Three Years

	Three years. It had been three years since Asgore’s life had begun to crumble. Three years since he became the monster he swore he never was going to be. Three years since everyone that was closest to him had been lost to him. He woke in the lonely morning for the eleven hundredth time, still in the back of his mind hoping to be greeted by the soft fur of the love of his life, only to realize he was still clutching at the cold sheets, begging for another chance.

	He wiped the sleep and sadness from his eyes, his head slumped as he rose from his old wedding bed. In his groggy daze, he looked about the grey room, wishing it had been a different shade. Everything was bleak, like it had no reason to be there. Even the old trophy was made of silver, almost to taunt him, the grey reflecting grey. He sighed, trying to get the memories out of his head.

	Tea had always been there, always bitter, yet in a sweet way that he had always loved. It calmed his nerves and woke him up, helping him get through the day. A shaky smile appeared on his lips as the familiar shrill tone of the kettle ringing out. The warmth seeping into his fingers, spreading through him as he poured and took a sip. He sighed once more, enjoying another sip. Then another. Then another.

	Cup in hand, Asgore stepping from the kitchen, taking a seat in his old chair. It creaked and groaned, but still held strong under the weight. The photos on the walls seemed to stare at him, the happy smiles and cheery eyes. It made him feel uneasy, but he was used to the feeling. He’s seen it several times a day for three years. He tried to avert his gaze, but he still felt their happy looks burning into him, as if they wanted him to join them.

	There was one face that looked especially hard.

~~~

	The heavy stone door of the ruins hadn’t been opened for three years, and no one dared to try to open it again. The trip wasn’t the safest, and the cold kept most monsters at bay. Asgore stood at the entrance, the Delta Rune staring back at him.

	He sat against the door, the snow melting and sticking to his cape, making him shiver. Frozen snow fell from above, catching in his beard and hair. Though, the most cold thing was the door, it seemed to sap the warmth from his very soul. He looked up at the top of the cave, though he couldn’t see the ceiling, only white. Knocking on the door, he opened his mouth to speak.

	“I, um…” he started, his voice weak, “Hi, Tori. I came to talk… for a bit.” He sighed, not even sure if she was listening.

	“I… I understand that you hate me. I understand if you don’t even want to listen to me right now. But… I need your help. I can’t… I can’t run this god forsaken hell on my own.” He voice cracked, his tears joining the snow on his face. “I need help. I need someone like you know knows how everything works, how to run a government. The only thing I know how run is my mouth.

	“I’m not asking you to forgive me, I’m not asking for you to be my wife. I just…”

	He didn’t know what he wanted. He didn’t know anything.

	“I just need someone who knows what I’ve been through, who knows my pain. I need someone that knows me well enough for that.” He rested his head against the cold stone, not even sure why he expected a response. Closing his eyes, he waited for even the slightest shift in the door, the quietest noise from the other side.

	But nothing happened.

	“Thought as much.” He lifted himself up, sighing once more, “I’ll just, uh, stay out of your live then Toriel. Sorry to try to bother you.” He sniffed, rocking on his heels.

	“Sorry for everything.”