"And Toriel…" Napstablook added quietly from where they hovered next to Chara. "I hope we aren't bothering you… my cousin wanted to meet my friends from the Ruins…"
Frisk couldn't help the wry smile on their face. Napstablook was being sneaky. They knew that Frisk knew Chara. Of course, it wasn't surprising that Chara had convinced the other ghost not to reveal their identity. That would be way too confusing for Mom, at least for now.
"Please, you are not bothering us at all!" Mom beamed. "I was not expecting company—but, I am more than happy to have you! Come in."
She stepped aside, letting the two ghosts float past. Chara gave Frisk a discreet wink.
"We were just about to eat, but, ah…"
"We brought our own food," Chara said, shaking the plate of cookies slightly. "Like my cousin said, we're just here for the company."
Chara came back. Chara wanted to come back.
"In that case, there are plenty of seats at our table." Mom smiled at Chara, then looked down at Frisk. "That is, if my child is alright with that?"
Frisk nodded quickly, still speechless.
"Thank you…" Napstablook smiled back.
Mom pulled out chairs for both of them, despite the fact that ghosts couldn't sit. Chara and Napstablook didn't seem to mind. They hovered above the wooden seats as Frisk set the table.
"Um…" Frisk's brow furrowed. Did ghosts need silverware?
"Cool knives." Chara grinned.
Frisk giggled and put a butterknife on top of Chara's napkin.
Savory spices filled the air as Mom brought out the special holiday dish—a platter of giant, stuffed snail shells. Frisk's mouth started watering, but they snuck a glance at Napstablook. Would they be upset to see their snails baked like this?
"Oh… those look beautiful… I bet the snails are proud to be cooked so professionally…"
"Ah, erm. Thank you, Napstablook." Mom's smile looked a little embarrassed.
She served Frisk and herself, her spatula hesitating afterwards. There were plenty of extra snails—Mom had baked enough for leftovers—but she seemed unsure whether or not to serve the ghosts.
"Why not. Lay one on me," Chara said, their stubby ghost hand squeezing their butterknife.
Toriel blinked. "Alright… ah, forgive me. I still have not caught your name."
Frisk held their breath.
"It's okay," Chara said. "It's Stabstablook."
They gave their knife a little wiggle. Frisk had to bite their sleeve to keep from laughing.
"Napstablook and Stabstablook." Toriel giggled, depositing the stuffed shell on Chara's plate. "Well, it is very knife to meet you!"
Chara cracked up. Cackles and snorts exploded from them, despite them not having a nose to snort with.
"Heh heh…" Napstablook joined in quieter, and then they were all laughing at the ridiculous, groan-worthy pun.
Frisk couldn't ask for a better Gyftmas present.
XXX
The snails and ghost cookies were all eaten. Even Chara—Stabstablook—had "killed" their stuffed shell, stabbing it with a magic-coated knife to turn it into ghost food.
"Thank you…" Napstablook mumbled with a smile as Mom took their empty, crumb-free plate.
"Thanks," Stabstablook echoed. "Best meal I've had in my life. Death. Whatever."
Mom was quiet, probably unsure how to react to that. Did she know how ghosts were created?
"It was my pleasure," she finally said, though. "You are welcome here any time."
Stabstablook looked away, frowning a little. It was strange, not being able to tell what they were thinking anymore. Did they miss this being their home? Or were they thinking that this would be the last time they came back?
Frisk needed to talk to them before they left. Away from Mom.
"Can I show Stabstablook my room?" they asked quickly.
Mom blinked, but nodded. "Of course, my child. Let us not keep our guests too long, though. They may want to return home before it gets late."
"Okay I won't!"
Frisk was already tugging Stabstablook towards the hall—or, trying to. Frisk couldn't actually grab their hand. Stabstablook followed without complaint, though.
The bedroom door clicked shut behind them. Stabstablook's cheeks pinkened.
"Greetings," they said formally. They only spoke that way when there was something wrong.
"You came back." Frisk gripped the ends of their sleeves. "Why did you come back? Did you miss Mom? Are you going to tell her who you are? Did you get to meet Dad—?"
"Frisk. I can only answer one question at a time." They flopped down on the floor, closing their eyes.
Did ghosts need to sleep? That question was less important than the others, right now.
"One: duh, of course I came back. Two: no comment. Three: probably not. Four: Yeah, he comes by the farm to buy snails."
Frisk had to sort through all the answers, trying to remember the order they'd asked their questions. Stabstablook had met Dad. That seemed like the most important part.
That, and they'd always planned to come back. Frisk couldn't help smiling.
"How is he?" they asked, forcing themself not to fire off even more questions.
"Picture me shrugging. He's okay, I guess. Not… not like I remember." They frowned. "But he's alive. He's not looking for you, I think. To kill you or whatever."
"That's… good, right?"
"Yeah. Probably. I don't know if he just gave up, or if he doesn't believe you're here, or what."
Frisk's brow furrowed. So many things still didn't make sense. Dad wanted to kill humans because humans killed his kids, right? So if Stabstablook told him they were Chara… and asked him not to kill Frisk… he wouldn't, right?
They asked Stabstablook as much, and to their surprise, the ghost laughed.
"Wow. I keep forgetting you don't know. Makes sense that she wouldn't have told you, I guess."
"Told me what?"
Stabstablook floated upright, their eyes opening.
"I guess it's time you find out." Their voice was somber. "It's not about revenge. It's about freedom."
Frisk opened their mouth, but the ghost continued.
"Monsters are trapped down here. It would take the power of seven human souls to break the Barrier and free us.
"Asgore already has six. Yours would be the last one."