[This is one those moments where he almost wishes someone else were here. Someone who could make this decision. But there isn't. And there's no time to deliberate. The weight of it slams into his shoulders.]
[Chara isn't injured.]
[Frisk is losing it.]
[Look after Frisk, won't you?]
[Shiro turns from Chara. Turns to Frisk, trusting armor made of alien origin against their weapon. He keeps his metal arm out, in warding, to guard, while his real hand scoops Frisk to his chest. They need to get out of here. Back up the stairs. Back to the medical ward.]
no subject
[Chara isn't injured.]
[Frisk is losing it.]
[Look after Frisk, won't you?]
[Shiro turns from Chara. Turns to Frisk, trusting armor made of alien origin against their weapon. He keeps his metal arm out, in warding, to guard, while his real hand scoops Frisk to his chest. They need to get out of here. Back up the stairs. Back to the medical ward.]
[I'm sorry.]
Hang on. Hold on, buddy.