I am doing this for you. This is all for you, my child . . ."
"I will give you a quick and painless death . . . !"
Frisk woke up in a start, gasping as the memory in the form of a nightmare came to them in their sleep. They were at their last SAVE point. The small bed in the guest room in Toriel's home.
They clutched where the gaping hole in their chest should have been. Toriel...
She killed them. She killed Frisk.
It was if Toriel's personality escalated in an extreme manner when she fought Frisk. Before the FIGHT, she was not like this. She was "herself." Though, there was some off-putting moments with her that they considered a bit abnormal. But they could not have predicted this.
Frisk didn't know why they felt like this wasn't her. All they knew, truly, was that they fell from Mt. Ebott and met a kind flower, when Toriel—the caretaker of the Ruins—attacked him. And after, she brought Frisk to her home and welcomed them as their "child."
Frisk slowly got out of the soft bed. They couldn't defeat Toriel. But did they want to?
The room was dark. The outlines of a slice of butterscotch-cinnamon pie could be seen, however. It was meticulously placed in the middle of the room, on the floor, like last time. 'I'm not falling for that again,' they thought.
As they peered out the doorway, viewing Toriel reading the same book and sitting on her rocking chair, they saw the name of the text was altered.
"1 Count For Save Points" it read.
"My child, what are you doing?"
Frisk froze. Her voice brought an unwelcome, eerie flashback.
"Nothing, I woke up and wanted to see what you're up to is all," they said casually, maintaining their cool, "whatcha reading?"
They walked over to her. Toriel smiled pleasantly. "It is called '72 Uses For Snails'," she replied. "How about-"
In the midst of her monologue, the flower from before knocked against the window in the kitchen. He mouthed some words which Frisk couldn't hear, though they could see him. "Yeah yeah that's great," said Frisk. "I'm going to play outside." They turned to leave.
Toriel grabbed Frisk's arm.
"You would not leave me, would you, small one?" she asked. Her yellow eyes were bloodshot. The grip around their arm was tightening. Frisk gulped, afraid of what she would do if they were to tell the truth. "I'm gonna say no," they struggled to look away from her. "I'm going to go outside. I won't leave, OK?"
Toriel let go of Frisk's arm and simpered.
"There, there. Do not look so scared. I will allow you to do this of course. I should not have been so harsh. Be good, alright?
Promises are meant to be kept."
Frisk nodded quickly. "Yes," they said, and darted out of Toriel's home.
"Yellow flower?" they called. "Yellow flower with the messed up petals, are you here?"
"H-Howdy! It's me, F-Flowey the flower!" the flower—presumably Flowey—sprouted up from the ground. He was hurt and wore a fearful expression. "Heya," Frisk said, waving. "It's me, Frisk the...Frisky human?" they laughed, but Flowey was still as serious as he could be.
"That thing you did back there with Goat Mom's window. You wanted to get my attention right?" they asked. "Actually, I want you to k-know something." He said. Frisk's attention was captured. They walked up to the flower and inched closer to hear better. Flowey was initially startled, though calmed down after realising they weren't going to FIGHT him like the others. He whispered so Toriel could not hear.
"Toriel will kill you if you don't escape," he told them.
"That's the thing," Frisk said, "she already did."
Flowey nodded sullenly, as if he knew. Then he stepped back. "She'll kill you again. And again." His words seemed too bluntly sincere to be surmise. "S-Say, Frisk, I'm going to help you. Each time you die in this world, your friends increasingly turn into enemies. And when you lose your determination and really die, you'll never see them again."
"But I don't have any friends here," protested Frisk.
"Trust me when I say they WERE your friends."
"We have to work together and prevent this from happening," Flowey proceeded, "I'll give you more and more advice as we go, OK? To start it off, I'll say...you need to befriend these monsters. I can't do it."
"How?" they asked.
"Deep down, you know who these monsters are. And they know you. You care about them and they care about you. You have to r-remember, even if they don't." Frisk thought about the distant gleam in Toriel's eyes when they said they didn't want to fight her. How Toriel was so close to stop FIGHTing. "From here on, you'll meet more and more monsters that will—no matter how much you don't like it—FIGHT and attempt to kill you. But...you have to find it in you to SPARE them, to not fight back. Now for this part, you have to trust your instincts and show how you feel."
"Frisk, t-tell me what you wanted to do in Toriel's fight. What you f-felt was right."
Frisk thought about this. The gleam they saw faded when Frisk tried to push Toriel out of the way, which led to their death. If they hadn't...what would they do and say in response to that gleam?
To Frisk that gleam was Toriel remembering something; she paused and looked at Frisk for a long moment before shaking her head and continuing to FIGHT them. What if Frisk had said something else, to make Toriel remember what she was remembering to the full extent? What if she hadn't refused the memory? What if...
"I wanted to hug her." Frisk said. "I wanted to say no matter what, I wouldn't fight her."
Flowey smiled softly at them. "Right."
"Why don't you go and do that, Frisk?"
"I'll see you soon." In a blink of an eye, Flowey was gone.