How Could You Forget?

Fix

Frisk left the safety of Sans' room in a bout of annoyance, but not before taking her flower companion with her. She couldn't bring herself to leave the weak plant by himself with a seriously injured and slightly unstable skeleton. So instead, the two of them made their way to the bathroom at the end of the hall, at least that was what they came up with after a bit of investigating.
Pushing past the creaking wood, she stepped into the dimly lit bathroom. It wasn't much to look at, just bare walls with a few cracks running through it undoubtedly from years of slamming doors and whatever else. There was a small sink, a smudged mirror hanging above it and a little tub in the very corner, looking like it hadn't been used in years.

Setting Flowey down on the edge of the sink, Frisk took a moment to inspect herself. After all, it had been quite a while since she was conscious. She wasn't surprised at the dirt and blood marring her face and arms, but she did huff and pout at the large rat's nest of hair. Turning to Flowey, she hesitantly asked if he would be able to cut off the clumped mess. The plant gave a small nod and instructed her to turn around for him and hold her hair in a ponytail, which she was able to do after positioning her hurt hand at her chest. The sound of air being cut made her jump slightly, and when she felt the weight settle in her cupped palm, she gently pulled her hand away to reveal a good 10 inches of hair having been sliced. With a silent sigh, she turned around to inspect herself, thanking her friend for his assistance. Her hair was still frizzy and a bit tangled, but it was now cut into an asymmetrical bob and made her feel lighter thanks to all that hair being chopped.

Finally, she took a moment to check on her wounds. What she saw left her astounded.

Her arm, once mangled beyond recognition, had been stitched together in a fairly neat pattern, although by the painful throbbing and way her flesh hung awkwardly, she knew the bone was still shattered. Looking up into the sink, she took a moment to inspect the wound on the back of her neck, finding only a scabbed over wound in its wake. Lastly, she moved to remove her leggings, making Flowey glow a bright pink as he swiftly looked elsewhere while she struggled to take them off with one hand. As the garment fell to the floor she marveled at her leg. Of course along with any accident there was a scar no doubtedly where the fall had created a gash from calf to thigh, but to her surprise, the gash had closed up fully. A small smile lit up her features as she whispered a quiet thanks to her silent companions, both mentally for Gaster and out loud for Flowey.

Flowey gave a tiny squeak of acknowledgement whereas Gaster addressed her mentally so as not to startle the plant.

As Frisk finished undressing, she turned the taps, starting just a tad at the loud groan of pipes. The shower lurched before finally spraying a steady stream from the old showerhead jutting from the wall limply after presumably years of neglect. Although she supposed monsters didn't have much use for showers? From all that she had seen, monsters had no need to bathe. Although it was fair to say she had little to no experience on that since ever since she arrived they had been chased by bloodthirsty creaures. Nevertheless, an unexpected image of Sans in just a shower cap, singing into a loofah made her burst into a fit of giggles.

Realizing she had nothing to really bathe her body with, the girl quickly scanned the area, smiling when she noticed a small linen cabinet beside the toilet, although by the looks of it, the thing hadn't been touched in years. Nevertheless, she reached in and pulled out an old stained towel, which fortunately passed the sniff test, and she grabbed a tattered washcloth. Her face scrunched up at the sight of the disheveled cloth, but figured that it must not be a big deal to the skeletons, and she was grateful they had anything really. She quickly removed her underwear, and with a sigh she washed her panties in the sink since she had no other choice.

Frisk hurried back to the still running shower and held her good hand underneath the spraying water until the it was warm enough to step into the shower. After hoisting herself into the tub, she looked around for any body wash. Thankfully there was a small container with what looked like orange shower gel, which only took a few minutes to unscrew thanks to her good hand. Bringing it up to her nose, she took an inquisitive sniff and was pleasantly surprised to find it smelled like citrus. Giving a small hum of approval, she scooped a bit out and began to wash her hair, frowning as the water was tinged brown either from the dirt and blood, or maybe a bit of both. Pushing past the nasty water, she kept washing until it ran clear before moving on to washing the rest of her body, save for the stitched arm since she didn't want to risk pulling them out. Her body was in the same condition, bloody and dirty but bruises and small cuts littered her tanned skin. The last few days had been hell, running from monsters, bashing a dog in the face until he.. Well hopefully just passed out, but Frisk had a strong feeling he was taking a dirt nap. Things had not panned out the way she hoped, but now she had friends, some food in her belly, and someone that cared, even if it was for his own selfish reasons. Her thoughts drifted as she absentmindedly washed, purring in delight as she stood under the warm spray.