Hey guys! Starting... starting another one... haha... um. This is my first time writing 2nd person, so if there are any inconsistencies, then let me know. Um. I just really wanted someone to take care of my little cinnamon roll as they travel through the Underground. That child needs a supervisor. So I made one.

Disclaimer: Nope. All rights to Toby Fox, man.


You lean against the railing that guards one of the ledges that drop off into a sheer drop down the mountain, lost in your own thoughts. There really is only one feasible reason that you had climbed the overgrown mountain, struggling through the fabled path into disappearance. Well, a multitude of reasons that can easily be chalked up into one.

It's pretty easy to guess what that reason is.

Your hair blows wildly as the wind picks up. The sun is setting, casting its dying rays of light over the mountain. Mt Ebott is gorgeous from this angle, you realize. From the foot of the mount, the summit was dark and foreboding. At the height you stand at now, however, it practically screams adventure. You almost want to abandon your plans and start anew, beginning with a journey over the terrain. Almost.

You can't really feel much of anything at this point, though. It longing for excitement vanishes as easily as it arrives, leaving you as empty and numb as you were before. It's almost unsettling, how at ease you are with the detachment to your own life. How at ease you are with the thought of hopping over the railing and allowing gravity to do its work, dragging you down the rocky sides of the mountain and testing fate. You had heard of people miraculously (although that term is debatable) living through fool-proof plans. Then again, there's no one around to hear your cries to put you out of your misery if you lived through a fall down the bluff.

"Better do it right the first time, then," you muse to yourself.

The soft, unmistakable tap of footsteps approaching tug you from your thoughts. Surprise filters through your deadened mind. You look around, straightening up and stuffing your hands in your jacket pockets. You raise an eyebrow, tensing up in preparation to socialize. A small, brown head pops into view as whoever it is (evidently a child) makes their way into your field of vision.

Wow, even more surprise. I'm on a roll today.

Narrow eyes widen as their dark, shielded gaze (one that you recognized well, having seen it often on yourself when you looked in the mirror) meets yours. They wear a blue-ish grey sweater with bold purple stripes on the torso that reaches down to their knees and sleeves that stretch past their hands. You can barely see the hem of a pair of blue jean shorts peeking out from the edges of the sweater. They look as surprised to see you as you are to see them. Their expression clouds in wariness.

You hope the expression you plaster on your face is one of gentleness and not of annoyance. You don't want to frighten the child, but you did have a goal to meet before the sun set. You can't do that with the kid around. Maybe the smile you coral your features into will alleviate the other's fears.

"Come to see the view?"

They nod and slowly step towards you. You roll your shoulders and attempt to relax, noticing the tremble in their step. They give you a look that says they can easily see right through your forced grin. You let it fall from your face. That, surprisingly, seems to put the kid more at ease.

"…What's, ah, what's your name?" You ask, glancing around for the child's parents. Adults will royally screw up your plans. A small hand takes yours during your distraction, causing you to jump a little as your head snaps down to look at the kid's hand in yours. You shoot the kid a quizzical look as they begin tracing their finger along your palm. It takes a second to realize they're drawing letters. You shake your head, causing the kid to look up.

You grin sheepishly. "Sorry, again?"

The child huffs but begins retracing their earlier path, moving more slowly. A tiny glare looks up at your impatiently when they decide they're apparently done. You raise an eyebrow, trying to smother a grin at the expression through sheer willpower.

(You haven't been this determined over anything for a long time. How sad.)

"Frisk, huh? That's an unusual name." They shrug and you laugh. "Fair enough. It isn't like mine is all that common either."

At Frisk's imploring look you introduce yourself. They giggle and lift their hands, waving them around in certain formations. They make a C in front of their face with one hand, swiping down at the air before tapping the index and middle fingers together in a cross-like sign. You huff, crossing your arms.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, munchkin."

You have no clue what they had just said, but you had taken the basics of sign language in high school. You rely on this near forgotten knowledge to attempt to convey a short question- since drawing letters in response to everything could take forever and a day.

You waggle your index finger back and forth for a second before touching your thumb to your chin, then your forehead. Where are your parents?

Something akin to happiness sparks in Frisk's gaze and their fingers fly into action. You're thankful that Frisk seems to understand your level of comprehension would be best in simple, slowly performed words. The signs are laced with melancholy.

"Don't Know. They left. They're gone."

You frown, a knot forming in your chest. "Your parents just… left you?"

On a mountain that people are said to disappear on…? That's not suspicious at all… Poor kid…

Your stony expression deepens when Frisk nods, their gaze focused on the ground. Gently, you take Frisk's hand in yours. They look up, surprise flashing through their gaze. You smile reassuringly and their hand curls cautiously around yours. A small smile grows on their face as you kneel to be at their eye level.

"I'll look out for you until they come back for you, okay?"

You don't mention that you don't think the adults will be coming back for them. You can tell they already know form the look in their eyes. Nevertheless, Frisk's smile widens and they nod happily. You stand again, casting a look back at the railing.

Can I really do this? You wonder. I was so ready to end it, so firm in my decision that I would not be going back down that mountain… But this poor kid didn't sign up for that. I can't just leave them. I won't.

Call it child's intuition, or innocence, or whatever, but the gentle tug at your hand that draws your gaze away from the drop-off is exactly what you need to reaffirm your own convictions. Frisk manages to tear your thoughts away from the edge and, with an enthusiastic jab with their pointer finger, directs your attention up the trail of Mt Ebott. They run ahead a few steps, never releasing your hand. You raise an eyebrow, leaning forward to relieve some of the tension in your stretched arm.

"You want to climb to the top?"

Frisk nods eagerly, tugging on the tight hold they have on your hand. You smile and laugh incredulously, shaking your head. Frisk looks back at you, confused.

"Sorry, sorry, it's just- you get dropped off on a mountain and decide to climb to the top of said mountain," you explain as you smother your laughter. Frisk grins sheepishly. "You're something else, munchkin."

They tug on your hand again, though less eagerly this time. Their gaze is guarded. You grin and step up beside them, squeezing their hand. Some of the jadedness leaves their eyes as some of the hollowness in your own chest closes up. You begin walking and their eyes light up in excitement.

"C'mon then. Maybe we can make it a good ways before the sun sets if we start now." Frisk releases their hold on your hand and runs ahead, giggling. They stumble over their own feet in their haste but catch themselves. They continue to run. You chuckle as you follow, wishing you could be so carefree again. "Careful!"

Frisk beams back at you, giving you a thumbs up. You predict an hour or two before you end up carrying the child.


Okay, so they made it three hours. Whatever, you still end up giving the kid a piggyback ride up the mountain. In the dark. Yeah, the sun has set. Goody. At least it's a full moon tonight, and so close to the sky, it's almost as bright as during the day.

They drowse on your shoulder, almost completely still. Frisk isn't entirely out for the count, though, if the arms locked around your neck are anything to go by. You have one of your arms braced beneath one of their legs to stabilize them on your back as you climb the ever steepening trail. The other hand is used a balance, reaching out to grab anything you can to help guide you

The two of you have almost made it to the summit. It looms closer and closer until you can no longer casually glance up to see the top. A gentle tug on your hair draws your attention back to the child lounging on your back.

"Sup, munchkin?"

Frisk points off the trail, leaning over your shoulder. You follow the direction the child pointed with your gaze. You peer through the trees, frowning in concentration to see through the dark. Your eyes widen as you catch sight of the object of Frisk's attention.

A great, gaping maw of a cave opening yawns before the two of you. Relief floods through you as you realize you might have a place to camp out for the night. Frisk bounces excitedly on your back. You laugh.

"I guess you want down?"

Frisk nods eagerly and, once you set them down, runs ahead into the cave. Your eyes widen and you take off after them, your heart beginning to pound.

"Wait! Frisk, wait up!" Cursing (you wince as it echoes through the caves), you fumble with your cellphone, eventually tapping on the flashlight app. The light reflects off glistening, faintly glowing vines crawling on the walls. The beam manages to catch the tail-end of Frisk's striped sweater as they dart excitedly around a corner. You sprinted faster, dread burrowing in your stomach. "Frisk!"

(There you go, now that's determination!)

You whip around the corner, desperate to catch up with Frisk. Your gaze flickers up, barely registering the great, open room. All you can see is Frisk, wobbling, off balance at the edge of the deep, gaping chasm tearing through the ground not two feet around the corner you and Frisk had just barreled around at high speed. Much too close to stop in time before falling in.

Frisk looks over their shoulder at you, eyes wide with confusion and fear and help me save me please help me as a stray vine catches their foot, sending them over the edge of the abyss. You reach desperately for their outstretched hand.

"Frisk!"

They say that time slows down in events such as these happen. In reality, it's more that you simply didn't even have to consider your decision to throw yourself over the edge after the child. You had climbed that mountain intending to die quietly, without any kind of fanfare. Despite Frisk's appearance, which had honestly made you rethink your decision, it looks like you were going to end up dead one way or another.

"At least," you think as you grasp the kid's oversized sweater and manage to haul the sobbing child into your arms, "I can die attempting to save Frisk."

You tighten your grip around the kid and twist so they would land on you on impact. You tuck their head into your chest so they don't see the ground rushing to meet them. Their tiny hands latch onto you tightly and they sob. You grit your teeth.

Frisk had cried for help.

And you were there.