Chapter Text
"You know," Frisk starts, voice soft and thin, "we, we're kind of… if you think about it, we're…"
They get quieter and quieter, until their words are completely inaudible. Kris looks up from their phone, squinting at the younger teen. Frisk averts their gaze, face turning a bright shade of red.
"Never mind, forget I said anything."
Susie plants a hand on the top of their head, shaking them around to watch them stumble. "Speak up, tiny. We can't hear you."
Frisk reaches up and grabs her wrist, trying in vain to pry her hand off of their skull. "Oww! Susie, let go, that hurts!"
Susie's grip loosens for all of two seconds before she looks closer at their face and finds a smile there. Grinning, she drags them in and catches them in a headlock, dragging her knuckles through their hair as they holler dramatically.
Kris watches, stifling laughter.
"Stop! Stooop! Susie! Kris! Help me, please!"
They reach out for Kris, who laughs at the absurdity of it, "why?"
"It huuuurts!" They cry, clawing at her arm with their laughably blunt nails, "she's gonna rub me bald."
Susie lets them go, then, cackling as she gets a good look at their hair. They frown, kicking at the sidewalk.
Later, when Susie leaves to pick up Noelle, Kris realizes they never found out what started that exchange. They think it might have been important, if Frisk had been willing to suffer scales on their scalp to distract from it.
"What were you gonna say?"
Frisk peeks up at Kris through their dark curls, which are somehow even more unruly than usual now. Kris stares back, unphased by their big, wet eyes.
"When?"
"You know when."
Frisk shifts, rubbing their hands together and cringing.
"Do you have any–"
"Frisk."
"–hand cream, my hands are so–"
"Frisk."
"I was saying that…" they start to pull at their fingers, tucking their chin further, "that… well… since we have the same… um… aren't we… kind of siblings? Kind of?"
Kris's lips part in surprise, and Frisk turns a shade redder.
"I mean… if you… think about it… but you don't have to… think about it. If you don't want to. Sorry. That was weird."
Kris thinks about how uncannily like them Frisk looks, not for the first time. It feels a little bit like being a little kid again, wondering why none of their family looks like them.
Small, uncertain attempts at speaking leave Frisk's mouth, all aborted and half-formed, before Kris clears their throat.
"That was weird."
Frisk starts biting the skin off of their bottom lip, and Kris catches their jaw in an iron grip, squeezing until they look like a guppy.
"Stop."
"Owww."
"I'm not buying that. I've done worse than this to you before."
Frisk lets out a pathetic sound, sort of like a wounded dog. Kris starts swinging their face from side-to-side.
"What's wrong?"
"Let go of me!" The word 'of' doesn't sound right with their face squished like that, and it makes Kris laugh out loud.
When they sober, it's to Frisk's sad little face, red with embarrassment, and they try to form the words Frisk wants to hear. It doesn't work.
"Let's go to the festival," Kris says instead, and Frisk gives them that sweet, bright-eyed look again, reaching up to grab their wrist.
"Really?"
Kris hesitates, shaking their head one last time before letting go. "Yeah."
Frisk lets out a whoop at that, a toothy smile lighting up their entire face the instant it can.
Kris shoves them hard enough that they fall on the floor.
The festival is loud, bright, and busy.
Kris hasn't gone in recent years, faking sick a few days before to get out of it despite their mom being on the planning committee. If Toriel has caught on, her instincts to keep Kris safe have always overrode her knowledge.
Today, when she gives Kris a wristband at one of the entrances, her entire face lights up.
"Kris! You came this year!" Her wide smile falters a bit when she sees Frisk standing behind them.
Frisk gives her a tentative smile and it returns full force as she gives them a wristband too. "It is good to see you in better spirits today, Frisk."
They flinch a bit when she says their name, laughing softly, "yesterday was a hard day, m-ma'am. I'm really sorry if I seemed unappreciative."
Toriel gives them a considering look, and Kris wonders for a moment what's going on inside her head. She gives Kris some money for the festival, and when she turns to do the same for Frisk, she says, "you can call me mother, if you would like. I do not mind."
Immediately, Frisk glances at Kris, who keeps their face as neutral as humanly possible. Frisk's nose turns a bright red, redder even then they were earlier, and they manage to blubber out a soft "thank you" before grabbing Kris's arm and tugging them past. Kris looks back and Toriel's face is warm and fond, so they smile at her.
"I shouldn't do that, should I? That's your mom, not mine."
Kris doesn't say anything right away, thinking of what Frisk said the day before.
"Maybe you don't need to adjust, after all." Frisk slows to a stop, and Kris pointedly doesn't look down at them. "Do you like funnel cake?"
Quietly, so quietly Kris almost doesn't hear, Frisk whispers, "I like funnel cake."
Kris uses turns towards a stall with funnel cake, leveraging Frisk's grasp on their arm to lead them along. At the stall, they get two funnel cakes and Kris refuses to let Frisk pay for theirs, insisting that they should keep their money for games.
"Toriel gave us the same amount," Frisk pushes, and Kris scowls at them until they put the crumpled bills back in their pocket.
"I'm not playing any games. I can pay."
"I don't want to play alone," they pout, "please?"
Briefly, Kris wonders if this is how Asriel used to feel when they'd go together. Kris would beg him to play every single game with them, and pout if he said no. Something in Frisk's expression is a little sadder than that, though. A little bit lonelier. As if they're used to having no one play games with them.
"Do you have any siblings?"
Frisk tilts their head to the side, features loosening into confusion. "No? Why do you ask?"
There's an edge to their tone, something raw and vulnerable. Kris doesn't really want to pry with a festival raging around the two of them, but they have to know.
"Asriel's older than me. And even if you are… me? Where you come from, he'd be there." Kris glances away, and then meets their gaze again steadily. They're not prepared for how terrified Frisk looks.
"I-" they swallow, face losing all semblance of color, "I don't know if this is- I mean, if now is–"
Their eyes dart around wildly, and they look trapped, of all things. Kris understands, suddenly, why Frisk hasn't said anything about it. "Oh."
Frisk hiccups at the reaction, hands coming up to hang awkwardly in front of them. "I- I didn't know what to- how to- I mean, I don't know if–"
They cough, harshly, and Kris brings a hand up to pat their back.
"I don't even know if- If they- I mean I know Asriel- but I don't know if you–" Their voice is getting higher and higher pitched, and Kris covers their mouth with a gentle, yet firm hand.
Frisk looks up at them again, eyes full of tears, and Kris stares back, steady. They see red reflected back in Frisk's pupils.
Slowly, Kris pulls their hand back, keeping the other on Frisk's back. Frisk takes a deep, halting breath, looking uncertain.
"The, um, the person I shared a body with before was, I think, my world's version of… well, you."
Kris feels a little bit winded at the words. They really did know exactly how it felt, after all. It would be a little funny, if not for the devastation on Frisk's face.
"I never knew them, not really, but I felt like they were my best friend. I loved them." They take another deep breath, this one even less stable. "I never really met Asriel. He was… well, when I got there, you were both…"
Frisk hesitates, not wanting to say it outright, but Kris understands. They pat Frisk's back, once, and Frisk lets out a weak noise.
"He had become something entirely different. A buttercup, of all things. Eating them was…" Frisk breaks off, then picks up somewhere else. "I never had any siblings.Not even before. I didn't really have a family at all before. I never have. Not until her."
Kris does let out a small laugh at that. "I guess the divorce is universal."
Frisk cracks a smile. "It was somehow even messier where I'm from, if you'll believe it."
The amusement strengthens, and then ebbs when they realize what must have caused it there.
"Was it…?"
Frisk shakes their head swiftly. "It wasn't your fault. Neither of you. You were only kids."
Kris nods, trying to let the words settle over them.
"At the end, part of you was with me, and part of you was with him. In a way, I guess we were connected after all. The three of us probably understood each other better than anyone else."
"My death saved you over there." Kris says, and they feel a little off-kilter when they realize what that means. "That's what you said yesterday."
'I probably died here because they didn't need me.'
"Is that how you know? That here, you're…?"
"Yeah. If my life here was anything like it was there… there's no way I'm alive."
The three of them have been doomed never to be a family. It's horrible to think of, that in two different universes, Asriel and Kris had each other and Frisk would never get to be apart of that.
Kris doesn't like that. It startles them how much they hate it, hate the thought that they could've had Frisk for a younger sibling here and that, instead, at the base of a mountain somewhere, their body has probably long since gone cold.
They try to imagine Frisk without all of this endearing life in their eyes, and the thought makes them unexpectedly emotional.
"I think you would've liked Asriel." Kris says, voice soft. "I know he would've loved you."
Frisk sniffles, trying to stop tears from falling, "you think so?"
"Yes."
It's easy to imagine Asriel and Frisk chatting each other's ears off while Kris listens quietly, the three of them watching movies together late at night and eating breakfast groggily in the morning. It's easy to see Toriel babying Frisk because they still have baby fat in their round face, easy to see themself braiding Frisk's messy curls badly because they never learned how to braid hair. It's easy, too easy, to slot Frisk into their life as the baby sibling they never knew they were missing.
"My Asriel is gonna love you, when he gets home." For the first time, the thought of waiting for him doesn't feel so daunting. "He's gonna take you everywhere with him and fawn over you like a baby cuz you're so little."
Frisk laughs and the tears do fall then, but Kris is wiping them away with their sleeve before Frisk can even raise a hand. While they're at it, they brush away from powdered sugar they left earlier.
"I think you were right, earlier." They don't even have to clarify, Frisk just sobs in what sounds like relief, their entire face crumpling as they start to cry in earnest.
"Really?" They ask, voice nasally from the tears.
"Yeah. I think we were meant to be siblings." Kris thinks of Frisk, dead and waiting at the bottom of a hole somewhere for someone, anyone to notice they're not coming home, and their chest feels tight. "We were meant to save each other from ourselves."
It's as close to a 'thank you' as Kris feels comfortable saying, hardly anything at all, but Frisk lights up like it's the sweetest thing they've ever heard.
Kris reaches out and pinches their cheeks, overwhelmed with the thought that, in an ideal world, they could've been side-by-side all along. Frisk grabs at their hands, yelping, and Kris bares their teeth in a smile almost like Susie's snarl.
A thought occurs to them, and they soften their grip, holding Frisk's face quietly for a second.
"You deserve to live, you know. Whether anybody needs saving or not." Kris finds themself saying, as though it matters to Frisk now. "You deserve to be sitting here, eating funnel cake and thinking about playing games. You don't have to earn it."
Frisk searches their face, expression briefly shuttering, but Kris holds onto them through it so they'll listen.
"You deserve to have a family who loves you. Do you understand?"
They nod slowly, seriously. Kris nods back in relief.
"You do, too, you know." Frisk's voice is soft, and Kris scowls a little. "You deserve to be able to move forward without feeling guilty."
Wild-eyed and caught, they stare down at the little menace who has now turned this back on them.
"Things change and people leave, but that doesn't mean the world has to stop."
"That's enough out of you." Kris barks, but there's no malice to it. Frisk nods anyway, turning away.
After a moment, they take up their forks again, starting to eat their now lukewarm funnel cakes. It's still good, and even better with someone sitting beside them, a quiet understanding hanging between them. Of each other, of the world they've been put into. Of the freedom they've given themselves.
Frisk starts to sniffle again as they eat, and Kris puts a hand on their back again, rubbing small, comforting circles as they finish eating.
By the time Susie and Noelle spot them from across the festival, things feel like they're going to be okay.