Chapter 29
Coping Mechanisms
That afternoon they share an extravagant dinner to send Alphys off, they dress nicely and chat over the sumptuous meal. Despite their differences, Sans too had gotten new clothes from Mettaton and begrudgingly wore them for the occasion. Afterwards Mettaton performs a few songs on the collapsible stage he has in the living room, when he's done he steps off to the others use the karaoke. When the time comes they wave goodbye at Alphys as the escort drives out of the estate and head back inside. Frisk takes a bath and heads off to bed early, too tired to do anything else. The dream they have this night is different and though they don't see anything disturbing they feel anxious when they wake up. They pick up the journal Mettaton gave them, and write; both to put it out of their mind and to make sure they won't forget.
April 15 2075
Last night was the first time I dreamt something else in a long time.I thought that I'd be happy when I dreamt something different, but I'm not. This scares me. I don't understand what is happening in it. I'm back in the black empty space, and Chara is there. The first person I dreamt about, with the smooth hair, pale skin and really red eyes.
But they're not alone anymore. There's someone next to them, but when I tried to talk to them I woke up. They had their back to me, they had brown hair and flowers on their hair. They were wearing Sans' coat. I think it's me. A mirror? I can't see my face in the dream and for some reason it scares me.
It's another day now, maybe today things will be different. It's with that thought they get up early and sneak out of their room. Though they're sure Mettaton must have cameras around the house and strictly forbade them from cleaning, they still take the times they can't sleep to clean or make things to eat. Frisk decides their host must've given up at some point, since he and Papyrus keep letting them get away with anything. They know why they're being so considerate, what they're trying to do; but rather than think about it, they busy their hands with work to quell the thoughts. Staying depressed won't do anyone any good.
After breakfast they call Flowey, he's getting ready to leave for Japan and can't talk much. Lately it seems like everyone is running around trying to solve the problem with the human souls. Frisk forgets sometimes, that there was actually a bigger problem behind Bliz's death, because it honestly feels like nothing else could've been as important. They leave their friend be and cradle the handlink in their hands, still feeling the urge to talk. They know they've postponed it long enough and are surprised when she picks up the phone before it rings for a third time.
"Hello, Frisk? I'm so glad you called…How are you doing?" Sylvia doesn't seem to mind, she understands why they wouldn't talk to her. It's her job to understand isn't it?
"I'm sorry I didn't call sooner." they say politely.
"Don't be. I'm glad you called when you were ready and not before. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about what Sans had done. I can't share the things he tells me with anyone, the same way I can't share the things you and I talk about. I know it affected you and for that I'm sorry, it was never my intention to hurt you." She says calmly.
"I know you were just doing your job…I had just found out about it and I was…upset."
"I understand, I didn't take it personal… Is there anything you'd like to share right now?" she asks, relief clear in her voice.
Maybe she does care. So they talk with her, it becomes easier as they repeat to themselves that it's her job to help. They couldn't take everything she did personally because she wasn't there just to be their friend. They tell her about leaving the house, about Bliz and about Dahlia. They tell her about their dreams and the way things are now with Sans and his brother. She listens and gives them advice as usual, it's relieving to say everything they think knowing they won't be judged or pandered.
"Now that you are in a safe place, with people that care about you, take the time to recover. Let yourself go through your mourning process, it's not something that will happen overnight and only you'll know when you're done. There's no need to force yourself to be cheerful or bottle it up."
"…Alright. I'll talk to Flowey later, when he's settled."
"That sounds good. You can also talk to me or Toriel. I don't think this is really the time to be concerned with your memories, since they seem to be returning gradually. So, please, focus on taking care of yourself. Follow Papyrus' advice about your physical health because it will make your emotional recovery easier. I sent you some exercises to practice expressing your feelings in constructive ways, try them out and let me know which ones worked best for you, when you can."
"I will…Thank you."
Papyrus is thrilled to be in charge of helping them stay healthy, and doesn't bother to hide it. He calls himself their personal trainer, even wearing a shirt with that says so. He has even synched their handlinks so that they have alarms for everything: when to get up, when to train and when to go to sleep. They wouldn't admit it at first but it's helping, even with the occasional nightmare they are sleeping better and have gained some weight.
It's been a little over two months since they've started living here and not only have they recovered they weight they'd lost: they've surpassed it. Though they have no muscle their dermal cartilage has thickened in some areas and hardened in others, giving their body an edgier appearance. Sans seems to have followed their lead and though he still has trouble sleeping, he also has gotten in better shape by training with them. It's as they're returning from one of those training sessions that Mettaton stops them suddenly.
"Frisk…could I speak with you for a moment?" he asks, rather quietly.
"Sure, what is it?"
"I have something I want to show you, if you would please follow me."
Frisk washes up briefly, worried at the lack of exclamations or flashiness in the robot. Mettaton leads them to his bedroom, the one where he recharges his battery, not where he sleeps with Papyrus, thankfully. He shows them to the elaborate couch in front of the window and sits next to them, no posing, no modelling, just sitting there. It's a little unsettling.
"As you know this body of mine…was made by Alphys." they nod, he continues, eyeing them warily before letting his body slide out its extra set of limbs and eyes. "I don't know if you knew this but originally I was a ghost monster. Ghosts are can take over objects and overtime if they bond with that object it becomes their permanent physical body." They stare at him, their one eye shining in wonder as they nod.
"I read about that, you mean like DJ Blook? I thought you were related but just happened to be different types of monsters."
He can't help but smile. "Yes, exactly like my cousin, and no, we're the same, only he hasn't settled in a body yet…What I was getting at is that this body, wasn't originally like this. I asked Alphys to make it so that I couldn't change forms anymore because originally…this body was made to be a weapon." He put away his extra limbs and stroked his stomach pensively before he could bring his eyes to theirs. "A weapon to gather human souls." he finishes. They frown at his words but say nothing for quite a while. When they do, they sound neutral but it still makes him tense.
"Did you…kill anyone?"
"…I did, yes. Many years before I first saw you, but most of their souls were no good to break the barrier…I gave up after my first two captures. I've always loved the flair of battle, but never really enjoyed killing. So I kept leaving my body since I wasn't bonded to it…But our king didn't like that; the other monsters were getting desperate, so more…drastic measures were necessary." he explains, the direction this conversation was going was becoming more upsetting for himself than he'd anticipated.
"What do you mean drastic measures? More drastic than taking someone's soul?"
"I guess you could say that…The next time I entered this body I became trapped inside it."
"It-you mean it became your body? Like, your permanent physical body?"
"Not exactly. Simply put, it was decided I would no longer be allowed to leave this body. Alphys was ordered to trap me inside this form, since this machine wouldn't work without my soul. The only difference was that now I wouldn't be the one in control. If I didn't follow and order they could just press a button and force me to. I was sent to Papyrus as a tool to help him find the last four souls we needed, that's how we met actually."
The orange fragment in his stomach glowed a little brighter, he seemed to find comfort in it. "Then fifty seven years ago I saw you for the first time. The last soul…" he pauses, his two visible eyes rimmed with tears. He looks so guilty. The worried look on their face turns hard when he finishes. He knows.
"You're going to tell me you didn't mean to kill me, aren't you?" they laugh bitterly, the feeling of angry righteousness seething in their chest reminds them of Chara for a second and they pause. They take a fake deep breath and let it out slowly.
They are not like Chara, they are Frisk. Frisk who is always kind, Frisk who can forgive anything. They realize that despite the bitterness, it's not impossible to forgive him, just like it wasn't with Papyrus. They can't even remember how many times Mettaton killed them, and they know that for him those moments didn't even happen. They relax marginally before they continue.
"It's fine, because I can't even remember you killing me…Even if I did it won't change the fact that in this time, you never did. You won't remember all the times you could've killed me and I don't know if I ever will, so it doesn't matter. I'm here right now and things are different." The heat in their voice tapers down into hard acceptance as they finish.
They see it clearly now. That's why it hurt so much for Sans and Flowey to hide the truth. Flowey and him were the only ones who knew everything. The only ones that shared what happened with them, and to ignore that truth, just feels like betrayal.
"Frisk…I…I am so very sorry…It doesn't matter if I didn't know about it because at some point another version of me hurt you, I tried to hurt you. Not knowing doesn't change the fact that it affects you, that's why I wanted to ask if you wanted to see…"
Mettaton's crying. Real tears, not the dainty things he dabbed away while watching a movie; but big tears that float away from his eyes, falling impossibly upwards, tears that make his soul flutter and his eyes dull. The last of Frisk's anger fizzles out. He's hurt too and in the end what good would it do to let him wallow in pointless guilt? They get his tissue box and bring it over, he seems almost timid now, as if made frail by the veracity of his emotions.
"I didn't mean to get so sidetracked but I wanted to explain the situation before I just put it out there. The truth is I pulled you aside to ask if you'd like to see the remaining data from…from that time." he looks them in the eye with a resolute expression.
"What data? What are you-" then it hits them. "…you recorded the fight? You recorded me when I…?"
He nods curtly. "I don't have the original video file since it was…confiscated. But I have bits and pieces from my own back up." he gets up and opens his cabinet, pushing some bottles aside to open a compartment and pull out a box. " They were taken out when I came to the surface and Alphys…returned my body to me. I can still open some of these, if you want to see them?" He opens the box, it's full things that look like small hard drives inside glass containers. He picks a red and yellow one and part of the inside of his wrist recedes to show a slot. He fits it inside and uses the lens on the palm of his hand to project images upon the wall. Images of the old Underground.
"…Show me." they say simply, taking his free hand in theirs. He squeezes it tight and starts going through the pictures one by one.
In the first they're nothing but a blotch of color next to a red sweater topped with eyes that glow like hot coals . Sans. He's carrying them on his back, they're lost inside a drooping coat and swells of flowers. Only their hair and the bottom of their face are visible, the rest is either fabric or flowers. Flowey is wound across their body, holding them tight against Sans as they scurry this way and that, teleporting and dodging. Though he looks ready to kill Mettaton, and does in fact attack him, Sans doesn't aim to deliver a finishing blow. In just a few slides the images are done, they've fled. Mettaton continues, skipping through images as he made his way back to Alphys. The doctor looks, for lack of a better word, unhinged. Her eyes are wide, dark circles under them, her mouth is snarling and even in the poor quality of the image they can see a line of dribble going down her chin. The lab is dark and dreary with animal specimens floating in jars or spread in a mangled heap in the operating tables. The images shift to monitors showing images of the entire underground, then there's caverns and finally a very familiar chamber in the ruins. Mettaton's hand tightens on their own painfully, it still doesn't prepare them. Sans is kneeling on a bed of flowers, head hunched over a pile of yellow blossoms and a coat. The tears they'd choked back pour out painfully as they stare at their own dead body in his arms. Mettaton doesn't stop the images but pulls out his other two arms and wraps them around Frisk. In the picture their face is covered in watery red and they know it isn't blood, but his tears. The pictures change to a crowd of monsters, they recognize the king because he looks like Toriel, they see Alphys and Papyrus. Then they see, through his eyes, the first time he sees the surface.
A glorious sunrise welcoming them all to a new world. The images turn blurry and rosy, the light of the sun mixed with his tears. They turn to him now, feeling sad and angry and in some strange way happy for him, for them all. At least they know their death wasn't pointless. Even so, was it really fair they never got to see it themselves until now? They didn't ask to fall under Mt. Ebbot, they didn't ask to have a red soul, to be the only thing standing between monsters and their freedom. They don't know what to feel or what to think and just let him hold them while they cry.
Sylvia was right, this was painful, but facing the truth head-on was eventually cathartic, even freeing. From that day on they stopped shying away from what they could find. Frisk put all of their energy into getting better, following the exercises she'd given them, even if they didn't seem to have a point sometimes, any little thing that brought them closer to being better was good enough. When they had a nightmare they would record it, calm down and go back to sleep. What was done was done, there was no point in lingering on it if it kept making them miserable. So they trained, they cleaned and cooked when Mettaton wasn't looking. They kept going, even if they weren't sure where they were heading just yet.
Dahlia's picture in the news is a grim reminder of why they can't leave the house, though it doesn't stop the urge to. It's been long enough now for them to have seen pretty much every part of the mansion. As summer comes New York they realize that the pool is for parties or decoration since neither Papyrus and Mettaton can swim. Though Papyrus assures them that as long as they use floaties they'll be fine, they have to agree with Sans for once and admit that with their body it's just easier to sink to the bottom and walk. They've taken to camping out in the backyard, letting Mettaton use his projectors to map out the barely visible constellations, even Sans has to admit it's interesting for a while. By the end of that week they've played most of the video games at least once; and all of Papyrus' board games and puzzles at least twice. The mansion is starting to feel like a prison and the only thing keeping their mind from plummeting into crippling boredom or depression is their books, training and the prospect of nurturing a better taste in movies in Mettaton.
For Sans it's a different story. Getting back into fighting shape after years of being depressed and later working as an electronics repair guy, has been the bane of his existence. Papyrus is relentless and not in the least bit shy to use dirty tricks in order to get him to workout. Both teasing him about his jealousy of Antoine and flattering him copiously when he succeeds. But after the first month his rivalry with the guard loses its charm; it's obvious the insectoid never really cared for it anyway, and his misplaced frustration wears off eventually. So now he's left alone with his thoughts and his garbled feelings. Still no closer to explaining them to himself let alone express them to Frisk, all he has left is bickering with Mettaton. That damn robot relishes every time he's able to get under his skin, but it's one of the only things that stays the same and he embraces it as the only constant in his life, feeling pathetic all the while. Even following Frisk around has slowly become more and more pointless; it's apparent in just a few short years they might not even need his help. They can look out for themselves at least. In the end it's all a tiresome cycle of whether or not there's any point of him being in their life; and whether or not he'll ever get the guts to ask them about it. That night, like many before it, he wanders around the house; either with insomnia or with the sheer stubbornness of not wanting to sleep. At this point he's hardpressed to find the difference.
The charger notifies Mettaton he's an hour away from a full charge and the sound it makes wakes him from his sleep mode. Maybe his cousin was right; a machine body had been a troublesome choice. Being able to dream while your body continues to conduct all these functions without your input was unsettling. Monsters dreams were a reflection of their soul, a way to see their innermost feelings manifest and better prepare them to manage those feelings. He read that humans dream to let part of their brain rest, and that their dreams are a movie made from scraps of thoughts, memories and sensations. It seemed a monster soul in a machine body had a mixture of both. His feelings seemed to control the data his machine brain would project as he dreamed, so the result was an odd mix of memories and feelings that left a metaphorical bad taste in his mouth when he woke. He gets up to make a midnight snack and as he walks back with teas and cookies in hand, he can't help but notice the faint reddish light at his periphery: Sans was up and about again.
"You do know we have guards 24/7 right? You should be resting."
The skeleton startles, his eyes lighting up for a moment before they recognize him.
"Can't sleep." he growls.
"I bet, what with all that paranoia and jealousy…" the robot says, savoring his cookies.
"What jealousy?"
"The one you have for Antoine, I see how you look at them."
"I'm not jealous of 'em, I'm just keeping an eye socket out fer Frisk." the skeleton puts his hands in his pockets and sits back down on the couch. "Uh-huh, and the fact they spend more time with the head of security than they do with you has nothing to do with it." he says, earning him the middle finger. The fact Sans hasn't teleported away tells him the skeleton might still be listening, so despite knowing this has an 87.6% chance of turning into an argument, he continues. "Being the wonderful host I am, I feel compelled to help you…But because I have a low tolerance for bullshit, I'm only going to ask this once: What did you do?" the robot asks, tapping his foot on the ground, which makes a muted clanging through his slippers.
"What are you talking 'bout?"
"Well, from what I've seen of Frisk, they're almost as sociable as my dear Papy." the skeleton makes a gagging sound that he ignores. "Yet despite the fact you survived the old Underground and lived together this entire time; they're keeping their distance from you. So I know you must've done something."
" 'S none of your business." he deflects.
"It is because you're living in my house, Sans."
"Couldn't wait to hold it over my head, huh tincan?" he glares dangerously.
So much for that 12.4% chance.
"Oh for the love of- You're five foot two, anything I hold is over your damn head, Sans! That's not what I mean. I mean that if you really give a damn about their well being, you'll fix this. How do you expect to survive this situation together if you can't even rely on each other?" he rants.
"…I know that, 's just-"
"What was it? Tell me what it is you did before we start talking around it in circles. It's infuriating!"
"Shaddup and I'll tell ya, trash can! Jeez!" the robot grinds his teeth, his extra eyes threatening to open. "…I didn't tell them that, back then, Papyrus and me…killed them. Many times actually, over the different timelines."
"Timelines?" he asks too genuinely.
"Don't fucking start with the crappy acting, I told Paps and I know he tells you everything, and you tell Alphys everything, and by now everyone probably knows about it…"
"Fine,yes. Yes he did and no I didn't tell Alphys. Frisk told her about it themselves…Hmm, let me guess: they found out about it by accident and now they don't trust you."
"Fuck off."
"Marvelous…Oh, you and Alphys have so much in common it's not even funny." the robot mumbles around his teacup.
"What's that got to do with anything?"
"Everything. First of all, you're both very smart for some things, but can be complete idiots in matters of the heart, and I know exactly why."
"I don't like to repeat myself either, so how about 'Fuck you' instead." he turns away but Mettaton cuts him off by stepping in front of him, too fast to avoid unless he teleports.
"What I mean to say is that you both hide things obsessively, like you think the people you care about will hate you if they ever found out what you've done." this makes the skeleton pause and he continues. " See it goes like this: you act like what they can't see won't hurt them, but in the meantime you're carrying all those secrets around and the one that gets hurt is you…" Sans diverts his eyes and the robot takes that as confirmation.
"And when they eventually find out, because trust me, they always do; they end up hurting even more. They're hurt because it happened and they're hurt because you lied about it. So in the end you're both hurt and for what? Pretending you were in control of their feelings or your own this whole time? Don't kid yourself darling, you don't hide things from others because you're protecting them…You hide things to protect yourself."
"The hell would you know?" he scowls at the robot expecting a smug look, but instead Mettaton looks sincere, his soul shining bright and steadily in its container. Sans can't look him in the eye.
"Because I know what your problem is."
"Yeah?"
"Yes. You just don't love yourself enough."
"Oh, so that's it? That's the best advice you got? I just gotta act like the sun shines out of my arse like you do? I don't think so." he scoffs while the robot takes his hand and drags him over to the couch. Once he's sure the skeleton won't go anywhere, Mettaton perches his mechanical body in perfect poise over the arm of the couch and finishes his snack.
"Let me put it like this. If Papyrus rejected me it would hurt, because I want him to love me, but not because I think I'm not good enough for him; I already know I'm utterly wonderful. But you, on the other hand, hide things from him and Frisk because you're afraid of rejection. Not just because you care about what they think, but because you believe you don't deserve their affection…even when they so obviously want to give it."
"What, did you download a psychology book or something? Gimme a break." he rubs his spine absentmindedly, tired from all the self-imposed guard duty, the tension around him and just the general bullcrap.
"I'm talking from experience. I've seen my friends and my fans suffer, fight and even having Fallen over this. I say it because I know it's important and because if you won't face the truth I'm going to keep slapping you in the face with it until you do! Papyrus deserves to see you happy! Do you really think his happiness is complete without yours!? Why can't you see how badly he wants you to be happy?! You're not an idiot so, goddamn it Sans, stop acting like one!" he raises his voice at the end, all three of his eyes open and glowing with anger and tears.
"…Welp…you, uh, sure like to talk a lot…" he grumbles uneasily, not used to see the other express his emotions so plainly.
"Why I-Goddamn it I swear-!" the whine of electricity fills the room as the robot charges his attack.
"BUT…I gotta admit you do have a point there." he concedes, hands up in a placating gesture, making Mettaton pause in surprise. He grubles warily.
"What was that?" The star crosses his arms, fingers clanging impatiently on his arm.
" I apologized already…told them the truth but they're still distant…I dunno what else…" he shrugs helplessly.
"I see…What exactly did you do when you apologized?"
"I, uh, told them what happened and that I was a fucking idiot-"
"They already know that, what else?"
"Shaddup…then I told them why I hid it from them. Told them I didn't want 'em to be scared of me or of Paps. Then I promised I wouldn't do that shit again…" Sans explains.
"That must have been difficu…wait, you didn't explain WHY you killed them?"
"No…I thought it was obvious, with being Underground and the barrier-"
"Oh my god, you ARE an idiot! What if they don't remember? Even if they did, don't you think they'd want to hear it from you?…And you say I'm selfish, at least I don't assume how others feel." the robot seems outraged.
"You just did that, like at the start of this conversation." he quips.
"No, I pointed out how you were acting, not how you were feeling about it. I have no idea how you feel about anything because you won't tell anyone!" he replies with indignation.
"…I know." Sans admits.
They try to finish the conversation before it escalates into anything involving lasers again and Sans decides to head off to sleep. But before he can leave the robot grabs ahold of his arm and keeps going.
"One more thing. If you really want them to forgive you, you're going to have to do something about your-"He eyes Sans from head to toe. "…presentation."
"I'm not letting you mess with my clothes, Metatton." he rolls his eyes.
"Oh no, darling. I'm not talking about just your clothes, I'm talking about all of this." he gestures to everything with a waving motion.
"Seriously, fuck you."
"Shut up, that's your brother's job. We need to do something about this whole 'I don't give a crap' attitude. Just because you act like you don't care, then care a little bit more than usual it doesn't mean you're being sweet. Newsflash: you're still a douche!" He's starting to go on another rant here, it's better to leave before he picks up steam. Sans tugs his arm away but Mettaton grabs him again, this time with two hands. Welp, now he's done it. The robot uses two of his arms to hold him and the other two to make dramatic gestures as he talks.
"You need to make a…a meaningful gesture, not only being honest but something that shows you can be caring and humble. Show them you're willing to better yourself for them. Everyone loves a good redemption story! "
"And you're gonna teach me humility…really?" he asks sarcastically.
"Of course! Learning to better yourself? That's what love's about, idiot! And I have plenty of experience in love, which is in part why I'm so wonderful! What you need is honesty; with them but also with yourself. And who could possibly do a better job at teaching you than me? I'm plenty honest AND caring to all my loved ones. After all how can I call myself fabulous if I can't show my love fabulously? " he says, positively glowing.
"Yeah, how can ya?" he drawls, practically hanging from Mettaton's arms as his brother-in-law starts to pace excitedly.
"I'm going to help you get your bony ass in shape. Mark my words, you're going to sweep that cutie pie off their feet!" he declares, laughing as if they've already won.
"Wait, wait, wait…what the hell are you talking about?"
"Because you told them what happened I guess you have accumulated some honesty points there but in order to get them to completely forgive you, you need to be entirely forthcoming when you apologize, no half assed truths…but what you may not realize is that it also helps if you can WOW them! But that's what I'm here for! I'll give you a hand, or four actually, with your apology so that eventually you can work your way up to that puppy love stage. Trust me, the sooner you get into it and out of it the better. It's sweet and you would think its the best part but then you get to the 'comfortable stage' and then later on to the 'know everything about each other' stage, you'll know what I mean. Oh, but after that is when the real drama sta-" the crazy train took off already and Sans was barely on it.
"Wait you think w-we're dating?" he asks finally catching up.
"Well…Yes! It's a little obvious, to be honest."
"What the fuck? No! We're friends, j-just friends! Why would I-I mean-Why would they-?" he stumbles on his words and on his feet trying to get the metal hands off his arms.
"Oh boy, you just lost some of those honesty points in my book. There's no point denying it, silly. I've seen the way you act around them and your soul too. They may not notice but I can. It's changed since they showed up. All that blue that keeps coming up when they're around." Mettaton raises an eyebrow with amusement, Sans blushes and a growls. "Fine! If you want to continue to wallow in self pity and ignore my invaluable advice, it's your loss. Buh-bye!"
Mettaton lets him go and sashays out of the room with a smug smile. It only takes two painfully awkward dinners alone with Frisk for Sans to crack as ask for his help; the bastard actually counted the time it took him to give in down to the seconds.
"I knew you'd see things my way, lover boy. Ready to shape up?" he props his legs on the table, one hand on his cheek, the other holding it at the elbow, like some sort of evil executive.
"I fucking hate you." Sans grumbles.
"Ah-ah-ah, what do we say when we want a favor?" he wags his finger at him, he just growls.
"Help me out and I won't tell Papyrus what really happened to his tank tops."
"Jokes on you, I already told him and made him new ones. Now, my kohai, I said…ARE YOU READY TO SHAPE UP?" he gets up on the table, music playing from his speakers as stage lights appear from a slot in the ceiling. He had this all planned, didn't he?
"Yeah…senpai." he chews out hating himself.
Mettaton leaps off the table and places a hand on his bony shoulder, the other on his own metal forehead dramatically as he goes off on another rant. Is he really that desperate to fix this?
Yes, yes he is.
Sans doesn't know how badly he'll regret this, but even he has to admit, he'd do just about anything just to make things with Frisk go back to the way they used to be, back when they trusted him.
