"What...what happened? Where am I?"

"oh, you're awake. how was your trip down memory lane, aof? you managed to bring any postcards back? maybe some about the dreemurrs and that you've now slept away all the drama between you and them? tell me about your travels, aof, i'm all ears. we got time, don't worry."

"Who's there? Why are..."

"you look absolutely horrible, aof. i'm not even exaggerating, if anything i'm understating. nothing a good shower won't fix though. maybe some tea and a slice of snail pie afterwards. yes, that is indeed an excellent idea, aof. i'll fetch a slice for myself."

A gentle breeze brushes against Aofil's face.

Who's voice was that? Aofil feels that they should know who it is. Yet, they can't put their finger on it. They can barely open their eyes. Everything feels so heavy. That gentle breeze almost knocked them out. Aofil's head is spinning. Thoughts are crashing into each others in their head. Memories, about the same time, but about different things. Laughs, screams, cries, both of pain, and mourning, they all blend together like a horrible symphony straight from hell. What does it all mean? What's real? What isn't?

It's all so confusing, it's all so strange, yet familiar, yet so far away. Close enough for Aofil to cower from the impending tide of cognitive mishmash. It's at the same time too long gone that Aofil's feels vertigo even considering reaching out to it. They feel...they feel…

Another gust of wind appears.

"bucket, right next to you."

Aofil bumps the metal container with their elbow as they flail their arms to their sides, and then shove it under their head. Their stomach and throat surges violently from all the ruckus in their mind, and they heave until they feel drained of the smallest drop of liquid.

"well now you've gone and ruined my appetite here, aof. probably for the better though, don't want to ruin this perfect beach body i've worked on all year. gotten a lot of practice snoozing while papyrus cooks, so i'll have no problem sleeping with the salty wind in my face. not that big of a difference, actually."

Aofil collapses back down on their back. A third wind appears. Where are they? A fourth wind returns shortly after.

"convulse violently if you want another bucket underneath your head."

Just a moment ago they were about to strike at…No, it wasn't them that wanted to strike? Aofil's a human, so why did they see a monster in the reflection from Asgore's plate armor? It looked...it looked like when Aofil fused with Asriel all those years ago. Yet, Aofil felt in control, they felt like every action was their own. Why did they want to strike at Asgore though?

He's a monster.

Yes, but…

A monster!

Aofil's been around monsters plenty, so why? There's something nipping at the back of their mind though. They're...angry at them. Angry at the monsters, because of reasons. What kind of reasons, Aofil can't pinpoint. What kind of anger is it too? Is it hate, or is it...hate?

Aargh! It's not the same! Aofil's, somewhat, sure about that! They're angry, they're livid, but it's not because of the same reason. They want to…they want to? What do they want?

"this snail pie is really good, by the way. toriel's outdone herself, again."

There's loud chewing.

"found my appetite! it rolled under the bucket full of your puke. it is however rolling away yet again now that i said 'puke', but i'm gonna say 'freshly picked snails and delicious crust' and have it roll right back."

More loud chewing.

"ah yes, there it is."

That insane grin, exposing glistening white teeth underneath equally glistening white fur, and gritted in a determined smile. Aofil remembers feeling it on their lips, but it wasn't their lips? It was a muzzle grinning like a demon possessed them, but it wasn't them!

Slurps of liquid followed by a quenched exhale interrupts Aofil in their thoughts.

"no tea, i'm afraid. water's nice though. you thirsty?"

"Yeah."

Aofil's voice is like gravel poured onto a desert.

Wait! Why did Aofil answer?! The voice is a monster! He…he is a monster. Aofil's angry at the monsters! Yet, they answered. Without hesitation. Without even thinking. This monster, is a monster.

Yes, but he's a monster though.

Aofil feels their forehead wrinkle. What?

And who is it?

"just hold your hand out, aof. don't mumble into the water."

Aofil stretches their hand out, and a glass is nestled between their fingers. They caress it, and it suddenly gains weight.

"please forgive my usage of magic. i'm not gonna be in arm's reach of you right now. not because you look horrible, and smell just as you look. well, a bit because of that, not gonna lie. not again, that is. it's not the main reason though."

Aofil can't help but feel betrayed by themselves. The reason why they can't figure out. It's all starting to become hazy. The reasons why their anger just were, and why it's fading away.

"drink, aof. you have to be parched. first you were porched, what with falling asleep in the sun chair, and now you're parched. you think if you slept some more that you'd loop back to the end of the alphabet and become pyrched?"

Oh yeah! That's Sans.

Aofil feels their sudden smile fall into a tired frown.

Oh no! It's Sans.

"ah, so you do remember me, aof! i'd recognize that tired sigh and or grunt anywhere. still not gonna come closer. you still look like you wanna take a swing at me, again. so i'm not gonna come up and hug you just yet unless i'm sure you've cooled down. you still smell like you took a long vacation in the Garbage Dump. just so that you're perfectly aware of that, because i certainly am."

Aofil moves the glass up to their mouth. They feel this headache grow all of a sudden. They slowly raise the glass up to their lips. Their lips seem to be a bit stuck together though, and Aofil opens their mouth wider.

Like splitting a drawn line by ripping the paper apart, Aofil's lips open up like an old and rusty zipper. Fused skin pops off their lower lips, and follows the upper lip.

The glass falls out of Aofil's hand.

"when i said cooled down, aof, i didn't mean literally. also-"

The loud coughs and pained inhales interrupts Sans mid sentence. Aofil flies upright, rubbing their lips, and flinching as they scrape their now exposed flesh. Their teeth instinctively move down to their lower lip to cope with the pain, but it only results in more burning agony. They can taste blood.

And still they can't open their damn eyes! There's so much gunk, it's like glue. To top it all off, their entire chest is doused in ice cold water. Everything they tried to make sense of is no longer important! Their mind is backseated for now! Their body takes screaming priority!

"What the fuck is happening!"

Aofil violently rubs their eyes, but each rub is like dragging their knuckle through gravel. They're trying to excavate their eyes using nothing but their bare hands, when what they feel like they need is heavy machinery!

"you want a refill to wash them off?"

Aofil shoots their arm out towards the voice. "Yes!"

"did you just take a swing at me?"

Not now!

"Sans. I can't fucking see!"

"and you want me to enable you to see? so that you can hit me more easily?"

God fucking dammit!

"Sans! I swear!"

"not really improving my suspicions with that, aof!"

Oh for-

Aofil presses their fingers against the eyelids, and with some careful, and extremely uncomfortable, pulling, their eyes snap open. The world is a messy blur for a good while before Aofil finally manages to see properly.

"quite the eye opening experience."

Carefully, very, very, carefully, Aofil plucks what gunk they can from their eyelashes. It's rock solid.

"a proper shower might be better for you."

With one hand busy with its respective eye, Aofil swirls around to the skeleton leaned back, out of reach, in a chair. A plate filled with crumbs sits on his lap, and a fork's handle is hanging out of the permanent smile. "just an idea, that's all," the skeleton says with a slight shrug. "i don't think the royals will mind. in fact," Sans moves the fork to the other side of his mouth, indicating towards a chair on the far side of the room. "there are some clothes there for you to wear afterwards."

Aofil follows where the fork is pointing with their one open eye. On the chair is indeed a pile of clothes. Purple in color. Royal purple. Aofil can also see the outlines of a white symbol in the folds.

"this is me betting that you're back to normal here, aof. if you'd be so kind and not make me regret that, i'd be very grateful."

"Is this the Dreemurrs house?" Aofil asks as they peel the sheets off their clingy clothes. Sweaty, stinky, stuck, super in need of a wash and a shower.

"ay!" Sans exclaims. The fork in his mouth falls out, but he catches it with his hand. "you can say their name. fantastic, that's step one done! might be the easiest step though, considering what you're about to do."

Oh yeah?

"And what would that be?" Aofil shoots with a sarcastic undertone louder than their inquisitive tone.

"talk with them about everything so that you can move back. i've already bought a balloon for the housewarming party. well, to be fair, i found it," the skeleton admits with a spinning motion of his wrist. "nevertheless, i'm saving it for the party."

Aofil's knees feel like two bags of coarse sand, but they're holding them upright. Barely. It feels a bit better once their blood starts circulating through them though.

"Don't inflate it just yet," Aofil advises the skeleton as they carefully walk over to the chair with the clothes. A stumble has them almost falling over, but they catch themselves on the chair's back. With one arm, Aofil scoops up the clothes, and heads towards the door. "Where's the shower?" they ask Sans.

"just like that? not even gonna tell me about what you've experienced?"

"I feel horrible, I look horrible, I smell horrible. My head's a fucking mess. I need a shower first and foremost. Like, right now, or else I'm gonna climb up the walls and scream until I pass out," Aofil makes very clear with a face that's too tired to show any emotion whatsoever.

"fair enough," Sans shrugs. "you want me to show where's the shower?" he then says with a proud smile.

Aofil sighs. "Yes."

"down the hall, to your left."

"Anyone else home?" Aofil asks before opening the door.

"don't know. i've been busy watching over you."

"For how long?" Aofil says, despite not really wanting to know the answer.

"a while."

Aofil finds that hard to believe. The way Sans said it, there's a lot behind that. "So you've been with me all the time?" Aofil guesses.

"oh no." Sans waves his hand in disbelief. "don't be silly. we've rotated guard duty."

"Right. Who's we?"

"we," Sans repeats. He stretches his arms out while tilting his head, "you remember who 'we' are, right?"

"The gang?"

Sans' brow sinks a bit as he runs the word through his head. "the gang? i guess you could call it that." Judging by the tone of his voice, he's not really convinced.

"And what would you call 'we' then?" Aofil wonders with a tilt of their own head.

"friends."

There's a silence between the two, causing Sans to withdraw his arms, and his brow to sink further. "alright then," he whispers, leaning back in his chair with a disappointed look on his face.

"Sans-"

"no, you don't have to say anything, aof. your mind is a jumble, i get that. however," Sans punctuates with a harshness Aofil's never heard from him before, "here's the thing. your memories came back to haunt you because they became relevant somehow. from what frisk's have said, during the first reset you were...like your twin. riddle me this then, aof, why was that relevant to you? the memories. why did you have to use the memory box?"

Aofil's grip hardens on the door handle. How dare this monster question them!? How dare-

No!

Aofil pushes a hand up to their forehead, pressing against it with the palm of their hand. It's like lightning, just bursting through their mind. It's so painful.

"so that's how it is then?" Sans lets out a weary sigh. "can't really say that i'm jumping with joy over the fact that you wanted to do harm to us, but i guess living it out inside your head is better than living it out outside your head. as long as you just don't also live it out outside, it's all fine by me. we'll chalk it up to your twin still having some grip over you, just like frisk, and we'll put this all behind us. we'll look forward to tomorrow, where we all sit on your patio and watch the lightning together, as you promised."

Aofil just wants to use the shower. "Sans, I don't really want to talk about this right now. I'm exhausted, my head is a damn mess."

"the memories will fade, should fade, in a bit," Sans interjects.

"Can I just use the shower now? Try and wash everything away?"

"just don't kill anyone, ok?"

Aofil doesn't answer, they just shut the door behind them.

"otherwise i don't think toriel will let you have any pie, that is," Sans adds after opening the door again just slightly. "just looking out for you, pal." He closes it again gently.

What a damn mess.

"oh, and i told the others that i had the radio on," Sans remembers as he opens the door ajar again. "so they don't know that you're awake yet. they're probably ninety percent sure, but they wouldn't risk the remaining ten. i can also tell them that it's me showering, if you want."

"How many of them are here?"

"all of them."

Great.

"Yeah, sure."

The door is closed for a third time, and Aofil is left standing in the hallway. From downstairs they can hear Sans quickly saying that he feels for a shower.

"YOU'VE ALREADY SHOWERED YOUR ONCE THIS WEEK THOUGH, SANS! HOW COME?"

Papyrus is really loud, as if that comes to a surprise to Aofil. They feel like it shouldn't, yet they still flinch backwards at the volume.

They damn well need that shower.

So they head back towards the end of the hallway. The commotion from downstairs becomes quieter with each step Aofil takes. So tired, so weak, so confused. Too much, it's all too much.

Their head is swimming with so many contradicting thoughts that they barely can focus enough to even walk. Every step feels like an exam they've not prepared for. Why couldn't the bathroom be closer? Why couldn't the monsters just have gone back to the Underground? Why didn't Aofil just leave before they had to use a damn memory box?

Aofil fumbles with the handle to the bathroom, and with some effort, they push it down, and swing the door open.

The sound of a plucked guitar string has Aofil lifting their heavy head up.

"Um..."

That is…someone. A monster. Looks familiar.

"Uh..."

The young boss monster's hands are frozen on his guitar. "You're awake?" he asks with a very perplexed look after a long and awkward silence.

Aofil blinks hard, as the embarrassment washes over them. "Yeah," they stumble out after an equally long pause. They're still not a hundred percent sure who that monster is. He looks similar to the one from the reflection in Asgore's plate. "I was looking for the shower."

Asriel shakes his head as he can't really understand what he's hearing, or what is happening. "It's just across."

Oh yeah, Asriel is his name.

With a very strange smile Aofil throws a thumb over their shoulder. "Guess I took the wrong door."

Asriel nods, slowly. "Yeah...guess you did. Also, aren't those clothes yours?"

"No, I just-" Aofil looks up again, as their head immediately started slumping down. They see Asriel looking across the room, towards the person sitting on the other side with the same wide eyed stare as Asriel had just a moment ago.

"Oh, Frisk," Aofil mumbles to themselves.

Frisk just stares.

"Anyway," falls out of Aofil's mouth without them even thinking about speaking. "I'm gonna use the shower now."

They close the door, turn around clumsily, and open the one on the opposite side of the hallway. Rapid footsteps trample a second or so after Aofil enters the bathroom. They double check to make sure that they didn't forget to lock the door.

They did forget.

So they lock it.

Their used clothes almost bounce on the tile floor as Aofil struggles to get them off. Not to mention the almost peeling sensation Aofil feel when removing them from their body. They halfheartedly push the solid pile of dried clothes to the side with their foot, and step into the shower, ignoring the strands of white hair dotting around the drain.

Finally!

Instinctively they flick the right side of the gauge to summon the water.

But nothing comes.

They see that it was the temperature gauge they flicked. No biggie, just have to flick the other and-

"Fucking hell!"

A torrent of ice cold water crashes against their head. The tiredness they felt absorbing their mind and body is crushed underneath the surge of adrenaline shooting out throughout their entire being. Aofil shuts the water off as quickly as they can.

They step out of the shower while rubbing their face. The gunk that clotted their eyelashes falls off, and circles with the water down into the drain. A fair share of the white hairs follow too.

Alright! Now they're awake!

A few soft knocks tap the door. "Aofil?" Toriel asks from the other side.

"Yeah!" Aofil yells back, still with their heart in their throat from the cold shock they just experienced.

There's a pause. Aofil's deep breathing is echoing inside the bathroom. They almost have it under control, as Toriel begins speaking again.

"Do you want some tea when you're done? A slice of pie? Butterscotch? Cinnamon? Perhaps both?"

"Sounds good!"

Aofil exhales deeply.

"Sounds good," they repeat with a more steadfast voice.

"We'll wait for you. Take your time."

"Yeah, thanks."

Aofil returns into the shower making a top priority to readjust the temperature gauge to a more comfortable temperature. As the water pours again, Aofil holds only their hand out in the falling water's grace to feel when it's safe to step in.

Another knock has them turning the water off again. With a shiver they turn their head towards the door. "Yes?"

"Did you find the clothes, Aofil? I put some out for you."

"Yes," Aofil answers while motioning to the pile next to their filthy one. The fact that Toriel can't see that they're pointing isn't dawning on them. "I found them."

"Are there towels there for you?"

"I'm naked, Toriel," Aofil informs in a desperate attempt to get her to walk away. "Can I please shower in peace?"

"Y-yes!" she shouts through the door, flustered to the point that Aofil can hear it clearly in her voice. "Of c-course!"

That rock must've hit her harder than Aofil expected.

Dammit!

Aofil throws their fist against the wall behind the shower. These thoughts! Again! The memory box wasn't real! It was just…

Their memory.

Aofil heaves a sigh, both weary, and aggravated over their hand. They shake it loose to relieve some of the pain. They didn't punch a hole in the tiles, but it sure felt like it. For a third time Aofil engages the shower. They don't care if it's unbearably cold now, they just want it to wash away everything.

Luckily, the small window of time they had while feeling with their hand warmed the water enough for it not to collapse their heart into shock. Aofil looks up, the drops smashing against their face. They drag their hands through their hair, splitting the stuck parts into less than wrist thick clumps.

They stop their hands by their neck, and clasp them together behind it. Their elbows counter balance Aofil leaning their head back again into the connected palms of their hands.

The drops once again drum on their face.

"FUCK!" they yell. With all their strength. With everything that remains of their vigor. It's loud, it hurts their already rasped throat. They cough immediately after, and again they taste blood. Their own voice rings in their own ears.

But they had to do it. They had to let it out. Now they let the water wash away what's left. Wash away their thoughts, their confusion, their everything. Just...silence now.

"Aofil! What happened?" comes a scared and anxious voice through the door yet again.

No answer. Aofil keeps their head upwards towards the water. It's pouring like the Waterfall.

"Aofil! Are you-"

"I'm fine!" Aofil answers without moving their head. "Leave me be! I'll be down when I'm done."

"I heard you scream." Toriel is almost apologetic. Her concern is soft. It's nostalgic, it reminds Aofil. They don't want to be reminded though, not now.

Their head needs to be clear, or, as clear as possible. They need to be alone now. Just them, and themselves, to try and figure things out.

"I'll come down when I'm done," Aofil repeats.

There's a brief pause before the response comes. "I understand."

She doesn't. None of them can. Not in this reset, or the one before, or the one before that.

The water keeps on pouring, and pouring, and pouring. Slowly, Aofil feels their head becoming lighter in their hands. The thoughts of the events that never happened yet did at the same time time as well as never meld together, and split apart. Come together, and repulse each other.

The being that was Aofil, the being that attacked Asgore, that aspired with Flowey, that felt such hate against the monsters. Its actions doesn't feel like it came from Aofil. It doesn't feel like Aofil was the one to control them. It was a monster, it was someone else.

Their motivation, their reason behind, their enjoyment.

That Aofil feels. That they can think back on now. They can reason for it, they can understand why, how, and because, that being did it.

Would they have done it again?

Maybe.

They didn't though. This time around they didn't.

The motivations feel out of place when Aofil thinks back on what they themselves feel happened. The snail ordeal, training with Undyne, playing with MK and Frisk when they were so small. Hell, even Muffet.

Those happening, those events, those Aofil feels that they did. Each movement was their own, each thought, but not the same ones that wanted the monsters dead and gone.

Although…

All the other things, traveling the Underground, almost dying. Bringing back Asriel, meeting Chara, their curse. For those, Aofil feels the same as when they think back on the being holding the broken glass just above Asgore's head.

It's clear though, and that's all that matters now. What's next to do, is to set things straight with the monsters.

Aofil's skin has gone wrinkly from all the water. The sun seems to be setting as well through the bathroom window.

How long were they showering?

No matter, they had to do it.

Aofil fetches a towel from the rack. After drying themselves they seize up the clothes Toriel laid out for them. The material is the same as Toriel's robe. It's somewhat their size. Although, the fit is not gonna be perfect, even without the size difference. They're clearly Frisk's clothes.

It's not like they're gonna prance around in them though, and the clothes seem comfy enough. Eh, whatever. Aofil have bigger problems than looking like a-

"You done?"

Is that…

Aofil hastily ties a knot with the belt around their waist. They don't even bother making sure that there is properly dried before unlocking and opening the door.

"I..." Frisk's voice wavers as they process seeing Aofil in their clothes. "You...you're going down to talk with mom and dad, right?"

"...I am."

Frisk nods to themselves. "Sorry, about Chara, and everything else. I tried to get you to stay, and I thought that maybe if you heard Chara explain it all, I thought-"

Frisk trails off. Their hand balls into a fist. "They're gone," theywhispers.

Oh.

Aofil's not sure how to feel, if they're supposed to feel it all. Perhaps they're too tired, too exhausted, but for now it's just.

Nothing.

"I see," they still answer. "Went away when you woke up?"

Frisk nods.

"And that's why you can talk to me now?"

Another nod.

"Have you told Asgore and Toriel?"

Head shake.

"Do you wa-"

"No!"

Aofil flinches back. "Alright, alright."

Frisk falls into their torso, wrapping their arms around Aofil. Aofil almost falls backwards, and have to grab the door frame so they don't. They drag themselves upright, and place their hands awkwardly on Frisk's shoulders.

"I don't want to lose you too..." the sobbing human coughs. "I promised Chara. I promised myself."

Aofil gently, yet still firmly, pushes Frisk away from their chest. "Frisk," Aofil sighs to the side. "If it happens that I can't stay here, then it's not your fault. It's the monsters. I know that they have good intentions, but you can still hurt someone despite having good intentions. I'm sure that you're aware of that, Frisk."

Frisk's lips curl up.

"I need to confront them about this, about everything I've done, and everything they've done. It's not only for my sake, but for theirs as well. They've done wrong to me, and I have to have them hear me telling them that. It isn't a matter of apologizing, because they're gonna do so instantly. I won't even be able to finish talking before they're gonna throw their hearts out in forgiveness. It's not about that. It's about..."

What is it about?

"...It's about..."

Aofil doesn't know.

Maybe that's the reason? That they don't know. That they don't know what has hurt them, what has them hesitating to come back. They know what the monsters done. They need more hands than what they have to count it all.

Yet, they can't say what needs to be done to fix it. What the monsters can do to make it up to Aofil.

"Is it about you?" Frisk asks after seeing Aofil struggle with their own thoughts.

"Maybe..." Aofil let's go of Frisk's shoulders. "Maybe. I want to come back, but if I do it now, then it won't be fair to myself. It won't be fair to what I've gone through. I've almost died, I've fused magically, I've experienced so much that a human, or a monster, should ever go through. It's not something I can just shrug off. I'm gonna have those memories forever. They're never gonna leave me. I just…I need them to somehow convince me that they can dampen the thoughts, that they can keep my mind away from these memories."

Aofil looks down the hallway, towards the stairs leading down. "And all of the memories are about them. They have a lot of explaining to do, but I don't know what I want them to explain about."

A lovely smell of sweet and sour hits Aofil's nose. Golden Flower tea.

"Smells like tea is ready. I should probably head down there before it becomes cold. I guess they're reheating it though, since I was in that shower for so long."

Frisk nods.

"Guess I should head down before it becomes cold again then."

Another nod.

"Did Chara say something about me before they disappeared?"

Third nod.

"Thank you," Frisk says while putting their hand over their heart.

Aofil's not sure why they asked, but they still feel warm from hearing the answer.

"I see."

The hallway feels a bit shorter to Aofil now that they can walk somewhat normally. The stairs down is a bit of a chore though, and they use the hand railing as support. Once down they turn the corner into the kitchen.

Whatever silent commotion halts, and all eyes move over to Aofil. They head for the empty chair at the end of the table. Undyne spins it around for them, and Aofil sits down. On the other side of the table, Toriel motions between two pies. Aofil shrugs, and throws a hand towards the one on the right.

A carved piece, along with a cup of tea, is passed over. The sweet and sour dance has been a long time coming, and Aofil indulges in the taste for a long while before setting their cup down on the table.

As the silence again takes precedent, an anxious sob is heard from upstairs.

"Go upstairs," Asgore asks of Asriel. "Take care of your sibling, please."

Toriel agrees with a nod. "We'll call for you two a bit later. Sound good?"

Asriel looks towards his parents, then over to Aofil. He stands up with a conflicted expression, but is halted by Toriel.

"Take these with you." She carves out a couple of pie slices, and hands two small plates over to Asriel, along with a gentle kiss on his forehead. "It's all gonna be fine."

Asriel passes Aofil without so much as a glance from either of them.

Aofil takes another sip of their tea.

They roll up their sleeve, and put their patch of fur out on the table for all to see.

With a solemn nod, Asgore takes a deep breath.