fulllifeconsequences

[It's... it's a flower. A flower you can make tea out of. And there's - their gut reaction is a split-second of irrational, inexplicable panic, because they've been caught liking things, because they've somehow allowed him to link both flowers and tea to them when they should be something indefinable and unattached and...

The paranoid instinct doesn't last long. Gives way to some weird, equally irrational guilt, because of course he has to worry about a flower being safe. Even the things they love become dangerous, become mired in death and pain and all the horrible things that Chara spreads over the things they dare to care about. Flowers shouldn't be scary, shouldn't have to be tiptoed around, but Chara made them into that. Chara made them into a weapon.

And then, underneath all that, there's... Chara doesn't even know how to identify this feeling. The idea that all their stupid boring talk about hydrangeas and soil pH and narcissuses might have actually been not just heard, but listened to. The idea that... he'd know, he'd hear, he'd get that flowers are a nice silent, subtle way for a human to express things - remembrance of the dead, expressions of love and gratitude, a whole soft language in the background that doesn't force itself to be heard, but patiently waits for anyone who might take the time to look into it and listen. Beneath that fresh apple-ish scent is patience, material wealth, a plant with the power to calm and soothe and heal. A plant not entirely unlike the person that red scarf is meant to represent, really.

They bite their lip.]

...Thank you.

[It's always their fault when he has to say goodbye to Papyrus. They're the one with power, the one distant enough to leave it at a dismissive and impartial "forgettable." It's not about them, it's about him, because losing a brother is the single most painful thing they can even think of. They just hold the cold metal of the flowerpot against their chest, struggle to find a way to say "thank you" that's more significant and meaningful than just "thank you" could be.]

Wonderland gave me a golden flower. I can... it'll have some company. They can grow together. I can...

[Can what, raise a garden? Can have a happy little windowsill? It feels like such an awkward, irrelevant thing to tack on that their rosy cheeks just go tomato-red. They don't - they don't know how to accept gifts graciously, how to translate the things in their miserable backwards little heard into genuinely grateful words. They're bad at this. They don't know how to be - how to be not an ass around Sans, ha ha.]

[They seem kind of, uh. Blown away. Didn't expect this from him, huh? Probably didn't expect anything from him at all. Probably heard him mention he had a gift for them back in the hall a few days ago and dismissed it out of hand, or expected him to just forget about it.]

[Is this--is this a good thing? Do they like it? He can't really tell. Maybe they don't even like chamomile tea. There's other plants you can use to make tea. Lavender? Uh...vervain? Or was it something else that began with V? There were a whole lot of medicinal plants in the book he read, all of them with weird sounding names.]

[They say thank you, though. They say thank you, and he thinks it might be the second time they've ever said it to him, ever had reason to say it to him. They never struck him as the kind of kid who says "please" or "thank you" unless they're either being insincerely polite in that frightened way they have sometimes, or unless they really, actually mean it. Especially with him.]

[They don't even...make a joke. They don't even have anything sarcastic to say.]

[So maybe he did okay.]

you're. heh. you're welcome.

[Right, Wonderland. It gives out little things this time of year. He's not going to mention what he got. This is, uh, this is a nice moment right here, and telling them about the picture he got might just upset them.]

yeah. you could, uh. have one of those things you put on the windowsill, or something. when it gets warmer, anyway.

[They could pick a room in the mansion and turn it into a garden. Frisk could plant their forget-me-nots there as well, assuming they kept them. Boy is that some sappy, wishful thinking. Some flowers aren't going to just fix everything. It's gonna take a lot more than flowers.]

[But maybe they actually helped a little.]

[They've both... really needed something to go right for once, huh? It feels weird that they'd be getting it from each other, of all people, but they've really needed something to go right for once. It's not even anything that huge, not compared to all the problems that are hanging over everyone, but it's still...

They like flowers, and he remembered that. He could have weaponized it. Could have rubbed it in their face that they picked a bouquet of narcissuses, could have told them they weren't allowed flowers anymore because they ruined it, couldn't be trusted with it, wrecked it. But he just... gives them something nice. It's not even withering or anything, even if it looks like it was sort of clumsily replanted. They think it will flourish, with a little care.]

Yeah. Yeah, I could. I don't think Toriel would mind. It's... a good gift.

[He maybe needs to hear that. Good job. You did a good job, Sans. You did something nice, you helped, you made a gray and somehow endless day have a lighter gray spot glimmering in the middle of it. The silver lining, ha ha, because silver's gray too, right?]

You... got one for Frisk, too?

[He mentioned something about "like I told Frisk." Maybe it was just the scarf, or the scarf was wrapped around something else, but - well, that's not the important part.]

They accepted it?

[It's a good gift.]

[He sort of just. Blinks at them for a moment.]

oh.

[It's a good gift. He did okay. They're actually--they're saying it to his face. It's not even backhanded. There's no "well, you could have done worse," or "well, it's not terrible." They like it.]

[Something went right. Amidst all the bad, some small thing went right.]

[Jeez, say something, dummy.]

heh. [He grins for real.] i'm, uh. glad you like it.

[His grin fades back into neutrality at the mention of Frisk.]

yeah. uh, well. i think they only did out of...obligation. i don't know if they still have it.

[They've probably thrown it out by now.]

it was a flower too. uh. forget-me-nots. and a scarf as well.

[They laugh before they can stop themselves. Yeah, see? It's a good gift, Sans. You're good at gifts. Frisk wanted yours. Didn't want Chara's. Didn't want anyone's. Boy, that'd really keep the good mood going, huh? Congratulations! You're not as abysmal at giving things to people as Mx. "let's make Mr. Dad Guy a Mr. Dad Pie and watch him nearly Mr. Dad Die" over here!

Don't wreck this. Just try to hang on to this ephemeral little sliver of "okay."]

But they did keep it. They've got something to look at other than... just bare walls, I guess, right?

[Friendship, remembrance, fidelity. Some old wives' tales about it being good for stopping bleeding if applied externally. A nosebleed remedy, or something. They don't actually know if that's true, though, even if they probably should - they're the kid who likes flowers, the one who's too smart to be a kid, the one creepy enough to probably spend their time memorizing ways to kill people with daisies, ha ha.]

Flowers are... they aren't bad company, when you think company is the last thing in the world you want. They just listen. Thrive off being spoken to, no matter what you're saying. Patiently and modestly alive.

[That... sounds kind of pretentious, huh? They laugh again.]

Plus they're... forget-me-nots are blue, right?

[They shouldn't even have to ask. They should just know. That's basic.]

Frisk will probably appreciate that. Any little thing that connects to who they are. I don't think they're really understanding themself as a person lately.

[Just the blank canvas that had another Fallen Human's name ("name") slapped onto them. A better Frisk will come along if they could only just go away forever. A "better" Frisk did come along, smiling and perfect and untroubled and utterly at peace with their false white surroundings, didn't they? Look, proof! Proof they're just the role they play, a function any kid could fill, just the anomaly, just there to be watched and judged.

The world can be awfully good at providing proof like that to people who are only looking for one thing in particular.]

...You really have been getting to know us, haven't you?

Edited (as abysmal as giving things) 2017-01-04 17:09 (UTC)

they kept it while i was there, at least. yeah.

[He hopes they still have it. Not because he gave it to them or anything, but...god, yeah, that room is just so empty, so devoid of life. That was the whole intention of giving them flowers. Something alive, growing, something they might have to attend to, something that depended on them, and something that...well, added a bit of color and life to things.]

that's a nice way to think about it. just kind of...there. not asking for anything.

[Even cats aren't really like that. Cats aren't patient. 4 is pretty demanding at times, though Sans loves that about the little guy. It gets him out of bed when nothing else does, because otherwise 4 is gonna yowl at the closet door until he gets his tuna.]

yeah? you think it will help?

[He actually did okay. He did good. He rubs the back of his skull, almost shy.]

i. heh. i've been trying, at least.

...You have been. And it has not gone unnoticed.

[It still feels strange to be the one saying it to him. Does it really hold any water at all if it's coming from them? They wouldn't blame him if he couldn't believe it. Even they aren't sure they're capable of saying nice things and meaning them. Are they just trying to be a chameleon? If nobody else is able to say the things he's gone so long without being told, then it might as well be them?

Are they even capable of love or compassion or any of the things monsters are made of at all? Maybe they're just pretending to be one.

...But once upon a time, they set fire to coffee creamer. They played pranks on each other. Sans talked about stars, and they taught a younger Sans (an "other" Sans? Their Sans, or not their Sans?) how to kit. Once upon a time, Sans remembered they like flowers.]

Truth be told, I'm really not sure what we can do for Frisk at all. This is... mending things has never really been my area of expertise. The opposite, in fact. But I think... all the same, having flowers to fill an empty space in an empty day will help.

[Someone has to take care of these flowers, a boss monster once said. One in the Ruins, one who had turned the throne room into a garden of them, one who would soon fade away.]

[He believes them. There's something about their tone that's genuine. He's heard that tone a lot lately. This could still be some elaborate ruse--set him up and then knock him down, like usual, but he doesn't think so. They both made it pretty clear to each other months and months ago that that sort of thing wasn't going to work. Chara has never needed a long con to hurt him.]

[So it's genuine. It's just...kind of astonishing. Kind of mind-blowing, because he's not sure that giving them a plant and turning Frisk into a prisoner warrants any real compassion toward him. He's not sure he's earned this. He knows he hasn't, and Chara told him as much not long ago.]

yeah. i...might be weird for me to say it, but that's what i'm hoping.

[It's not even really hope. It's just sort of...desperation. Because if Frisk doesn't improve, doesn't reach even the faintest approximation of okay, then what was the point of anything?]

i think...maybe they need time to think. and think rationally. and...the most we can do is. i dunno. keep telling them that they're wanted. i guess.

[It helps him, at least. Papyrus tells him something nice, and even if Sans doesn't fully believe it, the day is still a thousand percent improved.]

I've never been very good at "wait and see."

[Neither their shirt nor their eye is any shade of blue, let alone the patient one. They don't really believe in or comprehend the concept of change, and while it might be out of inexperience and despair born of a world that kicked them while they were down, it may also be out of that impatience - an expectation they should be able to change immediately and never backslide, and that others should, too. Doesn't make it easy to see past right here and right now. Doesn't make it easy to imagine how different things will be a week or a month from now.

Time continuing to move steadily forward is weird. Having a future is weird.]

How will you know when they're ready to come out of that room? We still don't know how they figured out where the Rabbit Hole was. What if they know how to find it a second time?

yeah. heh. kinda figured.

[He says it lightly. Not everyone is built for patience, or for Patience. Chara is an active kid who was forced into a passive role. That couldn't have been good for them. Time and time again, they're forced into situations where they can do nothing but watch and wait to see what Frisk does.]

[Another thing they have in common.]

i...don't know. i think they'll know when they're ready. plus, heh. wonderland being what it is, some event will happen that will let them out.

in the meantime...guess we should find out how they found the rabbit hole. seems like someone might've been helping them.

[He's heard the stories. The Rabbit Hole isn't something one just typically finds. At least not on your own.]

[Something cold and heavy and writhing sinks into the pit of their stomach at the mere mention of it.

Someone might've been helping them.]

Who. What sort of person would encourage a child to do this.

[It comes out too frozen, too sharp and icy. So clipped and vicious that the question mark snaps clean off of it, turns it into a statement when it has no right to be.]

Try as I might, I cannot imagine how Frisk could figure out the location on their own. I do not understand how SAVEs alone could help them avoid everyone so efficiently.

[A SAVE didn't keep them from encountering monsters underground. Even if they ran from each and every one of them, they couldn't go completely undetected.]

But the alternative... how can I believe that anyone would want Frisk to disappear?

[It stirs something in his soul, like kicking up dust in a long-empty room. The first prickle of something cold and frosty. Something like anger. Just the barest hint of it, because they're right. Who would do this to a kid?]

probably a mirror. right? none of them exactly like us much. and seeing as the core is on the mirror side...frisk's a smart kid. they'd know that if anyone could tell them where the core is, and maybe where the rabbit hole is, it'd be a mirror.

plus. queen would probably see it as a victory, right? getting a real to erase themself. bet that's major mirror brownie points.

[It's sickening. It's sickening because it makes sense, and because every single mirror here is safely beyond their grasp. They can do nothing about this crime. The guilty ones will smile smugly and go about their lives unfettered.]

Why would Frisk ever trust a mirror? After what their own mirror did to them, why...

[Their stomach twists just thinking of it. Broken fingers and hateful words. Things that had belonged on the Surface, things that never should have had to hunt them down here, too. How could Frisk put themselves completely in the hands of one of those creatures after finding out that was how they were willing to act?]

How could they possibly shun us and embrace one of them?

frisk erasing themself aligns with the mirrors' interests.

[He pauses, thinking. Not thinking about how horrible it is, not thinking about that chilly anger in his soul and how foreign it feels. Set it aside. Think logically.]

frisk probably knew that. probably knew one of them would benefit from helping erase a real.

[And who would benefit the most? Frisk has no enemies on this side of the glass, so it has to be a Mirror, right? And it would be one who knew Frisk, or knew them through their Reals. Frisk's own Mirror, since hell, maybe the kid is just as suicidal as Real Frisk is. Mettaton's Mirror, out of some obsession over Mettaton. Chara's Mirror, maybe if Frisk pressured them enough. Sans's own Mirror of course, though he hasn't heard from the guy in months now.]

[It'll be hard to pin down. It's not like he or anyone can just ask, since they can't trust a single thing any Mirror says.]

[He shakes his head.]

cause that's...kinda what you do. when you're trying to punish yourself.

[He remembers.]

you push aside the people who care. embrace the things that hurt you instead.

[Besides, it's not like someone who actually cared about Frisk would help them Erase themself. Right, Zacharie?]

[It makes sense. It might sound backwards on a purely theoretical, logical level, but it makes the visceral and soul-deep kind of sense that they know from personal experience. The way Sans knows from personal experience, too, they think, because surely someone who didn't get it would never suggest it.

It's... it's just the kind of thing that claws its way into you, they think, when you really learn what it means to think "but nobody came."

You deserve it. You deserve people who hurt you. At your worst, you become almost obsessed with your misery, almost find a sort of strange vindictive, sadistic pleasure at shouting yourself into submission. You lose sight completely of everything outside that cocoon of jagged, rusting misery.]

I don't want to just let this rest. I can't just let this rest. I do not care if they are out of my reach.

[Can't get to that side. No police in Wonderland. No law. No church to hear your confessions. No clear concept what they even mean when they say they need to see justice, only the sickening feeling that no child should have to suffer through that ever, ever again.]

I refuse to allow anyone to steer a child toward the abyss and walk away utterly unburdened. It sickens me to even think they might be satisfied by an outcome like the one they pushed for.

Do... I suppose it is a slim chance, but do you suppose Frisk would tell us who?

[They doubt it, somehow. Frisk is good. Frisk forgives you. Frisk would... protect the people who did this, wouldn't they? That's what a good victim does. Thinks about the discomfort they would put the people who harmed them through if they told the truth.]

[It's the lesson learned when bad things keep happening to you that are out of your control. No one can ever hate you as much as you hate yourself, and things are somehow easier to deal with that way. It's like some kind of modicum of control over the situation.]

i agree. whoever it is can't be left unchecked.

[It feels empty, though, because how do you stop a Mirror? Like Chara says, they're out of their reach completely. There's nothing they can do but get upset about it. And what would he do anyway? Go punch a Mirror in the face, stand by while Chara reaps LOVE from them?]

[Justice would be nice. Justice so rarely actually happens.]

they might. when...if they ever start trusting us again. then they might tell us.

[They need... they need to think. To plan. To quash down this helpless anger at the inescapable reality, the unsolvable problem of - how do you make someone who will never be sorry feel what it's like to suffer the way they made someone else suffer? How do you make them care what they did?

Helplessness is not who they are. They're the one who plots. Who makes things happen. They just - they just have to think.]

If they ever start trusting us.

We took choice away from them. Wouldn't give them what they wanted. I don't think they're going to let that go so effortlessly.

[They've had choice taken away from them enough as it is, haven't they?]

[Sans is gonna do some investigating on his own. They'll have to come back to this. He gets the feeling that Chara isn't going to give up on this easily.]

yeah. "if."

[Frisk forgives everyone, but forgiveness isn't the same as trust.]

taking their choice away was my doing. they can blame me for that.

[He's the one who teleported them away against their will. He's the one who had basically a prison cell all set and ready for them. He doesn't regret it, because it means Frisk still exists, but at the same time he's absolutely certain that he could have done better. There must have been a better way. There always is.]

I SAVEd so they could not. I LOADed every time the outcome was not to my liking. I can't disregard my role in what transpired, Sans. To unload it all onto your shoulders would be morally irresponsible.

[They're not very dark blue, but they aren't above consequences. They know what they did.]

Nor would it be right of me to let your relationship be sabotaged. You and Alphys were the ones who saved them when my magic ruined them. You were the one who found them before they could cross to the mirror side. You... for all the mixed feelings tied up in "for your own good," you did strive to create a safe place for them.

[He could argue, but what's the point? Some ridiculous blame game doesn't really solve anything. He's going to blame himself more than they will, and he knows they're going to blame themselves more than he will. That's just how this is gonna go.]

[He sighs a little.]

we all coulda done better. i guess hindsight is always twenty-twenty.

What a shame we couldn't do it over, now that we know better.

[It's a very flat joke. He probably won't find it funny at all. They're really only good at the wrong kind of humour.]

heh.

[It's not really funny, but it's not sarcasm either. Gallows humor. Not his favorite, but sometimes it's needed.]

maybe that's the takeaway. sometimes you got no choice but to move forward.

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