I'm sorry it takes ages to write these. I'm a busy adult with many things to do, like watch videos on youtube and not do college work. Plus I'm still not certain on how to write the characters, cause I am still primarily a Hetalia writer and even then I have certain groups I tend to stick with there. Still, I'm looking forward to writing Mettaton and some others in this fic, and having fun with the Undertale characters.

Not gonna lie. This chapter proper sucks. Bear with me here!

...

It was safe to say dinner was more than a little awkward.

Frisk pulled apart pieces of bread to scoop up the different dishes on their plate: two different types of chicken curry and rice, among many other delicious homemade things. They helped themselves to a bit of everything, as usual, barely noticing the spice as they wolfed down enough for three. They needed to replenish their energy badly after the afternoon's events.

"My, my," commented Toriel, "you have an appetite today, my child."

Frisk just beamed up at her, cheeks puffed out and full of food. They didn't want to speak, for fear Asriel or Chara's voice would come out instead. They knew the other two wanted to talk to her, badly, but the child couldn't bear to see Toriel cry again. And how to you even begin to explain to someone you've been possessed by their dead children? Frisk was bad enough with words as it was. She would think it was a cruel joke, not understand what has gotten into her sweet little child, and probably not speak to them for a very long time. Best not to risk it then.

Still, it was hardly unusual for them to remain silent, even with Toriel.

Their brain was fuzzy, Frisk barely able to hear their own thoughts over Asriel's crying, and Chara's desperate attempts to calm him down. The overwhelming longing gripped at their heart, to reach out and hold their mother close, it was unbearable and, apologies to Asriel, they couldn't risk hugging her again randomly across the dinner table. Asriel had made sure to cuddle Toriel as much as he could the last hour or so, and it was starting to get weird to Toriel, who had no idea what was wrong.

So there was nothing left for it, they would have to excuse themselves as soon as possible and just hide it out until they were used to their guests, because having to pay attention to the others, eating, and what Toriel was saying was starting to make them irritable, and such an emotion didn't suit them.

Frisk wolfed down the rest of their meal, waved goodbye, and was out of the room before Toriel could react. They darted up the stairs, ignoring Asriel's protests and longings for his mother. It wasn't his fault, they knew, but it was hard to think straight through this surge of horrendously familiar emotion.

There had to be a way to get them out, and give Asriel and Chara their own bodies so they could hug Toriel themselves, without forcing Frisk to do it.

They ran into their room, stopping to quietly shut the door before flopping into the plush rug in the middle of the room and rolling over to their toy chest. Maybe a few hours playing would take all their minds off the gravity of their situation.

Their room was small but comfy, perfect for their tiny self and designed lovingly by Toriel, with their input, of course. Everything was bright red and flowery, every piece of fabric thick and warm from the quilt to the handmade jumpers hanging in the wardrobe. They tried to keep the place neat, honestly, but Toriel spoiling them rotten with anything they could want didn't help much and there was just so much to tidy all the time. Right this minute the floor was covered in wool from an ill-fated attempt at knitting earlier that day to take their mind off their plan to explore the attic.

As much as people admired Frisk for their patience, even they had no idea how they could possibly sit and do something frustrating with as much on their mind as they'd had.

Frisk reached for a soft football near the top of the chest before Chara yanked their hand over towards the plastic knife and fork set.

No, Frisk whined in their head, but Chara ignored them.

"I wanna play picnic!" she cried, but before Frisk could reply, Asriel gave a huff.

"I'd like to draw instead," he piped up, "haven't done that in a while."

I like drawing, Frisk agreed.

"But-" Chara was still holding the knife.

"Come on," Asriel mumbled, "please."

We can draw first and play something else later, Frisk suggested, and although Chara didn't seem to like that idea one bit, she relented, sinking into the corner of the shared mind.

Fetching their cleanest sketch pad from the shelf, Frisk flopped onto their bed and let Asriel take over, encouraging him as he struggled to use a body for the first time in years. The crayon in their hand was heavy, too bulky for him and it took all of his focus to navigate it across a page in Frisk's notebook.

But eventually, he settled in to drawing a field of golden flowers whilst Frisk- mentally- sat back and had a think to themselves.

Really, this couldn't go on for much longer; even if they could get used to their guests Frisk didn't want the three of them squashed into one headspace together forever. It was nice to have some company, but they were a private child and even Papyrus and Kid, their closest friends, wore them out easy and they needed to take time out for themselves. Plus, they were independent. Frisk did their own thing most of the time. What could they say? Before Toriel, they'd been all alone and old habits died hard.

Not to mention souls were heavy- something that had never even occurred to them whenever they thought of the important subject of what a soul was- and three on one little child's neck was more than straining.

Chara was a loud, offending presence that disturbed Frisk deeply with her warped perspective of life. They knew each other too well for people who had just met, and her past- plastered across all their minds but something she was refusing to talk about- was too much for even little unfortunate Frisk to handle and process, let alone comfort their new sibling.

Asriel was a far more docile presence, small and timid, trying not to intrude on the other two yet still somehow managing. He cried a lot too, but that might have been the situation they were in and Frisk didn't blame him at all.

Chara was more tender around her little brother, voice soft, caring. Frisk, despite being the youngest here, was inclined to feel the same way about him.

These two souls were more than troublesome, but they- along with Toriel and their friends- were the family Frisk had longed for, and they weren't going to let them go without a fight. Even if it was for the rest of their life, they'd rather hold on to Asriel and Chara's spirits than expel them and scatter them to the four corners of the earth. But they would much rather find a solution they would all be happy with.

Fresh out of ideas, they elected to talk to Kid about it the next day.

…

Later that night, Frisk sat on a beanbag in the corner of their room, resting their mind as Chara took over, showing them both how to knit a little scarf for winter, something simple the younger children could follow. Now that Asriel had had his fun, it was Chara's turn and Frisk for one was glad everyone was now happy, because they weren't sure they could take anymore conflict.

As their eyes began to droop, they heard a faint knocking on the door and Toriel popped her head in.

Asriel pulled their lips into a smile, but thankfully both the Dreemurr children remained silent.

"Oh, my child," Toriel smiled warmly, "you learnt to knit all by yourself? My, I am so proud of you!"

Frisk gave the weakest of smiles as Chara finished her row and set the needles down, allowing Toriel to carry them to their bed. It had been a long day, and frankly, all three needed a well-earned sleep.

...

Sorry this chapter's so short. It's meant to be! It wasn't meant to take so long though I just have a lot of fics to get through.

Hopefully the story will pick up next chapter and I can introduce more characters.