"My child!" Toriel cries out, rushing out of Papyrus's house to scoop Frisk up in her arms. "I had been worried half to death over you! Are you all right?"

They squeak but don't struggle or protest, and when she sets them down, they hold onto her arms and look up at her fretful face. Her expression melts into relief before their eyes, and she kneels down to hug them again even more fiercely.

"You are unharmed... I am overjoyed to see it!"

"I'm sorry I made you worry," they murmur, feeling guilty. They don't think that emotion is just Chara's, at least. "And I'm sorry I lost your vase..."

"I appreciate your apology, but the important thing to me is that you are safe. There are other vases, but there is only one you, Frisk."

They blush and glance over her shoulder at Papyrus and Sans, who wait with varying levels of patience on the porch. "Th-thank you... Um, I'm sorry for worrying you both too."

"What?! Me, the great Papyrus, worry?! Nonsense!" Papyrus declares, all but jogging in place. "The emotional bedrock of this household would NEVER worry!"

"Is that why you called Frisk like ten times?" Sans teases, grinning like usual, hands in his pockets.

"Sans! I just did that to help Mrs. Toriel like any good host would!"

Toriel releases them to hide a smile behind one paw. "He is correct, you know," she tells Sans with a sparkle in her eye. "You have been a splendid host, Papyrus. I daresay I have never felt more welcome in another's home."

"Nyeh heh heh heh!" he chortles, cheekbones turning rosy.

Frisk smiles too, already feeling better. Intellectually, they knew their friends wouldn't be angry at them, but emotionally, dread had lurked in the back of their mind until now. It hasn't quite been defeated yet, though, and they take a deep breath and pat Toriel's forearm. When she leans back to gaze at them, they give her a small smile.

To ease into it, they start, "Gerson says hi."

"Oh!" She blinks twice, red eyes wide. "My goodness! That is a name I have not heard in a long time..." Her lips purse. "He... was courteous to you, I trust?"

She means, he didn't try to kill us, did he? Chara translates. Frisk nods.

"That is good... I am glad that he is well, then."

"We talked a while. He gave us a lot to think about," Frisk continues. "And so... um... can we talk? There's a lot we need to tell you."

Toriel blinks again, but doesn't question their pronoun usage. "Of course." She eases up onto her feet. Offering a hand to them, which they accept, she turns to the skeleton brothers. "Excuse me - may we borrow one of your rooms, please?"

"Certainly, Mrs. Toriel! You can use my room - up the stairs, first door on the left!" Papyrus volunteers. He sets his fists on his hips and glares down at Sans. "Because SOMEONE ELSE can't keep THEIR room clean!"

"Hey, I know exactly where my sock collection is. That's plenty clean," Sans replies, unfazed.

"Some of your socks don't even bend anymore!"

"Nice. Fossilized edition. Makes 'em more valuable."

"SANS!"

Toriel laughs into her free hand, and Frisk grins too. They don't know if the brothers had intended on it or not, but that helped ease the mood even more. Sans winks at them as they pass by, and they suspect the two probably had.

Once up in Papyrus's room, Toriel eases herself onto the bed and Frisk climbs up to sit next to her. For a moment, quiet hangs in the air between them; then Toriel takes a deep breath, squares her shoulders, and turns to them.

"Well," she says, "I am ready to hear what you have to say to me."

Tension twangs Frisk's spine and their heart begins to race, and although they know it's Chara's feelings making their body react, it's hard not to get caught up in their nerves too. They take a deep breath of their own and criss-cross their fingers, inspecting their nails for a moment as they let each of them collect their thoughts.

"I think you probably know already," they begin slowly, "but I'm not alone in my body." They look up at her. "Chara is in here too. They have been since I fell down here."

It's a little off - when they think back, they didn't hear Chara's voice until after Flowey first tried to kill them and Toriel saved their life - but it's close enough. Besides, it would be difficult at best to explain something that happened in a different timeline on top of their body-sharing. Judging by how tears well up in Toriel's eyes, though, she believes them. It's a relief to both of them, and less of a surprise than either would have thought. Looking back, she's probably suspected for a while. It reassures Frisk to know she decided to wait for them to approach her with the truth on their own time, though Chara remains uncertain of themself.

"I see," she whispers. "May I... speak with them, please?"

The child bows their head; when they lift it again, an unnatural smile fixes itself on their face, and they fidget while still keeping their hands clasped in their lap.

"Greetings," says Chara.

"I had been afraid to hope, but - is it really you, Chara?" she whispers. "Is it truly...?"

They avert their eyes. "I'm sorry I never got to knit you that Mrs. Mom Lady sweater."

With a choked sob, Toriel wraps her arms around them. Chara stiffens, then relaxes in gradual measures and lifts their hands to clutch at her dress.

"I can scarcely believe it," she murmurs, weeping. "How did this come to be? Why are you sharing Frisk's body with them?"

Chara leans their head on her shoulder. "It's hard to explain; it just happened. One day I woke up and I was with them. But that's not what I wanted to talk about. I..." They pull away, eyes averted. Tone stilted, they continue, "I must reveal something to you about me. About... the day Asriel and I died."

Toriel pulls away too, eyes still damp but now also puzzled. "...I am listening."

They curl their fingers into their palms and seek comfort from Frisk. Frisk gives it, a soothing warm cinnamon-apple cider scent that permeates their mindscape. Then they force themself to meet Toriel's eyes and explain the plan to her.

It's hard to keep looking her in the eye. As they tell her about the prank-gone-wrong buttercup pie and how it gave them the idea to poison themself, about the journey to the other side of the barrier, and about Asriel's part in it all, her expression shifts from puzzlement to astonishment to horror, complete with hands held over her mouth. When the horror settles, her jaw clenches, and although Chara knows she won't strike them, it's hard to hold back a flinch. Bile in the back of their throat, they conclude with how they'd tried to force Asriel to kill the humans of their village but had failed, and how Asriel had died choosing peace. Toriel's eyes are wet again by the time they finish, and so are Chara's.

"I understand if you hate me," they conclude stiffly, trying to ignore their blurry vision. "I know you hate Asgore now for the humans he killed. I would have killed many more if Asriel had let me have my way. And..." They swallow hard. "And I do not feel sorry for that. I never told you or Asgore this before, but I hate humans. I always have. We deserve to die for everything we have done."

Her expression turns stricken, or at least they think it does; it's hard to tell with how much their sight wobbles.

"But I did not mean for Asriel to die. I swear it. And I wanted revenge. But I also wanted to free the monsters. I swear that, too. I-I wanted to show you the sun again." Oh no - their tears are overflowing, and they can't stop it. They duck their head; they can't look Toriel in the face like this. "You all told me I was the hope of humans and monsters, but. That is not true. There is no way someone. As violent and disgusting as me. Could be the hope for anything. I was always afraid of it. But I k-knew it as fact after I poisoned Asgore. The b-best I could do. Was use my life. To set you all free. That is all I could ever be good for. But I failed at even that.

"I destroyed your family. I robbed the monsters of their hope. I ruined everything for everyone who ever did me any kindness." A laugh bubbles up from their throat, light and fragile like spun glass. "And for that... I am sorry. I am sorrier than I can ever express..."

Even if she never forgives them for what they've done.

In truth, they don't expect her to. Back when she'd gotten furious over Asgore getting sick from the buttercup pie, all they could do was laugh at how much of a hateful failure they were. Wasn't it funny? As funny as the one about the kid who slept in the soil. She'd calmed down eventually, but they'd always suspected the bond between them had permanently broken. Though it eases it somewhat, even Frisk's worried affection, smelling of vanilla incense, can't smoke away Chara's fear and self-loathing. If Toriel does hate them, it'd be what they deserve, and thanks to Frisk's conversation with Gerson, they've prepared themself for that. They're more worried about how it might affect Frisk's relationship with her. But...

"Oh, my child," Toriel sobs, drawing them into her arms.

They tense in confusion, thrown by this. Is she trying to hug Frisk out of sympathy for having to share a body with them? But even Chara knows that doesn't make sense, and they tilt their head up, blinking rapidly.

"I am so sorry, Chara," she continues, stroking their hair as she weeps. "I am so sorry that you felt you needed to do that for us. I knew that it might be a burden to a child so young to be held aloft as the hope of monsters and humans, but I had no idea how immense that burden was for you, or how heavily it had been weighing on your heart."

"I - i-it is fine. I never told you," they murmur, glancing away as they slowly wrap their arms back around her.

"It is not fine," she insists. "I know you never quite viewed me as your mother, but as your foster caretaker, it remained my duty to look after you and your well-being. To think I did not notice how greatly you were suffering... how could I have been so blind? It is my fault and Asgore's that you believed you could only repay us by choosing death."

"I... But I... all of this is because of me..."

"That is untrue. I will not deny I disapprove of the decisions you made. But we were your guardians, and we overlooked your pain. If you believe that everything is because of you, then know that in turn is because our ineptitude." She squeezes them a little tighter. "I am deeply, deeply sorry, Chara. If there is anyone I may hate, it is myself for failing you."

It's too much. They break into streams of tears and bury their face in her shoulder, sobbing. Toriel cries with them as they hold each other, stroking their hair and back, even now more concerned about their mental state than her own. Before long, she pulls them into her lap, and they drape against her, finally unafraid to let themself go.

Eventually, both of them quiet save for the occasional sniffle. Chara senses Frisk within, and they're grateful for that when their head otherwise feels stuffed with cotton.

"Chara?" Toriel murmurs. When they make a small noise of acknowledgment, she continues, "May I ask you a few things?"

Though they'd rather not, they pull away to straighten their spine and nod once.

"You said that you hate humanity, but you appear to get along with Frisk. Do you two have an understanding, or...?"

They nod. "Frisk is... an exception. Don't worry; I won't hurt them."

"Would you hurt another human if you were to meet one again?"

Chara takes a half-breath and clicks their teeth, eyes averted. "I... I don't know. I don't think so. No, I wouldn't," they conclude. "This is Frisk's body, and they don't want to hurt anyone. I want to respect their wishes."

Thank you, Frisk whispers.

And... I'm starting to wonder if maybe some of the other kids in my old village were like you and me, they reply silently.

"I see... I am relieved to hear that." Toriel pauses. "You said that you would not have regretted murdering the humans from the surface...?"

"Back then, yes. If it'd been just me," they reply, tucking their head under her chin. "The adults, at least, deserved it. I'm sure they went on to hurt other people. Maybe even other children like me." They dig their fingers into her dress. "But... I never should have tried to make Asriel kill. That was wrong, and I regret it. I would undo it in a heartbeat if I could."

"I see. Then between Frisk now and Asriel's memory, there is no way you would ever do such a thing again. Am I correct?"

Given the previous timeline, Chara doesn't know how to answer that. But Frisk emanates the same sentiment, and that reassures them. They nod.

"Thank goodness..." Toriel clears her throat. "I have one last question for you, Chara. You were able to return somehow..." She hesitates, and though they know what she's going to ask, they still wait for her: "Is... is Asriel...?"

They shake their head slowly and echo Flowey's words: "Asriel is dead."

"I... I see."

"I'm sorry."

"I am sorry, too." She rests a hand on top of their head, and when they look up, she draws them close again. "There is much for both of us to regret... but at least I have you again."

"Tori - Mrs. Mom," they murmur, fidgeting. Calling someone so kind and loving just 'Mom' had always felt wrong on their tongue. "Just... just so you know, Asriel didn't like my plan. He tried to talk me out of it a few times, but I wouldn't listen."

"I am not surprised. Asriel always was smitten with you. He would have walked to hell and back if it meant capturing your heart. I expect he would not have liked any plan that necessitated your death."

Chara feels their face heat up. I feel stupid now, they complain to Frisk, embarrassed.

It's okay. It's really hard to imagine someone could love you when you don't even love yourself, Frisk replies. I get it.

And they do get it. Asriel had told them once that they were the only one who truly understood him, but Chara thinks the only one who truly understands them may be Frisk. They wonder, hiding their concern, if that's a betrayal of their love for Asriel.

Toriel heaves a sigh then, pulling away her arms and letting them have their space back. "Thank you for telling me the truth, Chara. It hurts, but I appreciate knowing. May I ask what you and Frisk intend to do now?"

"I think you can guess," they reply.

"You intend to confront Asgore and have a similar discussion with him, do you not?"

Chara nods. "Frisk still wants you to come with us, and I agree."

Her lips purse, and she glances away. "I do not know how helpful I would be. Asgore would not listen to me when first I spoke against his foolish war. I do not expect he will be any more open to reason now."

"You'd be surprised," Chara replies. "We've been to New Home. His kitchen is littered with recipes for butterscotch-cinnamon pie, and his fridge has a bucket of snails in it. Without a doubt, he misses you. I think if you talked to him again, he would listen to you this time."

Toriel considers this in silence: a good sign, considering the reluctance on her face.

Chara waits a moment, then wonders, "Do you... ever miss him?"

"No. But... sometimes, I find I miss the person he used to be."

They lower their gaze. "...May I ask you something?"

"What is it, my child?"

"You... um... what we said earlier... the way we both apologized... D-does that mean you don't hate me?"

She softens. "Of course. You are my child, after all."

"But what Asgore did isn't that different from what I did," they insist quietly. "What's the difference between him and me?"

"Ah." She pauses a beat. "It is a very simple difference. Asgore is a grown adult, who is well aware of what the repercussions of a war against humans would be. You were - are still, perhaps - a ten-year-old child, burdened unfairly with the pressure of a prophecy of the salvation of an entire race. Your circumstances are worlds apart."

"...Even if I also wanted revenge?"

Toriel is silent for a moment. "Chara," she says after it passes, "do you want me to censure you?"

They tilt their head away. "When Ree and I made the buttercup pie for Asgore, that was an accident. I didn't know those flowers were poisonous. But you were furious..."

"And so it does not make sense to you that now, over a matter that you did on purpose, I am not angry?"

They nod.

"I suppose I cannot blame you. Of course you would be confused by such a contradiction." She smiles, the expression wan. "The truth of the matter is, I am angry. But I recognize that you have suffered as a result of your actions, and I am satisfied that you regret them and will not do such a thing again. I do not see a need to compound to your unhappiness."

"The same could be said of Asgore."

She pauses. Then she sighs, smile fading. "...You are right. Perhaps the difference is that I have spent all this time grieving for you. The joy of having you alive again is enough to counterbalance whatever else I feel about your confession." She crosses her hands over her chest. "What is more, I have tried in vain all this time to save the human children who fell into the Underground like you... However angry I may be, I cannot bear to direct it at you."

Chara swallows hard. It's so tempting to leave it at that. They really, truly want to believe her, and Frisk inside radiates certainty that she means it. They're 99% sure she means it too, but the remaining 1% of doubt demands they reiterate their greatest sin in the plainest terms possible: "I killed Asriel... He's dead because of me!"

Her eyes glisten. "Then let us grieve his passing together, Chara."

And with that, it's finally enough. With a choked sob, they throw their arms around her neck and squeeze her into the tightest hug they can manage. After she settles from her surprise, Toriel reciprocates. The two remain that way for a long time.

Flowey droops away from Papyrus's bedroom window to brood on the conversation on which he'd eavesdropped. So. Mom - Toriel - the old hag - really did let Chara off the hook. If she did, Asgore will almost definitely do the same. He always was softer on the two of them than she was. And Chara didn't lie, did they? They told her exactly what he told them: that Asriel is dead. That's the truth. Asriel turned to dust a long, long time ago.

So why is he so frustrated?

Asriel always was smitten with you. He would have walked to hell and back if it meant capturing your heart, Toriel had said. Hah. How right she is, and she doesn't even realize it! And it sure was funny how quick she was to make the blame her own when Chara was heaping it all on top of themself. Like mother, like son, he guesses.

He peeks back in through the window, and his resentment grows a little more when he sees Toriel and Chara still holding each other. It's so stupid. Chara sure tried their hardest to make her mad at them, didn't they? Except not really. If they REALLY wanted to try their hardest, they'd tell her about last timeline, when they slaughtered their way through the Underground. About how they and Frisk killed her twice. If Chara's going to leave him out of it, then shouldn't they come clean about everything? If Toriel and Asgore both forgive them, if Chara and Frisk pretend that the resets never happened, where's that leave him, huh? Just a creepy weirdo sapient flower with the memories of a dead boss monster.

He wonders what would happen if he knocked on the window just now. He wonders what would happen if he tore it and half the wall down with a hailstorm of bullets. He does neither.

If Asriel is dead and Chara is (nominally) alive - if the monsters accept them - where does he belong? What's his place in this mess? Does he just... pretend the resets never happened, too? Smiley Trashbag never talks about anything so Flowey's 99% sure he won't out him, and Chara and Frisk obviously won't talk about it either. Who else knows? Alphys might've figured it out after bringing Chara down to the secret lab, and while she's normally excellent at keeping secrets, after her change of heart, she might have blabbed to Undyne and Papyrus. Ugh... This is all such a headache.

If only Chara and Frisk would just reset this stupid timeline! What do either of them need anyone else for, anyway? As long as the three of them are together, that's all the friends any of them need. That's all the friends...

Voices start up again, and Flowey pokes his head back up to furtively watch, vines clinging to the shutters that hold him in place.

"Now that I think on it," he hears Toriel say, "when Frisk asked me this morning to re-forge your dagger into a trowel, that request was actually from you, was it not?"

Chara nods, smiling slightly as they wipe their face with the back of their hand.

"I had wondered." Her smile is fond and wistful. "Though I had feared to hope."

"Can you do it?" they ask.

"I will do my best. I know how important that worn dagger was to you, after all. I do not think I ever saw you without it," she replies. "May I ask how it came to break?"

They tilt their head to one side, fingers criss-crossing. "I broke it myself. I don't... want to be the person who thought of it as a 'real' knife anymore."

Flowey thinks back to that moment, and something inside him aches terribly.

"I see. Then I must make sure to fulfill your wishes."

Their smile grows. It's different from the fixed, tense thing they wear when they're upset and trying to hide it; Flowey can tell. "Thank you."

Toriel stands up from the bed, and they follow suit. "I must return to the Ruins to begin preparations; I doubt Sans or Papyrus have any reference books on blacksmithing. Would you like to come with me, or would you rather stay here for now?"

After a moment's pause, Chara replies, "It's okay with us either way. We know you'll be busy, but there's more space at the Ruins, and we can stay in our room while you work." They pause again, then add, "Frisk says it'd be nice to have a sleepover with Papyrus if he's okay with it, though."

She chuckles and holds her hand out. "It certainly cannot hurt to ask. Shall we go?"

They nod and take her hand; when they next blink, their eyelids barely lift out of it. "OK," says Frisk.

"Oh! Welcome back," utters Toriel, opening the door for the two of them. "You two change places quite easily - I was a little surprised."

Frisk giggles, but their response is lost on Flowey as they leave the room and the door shuts. He slinks away from the window and sinks to the snowy ground, pulling his vines with him as he goes. When he burrows and resurfaces, it's in the space under the floorboards of the first story.

The conversation he overhears isn't anything new or unexpected. Toriel's going to leave to make Chara's trowel for them, is it okay if they and Frisk stay, Papyrus enthusiastically accepting and immediately rushing into the kitchen to make pasta for the upcoming slumber party, Sans offering to walk back with them and help Frisk bring their overnight things... Normal, everyday, friend-and-family stuff. Boring stuff. Stuff that's not for Flowey the Flower.

Right. It's not for Flowey at all.

It doesn't take long for Frisk to go and come back, probably because of that trick the stupid skeleton uses. When they return, it's midway through one of Frisk's jokes - weird, Flowey thinks at first, until after the punchline, Trashbag laughs, and Frisk reveals it was a Chara joke they passed on. Given how both Chara and Sans said they weren't really friends, it's an unpleasant surprise when Sans praises them for it. Papyrus interrupting then to invite Frisk AND Chara to join him in making dinner doesn't make it better, and the rancid cherry on top is how happily Frisk accepts.

If he had blood, it'd be boiling. It's so unfair! Sure, Flowey could probably pop up in front of the front door and ask to join in, but like he'd want to join a party that has Smiley in it. And besides, the two of them together would probably ruin everyone else's fun and stress Chara and Frisk out more. Ugh. Ugh. Chara thanked him for telling them the truth, but Flowey's no idiot; he knows how much it upset them. He also knows that it's only after Toriel that they calmed down, and only now with Papyrus and Sans that they're cheering up. It's so unfair. Just because he's only the remains of Asriel doesn't mean he can't be anything for Chara -

Are you "Asriel"? Or are you "Flowey"?

Oh.

I killed him. I killed my best friend, and I can never take that back!

"Oh," he realizes.

Why didn't he realize it before? It was so obvious. Toriel can give them closure by forgiving and reassuring them. Asgore can commiserate with them about the blood and dust on their hands. Sans can assuage their guilt by judging them. Even Papyrus can distract them by being totally unrelated to their past. But Flowey can't do anything for Chara anymore, because he already told them Asriel is dead, and they made it clear make-believe won't cut it.

"Flowey" can't be what they need.

Because he's not "Asriel."

Dew beads at the corners of his eyes. Darn it, darn it, darn it, darn it... I should've lied! I should've pretended! I have his memories. I could've faked it! Why didn't I? His head hangs. No, they would've seen right through me. I'll never be the "real" Asriel. Not so long as I don't have... a... SOUL...

And then it clicks.

What was it the otherworlder had said? That his last chance to take the human SOULs is coming up?

What if he did get those SOULs?

What if he used their power to get more and more until he could have a SOUL of his own? Once he had enough, he could be himself again... right? Flowey's mind races. He might need every single SOUL in the Underground to manage it, but that's not a problem. The only company he wants is Chara's and Frisk's. And if he could have them both all to himself - if he could seize control of the timeline - then he'd never lose them or have to share them ever again, would he?

It's tempting. It's so tempting.

But is it wise?

"Hey, otherworlder," he whispers.

His shadow, barely visible thanks to faint light peeking down through the cracks in the floorboards, sprouts a scarlet eye and matching grin. Though he can barely hear himself over the commotion above his head, a voice emanating from it promptly replies, You Rang?

He shouldn't be surprised. He isn't surprised. She was probably waiting all this time for him to call her. Something we have in common, Flowey muses before shaking the treacherous thought away. They have nothing in common. She's NOTHING like him.

"You didn't answer my question from earlier," he says. "Let's say I follow your advice about grabbing the human SOULs. What do you get out of it?"

Technically You Didn't Ask That, But Let's Not Be Overly Facetious. What Do I Get? Satisfaction. Theoretically, Anyway.

He frowns. "Satisfaction how?"

Hmm, Well. You Say Asriel Is Dead. But Is That Really True?

The non-sequitur throws him. "What?"

Didn't You Just Convince Yourself Of That Because It's Less Painful That Way?

He gawks at her. Then he bristles. "Excuse me? I happen to know me better than you do, pal," Flowey hisses. "I'm a vessel for Asriel's memories. That's it!"

You ARE Your Memories, Though. A Person's Behavior, Desires, Flaws, Everything - All Of These Things Take Shape From What One Has Experienced. Losing Chara, Losing Your SOUL, And Becoming A Flower Were Major Traumas That Impacted Your Personality, To Be Sure, But That Doesn't Mean You Stopped Being You.

He gapes, momentarily flabbergasted. Before he can gather his thoughts and spit out a barb, she adds, But That's Just My Opinion.

"It's a stupid opinion," is the first thing that pops into mind and out of his mouth. "And what's that got to do with your 'satisfaction,' anyway?"

What, You Don't Get It? Haven't You Ever Spent A Timeline Testing Things Out Just To See If Your Character Theories Are Correct?

...He has. He spent quite a few of those on Papyrus, in fact. It took him a long time to get bored of him... but eventually, he did. He decides to ignore that. "And your character theory is that I'm not a vessel, that I plain am Asriel?"

Yup.

Intriguing. Flowey sets aside his irritation at her insistence that she knows him better than he does to ponder it. When things started out, he was very similar to Asriel. He tried to help people out - solve their worthless problems, listen to their inane worries. But who he is now is pretty distant from who he used to be. That weenie Asriel died refusing to kill people. And how many dust bowls has Flowey bathed in? Sure, okay, it wasn't an overnight thing, he can trace a natural progression between Point A and Point B, but... "I'm too different," he concludes. "I've changed too much."

And You Don't Think You've Changed Again Since Meeting Frisk And Reuniting With Chara? You Used To Be A Lot Quicker To Call People Out, For Example.

"What, you mean like how you're only here to distract yourself from your total lack of friends?" he snaps. "Or how you're obviously only approaching me because Frisk and Chara won't put up with you anymore?"

Right, Exactly Like That! Or That Time You Said To Chara That At Least You're Both Willing To Kill Everyone Yourselves, Which Is Better Than The People Who Are Curious About What Happens But Won't Do The Deed Themselves. The First Time I Saw That, I Laughed And Said, "Yup, That's Right. You Sure Pegged Me, Flowey."

...That's a weird thing to say. He files it away under "Potentially Important" and says, "So, what, now you want to watch me kill everyone all over again?"

Now I Want To Help You Kill Everyone All Over Again. What Do You Say? Partners?

He barks out a laugh. "Partners? Me? And you?"

Sure. We Both Want The Same Thing: For You To Be Asriel.

"Frisk and Chara would hate that. What's the point in me being 'me' again if I can only do it by teaming up with scum like you?"

Maybe You Should Do Something They Hate. Aren't They Doing The Same To You?

That stings a lot worse than he would've expected. "They're not trying to..."

Let's Be Real, Flowey: That Doesn't Matter To You. You're Hurt All The Same. You Called Me Because You Want To Be Convinced. Isn't That Right?

He laughs, a sound somewhere between mocking and self-deprecating. That's true. Darn it, that's true. Golly! She sure has him pegged.

And just like that, it dawns on him: she isn't nothing like him.

She's nothing, like him.

"No wonder you're a friendless loser," he mumbles, head hanging.

Haha. For The Record, I Have Friends. I Just Have No Faith In Friendship Anymore.

He narrows his eyes at her, a tight smile fixed on his face. "Yeah? Why's that?"

That's A Long And Boring And, Above All, Irrelevant Story. The Point Is, Even After All That, I'm Still Me. So Therefore, You Too Are Still You.

"You're seriously pathetic. You know that?"

I Do Know That. I'm Also Thoughtless, Two-Faced, And Hypocritical. So Are We Doing This Or Not?

"...You know," he says, "I don't like you. I don't like you at all. And I hate you being anything like me, when the two people I actually care about hate your guts. But I have to admit: your honesty is refreshing."

That's Fine By Me. I Came Here Aiming To Do The Wrong Thing, After All.

He glances to one side. Aiming to do the wrong thing, huh. Going along with her is the wrong thing to do; he knows that. But if he can be Asriel again for Chara, and contain the otherworlder for Frisk - if the wrong thing ends up with a right result - then don't the ends justify the means?

"Okay," he agrees, making his decision. "Let's go."