5. Write poetry

By the time that the last movie is over and the credits are rolling, and Anji is leaning to look up at the ceiling, trying to pretend that she hasn't been sobbing her eyes out, Chris and Nic have already fallen asleep, and you're just on the verge of it yourself. Martha stands up, brushing crumbs of your butterscotch-cinnamon pie off her shirt, and Terra uncurls herself from the top of the couch.

"Well," she says in a low voice as so not to wake the others, muffling a yawn. "That was cool. Thanks for coming, Frisk."

You blink yourself awake, and start to sit up. "Um, yeah. It was. I should probably get back- it's pretty late, and-"

"You can stay if you want," Anji says, with a bit of a watery smile- she's still not over Thorin's death, it seems. "It's kind of a tradition that we have an impromptu sleepover afterwards."

You consider for a moment- everyone's kind of nice, and you really wouldn't mind staying, to be perfectly honest. But then you remember the awful nightmares you sometimes get, and shake your head. "Wouldn't want to impose," you say, hoping you're being polite and adult-like. You realize that you're trying to act like Asgore would, and that makes you smile a bit.

"Sure," Martha says cheerfuly- she's always cheerful, it seems, which reminds you a bit of Monster Kid, who's probably still back with the rest of the monsters, trying to attend university without the use of arms. He seems to be managing pretty well, though. "Come back over anytime. You're really cool, Frisk."

You beam at her, feeling actually wanted amongst humans for possibly the first time in your life, and walk back to your apartment with a bubbling feeling growing in your chest that's almost... well, almost determination.

You go to sleep exhausted but happy, and wake at three AM, sweating bullets and fingers twisted tightly amongst the bedsheets so hard that your skin's turning white.
You breathe in deeply, and nearly choke on the overpowering smell of dust, clogging your senses and making you panic. You tumble out of bed, ripping the sheets away from yourself, and stumble over to the bathroom in the dark, not even bothering to turn the light on as you fumble for the sink handle. Water gushes out from the faucet, and it's boiling hot and scalding your skin, but you don't care as you splash it on your face. Droplets trickle down your neck and arms, and you slump across the tiles, panting heavily. You think you may have burnt yourself, but you don't care because you can't smell the dust anymore and you haven't killed anymore and everything's fine.

You get up after a minute, and pad back to your bedroom, scooping up your phone as you collapse onto the bed. Your fingers dart across the keypad, and you dial a number.

He picks up on the second ring.

"frisk...?" he says, sounding as if he's just woken up, which he probably has. "it's three in the morning, buddy."

"Sans," you breathe, and suddenly you can't speak, because your jaw's locked up and your chest feels really tight and you're having trouble drawing a breath in.

"kiddo?" he asks, and he sounds worried, so you hang up quickly, ignoring the almost instantaneous incoming call from him and focusing your attention on composing a text message. You type it with shaky fingers and manage to hit 'send'.

- I'm fine

You drop the phone, and stare at the ceiling, trying not to automatically form patterns in the blackness with your imagination. The phone beeps quietly from the mattress, and you glance down at the screen.

* didn't sound like it

You're calm enough now to write something slightly more coherent.

- Had a nightmare and I panicked. It's fine.

This time, there's an obvious pause between this and his next message.

* want me to come over?

- No. I'm fine.

You send the final message, throw your phone across the room to where it lands on top a pile of dirty laundry with a soft thunk, and bury your head in your arms for half an hour, rocking back and forth and trying not to panic or freak out. You wish you were back home with Mom so she could wrap you up in one of her warm, tight, goat-hugs and make you a cup of hot cocoa, which would make it all better.

No.

No, you're a responsible adult. You can handle this sort of thing. You're brave. You're strong.

You're determined.

You stand up on slightly shaky legs, and make your way to the kitchen, using the walls as support. You snatch up a pad of notepaper from the counter, and grab a pen from where it's been abandoned on the floor. Holding these tightly in your hands, you slump onto the stool at the kitchen bench, and stare at the topmost, blank sheet of paper. You kind of scribble loosely on it for a moment, and then begin to write.

It's sort of a poem, in the loosest definition of the word. More like word salad, really- random phrases and sentences strewn into a jumble of language that only vaguely reflects your feelings. You stare at what you've written, and then crumple the paper up into a ball, throwing it across the room. It bounces off the wall, and lands at the base of a lamp.

6. Kiss someone (properly)

It's a few weeks before you settle into any sort of proper routine.

Wake up, make breakfast, catch the bus to work, come home, do something with your friends, and sleep. Repeat as many times as necessary.

On Thursday, someone knocks on your door.

"Knock knock," says the by now quite familiar voice of Nic. You pause from where you're just about to open it, and grin.

"Who's there?" you ask.

"Orange."

You can see where this is going, but you play along anyway. "Orange who?"

"Orange you going to let me in?" he asks, and you laugh and open the door. "Hiya, Frisk."

"What's happening?" you say. "Does Terra need me for a thing, or...?"

"Nah," he says, and you both move further into your apartment. "Just wanted to say hi."

"Oh," you say, and you're about to say something else when the phone that you've recently installed rings, and then rings again, and you wince. "Um, sorry. If I just leave it, it'll go to answerphone..."

"No problem," he says, and the answering machine picks up the call. You've forgotten how loud it is.

"Please leave a message after the beep."

Beep.

"FRISK!" howls a familiar voice, and both you and Nic jump. "It's Undyne! Where the fuck have you been? You're not answering any of your calls! Everyone's getting worried! Hell, even Sans is getting worried, and you know how he is!"

Nic is probably staring at you, but you've shut your eyes, and you're trying to pretend you're somewhere else.

"Anyway," Undyne continues in a slightly more subdued voice. "Call back, okay? Then me 'n Alphie can come over to your new place and take you out for icecream or something! And I'll suplex another boulder for you or something!"

There's a pause.

"Yeah!" she adds, like she's trying to convince herself of something. "So just... call!"

There's another beep and the call cuts off.

You open your eyes, and try to steady your breathing.

"Wow," says Nic. "She sounded... loud. Maybe you should call her back or something."

"Not right now," you say, hoping you don't sound too hasty. "It's fine. She's always like that."

He runs a hand through his hair. "You have some weird friends."

You nudge him with a free hand, the other one being occupied with twisting at your shirt nervously. "Yeah, I do."

He laughs, and then goes quiet for a moment.

"Frisk," he says. "You're a really nice girl, you know that?"

You sort of feel half-hot and half-cold at the same time, and you bite your lip and don't say anything.

He's moving closer.

Oh, help.

7. Get a cat

You adopt your gorgeous brown tabby cat from the nearest animal rescue centre and name her Courier. She's sweet and docile, and lazes around your apartment whenever you're out, bathing in the sunlight and getting her fur everywhere. Despite that, you love her to pieces, and you think she kind of loves you back, in her own cattish way.

Whenever you have nightmares, Courier jumps onto your bed and nuzzles you until you calm down, and for that you're grateful.

She doesn't seem to keen on most of your friends, though, except for Martha. And that might just because Martha brings her tuna every time she comes over, although you're not really sure.

8. Fall in love

"I hear you snogged Nic last night," Terra says, eyes closed as she lies on your couch. You're making a mango smoothie for both of you as you bustle around the kitchen, so it takes you a minute to process for she said. You drop the knife you're holding onto the counter, where it clatters.

"How did you find out?" you ask, signing it was really weird underneath the table where she can't see the movements, even if she actually knew how to read ASL.

She blinks innocently, and rolls her eyes around from side to side. "Well..."

The penny drops. "He told you, didn't he."

"Maybe," she says with a lazy smile that says it all, really.

You bite your lip, pick up the knife again, and pass it from hand to hand with hands that most definitely aren't trembling in the least. When Nic had kissed you... well. It really didn't feel okay, or right. It felt... almost forced.

I hated it, you sign. I wish he would stop calling me a girl.

"It was okay," you say.

"Liar," says Terra, and yawns. "You can do better."

"I'm not sure if I want to," you say, and fill the blender with ice and coconut milk.

"What, you're ace or something?"

You pause, just about to start chopping the mangoes up. "Sorry?"

"Ace." She opens her eyes; sits up, swings her legs off the couch. "Asexual. You don't want to shag anyone, ever."

You shrug in her general direction, and make a noncommittal noise, setting the knife down and sweeping the mango bits into the blender. They slide in with a wet plop. "Maybe. No. I don't think so."

"You're hopeless," Terra says affectionately, coming to stand beside you as you turn on the blender. It starts with a dull roar, and the ingredients begin to combine. She slips her arms around your shoulders, and lets her hair flop over, tickling your neck. "But you're kinda cute, too."

"Thanks?" you ask, trying to squirm away, already uncomfortable with this. You don't especially enjoy being called 'cute'.

"No, really," she laughs, and squeezes you around the middle. "You're cute. Nine-out-of-ten would date."

Please stop, you sign with tiny motions. Stop it.

She leans over and kisses you, and you freeze in place, squeezing your lips together.

Help, you sign.

"Stop," you splutter, breaking away, and turning to slam the off button on the blender. "I'm not- I don't- just stop."

She gives you a disappointed sort of look, but takes the point and leaves without another word.

This isn't working.

This really isn't working in the least.

You shouldn't have done this. You should've stayed at home, because at least you don't have to pretend and lie and try to stop yourself from signing everything because it's part of who you are.

9. Realize that you were wrong all along and you don't need to be human to be happy

Again, he picks up your call on the first ring.

"yeah?"

"How soon can you pick me up?" you ask.

"five minutes ago, if you like."

"Come and get me." You breathe in, swallow, and start to hunt for Courier, phone still pressed to your ear. You feel a sensation of relief flowing throughout you. "I'm coming home."

A/N:

:D

Thanks for the faves and follows, and the reviews as well. This was a fun little story to write.

And, just because I love you all, and I love this recipe as well... (my own concoction, actually)...

Frisk's Mango Smoothie

Ingredients:

1 mango

Coconut milk (optional)

Berries (optional)

Ice cubes

Method:

Chop up the mango. It can be into neat chunks, or you can just rip it apart. Make sure not to kill any monsters whilst using the knife.

Put the mango bits into the blender, along with however much ice you need, and the coconut milk and berries if you want. Frisk enjoys blueberries and raspberries, but you can experiment with your own. If you don't have any berries/milk to hand, that's fine, you can just make a straight-up mango smoothie.

Put the lid on the blender and whip it all up. The smoothie is going to be fairly thick, so you can add water or juice to make it more liquid-y.

When it's done, pour it into a cup and enjoy.

(Serves 1 person. Best made in the company of your monster friends.)

(Just don't let Undyne anywhere near the blender.)

(Or Papyrus, for that matter.)