The Retriever Institute

Stepping Stones

Cross leaves the door cracked open just barely and clambers into bed. He wants to know if Horror is in trouble, or if Nightmare is in trouble... he wants to know who he has to be afraid of. He wants to listen to them and ignore the spectre sitting quietly at the edge of the bed. He wants to move on from the lab, he wants to forget it ever existed. He wants to forget the doctor, his harsh words and cruel hands. He wants so much right now but he doesn't know how to get any of it, how to fix anything about this and it's terrifying.

"Do you think it's my fault we're stuck here?" Cross asks quietly, maybe even a little tearfully.

Chara stares. This is the most childlike he's seen Cross in a long time. Right now, there's no fighter, or killer, or brave face in the room with him, just Cross. It feels almost as if Cross were stripped of every label, and only a scared child sat in front of him. The skeleton has his face tucked into a pillow, and has lazily dragged a single fluffy yellow blanket over his shoulder. It doesn't cover his feet because it's still half folded. He thinks to pull it over him the rest of the way, to protect his little brother from the cold, but he realizes quickly that he can't.

"Of course no, Cross..." he pauses, voice sort of breaking in contemplation. "I don blame you, I never could. I am... just... sorry. Sorry that, I was not there to help you, to protect you." Chara mutters in the sort of broken English he always spoke.

The admission hangs heavy in the air between them. All Chara can think about is how much he misses tucking him in, like he did when they were little. When Cross was little more than ten, trapped in a dinky cell with a thin sheet. Paps was even younger. He brought both of them up, in a strange way. He made sure they always had enough to eat, and tried to take the brunt of the doctor's anger. Frisk had shared much of it, back then. As the eldest, they both ended up sort of responsible for them.

"We're trapped again..." Cross murmurs.

Chara doesn't know how to help. He doesn't remember the last time he did know how. Frisk had always been better at this than he was. They were probably the kindest out of all of them. As much as Chara is glad they didn't suffer his fate, he almost wishes they could swap places for Cross' sake. They might've been able to make him feel better. As much as he's done, all the time they spent together and still, Chara still doesn't know what he can do for him.

"They have not hurt you, that is... Already better than the lab."

Cross burrows hopelessly into the pillows, "not yet."

"You believe in them, you believe they want to help you, no? ¿Por Qué?" Chara asks, watching Cross kick the blankets a little further over his legs.

"You were not there when Nightmare took me to the doctors here, or when he took me to the training rooms." Cross states simply. "The doctors were gentle and quiet voiced, and even when they did tests they didn't try to hurt me. They asked about you, they were... Scared, by the doctor's experiment. And when Nightmare took me to the training room when the LV was building, he stood to the side and let me break things... He told me I did good when I did. I hit him because he got too close and I panicked and he still didn't get mad, he just said sorry for stepping into my space and told me I was alright."

"I was no... Eh, not there. I am sorry for that," Chara whispers.

"That's not your fault. I just... I need you to trust me, I'm not un pequeño chico," he airquotes that with the utmost distain, "anymore. I'm... We're not in the lab anymore. We're not even in the same world anymore."

Chara laughs a little, he's right. Even if it's horrible that he is. "We are not in the lab, and somehow that is scarier than having been there," the spectre jokes, sighing.

"I think it will be okay in time," Cross murmurs, "I think we'll be safe here... I think we have a chance."

"Ay, you have grown. Tú hermano, y Frisk, they would be proud. I know that much. We are not free, but... Perhaps we are not in danger," Chara admits, sighing. "Now pull those blankets over you right or you'll never get warm..."

Cross smiles a little and fixes the blankets, finally. Chara breathes a sigh of relief, and that makes him laugh. Chara misses seeing him laugh, even now, as lost as he feels, it makes him smile wider. He missed Frisk so much, but, he can do it on his own. That's what they'd tell him.

"Would they really be proud of me? Do you think?"

"Always. You did what they could not. You got us out. They would both be, eh, muy feliz... to know how far you have come," Chara assures him.

"Gracias, lo necesitaba eso," Cross mutters softly.

As if the language were a secret to be heard by no one but them. It felt too much like a home neither of them remembered, too much like whispering in the back of the cell when they were too tired to string together sentences in a language not their own. It felt so much like having a family again, and stars knows they're both scared to lose the last family they have left.

Cross rolls on to his back with a sigh, and in a better English than he's spoken his whole time here he says, "I'm going to take a couple minutes, and then go back to them."

Chara sighs, "okay, okay. Be careful, Cross."

Cross feels a little less like a series of letters and numbers, and more like himself.

~~~~~~~~

This chapter was a little short and I actually didn't plan to write it at all, but I felt like, after thinking of it, it would be too important to omit. Again, feel free to drop any questions or ask for any translations in the comments. :)

Remember to attain an appropriate amount of human sustenance, and good hydration. Don't forget to have a wonderful day, either! Much love from a mothy friend. This is it for my time with you today, But I do hope you enjoyed this chapter you silly little butterflies.

- Arca