Undertale - Coda Part 9

Asriel floated somewhere just under the surface of wakefulness. It was warm, comfortable, safe. Familiar arms were wrapped around him. He was content. Rather than rise to consciousness, Asriel decided to indulge himself a little, slipping back under. Not into dream, but into memory.

Specifically, the first time Frisk got arrested. Actually, this particular memory might be a bad choice. After all, it started with a rather unpleasant-

***

Splat.

Asriel thrashed wildly, spluttering and trying to pull his face out of the thick, rancid mud. He collapsed back into it again as one of the kids hurled his backpack onto his head. It was heavy with school books, books that would be ruined now, and it hurt when it hit him. The delighted laughter of the group of kids watching him squirm hurt, too.

The group of kids had obviously been planning this all morning. For one, it was abundantly clear that this mud puddle was more than just water and dirt. There was the telltale, acrid taint of urine all throughout the murky goop that was now plastering his face, making Asriel gag and choke as he tried to cough it out of his mouth. It was everywhere, twisting and matting his soft white fur. It would take ages to clean up, and the stench would certainly be making his eyes water for the duration. But the real indication of premeditation was the carefully prepared speech.

“You like that mud, you little shit? We made it just for you, so you can be where you belong.”

Asriel managed to clear one eye well enough to see, looking blearily up at the ringleader. He was a short, sorta frumpy kid with a mean face and a reddish complexion.

“Please, just leave me alone…” Asriel murmured, looking away from the boy’s gaze. It was hurtful, full of stinging hatred.

The kid laughed. The rest of the group hurriedly joined in. No one wanted to be the last one to laugh at the funny joke, all of them sensing the danger in the air. They had obviously joked about this, about showing that weird monster who was boss, but no one had expected things to go this far. But the ringleader, he had something to prove, and lots more to say.

“Oh, I’ll leave you alone alright. Everyone’s going to leave you alone, eventually.” The kid leaned closer, his nose wrinkling at the foul stench that was now clinging to Asriel. “But you know that already, don’t you?”

“N-no…”


“Yeah. I know all about you, little freak. My dad talks about you all the time, ‘specially when he’s drinking. Says that you’re an abomination. He uses that word a lot.”

Asriel managed to pull his bag free of the muck, bringing it between him and the kid, hugging it slightly as if he could hide behind it. But, it was abundantly clear that there would be no hiding, not until the ringleader had finished his speech.

“Yeah. Abomination.” The kid sounded out the word, savouring each hateful syllable. “Dad says, the prince died a long time ago. But, here you are, claiming to be the prince! How does that work?”

He paused for a moment, letting it sink in.

“It doesn’t. You’re a fake. A pretend prince. The whole thing stinks, if you ask me. Dad doesn’t know if you were brought back, or made new, or if you were just hiding the whole time, but he reckons that things that are dead should stay dead. That’s just natural. You’re dirt. So, now you’re in the dirt.”

He looked so pleased with himself and his profound statement, as though he had spent all afternoon coming up with it. One of the other kids gave a weak, half hearted hoot, as if this was some kind of spicy schoolyard rumor. Asriel was sniffing, trying to hold in tears.

“Go ahead, freak. Cry. See if it’ll save you. I know your game! Dirt can’t feel things, it can only pretend. Cry for attention, to make me go easy on you, to try and convince us you’re not a copy. I dare you.” The kid leaned even closer, and Asriel could see death in his eyes. “Maybe dirt can’t feel pain either. Maybe I should teach you your place proper.”

“H-hey…” One of the other kids interrupted. The ringleader started at the noise, snapping his furious gaze towards the interruption with a boggled, hateful expression. The sudden movement made everyone flinch. “Maybe… we shouldn’t hurt him. We might get in trouble.”

“What!? Who died and made you boss of me?” The kid snarled, but the danger and the maniac high of the moment had passed, as quickly as it came. He looked back at Asriel, but this time it was just a distasteful frown. He harrumphed, cleared his throat, and spat directly in Asriel’s eyes. Asriel flinched as though he had been kicked, but the kid didn’t even bother looking, already turning and walking away.

“Fuck this. Come on guys, we’re leaving.”

Asriel managed to wait until the last of them had slunk around the corner before he burst into tears.

***

Frisk opened the door, looking worried. After all, Asriel was late.

“I’m sorry.” Was all Asriel could manage, in a tiny voice. He was still dripping slightly with the foul muck and he reeked of piss. He had his ruined backpack clutched tightly in front of him with both hands. He was shaking, slightly. It had been a long walk home.

Frisk opened their mouth, blinked in surprise, and then closed their mouth again.

“I-I know you wanted to do some stuff this afternoon and I’m late, and, and, I’m s-sorry, I’m so sorry Frisk I didn’t mean to but there were these kids and they, they-” Asriel sniffed loudly, and then hiccuped, his words running together as he lost control. “They pushed me into the mud and called me a fake and said I was dirt and that everyone would leave me eventually and I think they might be right and I’m sooorheeeheheeee-”

Frisk didn’t even hesitate, despite the stinking mud, reaching forward and pulling Asriel into a tight hug as he lost it, his words devolving into sobbing.

“Shhh. Shhhh. It’s ok, you’re safe now.” Frisk patted Asriel on the back, carefully peeling the backpack out of Asriel’s death grip and depositing it on the porch with a splat. Frisk turned and gently pushed Asriel through the door, hooking it closed with a foot, not willing to let go of Asriel for an instant. “Let’s get you cleaned up, ok?”

Asriel continued to apologize profusely as despite their combined best efforts, they left a trail of the foul mess throughout the house on the way to the bathroom. Frisk kicked the various clean towels and bathmats out of the way, lest they become infected, and turned the shower on, setting it to a nice temperature before guiding Asriel inside. Frisk climbed in after him, clothes and all. They were marred by the mud now, too. By now, Asriel had subsided to sniffles and the occasional hiccup, red eyed and sullen.

“Alright, let’s get that shirt off.” Frisk was patient, gentle, barely speaking above a whisper.

“‘s my favourite shirt…” Asriel murmured quietly, looking down at the stained fabric.

“I know, I know. We’ll get it cleaned real good, ok? Arms up, come on.” Frisk fussed, peeling the fabric off of Asriel. It was definitely ruined. Frisk put it aside in the corner of the shower anyway.

Asriel had cottoned on to Frisk’s plan at this point, wiggling his shorts off and kicking his sodden shoes into the same corner. The mud had managed to work its way basically everywhere, and now his fur was matted and tangled with it. Frisk crouched down and patted the tiles, and Asriel slowly sat down in the shower, hugging his knees.

It took an hour. Asriel started crying a few more times as Frisk patiently worked through his fur with a comb, washing and rinsing, undoing tangles, liberally applying soap and shampoo. The scent lingered even after the bulk of the mud was gone, and it continued to burn Asriel’s sensitive sense of smell. Frisk barely noticed; they were so intent on their work. After he was clean, they cuddled in the shower for a little while, Asriel resting against Frisk as Frisk petted him soothingly, the gentle touch and the warm water soothing him. Well, until the hot water ran out.

“So.” Frisk started as they both sat in the kitchen, wrapped in towels and sipping cocoa. “Who did this?”

“O-oh. It was just some stupid kids. A dumb prank, y-you know?” Asriel avoided Frisk’s gaze. He didn’t want to cause any more trouble, he just wanted to forget about this.

“Mm. Just a prank. Really funny. Kids being kids.” Frisk muttered as they sipped their cocoa. “But... Who did it?”

“I, uh, I don’t know their names.” Asriel was starting to get worried. Frisk was staring at nothing, clearly not seeing the kitchen in front of them. They looked… well, Determined.

“I see. Think you might recognize them, if you saw them again?”

Asriel pictured the ringleader. He could see the freckles, the bead of sweat, the pattern of his irises, the pores of his skin, and the strand of drool between the gap of his front teeth. It was entirely possible that Asriel would remember the face until the day he died.

“Probably not… I-I mean, maybe? It all happened so fast.”

“Mm. Where did you say this happened, again?”

***

Asriel was up in his room, hiding. The wardrobe door was open just a crack, to let in some light, and Asriel was dozing tucked neatly between an oversized coat and some soft, fleecy pants, hugging a pillow between his chest and knees. On days like this, he didn’t bother to fight the urge to hide from the world. It was a little warmer and safer, in the darkness.

The sound of knocking on the front door startled Asriel out of his trance. He opened one eye, cocking his head slightly. On the wall of his room, there were flashing blue and red lights. He crawled out of his hidey hole, taking a moment to stretch out some of the kinks in his back, before padding over to the window and looking down at the driveway.

In the dusk, the strobing lights of the police cruiser hurt his eyes. Down on the ground floor, there were figures standing by the front door. Asriel could faintly make out the voices.

“Ms. Dreemurr?”

“Um, yes?”

“I believe that, uh, Frisk here has something they want to tell you.”

“Frisk? Oh, my goodness! You’re bleeding! What happened, child?”

“Frisk here was involved in an incident earlier today involving several other children. Two of them are currently in hospital, ma’am. And Frisk, apparently, started it.”

“What?! Why? Why would you do this?”

“They were mean to Az.” Asriel inhaled sharply, leaning closer to the window. That was Frisk’s voice. “I… I had to do something.”

The police officer made a disapproving noise. “We only have the statements of the children involved to go off of, but it seems as though there was an incident earlier today involving your other child, and this was a reaction to it.”

“But Asriel... He said he had a bad day at school, but that was all.”

“It was apparently a little more than that. Look, ma’am, sir, it’s been a long day. No one involved wants to press charges, and I’d recommend that you leave it at that. As far as I’m concerned, this is between you and your children now. If you want the full details, you should ask them. You should also give Frisk a stern talking to, and let them know that violence doesn’t solve problems. Next time, they might not be so lucky.”

“O-of course.”

“We do apologise for the inconvenience, officer. We’ll be sure to have a long discussion about this. We wouldn’t want for anything like this to happen again.” That was Dad. His voice was very clipped and formal sounding, definitely hiding some kind of emotion.

“See that you do. Now, just before I go, I’d like to officially recommend that your children travel to and from school either together or with supervision from now on, for the sake of safety. I’d also like to unofficially state that, although I can’t condone Frisk’s behaviour, I do think they acted out of a desire to protect their brother. I have a younger sister myself, I understand. As long as the two of them look out for each other, they’re going to be fine, I think.”

“Okay. Thank you, officer.”

“My pleasure. Y’all have a pleasant evening.”

The door was shut. Toriel sounded worried but also relieved as she scolded Frisk. Asgore sounded, of all things, impressed, if suitably stern. The entire affair lasted an hour, sometimes they were too quiet to hear. Eventually, Frisk opened the door and slipped into the room, alone. Asriel was waiting, sitting on the floor next to the bed, still hugging the pillow.

Wordlessly, Frisk shuffled to the end of the bed and sat down. The bed creaked gently. Asriel looked up from the spot on the floor he had been contemplating, and regarded Frisk. Even in the darkness outside of Asriel’s lamplight, it was clear that Frisk had a black eye and recently healed cuts on their face. That was his mother’s work, for sure.

“That looks like it hurts.”

Frisk chuckled, but there was no humour to it. “I’ve had worse.” Despite the brave face, Asriel noticed hesitance and caution in Frisk’s movement. Both of Frisk’s hands were hidden in their sleeves, perhaps intentionally.

They stared at one another in silence for a moment.

“So. Are you ok?” Frisk asked, sounding tired.

“Yeah. ...No, not really. I’ll live, though. What about you?”

“The worst injury was to my pride.”

“So… You found them, then. Did you really go out there just to fight for me?”

Frisk sighed, rubbing their face with their sleeve, wincing a little. “I... I didn’t go out there to fight anyone. I just wanted to talk.”

“Must have been some talk.”

“It started as one. But…”

Asriel saw something he couldn’t remember ever seeing before. Frisk looked… lost. Asriel placed the pillow aside and hoisted himself up onto the bed, next to Frisk, putting a hand on Frisk’s shoulder.

“What happened?”

“He was so smug.” Frisk stared off into the middle distance, clearly not seeing the room anymore. “I saw the look on his face when he spoke about what he did to you, and I remembered how you looked when I opened the door… And… I was just... So angry. I only wanted to tell them to back off, maybe talk to someone’s parents. But…”

Frisk looked down at their hands, still hidden in the sleeves. Asriel reached out slowly and peeled one back. It was sticky with blood, and Frisk gasped in pain as he pulled at the fabric.

“Oh.”

“Az, I think I might have broken something.”

“Uh, yeah.”

“I mean, apart from my knuckles.”

Asriel looked up from the bloody mess to Frisk. “Huh?”

“I… I wanted to hurt him. To punish him. The urge, the rage. It was overwhelming. I definitely broke his teeth. And then the rest of them, well, they fought back. It happened so quickly. It was… So easy.” Frisk looked up at Asriel, and Asriel was horrified to see that they were crying. “Is that who I am?”

“No. No! Of course not! You were, you were just, you know, angry. You over reacted. That happens, it doesn’t mean you’re a bad person.”

“I’m supposed to be better than that! I don’t get angry! I’m supposed to, to…” Frisk sniffed, their voice cracking. “...To be better.”

Asriel gently took one of Frisk’s hands in his own. Frisk blinked, trying to clear their vision of tears, looking down in surprise. Asriel smiled.

“You did it because you care. It was for a good reason, even if it was a bad thing. I appreciate that you tried to stick up for me, ok? But you don’t have to fight anyone for me. I’ll take care of you, just like you take care of me.”

“R-really?”

Asriel nodded, and then bowed his head, trying to focus. Frisk had hidden these wounds from his mother, presumably because they were ashamed of them. Well, that was fine.

Frisk cared so much about him. It was so strong, it was kind of scary. But Asriel cared about Frisk too. He could feel it, like a warm light. Taking a deep breath, Asriel slowly coaxed that light upwards, out of the depths and out into the world. A soft green glow crept between his fingers, and Frisk’s eyes widened. Healing magic. Asriel has never managed to get it to work before.

After a moment, Asriel took his hand away. The blood was still there, but the skin under it was knit and unblemished. Frisk lifted the hand and wiggled their fingers experimentally.

“You did it... Wow!”

“Don’t get too excited, I still gotta do the other hand and... I’m not super sure how I did that.”

“You literally just did it.”

Asriel shrugged awkwardly. “Magic is hard!”

Frisk looked incredulous for a moment, and Asriel cracked an awkward smile. Frisk broke first, sniggering and putting their good hand up to their face to wipe away the last of their tears. Asriel relaxed a little, relieved to see Frisk back to something resembling normal.

“Well, at least we know it can be done. Sooner would be better than later though.” Frisk offered Asriel their other hand. “This kinda sorta really, really hurts.”

***

The hotel room’s ceiling was an off white. The sun suggested that it was late morning. Asriel could hear Frisk in the bathroom, singing the telltale song of the morning after. There was a heaving sound, a wet sound, and then a pained groan. Asriel took a moment to lie on the bed, feeling equal parts emotionally drained and thankful for his comparatively mild hangover. That memory… The whole thing had happened a long time ago. He hadn’t thought about it in years. Why was he remembering it now?

The sound of a toilet flushing interrupted his musing. It sounded chunky. Asriel took a deep breath and sat up. Time to go look after Frisk.