Loving Every Bone in Your Body

by WinterSnowing

Sometimes, you liked to imagine that Frisk was this kind and sweet because of you ...That you taking the brunt force of your abusive father's hits and drunk mother's curses was worth it. You had protected them from the crappy reality of your family and… you knew that you had to protect them now / In which Frisk has an older sister that is aware of the resets.

35. Memory 4

"I'm fine, Toriel." You say for the hundredth time. "Believe me, I have a high pain tolerance." You flinch at the near glare Toriel throws you at the comment. It crumbles almost immediately. Inside her brows pinch up and she looks unbearably sad for the second before she looks away. You pull your feet up onto the bar of your stool, feeling another wave of guilt.

"That is not-" She sighs and recollects herself by refocusing on packing away the first aid-kit she'd pulled out for you. When she finishes she leaves it on the table to instead turn back to you. Her eyes glisten as she looks over your bandaged arm and hand.

"I'm fine." You say again, quieter, not sure what else to say while she holds you with that sort of look.

"My child." She breathes, stepping closer to sandwich your cheeks between two paws of soft fur. "You do not have to always be strong." You open your mouth to retort but she continues quickly. "You have me, do you not?" You abruptly shut your mouth and avoid her piercing red eyes. "You have me and all the rest of our friends to rely on and seek comfort from." One of her hands falls down to your upper arm. "Let us care for you."

You don't know what to say so you go quiet, bowing your head. Toriel stays a moment longer before kissing the top of your head and stepping away. She leaves to put the first aid kit away but you don't move.

You understood where Toriel was coming from. You really did. But suddenly changing the very aspect that you had built your entire life around wasn't so easy. Especially because you were still getting used to having to be tough all the time. Frisk and Toriel now, even Asgore. They didn't need you to be their mom.

You didn't know how to be a normal older sister. You didn't know how not to take care of Frisk like they were your child. How were you supposed to let people in behind the walls you had carefully and skillfully created to keep you safe throughout the years growing up in your godforsaken childhood home? How were you supposed to not instinctually be protective to a self sacrificing fault?

You could pretend you weren't used to the pain of being hit. Or in the instance of your current injury, shards of ceramic from a wayward vase. You couldn't count on only one hand how many times your mother had thrown a bottle at you only for it to miss, shatter, and the piece mark you instead.

How were you supposed to be a twenty-something normal person with the scars painting your skin and the memories plaguing your head?

You didn't know how and now it felt like you not being able to be normal was making the people you cared about feel like it was their fault.