Can You Hear Me? *REWRITE*

Hall of Frame

"Would you MOVE your shiny metal ASS, you oversized toaster? Some of us NEED to use the bathroom!"

You woke with a start, the barely contained shouts of Undyne pulling you from your peaceful slumber. You glanced over at your bedside table clock and groaned. It wasn't early per say, but what a way to wake up.

"Sorry, darling, but fabulous takes time to reach perfection." Mettaton answered. The only fault in your cabins design—the bathrooms. There were only two full bathrooms, one on this floor and one in the master bedroom (plus another in the out cabin, but that didn't really count), and a half bathroom on the main floor, so that made claiming the space and showers a bit of a race. One Undyne had ultimately lost, apparently.

"You've been in here for TWO HOURS. We're on VACATION! No one cares if you've polished your chest plate!"

"Well, following that line of logic no one cares if your hair is a disaster, hm?"

"NGAAAAHHHHH!"

"NO UNDYNE! NO SPEARS IN THE HOUSE!" You poked your head out of your door, blearily watching Papyrus wrestle Undyne to keep her in a full nelson. She was practically foaming at the mouth, teeth bared, hair down and wild, a spear in each hand as she kicked at the closed bathroom door. He seemed to have the situation under control. At least you hoped he did, because there was no way you were getting in the middle of that. Your self preservation was stronger than your desire to see the bathroom door undamaged. Seeing Toriel making her way up the stairs was the final assurance you needed to retreat into your room.

The argument continued as you got changed, a mix between Undyne's vicious snarling, Papyrus' loud protests, and Toriel's soothing murmurs. Luckily you had the necessities in your room such as deodorant, so you could skip the bathroom until after breakfast. Er, brunch. By the time you were tying up your hair, the hall was silent. Exiting your room revealed all the doors but Papyrus' and Frisk's were closed, and no one was in the hall.

You ventured out, trotting down the hall and stairs. The sun was already high in the sky, bathing the living room in a sharp glow. You spotted Toriel in one of the large recliners, reading a book by the sunlight, Papyrus and Frisk out of sight, seemingly unaffected by the morning chaos.

"Good morning!" you chirped.

"Good morning, my child. How did you sleep?" Toriel answered, smiling as she looked up from her book.

"Can't complain, how about you?"

"I cannot complain either. If you are looking for breakfast, I made a fruit salad with ingredients I found in the kitchen. I hope you do not mind."

"Not at all! You're welcome to anything in the cabin." You shared a smile, keeping your expression soft and real before you continued your journey to the kitchen. You hopped she hadn't used the peaches. You'd planned to make a peach pie. As promised, the fruit salad was sitting on the counter, covered with a film of plastic wrap.

And she used the peaches. You bit back a sigh, frown tugging at your lips. It wasn't really her fault—it wasn't like you left a note or anything. You'd just have to make something else for dessert. You started on some eggs and filled a small bowl with fruit—a healthy start to what you were determined to make into a good day. Once finished, you cleaned up your dishes and headed for the stairs. You had the same idea as Toriel—a good book, some sun, and the hammock was calling your name. At least until something else came up.

You paused as you rounded the stairs, happening to glance down the side hallway that was little more than a divider wall that hid the doors to the master bedroom and half bathroom from the living room. It was a hall lined with photos, some framed and others not. What caught your eye though was Sans, who was slowly making his way down the hall, perusing the photos.