The end is never the end.

Alarm bells ring in your head. It’s never good when someone wants souls. you feel panic starting to creep up on you, and viel trying to claw up your throat, but you push them down. You didn’t know what face you where making, your face didn’t emote well, but you were sure it was pinched up in pain. “….why. Do you. Need that?” you grit out. You supposed you sound mad, but the trembling in your jaw was sure not to go unnoticed. Your hand gripped the knife you had yet to set down.

You try to reason with yourself. Maybe this chara came from a timeline where the barrier was still closed. Maybe they just had a morbid sense of humor. That sounded like a joke, right? But your hand was still clench around the knife, and you continued to shake.

Wow, they sure fucked that up. Frisk’s whole body sings of tension, and Chara bristles, folding their arms and drawing themself up. “Not asking for yours,” they snap. “Unless you felt like handing it over. I think you have had enough of people trying to rip it out of you by now!

Frisk makes a little almost-squeak of surprise. That’s weird, but…kind of cool at the same time. “Yeah! Look like the one I know. Knew, I guess.”

They take another step closer. “Dunno, looked okay from what I saw.” But that’s not entirely relevant.

”…Why’re you here?” They punctuate the query by flinging their empty arm out at everything around them.

“Why, sightseeing, of course.” They giggle again. “All I am missing is a Hawaiian shirt and a pair of sunglasses and I will look the perfect tourist.”

“Chara?”

The heck. They’re very not in a Frisk, or in their head. Unless they’ve managed to project themselves–

Oh. ‘Different timeline’ catches their ears a little late. (Good thing they never got to finish that horrible route, huh?)

“You don’t look like you do in the picture,” Frisk tells them frankly.

They laugh. “Had a makeover,” they remark dryly, red silhouette shifting, changing colour...

“This more convincing?” Their hair is actually complying to gravity now. “I always look terrible in photos, anyway.”

Frisk…is just starting to look worried, actually. They don’t do hysterical laughter on their own very much, but they’re not unfamiliar with the concept.

They take a few steps toward the stranger, tapping a little rhythm on the handle of the burnt pan they’re holding.

“Um. I’m okay. Alphys–she’s done with that stuff anyway, I think.” Wait. “How’d you know?”

Watching Mettaton’s stuff, or…something else?

They hesitate, tensing a little when Frisk approaches. How much is it worth telling? Well, they’ll test the waters...

“Why, it’s me. Chara. I am not of this timeline, but I know you. And I know this place.”

Huh. Reminds them of Toriel, except not really. Not much.

(Please do not jump off the bridge. Frisk doesn’t know if they can RESET a full-on unmaking, though they’d try if they could remember.)

“What?” they repeat, a little less sharp, a lot more quiet. Um. Well, with Toriel on their mind…

“…S-salu-tations?” they try back, tripping over the word. They’ve only heard it before, after all, never tried to pronounce it. And– ”Forward?” They guess? There’s not really anywhere else for them to go right now, though they are kind of tempted to go back to Waterfall and grab some Sea Tea.

Oh their god, a Frisk with an actual vocabulary. This definitely isn’t Alpha’s Frisk. They giggle a little at that (and with sheer anxiety). “Right. Er. Do you... need any help?”

“I mean,” they add quickly, hating themself just a little more for every word that leaves their stupid mouth, “I understand you have a lizard looking out for you, but she is not exactly the most reliable, so.”

It was a JOKE.

I don’t actually expect anyone to have them.

Frisk was moving at a steady clip, but then they hear that and stop dead because WHOA whoa whoa that was their name. Nobody down here knows their name (except maybe Sans, and only sometimes? It’s weird but so is he and so are they).

So.

They turn around and stare at the…person. Ghost? No, not a ghost, those are kind of blobby. And…not a human ghost, ‘cause those’re just SOULS, right?

“What?” they ask, flustered and maybe kind of rudely.

“Er,” they say, in a breathtaking display of their extensive vocabulary. Quick, they have to think of something to say. Something cool and impressive, that will leave this Frisk immediately in awe of them.

“Here we go again,” Chara mutters to themself as they slip between the green threads of this timeline. They materialise on the wooden bridge between the MTT Hotel and the CORE, hugging themself. It’s always nervewracking, entering timelines of any sort.

They’ll just head to the Barrier, they guess, maybe try to figure out where those stupid souls are... or maybe just mope around there for a while. They’re good at moping.

Except.

The light of the CORE up ahead frames a familiar silhouette. Not quite the same as the one they know, but it’s walking away. They shouldn’t call out. They should definitely not call out.

“Frisk...?”

You debated being honest, maybe freak this chara out, but that would be mean. You never wanted to hurt anyone, yet it seems that even now that’s all you’re doing. You really were the worst. You shifted on your feet, pulling your sweater sleeves down from habitat, but also hiding the scars, and fidgeting. “I’m.. really sorry..” the drowning voice you have echos off of the walls slightly. Stiffly, you walked over to the wall and took out the knife implanted there, sighing. “What.. do you need?” You winced at your lack of tack and bluntness, but before you could dwell a thought crossed you. It was probably nothing, your chara went out alone too but… You were always taught to trust your instincts. “…Where’s your frisk?”

They bark a laugh. The sleeve-tugging doesn’t go unnoticed. But who are they to judge? They’re not one to pry, lest they get pried right back at.

“Good question. Who cares.

You gasped. Before you was a shadowy being. You had just thrown a knife at someone. Normally you weren’t this reactive, but the timing of their appearance was when your guard was down, a unfamiliar presence in your own home, and your mind jumped to the worse what ifs, body reacting on instinct and with out your input. After a brief second of relief that it wasn’t them, you panicked for a different reason. “A-ah..s-sorry…” your voice stuttered, a mixture between stoic and anxious. You where guarded, you didn’t know who or what this being was. You were grateful you weren’t outside, who knows what would happen if people saw you talking to some spooky… ghost? Demon? Now that you look closer, they kinda looked like chara, They looked completely different than your own, from nose shape to hair style, though admittedly their hair was similar. You were familiar with the concept of the multiverse, and was extra glad that they were in your room and not out in public. If the government somehow found out.. you realize you’d been intently staring at them, and glanced away quickly. “.. are you a chara?” Your monotoned Voice asked, devoid of curiosity nor accusation. “Sorry.. for the knife, I mean. It was.. well, instinct.”

“It’s fine,” they grumble. “Really. Love having random, sharp projectiles thrown at me for no reason. Thank you.

“Yes, I am Chara. And I assume you must be Frisk… although very different to mine.” So how many people have you killed, they nearly add, only to shut their red blob of a mouth instead. Do they really want to know…?

Haha. Whatever.

Better me than you.