Sans woke first the next day. Frisk was still in his bed, curled up beside him, their hair a messy plume sticking out from under the duvet. He lifted the covers enough to see their face. They looked peaceful.
As they should; they had most of the bed, lying diagonally across the double mattress, limbs flopped out. He grinned and stretched, careful to neither nudge the human nor fall. He had to be honest with himself, though- he had slept well himself. His mind went back to their discussion. Frisk's determination not to let anything happen again.
He didn't even know how much they were responsible for the timeline jumping. Less than he'd first thought, he was sure now; most of it was due to that damned flower, which haunted his dreams now, mocking him, a hint of memories out of his reach. But... It had been months. They'd reached the point where "everything ended", and they'd come back from the edge. And he didn't think anything had happened since. There were no tickles at the back of his mind; no moments that felt like something was missing, that he'd done something before.

Was it over? Could he let himself believe that? Sure, it was easily done now, with the sun shining in his window and the birdsong outside. He knew even Frisk had moments where they expected it all to be pulled out from under them- if for radically different reasons.
The kid shifted position, more of their face becoming visible. They really did look like a child when they slept, rather than someone starting to turn into an adult. They had a lot of reasons to fear, but they had never given up on the people they cared about. He'd never given up on Papyrus, for that matter; no matter how hopeless things were, he always tried to do things for his brother, even with the knowledge that one day everything he'd done would be undone, reset. Frisk refused to limit that to one person, though- they pushed through their fears for everyone. Even themself. Even when they didn't feel like they deserved it, even when they were wracked with doubt- they never gave up.

He reached over and brushed some messy hair out of their face. They made a sleepy noise and shifted again. Maybe he should try to learn some of Frisk's lessons.
With the sun shining and the birds singing outside, with the smell of Papyrus' cooking sneaking under the door and Frisk slowly opening their eyes to look at him, it felt like one of the best ideas he'd ever had.

A hearty (if not delicious) breakfast with their best friends after what ended as a good night sleep put a spring in Frisk's step and a smile on their face as they walked home. Where the sun hadn't hit it yet, the frost still held on to patches of grass, which crunched underfood; the birds were raucous, flocking to the feeders monsters had hung from trees. A few of the larger ones, Frisk knew, were monsters themselves; fascinated by the animals they somewhat resembled they tried to join in, with varying success.
The path home was far too short for Frisk's liking; they barely got to appreciate the morning for a minute when they got close enough to the front door to hear voices. Raised ones, to be heard from where they stood, but it didn't sound like they were shouting exactly. The voices were familiar enough that Frisk's confusion was over why.
Toriel didn't raise her voice- she was capable of it, when getting rowdy schoolkids to pay attention, but Frisk had never heard her do it otherwise, never out of anger or frustration. And Asgore- he still pined over Toriel. He had never pushed her, never questioned her; never resented her resentment. It was all very odd.

Frisk opened the front door quietly and slipped in. It seemed neither of them noticed the light spilling into the hallway; too intent on their... Discussion? Argument?
"I'm not saying I want to take them away from you-"
"That is certainly what it sounds like, Dreemurr!" Toriel's voice was cold. "What right do you have?"
"This isn't about my rights, but theirs! They deserve to make the choice-"
"And it would make things easier on you and this- this damned paperwork!"
"That does not concern me!" Frustration was thick in Asgore's voice; that was new to Frisk. "But if they wish it-"
"And if they do not?"

"If I wish what?" The pair of them whirled around to look at Frisk. "You're... talking about me, right?"
There was a long moment where they just stared. Then Asgore cleared his throat.
"Well, yes, we were-"
"You should hear... some of this, Frisk, dear," Toriel interrupted. "Please- come and sit with us."
Frisk didn't point out that they hadn't been seated themselves, but took a seat at the table. They reclaimed their forgotten chairs, and Toriel started to get the papers spread over the table in order.

"I received a letter from Mayor Eastaugh," Asgore said, watching Frisk's face closely. They frowned.
"What does she want?" Their voice was more churlish than intended.
"She said- well, she did apologise." Toriel snorted and looked ready to interrupt Asgore; but she glanced at Frisk's face and closed her mouth again. "She said she... needed to be able to tell people that you didn't want to leave. It's all jolly complicated, there are a lot of rules that-"
"We are getting you a birth certificate," Toriel interrupted, clearly unhappy with the conversation. "'Frisk Dreemurr'. Is that- what you wish, my child?" Frisk nodded emphatically. "Good. At least that is one thing that is easy to resolve."

"There's one problem, Frisk. The mayor thought, as you used my surname, that you perhaps lived with me, or-"
"They live here. It is not a problem."
"There is... also spaces for two parents on the paperwork, Frisk." Asgore looked... embarrassed, his eyes anywhere but Frisk. Toriel started to speak again; but Frisk looked at her and she stopped, uncomfortable.
"So?" Frisk shrugged. "Do I... have two parents? Do you both want to put your names down?"
Asgore looked like he was going to cry as he finally met Frisk's eyes. He reached out to take their hand. "Gosh- Frisk- if you want that- I would... I would love that. I promise, I would look after you the best that I can."
Toriel grumbled, her arms folded, looking away. Asgore looked at her, sadness overtaking his expression for a moment. Frisk ignored her.
"Does this mean, um... That I'll spend time at yours more often?"
"Golly, well, that- that is up to you, Frisk!"
They nodded. "Maybe at least one night a week? For now?"
"As long as it does not interrupt your schoolwork," Toriel said curtly. She abruptly got up from the table and went into the kitchen. Asgore and Frisk both watched her go silently. Asgore let out a heavy sigh, but forced himself to turn back to Frisk and try to smile at them.

"So- if I pick you up from school? And you can stay at my house? We can- I can get some games to play inside when it's cold, and-" Frisk squeezed his hand, and he fell silent.
"I don't want you to have to put yourself out," they said. Asgore shrugged.
"I want you to be happy."
"I am." Frisk paused, then grinned; a genuine, infectious grin that Asgore found himself copying. The truth of their words sank in.

"I am happy."

Toriel was considerably less so. Once Asgore left, Frisk went to join her in the kitchen. She remained at the sink, washing up, not saying anything, so Frisk stood next to her and hugged her side. She stopped what she was doing, but still didn't speak.
"You're upset." She didn't answer, but it hadn't been a question. "I don't like it." She finally turned to look at them.
"I thought about... what we discussed. Perhaps you were right, dear one, but... Forgiveness is a process, and it can be slow." She paused, before pulling her hands from the hot water and peeling off her washing up gloves. She laid her hand on Frisk's head, stroking their hair.
"I will try, my dear. I will try not to be unhappy, about you wanting him in your life."
"I don't love you less," Frisk said.

Toriel got on her knees and pulled Frisk into a tight, proper hug. "Oh, my sweet one," she said. "How do you find the right things to say like that?"
"Practice?" Toriel laughed, knowing Frisk meant all the monsters they had "fought", having to talk them down, trying to leave them happier than they found them.
"Yes, I suppose you have had plenty of that." She gave them an extra squeeze before pulling back. "Are you still behind on your homework?"
"I did some last night."
"'Some'?"
"And, uh, I'm going to... go and do more. As soon as I've showered." Toriel smiled at that.

She tidied off what was left on the table as her child (her child, she repeated to herself) went to shower and change. She would have to get them to leave a pair of pyjamas at each of their friends' houses, she mused, pulling their books out and spreading them out on the table.
It didn't have to be any different. They spent as many nights out as they could get away with anyway. And Asgore had been a good father, once, long ago. She sighed heavily and sat at the table.
He probably missed their children. And he did seem to care for Frisk, despite what he had intended to do. Frisk's words about forgiveness went through her mind; their face so young, so innocent, their voice so soft, but their words showed how they'd been forced to grow up too much, too soon. They needed stability, and love, and reassurances. And... as angry as she was with what he had done, he had been good at that, once.

Long ago.

I could see Frisk's relationship with Asgore being quite an issue for Toriel- but at the same time it would force her to make peace with their history together and who he's become, and why. There were a lot of ways this could go- and if that horrible scene two chapters ago hadn't happened I don't think it could have gone so smoothly.
Hopefully their issues with each other can be resolved while reducing how much Frisk feels caught in the middle.

Also, I never wanted the mayor to be so much of an antagonist as she came across. She was in a difficult position without any experience to help her know what to do.

-Ren