Susan was out of her seat and through the classroom door before the final bell had finished ringing. She practically skipped to her locker to grab the things she would need for homework that night and stuffed them in her bag, then raced to the front of the school. She could hardly keep herself from bouncing on the balls of her feet as she waited for everyone else. Even knowing the person she was waiting for was going to be one of the last people to leave the school could not tamp down her excitement.

After fifteen agonizing minutes, that person finally appeared. Their date, their partner, their joyfriend, call them whatever you liked. They were her favorite right now. She greeted them with a smile. "Hey! Ready for the big day Saturday?"

He was not called 'Silas' then. He was still an 'egg' who had not yet realized he was trans, so he was living as a girl with a girl's name despite not being wholly comfortable in the role. He raised an eyebrow at Susan. "I am, but the way you say that is suspicious. Why would you believe my plans involved you?"

She was taken aback by that. Everything about it; the coldness of his response, the disinterest in his voice, it buried her good mood under mounds of trepidation. "Because… that's our six month anniversary," Susan said. "I told you that. I had you mark it in your calendar and everything."

Silas stared into the middle distance and winced. "Oh, that. Sorry, I completely forgot. It's a shame, but I'm going to have to cancel. There's an open house at Harvard Law, and I've been personally invited. I can make inroads to the admissions office and that will be a huge boon when I apply in the spring. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, I couldn't pass it up. We'll do something later to celebrate."

She could not believe what she was hearing. She had been looking forward to this! It was so important to her! How could he forget and not feel bad at all? "But I had that day first," she whined.

"It's one of the top law schools in the country. If I graduate from there I would have my pick of where to go, I would not be forced to live in this city for the rest of my life. It would be foolish to give that up, even for my girlfriend."

This is what made arguing with Silas so frustrating. He always researched the subject ahead of time, considered various angles and variables, and came to a decision based on all the information available. So if you disagreed you did not simply have a different opinion, you were objectively wrong, and he dismissed any argument that did not support his conclusion as not being as similarly well-thought as his. "Why are you trying to leave so bad?" Susan asked. "What's wrong with Weymouth? This is a good city, with good jobs, and good people! Why do you have to go all the way to Boston to go to school? Why not go to the community college, it's a fine school! Then you wouldn't be living so far away I'd never see you!"

"Boston's only an hour and a half away," he groused. "It's not like I'd be living on the moon. Why are you getting so angry? It's my life, Susan. I have to do what's best for me. There will be plenty of other anniversaries, lots of other chances. But if I miss the chance to go to a good school I will never get it back, never, and that failure will follow me for the rest of my life!" He clicked his tongue and put away his phone. "I thought you would understand but never mind. I'll see you later, I suppose." He adjusted his backpack's position and walked away.

Susan felt anger well up in their throat. "You always do this!" she shouted at his back. "You make decisions without ever asking or caring what I think and then act like I'm the bitch for being left out! Why are you so heartless?" He did not stop. He did not even act like he heard it. But the moment the words left her mouth Susan regretted them. "Wait, stop, I didn't-"

But he was already gone. Even though he could not really outrun her if she tried chasing him down, he had already mentally checked out of the conversation. Even when she texted him that night he did not respond. He conspicuously avoided her the next day, too. She did not hear from him again until evening, where instead of taking the opportunity to talk about what happened and work it out he simply wrote, 'I think we should see other people.'

The cafe was small, quiet, but close to a main road. It was quiet in the early evening, the waitresses getting ready to close for dinner. Kitschy knick-knacks and movie posters from the aughts decorated the walls the way advertisments from the 70s and 80s would lend an old-time atmosphere to low-rent diners back when this memorabilia was contemporary. No one expected much from places like this. It made for ideal neutral territory. The gathered adults were sitting at a table along the south wall, so even if they were not meeting so late in the day the sun would not reach them. Ms. Ashland looked over the two people seated opposite her and Silas. The man had a square face and a wide nose. His thick mustache and the lines on his face made him appear much older than he was. Other than the skin tone he did not look much like Frisk, but Ms. Ashland had found children who look nothing like their parents was not uncommon. The woman, however, had thick eyebrows, a tiny nose, and eyes with an epicanthic fold, exactly like Frisk had before their disappearance. No one would blink an eye if this woman were to hold Frisk's hand and walk with them down the street.

She started the conversation by offering a handshake, which the man took, then the woman. "I'm Ms. Ashland, we spoke on the phone. This is Silas Pembrook, their current foster father." Silas only nodded. "Frisk isn't here, Silas has assured me they're being looked after. We thought it wise if we did not let Frisk know what was going on until we all have a better idea of the situation."

The man nodded, seeing the sense of her decision to leave Frisk out of the loop for now. "My name is José Milan. This is my wife, Elena." Elena gave them a thin smile and a handshake but deferred back to her husband without offering a word. He illustrated his speech by waving his hands around, gesturing to describe certain actions or pointing to put more emphasis on certain words. "We started dating in high school about ten years ago. A little more than eight years ago, we… well, I thought we were being careful, but something must have gone wrong. Elena got pregnant. Her family is very traditional, yeah? So we got married. I suppose you could call it a shotgun wedding, but I don't regret it. Elena is the love of my life." They shared a glance and a smile, and each squeezed the other's hand.

Ms. Ashland looked to Elena. "And you feel the same way?"

"I know what you're asking," Elena said. Her voice was emotionally muted but stern, the voice of someone tired of fighting but ready and able to begin again if she had to. "José is… the best thing to ever happen to me. I've made a lot of mistakes, and I've suffered a lot. But marrying José, I've never regretted that. Not for a single moment of my life."

… True. Or at least, Silas mused, she believed it was true. Elena was trying to project strength, but her hand rested on José's thigh to draw resolve from him. And José, while Elena was talking, kept his eyes firmly on her, vague traces of a satisfied smile on his face. He thought the world of her. Whatever other problems or deficiencies they had the Milans were deeply in love. "Did you consider abortion?" Silas asked. "Obviously you decided against it, but-"

"Wasn't an option," José said simply. No regret, no disgust, merely a statement of fact. "It's… complicated. We talked about it, sure, but… no. I don't think we ever would have done that." Elena's lip curled downward for a fraction of a second but she recovered quickly. Hm.

"Forgive me," Ms. Ashland sighed. "But your actions seem rather strange. You have an unintended pregnancy, refuse an abortion, but abandon the child in front of a hospital a few days after their birth? Did you or did you not want the child?"

"We of course wanted children, eventually," José said. "I was going to do my best to be a good father to my child. But…"

"It was my grandfather," Elena nearly spat. "He held a lot of influence over the family. He was the one who pushed for our marriage the most out of anyone; at that time I thought he was our friend and ally. But once my child was born and he saw their red eyes, he changed his mind. He declared the child was evil and demanded it be removed from the house. He was the only one who wanted us to do it, but no one else dared to go against him." She was shaking with suppressed rage. "He actually wanted it killed. Can you believe that? It took the whole family to convince him to even accept abandoning it."

"You could have put them up for adoption," Ms. Ashland said. "Sign over your parental rights legally. It would have been better and safer for the child."

"That would have required us to be listed as their birth parents," José explained. "This was unacceptable to our grandfather. He was sure the child would grow up to hate us, track us down, and kill us. It was ridiculous, but her mother and father never said a word against it. Craziness! But that craziness made us abandon our little baby."

Silas took the initiative with the next question, "So the real question here is, why now? What made you wait eight years to try to get them back?"

Now it was José's turn to get strength from Elena; she put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed, and José took a breath. When he looked up again there was water in his eyes. "We have been punished," José said. "We have been trying to start a family and have not had any luck. We each went to the doctor and… the problem is me. I have a very low chance to conceive. That child, Frisk, is our miracle child. They are the one chance we had, and we gave them away without realizing what kind of treasure they were. But then we saw that missing child report… it reached us even from several counties away. We saw that child with their red eyes and said, 'That's them. They are still alive, and they need help.' And so we searched for them. We held out hope they would be found safe. And when they were, we started immediately looking into what it would take to get them back. Elena's grandfather is dead, and even if the rest of our family argues against it this time we will not budge. We will raise them as ours."

The story was starting to come together for Silas. "So that's what this is about. Reclaiming the family you gave up."

There was a flash of anger in José's eyes. "Let me be clear," he said, keeping himself in check and replacing his anger with penitence. "I know… nothing we can do can ever make up for what we've done. That child, our child, has been lonely for eight years because of us. We can never take that back, and we can never make it right. I can only have faith that God will forgive us, because I can't hold out hope that Frisk will. But I promise this: if you give us the chance, we will make sure they grow up happy. They will be safe. We will be the loving parents they've been missing for the past eight years. Not because we think we owe that to them, or because we want to make up for anything, but because that's what Frisk deserves."

Ms. Ashland looked at him evenly. "You keep calling them 'Frisk, Frisk', but that's the name the hospital gave them. Did you give them a name before abandoning them?"

A sly smile appeared on José's face for a fraction of a second. "Their name is Frisk, of course. We gave up the right to name them when we left them in front of that hospital. They are Frisk now. Just like their gender; regardless of what I thought before I realize now we had a child. We can't dictate that to them, either."

Ms. Ashland paused. "… Would you like to meet Frisk?"

"Of course we'd like to see them," José said. "But… I want to wait. I want to know, for a fact, that they're ours. I don't want to have to look them in the face and say, 'Sorry, we were mistaken'. Wouldn't that be too cruel?"

Ms. Ashland was quick to pounce. "So you believe there's a chance Frisk is not your child?"

"Not a big one," José said. "I mean, how many other eight year olds are there with red eyes that were abandoned at birth in New Hampshire? I don't think it's very likely, yeah? But still let's not take any chances."

"Incidentally," Silas said. "Child abandonment is a crime. Leaving them at a hospital as a designated 'safe haven' may prevent you from serving jail time, but you still relinquished all your parental rights. Even if they are biologically your child, the state still has the right to deny your adoption. They may also seek to have you reimburse them for the costs they incurred taking care of Frisk. That is of course on top of the normal costs for adoption. Are you really prepared for that, monetarily?"

"We are," José said immediately. "We did some research before coming forward. As we said, paying what we owe for our mistakes isn't the issue here. If Frisk is our child it is the least of what we owe. Which reminds me, isn't there some kind of paternity test we can do to make sure? I want to get that done quickly, so we all know for sure. I'm sure you'd like to know as well; we don't have any other way of proving we're telling the truth, after all."

True. There was always the possibility they were simply lying through their teeth about giving up a child eight years ago. It was not a secret that Frisk had red eyes, and the story they told was impossible to verify through information only Frisk's real parents would know. Still, someone who crafted a story like that would not invite further investigation knowing it would be followed up on. Even fewer would do it for little monetary reward, and in fact the promise of fines on top of reimbursing the state. Still, the answers he got painted a picture, and he did not like what it showed.

"I take it you are financially stable," Ms. Ashland inferred.

José nodded. "Quite so. I mean, we aren't exactly old money, yeah? But Elena, she's a pharmacist, and I'm an architect. So we're better off than a lot of folks. We'll even pay for the tests ourselves, if that's where you're going with this."

Silas licked his lips. He had to be careful how he phrased this in case Ms. Ashland got wise. "That isn't my concern. What I'm worried about is, Frisk might not want to change schools again so suddenly. They may crave the stability of remaining in the area. Would it be possible for you to relocate to Weymouth on a temporary or permanent basis?"

Ms. Ashland put out a placating hand. "That's, not strictly necessary-"

But José waved her off. "Oh, that's no trouble. I was actually about to ask you about that! You see, it seems likely the monsters are going to want to move to the surface really soon, yeah? They're going to need lots of new housing and business developments, and that means lots of work for me! I figure it might be good to stick around and make some good money."

Silas found his opening. "So you're… okay with the monsters?"

The response was a shrug. "Black, brown, furry, three heads, their money spends the same. Never met one myself, to be honest, but that King Asgore seems okay. And there was the skeleton on the internet, Papyrus? You know, 'Spooky scary skeletons'? So funny! Yes, I think I'd like them."

"Thank you very much for coming," Ms. Ashland said, giving Silas a quick side-eye. "I think this is enough for us to go on. We need to do a background, credit, and criminal checks, and… yes, I suppose we can do the tests. I don't have the name of the clinic off-hand, I'll contact you later tonight and let you know. Please keep in touch." The Milans thanked them and left, leaving money for their coffees and a 20% tip for their server.

After they left Ms. Ashland asked, "So, Mr. Pembrook. What do you think?"

"I don't like it," Silas said. "They say they want to give Frisk a good home because they deserve one, but they implied they won't go through with the adoption unless Frisk is their kid. The first statement is telling us what he thinks we want us to hear, the second is how he really feels. And I'm using 'he' because this is obviously more for José's sake than Elena's. He wants his kid back. His motive revolves around his own flesh and blood that he can't get any other way. While she almost seems like she's dreading what comes next."

"I was thinking the same thing," Ms. Ashland confirmed. "I can't tell anything for sure with a meeting this short, but it does raise a few flags. He was in total control of the conversation; even when Elena contributed she did not seem particularly enthusiastic. He also smiled when I asked what their original name was. He expected that question, they rehearsed their answer to it. They have been planning for this."

"So we're in agreement," Silas said. "They should absolutely not be allowed near Frisk."

Ms. Ashland did not respond immediately. "Even if I doubt their motives, they would not be bad parents. They have means, they truly do care for the child, and I have no reason to think they will be abusive or neglectful towards Frisk."

"Are… are you serious? I thought you wanted to do what was best for them."

She sighed. "A child's chance of adoption goes down every year, Mr. Pembrook. Frisk has a dozen and one reasons not to be considered, and after that scare they gave everyone by running away they are out of chances. They either get adopted by the Milans, or they stay in the foster system until they're 18 and then they're on their own. You seem like a smart man, so look at the statistics; a kid who grows up with two loving parents has much better odds than one who'll be bouncing around foster homes for another ten years. I don't like the Milans, but I can't let that get in the way of what Frisk needs."

Silas bit his lower lip. Damn it! What she was saying was true based on the information she had. She did not know there was someone else who deeply loved Frisk and wanted to adopt them as soon as possible, but would be unable to even start for months. Even if she could start now, even setting aside that she was a monster attempting to raise a human child, could he make the argument that a single mother with no apparent source of income could provide a better home than two parents with high-income careers? Family law was completely out of his wheelhouse.

Ms. Ashland continued, "I suppose the first order of business is to confirm the Milans are Frisk's parents. I'm going to have to ask for a DNA swab from Frisk. You do have the right to refuse, of course, but if you're really looking out for them…"

Silas rubbed the back of his neck. "Yes, I understand. I'll… figure something out."

Asgore asked plaintively, "Are you sure you cannot stay longer? I feel as though you have only just arrived. I would hate for you to leave on such a melancholy note." Asgore, Carol, and Camille were on the sidewalk, in front of three pieces of luggage. A taxi waited to bring Carol to the airport, where a plane would take her back to her home in California.

"I'm afraid I can't," Carol replied. "I spent yesterday being stalked by the media but at least they haven't learned where I'm sleeping yet. My husband and daughter are likely to be under siege at our house and I must return to them. Please don't frown, Asgore; despite the circumstances, I believe this meeting was good for both of us. And I don't have to be gone for long; despite everything this is still the place I grew up." Maybe now that she did not have to hide what happened in her youth, she would be able to have a better relationship with this city going forward. She grabbed a curiously square piece of luggage and attempted to drag it to the trunk, but it failed to move an inch. "What the… How did this get so heavy? Wait… one, two, three? Is this even mine?" She checked the tag and found no name listed. Curiously, the bag began to unzip itself! And inside was-

"Goooooooood afternoon, gentlebeauty!" A giant metal box rose up from the suitcase, sporting a pair of telescoping arms and a unicycle wheel instead of legs. "I've been looking forward to meeting you Mrs. Caroli. I'm sure I need no introduction but I am Mettaton, the Underground's foremost television superstar."

"Metta…ton?" Carol smiled uneasily, her actress years gifting her with the instinct and ability to roll with the punches. "It's a pleasure to meet you. What were you doing in my luggage?"

"A star always knows how to make an entrance, darling," Mettaton said. "I have been trying to reach you for two days now, and I thought this would be my last chance. If you've been following social media you would know I'm the biggest thing since the monsters showed up. Style! Grace! Fabulousness! This robot has it all! And so you simply must take me with you back to Hollywood! Even I know it's where the greatest media luminaries make it big, and it doesn't get bigger than me!"

"That may be difficult," Camille said. "Monsters are not supposed to leave Weymouth. In California you would have no legal rights, and by yourself you would have no way to argue for any."

"But!" Mettaton protested. "But I simply must! No other stage is fit for my greatness! How else can I reach my audience if I can't shine there?"

"Well, why not bring the audience to you?" Carol suggested. "You're a monster, you're a robot, you're a performer… someone like you doesn't have to go to where the movies are made to be a star. Simply by being here you'll bring the movies to you!"

Mettaton remained stock still for several seconds. Then all the lights on his front starting blinking rapidly. "Brilliant!" he shouted. "That's a simply marvelous idea! When they see what a treasure they're missing out on, all the humans will beat a path to my door! That is simply genius, Mrs. Caroli! I will begin immediately!" With that he zoomed off so quickly he left a tire track on the sidewalk and the faint smell of burnt rubber in the air.

"Goodness," Asgore coughed. "That was… adeptly handled. I admit I have some trouble with that one…"

Carol blushed a tiny bit. "You run into people like that a lot in the movie business. You learn to get hood at handling those kinds of personalities."

Unfortunately, the conversation was overheard by someone who pulled out a pad of paper. "Mrs. Caroli? Mrs. Caroli!" The man pushed his way in between them. "We all heard your announcement yesterday! Do you think it was appropriate to make this accusation against your grandparents, one of whom is dead and the other hospitalized?"

Ah, so that was the angle they were going with. So much for liking this place.

"Go ahead and get to your flight," Asgore said with a smile as he elbowed his way between her and the reporter. "Already I feel like I am old hand at dealing with reporters." He straightened himself up and turned away from Carol, addressing him, "Ah, yes, I'd like to make an exclusive statement. I am immensely grateful for Mrs. Caroli and her bravery in coming forward, not just about the identity of Chara but also the alleged abuse perpetrated against her and her sibling. We believe her story of survival and-"

Meanwhile Carol slipped away into the taxi to be driven to the airport. She sighed and settled into the seat with a deep breath as the car rolled away. She knew now. The most important thing was, she finally knew what became of Chara. That chapter of her life now had a definitive end. She had hoped by some miracle that Chara was alive and she would see them again someday, but it was a foolish wish. Chara died surrounded by people who loved and cared about them. That was the best ending she could have realistically hoped for. She was able to keep herself together up until the car reached a cruising speed. Then she buried her face in her hands and sobbed quietly.

"It's a whole thing, innit?" the cab driver said. "Sorry, I won't pry if you don't wanna say nothin'.

"No, no," Carol said, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. "It's fine. I assume you've been following the news?"

The driver shrugged. "I mean, I ain't gonna lie and say I don't know who you are. But I ain't gonna assume I know you just 'cause I see you on the TV neither. If it's the news hounds, well man, they can get on anyone's nerves."

"It's not that," Carol said. "I've been dealing with the media my entire career. It's actually kind of charming to see King Asgore try and make a noble sacrifice because it's so unnecessary. I just…" She snorted and shook her head. "It's stupid. My sibling vanished a long time ago and died not long after. They've been dead more than thirty years. I should be over it."

"But you just learned that a day or two ago, right? So really they died just the other day." Carol nodded. There was a sort of logic to that. The driver sighed, "Death happens. It's nothing we didn't sign up for, we all know the score. But it still messes you up, you can't expect it not to. And you can't turn into a sad sack a' tears, you still got shit to do. So it's like… like a book or something. You can't sit there and finish reading it, so you just kinda put a bookmark in it and put it off to the side. You'll get back to it when you got time. And something else happens, that's another book, so you put it on top of the first one, and then a third on top of that, and so on. Sooner or later you got this stack of bullshit you don't want to deal with. And like, that pile's got a life of its own and figures out to sneak up on you if you don't keep busy, so… fuck, I think I lost where I was going there."

Carol laughed despite herself. "No, I think… I understand completely. You have to keep running so it doesn't catch up with you. And the moment you have a chance to stop and think…" She shook her head. A not-insignificant part of her hoped she would be able to show the depths of their atonement. Look Chara, I kept the name you gave me. I told our story. I even named my daughter after you. I never forgot you, so please don't think I ever stopped loving you. "I think I've been going too fast for too long," she said. "Maybe I ought to slow down. Deal with everything that's been piling up."

"It's gonna suck," the cabbie said. "There's a reason you put it aside, right?"

"Maybe. But it'll be good, in the long run." She sighed, feeling the weight come off her shoulders. She needed to enjoy a nice, long break with her family. They had plenty of money saved up, she could afford a sabbatical. "Hey, what's your name?"

"Darnell Weare, like it says on the card back there. You ain't gonna tell anyone about the swearing, right? My boss keeps telling me to cut down on that-"

"Don't worry, my daughter's not in the car so you can talk how you want," she laughed. "I've heard a lot worse. I've said a lot worse! But thank you, Mr. Weare. I feel like talking to you really helped."

"That's real nice of you, ma'am. We're getting on the highway, hope you're as soft about speed limits as you are on cussing." He slid over three lanes while slamming on the gas pedal, causing the car to lurch. Carol white-knuckle gripped the handle above the door (what her driver's ed instructor had lovingly called the Oh Shit Bar) and sucked in air. That was another thing she did not miss about New England, the drivers…

Undyne arrived at Silas' condo just as he was pulling into the driveway. She started talking before he even had both feet out of his car. "Good timing," she said, her face hard with uncharacteristic solemnity. "I needed to ask Toriel about a few things and I figure you would want to be there to hear them. Seeing as how it might involved the kid in your care."

Silas had been about to close the car door but what Undyne said made him pause. "Is this how you act when you're on the clock?"

Undyne snorted. "It is when I know my day is gonna suck. Speaking of which, you'd better control yourself too, alright? Normally I'd conduct an interrogation in private, so I'm counting on you to be your normal professional self."

"So you want me to be the good cop."

She grinned. "Do you really think I'm suited to play the good cop?" Valid point.

When they entered the house Frisk was sitting on the couch and was frowning at a book they had opened on their lap. Toriel sat next to them, smiling patiently while Frisk sounded out the words. "In Life's, name, and for Life's… sake, I…" They paused, looking between their letter strips and the book a few times before attempting, "Ass-ert?"

"Very good Frisk!" Toriel congratulated. "Do you know what that word means?"

Frisk thought for a moment. "Is it a word for 'say'?"

"Yes, but it means you are very sure what you are saying is true and are showing that confidence. For instance, 'I assert that I love you!'" Frisk giggled and kicked their legs as she nuzzled her nose into their hair.

Undyne coughed to announce her presence. "I hate the break this up, but do you mind if I ask Toriel a few questions? It shouldn't take long."

Both of them looked up at her. Toriel patted Frisk on the back and told them, "Go upstairs for a moment, I'll see what Undyne wants and then get started on dinner. Then we can pick up where we left off if you like." Frisk nodded and bounded upstairs, turning to look back only once when they reached the top before disappearing around the corner.

Silas waited until he heard Frisk's bedroom door open and shut before noting, "That wasn't a schoolbook."

"It was not," Toriel confirmed. "It is a book they are reading as leisure. They said a friend recommended it." She laughed. "Can you imagine? This time last month they could hardly read at all, and now they are reading for fun! It is still very hard for them, but I am glad they are up to the challenge. Come with me to the kitchen, we'll have a tiny bit more privacy there. I need to start getting ready for dinner… you are, of course, welcome to stay." She stood up and walked over to the cupboards, getting down mixing bowls and cans of vegetables.

Undyne followed her to the kitchen and said, "I was supposed to look into the state of the Ruins. You did a lot of good work taking care of it, but it's pretty clear you were the only person trying to maintain it and it's not a one-person job. But that's not what I'm here about. In the basement of your home, there was a lot of burn marks on the walls and floors in front of the doors to the rest of the underground. It looked like someone had been throwing around a lot of fire magic. Since you're the only person who had access to that room and has command of fire magic, I'm wondering what that's all about."

Toriel closed the cupboard and laughed, embarrassed. "Oh… I apologize about that mess. I meant to clean it all up, but I decided to… tend the flowers. And then I ran to the castle, and, well, you saw how everything went from there."

"I don't care about the dirt," Undyne said. "I want to know how that happened."

Toriel averted her gaze. "Well… it is a long story. You see, after I left Asgore, I decided-"

Undyne snapped, "Does it have anything to do with the burn marks on Frisk's shirt when I first saw them?"

Both Toriel and Silas froze but for opposite reasons. All of his attention was now focused on Toriel, hyperfocusing on every twitch and movement she made. Toriel grasped her chest through the robe and closed her eyes, breathing heavily through her nose. "… Yes," she confessed. "I wanted to keep Frisk safe, but they would not listen. If they were going to journey to the barrier I had to make sure they would not hesitate to protect themself no matter what. I had to prepare them for what would be on the other side of the door. So I… showed them what other monsters would do. It was an honest expression of my love for them."

"An expression of your love," Silas repeated without missing a beat. He chuckled to himself. "We have another name for that here on the surface. It's 'child abuse'."

Toriel snarled, eyes blazing, "How dare you!"

"Uh," Undyne tried to interject, but the situation had clearly fallen out of her hands.

"You admit to attacking them," Silas pointed a finger and jabbing it at Toriel, his voice rising an octave as his volume increased. "They could have been hurt or even killed. And you knew that, you knew! But it was so important that they do as they were told that you would risk that!"

She took a step backward, but her eyes still smoldered with defiance. "I watched six children walk through those doors, and all of them ended up dying. I tried to tell them all, but none of them understood! And there was a seventh child, alive for now but if I let them go… you must understand, I had to stop them by any means possible!"

"Including killing them yourself?!"

Toriel stomped up to him, finding new purchase in her rhetoric. "Nearly every single person you've met tried to kill Frisk. You already knew this. Why do you forgive them so easily and not I?"

"Because none of them ever pretended to be their guardian only to betray them when they crossed an invisible line. God! I can't believe I argued against Frisk being adopted!"

"What?" All the anger and defensiveness had left Toriel's face. "What… did you just say…?"

Oops. Silas sighed and slicked his hair back, trying to recover his composure. "… I was late coming home tonight because Frisk's social worker, Ms. Ashland, called me up. There's a couple who is looking to adopt Frisk."

Toriel stared at him in horror. She shook her head. "No… no! You told me that would not happen! Silas, you said-"

"I know what I said," Silas explained. "But that's immaterial. This is the reality now. Someone is looking to adopt Frisk, and the government is inclined to give them up. I don't know if I can stop them. And if I'm being honest, after this I'm not sure if I should." Silas took a deep breath. "The adoption is going to take a while to go through. On top of all the normal background checks and red tape, there's going to need to be some extra tests. The couple believes they're Frisk's birth parents and want to make sure of that before they take them back."

"Really?!"

Silas, Toriel, and Undyne all whirled toward the staircase, where the shout originated from. Frisk was there, lurking at the top of the stairs where they would be hidden from view in the kitchen but could still hear everything the adults were saying. They ran down the stairs and up to Silas. "Really?" Frisk said, jumping up and down with a giant smile. "Really really? You found them, they came back?!"

This was exactly what he did not want to happen. He realized then he had been tricked; Frisk had opened and closed the door to make him think they were in their room, but instead they had remained out in the hallway and crept back to spy on them. He did not dare look over at Undyne or Toriel to see their stares blaming him: this mistake was his and his alone. "We don't know if they're really your parents," he said. "They claim they are, but there's no proof. And if you aren't theirs they won't take you."

He had hoped this would have made Frisk realize the Milans had other motives besides caring for Frisk, but instead it only seemed to encourage them. "So they want me. Me and only me. Wait, would I have to leave the monsters, if they adopted me? Would they take me away?"

"They seemed inclined to move into the area, for at least long enough to finish your schooling," Silas said. He left unsaid how he was unsure whether Frisk should continue hanging around the monsters. "But that's only if I let them take you. Trust me Frisk, it's better if you stay away from those people. I never wanted you to know because I won't let it go farther than it needs to."

Frisk did not so much deflate as pop. Their whole body sagged. "You… you don't want me to get adopted?"

"Not by them, not if I can help it. I may not have many cards to play, but at the very worst I'll go down fighting."

"But they're my parents." Frisk's hands balled up into fists and their mouth twisted into a deep frown. "They want me back. Why are you saying 'no'?"

"It's not out of the goodness of their hearts," Silas tried to explain. "They want their child, and won't feel bad at all about leaving you behind if you aren't their kid. They aren't doing this for the right reasons."

"So what?" Frisk asked, shaking. "You're gonna take away my family just 'cause you don't like them?!"

"Whether I like them or not is irrelevant!" Silas said. "Even if they are your birth parents you can't trust them because of that. I am your guardian, and that means it's my job to look out for you precisely because you don't know what's best for you!"

Frisk bared their teeth and stomped their foot as hard as they could. They leaned forward and shouted at the top of their lungs, "I HATE YOU!" Then they spun on the ball of their foot and bolted out the door as fast as their legs could carry them, pushing the storm door hard enough to bang against the wall of the condo before slowly retracting shut.

Silas stood there, stunned, until a furry Boss Monster shouted incredulously, "What are you doing?! Go after them!"

Silas cursed. He wanted to tell her there was no point, but there was no arguing with Toriel. He broke into a run, or as much of one as he could manage. He bolted out the door and saw a striped shirt to his left, already most of the way past the lawn and almost to the gate. Silas gave chase but did not even make it to the edge of his building. He was panting and out of breath even though he did not run long enough to even get a good sheen of sweat. His muscles ached and his heart rabbited inside his chest. He doubled over and took great heaving sighs to try and put air back in his lungs but leaned his head upward to try and find any sign of Frisk. No such luck. They were long gone.

He heard pattering feet behind them as Toriel caught up. "Silas," she called, disappointed. "What happened? Where did Frisk go?"

Silas explained between pants, "Lost them… I can't… run well… I…"

Toriel put a hand on the back of his neck and he felt something like static electricity wash over his body for a moment. His breathing returned to normal as energy welled up within him. "Very well. Get back inside, I have a good idea where they went. I will try talking to them privately."

"Why should I leave them with you?" he asked, grabbing the sleeve of her robe. "We still haven't resolved the whole 'you set them on fire' thing. Do you really think I'll let you see them unsupervised after learning about that?"

Toriel pulled her sleeve from out of his grasp. "And what do you plan to do? If I run after them you just revealed you cannot stop me."

"Enough! Both of you!" Undyne shouted as she stomped over to both of them. "You need to cool your heads. Frisk ran off, that's what's important, not your egos!"

"You cannot talk to me that way!" Toriel stepped up to her. "I am your-"

Undyne stepped into Toriel's space, grinning a shark-like grin and enunciating each syllable: "No. You. Aren't." While Toriel was stunned she continued, "You ran away, remember? You gave up the throne. You might be a boss monster but you haven't been queen for a long time. You can't throw away the responsibility and keep the authority, you don't get to play it both ways! I'm gonna talk to Frisk and take them back to my home while you two get your heads on straight. Don't think I won't risk a meltdown to keep you away from them either, just try me!" Then she stomped off, following the path Frisk took. She had not explained how she was going to track them down, but certainly the former Captain of the Royal Guard had her ways.

Toriel watched her go. Once she was out of sight she reached into her robes and withdrew a set of house keys. She dropped them on the sidewalk in front of Silas. "If we must calm down, we should do so apart from each other. I suppose I shall be off, then." She whirled around and began walking away, towards the forest behind the condo.

"Toriel, go back inside." Silas pulled out his car keys. "I'll get a hotel for the evening or something. We both know you have nowhere else to go."

She stopped. "I do not need your pity. You have made it quite clear I am no longer welcome in your home."

"Undyne's right," he said. "We shouldn't make any big decisions right now. We'll… go clear our heads and come back at this in the morning."

"Do you really think I am so helpless?" Toriel said. Despite the watery tone of her voice she maintained her composure and her commanding presence, though she did not turn to meet his eyes. "I shall not make you a refugee from your own house! I will find other lodgings from now on! Goodbye!" Then she took off running, past his condo and into the woods behind it.

Silas already knew chasing after her was useless. He knelt down and picked up the spare key with trembling fingers. Holding them crystallized the past few minutes, made them real. Had he done the right thing? He remembered all the times Frisk embraced Toriel free of any concern or hesitation. He remembered Toriel's loving smile and tenderly stroking Frisk's hair. He also remembered the burns on Frisk's shirt, and how resolute Frisk was when they lied to his face. The flames which danced between Toriel's clawtips as she became more and more heated. The disdain and contempt when she declared he would not be able to keep her from Frisk. He closed his fist around the keys. No, this was good. It would be best for both of them if Toriel no longer stayed in contact with Frisk. Frisk, too, would understand Silas's way was best. They would all understand once their tempers calmed.

Two blocks down the road stood a playground. It was one of the old-style playgrounds, a prefabricated structure with a plastic slide on one end and a swingset on the other. It stood in a sea of pale yellow sand, even except for the long furrows along the path of the swings and a shallower pit at the foot of the slide. It was getting toward sunset; all the kids for whom such simple pleasures had not lost their appeal had gone home a while ago. Frisk sat on the swing, feet tucked underneath them and hands loosely holding the chains. They drifted back and forth, pushed only by the wind.

"Say it," Frisk dared, speaking to someone who was visible only to them. "Just say it. I know you wanna. Tell me I was stupid to trust him. Tell me he never even liked me. Say you told me so."

Chara watched Frisk with their arms crossed, their normal smile twisted on their face. They floated down and pantomimed sitting on the swing next to them. "For what it's worth, I don't think he meant to hurt you."

That was not worth much at all. "Big whoop," they said, kicking at the dirt. "Doesn't mean anything."

"I'm sure he was doing what he thought was right," Chara said. "I'm not saying it's your fault for asking him for things he couldn't deliver, and I don't think it's his fault for not knowing what you wanted. Sometimes people don't click together."

"He was s'posed to care. He was supposed to unnerstand, but he doesn't. He never did."

"And you think these people looking to adopt you do?" Chara asked. "They don't know you. You've never even met them. Literally all you know is that they abandoned you at birth. How can you even be willing to give them the time of day, let alone be willing to let them back into your life, let alone accept them as your parents so quickly?"

Somewhere in the world, Frisk's... not real, but biological parents must exist. They had to have been born from someone, somewhere, at some time. They would always exist no matter how much time had passed since then or how much Toriel loved them. And if they must exist, Frisk would prefer them to be like the people Silas said they were. People who loved them and cared for them and wanted them back. That was the most seductive part of it; they gave Frisk up once as unneeded. Unwanted. For those same people to come back and welcome them with open arms. To say they were wrong, that Frisk was loved and wanted. To desire them and only them. It would mean more coming from them than anyone. Frisk felt like hearing that would close a wound nobody else had the power to heal. "I don't care," they said. "As long as they love me, I don't care."

Chara did not move for a few moments. "Thank you for being honest," they said finally, their tone implying they wanted to say something much more hostile. Frisk was about to protest but Chara held up their hand. "No, don't. I've been with you long enough to understand what you mean. I know how important having a family is to you. And if you want to forgive them for what they did, that's your decision. Everything else… well, nothing's going to happen right away. We'll figure something out, I guess."

Frisk knew it was unfair to ask Chara to live with a decision they ultimately had no power to change. Even if Frisk could stay in Weymouth there was no guarantee they would be able to hang out with the monsters like they could now. But they found it hard to care about that right now. Like Chara said, they would figure that out later. Right now…

"Hey! Frisk!"

Not the voice they expected, which was the only thing that kept them from bolting. They looked up to see Undyne waving at them from the other side of the chain-link fence. She effortlessly bounded over the fence and landed near them.

Frisk swallowed as she rose to her full height. "… Are you going to take me back to his house? I… I don't…"

She scoffed, "Hey, give me a little credit. What good's a bestie if she leaves you at the mercy of a human, huh? I got an empty apartment building at the building site and nothin' else to do, so from now on you're my number one priority! It'll be like a sleepover!"

They calmed down a little bit. "Are you gonna take me away from Toriel?"

She turned to look behind her to see if she was being followed, her smile fading. "I dunno," she answered honestly. "Not just for attacking you, I'm not that much of a hypocrite. And if I didn't say it before, I'm sorry for trying to kill you and take your soul. That was… wrong, and it's not something you should have had to forgive so easily. But I think everybody needs some time apart to really, uh, grasp it all and figure out what we're going to do next." Frisk nodded, seeing the wisdom of that even if they had no intention of ever seeing Silas again. Undyne continued, "You don't have to say anything, if you don't want. We don't even have to leave right away." She leaned against the side of the structure, close enough to talk with Frisk but far enough away to give them space.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, the sun sinking lower and lower into the horizon. Frisk watched the colors of the world become darker and more orange. Their thoughts refused to progress any further, winding down the same well-worn trails of thought they had before Undyne arrived. Undyne… now that they thought of it, Undyne never really talked about her parents. She lived alone, and though lots of people around Waterfall had lots to say about who Undyne was none of them talked about who Undyne used to be. Except Gerson. Curiosity nibbled at the back of their mind. "Undyne? What were your parents like?"

Undyne sighed and cracked her neck. "Dunno. The way I heard it they both Fell Down when I was still little. Pretty irresponsible, right? Bringing a kid into the world and not even seeing it through? It wasn't all bad, though. Monsters, or at least us commoners, raise their kids as a community. Everyone's responsible for everyone's kids, so if somebody runs into hard times or Falls Down there's gotta be people to pick up the slack. Put another way, I have more parents than I can name." She looked up into the sunset with an easygoing smile. "Gillso taught me all the ins and outs of Waterfall. Newdry taught me how important it was to look your best. Atheton taught me letters and numbers. Gerson taught me about the importance of tradition… and how to pick your battles. Not that that last one stuck, heh heh! And Asgore, he taught me how to fight and win. So I've never felt like I was deprived, or that I missed something just 'cause I never knew who my birth parents were."

"It's not like that for humans," Frisk said. "You're on your own if your parents can't or won't raise you. If you're not a good kid, no one takes care of you."

Undyne growled, "That's messed up. How do they think kids are gonna turn out if no one's looking out for 'em? Man, I never thought about it before, but we're really lucky you didn't let it get to you. You coulda hurt a lot of monsters if you let that get you angry and let us have it."

"I'm not that nice," Frisk said, their voice barely a whisper. They shook that thought clear from their head. No, they could not dump that on Undyne right now. Maybe they could tell her someday, but not now. "Is it wrong?" they asked with a quivering lip. "Is it bad to want my mom and dad? Am I wrong to want to forgive them so easily if it means they'll take me back?"

Undyne ruffled Frisk's hair. "Nah, I don't think there's any problem at all, Frisk. Sounds to me like you've been getting jerked around a whole bunch. It ain't a bad thing to want everyone to play by your rules for a change. So how about it? What do you want to do about all this?"

Frisk thought about that. Silas had said the couple would only want Frisk if they were truly their child. "I want to know that they're my parents."

Undyne nodded. "That's a good place to start. Let's go home, I'll take care of the cooking tonight. Hey, what's with that face, I've gotten really good at it, I haven't burned a house down in a whole month! C'mon, up you get. I can get you across town faster than you can say, 'Stop, you're gonna run somebody over'!" She offered her back to them. Frisk managed a tiny smile as they crawled up, letting their legs dangle over her shoulders. She grabbed onto their ankles to keep them in place and shouted, "Next stop, Casa de Undyne Surface Edition! NYAAAAAAAAGH!"

From their perch Frisk laughed. Things were not as bad as they feared. They still had good friends. Maybe things would turn out okay after all.

It had been dark for some time when Alphys heard a knock on the metal door of her lab. She jumped a little, having been startled out of her work. Did Undyne forget the passcode again? No, Undyne would not have bothered knocking, she would have just steamrolled right in. Come to think of it, wasn't Undyne late getting home? Alphys checked her phone to find a text message from Undyne; apparently she would be staying with Frisk for a little while. Huh? Why would that be? Undyne had mentioned she had something to talk to Silas and Toriel about now that the crowds around the lab had dissipated, but-

The knock repeated, a little more half-hearted than before. Right, a visitor! Alphys steeled her nerves. Maybe it was a late reporter? Or one of those Humans First cranks? Shoot, she really wished Undyne could be here! She walked up to the door and pushed a button to unlock it. The double doors opened up. Standing on her steps was Toriel, but not like Alphys had ever seen her. Her face sagged, her ears drooped, and her eyes seemed to lack the life and spark they usually had. Her lower lip quivered and she swallowed before asking in a hollow voice, "Have you a bed to spare for a poor failure of a mother?"

Alphys' fear melted away. She did not know what had happened but she did not need to. She knew that look. She had been there too. She wordlessly moved aside to allow Toriel in. The boss monster walked inside with slow plodding steps and the automatic door closed behind her.

AN: Happy Holidays everyone!