Chapter 46
Numbed to strangeness"Sweden."
"Sweden." Sans confirms.
"Why Sweden?" Frisk asks tiredly.
"Probably cause no one would think to look there...or cause there's barely any internet."
"What? But what about Flowey? And Laurent and Dan and the others how am I going to call them?" They say, wide awake now.
"Chill, we got a private server for the place. I meant everyone but us. It's in the middle of nowhere." He smiles a little, no internet and the first thing they think of is not being able to call their friends.
"Wait, there's no neighbors?"
"Nah, there's people, it's just out of the way. I got some pics if ya wanna see?"
They sit close looking at their future home as they switch from a convoy to an old looking SUV. The inside of the vehicle is decked out with their usual security measures but this time they are traveling small. They are going to be living here for an indefinite amount of time, there is no point in making the residents suspicious by driving in on black SUV's tailgating each other. Luckily an old skeleton monster looked after the property while Papyrus was away, so they went in claiming to be their relatives. It seemed like the nephew or cousin excuse was the extent of Papyrus' cover stories.
By now the initial unease is short-lived, moving into a new place loses its charm after the third or fourth time in a row, so they settle quickly. Frisk's room is in the middle of the second floor, a huge screen on the wall set up like a fake window and a sliver of an actual window next to the bed. Sans' room is to their left and the obligatory office and book room to their right. They both have a little privacy upstairs but again, the guards are staying in the house with them, the quick way in which they start their patrol leaves little to the homely illusion the rest of the house seems intent to project.
It's ways off from the center of the town yet not isolated, surrounded loosely by other cottage-like houses; with the woods starting just a few blocks away as an escape route 'in case of attack', Celty had said. The town itself was a small and old fashioned thing, they prided in using traditional methods to prepare their food and other goods, they even had farms. They seemed to focus on supplying the town itself and only a few products were made to export. Not many outsiders came here so the town was unusually quiet, everyone knew most everyone and kept to themselves. Soon they would have to venture out there and mingle, but until then they stayed hunkered down in the overly cozy safehouse.
In just a few days they had everything unpacked, Sans had already made a mess of the kitchen at least once and the office was littered with his handlink repair work. Frisk had filled their own room with posters and started on the new trimester, picking up where they left off with the courses as well as with their classmates. They of course apologized repeatedly for not contacting them sooner.
"You have no idea dude! I thought you were kidnapped by a skeleton cult! Or maybe ran off with this dude, shotgun wedding style!" Dan rants.
"What the-?" They start.
"Dan, you're being really weird." Ruebee shakes her head.
"No, no wedding, we moved out because of safety reasons."
"Bad neighborhood?" Lisa asks.
"More like bad neighbors...but you get the idea." Frisk finishes.
"Uh, no I don't. What was so bad about the other neighborhood?" Dan asks.
"Dude, just drop it, you're making them uncomfortable. They don't wanna talk about it. You know what we oughta be talking about? Those BlueWolfRaiders that stole our glyph stone while we were in finals!"
Lisa puts in, Frisk gives her a smile which she returns as their handlink conference devolves into angry gamer rants about cheating douchebags that attack someone's base during finals week. Frisk refrains from telling them where they are exactly, Dahlia may not have the technology to track them from this far but they can't risk blurting out any compromising information, specially to the people they care about. That night they play a short campaign well into the night, painfully aware of the four hour difference when their clock hits two am but their friends are still wide awake.
"Sorry guys, I have to call out, I'm starting to derp." Frisk says with an apologetic smile.
"Aw come on, bro, just one more battle! Look I'll even lend you my kick ass mount."
They laugh at that. "Thanks Dan, I'm good, just tired. Hey we still got tomorrow."
"Can't tomorrow, I got a Logic test." Ruebee puts in, releasing the spell she'd been charging for the past few minutes and finishing off the last of their enemies in one fell swoop.
"Yeah, me neither, it's my turn to cook at the dorm." Says Lisa picking up the loot.
"I guess it's just you and me old chap! Two bros against the wilderness of the Farlands!"
"Yeah, guess it is, see ya tomorrow then. Good night!" Frisk waves at the camera one last time and logs off.
They spend a few minutes updating their journal that had been a bit forgotten as of late. Though new things kept happening their old dreams had started to fade, only now the thought of not ever remembering everything was not nearly as terrifying. They were resigned, but more than that they were aware of the fact they now had plenty of new memories to fill the blanks. Memories of friends, of new places, of living their life doing something other than running for it constantly. Though admittedly they were still running, those moments in between the fights made all the difference. They'd had time to make friends, to learn and to grow. They wanted more of that and slowly their resolve solidified, they would find a way to stop Dahlia. They would free the souls and get their life back.
Their eye kept closing, blurring the words and not even their resolve could keep it open, so finally they gave in and laid down. That night the blackness welcomed them quickly, they recognized the sensation immediately and turned just in time to see Chara emerge from the yawning dark as they always did, lit from within like an angelic apparition.
But they weren't alone this time.
"So, you've decided to fight." They said, sweet voice echoing into the nothing.
Frisk nodded and Chara smiled, almost wistfully, their eyes oddly fierce. They had no time to read that expression as two shapes stirred beside them, just off the shadows of their cloak. When one of them spoke, their shape came into focus with a yellow spark, making Frisk choke on their response.
"I'm glad you're fighting for what you want...but staying with your loved ones...somehow it seems like it's more important, you know?"
They reach out but somehow can't step closer, even though he's just two steps away. Then the other shape speaks up, this one taller and it's voice gruffer, he glows a soothing green.
"You'll do da right ting. Ya got this, flé. But don't forget...to keep dis safe while ya at it, kay?" Long black fingers tap their chest.
Frisk looks down to see bare ribs, inside it a soul as gold as the blooms around them, gold like the crown on Chara's head, gold like the petals on their grave. They reach out but feel a tug, someone is holding their hand. They turn, looking at the hand on theirs, a tan skinned human hand that looks thick by comparison, holding their white fingers tight.
"Don't do something you'll regret. Giving Mercy is also...brave."
They look up but they can't see their face, the black is everywhere yet somehow they can still feel them here, four distinct feelings, four different beings and they're in the middle lost and unsure. They wake up slowly, holding onto the image so that once they get up they can pour it all on the page, hands shaking all the while. They don't really know what it means but maybe, just like it did before before, time will make the answers clear.
The morning of the third day Frisk heads downstairs drowsily, though last night they'd tried to go back into the dream it seemed like the images came and went as they pleased. Instead they fell back asleep and dreamed the Farlands were real and ran through the Feralwoods with Dan and Lisa hunting for the mythical sharkle. It was embarrassingly nerdy that they'd enjoyed it so shake their head and stretch, cracking their spine with a satisfying set of pops.
"Does that hurt?" Antoine asks politely from the kitchen counter. He'd been back to his overly polite tone since they left New Orleans, probably thinking Frisk was mad at them.
"Not really, morning." They replied just as politely, okay maybe they were a little mad.
The skeleton mulled about the kitchen making a big batch of scrambled eggs, if Sans wasn't up yet it meant he hadn't slept well last night and he'd be hungry when he woke up. They left the other plate ready to reheat then sat on the stool across Antoine. The guard fidgeted a little with their bowl of porridge and though their bigger eyes stayed on the plate, the smaller sets of eyes kept flicking back to Frisk's face. The pair ate in awkward silence for a while.
"I wanted-"
"I was gonna-"
They each pause expectantly and Frisk exhales a small laugh, the both of them were being a little ridiculous.
"Go ahead." Frisk says and digs in again.
"I...wanted to apologise properly. It is our job to protect you, first and foremost; but I'd like to think that more than that we're mates. Maybe not best mates but at least...good friends. Lying to you was uncalled for, even if everything that was happening made it seem like I needed to."
"I get it, but why did you think I wanted to-? I mean, if I'd known you would go with me I wouldn't have lied about it." They say with a little smile, breaking the guard's serious expression.
"Well it wasn't just you and the host we were concerned about." Antoine rolls his eyes and so does Frisk. Sans would not have been a happy camper either way. "More than that it bothered me to be honest. At some point doing this is the same as saying this host thing is more important than any one of us. In a way it is but I can't exactly pretend I care more for what happens to some strangers rather than what happens to my fellow guards...and my friends." Antoine says, eyes intensely focused on their own.
"But it is more important, even if it doesn't feel that way sometimes. I'm not mad at you, you know." Frisk plays with their scrambled eggs a bit before finishing them off.
"Thank you, I'm glad." Antoine says finishing off their own breakfast.
"Wanna go train? I was hoping, I dunno, to learn some new stuff." They shrug getting up to do the dishes.
"I-yes! Yes we can go in just a bit. Wait, what for?" Antoine pauses, their own dishes in hand.
"What do you mean what for? I thought you guys were listening to everything I was doing?"
"We were, but after what happened in New Orleans Sans made some suggestions. The microphone thing was a bit too much."
"You think?" They raise a brow bone and the insectoid looks down, appropriately abashed. "I meant that I want to free the souls, it's the right thing to do. I want to train to be ready...to fight."
"I understand that is why we've been training this entire time." the guard replies, still lost.
"Yeah, 'just in case'. I don't mean just in case now. I want us to get those souls back from her, I want to know my friends didn't die for nothing. I'm not going to let her or anyone else take them." The proverbial fire in Frisk's eye is anything but playful and Antoine let's out a nervous laugh.
"I thought that soul you were given was supposed to be made out of kindness. Where is all this fight coming from."
"From me." They replied honestly. "I'm tired of running and no, this soul he gave me it's not all made of kindness...I don't think anyone is made of one thing and it's not like it's- it's not going to change me. I'm changing because I want to."
"I know that. Sorry for implying-" Frisk nudged them, they stared, all six eyes wide and blinking.
"Stop apologizing for everything, you're making it more awkward than it has to be. You're not the first one of my friends to lie to 'protect' me. Through I'm gonna tell you it is getting old." They teased.
With just a few well placed verbal jabs and more than a few literal ones their friendship is back on track. They offered the guard a skeletal pinky and asked for a promise of honesty, all of Antoine's eyes were focused on them as they twined their long and shiny pinky with theirs. Frisk realized forgiveness came easily when you understood why it is people lied, how it is they can care so much yet do things that hurt you. Maybe that's what being close to people was about, not about never hurting them, not about giving them only your best, but about sharing with them your all of honesty.
Back in Iowa, eyes wandering over her garden, Toriel sighs deeply, despite the years that had passed a good part of her child had stayed the same. With those years she'd slowly come to terms with the fact she would never see the boss monster Asriel could have become in Flowey. Though he was capable of learning, it was unlikely he would age normally, as evidenced by his persistent impatience.
"...there has to be something else we can do, treating her like a murderer is obviously not doing anything! She'll find them eventually and if Sans couldn't hold her off completely what makes you think the guards will? She's not alone anymore!" He all but shouts, leaves gesturing angrily.
"I understand you are upset my child but now is not the time to-"
"Then when is it the time to?! When is it time for me to actually do something? Am I supposed to just let Frisk deal with everything by themselves? I don't know if you noticed, mom, but the world seems really intent in shitting on their head all the time!" Flowey bares his teeth nastily.
"Asriel, that's hardly appropriate! Don't talk to me like that young man, what has gotten into you?" she says turning to him, appalled.
"I'm sorry... I just don't think putting everything on these guys is fair. I know they almost have it, Alphys' and the others can figure out how to free the souls. They don't need me anymore...and I know Frisk is going to need me soon."
"I understand you're worried for your friend but the time for us to directly intervene is gone. Things are not as they were in the old Underground. We cannot simply fight our problems away, regardless of the consequences."
"I'm not going so I can help them fight! They can fight just fine themselves! Don't you get it? I want to be there for them!" His body ripples angrily until he's standing there in front of the handlink, a small monster boy with big red eyes looking at the equally red eyes of the one that could've been his mother.
"What happened, child? What else is troubling you?" She asks gently.
He recedes into his usual form, slithering into his pot. He looks up at her eyes, so much like his own even in this form and can't tell her. Somehow he thinks she must already know.
"It's nothing...mom." he said almost petulantly.
They leave it at that, both talking circles around the elephant in the room until she stops, the silence stretches but she is not waiting for a confession of some kind. What troubles him has been an implicit fact she has accepted just as implicitly with her actions.
"Whatever you choose to do, it won't change the fact that I love you, Flowey. Just... be careful and tell me these things."
It could've sounded like a request, but the fierceness in her voice made it sound like a challenge. His expression softened, he thought she would leave it be, pretend it was all as it ever was. But of course she wouldn't, instead she left the door open for him to take that last step. If that readiness to face him as he was could not be called love, then he didn't know what could.
"Thanks, mom." He said, this time with feeling.
It was almost two weeks after the skeletons had left New Orleans when the call happened, any other time Sylvia would've waited longer but with how quickly things could change, she thought that none of them could afford it.
She was probably right.
"So, it's been a while...I believe we have some catching up to do." Sylvia smiled, the handlink projected her image onto the recliner as if she were sitting right there with them. Frisk and Sans sat slightly to her right on the long couch and Flowey was projected onto the coffee table to the left, the four of them forming a loose circle.
"Yup, pretty much. So who wants to bite it?" Flowey said playfully sarcastic.
"I don't want to bite anything but I can start, if that's okay." Frisk's eye danced with amusement at Flowey, it had been a while since they'd video called him in full like this.
"Go ahead, kid." Sans grumbled softly.
"Will do, spooky scary." They shot back with a little grin that fell when they took a fake breath and started to talk.
Sylvia had gotten the gist of what had happened beforehand but hearing it from Frisk themselves carried an entirely different weight. The changes that had slowly begun months ago were suddenly in the forefront of their life and becoming a permanent part of their persona. They were much more assertive, much more confident and bearing a strong sense of clarity of purpose that they'd lacked before. Luckily both Sans and Flowey were not too far behind.
"We had a talk bout it, I know I screwed it up. It's...lazy to just lie 'cause it's easier an it sucks when ya find out." Sans growled finishing his own spiel.
"Gee I wonder who told you that would happen?" Flowey rolled his eyes.
"Can it, weed."
"Leave it, both of you. You can play-fight later. Yes Frisk?" She turned to them and the other two followed her eyes.
"I was thinking for a while about what I'm going to do about the whole Dahlia and the hosts thing...I already decided I'm going to take the human souls back from her. Alphys and the others are trying to find a way to set them free and I-I think Zunzee was right. They deserve to be free...and so do I. I don't want to live the rest of my life running away." They admit, eye bright and motes starting to gather around it.
"And you shouldn't have to, I agree. But your safety is also important, you need to consider that too." Sylvia says into the tense silence.
"I'm not safe either way. If it's not her eventually someone else might come along. If we don't free these souls they could get passed on to someone else and the whole thing will start all over again." They continue.
"No, yer safe, were safe here. They'll capture those things and put them away. I'm not gonna let anyone hurt ya." Sans says stiffly.
"Oh boy here we go again."
"Flowey, please."
"Well, I'm with Frisk. Those souls need to be put out of the picture for them to be safe and I'm all for kicking some crazy ass." Flowey says cheerfully.
"Yeah, an ya know all 'bout crazy." Sans grumbles.
Before anyone can interrupt the flower continues. "And that's why I'm going with cha!"
"What!?"
"The hell?"
"Oh, great." Sylvia mutters.
"Really?!" Frisk gets up as if to reach for him, kneeling close in front of the coffee table so they're eye level with him.
"Yup!" Flowey says smiling wide. "I'm actually on the plane already, should be there by tomorrow. Surprise!" He says making jazz hands with his leaves.
Frisk exhales a harsh laugh and grins wide at him, they didn't realize how much it meant have him on their side until now. They don't know what to say so they just smile at him and he smiles back.
"Would it kill ya guys to cut me some slack? Sheesh." Sans says while he rubs the dents under his eyes. Frisk turns to him questioningly but he waves them off. "Look, I'm gonna support ya no matter what. I'd rather ya stay here but if ya wanna fight-can't believe I'm saying this-I'm not gonna stop ya. Yer right, if it's not her someone else will come along so...let's fix this shit." His mouth curls in a nasty snarl, features set and stubborn.
"Holy crud he said it! I can't believe it! Tell me you're recording this!" Flowey's head flicked between Frisk and Sylvia animatedly.
Sylvia gets them back on track after that and they each get some new exercises to work on. All the while Frisk sits there close to the image of Flowey, pleasantly shocked and staring after Sans while he refuses to look at them in his embarrassment. Their soul feels ready to burst from their ribcage with joy. He supports them! He's finally here with them and maybe part of the reason he looks away is just to avoid the bright gold light that's coming from their chest at that thought.
