Chapter TRECE (the uncensored version)

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A/N: By popular demand, here she is! STRONG content warning for explicit adult content, so proceed with caution if you're someone who is uncomfortable with that. I would also like to mention that this is unedited and unaltered from it's original state (minus some glaring grammatical errors), so you're getting it in all of it's rough-draft glory.  _______________________________________________

Well, it was a nice day. That nice feeling ended right after dinner, when your father finally brought up the topic of Frisk, namely how excited he was to bring her back home. You had almost forgotten completely about that, but now the fear was all rushing back to you. Struggling to keep your composure, you muttered that it wasn't really the best time to discuss it.

"I don't understand, why can't I talk about bringing Frisky back home?" He asked. It was unfair. You shouldn't be talking to him like that.

"Because, it, it's just going to become an argument and I'd really rather not have to fight with you over this," you said through half-gritted teeth. You felt the familiar cotton-clad hand over your own, just like he had done the other day at the restaurant.

"I don't see why it should be an argument," your father remarked.

Ohhh, now your patience was wearing thin. Even the gentle pressing on your hand from Mettaton was unable to soothe you. But, instead of saying anything, you chewed at your lip to help you keep quiet and squeezed harder at Mettaton's hand.

"Well, we are going to talk about it, anyway," your father said, far too blasé for your liking. Your grip grew even tighter as you nodded stiffly. Briefly, in the very back of your mind, you hoped it didn't hurt him, although he was made of metal. It was probably hurting you more than anything.

Frisk, likely noticing the obvious tension, piped up with a story that she had from school and began a conversation that was far less tense and charged with anger. Bless her soul. You were able to ease up on you strangle-hold on Mettaton's hand and forced a smile onto your face. Now you would have to suffer through this meal while you knew that at the end you'd lose your sister again.

All too soon, your father was standing and giving you a meaningful look. Regretfully, and feeling every bit like an ashamed child caught breaking the rules, you released Mettaton's comforting hand and followed your father as he walked into your room. Your breath was held and your head hung, looking at your feet.

"Well?" You asked as you closed the door, already annoyed and trying your damnedest to keep your temper in check.

"There is no need to take that tone with me. Listen, I'm grateful that you took care of Frisk, but I have to bring her back home," your father said, his voice calm and even.

"Dad, you're not in a good place to be taking care of her," you appealed, bringing your arms defensively to your chest.

He paused, "I, I am okay now. I'm okay now."

"But," you faltered.

"I'm your father anyway. You don't get to decide this."

"I'm not a kid! And I can tell that it isn't a good idea for you to have Frisk!" You snapped. You hadn't meant to, but you couldn't take it back after you shouted.

"This isn't up for discussion!" He raised his voice, and you shrunk backwards, sitting on the edge of your bed.

You took measured breaths, speaking with forced calm, "Well, you can't just bring her home today. You can't just, there's stuff that you have to do."

"Then next week?"

You but your lip and nodded, focusing your gaze on the ground.

"Hey, honey, it's not that terrible. It'll just be back to how things have always been, before we lost her."

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