Through The Blue
By TwoDaysMaybe

Noelle Holiday clutches the present to her chest as she makes her way up the stairs
She's alone in the house, as usual, as always
Taking long, hurried strides by the dark and empty room of the upstairs hallway
Surrounded by a cold, heavy silence broken only by the clatter of her hooves on the hardwood
Noelle stares straight ahead as she walks, autopiloting along a path she could follow blindfolded
An unusual, almost uncharacteristic expression of calm on her face
Nothing like the sour scowl she usually wears from the moment she gets home, or the teary grimace she presses into her pillow when the long, lonesome nights finally become too much to bear
It only wavers for a moment when she finally stops in front of the locked door halfway down the hall
Her fingers don't even shake as she pulls the key out of her pocket, as she grips the knob, the chilly metal numbing her fingers
She closes her eyes, grits her teeth and takes a sharp breath
It's enough.
Noelle opens the door in one quick motion, flicks on the lights as she steps inside and shuts it behind her, eyelids still clamped shut
She wants it to look the same.
Just like back then, just like its owner left it
Warm evening sunlight shining through the window, making the floor shine like a lake of gold
Flashing off the posters for bands she was far too little to listen to, off the spines of the small library of comic books they'd read together on rainy nights
So full of music that it felt like it had been worked into the walls, pressed under the floorboards, like the song kept humming through the air after the guitar finally fell silent
It’s no good. Noelle knows what she'll see when she opens her eyes
Nothing is left of the bed but the frame, and the desk and floor are covered with boxes that hold those very comics and posters

Noelle sighs bitterly, the corner of her mouth twisting up
It shouldn't be different.
It should be the exact same, frozen in time, waiting for the person it’s meant for
But Mom is much too practical to let any square inch of the house go to waste
So this is her alternative
Turning the last traces of a life into a filing cabinet.
Noelle rubs her forehead, a little bit of her midwinter coat shedding onto her fingers as she steps towards the bedframe
No. That’s unfair.
She couldn’t do it herself. Maintaining the room as what, some kind of shrine?
She can barely stand to look at it, to exist within it, even in this barely recognizable state
Asking Mom to do that wouldn't be sentimental, or even selfish
It'd be cruel.
Besides, the room being a hodgepodge mess of boxes means she can do what she’s about to do without risking a long, awkward conversation with Mom
Noelle stands over the empty skeleton of the bed for a moment
She holds the present out in front of her, runs her thumbs along the thick, shiny wrapping paper
Slipping her fingers through the ribbon carefully tied around it
Then she kneels, sets it gently on the unfinished wooden slats, in the shadow of a box of musty clothing
"Merry Christmas, Dess."
A murmur hiding under the sound of her breath, barely more than the gentle movement of her fuzzy lips and the slightest hum of her voice
It sounds terribly loud in the years-long silence of her sister's room, like she's broken a taboo, screamed out in a library
An inexplicable anxiety bolts through her spine, drags her upright
For a moment, she thinks to leave it at that
Even this little memorial was difficult for Noelle
She had to push herself, past the cynical belief that it was stupid and embarrassing and the gnawing pain of the loss that's never really left her
Even so.
Even so, she feels like she should say something more

Maybe it's because of how long it's been
Maybe it's because someone should say something, instead of stepping around the Dess-shaped hole in the world, acting like it doesn't exist, like Dess never existed
Maybe it's just so she can do something with these feelings that boil in her gut and buzz thick as a cloud of gnats in her head
Pressing down on her in the middle of the night, until she can’t even scream
"I-"
But all the words she wants to say sound maudlin and stupid and wrong even as she thinks them, crumbling to ash in her mouth
What is she supposed to say to someone who's been gone for so long?
Goodbye? But she still isn't willing to admit it, even if it's probably true
Noelle never accepted that Dess was gone for good, still hasn't
Oh, how she wishes she could.
Wishes she could be rid of her sister’s voice whispering into her ear when her mind wanders, making her snap upright, cold sweat on the back of her neck
Wishes she could stop seeing the very tip of a snow-white tail vanishing around a corner, stop dashing after it every time even though she knows she’ll find nothing at all
There are too many things Noelle wants to say
She could stand here for years, howling curses at Dess for leaving her to face all of this alone, sobbing about how much she misses her, telling her about everything that’s happened in the years that separate that rainy winter night from now
Until the walls broke and the roof fell in
It would never be enough
And none of it would matter.
Not to Dess. Not to her.
She already knows the things she could say, and Dess will never hear them. Why bother putting them into words
Especially when it hurts as much as it does
And then she sees the narrow beam of pale light outside the window
Slowly winding its way up the driveway, cutting through the darkness and catching the falling snow in spotlight relief
A wistful, reluctant smile creeps across her muzzle, and she shakes her head
”I’ve got to go.”

With that, she stands
(Rubbing the soreness out of her knees as she does. Why didn’t Mom leave a rug in here or something?, she thinks)
Pats the present once, the soft thp filling the room
And then strides out of the room, wintergreen eyes burning with Christmas spirit
For the first time in years, something has changed at the Holiday residence
It’s subtle, subtle enough to be almost invisible from the outside
The lonely house on the edge of Hometown still towers gloomily over a sprawling lawn, both covered in a thick layer of snow that melted just enough during the day to set into a crunchy, slippery mass
Most of the windows are still dark, curtains drawn even during the day
There’s still no car in the driveway, just a pair of tire tracks cutting neatly towards the wrought-iron gates to the property
Slowly filling, vanishing as snow filters silently down from a starless, cloudy sky
It’s hard to believe anyone lives here.
Honestly, they don’t. Noelle and her mom eat here, sleep here, but there is a reason they both spend as much time as possible away from the house
Burying themselves in work, searching for excuses to hide from the memories that build up like cobwebs in the corners of the house
The decorations Noelle bought with her allowance are frankly fairly pathetic
A single string of colorful lights wound around the banister, twisting like a starspun creeper growing on a dead tree
A tree sits in the living room, completely dwarfed by the great, carpeted expanse until it seems almost comically small
Decorated with only a humble star at its peak and a few cheap, shiny orbs
Noelle isn’t even completely sure she bought the latter. They may have sprouted on their own, as ornaments of that type tend to do.
She grabs two obsessively carefully wrapped presents off of the coffee table, sets them carefully under the tree
Then dashes off towards the kitchen, checking her watch as she goes

The rich, warm smell of fresh chocolate cake fills the house, but Noelle just purses her lips as she opens the oven door and checks her watch
Just a few minutes left.
Behind schedule, yes, but still recoverable
She can do this.
Noelle runs her hands across her face
Rubs her nose, praying that the heat of the kitchen hasn’t made it glow too brightly
She smooths down her skirt, adjusts the collar of her shirt, and is just about to head to the front door when her eyes fix on the little sprig of mistletoe hanging from the archway between the kitchen and living room
This is so stupid, she thinks
If her nose wasn’t flushed red as an emergency light before, it certainly is now
But she doesn’t take it down.
She stares at it critically, hands on her hips
Does a little bit of mental math, comparing her own height to the height of a certain somebody
And then, standing on tip-hooves, adjusts the mistletoe a little bit lower
Just to be sure.
She tries as hard as she can to lock her face in an expression of cool disinterest as she walks towards the front door
Straining until her snout wrinkles with the effort of it
It’s useless.
By the time she throws the front door open, she’s already smiling from ear to ear
...Only for that expression to vanish as soon as she sees what’s outside her door
The light making its way slowly up the driveway is not, in fact, the headlights of a car
It’s a flashlight.
The shadowy figure holding it waves a mittened hand as it makes its way towards her, as does its taller, lankier companion
Both bundled up like polar explorers
The snow is so high that they have to lift their feet almost to their hips as they stumble and wade forward
”What the HELL are you idiots doing?!” Noelle screams, her voice carried away by the howling, icy wind
Kris, unsurprisingly, is the first to make it to the door

Pale cheeks flushed cherry-red as he pushes past her to stomp snow off his boots, and all over her mother’s very expensive floor
”Hey, Noelle! Merry Christmas!”
”I- Don’t tell me you two walked through that!” Noelle presses a hand to her head, aghast
Not that you’d know it to look at Kris, of course. His breathing is steady and easy, the only sign of the exertion a feral, sharp-edged little grin spreading across his face
The same one he always gets when he performs some absurdly inadvisable feat of strength
She’s about to grab him by the throat, shake him until she finally gets to the bottom of what the hell is wrong with him when Susie scuttles through the door, ducking under her arm
Shivers rock her tall, gangly frame, her scales blanched an unhealthy shade of thistle
”N-No, we, uh, w-w-we rode in Kris’s mom’s car,” she stammers, jaw muscles flexing furiously as she tries to keep her fangs from chattering. “Oh, yeah, Merry Christmas! T-t-thanks for having us.”
”It got stuck right at the gates. Snow was too deep.” Kris adjusts his scarf, tossing his mittens onto the floor. “Mom told me and Suz to go on ahead while she got the car unstuck. Would’ve been too heavy with me and Susie and Susie’s mom riding in it.”
Noelle can practically see it already. Undyne, snarling and growling and yawping like a wild animal as she lifts the sensible little sedan over her head and hauls it down the snow-choked driveway
Susie wrings her raggedy, greasy ponytail out onto the doormat. “S-s-seriously, though, it’s crazy out there! The snow was so deep Kris had to carry me on his shoulders most of the way!”
”It’s fine, Susie. You’re pretty light.”
Kris is too busy rolling the stiffness out of his muscles, Susie too busy shivering and blowing little puffs of flame onto her hands in a futile effort to warm them to see the look on Noelle’s face

A look of pure, raw jealousy, so furious it could put a hole in plate steel at twenty paces
”Well, make yourselves at home.” Noelle crosses her arms and sighs wearily. “Just don’t come into the living room until you’re done leaking all over the floor. The cake should be done in a few minutes, so just sit tight, and Kris, don’t you dare.”
Kris freezes halfway through the living room, adjusting the overstuffed, damp backpack that rests on his back like a snail’s shell
”Huh?”
”You heard me. Stay the hell out of my kitchen. There’s still stains on the ceiling from last time.”
Kris cocks his head, hair falling to the side as a scarlet eye stares curiously out from between the dripping strands
”Oh, I’m not gonna be the one cooking. Mom thought she’d make dinner. Y’know, to thank you for hosting us and all.”
Susie, who was curled into a little quivering ball of cold on the couch, suddenly judders back to life
The little color that’s managed to return to her cheeks drains away, and she glances at Noelle, shaking her head furiously
Not that Noelle needs the hint
She plants her hooves a few inches further apart and glares at Kris
A pale imitation of her mother, at best, but still more than enough to make him back down
”No. I’ve got it under control, Kris. Now go have a seat and enjoy your Christmas.”
Kris grumbles under his breath, something about how that’s barely any kind of meal at all, where’s the protein, but doesn’t argue
Flings the backpack onto the floor, where it lands with a wet thump
”Um, actually…” Susie rolls off the couch and crawls over to the backpack, rustles through it. “I might be able to do something with this.”
Noelle raises an eyebrow, and she quails. “I mean, if you don’t want me to, I won’t! But I can cook, really! Mom’s hopeless in the kitchen, so I do all the meals at home, and…”

She smiles up at Noelle, snaggletoothed and eager and almost painfully earnest
”I’m pretty sure I can do this. Trust me.”
Another, even longer, wearier sigh from Noelle.
”Oh, fine. Knock yourself out.”
”Nice! Hee, I’ve been looking forward to tonight, you know? It’s always just me and Mom at home.”
”Same.” Kris sets his feet on the coffee table, one arm stretched across the top of the couch. “It was gonna be cup noodles and anime on the TV with my mom for me until you invited us over, so thanks. Seriously.”
”Huh?! Wait, that sounds awesome!” Susie clasps her spindly claws together, bobbing on the tips of her toes. “We totally should’ve gone over to your place! Uh, no offense, Noelle.”
”None taken,” Noelle lies
”I mean, we can still do that. If you’re cool with it, Noelle.”
”I suppose I don’t mind.” It isn’t as though she had anything better planned.
She isn’t really sure what normal people usually do for Christmas.
Not that anime is really her thing, but it beats arguing with Mom, or crying alone in her room, or just not having Christmas at all
Or, more often than she’d like to admit, all of the above.
”Alright. I’m pretty sure Mom brought this one mecha show she likes with her. War in the… something or other..”
”W-Wait, War in the Pocket?” Susie swallows, sits down hard on the couch. “Um, I… I changed my mind. Let’s not do this. I-I mean, I bet Noelle came up with something way more fun for us to do, right?”
Noelle shrugs. ”Not really.”
”O-Oh. Well… I mean, I’ve already seen it, so-”
”Really? Amazing. I haven’t.” Noelle turns to Kris. “Come on, help me get the player plugged into the TV.”
”No, that’s not…! Guys, I don’t want to watch it again!” Susie wails. “It’s sad! It’s super, super sad! The first time I saw it, I cried so hard I almost threw up!”
No words are needed between Kris and Noelle

Their eyes meet for barely a heartbeat
Kris’s mouth splits wide, teeth gleaming like a shark tasting blood
And they both start fumbling even more furiously with the cords behind the TV
”Aw, c’mon! Noooo!” Susie kicks her feet against the couch, grabs at her hair, but she can’t hide the laugh that rumbles under the faux-tantrum
Kris is laughing too, a quiet, sly giggle
And Noelle laughs along with them, high and clear, harder than she has in days, months, years
Doesn’t stop, can’t stop until she finally sees the looks on their faces
Susie scrambles across the room, slaps Kris on the chest and cocks her head with a worried look
Kris drops the cables, takes a few careful steps towards Noelle
”Noelle… Is everything okay?”
A few residual giggles burble up, puffing out of Noelle’s muzzle. ”What are you talking about? Everything’s-”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wiHCY_hiI3U

She reaches up, brushes her fingers through the soft, shaggy fur under her eyes
Rubs them together, feels the warm damp between them as they come back wet with tears
”This? It’s nothing.”
It’s not nothing.
Years of loneliness, almost a decade of it
Lost in a chilly emptiness that clutched at her heart and covered her sight until she could only see the world in a muted, distant blue
Watching herself from the outside, paralyzed as her body slouched through the motions, snapping and flailing at anyone who tried to get close
She had been so, so certain that the rest of her life would be spent just like that
Frozen alive, separated from everyone and everything by a wall of ice she’d built herself
The wall is still there
It isn’t gone, not yet, not completely
But it is starting to melt.
That must be what’s running down her face right now, Noelle thinks
Even as she closes her eyes and smiles
It’s not nothing. It isn’t.
It'll be a long time before she can truthfully say that it is
So instead she says something else
To herself. To her friends.
To Dess.

Something that she knows is true.
”It’s okay,” she says, her voice cracking just a little
”I’m okay. Merry Christmas, both of you. I-”
I owe you the world.
You stupid, infuriating, wonderful idiots
Who took me by the hands
And helped me find my way out of those doldrum blue days
”I…”
Kris sniffs the air, his eyes going wide. “I think something’s burning.”
”Oh, goddamn it,” Noelle groans
But the smile lingers on her lips as she springs towards the kitchen, leaping clear over the couch as she runs
She knows, somehow, that the cake will turn out delicious.
That the onigiri or yakisoba or whatever the hell Susie makes will pair wonderfully with it
That Officer Undyne will “park” the car in the driveway and not just drop it onto the front porch
That tonight, as annoying and embarrassing and messy as it’s sure to be, will also be somehow enjoyable
That Mom will come home by tomorrow morning.
That she’ll see Noelle and her friends, snoozing well past noon, bloated and hungover on cake and eggnog
And instead of getting upset, she’ll smile gently to herself, and put a pot of coffee on before heading upstairs to bed
That the present in the empty room upstairs will someday be opened.
Noelle is probably wrong about all of that, definitely wrong about some of it
But for the first time in years
On this cold, noisy, scorch-smelling night
She’s certain that some of it could happen
That tonight, if only tonight
It’s okay to believe that good things can happen.
It's okay to believe in miracles.