Toriel chuckled. "We can bake a devil's food cake," she said with a smile, "as long as he keeps the devilry to a minimum." Charles just nodded, the monsters didn't react, and Victoria didn't see what was wrong with it, but Asmodeus raised both eyebrows and Frisk almost broke out laughing; if chocolate was the price of Charles not turning back into an omnicidal maniac, then the candy store at the mall would deserve a lot more business. ('Come and try our Satan Appeasement Delight! It tastes like fudge, icing, and innocent people not being brutally killed!') Charles continued savoring candy before he realized that everyone was watching him eat and casually put the package on the table. Asriel reached out first, magicking a piece into his hand, and Frisk got one with a cream filling. (Oh, that is good.) Victoria stood up on her chair to reach out (jingle, jingle, jingle) and her father handed her two of them.
Asgore reached out his great hand and plucked a couple of candies, one at a time. Between his fingers they looked almost like pebbles, and Charles laughed at the sight. "Dad, I'm glad you're not doing what you did the first time we had chocolate."
"I took one bite," Asgore answered his son, although there was a subtle smile on his face.
"One bite for you! That was most of it! Even Mom got mad at you!" Toriel grew the same subtle smile as her husband, remembering. "It wasn't even sweetened chocolate," Charles explained. "It wasn't even good." He reached out to snag another one.
"That wasn't the bite I remember the most," Asriel said, slowly, not sure if he should even bring it up. "That was the buttercups. And there was that time..."
"There were a lot of that times. Frisk, I really want to believe that I really am someone else with a bad person's memories. Because I.. because Chara did so many malicious things to Asriel, if I were to apologize for each one of those things.." He looked up at his siblings, then at his parents. "I'd be apologizing all night, just for the things I did behind the barrier. For everything I did here..." He took a deep breath, everyone's watching him. Victoria had tears in her eyes and could not have explained why. "Tens of thousands, and maybe more. That's not counting the brush wars and all the terrorism that started when I blew up that one thing." It was only long after his largest armies had been de-possessed that Charles understood exactly why the Middle East had become an even less friendly place than usual. "I can't ever make restitution for this. What am I going to say, when people ask? Some of them were children. Some were no older than her..." He pointed to Victoria, and the little girl started bawling uncontrollably, her father hugging her close to the sound of bells and sobbing. He looked like he wanted to tell Charles to stop scaring his daughter but was not about to make an ultimately pointless demand of an apologetic Devil. "And there's two more I'm watching, right now. I think their mother is LV 2. She's got AIDS. So do they. They're all going to die soon. Why were they born?"
"Because humans do not always foresee the consequences of their actions unless the result is clear," Asgore said. "And often, they do not care unless it impacts them directly, whether they have the capacity for a conscience or not. Which is why you must curtail your apologies to the public and why you must never be seen as a savior."
"Dad, nobody's going to see me as a savior! Even if they did, I don't understand why they shouldn't." Frisk didn't understand, either. Was Dad trying to say that the humans needed a devil to scare them?
"Oh, I get it!" Asriel exclaimed. "Charles, if people want to get in contact with you, what's the one way they know will work?"
"yeah. you don't want anyone else calling through the dead-monster hotline," Sans added.
"So I have to be the bogeyman. Yeah, I can do that."
"HEY, I'M SURE YOU'LL DO A GREAT JOB AT BEING EVIL! YOU'RE EVEN BETTER AT IT THAN I AM! I BET I CAN STILL GIVE YOU SOME POINTERS THOUGH!"
"Papyrus..." Charles started, shaking his head, and Frisk found herself agreeing with him. The skeleton didn't, couldn't, grasp the enormity of what Chara had done. Frisk found that she couldn't, either. "I never thought you'd grow up into... you." Not for the first time, Frisk wondered exactly how old all of them were or if that was even a valid metric after Flowey's constant resets. "Lay it on me, what are your pointers for being evil?"
"WELL, FIRST OFF, WHEN SOMEONE ASKS YOU FOR HELP, YOU CAN'T JUST SAY 'I'LL HELP YOU!' YOU HAVE TO SAY" He switched to his lawyer voice, which was overlaid with a hint of deep-bass supervillain. "What is my help worth to you? Are you capable of paying what I demand?" This, coming from a skeleton wearing a Christmas-themed scarf and mittens, stopped Victoria's crying and made her giggle. "AND THEN YOU SHOULD PET A CAT BUT SANS SAYS I SHOULDN'T HAVE ANY PETS AND SOME OF MY CLIENTS ARE ALLERGIC."
"Actually," Asmodeus pointed out, "most lawyers just say 'I'll help you' and then draft up a contract that bills the client for large amounts of money."
"OH WOW! YOU'RE GOOD AT BEING EVIL TOO! WE SHOULD START A CLUB!"
Charles forced a smile, trying to pay attention to the people in front of this body instead of the ones thousands of miles away. "Pretty small club, Papyrus. How can I even engage in camaraderie..." Frisk blinked at Charles' word choice, but then again, who knew who he was getting his words from? "How can I even socialize with you guys? I even tried to kill the person who saved you," he said, looking at Frisk.
"Okay, show of hands, who here has never attacked me?" Frisk asked, and Charles laughed, remembering Frisk's original adventure. He was surprised to see only Sans' bony hand and Victoria's tentative, small hand go up. All of Gaster's hands were flat on the table in tacit admission; Asmodeus' hands were holding his daughter. "See? You're in good company."
"Except for you," Charles said. "You're a saint."
"What- no I'm not! You should have seen what happened when I met my not-parents." Frisk was leaning towards the center of the table to talk to him, although the size of the furniture made it difficult.
"Your not-parents, hah. Great name for them." He was leaning forwards as well, and Gaster reached a hand (no arm, just a hand) past him to take some chocolate (chocolate-filled chocolate, that one), and it fit into one of his mask holes perfectly. "Don't pretend, Frisk. You didn't murder yours."
"I did worse, I made Az murder them. Twice." Frisk reached for another piece of chocolate. Strawberry filling!
"It's like what you tried to do," Asriel explained, and his chair levitated over towards Frisk's. He put his right arm around her protectively. "Only, Frisk actually did it."
"That explains the repetition that one time," Charles said. "What was the other time? The three, four in a row time?"
Asmodeus looked embarrassed. "That was when I did the dumbest thing in my life," Frisk answered. "I went to a magic show with only Az and Monster Kid. And I knew it would be actual magic. I was thinking, oh, well, I can always just go back! I SAVEd in front of the door, too. God, that was so stupid."
"I was dumber," Asmodeus added. "If I'd known what I was doing, I would have just flown up to His Majesty and told him everything the moment monsters emerged." Asgore nodded in reply, and took the chance to grab a piece of chocolate (he had never tasted coconut before and decided he liked it). Toriel reminded herself to have a great deal more available and began looking up recipes for devil's food cake on her phone. She kept a well-stocked pantry and was experienced at making substitutions.
"If we are making confessions," Gaster said, "I must admit that being outside the universe had warped me considerably. I am glad that Prince Asriel refocused my perceptions."
"Yeah, Az, that was you," Frisk added, nodding and putting her left arm around him. "I think Gaster would have won that if it was just me." She looked around. "But everybody I meet thinks everything is just me! I get why monsters treat me like that, and okay, the Count's pretty high, but I'm not saving a thousand people a day by myself!"
"When discussing fast cars," Asmodeus pointed out, "most people focus first on the engine, rather on the steering, suspension, or tires. We might be doing the actual work, as you put it, but only you make it possible."
"Frisk, the reason everyone expects you to save them is because you're good at it," Asriel reminded her. "And humans want somebody to save them, there's whole religions based on it. Then you come out of the Underground with deific powers." Asriel emphasized 'deific powers' by comically deepening his voice and wiggling his left hand's fingers in the air, his right still hugging his sister. "What did you think they were going to do? And now you've got the Devil... actually, that's the lie you should tell. Tell everyone you saved Charles and you're the reason he's not Chara anymore. They'd believe it!" He looked up at his brother. "And then you wouldn't have to worry about anyone coming after you because of what Chara did. We could go to school together."
Toriel abruptly looked up from her phone. "You will be going to school together regardless of what people believe," she informed them.
"Why?!" Charles asked. "Mom, you still don't understand. If I need answers about almost anything, I can just get them."
"And if my other children need answers about almost anything, they can use the Internet," she replied. "But neither they nor you always know the right questions." Charles nodded, acknowledging the point. Had he known the right questions, things would never have gone the way they had.
"Hey, wait," Frisk said. "Mom, is he who locker 2 is for?"
"He is indeed," Toriel replied, her gentle smile wide. She reached in and politely, delicately grabbed a piece of chocolate now that she knew that she was going to make more. Creamy lemon! She would have to use this in her own recipes.
Charles looked back and forth between his mother and his siblings. "What's locker 2?"
"Mom gave Az locker 1 and me locker 3," Frisk explained. "You're right between us."
Charles, who was about to reach for another piece, abruptly stopped and looked at his mother. "Mom, you... you saved something for me? Even while.. while Chara was out doing evil, you left me a spot?" His voice wavered.
"Your father had said that you would be the future. I had hoped that your future would be with your siblings," Toriel said. "I was right to hope." Out of words, Charles got out of his chair and buried his face in his mother's side, awkwardly hugging her as gently as he could. She picked him up and cradled him in her arms in much the same way that Asmodeus had cradled his daughter. "Although I am not sure if it is right to lie about how you returned."
"ALLOW ME, YOUR MAJESTY." Papyrus made a show of clearing his nonexistent throat. "WE DO NOT NEED TO TELL THE HUMANS THAT FRISK PLAYED ANY PART IN CHARLES' RETURN. WE SIMPLY HAVE FRISK INTRODUCE HIM AS HER SIBLING. THEY WILL BELIEVE WHAT THEY WANT. LIKE THAT? IT'S CALLED LYING BY OMISSION! WITNESSES DO IT A LOT." Frisk's parents agreed that it was the most prudent plan.
"Introduce me where?" Charles asked from his mother's arms.
"There is a charity event which we are expected to attend today," Asgore explained. "The humans there are upset by our absence, I imagine. Frisk has mentioned this, and I wonder it as well: How many of them have realized that we will in fact be present and on time?"
"And we will all be present, and I don't know if Asriel's robes will fit you," Toriel said to her son. While they were similar in height, Charles' bioengineered body was burly and had slightly different proportions than his brother. "I will have to make adjustments. Frisk, when did you SAVE?"
"Last night, before bed," Frisk answered. She'd chosen that time to let rememberers re-experience Christmas from start to finish.
"Good, although I fear I will not get much sleep. Charles, where were you?" Charles answered her, in detail, and while they agreed where to pick him up Frisk was struck by the absurdity of everything: 'When did you set a SAVE point for time itself,' the eight-foot-tall goat monster had asked. 'Now I need to know where your brother, the Devil, was so a skeleton can drive him home.' Asgore had been adamant in forbidding monsters' vehicles, including his own, from being searched on entry. "Now that that is settled, have you heard the story of the Little Red Hen?"
"Is that the one that goes 'If you don't work, you don't eat'?" Charles asked, eyebrows raised.
Toriel laughed. "For this, precisely. For this to be truly devil's food, I would like his assistance. And that of his siblings as well." The Dreemurr kids followed their mother to the kitchen, and Asmodeus and Gaster started talking about how the time travel spell must work (His Majesty feeling obligated to listen even if he did not fully understand) while the skeletons, lacking better things to do, promptly found spots in front of the television and Papyrus insisted on watching the last fifteen minutes of the Star Wars Holiday Special.
Frisk was half-expecting Toriel to hand her children aprons, but monster magic was an excellent cleanser and Dreemurr fur could tolerate detergent. It was only when Charles, at his mother's direction, opened the fridge that Frisk noticed it: he was still carrying his knife! Then again, Charles carrying a knife was like a heavyweight boxer carrying a plastic straw. And he was still wearing his locket...
"I'm not sure if this'll bring back painful memories, but what's in the locket?" Frisk asked, looking for the items the recipe demanded. She'd had to cook things before, but never in a kitchen as well-equipped as this one.
"Nothing," Charles said quietly. "Asriel gave it to me." He looked at his brother. "You said that we could put something in it when we did something good together. But we never did." Frisk winced. Yup, painful memories, saw it coming.
"And now we can. Frisk, we'll have to change those shirts, too," Asriel said, smiling and magicking the exact right amount of flour that his mother had specified into a measuring cup- Toriel tended to use precise fractions in cooking, right down to an eighth of a teaspoon.
Charles looked at him quizzically while pulling out an egg very, very carefully from the container. "Oh, you mean our don't-blame ones, yeah," Frisk said, pulling out a wire whisk and a spatula from the drawers. Toriel didn't use electrical tools, either. "Don't you ever blame my brothers. Either of them."
"Wear it to school," Charles recommended, holding the egg and focusing on it. Two tiny sections of reality decided they didn't like each other very much and he held the two neatly cloven halves of eggshell apart as the slashed yolk and white fell into the bowl.
"Deviled eggs," Toriel joked, heating up a saucepan full of cream, and her children laughed. Smiling, Charles went for another one, in defiance of the horrific Creator he'd envisioned. See, God? You made me a compassionless demonic hell-entity and here I am, using your gifted infernal power to bake a cake with the family I should have had from day one. Take your divine providence and cram it. Humanity was never my enemy. Neither was Frisk. You are.
"We all wear them to school, it's a set," Asriel said. "I think I have an idea for yours." He poured the flour onto the eggs and went to work on the butter while his sister weighed, with a kitchen scale, the exact right amounts of cocoa powder, cocoa butter, and sugar for the icing. Charles looked at the containers, smelled the deep, rich smells, and facts that he already knew came together for him; a few cacao farmers had gained some EXP, and he realized that his principal body was eating what they produced, so far away. (One had been a child slave, but the child, expressly tasked with monster removal, had managed to reach LV 6 and slavery was no longer an issue at that plantation or any others nearby. They'd even given the kid a machete...) He reality-slashed open another egg while his mother explained to his sister the difference between baking soda and baking powder and why she didn't want to get them confused in measurements, his brother using the whisk and some magic to blend the icing together.
Once they'd finished adding the myriad ingredients, Asriel offered his brother the whisk. "If you stir it too hard, you're going to splatter it," Frisk warned him.
Charles just looked at her. "You have no idea how much practice I've had this week in not splattering things." He took the whisk between both hands and spun it just fast enough to blend it well, scraping the sides, being careful not to scrape the ceramic bowl itself with the batter. Toriel poured the batter into different pans, one after the other, leaving her human children with the opportunity to scrape out the last of the batter with spoons.
"My turn," Asriel said, scraping out the batter with magic in much the same way he did Frisk's teeth every day. Four out of five dentists recommend magic for daily tooth cleaning, Frisk whimsically thought. The other one's afraid monsters will take his job.
"I want some!" Victoria chirped, running towards the kitchen, bells constantly jingling.
"There's raw eggs in that," Asmodeus said, and it was only after he said it that he realized the absurdity: his daughter was running towards the World Ending Mind (as one of his books had called Chara) while he complained about raw eggs.
"It's all right, I've got it," Asriel said, and concentrated: first to heat up, then to cool down. Victoria got a tiny ball of nicely cooked cake.
"We will not be cooking all the cake that way," Toriel said, smiling. "Run along and play for half an hour," the huge goat woman told her deific, reality-altering children and their sorcerous brother. "It will be finished when you return."
"Snowboarding!" Victoria cheered.
Anything to make the noise of that dress stop, Asriel didn't say. "I want to, but Charles doesn't have any gear," he said instead. "He doesn't even have any shoes now. Hey, where did you get those?"
"Come on. I didn't have anything to buy steel-toed boots with, so I just kicked through a wall to get them," he explained. "I didn't hurt anybody getting stuff I needed to get here." Which was true, if somewhat misleading; he had made heavy use of possessed people in the right places to get him across the Pacific Ocean, and while Charles had been helping his family bake the cake, that LV 6 boy with the machete had been hunted down with three men with guns, but he had heard them coming so now he had a bent machete and three guns.
"Now that you are here, you're going to need a whole new wardrobe, actually," Frisk said. She would have continued with about how he needed his own room, but she didn't want to bring up household renovations quite yet.
"Yeah, red and black," Charles said. "With a snowboard with fire and skulls and pentagrams and Latin all over it and a metallic demon head with spikes that has snakes coming out of its mouth. And the snakes also have spikes on them, and they've got fangs as long as their bodies and they're spitting acid, and the acid's got spikes on it too." He looked around at the stares and started laughing. "That was the first real joke I've ever told in my life, I'm sorry if it was bad."
Papyrus sheepishly put away his phone. "OH, I GUESS I SHOULDN'T COMMISSION THAT ARTWORK THEN."
"That's nothing, you should see what Azzy's final form actually looks like," Frisk said conspiratorially. Asriel wrapped his ears around his face in embarrassment.
"I know, I did see it! I was kinda with you, remember? Things were different before the barrier broke." Asmodeus and Gaster nodded at each other, knowing what Charles meant. "I want to see it again! Azzy, show everyone what it looks like!" Now he's calling me Azzy too?!
"Fine," he said, annoyed. "But not for very long or Frisk will pass out." He walked into the living room and became ASRIEL DREEMURR, GOD OF HYPERDEATH for a few seconds. "I never thought I'd turn that into a parlor trick."
"I never thought compassion existed," Charles said, and he forced a smile wide enough for Frisk to see his teeth in detail. That's messed up- they're all baby teeth! Well, yeah, he force-grew himself, however that works... She was not about to tell her brother not to smile.
"I never thought I'd be here, with you guys, doing this," Frisk said, and they all shared a laugh, and then she and Asriel saw their brother's laughter turn to tears as he stared at the floor in grief. Of course he wouldn't be able to get over it, not in a day, maybe not for a very long time. Frisk knew that she'd have a hard time understanding what he felt, and him being in many thousands of places at once couldn't possibly help. So, having absolutely no idea why she did it, she gently leaned forward and kissed him on the top of the head.
Victoria clapped and giggled. "man. i wouldn't have known what to do if i'd foreseen that," Sans said. Papyrus had one large tear coming out of an eyesocket. The skeletons' father had no idea what he was looking at. Asmodeus pondered the idea that he didn't really belong in this completely bonkers universe anymore and considered self-immolation as a suitable way to leave it. Asgore and Toriel just smiled, a deep and abiding warmth growing in their hearts.
Asriel just chortled, a bit of bleating mixed in. "Come on, you can borrow some of my clothes, I'll put your boots at least sort of back together, and then we can go make some snowmen," he suggested. "Victoria, you can go down whatever hill you want today, just don't get yourself killed or your dad will get mad."
"We'll just make the regular kind," Frisk said. "There's a snowman... a real snowman... okay, a talking snowman who gets freaked out if we make the Calvin kind."
"And when you return, I have a gift for you all," Toriel said, addressing everyone in the room. "I was originally going to give this game to you after the meeting, but I believe circumstances call for it." She opened a closet door and dug through a box marked 'Extremely Boring Knick-Knacks' to the place where she'd hidden it. "This video game contains no true violence, no profanity, and none of what are childishly called 'adult themes'. I believe that it'll bring all of us together, and all of us will enjoy the experience, feel an increased sense of love for each other, and heal the last of our hurt feelings."
"Really?" Charles asked skeptically. "What game's that?"
She held up the box with a smile. "Mario Kart!"