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DISCLAIMER: I do not own Undertale. That honor goes to the genius mind of Toby Fox.

It had been two days since you'd first woken up in the home shared by Queen Toriel and the True Pacifist child.

Most of it was spent in bed, as your body worked to expel the worst of your illness – it had been about two weeks since the symptoms first showed up, you'd deducted (give or take a couple days). Thankfully, most of it had been spent unconscious. You probably would have gone half-crazy if you'd been awake and aware of all these horrible sensations the entire time. The aches and chills had just started to fade, although your sinuses were still so congested you'd nearly forgotten what it felt like to breathe through your nose. That, and this pesky sore throat and cough were still hanging around. They were more annoying than anything now, but each cough made your esophagus hurt just a little bit more.

Out of it all, though, sneezing had to be the worst. It left a gross mess that took several tissues to clean away, ripped at your phlegm-y esophagus, and with your nose being too clogged to release the full force of it, each one made an uncomfortable pressure bubbled up in your ears that took a while to go away.

Plus, sinus headaches. Talk about unpleasant.

Long story short, now that you were lucid enough to experience it, you'd been feeling pretty icky the past couple days. You tried to take as many naps as possible, to sleep through the worst of this funk, but one could only sleep for so long before they got tired of it (pun somewhat intended).

When you could actually manage to stay upright for more than a few minutes without getting light-headed, you took to exploring this little room that had been donated to the cause of your recovery. It was simply furnished with little décor. A bed was nestled across from the door and closet, tucked in the corner beside a large window. It gave you a scenic view of the snowy backyard. Just beyond the foot of the bed's frame was a bookshelf, and the desk you'd hidden under that first, eventful day, opposite from where you rested your head. A dresser sat a few more feet down from that.

Going by the layout and lack of personalized aspects, you figured this was a guest bedroom. The bookshelf was filled with various items, aside from its namesake purpose of holding books; knickknacks, mostly. Reading material varied from children's books to longer, more complicated novels, and puzzle-activity collections. You'd considered reading through some of them, but... they weren't yours, and you didn't want to be rude by picking through everything like that. You'd yet to so much as look inside the closet. Right now, instinct had everything on a "look-don't-touch" basis.

Well, asides from the bed. But that was kind of a given, considering.

Most of the time was passed by listening to Toriel and the human move about their house. Sometimes the Queen would knock on your door, asking if you needed anything. If you didn't respond after a few minutes, she tended to get the message and walk away, but there was at least one or two times a day where she'd peek her head inside to check up on you. When that happened, you either covered yourself with blankets, or hid in that little space underneath the desk.

By now, Toriel seemed to understand that you had little to no intention of leaving your temporary room, and that you were uncomfortable with the others' presences. The hallway was always suspiciously empty when you left to use the bathroom, and since you wouldn't come out for meals, she'd taken to leaving plates of food or healthy snacks by the door whenever you peeked outside (you'd taken to stashing the more preservable ones in various spots around the room. Old habits die hard). She always waited a few minutes after you left empty dishware outside before picking it up without a word. You appreciated that she held respect for your personal space, but you also knew that she was determined to step past those boundaries of yours, sooner or later. You could feel it every time she stopped by to check in.

She wanted to see you – and you couldn't fathom as to why. After what you did... why was she acting so eager-to-please and patient with you?

You didn't deserve her kindness. Or her tolerance.

Honestly, you wished you were back in your house. At least there you didn't constantly feel like you were walking on eggshells. Here, though... in this house, you were scared of making too much noise. Or ruining something, and upsetting your hostess. Hell – so much as looking outside of window for too long made you nervous! What if a monster came through the yard and saw you? They would know where you were, and try to... you didn't know what, nor did you want to find out.

What if Toriel received backlash from her community, for harboring the very human who had murdered their king under her roof? What a way to repay her kindness.

It was better safe than sorry, and to tell the truth, the very idea of staying in the monster settlement for much longer made your stomach knot with anxiety.

You were scared of what someone may do, if they were feeling particularly... unkind. Not that you would have blamed them, but... still. You weren't exactly eager to face the threat of injury. Or worse.

The only monster you actively saw and sort-of-interacted with was Alphys. The Royal Scientist came over every afternoon for a checkup on your health. She was quiet and courteous and moved carefully, so even if you still felt... antsy, things weren't as bad as they could have been. Besides, there was less history between the two of you. Though she'd helped you out a lot in the Underground, you hadn't interacted with her quite as much as the others. That, and she was honestly one of the only monsters you could remember not trying to attack you outright, or... at all, for that matter.

Sure there had been the mix-up with Mettaton, but she hadn't done it to hurt you. She had wanted to help you – as well as herself. And even then, Mettaton still tried to kill you. Willingly. Alphys had only helped you; she upgraded your phone, taught you about accessing Inventory boxes, and even on how to use and defend yourself against Yellow magic! But not once had she ever, personally attempted to use it on you.

In a way, her proximity was... calming (well, as calming as a monster could be to you right now). The closeness still made your wary, but you could handle it more easily than the others. As much as you tried to avoid your temporary caretakers, you couldn't deny that a piece of you was yearning for closeness and comfort. However wary or frightened that piece may or may not be. Humans were not solitary creatures, and you were no exception. Five years had really taken their toll on you, but you'd grown used to the pattern of solitude that surrounded you like a barrier.

It wasn't until... day four, maybe, that someone finally tried to take a small step over those boundaries.

There was a quiet knock on the guest room's door, a little past eleven in the morning. It had startled you some – after all, Toriel had already come and gone with a plate of breakfast (sliced fruit, toast, and a cup of tea; it'd been scrumptious), and Alphys wasn't due to show up for at least a few more hours. Other than that, you were left alone throughout the day. This little schedule divergence already had you feeling nervous, but you tried to swallow the lump forming in your throat. Easier said than done.

You didn't move a muscle, silently hoping that whoever was out there would go away.

After a few moments, your tummy flipped as the doorknob slowly twisted to one side. You could feel a cold sweat break across your neck. Moving on instinct, you grabbed your blanket, and quickly swept over to the space underneath the desk. Wrapping the cover over yourself, only your eyes remained visible as you tucked into that protective spot, just barely peering beyond the wood frame hiding your anxious nest from the doorway's viewpoint. It felt like you were inside a soft, snug cocoon.

The door peeked open, and you held your breath when an unfamiliar voice murmured a quiet "hello?"

You did not answer.

A head of wavy, reddish hair edged past the frame, and you saw pale, freckle-spattered skin. The Pacifist child cast a quick, inquisitive glance around the room, and you stiffened when those curious, green-flecked eyes landed on the edges of blanket coming from beneath the desk. They followed the trail of fabric, and your eyes locked for a moment. She looked surprised to see you down there, but smiled with a kind (albeit unsure) aura about her.

"Hi..." the child murmured, voice a bit cautious, "Um... may I come in?"

You did not distinctly agree nor disagree; the girl seemed to take this as an unspoken invitation (it wasn't, but then again, you hadn't exactly denied her, either), and quietly stepped inside. The door was closed behind her, and you hunkered down inside your cocoon the best you could – until you felt the desk pressing against your spine. Huddled like this, you could no longer see her. Judging by the sound of something resting on the ground by the entrance, you guessed she had sat down on the floor over there. Thankfully. At least she got the message that you wanted your space (despite the fact that she was kind of invading it already).

"Hi," she said again, introducing herself. Her voice sounding a little muffled from where you were concealed. "You're... Frisk, right...? It's nice to meet you."

You did your best to keep from flinching. How did she know your name? Had the monsters told her about you? If they had, why was she still acting so... civil? Why did her tone sound as if you were some kind of long-lost friend? This girl was confusing.

You stayed silent, unable to focus on much more than the furious flutter of your heart. The beat was pounding in your ears, and you squeezed your eyes shut. Attempting to keep your breaths steady and even. You're alright, your mind chanted, She's all the way over there. You're in your safe space. Nothing can get you here...

About a minute lasted before the human broke the silence again, sounding hesitant. "...I'm Shiloh."

There was a bud of guilt that bloomed at your unresponsive attitude. After all, the child – Shiloh – and Toriel had given you a segment of their home to call your own while you got over this illness; you were feeling so much better now because of it. They could have easily had Sans leave you outside to die, or called the Guard on you to be taken care of. But they didn't.

Then again, Toriel was a part of this equation. You highly doubted she'd leave someone who needed help outside in the cold. No matter how horrible they were, or what they'd done to hurt her. The fact that you were here now was testament to that.

"It's the weekend," Shiloh went on after another lapse of silence, "So I don't have school today. But Mom-" something in you flinched when she referred to Toriel as her mother "-had to help with settling more monsters in their new homes up here. So she won't be home until later. She... asked me to see if you wanted a tour of the house."

What?

"She thinks being around monsters makes you scared... but I'm a human, too, so we both thought it might make you a little more comfy."

You shifted, moving to look past the desk's frame, regarding the other child with a critical eye. Why was she so interested in talking to you? Had Toriel put her up to it? If she knew about you, there was no doubt she had at least an inkling of what happened while you were Underground. Of what you did to them – to Asgore. This child had never met him (you made sure of that), but he was a kind monster that was loved and held dear by his subjects. If this... Shiloh, loved her friends so much, than shouldn't she be angry with you, by extension? You'd taken away a large piece of the monsters' happiness – their hopes and dreams! Why was she acting like this?

Why was everyone being so damn civil toward you? You didn't deserve their mercy!

You fully expected your mind to begin delving into those self-deprecating thoughts, as it had a tendency to do. The other human seemed to have caught to that. Her voice broke into the mental turmoil, and you moved to glance over at her out of reflex.

"Aren't you getting bored of being in one room all day?" You frowned shyly down at your lap, but oddly enough, that brought a tiny smile to her face.

"It's okay," she murmured, and you felt very much like a timid animal that had been frightened into a corner, "Mom isn't home. Alphys won't be here for a little while. There aren't any monsters around. Don't you want to come out? We could... sit in the hall, and I could show you things from there."

A quiet, unsure hum escaped before you could stifle the sound. Shiloh looked taken aback to hear you making actual noise, but the smile grew a little more. You felt your cheeks grow warm with embarrassment. Shiloh's grin turned a little more devilish as an idea seemed to come to her.

"Mom made cinnamon-butterscotch pie~" the girl sang, giving a quick, humorous eyebrow-bounce. It startled an amused smile out of you, and Shiloh quite honestly looked delighted to see it. You leaned forward a bit, head inclined in a way helped hide your face beneath your fringe. The blanket was still hugged firmly over your body. Shiloh eyed it with a tinge of understanding to her gaze. "You can bring that with you, if you want."

The nerves kept you from finding a voice to use just yet, so you tipped your head at her. She merely nodded, and gave a little shrug. "I don't mind. It's just a blanket."

You hummed again, picking at the soft fabric. As tempting as the offer sounded, and as kind as Shiloh seemed, you still didn't feel comfortable with wandering around Toriel's home just yet. What if she came home unexpectedly? Or Alphys showed up early? Or some unaware monster dropped by for a visit? Surely the other human had a few friends in the community. One of them might come over to play, and then what?

They'd see you, recognize you, and your cover would be blown. You'd have to leave as soon as possible, before word of your stay in the settlement spread. What if Undyne caught wind of your being here (if she hadn't already), and came to... take care of you? If the stories she'd shared with you were any proof, she had loved Asgore like family. You had murdered her family. People don't just get over something like that because the murderer was feeling a little sick. Spirited, passionate, protective people like Undyne were bound to hold grudges. There would be no mercy offered to you if she found out, that much was for sure.

The memory of a spear piercing your belly made you flinch violently back into hiding with a strangled gasp. You could still feel the thrum of pure magic making an indescribable sort of agony carve a literal hole through your body. The warmth of its energy, the expression Undyne's face – she'd looked so torn – because you were supposed to be the final SOUL, the last human child they had to kill, and they were all going to be free now but she still had to kill a child to get it and now everything was going black and there was a light in the darkness and you don't want to die you had to RESET before it was too late and-!

There was something pressing against your forehead.

Someone was touching you get it away!

A hand caught yours when you went to smack whatever it was that was touching you away. Why was it so hard to breathe? Your ears were ringing and everything felt too hot and stuffy and why wasn't this thing letting you go?!

"H-hey!" A voice cut into the jumbled thoughts when your arms gave a sharp twist, trying to remove the force holding them. "Hey, i-it's okay, you're okay! I'm not going to hurt you, Frisk. It's okay."

They kept repeating that. "It's okay, you're okay, everything is okay" but was it really? Nothing was okay because you'd hurt someone and you hadn't just hurt him you killed him and now he was dead and then you just left everyone else behind and god you were so horrible.

"Frisk...?" A quiet whimper escaped your still-sore throat. "Are you alright? Do you need anything?"

You just shook your head because, No, nothing is alright! I shouldn't be here!

"Can you take a breath? A deep one. Count to five in your head while you do it." A hand went to gently grasp your own, but you flinched back. It didn't try a second time. You followed through with the voice's request, even if it was a bit odd. The first few tries didn't work very well – your breathing had gone ragged, and your lungs almost seemed to skip with the beat of your heart, making the air catch and bubble in your throat. When that happened, the voice – you were beginning to recognize it as Shiloh's – would quietly reassure you, and have you start again. She didn't try to touch you again, as it made your pulse race even faster, and instinct had you cowering.

Once you'd successfully taken your first, full, uninterrupted breath, Shiloh gave a quiet, encouraging cheer that made you feel more self-aware. A little more grounded to reality. It let your head separate itself from the thoughts that swirled inside for a moment, and something clicked as a part of you realized you were in the middle of a panic attack. That familiar, static-like tingle in your face and hands ached, but the pain made you alert. The breaths were easier to take after that, after recognizing that this is what's happening, you weren't in any immediate danger, and you needed to calm down.

You used the blanket to wipe tears from your face – when had you started crying? – and attempted to sniffle. Your nose was running, so a tissue from the box on the desk was gently pressed into your hands. Internally grimacing at the absolute mess that was... well, you, you went about distracting yourself by wiping away any remaining moisture. For a moment, you dared to peek up at the nearby presence, to find Shiloh had backed up while you calmed down. She was crouching next to the bed, balancing on the pads of her feet, tissue box in-hand with a patient, understanding look on her face. The expression reminded you so much of the ones Toriel had given you before this huge mess, that you almost broke into tears. It was by pure stubbornness and determination that you managed to hold it together.

"Do you want me to get you some water?" asked Shiloh, and you found yourself mechanically nodding along, just wanting a few moments alone to collect yourself. Something gave you the feeling that Shiloh knew that. She merely nodded, placed the box by your blanket-covered feet, stood, and walked out of the room with purpose in her stride. The quiet that was left behind made it easier to breathe, and you did so thankfully, drawing in deep lungfuls of air in an attempt to ward away what remained of the episode.

It's not like you were a total stranger to panic attacks – you used to get them every now and then as a young child, before you Fell. They were far and few in between then, with you having to face those alone, more often than not. Your human mother was always too busy to stop and calm you – it stressed her out just as much as it had you, taking the time to talk her child down from them. So you learned to cope. Then, with everything you'd been forced to face underground, it was no wonder there had been one every so often.

The worst you could recall had to be the one you'd had toward the end of your latest run through the Underground. You'd already fought, and been killed by, Asgore a handful of times. Every death had been agonizing, and even now, you still felt phantom pains of his trident's prongs forcing their way through flesh and bone. He had forced you to RESET so many times, but you hadn't wanted to fight. You didn't want to hurt him, let alone kill him – what was even the point anymore? So what, you'd get his SOUL, and be able to breach the Barrier. Big deal. What were you going to do with that? Go back to a home where you were constantly bored, alone, and ignored by the people around you? A place where you felt... like an outcast, despite those people having been your family.

Hell, your own mother was the reason why you'd- !

You stopped thinking after that, and anxiously chewed on your nails for a distraction. Remembering your human family... brought up a lot of old demons you would be better off forgetting. It's not that they were bad people... It was just...

Well, there was a reason why you considered your adventures under Mt. Ebott as being some of the greatest moments of your life, and let's leave it at that.

You combed your fingers through unkempt, overgrown locks of hair, giving an absent grimace of distaste. It had grown a lot over the years – and after five years without a trim, it was frizzy and nearly reached your mid-back. Long hair definitely did not suit you, in your opinion – it made you feel oddly uncomfortable. Maybe you could have Shiloh fetch you a pair of scissors...

A gentle knocking on the door broke you from your reverie; aforementioned human was standing in the doorway again, a gentle, hesitant smile on her face. She had a glass of water and two forks in one hand, and a plate in the other. There was a familiar, sharp-yet-sweet scent that drifted toward you when she entered, and it made your stomach flip as a barrage of memories came to mind. Ones that were filled with warm, comforting hugs, gentle lullabies, and the scent of old books and cedar. Of moments throughout countless timelines where you had been tucked in every night for days, weeks, sometimes months on-end, and given a kiss to the forehead before dreams claimed you.

But there were also times filled with dust and heartache. Those were the ones you wished you could banish from your memory forever.

"I thought you might want some," Shiloh murmured, handing off the glass to you before taking a seat by the bed, and sliding the plate to sit directly in between the two of you. On it, sat a slice of pie. One fork had been set on the edge, and you leaned forward a little, wriggling a hand out from beneath your blanket-cocoon to take it. You glanced at the utensil, then to Shiloh, who just smiled again. She was... surprisingly considerate. For a human, at least. You appreciated it.

After a few more moments of waiting, you still hadn't moved. Something deep down made you hesitate; what if this was just some kind of weird... test, or just a big misunderstanding? You didn't want to do something rude on accident. You sat still until the other child leaned over far enough to spear the corner off of the slice. She looked at you expectantly, and, taking it as permission to help yourself, you followed suit.

The dessert's taste matched the scent that came with it – the sweet, mouth-watering richness of butterscotch blossomed across your palette, complimented beautifully by a sharper, tongue-tingling undertone of cinnamon. Your eyes closed with bliss, and you nearly released a hum of delight.

The vaguely familiar taste gave you the strangest feeling of coming home.

God, you'd missed this.

So! Shiloh and Frisk have had their first, official meeting. I'm... not entirely sure on how I feel about the playing out of things here, to be honest. I tried my best, but I'll admit it was more work than I expected, digging into Shiloh's character a bit more to try and puzzle out how she'd react to this strange, new human child staying in her home. Let alone with the few stories she'd heard about Frisk from Toriel, Sans, and other various monsters (they don't really discuss Frisk much, for obvious reasons).

Also, a bit of a disclaimer: the depiction of Frisk's panic attack(s) in this story are based, for the most part, on my own experience with them. Panic attacks aren't really something you can measure the severity/symptoms of on a scale - everyone experiences them in a different way. So, I'm using my own experiences with them as a sort-of-reference to Frisk's. Needless to say - the intensity can vary, depending on circumstance. I'm not trying to romanticize them in any way, shape or form, nor am I trying to "brush them off" as being "no big deal". So please keep that in-mind.

Another note: I'm aware that there are quite a few spelling/grammar mistakes in previous chapters (thank you to those who have pointed them out for me, by the way - I'm keeping a note of those!). I've yet to go back and correct them, by I'm going to start revising previous chapters sometime over the next few weeks.

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Thanks for reading!

Guest Review Responses:

"Guy Reads" - Ah, technically, in any normal "Neutral Route", yes, Frisk's LV would remain at one. This is because of either, a) Flowey is the one to deliver the final attack to Asgore, thus killing him, or; b) Asgore kills himself to give Frisk his SOUL. In Saudade's case, neither of these happened. Frisk dusted Asgore, pure and simple. They didn't want to, but they still did. And, seeing as how they delivered the final attack, it affected their EXP, hence raising Frisk's LOVE.

"Guest" - Thank you very much. I'm glad you enjoyed the update, even if it was a tad uneventful. In regards to the crack in Frisk's SOUL - it's a personal headcanon of mine that, seeing as how the SOUL is the metaphysical representation of a person/monster, its appearance can be impacted by one's mental/emotional state. Frisk had been through a lot of trauma, physical, mental and emotional, over the years, and that has left its mark on them. They're depressed and alone, and have been as such for quite some time. It's quite literally a representation of them being damaged/broken inside. Hence the cracks and diluted SOUL color. A SOUL can be healed, but it takes time - just as it takes for someone time and support for a person to recover/improve from past injuries, trauma, and the like.