It was, surprising in some respects that Chara found the story to be as relaxing as she had. Quickly being entranced with the character, and her quirky adventure. Her strange companion, the doctor helping guide her through a world of danger. Oddly, she didn't seem to like the doctor character very much. Requesting numerous times for the dialogue to be said quicker, or skipped.
Ultimately, though, the end result was the sleeping child presently sprawled out across her. In such a fashion it was uncomfortable, but not overtly oppressive. In truth, she was a bit too old for such things, or would have been. By far.
"Chara?" The woman asked quietly, nudging her.
Closing the book after a moment more. The dark tome came to rest on the spot above her fireplace. This was often how these stories ended, these strange little dreams. The odd glimpses of light against her otherwise perpetual nightmares. Thinking over it, she was glad it had lasted so long. Hoping it could be remembered and wouldn't be forgotten as soon as she awoke.
A glance to the side revealed that even the Flower had fallen to sleep. Toriel briefly contemplated destroying it, her perpetual pest. Always following her, always trying to get in her way. She hadn't forgotten that face it made, just to taunt her. But...it didn't really matter here. This version, at least, seemed to have learned a lesson the real one ought to as well.
Letting out a long sigh, she felt the need to enjoy the serenity. Carefully raising Chara in her arms. The chair creaking some as she rose. Cradling the girl, who hugged her as she slept.
"Silly child, you always fell asleep before the best part." She said sadly, carrying her to her room.
She often left the door slightly open, and it was here too. Giving it a soft push, while stepping into the quiet place. She wondered if it was perhaps time to let go of it. Her eyes looking over the various things she'd kept, for dozens...no, hundreds of years now.
Heading over, she placed Chara into the bed, and quietly tucked her in. She kept the room as close to how it had been as possible. Her eyes glancing over an old bottle or two she'd forgotten to clean up. Recalling the oven was still going to. She'd not have the dream end in flames...so she'd have to deal with that. If it hadn't already come alive, or some other horror.
She decided to think about these things another time, taking a moment to kiss her wards forehead. "Goodnight Chara," Her eyes darkening, as she proceeded from the room. "I...love you."
Her eyes teared up some as she went, picking up the containers as she went. Bottling up a sensation building in the back of her throat, aching in her chest. Heading back down the hall, and into the living room, where the fire had begun to die down. A quick step into the kitchen, to turn off the oven, before heading back to the chair.
Sitting back down, leaning into it heavily, she felt exhausted. This wasn't the first time she'd had a dream like this, though it was perhaps the most vivid in her memory. She let out a little breath, and swallowed hard. Drowning the sensation as much as she could.
After a moment's thought, she took the Underfell book, and placed it on her lap. Folding her hands over it. She hoped that she wouldn't wake up this time. That she wouldn't spend another day in this place, alone.
She thought on the buttercups. The things that started...all of this. Wondering, as she sometimes did, what it felt like to...
Her tears slipped absently, the thought and possibilities roaming about her mind. Chest rising, falling, slower and slower as time ticked. After a time, her mind began to clear. The memories of the past burning away with one final thought. The replaying regrets. She wondered what would have happened...if she had gotten there sooner.
With that, she fell into a deep sleep of her own.
When she did finally awaken, her eyes opening to the familiar points of exhaustion, she did so with a groan. Rubbing the cold from her eyes, noting she'd avoided falling asleep in the robes this time. Not that casual clothes were much of an improvement, but it was something.
She rubbed at her blind eye a bit longer, in her tired state. It sometimes took a moment to recall that it didn't function anymore. Scanning her surrounding she reminded herself where she was, letting out a deep sigh in the process.
"A stunning new development...everyone please remain seated." She said very unenthusiastically to herself, before noticing the book in her lap.
Seeing the tome there wasn't entirely surprising. She often fell asleep reading. What was, though...was the name of the book. Underfell. She'd not read that in, well, it'd been at least 6 years since she last touched it. And yet...there it was...
The 'dream' from before played in her mind, as she woke up faster. "Wait..." She turned to the table, and felt the hope fade. "I...don't know what I was expecting."
The table was absent of the Flower, she had recalled being there. Not that it could have been. She huffed a little. The idea of it all, was so outlandish, fantastical.
Toriel rose from her seat, holding the book in her hands. Staring through it, the memory coiled around present thoughts. She had never gotten to read it to Chara. The thought coming, as she brushed it with her fingers, she reminded herself that it had been a dream, and not an unfamiliar one. No matter how she longed for it, it would never be her reality. The woman hugging the tome, feeling like she was about to breakdown before finally letting go.
A distinct lack of enthusiasm carried her to her next actions. Wandering over to the bookshelf. Placing it back where it belonged. Leaning against it, briefly checking her phone for any new calls. Only having one from an unknown number. But she ignored it.
Her expression was almost blank, her eyes glassy and lost while she continued towards her kitchen. Entering into it, she noticed the pie on the counter. With a few pieces taken out of it. The scent of cinnamon reaching her, as she yawned fiercely. She reached over to grab a knife, and get herself a piece to start the day, only to fumble some with it.
"Ow-damnit." She exclaimed in surprise, managing to cut her finger on the edge.
She examined it, the mana visible, staining her finger some. It was a crimson substance, not entirely unlike a human's blood. Though, it became dust quickly enough, almost immediately if it 'bled' which it was doing.
The blade fell to her counter. "Good going Toriel." She complained, healing her wound before grabbing the knife with increased caution. "Why was it even-" She sighed placing it back where it belonged. "that's what happens when we just leave things around."
She said this to herself, knowing well that drunk her likely wouldn't retain anything she was saying. Properly mended, she cut herself a piece of the pie. She only wondered about its origin briefly. She had made things while sleepwalking before. Though she was impressed that it was somewhat edible this time. She dreaded checking to see how much she wasted in the process.
Placing it on a plate she was certain was mostly clean, she glanced at the dishes in the sink. Tossing the knife in, figuratively, she pulled out a dirty fork. Fire flowing from her hand, consuming it.
With any debris singed off, she just ran water over it briefly, removing the grime. Wondering if she should actually do the dishes today. Sighing, concluding that she'd handle them...eventually.
Before leaving the kitchen, she opened the cupboard. Grabbing a smaller wine glass. There were only a few remaining, which was an unpleasant revelation. Her eyes briefly noting a note that had been placed there.
It read. "What do you call a bear who quits drinking...sobear." She snickered some, and rolled her eyes. "I'll...work on it."
Proceeding from the kitchen, she concluded that she honestly didn't care much anymore. It was evident to her, that she'd exist in the ruins until she either vanished or was killed. Even with her more recent addition of company, it was a fleeting collection of moments against the normal backdrop. And a talk once a week, a visit maybe once a month...only really made it worst.
Sometimes she woke up, imagining there would be something waiting for her. It was a foolish thing, by all accounts. She knew would die alone and forgotten by everyone outside of a being she hardly got to interact with. Even then, she doubted he would care for long. Toriel groaned at herself, angry at her own self-pity, and more depressed because of it.
Setting her slice of pie by the chair, she set the glass alongside it. Noticing that her bottle of wine was no longer beside her chair. Thinking back, she concluded it was likely in her room, and began heading that way.
Passing the staircase, she reached the door to the other room. Pausing in front of it, her body lurched to a halt. Despite her desire to just continue, and not do what she knew she was going to do. Her body ached to proceed, yet her mind wouldn't allow it.
"There's nobody there." She told herself, reaching for the handle. "There's nobody...nobody..." She felt a faint hope, turning the handle to look inside. "There?"
Gazing in, the room was dark and empty. Bearing the familiar scents of old colored pencils and paint. Looking to the bed, she half expected to see one of her children at rest. The room was...as close to the same as she could get it after all. Her hands folded together, the delusional aspect of her mind, that dreaming madness wondering if perhaps they were just hard to see?
Her trembling hand turned on the light. Illuminating her, as to the situation. The nearly made bed, unmistakably empty. A familiar frown breaking across her face. Her attention turning to the painted images across the bedroom wall. The hand outlines, and little drawings left by those who came before.
Sometimes she wondered if they might ever return. If one of them was out there somewhere, considering returning to the Ruins. However, she had to remind herself, they'd probably forgotten about her, and that was assuming they survived...
She shook some. "I'm such a fool." She chuckled, anger boiling in her heart.
Leaving the room with a slam of the door behind her. Proceeding to her own room with quick, unstable movements. Opening the door, and pushing past some of the random debris that littered the floor. Crumpled pieces of paper, random clothing strewn about. It was in a poor state. Her frustration rising, everything feeling all the more overwhelming.
Flame flickered in her palm, light reflecting off a few glass bottles in the room. Her breathing steadying, her eyes noting one bottle laying atop her dresser. Snatching it off, she sighed. The sensation would fade, she just needed to drink until it stopped. It was simple.
Back to the living room, she went. Setting down the bottle with a bit of a thud. Set on the table, next to the other things she'd gathered to start her morning. She shuddered some, twitching absently.
She poured some of the wine into the glass, it was remarkably cheap smelling. Then reaching over to take the piece of pie, on its little plate. Her hand grasping empty air. Blinking, examining the location, revealed the pie slice was now absent its location.
"What?" She asked the air, wondering, had she left it in the kitchen?
Setting the jug down on the table it produced a thumping noise. She shuddered at the sound, twitching absently. The woman poured some of the wine into her glass, the contents were remarkably cheap smelling.
Her thoughts were broken by the sound of speaking. Toriel froze at the sound, recognizing them. Her hand shook some, prompting her to take a very deliberate, drink. Finishing the wine in the glass in an instant.
She was positive she was awake. She'd...cut herself, felt pain. She was awake...she thought? Which meant...she had unwanted guests, nothing more. The assurance guiding her, the woman wandering towards the door of her home. The talking getting louder, clearer, fire flowing into her hands. She noted she was mistaken, imagining, had to be.
"But that's what I'm saying!" A familiar voice said, the woman turning the corner. "I mean, do you even know how to bake?"
"Nope, but that's alright. You've just got to persevere, right, and figure it out." The child said, before noticing her. "Oh, hey mom. You're up."
"Chara?" Toriel half asked, feeling like her senses were screaming. "You're...here."
The girl sitting beside the familiar flower, on the ground in front of her home. A piece of pie on a little plate between them. Her flame flickered away, hands moving behind her back. The woman cautiously digging her finger into her hand, the pain flowing through her as a reminder that she was awake. She...was awake?