Chapter One: New home
"Okay, Toriel. I'll stay." Frisk sighed. "But you don't have to hold my hand anymore. I am thirteen, you know." Toriel seemed panicked. "No, I didn't know how old you were, and it does not matter how old you are. You are a still a child, and as such you are not safe here. Ever. I won't lose you. Not after Asriel and -" She cut off abruptly. "Here, I'll make you a slice of my famous butterscotch pie. A little welcome present." They were back at the stairway. Frisk hadn't really paid attention before, but flower vases were everywhere - by the stairs, on the dining room table, even in the hallways. It was really quite cozy, he thought.
"Why don't you grab a book to read while you wait?" Toriel suggested. "There's a bookshelf by the fireplace."
Frisk sat down in his new bedroom with the book that he had chosen. A History of Humans and Monsters. He must have grabbed the wrong one. Not that he was looking for any book in particular, but he certainly hadn't meant to take what seemed to be a college history textbook. He opened it. No, it was a college history textbook. Did Toriel teach all the humans that had fallen down before? He couldn't imagine that anybody would keep a textbook in their bookshelf for no reason. Frisk settled down into his armchair and flipped the book open.
Two Months Later
Frisk jogged down the pathway of the ruins, disturbing several neat piles of leaves swept into the corner. Crap, he'd have to ask Toriel for a rake later. After two weeks holed up in Toriel's house, she had finally insisted that he get out and get some exercise. Fine. He had never been much for exercise, but he could take it easy. He checked his phone - 5:02 - he still had some time to kill before heading back for dinner. Where to go?
He knew. It was probably a bad idea, to be sure, but he was going to do it anyways. The last month he had felt restless and inattentive, which he has excused to himself as the effects of his new home. But in his heart, he knew better. He wanted to get back home - his real home. He loved Toriel a lot, but he had a family to return to.
As he approached the doorway that led into the cavern, he felt the air grow warmer around him. Was it just his imagination, or was there a draft coming from the surface? Impossible, Frisk told himself. The surface was a thousand feet away. Any air coming from the top would have cooled on the way down. Of course, by all rights he should died when he fell down, but he hadn't, so who knew? He walked to the bed of flowers and cast his eyes upwards, trying to see the surface. There was a faint light coming from the top, and a distinct rustling of leaves, but nothing else that he could see. He was about to leave, when he heard the rustling sound. It was definitely not coming from the surface this time. He looked down, and nearly had a heart attack.
Another child was sprawled in the flowers, not five feet from where he was. Another human child. And Frisk walked closer, he could see a long, red gash along the length of the other child's shirt. They seemed to be breathing, but just barely; His breath came in short erratic bursts. Frisk dropped him and ran for get Toriel.