Loving Every Bone in Your Body |1.1| Momster

        Basically reader insert through Pre, during, and Post pacifist run.

        I’m putting everything I've ever wanted to read in reader-inserts in this one fic.

        I’m not joking.

        Reader with emotional, physical, and mental battles. Reader going through depression that “goes away” only to come back at bad times. Reader dying multiple times. Reader just needing a big fluffy hug from Tori SO. BAD. Strong language. Reader having punny humor. Reader going into the Underground with Frisk. They/Them Frisk. Reader messing up timelines sort of.  Sans. ….Ye-Sans. Fluster-puff Sans. SLOW burn. Reader using cheesy pickup lines that are equivalent to sans puns, but being SO oblivious to his coming-ons. FLUFF. A lot of Soul stuff. Soulsmut, soulfluff, soulmates, soulmusic, soulsoul-... True Pacifist run but Chara trying to mess up Frisk but them being too Determined to listen. Multiple resets. Reader bonding with Frisk. Reader bonding with everyone tbh. Monster’s integrating into society. The Above world not being as it’s all cracked up to be as the monsters want. Sans with nightmares. Reader with nightmares. Passive aggressive PTA Sans. Bullied Frisk. Scientific breakthroughs. Reader being a teacher at Torial’s school. Having the main cast being a cute fam with reader.  Plus much, muuuch more.

        (heart, wink, kissey face)

---

        One minute, you were lazily relaxing on a fluffy blue cloud in a green sky, talking to a smiling red ceramic mug about why phones should be made of cabbage and mildly spicy tartar sauce, and the next you're staring at your real life quilt covered lap, looking at your hands in hazy wonder in the darkness of your real room.

        You were… awake now? You were still trying to clear your clouded mind, watching your hands curl and uncurl over and over. One second you were in a deep sleep, and then another second you're sitting bolt right in your bed. It was like you stood up too quickly and blood rushed to your head and you refused to sit down to recover.

        To ground yourself, you took in the navy blue walls around you, the large window that overlooked the trashy alley between you and the apartment complex, the curtains that were a dingy white and probably needed to be changed a long time ago, and the patterned quilt wrapped around you, made up of different colorful patches. There was the soft humming of the air condition, your heavy breathing, the ticking of the clock next to you, crickets outside, and the couple cars zooming down the main road that ran through town.

        Feeling a bit more awake, your eyes drifted to your bedside clock. You woke up long before your alarm set off.

        Which was new and weird.

        You were the type of person that could sleep for hours unhindered, why you needed said alarm to wake you up at a humane hour. Yet, here you were looking around your sunrise colored room, still a bit dazed from suddenly sitting up. Checking to make sure it was early morning and not late evening, you watch the sun slowly crawl up the sky behind a couple of dark clouds.
        What.. were you supposed to do? You didn’t feel tired enough to go back to sleep, but you had never been awake this early before. There wasn't anything to do. Normally, when you got up normally, you’d wake your younger sibling and then make breakfast for them, help them get ready for school and then chill out until your classes in the afternoon. Yet, today you and the kid were on break, and breakfast wouldn’t be for another - your head rolled to check the red digital clock again - 3 more hours.

        Maybe this was a good thing. You could get working on a project you had to get done by the end of your break.

        …

        Pfft. You might’ve done the crazy thing of waking up early, but you weren’t insane. You knew you should do your project but you were also pretty sure your name was Procrastinator. You went by your middle name with friends.

        ...4 am made you loopy and unfunny.

        You know what else is unfunny? The loud crash of metal from the kitchen echoing in your silent house. The sudden bang made you jump and almost fall right off of your bed if not for the heavy quilt wrapped around your body, keeping you safely in place.
        “What the hell…” You slowly stood, grabbing up your baseball bat from under your bed. It was stained in a couple areas, making it your 12th grade trophy from the time you took on a couple other high schoolers that were picking on your sibling after your baseball game, back when they were in Pre-K. Yeah, people sucked, and your trusty metal bat was proof.

        The banging happened a couple more times, snapping you out of reminiscing so you could slowly sneak your way out of your room.
        The house, like it should be at 4 in the morning, was almost pitch black if not for the purples and pinks that danced around from the slow sunrise. You would’ve taken a picture of the beautiful light if you weren’t scared that a robber, or worse, a confused drunkard, was in your kitchen.

        Slowly padding down the hall, bat at the ready over your shoulder, like you had done all throughout middle and high school, your ears were out for any more noises indicating who was raiding your place.

        “...F-..FuCK..!” You froze. Just as you had made it to the kitchen, your hand stilled on the doorknob at the familiar voice. You stiffened briefly before your shoulders sagged and the bat swung gently down to rest it’s head on the floor. “Sh-Shit…” The voice slurred again, immediately being followed by another bang. In response your body shook with a sigh. It just had to be a confused drunk idiot waltzing around so early in the morning. Honestly, now knowing who it was, you didn’t want to go confront them. You didn’t want to have anything to do with them, in fact.

        “Mmhn!” A body ran into your legs, making your eyes dart from the creaky kitchen door to a head of messy brown hair. You sighed again, kneeling down to be the 3rd graders height. You set your bat down so you could rest both of your hands on their shoulders.

        “Hey bud, what’re you doing up so early?” Your voice was gentle and quiet, hoping to not alert the woman in your kitchen that her kids were up.

        “I heard loud noises,” The kid signed with their tired hands. You could barely make them out in the dark light.

        “Don’t worry kid, it’s just mom making breakfast.” They pouted, sadly not tired enough to take your quick bs explanation.

        “It’s four in the morning.”

        “She just really cares.” At that, you both snorted. Funny joke. “I’m going to put her to bed, but first, let’s get you there, ‘kay?” The kid’s lips quirked into a small smile as they nodded, reaching for your hand.

        “__-_______? Frisk?” You both froze, your own stomach churning in dread. Like deer in headlights, neither of you thought to run or scatter when the kitchen door opened and a women loomed over both of you.

        This lady, who was practically a stranger now, used to be who you called mom. She looked like you two enough, the same coloring at least, that anyone would think it was obvious, but you and Frisk couldn’t see it anymore. Her brown hair that usually fell below her shoulder was greying and frizzy, shooting off in all directions, trying to escape the bun at the top of her head. Her golden skin was now dull and covered in stains from food or drinks. Long ago she stopped caring for herself, and the smell that wafted from her was vomit inducing.  

        “Wh-” She hiccuped. “What’re you two do...doing out here?” The women tilted, having to use the doorway as support so she wouldn’t fall in her dizzy haze. You stood immediately, facing her off and nudging Frisk further behind you, not like they needed the reminder. Frisk had already scurried behind your leg, hugging it tightly in fear.

        “Not much. What about you? What’re you doing in the kitchen?” She glared down at you.

        “None of your damn business.” You rolled your eyes.

        “I mean, it sorta is. You woke me and Frisk up at 4 in the fu- freaking morning.” You slipped, almost cursing in front of Frisk. You tried your best to curb your language around them, even when you were pissed.

        The woman ruffled, looking like you had said something offensive instead of stating a fact.

        “Don’t talk to me like that!” She pointed a clawed finger at you, stumbling forward. You batted her hand away gently with an eye roll, unaffected. She was like this commonly enough, so you became numb to it.

        “Yeah, yeah.” You say softly, reaching out a hand to set on her shoulder. “Let’s get you to bed, okay?”

        “No-”

        “You need to sleep. You aren’t okay right now.”

        “Don’t-”

        “When you wake up I can make you food or something. You just-”

        “I said don’t talk to me like that!” She yelled once more before your head suddenly whipped to the side.

        You were stunned.

        The slap rang out a couple seconds later, like you were watching a video and the audio was delayed. Your cheek began stinging, slowly turning into a painful throb. You blink, not really sure how to act.

        She had never hit you before.

        Yeah, she was terrifying, angry, always loud and yelling, teetering on her own feet with a look like she could rip your throat out, but she had never hit you or Frisk. Never. That wasn't her role between her and him.

        “M-Mn!” You leg was hugged hard, being shaken back and forth by a trembling kid. They snapped you out of your stupor.

        Slowly, you looked back to your mom, who was sticking her nose in the air like a pompous asshole.

        “Ungrateful kid…” She murmured to herself before slamming the kitchen door, hiding away in the room for some damn reason you didn’t know of. Thankfully, you had taken anything sharp from the small cooking area years ago, because she always went there to hide when she was having her ‘moments’. Be it a drunk, drugged, sleepy, or anxiety ridden moment, she always hid away in the kitchen.

        Your attention was pulled down by Frisk when they tugged hard at your night shirt.

        “Are you okay?” You blink slowly before giving a nod that was immediately followed by another more reassuring one.

        “Yeah i’m… i’m okay… You?” Frisk just shrugged, still looking you over in worry. Not satisfied, Frisk took your hand and lead you down the rest of the hall and dragged you into their room.

        Sitting on Frisk’s bed, you watched as they ran off again, leaving you in the dim light.

        It would’ve been pitch black if not for the soft purple light that washed over everything. It was from a nightlight you had bought them for their birthday last year. You could see their wall of drawings across from the foot of the bed, most of them showed you and them, but a couple were of Frisk and their mom. Those drawings, were only in grey and black crayons, never as colorful as the ones with you in it. You knew it was on purpose.  

        Other than the drawing wall, the dresser filled with multiple hemmed striped onesies, and the book shelf, there wasn’t much else. Frisks room was small, much smaller than yours. Mostly because your room was where your dad used to stay before he abandoned both of you. You had immediately taken it over so Frisk could have their own room instead of sharing the small space with you. Also, because dad’s room had been across from moms and you didn’t want Frisk anywhere near her. Was it an excuse to have the large room to yourself? Honestly, no. You could care less what your room size, it wasn’t like you had a ton of stuff that needed a bigger room to hold it anyway. You were only living in it during the short times you weren’t spending at your college down the road.

        Something cold and wet brushed your hurt cheek and you hissed in pain.

        “Mm.” Frisk was sitting on your lap now, having climbed up so they could get close enough, a wet rag in their hand. You thought the slap was just going to make your cheek swollen, but when Frisk’s rag came back with red spots, you realized it wasn’t just a simple hit. The women's bony knuckles must’ve cut your cheek and busted your lip. The blood probably was the reason Frisk had been so freaked out. Who knew the withered hag had so much strength left in her. Had to be the alcohol.

        “I’m fine kiddo,” You smile gently at them, trying to ease their worry. It didn’t even hurt that much, more of a dull hum, you noted.

        Frisk didn’t sign to you, too preoccupied by gesturing to you to hold the rag to your cheek as they fished around in a first aid kit they found who knows where. They pulled out disinfectant and bandages, looking ready to overuse both. Yet, as you watched them, they skillfully used the disinfectant properly on a cotton swab, dabbing it where your skin broke, before sticking a large bandage on your cheek and a butterfly shaped one on your lip. You wanted to believe that they were taught this at school, but your heart sunk at the more realistic reason: they used this kit more than often enough on themselves. You wish it wouldn’t be weird for a college student to follow a 3rd grader around their classes, threatening any bullies or ignorant teachers if they tried to say something to the kid.

        “Do you feel better?” Frisk kissed your cheek before leaning back to look over their work. You smiled kindly at them, running a hand through their hair.

        “I feel perfect. Much better knowing I have the best doctor this town has ever seen.” The kid laughed, and then suddenly shot up, turning on you so you could see their hands fully.

        “Can I take your temperature?” You give Frisk a look, feeling like you know what they're about to say. You play along.

        “Sure, Why doc?”

        “Because you’re looking hot today.” The both of you stare the other down before you snort and Frisk falls into giggles.

        “That was a good one, i’ll give you that. Oh, Frisk,” You touch your cheek. “Do you have another band-aid?” The kids face falls.

        “Are you still hurt?” You tried hard to suppress your smile.

        “Well… It’s just, I think I scraped it again when I fell for you.” Frisk falls back, laughing. You join, happy that they learned well. You were so bad about your horrible pick up lines and crappy puns, and you were glad the kid picked up on your humor quite some time ago. You were so proud the kid was just as bad as you now.

        Shifting in your lap, they curl up against you after settling down.

        “Hey,” They signed slowly, holding their small golden hand up high enough that you could see it as you stroked their hair and set your cheek on their head.

        “Yeah?” Frisk’s hand hesitated, and it took a drawn out 10 minutes before the kid continued with their thought.

        “...Why don’t you live in the dorms at your school?” You hummed, acting like you didn’t already know the exact reason, like you weren’t making up a quick lie.

        “ ‘Cause my bed here is sooo much comfier, I don’t have to share my room with anyone, the schools in walking distance, and i get to see my favorite kid every morning.” Frisk nodded against your shoulder, but you knew they weren’t taking you seriously. They knew you better than to believe those things were the real reason you stayed in this horrible house.

        Frisk was sometimes too perceptive.

        Sunlight, real orange and yellow sunlight and not the odds sunrise colors, finally filled the room and you took it as queue for the miniature cuddle session to be over. Frisk, also thinking this, hopped off of your lap.

        “I’m hungry.” You nodded heavily, standing and popping your back with a much needed stretch.

        “Same. What you feeling up for?” Deciding to take the lead, just in case the lady was wandering the halls or was still in the kitchen.

        “Pancakes! Wait, Waffles!.... Eggs and bacon!” God, Frisk was too cute. They, still debating about what they wanted, reached up to ball their hand in the back of your night shirt, making you feel like a mama duck. You inched the door open, looking in all directions to make sure the lady wasn’t in the kitchen before you and Frisk slipped in.

        It was 5:52 a.m.

        You nudged them towards a seat at the island as you immediately went to the fridge to check exactly what you guys had, but you knew there wasn’t going to be much. That women didn’t have a job or money, and even if she did she wouldn’t be using it on the upkeep of the house, supplying food, or paying bills, she’d waste it all on bottles and cans of shitty beer. No, you were the one with three different jobs that you somehow squished in between classes, making the money to keep Frisk housed and belly full. Which reminded you, you needed to call your bosses up to confirm the end of your break date. Frisk had talked you into taking off of work to spend time with them, since neither of you had school for the week. Since you worked so much, and your bosses seemed to like you fair enough, it was going to be a paid time off, luckily.

        You shut the fridge with a sigh. In your hurry to finish up the last of your online class assignments so you could be completely free of school work, other than a single, easy, project, you had forgotten to hit the store yesterday. Meaning anything in the fridge was beers, curdled milk, and maybe some moldy somethings in the very back.

        “You know what? Who wants to eat breakfast anyway?” You shifted to the cabinets, pulling out a stash of sweets that you stowed away in shitty cereal boxes that you knew Frisk was to short to reach and your mom hated enough not to check.

        Frisk clapped, bouncing in their seat in excitement as you dumped out the goods on the counter.

        “Step one to having an amazing break, not eating real food.” Frisk laughed, scooping up a handful of cookies to start eating as you unwrapped one of your favorite candies.

        "Step two is eating out.” You snort.

        “Duh. We’ll go out to eat, just you and me, then we’ll hit a store on the way back.” They nodded, busying themselves with eating as you scarfed down a couple more pieces yourself before standing. “Imma go get the mail,” You say offhandedly, hurrying to the front door.

        Slipping on your black boots and wrapping your sweater tightly around you, you lean out into the cold fall air to open the mailbox stuck to the front of the house. You pulled out a couple envelopes and curled magazines before ducking back in with a shiver. Fall was pretty bad at the base of Mt. Ebott, which annoyed you to no end. Dad said it was going to be warm, since it was at the base and not actually on the mountain, but it still got quite cold. Back in Maryland, the weather never got this cold, even in winter.

        “Nn.” The common Frisk noise made you hurry back to the kitchen, looking the cookie crumb covered kid with a raised brow.

        “Hold it chief, where's the fire? I step out to get the mail and your already crumbling.” Frisk tried to keep a straight face, but was quickly succumbed to the same giggling fit you had found yourself in.

        You sat back on your stool next to the kid, shifting through the mail as Frisk finished up almost half of your sweet supply. You remind yourself to stock back up, and also keep an eyes on it since Frisk now knew where you kept it all. Maybe they weren’t tall enough, but Frisk was a smart cookie, pun intended, and they’d find some way to make it to the stash.

        Junk, Junk, Beauty Magazine, Science magazine, Coupons, News Magazine, Junk, Bills, Dad, More Bills, More jun-

        Wait. What? Dad?

        You pause, flipping back a couple letters to pull out the one labeled ‘Dad’. You frown at it, glancing to Frisk to make sure the kid wasn’t reading over your shoulder. Luckily, Frisk was too busy sorting the candy wrappers, matching them with their true pair.

        Using your nail, you sliced open the envelope and slipped out the folded parchment.

        ‘Dear _______,’ Your frown grew heavier. Why was the letter only addressed to you?

        Well, okay, with common sense you could gather why. Mom was too out of it to really handle herself, much less the simple task of mail reading, and Frisk was just a babe when Dad left you all (you weren’t even sure if the kid ever remembered having a dad. Depressingly, but briefly, you wondered if Frisk was bullied at school for not having a dad like the others). Of course he sent it to you, you were practically the adult of the house now with your mom out of order.

        Looking back to the letter, you sigh. It was short, but much longer than any letter you had even received from the bastard since he vanished.

        ‘Dear _______,
        I would like to inform you that my Will will be sent to you by my lawyer in a week’s time, along with an envelope of cash that I feel will compensate for my absence during your schooling and I hope you’ll use the cash towards it, if you’re still going through with college, that is. You should be in your last year, correct?
        I’m at a place that will help with my...Anger, far from you. I haven’t once lashed out at anyone since I left and I've been doing pretty well. I must mention that I will not be coming back, but i’m sure you have gathered that by now.
        Please tell that monster of a women I used to call a wife, and that you used to call a mother, if you even still live with the beast, that her parents have signed her side of their inheritance over to me and she’ll be receiving nothing.
        Since I know you are already thinking about it, I’ll settle your questions now. Nothing in my will states that it is for your sibling. Fisck, was it? I know that they are your sibling and that knowing you, you probably think of them practically as your own, but I still cannot consider them apart of my family. I am not stopping you from giving anything in my will to them, you can even give everything to that child, but inform them it is from you and not me. In fact, if they could be kept in the dark about me, if they don’t already know, that would be for the best.

        Sincerely, Your Father once’

        By the time you read the entire letter, you were trembling. In anger or from struggling to hold back tears, you weren’t quite sure. He had the damn nerve to think this letter was any where near okay! It was so… so cut off! Like he was writing a letter to a business acquaintance. That's exactly what this was, wasn’t it? Business.

        Frisk’s soft hand landed on your arm, rubbing it in worry. You tried to relax, for them, but you couldn’t get the swelling madness in your chest to go away. They noticed. Of course they noticed. They gave you furrowed brows, gesturing to the letter now crumpled in your fist.

        “It’s just… Bill's mom forgot to get payed. I’ll work it out, no worries.” You ruffled their head of hair, bringing a smile back to their face.

        “Wanna go play outside?” Frisk jumped up from their seat, already running off to grab warmer clothes than their pajamas. You stand, ready to follow, but the letter reminds you that you still have things to sort out.

        You meet the kid at the door. They have on a thin black turtleneck and black pants, pulling on their hemmed onesie over it all. The onesie was denim blue with two magenta stripes over the middle and on the sleeves. Frisk made you cut the pant legs half way, so that they ended at their knees instead of their ankles. Since then, the kid wore it over everything they had.

        Kneeling, you helped them zip up the hemmed onesie, along with pulling on their winter boots.

        “You go on out first, okay? I gotta make some calls about this, uh, bill… First.” I’ll be out there soon enough. Come in if you get cold though.” Frisk looked a little put out that you wouldn’t be joining them immediately, but nodded slowly. They took a long glance to the letter in your hand before jogging outside. You give a wave before shutting the door.

        You breath out, leaning heavily on the oaken door for support.

        You had a single week left. After your break ended, you only had a single week of classes and then you would graduate. Then, you could take Frisk and finally leave that hell hole. You could get a real job instead of your three that weren’t created to sustain a proper living. You could get them into a better school that wouldn’t be so ignorant and asinine about their special case, a warm home for them where they wouldn’t be scared to leave their room by themselves, where they didn’t need to fear any adults in their own house.

        You make your way back to your room so you can grab your cell phone and dial the number you weren’t even sure still worked.

        While the line rang, you walked to living room to take a seat on the couch.

        “Hello,” The deep voice almost made you jump.

        “Hey, this is-”

        “This is -------’s cell, since I didn’t pick up i’m most likely working, sleeping, or in a class. Call me at my home phone-” You hung up before your dad's voice mail could finish. There was no way you were going to leave a message, nor were you going to try his house. You didn’t want whoever was living with him to pick up and try speaking to you. Maybe he lived alone, or maybe he didn’t. If he lived alone, you still didn’t want to leave a message if he wasn’t there to pick up. If he lived with someone...A number of thoughts of him having a lover made you feel queasy and sick. It wasn’t like you ever wanted him to get back with your momster, but you didn’t feel right knowing he was with someone else. That he… moved on so easily from you. Did he… have a new family? Already? After four years could he…have a new ki-

        You shook your head sternly. You couldn’t think of it like that. He had hit you, hit your mom, threatened Frisk-

        But…

        Just something in you couldn’t bring you to hate him. Your dad became a depressed, abusive drunk after your mother became-...Became sick. But he was only different for the four years before Frisk was born and after. Before that… he was… he was a dad. A kind, lovable, funny, dad. In fact, you couldn’t hate him, or your mom. The thought that your dad was trying to be better and left so he couldn’t hurt you, the fact that when your mom was sober she went to AA meetings… the little things she did, and how your dad was before he snapped… you remembered it all so vividly.

        Sometimes you were to kind for your own good.

        You were snapped out of you thinking state by the sound of the front door opening.

        “I’m going out…” You mother said, seemingly more put together than she did earlier this morning. Glancing to the clock, which read 12:07 p.m., you see you’ve been sitting in a trance for much longer than you would’ve liked. A six hour trance.

        “Okay.” You say offhandedly as you stood, stretching and popping your bones. When anything about your parents came up, your mind wandered, arguing with itself between being mad with them or being forgiving. Sometimes, you’ve sat for days in your own world.

        “Where’s Frisk?” Your mom had said something before that question, but your siblings name brought you back.

        “What? Oh uh… They went outside to play a while ago.” Six hours ago.

        “...I don’t see them.” Your eyes flickered up to your mom’s look. Her eyebrows knitted and worry seeping into her wrinkled forehead, you realized she was sober.

        “You don’t… uh. They’re probably around back. I’ll get them in too warm them up real quick while you’re gone.” She nodded slowly.

        The woman searched your face, either wondering if she should ask what she did while drunk, or searching for forgiveness because she remembered. Whichever one it was, she decided to keep quiet.

        “‘Kay Buttercup,” The nickname stung. “I’ll be in town. I’m… Not sure when i’ll be back.” Her sudden smile hurt. “Save some dinner for me, okay?” Her giggle pained you, and when she turned, you almost called for her. When the door shut, your outstretched hand flinched back and you gulped, trying to pull your emotions together.

        When she was sober, she was so recognizable.

        ...

        Panic flooded you like a train slamming into your chest.

        Six hours ago.

        Six. Hours. Ago.

        SIX.

        Why was Frisk still outside!?

        You had never changed so quickly in your entire life. Which was something since you always, always had a quick, ever changing, schedule.

        You were outside only a few minute later, your eyes darting in every direction to spot the 3rd grader.

        They couldn’t have gotten far, you rationalized as the cold wind bit harshly at your cheeks and nose as you ran around the house.

        You did four laps before you were satisfied that Frisk was not there, letting you make your way towards the woods.

        You knew the kid enough to know that they would never go to the city by themselves. That wasn’t an option for them. You went on and on about how dangerous it was alone, and they had gone through enough at that shitty school to know to never trust anyone but you. It was sad, but with how the town was, it settled most worries about the kid getting kidnapped or something, or trusting any of those snot nosed weasels their parents called ‘children’.

        The only place you could think of Frisk wondering off to would be the woods on the mountain. Either they created a fun game that included the use of the forest, was making a surprise for you, decided to take a walk...or maybe-

        You stopped the scary thought before it could form.

        Frisk? Never.

        Mt. Ebott wasn’t a very steep mountain. Yes, near the peak it was, but the base was a gradual incline, and wasn’t actually too bad for beginner hikers or people just on strolls. Sometimes you and Frisk would wander around, see what you could find. Find nature-wise, that is.

        There was no animal life of Mt. Ebott.

        No deer roamed the grassy patches, no birds flocked the trees, and no human went on trips there. It was like… Honestly it was like even the animals knew about the legend and decided it would be safer to go live in another place. Like the animals were to scared of-
        You stopped the scary thought, again.

        Those were legends. They weren’t… real.

        The reason animals weren’t around was most likely because there was such a loud city just next to it, or maybe people had over hunted and the animals left a long time ago and never returned.

        It couldn’t be because of some legend about “monsters” being sealed away, about how people said you’d “disappear” if you climbed far enough.

        Frisk would never have the thought to disappear. Everyday you made it a goal to make sure they were okay. That they never had to face the reality of how shitty your family was. Nothing… Nothing could’ve made them suddenly want to run away! You two had plans for the break! You two… Frisk wouldn’t…

        You hadn’t… failed… had you?