. The chest is there, the sign, the gentle whooshing the nearby river . . . it’s all so invitingly nostalgic, Frisk’s heart pangs.

          They can’t stay here for long. They can’t stay here at all. They’d given up that right a long time ago.

          You really think you can just go back and forget all of this happened, don’t you? Chara almost sounded wondering, like they could not fathom how Frisk thought this.

          But they did. They could just go back. It wasn’t too late. They couldn’t be too late.

          And what will you do about, Flowey, hm? Frisk hears the grin in the malevolent spirit’s voice, Cut him down like you did the first time we escaped? You know you have it in you.

          It’s a cruel, vindictive stab at Frisk, and they feel the guilt gnaw at their insides even though they know it’s what the spirit wants.

          I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it, they replied, teeth gritted.

          Quickly, Frisk dug around inside the chest and finds that Teddie hadn’t looted it before them, thankfully. Everything is still there as it always was every reset. Quickly, they tie the bandana in place, securing it tight to their head and feeling a little relieved at the sense of security it brought.

          They couldn’t pause for long, though. Time was of the essence, and they had to keep moving.

          Turning around, they make to continue their dash through the underground-

          -only to slam into something hard that hadn’t been there a few moments before.

          Frisk landed in the snow with a soft thud, the back of their head cracking harshly against the chest. It’s painful, and they’re seeing stars by the time they’re able to tease their eyes open, but thankfully it didn’t knock them unconscious.

          The shadow standing in front of them, however, just might, because as soon as they see it, Frisk felt their heart start to quake.

          “Hey there, pal,” Sans said, looking down at them from where he stood. He’s grinning as he always does, but the shadows of the trees cut across his face and make it look menacing, and Frisk swears that there’s just the faintest hint of blue where the white pip of his right eye should be, “Don’t suppose you’re willin’ to tell me what a human like yourself is doin’ in these neck of the woods, huh?”

          Nothing comes out of their mouth when they open it, but Frisk thought they could hear an echo in the trees, a whisper carried on the leaves, and whether it’s real or a delusion, they can only shiver when they hear it.

          If you’re really my friend, then don’t come back.

Chapter Text

          Frisk shivered, eyes blown wide and head throbbing with both pain and dismay. In their head, Chara was silent.

          They should have known this would happen. They should have known they wouldn’t escape the mysterious skeleton’s sights. And now here he was, and Frisk is sure he remembers, is almost positive, because why else would he be here except to exact a right and justified revenge?

          Frisk broke their promise . . .

          Sans didn’t make a move towards them, though, just remained where he stood, snow collecting on his shoulders. It’s almost like he was waiting for a reply, but Frisk is too scared, too full of dread, to respond to Sans’ inquiry.

          After a long stretch of silence broken only by Frisk’s tight, terrified breathing, Sans blinked, “Not much of a talker, are ya? I mean, you are a human, right? Never actually seen one before, so maybe I’m just assumin’ things.”

          The dialogue is similar to what Frisk has heard before, but it did nothing to alleviate their anxiety. Shivering still, they lowered their eyes to the ground, pulling their knees close to their chest as if that flimsy barrier would somehow protect them from Sans wrath. Because he’s wrathful, right? How could he not be?

          But Sans’ only chuckled, “Come on, no need to freeze up like that, ya know?  Just askin’ a really simple question.”

          It was said very plainly, but Frisk felt like there was a threat somewhere unseen, and they knew then they needed to say something. Sitting a little straighter, and after a hard, nervous swallow, they finally managed to eke out a forced, if slightly muffled, “I’m . . . looking for someone.”

          “Eh? Really? Who could a human be lookin’ for down here?” Sans asked, but his grin made it hard to tell if he was being serious or not.

          But Frisk remembered the pair of footprints beside Teddie’s own, and they’re almost certain Sans had already met their wayward friend. And Frisk, not wanting to put the other danger by admitting to their connection, quietly replied with a small, noncommittal shrug.

          “Oh? Well, if that’s the case, guess I can’t force ya to tell me,” Sans said in response, “But, uh, once you find this person . . . what do ya plan to do?”

          Its probing. Searching. And Frisk froze again, because the nature of it only cements their belief even more that Sans knows. And hasn’t forgiven, either.

          But then, Sans carried on talking, like Frisk wasn’t even there, “Ah, but, what do I care, huh? That’s my brother’s job.”

          The skeleton suddenly reached out with a hand, and Frisk squeezed their eyes shut, expecting a blow. When nothing came, however, they slowly reopened them, to find that the other was simply . . . extending their hand.

          “Well, you wanna get up? Not that I blame ya if you don’t. When you’re lazy like me, anywhere’s comfortable,” Sans said, and Frisk wanted to say he almost sounded amicable.

          They gave his hand a very nervous glance, and while a part of them yearned to take it, to show him how sorry they were and how much they wanted to be his friend again . . . they hadn’t earned that right. So instead, Frisk clambered back to their feet on their own, head bowed and shoulders stooped.

          The curve of Sans right brow lifting slightly, the skeleton withdrew his hand, “Alrighty. Have it your way. But . . . you’re missin’ out on a great gag.”

          Frisk said nothing. They couldn’t.

          “Aaanyway . . . if you’re lookin’ for someone, best bet is Snowdin,” Sans eventually said in lieu of Frisk responding, scratching at his jaw, “Good luck. And uh, keep an eye out for my brother. He’s all over catching a human like you.”

          Oh, Papyrus . . . he’d still be alive, as kind and full of hope as ever. How much danger was he now, though, with them here? The answer, Frisk knew, was ‘far too much’.

          “Well . . . guess I’ll be seein’ ya around, huh?”

          Frisk looked up at Sans, and they imagine they can hear the disappointment breathed behind every one of the skeleton’s words. Ashamed, they look away again, fingers fisting into the hem of their sweater as they wait for the other to leave.

          There was no crunch of the snow underfoot, no dramatic gust of magic . . . but in the place where the skeleton stood comes a sudden empty sensation, and when they look up, Sans is gone, like he was never there at all.

          Frisk knew better than to relax. But even still, their shoulders sag with relief, no longer feeling quite so strained under the weight of Sans’ gaze.

          Tch, comes the harsh and unwanted voice, crawling out of the shadow they had hidden in, couldn’t even try to finish the job. Guess you lucked out.

          Frisk glowers at the open air, then shook their head. No, they needed to get moving. They had to find Teddie. And then they could-

          You really still believe that, don’t you? It was said with less vitriol than normal, a softness one could almost mistake for pity. Frisk knew it wasn’t, because Chara was not the pitiable sort. It was just another flavor of condescension.

          Frisk did not bother answering. Instead, they clutch their trusty stick tight and carry on.

(----)

          “AH, HERE WE ARE! SNOWDIN TOWN! WELL, COMRADE, WHAT DO YOU THINK?”

          What did he think? Teddie thought it was beautiful! Like a little Christmas town straight from a movie! Every house was covered in snow, their bright lights casting sparkles across the frost, with icicles hanging from their roofs and soft whorls of ice collected across their windowsills. He thought he could even see a large pine tree right at the heart of town, all done up in Christmas lights and ornaments with a glorious star crowning the tip. Monsters walked about, some in groups and others alone, bunnies and dogs and a bear and others he couldn’t even begin to figure out!

          “It’s awesome . . .” Teddie replied, stars in his eyes.

          Papyrus beamed, “I KNEW YOU WOULD LIKE IT! AND WITH AN EXCELLENT TOUR GUIDE LIKE ME, WE WILL PARTAKE OF SNOWDIN’S MANY WONDERS!”

          And how many wonders indeed! There was a cute little shop (who’s owner tried to sell him a bandana), a hotel (called Snowed-In Inn, and that made him laugh), all sorts of little homes . . . and everyone was so nice. And they tell him funny stories or lessons or even a little joke every now and again. Some were funny, some were a little strange, but never once did Teddie feel threatened or scared. It . . . really made it hard to believe that any of them would hurt somebody, human or not.

          Papyrus was nothing if not thorough in explaining every building, its purpose, and its history too. He must have lived here all his life, to know so much.

          “AND HERE IS OUR TREE!” The skeleton cried, gesticulating to the towering pine tree in the town’s center, “NOW, WHILE EVERYONE KNOWS THAT SANTA IS THE ULTIMATE GIFT-GIVER, WE MONSTERS OF SNOWDIN HAVE TAKEN IT UPON OURSELVES TO HONOR THAT SPIRIT NO MATTER WHAT TIME OF YEAR IT IS! I SHOULD KNOW, I HAPPEN TO BE THE BEST GIFT-GIVER AROUND!”

          “Oh, I know about Santa! Sensei told me about him!” Teddie said, pleased that he knew something about what the other was talking about. Who knew monsters had a Santa, too!

          “THEN YOUR ‘SENSEI’ IS A VERY KNOWLEDGABLE INDIVIDUAL!” Papyrus paused, arms akimbo and still giving off that bright, skull-y grin. Then, “WHAT IS A SENSEI?”

          “Not a ‘what’, a ‘who’!” Teddie explained, finding Papyrus’ confusion a little funny, “Sensei’s my, well, my teacher! He taught me everything I know, and he’s really kind, and smart, and . . . considerate and . . . he’s . . .”

          Teddie can’t really explain the sudden morose feeling that welled up inside him as he spoke, just that’s its bitter and cold and very unwelcome.

          Papyrus stared at him, brow pinching just slightly in confusion, “COMRADE? IS SOMETHING THE MATTER?”

          Teddie shook his head, putting on a smile for show, “N-no, I just was saying . . . he’s the best! Yeah . . .”

          “OH, WELL, GOOD! SOMEONE LIKE THAT SOUNDS LIKE THEY WOULD MAKE A GREAT RIVAL FOR THE GREAT PAPYRUS! NYEH-HEH-HEH!” The skeleton hollered exuberantly, “COME COMRADE! THERE’S STILL MUCH TO SEE!”

          Papyrus moved on, and privately Teddie is a little grateful he didn’t continue to ask about Sensei. Huh, how strange . . . once there was a time the bear could have sung his praises all day and all night. Now though . . .

          Teddie shook his head. He didn’t want to think about it.

          Papyrus was ahead of him now, waving at a gaggle of monsters that passed them by. Most responded with a wave of their own, a few giving Teddie a curious glance as they passed, when one suddenly broke away, running to Papyrus with a spring in their step. They looked like a little dinosaur, almost, running fast on scaly little legs and kicking up tufts of snow in the process. A cute striped wool sweater was pulled over the little monster’s body, armless because, well . . . they didn’t seem to have arms at all!

          “Yo, you there, have-whoa!” the little monster’s foot caught on something in the snow, and suddenly they were crashing on to their face with nothing to break their fall.

          “Oh! Oh!” Teddie started forward, coming to the little monster’s aid in a rush, “Are you okay?”

          Before he can reach down to help pick them up, the monster sprang upright with ease, hopping up and down and around with boundless energy and beaming at him, completely unhurt, “Ah, I’m fine! Happens all the time!”

          “AH, HELLO KID!” Papyrus said, still standing proudly from the side and grinning.

          “Hey, Papyrus!” the monster, Kid, he guessed, responded, “Have you seen Undyne today?”

          Undyne? That’s a name he hasn’t heard of before.

          “NOT TODAY! I’VE HAD MY HANDS FULL WITH MY NEW COMRADE MANAGING OUR PUZZLES!” Papyrus said, gesturing to Teddie.

           Kid nodded enthusiastically, still bouncing up and down, “Ooooh, I get it! Well, if ya do, could ya let me know? I wanna see her!”

           “WELL, I SUPPOSE! UNDYNE IS A VERY BUSY LADY, THOUGH!” the skeleton told the little dinosaur, rubbing a gloved hand along his chin.

           Oooh, a lady? He wondered what kind . . .

           Kid nodded again, this time actually pausing long enough to dig the toes of his feet into the ground with a sudden flare of bashfulness, “Yeah, I know. She’s a hero! And she’s . . . really cool . . .”

          A cool hero lady at that?! Hrm, sounded just like his type!

          However, he noticed that at the word ‘cool’ and the starstruck look in Kid’s eyes, the way Papyrus shuffled on his feet and didn’t reply. Teddie wasn’t sure if it was intentional or not, or if how maybe he just imagined the look on Papyrus’ face. Huh . . .

          The adoration in Kid’s eyes soon simmered down, and when it did, the monster peered a little closer at Teddie, face brimming with curiosity, “Yo, I’ve never seen you around here before! But ya got a stripe on ya, so you must be a kid like me too!”

          He was a little puzzled by the monster’s words. A stripe? Was he talking about his zipper? All the same, Teddie puffed up his chest to make himself look bigger, “Well, what a silly assumption! As you can clearly see, I am one-hundred percent a manly, if loveable, bear who makes any lady who sees him swoon!”

          Kid, an actual ‘kid’ he guessed, chuckled, “Nah, you’re a kid. And a bear? You don’t look like a bear.”

          Teddie gave an overdramatic gasp of outrage, placing a hand over his chest, “How beary rude! Of course I’m a bear! Can’t you see this adorable fur? These fearsome claws?!”

          The other just laughed, clearly finding this to be a game of some sort and looking delighted by it, “Yo, you’re funny! I like you!”

           Well, if that didn’t just trip him up and make his fur all tingly with happiness. Ah, praises, his weakness!

          “A-ah, well, of course! Humor is this little bear’s forte, after all!” he said, cheeks going a bit red but preening under the praise.

          “Hahaha!” Kid laughed, smiling, “Yo, if you’re gonna stick around, maybe we can meet Undyne together! That would be cool! Anyway, later!”

           Before he could ask Kid to clarify who, exactly, that was outside of a hero monster lady, the little guy turned and blitzed away. They tripped and face-planted one last time, but shrugged it off and hopped back up like nothing happened, taking off with no less verve in their steps.

          “AH, STILL AS ADVENTEROUS AS EVER!” Papyrus commented when the monster left, “WELL, LET US BE OFF!”

           The skeleton led the way opposite of where Kid had gone, leading him up the path past a rather large brown building with big orange letters at the top that said ‘Grillby’. And, to be honest, Teddie might have paid it no more mind past the bright neon sign if the smell of something pos-i-tive-ly delicious hadn’t wafted by.

          “Oooh,” he hummed, automatically gravitating towards it to chase after that yummy smell. He’d packed a little food for himself for his journey, of course, but hot, fresh food? Oh, how could he pass that up? As he grew closer, he could hear the sounds of voices inside, talking and laughing and making merry amidst an environment that was inviting and warm.

          He’d gotten to the door and was about to push it open when a sudden hand appeared on his shoulder, stopping him. At the same time, Papyrus’ voice yelled right in his ear, “NO COMRADE! THIS PLACE IS A DEN OF UNHEALTHY FILTH! DO NOT GO INSIDE!”

          “W-what? B-but it smells so good!” Teddie protested, nose twitching at the delectable smells of cooking meat and fried grease. Ooh, he was really hungry now!

          “IT MIGHT HAVE SCENTS MOST TANTALIZING, BUT I ASSURE YOU, IT IS A MOST DECEPTIVE LIE! YOU CANNOT FALL FOR ITS GREASY TRICKS LIKE MY BROTHER HAS! COME, I HAVE A MUCH BETTER ALTERNATIVE!” Papyrus began to tug him along after him, and Teddie gave the bar a long and forlorn look when it became clear that the skeleton wasn’t going to let him go back. Oh delicious food, parting is such sweet sorrow . . .

          Teddie was a little quieter after that, torn away as he had been from such delectable smells. When they passed the library, however, the skeleton did pause to begin reciting its history, as he had faithfully done since entering Snowdin. Paused as they were, Teddie noticed that the library’s name had been amusingly changed to ‘Librarby’.

          “AH, AND THIS IS OUR LIBRARY! BOOKS ARE HARD TO COME BY IN THE UNDERGROUND, SO ITS ALWAYS GOOD TO HAVE AN ASSORTMENT HANDY! THEY HAVE A SPLENDID COLLECTION OF JUNIOR JUMBLE PAMPHLETS INSIDE TOO!”

          “Uh-huh,” Teddie hummed, half-listening. Inside, he was wondering what kind of other books they had on their shelves. Did they have any like Toriel’s?

          “OH, I KNOW! LET US GRAB A FEW, SINCE I STILL NEED TO INTRODUCE YOU TO THE MOST INTELLECTUALLY STIMULATING WORD SCRAMBLE THE UNDERGROUND HAS TO OFFER!” Papyrus suddenly said, ushering the bear inside.

         Within was warm, with surprisingly soft lighting and carpeted wooden floors. Rows of shelves lined the back filled with all kinds of books, old and new, and Papyrus had already wandered off among them to gather his pamphlets. The air was rife with the smells of ink and aged paper, a little strong, but not bad. There were only three monsters inside besides himself and Papyrus, one managing the desk while the other two were seated at the only table in the building, both in the process of writing something. The way they were dressed though . . . they might be ladies! And monster or not, you never ignore a lady!

         “Helloooo!~” he said cheerily, waving and putting on his best charming voice, “What might you lovely ladies be doing?”

          It got their attention, one looking a mite bored while the other looked sleepy, eyes already half-closed.

         “Hey, hun,” the one with the heavy set of curls on her head said, tapping her pencil against the table, “Just doin’ a little writing.”

         “We work for the newspaper,” the sleepy-eyed one explained, “Although, there’s never really much to report.”

          “Ooooh, so you’re writers!”

          The bored one shrugged, “Close enough.”

          With a cheeky grin, Teddie said, “Sooo, if we got together, you could say we could write a whole new chapter on our lives!”

          At that, both gave a burst of laughter. It’s not condescending or mean, just amused, and Teddie took joy in that. Even the lady behind the desk chuckled!

          From somewhere within the rows of books, he heard Papyrus give a very loud cry, “NOOO, SANS HAS CORRUPTED YOU! AND NOW YOU’RE SPREADING IT!”

          “Oh, it ain’t no bother, Papyrus,” the curly-haired one shouted back, smiling, “I needed that laugh anyway.”

          “We should probably finish this though. We’ve been lazy . . .” the sleepy one said, giving the page in front of her a sour look.

          “Thanks for the joke, hun,” the curly-haired one said, “Take a look at some of the books before ya go. Might find one you like.”

          “Okie-dokie!” he said, doing as the lady said. Teddie wandered along the rows, looking at the different books. Some were short little fiction novels, story books, cartoon books, and . . . oh, a history book! Teddie snagged that, eager to know more about the monsters who lived here, and their stories. Every bit helped! Nothing else seemed to be particularly interesting, though . . .

          He was about to walk out front with his new prize when another book caught his eye, a book with a very bright red cover and a binding that looked somehow pristine amidst all the other used ones. Curious, he pulled it out, examining the top; Magic and SOULS.

          SOULS . . . hm, that got him thinking. He knew it was a long shot, but if this book had more information on such things . . . maybe he could find something about . . . why his SOUL was the way it was?

         Quietly setting his other book down sideways along the shelf beside him, he flicked the other book open, finding himself on a random page;

         Because they are made of magic, monsters’ bodies are attuned to their SOUL. If a monster doesn’t want to fight, its defenses will weaken.

         Oh, Toriel had told him something like this once before. How your health was reflected in your SOUL, and how monsters were really, really sensitive to that sort of thing. But fighting? Toriel had only mentioned how to avoid that. And she hadn’t said anything about how if a monster didn’t want to fight, they’d . . . get weaker.

          As he thought about his old lessons, his eyes wandered over to the next line.

          And the crueler the intention of our enemies, the more their attacks will hurt us.

         . . .

         Therefore, if a being with a powerful SOUL struck with the desire to kill . . . they’d kill everyone here. There would be nowhere to run, no mercy at all. Such a being would be almost unstoppable. And soon, they would slaughter everything, everyone, and leave nothing but dust behind/%^F*&H@#-

         The words seemed to jerk and distort, and Teddie started hard in fright, nearly dropping the book in his hands. Fur now standing completely on end, he went back and reread that part, alarmed and freaked out. But . . . but . . .

         Um, let’s end the chapter here . . .

         That . . . that wasn’t . . . what it had said . . .

         But those words were all that was there.

         Deeply unnerved and suddenly feeling very unsettled, Teddie closed the book and quickly put it back with shaky paws. The air felt heavier all of a sudden, harder to breathe, and he couldn’t make his fur lie flat at all, no matter what he did, even as he went up to the desk lady with the history book in his hands.

         “You checkin’ that out, sweetheart?”

          He nodded quietly, glancing around warily even though nothing was there. Sometimes, he’d catch sight of where the book was, sitting innocuously on its shelf among all the others, looking no different from the rest. Had it . . . just been his imagination?

          “WELL, I HAVE WHAT WE NEED! ARE YOU READY TO MOVE ON, COMRADE?” Papyrus asked, pamphlets tucked under one bony arm as the lady handed back his book. Teddie nodded again, shivering a little and wanting to be out of the suddenly deathly quiet library. Wow, if ever there was a time to be grateful for Papyrus’ volume . . .

           The skeleton seemed to notice his change in attitude, for the curve above his right socket rose, looking just a touch concerned, “MY, YOU LOOK VERY . . . FLOOFY! ARE YOU FEELING ALRIGHT?”

           “U-um . . .” Teddie didn’t know what to say. Would Papyrus even believe him? Probably not.

           Then, all of a sudden and without waiting for Teddie to speak up, Papyrus dropped a hand on his head, grinning again, “DON’T YOU WORRY, COMRADE! I HAVE JUST THE THING TO PERK YOU UP! TO MY HOUSE WE GO!”

           The skeleton ushered him out again, but this time it didn’t feel as rushed or as forceful. And outside, in the clean, cold, crisp air that smelled of snow and frost and a hint of pine, Teddie felt he could breathe just a little easier. Already, his fur was flattening back to normal, his hands and legs not so shaky anymore. Huh, maybe he had just imagined it . . .

           He had to have just imagined it.

           The skeleton tromped on ahead, with more purpose in his steps than before, it looked like. Teddie followed, keeping his book tucked close. He would read it . . . but the urge had sort of left him now. He didn’t know what could have made him imagine what he’d seen . . . maybe it was his hunger. Hunger makes you see things, after all! And he was tired. And still a little sad about departing the Ruins. A cocktail of things that could make a little bear hallucinate words on a page.

           Still, hallucination or not . . . what he had read bothered him a little. How true could such a thing be? Teddie would like to think ‘not at all’. The monsters weren’t aggressive or angry, and besides, there was nothing down here that could do that.

           Those thoughts reassured him that he was just being silly. His friends would have even teased him about it, for sure!

           Not paying attention to where he was going like he was, he nearly head-butted Papyrus’ back when the skeleton at last stopped, and when Teddie looked up to see why he had, it’s to find that they now stood in front of a house.

          It was a cute house, and a fairly big one too, with two stories and lights done up around the wooden poles supporting the snow-covered portico above the door. A cute little green laurel hanged on the door frame, like the way those nice moms liked to decorate their houses at Christmas time. It looked cozy, and safe, exactly the kind of home Teddie could imagine would keep you warm in cold, snowy winters.

          “HERE WE ARE! HOME SWEET HOME!” Papyrus shouted, and there’s a kick in his step that betrayed how excited he was as he swung the front door open, “COME INSIDE! THERE IS MUCH TO SHOW YOU!”

          The skeleton swept into the home with all the force of a blizzard, his voice fading with distance but no less understandable with its sheer volume, “WOWY, THIS IS SO EXCITING!”

           Politely scraping off his feet on the mat outside (Yosuke always got on his case when he didn’t), Teddie stepped within and perked up a little at what he saw inside. It was simple living room area, with a couch, a table (with a . . . rock on it?), and even a tv! He didn’t even know the underground had tvs! Across the table, stairs led up to a second-floor walkway where two closed doors could just be made out, and directly across from him was a small opening that led to an even smaller kitchen area. It was more humble, true . . . but at the same time, it was very homey too!

           “TAA-DAAAA!” Papyrus shouted, arms outstretched to show off the interior and looking proud while he did it, “WHAT DO YOU THINK?”

           Teddie stepped inside a little more, closing the door behind him so all the warm air didn’t escape, looking around at everything with interest, “I think it’s nice!”

           At least, that was all he had said. But you’d think he’d said it was the grandest, most amazing, most incredible mansion house in the entire world with the way Papyrus’ sockets grew in delight, sparkling somehow even without actual eyes in them.

           “OH, THANK YOU! I SPEND A GREAT DEAL OF TIME TAKING CARE OF IT, SINCE SANS WON’T, SO IT’S AS GREAT AS ME! PERSONAL UPKEEP IS VERY IMPROTANT, YOU KNOW,” Papyrus said, and it looked like he was vibrating with barely contained energy. He shook some of it out by waving his hands in Teddie’s direction, urging, “GO ON, YOU CAN LOOK AROUND! AND THEN, I’LL MAKE LUNCH!”

          Curiosity niggling at him, Teddie walked over to the table wit the rock, peering at it with interest. Was it . . . covered in sprinkles?

          An inquisitive little sniff and the smell of sugar informed him that, yes, it absolutely was.

          “AH, THAT IS MY BROTHER’S PET ROCK!” Papyrus explained, like it was normal to have a pet rock. Was it normal to have pet rock? Teddie had never considered it before, “HE ALWAYS FORGETS TO FEED IT! AS USUAL, I HAVE TO TAKE RESPONSIBILITY!”

          Huh . . . he wondered if Yosuke would let him have a pet rock. He’d never let him have a pet anything-else!

          You’re enough of a pet as it is! The older boy had told him once, exasperated beyond reason like usual. Still . . . Teddie found he sort of missed it.

          The smell of sugar teased his nose again, and all of a sudden, his stomach gave a very loud rumble of discontent. Pressing his paws against it, he felt a slight flush of embarrassment as he turned to Papyrus, cheeks glowing, “Ehehehe . . . guess I’m hungry?”

          Papyrus didn’t appear put off by it. In fact, a gleam of resolve had suddenly entered his sockets, “AH, INDEED YOU ARE! NEVER FEAR, I HAVE JUST THE THING TO SOLVE IT!”

          With that, he bounded into he kitchen, and Teddie heard a great deal of clattering as he crept over as well, peering inside. Papyrus was moving around, pulling out several saucepans of varying sizes and scattering ingredients from the fridge along the countertop. Behind him, something very tall towered above, a long cabinet door stretched over its front with the top possibly being a . . . sink?

          “Sooo . . . what are you making?” Teddie asked, inquisitively creeping closer.

          “SPAGHETTI, OF COURSE!” Papyrus said, tying an apron around himself with a twist and a flourish that made the bear giggle, “ONLY MY VERY BEST!”

          The skeleton turned a burner on the stove on before filling the pot with water, which he then placed on the open flames. Toriel had a stove top like that too, but she always used her own magic to light it, the flames warm and gentle and always under her control. As he watched Papyrus upend a packet of noodles onto the counter as he waited for the water to boil, Teddie couldn’t help but imagine the kind goat lady in his place. Would she be making food now too? Would she and Frisk-chan be sitting at the table together, doing their best to ignore the space he had left behind in her home? He wondered . . .

          Papyrus loud voice broke the spell, though, the skeleton going to stand before his arranged vegetables and rolling his shoulder out for some reason, like he was prepping for some brawl, “DO STAND BACK, COMRADE! THIS BIT OF THE PROCESS CAN GET RATHER MESSY!”

          “Huh? Whadya mean ‘get me’-WAH!” his cry of surprise was nearly lost within the din of Papyrus suddenly and inexplicably slamming his fists again and again into the vegetables in front of him, pots and plates and cutlery jostling with every furious smash of the skeleton’s hands until it felt like the whole room was shaking! Bits of mashed vegetable and tomato juice flew everywhere, on the ceiling, the walls, the countertop, some even splashing dangerously close to Teddie’s fur, which was just all sorts of no! And still, the skeleton just kept going, fists flying like a jackhammer, and the only thing Teddie was able to do was look on in horror! It felt like Papyrus didn’t stop smashing the poor, innocent pile for a reeeeally long time, but when he did and finally stood back, stained hands braced on his hips, its to a pile of mush that barely resembled the things they once were, “THERE WE GO! PERFECT!”

          He glanced at Teddie, who’s jaw had dropped and eyes had blown wide, looking inexorably proud of himself, “THIS WILL BE THE SAUCE! IT’LL BE DONE IN A JIFF!”

          Even with his limited knowledge of cooking, Teddie felt like that was not how sauce was made. But as Papyrus carefully scraped the goo into the other empty saucepot, looking happy and content with his efforts, Teddie didn’t know if he should say anything. He knew he’d done lots of things wrong before in the past, much as he’d receive an earful for it, but he’d had fun doing it! And besides, the only reason Papyrus was working at all was to feed him, when he didn’t have to at all.

          Still . . . he doesn’t really wanna be in the splash zone anymore . . .

          “I’ll, uh . . . go out here,” he said, backing up around the corner.

          “VERY WELL! I SHALL BE DONE SOON! AND THEN WE SHALL FEAST OVER A GOOD PUZZLE OF JUNIOR JUMBLE!” Papyrus sounded so very excited about that, practically glowing as he stirred the noodle pot with gusto.

          “Okay!” Teddie said, hoping back out into the living room. Hm, the couch looked comfy to sit on, and he wondered what the underground had for channels on the tv!

           Hm, the tv . . .

           Teddie wandered over to it, giving it a perusing stare. It was very wide and spacious . . . currently turned off, too. It was . . . big enough for him to go through, if he wanted.

           But would it be safe? Would it even take him to the other side? Toriel had not had one, so he’d never had a chance to try. He didn’t even know monsters had tvs in the first place, but if they did . . .

          Well, there was only one way to find out!

          Taking a bolstering breath, the bear leaned forward and slowly, carefully, placed a paw against the screen.

          Familiar ripples fanned out from under it, and Teddie is surprised by how surprised he is that it worked! It felt like nothing had really just worked in a while! Gleeful, he pushed forward a little more, paw sinking just a little deeper. Testing the waters, so to speak.

          Bzt-!

          Aaaand like the universe had been listening and had been feeling particularly vindictive right then, the ripples around his hand suddenly twisted around themselves in sharp, jerking patterns, and electricity rose up around his paw. Pain lanced up his arm, and Teddie jerked back with a cry, shaking it out and blowing on it as he hopped up and down, “Ouch ow owowowowOW!”

         Why had that happened? He’s never had trouble entering a tv before!

         Still shaking his paw, Teddie gave the tv a wary glance. It was completely back to normal, like nothing had happened . . . but Teddie didn’t really want to try that again. Was it because of where he was? Were monster tvs just different from human ones? No, it looked like it had been about to work before! Hmmm . . . this could be claws for alarm. If he couldn’t get inside his world here, he REALLY didn’t have a way out except the gate!

         “COMRADE?” Papyrus asked from the kitchen sounding concerned, “ARE YOU ALRIGHT?”

          Teddie looked at the archway, standing straighter on reflex and hoping he didn’t sound too suspicious, “U-uh, yep, totally fine! One hundred percent, A-Okay!”

          Papyrus continued, sounding a little puzzled, “ALRIGHT, WELL, IF YOU SAY SO! WITH THAT SAID-!”

          The skeleton suddenly swung out into the open, apron a mess of red but grinning proudly as he held up the two plates of steaming spaghetti for him to see . . . while, also balancing one on his head, for some reason. Rather perfectly, somehow, too, “TA-DA!”

          Teddie took an experimental whiff. Hm . . . it didn’t smell gross. Very . . . tomato and garlic, but those things weren’t too bad!

          “NOW, COME!” Papyrus said, spinning around and dangerously rocking the plate on his head as he did so, though miraculously it didn’t fall as the skeleton made his way over to the couch.

          “You’re going to eat on the couch?” Teddie asked, a little in awe. It was rare when he was allowed to eat anywhere that wasn’t the dining room table at home. That was rule that had followed him even in Toriel’s house, too.

           Papyrus looked a little embarrassed as he answered, “WELL, YOU SEE, WE CURRENTLY LACK A DINING TABLE, AS SANS’ ROCK NEEDED A HOME! BUT, SO LONG AS WE ARE CAREFUL, THE COUCH SERVES! BESIDES . . .” the skeleton glanced to his left, sockets narrowing in annoyance, “ITS NOT AS IF SANS EVER ATE ANYWHERE ELSE HERE, ANYWAY. HE CAN BE SO LAZY AND UNCIVIL!”

          Teddie has no complaints about that. In fact, he’s excited, and he quickly took a seat on the only couch available. He sank right in, the well-worn cushions surprisingly soft despite clear age, and Teddie grins a little when Papyrus offered him a plate. A fork is sticking straight out of the mess, already ready for that first bite, and Teddie took it with a smile.

          He sniffed it again, not detecting anything too unusual. At least, as far he can tell. He’s never had this particular food before. Carefully, he picked up the end of the fork and lifted it, watching as noodles slip off back into the pile. The ones that hang on bend like noodles should, sauce dripping off of the ends in goopy globs.

          He noticed it had also gone rather quiet in the house, and Teddie glanced at Papyrus to find the skeleton was watching with him with a great deal of intensity, but also . . . a great deal of hope. Like how Nanako-chan looked whenever she had presented her Big Bro a gift she had been pouring her heart and soul into, and then waited for his judgment.

           Now, Papyrus was no cute little girl who may as well be an angel on earth, and he had a plate of spaghetti on his head, but Teddie couldn’t ever find it in himself to disappoint somebody when they looked like that. So, he took the fork, took a breath, and dove in.

           Or, at least, he would have, when the thought suddenly crossed his mind that he was still inside his fur, and while he could certainly control it, eating didn’t usually end very well for him. He’d only gotten the urge to consume things when he’d gotten his human body, and that seemed to be exclusive only to his human body. He’s never had to worry about it before, in Inaba, but here, with a human-hunting monster sitting right next to him?

          Oh, this was a dilemma!

          “Um . . .” Teddie started, wiggling the fork between his fingers as he desperately thought of what to say to stall for time, “SO! U-uh, how’d you learn how to cook?”

           Papyrus looked a little startled at first, but it quickly gave way to a grin, all too happy to talk about it, it seemed, “WELL, I LEARNED FROM THE BEST! UNDYNE HERSELF IS MY TEACHER! SHE’S THE COOLEST, MOST DARING, MOST INVENTIVE PERSON I KNOW OUTSIDE MYSELF!”

           Undyne again . . . her name kept coming up. If he was worried about how to ask about her, though, he didn’t have to. Papyrus was still going on, his head spaghetti rocking with his movements.

           “SHE’S THE CAPTAIN OF THE ROYAL GUARD, AND MY PERSONAL TRAINER! AND ONCE I PROVE MY SKILL AND SCRUPLES TO HER, I’LL JOIN THE GUARD, AND BECOME THE GREAT GUARD PAPYRUS! NYEH-HEH-HEH!”

           Teddie nodded along, hoping the skeleton wasn’t noticing his lack of eating, “Oh, cool, cool!”

           “I’M SURE IT’LL BE ANY DAY NOW! ONCE I CAPTURE A HUMAN, EVERYTHING WILL FALL INTO PLACE!”

            Teddie winced, feeling his appetite take a dive. Gently setting the plate aside, he looked at Papyrus again, ears low, “Hey, Papyrus . . . you don’t really have to capture a human to be in the guard, do you?”

           Papyrus looked at him like he had never considered that option before at all, so far into shock Teddie can imagine the other’s eyes bugging out if they had eyes, “WELL, WHAT ELSE IS THERE TO DO?”

            “Well, guards protect people, don’t they? And, oh, I think they stop bad guys, but, not every human’s bad, right? And you were really nice to me! I think a Royal Guard or whatever could use a nice person like that!” Teddie told him, hoping it would stick and that he wasn’t sounding too suspicious.

           But Papyrus just looked contemplative, rubbing a hand on his jaw, “HM . . . BUT UNDYNE’S ALWAYS SAYING THAT HUMANS CAN’T BE TRUSTED.”

           Oh. She was one of those monsters, “Has she met one?”

           “HMM . . . WELL, SHE IS CAPTAIN! SO . . . MAYBE?” but the skeleton didn’t look too sure.

           Teddie pursed his lips, feeling stubborn and wanting Papyrus to see what he saw, that not everything was black and white, “And even if she does, she can’t judge them all that way! Not all humans are bad, or . . . or else things would be a lot worse, wouldn’t they? Down here and . . . and up there, too, I’m sure.”

            His head fell, going very quiet, “You don’t have to hurt people to be great, you know?”

           That caught Papyrus off guard, looking truly flummoxed as he scratched the side of his bald head in confusion, the plate on his head tilting dangerously but not falling, “WHA? HURT PEOPLE? WHOEVER SAID ANYTHING ABOUT HURTING PEOPLE?”

          Now Teddie was confused, “Huh? But, you keep saying you want to capture a human!”

          “YES, CAPTURE ONE! GRIEVOUS INJURY WOULD DEFEAT THE PURPOSE OF THAT, WOULDN’T IT?” Papyrus look self-assured of this, and Teddie could not be more stunned.

          “B-but . . . your puzzles-?”

          “TO BAMBOOZLE AND BEWITCH, OBVIOUSLY! THAT’S WHY WE RECALIBRATED THEM, TO ENSURE OPTIMUM EFFICIENCY! REALLY, COMRADE, YOU WORRY TOO MUCH!” Papyrus was grinning now, looking amused. He glanced at the door, thinking out loud, “OH, WE SHOULD HURRY AND FINISH SOON, THOUGH! WE HAVE THE REST OF THEM TO RECALIBRATE, TOO!”

          But weren’t some of them dangerous? Teddie thought, thinking back. But . . . hm, the ones he’d come across hadn’t been too bad. The electric maze was a little much, but it hadn’t looked like it had hurt Papyrus too badly. More of a . . . shock than anything. Heh.

          Still, one thing was bothering him, and as Papyrus curled a rather enormous amount of spaghetti onto his fork and shoveled it into his mouth with little to no effort, he decided to ask, “But, Papyrus . . . what would happen to the human you captured?”

          Papyrus swallowed, his great smile vanishing into a tiny, thoughtful frown.

          Then, “I HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA!”

          Oh.

          Well.

          Was he supposed to feel encouraged by that? Papyrus certainly seemed honest enough with that statement, so maybe he really had no idea. But, shouldn’t that be something you know before you agree to capture somebody?

         A sudden rummaging from the kitchen caught both their attention, and Teddie’s jaw dropped when Sans walked through archway, a bag of chips in one hand and using the other to scoop out pieces into his mouth. When did he get in?! Teddie hadn’t seen him at all!

          “Sup, bro?” Sans asked, grinning as usual.

          Papyrus was staring at the chips in Sans’ hands, looking on with profound disapproval, “NOW, REALLY, SANS? YOU NEED TO EAT MORE THAN CHIPS WHENEVER YOU’RE HOME!”

          “Hey, relax bro, no need to get so salty over it,” Sans said, pun-game on point as usual as he popped another chip into his mouth.

          Papyrus looked like he would have popped a vein then and there if he had any, “SANS!”

          “Oh, by the way, Papyrus,” Sans said, eyes crinkling with amusement and delight, “Guess what?”

          “WHAT, BROTHER? AND IT BETTER NOT BE ANOTHER PUN!”

          Sans’ grin seemed to grow wider, “I think I saw a human in the woods.”

          Complete silence fell, and if anyone had been listening, they might have just heard the sound Teddie’s heart hitting the floor.

          Oh no. Oh no no no no no-!

          “WHAT?!?!” Papyrus was on his feet instantly, the plate on his head flying up nearly to the ceiling before arcing back down. Papyrus stuck a hand up, and the plate landed on it almost perfectly, the spaghetti and sauce landing there a second after. If he wasn’t on the verge of panicking, Teddie might have been impressed, “SANS, WHY DID YOU LEAVE YOUR POST? IF THIS IS NOT A JOKE, THIS IS SERIOUS! QUICKLY COMRADE, WE MUST AWAY!”

          Papyrus had already placed his plates on the table before bolting out the door, urgency in his steps. Teddie nearly tripped standing up, making for the door as well, mind running a mile a minute.

          This human, it couldn’t be Frisk-chan, could it? They wouldn’t leave the Ruins, surely! It couldn’t be them!

          That doesn’t stop him from running as fast as his little legs can carry him, barely able to keep up with Papyrus’ long strides but managing regardless, because he needed to get there before something bad happened. He promised, after all . . . he promised he’d look after them!

          In the house, Sans shrugged and balled up the chip bag in his hands, shoving it into his jacket pocket before blipping on ahead, curious to see just how this would play out. He had a few suspicions about a few certain things, but eh, what did those matter in the long run? Besides, his brother was having fun. That was all that really mattered.

          Not a one noticed the way the blank tv filled with static, nor the images that flashed behind the grainy screen, one, after, the other . . .

          *(&(^%@. . ☟︎♏︎ . . .*&@#I)($ . . .✋︎⬧︎.. *(*@&#()*%! . . . ♒︎♏︎❒︎♏︎.-*(&#@$&@Q*#$)_**#$R%*(R$hr*(u#)(@------------------------- 

Chapter Text

          This is perhaps the farthest Frisk has ever made it without running into either of the bone brothers ever, although there were still plenty of monsters between the Ruins and Snowdin. Several of Papyrus’ puzzles had already been solved, thankfully in the same manner they had been for Frisk, so they don’t think Teddie is hurt. Well, he would never be hurt, Papyrus wasn’t like that, but they still worried.

          Puffs of white air steamed out of Frisk’s mouth as they hopped over another deactivated spike puzzle, shivering a little despite the perspiration that had gathered at the base of their neck. Wrapping their arms around themselves and rubbing their hands along the wool of their sweater to create friction helped a little, but they longed for the warmth and safety of Toriel’s home.

          Stuffy and overbearing, is what I’d call it.

          Frisk pursed their lips at Chara’s unwanted comment. Ever since Sans had left, the other had become more vocal by quite a lot, and most of the things they had to say were unkind.

          Whatever, was the spirit’s answer to that, You won’t exactly let me out to have a little fun, so I have to take my entertainment where I can get it.

          You could try being nice for once, Frisk groused, knowing that was all but impossible for the other.

          Chara only chuckled in reply, Yeah, like being nice has gotten us anywhere in the past.

          Frisk grit their teeth, trying to swallow back the guilt and frustration that rose up within them at the other’s callous comment. But instead of rising to the bait like Chara undoubtedly wanted, Frisk chose instead to carry on, kicking up snowy powder with every step.

          Tch, you’re no fun.

          They rounded another bend in the forest, crossing through the trees to appear at the edge of Papyrus’ (currently deactivated) tile trap. So much already done . . . and none of it by Frisk themselves. It was . . . strange. And a little unnerving. After being the focal point of so much for so long, they’d forgotten what it was like to simply pass through somewhere as nothing more than a humble passerby, with no story to their name.

          That is, until they became aware of the distant stomping of heavy boots through snow, a sound that was steadily growing closer. Frisk’s eyes zeroed in on the opposite cliff, anticipation needling into their skin, for who knows what this could be now.

          Tromp, tromp, tromp tromp, TROMP!

          There’s the sound of skidding, a blur of rapid movement, and suddenly, a huge spray of snow burst over the edge of the opposite plateau, a tidal wave of crumbling white that washed over the grayed tiles before Frisk’s feet. Frisk covered their face on reflex, startled and alarmed, not for the first time caught completely off guard by the fact that everything was different from how things used to work. They only peeped through their fingers to see what it was that had made the ruckus when things calmed, trepidation making their movements halting. Clouds of white steam remained on the other side, obscuring everything from view so only black shadows could be made out through the veil. And one shadow stood out from all the others, standing directly opposite the grid, a figure obscured in foggy white.

          Until it began to fade, piece by piece like a parting veil. A thrust-out torso, a braced arm, a proudly upturned head . . . and a bright orange scarf.

          Frisk’s hands dropped from their face, mouth now hanging open, eyes misting just a little as happiness and guilt warred within them.

          Papyrus, wonderful, sweet, hilarious Papyrus, stood before them once more, alive and whole and brimming with that same brilliant enthusiasm. That bright grin, that cocksure posture, the positive aura, all of it exactly as it always was, even when . . .

          When . . .

          Before Frisk’s thoughts could sink, however . . . another colorful figure burst into view, stumbling in those last few steps before tumbling head-first into the snow, “WAH!”

          It was like their heart skipped and thundered all at once, Frisk tottering forward a few steps before their brain caught up with what they were doing, hand reaching out. And on the opposite side of them, Teddie propped himself back up on his arms, spitting out the snow he’d swallowed on his way down, safe and sound, “Pthwah, ptht, ptht! Yuck!”

          The relief at seeing the other unhurt is almost too much for them to bear. But its sweet in its own way, too. And Frisk is so happy that they feel they can hardly breathe.

          Teddie finally looked up as well, and when his eyes find Frisk standing at the end of the bridge, his eyes grew huge, equal measures of relief and worry swimming inside them.

          And stepping up behind the two, draped in blue, is Sans.

          Any previous happy feelings Frisk had quickly evaporated, and they hunched their shoulders in to make themselves look smaller, head bowing. But inwardly, they know they have to be careful. They’re glad that Teddie’s disguised as he is, but if they messed up? They can’t let it slip that there’s a human beneath that fuzzy shell, for who knows what Sans will do.

          Their thoughts didn’t get much farther than that, though, for that was when Papyrus broke in with a delighted scream, the skeleton’s sockets sparkling with both wonder and glee as he reached down to pluck Teddie off of the ground, “COMRADE, BROTHER, LOOK!! A HUMAN! A REAL HUMAN! RIGHT BEFORE US, CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?”

          “No bones about it, bro,” Sans said, rocking back on his heels like he’s about to fall over into the snow and fall asleep.

          Teddie jostled under Papyrus’ arm as the skeleton twirled around in unabashed excitement, and Frisk can very clearly see the panic that started to make way on his face, arms waving in the air frantically, “U-uh, y-yeah, th-that sure is a human! We-we-we should, uh, RUN AWAY! REALLY FAST! ALL OF US!”

          Frisk had to fight down a smile. They knew Teddie probably didn’t know that Papyrus didn’t mean any real harm, but it was sweet that he still wanted to keep them safe. Sans on the other hand . . .

          Probably better if they didn’t let their thoughts travel down that road . . .

          “OH, NONSENSE, COMRADE! I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AFTER ALL! THERE IS NOTHING I CANNOT DO! AND-!” with a flourish, Papyrus swept an arm out in front of him to the grid that separated them, grinning all the while, “WE STILL HAVE OUR PUZZLES!”

           Papyrus, after setting the bear down onto solid ground, dramatically placed his hands on his hips with a determined smile on his face, “NYEH-HEH-HEH, YOU SEE HUMAN, WHLE YOU MAY HAVE TAKEN ADVANTAGE OF MY COMRADE’S AND MINE’S ABSCENCE TO BYPASS MY OTHER PUZZLES, YOU’LL FIND THAT THIS ONE WILL MAKE UP FOR THEM TENFOLD!”

           Beside him, Teddie shot Frisk a frantic look, waving a paw behind the other’s back in ‘run-away’ motion. Frisk, already knowing how this particular part played out, gave him a thumbs up, hoping it would alleviate the human’s worries. An act that quickly became apparent it didn’t, because the only thing they got was an uncomprehending head shake and a mouthed ‘what?’.

           Papyrus took that as an affirmative, “WELL, I AM GLAD YOU ARE SO ENTHUSIASTIC! THAT IS GOOD, FOR I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, HAVE PUT A GREAT DEAL OF EFFORT INTO THIS PUZZLE! EVEN THOUGH DR. ALPHYS WAS THE CREATOR!”

          Taking an embellished step closer to the machine beside him, Papyrus placed one arm behind his back and held the other up like he was in a lecture hall, as delightfully bombastic as ever, and Frisk had missed that so much, “YOU SEE, EVERYTHING IS COLOR-CODED! RED TILES ARE IMPASSABLE! YOU CANNOT WALK ON THEM! YELLOW TILES ARE ELECTRIC! THEY WILL ELECTROCUTE YOU!”

           Behind him, Teddie’s mouth dropped open in horror.

          “GREEN TILES ARE ALARM TILES! IF YOU STEP ON THEM . . . YOU WILL HAVE TO FIGHT A MONSTER!”

          Then the bear’s eyes bugged. Frisk was starting to feel a little bad for him.

           “ORANGE TILES ARE ORANGE-SCENTED! THEY WILL MAKE YOU SMELL DELICIOUS!”

           A moment, and then Teddie’s shoulders sagged, breathing a sigh of relief.

          “BLUE TILES ARE WATER TILES! SWIM THROUGH IF YOU LIKE, BUT . . . IF YOU SMELL LIKE ORANGES . . . THE PIRHANAS WILL BITE YOU!”

           Aaaand he’s back to horror. That didn’t last long.

          “ALSO, IF A BLUE TILE IS NEXT TO A YELLOW TILE, THE WATER WILL ALSO ZAP YOU!”

          There’s a bit of distance between them, but to Frisk it looked like Teddie was actually starting to sweat.

          “PURPLE TILES ARE SLIPPERY! YOU WILL SLIDE TO THE NEXT TILE! HOWEVER, THE SLIPPERY SLOPE SMELLS LIKE LEMONS! WHICH PIRHANAS DO NOT LIKE! PURPLE AND BLUE ARE OKAY! FINALLY, PINK TILES!”

          Poor Teddie had his head between his paws now, wilting on the spot. If only Frisk could put a comforting hand on the other’s shoulder to let him know it was okay. Or his head. He liked head pats.

          “THEY DON’T DO ANYTHING.”

          Aaaand the bear all but collapsed into the snow. Poor guy . . .

          “Little early for hibernation, ain’t it?” Frisk heard Sans ask the bear, looking amused by the sudden and dramatic drop, “Come on, Ted, you’re missin’ the best part.”

          “INDEED!” Papyrus bellowed, “ALTHOUGH FIRST, DO YOU NEED ME TO REPEAT ANYTHING, HUMAN?”

          Frisk gave one last glance to Teddie and Sans, then shook their head. They knew everything about this. They’d be fine.

          “VERY WELL!” Papyrus said, pleased as he reached for the lever, “THEN LET US-!”

          “W-wait, wait, wait, wait, WAIT!”

          Teddie popped up and ran in front of the other, frantically waving his paws in front of his face to stop the skeleton. And stop he did, brow curving up in confusion, “COMRADE? WHAT IS THE MATTER?”

          “Yeah, pretty puzzling reaction, kid,” Sans said, side-eyeing the other curiously and ignoring the pointed glare Papyrus gave him. Well, not ignoring, but his grin did grow just a fraction larger.

          “Uh, UH, w-well, y-you know, we, uh-,” Teddie floundered for what to say, evidently not having thought that far ahead. Then, like a lightbulb went off over his head, the bear suddenly straightened, “We haven’t recalibrated this one yet! It . . . might not be safe? S-so, uh, we shouldn’t try it!”

          “HM . . .” Papyrus paused, rubbing a gloved hand along his jaw thoughtfully, “YOU ARE RIGHT, COMRADE, WE HAVE NOT! BUT, HESITATION IN THE FACE OF OUR GOAL IS UNBECOMING OF A ROYAL GUARD, AND AFTER BUILDING UP OUR GLORIOUS PUZZLE SO MUCH, IT WOULD BE VERY RUDE TO NOT DELIVER! DO NOT WORRY! I ASSURE YOU, EVERYTHING WILL GO ABSOLUTELY RIGHT!”

          And Papyrus reached up and pulled the lever down, and the grid lit up in a panoply of color.

          “Ooooh no!” Frisk heard Teddie yell, paws on his head again. This whole experience must be shaving years off the other’s life.

          All he, or any of them, could do though was watch as the grid shuttered and shifted like a strobe light, going faster and faster and faster and faster until-!

          The colors all stopped at once, frozen static on the floor. Then, as it had done every time before, the whole thing blanked out into a path of rosy pink bordered by bright red, a perfect, stationary path that would do Frisk no harm.

          Teddie all but collapsed, a laugh of nervous relief bubbling up for him, “Ha ha, w-well, guess it didn’t work! We, uh, we should go!”

          And, in true Papyrus fashion, the skeleton did not let it stop him, “A-AH, WELL, WE HAVE OTHER OPTIONS! THIS IS NOT THE END, HUMAN! VICTORY WILL BE HAD THIS DAY FOR THE GREAT PAPYRUS! NYEH-HEH-HEH!”

          The skeleton reached down and plucked Teddie off the ground, the disguised human giving a startled ‘yeep!’ as he was lifted up and tucked securely under the other’s arm. With that, Papyrus loped down the path and vanished from view, off to his next ludicrously silly puzzle.

         Oh, Frisk had missed him so much. And knowing Teddie was safe took a burden off of their shoulders that had weighed heavily on them since they had left the Ruins. Now they just had to figure out how to get them both back safe and sound . . .

          A shift of movement at the corner of their eye alerted them that they still weren’t completely alone however, and Frisk froze anew when they noticed Sans was looking their way. Still on the other side of the bridge.

          Frisk swallowed, falling heavy into their gut like a stone. There was no way to go but forward if they wanted to get Teddie back safely, but . . .

          Shivering from more than cold, Frisk forced themselves to take a step forward, then another, keeping their gaze rooted firmly in front of them. The glass of the grid rang under their shoes, every step another ominous chime as they crept closer to the other side, until at last their feet touched down on soft, powdered snow. All the while, their thoughts ran. Was he watching them? Was he waiting for them to do something bad again? Why was he so quiet? Why didn’t he say anyth-?

          “So, ya try the spaghetti back there?”

          The toe of Frisk’s left shoe caught against the heel of the other one as they startled forward, tripping and stumbling until they landed face-first in the slush.  A little dazed, they pushed themselves up and shook the snow from their shoulders and face, feeling the melting wetness seep through their sweater.

          “Gee kid, didn’t mean to trip you up with that question,” Frisk looked up at Sans, expecting anything other than the amused smile on the other’s face. Like everything was fine, “I was just wonderin’ if you gave it a try, is all. My brother’s gotten a lot better since he took cooking lessons. Might even make somethin’ edible next year.”

          Frisk knelt there, not knowing what to do or say, so they settled for a small nod. Maybe that would be enough.

          “Eh, well, worth a shot,” Sans commented, idly rubbing a finger under his nasal cavity, “Well, guess I’ll see ya up ahead.”

           Frisk swallowed again and stood up, moving ahead without looking the skeleton’s way. Maybe it only made them appear even more guilty than before, but they can’t bear to look. Sans, for his part, said nothing about it, never moving from his spot.

           It wasn’t until they reached the next area that they breathe again, cold air rushing into their lungs, refreshing. The snowy opening was awash with sculptures both whole and broken. Heh, it looked like Lesser Dog had found his inspiration without Frisk.

           So, guess your little friend is alive after all!

           Frisk winced, then sighed. Silence couldn’t last forever, not for them.

           Of course not. But aren’t you glad? All of your dreams are coming true! The dark presence in their head chortled, If you can get him back, that is. And avoid Flowey. And avoid Sans.

           Frisk clenched their eyes shut and tromped forward, leave me alone.

           Not a chance.

           Frisk marched on, determined to not give the voice in their head the time of day, when a glimmer of gold caught their eye.

           It was a SAVE point. Same as it always was, where it always was. Frisk came to it out of instinct, drawn to its gentle light, feeling that familiar swell inside them. That feeling of DETERMINATION. It was a little different this time, though. Now, they were determined to find Teddie and go back home. To Toriel. No matter what the voices in their head might say.

           Chara scoffed, Oooh, so determined. Isn’t that cute.

           Giving Chara no more attention than they deserved, Frisk planted their memory within, safe and sound.

           The ice puzzle after this was familiar to them, and they solved that in record time. Even after so long, the steps were woven into memory, and sliding on the ice and feeling the cold air breeze by their face was wonderful.

          When at last they came out of the other side, and after shaking the snow castle off of their head, Frisk walked on ahead. Greater Dog was right where they expected, as excitable as always, and when they licked their face after their fight was done, Frisk couldn’t help but give a little grin.

           It was so easy to lose themselves in the motions that had become second nature to them after so many resets . . . if not for their new mission and the voice in their head, Frisk could imagine this being just like any other run before now.

          The rickety bridge is the same too, spanning that perilous gap between the forest and the quaint little village beyond, swaying ever so slightly. Frisk walked onto it with no fear, knowing it would support their weight every time, and that the creaking was just its way of saying hello.

          And as always, standing on the opposite side were Papyrus and Sans, side by side and waiting for Frisk’s arrival to spring their last puzzle of the day. With, of course, the addition of the newest member of this little story; Teddie.

          Their wayward friend was wringing his paws together, ears down and looking so very worried, and Frisk felt bad for him. They felt even worse knowing the inevitable heart attack the poor thing was going to have when Papyrus unveiled his next puzzle . . . even if he never actually unleashed it.

          Papyrus, upon seeing them, laughed, “HUMAN! YOU MAY HAVE SLIPPED BY AND BESTED MY PREVIOUS PUZZLES, BUT NOW I PRESENT TO YOUR FINAL AND MOST DANGEROUS CHALLENGE! BEHOLD” the skeleton stuck his arm up into the air, the snow swirling around his gauntlets in a dramatic frenzy, “THE GAUNTLET OF DEADLY TERROR!”

          And, as dramatically as the snow, flames, cannons, spikes, a dog, and every other conceivably dangerous thing in existence both descended and ascended around the bridge, ready to gnash any humans foolish enough to brave it into little tiny bits.

          Teddie looked ready to faint.

          Oblivious to that, Papyrus carried on, “WHEN I SAY THE WORD, IT’LL FULLY ACTIVATE! CANNONS WILL FIRE! SPIKES WILL SWING! BLADES WILL SLICE! EACH PART WILL SWING VIOLENTLY UP AND DOWN! ONLY THE TINIEST CHANCE OF VICTORY WILL REMAIN! ARE YOU READY?”

          “W-WAIT!” Teddie all but dove in front of a perplexed Papyrus, shouting, “Isn’t this dangerous!?”

          The skeleton stared, then looked up and tapped a finger against his chin, thoughtful, “WELL, YES, BUT . . . HM.”

          “W-w-we can’t use this, they could get really hurt! Really, really hurt!”

          “AH, BUT THAT IS PRECISLEY WHAT THE HUMAN WANTS US TO THINK . . . I THINK! WE MUST NOT FALTER TO THEIR TRICKS, COMRADE!” Papyrus told him, a look of determination crossing his face, “AND WE! MUST! DO IT!”

          Not where he had previously been before, Sans dropped an arm on the bear’s head, leaning on him as he pulled a ketchup bottle out of his jacket, “Relax, kid.”

          “SANS, PUT THAT AWAY!” Papyrus admonished, “THIS IS A DRAMATIC MOMENT!”

          “Just a snack, bro. Sides, ain’t you always telling me to ketchup on my midday meals?”

          “AAAAAH, THIS IS NOT WHAT I MEANT AND YOU KNOW IT!”

          As the two became sufficiently distracted, Frisk noticed Teddie gesture for them to run again, a bit more desperately than before. Frisk shook their head, then gave him another thumbs up. They weren’t going to run away. You don’t progress that way.

          Papyrus saw them gesture, and he straightened, “AH, THAT’S THE SPIRIT HUMAN! THIS WILL BE THE ULTIMATE TEST! NOW LET! US! BEGIN!”

          There’s several seconds of anticipating silence, at least on the end of the bridge where the three stood, waiting for something to happen. Frisk can see the way Papyrus eyes wandered over the various traps in place, and maybe it’s been compounded by Teddie’s words, but the sudden hesitation in his eyes is very much the same. And, as always, nothing happened.

 Eventually, Sans glanced at his brother, “So? What’s the holdup?”

          “HOLDUP?! WHAT HOLDUP?!” Papyrus demanded, and even from this distance, Frisk can see the slight ting of orange along the skeleton’s face indicating a blush, “I’M . . . I’M ABOUT TO ACTIVATE IT RIGHT NOW!”

          And, once again . . . nothing happened.

          Teddie, who had been fixing his frantic eyes between Frisk and Papyrus since this started, began to noticeably relax a little . . . like he was realizing what Frisk already knew; Papyrus would never go so far as to actually hurt them.

          “That, uh, doesn’t look very activated,” Sans commented.

          “WELL!!” Papyrus started, already looking for that excuse to avoid having to use this gauntlet, “I HAVE GIVEN IT SOME THOUGHT, AND IT WOULD SEEM MY COMRADE IS ONTO SOMETHING! WITH THIS, IT WOULD BE TO EASY TO DEFEAT THE HUMAN! YEAH! SO, WE CAN’T USE THIS ONE! I AM A SKELETON WITH STANDARDS AFTER ALL!”

          Beneath Sans arm, Teddie sagged, breathing a relieved sigh.

          “THIS IS MUCH TOO DIRECT! NO CLASS AT ALL! AWAY IT GOES!” Papyrus waved his hand, thumb clicking on something hidden in his palm, perhaps the thing he used to command the gauntlet before him. As one, the arms of the deadly device began to retract out of sight, just like they always did.

          Then, like a mirage, Frisk’s eye caught sight of something hovering along the poles of the device’s arms, something that twitched like gray static on a broken screen.

          There was a mechanical groan of metal jarring against one another, right before the arms stopped moving.

          A second of puzzled silence went by, a silence that made dread rise up inside of Frisk’s stomach, while Papyrus wonderingly asked, “NOW, WHAT IN THE WORLD-?”

          At the same time, a second voice yelled, a voice inside of their head, What are you doing?! Run you idiot-!

          Click.

          A gout of fire suddenly exploded up in a column of twisting flame just behind where they stood, and Frisk let out a cry of alarm, jerking forward to flee. At the same time, a jagged spear swung down in front of them, and they barely stopped in time, the glinting edge missing them so closely Frisk thought they could see blades of their own hair get lost in the wind. But the blade did nick the ropes supporting the bridge, and to Frisk’s horror, they saw them start to fray. More fire burst up behind them, closer than before, the heat so intense they felt it singe their bare skin. Taking a desperate chance, Frisk leapt forward, narrowly avoiding another slice of the deadly spear. They hit the bridge stomach first, skidding a bit and feeling splinters work their way through their sweater, when right in front of their face a spear suddenly burst through the wood, the edge a mere inch from their nose and sending shattered pieces everywhere. Frisk doesn’t know what’s happening anymore, nothing at all! But they do know they could die. And it occurred to them that SAVES or not, they don’t know what might happen if they die now, if Chara got a second shot at taking control before Frisk can. It was a thought that came out of nowhere, but it terrified them all the same.

          Feeling another swish of a blade over their head, Frisk squeezed their eyes shut and screamed.

          “HUMAN?!” Papyrus shouted, alarmed.

          “FRISK-CHAN!” almost immediately, Teddie shook a startled Sans’ arm off and blitzed forward, heedless of the danger as a large chained mace dropped down near him. He narrowly avoided it, but the spiked nubs clipped him in the back and made him lose his balance, the bear tripping and rolling forward a way before landing with a splat.

          “Teddie!” Frisk shouted, scared for an entirely new reason now. Limbs shaking, they forced themselves to stand and observe, noting the way the devices moved to a rhythm. They just . . . had to follow it. They had to follow it!

          Excited dog barks filling their ears, Frisk moved forward, careful to avoid anything that would end in a far too early demise. Teddie had tottered upright as well, moving towards them, shouting, “I-its okay, Frisk-chan! Just stay calm! WHOA!”

          Frisk felt their heart stutter when a fiery column rose up next to him, singeing the other’s fur.

          “TURN OFF, TURN OFF, WHY WON’T THIS TURN OFF?!” Papyrus shouted in dismay, pounding his fingers into the little control box in his hands. Beside him, Sans only watched, although he did look more startled than Frisk had ever seen him. Like he hadn’t been expecting this either . . .

          Frisk swallowed dryly, thinking how best to proceed, when the bridge suddenly lurched under their feet and nearly threw them off. They saved themselves just in the nick of time, grabbing hold of the rope railing next to them and coiling their arms tight. As it stood, they were practically dangling anyway as the bridge tilted dangerously down on one side, the other railing frayed nearly completely, holding by mere threads.

          Oh no . . . they thought, blood pulsing in their ears.

          Just then, a blade swung down by their head, startling them so much that Frisk jerked away on reflex. They loosened their hold so they could grab the rope with their hands and shimmy back, but right as they did so, the opposite railing finally snapped apart.

          The jolt of the boards beneath their feet caught them off guard, the whole thing tipping sideways to expose them to the perilous drop below. And before they could correct their grip, with a thrill of horror, Frisk felt their fingers slip.

          The whole world seemed to tilt back as they frantically grabbed for their only lifeline, but it was just a little too far for them to reach. They could only watch as it slipped away from them, and they braced themselves for a long and cold plummet down to the earth below.

          Until something warm and soft grabbed their wrist and cut that fall abruptly short.

          Eyes snapping open, Frisk looked up to see that Teddie had grabbed them just in time, one paw clinging to the rope while the other held onto Frisk tightly. He grunted as the bridge jostled again, but his grip remained firm, “H-hang on, Frisk-chan, I got you!”

          Frisk reached up with their other hand and grabbed hold of his mitt, clinging on as hard as they could. Empty space was all that remained just below their feet, and Frisk could only hope they got out of this before something else went wrong.

         You know, when you say things like that-, an unwelcome voice chimed in, you usually have exactly what you don’t want to happen, happen.

         Frisk scowled a little, trying to focus more on holding on, when a sudden loud commotion drew their attention up. One of the blades had swung down again, but this time it had crashed into another one coming up, the two forces shattering each other to pieces. And that started a domino effect for the whole thing, maces and spears and blades slamming into each other, bits of broken pieces flying everywhere. Most noticeably, they flew into the already torn-up bridge, the devastated remnants slicing through wood and rope alike.

          Chara chuckled a little, case in point.

          “U-uh-oh . . .” Teddie mumbled, and Frisk was keenly aware of their own rising dread.

           That was all he got to say, for right then, the whole bridge collapsed. And suddenly, they were both freefalling, their cries lost in the din of exploding machinery.

           Everything happened in seconds, so fast Frisk barely had time to register any of it. The things that stood out most outside of their own weightlessness was the feeling of a pair of fuzzy arms encircling them, a blur of orange over both their heads, and suddenly, a sensation of something warm encircling their SOUL and holding it up, their fast freefall softening into something much more gentle. Then, something hard and fast slammed into both of them at the same time, jerking them harshly to the right.

            Frisk buried their face into Teddie’s fur as they moved, grip tightening when their fall came to an abrupt and sudden stop. They were still dangling, Teddie holding onto them tightly, but they weren’t falling anymore. Around them, the sound of explosions and collapsing metal and fiery wood died away as it all fell into the forest below, until they could only make out the sound of their own tight and terrified breaths. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity to recollect themselves, Frisk dared peek out to see what had happened.

           They swallowed when they saw the steep drop below them, but they weren’t falling towards it. No. And when they looked up, they saw the reason why.

           “HELLO, HUMAN! MY MANY APOLOGIES FOR THAT!” Papyrus said, face creased apologetically. He had one arm locked tight around Teddie’s middle, holding the bear securely to his side with Frisk tucked safely in his grasp, while the other was extended above the skeleton’s head to hold fast to a large bone jutting out of the cliff face. Papyrus’ boots were braced against the wall as well, shifting slightly to better accommodate both of their combined weight. What weight need to be accommodated, that is, for now, Frisk could see their SOUL hovering just in front of them, encased in a deep blue glow that was keeping them as light as a feather instead of heavy as a stone. Above the bone keeping them secure, Frisk could see a long fissure about six feet in length, too smooth to have been made naturally. Which meant . . . they must have slid that far before actually stopping. The bridge was gone completely, save for the half attached to the opposite cliff Frisk had come from, hanging limply along the stony wall. And above them, peeking over the edge, they could see Sans looking down at them, a hand rubbing along his skull, “Ya got ‘em, Pap?”

          “YES, I DO, BROTHER! NOW, IF YOU WOULD STAND BACK PLEASE!” Papyrus called out.

          “P-Papyrus?” Teddie, finally daring to open his own eyes as well, looked up at the skeleton, a little breathless . . . but a little awestruck too, “You saved us?”

          The skeleton nodded, holding his chin up high, “OF COURSE I DID, COMRADE, FOR I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS! I WOULD NOT LEAVE YOU TWO TOO PERISH, ESPECIALLY SEEING AS THIS WAS . . . MY . . . FAULT . . .” the skeleton’s head dropped a little, but quickly perked back up, clearing his throat, “ANYWAY, LETS GET OURSELVES BACK . . . UP . . . TO . . .”

          Papyrus trailed off, unusual even in the best of circumstances, sockets fixed on something above Frisk’s head. And when they looked . . .

          Oh . . .

         Teddie’s SOUL was hovering there, placid and calm, but the fissures in it stood out starkly with the blue coating it’s surface. Teddie, unable to do anything to hide, just looked away, looking both embarrassed and . . . almost ashamed. Frisk glanced at Papyrus, noticing the way the skeleton’s whole face had softened slightly, thoughtfully . . .

         Then, with a gleam of resolve, Papyrus straightened, “ALRIGHT! PLAN REVISED! WE’LL TAKE THE SLIGHTLY LONGER ROUTE!”

          A bone suddenly burst out from the rock beneath them, startling them both. Without releasing the bone above his head, Papyrus placed his feet on it carefully, shifting his weight to it so he didn’t slip. Then, he looked up, tracing a path with his eyes up the wall before tapping one foot against the bone underneath him. At once, other bones erupted along the cliff face all the way up, until a strange, stairway-like set of bony steps crisscrossed up the wall to safety.

         “UNDYNE TAUGHT ME THIS TRICK!” Papyrus said, grinning, “HANG ON TIGHT NOW!”

          Then, against all reason or sanity, he jumped. Frisk’s arms constricted tight around Teddie’s middle, and the bear’s arms tightened in return, neither softening as the skeleton jumped from one bony step to the next. It took a few minutes for him to scale up the side, but finally, the skeleton threw an arm up over the edge of the cliff and hauled them all up over the side, to at last touch down on solid earth. The blue magic supporting them dissipated, and it felt like falling back into their own body as their SOUL vanished from sight.

          Teddie immediately scooted back from the edge with Frisk still wrapped up in his arms, breathing a little heavier than normal, but his fur was finally starting to fall flat as imminent danger passed. Looking down, he then asked, “Frisk-chan, are you okay?”

          Frisk’s limbs were shaking hard as the adrenaline finally released its hold on their body, heart still racing a little too fast for comfort, but they were alive. In no small way, that was thanks to Teddie and Papyrus. So, looking back at him and sniffing back their relieved tears, they smiled and nodded.

           Teddie sagged a little in relief, a small smile and a slight, watery laugh leaving him, when suddenly their face was smushed into his fur. Above them, they heard the bear sniffle, “I-I was so scared. I-I thought you w-were . . .”

           Frisk returned his embrace tenfold, feeling tears prick their eyes. They hadn’t meant to scare him. It was all supposed to go like it did before! But . . . it didn’t . . .

          “M’sorry . . .” they murmured, sniffling.

          Teddie shook his head, voice shaky, “Mm, don’t be sorry! It wasn’t you’re fault! I’m just glad you’re okay!”

          “Me too . . .” Frisk admitted.

           It was quiet for a few moments, Frisk just savoring having their friend back, alive and well.

           Then, “So . . . guess ya already know this human, huh Ted?”

           Both of them jerked apart, Teddie shooting upright and trying to scoot Frisk behind him, “U-uh, n-noooo, of course not! I-I was just, really worried! Ya know, n-normal stuff! Heh heh . . .”

           It was clear that neither skeleton was falling for it. Papyrus looked between the pair, scratching his head, “IF YOU KNEW A HUMAN WAS HERE, COMRADE . . . THEN WHY DID YOU NOT SAY ANYTHING?”

          “I told you, I don’t . . . i-its not-!” Teddie stopped, seeming to realize that it was pointless at this point, before sighing deeply, head bowing, “. . . Frisk-chan’s my friend. I . . . I didn’t want you to hurt them.”

           Frisk stood up as well, coming to stand beside the disguised human supportively.

           “YOUR FRIEND . . .?” Papyrus was still loud, but . . . not as loud as he normally was. It was as close to somber as Frisk imagined the skeleton could get.

           But . . . there was a chance here, wasn’t there? To . . . maybe . . .

          “You saved me,” Frisk spoke up, keeping their eyes firmly on Papyrus, trying to express just how grateful they were with their eyes and words alone, “And you’re lots of fun. Maybe . . . we could be friends too?”

           The skeleton’s sockets grew wide, jaw dropping to a comical degree. Then, he snapped it closed and bat a hand to his head, admonishing, “NO, NO, I CANNOT BE SWAYED BY YOUR DECREES OF FRIENDSHIP! I! MUST! PERSERVERE!”

           “Careful, bro, you’re givin’ me a headache just watchin’ ya,” Sans said, smiling.

           Just then, another voice rang out, “Just what in the world is going on out here?!”

           Teddie and Frisk spun around in surprise, to find that a whole crowd of monsters had gathered at the edge of the town, obviously drawn by all the noise and commotion. At the head, the shopkeeper stood, her ears up and hands braced sharply on her hips, eyeing Papyrus and Sans, “And just what happened to our bridge?!”

           All four of them looked back at the same time, to where empty space now existed between the cliffs. As if waiting for such a perfect moment, one of the only remaining wooden slats of the dangling bridge broke off, plummeting to the woods below, the sound of its shattering echoing acutely over the silent crowd.

          “AH, WELL, YOU SEE, A MOST AMUSING STORY . . .” Papyrus started as he looked back, looking very nervous as he fiddled with his gloves.

          “Do ya want the long version, or the abridged one?” Sans asked cheekily.

          “SANS.”

          “What bro, we need to cross the gap here with our audience.”

          “SANS, THIS IS SERIOUS!”

          “Maybe, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

          “SANS!”

           As the two ‘argued’, Frisk hadn’t taken their eyes away from the broken space, eyes being drawn to the other side of the cliff. The forest was lonely, dark green powdered in white. There was nothing there. Nothing at all.

           But Frisk couldn’t look away from that nothing . . . because somehow, nothing was looking back.

           And nothing was smiling.

           The world seemed to tilt, and suddenly the snow is rushing up to meet them, a bright, brilliant white that gave way to pitch back darkness in the matter of a second. And the sound of someone shouting their name is the only thing that followed them there.