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“Why are we going to the Castle, Father?”
“You’ll see. Now, hurry up; we don’t want to be late, now, do we?”
A young Papyrus walks alongside Dr. Gaster, looking around in awe at their surroundings. They’re on the way to the Capital, from the looks of it; what with the towering, overcrowded look of the buildings in the distance and the crowd bustling around him. He’s only been into the Capital once, but today is an exception—a very special day, in his father’s words. He still doesn’t know what to make of that, but hey, he’s happy just to be spending some extra time with Gaster.
People give them curious, intruding looks as they pass, wondering why on earth the Royal Scientist of all people is towing around his energetic, loud son to his workplace.
He tightens his hold on his father’s hand, shrinking into his oversized sweater as though it’d hide him from prodding eyes. Don’t make eye contact, he tells himself, though the urge to do so is maddening.
He stares at his shoes as they make their way down the road and into the Castle, all the while biting his tongue to keep himself from asking a thousand questions he knows Gaster won’t give him answers to.
“Now, Papyrus,” his father says, eyes distant as they walk, “I advise that when you find out this surprise that you keep yourself under control, understood? I would prefer that you don’t have an outburst in front of my employer—”
“I’m gonna meet the King?”
Gaster frowns and turns away, saying nothing more.
But, he’s done enough, because now Papyrus bounces with each step, his grin painful. I’m meeting the King, he thinks, I’m meeting King Asgore! This is such an honor…oh, but what do I say? He’s royalty, isn’t he? Ah, I wish I’d known, before—
They arrive at the throne room, and, standing in the middle of the room, is the King—but not just the King, and not at all in the way Papyrus expected.
There’s three children, sitting in the golden flowers. All are around his age, as far as he can tell. The first he recognizes to be the King’s son, wrestling with the human who’d fallen down a few months before. He only knows them as Chara, given how people are always talking about them. The third, sticking to herself and messing with bandages on her knees, is a red-headed fish girl he’s never met before, but immediately wants to talk to.
The odd thing about them, though, are the blue flowers—one, single flower for each—that juts out of their chests, poking through their clothes.
Papyrus stands in the doorway of the room, frozen.
Gaster, tugging on his son’s hand and finding him motionless, turns to him, frowning. “Papyrus,” he says, “what are you doing?”
Papyrus snaps to attention—and so do the other kids.
“Hey, look who finally arrived!” Chara gasps, standing up with a fixed grin on their face. The rush forward, stumbling, and Papyrus notices how they’re covered in cuts and bruises. When they reach him, they stick a hand out, winking. “Hi! I’m Chara—it’s nice to meet you, Papyrus!”
“You…know my name?” the skeleton asks, voice soft. His eyesockets are wide in surprise. “E-Er, I mean—it’s nice to meet you, too! I’m—well, you already know, apparently, but I am Papyrus!”
“Papyrus? You look more like a Goudy.” Asriel pipes up, brushing grass from his pants. He glances over to the silent girl, nodding his head in Papyrus’s direction. “Whaddya think, Undyne?”
Undyne stands, stretching as she eyes the skeleton shifting on heels. Then, while she moves to stand in front of him, she begins to study him, and says, “Yeah, I can see why you’d say that.”
Papyrus huffs, stomping his foot, “No I don’t! I used to have an uncle Goudy, and we looked nothing alike!”
“Actually,” his father starts, but at the glare his son gives him he stops, shrugging. “Are you ready for your surprise, son?”
“You mean new friends isn’t it?” Papyrus gasps, grinning.
The Royal Scientist chuckles, shaking his head, “No, Papyrus, it isn’t.” He directs his attention to Asgore, smiling softly. “Sir, if you would.”
“It’d be my pleasure, Dr. Gaster.” Asgore returns the smile, stepping around the flowers planted in the throne room and over to them. He kneels in front of the young skeleton and places a hand on his shoulder, meeting his gaze. “Papyrus,” he says, “how would you like it if I trained you to be a Royal Guard?”
Papyrus startles, blinking. He can’t speak.
“Of course, my children and Undyne will be trained alongside you, as they’ve requested,” the King goes on to say, shrugging, “so it is not like you’ll be alone. And it won’t be dangerous, or at least, not at first—just simple techniques to—”
“Yes!”
Papyrus launches himself at the King, wrapping his arms around him. His skull flushes red at the sound of laughter all around him, but he doesn’t care, burying his face in the King’s fur.
It isn’t until he hears the echoing of laughter that everyone stops, Papyrus pulling out of the hug to glance over at the three children huddled together.
The flowers on—no, in—their chests giggle in unison, the trio sharing a look before dropping their gazes, stepping away from the adults.
Papyrus watches them helplessly, unsure of what to do. They look so sad, he thinks, frowning. They shouldn’t be sad—this is a good day! I have to help them somehow…
“Papyrus,” his father speaks up, breaking the silence first, “why don’t you…play, with your training partners? You know, to get to know them.”
“Yes, Father.” He gives the doctor a smile before turning back to the shy trio, fumbling with his hands. Then, reaching out a hand, he says, “Let’s go somewhere else to play, okay?”
The others look at each other, before Undyne, surprisingly, grins a sharp-toothed smile and reaches forward, taking his hand in hers. Her grip is hard enough to almost snap his bones. “Alright,” she says, “but where to?”
Papyrus hums, thinking. Then, as the thought comes to him, he gasps, and tugs on his new friend’s hand. “I know! Follow me!”
He pulls her forward, Undyne yelping at the sudden motion but following close behind, Asriel and Chara running after them.
Asgore and Gaster watch after them, smiling. “Thank you for setting this up, Asgore,” Gaster says, clasping his hands in front of him. “It’s nice to see him with friends instead of moping because I’m not around much…”
“Anytime, Wingdings,” Asgore chuckles, clapping a hand on the doctor’s back, almost knocking him over with how forceful it is, “anytime.”
Four children rest in a hidden room in Waterfall, sitting near the water’s edge. The place has nothing but a lonely Echo Flower similar to those attached to three of the children’s chests, and a bench, rotting from exposure to constant rainfall. They converse amongst themselves, the skeleton being the loudest—and the most active—of the group.
“I’m really glad you guys don’t mind hanging out with me!” Papyrus proclaims, leaning forward to drag a finger along the water’s surface. “Most people ignore me or tell me to ‘fuck off,’ in one person’s words.”
Chara flinches at the word, but laughs anyway, “Hey, it’s fine! Don’t worry about it; you’re a really cool guy!”
Papyrus gasps. “I am?”
Undyne, who originally had been withdrawn, perks up, openly joining the conversation with a snicker. “Yeah!” she agrees, nodding. Then, leaning closer, she whispers, “In fact, I think we can all agree that you’re pretty great.”
“I am?”
“Yup,” the trio agrees.
“Wowie! Thank you!”
“No problem,” Undyne shrugs, snorting. “’Sides, anyone who doesn’t bug us about these ol’ things—” she messes with the flower on her chest, “—is a friend of ours!”
“Yeah,” Asriel adds, “Most people just pull on them and bombard us with questions. It’s exhausting!”
Papyrus pales a little, dropping his gaze. “Right…” Don’t ask them about the flowers, he reminds himself, don’t do it, Papyrus, don’t do it…don’t scare them away…
However, as he thinks this, the look on Asriel’s face changes, the boy’s fond look turning into a scowl. “Oh,” is all he says, getting the others’ attention.
“Oh? Oh, what?” Chara asks.
Papyrus looks back up, confused. “Is something wrong?” he asks.
Asriel shakes his head, looking away. “No, no,” he says, slowly, “nothing’s wrong…nothing, it’s just…”
“Reading minds again, Azz?” Undyne teases—and immediately regrets her choice of words.
Asriel and Chara gasp, looking at each other and then to her and Papyrus, frozen. Undyne, realizing what she’s said, yelps and covers her mouth, stepping away—and Papyrus, watching all of this, let’s out a scream when Undyne vanishes from sight.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she starts apologizing, the words coming out quiet and rushed. “I didn’t mean to, I just—I just—”
“Nice going, guys,” Chara groans, “we just met him, and already you’ve blown it! Seriously, is it that hard to—”
“You can turn invisible?”
Undyne reappears, eyes wide. Her blue skin looks paler than before. “Um—”
“That’s so cool! I wanna turn invisible!” and then he turns to Asriel. “And you, you can read my mind? How do you do that? Why—”
Papyrus exclaims, eyes widening when the other two children run over and cover his mouth. He’d been shouting; not on purpose, but when they pull away, their expressions are enough to calm him. They look sad again, weighed down by a thousand fears and insecurities.
Papyrus’s smile fades. “Oh…um…I’m sorry, I…that was rude, wasn’t it…?” he asks, fumbling with his hands again. I messed up, he thinks. I messed up and now they’ll hate me—
“You’re fine, Papyrus,” Asriel sighs. “We don’t hate you, promise.”
“Whoa.”
“Azz!” Chara groans. “Don’t make it worse!”
“Well, we’re already busted anyway, so why bother hiding it now?” Asriel throws his arms in the air, glaring at his sibling, who returns his look tenfold. Shrinking away from them, he steps forward, sighing. “Yes, we can…do things other people can’t. But you can’t tell anyone, okay?”
“It’s a secret,” Undyne mumbles, fidgeting with the flower on her chest. It glows, repeating her words, “It’s a secret...”
“O-Okay,” the skeleton says, nodding. “A secret. I can understand that. But—”
“Ah, ah.” Chara wags a finger in his face, eyebrows drawn together. “No buts. That’s it—end of story.”
“…But—” Papyrus whines, trying to find the words, before starting again, “But, but—why didn’t you say something sooner? I don’t mind that you have superpowers! Superpowers are cool!”
“They’re not superpowers,” Chara snaps. “They’re a curse.”
The others nod, all in agreement.
Except Papyrus, who stomps his foot, “No they’re not! I think it’s great that you can do stuff like that—the best heroes always had weird but nifty stuff they could do!”
“Yeah, and it got them in trouble all the time,” Asriel reminds, sighing. “Look, just—can we stop talking about it? You weren’t supposed to find out, but now you know, so—that’s that.”
“…Alright,” Papyrus says, crossing his arms over his chest. He returns to the edge of the water again, staring into its depths. “…But I still think they’re not that bad.”
“Easy for you to say,” Undyne snorts, sitting next to him. She picks up a rock and throws it, the rock skipping a few times before sinking. “You don’t have to deal with them.”
“…Maybe not.”
The skeleton grins suddenly.
“But that doesn’t mean I can’t help you deal with them!”
Months pass. Months of training, of spending time together at Papyrus’s “hiding place,” of bonding over awful jokes and games. Papyrus even makes puzzles for them all to do, though Asriel isn’t as interested in them as Chara and Undyne are. Everything is perfect.
And then, while walking alone in the dump, Papyrus finds something extraordinary.
The trio rest in the throne room, Asgore attending to his kingly duties and Dr. Gaster having gone off to his lab hours ago. They’re bored, but talking amongst themselves in Papyrus’s absence is enough to keep them occupied. Even if, with Papyrus being gone, there’s a void left in his place.
They try not to dwell on the feeling.
“Guys! Guys, look!”
They turn to greet their friend at the doorway, curious as to why on earth he’s shouting—and they’re stunned to silence at what’s wrapped around his neck.
A vibrant red scarf, billowing behind him as he runs, with a single Echo flower stitched into the fabric.
When he reaches them, he grins wide, rocking on his heels. “I found it in the dump!” he says. Then, flexing, trying his best to pose dramatically, he asks, “do you like it? Just like yours, right?”
The three flower children are mute, in awe at their friend’s new attire. None of them can fully wrap their minds around what they’re seeing, and yet, they can see it perfectly—their friend’s vain attempt to try and make them feel like they fit in somewhere, or that he fits in with them, whichever works.
Undyne is the first to break the silence, rushing over and tackling the skeleton with a hug. They fall into the flowers, Papyrus grunting, but both are laughing. Always laughing. “Dude, you look so cool!” she says. “Like those heroes you’re always talking about!”
“Really?” Papyrus asks, flushing red. “You really think so?”
“Yeah!” Asriel says, then. “Just like a superhero!”
“It’s almost like a cape,” Chara observes, grinning. “Of course, the Great Papyrus deserves more than just a measly cape, don’t you guys agree?”
The others nod in agreement, though Papyrus is still processing their statement.
He gasps. “The Great Papyrus?” he repeats, eyes sparkling.
“Well, a superhero needs a name, don’t they?” Chara shrugs. “It’s the first thing that came to mind.”
Papyrus grins, then gasps, pushing Undyne off him and struggling to his feet. “Well, if I’m a superhero,” he says, “then so are you guys! We should make a club—what do you think?”
The trio share a look, thinking it over. “A club?” Asriel repeats.
“What kind of ‘club’?” Undyne asks.
“Just a club for us four, and whoever else who has one of those awesome Echo-flower-thingies.” Papyrus prods Asriel’s chest, earning a chuckle. “We should call it…um…well—”
“The Flower Club!” Asriel suggests.
“Asriel, bro, that’s dumb,” Chara says.
“What? No, it’s not! It’s fitting!”
Undyne grins, “Like how the King named the Capital ‘the Capital’ and the Ruins ‘the Ruins,’ right?”
“Sh-shut up!” Asriel crosses his arms over his chest, huffing. “Fine, if you don’t like it, then think up your own! It was just a suggestion, anyway.”
“I say Papyrus thinks of one,” Undyne says, leaning on the skeleton as she talks. “After all, it’s his idea.”
“M-Me?” Papyrus sputters, flushing red. But that’s so much responsibility… “I-I dunno, are you sure?”
“How could we not be sure, Papyrus?” Chara huffs, rolling their eyes. “I mean, I know I’m not all that great with name stuff, and Mr. Flower Boy here isn’t any better.”
“And I hate making stuff up,” Undyne says. “I’d rather train with Asgore than make up a name for something.”
Papyrus shudders, pausing. He hums, tapping his thumbs together, thinking it over. “How about…” he stops, then snaps his fingers. “How about the Echo Club?”
“Echo club?” Chara repeats, wrinkling their nose. “That sounds dumb—”
“That sounds dumb,” their flower whispers, not missing a beat. They fall silent.
“Echo club it is!” Undyne wraps an arm around Papyrus’s shoulder. “Our commander-in-chief calls us that, so I guess that’s what we are!”
“C-Commander-in-chief…?”
“Well, yeah! You’re gonna be our leader, aren’t ya, bro?” Undyne asks, frowning.
“I know I’m not gonna lead…” Asriel mutters, Chara nodding along with him.
Papyrus flushes red. She called me “bro!” She sees me as a brother! I have siblings! “Y-Yes!” He says, and then, louder, “I-I’ll be the leader! Why wouldn’t I be?”
The others cheer, dogpiling him. They all celebrate their newfound “membership” by playing a couple games of tag and play-fighting, all the while unaware of what their actions will bring.
He’s almost an adult, just a few months shy of his eighteenth birthday, when his world is turned upside down.
He’s at his friend’s house—Alphys—spending some time away from the castle. Not that he doesn’t want to be there, but being there on a daily basis can be exhausting, even for someone as energetic as him.
He’s sitting in the living room with Alphys and Sans, a skeleton from Snowdin who he’s known for years now.
“Sans, come on, stop it,” Papyrus laughs as he pushes Sans away, the other still trying (and failing) to cling to his side.
“Aw, c’mon,” Sans whines, “you know I’ve got a knack for climbin’ stuff.”
“Sans, you’re literally wearing slippers! You’re the laziest person I know—you don’t climb, you sleep.” Papyrus huffs, letting the other skeleton go.
Sans, in turn, stuffed his hands into his hoodie pocket, his lazy smile genuine—which is a rarity for him. “Well, you know what they say—”
“Do not tell a pun. Do. Not.”
Sans stops, falling silent. But not for long. “Ice sure can be slipper-y.”
“You’re not my friend anymore.”
“What, hey, no! You can’t disown me over a pun—”
“C-Can you two st-stop?” Alphys interrupts, glancing up from her phone. With her headphones, neither had expected her to be paying attention, let alone listening to them. “I’m t-trying to get stuff done for D-D-Dr. G-Gaster…”
“Sorry,” the skeletons apologize, the three falling silent.
Papyrus looks around the lizard’s house (lab? He’s not sure) in the midst of the quiet, smiling to himself. I wonder what the Club’s up to, he thinks, humming. I hope they’re doing okay…and that they understand why I’m not with them right now…maybe I should have called—
Ring, ring!
His phone vibrates in his pocket, and he pulls it out and answers on the second ring, as is the usual for him.
“Hello?” he says, his voice cheery.
However, whatever happiness he feels drains from him the moment he hears sobbing on the other end. Sobbing he’s heard before and fully recognizes.
“Dad?” Papyrus jumps up, expression serious. Sans and Alphys, still sitting, exchange a glance, confused. “Dad, what’s wrong?”
“…I…It’s…”
“It’s your mother.”
Her death came so suddenly that neither of them had expected it. She’d “fallen down,” as his father put it—a condition many monsters were developing at an alarming rate. It’s terminal, and most dust within a few days.
His mother dusted within a few hours.
Papyrus holds the jar containing his mother’s remains in his hands, looking down at it with blank, uncomprehending eyes. Tears run down his face, though they’re silent, unnoticed.
Forgettable.
He hugs the jar close and presses his body against the couch, eyes boring into the ceramic.
Why, he wonders. Why did you have to go?
His question is met with silence.
He sighs, sniffs, wipes his tears away. “Stop,” he mumbles, though for what reason, he can’t figure out. He sets his mother’s dust on the coffee table and stands, still muttering under his breath, “Just stop…”
He walks into the hall, planning on going to bed, when he notices something…weird.
His father’s office door is wide open.
Gaster moves strangely throughout the castle, slinking rather than his previous strides, once full of pride and grace. Now he shambles rather than walks, ashen-faced and cold. Yet, disturbingly, he never stops smiling.
He reaches his lab and calls for Alphys.
“Yes, sir?” she appears a moment later in his office’s doorway, poking her head in. “You asked for me?”
Gaster’s eyelights are gone. Standing, his smile widens, and he gestures to the door. “Close the door, please.”
Alphys gives him a questioning look but does so, stepping forward. Her attitude turns hesitant the moment she sees his chest, proudly displaying a glowing Echo flower right in the center. A new development for him, as she’s never seen it before.
“What is it, Doctor?” she asks.
He hums, holding something up.
A phone.
“What would you say,” he says, “if I told you I’ve found a way to place someone’s consciousness into, say…a digital platform?”
Alphys frowns, heartbeat quickening at his words, “W-Well, h-have you?”
“As a matter of fact, I have.”
His grin becomes menacing, and Alphys yelps as her soul drops to the floor. She plummets, struggling. But, as Gaster works with blue magic, she knows it’s useless. She can’t move.
“Now, hold still, won’t you?”
Alphys can’t even scream as he summons an attack and blasts her into nothing.
Clutching a glitching phone in his hand, Gaster makes his way to the throne room, humming to himself. He has an odd spring to his step, and everyone finds it odd for someone like him that’s just lost a loved one, but that’s fine. Let them think what they will—not like it matters to him any.
Standing at the throne’s threshold, he waltzes inside, finding the King kneeling in the flowers. Perfect for him—such a vulnerable position will come in handy.
“My liege,” Gaster bows, stuffing the phone in his pocket. He steps forward, stopping just short of the flower bed.
“Ah, Dr. Gaster!” Asgore straightens, turning to him with a smile. Then, it flickers into a frown, the King reaching forward. “My God, Wingdings, are you alright? You look frail…how are you holding up after—?”
“Fine.” Gaster smiles, though Asgore sees the hint of pure rage in his eyes at the mention of his loss. “I’m fine. In fact, I am here because of my perfect state of mind. Now, may I move on to business?”
“…I suppose.” Asgore shifts, waiting. “What business do you wish to discuss?”
“The barrier.”
Asgore’s eyes widen. “Have you found a way to break it?” he asks.
Gaster’s smile bothers the goat monster, though for what reason, he can’t quite place until he can’t move. Too late to escape now. “Actually,” he says, “I have.”
Asgore is left dying with the buttercups, the doctor more interested in finding two specific little siblings.
He never witnesses as the King is swallowed up by a gaping void, the same that swallowed Alphys earlier that day.
All of this occurs within minutes. All of this, playing out while Papyrus stares in horror at the documents before him, revealing portraits of the assistant Royal Scientist and the King. He clamps his hands over his mouth to keep from screaming. Oh my God, he thinks, Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God—what do I do? What can I do?
Pulling his scarf tighter around him, he sobs, hands balled up into fists as he grips his skull.
Please, make this stop…just make it stop, please…
His eyes are wide as he stares at the floor, tears flowing freely down his face. He’s not sure what to do; how can he fix this? He might be great, but can he really save them? What would do it?
And then, something slithers into his brain, and attaches itself to his mind, breeding an awful, sickening thought.
…I know what to do.
Snowdin is, for the most part, isolated. Not many people are out and about, as locals around this time are asleep or working nighttime. Nobody, he knows, will be coming to the river on the edge of town.
So, this is where he goes, his footfalls heavy with every step. His breathing is ragged, eyes itchy and irritated. His red scarf flaps behind him, the wind whipping it around ruthlessly.
His chest burns, and yet, he keeps going. He has to keep going, no matter what. For their sakes.
He stops just at the riverbed, looking down into its depths. His bones rattle slightly at the sight of the current, the sound of rushing water crashing in his ears, the crushing weight of knowing that all it’ll take is for him to fall into it for him to…to…
“Okay,” he breathes, inching closer. He leans, whimpering, almost tipping over, “Okay, I can do this, I can do this…”
Just as he feels himself begin to fall, he hears a voice cry out behind him, “Papyrus, no!”
He jumps back, turning around.
Chara stands there, tears in their eyes, hands gripping their shirt. They step forward, the flower on their chest glowing. “What are you thinking?” they shout, sniffling. “You can’t…you can’t do this! Think about those you’re leaving behind—do you really want to hurt us like that? Especially right after your mom died?”
Papyrus winces, though he smiles, chuckling despite his own tears. Crybaby. “I have to do this,” he says. “It’s…it’s the only way. It’s the only way I can help anymore—”
“No, it’s not! It’s not the only way—Papyrus, please, listen to yourself! You’re the one that was always saying how we had more to live for, how we were so great. You! You, telling us not to give up! You can’t give up now—”
“I’m not giving up now.” Papyrus shakes his head, heel inching towards the river. “I’ve never given up! I’m just—I can’t find any other solutions! Everyone…everyone’s hurting, so—so maybe, if I do this, then everything will be okay again!”
“This will be the opposite of okay, Papyrus!”
“You’re only saying that because you don’t want to lose me!”
Chara falls silent, taking a step away.
Papyrus’s shoulders sink, the skeleton turning towards the river again. He reaches out, and he sees it—the rip in time and space. It’s nothing but a chaotic, black void, but he can see it now, so close to the edge. It whips air all around him, screeching and churning, a force to be reckoned with.
The sight of it strengthens his resolve.
“Is…is this what it looked like for you?” He asks them, sniffling. “No wonder you said it was scary…I’m—I’m pretty scared just looking at it.”
“Then don’t do this!”
“I…”
Papyrus sighs.
“I have to.”
And he falls into the river, the void swallowing him up.
“Papyrus!”
Chara collapses in the snow, arm reaching out but never reaching far enough. They sob openly now, loudly, their wails heard throughout all of Snowdin.
Crunch, crunch…
They turn around, eyes wide and face shining with their tears, meeting the blank, empty gaze of Sans, who stands just close enough to see them and the churning waves of the river. He clutches his chest, his eyelights gone as he stares at them, as if accusing them, before disappearing.
Chara blinks, left alone, and, as their thoughts and guilt consume them, they laugh. Not out of happiness or joy, no—but of debilitating despair.