Writer's Note: I must stress, everything, everything I write, is pure speculation and conclusion based on my own encounters, ideas, and experiences with Undertale. If I screw something up, it's me, and not the source. I do admit freely that I'm not as in-depth when it comes to my knowledge of all of the lore, but I've tried to find as much as I can to fill the gaps in - and still come up lacking. So again, I've made my own connections and conclusions during the writing of this little series - and this fic in particular - which will likely not match anyone else's (if it does I'll be so flattered). So please, trust me, and take it all with a grain of salt. I'm just a dork on the internet who loves a game probably too much. Eheh...

Chapter Six: Dance

Everything was dark, as if she had woken up to find her eyelids glued shut. But Frisk knew her eyes were open. She just didn't know where she was, and what she was even looking at.

Is this death? she wondered idly. She remembered Sans's last attack, probably the most terrifying thing she'd since that day in the Underground, with Asriel's nightmare form, created from agony and regret. Rows of bones, hundreds of them, she knew, from everywhere, patterns so narrow she always got hurt, those scratches growing the longer she left them alone... and those blasters... they had hurt the most...

She remember falling, hearing her heart beating in her ears like a rushing ocean, the sound so loud and fast it was all she really could hear - even though, from far away, she could hear voices, one she knew for sure to be Alphys - especially when she heard her shouting to stay determined.

But eventually, even she became silent, her mind filling with the sound of a dying heart. Until, suddenly, the light behind her eyelids - blood red - became white, and when she opened them, she found herself here, in this odd pocket of midnight.

Did I die? Am I dead? Is this what happens to humans when we die? Has my soul vanished, now? Or am I still here because I'm still alive somehow...?

She had to figure it out. She knew she did, because otherwise, she'd be trapped here, and everything she'd done, everything she'd stood up for, would be gone in a second.

Frisk shuddered suddenly, and she wrapped her arms around her middle, feeling a deep chill, as if under her skin. Then, all at once - she didn't know how - she became aware that she wasn't alone.

Slowly, she turned around, and her eyes fell on a small monster child, his back to her. And the image suddenly shattered into a prism of tears.

"Asriel," she whispered.

Slowly, he turned around, and as he did, his body seemed to shift slowly, blurring and changing as he turned to face her... into an Asriel that he would have been, had he lived to be her brother. A taller version of himself, showing horns and longer fangs, the lines more defined, mature. When he was finally fully facing her, he no longer wore the child's striped shirt, but rather expensive-looking clothes, the kind an actual prince might wear, coloured a midnight purple and crested with the Delta Rune - almost identical to the clothes he had worn the last time he wore that form. The major difference, the one that truly mattered, was his face, his expression. The last time, his face had either been twisted into a mocking grin, a snarl of hatred, or, the worst - the face of someone in absolute, heart-breaking agony.

But his face now... it was so gentle, but also full of regret. He was almost unrecognisable, except that she had spent years staring at his child-self, and knew it was him for real. If anything, it was like seeing an old, beloved friend, after so many years of regretful separation.

Wordlessly, she crossed the distance, and without hesitation, just like those years ago, she embraced him. And like before, he hesitated, just a bit, before hugging her back, holding onto her as though for dear life, his face going to her shoulder - just like before.

"I'm so sorry," he said, his voice just like it had been in that horrible form - but without its hatred, its furious pain. It was his true voice, a deeper version of the voice she had spent years trying never to forget.

"I knew it," she answered back softly. She could feel that he was shaking, and she pulled him closer. She shut her eyes, letting her tears fall. "I knew it. You're a good liar, Asriel. I'll give you that. And a good actor."

"Frisk, I..."

"I know," she admitted. She knew the moment she saw him. "You absorbed my soul."

Asriel cringed, his hold loosening, but she kept her hold the same. "I... had to. You were... I couldn't stand it..."

"It's okay." She said it truthfully. Frisk was always practical, and this time was no exception; she knew Asriel had had no choice, and that if he did it, she must have been in a bad state, indeed. She managed a smile. "If anything, it makes things easier, doesn't it?"

Asriel didn't say anything, not at first. Frisk waited, always patient, though a part of her was actually marvelling at how well she was taking all of this. She'd been right all along - Asriel had been there - but she had also been more than right, that he hadn't soulless, and had been lying to punish himself rather than her, which was what she'd also thought. Even the fact that he'd just stolen her soul didn't make her react like she probably normally would. Rather, after having to see the other side of Sans, and forced to defend herself against him, she found the prospect almost a relief. At least this way, she could see if her theory was right, and much easier...

Finally, Asriel spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "Why are you taking this so well?"

Frisk shrugged. "Compared to Sans, this is like pie for every meal."

Asriel paused, suddenly holding her closer again. "I never asked you, Frisk... which one is your favourite?"

"Hm? What do you mean?"

"Butterscotch or cinnamon?"

She laughed, unable to keep it in. She laughed so hard, she had to pull away, hunching over with her mirth, hands on her knees. Asriel stood with his hands up, looking both confused and also amused. He smiled a little at first, then started laughing with her, unable to help it. Frisk had one of those laughs.

When she calmed down, she found that her eyes were still full of tears, and would not stop, despite her attempts and her laughter being done. It was then that she realised she was shaking. And that's when it finally hit her at full force: she only had one shot, and she had to pay the only price she could.

But... was Sans right? She had to make sure.

Frisk stood her full height and turned to Asriel at once, and his smile faded the moment his eyes met hers. He swallowed, hard. It was like he knew what was coming, but she said it anyway.

"Why did you do it, Asriel?" she demanded, her voice quiet. "Why did you lie to me, when all I wanted was the truth to actually be the truth? Why did you lie to me for so long? Is it because of me?"

Asriel's eyes flared, and he shook his head, his teeth bared. "No! Not directly! It was more like..." He bit down hard on his bottom lip, his eyes troubled. "The more time I spent with you, the more I felt I needed to lie. I... didn't deserve your time, but you kept coming back. It wasn't to hurt you, Frisk. I..." He winced, looking away. "I hate that I hurt you."

"Sans told me something while he was trying to - well, I guess he did - kill me. He said..." Frisk stared at him, making sure she missed nothing in his face. Despite everything, she still felt as if she knew him so well, already used to his changed appearance, his real voice, even his mannerisms. It was like she had always expected that from him, despite his always being Flowey. It was strange. "Sans told me you were that way because you not only wanted to hurt yourself, but you wanted someone to kill you," she blurted it out in one breath, so fast he blinked in shock, before looking instantly guilty. Her stomach hurt at once at seeing this. "So it's true, then? You don't want to come back? You don't want to be saved?"

Asriel shook his head slowly, looking as if the gesture was less of an answer and more of an attempt to clear his mind, sort his thoughts. Frisk suddenly wondered, how odd was it for him? How strange was this situation, and how would he cope?

She found out with his answer.

"Yes," Asriel admitted silently. "He was right about that. When I realised I was trapped, when all I could do was reset and reset over and over, and nothing changed when everything did..." He put a hand to his forehead, again baring his teeth in frustration. It was a gesture wholly his own; neither Asgore nor Toriel had the same habit. "I wanted to so much, and practically dared everyone to do it. But no one would. Obviously."

He then met her eyes again, and Frisk kept his gaze, though she had a hand to her stomach, still feeling that pain, that dread. "But then you fell..." He bit his lip, then added, "Then you jumped down. And suddenly, I found not only a challenge, but an equal - perhaps even a superior. You bested me and my powers and didn't even know it until I told you. That... shocked me. I wondered if you were the one who would finally kill me."

Frisk was the one biting her lip, now, trying to stay quiet, when all she wanted to do was protest, to yell, to say anything, to make him stop. She didn't realise just how painful this would be to hear.

"But then, as time went on..." Asriel hesitated. "I wasn't sure. You were so interesting and... kind... I mean, you spared Jerry, and that guy has been getting on my damned nerves for years!"

Frisk smiled a bit at that.

"Your way intrigued me, and I wanted to learn from you, but you kept going, and you were going too fast for me to catch up, and..." Asriel looked haunted. "I panicked. A lot."

"I'll say," Frisk agreed. "And after?"

"After, I didn't feel as if I deserved to be your friend, but I didn't want to let you go. So I... made that deal with you."

Frisk stared at him for a while, before admitting, "I'm glad you did, Asriel."

"Me, too," he agreed, sounding relieved, as if he expected her to yell or react in some way. She wondered why, after all this time, he would expect a reaction other than the one she just had. Didn't he know her well enough by now? Or was his self-doubt, his self-hatred, so blinding?

Frisk could already see that she was right in his expression alone. "Well..." she said softly, reaching out and taking one of his hands between her own; it was bigger than hers, but her fingers were far more agile and slender. It was an interesting contrast. "We're here now. We need to make the best of this. And, you're obviously not alone, now."

She smiled, and Asriel smiled a little back, before looking away for a moment. She blinked, then her smile widened when she heard him sniffle, just a bit. It was what Asgore did when he wanted to hide his years, too.

"What do we do now?" Asriel wondered. "I can't reverse what I've done."

"I know, but it's okay. I have a plan. Sort of. But we need to go back with Alphys to Hotland, to the True Lab."

Asriel's hand within hers jerked a little at that, and his eyes widened. "Why there?" he wondered, his voice wavering. Clearly, the place held no love from him, and she couldn't blame him.

"Just trust me, okay? I'll explain on the way." she said instead of answering him. She knew if she did, he probably would resist, and she couldn't have that. It wasn't exactly the way she had planned things - she hadn't expected to fight Sans, after all - but she figured it was as close as she would get, and she had to talk it.

When Asriel nodded, she added, "Then let's go back."

The entire exchange, though long, had lasted only briefly during the time it took for Asriel to not only absorb Frisk's soul, but also change his shape. During this brief time, sans had not only caught up, but Alphys was also ready to attack, her face almost terrifying in its rage. The moment he was close enough, Sans's eye burst into flame, his face showing no trace of a smile now, only pure, unmatched, murderous fury.

Needless to say, when Asriel opened his eyes, he was shocked into silence, frozen where he stood by them. Which was not good, because he needed to get to Frisk, and quickly, if he wanted her plan to work - whatever it was.

"What have you done?!" Alphys shouted, her voice echoing off of the very Ruins themselves. "And why?!"

Asriel felt his temper flare, like it always did. One of the few things he never had to lie about was how short his fuse was; the angry outbursts were usually genuine, something he never truly learned how to control. So when questioned this way, he - unhelpfully - snapped back. "Did you want Frisk to die?!"

Sans raised his hand at once, and Asriel flinched, unable to help it. Sans had always been frightening to him, no matter how hard he tried to hide it, and this was even worse - especially since he knew he had earned this hatred, even more now.

"You have made your life forfeit," said Sans, his voice so menacing that even Alphys winced from it.

Asriel held his hands up. "Okay, but, Frisk... she has a plan. She says she has a plan." His eyes went to Alphys. "She says it's with you... about her soul?"

Alphys stared at him, going pale at once. "She... says?" Her eyes flicked to Frisk's still form, then back to him. "You mean..." Her eyes suddenly focussed, and her staff vanished at once. She looked up at him and nodded. "Yes. Yes. Take her. Sans," she turned to him, holding up her hands. His burning eye met hers, the face so agonised it pained her to see, though a part of her thought, what did you expect after what you did, you idiot? "Back off. Let him pick her up. We need to go to Hotland."

Sans didn't lower his hand, and Asriel didn't move, though he felt panic - both his and Frisk's. When he said nothing, Alphys was the one who lost her temper. "Sans, move away. You did this, and now we have to clean up your mess."

He started at this, staring at her in disbelief. She glared back at him, obviously afraid of him, but more afraid of losing Frisk. Wordlessly, he lowered his hand, and the fire vanished, leaving behind a very different sans behind. He was barely recognisable. In that same silence, he shifted his gaze to Asriel and just glared, before turning on his heel and walking away. When he walked past a pillar, he was gone.

Alphys was relieved, and it showed. She nodded to Asriel, though she did so reluctantly. Everything about this was almost surreal, as if a hazy dream. She was standing in the Ruins, talking to the adult incarnation of the once prince of those ruins, who was now holding the empty form of his parents's adopted child in his arms, while he also carried her soul. But Alphys wouldn't let things like details stop her from her goal. She trusted Frisk, and believed Asriel when he said she had had a plan. Alphys would help him.

Or Alphys would kill him if he failed.

Asriel was holding Frisk as gently as he could. Deep within himself, he heard her voice say, "Ouch. I think I'm better here, for now. That looks rather painful." Oddly, it comforted him, the fact that she could still retain some of her wit despite their situation.

"You'll be back soon enough," he said mentally back, finding an ease in doing so.

She was silent at this, but Alphys was talking, distracting him. "We'll have to take the ferry, it's the only way to Hotland from here," she said, starting to walk quick, gesturing for him to follow. Now that she was finally taking action, her tears had stopped - mostly.

Asriel nodded, and without another word, they went.

"What was it like? All of those years. Tell me, Asriel."

Frisk's voice was very gentle, and Asriel of course replied, lulled into calmness by the sounds of the water rushing past. Alphys had actually paid the ferry person, who was surprised - until Asriel came into view. Needless to say, Alphys probably underpaid, but it explained the speed.

"It was..." How to explain years of confusion, of trying to use whatever power he had to make his life worth something, only to come up empty every time? That in his anger, he lashed out, made mistakes, restarted, only to make them again? And again? How could he put into words the pain of having to see his parents, his mother, almost every day, only to be forced, after so many times he tried the opposite, to pretend he was just another monster in the Ruins?

"Lonely," he finally said, unable to find the right words. "It was very lonely. Frustrating... and painful. Helpless..."

Frisk said, very gently, "I'm so sorry, Asriel."

"You didn't do it."

"No. But those feelings? I'm sorry you had to feel them alone for so long."

He couldn't reply to that. The feeling in his heart was too great, and threatened to make him say stupid things, regrettable things. So instead, he said nothing, biting down on his bottom lip hard. It was a habit he had learned from her.

By then, sans was long gone. He was actually on the surface, walking slow, heavy steps. When he reached his goal, he walked up to the door, and knocked at Frisk's home.

He knew what he had to do.

The True Lab was dimly lit, but clean and well kept: Alphys had taken Toriel's advice and hired one of the Woshuas as well for its care. With muscle memory she had actually thought her muscles forgot, she hurriedly led Asriel into the lab, watching him sharply as he carried Frisk - but he was always gentle, never once making a misstep. She was afraid of him, but she wouldn't let him use that against her. She would stay in charge. This was her ground, and she had done this to him. Therefore, she'd fix it.

As they walked, Asriel explained Frisk's plan, sounding confused and distracted as he repeated her words aloud. "She says that she talked to you about souls before, on the way to the Ruins, about how one human soul could equal a million, do you remember?" When Alphys nodded, he continued. "She had the idea of using her soul's determination as a kind of substitute for that, a way to give me - as Flowey - the determination to return back to this form." He hesitated, suddenly realising what he just said. "She's right. It did work, didn't it?"

Alphys glared at him, hating how he looked confused, but also hopeful all of a sudden. Wasn't he the one who had just used her own insecurities against her? And now here he was, as if someone completely different?

But then, she realised, he actually was, in a way. Not only was he in his own body, but he was also Frisk, sort of; Frisk was currently a part of him. Therefore, of course some of her calm and hope would perhaps rub off on him.

"Okay," he suddenly said, as they turned a corner, and Alphys unlocked another door. "She says that she knows there's a machine used to extract DT from the souls of the humans that Fath- Asgore had taken. The souls survived that. She figures that she would be able to do the same, despite being living, but... she's not sure if it'll work now that her soul is within me."

"Neither am I," Alphys agreed. It was an interesting plan, and had things happened differently, it might have worked. Certainly the fact that Asriel was not only in the form he was in, but he also was sane and coherent, seemed to also bode well for the theory. But how could they possibly gain access to her soul's DT now?

"Wait, wait," Asriel snapped suddenly, that anger showing up again. "No, I... wait." He paused, then said, "Okay. She says that there might be a way, if you explained how the machine worked to her. Is there a way to have her lie down?"

Alphys's eyes flared with understanding. "Yes. If we placed her there, but you kept physical contact, that might be enough to access her soul through you as a conduit, like the domes we used for the other souls. Is that what she means?"

Asriel was nodding. "She says that sounds like it could work." He paused. "This is strange. I hope it doesn't last. I'd rather Frisk be here."

"Me, too," Alphys admitted darkly. He heard her, but didn't said anything. Instead, he looked guilty. Alphys didn't bother addressing it, her mind already ahead of them and at the DT machine, trying to think of myriad ways to make this work.

If only I had more time, she thought, fury suddenly flaring and overtaking her grief. If only Sans hadn't attacked her, if only he hadn't...

For the second time in her life, she wanted to cause him actual physical harm. That had only happened once, involving Undyne, after he'd insulted her to actual tears - and Alphys to violence. She felt that same fury, but magnified infinitely, now. If I ever see him again, she thought, furiously blinking back tears, he's as close to dead as I can get him. She knew she could never kill Sans, even now, but she'd try. If she ever saw him again, she would try. With everything she had. She owed Frisk that much.

"Through here," she said shortly, opening the door and leading Asriel through the last hallway. His eyes were wide, bright with fear, going from place to place, visibly shaken.

"I can't be here, I can't be here..." he was thinking, the memories suddenly clear and painful in his mind.

"You can," Frisk said suddenly, her voice gentle, full of warmth. "You can, because you have to. And you're not alone, Asriel. Trust Alphys. I know it's hard, but she knows what she's doing. Trust her."

"I trust you."

"Then trust what I say."

He actually nodded, and suddenly he felt much calmer, his eyes suddenly getting a steely glint to them - of determination.

"sans, you're late, as usual, but maybe you can be useful for once," Undyne said as her greeting, looking irritated - and she was, because now she not only had to deal with Mettaton and property damage, but also the fact that no one knew where Alphys or Frisk were, and they weren't answering their phones. "Get in here, maybe you can..." Suddenly she took him all in, and her gut seized at once. "sans... what... what's happened? What's happened?!"

sans stood there, no trace of his smile on his face, now - just a pained grimace. His pinpoint eyes were dim, and he was actually shaking, trembling from skull to toe.

"sans?" Toriel's voice called, and he started, his eyes now brighter - with panic. When she appeared behind Undyne in the doorway, she was smiling, albeit a strained smile - until her eyes fell on him, and she froze. Her nostrils flared, and at once she jumped in front of Undyne, lunging forward and grabbing him by the shoulders, shocking Undyne into freezing.

"Where is she?!" Toriel shouted, the tone one Undyne - or sans - had never heard before. "Where is my daughter?! Why can I smell her blood on you?!" When his eyes met hers, her hands went hot. "Where is Frisk?!" she demanded, shaking him. "What have you done?!"

sans hesitated, and Undyne suddenly held a spear in one hand, already glaring at him. Without any fight, or any expression, he said, "exactly what you think. i'm sorry, tori."