Reunitedtale

V

(Asriel's view)

Asriel rubbed his eyes, yawning. I'm so tired, he thought sleepily, but his parents were calling him and shaking him quite a bit.

* Asriel, dear, wake up!

That sounds like Mom, he thought. But . . . is she . . . crying? He struggled to pull his consciousness up, to get past the dark webs of sleep that seemed slightly more sinister than just innocent sleep. But he didn't suspect anything. After all, why would he?

* Son, wake up.

That sounds like Dad. I—I really do have to wake up, quickly. He sounds like he's crying, too. Strange. Asriel reeled his consciousness in from the snares of the sticky darkness and then opened his eyes to a barrage of images, sounds, light—and blackness. Asriel sat up, wincing when the blood rushed down and left him staggeringly dizzy. Then his vision adjusted and he saw something strange. There was his best friend, his sibling, laying on the floor. With a large, black wound, almost like they were slashed, across their back. A black heart hovered above it—their soul, one of hatred. But—but Chara's dead. I buried them. He realized he could feel his body—more specifically, his arms and his legs. And—and I'm a monster again. I'm not a flower anymore. I'm not Flowey. I—I have a soul. Then his eyes widened as he realized what Chara must have done.

They—they sacrificed themself, for us. For monsterkind, the race that they preferred so much over humanity. Tears leaked out of his eyes, leaving a trail of wet fur on either side of his eyes.

* Mom? Dad?

he asked shakily.

They looked at him, giving him permission to go on.

* I . . .

* I . . .

He couldn't continue the sentence. He broke down into violent, racking sobs, and his parents enveloped him in a hug, trying to comfort him. The grief opened up in Asriel a huge, Chara-shaped hole, one that he felt was big and ever-widening, that he would fall through. There was nothing but blackness in the hole, one that he knew all too well, and the floor he was standing on was crumbling. But there was the reassuring touch of his parents, the warmth that kept him rooted safely on the stable ground of a place far away from the dark, dark hole.

His parents whispered to him, soothing him with gentle, slow circles on his back and the warmth of the hug,

* We know, son. We know, and we feel the same.

And his sobs slowly subsided to sniffles. He turned out of the embrace—though it did feel quite good—and turned to his best friend and sibling. He kneeled down, placing a (slightly wet) paw on the blackened, sticky back.

* I don't know why you have so much hatred in you, Chara,

he said, his voice trembling like a leaf in the wind, or one clinging on to the branch of an old, blackened tree,

* But I want you to know that I'm here.

Tears fell on the body. The black, where the tears hit, turned clear, slowly dissipating, as if the hatred could feel the force of Asriel's love and was submitting to it.

* And that I care about you very much.

The black disappeared completely as the tears continued, but Asriel carried on with his speech, oblivious as he cried.

* And that I'll always—always—remember you.

The wound sealed miraculously, and the black soul that had been hovering above the body slowly turned a bright, vivid red.