The Garden, Chapter 8; Memories

	The heavy door opened with a creak, somehow even the hinges seemed old. The room was monochromatic, and in the same setup as Asgore’s room in New Home, though a few bookshelves, a TV and a small chair occupied some empty space. It was boring, but similarly so. It wasn’t a drab attempt like the dirty white on the walls of the rest of the house. It was a simple grey, with other contrasting greys. A single window was on the western wall, on the chest of drawers next to the  sill was a single flower pot, a lonely buttercup stood in the ceramic, the yellow-gold adding a spark of color to the otherwise boring room. Next to the pot was a green plastic watering can, shaped similarly to a dragon.

	One thing that Frisk noticed nearly immediately was that everything seemed… dusty. Nothing was moved much, and it seemed Like Asgore spent as little time as he could in the room.  It seemed to unsettle as she entered the room, as if they knew she shouldn’t be there. She walked carefully over to his writing desk, his journal open to today’s page. She ran her hand across the oaken surface, a thick layer of dust sticking to her hand.

	She noticed today’s date written on the page, ‘Nice Day Today!’ Was written next to it in Asgore usual loopy scrawl, though something seemed off. She looked at past logs, the same three words written over and over again, dating way back. Though, the ‘N’ seemed… forced, as if he couldn’t write the word at first. It varied from day to day, but was still present to back when he reached the Surface. She tried not to think about it too much, moving onto the next thing to look at.

	The bookshelves seemed nearly empty, the wooden frame caked in dust and the books lying about unorderly, some dustier than others. Old leather-bound tomes were pressed neatly against the shelf, all of them devoid of any dust. They had no title, and seemed older than even Asgore. The spines were cracked, though they still held strong. Light claw marks and small amounts of wear was on the covers. She recognized one, he read it to her one night as a goodnight story.

	She shook her head, moving on to the one window, the only source of light in the room. The flower stared out towards the horizon, the neighboring houses blocking it’s view. It looked oddly sad, though Frisk couldn’t place why. She picked up the watering can, the water sloshing in the plastic container, it felt about half full. She sprinkled a small amount of water over the golden petals, the flower seeming to perk up a little bit. She smiled, setting it down and opening the first drawer.

	It looked no different than it did in New Home, though new articles of clothes fit for the climate of the surface now occupied some of the space. Robes, button up shirts, a few sweaters… and Asgore’s old pink ‘Mr. Dad Guy’ sweater, not a wrinkle in sight. It hadn’t been moved in a while, probably not since the move. It looked soft, and the perfect size for the Dad Guy, though he never wore it. Frisk looked behind her, the ‘Nose Nuzzle Champs ‘98!’ not in it’s usual place.

	She looked through the wardrobe next to her, the doors creaking in protest as she opened them. It was cluttered, as if he just threw things he didn’t need, or perhaps didn’t want to see, in there. His Santa Claus outfit was crumpled on the bottom, all wrinkled and worthless. She grabbed the getup, noticing the Nose Nuzzling trophy hidden under it, along with a picture frame.

	It was a macaroni art of a flower, ‘For King Dad!’ written on the bottom in childlike handwriting. Frisk faltered, setting the frame down gently. What was she doing? Why was she going through these relics of Asgore’s that he obviously didn’t want anybody to see. Sure, she had already seen them before, but now… it seemed wrong.

	She shook her head, moving back to the door, it didn’t feel right to do this. On her way out, past the TV, something caught her foot, making her stumble and fall forward. She looked at the culprit, the corner of a cardboard box poking out from next to the chair near the TV. That wasn’t there last time she was in his room.

	‘Leave, don’t do it,’ she said to herself, ‘this isn’t right.’ She didn’t listen, moving over to see the contents. In black marker was simply written, ‘Good Days.’ Slowly, she opened it up, but what was inside surprised her.

	There were several VHS tapes. She didn’t recognise these in the True Lab, those were labeled as if they were from a crime scene, ‘Tape 1,’ and ‘Tape 2.’ Oddly enough, these had two separate labels both much more sentimental and seemed like care was taken into the name. One  was older than the other, the handwriting different on each. The older ones were dates, written in what seemed like Toriel’s handwriting, ‘Summer 01,’ ‘The Big Day 02,’ and the second label seemed shoehorned on, as if they were an afterthought, in Asgore’s usual scrawl, though they were oddly named, ‘The Big Announcement,’ ‘The Happiest Day of My Life.’

	They had obvious wear, as if they were used often for many, many years. They seemed to be in order, so Frisk took the first in the set. The VCR sat next to the TV, which was an old CRT. She turned the old technology on, the screen flickering to life. She pushed the tape titled “Summer ‘01; The Big Announcement’ into the slot, the picture on the screen changing.

~~~

	It looked like New Home, yet in a room that Frisk had never been in before, but looked very familiar. The camera was angled at the bed, Asgore lying in his nightwear, a book in his hands.

	“Gorey?” Came Toriel’s voice, from behind the camera.

	He looked up from the tome. “Yes, dear? Why do you have a camera?”

	“Shush!” She said, chuckling, “I have really big news… I’m pregnant.”

	Asgore looked shocked, “R-Really?”

	“Yes!” You could hear the absolute happiness in her voice, “You’re going to be a father.”

	He was up and out of the bed in an instant, a white blur to the lens. The camera shook a bit, Toriel giggling in what was presumably an enthusiastic hug, “Golly! That… That’s amazing!” A kiss was heard, “I love you so much.”

	“What should we name them?” She asked.

	“Well, we don’t know if they will be a boy or a girl yet, honey.” He said, chuckling a little bit, excitement still in his voice.

	“Well, we should be prepared for both. What if we have twins!”

	“I don’t think I could divide all of my love between three people, Tori.” he joked, a smile on his face.

	She smiled back, nuzzling him. “Dummy,” she said lovingly.

	Static

~~~

	The tape slid from the VHS, Frisk taking it and setting it back into the box. She took the next one in line, putting it into it’s place.

	‘Fall 01; Mommy Tummy’

~~~

	It was the kitchen, the main view of Toriel washing dishes, the camera was set on a counter. Asgore came into view, wrapping his arms around his wife and burying his nose into the crook of her neck. She giggled and squirmed, turning back and looking at her king.

	“How’s my favorite ‘momster’ doing?” He asked, kissing her on the cheek.

	She set down the sudsy plate, a quiet clink sounding from the sink, “Great, now that you’re here.” She said, kissing him back, “How was dinner?”

	“Scrumptious as always, honey.” He slowly rocked on his feet, moving side to side, “Your meals are always something I look forward to.”

She chuckled, “Good answer.” Her hands returned to the soapy dishes, scrubbing off the remnants of the last meal.

	“No, no, no, Tori,” he said, pushing her back, “I’ll do this, you just sit down and relax.”

	She wiped her hands off with a stray towel, moving back from the sink, “Thanks Gorey, you are the sweetest.”

	“I do not think I could ever take that title from you, dear.” She gave him a short kiss, “I’ll join you when I finish these.” She nodded, taking the camera from where it was resting. Yawning, she moved to the living room, sitting down in her favorite chair.

	She lazily rocked in ‘Chariel’, picking up her glasses and the book she had been reading. Finding her page, she silently read through the page. After a short while, Asgore poked his head from entryway to the kitchen, moving back next to her.

	Closing her book, she looked back and smiled, “That was quick.”

	He matched her grin, “I just could not stand being away from you for so long.” He rested a hand on her slightly protruding belly, “How are you feeling?”

	“I’m feeling perfectly fine,” she put her own hand on top of his, “I’m a bit anxious, though.”

	“They say that those who are anxious are living in the future,” he chuckled, “I think that’s completely normal.”

	She sighed, relaxing back into the chair further. She looked tired, yet happy.

	“Oh, I think I’ve come up with a name for our son.” He said, excitement spreading across his face.

	“Really?” She asked, “What is it?”

	“Asriel.”

	There was a short pause, “Is that just a combination of our names, Asgore?”

	“N-No...”

	Static

~~~

	Frisk paused at the next one, her conscious taking another attack. She couldn’t tell why she wanted to watch these, why she shouldn’t just leave and turn off the TV, forget everything that she’s seen. But this awful, morbid curiosity burned inside of her, something she felt before but could ignore. This time she couldn’t.

	She pushed the next tape in, ‘Summer 03, The Proudest I’ve Ever been.”

~~~

	It was in the main living room, the camera in Toriel’s hands and was focused on a little ball of fluff in a green and yellow onesie. He was crawling about on the floor, his motor skills not yet fully developed.

	“Come on now, I know you can do it,” said Toriel. “Come on.”

	The toddler moved forward on his all fours, still a little wobbly. He took an adventurous move, bringing his arms up. The camera leaned forward, Toriel nearly gasping. Asriel stood up on his two feet, his arms out for balance. He looked unsteady, yet still happy as could be. He stuck one foot out, his body traversing forward.

	“Gorey!” Toriel called, “Gorey hurry!”

	Heavy footsteps were heard coming down the hall, Asgore in his dark purple robe coming in hastily to the room, “Yes? honey? Is something wrong?”

	“Da!” The child yelled ecstatically, putting the one foot in front of the other. Asgore was in shock as he stared down at his son. His next step took him a bit too far out of bounds, making him tumble over, yet he giggled as he picked himself up and tried again, making his rocky way forward to the king.

	Asgore was speechless, his son taking his first steps. He knelt down with wide arms, motioning the little tike forward. The face of pure cheer on both of their faces was amazing, Asriel finally making his way to his father, wrapping his tiny arms around his chest. Asgore picked the child up. Asriel laughed and threw his arms up, saying “Da!” again and again.

	Toriel chuckled, “I think he likes you, dear.”

	“I think so too.”

	Static

~~~

	One last tape, the box now empty. Frisk took a deep breath, judging by the name… this one will probably be the most painful. The VCR whirred into life, no turning back now.

	‘Spring ‘02; The Happiest Day of My Life’

~~~

	The walls were sterilized white, the camera looking down at Asgore’s knee, which was nervously shaking. His hand tried to hold it still, but it wasn’t enough.

	“King Dreemurr?” said a feminine voice. “You may come in, your son is expecting you.”

	The door opened, Toriel was lying in the hospital bed, machines next to her. A bundle in green cloth was in her arms. She looked up at Asgore, her eyes tired but her face was calm. Asgore took slow steps to her side, the camera viewing the inside of the bundle. Asriel was in her arms, a light layer of white fuzz on his face, his eyes still shut. Asgore moved his finger in gently, stroking the newborn’s head. Asriel’s tiny paws clutched at the king’s finger. A silent bleat came from his maw.

	“I think he likes you.” Toriel said, chuckling at Asgore’s fascination. “Here, hold him for a while.” She handed the babe to Asgore, who traded the camera for him.. He looked down at the child. His child. He was so giddy, so ecstatic, yet calm all the same. He was a father. All of his life, he wanted to settle down and have a family, and there it was.

	“Asgore… You’re crying.”

	“I’m… I’m so happy.” He said, his eyes still glued to his child, “I never thought I would love something as much as I loved you. I just want this to last forever.”

	“Aw... Gorey.” Toriel said, “You’re going to make me cry.”

	“I just know, that no matter what happens now, we shouldn’t be afraid of the future.

	“Because... today has been the most perfect day I’ve ever seen.”

	Static

~~~

	Frisk sniffled. Everything made sense. His odd attitude, his odd house, his odd room. He was hiding everything from everyone, he wanted to not burden anybody with anything. Nothing meant more to him than the one family that didn’t love him. His life was nothing more than a lie, just to keep everything from falling apart.

	The door opened, yellow light flooding in from the hallway, “Frisk, are you in here?” It was Asgore, “Oh, there you are! What are you…” That everything just cracked.

	Frisk couldn’t hide anything, the tape was in the VCR, the other three sprawled across the floor. The TV was on, the light ringing filling the air. She was guilty, and felt awful for it.

	“Oh…” was his only response.

	She wanted to hug him, to bury her face in his belly and cry, tell him she was sorry, that she didn’t mean to. But she couldn’t, she was frozen. Time stood still, Asgore knew everything and so did Frisk. The world was crashing down onto their shoulders and they didn’t even try to hold it up.

	“Well… I’ll just, um… take you home. Ok?” He said, not fully aware if it was him talking or not. Frisk just simply nodded, she couldn’t even look at Asgore as she did. She didn’t deserve to, not after she dug his chest open and learned everything.

	She didn’t remember the car ride, or even getting in the car. She was suddenly at the driveway of Toriel’s house. “Frisk,” he said, “Please… please don’t tell Toriel. She doesn’t need to worry about me. Not with what I’ve done.”

~~~

	Toriel sat on her bed, Sans and Papyrus had long been away. It wasn’t late, not by a long margin, but she felt exhausted. Her thoughts kept going back to what Papyrus said, and in turn she would keep thinking about Asgore.

	She didn’t know what to think anymore. Half of her hated him, but half of her felt the opposite. Her head and her heart were torn, far worse than she had ever they ever could be. They had spent centuries together, living with one another, being almost inseparable. They ruled the Underground, functioning like a well oiled machine. He had been her first love, and she was the same for him.

	She delved even further, her feelings taking over. How they would just spend the days doing nothing, just enjoying the other’s company. How some nights they would just lay in bed, the feeling of the other him next to her, his warmth, his strength flooding into her. The ruins were cold, and no matter how much fire magic she knew she could never get rid of it.

	God how she missed him, his low, calm voice. His goofy and sometimes air headed demeanor. She missed the nights when the underground began to fall into sleep, she would rest her head on his chest, his torso acting as a soft pillow. He would kiss the top of her head, sometimes her hand would twist with the soft fur on his belly, sometimes even venturing further depending on the night. She missed seeing smile, or making him laugh with a silly pun. She missed hugging him, his burly arms making her feel safer than any Royal Guard. Hell, she even missed his obnoxious snores.

	She looked over her empty bed, just-about-queen-sized-yet-not-quite, it was begging for another person to join her. The memories were flooding back, especially how much he loved to cuddle. He was rather good as well.

	She looked over, her phone sat on her night stand. She reached out and grabbed it. She had his number, though never had she called it, and their messages contained nothing but formalities about Frisk. She typed in, ‘Asgore, can we talk?’

	Her thumb hovered over the ‘Send’ button. Should she do this? Did she miss him, or did she miss the companionship of having someone else in her life? She dropped it, burying her face into her hands.

	She didn’t know anymore.

	She heard the front door open, and went to investigate. Frisk was standing at the entrance, the door still open.

	“Frisk? Why are you here, I thought you were staying the night with Go… Asgore.” Asked the old queen.

	“Something… happened.” Said Frisk, walking over to Toriel, “Something bad.” The child buried her face into Toriel’s robe.

	Her worry turned to anger for an instant. “What did he do?” There was venom in her voice, yet she didn’t mean to ask it aloud.

	“It-It was my fault. Don’t blame him.” She said, her voice breaking as tears formed in her eyes. “He- He didn’t do anything, I went- I went and…”

	“Shhh, shhh, It will be alright, my child.” What did Asgore do? “Can you tell me what happened?”

	“I-I promised not to tell.”

	What did Asgore do? “Why not?”

	“He d-doesn’t want you to worry about him. I… I opened up some old wounds that probably shouldn’t have been opened.”

	Toriel didn’t know what to think, “Well, we’ll talk more about it in the morning, come on. Do you want to sleep with me tonight?” She offered. Frisk nodded meekly, taking her mother’s hand, and going to bed.

~~~

	Asgore looked down at his crown, the metal shining in the dim light of his room. It seemed so light now, but he could still feel the weight on his head. It was imple, just a ornate ring of gold, though it may as well have been of lead. He rubbed his neck, the imaginary strain and knots it caused felt so real. For all of those years, he held his head high with that on his head, though every day it got harder. It plagued his mind, grief and bitterness showing their ugly faces sometimes when he let his guard down. He would snap at guards without meaning to, and be rude to his subjects. The thing was poisoning him, yet it was all in his head.

	He looked at it closer, it was thin, easily breakable. His frown furrowed, his hands shaking. He wanted badly to let the anger take over, destroy the thing that fueled it. To do something reckless and impulsive, if only once in his life. It would be so easy, his hands could snap it, mold it, turn it into an expensive ball of nothing.

	He looked into the open wardrobe, the memorabilia still in view. He could imagine the pink sweater, how easy it could burn, the soft thread and memories just fuel to the endless flame. It was almost funny, really. How easy things could turn into nothing.

	But no one was laughing.

	Something finally snapped in his chest, something primal and hidden. The feelings he had been bottling up finally broke, torrents of raw emotion flooding in his torso. He felt like he was in a tsunami, gasping, sputtering, flailing to get his head above the waves, to not give up and drown in the sadness. Though it was draining and never ending, only a matter of time until it didn’t matter.

	He didn’t know what to feel anymore, so he only felt numb.

~~~

	Toriel sped down the hallway, opening the door. Soft light made the room light up slightly, though it was still too dark to see. Heavy sobs filled the room from Asgore. They were wails of pure sadness they seemed to shake the room, as well as his silhouette.

	She wrapped her arms around him, “Shhh,” she shushes, trying to calm him, “Asgore. Asgore, please, I’m here. Calm down, please.”
His cries continued, but were not at all as loud. She continued to shush him, and he slowly calmed down, silent sobs wracking his body.

	“It’s all okay, don’t worry.” She said, pulling him tighter into the hug, “I’m here for you.”

	His body rested, and his arms wrapped back around hers. Everything was still. Perfectly still.

	Static

~~~

	The tape slid out, Asgore releasing the eject button from under his finger. He took it in his hands delicately, as if it was made of glass. He looked down at the label, ‘For when I’m not there but you need me. -Love Tori.’

	He chuckled a smile on his lips, “If she knew I still had these, she’d never forgive me.”

	His laughing stopped, and his smile began to crumble. The letters smeared slightly as tears fell onto the tag, the tape trembling in his hands.

	“God, I’m pathetic.”