"Is momsy and popsy coming home soon?" Juleyard asked from his pencil drawing. "I can't help it. Popsy is following momsy, and I don't know why." Juleyard said. "Al?"

Al was busy putting a puzzle together. "This spot here."

Not there.

"Is too, it's yellow," Al said as he placed the piece. "Well, not quite."

Hammer it in.

"I would never hammer it in," Al complained. "Be nicer."

Pffft.

That's not smart, Flowey. Sans'll figure it out.

He's refused to look at you in days. He's too scared you'll find out he killed me. Makes everything perfect. Besides, I know how to handle Sans.

"His names Pop-pop, and this won't last forever," Al said to him again. "Once he knows you and Chara are kind of in me and Jule. Things aren't gonna be real smooth."

"I think Papyrus is more onto us than Sans," Juleyard said as he moved toward Al. "I try to act like myself as much as possible at the beginning of the day. Oh and at lunch too."

"Yeah, but nothing lasts forever," Al reminded Juleyard. "Eventually, they aren't going to be fooled. Then what?"

I don't know. I saved Frisk with my power and Chara's. He'll have to give me a break there, right?

"Chara did not ask for that," Al said. Chara tended not to be so interactive. She wasn't exactly happy with what Flowey had done. Al had always been able to speak telepathically with his brother. It was a skelebros thing according to his dad and uncle. But now, he didn't hear Jule. He heard Flowey.

Flowey had stolen Chara's power, and his power, and gave almost all of it to his mom to increase her chances of living. Which was great, but Flowey didn't quite do what he wanted.

Flowey told his momma that the next time she saw him, he and Chara wouldn't recognize her, and he was almost right. Flowey was still technically there, but the Flowey Al knew was fading away little by little in memory. He was getting closer every day to his living self. Asriel.

And Chara? Well, that was a whole other . . . thing.

So far, Al's momma hadn't recognized anything. She was too consumed with her own problems, just like Sans. Al and Juleyard wanted to tell, but at the same time, they didn't. What happened, it shouldn't have happened, and there was more to it than just voices. Ever since they each seemed to join. Flowey with Al. Juleyard with Chara. They seemed to be even changing each other. So, slow and easy would be the best way to handle it.

If they could keep their Uncle Papyrus in the dark, but it wasn't easy. A lot of the old pent up Chara and Flowey still existed making fooling anyone-

"How are you kids doing?!"

"Ah!" Juleyard bumped his pencil.

Al looked toward his Uncle Papyrus, standing right in the doorway, and smiled. Yeah. He was a lot closer, he didn't have guilt riding on him. He completely opened the door on purpose, to see if anything was wrong. He could get away with that, since it was his room too. "Chilling. We're chilling."

"Oh. Good." Yet, his Uncle still didn't look impressed. "Tonight, Mettaton is giving your mother a break. I am starting a fabulous supper for us downstairs. We all deserve one big family night. With conversation."

"Uh?" Al looked toward Juleyard, who looked back toward the pencil in his hand. "No? I mean, big supper? Like pasta oriented?"

"Like conversation oriented," his Uncle Papyrus said back to him. "A lot has happened in the last few days, and for some reason, I feel more alone. I thought Sans' job would have helped, but he sounded sad on the phone when I spoke to him. Frisk has not been in the right mood either."

"Sounds like something that should be delayed then," Juleyard said. "Let's save it for another day. We can just go out, and we'll be close to in bed by the time they get back."

"Yeah, we need beauty rest," Al agreed.

" . . ." Papyrus looked from one to the other again. "I think there's been a little too much rest. Now? I just want to do something real quick before I am preoccupied for hours downstairs." He strolled over toward their art corner and picked up a couple of papers. "Very nice artwork. I will show Sans." Papyrus seemed to have a stack of papers in his hands already. "I will see you two. Tonight. Around six, I will call you down. Do not be late, and no pretending to be sick either."

Al scratched his nose. "Six?"

"After six," Papyrus said, "but before it gets late."

Papyrus tried to keep his spirits up as he grated cheese over the pasta. It was much less icy, a little warmer, and more cozy. It often made him feel better, but he felt quite odd. He knew something was going on with everyone. Everyone was keeping him in the dark.

Sans was happier that day, but that phone call that he was bringing Frisk home earlier because 'he messed up' made him sound terrible. It sounded like Frisk would feel terrible considering she lashed out at Sans.

And if that wasn't enough, his nephews. His own nephews! Papyrus had ideas about what could be wrong, and it made grating cheese harder to deal with. He didn't want to give into his thoughts. Sans and Frisk were too self-absorbed to see that the children were acting strange, especially towards the end of the day. They had both even started to get tired by 7:30.

Juleyard. Sleepy at 7:30? They claimed it was human sickness, but Papyrus had looked at them. They seemed well enough. Then Juleyard said it was stress, and they hardly came down.

He doubted that. He doubted it very much, and now that they were all having a night of open conversation? With the power of pasta, he was going to get to the bottom of things!

5:45 . . .

Papyrus smiled as Frisk and Sans arrived by the door. "How was the first day of working together?"

"Eh." Sans shrugged. "No biggie."

Of course, Frisk looked down herself. "It wasn't the best day. I really just want to go lay down."

"No, not tonight," Papyrus said. "You have been healthy as a figurately human horse thing." He gestured to the kitchen. "I made a big family meal! The kids will be down in a few minutes."

Sans scratched his skull. "Not really in the mood. Think I'll just grab something and eat upstairs for a bit."

Well, get in the mood. Papyrus knew Sans wouldn't be in the mood, but there was only one thing that would get Sans to stay, and that would keep Frisk from being so self-absorbed. Guilt. "I slaved away all day long at a stove, and you can't grant me a single peaceful dinner?! I've been in here for hours, making the finest meal imaginable for you two as soon as I heard you would be home tonight!"

"Oh." There we go. Sans shuffled his feet. "Mm. Okay, sorry. Um. Didn't mean to be so selfish."

"It's not . . . um." Frisk rubbed her ear. "Fine, okay. A quick bite to eat."

"Great. Go to the table and I will get your kids," Papyrus insisted. "Unless Sans would rather get them? Give them a ride downstairs?"

"Nah, it's fine," Sans said glumly. "Gonna wait over by the table with Frisk."

"Suuup." Al came over by Frisk and sat down next to her. "Um. Grubby grub. Yum."

Juleyard didn't make a sound as he sat on the other side of Sans.

Hm. Yes, whatever this was all about, Papyrus was getting to the bottom of it tonight. "Here everyone, here is bread." He laid it out and watched them all.

No one really reached for the bread. Papyrus fetched the pasta. Sans begrudgingly reached for the bread first.

"Looks great, Papyrus." His voice didn't reflect his words. Frisk reached for the bread too. Then, Al. But, Juleyard didn't.

"Jule," Al said firmly. "Have some bread."

"No." Juleyard sniffled. "Shut up."

Oh. Papyrus looked toward Sans and Frisk. Any correcting from them?

"Hey, you be nicer to your brother." Good. Sans wasn't as bad as Papyrus had thought.

"My brother's an idiot," Juleyard. "He's a whiny, stupid . . ." Juleyard sniffled more.

Sans put down the bread. Even Frisk lifted her eyes to look towards Juleyard.

"Juleyard," Frisk said, looking toward her son. "Honey, what's wrong? You never say that."

"Nothing's wrong." Yet, Juleyard still seemed upset. "I'm just, I don't want bread. Is it wrong not to want bread? Do I have to feel bad about it?" He was wiping his nose on his sleeve. "I hate noses. I hate eyes. I hate this! I hate you!" Juleyard flew off the handle, jumped off the chair and ran outside.

"What?" Frisk ran after her son. Sans followed not too far behind, making sure she didn't trip.

"Dangit." Al followed Juleyard out. "I guess it couldn't last forever."

Frisk approached Juleyard in the snow. What was wrong? She always knew when something was wrong with Juleyard. He was an emotional boy who could never keep anything inside. Maybe I missed it. Maybe I've been too upset. Lack of Flowey. Lack of forgiveness to receive. She even laid her burden down on Sans, when she shouldn't have. Now, her most emotional boy was going through something, and she didn't understand what. "Juleyard, honey? Talk to momsy?"

"I can't. I don't want to. I don't want any of this." Juleyard wept outside, sitting in the snow. "I want it back to the way it was. I don't want to feel. Why does he have to feel so hard?" He rubbed his eyes.

"Stop," Al instructed. "Don't. Don't start that." Now, Al was starting to cry, but he was trying to hide it. "You're making things worse!"

"You made things worse! You never even asked me!" Juleyard yelled through his sobs.

"Hey, hey, whoah. Easy, guys." Sans tried to hold onto Al, but Al was outwardly rejecting him. "What's wrong? Hey, come on."

"Don't. Don't! Not now." Al trembled. "I tried. I'm sorry. I'm sorry!" He fell to his knees and started to cry on the ground too.

Frisk tried to comfort Juleyard, while Sans tried to comfort Al. Neither of the children wanted to be touched though.

"What's going on?" Sans huffed. "Al. You never get like this."

"Sans." Papyrus came up behind him holding some papers. He took off the magic holding the chains of Frisk together. Right now, Asgore wasn't going to be terribly upset if he found out she was free to comfort her children. At least he hoped so. Now, back to business. "This is why we needed to have a dinner. I want to know what you've been hiding. You need to tell me, Brother. Because I have a sneaking suspicion there was more than a little fight with Flowey."

"Uh." Sans looked around. "What . . . do you mean?"

"Is Chara still inside Frisk?" Papyrus outwardly demanded to know.

Frisk looked toward Sans.

"This isn't the right time," Sans warned Papyrus. "Not the right time at all."

"No." Juleyard blubbered slightly. "I didn't . . . I wouldn't choose this. I wanted." He took fistfuls of snow and started to hit it to release his emotions. "I don't want it! I don't want it!"

"Want what?" Frisk begged to know from Juleyard. "Honey, please! Momsy is getting worried. I-I want to help."

"No, don't!" Frisk tried to hold him again.

"Sans!" Papyrus yelled at him again. "Tell me."

"This isn't the time," Sans said again, more firmly. He tried to comfort Al. "Kiddo, what is wrong? What is it? You hardly ever cry. Not openly, not like this. You don't get like this!"

"Sans!" Papyrus demanded once more.

"No, Chara's not inside her!" Sans finally answered him. "I didn't fight Flowey, he gave his and Chara's will to the babies inside Frisk, okay?! Our kids, our next kids are gonna have a piece of them in there, okay?"

"No, they won't. Look." Papyrus gestured to the kids, and then gave Sans some papers he was holding. "I combined all the days up by the times they drew, Sans."

Sans looked through the drawings. They were simple drawings, the usual he would see from Jule and Al. Usually pretty happy. Juleyard was even getting used to drawing Sans and Papyrus. But around the 4:30 mark, things changed.

Al's drawing were flowers. Lots of little miniature little flowers. And goats. Juleyard's were of terrible things. Knives, crying children, and even Frisk? Young Frisk. An evil Frisk. And what wasn't evil, was Toriel. Asgore? Another goat?

Sans kept skimming, then looked back at Papyrus.

Papyrus nodded his head at Sans. "Now, we can have a conversation."

Frisk was still trying to hold Juleyard. "Honey, please. Momsy's right here, baby, please. Sweetie? Please!" Frisk was starting to become desperate. "Please tell me what's wrong? Momsy will make it better."

"You can't!" Juleyard cried out to the sky. "You can't! No one can! And shut up, I don't wanna hear you!"

Frisk felt such a deep hurt inside when she heard that. "Juleyard."

"I'm not." Juleyard rubbed at his eyes. "I'm sorry, Frisk. I don't . . ." Juleyard slumped his body into the snow. "Souls hurt. Souls feel. Souls have emotions." Juleyard reached for the snow. "I had LOVE to keep me warm. Now I'm so cooooold."

What?

"Frisk." Frisk felt Sans hand on her shoulder. "I was wrong." His voice sounded different. Sans gestured to Juleyard. "Flowey and Chara aren't gone, they are more alive than ever. That's why they are hurting."

"What?" Frisk didn't understand.

Sans bent down to Frisk on the ground. He gestured to Juleyard. "That's not Juleyard. That's Chara."

"W-what?!"