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scartale-an-undertale-au · 7 years

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Papers of Homelessness - Chapter 29

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BEFORE | NEXT

a/n: the snowball had begun its descent. poor chara not getting a break from me XD

Your back was extremely warm when you woke up again. You blinked and rubbed the sleep out of your eyes and gave a big yawn, standing up and stretching, a loud clack alerting you that you were stretched enough. Slumping, you turned to look at what made you so warm.

You jumped, your face and ears burning.

Frisk was sleeping with her back to you, face covered with her hair and limbs sprawled outwards… at least she didn’t sleep on you. You tried to push away your blush and pulled the covers back over Frisk, brushing back her hair so she would not suffocate on it and then rushed out of the room.

It was still the middle of the night so you went down the stairs, wanting to get your bag and get home. Man, your mother is going to be pissed off. This was the third night you were late… and didn’t tell her.

See? A phone didn’t help either!

You opened the door to find Grillby next to the high table you normally filled the sandwiches on, a black notebook open and a nightlight lit next to him, washing everything in soft orange. Grillby tapped with his pen on his glasses and then scribbled something down.

“Grillbz?” You called and the man looked up. “…Hi.” You waved awkwardly and grabbed a bar chair, bringing it next to your boss and then sat down, looking over the notebook. You pointed at where he was calculating the expanses. “You did a minus here.”

The redhead looked down, his hair seeming to be on fire in the dim light, and then nodded. “…Thank you…”

You shrugged. “Don’t want to end up with minus money.”

“…Pun.”

Dammit. Sans was rubbing off on you already.

Grillby’s mouth turned to a flat line and his eyes crinkled a tad bit. “Are you… better?”

You nodded, feeling embarrassment heat up your face from the memory of being all over Frisk like a baby unable to hold his head up. “Sorry for the trouble. I don’t know what went over me.”

“…It’s okay…” Grillby replied, standing up and going for the sink, and soon the sound of bubbling waters echoed in the room while you took the pen and begun going over the numbers and the dates of different appointments and payments. You noticed that he had raised Frisk’s salary since last month and sighed to yourself at the new title next to her name – ‘Protector’. You didn’t like the reminder of Frisk’s ‘side job’. You looked at your nickname and chuckled – 'Narrator’.

Well, old habits die hard. You grinned and scribbled next to Grillby’s name 'Deadpan’ before returning to the calculations and the littles ideas you had gotten from stories your Job Critique class professor had told his students.

A mug of steaming herbal tea was placed next to the notebook and you looked up to see Grillby sit next to you while sipping from his own tea.

“Thanks, Grillbz,” You muttered and put the mug to your lips, inhaling the spicy sweet smell of ginger and honey. A good way to wake you up.

Said man nodded and then perked up. You stared at him in confusion. He tapped his cup. “Told… your mother…”

You should be glad that she won’t kill you… but knowing Grillby he told her exactly what had happened… shit.

“Really, Grillbz?” You groaned. “She’s not going to let me leave the house now.”

“She… was worried…”

“I know, I know. But you could have just told her that I’m sick or something…”

You sighed. “Whatever, I’ll just get home and get this over with.”

“I'll… drive you…”

“Thanks…”

Silence fell over you two for a moment before you realized that you had a question to ask. You lowered your mug, causing Grillby to look up, and sighed, “What… do you know what happened to me back there?”

“…” Grillby’s eyes studied you for a long while before the man lowered his cup as well. “…Attack.”

“Excuse me?”

“…” Grillby still eyed you, but seemed to be hesitating. “…Past.”

“My past?” You quirked a brow up and the redhead nodded. “I don’t remember being in a fight with people narrating it.”

“…That's… your flash?”

You nodded but then snorted. “Seriously, it’s probably some stupid nightmare I had when I was a kid. Mom said I used to have those a lot when I was younger.”

Grillby didn’t answer that, but you got the feeling that he wasn’t convinced.

You weren’t either.

Something about that vision had rattled you to the bone. Not because it was of you fighting to your death. You were in worse situations. No… it was because you had felt as if it was something familiar. Known. You were scared, but you had the feeling of acceptance, as if you had known that it would happen sooner or later.

It was almost making you long for it.

You shook your head and sighed. That was a really messed up night. Too many revelations for one night. You just wanted to go home and crash. You’ll probably ditch school tomorrow…

Grillby led you to his car and you saw from the corner of your sight a flash of light and glanced up to see Frisk at the hall window facing the street from the second floor, her eyes settling on you.

You grinned wryly and gave a thumb up in a silent goodnight. Frisk took a moment but then nodded, making a small circle over her shoulder and tapping it once before slinking back into the house.

Grillby was looking with a new glint in his eyes at you when you reached the car.

You tilted your head and inquired over his strange reaction.

“…Code of… stay safe.”

Your cheeks and ears burned again.

Dammit, Frisk!

You were 'granted’ a sick leave from Grillby and so was restricted to your bed by your worried mother, able only to read and knit and eat whatever your mother had made. You felt stupid since you were feeling perfectly well, but the one time that you had tried to leave the house, you got dragged back in by the furious woman calling herself your mother.

You wanted to yell at her, but knew that you’ll be in a worse position if you’ll open your mouth. So wisely you kept your mouth shut and let yourself get put back in bed.

You wanted to scream.

You weren’t sick! You simply had one stupid panic attack! Grillby must have blown the whole ordeal out of proportions.

You were brooding, you knew that, but having no way to leave your room, you decided that it was the best course of line.

So you fixed a deep scowl onto your face and picked up the detective book that you had started earlier that day – 'In the Woods’, which was about kids missing with only one being found, but the catch was that the kid had amnesia.

You felt a bit uncomfortable with the amnesia part, especially the parts where the aged up protagonist had the small bits of memory. It reminded you too much of your vision and you didn’t like the jabs of panic in your chest.

But you couldn’t stop reading just because of a stupid feeling. Besides, you felt some part of you reaching for the book, aching to know more. You felt as if the protagonist was you in some way.

Well, that means that the book was doing its job, no?

You decided to ignore the strange feelings and set aside the book, unable to focus on the words, picking up the knitting needles and the half made sweater, hoping it would calm you down.

But you were still jittery, so soon even the knitting was out of the question.

That was bad. If even knitting was not helping, what are you going to do?

You stood up and went to your closet, opened the door and begun taking clothes out. You probably should organize your room… huh...

You reached to the top shelf and took down a box and went to your desk, sat down and placed the box on it. You opened it to find the sketches that Frisk used to draw for you at the beginning of your acquaintance next to the locket that you at one point begun keeping here.

You blinked and gathered the papers together with one hand and the locket with the other. So weird how you had forgotten about those two. The locket was so important to you and yet you had just put it here and didn’t even remember when you did.

Putting the papers down and standing up, you studied the heart shaped coin-sized locket, opening it to reveal the old picture of your family grinning at the camera.

You smiled as you fell onto the bed, keeping looking at the picture, recalling the day at the park.

An umbrella blocking the sun. Crickets buzzing in your ears. A small hand pulling you out of the shade towards a man with a big old-fashioned camera.

“Chara! I want a picture!”

Stumbling feet and a grumble. “We have plenty already.”

“I want more!”

A groan.

The man’s smile as he motioned for you to get closer. You hunched in suspicion, not liking to be near strangers that weren’t your family. A big broad hand on your shoulder. You looked up to see a bearded man smile kindly at you.

“Please?”

A sigh and a nod. “Okay…”

A flash.

“Thank you, Chara! Best friends forever!”

You rolled your eyes. Asriel had later found a stall that sold trinkets and got all goggly-eyed over the heart locket one. Mom had bought it and got the camera man to print the photo in midget-size to fit into the locket.

It’s so small…

“I got you something.”

Stench of pee. A dirtied hand pushing a rusty coin closer.

“We don’t need money.”

“Lucky charm.”

“How is this lucky!?” A clang of metal. Dull ache in hand.

The hand trembled and retreated.

“...Wait.”

Blue eyes looked up with hope.

Your eyes snapped open, loud heartbeats in your ears as you heaved and rolled to the side, holding your splitting open head and trying not to empty your stomach, the loud noise of the metal hitting the floor making you jump.

Another vision? And so close to the first one? What’s going on?

A knock on the door and the sound of creaking made you winch. “Chara… Oh, dear!”

“I’m fine, mom…” You groaned at the pain, pushing yourself up and clutching your head. Footsteps grew nearer and your head was held gently and pressed to your mother’s chest, a hand brushing your hair soothingly. It helped a bit and you sighed, leaning into the embrace.

“What are you seeing?” She asked after a moment when your brain felt less like slicing your head apart.

You gave a small shrug, withdrawing from her and rubbing your temples. “Just some dirty hand giving me a coin, saying it’s a lucky charm. It stunk and my hand ached.”

You mother was silent and you eyed her, noticing the dark look in her eyes. “What is it?”

She jolted and sighed, pulling her pale hair behind her ear. “It sounds terribly like the nightmares you used to have. But to affect you to this level… you want me to schedule another session with Dr. Mira?”

You scowled. “I’m fine. Probably the nightmares coming back. I’ll suffer through them a little bit and get it over with.”

She pressed her lips together in a sign of worry, obviously wanting to say something, but then gave a small nod. “In the meanwhile, sleep, alright? I’ll talk to Asriel about coming over. You have always slept better when he was around.”

You quirked a brow at that. “I’m not a baby.”

“Do this for me?” She looked at you worryingly.

You couldn’t argue with that so you nodded.

She beamed. “Great! Thank you, Chara. Everything will be just fine.”

…

You get a feeling that it won’t be that simple…

#undertale #papers of homelessness #charisk #asgoriel #flashback #panic attack #frisk (undertale)#grillby #undertale chara #toriel #asgore #asriel dreemurr #fanfic #fanfiction

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