Chapter Text
Frisk is peeking over the counter, eyes just barely open and glittery. You can feel their tummy rumble at the sight of the birthday cake. It's beautiful, of course- Mom spared no expense or effort. It was three tiered, towering over your head on the high counter and a bright, shiny cherry-red, Frisk's favourite. Snow white frosting and lilac fondant polka dots. The inside was funfetti, not chocolate, so you weren't all that interested, but Frisk looked like they were going to explode, hands folded on the counter under their chin.
"You should just, like, jab your finger in the frosting," you suggest. "No one would know."
They roll your eyes and snort.
"Okay, well, sure, they'd notice, yeah, but I mean, it's your birthday, right? It's not like anyone's going to get mad at you."
Frisk huffs and gives the cake one last longing stare before pushing off the counter. You pout. The frosting looked good, at least.
"heya, kiddo, who ya talkin' to?"
You both freeze, hands clenching. Oh no, not him.
"Nobody!" Frisk says hastily. "Only me." Sans snorts. He doesn't believe you, but he's too lazy to push the subject. He sidles over to look at Toriel's cake with you.
"sure is pretty, huh?" he says, folding his hands in his front pockets. Frisk nods excitedly. "you weren't thinking of sneaking a taste, were you...?"
"No!" you burst, flushing red. You can feel Frisk's frustration at you and back off again.
"Hungry," Frisk says, and Sans smiles. Or, he was already smiling, but it reaches his eyes. You've never liked him, even if Frisk does.
"well, eat somethin' a little more substantial then, huh? whaddaya want?" he opens the fridge and Frisk bounces to his side to look in with him. You resist the urge to groan.
Frisk hums thoughtfully, then points at the pizza box in the back.
"alrighty," Sans says, tugging it free and popping open the microwave. Frisk does a twirl on the linoleum floor while Sans reheats them a slice of pizza, watching the frills of their creamsicle-orange party dress flounce with the motion. You want to gag.
Frisk stops and pouts. You can pick our outfit tomorrow, they think at you. That seems fair, but you still want to complain about it. All this birthday stuff is kid's stuff and you don't like it. The microwave dings and Sans grabs a plate from the cabinet.
"excited for the party?" he asks, setting it on the counter and going to retrieve your stool. Frisk nods enthusiastically.
"Dad," they say, succinctly, between bites. Sans frowns, with his eyes.
"yeah, he is coming, isn't he? we'll see how that goes, i guess."
Frisk shrugs.
"Think he and Mom'll get in a fight?" you ask, Frisk frowns.
"not on your birthday," Sans laughs, then pauses. "Not in front of you on your birthday."
Frisk nibbles thoughtfully on the pizza slice, and you kind of wish it had been pepperoni instead of just cheese, but they let you kick your legs under the counter back and forth against the stool as a consolation. You're grateful.
There's a knock at the door.
"yeah, that'll be alphy'n undyne, then," Sans says, leaning away from the counter. You and Frisk continue to work on the pizza slice while Sans answers the door to let your first guests in. Frisk lets you finish the pizza slice with a big chomp, because you were always a more decisive eater, and then hops off the stool to go bury Alphys in a hug. You pretty much take a backseat from here on out. These are their friends, not yours, and you're not invested enough in this party to participate OR ruin it.
Until Mom cuts the cake and you see that the second tier is made out of chocolate. You're nearly unable to stop yourself from grabbing it with your bare hands, and when you jerk like a marionette people stare. You're embarrassed, for once, and go back to being quiet, letting Frisk have their stupid day. Undyne gets them a huge sword and Alphys gets them a chemistry set, which you begrudgingly admit is actually kind of cool. Another pet rock from Sans and another cookbook from Papyrus. Dad even comes and brings you a teacup, and Mom doesn't yell at him once that you see. It's all in all, a very run of the mill birthday. You're a little jealous.
It's only that night, after everyone's left, that Frisk turns their thoughts inward and asks if you're tired. You of course spent most of the day napping or lazing about so, no, you're not, and this seems to weirdly delight them, because they open your phone and call Sans.
"'sup, kiddo," he says from the other side. You can hear video game noises in the background.
"Sans," Frisk says. "Need favour. Gotta go somewhere. Cover for me?"
You listen curiously, and tug at their thoughts, but they're carefully quiet and mentally distant.
"where ya', uh, goin'?" he's trying to sound casual, but you'd have to be stupid to miss the tension in his voice.
"Can't say."
"is it important?"
"Yeah."
There's a moment of silence on the other end while he considers it, before sighing, "okay."
Frisk grins. "Thanks. See you soon."
"Where are we going?" you ask, but they ignore you and put their phone away, going to your room and grabbing your backpack. You're getting a little annoyed.
"Mom! I'm going to Sans's!" Frisk says and unceremoniously steps outside.
"Where are we going?!" you press, and they relent.
"Well, it's your birthday, too, so-"
"No, it's not."
"Do you remember when your real birthday is?"
"...No."
"Then it's your birthday, too. We've hung out with my friends all day, I thought maybe we could go hang out with yours."
"I don't have any friends."
You're walking along the sidewalk in the dim twilight. You know this is the way to the bus stop. Frisk pouts. "Not even me?"
You make a vague, noncommittal noise that seems to delight them.
"We're clearly not going to see you, though," you grumble, frustrated. "Where are we going?"
"We're going to see Asriel."
"What!" you yell, and immediately grab at the inside of your legs, stopping you both short. Frisk fights you, pushing one leg forward, while you focus on the other one, going back, and you both hit the ground with a shared "Oomph."
"Come on! It'll be fun! I bet he's lonely!" Frisk chides, but fuck that.
"No! I don't wanna see that crybaby!" You snarl and try to roll over. Frisk holds you still and you just sort of wave your arms wildly from the sidewalk.
"Yes you do! We literally share a soul, Chara, you totally do!"
"No!" You're whining now, petulant, but you can't help yourself.
"I bet he wants to see you, at least."
"I bet he doesn't. I got him killed. The only reason I'm dead is cuz he lied to me."
"He didn't lie to you."
"He said he's never doubt me!" You pound your fists against the ground and Frisk lets you have your tantrum. The prickling pain in your fists is familiar and grounds you.
"Chara, come on, you wanted to go on like, a rampage."
"Yeah, but, but. He said..."
You trail off, because there's guilt in you now. You really hate guilt. You never used to be guilty, and now this dumb kid made you feel it all the time, with their gentle reassurance you weren't a monster, that even you deserved mercy... It makes you sick.
"I bet he'd appreciate an apology."
You're quiet for a bit, and Frisk stands. "Do I have to on my birthday?" you say, hopefully.
"It's not your birthday," Frisk chuckles. "Oh, yeah, also, you can say one swear word and I won't get mad. Happy sort-of-birthday."
Frisk leans down, brushing you off and shouldering your backpack. You pause together, and take a deep breath, before going to the bus stop.
It's not a long trip, maybe an hour or so and night has fully set by the time you step out into it. It's a brisk walk up the parkway and through the treeline to where you know the entrance to Mt. Ebott is- the part you can walk through, without jumping. You've both had enough of falling down holes for awhile.
It's another long walk through the empty, quiet, echoing chasm to the ruins.
"Are you ready?" Frisk asks you, kindly, patiently, as always. You want to sneer, but that seems mean, and you'd promised to try being nicer, so instead, you sigh like it's a stupid question.
"Yeah, let's just get it over with," you mumble, and together you step into the room you both once fell in.
There's golden flowers peppering the room like spots, the light from the outside dim moonlight on the center pile. You both survey the flowers for a moment- not sure where to start looking.
"Asriel?" Frisk asks before you can. Their words echo off the walls. There's only silence, otherwise.
"Maybe he's dead," you suggest.
"Hush," says Frisk. You hear the tinkle of laughter in the distance.
"What," Asriel's taut, hateful voice says. "Didn't I tell you not to ever come back here? God, you're so stupid!"
Something slams into the back of your calves and knocks your legs out from under you. Your head smashes into the ground and you see stars, static rainbows that block out your vision.
"Lost your edge, huh?" is the last thing you hear before everything fades into darkness.