Chapter Eight: Bells

Frisk was stunned by Alphys's betrayal. It felt like a betrayal, as if she and Alphys had been in this together to save Asriel, no matter what - only to suddenly be alone on this side of that problem. She wanted to protest, to explain why she was doing this, but even if she could she knew,by now, that it would go nowhere. She had known Alphys for years, had been taught by her and been her friend as well; when the doctor had that look in her eyes, nothing and no one would stop her.

Alphys was now holding the syringe with calm claws, her jaw set and her smile unawavering. She walked to Frisk's body and carefully pulled up the sleeve of her sweater, then cleaned the crook of her elbow carefully of blood and dirt with a small gauze pad.

Frisk suddenly felt panicked. "Asriel, please," she pleaded. She was terrified. "Please let go of my hand. Let go. Let me go." She knew, deep down in her instincts, that if he did, she would truly die, and her soul - however it would be - would either become his, or become nothing but vapour. She wanted to live, but the idea of suddenly waking up as someone else... it was too much. She was too scared, and would rather pick death.

Asriel bared his teeth and rubbed his forehead, but said nothing. Instead, he grabbed her hand and held it tighter, holding it now between the two of his.

"Asriel, stop! What if I wake up as Chara? What will you do then? What if she tries to take..." She trailed off, and suddenly her voice sounded odd. "Control of you. Asriel... let go of my hand."

He felt a chill go up his spin, and his eyes met Alphys's at once, stopping her. "No," he said aloud carefully. "I won't let go of your hand, Frisk." He paused. "So stop threatening me."

Alphys's eyes narrowed. "Does she know that the gurney she is currently lying on has restraints?" she wondered, her voice as sharp as her smile. "And that I know how to ensure one can't move if I don't choose them to?"

Frisk was silent, and her thought vanished almost as soon as it came, leaving her feeling nauseated and disgusted with herself. The sudden realisation of what she had actually considered hit her, then, and she felt like scum. "Asriel..." she murmured.

"I'm not letting go," he answered aloud again.

"Okay. And I'm not... I won't..."

"No," he said mentally, now. "You won't. But you thought about it. And you're not even injected yet."

That hurt, and at first it felt like more than she deserved - until she actually thought about it. Then she thought that maybe he was being kind. He could have said much worse. "Asriel... I'm so sorry..." she said honestly.

"I know," he answered, a trace gentler. "You're scared, I get it. But if you can't trust me, trust Alphys, will you?"

"I trust you," she admitted.

He was silent for a moment, surprised. That was the last thing he had expected to hear. "How? I've lied to you, attcked you, tried to kill you... I stole your soul!"

Frisk laughed suddenly. "Everyone's tried to kill me, Asriel. I now consider it the only way to make true friends."

"Asriel," Alphys said, breaking the silence. "Do I need the restraints?"

"No," Frisk said honestly.

"No," he echoed. "She says she trusts me. Us. You and I." He stumbled over the words, unable to form them too well. He was confused. "You're crazy, Frisk," he concluded finally. "But we still need you here."

Frisk was silent, for almost too long, until she finally said, "Okay. I'm ready to try."

Asriel again met Alphys's gaze and nodded. Wordlessly, Alphys leaned over Frisk and injected the needed, then pushed the plunger down The bright, almost shimmering substance vanished into her arm, and was gone.

It hurt.

That was Frisk's first thought. She watched the needle go in through Asriel, and for a moment, it was if nothing happened. Alphys put the syringe aside and placed two fingers to Frisk's throat, her eyes on the watch on her other wrist, waiting.

Then, as if Alphys had changed a channel on the TV of her life, everything went blank, and everything hurt.

"Asriel?" she called, wondering if the darkness meant another meeting of his soul. She couldn't move or see herself in this darkness, and the pain was new, but she still had to try. "Asriel?!"

But no one answered.

Frisk couldn't move, couldn't even tell if she had anything to move. Asriel was not there, she couldn't even feel him anymore. She could only feel pain, and now fear.

No.

Was she dead? Or had it happened, and she was in a prison in her own mind, doomed to stay, while Chara ruled her body in her place?

"Asriel!" she called again. Then, when she began to call him again, something else came out instead. "Mama-Tori? Papa-Gorey? Anyone?! Someone?!"

But nobody came.

It hurt.

Asriel felt her absence as if physically cut, the sudden emptiness and loneliness he had managed to ignore this whole time taking her place. He lowered his head and shut his eyes tight, gritting his teeth in order to keep calm. He was afraid, not only of losing her, but also himself.

The longer time went, he realised he was safe. Somehow, something had connected within him through Frisk, as if she were the glue added to a severed wire. He felt whole physically, no longer teetering on the edge of insanity, no longer imprisoned in that body that was never truly his.

"She... she's gone," he managed to say softly.

Alphys had watched him, keeping half of her attention on Frisk, the rest on him. She'd seen him suddenly cower with fear, and knew that what he said was the truth. The fact that he was also still himself was a good thing, too (she'd feared that she would have found some way to inject him again, or that nothing she could do would matter, and he was stuck.) However, as the minutes stretched on, he stayed the same, they both knew that that part of the plan had worked. Thankfully.

Asriel lowered his gaze to Frisk, searching her face for any sign that she was there. But nothing changed, not even her expression, and the longer they waited, the more their shared fear increased.

"She's... Doctor, she's not.." Asriel looked up at Alphys, and she was staring back, her smile gone, now, replaced by bemused fear. "She's not breathing."

"I know," she said carefully, feeling a lump form in her throat and swallowing hard to try and dislodge it. "I don't understand it. She should at least have a pulse by now."

Asriel stared at her. "Meaning what?"

Alphys stared back, her mouth going dry, her eyes wide. Her hands began to shake, and she said, barely able to, "Meaning... I-I... I've failed."

Frisk still couldn't move, still couldn't feel. She tried, but kept feeling a wall of pain in response, not going away, no matter how hard she tried - and she tried hard. All she could do was try to call out for help, for Asriel or Toriel or Asgore, anyone, hoping that someone could hear her. She felt trapped and feared that the longer she stayed in this darkness, the more it meant she was imprisoned. She was horrified to think about what would happen to Alphys and Asriel...

She started screaming, her panic forcing her to. She lost her calm with each call that went unanswered. No matter how loud she tried, how many times, she still got no answer.

Nobody came.

"You... what?" Asriel echoed. "You failed?"

Alphys pulled her hand away slowly, and he watched her move so sharply it was like being cut. "It's... been too long," she murmured, her eyes filling. "The-the others, th-they had opened their eyes b-by now..."

Asriel stared at her. He felt as if she had just force-fed him solid lead, his gut felt so heavy and pained. Seeing her tears, he knew that she was being honest. He knew she wouldn't exaggerate something like this.

"Sh-she..." Alphys was whispering, her hands to her chest, unable to look at him now. "I-I-I'm s-sorry..."

Asriel felt cold at that, not a common feeling for a monster who knew a bit of fire magic. But then this cold was not physical; rather, it was the horror of realising that, just like that, the one they loved was gone, had slipped through - and was never coming back.

Dead.

He shook his head suddenly, so sharply his neck hurt. He bared his teeth at her, then looked down at Frisk, searching for some kind of sign, anything, no matter how small...

Nothing. Just the sound of Alphys's tears.

"Frisk," he muttered out between his teeth. He felt anger, yes, but also deep, undeniable grief. "You can't go. I... I just got here. We're supposed to be..." He shook his head again. "Frisk!" He shouted it, clutching her hand to his chest, over his heart. "Frisk! Damn you, you idiot, wake up!"

"Asriel..." Alphys tried softly, but he glared at her, his tears running free and burning down his cheeks. She flinched, taking a step back, and he looked back at Frisk. He refused to it as her body, and not her.

"Frisk!" he shouted again, his voice breaking. "Can you hear me? Are you too stupid to hear?! Frisk!"

Something suddenly changed. Frisk didn't know what, but it felt different. The darkness didn't change, but the way it felt suddenly did. She tried to grasp onto what it was, but couldn't comprehend it.

Until she heard his call.

"Asriel," she whispered. He was calling for her. With each shout, the sound got louder, the pain still great, but almost easier to bear alongside his voice. She could soon not just hear her name, but the words that went with it.

Suddenly, she felt as if two small hands gave her a great shove forward from the small of her back. She felt as if she were stumbling, falling into that wall of pain, then falling through it...

She held onto his call, calling back, responding to everything he was saying.

And then, she was greeted by something that both hurt and healed.

Light.

Frisk's eyes snapped open, a second before she gasped, the sound so loud it scared both Alphys and Asriel. She coughed, trying to breathe again, blinded by the ceiling lights and thinking of breathing, desperate for her. Against Asriel's chest, her hand twitched, then grasped his clothes tight.

Alphys jolted back to herself the moment Frisk began to cough, going instantly on autopilot mode. She scrambled back to the work desk and pulled open a few drawers before she found what she needed. She rushed back with another syringe and a small bottle, and she filled the needle with sure hands as she went ot Frisk's side. She injected it into Frisk's arm at once, and Frisk felt it with another gasp, shutting her eyes tight. Her whole body went hot, and it was if she had been encased in fire, it was so sudden. It didn't take away the pain, but it distracted her from it, and she knew from that what it was: adrenaline.

Immediately, when she was able to stop coughing and just breathe normally, Asriel had her in his arms, holding her so close she could hear his heartbeat, its racing pace soothing to her oddly. It was racing, as if he'd been the one given adrenaline, and his whole body shook. She tried to hug him back, desperate to, but her arms wouldn't comply; only her hands seemed to work. One of her hands was still clutching the front of his robes, so she focussed on that, trying to find a way to ground herself, everything confusing and intense.

"I... heard you... your call," she managed finally, her voice so tiny she barely recognised it, herself. "I heard you calling for me, Asriel..."

Asriel shut his eyes, holding her closer. He couldn't speak already, but her words seemed to steal anything he could possibly say. She kept repeating it, unable to say anything else, and he just listened, relieved to be hearing her breathe, let alone talking..

During this time, Alphys wasn't idle. After she had given Frisk the dose of adrenaline, she moved around Asriel in order to check her vitals and make sure that she was at least stable. She would do as much as she could within her own skills, but she knew that it was likely Frisk either needed Toriel's healing or a hospital.

But she was alive. Frisk was alive. And Asriel was, too.

"Frisk," Asriel was saying, now, his voice soft and his eyes shut. She nodded, and he said it again, and again, until he broke down and sobbed. Finally, she managed to raise her free arm to grasp at his back, as tight as she could. It seemed to make him cry harder, until Frisk realised that the increase was with laughter, mingled with those tears. She smiled and shut her eyes, loving the sound, feeling it come from deep within his chest, and she held onto that sound like she held onto him.

And that was precisely the moment Toriel, Asgore and Undyne reached their room and found them.

Toriel and Asgore had followed Undyne down the halls, her red hair a beacon as she darted around, trying to find the right way, as the only one of the three who knew the lab best.

"Wait," Asgore suddenly said, holding up a hand to stop Undyne in mid-stride. His ears twitched, and suddenly he sneezed. Toriel looked up at him in surprised; he was turned in the direction they had just come from, his nose now, twitching, too. "Tori..." he said her name in such a strange tone, one she couldn't name. "That... scent...?"

Toriel shook her head. "Asgore, we need to..." But the look in his eyes stopped her at once: he looked haunted. She stopped, searching his face, before taking in a deep breath - and then she smelt it, too.

"Uh, guys, we need to-hey!" Undyne broke in, sounding uncomfortable at first, then annoyed, looking as if she wanted to either punch or hug them. Likely both.

"It's this way," Asgore interrupted, grabbing Toriel's hand, which was already reaching for his. Together, they turned back and ran past her in the opposite direction, before making a sharp detour. Undyne was surprised by how well and fast they both could move if they wanted to, but she still ran after them, managing to keep up.

"Can't be," Asgore was muttering. Toriel agreed; it was impossible, but they could both still smell it, and it was not just the scent of Frisk this time. It was something else, someone else.

"Here, Gorey!" Toriel suddenly cried out, pulling him back the other way, back to a door they had almost passed. He turned with her, and they both rushed into the room, allowing hope to permeate their hearts like young fools...

...only to be rewarded not once, but twice.

At first, neither Asriel nor Frisk noticed the company. There was truly nothing beyond the two of the,. Despite how different he looked and felt, Frisk didn't feel as if Asriel was a stranger. Rather, she felt she'd been waiting an eternal amount of time to get to this point, to finally be able to embrace him, instead of just patting him on the head. For Asriel, it was exactly what he had yearned to do for eight years. For him, it felt as if everything was finally in place, and all he had had to go through was finally paid off.

It was only when they heard Alphys speak that they managed to remember that others did, in fact, exist.

"Undyne, Undyne, I'm fine! I'm fine!" she was trying to say, but kept getting interrupted by Undyne either hugging her or kissing her, her worry and relief so obvious it made Alphys tear up. Finally, she just gave up, and Undyne pulled her close, hugging her tight, which Alphys returned with a smile.

"Asriel...?"

Both Frisk and Asriel started at that, the voice familiar to both of them. Asriel's eyes widened and Frisk could feel him start to tremble. His hold loosened a bit, then tightened, and she winced but stayed close, feeling oddly alert despite the situation. Her eyes shifted over, and she saw both Toriel and Asgore staring at them both, their expressions identical: shocked, hopeful confusion.

"Mama... Papa..." Frisk murmured, trying to smile again, feeling relief flood her at the sight of them, and comfort.

Asriel's eyes slowly met theirs, feeling them burn, his whole body burn, really. For a staggering moment, that hot fear filled him, terrified of them all of a sudden. He felt Frisk's hand on his back flatten out and rub gently with a shaking hand. She knew he was afraid.

"Oh..." Toriel's hands were at her mouth, her eyes so wide they seemed to take up her whole face. Asgore was also in tears, but he also wore the widest grin on his face through them.

"M-Mom..." Asriel stammered, his shakes clearly visibly now. "D-Dad... I can... explain..."

Toriel lunged for him and was embracing him before he could finish. She held him to her, also pulling Frisk close, and she buried his face into the top of his head - now just her height - just like she did when he was barely to her knees. His scent - so real now, not just an idea in the air - washed over her, and between her sobs she laughed, her laugh the happiest anyone had ever heard her make. She didn't care how it happened, or even why. All she cared about was the fact that, somehow, not only was Frisk safe - she lowered her face at one point to Frisk's head, just to be sure - but so was her long-dead son.

"Uh, Asgore...?" Undyne was saying, her voice careful. "Is that...?" She turned to Alphys, who was already beaming, in tears but also happy about it. "What did you do, dear wife?" she added.

"Is it him, Tori?" Asgore asked softly. When, in response, she waved her hand to him, he went to her side at once, embracing her. It was truly a hug-pile of Dreemurrs.

"I'm so sorry," Asriel was sobbing, confused by their reception but also so incredibly relieved. "I'm so sorry..."

But his mother and father merely held him - and their daughter - closer, and he couldn't help it. He wailed, then, years of grief, of lies and hatred, of loneliness and pain, only properly conveyed in that one long, drawn out keen.

Frisk heard it, and she shut her eyes, feeling both deeply sad - but incredibly happy, too.