Thanks for taking the time to check out my story! This is the first thing I've written since I graduated college and I'm pretty out of practice, but hopefully you're able to get some enjoyment out of it none the less. This story was inspired by a foreign language Undertale comic I read a while back. Obviously, it isn't really possible to get a full grasp of the story without being able to read the language, but the basic premise is that Undyne is struggling to deal with the guilt of killing the fallen humans while simultaneously coming to terms with her feelings towards Frisk.

Now I know there is a lot of debate regarding whether or not Undyne actually killed any of the fallen humans herself. We will explore the depths of her involvement as the story goes on, but for now I will be operating under the presumption that she was at least involved in their capture.

Finally, if you don't like the idea of this pairing on a conceptual level, I totally get it. I understand that this story won't be for everyone, but since you're reading this, thanks for at least giving it a look, regardless of how you feel. With that being said, please sit back, relax and enjoy the first Frisk/Undyne fanfic on this site!

Fish Out of Water – Chapter #1

"It doesn't matter," Undyne told herself again and again. "They're all counting on me, I can't hold back!"

One more soul. That was all that stood between her people, the entirety of monster-kind and the freedom they so desperately desired. For most, returning to the surface had been little more than a distant dream, a faint hope that often turned to dread when the cruel grip of reality began to close in. After all, how long had they been down there? How many years had it been since they were cruelly cast into the Underground? How many believed that escape was even a possible? Why bother carrying on the delusion?

But now they finally had a chance. A seventh human had at last made their way into the Underground. He would be their salvation, for Undyne, for her friends, for all the people that were counting on her. At long last, she could be the one to make things right.

All she had to do was... claim his soul.

She sat atop her perch, a rocky crag just beyond the border of the Hotlands. It was the ideal spot. The vantage would give her a marked tactical edge over her opponent should she need it, if not, then the distance would allow her an opportunity to explain herself. She thought it silly, really. That she would need to justify her actions. It was silly, wasn't it? How could the life of one human, the very creatures responsible for their exile, possibly compare to that of every soul she had been entrusted to protect? It was ridiculous to even think about. And yet the more she thought about what she needed to do, the less certain she became.

"Damn it!" she shouted, driving her spear into the cliffside. She walked to the edge of crag and removed her helmet. Why was this suddenly happening? She was supposed to be ready for this. She had planned it all out in her head. This was supposed to be a triumphant moment for her people. So why then, as the human was no doubt quickly approaching, did she feel sick to her stomach? Unfortunately, she would be afforded no more time to consider her reservations, as the sound of footsteps brought her back to reality.

It was finally time. Undyne turned to face her opponent, but as soon as his form came into view, she froze. It was him. How had she not realized before? How could she have forgotten? In an instant, it all came flooding back to her. Their epic triumph over the vegetable hordes, the awkward mess that had ensued when she asked him to deliver her love letter to Alphys, but most of all she remembered how he had spared her life. Even when she had tried to kill him, he couldn't muster the will to harm her.

"F-Frisk?" were the only words that escaped her lips. He stepped out from behind the shadows of the waterfall and wordlessly smiled at her.

Without warning, everything went black. The crag, the waterfall, the ground beneath their feet, all of it had disappeared. They were completely alone. Undyne tried to step back, but as she did so something blocked her way. She nearly collapsed when she turned around to face the obstruction. A knight was standing before her, clad in the full regalia of the royal guard. Undyne instantly recognized the red plume of their helm. After all, it was her helm.

She assumed it was a trick, some kind of illusion, maybe one of Asgore's unconventional training exercises? But when she heard her own voice from behind the grate of the mask, she knew it was no trick.

"What are you waiting for?" it said. "He's standing right there!"

Her reflection picked up the spear that had fallen when the landscape had vanished and thrust it into Undyne's hand.

"Wait... What are you doing?" Undyne demanded, but her duplicate did not pause. The armored knight grabbed Undyne by the wrist and pointed the spear towards Frisk. "No! Stop it!"

It didn't matter what she said. The figure used their other arm to propel Undyne forward, the spear aimed directly at Frisk's heart. Undyne tried to fight back, but it was as though the spirit was inside of her, compelling her body to act against her will. It didn't matter how much she struggled, nothing would change the weapons course. Undyne felt tears welling beneath her one good eye, as the spear entered her friend's chest.

"No!" she screamed, but she was no longer in the Underground. As she took in her surroundings from a seated position, reality slowly began to take hold. The dark blue walls, the various personal effects lining her bureau, the moonlight just barely sneaking in through her curtains.

"Not again," Undyne sighed as she wiped the sweat from her forehead, realizing she was safe in her bed. It had been eight years since the barrier had fallen. Eight years since they left the underground. Eight years since she had first met that short, naive, wimpy little human. Of course for the most part, life on the surface had been a dream come true. Compared to the daily struggles of living underground, her new life mostly consisted of trying to figure out what to do now that her life's ambition had become a reality. But lately, her thoughts had become less innocuous. In the past few months, Undyne had begun to experience nightmares from her time in the royal guard.

There were several variations, of course. Sometimes Asgore was there, other times she had already slain her foe, but no matter what, one thing was always the same: Frisk was her enemy and she was forced to endure the guilt of knowing that she had tried to kill him.

Not wanting to dwell on the past any further, the young woman hastily tossed the sheets from her mattress and slid out of the bed. She was careful to sidestep the coffee table beside her bureau, a practice that had since become second nature to her. She still remembered the first few nights she was forced out of bed by her memories and how the dreaded piece of furniture so viciously assailed her ankles.

"I really need to move that thing," she whispered as she made her way to the kitchen. On nights like these, she found that a cup of tea would usually help to put her mind at ease. She grabbed a kettle from the sink and tossed it on the stove top. As soon as the water was at a boil, she made herself a cup and went back to her room. Sitting down at the edge of her bed, she tried to clear her mind while the beverage cooled. Unfortunately for Undyne, trying to push her memories away only served to intensify the effect they had on her.

If there was one thing Undyne missed about the Underground, it was that things were simple. She was a member of the royal guard, the royal guard carried out the King's orders and the King's orders were to collect the souls of any humans that made their way to the Underground. In doing so, she would be the one to grant monster-kind their freedom. But in the end, ironically, monster-kind would be saved by the very child she had been ordered to kill. It certainly didn't help that the kid could have just as easily left her to die if he wanted to. Just thinking about it pissed her off. She could still remember the dumb, little look on his face when he came back for her in the Hotlands.

Frustrated with the effect these thoughts were having on her, she grabbed the still steaming cup of tea and brought the liquid to her mouth. Undyne realized this was a mistake the moment the liquid made contact with her skin. The pain caused Undyne to drop the cup while simultaneously spitting the pipping hot liquid out all over her floor. Enraged, she glared at the puddle of spilled tea lying at her feet, a spear materializing in the palm of her hand.

"Coward! You would dare strike at me in my moment of weakness? Prepare to meet your Gods, tea!" she cried as she drove her spear into the puddle and (by extension) her own apartment. The wood cracked beneath the force of the spear which was now lodged firmly between two floor boards. "Oh, darn it..."

Undyne let out a sigh as she fell flat against her bed. This was getting out of hand. The nightmares, the memories, the late night episodes, all of it was more than she could deal with by herself. She turned on her side to avoid looking at the mess she had made. It was at that moment that she noticed a few of the books on her bureau had fallen over. Undyne wasn't terribly surprised. She got up to rearrange her belongings, hoping unlike everything else it might help to get her mind off things, but as she finished rearranging the books, she noticed a piece of glossy paper she didn't recall seeing before.

Undyne flipped it over and was immediately overcome with a feeling of warmth. She was certain she had lost it, she remembered turning her apartment upside down trying to find it. Within moments all of the feelings she had felt before, all the doubts and regrets seemed to disappear as she saw their faces again. Undyne ran her fingers across the photo, a tiny memento they had to remember each other by. It was hard to believe that after finally reaching the surface, her fondest memories would be of the last few days she spent in the Underground, all thanks to him...

It was in that instant that Undyne had an epiphany, she was dealing with her problems all wrong. How could she not have realized this sooner? Trying to bury her doubts was like running away in the heat of battle. She had to face this problem head on! But how, she wondered, would she actually go about doing that? It wasn't like she could just go back in time and make a different decision, no one could do that. But if just seeing that picture had helped to pick up her spirits, maybe seeing her friend again would help her move on?

It was ironic, Undyne thought, the person who would be the most help to her just so happened to be the master of running away from battle himself. Undyne wasn't sure whether Frisk would be up this late, or if it would even be appropriate to call him after so much time had passed, but she quickly pushed those thoughts aside. At this point, she was tired of making excuses. Undyne grabbed the phone from her bedside and after breaking through the last few barriers of apprehension, she dialed Frisk's number.

-o-o-o-

"Oh come on!" shouted Frisk. "That's three games in a row now."

"What, it's a legitimate strategy." said Sans.

"Back-drafting with a blue shell is not 'a legitimate strategy,' its just abusing the games item system so you can cheese a last second win," said Frisk. This was nothing new for them. Frisk, Sans and Papyrus had all remained close friends after leaving the Ruins. The skeleton brothers were happy to help Frisk navigate the various perils of teenage life. From the struggles of puberty to his first high school breakup, Sans and Papyrus were their to help Frisk the way only best friends could.

But that sort of support came with a price. And in Frisk's case, that price was suffering through loss after loss in Mario Kart. It didn't help that Sans was not only ruthless in his tactics, but meticulous in his defense of them.

"Is drafting a part of the game?" Sans asked.

"What? Yeah..." Frisk replied.

"Are blue shells part of the game?"

"That's not the point..." Frisk tried to rebut Sans, but he was cut off.

"Sounds to me like you're just upset you got dunked on," said Sans, maintaining a constant grin while he taunted his fallen opponent. Frisk was determine to press the issue, but his thoughts were interrupted when the door to his apartment swung open.

"I'm back!" came a voice from the living room. Sans and Frisk turned to see Papyrus had returned from the store with six bags of groceries, five of which were filled with nothing but dried spaghetti. "A little house warming gift for out favorite human!"

"Thanks, Papyrus. You can go ahead and leave it on the table. Now as I was saying..." Frisk looked back to Sans, who was already making his way towards the kitchen. "Hey!"

"Did you remember to get sauce?" Sans asked his brother.

"Of course!" Papyrus lifted the sixth bag up for Sans to see, but the bag had been torn open from the bottom with not a jar of sauce to be found. All that was left was a ripped bag.

"That's a ripped bag," Sans observed.

"What?!" Papyrus looked at the bag, realizing that his brother was telling the truth. Overhearing their conversation, Frisk groaned and made his way to the entrance of his apartment. He had a feeling he knew what had happened. Looking just outside his door, he saw the path leading to his home was littered with broken jars of tomato sauce, painting a red path all the way from the street corner to his building. "Papyrus, when you left the the grocery store, how many bags of sauce did you have?"

"Well, I left with three bags, but it was difficult to carry all of that and the pasta. So I..."

"You put it all in one bag, didn't you?" Sans asked, catching on.

"Well I..." Papyrus tried to muster a response. Sensing his friends unease, Frisk placed a hand on Papyrus' shoulder, offering him a warm smile.

"It's okay buddy, there should be enough sauce left over in the pantry. Thanks for getting the pasta," said Frisk.

To someone else, dealing with the skeleton's antics might have seemed like more trouble than it was worth, but not for Frisk. Papyrus didn't always have the brightest plans, but Frisk knew that every failure was the product of a true and sincere effort to make others happy. Frisk made his way to the fridge, grabbing an already open can of sauce and placing it on the counter.

"You guys wanna stay for dinner? I'm still not very good at the whole cooking thing," said Frisk. Papyrus beamed with excitement.

"Fear not, young human! I, the great Papyrus, will guide you in the perilous practice of pasta preparation!"

Papyrus was quick to fill a pot with warm water, setting it on the stove top and bringing it to a rapid boil. His culinary skills had greatly improved over the eight years since their escape from below. With only a modicum of supervision, Papyrus was able to prepare a hearty meal without even setting the building on fire.

The three of them bonded over their meal, reminiscing on the good times they had shared since coming to the surface. Sans had told them that he had recently gone to visit Toriel, who was now teaching a shared curriculum at her joint human-monster school. Papyrus recalled the time he had gone to see Mettaton in concert, only to have security chase him out. It turned out that climbing onto the stage to say 'hi' was generally frowned upon by the staff. But as they laughed over their shared stories, a thought occurred to Sans.

"Hey, when was the last time either of you saw Undyne?" he said. Frisk and Papyrus paused for a moment.

"I used to call her every day! But... after the thing with her and Alphys, she told me she needed some time and that she didn't want to talk for a while," said Papyrus.

"That was almost a year ago, wasn't it? You haven't heard from her since then?" asked Frisk. Papyrus shook his head.

"I wonder how she's doing. She seemed pretty broken up about the whole thing." said Sans. Frisk couldn't help but feel a little guilty. Undyne was his friend too. Papyrus had always done whatever she had said, it made sense that he wouldn't reach out if she told him not to. But why hadn't Frisk tried calling her? Sans had noticed that Frisk was no longer talking and tried to lighten the mood.

"Hey, come on guys, this is Undyne we're talking about. She's tougher than the three of us combined! I'm sure she's doing just fine," said Sans. Frisk didn't want to worry his friends, so he pushed his concerns aside for the time being. After dinner, Sans and Papyrus left to head back to their home a few blocks away. Frisk wished them well with a smile, but the moment they had left, the thoughts from earlier returned.

Frisk wasn't sure what to think. Had it really been a whole year since any of them had heard from her? Frisk hadn't really thought about it until now, but the fact that he hadn't realized was what hurt the most. He had let her down. Even if she didn't want to talk there must have been something he could have done. Even if it was just letting her know that she wasn't alone.

It was getting late, so Frisk made his way to his room. As much as he tried, he just couldn't stop worrying about Undyne. It felt like hours had gone by and he was still just lying in bed, trying to think of something, anything he could do to make things right. A few more minutes like this and he probably would have gotten up, but he was swiftly brought back to reality when he heard a sound coming from his bedside drawer. He was startled at first, but he quickly realized that it was the sound of his phone. Caught off guard, he wondered who could possibly be calling this late. He pulled the phone out and looked at the caller ID.

Incoming Call: Undyne

A/N: Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. Stay tuned for the next update and let me know what you think about the story so far.