Prelude
East Wing, Fairgrove Hospital, The Surface, 201X, (Universe 1-1172, Ending C-2)
He woke on his side in a comfy bed without a box spring; the mattress made out of some kind of fancy foam so they could avoid having any metal inside. A trade-off, to be sure, considering there was a lady further down the wing with an eating disorder who had taken a liking to it.
Qliphot stirred, rubbing at his eyelids, his thorny tendrils squirming uncomfortably in the weird sleeve-thing Mom had put on him after he came to the surface. He stood up, scratching one pawed foot with the other, his Magic-nullifying anklet jingling.
He would’ve cleaned up, because he knew the call for breakfast would be soon, but his room lacked a sink or even a mirror. It was a plain, small, empty room, with a white ceiling and slightly blue walls. At least they tried to make it a little homey with some clouds and rainbows painted on. The door had a little reinforced glass window on the top, and no knob on his side.
“This could drive a sane person crazy.” He joked to himself, in admittedly poor taste, then sighed, sitting down on the floor and idly flicking the door with his prosthetic hand, its skeletal metal frame lined with rubber and foam to make it ineffective as a weapon.
Not like it was good before; the alloy, while durable, didn’t afford much for striking, and he wasn’t much in the upper body department either…so he wasn’t completely sure why they bothered.
He heard the orderly opening doors, right on time. He didn’t get up; he went out a little after the other patients so they wouldn’t be distressed by him. Being the only Monster in a psychiatric ward full of Humans sure had its downsides.
Eventually everything went quiet again, and somebody tapped back on his door, and he stepped away so they could open it.
“Good morning, Qliphot.”
“Good morning, Miss Silva.” He replied tiredly, waiting for her to motion him out the door, “No needles today, I hope.”
“It isn’t on the itinerary.”
“Cool.”
“I have your usual spot set aside. Doctor Alphys should already be there.”
Meals usually only lasted about twenty minutes. Not quite enough time for horseplay or banter. But the visit was nice anyways.
“Okay.”
She led the way and he followed; as he understood it, his time here was slightly unusual. Only Doctor Silva and his mother treated him directly. He wasn’t allowed to use the Day Room unless it was empty, same with the walled garden outside. Still, having things to himself was nice. He was also the only patient that interacted with his doctor every day.
Studying her intently, she seemed fairly what he would have expected of a Human Doctor. Prim, proper, no nonsense. A bit cold, but masking it. She had long hair tied up neatly, and pressed, business-like clothing, probably keeping up appearances to contrast the nurses and orderlies, who wore blue scrubs or white uniforms, respectively. He was allowed to keep his regular clothing, like the other patients, but not put them away in his room. He usually changed in the shower into whatever Mom picked out for him. No belts, hoodie strings, or shoelaces were allowed, but he didn’t wear shoes and he had a few tighter pairs of pants so it was fine. He missed his hoodie, though; it was so fuzzy on the inside.
At the moment he was in a loose t-shirt and pajama bottoms, and felt a bit uncomfortable walking around casually like that.
“How are you feeling today?” she asked, glancing back to him a moment, and he cleared his throat.
“Fine, ma’am.”
“Any changes?”
He shrugged, “I mean, I haven’t seen anything weird lately.”
“Are you sure?”
Again, he shrugged, “I can always tell when something…isn’t right. Whenever I see a person that, um, isn’t there…they’re always monochrome.”
“Shades of grey. No color at all?”
“Right.”
“And you haven’t seen anyone that’s like that?”
“No. Not since uh…”
Not since a gooey Sans from another dimension flipped Mom’s car right off the Highway and tried to kill him. Not since they lopped his hand off. Not since he got a new crown and restored his body.
Not since…a lot of things he couldn’t really explain to anyone who hadn’t been there…
“Right. Well, that’s good. We’ll keep the current regimen going then.”
“Do we…have to? I hate the way these pills make me feel.”
She glanced over her shoulder again, as stern as Grandma, and he tensed, fur bristling, “R-right. Yup. Got it, ma’am!”
She was surprisingly cordial with him for a Human, but she was very strict. He knew enough from experience not to Act out.
Alphys was waiting in an otherwise empty break room, normally reserved for nurses. Her arrangement was unique, like his; she slept in a small back room set aside just for her, and was among the very few faculty that stayed on-site full time.
Still, it must be interesting living in the less modernized half of the building; Fairgrove used to be Fairgrove Keep, a castle-like fort, built centuries ago on a popular trade road to enforce taxes. It had been greatly renovated since then...but in some rooms you could still see the buttresses and arches where it wasn’t structurally safe to remove them.
She smiled as she noticed him, just as sleepy-eyed as he was, and waved him over.
“H-hey there sweetie. I got your breakfast ready.”
She’d tried to find the right pet name a few times now. Not terribly minding, he considered the medley of scrambled eggs and the diced bits of ham and potatoes. Unless he was mistaken, there were green bits that might have been chives. Nice.
“Thanks, Mom.”
He scarfed the food, wanting time to chat after. Despite the presentation, the meal was bland, probably scooped out en-masse of a huge buffet pan. He lamented the lack of pepper.
“I, uh, have your clothes picked out, and something to sleep in. Anything in particular you want for tomorrow?”
“Not really.”
“O-oh, okay. Um, we can head to the garden first today. I brought some games to play on the handheld. T-then maybe a movie later after lunch.”
“Sounds good.”
“Anything you wanna’ watch?”
“What’s that one with the killer notebook and the detective? I rather liked that.”
“O-oh, yes, we can watch that!”
Silva stepped in, “A…killer notebook?”
“R-right. Uh, maybe a…different one, sweetie?”
He kept at his food, thinking. Something not so violent…but he really liked that one. Oh well…
“What’s that slice-of-life one with the Devil working in fast food?”
“Right! That one should be fine. Haven’t seen it yet, but from the description…”
Silva didn’t intercept, so that was that.
“In the late afternoon we can have our consultation. Then dinner, and Alphys can accompany you to your room for the evening. Sound good?”
Every day was rigidly scheduled. Usually went something like this. At least there weren’t any drug trials or physical examinations today. His arm still burned a little from that intravenous fluid the last time they had tried anything new.
“Okay.”
“Good. I’ll see you later then.”
Silva left him with Mom, and he relaxed a little.
“I don’t think sweetie is the right one.”
He smirked, “No? Well, I’m sure you’ll find it eventually.”
She sighed, “Oh well. So…any changes?”
He usually answered the same lines of questioning twice, and accepted his lot. It was going to be a nice quiet day, at least…
He was in Mother’s “room” again. Ashara did not truly enter it; she was the room. The castle. The town. The realm. She simply made herself known, taking physical form.
Father turned to her, his expression shifting from surprise to delight, “My child…it’s nice to see you. Have you come to see your mother?”
She frowned, “Mom’s dead, dad. To what purpose would that have?”
He looked back, to Mother’s coffin, then frowned as well, “…I know that. It’s the thought that counts.”
He spoke to Mother as if she were alive. Ashara might have found that unnerving, if indeed she felt anything. Emotion was Chariel’s forte, not hers. She prided herself on being a creature of logic.
“Did you come to Check up on me, then?”
He wheezed, struggling for breath, but tried to hide it. Not well enough. Nor could he hide a hand reflexively clutching his side where it pained him.
“Yes. You have been in here for hours.”
“What is time to me? To any of us?”
True enough; eons had passed since the death of their Multiverse. With the sole exception of…the incident…involving the Deltarune invaders, things had been quite static. New arrivals, old departures. More and more of the same.
But it was wearing upon him. She could see it all the time. His body…his godly Soul…
All things within the Void, within her, slowly degraded over time. People, things, places…all returned to nothing, through her. As Mother had…
…So too would he, through her inaction. She could not tell him, but he was surely dying.
“You should rest, Dad.”
“Nonsense. I am a god.”
“…”
“You are unwell.”
He grimaced, conceded, his expression sagging, “A nap might be called for. Then, I should return to the gates.”
The clumsily named Voidkingdom; their little oasis in a sea of nothingness. It was often under siege, by lost scientists, insane aberrations, and conniving tricksters. Not to mention the Voidlings. She was more than capable of eliminating such pests, but had acquiesced to Father’s desire to guard Voidkingdom personally. It gave him purpose, and had helped him remain whole for this long.
He could remain a while longer…but then…
A sliver of emotion, of something like pain, raced through her.
How could she say goodbye to him? What would true loneliness feel like, with him gone?
“I know it has been some time since I have asked, but…”
Even she could feel uncertainty, and shifted uncomfortably, “Will you read to me again?”
“Of course, dear child. Of course…”
