The Garden, Chapter 9

	Asgore’s eyes flickered open, weak sunlight filtering into his monochromatic room. He didn’t remember falling to sleep, and he didn’t feel anymore rested. The whole of yesterday seemed like a blur, though the second half was in slow motion. He looked down, his tapes strewn across the carpet and his crown lay on its side, as useless as always.

	He was leaned up against his door, his shoulders slumped and his arms limp against his body. He didn’t feel like he could move. He felt numb, as if paralyzed by his thoughts. His mouth tasted like cotton, his tongue thick and useless, his eyes were slightly squinted.

	He didn’t know what to feel, so he didn’t feel anything at all.

	Two knocks sounded on the door, rousing him from his semi-conscious state. He sat in silence, hoping that the person would go away. He didn’t want to talk to anyone in a while.

	Another two raps on the door. Asgore sighed, and said, “What?” His voice didn’t feel like his.

	“come on,” said Sans from the other side, “that’s not how you respond to two knocks in a row. you say, ‘who’s there’, right?” He knocked on the door for emphasis.

	“Sans, I’m in no mood for jokes.”

	“oh, come on. just trying to lift your spirits.” He knocked again

	The old King sighed, “Who’s there?”

	“orange.”

	“Orange who?”

	“orange you glad i knocked first?” Sans said, winking audibly. Asgore chuckled, his spirits rejoining him slightly. “see, told you it would work.”

	“I suppose so. Though I must ask, I didn’t take you for the ‘breaking and entering’ type.”

	“technically it was just entering, the front door was open. it just seemed like you needed someone to talk to.” He chuckled. “i heard about what… um, happened last night.” The skeleton sat back against the door on his side.

	Asgore took an unsteady breath. “Yeah… last night was something, alright.” He wanted to punch the floor, dent it, hurt it. “God, I’m so stupid.”

	“it wasn’t entirely your fault,” said Sans, “can’t beat yourself up over it.”

	“It is entirely my fault.” He was getting angry and didn’t know why, “I was the reason I kept those tapes. Why the underground suffered, why my children died, why Tori- why she left me.” He voice wavered, shaking with grief, “I deserve it. I deserve all of it.” A hole in the wall, he could make it so easily. Just a quick jab, his strength well more than enough to do it. He wanted to bend and break, to crack, to mangle. But he couldn’t. He didn’t. He didn’t deserve it. There was a elongated pause, the only sound was of the clock, which ticked like a dripping faucet.

	“asgore.”

	The King didn’t respond.

	“i know you don’t know me too well, but… you can talk to me. i’m a good listener.

	“it’s not healthy to bottle this stuff up.”

	Asgore took another breath, “O-Okay.

	“I just miss her. I miss my family. She’s the only person that will ever understand what I’m going through. They were her kids too, and- and I needed her for as long as I can remember. The pain that I’ve went through, it was so hard to bear.

	“I don’t blame her for leaving, that night… I wasn’t who I usually was. God, the look on her face. She looked absolutely terrified. Terrified of me. I couldn’t live with myself for the longest time, just from the look she gave me. I couldn’t live with myself for being the monster that scared her. What kind of monster am I to yell and scream at my wife? To force her to leave me? She was the one who should have ruled, I should have been the one to be exiled.”

	He sighed, “But there I was, the king in his castle under the mountain. Humph, may as well had been the Jester, I’m no ruler. Toriel was the one that ran everything, everyone knew that. Gerson tried his best to help… but it just wasn’t enough. ‘Heavy is the head that holds this crown...’ cliches are cliches for a reason.

	“There were so many days where I justed wanted to throw it all away. Call off the hunt, say that the war is over, call it quits. Maybe it was hopefulness, maybe Tori would forgive me and come back because I realized I was being an idiot. Maybe I was just tired of it myself. I cannot remember. But day after day, I couldn't find the courage to stop it. I couldn't walk up to the podium, and announce to every single one of my people that we have to stop. I was scared. Scared that they would revolt, scared that they would hate me. How their time was wasted chasing these children to even grasp for a chance for freedom, if not for them, for their children.

	“Countless wasted lives, all because I was scared.

	“Sleep was rare then, I wouldn’t be able to dream without seeing her, her being scared, her being angry with me, her cursing me and leaving, never to be seen again. Some nights I could barely sleep a wink, my mind racing and my thoughts off of the wall. I would be up until the wee hours in the night, only exhaustion taking me into a dreamless sleep, morning coming far too early. That was… until Alphys became the scientist.

	“The girl is brilliant. You can give her something, a weapon, a tool, a toy, a piece of technology, anything she could get her claws on, and by the next day she would have the schematics for it, and it would be even better. She would scour the dump and find things. Small things, big things, all sorts of the things that the Humans would throw away. She would take them and make them for monster-kind. Luxuries that would only be available for few became commonplace in most homes. It was amazing!

	“Well, she would also sometimes find their medicines. Most of which would have no effect on monsters, since we had no real physical matter, as you should know. But, some of their fix-alls were for emotional stress. Depression, chemical imbalances, hormone problems. She managed to find a way to make them work for monsters, drawing parallels where she could. They were little miracles in a pill bottle, helping monster to monster.

	“Well she heard about how I would have awful sleep trouble, and found a way to make a sleeping pill that would actually work for monsters. She gave me the ‘prototype’ and... boy, did they work. One right before bed and I would be out like a light, and for the first time since 201X I had a full night’s sleep. I couldn’t believe it when I woke up.

	“But the best part was, I could actually dream. I would dream and dream and dream, and they weren’t surreal, or ‘off.’ They were vivid, almost life-like. I could feel these amazing emotions  and remember most of everything!”

	"I would see her! A-and Asriel! I-I couldn't believe at first. I could talk to them, feel them, hold them, make them laugh! Some days I couldn't wait for bed.” His voice shook slightly with emotion.

	"I felt so happy... so free. Like a weight was being lifted off of my chest and I could breathe again! I could hold my son, feel his little heart beat and play with my prince, watch him grow up and be the father he needed. I could snuggle up against Tori, feel her soft, warm presence, her silky fur against mine. We would kiss, and nuzzle and cuddle, do all of the things we used to do. Embarrass our kids, drive Gerson crazy, be stupidly and disgustingly cute. I-I could imagine her loving me again, and everything would be fine. Everything would be perfect. I would even dream of just sharing the bed with her, listening to the imaginary snores, knowing that she was safe and next to me. I wanted nothing more than that.

	"But then I would wake up, and have it all crash back down." He took another deep breath. “I just missed her so much… I would have done anything to get her back.”

	“jeez, that sounds… awful.”

	Asgore chuckled. “Ha, yeah it was. It got progressively better, and I was able to lean off of them to actually get sleep, but I never got the same dreams as I did. I was tempted to take one, just one, just to see her one more time… But it wouldn’t be right.”

	He chuckled sadly, “If she knew I did any of this… Toriel would kill me.”

	They both laughed. “guess i won’t tell her then.” Sans joked, “you’re a pretty alright guy, i’d miss you if you died.”

	“Hoho, that means a lot, thanks,” laughed Asgore. “Really does.”

	“you’re welcome, heh.” Sans breathed deep, “look, i’m not the guy known to be serious, but... asgore, it seems like you have two choices. pick a god and pray and hope that toriel takes you back, or you gotta give up the ghost and find someone else to help you ease the pain and that loves you as much as toriel did. hopefully the choice doesn’t ‘haunt’ you.”

	A weak laugh fell from Asgore’s lips, “No simple fix-all? Should have known.”

	“heh, i wish. there’s a saying that i used to always say to myself, you might’ve heard it. ‘those who have regret live in the past,’ or something like that.” Sans chuckled, “seems to be very relevant for both of our cases.”

	“Y-yeah, I know of it. ‘Those who have regret live in the past, those who are anxious… live in the future, and those who are content are living in the present.’” He sighed, “And yes, it is very relevant. I just wish things were so much simpler.”

	“life is never simple, and love is even worse i guess. just seems like those are the two smart choices. up to you on what you want to do.” He got up, a few of his bones cracking and popping back into place, “well it’s high time for me to go, it’s pretty early and i’m not big on being part of the ‘skeleton’ crew. plus, i have a lot of nothing to do today, and that starts in a few. sorry to leave so soon, fluffybuns.”

	Asgore got up as well, his body still half asleep, “Oh, it’s no problem Sans, I’m glad you came anyway.

	“And... thanks. This really helped.”

~~~

	“Asgore…” moaned Toriel, “Oh, please-please don’t… don’t stop.” She shuddered under the covers, her body shaking and a blush furious on her sleeping face. Her eyes were scrunched, the Asgore in her dreams driving her mad.

	“Asgore I’m… I’m-” Her eyes shot open, her mind finally catching up with what it was dreaming. She felt regret and shame heavy make a pit in her stomach like a stone. Disgust rose up her throat, her mind racing to catch up and make excuses. She felt sick. Sick with everything, sick with herself and sick with Asgore. Sick with the Underground and with the Surface. She was both ill and awful, and couldn’t get these thoughts out of her head.

	She missed him so much, his soft gentle touch that was firm when and where it needed to be, his ever so dark brown eyes, his arms, his legs, his chest, his head, everything in between. His floppy ears and proud horns, his stupid indecisiveness and his sweet words. His golden beard that was just soft enough, but still scratchy to make her giggle. His luxurious coat that she could lose herself in, and the gorgeous blonde fur that graced his stark white coat. She missed his body, and missed his soul.

	She hated him, his cowardice and murder. His extension of everyone’s suffering and the false hope. How he made everything worse and stopped six lives short, preaching war and revenge and hate. How he made her leave, how the last thing she saw of him before her exile was not the monster she married, but a twisted beast in his clothing, writhing and clawing in his warped skin. He was not the man she loved, and never would be.

	Or was he? Had he changed? Was he the Asgore from so many years ago? Did she need him, or did she just need someone in her life. She was being torn in half, the bones cracking and sinew tearing, her fur stained and her organs all out of whack. A civil war in her stomach, a revolt in her lungs. An infection was spreading, though it wasn’t a virus. She didn’t feel well.

	She felt sick.

	She wanted to scream. To curse. To punch, kick, go for low blows on the bastard called life. She felt like she had myxomatosis, things under her skin, things on her skin. Stuck to her, her fur growing heavy. Her brains getting scattered. A wolf was at the door, threatening her, and her family. Telling her the ways he’s going to mess her up. Nothing she could do could stop him.

	She felt like she was falling. Falling from queenship. Falling in love. Falling from heaven and meeting the perfect person. Falling from his arms. Falling from the perfect life under the Earth. Falling from yesterday, falling even further in the past. Falling out of her skin, and into something that was two sizes too tight. Tension, tension, tension. She couldn’t take it. Pills falling from a bottle. She didn’t want to fall from anything, she just wanted a simple life.

	A happy life.

	She wanted to know what happened last night, what Asgore did, what Frisk did, what left her child so numb. Why Asgore didn’t come in to explain. Why he didn’t want her to worry about him. Was he okay? Did he need help, someone to wipe his tears and hold him tight? Did he deserve it, should she come? She wanted to yell these questions to the stars, to the sun, to someone with answers. She wanted answers.

	Answers she had to get herself.

	“Mom?” asked Frisk, who had woken up. “Mom, are you okay?”

	No. “Yes, I’m fine, dear.” She yawned, “Why do you ask?”

	Her shoulders were jacked up, her eyes open wider than normal, her blood pressure above average. Her hands were clenched and her knuckles whiter than her natural color, her short claws digging into the heel of her palm. Her teeth were grinding together. “You look… tense.”

	Toriel rubbed her eyes and fixed most of the facts on the list, “I have just been… thinking about hard topics, Frisk. Sorry to alarm you.”

	There was short pause, Frisk looked down. “You’re worried about Asgore.”

	Yes. “No. I’m just worried about myself, my child. I need to sort some things out.”

	She needed a solution, to figure out if she needed him. Some sort of deus ex machina, an intervention, some divine intervention to solve everything, to clear her mind and find that solution. To figure out the answer to all of these questions.

	She needed answers.