• • •

     Wind whipped past Toriel's white Buggy. She had light music on, but kept the volume low.
     Every once in a while Toriel would peer through the rear-view mirror, concern evident in her eyes. She'd often say warm-hearted things like: "I'm really glad to see you, Chara," and by now she was aware that Chara had no intention to respond. She couldn't, her mind was blaring. She could still hear Frisk's screams.

"You're a sick, heartless freak!"

     Chara squeezed her eyes shut, wanting desperately to filter her thoughts.

"For years, I was stuck enduring the pain you caused."

     No, no— something else, she needs to think of something else. Chara pressed her eyelids down further, her nails violently sinking into the nylon seats.

"You didn't care did you? You just floated around in mind, using me."

     No good, her eyes opened and darted around Toriel's car for a distraction. CDs, magazines, breadcrumbs—

"I'm not just some vessel for you to leech off of! MY LIFE IS NOT A GAME!"

     A fist came down at that, punching Chara in the jaw, knocking the wind out of her. She doesn't remember much afterwards, just distant shouts and the feeling of cold metal against her skin.

     She shook her head, trying to pry away from the memory. The car had conveniently stopped at a red light, she was able to look out the window and see clearly.
     It's Autumn, Chara remembers enjoying this season. The world is always beautiful at this time, nature's creative streak. Leaves on trees were an array of gorgeous hues: red, gold, orange, maybe all three at once in a mesmerizing gradient. It was always brisk out, a bit chilly, but never too much. Chara watched the breeze force weak bits of amber from the branches, whisking them away to an unknown destination. Soon they'll be all alone, everything they remember stripped from them.

No— focus, Chara. It's Autumn, you love autumn. Don't ruin it. Don't ruin it like you ruined everything else.

     It was then that Chara noticed her faded reflection in the window. Her right cheek adorned an apparent red welt.

"You're sick, you're sick and I hate you."

     Frisk's voice was like ice, hushed but thick with venom. Her golden eyes were strewn with hostility and resent, and Chara was afraid she'd hit her again.
     "I'm sure she didn't mean it." Toriel said quickly and Chara was pulled from her trance, realizing that her fingers were gently stroking the mark.
You're wrong, she thought.

     She'd felt everything in that hit. The force conveyed so much pain, as well as inflicting it, and the aching just wouldn't go away. She could still feel the imprint of her hand, tingling against her skin.

"Now I'm free from you, and I never have to hear your voice again."

Frisk meant it, Chara knew she did.

- - -

     Toriel pulled into the driveway of a decent sized brick house. In the front was a small garden of golden flowers, the patch encased by small bushes and stepping stones.
     "I moved in with Asgore a few months ago," Chara heard Toriel say as she cut off the engine. "Frisk lives here by herself now, but Sans pays her plenty of visits."
     Frisk made herself suffer through the turmoil alone, Chara remembers that. She'd sit in silence sometimes, lifeless. It was unbearable, so Chara would speak. Frisk never usually paid her any mind, not until she hit a nerve.

     Chara acknowledged the similarities to Toriel's old home. Frisk's property is cozy, full of warm colors, potted golden flowers, and photographed memories. There's even the distinct smell of firewood and baked goods lingering in the air.
She barely made it through the door before a pair of strong arms wrapped around her.
"Chara! It's so great to see you again," Asgore's unmistakeable voice was loud in her ears, fluffy blonde hair shielding her eyesight. Her arms hung lazily at her sides, there was no buzz, no feeling, and no obligation to return the affection.
     She'd been hugged before, a long while back. Asgore would give the best embraces, and though it didn't seem like she enjoyed them at the time, she did.
Where was that sensation now? It feels so close yet so far, just out of reach, dangling. Why can't she just grasp it?

Why is nothing there?

- - -

     Chara followed closely behind Toriel, glancing around the hallway.
     "Here it is." Chara could hear the smile shape her voice. It was distant, her mind momentarily elsewhere.
     "Anyways," Toriel promptly said, turning to Chara. "You're welcome to stay and talk with us! There's—"
     "I'm fine." Chara pushed past her to enter the room. She could hear Toriel sigh sadly as she shut the door behind her.

• • •

     Chara doesn't remember how long she stayed cooped up in there, head in her knees. She was now beyond familiar with the feeling of water streaming down her skin. It tickles.

     The one thing she can just barely remember is Determination. The feeling was warm at her fingertips before she was ripped apart, before the comfort Frisk's SOUL was taken from her.
     It would come as a rush, her own little personal high. Killing granted it, so she grew to not care who she hurt, she didn't care who suffered, she needed it; she couldn't live without it.

     It's slowly fading now, the burn on her cheek. She didn't know if she wanted to hold onto it, to keep feeling something, or if she wanted nothing more than to be done with it, for Frisk's pain to stop being the center of attention in her head.
Chara wanted to stop realizing that she was everything everyone thought she was, that she brought nothing but torment and all Frisk wanted was to get rid of her, for Chara to just disappear so she could be at peace.

Maybe that would be for the best.

- - -

     The familiar sound of porcelain gliding against wood caused her to look up.
     It happens three to four times a day, breakfast, lunch, dinner, and sometimes dessert. Food like chicken parmesan, spaghetti (which she knows not to eat), and butterscotch cinnamon pie would slide into her room. She doesn't eat much, but she eats.
     Every few times she'll hear Toriel's voice.
     "Please come out Chara, we're worried."
Only you are, she'd think but wouldn't reply. Chara hadn't used her voice in days, and it's safe to guess that if she didn't push the food back under the door when she was finished, they'd assume she was dead.

     She can hear them talk about her sometimes. Frisk never says much and Toriel always sounds anxious. Of course Sans is there to add how little he cares about Chara's well being, but she's learning to block him out.
     Chara always waits for Frisk to speak, for her to say that Chara's forgiven, but she never does. Maybe that's why it was so surprising to hear Frisk's voice outside her door one day.

- - -

     She'd nearly forgot what her voice sounded like when it wasn't strained. Frisk's voice was always small, shaky sometimes. Usually there'd just be quiet sobs, or utter silence. In those cases, Chara would simply entertain herself.
     But God, her methods were terrible. She tortured Frisk, she knew it, but couldn't tell herself that what she was doing was wrong.

     The day they were separated.. Chara had never seen Frisk so belligerent. When Chara would chastise her, Frisk would more or less remain silent, infrequently pleading for her to go away, to leave her alone. Chara wouldn't, not only because she couldn't, but because she enjoyed hurting her.
     It's no wonder the first thing Frisk does is convey her feelings physically, to show Chara exactly how she'd made her feel. Then, she left her alone with her thoughts, to suffer as they coiled around her brain, just as she'd done to her. The only difference, however, is that Chara was what haunted Frisk's thoughts.
     "Chara?" Frisk called out again. Chara was quiet, unmoving. There was a sigh and audible shuffling.
     "I want you to come out," her voice now with a demanding edge. Unease settled into Chara's stomach.
     "Look I—" there was mumbling for a moment, it was hushed, harsh, a silent argument. Chara didn't listen in this time, not if the toxicity was about her.
     "I brought you some chocolate." Chara perked up at that. She'd been craving something sweet besides memory-inducing pie. Chocolate had always been her favorite sweet, a smooth delicacy, a pain reliever.
     She nearly fell upon standing up. She'd done no more than shifted since the day she arrived. The most movement Chara had received was raising a fork to her mouth or going to the bathroom, which was such a hassle. She'd have to wait until she was positive everyone was gone or occupied. Chara didn't even want to hear herself think, so creeping about the halls unnoticed was easy.
     She hesitantly reached for the doorknob, pressing into the brass as a last ditch effort to hopefully pass through, to not exist.

- - -

     Frisk looked much rosier, less drained. There's life in her eyes that Chara only remembered seeing back when Frisk first fell. Chara felt herself wince. She'd caused that light to burn out, for that joy to fade.
     Frisk looked indifferently at her. Her stare lingered on Chara's face, apologetic, grateful.
     "Here," Frisk handed her the bar and Chara accepted it slowly, wary of Frisk's hands. Something flashed in those lustrous eyes, but Chara couldn't read it, she couldn't tell what anything was anymore.
     Chara wondered if it was okay to open and eat it now, or if she should wait. She wasn't entirely sure what it was she should wait for, but..
     "Hey, maybe don't linger in a secluded hallway with this one, yeah?" Sans was leaning on the wall at the end of the corridor, hands in pockets, relaxed posture, and a scrutiny so invading and sharp Chara felt a familiar twinge of.. something, and tore open the chocolate bar.

     The three of them walked into the living room and immediately all eyes were on her. Asgore smiled invitingly, Toriel did no attempt to hide her stress, and Sans' brother, Papyrus, (who'd been over a few times, Chara could never forget that voice) grinned. Every stare left her stomach to churn, and the heart that never ceased to encumber her decided to pick up the pace.
     Frisk and Sans walked by her to sit on the first couch, leaving only the spot beside Papyrus. She reluctantly headed over and sat down, scooting to the edge and resting her elbow against the sofa's arm.
     Her other hand doodled about where her heart should be. It had calmed down, but she wanted to know what she'd felt in the first place. Why her face grew hot, why the thought of running back to her room seemed to temporarily override her judgement.
     Chara shook her head and closed her eyes, hardly listening to everyone's chatter.
     Unfortunately, that didn't last very long.
     Something poked into her side and Chara let the world back in, regrettably. Papyrus was far closer than before, much closer.
     "NICE TO FINALLY MEET YOU! I, AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS!" Chara had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. Obnoxious.
     "I know."
     "WOWIE! I MUST BE FAMOUS ON THE SURFACE ALREADY!" Chara scoffed. Annoying.
     "Y'KNOW, WHEN I FIRST MET FRISK, I HAD NO IDEA YOU WERE IN THERE! BUT THAT'S OKAY, NOW I HAVE ANOTHER FRIEND!"
     Another friend? Frisk would leave out the minor detail that having Chara prancing about in her head were the worst couple years of her life. She wasn't a friend, or anyone capable of amicable relations. She was a parasite.
     "Leave me alone," she mumbled, but it was as if he didn't hear her. Chara blamed it on his lack of ears.
     "SHE TELLS ME ABOUT YOU SOMETIMES! YOU SOUNDED LIKE A VERY... INTERESTING PERSON!" She cursed Papyrus for his transparent hesitancy.
     Chara glanced over at Frisk, who was talking to Sans. Those unpleasant feelings began bubbling back up. She looked away from them.
You really are aren't you? A parasite, a leech, a—
     "THERE'S SO MUCH TO SEE ON THE SURFACE! WE SHOULD—"
     "What part of 'leave me alone' do you not seem to understand?" Chara snapped, glaring into Papyrus' minuscule, white eyes.
     He went quiet, in fact, everyone did. Sans' expression seemed to darken automatically, and Frisk simply frowned, as if this was normal. Chara doesn't look to Toriel and Asgore, not wanting to see their face. The silence made her feel strangely vulnerable. Chara turned her back to everyone, pretending to examine the wall.
     "Hey, let's watch some TV! Sans can you.." The remote was then enveloped in a blue light, and with a flick of his finger, it was tossed to Frisk. She muttered a quick 'thank you' and cut the television on, Mettaton's dramatic poses and subtitles for his robotic voice appearing on the screen.
     Chara stifled a groan as Papyrus cheered. She'd always hated Mettaton, there was never anything to like in the first place. Always so flamboyant and egotistical. She'd often wonder how anyone ever found entertainment in his work, but never openly expressed her disgust.
     Talking wouldn't do much anyways, she didn't want to speak anymore. She just wanted to fade away, so she's quiet, drowning out the upbeat music and the audience's screams.

- - -

     Chara didn't know how long she'd been partially out of commission. She almost reached a state of much needed peace, then there was a knock at the door.
     "Hey everyone!" Undyne flashed a toothy grin, pulling Frisk, who opened the door, into a tight hug. Alphys politely waved.

Chara could feel herself getting more and more irritated by everyone's presence. The Underground deathly silent and void of inhabitance brought a cruel grin to her face. Unfortunately, the thought caused her cheek to prick, and all she can imagine is Frisk's weeping face.
Chara stiffened. She can't un-do the years of hurt, or make right of her actions. She's forced to live with herself, and so is Frisk. She's sick of how the inside of her body stirs whenever she thinks of what she's done.
Fighting Sans or Undyne would be too difficult anyways.

"You do look a lot like Frisk, almost the spitting image of her!" Undyne greets, and Chara comes to the conclusion that no monster respects personal space.
     "Nice to meet you, I'm Undyne!" Chara stared at her outstretched hand aversely. She felt no inclination to accept the gesture, so she didn't. Undyne blinked before awkwardly straightening up and moving over to noogie Papyrus. Alphys then paused in front of her.
"How're y-you feeling?" She asked. Chara's mind went blank.
"Huh?" She notices Alphys fiddle with her wrist. She feels bad, but not bad enough.
"After the.. separation, Toriel told us you weren't feeling s-so great," Alphys explained, her eyes roaming Chara's face. "Do you feel better?"

     How does she feel? Chara doesn't know. She subconsciously brought a hand to her chest, the sensation of a SOUL that filled the emptiness was gone. She was hollow, deservingly. That sensation didn't belong to her. Frisk was right, she leeched off of her determination, draining her, using her without an ounce of repentance.
And Frisk still wasn't entirely free either, her whole impossible existence is still a burden.

"Chara? Did you he—"
"No."
"Wha—"
"No. I don't feel better. I should go back." Chara rose from her seat, avoiding everyone's stares as she rushed back to her room.

• • •
Author's Note

Yeah, no Papara yet..
I mean they met! And next chapter will have a little more.
Later in the series there'll be a whole lot, as the description implies.
Anyways, I hope you enjoyed! Stay tuned for the next chapter next week!