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[Frisk evidently has something of a devious streak, according to Alphys.]

Deal.

[It's harmless, anyway. Then Frisk has an idea.]

The mansion still has way too many cats, right?

[Chara pauses. Slowly raises their eyebrows again. Poises the pen, ready to write.]

Where are you going with this, partner?

Well, if we get...four cats. And label them. 1, 2, 4, and 5. And put them all in Sans's room.

[Where's the third cat? There is no third cat.

Cue hilarity.]

[A surprised burst of laughter bubbles up out of them. Well, well, partner!]

That's ingenious, Frisk. You may be more ruthless than I gave you credit for!

[And it's written. Circled. Underlined. They're doing this.]

Someone's a bad influence on me. I'm blaming Sans.

[He pranked them first with the whole "unscrewing the cap on the ketchup" thing. Multiple times, at that.]

[Another round of giggles. There it is, the little gem of funniness hiding under all the stuttering and mumbling! The obviously let's roleplay.]

Frisk! How could you let him sway you to the dark side like that?

Someday, I'm going to find out your real sentiments on the crossword v. junior jumble issue, and I fear our very friendship may hinge on the answer.

[As... tentative and maybe-not-quite-accurate as the word "friendship" is, anyway. There isn't really a fitting word for their whatever-they-were.]

What? I like crosswords!

["Friendship". Friendship! They said the thing! They said the thiiiiiiiing!

They don't draw attention to it, but there's no concealing the thrill of delight that elicits another wide grin.]

[Gasp!]

Judas.

[And Frisk is wearing that one look of theirs again. You know. That one. The "blurting something indescribably sappy" look. But there's nothing sappy about crosswords, so...]

...What? You're doing the face again.

[They duck their head, but that doesn't conceal their sheer, overpowering glee.]

...you said "friendship."

[Doesn't matter if they were joking as they said it. This is probably the friendliest, cheeriest conversation they've ever had, with no barbs exchanged aside from the joking variety.]

[A continuing trend: Chara's rosy cheeks going even rosier.

The thing about words like Mom or Dad or friendship: saying it out loud proves you believe it, and therefore makes it scary. Determination gives you the boon of momentum, lets you keep plunging forward without stopping to really think it over, but when you do stop, it's...

...It's really weird, how okay things are, right? After so much time being neck-deep in not-okay, it doesn't feel real or... or allowed? What gives things the right to be okay?]

I didn't... don't go acting like we're, I don't know... we're not - we're not friends.

[So they start to backpedal, to stumble to a clumsy halt. (They didn't stutter like that before they met Frisk, did they? They're good with words.)

But they were... doing pretty good, actually, right? Jokes are... if you can make jokes, it's... not totally ruined. They look away, try to shrug it off, and announce:]

Unless.

Cinnamon or butterscotch. We settle it for real.

We live together and share prank ideas. We totally are.

[There's no denying it, Chara. You said it first.

Frisk's brow furrows briefly at this new conundrum.]

I'd never even tasted butterscotch before I fell Underground!

[They just keep retreating at top speed from the topic of friendship. Brush it aside, shrug it off, catapult it bodily out the window. Not here, nope, never happened. Not getting discussed.

In fact. It was probably just a figment of Frisk's imagination. A trick of the light. A speck of dust in the air made it look like someone might have theoretically said "friendship," but we will never know for certain. Truly.]

You'd never tasted butterscotch? Did you live in a cave and survive off bugs?

[Aw, darn. Maybe Frisk should have recorded this for posterity's sake.

* Now you're smiling for noooo reason!]

I didn't have the best...time before I fell.

[They shrug. Their smile slips for a little bit, but it's not so painful a recollection to scrub the warm feeling from their chest entirely. They don't have to think too hard about it.]

[...Oh. Oh, that's... yeah, that's right.

* Chara looks like they've swallowed something unpleasant.

They'd told Sans, hadn't they? They didn't believe for a single second that a person climbed Mt. Ebott just out of... they don't know. Boredom? Looking for an adventure? Trying to make themselves a hero of a story, like Alphys had done? Boredom doesn't make disappearing seem like the more appealing option. It's a lack of something, a horrible and clawing deprivation, that does that.]

If.

[They back away, sit down on their own bed.]

If you would rather pretend "before I fell" just... just doesn't exist, I won't... you know.

[It takes a bit more effort to pull themselves together after that, a burst of sincerity from both sides of the conversation and a topic neither of them really talk about: the why. Why'd you climb the mountain. Why'd you go to a place where you know people disappear. Why, why, why.

Frisk finally musters up a faint smile, though it's a little sad.]

It's all right. It...it happened. I guess it's better to accept it.

[They don't... like that smile. It's the kind of smile they're already used to, not the kind they're just starting to learn. They smile back, and it's the same kind they're used to wearing.

They know they don't talk about their own "before I fell." That one unhappy reason, the one Asriel was kind enough to not gossip about in detail... that was it. The reason they hated - still hate - humanity so much, the reason they hoard food in their room or their inventory, the reason they hide knives, the reason they... haha, the reason for a thousand unfun things.]

If you... want to do the opposite of not talk about it. Ever, that is.

[About as unwieldy and clumsy of a phrase as possible. They twist their hands, fiddle with the edges of their sleeves.

They have guesses. But only guesses. When Frisk had said they intended to "disappear," was that the childish naive hope that it would just... erase them? Or the stark reality of a sharp drop from a dizzying height? Had they stood at the edge of the abyss and fearlessly toppled forward? Slid over the precipice by accident? Intended to jump, but found the thought of pain, of jumping and dying, of jumping and surviving, so scary that they stopped, over and over and over, until a wayward root caught their foot and the world decided for them?

Possibly for the first time, Chara and Frisk... it... sort of counts as playing, maybe? Chara suggested a prank, and Frisk said Sans will get mad. Chara drops jokes about getting beaten, getting the belt, and they both giggle, neither find it jarring or unexpected. So maybe...?]

Our experiences. They might...

...I never thought Asriel would be capable of understanding. I don't think he should ever have to be capable of understanding. But... I might be capable of understanding you?

I'm not sure if monsters would understand. Wanting to...

[It feels strange to admit it. Everything seemed so oddly happier Underground. The monsters struggled to get by, and there were undeniably tensions, but they seemed more like a community, a family, than any collective of humans Frisk had known on the surface. And Toriel was more of a mother to them than anyone.

"Mom," they called her, and it felt right. A soft white paw ruffling their hair, the crisp smell of fire magic intermingling with the warmth of a rising pie crust. They would have stayed there forever if they could. But on the times that they heeded her words, retreated upstairs to lie in bed, that unknown voice - Asgore's voice? - quietly urged them on. Their journey could not end here. They had to stay determined.

Frisk, and Chara. The two children who fell and perhaps intended to disappear, but found a family instead.]

My reason for falling...wasn't a very happy reason, either.

[* You tell the Lost Soul you have to go if you're going to free everyone.

But Chara knew they weren't being fair, dragging that memory out and prodding and insisting. Never letting Frisk just run away from Toriel's flames and go to their room like a good child. They knew the heartache of calling and calling and calling a number, everywhere you went, every time you just hoped and prayed and wished that someone could make you a little less scared and alone, and never hearing a voice at the other end. They were there to witness that, too.

...More guesses. Frisk calls her Mom effortlessly, and Chara wonders. Are they used to "Mom" being a title they have to keep assigning to a new stranger every so often? Are they just... that desperate for someone who'd take them in and show them love?]

I didn't think it was.

When... monsters show up again. It's gonna be on TV. You're gonna be everywhere. Is someone...

[They don't say "parents." Toriel is Frisk's mom. Full stop. ...Maybe it's not even their place to wonder, to worry about human things like social services and custody. Just... let the ending be perfectly happy. Stop casting cynicism and pessimism over it, stop expecting the worst.]

...Were you trying to escape something, or was it because of something you did not have?

Both, I guess.

[They must've done a better job of blocking all that out than they'd thought. Good enough to obscure it even from Chara. From themselves, sometimes. The reasoning behind it is very simple.

It's because that person wasn't them. Wasn't Frisk. They became Frisk when they made the choice to walk up that mountain, their striped shirt sticking to their back with sweat, their breath puffing out in hot bursts against the chilled air. Walk to the top with their toes balancing over the edge, peering over. They couldn't even see the bottom. Nothing but a sheer drop into inky void. From where they stood, it might have even been a portal into another world. And in a way, it was.]

I guess I decided it wasn't me. With that first SAVE...

[They stretch out a hand, mimicking the motion of forming the golden four-pronged point. The crackling of red leaves underfoot. A new life, a new world, a curious monster who said that she would take care of them. And with the power to SAVE came the knowledge that they did not have to go back. They could not go back prior to that point.]

But I don't know about what happens when we get out.

You worked so hard for the chance to be Frisk again. It's... funny, huh?

[A name that was only recovered at the very last moments of the very last timeline. ...It's not funny at all. LOVE still lurks in them; they think if they decided not to feel guilty about scribbling their name over top of Frisk's, then they wouldn't feel a thing.

They choose to dig for that guilt, and hold it tightly.]

When you say "we," Frisk...

I don't know what happens either. But... I think Sans does. I think he's... seen more timelines than we have.

[Even the end isn't the end, he tells them, and it's enough to make Chara's wavering hold on their overblown emotions crumple like paper. Later, he asks them if this version of them ever got past him. Ha. This version. He sees the Real Knife, and clutches at his chest like he recalls something.]

[Maybe not funny. Weird, though. Ironic? Or is that one of those things people would say is ironic but actually isn't? Frisk is twelve. They have no clue.]

What makes you say that?

[Were there timelines before Frisk made that fateful step-tumble down Mt. Ebott? The other humans, maybe? Or maybe...maybe it has something to do with that memory of the monster that made their eyes and brain hurt, like staring at an uncomfortably bright light for too long.]

I thought...the two of us were the only ones who could - who could do that. Set things back.

It is us, Frisk.

[What Chara refers to, at the very least. There's Flowey, but he seemed to have had his fill of ol' Smiley Trashbag. They know of nothing else that could Reset. Just anomalies. Flowey, Chara, Frisk.]

We... are from the same timeline, right?

["This version." Like maybe they aren't the right Chara at all. Like they're as disposable as the names that summon them.]

Papyrus comes from a timeline where I was in control. Sans does not. We could also be...

[He could be from a "future" point. As much as a word like that can even apply. This version of Chara never got past Sans, but that version of Sans tells them the end isn't the end. That they get past him, but there are still Resets.]

Let me ask. That miserable event aside, do you know what LV20 feels like? Did I ever kill him?

I'm not sure it matters. We still remember everything we did, right?

[Frisk frowns. They still have trouble discussing this so openly, even if they're actively trying to be more transparent about it. They've already tried to tell everyone here the truth, even if it aches to do so.

Pulling their mind back to that time isn't pleasant, but they frown to focus on it. LV 19, inching ever closer. Then Frisk shakes their head.]

I don't think so. I don't think we ever got past him.

It is the same for me. He spared us. We did not come back. We have seen every ending but that one.

I don't think that's the case for him. He's died at my hand before.

[Our hand...? The line between "I" and "we" feels like a dangerous one. They don't want to flirt with it.

And here they pause. They have hinted at their intentions, their plans to bring everything to an absolute and vicious end. But... nobody knows the full extent of their plan. Their idea to shatter every last bit of appeal in repeating the story. To crush the happy ending.]

We are constants across Resets. You're right about that. There is no "other Frisks" like there are "other Sans-es." I... do not know for certain, but I think. If he remembers it. Maybe it's inevitable that we're going to reset.

Even so, I...

[...But surely it would be shooting themselves in the foot to reveal their plan. Isn't Frisk the partner they'd be trying to drag consequences down onto?

They have a lot of very uncertain, contradictory feelings about this.]

I do not know for certain if there is a "we" after you leave Mt. Ebott. But. I think... if you want to continue being Frisk, if you want to keep that happiness...

[Has he? Frisk's heart thuds sickeningly at the thought. Briefly, they strain to remember anything, any version of that encounter in the gold-tinted hall that ended in his death...and come up with nothing. They never saw it happen. But he's a version of him who did.]

What? I have to let you just...fade away?

[With this new, tentative friendship thing happening between them, Frisk isn't sure whether they can put that one down to selflessness or Chara's own crushing desire to just stop being.]

We don't know if that's how it works. We haven't gone that far.

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