fulllifeconsequences

kid, it's 3 in the morning.

And I'm a wretched, writhing pile of misery and spite who left the concept of sleep behind long ago. What is your point?

Is this really even the time for this, funnybones? Don't you have anything better to do?

time for what? what're you talking about?

Your stupid jokes!

I can't do another game of chess right now, so... just.. whatever. Drag me to the judgment hall. Tell your clever little punchline.

* It already knows no one will love them the way they are.

you know what? i do got one for ya.

By all means. Do your worst.

knock knock.

Sigh.

Who's there?

olive.

Olive who?

Olive you no matter what you are.

[Was that... is this...? Is this a trick? They stare mutely at their phone, trying to tell if they saw what they really saw, or they're just so desperate to see something that they're only convincing themselves, or... or if someone's just found a weakness and is using it to dig in a knife.]

Asriel?

[Silence. No answer. It's a few hours later, during that unclear period where they don't know if it's morning or night, but they gather up their impulsivity and fire off another message.]

I've got a funny one, too. Want me to tell it?

Did you hear the one about the kid knocking on the lid of their coffin?

They were speaking in remorse code.

...That was in poor taste, wasn't it?

What do you call it when an ancient sun god knows he was wrong and messed up horribly?

An Apollogy.

...Apollo is a figure from surface world mythology. He, um... you know what? Never mind.

[DEAR GOD THEY'RE MAKING A MESS OF THIS ABORT ABORT.

One more text, after a long, uneasy pause full of starting messages, then immediately erasing them.]

Look. I have decided to respect your space, and will not push you unduly. You have complete control over the pace you want to set.

If you ever... I won't mind if you want to have Frisk at your side whenever we talk. Or Toriel. Or... Sans? He's very... Sans, but he's also powerful enough to stop me. Whatever makes you feel safer. I won't mind.

You don't have to respond to this.

Goodnight, Asriel.

[This text comes a few hours later, after he's had time to calm down and think things over. The more he talks to Chara, the more he can get used to them actually being here. The more he can understand that they aren't that soulless vessel that had been willing to tear him to pieces all in the name of power. Or maybe they just hated him at the time. He never knew the definitive answer.

He's finally gotten up from the garden, at least. Papyrus had suggested it was better for him to sleep in a room instead. But he still remembered to gather up the locket he'd thrown in a bush - not quite wearing it just yet, but it still lays detached at his side. And in his claws, he holds his phone.

If he had done what he'd meant to, before Sans and Papyrus came in the room, Chara would be talking to nothing but a pile of dust. Ha. Who's the morbid one, now?

It's even longer before he can really think of anything to say. Part of him just wants to leave it at that, but Chara's clearly suffering, too.]

Why is it hard to keep up a conversation with a goat?

They keep butting in.

[...Haha.

The night has felt incredibly long. They don't know if they're tired or scared or... or if they want to let a laughter that's more nervous but more free than it's been in a long time out of themselves. Please let this be okay. Please let this be okay. Please.

They're biting their thumbnail while they type, and they think maybe they're smiling, and they don't know if that's bad or good.]

Maybe, but at least their jokes are Asrielly funny.

[It won't be perfect. They might still fight or force space between the two of them, but he's not as much of a shambling mess as this all started. He's had time to think, to talk to others, and. Maybe the reality of Chara talking to him, like the real, warm human they used to be, is enough to settle some of those fears. They aren't that empty, LOVE-crammed vessel right now.

It's enough.

It has to be enough.]

I make a bad Sans though, huh?

Maybe you were just trying too hard.

[Another joke. They don't know if it's... they don't know, cheating or something, to skip to making jokes when they've barely scraped the surface of all the damage that's been done. Are they just pretending things are alright? They don't know how this sort of thing is supposed to go at all.

But it... their heart aches. The empty place where a heart should be? Something aches and feels full to overflowing. They missed this so much. They missed him. Whether it's cheating or not, it feels like they need this so, so badly. Please let this be okay.

Please let him be okay.]

But I'm pretty sure even Sans makes a bad Sans.

He's willing to try when it counts.

[Asriel knew that. Chara knew that. He isn't even sure if Chara had even gotten past him in the bad timelines, but... he's going to guess not, considering their reaction to his own 'ending'.

It's awhile before the next text comes.]

They took the knife away.

Asriel... who's "they?" What are you talking about?

[Chara doesn't understand. Is he talking about Frisk and the Real Knife? Can't be. How would he already know? In either case, whether it was a Knife or a Dagger, it had only ever been freely given. Dug out of the sand and given to Chara. Given back to Frisk. Given to Toriel. Never taken, right?]

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