(WARNING: This chapter includes unsupportive family members, depictions of depression, and references to alcohol consumption.)


"… Leese. Are you serious?"

"Do you honestly think I'd joke about something like this?"

"Well, I… God! I don't… I don't know what to think. How long have you been like this?"

"I think… always. I didn't know what to call it but I've felt uncomfortable in my own skin for as long as I could remember. You must have noticed it growing up? I had never considered I may have been born in the wrong body before, but my roommate mentioned it. She recognized the feeling I was talking about and gave it a name, 'dysphoria'. She talked about how my gender might not match the sex I was born with. And the more research I've done the more it makes sense."

"So what'd dad say?"

"… I haven't told anyone else. You're the first one in the family."

"Lucky me. You know, you being gay was rough enough on Mom and now you're gonna pull this?"

"What's… Reggie, I swear to God I'm going to hang up on you."

"Sorry, I didn't mean for it to come out that way. I'm not, accusing you? Or blaming you? I just… this is a lot to take in. Have you talked to anyone at all yet?"

"Not yet, but I will. I know the dangers of self-diagnosis, there are a couple therapists in the area who specialize in helping trans people. But this… it feels right."

"No, I mean like a shrink. You're confused and you aren't thinking straight, maybe they can give you some kind of pill to-"

"Your unconditional love and support is inspiring, brother."

"This is support, Leese! Are you even listening to yourself? You sound completely crazy! You don't think it's weird that you're off on you're own for half a year and suddenly you think you're a dude?"

"…"

"Hello? Hello?"

"…"

"… Did you hang up on me?… She hung up on me."


The visit to the doctor took less than half an hour. No shots, no awkward questions, they did not even keep them waiting long. The nurse explained what she was going to do and how Frisk's genes could be split apart and compared with other people's genes to determine if those people were their parents with near-perfect accuracy. Frisk did not really understand what DNA was, but their body having some record that could be used to identify their parents made intuitive sense even if they could not grasp the particulars.

The nurse asked Frisk to open their mouth, swabbed at the inside of their cheek, and careful locked the swab away. "And that's it!" she said. "We can use this to tell for sure if someone is your biological parents."

Frisk was a little startled. "That's all? You don't need blood or anything?"

"There's enough traces of DNA on your saliva for what we'll be doing," the nurse insisted. She added with a smirk, "Though if your heart is set on getting stuck with a needle, I can see what other tests we can-"

"NothankyouI'mfine!" Frisk leaped down from the table and ran behind Undyne to use her as a shield.

The nurse addressed Undyne, "It should take three to five days to get the results back. Frisk's guardian will need to come in person, we can't release them to any caretakers even with written permission. I hope you understand, Ms…?" She was doing her best to be courteous, but the sight of a six foot tall fish woman was not a common occurrence in any office.

"Undyne," she gave her name.

The nurse's smile got more nervous. "A-and your last name?"

"Ain't noble, don't got one. So hey, you think monsters have that 'DNA' stuff too? Like, if you got a piece of me you could tell who my parents were?"

There was a pause as the nurse seriously considered this question. "I would assume so?" she said, not at all certain of her answer. "Every other living creature on earth has it. If not, that would certainly be big news… but there must be something like DNA that makes up who you are and that you pass on to your children."

"Huh," Undyne said, scratching her chin. "So there's something to that 'dust of my dust' thing after all." She caught the nurse's confused expression and said, "Oh, old monster saying, don't worry about it. So, uh, thanks? If we're done, I guess we'll head out." As she pushed through the waiting room with Frisk in tow she grumbled, "Man, Alphys' stuff made human science look awesome, but it's pretty boring. No flashing lights or huge machines or nothing, just people doing ordinary things. And where's the giant robots? Didn't you tell me anime was real?"

Frisk thought quickly of a way to distract Undyne. "How's Toriel?"

"She's not your problem," Undyne said. "You shouldn't worry about people who hurt you."

"It's not like that," Frisk said. Then they looked up with a suspicious frown. "Or what, you're gonna say I don't know anything and let everyone else do what's best for me, too?"

"Hold on, it's not… huh." She scratched the back of her head, embarrassed. "Well, I guess I was, a little bit. Sorry, I see the striped shirt and think you need looking after, but you're the kid who freed all us monsters so you probably have a good head on your shoulders. Sorry about that!… Hey. You really miss her, huh?"

Frisk nodded. "She's nice. I can tell she cares. And… you're not wrong, but it's not right either. It's… hard to say. But if she did something wrong to me I forgive her."

"I know I wouldn't've." Undyne scratched the back of her neck and averted her eyes. "But, uh, I guess that's just not how you do things. I mean I went pretty aggro on you for a while but you don't hold it against me, so I should've figured… Anyway, you gonna forgive Silas, too?"

"It's not the same." And it was not. Momentary lapses in judgment, that Frisk could relate to. But trying to take away both of Frisk's chances at a family at once and acting like he was doing them a favor, that they did not understand and could not understand. Even today, getting in to see the doctor was a little touchy; Undyne brought them to the office after school, but since Undyne was not listed as their legal guardian they had to get a whole bunch of authorizations from Silas. He had already sent them in earlier that day but it took half an hour for them to find and verify them. Undyne thought it was convenient and thoughtful for him to do that, but she did not know the man like Frisk did. Silas could have taken the time off to drive them here himself, but he wanted so little to do with Frisk he went and signed some papers so someone else could do it. He was not even trying to apologize. Stupid Silas, stupid lawyer, stupid fake dad, stupid stupid stupid!

"I'm not gonna try to talk you into anything," Undyne said. "Least of all forgiving a human. But you're gonna have to deal with him, right? I mean, I don't get all the legal stuff, but he's still in charge of you, yeah?"

"And if I get adopted I won't have to be around him any more." Frisk caught the look on Undyne's face and softened. "I don't want to leave any of you. You're the best friends I have. So I want to stay here. That won't change."

"I hope that's the way it works out," Undyne said as they left the office.

Meanwhile, in another room in the same clinic, the Milans were getting their own tests done. "Both of us," Jose requested. "I'm not afraid of a little needle and a little blood!" The nurse left to prepare everything.

Elena looked at him askance. "You too? Shouldn't we only need a maternity test? I-I mean, if I'm their mother who else could their father be?"

"Sometimes mistakes happen, yeah?" Jose explained. "The tests aren't completely accurate. So if we both get tested what's the chance they screw up both of them? Then we'll know for sure."

She sucked in air. "Y-yes. I suppose so."

"Hey. Hey, darling, relax." He pulled her into a hug. "I said it before, yeah? If they're our child, that's good! If not, we'll look somewhere else. We both wanted kids, and… I know it's my fault we won't have more. But if we can have one, just one!, that will be enough for me." She made a non-committal hum. "We're getting them back," he promised. "We're getting our kid back."

She put her arms around him to return the hug but did not squeeze. "And what if she's not?"

"They," he corrected softly.

She winced. "What will you do if they aren't ours?"

"Then we'll keep looking," he said. "But put that out of your mind. I know Frisk is our child, I knew it the second I saw them on the news! They look just like you in your baby pictures, with the red eyes we remember. There's no chance of that!"

"I suppose you're right," she admitted, though her gaze and her thoughts seemed far away.


In yet another medical office across town, Oswald and his family waited for the final verdict. The doctor put up a few x-rays on the projector, looking back at the Rye family as he pointed to the small bones. "As you can see, there's no trace of the cancer in any of Oswald's marrow. His blood cells are also showing a decreased concentration of immature cells, and we expect that ratio to improve further. That will happen relatively quickly, as old cells die off and are replaced with healthy ones. So! There's good news and there's bad news. The bad news is, Oswald, you are going to die. The good news is, it won't be from this." He chuckled a little at his own morbid joke. Oswald's parents smiled politely and Oswald blew air out his nose in the closest approximation he could make to an actual laugh.

"So is that it?" his father asked, daring to hope. "Is it over?"

"All but the screaming, as the saying goes," the doctor explained. "We're going to need Oswald back every few months for about a year to make sure we got it all, and yearly exams after that. And it's going to be a few months before he fully recovers, so I would recommend limiting him to half days of school for a while. But that is up to you and him: if Oswald does not feel up to it he can skip school for a little or a long while, and he could even stay for a full day if he has a good day. It's a strictly case-by-case sort of thing. But everything looks good, phenomenal even. We can't say Oswald is cured until he's been in remission for 10 years, but from where I'm standing the prognosis is good."

"So I'm one of the ninety two," Oswald huffed. "Lucky me."

A normal person would have asked why he was being so sarcastic, or at least tried to cheer him up. But his parents knew. Being sick took it out of you. Sometimes there was not enough energy to fight both the disease and the selfish urge to take everything in the worst way possible, and it was clear which one would get the priority. The doctor, too, took Oswald's snark in good humor. "Indeed!" he chuckled. "You have no doubt been putting off your schoolwork, thinking you had more time, but that luck has run out! Time for you to face the backlog of classwork! But it won't be all bad." He addressed his parents, "His teachers should be made aware of his limitations, and even those should taper off as he recovers from the chemo. I suspect he'll make a full recovery by Christmas."

Oswald could only sigh. He was not looking forward to going back to school. He was going to be hopelessly lost, his mental and physical state would keep him from catching up, and surely everybody must have forgotten him by now. His eyes drifted to his cell phone in the corner. Well, maybe not everyone. He was sure at least one person would be happy to welcome him back. Maybe that was enough. He slouched in his seat, the faint beginnings of a smile on his lips.


Alphys had not quite been able to explain to Undyne why she had taken in the former queen. Undyne was clearly upset about it but figured Alphys had her reasons and neither scolded her nor attempted to pry further. But she also was not calling, and Alphys felt like she would not until Toriel was no longer there. Her guest mostly sat in an office chair, rocking back and forth, taking cup noodles if offered but making no effort to cook her own food or clean up the area. She slept where she sat and awoke staring into nothing. Alphys wanted to drag the espirospectrometer out of storage and read Toriel's soul, but the darn thing weighed hundreds of pounds so she could not do it herself. She wished, and not for the first time, that Sans had not borrowed then destroyed her prototype for the portable version years ago. Maybe she could not do anything with it herself, but that data would surely be able to assist someone else in recovering her spirit?

She had been collating the data she would need to hook up the laboratory to the human electrical grid when Toriel said, "You really are quite skilled." Alphys shrieked at the sudden noise. "I apologize. I have never watched a scientist at work before."

It took Alphys a moment to figure out she was being praised. Even if it sounded odd coming from the woman who fired her. "W-w-well! I-if I'm being perfectly honest, I'm really more of an engineer than a scientist. I've always liked, building things. Finding ways to, make them better? Rather than experiments. And I think that trend will, you know, continue. After, uh, everything."

Toriel displayed no emotion, no recognition at the phrase. Instead she asked, "Has it occurred to you that I lacked the authority to relieve you of your position?"

Alphys stopped. "O-oh? Well, I mean, I sorta figured that, you know, I could've fought it. If I wanted. B-b-but if you hadn't fired me I probably would have resigned. Even if the amalgamates are living with their families and happy now, and even if I can't be… arrested for what I did, that doesn't make it right. I c-c-can't be trusted with that much power."

Toriel leaned her head back and chuckled. "'Cannot be trusted…' Yes, I suppose that is true. Someone who cannot be trusted in a position has no right to it, regardless of their feelings."

"And it doesn't change much!" she said. "Asgore still wants me to do my thing… for, some reason. I'm still in charge of all the top projects. So what if I lost a fancy title? It never meant that much any-"

"Silence yourself." The words crackled like a thunderbolt and rooted Alphys to the spot. Toriel's claws dug into the armrests on her chair and her jaw trembled. Her eyes burned and Alphys wondered for a moment whether she would see the queen's anger return. But just as quickly as it came the fire left her. She slumped in the chair with her head lolling to one side. "I apologize," Toriel said in a shaky and tired voice. "I am a guest. It is… unconscionable for me to display such rudeness."

"I-it's okay," Alphys said. "It's fine, really! Uh, do you need anything? Food, a drink, a blanket, anything?"

Toriel shook her head. "You have already done… more than I deserve."

… Alphys really wanted that device. She had always been told that Boss Monsters could not Fall Down, but… if not, what was this…?


Silas did not think much of it when Frisk did not come home. Undyne informed him Frisk would be staying over at her place and she would be back to collect a few of their things. She also tossed something like, "And you'll stay away from them until they're ready if you know what's good for you" at him, but he did not think much of it. Nor did he concern himself with Toriel; when he called to tell Asgore he was gruffly informed that she was staying over at Toriel's. Asgore was so frigid Silas thought the phone would freeze in his hands from his voice. Likely he was making his own assumptions, but that too would pass. Once everyone calmed down they would see reason, recognize he was correct, and they could all move on.

The next day he was momentarily surprised to not see Toriel in the kitchen happily making dinner and Frisk on the couch with headphones on going over the day's lessons from school, until he remembered what had happened the other day. The house was as cold and empty as he had left it that morning. In fact, a pot had been left on the stove where Toriel had left it, last night's dinner. He had forgotten to pack it away the previous night and it had congealed in the pot. If she had been cooking with magic it was probably still good… but what if she had not? The burner was off, but all that meant was that she may have had the presence of mind to turn it off before she stormed out, and she had been doing a lot more cooking with the stove lately. He briefly considered adding some water to return the stew to life before deciding the risk was not worth it. He deposited the entire dish in the trash and ended up throwing a freezer-burned TV dinner in the microwave for dinner. When he went to check on Frisk even more items from their room were gone. Undyne must have come back and taken more things; the bed, the dresser, the desk. Only a few posters on the wall remained. Asgore was not speaking to him at all now, instead routing things through his secretary Camille. She informed Silas Asgore was busy with Mayor Cole unveiling the order that would allow monsters to work and live in Weymouth. Obviously a big thing for monsters, too important to make time for pleasantries. Silas put it from his mind. But it was distracting how quiet the condo had become, and he found himself missing Toriel's food.

By the time the weekend rolled around he was no longer able to lie to himself. The true enormity of the situation struck him. Frisk's room was empty; they had no intention of returning. Asgore was not returning his calls. Although he had Undyne's number she reacted to him with barely restrained hostility. She informed him Frisk was not willing to talk to him. Calls to the lab went straight to voice mail, where he was greeted with a notification that the voice mailbox was full followed by a disconnected line.

He hung up the phone and ran a hand through his hair as the front door opened without so much as a knock. Susan Liao strode in with a clear mission, locking eyes with Silas. "I got the story about what happened from Undyne," she said.

"My number one fan," he said dryly.

Susan shrugged. "She's not really taking sides in this. She's kind of pissed at both of you. Are you still full of self-righteous anger and ready to rail about how everyone in the world is stupid except you? I can come back later if you are."

Silas sighed and waved his hand in the air. "You were right, Susan. You were absolutely right. I wasn't cut out to be a foster father. I thought it was all very simple and everything would work out, but I didn't have a single clue what I was doing. If Frisk didn't hate me before they do now, but I'm still responsible for them. I can't hold onto them. I can't let Toriel have them. I can't let the Milans have them. And I can't do nothing. I sure have… made a complete mess of things."

Susan nodded. "Soooo, self-recrimination. I can work with that." She dangled her car keys from her finger with a grin on her lips. "C'mon, I'm getting you drunk. If you're going to sit around feeling sorry for yourself you might as well hit rock bottom."

Oh for God's sake. "It's a Saturday night. You can't take me out to a bar, Susan."

"Of course I can, you're a cheap drunk. Up you get!" She grabbed Silas by the wrist and dragged him out of the house, grabbing his coat with her other hand as she passed the coatrack.

Silas protested, "The last time you dragged me out somewhere against my will, we ended up meeting literal monsters in the middle of the woods."

"I know right? Maybe this time we'll find space aliens."

Silas sighed and gave up fighting.


Susan was right about one thing: Silas was a cheap drunk. After two beers he was already feeling the effects. He slurred out his part of the whole mess to Susan. From Undyne meeting up to Toriel's confession to him spilling the beans about Frisk's parents. Susan got a wristband marking her as a designated driver, entitling her to half off all drinks but barring her from having any alcohol. She calmly sipped her soda and listened to him prattle on.

"I don't know what I'm going to do," he admitted once he was finished. "Next week Ms. Ashland will come over and see that neither Frisk nor any of their things are there. I'll have to tell her where they are and what happened to them, and she's going to yank Frisk away back into the system. Undyne can't legally care for Frisk long-term and CPS isn't going to let her take them. And with the delicate political balance… Mayor Cole's plan will go over like a lead balloon if stories of a child being kidnapped by monsters hits the news." He slammed his head against the bar, making glasses shake all along the line and earning him a few filthy looks. "I really screwed this up for everyone."

Susan dismissed him with a wave of her hand while swallowing her last sip of cola. "What's the big deal? As long as they come back there's no problem."

"Frisk won't come back," Silas despaired. "They hate me."

"Why do you think they hate you? Just because they said so?" Susan knocked against Silas' head, making a noise like it was hollow. "Children aren't tiny adults. They don't think or see things in the same way. They don't have all the words or experience to know how to express their feelings. They can't communicate their wants and needs clearly no matter how much they might want to." Susan stirred her soda with a straw while she put her thoughts together. "They're probably upset, yeah. But to be fair you kind of have that effect on people."

"It's not enough for me to grovel for forgiveness, is it?" Silas complained. "You have to twist the knife while you're at it."

"It's the truth," she stuck out her tongue. "But… look. I get to see Frisk every day. I know what they're like. They're under a lot of stress and haven't developed healthy ways of releasing it. So they're taking it out on you."

"So they scream at the one person who has no ulterior motives in helping them? That doesn't seem very fair."

"Of course it's not fair, they're a kid! That's what I'm telling you!" She tapped an index finger against his nose. "And let's not pretend you don't have motives of your own. Oh come on, I'm not accusing you of anything sinister. You really do want to help them. But… at some point, the story in your head stopped being about them finding their way and recovering, and started being about you as their savior. Right?"

Silas had been about to take another sip of his drink but stopped with the glass halfway to his lips. His eyes narrowed and he stared at Susan out of the corner of them. "And how are you so sure of that?"

"Because that's the way you've always been. You can't just let bad things happen. If the world is unfair you have to make it a better place. I think, and this has never changed for one second, that's really noble. It's one of your best qualities. But you care so much about people that it blinds you to the person. You want so badly to be the hero that you're not willing to be the sidekick. You can't see that you don't have to change the world to do good in it. What I'm trying to say is… Sai, sometimes it's not about you."

He was about to give her a stern rebuke about the heavy use of 'you' statements when something across the bar caught his eye. A group of five young people entered the bar, laughing and joking with each other. That was not too strange, a group going bar hopping on a Saturday night was almost commonplace. But this group was headed by a particular person, one whom Silas under no circumstances wanted to see. "Shit," he said, turning to look for a rear exit. He found it, but realized in time he would be in deep trouble if he ran off without settling his tab. Forgetting in his panic Susan had offered to cover his drinks, he fumbled for his wallet for the critical few seconds it took the guests to notice them.

"Big bro!" Reginald Pembrook Jr. called out with a big wave. "Didn't expect to see you here. Oh, hey, Susan! It's pretty nice you've got a good relationship with your ex. Hey, did he ever apologize for…?"

"For breaking up with me by text?" Susan laughed. "Heck no. Have you ever heard him apologize for anything?"

Silas was quite thoroughly annoyed at being the butt of the universe's jokes. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his tone colder than his beer. "Does father know you're out on the town?"

Reggie either missed the hostility or chose to ignore it. "Of course not, I told him I was too busy to come up so I can go where I want and not be stuck in his stuffy old house! And I brought some of my college buddies up to see the old place. You know, see the sights, and especially meet the people! Hey, can you get the monsters to come down and show them off? You should've seen Mandy when she caught sight of Asgore on the news, licking her chops like he was a piece of meat!"

One of the girls with cropped brown hair, Mandy apparently, covered her face while laughing, "I did not!"

"So you're the lawyer!" one of the young men said. "Reggie's told us so much about you."

"Everything he said is lies," Silas snapped.

"Oh no, don't worry," the same man reassured him. "It was only good things!"

Silas felt a smile play across his lips in spite of himself. "In that case everything he said is definitely lies." They shared a laugh.

"Silas told a joke," Reggie said in awe. He asked Susan, "Hey, how much did you give him?!"

"I didn't think it was that much," she said in mock amazement. "But, it's been about a month since his last joke. He was about due."

"All right all right," Silas said. "That's quite enough. Who are your friends?"

Reggie friends introduced themselves; Silas promptly forgot all their names, though in his defense he was not forgetting them on purpose. They simply slipped out of his mind like the last sliver of soap slipped through his hands in the shower. Despite this he enjoyed their company; they talked about what their school life was like, something that was just far enough in Silas' past to be nostalgic about, and chronicled their wild escapades. Silas, though he was never a party animal, still recounted with amusement the tale of a classmate who fell asleep in Philosophy and woke up in Meteorology. They laughed, though they kept shooting glances at Reggie, who shrunk under their stares. Was something going on? In his addled state he had not realized that Susan had left to go to the bathroom at the same time Reggie's friends migrated away from the bar, leaving the two brothers alone. Exactly where he did not want to be.

"I meant it," Reggie tried to break the ice. "It's great you're still friends with Susan. You know I had a crush on her in middle school? I could never figure what she saw in… a guy like you." Was he…? Silas studied his brother. He knew that lilted smile, that hangdog look. Silas cringed as Reggie continued, "Look, I know. I fucked up bad. I was a shitty teenager and a shitty brother. I wish I could've been better, but I wasn't. I let you down. And I can't take it back and I can't give you the support you needed back then, but… I'm sorry. I want to make it up to you but I don't know how."

Silas shook his head. He did not know how either. He was not ready to forgive him yet. But. "I wouldn't mind hanging out with your friends, even if they're too old to need me to buy booze for them. They're nice people."

He nodded. "Yeah. I told them what happened when I saw you back home. They, uh, dope slapped me for it. Sorry, about being an asshole back there. I'm still learning. And I'll probably screw up again, too. But, uh, I still have your number… you want me to give you a ring if they're coming with me again the next time I'm in town?"

"Or I'll give you a call, if I happen to come down that way. You're only, what, an hour and a half away? It's not impossible for me to end up there."

Reggie smiled and laughed. "Yeah… yeah, sure! Just let me know, I'd love to show you around! Just, uh, maybe only on a Tuesday or Thursday, after 4? My Monday-Wednesday-Fridays are booked up with classes and studying, you know?"

"Of course I know, I haven't been out of school that long. By the way, how are you getting back if you didn't tell father you were in town? Getting someone to drive you all the way back to Massachusetts is going to be expensive." Reggie pointed out his wristband, identical to the one Susan had been wearing. "Well what do you know, you got responsible quick."

"Wasn't my choice," he admitted. "I drew the short straw." Silas shook his head with a knowing smile as Susan returned, prompting the end of the conversation.

Forgiveness was not a thing you earned in one grand act of redemption. Repairing trust could not be done in a day. It took lots of little moments, quiet gestures of support, and an honest assessment of what has been done and how you can do better going forward. And maybe it was impossible. For some relationships there was no way forward, no way to earn back their trust. Even if you did it was a tentative, fragile thing, nothing like what it was before. But it could be done, with determination.

It was like that with Frisk, too, wasn't it? Silas had never even tried to see things from their point of view. Never thought about what they wanted or needed, only focusing on what he thought they needed. Looking back he thought of a dozen or more times they reached out to him for affection only to get slapped down. And then he got possessive, pushing away everyone that might have given them the closeness and love they needed. Of course they would get angry at him.

And then there was Toriel. He felt a sinking pit open in his stomach. Where did he get off denouncing her with such self-righteous drivel? He barely understood half the story and he considered that enough to condemn her. In the same room that he formulated a plan to let Asgore get away with six child murders, he refused any clemency for Toriel's actions. Perhaps her crime was more intimate, more personal, and therefore more severe. But it was not, and never had been, his role to dole out punishment. Attacking the guilty had never been who he was. He was supposed to be a friend to the accused. That was his job. Right now Toriel had no one in the world in her corner. He had to be on her side. He couldn't not be and look at himself in the mirror.

"Water," he asked the bartender. It was time to sober up. He could not afford to waste his Sunday nursing a hangover. He had work to do.