Chapter Text
A long time ago monsters’ lived peacefully underground. For millennia they had been trapped with no hope of freedom, but for the first time ever, the possibility that they might soon return to the Surface seemed more likely than it ever had before. Seven human souls. With this power, the King of Monsters could become a god and break the Barrier trapping them all. Six had already been collected. One more child was all that was standing in-between monsters and their freedom.
One day, a seventh human fell into the Underground. The story said that this human was special, that they were the key to salvation. Either the King would take their soul, the human would find a way to break the Barrier on their own - or that they would kill every monster in the Underground and bring the world to it’s knees.
That is not how this story went. The human passed through the Underground, killing monsters’ with no rhyme or reason. Upon reaching the King they killed him too and claimed his soul, passing through the Barrier and abandoning the monsters’ forever.
The six souls were gone. Monsterkind grieved their fallen king and the innocents slain by the human. When the Queen returned to the Throne and preached of peace and coexistence with humans, they rose up in rebellion against her. For the third time humans had destroyed everything the monsters held dear and the idea that they could ever live in peace was unthinkable.
The riots lit the cavern up with magic and fire, monsters taking to the street and calling her the Queen’s head. She fled back into exile once more, her only friend and a few of her supporters following her. Monsterkind remained trapped and tried to move forwards, fuelled only by their betrayal and the new Queen’s vengeance.
But anger alone is not enough for monsters to flourish. People began falling down into despair and never woke up. The Royal Scientist disappeared into her lab with the evidence of her mistakes. The Queen in the Ruins looked across her tiny kingdom and wondered how the child she loved was faring on the surface. Did they miss her? She wondered.
Beside her stood her one and only friend. During these moments he never had the heart to tell her what the human did, what they took from him. He would smile humorlessly and stay silent, sure that the human never gave the monsters a second thought. How could they, after they took everything from them and never once tried to make things right?
He hoped they burned in hell. He was sure they were living happily on the Surface, enjoying the sun on their skin and the wind in their hair monsters would never experience.
On the Surface, the human wasn’t faring much better. They had tried to do all of these things, to smile and cherish their freedom, put the innocent lives they took out of their mind and go back to being the child they once were. It never worked. Their smile grew dark and eyes shadowed. Their dreams were haunted by monsters being torn into dust by sticks and knives, grinning flowers and the feeling of being torn apart and coming back time and time again.
You are Frisk. After six years on the Surface, hiding from everything you have done you find yourself back at Mt Ebott, staring up at the mountain peak you once fell from. You are not here to make amends or to see the friends you made and betrayed, you are here because of your dreams. Endless pillars of darkness. Remixed faces of the people you murdered smiling and laughing and spewing oil from their eyes. A figure cloaked in billowing fabric tearing blackness from the Earth. In itch in your bones, deep and unescapable, calling you back up the mountain and into the Underground.
It is a frigid November morning. It has only been six minutes since you stepped off the bus but your fingers are already going numb and you tap them against each other to keep them warm. When you dreamt about going back as a child you had been slow, scared. Now you are actually here again, you walk with purpose.
The idea of ever seeing monsterkind again has always filled you with a terror you covered up with jokes. A chill when you hear a kind voice, nausea when you eat spaghetti, a deep fear of being left alone in dark spaces you laugh off when anyone questions you about it until people stopped asking. You can be seen as weird. It is the least you deserve.
The day is cold and the sky is grey. Despite this, you end up meeting a group of hillwalkers who greet you with their strange American accents and take a few moments to talk to them. They might be the last humans you ever see, after all.
“You’re a bit young to be up here on your own, aren’t’cha?” a woman asks. Her eyes are dark brown and inquisitive, fixed on you with concern. “Are your parents around somewhere?”
Her dog circles you, sniffling at your legs while you shift. Now that she has said this, her husband also looks at you in concern. He is tall and broad, golden hair falling to his shoulder and his left eye hidden behind a medical eyepatch. You plaster a smile on your face and shrug.
“My parents are behind me,” you laugh. “We live pretty close by,” at this you point to your town on the horizon, “so they trust me to go on ahead of them.”
This reassures them and they laugh.
“Oh, we didn’t realise you’re a native to the area,” she laughs. “Think you could tell us the best places to visit?”
This conversation is dragging on longer than you would like. You shuffle your feet impatiently and think of the monsters buried in the ground below you.
Maybe they have been doing okay since you left, you think. Immediately, the hate in Sans’ voice when he last spoke to you comes to mind and you smile. Not a chance. You’ll be lucky if he doesn’t kill you the second you hit the ground, honestly. At least that would be funny. Coming all this way convinced there is a reason for you having these dreams only for you to instantly be murdered.
The humans seem to realise you aren’t interested in conversation and say goodbye, calling their yapping dog as they head back down the mountain. It bound’s back to them with a familiar high-pitched bark that twists your heart.
The last time you had been on this mountain it was summer. The day had been cold but birds were singing and flowers were blooming and you took your time walking to the top. Now those flowers are dead and the birds silent, and you walk with single-minded determination up the path that has haunted your dreams for so long.
You are only halfway up the mountain and yet the city you live in looks so distant. It feels like a different world you never belonged to. With some effort you find your parents flat on the horizon and wonder if they know you haven’t show up to school by now. There are no texts or calls on your phone yet so either they don’t care or no one has bothered to let them know you are missing.
You place your phone down on the ground. It is a lot newer than the one Alphys upgraded years ago, which is stashed safely at the bottom of your backpack. Without a second thought you bring your foot down onto it as hard as you can, smashing it into a mangled mess of wires, metal and machinery.
. . .
You just remembered something sad.
There is a dead bush beside you that will be perfect for hiding the remains of your phone away from anyone who might come snooping. Now no one from the Surface will ever bother you again. Isn’t it funny that you feel like you belong more in the world you visited once as a child and killed innocent people in than amongst your fellow humans who only see you as a regular teenager?
You were never the same after you escaped the Underground. You have spent years living in the shoes’ of a child who died to a stray bullet fired by a well-intentioned monster and you can’t wait to shed their skin.
By now you must have walked past the cave you stumbled out of after defeating Flowey, trembling and covered in dust. You barely remember your journey back down the mountain, just that you could feel your heart pounding in your chest and still feel Flowey’s bullets and vines stabbing into you as you walked. After that… nothing until you woke up the next morning in the hospital.
A root catches your foot and you stumble, feeling that old locket sway and hit against your chest as you regain your balance. You opened the locket once. Inside was an old picture of a child you have never seen before even though everything about them looked so familiar.
You remember the name Flowey called you. “Chara”. So many times at night, when your lonely thoughts were too much to bear you would clutch the locket to your breath and mumble that name like you could bring them back. It never worked, of course.
The wind blows past you and you shiver. You are only wearing a hoodie and you huddle into it, wishing you had thought to bring a jacket.
“I hope it’s warmer underground,” you say, gritting your teeth and pressing forwards.
By the time you make it to the top of the mountain it has started to rain. Of course it has. You cast one last look back to the town you grew up in and remember everything about it that was once so familiar to you. The park that flooded every time it rained a little too much. The rattling bus you took into the city every weekend with your mother. The streets you played in with your friends when you were young enough to still have friends. The view of this very mountain from your bedroom window.
The opening that will take you to the Underground is right at your feet. You have had many nightmares about falling back down when you were younger and as you look down you feel that familiar fear come back. The deluded bravado that had brought you all the way up where is fading and you wonder if this is a good idea. Maybe a dream is just a dream. Maybe a self-destructive urge is best left ignored.
But what is there waiting for you back home? You haven’t belonged there since the day Frisk died and you woke up. You have killed and seen magic, you know things about this world the humans never could. Monsters died at your own hands and their dust still sticks in your throat when you breathe, but you know that you belong in the Underground far more than you ever belonged with humanity.
With this thought, you close your eyes and step into nothing.
The fall is less dignified than you would have hoped. It is a blur of dirt and columns and the occasional patch of light above your head everything spinning wildly as you tumble all the way down the mountain. You might scream as you fall but the wind is too loud in your ears for you to really tell and there is no one else around to hear for you.
There are more flowers growing here than there were six years ago and your landing is a little more comfortable this time. Still, your teeth rattle painfully in your jaw and it takes you a minute before you can struggle to your feet, brushing petals and seeds and dirt from your hoodie.
The rain hits your head and makes you shiver. You look back up where you fell, taking a moment to savour the last glimpse of the sky you will ever see and take a deep breath. The nerves aren’t disappearing now that you are actually here again. In fact you feel a lot more nervous than you ever did when picturing this moment in your mind. You have been terrified of returning after what you did and yet you consider yourself irreversibly changed by your first journey in the Underground to the point that you consider it your real home. There is no sense of belonging, though. You do not belong here anymore.
Flowey isn’t waiting for you in the next room. There are flowers growing in the grass here too and you spend a good few minutes looking through them for one that has a face and a ring of bullets for your soul. The room stays empty and quiet though, so you reluctantly move further into the Ruins.
The first puzzle you come across is exactly as you remember it. There is no kind goat mother to hold your hand this time and you take your time with the puzzle, reading the sign and pretending you haven’t already watched Toriel solve this for you years ago. Marching across the switches over and over again makes you smile. You are just wasting time, now. You are terrified of running into her again.
No matter how scared you are, you can’t hide in this room forever and you are forced to move on. Toriel is not in the next room either, ready to look at you in disappointment. Instead there are a handful of other monsters, a few you recognise and a few you have never seen before. It takes a moment for them to notice you and begin whispering amongst themselves about you like you are a wanted criminal.
“Is that..?” a froggit whispers to a rabbit.
“No. Of course it isn’t,” someone else murmurs. From what you can see out of the corner of your eyes they appear to be a fish monster of some kind but you aren’t brave enough to look at them.
“They aren’t any monster I’ve ever seen.”
They grow louder and more agitated as you finally make it into the next room. The puzzles here have all been solved already and the hallways are lined with a few stray monsters, looking up as you pass. Their voices follow you as you walk further into the purple catacombs and you shiver. You knew, of course, that monsters would not be happy to see you again. You just weren’t prepared for the way they would speak about you.
The Ruins are a lot busier the last time you were here and you avoid thinking about why that might be. Instead you pull your hood over your head and bury your hands in your hoodie pockets, continuing on without interruption. No one pays you any mind after this. As far as anyone is aware you are just another monster passing through.
You soon find yourself on a balcony, overlooking the rest of the Ruins. The last time you had been here, the endless buildings were empty and the air silent. It is so much livelier now. Monsters you remember seeing all across the Underground are everywhere, in the streets and in the houses, filling up the air with chatter and laughter. This should be good, right? Toriel won’t have to be alone. The Ruins are livelier and happier than you have ever seen.
Something sits heavy in your chest. Toriel’s home is only a few rooms away from you and you can smell pie on the air. What would she do if you walked into her home right now? Would she be happy to see you? It seemed like she really loved you before. But that was before she knew what you had done and what kind of a person you really are.
Coldness sits in your chest and snakes its way down your veins. What if she hates you?
You picture her looking at you in disgust. Her kingdom is gone because of you. Innocent monsters are dead because of you. You have returned to the Underground, not out of a genuine desire to make things right and free everyone but because you have been having some weird dreams and felt like you should return.
“You have a lot of nerve coming back here.”
The sudden voice makes you jump. It is soft, childish, and yet painfully bored. It brings back so many horrible memories you have tried to hard to forget. You can barely bring yourself to look at him, but after a moment you turn your head down to face Flowey.
He looks the same as he did in your nightmares. Golden petals, cruel black eyes, a bored, disgusted expression on his face. He is looking at you like you are an affront to nature itself, sneering up at you while you tremble.
“You really think anyone here wants to see your face again?”
This time he waits for you to respond. You take deep breaths in and out, waiting for the moment where he pulls your Soul from your body and smashes it into pieces with bullets. Or the moment his face morphs into something truly monstrous and his voice distorts in a way you can still hear so clearly. Or when vines grab you and hold you down, pulling your limbs until they fall apart -
“I’m not here for you,” you manage to say eventually.
Does he really care why you are here? Did he just want to make you feel bad? He frowns when you speak and you flinch back, ready for him to hurt you.
Nothing happens He just watches you unhappily.
“Golly, you really are pathetic aren’t you?” Flowey’s is cheerful, sweet even. His beady black eyes stay fixed on you, emotionless even as he smiles. “What happened to that brave human that killed Asgore and so many other innocent monsters for no reason?”
There is anger in his voice. What right does Flowey have to hate you for what you did when he has done so much worse? When he stole the human souls and left monsters trapped? When he killed you so many times and mocked you?
“What do you care?” you ask him. There is no way for you to put these angry thoughts at him into words. You never were the eloquent type and without that second voice whispering in your head to help you think, there is no way for you to express yourself. All you can do is shake and clench your first until it hurts as he eyes you up and down, grit and determination grinding your teeth.
“I don’t!” he says after a moment and sticks his tongue out at you. The motion is so strangely childish that it catches you off guard. “It’s just funny. All the monsters did was try to be your friend and you killed them! It took me so long to get to that point!”
Something about his words doesn’t sound right to you, but you don’t know what it means. All you can do is look away, trying to find the words to explain how terrified you were. How much the bullets hurt. How… weak the monsters were.
Your throat dries and you swallow dryly. Your sleepy eyes close and you see infinity in the shape of a column, stretching up beyond anything you can comprehend.
When you force your eyes back open Flowey is still there, examining you smugly.
“You look like shit,” he says innocently. “I guess that guilt has been eating you alive, huh?”
Flowey doesn’t care. You know he doesn’t care and yet you nod anyway, desperate for someone to look at you and realise you regret everything that happened too. He giggles at that and looks at you like you are a stupid little kid.
“Silly,” he says mockingly. There is a strange fondness in his voice that makes you cringe. “In this world it’s kill or be killed. You were only defending yourself, why bother feeling bad about it?”
You have nothing to say to that. You want Toriel, suddenly. You want to wake up as an eight year old on that bed of flowers again with the courage to do everything right. You stay Frisk. You stay standing on the balcony in the Ruins a few rooms away from the only woman who ever cared for you and look at the only other person in the world who might possibly understand you.
The last time you saw Flowey you didn’t understand him at all. He was terrifying, violent and immature. Now you see the way he acts, hear how soft his voice is, the strange quiet anger in his voice and wonder how old he is. You wonder which monster he killed he was secretly fond of.
Footsteps in the corridor behind you both. Flowey’s mouth splits into a wide grin and he gives you one final look, burrowing back underground and leaving you alone. The footsteps are heavy, rhythmic, the air behind you getting colder and colder. Your hood is up, your hands deep in your pockets and yet you find yourself shaking.
Blue in your soul. Everything goes heavy. Slowly, clumsily, you turn around.
“Human.” Sans drawls like he did in the woods of Snowdin. “Turn around and shake my hand.” There is no humour in his voice when he speaks. No attempt at being scary. Just empty, emotionless words. He hates you. Why would he not? He told you to never come back, after all.