Thanks go to Wingah, 2Strong2SignIn, XelaZagity, lmao-imdeadaf, Night4099, Sonic245, ARegularGuest, GMLxAwesome, TrueUndertrash, ZeroaraTheKnight, Nyxie Is A Gamer Nerd, 10burgers, and kdabo04!
Well you guys sure did come outta the woodwork for the date chapter, huh? I shoulda known that'd be more compelling than Errorphim's defeat lmao.
2Strong2SignIn, it has been a million years! Here I was worried I'd never get one'a your reviews again! And without you, who would pioneer for the Jade revival?
ZeroaraTheKnight, I actually considered putting in some line like "The first few seconds of Absolute Territory by Ken Ashcorp played in my head when I looked at the space between thigh high and shorts" but ultimately decided against it. Imagine my surprise when you read my mind in your review lmao.
Nyxie, glad to see ya again! I know your review was on chapter one so catching up is gonna be a long road (like, 1.3 million+ words long), but if and when ya reach this chapter you should drop a review to let me know how far you've made it! I hope you're enjoying the Rewrite, I know I've been enjoying writing it. :)
Alright ladies, theydies, gentlemen and gentlethems, hope you're all ready! We're in a post Errorphim era now, and it's gonna be somethin'! On to the chapter!
Disclaimer: I do not own Undertale.
Aliza sighed as she leaned forward onto the counter. She rested her elbows on the granite, propping up her hands and resting her chin atop her knuckles. She allowed herself a bored yawn; it'd been a quiet night. Her diner didn't close for another hour, but the place was empty. It wasn't supposed to be a busy day of the week, but even on a Tuesday she expected more people than this.
Her eyes glossed down to the menu laying on the counter in front of her. She furrowed her brows while she reached out, thoughtlessly drawing lines with her finger over the laminated paper. Across the letters, over her hungry scorpion mascot... An electronic click click click! pulled Aliza's eyes up across the eating area, and she smirked a little at the sight of one of her closers huddling her phone close and trying to be discreet about the text she was responding to. If only she'd thought to silence her phone first.
"... Whatcha doing, Sue?" Aliza called out, making her poor employee jump. The young blonde woman tossed her phone straight up into the air, and when it dropped back down she barely managed to snatch it out of the air.
"W-working!" Sue used one hand to hide her phone behind her back and the other to salute Aliza while she stood at attention. Immediately after she turned and snatched up the broom she'd left leaning against a chair, slipping her phone back into her pocket and getting right back to sweeping.
Aliza shook her head silently at her frazzled employee; few things in this life made her feel older than working with Sue. Still though, she was smiling. She couldn't help it, Sue was a sweet girl. Good company to have, even if she did get distracted on the job from time to time. After a moment, Aliza sighed and waved her hand at the younger blonde, making her pause and arch a brow over at her boss. Aliza explained, "You can go home if you want. I don't think anybody else is stopping in tonight."
"Really?!" Sue perked up immediately, a smile crossing her freckled face. Aliza nodded to confirm her hopes, and she beamed with joy. She grabbed her broom and started making a hasty path towards the back where she could put it away. With her free hand she pulled her phone back out of her pocket, staring down at the screen while she spoke. "My friends were just texting me about going to a movie - I'll tell them I can make it after all!"
"Sounds like fun." Aliza commented, standing up from where she'd been leaning and watching Sue disappear into the back of the restaurant. A few seconds passed before Sue returned, pulling her jacket on and slinging her purse over her shoulder.
"Oh, Lizzy! You should come with!" Sue suggested excitedly, stopping on her way towards the door to turn and face Aliza. Aliza recoiled a little from her offer, and from her nickname. She'd tried her best to stop it, but Sue's persistence in using that nickname for her had lead to most of her employees calling her "Liz" or "Lizzy" half the time. Oh well, it was better than "Al". Sue went on, "My friends would love to meet you; I've told 'em all about my cool boss!"
"T-that's a really kind offer, but somebody's gotta close up the restaurant." Aliza smiled a little timidly in the face of Sue's offer and compliment, but she ultimately waved her off. "Besides, you wouldn't want an old lady like me around killing your vibe."
"You're in your early twenties! You're supposed to be having fun at your age!" Sue refuted, putting one hand on her hip and using the other to wag a scolding finger at Aliza. "When was the last time you had a night out with some friends?"
"Well..." Aliza glanced to the side, grimacing quietly. She found the tune of Mister Blue Sky by ELO ringing in her memory, she remembered dancing and laughing with an Anarchist on top of a massive scorpion. Her eyes glossed back to her mascot on her menu, and she could still feel cold on her skin and smell ash in the air... "It hasn't been... That, long..."
"I'm lettin' you off the hook this time because you have to close, but this weekend we're hanging out." Sue pointed at Aliza with the same finger she'd used to scold her, not breaking eye contact as she made her way to the door. she pushed it open, before calling back. "And download Tinder already!"
"Boys are scary!" Aliza shouted across her restaurant just before the door shut, and she grumbled after hearing Sue yell "Date girls then!" back through the glass. Aliza sighed loudly once she was alone, once more collapsing forward onto her counter. She folded her arms over one another and laid her head on them, blowing a loose strand of brown hair out of her face while she stared out over her diner. She mumbled under her breath, "Is being antisocial really such a crime..?"
She hated to admit it, but Aliza knew Sue was right. It'd been over four years since she got out of the Underground and got started on this new life, and while she'd made great strides in her business and in her hobbies, her social life was... Bare bones. Any friend she had was also either a coworker or a customer. Well, except for...
Aliza's eyes once more glossed over to that menu laying on the counter, more specifically to her cartoon scorpion mascot. Aliza frowned a little as she lifted her head and pulled that menu a little closer. Had it really already been a year since the last time Anthony showed up on her TV? Errorphim, what an ordeal... She was glad to know that Anthony had worked things out with The Angel and seemingly made a few more friends along the way, it was a relief to know that he'd moved on to a happier way of living.
... She just, wished she could tell him that. That she could tell him that he still had her support, that she was happy for him. It felt like they had both grown up so much since they had that terrifying underground adventure. Aliza knew it was for the best that she was removed from Anthony's crazy life, she knew her safety was the reason that he didn't visit. But, still... It felt like a part of her needed the closure that one more talk and more goodbye would provide.
"... Maybe I really do need to get out more." Aliza said aloud, shutting her eyes while she pushed that menu away from herself. She had a good life here, she understood. It wasn't healthy to waste time wondering about a different life somewhere else. So, maybe she would take Sue up on that offer. "Still not gonna download Tinder though."
Ding dingding!
The ringing of the bell over her front door drew Aliza's attention. She perked up behind her counter, putting on a polite smile while she turned her head towards the person walking into her diner. Whoever they were, they had their hood up and it was keeping most of their features hidden. Maybe it was a cold night?
"Welcome to Aliza's Diner! What can I getcha?"
Chapter 106: Paint It Black
Or: The Good Ol' Days
"Morning! Today's forecast calls for blue skies!"
White eyebrows furrowed groggily as the familiar song that was Mister Blue Sky by ELO started playing through his phone's speaker. Anthony The Anarchist blinked the sleep from his crimson eyes, and once his vision cleared he stared up at the barn ceiling over his head and laid motionless. Winter mornings were a lot nicer out in the barn after Mako talked him into installing that heater and putting in some more insulation.
Anthony let his alarm play while he sat up in his bed, reaching up to push his white hair back out of his eyes. When he looked out the window across his barn attic room he saw that the sky wasn't really blue, but the white snow falling gently out of the light grey clouds still made the world pretty. Anthony took a moment to appreciate the frost just barely on his window and the gentle snow he could see beyond it, before eventually turning and sliding his legs off the side of his bed.
He groaned, stretching his arms up over his head while he stood. His back cracked a few times as he arched it; he was only in his boxers, so the majority of his scars were easy to see. He scratched his lower back once he was done with his stretching, wandering over to the dresser pushed against the back wall of his attic room. He leaned down and pulled open the drawer second to the bottom, pulling out a neatly folded pair of jeans. He'd unfolded it by the time he was standing back to his full height, and he stuck his leg through one pant leg. Then, he stood a little awkwardly on one foot, yanking the other pant leg up his other leg.
Once his jeans were on he opened the top drawer of that dresser, and from within it he fished his belt and a folded up pair of socks. He tossed the socks over onto the foot of his bed before getting started on pulling his belt through his jeans' belt loops. Once that was done, he shut the top drawer and opened the one right below it. His eyes glossed over a few shirts; a black one with red stripes, one with a circled A on its front, and a plain white one. Anthony paused for a moment, staring at those shirts in silent contemplation... Before grabbing the plain white shirt and shutting the drawer.
Anarchy pulled that shirt over his head and rolled it down over his chest and abdomen, immediately reaching up and pulling his mane of ivory hair out from the neck hole next. He shook his head to get his hair back in place while he took a seat on his bedside, reaching over and grabbing those socks. His eyes glossed over to the little table beside his bed while he pulled his socks on. His brows furrowed thoughtfully...
Once his socks were on, Anthony sunk his feet into the work boots he had waiting by his bed. He leaned over, spent a few seconds lacing them up. Once he sat back up, his eyes drifted to that table again. To its single drawer... He frowned as he scooted up his mattress, reaching over and pulling that drawer open begrudgingly. A pill bottle rattled as it rolled to the front of the drawer, pulled forward by the compartment's momentum.
Anarchy's eyes landed on the label wrapped around that bottle, and again he hesitated. The shadow under his bed wiggled, Darkness slithered across the rafters of his barn. His frown sunk deeper into his face, and he shifted his grip on that drawer, preparing to push it back in. Before he did though, his eyes drifted up onto his table. Beside the lamp and his phone, there was a picture frame. And in that frame, there was of course a picture. A screenshot, actually. From the video feed of the fight with Errorphim.
Anthony took a deep breath, his sour expression relaxed while he looked at that picture. Back before Angel lost his wings, he was reaching down and keeping ahold of Anthony's arms while he carried the both of them across the broken sky. Gradually, the corner of Anthony's mouth lifted. He exhaled quietly through his nose, and then he reached down into that drawer and grabbed his pills. He popped open the lid, poured two of his antipsychotics into his hand, brought his hand up to his mouth and swallowed those pills without any water. Then he put the lid back on the bottle, put the bottle back in the drawer, shut the drawer, and leaned forward, propping his elbows up on his knees.
Anthony shut his eyes as he reached up and ran his hands through his hair, breathing another quiet sigh. His shoulders relaxed, a tension eased. And he sat there for another moment without moving a muscle. He listened as the remainder of Mister Blue Sky played, before finally leaning over and shutting off his alarm just before the song could loop. Then, he scooped his phone off the night stand and stood up while he put it in his pocket.
He didn't bother with the ladder, just stepped right off the ledge of his attic room's floor and dropped down to the concrete floor of the barn beneath. His knees didn't bend when he landed, gravity's pull caused him no strain and his impact was not nearly enough to make him stumble. The barn was mostly dark with the both of its large metal doors pulled shut to keep out the snow, but Anthony had an easy time walking over towards the coat rack beside his barn's side door.
He pulled a heavy brown bomber jacket off the rack, felt and appreciated its rougher texture in his hands as he pulled its sleeves over his arms. Once it was on he took a second to make sure the darker brown fleece of the collar was in order. Then, Anthony stuck one hand in one of the coat's front pockets and used the other to grab the doorknob and pull that side door open. He didn't bother with zipping up his jacket, even when the cold air blew back his ivory hair and splattered a few snowflakes on his face.
Anthony took a moment to look out over all the snow that scattered over his lawn while he pulled that door shut behind him. It gathered on the limbs of trees currently leafless; the only green that had withstood the cold came from the rows of pine trees in the distant tree-line. Anthony turned his head then, felt more snowflakes melt against his face while he stared up the driveway and towards the house. Lights were already on in the kitchen, Mako was probably done with breakfast already.
Anthony put his other hand in his pocket, shifted his shoulders forward, and walked unbothered into the chilly winds. Snow crunched under his boots while he made his way across the lawn, leaving his big bootprints in the snow behind him. It wasn't long before he was marching up the steps onto the back porch. When he slid open the door he was greeted by warm air and the smell of a carefully prepared breakfast, and that was enough to put a small smile on his face.
"I was starting to worry you overslept!" Mako joked cheerfully, turning away from the plate she was preparing just to flash Anthony her welcoming smile. Max and Anthony both weren't sure how someone could be so sweet before 8am, but it was something they each appreciated and respected about Mako. Speaking of Max, a quick glance around the kitchen told Anthony that his other roommate was still in bed. That was normal, Max was hardly a morning person.
"I never oversleep." Anthony assured her with a voice still gravely with sleep. He cleared his throat while he pulled out a chair at the head of the kitchen table, plopping down into his seat. Mako made her way to the table with two plates while Anthony pulled his jacket off his shoulders, she'd set the plates on the table by the time he finished draping his coat over the back of his chair. He smiled at her when she pulled out the chair beside him and took a seat. "Thank you."
"No problem!" Mako responded cheerfully, flashing Anthony a smile while she picked up her fork. Anthony didn't say anything else, he just picked up his own silverware and lowered his attention to his food. Mako was okay with that, she knew he was a man of few words and she'd learned that his silence was almost never a bad thing. Still, she couldn't help but want to make small talk. "So, what do you have going on today?"
"Well, therapy and workin' on Angel's house, mostly..." Anthony spoke with a mouth half full of chocolate chip pancakes, not looking up from his plate. He picked at his pancakes after that, cutting another bite off with the side of his fork while he went on absentmindedly. "Oh, and I'm dropping a bunch'a paint cans off at Frisk's."
"Oh! Uh, paint cans?" There was a drop off in Mako's usual cheer, but she tried to hide it. She receded a little back into her chair, arching a brow bone at Anthony and trying to keep a smile on her face. "Why do they need paint?"
"Well, one'a Frisk's problems is that they struggle being an individual. It's why they treat me the way they do; they don't wanna do things for themself, they just want me to tell 'em what to do." Anthony explained after swallowing his mouthful, finally looking back up to Mako. He leaned one elbow on the table, using his other hand in a shrug motion. "I just kinda did a generic color for the inside'a their house; I figure picking out what color they would like every room to be could be a good exercise for them."
"I think it's very kind of you to put that kind of thought into helping them." Mako said with her bittersweet smile, but Anthony only furrowed his brows at her response. She knew he could see she wasn't happy, she was terrible at hiding her emotions. So, her pupils turned to tear drop shapes as they darted to the side, and the smile vanished from her expression. "... I'm sorry. I know that helping Frisk is important to you, and I agree that it's the right thing to do. I just... I know who they want you to be. And it's, hard, to trust them around you."
"..." Anthony was silent when he heard that. He knew it before Mako said it, but it didn't make it any easier to hear. He set his fork back on his plate and he watched his hands fold together on the table while he once again reckoned with the black sea in his soul. Anthony The Killer. Someone that Mako believed was an evil alter-ego and someone that Frisk believed was the real Anthony. In truth, Anthony didn't know which of them were right and he hoped every day that he would never find out. The Anarchist exhaled quietly through his nose, before admitting. "... I wish I had reassuring news, but I don't. It's been a year since they were put away, and Frisk is still... Difficult."
Things were quiet for a long moment. Anthony didn't pick his fork back up, he didn't look up from his folded hands. Not until Mako reached over and laid her own hand over his knuckles. His eyebrows rose with some surprise then, seeing her small and clean hands next to his scarred and calloused ones always felt like a privilege to Anthony. He lifted his head to look at Mako, and he saw that her pupils had regained their usual shape while she smiled at him. "You're a good person, Anthony. No matter what kind of person Frisk is."
Anthony smiled back at Mako, even though his smile didn't hold quite the strength that Mako's did. His scarlet eyes drifted back down to Mako's hand then, and he opened his own hands, taking her warm phalanges into his careful grasp. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves, and then he answered. "... I hope you're right."
"I just wanted to see how you were doing." There was aggravation in Asriel's voice when he said that. He shrugged and shook his head while he looked across the thin veil of shimmering air at Frisk. They had their arms crossed over their chest, their half open eyes glared back across the veil at Asriel. "I don't get why you're being so rude."
"Oh you don't get it?" Frisk rose their eyebrows and tilted their head a little like they were shocked by this revelation. Then, they stepped forward and reached out a finger. Aggressively they tapped that finger on the shimmering air at the edge of their porch. The barrier that separated their house from the top step that Asriel stood on clinked like glass as they poked at it. "You think maybe it's got something to do with me being trapped in glorified zoo encloser?"
"You'd be home by now if you dropped that nasty attitude!" Asriel snapped back, even though he didn't want to. He took a step closer to that glass while his paws clenched into tight fists, specks of color gleamed in his white irises.
"Oh, yeah, that'd be great!" Frisk exclaimed sarcastically, exaggerating a smile and rolling their eyes. "Then I can be a good doggy and sleep at the foot of Angel's bed! Fetch him his slippers and the paper, just like the rest of you!"
"It's not. Like that." Asriel's voice was a low growl, it came out from a bubbling pit somewhere in his chest. His jaw clenched, he swallowed a dozen different mean names that he could have called them and instead took a deep breath through his nose. After some of that anger released, Asriel spoke honestly. "We just... Want you to be happy."
Frisk stepped right up to the glass then. Their teeth grinding, their lips peeled back in a snarl and scarlet fury burned in their DETERMINED eyes. Their voice was a hiss, the kind of warning noise a wild animal gives before it strikes. "Then either release me back into the wild or leave me the fuck alone."
"..." Asriel didn't say anything, not at first. He just stared at Frisk. Took in the way their fangs bared and their eyes trembled. The anger that twisted their entire face. Then, he took a step back from the glass and shook his head. "... You know, I used to think you were the nicest person in the world."
"Yeah, dumbass." Unphased like always, Frisk's furious expression changed to one of cold hatred while they put their hands on their hips. "You thought that because I wanted you to think that."
Asriel's mouth opened, but words didn't come. He just stood there, staring at Frisk and shaking his head slowly. He thought about telling them how disgusted he was by them, he thought maybe they'd want to know how disappointed he was. But, that hope was fleeting. Frisk didn't care, and Asriel knew that. So, he said nothing else. He just turned around, stepped off of those two steps, and walked back down the path that divided Frisk's yard.
Asriel didn't bother looking up at the grass that covered the lawn or the trees that surrounded it. He passed by flower beds and all sorts of things that would look nice through a window without ever lifting his head. He didn't even stop his seething when he heard Anthony walking on the opposite side of the path, likely heading towards the house that Asriel was leaving. Anthony lifted one hand in a polite wave as the distance between himself and the goat prince closed, starting to speak. "Morning, Asri-"
Anthony stopped speaking when Asriel walked right past him, knocking his shoulder into Anthony's along the way. The Anarchist stopped walking after that happened, he paused on the path and in the wake of Asriel's shove. His brows furrowed, and he opened his mouth to ask Asriel just what the fuck that was... Before he shut his eyes and took a deep breath. Asriel disappeared back down the path and towards the portal that would lead him home, and Anthony stuffed his hands in his pockets and got back to walking towards Frisk's house.
"Anthony!" Frisk's voice called out the moment Anthony got within ear shot. The corner of his mouth lifted a little when he saw the way they perked up from the chair they sat in on their front porch, mostly to be polite. Frisk nearly jumped out of their chair while Anthony stepped onto the two stairs that lead onto their porch. They raced over to the barrier surrounding their home to meet him there, speaking hastily. "If I'd known you were coming by I would have gotten dressed!"
Anthony paused on the opposite side of that barrier, he took a moment to look them up and down. It was still early in the morning, and as a result Frisk was still in their pajamas. A pair of blue and purple pajama pants and a black T-shirt with the symbol for anarchy drawn on its front. That shirt was several sizes too big, Anthony suspected they'd stolen it from his room in Gatherer's timeline back before the whole place got obliterated. As a result, the neck hole slipped down over one of Frisk's shoulders. Anthony tried his hand at dismissing their worries, "... You look fine."
"Just fine?" Frisk crossed their arms and pouted at Anarchy, but he didn't bother acknowledging it.
"May I come in?" Anthony gestured to the barrier separating the two of them; it was some marvel of Badster's creation. Apparently it was adjusted to Frisk's code specifically, meaning they were the only one who couldn't pass through it. For everyone else it was just weird looking air, but Frisk's body registered it as an impenetrable wall. Anthony was almost put to sleep when Badster explained how it worked, but Angel was fascinated. Nerd.
"You know you're always welcome here." Frisk assured with a caring smile. They folded their hands in front of themself and didn't hesitate to step aside politely, but all Anthony could think about was how he was the only person welcome here.
"I uh, passed Asriel on the way in." Anthony said as he walked through that wall, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He glanced over to Frisk, who was already stepping ahead to open their front door for him. "He seemed upset."
"Can't imagine why~!" Frisk sang while Anthony wandered past them and into the home he'd helped them build. He shot them a disapproving look while he stepped past them, but it didn't dull their smile. They walked in after him, shutting the door behind themself. Anthony stood in their living room, glancing around at neatly assembled furniture.
Two couches, a bookshelf, some end tables, a coffee table, a flatscreen TV mounted on the wall. He was standing on a nice rug over hard wood floors, and he could see into a kitchen and down a hallway with a bedroom door from where he was standing. There was a bathroom door tucked away in the far corner of the living room. It was a nice house, he'd made sure that it would be. He wanted this to feel like a home and not a prison, but Frisk only ever treated it that way when Anthony was around. Their voice dragged him back to the task at hand. "So, what are you doin' over here so early? Did'ja wake up thinking of me?"
"No." Anthony answered without the slightest emotion, and he watched Frisk immediately frown when he shot them down. He looked to the side after that, pulling one hand out of his pocket and reaching over to an empty corner of the living room. Frisk turned their head in the direction of his outreached hand and arched a brow. They watched as shadows slithered up from the floorboards, forming a blanket of shadow over that portion of the floor. From that blanket, two dozen different cans of paint seeped up to the surface. Once they were all standing in orderly lines those shadows receded back into the floor, leaving behind the organized cans atop a blue tarp. "I wanted to bring you these."
"You, wanted to bring me paint?" Frisk looked more than a little confounded, placing a hand on their hip while they stared with furrowed brows down at those metal cylinders. They rolled the wrist of their other hand while they struggled to find words, but the reason for this gift eluded them. "That's, uhm... Very sweet?"
"It's for the walls." Anthony explained, gesturing out to the room around the both of them. Frisk arched a brow at Anthony, before their eyes followed his gesture out to the plain white that covered their drywall. "I thought it would be good for you to pick what color you want each room to be."
"No need! You already picked the color, remember?" Frisk smiled while they squinted their eyes, hiding any honesty that may have lurked in the crimson orbs beneath. "Walls are fine just like this."
"Well, yeah, but I think it would be better if you decided how the interior of your house looks." Anthony said patiently while he forced a smile that was totally bereft of joy.
"But I don't want to." Frisk didn't hesitate to answer, and their fake smile never faltered. They folded their hands behind their back, and they did not show the red in their eyes.
"..." Anthony paused there, narrowing his eyes irritably at Frisk. His smile melted into a frown before he shut his eyes, taking a deep breath. Then, he opened his honest eyes again, and spoke with a little more care. "... Look, I just... I don't want you to feel like the puppet for some, 'higher power' anymore, okay? I thought this might be a good exercise to help you with your individuality."
"Oh, Anthony..." Frisk's lips curled up into a bittersweet smile, and their eyelids parted just enough for Anthony to see the dark red gleam within. They tilted their head to the side, keeping their hands folded behind their back while they spoke gently. "You're the sweetest puppeteer I've ever had."
"Don't, call me that!" Anthony recoiled immediately, pulling his hands out of his pockets just so he could cringe visibly. He shook his head and turned away, had to take a few steps away from Frisk. They watched him curiously, innocently arching a brow when he looked back over his shoulder at them and exclaimed. "You're a person, not a puppet! You have control over your actions, not me!"
"Anthony. I live in the dollhouse you made me, with the toys you gave me, waiting every second of every day for you to come pick me up and play with me again." Frisk described what sounded like a horrible fate to Anthony, but they did it with a smile. They spoke with love in their tone, taking a few steps closer to The Anarchist's turned back all the while. "You can say this is whatever you want to say this is, but the truth is I'm a toy to you. 'Helping' me is the same to you as any of the little chores you give yourself. And that's okay, because I know your little chores make you happy."
"No, that's not..!" Anthony was turned towards the wall, he couldn't face them. His eyes clenched shut so he wouldn't have to look out at the "dollhouse" he'd made Frisk, he grit his teeth and he clenched his fists in his frustration. In the corners, under the furniture, between the floorboards shadows slithered and wiggled briefly... Before he exhaled slowly and his body relaxed some. His eyes opened, and he stared down at his boots while he forced words out. "... I don't want this to be your life. I want you to be able to go home, I want you to have the life that you want. But I can't trust you not to hurt people."
"Too bad the life I want is a life where I hurt people. Where we hurt people." Frisk's words elicited an exasperated and guilty groan out of Anthony, but that didn't stop them from stepping closer to his turned back. He felt a knot twisting in his stomach at the same time he felt their arms wrap around him. But, he didn't push them away when they hugged him, nor did he pull his hand away when he felt their fingers trailing up his left arm. They lifted his hand in theirs, and Frisk smiled wider while they both watched them intertwin their fingers with his. "But, being your favorite dolly is a pretty good alternative~"
"..." Anthony was quiet. He was quiet for a long time. He just stood there, with Frisk's arm around him and their hand in his. Staring at their fingers and how they intertwined, feeling how his own feelings twisted painfully together inside him. He thought for a long time, Frisk didn't know about what. They were never sure what was on his mind, it was refreshing to them after so many lifetimes of knowing everything about everyone around them. So, when Anthony finally spoke, they were pleasantly surprised. "... Okay, then what if we doubled down?"
"What?" Frisk asked, confused. They turned their head to try and get a better look at Anthony's face, but he didn't look at them. So, they turned their head the other way, and they looked at a mirror on the wall across the room. They stared at the reflection of the two of them together and wondered while Anthony explained.
"If I brought you home with me. If I gave you my future. If you got to see me every minute of every day for the rest of your life." Anthony stared at the wall while he spoke, he hardly looked excited about the words he was saying. He didn't turn his head, didn't want to look at the reflection of them together. "... If I got down on one knee and pulled out a ring right now, would it be enough to get you to play nice again?"
"... Oh, my..." Frisk muttered, more to themself than to Anthony. Their eyes widened, they had to blink a few times. Of course they were jarred; even in all their varied fantasies they'd never imagined one so... Clean. They tilted their head, resting their cheek on Anthony's shoulder while they looked back to their intertwined fingers. Their left ring fingers, right next to one another... Frisk couldn't help but start to smile again. "Are you asking me if I'd give up my revenge to be your house spouse~? It's a good question, lemme think about it..."
Anthony's eyes drifted to the side, further away from their shared reflection. His expression remained stern, but he knew when their hand trailed up his abdomen to his chest that they could feel his heart pounding against their palm. In all the twisting feelings, somewhere within the guilt and the shame and the disgust, there was excitement. There was a thrill. And that's what sickened him most. He hated the feeling of the hairs on the back of his neck rising when Frisk spoke quietly into his ear. "I could cook and clean, fold the laundry, do the dishes, wear a cute little easy-access dress, get stuck bent over in the washing machine...~"
"Frisk." Anthony's irritable voice uttered their name like a warning. His eyes darted back over to them finally, just to glare at them. His glare just made them giggle though, and their fingers squeezed his tighter. They watched him hesitate when he looked them in the eye, it made that lovesick smile grow wider on their face. "... If I gave you everything that you wanted that didn't involve hurting other people, would it be enough?"
"Everything?" Frisk repeated back to him, raising their eyebrows. Anthony could see the excitement gleam in their malicious eyes, he felt their free hand slip off his chest. Their fingers trailed down his abdomen, but he snatched their hand before it could get any lower than his waist.
"... Everything." Anthony confirmed through his hesitation. His eyes narrowed at Frisk, his frown cracked deeper into his stony expression while their smile lifted further up their cheeks. He watched them shut their eyes then, listened to them hum in contemplation while they hugged him tighter. Anthony exhaled quietly, turning his head and looking forward again while he went on. "You're in this situation because of something I did and things that I said, so it's my responsibility to get you back to a normal life. And, if nothing else works... Will that work?"
"You're so dramatic, Anthony. It's cute." Frisk answered as their body relaxed against his, not bothering to open their eyes or lift their head off of where they laid it on his shoulder blade. They spoke with such ease, no truth and no lie that they ever spoke caused them any trouble. Anthony often wondered how that could be, how they could be so unbothered and so unburdened no matter how horrible their words were. "Whatever you want to work will always work, because you're the strongest there is. Whatever future it is that you really want will always happen."
Anthony didn't say a word in response. His eyes glossed over to his left hand wrapped up in Frisk's hand, and then back over to his right hand. It'd been awhile since he last swung his crowbar, but he could still see the blood under his fingernails. He could still feel Darkness slithering under his skin...
"If you want to destroy everything, then everything will be destroyed. If you want me or anyone else by your side we'll be there, and if you want us to disappear then we'll vanish." Frisk's eyes opened slowly, they looked back into that mirror while they spoke. The room was Darker now, lights flickered and dimmed. Under their feet, Frisk's shadow disappeared into the growing pool of Anthony's own shadow. Still, with scarlet gleaming in their eyes, Frisk smiled at their reflection. "Even if you really do just want the world to be peaceful and happy, it will remain that way because that's what you decided. The one thing you can never do is make the world stop revolving around you... Unless you destroy it completely~"
Anthony's wide red eyes stared down into the spiraling depths of his own shadow. He wasn't breathing anymore, didn't actually have to these days. It was all too easy to forget to be human for him, especially in moments like these. He hated what Frisk was saying and he hated that it was true. His muscles tensed, he felt the intense weight of his supermassive soul baring down upon him and he felt that his knees would buckle if he kept pretending he was weak. His fingers curled and clenched without thinking...
Crunch!
"Augh~!" Frisk made a sound halfway between a pained yelped and an excited moan when Anthony's fingers suddenly crushed theirs. The bones in their left hand gave out instantly, their body was glass and paper compared to Anthony's. The feel of their bones breaking in his hand and the noise they made right in his ear was enough to snap The Anarchist back to reality. He spun around to face Frisk when their hug faltered, he fearfully yanked his hand away from theirs and stepped back away from them.
"I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!" Anthony exclaimed, fear and guilt twisting his expression as he watched Frisk grab the wrist of their shattered left hand. He took a careful step towards them, it was like he was afraid they'd turn to dust and crumble away if he breathed on them wrong. But, when he reached out a skeptical hand towards them, Frisk looked up from their broken fingers and flashed him that lovesick smile.
"It's okay, you can hurt me if you want to. You can do anything~" Frisk's voice slithered out through their grin, their words made Anthony stop in his tracks. The fingers on his outstretched hand pulled back, and he grimaced at the sight of a wicked gleam in Frisk's eyes. Red was steaming off of their hand, he could hear their fingers snapping back into place. It was a reminder that Frisk was sturdy. They wouldn't die easy, and something sick inside them might have even liked the pain. They lifted their steaming left hand up to show Anthony, and they grabbed their backwards bent ring finger. They snapped it forward and back into place without so much as wincing. "I promise I can take it~"
"..." Anthony stood there and stared at Frisk for a few long, quiet moments. They made it hard not to think they were a lost cause, they made it hard not to think that he was a lost cause. Gradually, his posture relaxed. One of his arms dropped back to his side, and he used the other to reach up and rub his tired eyelids. He thought about asking them not to say things like that, or apologizing again for causing them pain, but ultimately decided he wanted to abandon this conversation entirely. His hand ran off of his face, and by the time he opened his eyes and looked at Frisk again they had folded their hands behind their back and had an innocent smile on their face.
"... Just, look at the paint, alright? For me?" Anthony lowered his head some while he asked, he looked at them from under the shadow of his eyebrows. Frisk frowned at that, but they didn't object as he turned back towards the door. Anthony grumbled silently, shaking his head while he walked away. Before he reached the door he added on, "Decide on some colors that you like, and I'll be back later tonight to talk to you about it."
"Fiiiinnne, if it's for you." Frisk rolled their eyes, crossing their arms over their chest while Anthony opened their front door again. He glanced back over his shoulder at them before he shut the door, and even though they were pouting they felt compelled to glance back to Anthony and meet his gaze. He tried his best to force a smile when they looked at him, but it was really more an awkward baring of his pointed teeth than anything. Frisk couldn't help but smile a little though, if only because of how bad Anthony was at being polite.
The door shut between the two of them, and Frisk's eyes glossed over to the paint cans Anthony had left behind. The smile washed from their face, and their eyes disappeared back behind their eyelids.
Anthony pushed his hands deeper into his jacket pockets. He'd put on a light weight grey sweatshirt underneath his coat and pulled the hood up. Within that hood he hid his white mane of hair as best he could. He kept his head low as his boots thumped up stone steps, even turned his face away when some deer girl came down the wide staircase he was going up.
The steps lead up to a large building with double glass doors. There were a few things written on the glass, names and phone numbers. Information Anthony already had. He pushed the doors open and continued his brisk pace into a lobby. Past a receptionist that he merely lifted a hand to wave to without looking at, all the way to an elevator at the far end of the room. He pushed the button to go up, stood there facing the wall uncomfortably until the elevator doors opened, and then hastily shuffled into the elevator and hit the close door button. He hit the button for his desired floor next, and then stood there and glanced around impatiently while the elevator carried him higher into the building.
To Anthony's dismay, however, the elevator stopped just two floors before his exit. The doors parted, and he slinked back into the furthest corner of the little metal box and sunk as deep into his coat as he could as some AU Alphys forced a polite smile upon him and then stepped into the elevator. They made it up one floor in silence, but Anthony glanced briefly over to her before they reached his floor. When he did, her reptile eyes caught his glowing red stare. She saw a lock of his long white hair peaking out from his hood, she saw how pale his skin was.
The elevator doors opened, and Anthony The Anarchist hastily shuffled out of that elevator, leaving behind an Alphys gripped tight by silent terror. He shook his head while the elevator closed behind him and continued lifting, trying his best to forget the sound of her sudden gasp and the way fear so rapidly twisted her expression. These things were par for the course whenever he had to walk the streets of The Omega Timeline, Anthony tried not to let it get to him.
He made his way down a carpeted hallway, past several numbered doors before finally reaching one and coming to a stop. He pulled a hand out of his pocket and glanced around the empty hallway while he knocked. A moment later the doorknob turned, and Anthony lifted his head some to look up from under his eyebrows at the Monster that opened the door for him. She was cartoony, just like a lotta Monsters. A grizzly bear woman wearing a blazer and a skirt, she kinda reminded Anthony of the Berenstain Bears. She smiled with the utmost kindness, stepping aside and gesturing into her office while she held open the door. "Ah, Anthony! It's good to see you again."
"Good to see you too, Therapy Bear." Anthony's words were nice, but his tone was this disgruntled grumble. He wandered past his therapist and right over to the large leather chair across from her own chair. He plopped down into his seat and slouched while Therapy Bear pulled the door closed. Only after the door was closed did he pull his hood down and relax a little more into his chair.
"How's your day been going so far?" Therapy Bear asked as she made her way over to her chair. It was a rollie computer chair, seated by a desk with a computer on it. There were some spreadsheets open on the screen, probably stuff to do with her patients. Maybe something to do with Anthony, he didn't care. She turned her chair to face him and held her clipboard in her off hand, watching and waiting politely for Anthony's answer.
"Complete shit." Anthony groaned, rolling his eyes. He stared out the window so he wouldn't have to see Therapy Bear raise her eyebrows and look concerned after he said that. He stared out at the buildings and the city below, it was sunnier than he was used to a city being. Everything was always so nice and perfect in The Omega. He sighed after a moment, shutting his eyes and reeling in his irritation. "... No, that's not true. Mako made me breakfast, and that was really nice. So, not complete shit."
"It's important to remember the nice things and not let just one or two bad things ruin a day." Therapy Bear smiled gently while she responded. She set her clipboard in her lap and folded her paws over it while she asked. "What happened that made you say your day's been shit?"
"Well, some Alphys recognized me on the way in and about had a heart attack, for one." Anthony's eyes glossed back over to his therapist, narrowing with exasperation while he frowned. He rolled his eyes then, leaning his head back against the cushion of his chair and looking up at the ceiling tiles while he went on. "... But, the main thing was this conversation I had with Frisk. I stopped by to drop something off for them, and... They made it weird."
"Seems they have a habit of doing that." Therapy Bear commented while she picked up her clipboard, and Anthony nodded.
"They were, holding onto my hand while they said all this screwed up stuff. I got so shaken up about it that I wasn't thinking, and... I accidentally crushed their hand." Anthony's eyes glossed away from the ceiling and instead over to a potted plant in the corner. He frowned deeper; the dumb plant just reminded him of the goat boy that shoved past him this morning. "It healed in a few seconds and they were hardly mad about it, but... It's, been awhile since I felt bones break in my hand. Was kinda hoping I'd never feel it again."
"Accidents happen to everyone." Therapy Bear assured Anthony gently, but he shook his head and sat up, looking back across the small room to her.
"But not everyone's 'accident' means somebody dies." Anthony's scarlet eyes narrowed, his glare shined red while the lamp on Therapy Bear's desk flickered and dimmed briefly. "If I'd done that to Mako she would have turned to dust. I have to be more careful."
Therapy Bear didn't say anything, she just nodded her head. She picked up her pen, and hastily scribbled a few things on the paper of her clipboard. Then, she lifted her head back to Anthony and asked. "Are you still taking your medication?"
"Begrudgingly." Anthony grumbled through his frown. He leaned forward in his chair now, resting his elbows on his knees and looking over and out the window. "Every morning, some part of me tries to convince the rest'a me that I don't need the meds anymore."
"Do you think that's because you don't think you need the medication anymore, or do you think it's because some part of you still believes you don't deserve your peaceful life and is trying to self-sabotage?" Therapy Bear folded her paws together over her lap and tilted her head a little while she asked that question. Anthony scoffed, sinking back into his seat and folding his own hands together over his abdomen.
"... Well, I mean, I don't." Anthony looked back to Therapy Bear, shrugging his shoulders lazily against his chair. He frowned and shook his head, before going on. "Everything's nice and peaceful now, and there's a whole lotta people who will never get to see it because'a me. But I'm still here. Enjoying the life that they don't get to have."
"Being cruel to yourself isn't going to bring them back." Therapy Bear stated the obvious, but sometimes the obvious needed to be stated.
"It's not about bringin' 'em back. I mean, fuck, do you have any idea how many talking bears I've probably killed?" Anthony pulled himself forward, slouching onto his elbows and raising his eyebrows at Therapy Bear. There was a short pause, and then he spoke before she could answer. "Because I don't. Could have been zero, could have been a billion - I have no idea because I don't remember any of those poor dead fucks."
"Y'know, I see movies where there's some imprisoned murderer or some war veteran and they talk about how they "can't forget their victims faces" or how they "see them in their dreams or even when they close their eyes" and I think "Man, that'd be great!"" Anthony sat up then, throwing up his arms to showcase his vexation. After that, he slouched back into his chair and shook his head. "But I don't remember most'a their faces. I don't remember what their screams sounded like or how they tried to escape me. I go home, and I put my head down, and I sleep easy because I'm not actually bothered by all the blood on my hands."
"... Some would say that's a blessing." Therapy Bear spoke quietly, furrowing her brows with concern and frowning knowingly.
"Well I say it's not fair. There's people out there spendin' holidays alone, losin' money on tombstone flowers and wakin' up in a cold sweat after a nightmare with me in it." Anthony narrowed his angry scarlet eyes. His hands were folded together, his fingers gripped each other with a strength that would shatter a lesser man's hand. He glanced to the side after a moment, grumbling under his breath. "Least I could do is feel shitty too..."
"Everyone processes negative emotions differently. Just because those people aren't ghosts haunting you doesn't mean that you're at peace with what you did." Therapy Bear leaned forward some in her chair, keeping her hands folded together in her lap. Anthony looked back to her skeptically from the corner of his eye, listening as she went on. "You wouldn't be here if you weren't troubled by your past actions."
"... I guess, I just..." Anthony sunk back into his chair again. He looked at his hands while they relaxed, he was still certain blood was crusted under his fingernails and in the wrinkles of his palms. He took a deep breath. "... I'm afraid that one night I'm gonna put my head down, and when I wake up in the morning I'm not gonna feel this way anymore. I'm afraid that this isn't the real me, and that when I get back to being who I really am these good times are gonna be gone for good."
A heavy silence followed those words. Anthony stared at his bloody hands while he listened to Therapy Bear scribble a few more hasty notes. It was okay if she took her time responding, he knew he was a handful patient even for someone like her who specialized in reformed multiverse wackjobs. He just wanted this to be over with so he could go hammer nails in peace...
The whir of saw blades was a soothing noise to Anthony, far more pleasant than the tough words of people like Frisk and Therapy Bear and Mako and even himself. He drew lines across planks of wood with a pencil that was wide and flat, and then he pushed that wood under the spinning saw blade mounted at the edge of his work bench and cut across the line he'd drawn. With his hands busy, the morning was a little easier to forget.
Anthony The Anarchist was standing on a flat plot of land towards the end of a street in Ebott City. His coat was hung up behind him on a support beam that didn't yet have anything to support, he didn't need it in Angel's timeline. It was Summer here and Winter at home, a lotta timelines were weird and on uneven times like that. Something about Frisks playing with time and making it flow weird and unevenly across timelines. That meant it was bright and sunny in Angel's life while it was cold and snowy in Anthony's.
Anthony liked the cold and dark though, its what he was born into. But, the pleasant breeze and the clear sky here was hard to dislike. It was still strange for Anthony, being out in the open like this. There was a paved road ahead of him, cars drove by here and there. Monsters and even the occasional human walked by on the sidewalk across the road from the plot of land where he worked on that skeleton of a house. Few walked on the sidewalk directly in front of him, but that was alright. In the distance, the flat peak of Mount Ebott was an ever-present reminder of how dangerous he was. It was amazing that the people of this city didn't huddle in their basements every time he was here.
Anthony finished slicing through those planks and shut the saw off, setting the now resized piece of wood aside. He slapped his hands together a few times to knock sawdust off his skin, and he smiled quietly at his handiwork. There was a bird sitting in one of the trees at the back of the property he stood on, it was singing pleasantly. Maybe today wasn't so crummy, after all.
When Anthony looked up from his work bench though, his eyebrows rose in surprise. There, ahead of him at the edge of the near sidewalk, a monster child was standing up straight, stiff as the boards he'd just finished cutting. He was humanoid, but any exposed skin he had was covered in black hairs. He had these big pointy ears sticking outta the sides of his head too; was he some kinda bat? He had these big circular glasses on his face that made his wide scaredy-bat eyes look even bigger. He didn't say a single word, just looked at Anthony like he would faint if The Anarchist made any sudden moves. So, Anthony stood still.
The Anarchist stood there, arching a brow at that boy while that bird chirped in the distance. Then, after a moment, his eyes lifted past the boy. Across the street, to the tree that two other Monster children were peaking out from behind. A blue kid with a fin on his head and gills on his neck and one that had six bug eyes and these two antennas sticking out the top of his head. They were snickering to each other until Anthony saw them and they immediately jumped back behind their hiding spot. Anthony's eyes narrowed thoughtfully, and then he looked back to the trembling child standing in front of him. He made sure his voice was calm and quiet when he asked, "... Those two over there friends of yours?"
The bat boy jumped a little when he heard Anthony talk, but then he relaxed some. Maybe he'd expected The Anarchist's voice to be a little more intense. Regardless, it took him a moment, but he managed to hastily shake his head 'no'. That made Anthony frown a little, and he asked another careful question. "Did they make ya come over here?"
The bat kid looked away, his big eyes narrowed shamefully. Then, he nodded his head 'yes'. Anthony nodded his head when he received that message. He pursed his lips, and he grumbled in thought. He eyes drifted down to his hands, he examined the scars left on his knuckles by sticks and stones. Then, he lifted his eyes back to the bat boy. The corner of his mouth rose, and he leaned forward onto his palms on his work bench. The bat boy arched a skeptical brow, before Anthony asked.
"... Ya wanna prank 'em?"
"Do you think he saw us?" The bug boy asked his fish friend while the two of them pressed their backs to that tree. His antenna were standing up straight, trying to detect anything spooky or scary getting closer and finding nothing. Before the fish boy could respond though, the bat kid peaked his head around the side of their tree and made the both of them jump six feet into the air. They screamed in unison, "AAAAHHHH!"
"What? It's just me." The bat boy flashed an innocent smile, folding his hands behind his back. It took all he had not to laugh at the two of them gasping and shaking just from his little surprise. He waved a hand dismissively, "It wasn't even that scary! He's actually really nice."
"W-wha-? Yeah, right!" Fish kid responded after getting his bearings, pointing an accusatory finger at his bat classmate. "H-he probably just didn't even see you!"
"Yeah, you're probably just so weak that you like, don't even exist to him!" Bug boy coped, nervous sweat running down his face.
"Well, I guess. Maybe you guys are ri-..." The bat kid paused in the middle of his expression, suddenly putting a hand over his stomach and making a sour expression. The two boys in front of him paused dramatically, each one tilting their head and watching carefully. Bat boy gulped loudly, like he was trying to keep something down. He placed both hands on his stomach... And then he gagged. Quietly, at first. But, quickly, it escalated to full on dry heaving.
The two misbehaving children watched as their classmate stumbled, turning to the side and doubling over while he held his stomach. They stared, eyes wide and mouths agape in silent horror as the bat boy gagged and dry heaved... Before suddenly straightening his back, throwing his head back, opening his mouth, and puking up a big scary worm!
"AAAAAAHHHHHH!" The bug and the fish jumped into each others arms, tears streamed down their pale faces as that Dark worm reached high into the air from the mouth of their classmate. It's sharp teeth jumped with hysterical giggling, and the horrible noise of it was enough to convince both boys to turn with their non-existent tails tucked between their legs and sprint down the sidewalk as fast as they could, screaming and crying all the way into the distance.
As soon as those kids were gone, the young bat Monster started laughing. He turned his head to watch them go, revealing that the worm had merely sprung out of the collar of his shirt and reached up past the side of his head, giving the illusion that it had shot up out of his mouth. It hopped down off his shoulder while he laughed, and when he looked back to it and saw it smiling up at him with its big sharp teeth he didn't think it was all that scary anymore.
He smiled back at the worm, and it nodded its head, turning around and disappearing into the shade of the tree behind it. After it was gone, the former scaredy-bat turned his body and looked back across the street. There, he saw Anthony The Anarchist standing at the edge of his jobsite, smiling with his arms crossed over his chest. The bat boy grinned so big he had to shut his big ol' eyes, and he lifted his hand and gave The Anarchist a thumbs up to confirm the mission as a success. Anthony uncrossed his arms just to return that thumbs up, and he smiled just wide enough for some of his pointy teeth to be revealed on accident. The sight of his fangs did nothing to deter the bat kid's smile, though.
Anthony watched that kid turn in the opposite direction his frightened classmates had scurried and continue on his way home with a lot more pep in his step. The smile never left Anny's face as he watched the kid disappear down the street, at least not until I spoke up from behind him. "You traumatizing the youth without me?"
"Agh!" Anny jumped about ten feet in the air when I startled him, and by the time he landed and spun around to face me he had this light pink shade on his pale face. I put a hand in the pocket of my basketball shorts, smirking as I leaned my weight onto the cane in my opposite hand. My shirt was an old classic, black with red stripes. With just a t-shirt and basketball shorts on though, the medical tape wrapped around the knee on the same side as my cane and the red and green cracks on my left and right arm respectively were plenty apparent. Still, Anny had no problem pointing a furious finger at my crippled ass. "Angel! Scare me like that again and I'll shave even more off'a that mountain!"
"Technically I'm the one who leveled Ebott's Peak, a-thank'ya very much." I corrected Anny with a smirk that only grew when he glared at me. I turned towards the house skeleton then, pushing off my cane and taking a few steps deeper onto my property. It wasn't the easiest terrain to move around on, without any grass on the dirt and with the small rocks mixed in here and there it made it harder for my cane to stay steady. I stopped in front of the household framework, looking over it while I asked. "How's she comin' along?"
"She'd come along faster if you let me work overnight, too." Anthony stepped up beside me, looking over the same wooden beams that I did and putting his hands on his hips.
"Can't imagine my future neighbors will like it too much if they're kept up all night by your power tools." I glanced over to Anny with a knowing look and he rolled his eyes. I turned more towards him then, setting both my hands over my cane and pressing it into the dirt in front of me. "And it'd also go faster if you let other people help you with it."
"Angel, your mountain is blown up because'a me. You wasted three years of your life because'a me. You got two glow in the dark arms and a bum knee because'a me." Anny turned towards me and frowned, narrowing his exasperated scarlet eyes. He rose his eyebrows then, lifting one hand and gesturing out to the soon-to-be house before us. "Let me build you a house? Please?"
"Anny, I get to live the rest of my life because of you." I rose my own eyebrows at my brother while I gave him an apparently needed reminder, leaning forward some. He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, turning his head away from me. The corner of his mouth pulled down and revealed one of his sharp lower canine teeth in an irritated scowl. I paused, but inevitably breathed a resigned sigh and relented. "... But, alright, I get it. Nobody gets feelin' guilty better than I do. If you wanna gift me n' Chara an entire house from scratch I'll let ya. Just, be sure not to go too hard on yourself, alright?"
I could see it on his face how bad Anny wanted to say something like "I'm Anarchy, I'll be fine." But, he shut his eyes and breathed a relieved sigh instead. He probably knew I wouldn't buy his tough guy act, so he put the wall down and I appreciated it. He flashed a smile that was only a little exasperated and said instead, "Thank you."
I smiled and opened my mouth to respond, but before I could muffled music cut me off. It took me a sec, but soon enough I recognized the opening of Mister Blue Sky playing from Anthony's pocket. He furrowed his brows right with me, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his cellphone. I smirked a little playfully, "That's your ring tone?"
"It's my favorite song." Anny answered with a shameless smirk, before looking to his phone screen and arching a brow. "Fuck's Chara callin' me for?"
"Maybe they wanna ask you to change your ringtone so we don't get copyright struck?" I hazarded a guess, pulling one hand off my cane to shrug.
"Angel if I have to hear your 'we live in a fan work' theory one more time I'm gonna go ballistic." Anny warned me, before sliding his finger across his phone screen and answering the call. He hit the speaker button and held the phone out between us before speaking. "Ya hit the wrong contact, sidekick. 'Angel' should be one up from 'Anthony'."
"I have you listed in my contacts as 'Sunburnt Dahmer'." Chara's deadpan tone answered, and my eyes went wide while I snerked, trying to withhold a burst of laughter. Anthony's eyes lifted from his phone to me and he smiled without even a pinch of joy. Chara spoke again through the phone speaker, "I've got two terrified children here saying you made their friend puke up a worm. You know anything about that?"
Immediately Anthony and I looked at each other and burst into hysterical laughter. I leaned onto my cane while Anny doubled over and put a hand on his knee to keep himself from tumbling to the ground. We laughed for a few long moments, before Anny sighed loudly and wiped a tear from his eye. He explained while I was still giggling, "Yeah, tell 'em that their friend was too strong for The Dark to have any effect on him. And make sure they know that if they don't start being nicer, next time they'll be the ones puking up bugs."
"You boys get all that?" We heard Chara ask the two children; were we also on speaker on their end? There was a very quick pause before they spoke again. "I think they get it. Run it by one of us before you decide to terrify a child again, alright?"
"Angel had every opportunity to stop me." Anny threw me under the bus, and I gave him a playful shove while I heard Chara scoff with amusement on the other end.
"Then I'll have to have a talk with him later." Chara said, and Anny and I could both hear those kids going "Ooooooooooh!" in the background. I rolled my eyes with a slight smile, and Chara went on. "I'm gonna walk them both home. You two nimrods stay outta trouble and I'll talk to you later."
*Click...
"My in-laws are shit." Anthony stated totally deadpan while he locked his phone and slipped it back into his pocket, succeeding in making me laugh some more.
"You ain't in-laws yet." I waved a hand dismissively while I finished my laughing. I shook my head with a light smile, glancing back over to the house-in-the-making beside the two of us.
"Yeah, what's up with that? You worried about havin' to pick between me n' Monster Kid for best man?" Anny stuffed his hands in his pockets and cocked a brow at me, smirking just a little at his own teasing. He frowned knowingly immediately after though, going on to say. "Go with the lizard. I will ruin that wedding if you put a microphone in my hand."
"Yeah, I already figured that much." I snerked, glancing back over to Anny. I stood up straight after that, holding one fist under my chin like I was holding an invisible microphone. I put on my best Anthony impression and went on to say, "'Yeah so uh, Angel can hit pretty hard. He killed god, that was cool. And Chara chopped my head off once. So uh. Ahem. Thanks for inviting me, n' stuff. Sorry about kissing Frisk.'"
"... I would never. Say you hit hard." Anthony rose his eyebrows at me and stated after a long pause, and then the both of us stood there giving one another a look... Before snerking. I turned my head away from him while I chuckled, and he looked down and shook his head while he tried to stifle his own snickering. Things went on like that for a minute or two, before our laughter died down and we each breathed a quiet sigh. Another few birds had landed on that tree, they were all singing about something. A warm Summer breeze blew by, there wasn't a cloud in sight. The both of us turned our heads to that wide open sky, and we must've been thinking the same thing, because Anthony said something kinda wistful. "These are the good ol' days, Angel."
I turned my head and arched a brow at Anny; wasn't quite sure I got what he was saying. I liked the way it sounded though, even if it didn't make the most sense to me. So, I didn't question it. I just nodded, smiled, and looked back to the blue sky. Anny was right about one thing; these days were good.
... Suddenly though, as we enjoyed the pleasant quiet and while I considered askin' Anny if he wanted to stick around for dinner at the Dreemurr house, his shadow stretched out in front of us. I arched a confused brow over at that brother'a mine, but he looked confused too. We only had a split second to wonder before a worm burst out of that sheet of Darkness. I exclaimed my surprise while I recoiled, "Whoa! What's goin' on?"
Anny didn't speak, not at first. His eyes were wide, there was intensity in his scarlet irises. That worm flailed and wiggled like it was actively trying to convey its frantic mood, but Anny didn't move. He just watched for a moment, before asking in a voice that was deep with Darkness. "... What are you doing?"
"Diner..!" The worm's jaws parted, I grimaced at the sound of its strange hissing voice. I wasn't sure I'd ever heard the beasts do anything more than laugh, I didn't even know The Dark could communicate with words. My eyes snapped open wide when I heard its next hiss though. "Aliza!"
Anny's eyes went wide. His pupils shrunk, and his face managed to get even more pale. I opened my mouth to get something out, but all my words tangled together and no sound came. It was too sudden, I didn't know whether to express confusion concern or support. Anny was urgent though, his lips peeled back in a snarl and he barked an order before I could object. "PORTAL! NOW!"
That worm jumped for fear of its master's wrath, before immediately diving back into that stretched shadow. As soon as it was gone, that shadow deepened. It Darkened, it shifted and rippled like water. And I stepped towards Anthony, reached out the KIND glow of my cracked right hand towards him... Only for him to dart forward and dive into his own shadow. He was gone in an instant, and his Darkness immediately disappeared behind him. "Anny, wait-!"
My hand hung in empty air, I was left staring at dirt. Then, the bright light dimmed. A cloud passed by the sun, blotted out its shine for a moment. A shadow fell over me. My KINDNESS cracked fingers clenched into a fist, and I turned my head away from the ground where that portal had just been.
"Fuck!"
A dark corner at the far side of Aliza's Diner rippled and shifted before Anthony The Anarchist's boot came out of The Dark and planted itself on the tile. He pulled his body out of the shadows and immediately his frantic eyes were darting left and right. He didn't like what he saw. The lights were out, apart from a few sparking wires that dangled down from shattered ceiling lights. Glass shards littered the tile floor, one look at the front windows revealed that they'd been broken apart.
"... Oh, no. No no no no no no." Anthony's wide, horrified eyes glossed slowly over the devastation. From the busted windows to the overturned chairs and broken tables to the toppled bar stools. His breathing was gradually getting faster but the deafening silence blocked out his increasing pulse in his ears. He forced one foot forward, stepped on one of the menus scattered on the floor. His boot left a print right over that cutesy cartoon scorpion mascot.
"Aliza?! Aliza!" Anthony shouted out into the silence while he stepped over a bar stool laying on its side. He examined the undersides of booth tables, he hoped to see those FEARFUL eyes staring back at him from underneath one of them but he found nothing. He continued to take careful steps, and when he rounded the front counter and looked into the kitchen beyond a dark doorway he shouted out again. "It's me, it's Anthony! You can come out, I'm here to help!"
But nobody came. Anthony's eyes glossed over to a small box TV sitting on the counter. Its screen was shattered and its busted backlights sparked and hissed. He grimaced and shook his head, before looking back to the doorway he was wandering through. His left hand opened, his fingers tensed... Before begrudgingly trembling their way back into a closed fist. His crowbar stayed put away. He held onto hope that he wouldn't need it.
Anthony's lips remained parted in a display of his soundless horror. His shrunken pupils glossed over overturned pots and pans, a shattered oven door. He jumped when his foot hit a pile of wayward silverware and made them all clank and clink as they scattered across a floor that still had water splashed onto it from a busted sink. The pipes hissed and the water dripped, The Darkness slithered and squirmed...
Anthony made it to the back end of the kitchen, and his heart paused momentarily in his chest when his eyes landed on a butcher's cleaver. An old one, still stained with a speck or two of dust. He recognized it, even all these years later. The top corner of its blade was stuck in the cracked tile of the floor, leaving it standing up and allowing the blood stained on its handle to slither in weak streams down onto its blade and drip to the floor.
"... This... This isn't, this shouldn't have..." Anthony muttered into the writhing Darkness, taking another step towards that cleaver. His eyes narrowed painfully, and he gradually lowered down onto one knee. His scarred hand reached slowly, shakily towards Aliza's abandoned weapon... "You were supposed to be safe without me around..."
Anthony's fingers nearly touched that handle, but then he heard another drop of blood fall from it and splatter to the floor, and his fingers curled back into a tight fist. He swallowed silently, before turning his head. He looked across the narrow passage of the ransacked kitchen, and his eyes once more widened when they landed on the far wall. The only barren wall of the kitchen, and its white tiles had been defaced. Anthony's pupils shrunk, they trembled in his eyes. His lips gradually peeled back, and his fangs ground together. His long white hair bristled and pointed, his clenched fists trembled. Because there, on the far wall of Aliza's destroyed kitchen, scribbled in scarlet, someone had drawn an uppercase A and hastily circled it. The symbol for anarchy. The symbol for his bloodline. His symbol.
The world stopped. Nothing moved, no light shined. The only sound left was the unstoppable heart of The Anarchist, pounding furiously against his sternum. That, and the sound of blood dripping off that cleaver and hitting the floor. Then, the moment passed, and twin worms sprouted up out of Anarchy's shadow. They loomed there, frowns on their toothy faces while they awaited their master's order. They didn't have to wait long.
"... Find Aliza and get her home safely. Then, find whoever did this..." Anarchy's head lowered, he planted a hand on his knee and pushed himself to his feet. A light just above his symbol painted on the wall flickered and flashed before going Dark again. With his head lowered, his hair had cast pitch black shadows over his eyes. But, when that light flickered again, those shadows lifted momentarily. When they did, his pitch black irises were revealed.
"And bring them to me."
Anthony grumbled cuss words all the way up that stone path to Frisk's house. The day had officially tilted from "Good with a dark spot or two" into "a complete fuckin' nightmare" . He'd wanted to spend the night sprinting through Aliza's timeline holding people up by the ankles and shaking them until they gave him useful information, but Angel talked him out of it. Besides, his shadows were on it. There was Darkness everywhere. It was only a matter of time until one of his worms reported back to him, but...
... But if that was gonna work, why didn't The Dark know what happened in the diner? He had multiple worms stationed to keep an eye on Aliza, his Darkness had been looking over her for four fuckin' years now without any issue! So what happened? It's not like his shadows went on coffee breaks! How did The Dark have no idea what happened? The job was simple: jump out and eat anyone who ever tries to hurt Aliza! The Dark had laid down a billion bodies to fulfil Anarchy's orders, it'd never let him down before! So why now? Why her?!
Anthony put a hand over his forehead and rubbed his eyebrows with his index finger and thumb. He clenched his crimson eyes shut and shook his head while he stomped up Frisk's front steps. He wanted to go ballistic, but who would he snap on? Whoever was responsible for this had skipped town after they left his fuckin' symbol painted on the wall! He wanted to rip the perpetrator limb from limb, but he had to find the asshole first!
"Okay, okay! Relax!" Anthony snarled to himself, smacking his palm on the side of his head and clenching his eyes shut again. He was standing in front of Frisk's front door now, hadn't bothered calling out and asking if he was allowed past the barrier. He took a deep breath and shook his head, continuing to scold himself. "Freaking out won't fix it. Just, focus on your work. It's gonna get solved. Aliza's gonna be alright..."
He stood there for a moment longer, taking deep breaths and holding his head in one hand. Finally, when his angry thoughts subsided and his blood lowered to simmer instead of a boil, he reached out and grabbed the door knob. Maybe helping Frisk with picking out paints would help him relax. He hoped, as he turned the knob and started to push the door open, that they were in a better mood than the one they'd been in this morning.
"Frisk? I'm back." Anthony called out into the house, leaning in the doorway with his hand still on the knob. He cocked an eyebrow into the dark living room, usually there was at least a lamp on or something. Maybe Frisk went to bed early? Anthony started speaking again as he reached over towards the light switch beside the door. "You manage to narrow it down at all with theeeeee-... Ah shit."
Anthony flipped on the light switch and immediately grimaced at what he saw. Across the floors and over all four of the walls, paint had been thrown and smeared. Overturned cans laid still dripping with what little paint remained in them. It was a mess of colors, an aimless display of raw emotion that Anthony might've appreciated if he was a little artsier. He took one skeptical step into Frisk's home, wincing as he inhaled the overwhelming paint smell. Gallons of color, dumped and thrown and splattered... Anthony looked across the room and spotted Frisk sitting nude, curled up into a little ball. Their bare skin was splattered with dried paint. They hid their face in their knees, which their arms were wrapped tight around. Quietly Anthony shut the door behind himself, before asking delicately. "... Do you, like it like this..?"
"... I don't know..." Frisk's voice was small, barely above a whisper. They lifted their head just a little, but they didn't look at Anthony. They didn't look at their surroundings. They just stared at their own body, stained and colored in ways they didn't know how to feel about.
"..." Anthony stood there for a moment, staring at Frisk with guilt and pity in his eyes. Finally though, he took a few careful steps forward. Around puddles of paint, all the way across the room. He leaned down once he reached Frisk, setting his hand on their shoulder and speaking with care. "... C'mon. I'll help you into the shower."
"... I-I'm sorry. I really did try to decide which colors I liked, but..." Frisk's voice was quiet and shaky as Anthony carefully helped them back onto their feet. He turned his head away from them, gave them as much privacy as he could what with their only 'clothing' being the occasional paint stain. They mumbled on, "I couldn't decide if... I wasn't sure what..."
"Hey, it's okay. I'm not mad." Once Frisk was standing, Anthony put an arm around them, gently rubbing their back with his rough hand. They folded their arms up between themself and him, leaning their head forward and resting their forehead against his chest while he hugged them carefully. "Lets get you in the shower, and then I'll get this cleaned up. I'm sure my worms can, get the paint out somehow. And if not them, Gaster can probably do something about it."
"Okay..." Frisk answered meekly, and Anthony breathed a quiet sigh. He shifted his arm to be around their shoulders, and he carefully lead them across the paint smeared floor towards the bathroom at the living room's corner. They passed that mirror on the wall; it was totally covered by red. Any reflection was completely blocked out.
"... I'm sorry." Anthony found the strength to say after a pause. He kept his head turned away from Frisk, only able to see the bathroom he was leading them towards from his eye's corner. He frowned, and his eyes narrowed thoughtfully while he apologized. "I didn't realize... It was too much, I'm sorry. I should have known better than to throw something like that onto you out of nowhere. Next time I'll be more considerate."
Frisk didn't say anything. They just stared ahead, not even bothering to squint their eyes. They didn't have to, they were with Anthony. Eventually the two of them reached the bathroom, and Anthony was staring at the ceiling while he helped them step over the porcelain ledge and into their shower. Somewhere in this process, Frisk admitted something that they had learned about themself. "... I think I like the hurt better when it's on the outside."
"..." Anthony was quiet, even though he wanted to say "Me too." Instead, he lowered his head and looked Frisk in the eye with a painful understanding in his expression. This look did nothing to dull their frown and added no life to their lightless eyes. Anthony nodded quietly, before lifting his heavy hand and pointing over his shoulder with his thumb. "... I'm gonna, go grab you some clothes, alright?"
Frisk's lips finally lifted, just a little. They seemed put at ease, Anthony wondered if they feared making their own decision on what clothes to wear after the day they'd had. He feared this was more a hit to their progress than a step in the right direction, but he was relieved all the same when Frisk managed a tiny smile and a weak nod of their head. He turned around, and they pulled the shower curtain shut between them.
Anthony wandered carefully back into the painted living room while he heard the shower start back in the bathroom. He stopped first at a small closet beside the bathroom and opened it up, grabbing a plain towel. Then he shut that closet and he wandered off towards Frisk's bedroom. He didn't hesitate to open their room door, didn't feel uncomfortable stepping onto that carpet or even opening the drawers of their dresser.
It was somewhere in the middle of opening the correct drawers and grabbing a fresh set of clothes for Frisk that it dawned on Anthony how strange it was that he knew where exactly they kept their clothes. How he should have had more trouble figuring out where their towels were, how he shouldn't have known that their pants were in the drawer second to the bottom. He shouldn't have known their shirts were in the drawer second from the top, and he certainly shouldn't have known their socks and underwear were in the very top drawer. But he did, because those were the exact drawers he kept his clothes in.
"... Jesus Christ..." Anthony muttered after shutting that top drawer, leaving Frisk's towel and pile of clothes sitting atop the dresser. He leaned his elbows on the wood, he reached up and ran both hands through his hair. He peaked his eyes open to look at his reflection in the mirror, and he gave himself the same sad look he'd given Frisk. He knew where everything was because he helped them move in. He knew where everything was, because he decided where they should put it, not them. Disgusted, he admitted to himself and no one else. "This really is a fuckin' doll house."
That pill was big and it was bitter, but Anthony had to swallow it anyway. He gathered up Frisk's clothes under his arm, and he shook his head as he turned away from his reflection. Back through their room, he shut the door behind him and made his way back over the paint splats and to the bathroom. He welcomed the hiss of the shower head, it was a far better noise than the deafening silence.
Anthony stepped back into the bathroom. He looked at the closed curtain, and then he set Frisk's clothes on the counter beside the sink. He knew he should have walked out and shut the door after that, but he didn't. Maybe it was an abuse of power and maybe it was wrong, but he knew Frisk would never tell him to leave. So, Anthony wandered over to the shower. He turned around, and he sat down on that ledge with his back to the curtain. Then, resting his elbows on his knees, he leaned forward and buried his face in his palms. There was a long quiet... And then he heard Frisk's voice from behind the curtain. "Are you okay..?"
"... Something awful happened today." Anthony admitted after only a brief hesitation. He didn't lift his head, didn't take his narrowed eyes off his dirty boots on the clean tile floor. He explained, figured 'Fuck it. What do I have to lose?' "Someone was taken, someone really important to me. I think... I think whoever took her did it to hurt me. I think she's in danger, and it's I think it's my fault."
There was a longer quiet. Then, the water shut off. Anthony didn't move and he didn't lift his head, not even when he heard that curtain get pulled aside behind him. He felt drops of warm water strike his back, it soothed him in a way he wouldn't admit. Then, he felt Frisk wrap their arms around him carefully. Their body was still wet as they hugged him, but he didn't mind the feel of their warmth seeping into him. Their voice was more gentle and caring than he'd heard it in a long time. "... That's terrible. I'm so sorry that happened, Anthony."
Anthony didn't respond. Didn't thank Frisk for their condolences, didn't tell them to get off him. Instead, he pulled his hands away from his face. He let one lay limp, but he reached up with the other and rested his hand over one of Frisk's still dripping forearms. That made Frisk smile with some relief, even though they knew Anthony couldn't see it.
He was busy staring straight ahead. Out through the open bathroom door, into the paint stained living room. He hadn't looked at it from the right angle before, couldn't see it until he sat where he was now. But there, in the red aimlessly splattered over the wood floor he'd made for Frisk, was a coherent shape in all the abstract. Three scarlet lines, with a circle smeared around them. An uppercase A in a circle. The symbol for Anarchy.
DOUBLETALE: SEASON 7
THE SCARLET LETTER
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