Under Water 2: The Red Harren [completed]

XXVI

Edith's POV:

The three of us sat around in the living room. I nervously fiddled with my hands, avoiding eye contact with either of them. I could hear the wind hitting the house, the noise from the nearby park, and the clock ticking in the living room.

"So, your real name is Edith?" Sans asked, trying to ease the tension.

"Y-Yes," I replied, feeling overwhelmingly anxious to see their reaction, "My real name is Edith. I-I didn't tell the truth because--because I didn't know if I could trust you all. W-With our family history, I didn't feel safe. In fact, I don't think I will ever feel safe with everything that has happened. . ."

Sans nodded, and Frisk just stared at me, eyeing me up like she didn't know me.

"Why should we trust you, then?" She asked suddenly.

I felt surprised that that was her reaction, and so was Sans, since he gave her a weird look.

"Well?" She waited for an answer, "You two seem to know each other quite well."

"Error?" I huffed and sat back, crossing my arms, "You think I know him well?"

"He seems to know you well, Edith," Every word Frisk spoke was laced with an unforgiving venom.

I sat up and leaned forward, "You want to know why I know him? Why we seem familiar? Because he took my dad away from me and my mom. He tricked him into working with him, and last night, in a dream, I saw him, and it was too real for my stupid brain to think up, I saw him, and he didn't even care! He's working for the man that took him away from his family! And I hate him! I hate Error, and he's terrorizing me by just freaking being there!"

I tried to not snap, but I was too far gone to control myself, "So if you think I would ever even dream of partnering with him, then you must have a really twisted mind! I'm just about done being used against my family, and myself! So, there you go. That's why I know him."

I sat down from standing up, trying to calm myself down.

"I'm sorry he did that to you. . ." Frisk sounded sincere all of a sudden, "He's taken something from everyone, eh?"

"Yeah. He has."

The room fell into a silence. We were all reminiscing now. Over what he had taken from us.

"I think I may be cursed," I said out of the blue, even frightening myself a little bit.

"Why do you think that?" Sans was once again the person to talk first.

"I keep on having this nightmare where a Sans stands over me in my bed, as a child, and puts a hand on my forehead. I see that he's using magic based on the way his eye glows. It's confused me every time I've had it, and I've never felt the need to discuss it with anyone. Until now."

Frisk and Sans exchanged a look, "What does that Sans look like?" They asked in unison.

"He looks like he's melting, and his right eye is always lit up like he's constantly ready for a battle or ready to attack."

"Nightmare," Frisk whispered under her breath.

"Nightmare?" I repeated.

"Nightmare is an alternate Sans, and he's. . ." She shivered.

"He tried to kill her," Sans said, anger flaring in his tone.

I felt my face go pale, "Oh." And then I frowned.

"He must have done something, then. I can't just be remembering this for no reason. I can't just be talking about this now for no reason. There has to be a reason. There has to be."

I stood up and starting pacing, really thinking about this.

"He's trying to do something. One of them are. How many attacks have there been? Did he say anything when he attempted to kill you, Frisk?"

She shook her head, "I wouldn't know. The spell Sans used to make sure that I didn't die caused me amnesia, which is only slowly wearing off. Technically fractured memory, at this point, but I. . . I just don't remember. Sans, do you remember anything?"

He shook his head, "He mentioned a grand plan, but I can't remember much, either. I was too panicked. I've blocked it from my mind, truthfully."

I nodded swiftly, "He's planning something. Maybe both of them, maybe one of them, or both of them are planning something separate and are just working together for their greater good."

I was getting looks from both of them, "Wouldn't someone of caught on by now? Someone like. . . Ink? Or Dream?"

I stopped pacing. "Yeah. You have a point. Where are they?"

"Well, I suppose just on time," I recognized that voice and turned around to see Ink.

And my mom?