Unrequited LOVE

•Chapter 40•

You're back in the void, sitting on the ground. Frisk sits beside you, wringing their small hands.

You did it, they say.

You smile wryly. We did it.

If you say so... are you going back...?

You tilt your head. Come again?

They look away, face twisted with sadness. Are you going back? To them?

Oh.

I am. Your voice is firm, yet kind. For some reason, Frisk looks even sadder at your declaration. How can I not?

Their golden eyes are more shadowed than you've ever seen them. I won't stop you, but I will miss you.

Guilt pulls at your SOUL. Me too, Frisk... does this mean I won't see you again?

They sigh. Probably not, I've moved on.

How so?  You ask, even though you already know the answer

I'm a ghost, and even ghosts move on... to wherever they go. Frisk looks like they're about to cry.

Wordlessly, you wrap your arms around them, holding them to your chest. Frisk's body quivers as they begin to cry, deep sobs wracking their tiny, purple-and-blue striped frame. Shh, it's alright.

I'm so sorry! They bawl. I didn't mean to...!

I know you didn't, you coo, it's going to be just fine. Just breathe.

They don't respond, face buried in the softness of your torn shirt. The fabric wettens, clammily sticking to your skin as you comfort them.

Don't cry, no one's mad at you.

The crying begins to cease, but you still hold them tight, waves of homey-comfort pouring from you SOUL.

Everything is fine. This is fine.

T-Thank you, Frisk murmurs into your chest. I'm sorry for-

No, you interrupt, don't apologize.

...I have to go now.

They hug you tighter, clinging to the meager warmth you provide. SOUL clenching, you return the gesture, even as their body crumples away. Fine, granulated dust coats your top half, but you can't bring yourself to care.

They needed you, and you delivered.

Sleep well, my child.

***

Thump.

Warmth.

Thump. Thump.

Safety.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Your eyes slowly blink open. Black, teal-ringed walls surround you on all sides, dark, yet comforting.

Nightmare's castle, you realize blearily. There's only one being in the multiverse who'd enjoy such a color scheme.

Another look around the room reveals that you're lying in a large platform bed, complete with gothic-looking curtains. It occurs to you that you've never been in this room before.

I wonder who it belongs to...

When you look down at yourself, however, the mood shifts. You're shirtless, thick white bandages wrapped around the entire expanse of your chest. Your left wing is also bandaged, nestled snugly within the blankets.