Chapter 8

In and out. Light and dark. Conscious and unconscious.

Bits and pieces scattered throughout Frisk's memory, but there were too few to create a comprehensive story. They were dots with too much distance to be connected, the spaces between an empty void.

Someone carried her away from the blood, ashes, and vomit.

She was carried to someplace warm.

Arguing.

". . . any idea what would . . ."

". . . one would know. Trust me."

"Close to death, this one."

Blinding white light.

Liquid forced down her throat.

Excruciating pain in her side.

Frisk never died this way before. She never came back this way, either. It was different. It scared her.

Her body cold.

Head heavy.

Chara's voice saying, "Don't let them take you."

Frisk grasped not for the words, but for the voice. Chara's voice.

Chara.

Chara.

Frisk's eyes flew open.

Chara!

Had it not been for the pain in her side, Frisk would have bolted upright. She laid in a bed in a small room with white walls, landscape paintings decorating said walls, and a bouquet of flowers on the nightstand by the bed. The lights were off. Looking around, the place seemed nothing more than a hospital room minus the monitors.

"Chara?" she called quietly, too afraid to speak above a whisper. It was as she tucked loose hair behind her ear Frisk noticed something else was amiss.

Looking down, Frisk bit back a gasp when she saw that she had been changed into an oversized, lime green T-shirt and mint shorts almost short enough to be classified as underwear. Her brown hair hung freely, in desperate need of a brush, and her feet were bare. Worst of all, the locket was no longer around her neck.

"Chara!" Frisk whispered, panic settling in. Toriel trusted Frisk to take care of Chara, so much so that Toriel didn't feel the need to use her dying breaths to tell Frisk such. Now the locket was gone, and Chara along with it.

"Don't let them take you," she heard Chara say, or maybe she had dreamt it. Either way, he must have known they were being separated. As usual, there was nothing he could do to stop it. If anyone was at fault for their predicament, it was Frisk.

Get up. Find Chara. Get out of here, Frisk told herself as she fought through the pain and rose to her feet. There were two ways to honor Toriel's memory, and Frisk would do them. She would find Chara, and the both of them would get out of there. They would escape not just wherever they were, but the Underground altogether. No other options would be acceptable.

As carefully as humanly possible, Frisk opened the door and peeked through the small crack. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door all the way and stepped out into the hall. She stood still for a moment, squinting until her eyes adjusted to the light, then began walking down the hall. Frisk didn't know where she was going, but anywhere had to be better than staying where she was. The only problem was if she got caught. If that happened, Frisk didn't know what she would do.

"A human?" A voice around the corner snorted. "Does he have any idea what could happen if word gets out there's a human here?"

Frisk should have shied away and went in the other direction. She should have, yet curiosity overcame her. Pushing herself into the wall, Frisk strained to quiet her breathing and hear the conversation.

"He claims we should have nothing to worry about as long as the two of us don't make a production out of this," a second voice said. Both speakers were female. "Yet regardless of whether or not I believe him, I do owe him a favor."

"A favor that might get us all killed? What did he do for you that's worth risking our lives like this?!"

"Regardless of favors, I couldn't let the human-"

"What are you doing?"

Frisk squeaked as she felt an icy breath at the back of her neck. Turning slowly, she saw a polar bear in a sweater standing behind her. She suppressed the urge to scream.

The bear leaned in closer. "You shouldn't be out of bed."

There was no more suppressing urges. Frisk shrieked, lost her balance, and fell on her behind. In a pathetic attempt to get away, she crab-walked as fast and as far away from the bear as possible. Only she forgot about the corner.

When she rounded, she didn't just expose herself to the other monsters, but she fell down a set of steps, only a few high. Pain stabbed her throbbing side, but she ignored it.

"Get away from me!" she shouted at the bear. "Don't touch me!"

"Sweetie, calm down," came a voice from behind. It belonged to the second speaker.

Flinching away from the touch above her elbow, Frisk snapped her head around to see a giant pink rabbit standing over her, arm outstretched. A pale white dog was beside the rabbit. The air rushed out of Frisk's lungs at the sight of another dog.

The rabbit must have seen something in Frisk's eyes because she put up both of her hand-like paws, palms facing outwards, and said slowly, "We're not going to hurt you. See? We're on your side. All we want to do is help."

As none of the monsters made move to attack, Frisk took a few deep, long breaths to calm her raging nerves. She looked at the monsters, just as the rabbit insisted. The rabbit, the dog, and the polar bear were all wearing blue.

Blue.

"You're Blues?" Frisk asked, disbelief coloring her words. She had almost forgotten all about them, but now Madjick's words came back. "Monsters in blue are good for you."

"You bet we are," the rabbit said, smiling now. "If we wanted you dead so we could take your soul, do you really think I would have treated your wound and let you sleep peacefully in one of my rooms?"

Now that the words were spoken aloud, Frisk blushed at the realization at how silly she was being. The rabbit was right. If anyone wanted harm to come to Frisk, it would have come while she was unconscious. She didn't imagine anyone who wanted her soul would care whether or not she was aware while they took it.

"Th-thank you," she said, not sure what else to say.

The rabbit froze for a second before she waved a paw in the air. "Don't worry about it, sweetie. That's what good folk do; we look out for each other."

"You really should get back to bed," the polar bear said, his voice deep and slow. "You're not properly rested."

"Give her a chance to wrap her head around all of this, Peter," the rabbit scolded the bear. "Poor thing was almost dead when he brought her in."

Suddenly it all came back to Frisk. The face she barely recognized. The voice she knew but could not place as it told her, "Everything is going to be okay, kid."

"Sans brought me here?" Frisk asked before she realized her mouth was open.

"Do not say that name," the dog, who had remained silent until now, answered sharply. "We do not speak of that name in these parts."

"I'm sorry," Frisk said. She looked down and chewed on her lower lip. The pieces were starting to come together, but her body hurt too much for her to think straight. Yet there was one thing she did not forget about in all the confusion. "Where's my locket? And my clothes and boots? Where are my things?"

"They're in another room, but we'll bring them to you if you like," the rabbit said. "For now, I think you should eat something. You have been unconscious for a day-and-a-half. Let me take you back to bed and fetch you some soup, and I'll return your belongings while you eat. How's that sound?"

A small smile appeared on Frisk's face. "Soup sounds nice."

This made the rabbit return the smile. "I'm Beatrix, by the way." She indicated the dog. "That's Doge," she pointed to the bear, "and you already met Peter. And you are?"

"I'm Frisk." She took the paw offered her and let Beatrix help her up. "Where's Sa- Uh, I mean, where's the one who brought me here?"

Beatrix shook her head as she led Frisk back to the room. "No idea, sweetie. Dropped you here, made me pay the favor I owed him, and stayed until he knew you were going to live. After you were stable, he said he had business to take care off. Said it would take him three days and he should be back by then, but we can't be too sure with him. He comes and goes as he pleases, but we're used to it."

The words made Frisk frown in disappointment. Until the locket was around her neck again, she would have gladly seen any familiar, friendly face. Now knowing that it was Sans who helped her, she wanted to see him even more. She wanted to thank him, but she didn't know how. When one saves another's life, certainly words alone aren't enough to express gratitude.

Seeing Frisk's uneasy expression, Beatrix patted Frisk on the shoulder and said, "Don't worry, Frisk. We'll take care of you until he gets back."

The warmth and friendliness made Frisk feel safer than she had since Toriel died. When she smiled, the comfort and happiness she showed was genuine. "Thank you."


"Sans!"

Said skeleton internally groaned as he replied, "Yes, Papyrus?"

"Have you seen my sunglasses?"

Frowning, Sans turned to look at Papyrus. He had thought his twin was about to criticize the way Sans was making up the couch for Undyne – he turned it into a bed simply by throwing a dirty pillow and blanket with holes in the material on top of it. Hey, he was going to argue, anywhere one sleeps is a bed.

Relieved at the actual request, Sans told Papyrus, "I don't know. Try checking the mirror."

"Excellent idea, Sans!" Papyrus exclaimed – he exclaimed almost everything he said – and ran off to the bathroom. Twelve seconds later: "I have found them! They were on my head this whole time. Ah, the cleverness of the Great Papyrus!"

Chuckling, Sans found it in himself to at least straightening the blanket before calling it a job well done and walking away.

"Why, again, is Undyne coming to stay?" he asked, already knowing the answer but wanting to be aware of how much Papyrus already knew.

"She has a super top-secret mission, duh," Papyrus answered, grinning as he shifted his attention to dusting off the knickknacks, which happened to be toys and action figures he found at the dump some years ago. "She is the Captain of the Royal Guard, after all. Naturally she's going to get all the good missions."

"Yeah, but do you know what exactly her mission might be?"

"Not really."

Sans frowned. "Haven't you heard the rumors?"

Gasping, Papyrus held the duster as he cupped his face. "Are they about me?"

"Uh, yes. Yes, they are." Watching as his brother danced with joy, it was hard for Sans to feel bad for lying to Papyrus. If Papyrus even heard a whisper that there was an actual human in the Underground, he would go through great measures, and maybe get himself killed in the process, to try to capture it.

So maybe not every monster in the Underground has heard the rumors.

The thought led Sans to cancel out everything around him as he plotted his next course of action. He told Beatrix that he would be back in three days, and already half that time was spent. He didn't know what he was thinking by taking the bleeding Frisk to her in the first place. The human was surrounded by the ashes of dead monsters, and Sans could not ignore such. Had he not checked her EXP and concluded Frisk was not in the habit of staining her hands with dust – her low EXP count told him that was her first time killing, and her terrible wound was proof enough she attacked in self-defense – he would have left her to die in the snow, promise or no.

Now he had to find some way to take care of this human, practically a child, while not revealing to anyone what he was doing. If anyone knew he was helping a human when her soul was the last they needed so that they may escape from under the mountain, he would immediately be labeled a traitor to the crown. Worse, if Undyne found out, she probably would give him a quick trial where she would be lawyer, judge, and jury. He shivered at the thought of the sentence she would have in mind for him.

"How long is this super top secret of Undyne's supposed to last, anyway?" Sans asked, pretending to reorganize the books on the coffee table.

"Who knows," Papyrus answered, "but I'm sure it will be long enough for me to convince Undyne to plead on my behalf to have King Asgore put me back on the Royal Guard! Nyehehe!"

"I see. And when is Undyne going to get here?"

Papyrus looked at the clock. "Oh, about now."

Immediately after Papyrus spoke, a loud knock came from the door followed by a voice shouting, "Please let me in! It's freezing out here!"

"Wow," Sans said as Papyrus jogged to the door, "she must be really chilled to the bone."

Groaning, Papyrus turned to Sans and began, "If you make any bad puns like that while Undyne is here-"

"Open the door already!"

"More on that later." Papyrus opened the door and said, "Welcome, Undyne!"

"Yeah, yeah, good to see you too. Took you long enough. What were you doing, trying to turn me into frozen fish sticks?" The blue-skinned monster rushed inside, slammed the door behind her, set down her suitcase, and pulled her jacket closer over her body. Shivering, she asked, "Now that I'm here, I almost wished I wasn't assigned to Ice Capital. How can you guys live in all this snow?"

"Easy," Sans shrugged, "we don't have skin."

"So, uh, Undyne," Papyrus said as he wrung his fingers, "is there any way I can-"

"No." There was finality in Undyne's answer.

"But you don't know what I was going to ask!"

Undyne sighed. "You were going to ask if there was any way you can help me with my mission, weren't you, Papyrus?"

"Well, I, um, no! No, I wasn't going to ask that at all! I was going to ask is there, er, any way I can persuade you to try my new meatball recipe for spaghetti and meatballs for dinner tonight?" Papyrus smiled, his grin obviously forced.

Shaking her head, Undyne replied, "Get started on dinner, and I'll be in the kitchen to help you after I warm up. Sound good?"

After Papyrus agreed and ran to the kitchen to get started, Undyne turned to Sans and whispered, "Hasn't he heard the rumors at all?"

"Apparently he's the only monster in the Underground that hasn't," Sans whispered back.

"Well, I'm going to need you to keep an eye on him while I'm here," Undyne said. "We don't know how dangerous a human is, and the last thing either of us wants is Papyrus getting hurt. The less he knows, the better off he'll be."

"And where, exactly, do you plan on looking for this human?" Sans asked.

A wicked grin spread across Undyne's face. "I might not know where to start," she answered, "but I'll tear apart the whole forest until I find that miserable human."


After eating two bowls of soup and getting a full night of deep sleep, Frisk found a restlessness growing inside her. She knew she needed to wait for Sans, but she didn't see a point in lying in bed the whole time. Rising from and making the bed, Frisk grabbed her clothes, which Beatrix left on a chair in the corner of the room, walked to the washroom, and bathed in the tin tub.

Towel wrapped around her, Frisk observed herself in the mirror. This wasn't right. So much had changed in the past few days. She should have changed with everything else. Although her skin was paler from the loss of blood and her cheeks thinner from lack of proper nutrition since leaving the Ruins, she had to look really hard to see those differences. Based on a first glance alone, nothing about her appearance had changed at all. Except one thing.

Steeling herself, Frisk made sure the door was locked before she dropped the towel. The twisted wound on her side was held together by thick, black stitches. Frisk threw up in her mouth at the sight of them. It still hurt, but as long as she was careful, the wound would have no problem healing. There would be a scar, Beatrix said, but that would be the worst of it.

As she dressed, Frisk's mind would not stop coming back to the dogs she killed. Again and again the scene played inside her head, each recent edition more gruesome than the last. She had killed someone. Frisk had killed someone, and another was filled with so much grief that he killed himself immediately after. Frisk swallowed the lump in her throat. She didn't lift the blade, but she was still responsible for his death. Frisk killed both of them.

Unable to contain herself, Frisk vomited up the breakfast Beatrix had brought to her earlier. She retched until there was nothing left, until her stomach was tied into a knot. Everything hurt, but time was too short to live in the past.

Clothed and back in her room, Frisk took a deep breath and put on the locket. When Chara appeared, he stood frozen. He looked around the room and at Frisk, his brows pinched together. He truly had no idea what had happened between the locket being removed from Frisk to now.

"Sans brought me here, didn't he?" Frisk asked even though she already knew the answer.

Chara answered by saying, "Just because he did this for you doesn't mean I trust him now."

When Frisk didn't respond, instead focusing her attention on using her fingers to brush out her hair, Chara asked, "How much time has passed?"

"Two days, or so I've been told," Frisk answered as she tied her hair back with her ribbon. It was good to have her hair out of her face again. "I spent all of the first day and most of yesterday unconscious, but today I feel more like myself."

Studying her, Chara walked around the room and took in some of the smaller details. "So, what are the big plans for today?"

"I want to see the town," Frisk answered. She didn't look at Chara; she kept her gaze focused on her boots as she slid them on. "I want to be around others."

"What, my company isn't enough?"

I almost dreaded putting the locket back on because I was afraid to see you. Frisk forced a smile on her face. "I thought you just might want to see the town, too." Chara snorted. Yet I can't do any of this without you.

When Frisk walked down the stairs, Beatrix, who was washing the dishes, smiled and asked how Frisk was feeling now that she was up and about. "I'm feeling great, thank you," Frisk said. She pressed her lips together before she asked, "I was wondering if it would be okay if I could go around and see the town."

Beatrix laughed. "No need to ask, Frisk. You're not a prisoner here, but if you want company, I can see if my daughter can show you around."

"That would be great," Frisk said although she didn't know Beatrix had a daughter, but the information had no reason to come up until now. "Is she here?"

"No, but she should be back in fifteen or twenty minutes." Beatrix began to dry the pots, pans, and plates. She smiled at Frisk when the human picked up another towel and started to help. "Alice went out to deliver baked goods to our friends. She loves all things baking and chocolate. When she was little, she dreamed of moving to the Capital and opening the biggest and best bakery in the whole Underground, but now she's happy to just spend her mornings baking and giving away her delicious pastries. Some of the other townspeople give her generous tips, so I can't say her hobby leaves us wanting."

It was a smile Frisk used to fight back the rising tears. The talk of baking reminded her of all the times she and Toriel baked. It was their favorite mother-daughter bonding activity, and never again would they get to make pies with each other. "Alice sounds nice," Frisk said to get her mind off Toriel.

"She is." Beatrix nodded. "You two should become fast friends."

"I hope so," Frisk muttered. With everything going on, she really needed a friend.

"You discuss such boring topics," Chara said as he continued to survey the kitchen and lobby. His eyes stopped on a painting, but Frisk wasn't in good position to properly see what the painting was. "If I were you, I'd ask where you are and what happened to Snowdin. You know, that town burnt to ash?"

Chara was right. Frisk frowned. She hated it when Chara was right.

"I have something to ask, if you're up for it," she said slowly, using her tone to convey to Beatrix that it was not going to be an easy question.

The monster looked at Frisk, concern etched into her eyes. "What is it, sweetie?"

Seeing no point in beating around the bush, Frisk bluntly asked, "What happened to Snowdin? Before I was . . . injured, I found the town, but it was nothing but remains. It looks like there was a fire, but I'm not really sure how it happened or how long ago."

Looking into an unseen distance, Beatrix took a deep breath and briefly explained, "Yes, there was a fire, about three years ago. The Reds . . . ignited it. When I look back, we should have seen it coming. The Reds, our local ones, began leaving one by one. Some moved away, and others claimed to be visiting relatives, and others still said they were merely traveling. We were warned, fortunately, but it was at the last possible minute. We packed what we could on such short notice and ran far away. We thought, I don't know, that if the Reds saw that we were gone, they wouldn't destroy our homes, but they did anyway. Now . . . we live here. It's not the same, but we've adjusted."

Nodding, Frisk knew Beatrix's explanation left no room for more questions on the topic. She knew enough, and what really mattered was there were no casualties. With nothing to say, Frisk continued to help dry dishes in silence. Beatrix, in return, said nothing else.

"I'm back!" came a cheerful voice from the front door minutes later.

Beatrix's ears perked up. "Alice, I'm in here!"

A white rabbit about Frisk's height walked into the kitchen. The monster wore a pink sweater and a coffee-colored skirt, and a cream scarf was wrapped around her neck.

"Oh," she said when she laid eyes on Frisk, "that must be your patient." To Frisk, "I'm so glad you're feeling better. When you-know-who brought you in, you were so white I was afraid you would break into ashes at any second."

"Alice!" Beatrix scolded, but her daughter went on as if nothing was said.

"You look much better now that you're brown," Alice continued. "Most monsters here have white fur. Probably from years of our ancestors living here, I suppose, that we adapted to have white fur to blend into the snow, but your brown skin is so pretty."

"Uh, thanks," Frisk said, blushing.

Alice laughed. "Don't hear that every day."

Frisk furrowed her brows. "Huh?"

"She means the expression of gratitude, Frisk," Beatrix supplied as she put away the last of the dishes. "It's not that monsters down her are rude, per se, but nobody really says 'thank you' or 'I appreciate it.' Gratitude is typically implied, not expressed. Not that it isn't nice to hear."

"It's not normal to say 'thank you'?" Frisk questioned.

"She just said that. Weren't you listening?" Chara rolled his eyes.

"We had a dark point in our history," Beatrix explained. "It was a take what you can and give nothing world. After the death of our princes and the exile of our queen, the Underground fell into chaos. It was a miracle we didn't descend into extinction, let alone how some of us still managed to find the good in ourselves and others." Beatrix giggled. "Not that I was there, but my grandparents talked about it so vividly it's almost as if I was the way I can recall their stories so well."

"I'm taking you didn't know that," Alice pointed out, though she didn't look at Frisk with distrust. "Where are you from?"

Frisk saw no harm in telling the truth, and Chara wasn't giving her any signs to keep her mouth shut. She replied, "The Ruins."

Beatrix and Alice looked wide-eyed at Frisk.

"We didn't know if anyone still lived in what remains of Home," Beatrix said. "You grew up there?" Frisk nodded. "Are there others?"

"The Ruins are small," Frisk replied, "but it's well populated. The kind of size where you've met everyone living there but you still don't know everyone well enough to name them all on the top of your head."

"Hmm." Alice nodded. "Sounds bigger than our little made up town here. I'm practically friends with everyone."

"That reminds me," Beatrix said, "Alice, would you please show Frisk around? Poor thing has been stuck indoors since she arrived. Fresh air would do her good."

"Sure thing, mother dearest." Alice giggled. Looking at Frisk, Alice said, "But be warned, you're going to get some weird looks. I don't think anyone here has ever seen a monster like you before."