The playground was cordoned off from the rest of the world by a chain link fence with dark slats blocking line of sight in or out; the only usable entrance led back into the school building, though there was a one-way gate for emergencies. At one time there had been a swingset, monkey bars, a slide, all the typical accoutrements of play. Now, however, most of that equipment had been hauled away once it had become too worn down to be safe, leaving only a sandbox where they had been surrounded by a sea of asphalt. Not that removing unsafe toys prevented injuries; it was up to the children to decide how to spend their recess, and if children are left to their own devices they will eventually find ways to harm themselves. Two lines of children faced each other, locked hand in hand while they swung their arms in tune with their song. "Red rover, red rover, let Greg come on over!" cried one line. One child from the other line, Greg, separated and ran toward the opposing team. He slammed into the line, attempting to strike hard enough to break the children's grip on each others hands. Had he succeeded he would have returned to his own line. But he failed, and so he now found himself on the team opposite his former compatriots. Now the other line of children sang, "Red rover, red rover, let Jenny come over!" And play continued.
Some distance away two children were away from the group. One sat on the asphalt and spoke haltingly over what they had faced the last couple days. They did not mention monsters, but had said their foster parent had torn them away from the woman taking care of them and also promised to keep them from seeing their bio parents, a cause he was ultimately successful at. And they spoke of their bio parents, the ones who had come looking, but as soon as their child was found they turned and walked away, never to return. The other, sitting in a wheelchair and squinting into the sun's rays, listened dutifully until the story was over.
Oswald's face scrunched up. "That… is completely screwed up."
Frisk nodded, sniffling and rubbing their eye. "Yeah. S-sorry for talking so much."
"Don't worry about it. I pretty much dropped it all out on you when we first met."
"Not the same. You were testing me."
Oswald exhaled once in what might have been a chuckle. "You saw through that? Man. Should have figured, though. So what are you going to do now?"
"I'm staying with a friend," Frisk evaded. "I don't ever want to see Silas again."
"Red rover, red rover, let Brittney come over!"
Oswald inhaled, and when he exhaled he seemed more tired than ever. "But I mean, you have to, right? He's your foster dad. Even if he sucks he's supposed to take care of you. What's going to happen if they find out you're not with him?"
Frisk winced. "He gets in trouble. I get in way bigger trouble. And I'll get taken away, prob'ly."
Oswald sighed. "Look. I know I can't say much. I've always had parents who loved me. Even when I was a jerk to them. But you know better than I do. Is he really the worst foster parent you've had? The worst you've heard of?"
If Frisk was being honest, no, not by a long shot. They had heard of foster parents working the kids in their care like slaves. They had heard of foster parents who screamed at kids, or beat them, or worse. And of course there were Chara's memories still dancing in their head, even the little snippets of which filled Frisk with rage. But still, in their anger they could still not forgive Silas. Their little kid crush had twisted and reversed itself, so even the thought of Silas disgusted them. They really did not want to see him anymore. But if they did not, what would become of them?
"Red rover, red rover, let Charlie come over!"
"Know what?" Oswald said. "Forget I asked. But how come you're not playing with the other kids? You'd have more fun running around with them than lazing around with the cancer kid."
Frisk shook their head. "They don't want to play with me," they lamented. "Nobody does."
"I wouldn't worry about that," Oswald said. "Kids our age can change for no reason at all. One day you're a nobody, next you're the cool kid. And maybe a couple days later you end up in a clique. It happens. You said you moved around a lot, how long do you usually stick around?"
Frisk shrugged. "Couple weeks. A month. Never been at one school this long before."
"There, see?" Oswald said. "Any day now, the other kids'll-"
There had been a rhythm to the game, a steady cadence which was now delayed. It was only for a moment, maybe two, but it set the two kids on edge without understanding why. The further line released their grips for a moment and cupped their hands around their mouths, shouting as loud as they could, "Red rover, red rover, let Frisk come on over!"
Both children raised their heads toward the other kids. They cheered, waved, and beckoned as Frisk looked over as if to say, "Yes, you heard right!" Frisk very nearly jumped to their feet right away, but at the last second looked over to Oswald. If they left to go play he would be alone…
"Go on," Oswald said, the corners of his lips curved into a weak smile. "I was gonna leave after recess anyway. Thanks for keeping me company, maybe I'll see you tomorrow." He gave them one more nod and started wheeling himself around, back towards the school building. Frisk wondered for a moment whether this was another test… but decided against it. Oswald really was tired, and he really did want them to go play. And maybe this was just what they needed to vent some of their frustration.
Frisk broke into a run as the children of both lines cheered and hollered. The line that had called Frisk lined up, arms clasped in an effort to keep them out. Frisk aimed directly for two girls whose hands looked like weak grips, only remembering the rules at the second before impact. If they broke through the line they would have to go back to where they came from. Normally that meant the other line, but in Frisk's case it meant outside the game entirely. If they wanted to play, they had to lose. Though they were too late to stop entirely they were able to brake hard enough that the line bounced them back as if it were a rubber band. The girls who stopped them laughed and opened their hands to make room for Frisk. They settled into the space made for them. They swung their hands back and forth and the girls at each side of them giggled and joined them. It felt good. It felt nice. The other line called a name but it was not Frisk's so they did not pay much mind to it. They were not paying attention to much of anything right now.
So they were completely taken aback when a few voices on the other side of the line called out, "Red rover, red rover, let Kyle come over!"
Oh. Oh no.
Kyle had been suspended following the sucker punch they gave Frisk, but their punishment time was over. Frisk had so many other things to worry about they completely forgot about his return, and they were so happy to be part of the game they neglected to see who else was playing. They looked over at the other line and found Kyle staring back at them. They locked eyes for a moment. Then Kyle grinned sadistically, confirming Frisk's worst fears.
"He's coming for us," the girl next to Frisk whispered out the side of her mouth. "Hey, let go of Jessie's hand when he gets close. Don't worry, I gotcha." Frisk was not entirely sure what the girl "got" and was more than a little unsure whether she would really protect them, but the alternative was getting charged into by a hundred pound goon unprotected. They nodded and took a deep breath.
Kyle broke into a sprint, and sure enough made directly for Frisk. Not aiming for their hands either, but instead clearly looking to shoulder-check them at full power. Frisk swallowed. They could not even turn or use their arms to soften the blow. If the other girl betrayed them right now they were going to get badly hurt. Kyle stampeded closer, close enough now that Frisk could see the plaque on his teeth. Frisk let go of one hand; the girl who had whispered to them yanked hard on Frisk's other hand, pulling them out of the way just as Kyle leapt shoulder-first. Kyle fell into the new gap opened up, and having leaned too far forward to put extra power into his attack instead fell to the ground, skidding against the asphalt.
The lines broke up instantly, both teams running over to see if Kyle was okay. He seethed and groaned, but did not shed a single tear. Having taken their own share of spills Frisk was sure he was bleeding at the shoulder where he hit the ground, but an outside observer would conclude he was perfectly fine. "What the fuck," he complained. "You're not supposed to dodge out of the way!"
"And you're not supposed to run right at people!" The girl who pulled Frisk aside said. "What's your problem with Frisk, anyway? You keep attacking them, but you're the one who started it! Just leave them alone!" A quick look around the crowd revealed most everyone's head was nodding, perhaps more to castigate Kyle than defend Frisk but they would take what they could get.
"Whatever," Kyle huffed, holding his shoulder. "It's only until your foster folks get sick of you, anyway." With that he gave Frisk one more hateful glance before turning to walk away.
Frisk's hands balled into fists. Their shoulders shook and their face twisted into a furious grimace. "Frisk?" someone called to them from what sounded like very far away. It was a familiar voice but it lacked urgency, and that made it easy to ignore.
Instead Frisk muttered, "Big words, from someone too scared for a fair fight."
"What was that?!" Kyle spun on his heel and stormed up to Frisk chest-first to invade their space. "Say it again, Freak, I dare you!"
"Frisk!" The shouting voice was panicked now, and Frisk felt a hand grab their elbow to hold them back.
"I said!" Frisk screamed, shaking off the hand and bumping chests with Kyle. "You're a stupid shiggenchit coward!"
No one knew who threw the first punch. Even Frisk could not be sure whether they were lashing out or reacting to Kyle raising his fists. They struck each other at nearly the same time: Kyle went for the head and scored a glancing blow off Frisk's cheek but Frisk's left hand came up and punched Kyle in the side, aiming for a blow to the liver. They struck home but Kyle managed to grab Frisk's shoulder and lean into them with his body weight, dragging them down with him as his body went into freefall. Now they were wrestling on the ground, where the difference in size and brute strength favored Kyle. Kyle was trying to get a good hold on Frisk while they countered by striking at any vulnerable point they could find. Frisk was confident in their fighting ability, but even they had to admit it could have gone either way before two teachers forcibly dragged them away from each other, and then whether they won the fight was the last thing Frisk needed to be worried about.
A short while later Frisk told their side of the story to principal Sullivan. Once they were done they left while Kyle got his turn. They sat on a plastic chair in the hallway.
Their ghost friend had their back to them. Their shoulders quivered, and now that there were no other sounds Frisk could hear a high pitched giggle. "Chara? Are you okay?"
Chara raised their head but did not turn around. "Oh!" they cried with obviously faked joy. "So now you want to listen to me!"
Frisk grimaced. Chara had tried to stop them in the lead up to the fight and they ignored them. "I didn't mean it, I just got mad. Haven't you ever lost your temper?"
Chara whirled around and Frisk knew immediately they had said the wrong thing. Chara's eyes had turned completely black, and a viscous goo that smelled like rotting flowers dribbled from the corners of their eyes and mouth. "Once," they answered. "You know exactly how that turned out."
Frisk swallowed, fighting the urge to sidle away from them. "I… I'm sorry. I didn't-"
"When you told me you killed Undyne, I don't think I really believed you. But I believe it now. This is what you were talking about, isn't it? This is the side of you that you used your powers to hide, from me and everyone else. You get angry, you stop thinking, and you hurt people."
Their hands balled into fists. "Kyle was being a jerk! He deserved it!"
Chara's eyes narrowed. "Do you think I give a shit if you hurt a human? And I'm a ghost so you can't hurt me if you wanted to. But if a monster had tried to stop you even you pushing them out of the way like you did to me could have wounded them. If Toriel had been in your way the other night and you shoved her out of the way, you could have seriously hurt her. If Kyle were a monster he would be dead right now. If you lose control at the wrong time with the wrong person, you're going to do something that can't be taken back. You are a danger to monsters, that's what I care about!" They waved their arms about. "This, this? Cannot keep happening!"
"It won't," Frisk sighed, sinking into their seat. "It's over."
The black stuff stopped dribbling but the color did not return to Chara's eyes just yet. "What did you say?" they asked. "What does that mean, 'it's over'? What is over, Frisk?"
They did not get a chance to answer them. Two adults had arrived and stopped in front of the principal's office. One of them Frisk did not recognize; the other they unfortunately did. One corner of Silas' cheeks pinched back, like he was trying to smile but did not feel it. "Not the way I would have chosen for us to reunite," Silas said. "How have you been? Is Undyne taking good care of you?"
Frisk kept their head bowed. "'M fine."
The principal's door opened. "Ah, Mr. Pembrooke, Mrs. Chesterfield. You're just in time. Bring Frisk in with you, if you please? Thank you."
Frisk winced. Exactly as they thought. The parents had been called. They had been here enough times to know what this meant. With a disgusted sigh they pushed themself out of the seat and walked back into the office.
Everyone took their seats, Principal Sullivan behind the oak desk and the parents serving as a buffer between the children on the other side. The woman, apparently Kyle's mother, was the first to speak: "So what is this I hear about my son? This…" She was obviously trying to work out whether to call Frisk a boy or a girl, which they would have enjoyed in other circumstances but right now felt like they were under a laser beam. "… This child and my son were fighting? I pay a lot of taxes so Kyle can be safe while his father and I are at work. Why are you not able to keep him out of trouble?"
The principal shrugged. "Our goal here is to educate; there are limits to what we can do about problems with behavior. Starting last week, Kyle and Frisk have had trouble interacting with each other. I was hoping you could tell me something about why that might be the case."
Mrs. Chesterfield straightened in her seat. "It's possible that Kyle has been acting out. It's not his fault, the whole family has had a rough time. My mother, Kyle's grandmother, died last week. You remember? How we asked you to let him know and that we'd pick him up after school? And then the trouble started… it seems pretty obvious to me that Frisk got under his skin and kept needling him. It's not his fault, he's been under stress recently…"
Kyle's face darkened and his fists clenched. He pointedly looked away from Frisk. Even if it explained his behavior, Kyle did not want an excuse, especially if it exposed an emotional weakness. Frisk, however, felt their heart drop into their stomach. That was why Kyle never showed up for the duel; he had to deal with a death in the family, and he must not have had the heart for a schoolyard fight anymore. And then Frisk called him a coward… they had him all wrong.
Frisk waited for Silas to reciprocate; to tell the principal that hey, his kid was having a rough time too so they deserved some pity. They honestly did not know whether they wanted him to or not. They did not want their personal life exposed to the principal or to Kyle, but if Silas did not even try to defend them it would confirm every nasty thought they would have about him and lock in what the rest of the day would look like.
Silas nodded. "I see," he said simply. "What are your thoughts on the matter, Mr. Sullivan?"
The principal laid out his judgment: "We try to keep things quiet and peaceful. We can't have two children at each other's throats, creating a dangerous situation for all the other students. Think of how anxious you would be as a child, knowing a scuffle could break out at any time and you might be caught in the crossfire. It is rather immaterial who started the fight, both of them must be punished."
Kyle mother shook her head. "Ridiculous… if you taught your child to control themself better, none of this would have happened!"
This was all part of the dance. Silas would apologize and shake his head, and the other parent would tell him to take better care of his kid, and when they got home he would call Ms. Ashland and give Frisk back. And Frisk would never-
"I would actually say it's rather important who 'started it'," Silas said with a sigh. "Self-defense allows one to strike back when they are attacked unlawfully, so who threw the first punch is a critical question. I seem to recall last week Frisk returned home with a black eye after being assaulted. Was it your child that did that?"
Kyle's mother sniffed and raised her chin. "That may well be the case, but my Kyle is certainly not at fault this time. Frisk insulted them, and that's what started the fight!"
Silas rolled his eyes. "The 'fighting words' defense implies a provocation so extreme that a reasonable person would have no choice but to attack. As society gets less violent, people have steadily raised the bar of what constitutes fighting words. It has been carved up piece by piece over the last few decades, to the point where it may as well not exist. I don't believe any insult by a child barely half his size, regardless of how well-crafted, could clear that bar in your son's case."
"You're talking as if this were a criminal court!" she howled. "They're… they're children! You can't trust a child to contain their emotions like an adult!"
"Then what standard should we judge them by? If we expect children to grow into fine adults, we cannot treat them with a standard less just than one we hold ourselves to."
"Enough," the principal said wearily. "I have no interest in conducting an investigation between two children when I have nearly a thousand more I need to keep track of. It's true that Kyle just came off a previous suspension, but since it's possible they were being egged on I'm inclined to show leniency. Both of them are suspended for the rest of the day. After that you are not to interact any more. Don't talk, don't join each other's games, just stay away from each other. You aren't even in the same class so it should not be that difficult. It's detention if either of you approaches the other, and further suspensions will follow if I hear any more trouble between you two. Is that clear?"
Frisk and Kyle both sang, "Yes Mr. Sullivan," in the tone children used when they were not actually listening and just wanted the adults to stop talking.
"Good," the principal said with a sigh, either not knowing or not caring about the children's insincerity. "Take them home. I'll let your teachers know you won't be returning to class today."
The parents gave thanks just as insincere as their children's, and gave each other challenging looks as they left side by side. Kyle and Frisk followed them out, Kyle continuing to walk with his mother while Silas stopped outside the office to straighten his tie. "A truly good compromise leaves nobody happy," Silas recited to himself with a sigh. "Come along, we're going home."
"Why bother?" they said. He may have changed things slightly, but the path was still set. They would arrive back to a home without Toriel, and then they'd be shipped back to the group home.
"At the very least you should say hello to Toriel, tell her you're okay."
"So you want me to go back to a lady you called a… child aboosher?"
Silas slicked his hair back. "It isn't like that, Frisk, and I think you know that too. Toriel and I… worked out our differences. I was too hasty when I spoke before, and I apologize."
You'll forgive your hasty friend, won't you?
Frisk grit their teeth as the words they said to someone else replayed in their head. "Fine," they grumbled, walking up to Silas with a bit of a stomp in their step. He did not take their offered hand. Okay, fine, they would go with him, but they were not going to let him off the hook. Not that easily.
Going back home was more fraught than Silas expected. Frisk sat in the passenger seat with their head down and their hands in their lap. They studiously avoided looking at Silas. He maneuvered his way through the early afternoon traffic, mostly going in the other direction as workers attempted to return to work from their lunch break. Frisk had not said a word since they set off and they did not look like they were going to. Alright, drastic measures. He flipped his turn signal on and turned off the lane, setting the car into Park once they were out of the way.
Frisk raised their head, growing confused once they realized they had not yet arrived at the condo. "What're we stopping for?"
Silas answered, "Before we arrive home, I wanted a chance to talk to you."
Frisk turned to look out the window, propping their elbow up against the car door and their chin on their hand. "If you want to talk, talk. 'M not stopping you."
Not the most auspicious beginning. Silas tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. "I wanted to apologize," he said. "For dismissing you. You were trying to tell me what was important to you and I brushed you off. I also tried to keep what I knew about… about your parents from you. I did not want you to get your hopes up." Frisk snorted, still not facing him. "I also wanted to apologize for not running after you the other day. I'm sure you felt lonely and abandoned when you realized I was not following. It… must have confirmed some things you were thinking about me. I don't know how much of this you'll understand, or even if it matters. But I wanted to let you know that it was not as though I did not want to bring you back. I… couldn't." They paused to see if it had any effect on Frisk. It did not; it was as though he was talking to a wall. Were they tuning him out entirely? He was going to feel mighty foolish if he laid his heart bare like this and they were not paying attention. He scratched the back of his head and continued, "When I was very small, barely a few weeks old, I got very sick. Or, more correctly, my parents learned I had always been sick. My heart… I don't want to say it was put together wrong, but it was built differently. Have you learned about the heart and blood in school yet? Basically, your heart pumps blood to the lungs, where it gets the oxygen that you breathe. From there it returns to the heart and goes to the rest of the body, giving your body the energy it needs to live. The blood then returns to the heart so it can pick up more oxygen at the lungs." He traced a sideways figure eight in the air with a fingertip to illustrate. Frisk turned their head slightly but their expression was still unchanged. It was hard to tell whether they were watching behind those closed eyelids. Silas inhaled and explained, "But with my heart, the plumbing was hooked up backwards. So instead of one long stream I had two circles, one where my heart pumped blood to the lungs over and over without ever delivering oxygen to the rest of the body, and another that went from the heart to the body and back again without ever getting oxygen from the lungs." He traced two small circles in the air. Next to each other, but apart. Never touching.
They got the sense that Frisk's frown went from one of anger to one of mostly confusion. "Wouldn't you die? If you didn't get oshajin?"
Okay, good, they were asking questions, this was progress. He shrugged. "Normally, yes. With a problem like that, I should have needed surgery immediately after being born. But it went undetected for at least a little while because I had a second issue with my heart; there was a hole in one of the walls, allowing blood to mix where it shouldn't. In a normal person's heart this was a problem; in my case it meant my body was getting at least some oxygen, enough to keep me alive. But only while I was small; if nothing was done I would die before my second birthday. So they cut open my three week old chest and went and fixed my heart."
Frisk's mouth opened. "You had… shugary? When you were still a baby?"
"Surgery, yes. It wasn't perfect; some mornings I get dizzy standing up. There are some exercises I can't do. There are some medicines I can't take. My stamina is very poor as well; I can run for only a few seconds, and climbing even a single flight of stairs can knock the wind out of me. I have a huge, ugly scar that will never go away." He put a hand on his chest. "But I am alive. The thing is, all that care was very expensive. My father was wealthy back then and has only gotten richer since. Maybe not on the scale of Beatrice Lincoln, but even after paying for my surgery he still had plenty left over. If I had been born to a poor family they would have had to choose between letting me die or spending the rest of their lives in crushing debt." He tapped his hands against the steering wheel. "I thought I was so fortunate. I had done nothing to earn it, but I am alive today because I was born to a rich family. So why do I deserve to live well, when so many people who were not so fortunate have to suffer?" He was at a stoplight, so he looked over to Frisk. "Do you know the reason?"
Frisk stared at him blankly. After a moment they slowly shook their head. Silas chuckled, "There is no reason. None at all. I was born lucky, that's all. I decided long ago I owed this life to my circumstances, so I would use that good fortune to help those who did not share my luck. People that were in trouble with no one to turn to. That's why I became a defense attorney. That's why I helped the monsters. That's why… I took you in. Not because I cared about you specifically, but because I wanted to do something nice for someone. I thought if I could keep you in a good home, surrounded by the friends you made, it would be enough. I didn't… need, or want, your admiration or your trust. All I cared about was doing something good. Regardless of what you wanted or needed from me, or what you thought about my help. And in doing that I let you down, Frisk. I admit that. I was so blinded by the idea of 'helping you' that I did not consider whether you needed my help or what it should look like. I trampled on your feelings. Pretty 'heartless' of me, isn't it?"
Frisk's lower lip trembled on hearing the pun. They grasped a fistful of their shorts and swallowed. "… So what do you want?"
"I want to start again, Frisk." His voice wavered, imploring. "I want to try being a father, for real this time. I… can't promise I'll do well. In fact I might hurt you again without meaning to. But I promise this; I will listen. I'll try to understand what you really need, and what's important to you. And I want to do it for you. Not to silence my own doubts or my own reasons, but because you are a good kid and you deserve a good family. And that also means if you don't want me to be a part of that life, I'll find a way to make it work so you can stay with the monsters anyway." He had no idea how he was going to do that, but if that was what they wanted he would deliver.
Frisk studied him for a while, though he could not see their reaction behind those closed eyelids. "You are a good person," they said with a tiny smile and a sniffle. They lowered their head and thought for a long while. "I'd like to stay with you," they said finally. "Until Toriel can adopt me. And after that, I'd like to stay friends."
Silas inhaled through his nose. "Alright." He turned and smiled at Frisk. "My name's Silas, Frisk. I'm going to be your foster father for the next few months. After that, if you would like, I would be honored to call you my friend."
Frisk giggled. "So… should I be calling you Mr. Pembroke, from now on?"
"No," he said with a deep sigh. "Silas is fine if you still haven't gotten the hang of-" Frisk only giggled louder. "Oh, I get it." The giggles became laughter. Listening to Frisk making a dumb joke at his expense, Silas let himself chuckle as well. He shifted the car back into Drive. "Come on, Toriel's waiting for us at home. I'll put in a good word for you so she doesn't yell at you too much for getting suspended. Besides, she'll be happy to have you to herself for a while. She's missed you too."
And she did. When they got home she was there at the door to greet them. She was, in fact, so overjoyed she did not even scold them for fighting. She apologized for attacking them in the Underground, and even though they forgave her for that long ago she insisted it was wrong and it would never happen again. She let them in the front door, where the sweet smells of Toriel's cooking welcomed them home. Home. To their family. They realized then: the monsters were their family. The one they had been looking for all along. They heaved a great sigh.
"All that being said," Toriel huffed, putting her hands on her hips. "What is this I hear about you getting into fights at school, my child?"
Case in point. "Oh dear, it seems you have been bus~ted~" Chara sang over their shoulder, though there was a teasing lilt to their tone. Frisk lowered their head to hide their smile. They never thought they would be happy to be in trouble but here they were. This would be good. This was the perfect avenue to start being the kind of kid they deserved. Chara had been right. They had to do whatever they could to hold onto this. They could not keep on bottling up their anger until it exploded. For the sake of their family they had to be better. They would be better.
AN: Silas' heart condition is called "transposition of the greater arteries"; my wife has this condition along with a few others, and most of the information on it (as well as Silas' limitations and health concerns regarding it) come from her. I admit there is a slight anachronism: Silas would have been born in the modern era, and nowadays doctors scan for congenital birth defects as a routine check. His defect would not have been undetected until after birth, as depicted in the flashback scene waaaaay back in chapter 2.
This is the end of Arc 2, "Families of Choice". There will be a short interlude detailing a major event between this arc and the next; Arc 3 will begin in chapter 32.
