Finn is falling.
It's not like last time. Last time, there was a couple seconds and then a thud. This time, it's forever.
Finn panics, reaching around themself for anything that might stop their fall, but they find nothing - they're trapped in an abyss, a dark, black, empty abyss, and there's nothing in it except for themself and the far-off shouts of their parents.
Mom! they try to scream, but nothing comes out, they can't move their tongue, so they force their eyes open and jerk back into the real world.
They blink, finding themself in a completely unfamiliar space.
They're sitting up under the covers in an extremely comfortable bed, complete with sheets and a pillow and a thick red quilt. The bed is in what appears to be a child's bedroom - there's drawings hung up on the walls, and a toy chest, and a child-sized wardrobe and bookshelves with more toys on them, and a little lamp on a little stool. The lamp is off - it's completely dark inside the room, but there's a sliver of yellow light peeking through underneath the bedroom's solitary closed door, and Finn can make out every object pretty clearly. They turn and look behind them: there's a floor lamp behind the bed, and a couple of really big stuffed animals stuck on the floor in between the bed and the wall.
It's strange. This room reminds Finn so much of their own room back at home, but different. They get the same feeling looking at the sliver of light underneath the door as they do looking at it back home - a feeling of comfort, security, coziness - somebody's still awake on the other side of that door, and it might be somebody who cares about Finn.
They look back down at the stuffed animals and are amused to find the dummy stuffed in among them. Its face is back to its original stitched face, and it appears to be... sleeping? Do dummies sleep?
Finn suddenly remembers everything that happened before, and they quickly glance down at their arms to find that their sweater has been replaced with a new one. They hesitantly shove back their sleeves to look at the damage, but there's no pain, and the wounds appear to be gone - completely healed. They stare at the smooth, untouched skin in awe, before shoving their sleeves back down and carefully crawling out of bed. They have a new pair of pants, too, but no socks, and their bare feet collide smoothly with the soft texture of the floor rug.
They make the bed to the best of their ability - no use leaving it all messed up - then climb around to rescue the dummy, pulling it gently out from in between two giant teddy bears.
Are you okay?! the voice in their head asks immediately.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Finn whispers, not wanting to disturb the dark. "I'm sorry for throwing you."
What... the dummy begins, confused, then remembers. What?! You saved my life. Again. You don't need to apologize for that.
Finn isn't sure about that - throwing people seems awfully rude to them, but they let it be.
They wander over to the door and hover their hand over the doorknob, then hesitate, thinking.
It's okay, the dummy assures them. Toriel didn't mean to burn you, it was an accident. She healed you and cleaned you up and brought you here.
"That was nice of her," Finn remarks. They still hesitate, however. "Did... did you talk to her, at all? About me? What I've been doing?"
The dummy is silent for a moment.
No, it admits. I was too scared to talk. Speaking up for you in front of a bunch of stupid tiny monsters is one thing, but Toriel... I just kind of clammed up. She knows me as just being a normal dummy, and I...
"Don't worry, I understand," Finn explains. They'd guessed that such a thing had happened after seeing the dummy's face back to its stitched form, gathering from how shy the dummy is. "I'll explain it all to her. She's probably really confused." I would be, too, if I'd just come back from the dead to find myself with a burnt unconscious kid on my hands.
Froggit tried explaining, but she didn't really understand, she was too busy with you, the dummy adds as Finn opens the door and steps out into the brightly lit hallway of Toriel's home. But you know, it doesn't really matter anyway. You're safe now. Toriel will take extremely good care of you.
Finn walks across to the living room, and then pauses at the doorway, looking in. The goat person is there, looking a great deal fluffier and friendlier in the bright light. Her face is knit with worry, and she's actually pacing a bit in front of the fire. There's an abandoned knitting project on the floor next to her rocking chair.
"Hi," Finn says awkwardly.
Toriel freezes with a start, then turns, her hands flying up to her mouth as she catches sight of Finn. She really does have a very sweet face; her eyes are like human eyes, with pale violet irises.
"Oh, my poor, sweet, innocent child," she whispers, and suddenly she's kneeling on the floor in front of Finn, tears streaming down her fluffy face. "I am so, so sorry. I did not mean to injure you, I..." Her voice breaks, and for a moment she just looks helplessly at Finn, pain flaring in her eyes.
Finn is somewhat surprised by this behavior, and they aren't quite sure how to deal with it. So, avoiding words, they smile and give Toriel a big one-armed hug, holding tight to the dummy. Toriel recovers from her shock a couple moments later and hugs them back, a big, fluffy hug.
They separate, and Finn looks Toriel in the eyes, still smiling. Toriel still looks shocked, but she smiles back.
"This is awkward," Finn observes.
Toriel laughs a shaky laugh. "Yes, I suppose so."
"I'm Finn," Finn offers, holding out their unoccupied hand.
Toriel looks at it in confusion for a few seconds.
"I am... Toriel," she finally replies, holding out her hand awkwardly as well.
Finn grabs it and shakes it gently. Toriel has obviously never participated in a handshake before, but she plays along remarkably well.
"So," Finn remarks, clasping their hand back around the dummy. Toriel glances at it, then back at Finn's face. "Um. Is that pie... er... meant for anything in particular, or....?"
A couple minutes later, Toriel is sitting in her rocking chair and Finn is sitting comfortably on the rug in front of the fire with the dummy under one arm and a plate of warm pie balanced on their lap, a spoon in their empty hand. The pie is cinnamon-butterscotch - a peculiar flavor that Finn has never heard of before, but has found to be mouthwateringly delicious. The crust is perfection, golden-brown and crispy, and the filling is some kind of pleasing pudding-like substance. Finn can't remember the last time they had something this good.
"This is really awesome," Finn tells Toriel, who smiles awkwardly.
"Thank you, child..."
Toriel is not nearly as comfortable as Finn is, and they can tell. She keeps shifting nervously in her seat and seems afraid to speak, as if the silence were a fragile glass bowl and she doesn't want to shatter it. Finn guesses it has something to do with being brought back from the dead by a little kid after being murdered by another little kid, but they wish they could make Toriel feel better.
Speaking of that little kid...
"Toriel, erm..." They don't want to ask about them directly, that seems rude. Instead, they choose a different path. "I'm sorry, but could you... um... explain to me what's all going on, maybe? Like..." Toriel looks grim, and Finn lets go of the dummy to wave about at the room about them. "What is all this? Why are you all down here?"
Toriel blinks in surprise. "Why, of course, child. I thought you must already know."
Finn shakes their head. "Nope. They don't teach things like ancient civilizations under nearby mountains in elementary school."
Toriel frowns. "That is very strange. I would have thought..." She stands up, then paces over to the bookshelves and withdraws a small, dusty tome. "It is of no matter. It is simple, really." She hesitates for a moment, then carefully sits down on the floor, as close to Finn as she dares. She opens the book, and Finn sees that the inside is full of pictures.
"Long ago, two races ruled over Earth: humans, and monsters..."
By the time Toriel finishes her story, Finn's pie is gone, and Toriel has become completely involved in the tale, pointing out different characters in the text and practically leaning against Finn so that they can both see the descriptions. Apparently, in this strange history, these "monsters" had once lived on the surface, like the humans, but then a big war had happened, and seven human sorcerers had trapped all the monsters underground with a magical barrier that prevented everyone inside from leaving but prevented nobody outside from coming in. It was a part of the history of the earth that Finn had never known before, and it made them sad. They wonder who started the war, and why the humans had felt it necessary to deal such a huge blow to the poor monsters.
"That's awful," Finn finds themself saying. "Nobody deserves to be stuck underground forever." They look up at Toriel, who is still staring at the book. "Isn't there a way to free you all?"
Toriel blanches, which Finn wouldn't have thought was possible, considering how white Toriel already is. "You do not need to worry about that, child," she replies, standing up and putting the book back into its spot. "We are perfectly happy down here." She turns and looks sharply at Finn. "Though, I doubt you will be," she adds somewhat bitterly.
The tone of her voice leads Finn to guess that Toriel has met with other fallen humans before, ones who just wanted to get the heck out of this place.
"Actually, I never liked my life up on the surface," Finn admits. "I'd be more than happy spending the rest of my life down here. Assuming," they add - Toriel is now staring at them in complete disbelief - "everybody else down here doesn't get brutally murdered. Toriel, what's beyond the door?"
Finn, please don't, the dummy begs, surprising Finn.
I'm doing what I have to, they reply, wondering if the dummy can hear their thoughts in return.
Toriel makes a great effort to appear unconcerned. "What door, my child?"
"The door," Finn replies patiently, "in your basement."
Toriel narrows her eyes.
"Death."
"That's what I was afraid of," Finn explains. They get to their feet, leaving the dummy on the floor so that they can go put their dish in the sink after they're done with their thought. "You see, I doubt whatever killed you is going to stop there. If there's other monsters beyond the door - which I'm sure there are - they're going to kill them, too. They're going to kill everybody, Toriel. And I... I'm the only one that can stop them," Finn ends, somewhat embarrassed at how cliché that sounds. From what they've seen, there is nobody else. Nobody else has the power to do what they can do.
They have a chance to be the hero. Hero to an entire civilization.
Toriel seems to be taking a while to digest that, so Finn heads into the kitchen and rinses their plate. They return, confidence boosted, to find her slumped in her rocking chair, staring at the fire.
"Toriel?" Finn asks anxiously, moving over and placing a cautious hand on her shoulder.
"Forgive me, my child," Toriel says wearily, sitting up. "I am not... quite myself currently. I have not treated you as I ought." She glances at Finn; her eyes are sad and tired. "I retired to this place to care for humans who I knew might one day fall into the Underground. Six children, I have found and led here; six children left, and met their deaths. The seventh... brought death to me. And now there is you. I do not know what to make of you. It is not every person, who can restore the dead to life. You are beyond innocent and kind, and your frog friend has told me of how you have assisted every being you encountered on your journey here, down to that dummy, which you painstakingly repaired with your own hands. I am... in awe of you, my child. It almost seems like a dream. You are unreal. But you are still a child," Toriel continues, her eyes suddenly aflame, "and every child I have ever cared for has died on the other side of that door, and I cannot let that happen to you!"
Finn flinches, startled by Toriel's sudden vehemence.
She winces, the flame dying from her eyes. "Would not it... would not it be a happier fate, if you simply stayed here, and I took care of you, and we made pies and studied snails?" she asks softly, pleadingly.
Finn almost cries, Toriel looks so desperate. They wonder how long she's been alone. She definitely sounds like she's been hurt. A lot.
"I want to make pies and study snails with you, Toriel," Finn assures her earnestly. "I want to stay here more than anything." Toriel's home, Toriel herself... it was a dream situation. What child wouldn't want to stay, if given the chance? "But I can't rest while that other kid's off murdering innocent monsters. I have to save them." Toriel nods slowly, understanding. "Can... can I come back afterward?" they ask, hesitantly.
Toriel stares at them for a moment, studying them.
She smiles sadly. "Of course, child. You are always welcome here."
Finn grins. "Do you know where my stuff is? I'd rather get this over with..."