Chapter 2

Their Nighted Colour

The Hillsboro Retreat canteen was a dreary place in spite of the institution’s attempts to spruce it up with potted plants and colorful artwork on the walls. The walls were grey, the floor was grey, the tables were grey, the seats were grey, and most of the staff working there were grey as well. At all daytime hours there wafted from the kitchen a composite miasma of boiled vegetables and burnt fryer oil and cleaning compounds. Chara took their two scoops of chicken something-or-other and their plastic tumbler of iced tea without exchanging a glance with any of the cafeteria staff or speaking any words beyond a muttered “thanks”, and marched to the furthest corner of the dining area to find a seat. Frisk followed Chara, promenading across the dining room bearing a tray piled high with sweets and a carton of chocolate milk in one hand, flourishing their cane in the other as though they were a Victorian gentleman out for a postprandial stroll. It was well past noon but there were still a few other patients eating their lunches, some huddled in their seats alone, some accompanied with family and friends. Frisk’s ostentatious passage drew some quizzical looks, all of which Frisk greeted with a sunny smile. Chara sat in their corner, prodding their bland chicken bits with a plastic fork and watching Frisk as they approached them and took the chair opposite.

“How can you do that?” Chara asked as Frisk settled into their seat and began nibbling on an apple fritter.

“Eat all this?” Frisk nodded downward at the heap of pastries. “I guess I’m just blessed with that sort of metabolism. I never gain a lick of weight.”

“No, not the desserts! I mean…” Chara lowered their voice, not wanting to attract any more attention. “I just don’t understand how you can handle being stared at so well. Whenever any other humans stare at me I want to stuff a napkin down their throats.”

“Does your therapist know about this violent impulse?”

“Yeah. I tell him I want to stuff a napkin down his throat all the time. These days it just makes him smile. He doesn’t think I really mean it, the idealistic hippie.”

“Pfft, I could’ve told him that.”

“I do too mean it! Well, sort of.” Chara sighed and sank a little lower in their chair. “If I could only figure out a way to stuff a napkin down a human’s throat without actually hurting them, then I’d be set.”

“That’s sort of what I’ve ended up doing,” said Frisk, finishing their apple fritter and washing the last bite down with a swig of chocolate milk. “Chara...after twelve years of getting shoved into dingy bedrooms and locked bathrooms and walk-in closets so that the world would never see what a weirdo I was, suddenly I was pushed into the light for all mankind to see.” Frisk giggled before starting in on a cheese Danish. “Ambassador Frisk Dreemurr, official diplomatic representative of the Kingdom of the Monsters! Or rather a short, weedy, androgynous tween with shaggy hair and a horrible stutter and who called a six-foot-tall goat creature ‘Mom’. I had to learn how to take getting stared at.” Frisk shook their head a little, their face clouded with some troubling memory. “The only way that worked was to stare right back at them. To own my weirdness, and learn to revel in it. To stuff that down their throats, and smile as I did it.”

Chara smirked at Frisk's last sentence. “See, when you put it that way, it does sound a bit more my style.” The smirk faded. “Still, hiding in a bedroom or a closet seems real damn appealing to me right now.”

“You can, if you want. Once you’re out of this place, you’ve got no obligations to anybody outside of your family. Nobody on the outside even knows who you are aside from Mom and Fluffybuns and a handful of other old monsters. If you really want to do nothing for the rest of your life but find a place to hide from the world and never have to deal with another human again, even me…” Frisk rested their hand gently atop Chara’s. “None of us will blame you, not after everything you’ve endured. As far as I’m concerned, as far as Mom is concerned...you’ve earned as much retirement as you want to take. But.” Frisk withdrew their hand and fixed Chara with a determined glare. “You do have one duty that you can’t hide from and that’s your duty to Asriel.”

“Asriel.” Chara pushed their half-finished lunch away from them, grimacing at it. Longing to grasp their old companion by the paw again and to gaze into his smiling face assailed Chara, and without thinking his fingers felt for the locket that was not there. But it won't be the same face any more, will it? Chara reminded themself. Frisk had already warned them that Asriel would look older, and that the drugs he needed to stabilize his mood had altered his behavior and given him vexing side-effects. Chara shivered at the thought of a spent, dead-eyed shell of an Asriel appearing before them. “Frisk…will Azzy be…you tell me that he’ll be happy to see me but…what if it doesn't happen, what if he's never happy again—“

“Chara. Calm yourself. Shh…” Frisk touched Chara's hand again, this time stroking the back of it gently, tracing their fingertips along the valleys between Chara's knuckles. It was a gesture that Frisk had learned from Asriel, who had found in the old days that it would help soothe his agitated foster-sibling when they were in a mood. It was a little strange to Chara, even uncanny, to receive from their new human friend this echo of Asriel's affection, and the first time Frisk had asked them permission to touch them in that manner Chara’s immediate reaction was to recoil. But soon they had reconciled themself to the gesture. It was too pleasant to reject.

“Chara,” Frisk said again. “Look…I can't promise any miracles. At least you had all those months in my head to acclimate you a bit. For Asriel though…it was all at once. For the first few days after I brought him back he was…” Frisk shook his head. Their fingers continued their gentle ministrations to Chara's hand. “I'm not gonna go there right now. Point is, Chara…it's been a struggle for Asriel, wrestling with the demons in his head. Maybe he’ll be struggling the rest of his life. I can't promise you that, even with your help, it’ll ever end.”

Chara closed their eyes, trembling with suppressed emotion. “Does he resent me now? Is that it? I know I would.”

“Don't say that! Chara, in the months I’ve spent with Asriel I’ve never heard him say one word of blame about you. Ever. Chara, please.” Frisk stopped caressing Chara's hand, instead grasping it firmly. “Stop trying to talk yourself out of this. Damn it, Chara, Asriel loves you.”

Chara's cheeks burned with embarrassment and shame. “Don't say that word,” they muttered.

“What, the l-word? I shouldn't say lllurv?”

“I'm not kidding!” Chara barked out. A couple of nearby heads turned in their direction but they turned back when Chara glowered at them with reddish eyes ablaze. “It's…you shouldn't…” Chara was shaking now with the effort of keeping their voice in control. “Just because you love someone, even if you love them more than you’ve ever loved anyone…it doesn't stop you from hurting them. From wanting to hurt them.”

“Chara,” Frisk said, “I honestly don’t think Asriel has any thoughts about wanting to hurt you.”

“I don’t mean Asriel,” Chara hissed.

Frisk gave Chara’s hand a gentle squeeze. “I guess you don’t. Look, um...I’m done eating. Do you want to finish your chicken?”

Chara poked disgustedly at the sludgy, cooling remains of their meal. “No, I’ve lost what little appetite I had.”

Frisk let go Chara’s hand and stood, gathering up their lunchroom trays and glancing about them. “I’ll take you back to your room then. I hope you’ll forgive me for bringing up—”

“You haven’t done anything wrong,” Chara muttered.

“All the same.” Frisk gave Chara what they hoped was a comforting smile. “Want to go back to your quarters?”

Chara rose from their seat and permitted Frisk to lead them out of the cafeteria, convulsively grasping Frisk’s hand and keeping their eyes fixed on the linoleum floor.

---

The moment the door to their room closed behind them Chara let go Frisk’s hand and flung their arms around Frisk’s body, burying their face in Frisk’s shirt. Frisk returned the embrace, hands tentatively patting Chara’s back.

“Chara, everything is going to be okay—”

“How can you say that!” Chara screwed their eyes shut and gritted their teeth but they could not prevent the hot, shameful tears from welling up in their eyes. “I’m afraid, Frisk. I’m so afraid!”

Frisk’s whisper was soft in Chara’s ear. “What frightens you, Chara?”

“Trying to do the right thing! I’ve never done this without you. I’m afraid I can’t do this without you!” Chara cried into Frisk’s shoulder. “I miss your soul, Frisk, your stupidly kind and patient soul that’s never guided you wrong. Can you imagine how that felt to me, being able to share in that? I don’t trust my own soul. My soul sucks.”

“You can’t say that! You’ve only had it a month.”

“The first thing I did with it is break your leg and almost break your face.”

“Will you stop dwelling on that? You were confused, frightened. Your first emotion was anger that I’d abandoned you. And...I sort of deserved it.” Frisk rubbed Chara’s back, slumping their head against Chara’s shoulder. “I should’ve gone back to look for you years ago, Chara. I’d had no idea...I’m really, really sorry.”

“Hey, cut that out. Whose pity party is this?” Chara managed a cracked laugh, then sank back into gloom. “I’m going to hurt Azzy again, Frisk. I just know I will. You make him sound so fragile now, and I’ve only just learned how to make a few minutes of polite conversation without baring my teeth and going for the nearest leg.”

“I’ll be here when Asriel comes to visit. If you feel the sudden urge to chew on someone’s ankle you can always have a go at mine. I won’t complain too much.” Frisk chuckled, then grew serious. “Chara, if you’re having serious second thoughts about whether you’re ready to see Asriel today, please don’t feel bad about it. Maybe I’ve been leaning on you too hard about this. I tell him you’re still indisposed and need more time to recover.”

“No. Don’t do that.” Chara pulled away from the hug so they could look Frisk in the face. “Go home and tell him I’m ready. I can do this. Somehow. I want to see Azzy so bad...I’ll take my chances.”

“You’re absolutely sure about this, Chara?”

Chara paused for a second, biting their lower lip, then nodded, defiance in their eyes. “Yeah. Go tell the big dork I’m all better now and ready to see him.” They glanced at the clock. “Let’s say, four o’clock. Give me a call first so I know you’re on your way.”

Frisk smiled and gave Chara another quick hug. “I’m glad to hear it. Asriel will be thrilled, I promise you.”

Chara responded with the ghost of a smile in return. “You’ll be here too?” They touched Frisk’s arm. “Please?”

“Of course, Chara! You don’t even have to ask. Do you want Mom to accompany us as well?”

Chara glanced at the clock again. “She must be busy, surely? It’s a school day.”

“Mom can make up some excuse for the sake of her family, I’m sure. She’ll come running for you, any hour of the day, you know that.”

“Yeah. I know.” Chara’s eyes dimmed with sudden nostalgia. “I’d feel bad about messing up her work. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay, Chara. Just Asriel and me then, four o’clock.”

Chara drew a steadying breath, rubbing nervous hands through their hair. “Then beat it. I need some time to myself now. And don’t forget to call first, just in case I decided to have a meltdown between now and four.”

“I won’t forget.” Frisk gave Chara’s hand one last comforting stroke of their fingers. “Take care, huh? You’ll do fine.”

“Yeah, sure. Now scram, Frisk.”

Frisk sauntered to the door and turned just before exiting. “I love you too, Chara.”

“Would you just get out of here already?” Chara tossed a pillow at Frisk’s head.

“Of course.” With a final saccharine grin and a wave of their cane, their savior was gone.