Epilogue, part II

Cars blocked up the driveway, filling from the interior of the garage and onto the edge of the asphalt. It was getting dark, and the lights from within the house shone out into the darkening lawn, taking over from what little sunlight was left. Windows were open to let in the summer breeze, and bustling sound could be heard from within. Laughing. the clinking of plates and silverware, and idle chatter spilled out and mingled with the gentle gusts as the sun’s withering golds and yellows faded into the deep blues that would become the cover of night.

Toriel’s hands lovingly placed another new picture onto the wall to the sound of friends cheering and whooping. Sitting neatly within a rosewood frame sat a picture of Frisk, dressed neatly in a cap and gown. Next to it hung a similar picture of Asriel. Proud smiles were seen on both faces, but both not nearly as proud as those found on Toriel or Asgore.

The latter sat on the couch next to Frisk and Asriel, beaming with pride and embracing the two and unable to find the right words. The gesture wasn’t lost on either, and it had already said enough.

The house was full. Frisk’s adult life was just starting, as was Asriel’s, and so everyone they knew and cherished had come over to celebrate. The future was bright, and the present ever sweeter for it.

Toriel hadn’t kept track of how long she had been glowering over those pictures. The oven ringing out snapped her back to the present and swiftly earned her attention. “Oh dear!”

She scuttled to the kitchen and quickly retrieved the three separate tiers of a handsome, rich chocolate cake, ready to be iced. Setting the dessert onto the counter, she searched for something appropriate to serve it on. “Undyne?”

She had been browsing one of many scrapbooks with Alphys. “Yeah?”

“Dear, could you get one of my serving platters? I have the best one stored in the garage. Big blue crate next to the door.”

“You got it! Be right back, Al.”

“Okay.”

The door opened to let in that cool, rushing air, she and the other monsters had grown to love so much. Eight years of it blowing through her hair had never gotten old, and every time she or the others felt it, old dreams came back to life. She basked in it for a second or two before closing the door behind her. Before her was Asgore’s car and behind that, his gardening equipment, the outside light (or what little was left, mostly from the moon) spilling onto them from the open garage door. To the left, a washer and dryer, and to the right, a stack of plastic crates, the second being what she had been looking for. Pulling it out from below the top crate, she opened it and saw a handsome, silver dish, no doubt what Toriel was looking for.

As she set the top crate back up, she noticed something written on blue tape on its side. She recognized it immediately. The tote and its contents belonged to her. Toriel and Asgore had been kind enough to hold it and several other of its kind over while she and Alphys had moved from a humble apartment to a small house of their own. Apparently, she had neglected to retrieve all of them.

She opened it and was met with many different and wonderful memories. Old photos of her and Alphys and that wonderful white gown that could never hide her perpetual blush), her and Papyrus’ old pirate flag, and …

The helmet.

His helmet.

Pulling it out from under the black flag, she looked it over. It felt like she was holding some long-lost artifact (which, in essence, it indeed was), and she cradled it close, as if it would shatter to pieces should she let it fall, disregarding its actual inherent durability. The sigil on the brow, the opaque, hazy turquoise visor, all brought memories, both good and bad, flooding back to her. That first meeting, the bitter battles, and of course, that parting.

She hadn’t been keeping track of how long she had lost herself in sad nostalgia. Toriel opened the door, inquiring after her.

“Undyne dear, did you find it?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, here…” She handed over the silver platter with one hand and held onto the helmet with the other.

“Why thank you dear, I-“ It was then that she noticed what Undyne was holding. “Oh my… is that…?”

“Looks like me and Al haven’t picked up everything yet…”

“I see… do you need a moment?”

‘Actually…” she put whatever was displaced back into the tote and set back atop the stack. “I’m coming inside with you.” The helmet still sat snugly under her arm.

Without another word, both stepped back into the house. Toriel attended to her dessert while Undyne walked back to the hearth in the living room. Papyrus and Sans had started a board game on the coffee table with Frisk and Asriel. Asgore and Alphys continued to browse through the old scrapbook, looking fondly through old memories of the past eight years. Mettaton wasn’t present in body, but in spirit, as his live program MTT tonight blared out on the television. Undyne smiled as she let the happy sight sink in before approaching the extinguished hearth, placing the helmet on the shelf above it, under the many pictures that hung overhead and beside it. She sat back down with her old mentor and dear friend, her eyes barely removing themselves from that hearth and all that lay above it.

“Hey Undyne, look!” Alphys giddily pointed to another photo, this time of the two of them on a ferric wheel. ‘Remember when we… Undyne? “

She and Asgore both saw that Helmet, as did all other eyes in the room, which soon bore no sound save for the TV and Toriel’s cooking. Most had not seen that visor in eight years, and its sudden appearance had a paralyzing effect. It took some time to wear off, and a notable while had passed before anything other than Mettaton’s interview could be heard in the house. Hands began once again to flip through photo-filled pages and hand over board game money.  Friendly trash talk resumed, as did fawning over old memories, but as much as everyone tried, no one could truly exorcise the helmet from their mind’s eye, and every now and then, someone would shoot a glance towards it

The game ended with Papyrus in possession of all property. “I win! Who’s up for another round?”

Asriel couldn’t help but chuckle. “Against you? Nah I’m good, man!”

“Ah, don’t be such a chicken!”

“Hey Asriel…” the prince felt Frisk’s hand on his shoulder. “Can I talk with you for a sec?”

“Sure. Guys?”

“We gotcha.” Sans winked and pulled out another game. “Pap, one-on-one?”

“You bet!”

The two walked upstairs, through the entertainment room and the upper porch/balcony. Frisk slid the glass door closed behind them, and they found themselves alone.

“What’d you need? I can tell something went off when Undyne put Doomguy’s helmet by the mantle.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty related to that, I guess.”

“What’s up?”

“I… I dunno. I guess I just feel… I mean, back when you weren’t you, the biggest thing on my mind was to save you. The moment we came out of the underground, you were on my mind.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah… and now it’s happening again.”

“You wish there was a way to bring him back, don’t you?”

“… yes.”

Asriel leaned his arms against the banister, gazing downward. “I do too.”

“I just… I just feel I owe him that. We all do.”

“Is that how you felt with me?”

“Kind of. I guess one can assume that, given how you broke the barrier, but… I wanted to save you because I grew to care for you. I felt so terrible for you. After hearing you and Chara’s story, I was heartbroken. When I met you – the real you for the first time, after our fight… I just wanted to carry you home, bring you back somehow. I cared so much about you.”

A little twinkle in her eyes temporarily overpowered the melancholy as she drew close and leaned her head on his shoulder. “And well, we kinda see how that’s developed…”

Asriel couldn’t help but blush. “Aheheh, yeah…”

“But him… I dunno. It just felt so rotten to leave him there. I mean, what kind of life is that? How can anyone be doomed to live that way? Just fighting in some pit in Hell forever...”

A familiar voice sounded from behind them. “I don’t think you guys are giving him enough credit.”

The two jumped as they heard Sans and faced him with surprised eyes, cheeks flushed.

“Heh heh. Sorry. I wasn’t interrupting anything particularly private, was I?

Frisk, let out a nervous laugh through her nose. “No, you’re okay.”

Sans paused, trying to find the right words. “But yeah. I think he’s actually where he should be.”

Asriel’s brow turned upward. “Sans, how could you say that?! Don’t you know where he is right now?”

“I do know.”

Firsk’s countenance mirrored her friend’s. ‘Then what gives? I thought you’d want to save him too, wouldn’t you? If you had the chance?”

“You guys should know more than anyone how much I owe him. We’ve talked about this. No one but us was especially familiar with resets until we had to spill the beans. Yes, Frisk, I would like to ‘save him,’ but that’s when we’ve gotta learn to define ‘save,’ kiddo.”

“What do you mean?”

“You remember when I tried pulling him out? When we all tried getting him to leave?”

“Yeah…” Asriel’s eyes shifted to and fro in thought. “Yeah, I remember. He wanted to stay. He wouldn’t let us bring him with us…”

“And why do you think so?”

“I-I don’t know!” He might as well have spoken for Frisk. Both couldn’t wrap their heads around it.

“I think I know. It’s because he has a job to do.”

“But we finished that job! The crux is in pieces. Everything they’ve taken over the ages has been taken from them. Doomguy made sure of that.”

“And he’s gonna keep making sure of it. It’s a tough job, Asriel. Someone’s gotta do it, and I personally don’t think anyone else could if they tried. I think he knows that. Doesn’t matter if the crux is gone. There’s still a lot of them left, and he knows he’s the only one who can keep them down. It’s what he wants”

Frisk and Asriel were silent. They had no rebuttal.

“There was something else he wanted too… You guys are probably wondering why I’m jabbering about it though, huh?”

Asriel tried his best to be congenial. “Ah, don’t sweat it, you’re all good.”

“No, really. You guys remember the last thing he ever said to us, right?”

Something was dawning on both of them.

“’Go and live,’ wasn’t it? ‘Live and be happy,’ or something along those lines, if I remember correctly.”

“I remember that too.” Frisk answered.

“Then, hey…” Sans opened the sliding door and stepped back inside. “I don’t think he’d like to see you guys like this.”

“No.” A tired smile crept back onto Asriel’s face. “No, he wouldn’t.”

“And you know what? For everything we owe him, I think that’s all he’d want in return.”

They could hear Toriel calling out from the kitchen. “Okay everyone! Cake Is ready!” The sound of excited voices and hurried footsteps soon followed.

“Sounds like that’s our cue.” And with that, Sans flashed one more encouraging smile before turning about and beyond the doorframe. The other two followed, only to look left and right and see he had vanished.

Frisk snorted a little. “Him and his shortcuts - oh!” She was taken by surprise as Asriel took her by the hand.

“Come on. Everyone’s waiting for us!”

They ran back down the stairs, and for the rest of the night, they relished in their loved ones’ company. No, the thoughts of the Marine wouldn’t entirely go away, nor would they be the only ones to shoot a quick glance at that helmet, but their minds were put at ease. With that ease came a renewed sense of gratitude for that silent, fearsome, irreverent, and selfless man who had done and sacrificed so much for them.

As the night grew old, and the morning hours drew close, dear friends began to part. Hugs and congratulations were shared before the sound of the front and garage doors shutting and tires crunching gravel as they pulled out and away, all the way on back home wherever home was. Lights began dimming in the Dreemurr household, and each resident bid goodnight.

The younger ones found it a little hard to find sleep. Their despair over the old Praetor had waned, but it didn’t mean their thoughts had yet rid themselves of his image. Pillow talk inevitably ensued, and as if they could read each other’s minds, their mouths found the same subject.

Frisk looked across the room to Asriel in his bed. “Do you think he’ll ever come back?”

“I dunno how to answer that, Frisk.”

“I mean, it’s not impossible is it? Once he’s done?”

“I don’t know how to answer that either. I mean… probably? I wouldn’t rule it out, but I wouldn’t hold my breath.”

He wasn’t telling her anything she didn’t know in her heart already. “I wouldn’t either but…”

“I know what you’re feeling.” He faced the ceiling, arms splayed out. “You know, every now and then I have nightmares… nightmares of being Flowey again. I-I don’t wanna go into too much detail, but…”

He was tearing up and sniffling a little. Frisk knew what this usually meant, and she didn’t need or want to pry. All she need to do was comfort him. “Asriel, it’s okay.”

“And I have nightmares about what I did… to Mom and Dad, to Undyne, to Papyrus, to Alphys, and especially to you…”

“Asriel, it’s alright. It wasn’t you. You weren’t all there…”

“I know but…” Asriel stopped. He knew if he went any further, he wouldn’t be able to stop teas from flowing, and it wasn’t a conversation they haven’t had before in some shape or form anyway, so he let what he wanted to say roll off. “I just… I just don’t know how I’d ever repay him for what he did, for what he gave up.”

“He wouldn’t ask that of you…”

“I know…” It took a little sucking up,, but he managed to wipe the tears from his face. “I know.”

Silence persisted, and as the night dragged on, neither Frisk nor Asriel knew if it had been hours or minutes. Drowsiness began to take hold and eyelids became heavy, but before Frisk’s would close, her aching consciousness fought to get one last word out, hoping Asriel was still awake to hear it.

“Do you think he ever thinks of us?”

“… I’d be surprised if he didn’t.”

“Yeah…”

“Good night, Frisk.”

“Good night, Asriel.”

Suddenly, sleep became all the easier to find, and as it fell upon them both, whatever sadness lingered in their thoughts found its way out with their consciousness.