Chapter 23
Teleporting far enough away so that Frisk wouldn't be able to find him, Sans held out his hand and uncurled his fingers. Frisk's locket sat on his palm. If there really was nothing special about this old child's toy, Sans hoped the day would reset so he wouldn't have to face Frisk after stealing her most precious item from around her neck.
Even though he knew nobody else was around, Sans still checked to make absolutely certain he was alone. He teleported off The Island, in a secluded area where there weren't even echo flowers to overhear him. It was pitch black for miles in every direction.
"There doesn't seem to be anything special about this after all," Sans muttered minutes later as he inspected the locket. It really was just a toy. There wasn't any magic connected to it he could sense, and it had no functions other than to hang around one's neck.
Sans felt foolish. Confronting an understandably upset Frisk was going to be difficult. Perhaps the multiple resets were beginning to mess with his ability to think and rationalize.
As he stared at the locket, Sans realized there was one thing left to do: try it on. He was really going to do this. He was really going to wear a child's toy he stole from a hurting girl who cherished it because the locket was the last thing her dead mother had ever given her. Perhaps some of the monsters weren't wrong in thinking of Sans as a bad guy.
Wanting to get it over with, Sans threw the chain around his neck. Nothing changed. He was about to take the locket off when he saw something standing a few feet away from him.
Sans quickly prepared himself in case there was a fight. Before him was another human. A human who showed no emotion save slightly raised brows.
When the human made no move to attack, Sans quickly evaluated it. From what he knew about human anatomy, Sans inferred that this human was male. He looked to be about Frisk's age, but he was taller, paler, and surer of himself. This human wasn't afraid of Sans. Actually, this human looked as if he wanted to hurt Sans.
"What?" Sans didn't really know what to say but didn't want the silence to last any longer. "Don't you have anything to say?"
"Not really," the human replied. "You are not worth my time."
"You would be smart to watch yourself."
The human didn't even blink. "I am not scared of you. There is nothing you could do to me anyway."
Sensing this human as a threat, Sans didn't think twice before he had a bone shoot up from the ground and skewer the human in his abdomen. He waited for the gasp of breath and the blood to pour from his chest and down his chin. Yet neither came.
Looking down, the human calmly stated, "Oh, look at that. I have been impaled."
"How . . . ?" Without waiting to see if the human would answer, Sans had more bones break through the earth and pierce through this human. When he finished, the femurs created a little tepee of sorts. Still no moans of pain or pools of blood.
When the human walked out of the mess of bones unscathed, Sans had to restrain himself from shooting his blasters at whoever this was. He knew nothing would touch this human. It became very apparent to Sans that this was an opponent he could not hurt.
"You took that locket away from Frisk," the human said, tone dead even. "Give it back to her."
Not letting his guard down, Sans asked, "How do you know Frisk?"
"She is my keeper," the human answered.
"What does that mean?"
"Exactly what it sounds like." When Sans didn't respond, the human rolled his eyes and groaned. "Must I spell it out for you, comedian? My soul is fused with that locket, and Frisk is the owner of said locket. You should give it back to her before things get worse."
Sans still didn't reply, but he filled in the blanks. Tethering magic like Peter's must have been at work if this human's soul was tied to this old child's toy. If it was only the soul connected, then this human was likely already dead. There weren't too many dead humans in Underground history, and Sans only needed a minute to go through the names and known facts about each and every one of King Asgore's victims to put two and two together.
"I would say it's an honor to make your acquaintance, Prince Chara Dreemurr," he finally said, "but I don't respect murderers."
"Considering I took the job knowing many people shared the same opinion, I really do not care whether or not you respect me." Chara made a show of examining his nails. "Of course, I was forced to retire. It is clear to me that just enough people were not happy with my profession."
Sans studied the human. Here stood the dead prince, whose soul had been missing for nearly a century. Now it had resurfaced from wherever it had been kept all those decades. Frisk was the carrier of the first human's soul, and if the rumors about the lost soul were true, Sans knew who Frisk's adopted mother was. It was already bad enough there was a human Underground, but if the other monsters knew that Frisk was the exiled Queen Toriel's child, if the other monsters knew that Prince Chara's soul had been found . . .
"Sugar, honey, iced tea." Sans pressed his index and middle fingers against his temples, warding off an oncoming headache. The truth could not be revealed. The world was falling apart already, and these would be the facts to send the Underground into an unforgiving chaos.
"I see what you did there," Chara commented, so monotone that Sans didn't have the faintest idea what the dead prince was thinking. "My favorite is H-E-double hockey stick."
"Queen Toriel is dead." Sans didn't phrase it like a question. There was no need to.
Yet it still surprised him when Chara confirmed, "She is."
"The Reds killed her."
"Mew Mew stabbed Toriel with a knife coated in deathlust. Toriel held on for a long time, but even she wasn't immune to the poison."
"Why was Frisk able to survive deathlust?" Sans asked. Chara didn't answer. "You know something you aren't telling me."
"Can you not say the same, comedian?" Chara narrowed his eyes. "What are you going to do now that you know I'm here? What are you going to do with the news about Toriel? What are you going to do with Frisk?"
As much as Sans didn't want to admit it, Chara made some good points. What am I going to do? Now those were questions to which he wanted to know the answers.
Trying to go through the rest of her day as if nothing was wrong wore Frisk out both physically and mentally. She couldn't make a big deal out of Sans stealing her locket. Without explaining that the soul of a dead prince was connected to the necklace, nobody would understand why Frisk was so desperate to get it back.
"Hey, want to talk?" Alice asked as she joined Frisk on the porch.
In a futile attempt to get her mind off Sans and Chara and all the things that could have possibly happened since Sans stole the locket, Frisk brought a sketchbook and pencil set outside so she could draw. The sketchbook was on her lap, and a pencil was in her hand, but Frisk spent the past half hour sitting like a statue. Her mind was racing too much to focus.
"Talk about what?" Frisk answered, barely paying Alice any attention.
"Why you're so mopey. You were happy during our picnic earlier, but ever since then, you haven't been yourself."
"I'm fine."
"No, you're not." Alice sighed. "Talk to me, Frisk. What's wrong?"
Frisk didn't talk. She gripped the pencil tighter. Her hand cramped under the pressure.
"Where's your locket?"
The question got Frisk to look at Alice. The rabbit monster was frowning. Frisk's silence was answer enough.
"Did Sans take it?" There was so much venom in Alice's voice it scared Frisk more than how accurate Alice's guess was.
"He did," Frisk confirmed. "I don't know why, but he did."
"Does he know that the locket has your soul in it?"
At first Frisk was confused, but then she remembered it was the reason she gave Alice to go after Mew Mew to get the locket back. Even if it wasn't her soul specifically, Frisk still couldn't think of the excuse as a lie. Without Chara, something felt to be missing.
"If he didn't know before, he definitely knows now." Frisk wanted to spit the words, but she didn't have the energy. What she really wanted to do was cry.
"Maybe we should—" Alice began, but Frisk interrupted her.
"No. I don't want to do anything extreme. Not yet, anyway. Not until I learn what Sans is planning."
"What makes you think he will tell you what his plans are?" Alice challenged. "For all we know, Sans is taking your soul to King Asgore as we speak. We only need one final soul. That one soul Sans has is the only thing keeping the barrier from being broken."
Frisk wanted to argue that Sans would not betray her like that, but she couldn't. The truth was, she didn't know what Sans would and wouldn't do. She wanted to believe the best in him, yet there was no evidence to support what she wanted to be true.
Yet Frisk was aware why she wouldn't make a big deal out of his taking her locket. Alice was comfortable believing the locket had Frisk's soul in it – she didn't question how the locket contained a soul in the first place or how Frisk was able to live without her soul. If Frisk told others, they would want to know those things. If they knew about Chara . . . Frisk couldn't imagine the outcome.
"I want my mom," Frisk whispered. Eyes fogging over, she looked at Alice and blinked back the tears that fell anyway. "I want someone to tell me what to do."
"Oh, Frisk." Alice reached out and took Frisk's free hand. She opened her mouth then closed it again. Shaking her head, Alice chose not to talk.
Alice didn't need to speak. Frisk's own words echoed in her head. "I want someone to tell me what to do." They stole her breath away. Chara's voice began filling her mind, calling her out way back then.
"I think you need to be asking yourself why your entire motivation for getting out of here is because Mommy told you to."
Chara was right. Nearly everything Frisk did since the day Toriel died was in an attempt to fulfill her mother's dying wish. Even the decisions she made for herself were motivated by the goal given to her.
Why is leaving Underground so important to me? Frisk wondered. Do I really want to leave, or am I doing all of this to ease my guilt in getting her killed?
Noticing something off, Alice called Frisk's name. "Are you all right? You look terrified."
"I just . . . need to think about some things." Frisk set the sketchbook and pencil aside. "I'm going on a walk."
"Want me to come with you?"
"Thanks, but no, thanks. I want to be alone."
Alice nodded. "I understand. Just don't be gone too long, okay?"
"I won't," Frisk promised. She walked off the porch and down the road. The Island was nothing like Snowdin Two.
Instead of white snow that could be seen for miles, it was pitch black. The only light came from the gems in the sky and the glowing fauna. It was beautiful in a way, but it felt less inviting. The buildings were made of stone, there were no decorations to be seen, and it was constantly cold, only not in the way Snowdin was cold. This was an eerie cold that started from the inside out.
Frisk hugged her bare arms, walking further and further away from the village. Making it to the edge of The Island, she removed her boots and walked along the beach. When the water reached forward and washed over her feet, she didn't react. The worst that could happen was she fell in and drowned. That would be an inconvenience.
Still too close to the water's edge, Frisk sat down and hugged her knees to her chest. Water lapped at her before pulling away. So continued the pattern as she wrestled within herself.
What do I do? Where do I go? Who do I turn to?
Frisk hugged herself tighter, burying her face on her knees.
After she fell Underground, life was simple. It was easy. There was consistent routine for eight straight years.
Then she discovered Chara.
Then the Reds came.
Then Toriel died, giving Frisk one final task.
Frisk never stopped to ask herself if Toriel was right. Experience proved the Underground to be a dangerous place for a human, but that didn't make the surface any better by default. After all, it was life on the surface and the legends behind Mt. Ebott that pushed Frisk to climb the mountain in the first place. Maybe she would be safer on the surface. Except safer didn't mean happier.
"What do I want?" Frisk whispered to herself. A part of her still wanted to honor Toriel. She couldn't live with herself if she never found a way to do so. Leaving the Underground may have been Toriel's quest for Frisk, but the more she thought about it, returning to the surface was not the quest Frisk wanted for herself. At least it wasn't right now. There had to be another way.
Looking at her reflection in the water, Frisk hated what she saw. A broken, worthless girl stared back at her, but it wasn't her physical state that made her those things. Frisk wasn't weak for surviving deathlust. Despite what the poison did to her body, she was strong to endure it. If she was strong enough to persist after deathlust tried to claim her, she was strong enough to do anything.
Something else made her broken and worthless.
Chara verbally and emotionally abused her. He blamed her for Toriel's death. He belittled her. Frisk knew what he was doing, dreading speaking to him at times because of it, but she kept him around all the same. In so many ways, she convinced herself this toxic relationship Toriel unknowingly put on her was what she deserved for being the awful person she was.
Possibly without his knowing, Chara verbalized all the horrible things Frisk believed about herself. He confirmed the awful things she convinced herself were true. Even if he was starting to care about her in a way, that didn't change anything.
Tears began to fall down Frisk's face. Chara was bad for her. She always knew it, but she never did anything about it. Now in the span of time they knew each other, she grew to care for him. While cutting the toxicity out of her life was the right thing to do, Frisk struggled with herself to walk away from the relationship that brought her down and kept her down.
Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise for Sans to take the locket away.
As if thinking of the skeleton monster summoned him, Sans appeared right beside her. He didn't say anything. She saw that he wore the locket.
"So, you met Chara." She said the words flatly, neither asking a question nor inviting a conversation.
"An interesting character," Sans remarked. "Listen, kid, there's something I need to tell you about him—"
"I don't want to hear it," Frisk interrupted. If they got to talking about Chara, Frisk would long for him back. She needed to be alone to think, to figure out what she wanted, and to find the power within herself to not let him judge her worth. Already he was becoming the cruel voice in her head whenever she failed or fell short. Chara was practically a personification of her self-hatred, and she didn't want to discover what that pressure would do to her mental health if she let it persist.
"This isn't an optional lecture," Sans tried. "If other monsters find out—"
"What? If other monsters find out that the long-lost dead prince isn't so lost anymore? That King Asgore can use his soul instead of mine? Great news for the Blues and Reds, I guess. Everyone gets what they want."
"Kid, you're missing the point here." Sans's words were getting tighter and louder. It was the only indication Frisk had that he was getting irritated. "This is about—"
"I'm out of here," Frisk declared, pushing herself to her feet. "Tell the world about Chara. Deliver him to King Asgore for all I care. He's your problem now."
"Frisk." Despite herself, Frisk turned around to look at Sans. Her eyes locked on the heart around his neck. Her eyes immediately began searching for Chara, but she knew she wouldn't be able to see or hear him. However, she wasn't unaware that he could still see and hear her.
"Throw that locket into the water if you know what's good for you." The words hurt Frisk coming out, but she had to remain strong. She couldn't take Chara back. She couldn't even give away that she wanted him back. Now that she was fully realizing the power he held over her, she had to say and do whatever it took to take that power back for herself.
Without giving Sans a chance to respond, without giving Chara the chance to even think of using Sans as a means of communication, Frisk turned and walked away. She didn't look back. If she lingered any longer, she would have burst into tears.
It was as if the world had been ripped from under Chara's feet.
Frisk, who had confronted Mew Mew and nearly died from the encounter just to get him back, walked away from him now. Neither of them were in any danger from Sans or the information he had to share with her. Yet she still left him behind, telling Sans to throw the locket into the water.
Just as he had tricked her into falling into a river to die by drowning.
"Stubborn one, isn't she?" Sans mused, but he must have been talking to himself.
Chara barely paid enough attention to think of a response anyway.
Without realizing he was doing it, Chara hugged himself as he watched Frisk grow smaller and smaller in the distance. Ever since she had woken up from her coma, she had practically become a different person. At first he thought she was coping with the trauma, but now he wasn't sure. It should have been obvious to him right away that something was amiss when she stated she wanted to kill Mew Mew to avenge their mother. The way she pushed herself as if doing so would speed up her recovery also acted as a sign. Yet now that he thought about it, nothing stood out more than how infrequent Frisk wore the locket ever since waking up. She hardly wore it outside. She certainly never wore it during the times she said she was exercising.
Frisk didn't want Chara present during these moments. It wasn't a stretch to assume she simply didn't want him to see at her weakest. After all, he talked down to her plenty when she was still healthy; there's no way she would give him the opportunity to make her feel worse about her already horrid state.
After she got him back from Mew Mew, after they tried to be something less than enemies and closer to possibly friends, Frisk walked away from him. Chara couldn't blame her, not if he was being honest with himself. He had spent nearly all his time with her condemning her and talking down to her – this was only a delayed response.
"Hey, you comin' with, or are you gonna stand there like a tree all day?"
Chara wanted to give Sans a witty response, but he wasn't in the mood to try. He didn't bother responding. Instead he stared at the distance even after Frisk walked out of sight.
"I guess you weren't expecting her to just walk away like that, huh?" Sans didn't sound as if he was mocking Chara, but the words stung all the same.
"As much as I want to say she is trying to trick you as part of some elaborate scheme to get the locket back, I know better." Chara dropped his arms. "She really does not want the locket back."
"Any ideas why?"
I drag her down. I make her feel bad about herself. I get her killed again and again because it is the only thing I have to give me some sick sense of amusement.
"No idea."
With how down Chara felt, it made Sans's light response almost insulting. "Well, that makes my plan a hell of a lot easier."
"And what, pray tell, is your plan?"
"Keep your existence and the truth about Frisk's adoption a secret. I suppose I don't have to reinforce any of it though. If she hasn't said anything yet, she likely never will."
Sans began walking again, and Chara followed after. Curiosity overwhelming him, Chara caught himself asking, "Any particular reason nothing about Toriel and I can become public knowledge?"
"Reds and Blues are divided enough as it is," Sans answered. "Imagine what would happen if word got out that your soul was found, the queen was dead, and she had a living human daughter. One thing would lead to another, and next thing you know – BAM! – civil war."