The night's blade had cut down the dusk. In the harmless bedroom loomed a purple light, aided by the stars and the sun's absence. The blinds were shut, yet the human child could not leave the ambience unnoticed. Night had never been so cruel and threatening in the sunless, snowy underground. To be accustomed to such uneventful nights down there was barely harder than breathing, in the sheer lack of pollutants.

It was not the first time Frisk stood over their brother's bed. Ever since arriving on the surface, nights had proven quite difficult. Some were sparingly peaceful, but most were unbearable, full of paranoia and imagination. All the valiant efforts to sleep alone, but nothing ever felt as peaceful as the Underground. The ends of some nights left Frisk questioning if they had made the right choice.

And here they were, standing over the one reason - the sole motivation to make those choices. All these nightmares, horrors, and visions, but without Asriel they wouldn't exist. Perhaps Frisk would live with Toriel. But to lose a sibling, whether or not in the same timeline, was a nightmare itself.

"Az?" Frisk whispered, their breath hopefully dissipating into his ears. They placed a shaky hand on his shoulder, slowly moving it with a grip ever so loose. His ability to sleep when necessary, none of it made sense. If anyone was to feel regret, it was the goat himself, but to sleep more peacefully than Frisk only suggested they were more guilty than he. Guilty, perhaps, for knowingly doing wrong, for intentionally going against Sans' request. What was worse, all the hard choices, all the sacrifices, and all the pain was for the once soulless being. Some would call him a traitor after his late sister, but Frisk called him a hero. The monster had it the worst, so much so that Undyne's recklessness, Sans' fatalism, and Alphys' anxiety did not amount. A killer in his posthumous form, but the more he murdered, the more his true form would regret.

That all seemed like nothing now, because he could sleep. Eventually, however, slumber always loses to a hand on the shoulder.

"H….Mom?" he whined, unable to handle Frisk's gentle force.

"No…" Frisk mumbled regrettably, returning their hand to the side. The guilt seemed to grow every time.

"Dad?"

"Dad's not even here."

"Uh," he spat out, his voice trailing off. "Wait, Frisk?"

"Ding ding."

Asriel finally opened his eyes, peering over the far side of the bed and noting the time. As his head returned back to them, Frisk could see the concern in his eyes. "It's 3 AM," he said, in firm, yet concerned tone. "What are you doing up?"

Frisk simply moved their hand to the back of their head, scratching slowly as their face grew apologetic. An additional sin to wake up their brother for a seemingly selfish reason. "Do you uh...mind if I sleep with you? I'm just having trouble-"

"Trouble sleeping?" Asriel cut off. Frisk, having been interrupted, simply nodded. They expected he would reluctantly agree and promptly move over. Asriel never seemed like the one to question things, and Frisk never questioned why. He was naturally reserved, having lived through a myriad of lifetimes. Nothing more to see, nothing more to do. But a flower cannot experience what a monster can. Despite the repetition of life, Frisk knew this life was new to even him. The first time with hands instead of vines, let alone living on the surface. Adjusting proved to be difficult. Thus came his reservation, shyness, and slight development of a "been there, done that" attitude.

But he was still Frisk's adoptive brother all the same, and no matter what traits he had assumed, a brother was a brother. And what brother wouldn't care for his sibling in clear distress?

Thus, he sat straight, peering slightly up at Frisk with a worried frown. "What's wrong?"

All the care he conveyed with such a simple question, and all Frisk could respond with was, "Huh?"

"D-don't act like this isn't the first time, Frisk."

"What do you mean?"

"Don't act like you don't understand, either." He rubbed his eyes, yawning. "After all, you said it yourself. Trouble sleeping. Just, you know, you can tell me, because I get worried every now and-"

"Oh it's nothing. Just some stupid timeline things again, you know." Trying to muster a casual smile, they took the liberty of plopping down next to Asriel on his own bed. "It's also really cold."

"Well, there's that." He chuckled, but not long enough to kill the gap of silence. Frisk had no plans to speak. They simply raised their eyebrows at Asriel, trying to suggest impatience and exhaustion. But Asriel only frowned, conveying not only his unwillingness to budge but also his worry. "What sort of 'timeline things'?"

"It doesn't matter. Anyway ca-"

"Yes it does."

Frisk shied away. "No, it doesn't."

"Yes it does," he shot back, laughing. "You can't do this secretive thing with me. Just tell me."

"No. It doesn't matter."

"Nothing just doesn't matter. Not if you're losing sleep over it."

"Don't be silly, I'm not los-" a large yawn interrupted them, prompting Asriel to show a triumphant smile. They just sighed, looking down again. Sooner or later, they felt his hand on one of their shoulders, offering a demanding, yet comforting grip.

"You can tell me," Asriel whispered. "You can tell me anything, Frisk."

"Maybe that's the problem," Frisk gave in, tilting their head to look at him. "I can tell you anything because you're the only one that'd believe me."

"Believe you that what?"

Frisk tensed up, looking away. "That I'll never reset again. When somebody's done it so many times, it's kind of hard to think they'll suddenly stop. Sans hates me. He thinks I'm lying through my teeth. Papyrus won't go a day without asking me to open up to him. Alphys gets scared around me and Undyne flashes these menacing looks at me, like she's onto me." They turned their head, looking at the closed bedroom door as if it were wide open. "Even Mom and Dad act weird around me. It's like everyone knows I'm tossing their lives away each reset. Th-they're not supposed to know, but somehow I feel like they do. Sans though, I'm sure he knows, and he hates me for it. He wants me off the face of the Earth."

"Mom and Dad do-" he stopped, moving closer to Frisk and putting an arm around them. "You're overreacting."

"I can't help that. I feel like a traitor. Off with my head."

"Well, why did you reset so many times? There had to have been a reason, right?"

"Asriel…you know the reason."

"N-not really."

"It was because of you," Frisk snapped. "That's the problem. You're the only one that can believe me. Nobody else understands the effort I went through to finally realize I had to give away half of myself to save you. You try telling them that, and they won't change. Sans calls me a liar behind my back, thinks I'll reset anyway just because I want to. The rest don't understand to begin with. It took me twenty timelines, and now they all act strange and scared around me, and…" Frisk trailed off. Suddenly, they threw their arms around Asriel, breaking down into sobs. "Y-you're the only one that understands, Asriel. That'll never change."

Asriel reciprocated the sudden embrace, rubbing his hand across Frisk's back as they cried over his shoulder. He let the while pass as Frisk tried to recuperate. Thirty minutes had passed, allowing time for not only the conversation but also the aftermath. Finally, maintaining his tight, comforting grip, Asriel simply whispered, "Of course you can sleep here."

Frisk let out a sigh. "Thanks, Az."

With that, Asriel lay down again, scootching over to one side of the bed. Frisk shuffled under the blankets beside him, sinking into his shoulder as he kept an arm around them. At once, their breath relaxed and they felt their own heart rate peacefully lower.

He was so much more than a shoulder to cry on.

Yeah, I'm back. RPing is a thing...