As a quick little warning, this has heavy spoilers for Undertale so make sure you finish playing or watching the game before you read on. Also, should just point out, Frisk is not mute but she does have a subtle manner of speaking, in case there's any confusion there.

Anyway, here we go.

Coming Undone

Chapter One: Reasons

"Frisk, dear, I worry about your hearing, as you seem to never understand me properly."

Frisk closed the front door to the house gently as she heard her mother's voice coming from the kitchen. Immediately, her mind began trying to piece together the things she'd done before leaving to spend time at the park this evening, trying to find a potential reason for Toriel's tone. Cringing, she attempted to sneak quietly to her room to escape another lecture, but with each creak of the floorboard coming from every small step she took, it became blatantly clear to her that getting to her room without being caught was a foolish, foolish dream.

"I suppose I have you to thank for this being near the refrigerator?" Toriel grumbled, appearing from the kitchen doorway with a small sock dangling in her fingertips. Her face was curled up in a disappointed pout, and her eyes almost spoke volumes of frustrated words for her without needing a voice of their own.

Frisk gulped, feeling her mother's gaze on her. "... U-um, just forgot..?" she tried.

It didn't work. "You expect me to believe it to be so simple, to forget a speech given to you on a daily basis?" With a huff, Toriel handed the sock out to her daughter, who nervously took it from her grasp. "Honestly dear, 'dirty clothes go in the hamper' should not be so easy to misunderstand."

With a sigh, Frisk began to make her way down the hall and to her room before she heard her mother loudly clear her throat from behind, a basket with an assortment of clothes jumbled inside held firmly in her hands. Taking the hint, the teenage girl groaned and let Toriel follow her through the house, stopping just outside of her room door. She flinched, hearing a familiar voice almost cackling from within, and with a heavy breath, she pushed her way inside.

"Not even five seconds between getting home and being chewed out. That's a record breaker if I've ever seen one!" came Flowey's sinister voice from a nearby desk. Sitting firmly inside of a dusty flower pot, the sickly plant had a proud grin plastered on his face, almost as though he were thrilled to hear Frisk getting the business from her mother. "Better keep your disgusting clothes where they belong, lest they be as forgotten as you."

Trying her best to ignore his words, Frisk lazily kicked her shoes off and shoved them just under her bed. Toriel followed behind her, giving Flowey a cold glare as soon as she made her way into the room.

"Good evening, creature," she growled. "Being as awful as ever, I take it?"

Flowey huffed. "Someone's happy to see me. How was dinner? Did you finally realize how awful your cooking is?" He put a leaf up to his mouth and chuckled. "Or maybe your denial is as strong as the smell from this little freak's shoes."

Frisk blushed and kicked her shoes even further under her bed.

"I still do not understand why you insist on having that wretched creature around," Toriel hissed, dropping the basket to the floor just beside her daughter's closet. "It certainly isn't because you are struggling for friends. If you were not so set in your choice, that thing would be burning in our fireplace by now."

After a nonchalant shrug from Frisk and a mocking sob from Flowey, she let out a long-winded sigh, crossed her arms just under her chest, and made her way around the center table toward the door. "Well, try not to stay up too late my child. It may be the weekend, but we have errands to run first thing in the morning, and I do not want you suffering with a headache and tired eyes all day."

Flowey threw his head back and gave a haughty laugh. "Oh no! A headache! However will Frisk survive!? CALL AN AMBULANCE!" As Toriel groaned and shut the door, the sentient flower calmed his laughter and paused for a moment, seemingly in thought, before spinning to his left and eyeing Frisk with a curious gaze. "Old hag has a point though... why DO you keep me around? I've just been sitting here wasting away for, what, a few weeks now? And yet you stay locked in your room with me all day, letting me remind you how pathetic you are. You must be a masochist, aren't ya?"

Frisk remained silent, pacing to her bed and sitting along its edge, her feet just barely reaching the floor. She lazily dug her phone out of her shorts and flicked it to life, noticing six missed calls from Papyrus, a status update from Alphys, and a text from Sans reading "hey kid, im goin to a party with a group of wolves tonight. id make them some punch, but i dont know howl."

"Or maybe you think this is some kind of torture for me," he continued, dancing playfully in his flower pot, "being forced to live in your room and watch you do boring, pointless teenager things all day. Homework, texting, drawing, music, clothes, boys... all worthless activities to fill your time while you wait to turn to dust." He waited for a response, but the girl still said nothing. "Or maybe you ARE a masochist, and you get some sick perverted thrill from my demeaning words," he laughed. "Well, you're in luck then buddy, cuz I don't have a shortage of degrading words to describe you. You just make it so easy!"

Frisk hung her head, her silence dragging on. His words seemed to be getting to her, and she quietly put her phone down onto her lap, the screen still displaying Sans' silly message with no attempt from her to respond.

"Either way," Flowey added with a cheeky grin, "I'm here, and even though I'm not sure why, it's good fun to treat you like the pathetic creature you've always been. And remind you of how alone you truly are, of course." His face contorted into a sinister expression, petals practically gleaming in a twisted delight as he noticed a slight change in Frisk's posture. "Oh, has that not been clear to you all this time? You're alone. You may think that you have friends and loved ones behind you, but you really don't. They don't care about you because they aren't your REAL family. So where is that family of yours? Oh, that's right, they NEVER cared, SO WHY START NOW!?"

Frisk began to tremble. Her fingers gripped her bed sheets tightly as her body shook and her eyes threatened to burst into tears.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" Flowey chuckled. "Funny how no one's come looking for you after all this time. We haven't heard a single word from anyone about this 'Frisk' girl. It's been five years and still nothing. FIVE YEARS. Seems like a long time for parents to not care about their daughter, huh? That's half a decade y'know. And you'll be waiting for them to come find you for the rest of your life, because you and I both know they don't ca-"

WHACK.

Flowey promptly shut his mouth as a lone shoe bashed him across his face, forcing a slob of spit to soar out of his mouth and onto the floor. From across the room, Toriel stood with another shoe readied in her left hand and a frown on her face. "You have a brave tongue for one so small and fragile."

"HEY, I'M JUST GIVING HER WHAT SHE WANTS, I BET SHE LIKES IT!" Flowey shouted, a leaf from his stalk reaching up to rub the wounded side of his face. "You have some real nerve to interrupt like that!"

"Frisk," Toriel called firmly, "follow me to my room, now."

The young girl's head snapped up, what few tears beginning to brim in her eyes being briskly brushed away with her sleeve. She hastily shot up from her bed, dusted herself off, and darted across the room to her adoptive mother.

Flowey huffed. "Looking for some late night illegal activities with Frisk, I take it?" he mocked before Toriel slammed the door shut. As his laugh echoed throughout the halls, Toriel gave a roll of her eyes and snapped her head down at her daughter.

"You and I have some things to discuss," she stated firmly.

Frisk gave a nervous nod before following Toriel through the house. As the two got further away from the teenager's room, she could feel a pit forming in her stomach and questions brewing in her head: Was her mom angry with her? Was she going to force her to get rid of Flowey, or was she planning to kill him instead? What if she asked for a clear reason why Flowey was even here to begin with, what could she say? Before she could even think of an answer for any of her worries, the two arrived at the master bedroom and made their way inside, and Frisk could hear a tired groan come from her mother as the door was closed behind her. The teenager took note of the diary sitting wide open atop the nearby desk, an entire page filled with elegant handwriting and a pen sitting just over the last sentence, still wet with fresh ink. Usually her mom would jot down silly jokes, but from what little she could make out, that didn't seem to be the case. Maybe she was starting to write down her personal thoughts now?

"Please sit down," Toriel ordered with a soft voice. As her daughter hopped on the bed and faced her with a curious gaze, she closed her eyes and took in a deep breath before moving closer. "You understand that this horrible creature in your room is feeding you lies, do you not?" she asked with a look of concern.

Frisk glanced away for a moment before meeting her mother's eyes again. She nodded, which is what she assumed Toriel wanted to see, despite her mind telling her the exact opposite. She couldn't shake the thought out of her head... Flowey was saying everything she'd been too scared to believe for so many years. What if her family simply never cared about her disappearance enough to search for her? She fell into Ebott's cave five years ago, and while there have been numerous reports about the child that helped return the monsters to the surface, not a single parent had stepped forward to claim said child as theirs. Surely, her mom or dad would've recognized her on the news by now? But nobody came. She received no phone calls asking for their baby to return home, no visits from scared, breathless parents wondering if their daughter was safe, no brother or sister sending out panicked messages begging their younger sibling to come home...

Nothing.

Still, she knew well enough that saying yes would put Toriel's mind at ease, and sure enough her mother smiled warmly at her nod of agreement. "Good," Toriel chimed. "Now maybe you can answer me when I ask why you went through so much trouble to bring that horrible flower back with you from the underground. It has been nothing but awful to you, and honestly my child, I cannot stand to hear someone say such terrible things to you..."

Frisk swallowed hard. Somehow 'he's your son reincarnated as a plant and I couldn't just leave him all alone' didn't seem like the most appropriate response. But she had to think of something, she couldn't just keep quiet and assume Toriel would be alright with no answer.

"An old friend..." she choked out.

Toriel arched an eyebrow. "An old friend? A friend who tells you cruel fibs and mocks you every day?" She crossed her arms and leaned against the nearby bookshelf. "I... question whether or not you understand what a friend is, dear. Sans is your friend. As is his brother and the others, but this flower..." she frowned, "... he is not a friend, not from what I've witnessed."

"Just jokes..." Frisk mumbled, hanging her head and giving the bed a solemn stare.

"Jokes should be funny, dear. And what he says to you is anything but funny." Toriel inched closer to the young teen, her hand reaching out. "Look at me."

As Frisk slowly raised her head, she felt Toriel gently grip her chin and lift it up until the two were eye-to-eye with one another. She could see the concern all over her mother's face, and it took all of her willpower not to burst into tears and explain everything bottled up inside... but she refused. She was determined not to reveal just how awful her days have been as of late, to never worry her mom with an explanation of the terrible , frightening emotions that have been swimming cruelly in her head ever since she made it out from the underground all those years ago. Flowey certainly wasn't helping, but she knew she couldn't live with herself had she left Asriel all alone underground as the monsters finally reached the surface, after so long in the dark. Letting Flowey leave her home and potentially torment others was another thing she'd much rather not happen, for sure.

But her mother wasn't wrong; Flowey did indeed torment her. He seemed to have no recollection of what happened five years ago, how he had revealed himself to be the king and queen's son and freed the monsters by breaking the barrier, nor did he even seem to care. He had asked once before how Frisk could possibly be alive if the barrier had been shattered; surely, her soul should've been sacrificed to make that happen. But all Frisk would give him were lies and stories, remembering full well just what Asriel told her that fateful day, in their final exchange...

"You have to promise me something," he had said, eyes sunken and glowing red from the tears streaming down his cheeks. "Promise me that I won't remember any of this... that you won't let me think of what happened here today. Of you."

Before Frisk had a chance to interject, Asriel had wrapped his arms around her again and quietly whispered into her ear, "I'm so tired of wishing things were different... if I remember you, all I'll want is to go back to feeling this way, feeling whole... I don't want that. I don't want that regret or longing anymore. Please, Frisk... please..."

His words had echoed through her head for the next five years, along with the painful guilt she felt from leaving him behind as the monsters returned to the surface. Asriel freed them, how could she leave him all alone in the dark of the underground for the rest of his life? She knew she couldn't, and so only three weeks ago, unable to cope with the guilt any longer, she had gotten help from Sans and Papyrus to travel back to the small patch of golden flowers just outside of Toriel's old home to greet Asriel and bring him back with her. As expected, he had reverted into his flower incarnation, spitting cruel remarks in her direction even as Papyrus dug him out of the ground with a plastic spoon. No thanks for freeing him after years of isolation, and no memory of the events that led to their freedom. Although her guilty conscious had a chance to breathe easy, she couldn't stop the ache she felt in her chest knowing Asriel had been forced to forget all about what had happened.

Now, with all these thoughts spinning in a cruel cycle within her mind and eyes staring into her mother's gaze, Frisk could feel the tears edging closer and closer to their breaking point. Her shoulders began to shake and her lips trembled, the pounding in her head and chest growing more and more loudly in her ears to almost painful volumes.

"Frisk, dear," Toriel stammered, holding her loved one gently, "please tell me what's wrong... Do you think I cannot see the pain in your eyes?"

Just say it, Frisk had thought. Just say it. Say everything. Let her know what's going on in your head, let her know how desperately you want out. Tell her you have nightmares every night about demonic spiders and disturbing abominations, tell her how much you wish you could've done more to save Asriel, tell her about the frightening voice you keep hearing whisper in your ear every night, tell her how every day feels emptier and emptier and you've just wanted nothing more than to escape this world...!

... But she refused.

"Had... a bad dream," she mumbled.

Toriel's expression softened ever so slightly as she bit her lower lip. She looked over her daughter in desperation, hoping she would have more to say, but the only noise heard in the room was the quiet creaking of the ceiling fan up above. Three seconds of silence went by, Toriel still gently holding on to Frisk's chin as she clung to the idea that there was much more to it than just a nightmare, but again, the teenager was silent. With a sigh of defeat, Toriel released her grip on her daughter's chin and stood upright. "... You know how much I worry for you, do you not?" she whispered. She felt Frisk shift slightly, but still no response. "... Well, at least help ease my mind by sleeping in my bed tonight. I do not want you near that wretched creature in your room right now."

Frisk nodded weakly, wanting to protest about being thirteen and getting a little too old to snuggle with her mother after a bad dream, but she didn't feel like disappointing Toriel anymore tonight. "Pajamas," she called out, before hopping off of the bed and making her way to the door.

She faintly heard her mom ask her to hurry back from behind her as she absentmindedly paced down the dark hallway. The brilliant glow of the moon illuminated the house just enough for her to see where she was going, and, as a child, she knew she'd be skipping up and down in delight at the presence of the beautiful full moon; of course, that fading interest hardly even crossed her mind nowadays. Before she could even make it into her room, she could hear Flowey chuckling quietly from inside, and, cringing internally, Frisk pushed her way through the door with slight force. Without even taking a single glance in his direction, she marched to her closet and began shifting through the clothes hung up neatly in racks as the sadistic foliage whistled behind her.

"You know something I don't," Flowey cooed, "it's too obvious. Been obvious since the day you yanked me from the underground and kept me as your pet."

Frisk bit her lip, opting to remain quiet as she slipped out of her shorts and leggings and into her pajama bottoms.

"Yes..." he continued, "you most certainly do. You don't enjoy pain, I can see it in how you quiver like a baby when I remind you of how unloved you are. I can see how unhappy you've been, just letting the days drift by and not caring about anything happening around you. You sit there and let me torment you, like a junkie that can't get enough of a fix. So, little freak, what is it? Why do you keep me here?"

Pulling a thin white tank top over her head, Frisk reached down and peeled off her socks, tossing them into a nearby hamper filled with other assorted clothes before turning and strolling to her door. She knew there was no way Flowey could force her to answer him, so ignoring him and getting right back to Toriel was the only priority in her mind.

"You can play coy all you like," Flowey growled as the girl briskly passed by him, "because even if I have to slowly choke you in your sleep and make you beg for air, I'll figure it out. I always have my ways." His face began to contort into a demented grin, and a sickly giggle escaped his lips as the moon's glow seemed to hide away behind the black clouds of night, basking the entire room in shadows. "After all, you and I both know how easy it is to get what we want... don't we, Chara?"

Frisk froze in place at the doorway. The mere mention of that name acted as a sudden red light in her mind, tossing her thoughts into a blender and scattering her senses in all different directions. She was tempted to turn and face him, demand that he explain himself and what he meant... but her instincts told her to get back to Toriel immediately, and pretend he never uttered that name. Frightened, she snaked her way through the door and slammed it shut behind her, heart pounding and sweat threatening to trickle down her face as she stopped to quickly ease her panicked breathing. Faintly, from behind the door, she could hear his sinister voice ring out once more...

"Sleep well, my little freak."