Chapter 22
In the weeks that followed, Frisk slowly began to rebuild her strength. At first it was being able to eat solid food. Then it was in the form of walking down the stairs without getting out of breath. She wasn't recovering as quickly as she would have liked, but Frisk knew progress was progress.
Yet that didn't mean she never got frustrated with herself.
Using her healing magic, Alice rubbed Frisk's back to ease her nausea. The human insisted she join Mon on her morning run. Frisk managed to complete the first lap going no slower than a brisk walk, so she tried to sprint part of the way the second lap, never mind her lungs and legs having already agreed they were done. Falling to the ground, Frisk began throwing up the solid breakfast she before now was able to keep down. Sometime between that and this moment, Mon had left to get Alice.
"Yo," Mon said after Frisk stopped retching, "just because you can do one lap doesn't mean you need to kill yourself over the second."
"I thought I could do it," Frisk muttered. Alice sat beside her, shaking her head but saying nothing.
"Did you really, or were you trying to prove something?" Mon challenged. "At this rate, we're going to have to tie you down and force you to rest. We clearly can't trust you to make good decisions for yourself."
To that, Frisk had no response. She already went out that morning without putting on the locket. Undoubtedly Chara would call her out for being stupid to push herself so much. Now Mon was close to doing the same thing, and Frisk couldn't silence Mon the way she could Chara.
"Why are you so insistent to go this hard anyway?" Mon then asked. "What's so worth compromising your health over?"
Knowing she couldn't hide the truth forever, Frisk answered, "I want Undyne to train me, but she won't train me when I'm this weak."
"I don't know why you would want anything to do with her." Mon snorted. "She's a terrible person."
"Being a terrible person doesn't change that she's a good fighter." With Alice's help, Frisk stood to her feet. "I'm not going to be unable to defend myself the next time I face Mew Mew or any other monster who wants to kill me. I need to learn to fight to protect myself and those around me, and Undyne is the best person to train me to do so."
"She can't train you if you work yourself to death," Alice said firmly, speaking for the first time.
"And she won't train me if I don't get strong again," Frisk argued.
"I don't understand." Alice shook her head. "Why is it so important to you to learn how to fight? The fact you survived against Mew Mew as long as you did is proof you know how to defend yourself. Why study the offensive? Isn't self-defense enough?"
Looking back and forth between Alice and Mon, Frisk swallowed. She couldn't tell them – would never tell them – that she wanted Undyne to train her so she could kill Mew Mew. Both girls knew that Mew Mew killed Toriel, but they wouldn't understand why the need for revenge was so strong in Frisk. It was easy to rationalize why a person shouldn't seek vengeance on the wrong done to them or someone they loved. Yet being that person left no room for being rational.
"Maybe I just don't want to nearly die again," Frisk spat. "Not that either of you two could understand what that's like."
Hurt flashed across both girls' faces. Without giving them a chance to react, Frisk stomped away. Neither called after her.
"Lovely weather we're having, huh?"
Stopping in her tracks, Frisk glared at Sans. Undyne, as usual, was right behind him. Frisk didn't doubt that they just witnessed her exchange with her friends.
"There is no weather Underground," Frisk said, words clipped. She wasn't in the mood to deal with them, either.
"Good," Sans replied as if unaware of her foul mood. "No weather means the days are consistent. You always know what the temperature is going to be and whether or not it will rain."
Undyne groaned. "You are absolute garbage at small talk."
"You could have just ended that sentence on garbage," Sans replied, sparing Undyne a single glance.
Frisk began to stalk away but stopped when Undyne called her. "What?" she growled, not really caring if Undyne beat her to a pulp for being so rude.
However, when Undyne spoke, she didn't sound offended. "Your friends are right, punk. I can't train you if you push yourself to death."
"As if you were going to train me in the first place." Frisk snorted.
"No, but at least with you alive I get the choice." Undyne narrowed her eye. "If you want me to train you so badly, show me why I should. What do you have that will make taking you in as a student worth my time and energy? Huh, got nothing to say?"
Not knowing what to respond, Frisk only glared at Undyne. She wasn't scared of the fish monster anymore. Not a lot scares a person after she experiences multiple deaths then the death that did not end with an instant reset.
Undyne waved her hand as if Frisk was nothing more than a fly she could shoo away. "Enough of this. A brat like you isn't even worth my speaking to."
"I could have let Asgore behead you," Frisk said slowly, making a point with each word. "You would be dead right now if I didn't beg Sans and Papyrus to save you."
"That was your choice," Undyne replied, speaking just as pointedly as Frisk. "Don't ever do anything for anyone because of what you think you'll get in exchange. If your motivated by what you might get in return, save your energy and do something for yourself instead. Is it selfish? Probably, but at least you won't be putting yourself in the position to think someone's indebted to you for a choice you made for their benefit of your own free will."
Fingernails biting into the palms of her hands, Frisk spun on her heel and stormed away. Sans called out to her that he would see her at lunch. Frisk did nothing to indicate she heard. Not when she was too busy trying to keep the tears of frustration from falling.
In order to get Undyne to shut up about it, Sans and she walked to a gym so Undyne could get a workout in. He lazily flipped through a magazine while Undyne ran on the treadmill then later lifted weights. The owner, a monster with a horse upper body and serpent lower, encouraged a soap monster as she tried with little success to lift a dumbbell.
"Good thing Frisk hasn't tried coming here yet," he mumbled, not really caring if Undyne heard him. "She would have a field day pushing her already strict limits in a place like this."
"I'm not training her," Undyne said, eye locked onto the ceiling as she pumped the weights above her lying body.
"Who said I was trying to talk you into training her?" Sans replied. "What you do with your time is your business."
Growling, Undyne said through gritted teeth, "I require strength from my soldiers, and the little punk doesn't have it. If she wants me to train her so badly, she needs to prove it to me first. No 'you owe me so you have to' bull crud. I can't stand entitled morons. When I wanted something, I worked my butt off for it. I did everything I could to prove that I was worthy of more, and I put in a hell of a lot of effort to get what I desired. Nothing worth having comes easy. Until the punk can figure that out, she can work herself to death for all I care."
"Good things come to those who ask," Sans merely replied.
Undyne barked a humorless laugh. "Asking doesn't mean you should receive. You're not owed anything for existing. Sure, ask away, but denial is still a thing that exists."
To that, Sans didn't have a response. He knew Undyne was right, and he really didn't want to argue with her either. Without another word, he returned to his magazine.
When he and Undyne went to lunch, Frisk and her friends were missing. "Something about wanting to eat outside today," Beatrix had said, waving away the comment as if it didn't matter. "After everything they have all been through, a picnic shared with close friends is something those girls really need."
After lunch, Peter undid Undyne's tether to Sans and let Papyrus have a turn. Undyne had to talk Papyrus out of cutting her hair to see if he would be a good hairdresser and instead suggested the two of them help Beatrix with the cleaning. Not wanting to stick around to do chores, Sans walked outside.
Waterfall was so much darker than the snowy fields. At times such as this, he missed Ice Capital. The way the little light in the Underground danced on the ice buildings made it seem as if he lived in a painting. It was nice to be someplace pleasant when one's inside was so dark and twisted. Here, it was just dark and damp outside and in.
"That is a terrible idea!" That was Frisk's voice, and she was laughing.
Overcome with curiosity, Sans strolled over to see the three girls sitting on a blanket, sandwiches on their laps. The food seemed to be forgotten about in favor of conversation. Whatever it was they were discussing, Sans hadn't the faintest idea.
"Look," Mon said, "I only ever have two ideas: Good ideas, and it-seemed-like-a-good-idea-at-the-time ideas."
"Then this is the latter then," Alice replied, winking at her companion.
The girls didn't notice it, but Sans did. Frisk looked towards her right, away from her friends and the opposite direction from which Sans stood. Enough of her face was exposed, giving him a glimpse of a subtle laugh. Then, without warning, her smile fell. Her head snapped around to make eye contact with Sans. She stared at him long enough for Alice and Mon to realize she was looking at him and sent the skeleton monster their own stares.
Sans wasn't in Frisk's peripheral, but she still knew he was present. Now that he thought about it, Frisk did things like this a lot – focusing her attention on something that wasn't there but still acting as if someone was talking to her. It didn't make sense. Hallucinations probably, but that wouldn't explain how she knew to look his way.
Walking off to let the girls return to their picnic, Sans pondered what this could have meant. He remembered that morning and how Frisk gave her attention on everything around her, the things that he too could see. Yet in moments such as that one, her focus was split between reality and only what she knew.
Something that was aware of her surroundings even when Frisk herself wasn't.
As he was about to walk into the bar, Sans made a connection. This morning, Frisk didn't wear her locket. Just now, it was around her neck as it normally was. Maybe a coincidence, but maybe a sign. Sans couldn't be sure.
Grunting to himself, Sans stepped inside. There was too much going on with the human for him to figure out. He was going to need a drink before he could think about this further.
Sitting at the desk in her room, Frisk hunched over a sheet of paper. It had been a long time since she had the time and resources to draw, and as she had the moment to herself, she thought she would take the opportunity to brush up on her already lacking skill. Even if she wasn't the greatest artist, it was still therapeutic to spend time doing something she loved.
Charcoal in hand, Frisk tried to recreate Snowdin Two, with its warm and cozy cabins, friendly monsters, and lively decorations. It broke her heart the town no longer stood. This was the only way Frisk could think of to honor the memory of a place that had been a home to her when she had nowhere else to go.
"What do you think?" Frisk asked Chara after she finished. Careful to not smudge the art, Frisk picked up the paper to show him. Of course, he did spend the whole hour standing behind her and watching over her shoulder.
As he took in the sketch, Chara answered, "Do you welcome constructive criticism?"
"Yes, of course."
"It sucks."
Frisk frowned. "That's not constructive criticism, Chara."
Recalling the time she, as a child, found piles of artwork in Toriel's room, Frisk opened her mouth to ask Chara if he liked to draw and paint when he was alive. However, she was stopped when Sans entered her room unannounced.
"Who are you talking to?" he asked, eyes studying her. "And why are you holding that picture out like you're showing it to someone?"
While Chara grumbled at the sight of the skeleton monster, Frisk narrowed her eyes at Sans. "There's this new thing. It's called knocking. What you do is curl your hand into a fist and hit it against a door a couple times to let someone know you wish to enter their room. You should try it sometime."
Unphased, Sans repeated, "Who are you talking to?"
"Um, you."
"No, before I entered the room."
Pulling the sketch close to her, aware she couldn't dance around the topic forever, Frisk answered, "I was pretending to ask Alice what she thought."
"Why pretend when you can just ask her?"
"I'm a very sensitive soul and need to figure out how to ask for someone's opinion without making them think they need to validate me but still be gentle when they tell me their thoughts."
Something that sounded like a chuckle came from Sans. "Okay, how about you try on me? See if figured you out how to ask someone what they think of your art."
"He's onto you," Chara muttered, and Frisk wanted to tell him that she could already see that. This was the most frustrating thing about keeping Chara's existence a secret: wanting to speak to him but not being able to because there was another person within earshot.
"Look at this piece I worked really hard to draw," Frisk tried, powering forward as if this was what she really thought about before Sans walked in. "What do you think? Do you like it?"
He looked at the picture and then back at her. "Asking if I like it sounds like you want me to say that I do."
"That's because I do," Frisk said, the lie falling so easily from her mouth, almost worrying her how she went from never lying to constantly fibbing. "I need someone else to tell me I deserve to be proud of myself. External validation and all that."
"Okay, enough dancing around the echo flower," Sans suddenly said. "There's something off about you, but the question is what?"
"In case you haven't noticed, I'm a human," Frisk replied, trying her best to remain calm. "That fact alone should make plenty about me 'off.'"
"You're a real pain, you know that?" Sans approached her and reached out. His thin, spindly fingers grazed her locket. Chara hissed just as Sans asked, "I'm curious, where did you get this?"
"It was my mom's before she died," Frisk answered, resisting the urge to slap Sans's hand away.
"I never did ask, who was your mom?"
"What does that matter? She's dead."
"It matters much more than you're leading me to believe." Sans retracked his hand and took only one short step away from Frisk. "You're hiding something, and I know that locket has a lot to do with it."
"I cannot believe this," Chara growled. "Who does he think he is to question you like this?"
Frisk's heart jumped to her throat. Sans may not have known about Chara, but he knew there was something special about the locket in which Chara's soul was fused. No matter what Frisk said, Sans would see right through it. She knew it. Chara knew it. Even Sans knew that she knew it, and it was why he was backing her into a corner, watching her try not to squirm under his gaze.
"Everyone has secrets," Frisk said, narrowing her eyes. "Including you."
"Yeah, I have secrets," Sans replied, "but the difference here is I'm going to find out yours."
Before she could react, Sans was gone. He must have teleported away.
"This isn't good," Frisk said, heart racing. "Chara, what do we do?"
There was no response.
"Chara?" Looking around, Frisk did not see Chara anywhere. Her accelerating heart came to a sudden stop. Hand flying to her chest, Frisk looked down and realized in all consuming horror that her locket was gone.
Her locket and Chara were gone, and Sans now had custody of both.
