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I guess... [She runs a finger along her cheekbone, for a moment lost in thought.] What you're feeling? And if there's anything I can do.

Nothing, really.

[They're not doing a good job of explaining, are they? "Nothing" isn't the same as "it's okay," or "it's fine," or "I'll live." It just means...nothing. The days pass in an idle blur. Everything has slogged together into the same awful slurry, until they can no longer pick the hours that they're awake from the ones where they aren't.]

[So, nothing.]

[She looks down. Once again she doesn't know what to say or do. Maybe that's why she put this off for so long.

But it's not about her. It's about Frisk. And if they're not feeling anything at all, then maybe she can make them feel something over tea. A little bit of lightness. Not even happiness- she doubts she could manage that- but just feel a little like the weight has eased.

She sits at the table and fiddles with her tea.]

You know when I first... uh. Do you... do you mind if I talk about Chara for a bit?

...okay.

[She was always going to talk about it. No one else really has, but they said that they would be here, to talk about stuff like that if she ever wanted. And now she does - it'd be cruel to turn her down.]

[She wants to talk about them.]

[She should be allowed to.]

[The slight hesitation there makes Max pause. By now she thinks she knows enough about Frisk to guess what's going on. They do have that streak of just... agreeing to whatever she says.]

...Is it really? It's okay to say no.

I said I’d be here. If you wanted to talk.

[It seems rude to renege on that promise now. They can’t say they’ve ever done much for you, Partner, but at least they can do this. They can try and be better than they ever were for you. They can try and keep promises, for once. ]

[Better late than never.]

...

[Max feels a little pang in her chest as she hears those words. That's definitely not how she wanted that promise to be used.]

I only wanna talk if you actually want to hear it, Frisk. It's just... when Chloe left I had no one to talk to about it, and...

[She shrugs.]

And I don't want you to feel the same way.

[So she wants to talk about them. That's all right. Everyone wants to, in some way or another, though they don't say it aloud. It's all in the way they look at them. Like they're fragile. Like they might break, any second, as soon as they're mentioned.]

It's okay. You can...

It's okay.

[Max regards them with worry, before glancing aside and deciding to press on. She wraps her fingers around the hot cup of tea.]

When I first arrived they threatened me with a knife.

[She smiles a little.]

I think they wanted to scare me. And I was freaked the hell out.

They tried to scare most people.

[Tried. Past tense. They still would try, even when the intensity of their arrival eased, but - not anymore. They can’t anynore. They can’t do anything anymore but wait, the unlit porch light flickering for someone to come home. ]

[Max nods in agreement. It was pretty integral to Chara's character.]

Then we had that whole nutso incident. You know? I can hardly even remember why they were mad at me.

[But the memory of standing in that patch of flower, painfully aware of how her life was on the line, is very clear. She shakes her head almost in amusement.]

It was like some sort of... friendship rite of passage.

They were mad at the world.

[She just happened to be in it, the same way Frisk was. Complicit in the way everything twisted a child beyond recognition and fashioned them into the demon they claimed they were. Breathing life into something terrible, and complaining when it does exactly as you asked.]

[Max lets that sit for a moment. She weighs her words carefully, keenly aware that she can't rewind her way out of a bad situation.]

...Not so much in their last few months, I think.

[A vague little shrug of their shoulders. They wouldn't know, really. They didn't talk so much, then. Not enough to tell what was coming, if that was even possible. Not enough to say everything, anything, that truly mattered before they disappeared forever.]

I don't know. [You never realize how much you've never asked someone until they're gone.]

[You just assumed they'd be there forever.]

I never really knew enough.

...Really? [It takes Max by surprise. Chara and Frisk always seemed like they knew everything about each other. Even when they didn't.] You probably did- do. You just don't realize it.

I should have.

[It's not until someone disappears that you realize how little you knew. How much more they should have asked. Were they really happy here? Was there anything Frisk could be doing better? What do you want to do today, Chara?]

[Big kids don't cry. But there's an itch in the back of their throat and a stinging in their eyes that they can't escape.]

I should have asked more.

Just cuz you didn't ask... doesn't mean you didn't know. [But she's not going to push that point further. She thinks she understands where Frisk is coming from- the feeling of disappointment in themself.] Chara... might not have liked you asking, anyway.

[She sighs.]

You're a good friend, Frisk. A great friend. Chara knew that.

[...]

[They've forgotten about the tea.]

[They take to spooning the loose leaves into the strainer, heating the water in the kettle. The ritual should be soothing. Instead, it's just reminiscent of things they should never have allowed to come to pass.]

They won't know anymore.

[Max stares down at her own drink, feeling blood drain from her face. She remembers all those things Chara used to say, things about being the demon that comes when you call its name. Through hints dropped here and there, and over time, it became quite clear that... Chara wasn't all that... alive back home. Not in the normal sense of alive.]

...But they did, while they were here... And that's kind of the point, right? The point of all of this.

They won’t remember. They could come back today, and they’d never know.

[They’d never know how much you loved me. Even if they never wanted to hear them call it love, because love is painful and horrifying and something people have always perverted for their own gain, turned into something ugly, meant to hurt.]

[But I loved you all the same.]

[Max twists her fingers together. She wishes she could reach out and hold Frisk's hands in her own, find some little way to comfort them. But she remembers how they shy away at such things.]

That doesn't change how good you were to them. For them. And if they ever come back, even if they don't remember... you can show them again.

[She looks up at them, pained to see they way they look.]

I think you two will always be... good for each other.

Is that why they felt like they ruined me?

[They could never really convince them otherwise. They could never...]

[It was always what Chara had done to poison them, to diminish them, to make them less "Frisk," as if that were a crime - as if that were a thing that Chara themself was responsible for, and not something that Frisk themself had committed to at every turn, at every moment, at every ruthless opportunity.]

...Did they?

[Her voice is small at such a dangerous question. But she doesn't believe for a moment that Chara "ruined" Frisk. Nor does she believe that Frisk is "ruined" at all.

Frisk's a person. People get hurt and scared and angry- but ruined is so... Impersonal.]

Every bad thing I've ever thought. Every bad thing I've ever felt. It was always their fault. Had to be.

[A slight bang. They set down the canister of tea leaves with more than the requisite force, until it clanks louder than it should. Too loud. That's not...they can't be that. They can't become the sort of person that throws things, that clatters pans in the sink and shatters plates against the tile.]

[Stand back. Away. Breathe.]

I could never...really change their mind.

[Max doesn't know what to say for a moment, starting a little at the clang of the canister. She twists her fingers, keenly aware of the stress and tension building up in Frisk. She looks at them with the tiniest of smiles, trying to be comforting, in a way.]

...That sounds a little like you. You two were... are always a little too hard on yourselves. You know...?

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