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[Frisk isn't asleep anymore. Couldn't get back to sleep. They sit partially upright at the prod, so quickly that it's obvious they haven't really managed to get any rest since discovering the pie. Duck their head. Try not to sniffle so it's not apparent that they've been trying to hold back tears again.

Can't fool anyone, of course. Can't even fool themselves. But it feels perfunctory.]

...thanks. I didn't want to - I didn't think -

I just, um. I guess I'm a little scared.

[Scared to accept a gesture that's undeniably Chara being kind, trying to help. Scared to even entertain the thought that Toriel might one day forgive them.]

[Crybaby.

Chara sets the plate down on Frisk's bed. Hesitates. Stands awkwardly there for a beat, fiddling with the ends of their pyjama sleeves. ...Sits down on the edge of Frisk's bed. In a very tense kind of way, one that's barely putting any weight on it, just in case Frisk wants them to get off and get lost.]

Did you hear the one about the kid who ate pie with their bare hands? They were being very impielite.

[Heard it before. Not funny. They... don't know what else to say. They ask themselves what Frisk would say, and almost laugh out loud at the absurd irony of trying to tell Frisk what they think Frisk would tell Frisk.]

...It is scary, isn't it?

[Frisk makes a peculiar sniffling-huffing sound that might be mistaken for a laugh, if one were optimistic, which neither of them are, so they don't know why they even try. Why even try? Ha-ha. Ha.

But the effort means something.]

Y-yeah. I guess I'm...afraid to even pretend that she might...

[It's pie. It's butterscotch and cinnamon and Home and Mom and warm flames stirring up ash in the hearth and playfully crinkling through red leaves and a smell that reminds Asgore of his wife and his child.

It's a reminder that Toriel doesn't and probably won't ever trust them. Not while she's from that horrible mistake of a timeline.

Frisk sniffs again, scrubs at their nose with their sleeve.]

I - it's stupid. I should be happy. I'm glad you have your mom back, Chara.

[Can't hold onto your hopes effortlessly every time. Sometimes even just hoping is an intimidating prospect. If you expect nothing, you won't be disappointed when that's exactly what you keep getting.

...It worries them. It's not... this isn't how it's supposed to be.]

What about you, Frisk? I've had all the time in the world to adjust. I stopped needing love a long time ago. But you...

[They're the one who said they miss Toriel. They're the one who can call her Mom and have it be the most effortless, right thing in the entire world. They're the one who can feel like they actually belong after just... just a day, the same day looping over and over.]

I think it'd be really weird if you were happy, actually. I'd be kinda unnerved if you were happy.

No. It's not about me.

[Keep telling themselves that, hah. They shake their head once, even if their heart's not really in it. They die. They come back. Things change. Nothing stays the same in Wonderland, not like it did Underground. Things are allowed to exist outside of perpetual stasis. It's in their nature.]

You need love, too. And you...you finally have it. I mean, I, I love you, you know that, but - she loves you too. She always will, no matter what.

[The smile hurts, a peaked, weak, uncertain thing.]

Besides. It's about time I started paying attention to the consequences, right?

["I love you" feels like the last thing they'd ever call themselves ready to hear. They look... a little devastated? It's alarming enough, to be faced with a tsunami of unconditional love and forgiveness that feels... that feels too good to even be real? The idea that Frisk could possibly love them when they're actively hurting Frisk now, when it's their fault Frisk is being deprived of something they need...? It's too scary. It's more than Chara can take.

They swallow. Decide not to think about it. Keep it at arm's length.]

This isn't justice. This isn't fair or balanced. This is... this is just you being a scapegoat for what I did.

[It feels... ingrateful, somehow? They have love! Love's supposed to fix it! They should be happy! But... different standards being applied to them. Being an exception. It still... they're not above consequences, either.]

I'm making it about you, Frisk. We're... partners, aren't we? It's not right if one of us gets all the good and one of us gets all the bad. I don't need love, and I especially don't need it if I'm just stealing it away from you. You don't... have to pretend to be happy for my sake. It won't make this make sense, or feel better, or... or whatever.

You're not stealing. You're...

["You were there first," they want to say. But that's first-grader logic. And it doesn't mean anything.]

What would you have instead, then? You being the scapegoat instead of me?

[Frisk shakes their head ruefully.]

My actions have consequences. I...have to accept that. Everyone else is still my friend, even after I told them what I did. I should've - I should've expected this. You need someone too.

I don't need anyone!

[They snap it, and feel stupid the very second they do so. They're still just parroting someone else, but that just makes it even dumber, because when Asriel said it, he didn't mean it at all. They do. They... hm.

They're just... arguing, aren't they? Turning it into a fight instead of helping. They bite their lip, twist the ends of their sleeves.]

This... this wasn't...

[What they wanted?

But the end won't really be the end. They'll get past Sans, they'll bring the consequences crashing down around their partner. If even that isn't enough, if even that won't stop the loops... then they'll claim something, and they'll steal that happy ending away from Frisk for good.

They twist their sleeves harder, tug and scrunch the fabric like they wish it was their own skin instead.]

...You're just a kid, and your mom hurt you.

You're just a kid. And I hurt her too.

[They should've expected that kind of reaction. And maybe a part of them did, because they hardly flinch, or react much at all. Just pluck idly at the edge of their sheets. They've been sleeping, and just generally been horizontal, more than they tend to usually. It's strange how exhausting that can be.]

She has a right to be mad. She has a right to be hurt, or scared, or angry, or whatever.

[Morbidly, they again can't help but wonder which horrible death they inflicted upon her. The one where they spared her until the last moment, or the one where they simply cut her down? They could probably ask. It's not like they could damage their relationship with Toriel any further.]

...She does.

[Would be stupid to pretend otherwise. It makes this harder. Adds one more thing to feel guilty over. They shift their weight a little, look at Frisk. Hesitate. Seems like the more they let themselves care, the more they hesitate. They're not sure that's a good thing. They sort of miss the unattached momentum, miss behind held back by nothing at all. Wouldn't have to feel guilty if they had never let themselves care about anyone.]

And you? Are you hurt, scared, angry?

[Frisk smiles, sad and halfhearted.]

Does it matter? We're good at pretending otherwise.

[Flat expression, or an insincere, serene smile. Either way, emotions get blanketed under that mask, and everyone can go on and pretend like everything's all right even if it's not, really.]

I'm the one with the special power. I'm the one who has to deal with the consequences, right?

[Does it matter? Anger, they know, is bad. Do they have the right to be sad if this is what they deserve? They fight with Frisk, they say they're relieved Frisk got angry, but they cannot begin to articulate why. They still don't know if they're encouraging something wrong.]

It matters to me.

[Whether that makes it important or good or... whatever, they're not so sure.]

We're the ones with the special power. The first bit of guidance this world supplied to me... you understand it, do you not?

[Maybe it would hurt to admit it to anyone else. Chara...Chara's their friend. Chara knows what it's like to be in their head more than anyone. Ha, literally. It matters to them. It matters to them if Frisk is happy or sad or dying or dead, even if they'll still insist that nothing really matters, except when it does.]

Wouldn't this have happened anyway, eventually? Any one of the monsters from our world - they could've all been from one of those times. They could've all hated me, and they'd've all been right to.

[It hurts.

It's supposed to.]

You have your mom back. That's what's important.

That doesn't mean...

[They're supposed to be good with words. Always talking. Persuasive and cunning. Why are they struggling so much now?]

At least they'd have hated us both.

[That's not comforting.]

You... you missed her, not me. You're supposed to have someone safe too.

...Nobody else really knows what it was like when we were... us. If we both told her that I had total control, and you couldn't do anything... she'd believe it, maybe.

That's not true, though.

[Throwing Chara under the bus for the sake of pretending that everything's okay isn't a viable option either. They're not willing to pretend even to themselves that they can pin all the bad on Chara, that the Frisk they present to the world is always perfect and never regressed due to their own curiosity. That would be a lie.]

...it wouldn't work, anyway. She saw me cut her down. That doesn't just go away. You know that.

[For the same reason Sans had to ask before giving them a hug. The same reason they shudder at the memories of Papyrus's head leaving his body, or Undyne's eye flashing with a silvery spear-shaped light.]

Yeah. I know.

[Subdued, a little defeated. They... don't know what trying looks like, in this case. What they should be doing. They want to point out that they're prepared to suffer, that they've always accepted having nothing and nobody, that they practically revel in it. That it's okay if it's them. They've already erased themselves, right?

But... it's also kind of hypocrisy, isn't it? To tell Frisk not to accept this in the same breath they keep pushing that they're the one who should accept it. To tell Frisk that actions have consequences, then be so unhappy about the consequences being so different for the two of them.]

It just... you're the only reason I have any kind of future at all, right? I don't... want one you're left out of.

[Frisk smiles faintly, touched despite themselves. They sit up a little straighter, and draw the plate closer to themselves. They don't have a fork, but that doesn't really matter. Not when they can tell a joke about a kid who ate pie with their bare hands.

Just...just to try it. They dip the tip of their pinky into the top of the filling, whisking off just a fraction of the stuff. It feels just like Toriel's pies should. Firm, but still gooey.

They don't even realize the heat prickling at the corners of their again when they taste it. Tastes like home. Tastes like Home. Tastes like a mistake that they're making, opening themselves up to inevitable disappointment like this.]

It doesn't mean that. It just means...I'll have to work a little harder to get that future, I guess.

...We. Right?

[They lay that thought down - we, not I, wonderful partners, together forever - but don't know how to follow it up. Tell Frisk that they gave Toriel the truth? That they tried and tried to lay down how vile they were, how the bad actions weren't a lost human child, but a soulless wraith imposing its will onto them. How she even knows about Alex and Undyne, and that's still not enough to make her realize which child deserves scorn.

But that... maybe that's cruel. Maybe it would just hurt to hear about all the things Chara got away with scot-free while Frisk has to suffer like this. Maybe Frisk wouldn't even believe them. Maybe Frisk just thinks Chara blamed them for the killings, because that's so much easier, right? Maybe they manipulated this entire situation exactly to their liking, forced Toriel to care about them and not Frisk with cunning lies. How can they call themselves on Frisk's side when things are like this?

Maybe they don't have the right to say anything at all.]

You don't... have to be so sickening about this. You don't have to be sunshine and hopes. You're actually mad at me, aren't you?

At you?

[Frisk glances up, unable to mask their shock. Chara might be adept at reading them most of the time, but they're not sure how much of that question has to do with expecting some kind of lashing out, being conditioned to retreat and hate themselves and blame themselves, because they must have made Toriel love them.

Frisk looks back at the pie, pictures it like the way it was in the worst timelines. Just a tool. A lifeless thing to be swallowed down at an opportune moment.

They consider whether they actually feel angry. But...no, not really. Not angry. Just not really very anything.]

No. Not...not you. I don't know if I'm even mad, to be honest. I'm just...tired.

[They don't know if they trust that. They can't imagine not feeling resentment, or envy, or... or anything like that. But maybe it makes sense, right? Good people don't get angry. Anger's evil.

Or maybe...]

Feeling nothing's a lot easier than feeling too much.

[Just tired. Just grey. Just kind of hollowed out. They sort of think that's supposed to be LOVE, too, but Frisk feels it without any EXP. They felt it when they were alive, when the only thing they ever actually managed to kill was... ha ha, you know the punchline by now. But at least it's not violent, fiery, consuming. At least it's sort of livable, for a while.]

I think we both know that.

[So just...shut it all down. Scrub it all out. If you don't feel anything, you don't get hurt. If you condition yourself to expect disappointment, you're never disappointed when it comes.]

But...no. I can't just blame you for everything that's happened. It's my fault too, right?

[They are, after all, partners.

It's only fair that they're both held accountable.]

Then why are you the only one getting punished?

Because...

[The words dry up on their tongue. Somehow, they can't think of a justification there. Not immediately.]

Because I - I think -

[* You think you deserve it.]

I think I need to own up to this. I'm not...I kept telling everyone the truth about, about how things went back home. And everyone said it was okay. They don't remember dying, except Papyrus.

Is what I'm doing not owning up, then?

Is it just... a one or the other kind of thing? Alphys, Undyne, Sans when he has enough energy to... they hate me. Maybe we can't both be loved at the same time.

[They know it's kind of a stupid answer. Papyrus exists, after all, and they still haven't figured out how to make him give up on them. But...]

Maybe it's the way it works. Nobody can get killed by someone and not be mad.

[It would explain, too, why Frisk can love everyone who killed them so much. Chara definitely hates all of them enough for both of them, right?]

They don't hate you.

[If they did, would Chara still be persisting, unambushed, as they have? Alphys...well, they'd all been pretty messed up that event. If what Frisk said and did is excusable, maybe that can extend to everyone.]

I think they just...don't know how to understand you just yet. It'll happen soon.

[They're deflecting. It's probably obvious.

They don't care.]

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