Would That Make You Happy?

Frisk is your child, the result of a teen pregnancy, but they've always been told that you're their older sister. In an effort to get away from your own abusive mother, the two of you end up falling into the Underground, where Sans is startled by this abrupt change in what had become a predictable pattern of events. Maybe your presence is what is needed to stop the endless cycle of Resets.

After many struggles, both internal and external, you and your found family reach the surface, only to face even more difficulties from the society you weren't sure you'd ever see again. You meet new friends and encounter people from your past, though for good or ill, you're not sure. Sometimes it's difficult to tell kindness from cunning.

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182. The Twins

“Oh thank god,” are the first words out of Undyne’s mouth when she sees you (the door was unlocked, as usual, so you just let yourselves in). She’s sitting on the floor, still in her pajamas, her vibrant red hair pulled back into a bun to keep it away from the grasping fingers of the two babies both grabbing at the front of her shirt. “Babe, they’re here!”

Alphys is nowhere to be seen, but you hear her call back from the general direction of their bedroom. “Okay!”

“Hey squirt,” Undyne says, giving Frisk a toothy grin as they take a seat on the floor next to her, holding out their hands for one of the babies. She passes them her son, Varan. To you he looks like Alphys, more lizard-like, with blue and black scales. A small crest of ridges crowns his head, and behind it he has about an inch of dark, glossy black hair. He gives Frisk a big smile as his mom sets him in their lap, blinking up at them with big yellow eyes. Frisk smiles back, and Varan lets out a squeal of delight. “Careful of his mouth, he’s teething.”

“How are you holding up? Ready for school to start back up again?” you ask, laughing at the sudden look of desperation that spreads across her face.

“You have no idea. Classes full of kids are EASY compared to two babies,” she says in an undertone, glancing towards her bedroom. “Two weeks into summer vacation and she asked me if I wanted to put them back into daycare, but…”

“didn’t want to admit defeat?” Sans chimes in, an amused grin on his face.

Undyne scowls at him, but doesn’t say anything. Knowing her, you’re sure Sans hit the nail right on the head.

“It’s hard work,” you say, crossing the room and kneeling down on her other side. “Want me to take Lea so you can go get dressed?”

For just a second, a confused expression flits across her face as she glances down at herself. There’s a yellowish stain that could be baby poop or food, you’re not sure which, and there’s a dirty burp cloth poking out of her pocket. Dragging her hand down her face, she nods in weary defeat as you reach out to take her daughter from her lap. “Thank you, again, for coming over,” she says.

“You deserve a break,” you reassure her, hooking your hands under Lea’s arms and pulling her into your lap. Their daughter is more fish-like, like Undyne. She reminds you of a lionfish, her scales a soft yellow color with shockingly red stripes that frame her eyes and streak through the long and delicate frills on either side of her face and the top of her head. Chubby, webbed fingers clutch at the straps of your tank top and bra as she peers up at you with piercingly blue eyes. As you smile at her, her face scrunches up into what looks more like a grimace than a smile and she lets out a sudden, loud, growl that makes you jump. “What was that ?”

“NGAHHH!” Undyne roars, leaning in close to her daughter and baring her teeth. You can only sit and stare as Lea’s face breaks out into a huge smile and she lets out a shriek of delight that dissolves into giggles as she leans forward to pat her mother’s cheeks and kick her feet. After a second she latches onto the frills on either side of Undyne’s face and lets out another loud growl, which you realize is a mimicry of her mom’s outburst.

“Mamamamama,” Varan babbles, latching onto Frisk’s fingers and shaking them back and forth as he watches all of you curiously.

“Ow, OW, okay let go of mama’s fins,” Undyne says, wincing as Lea starts to pull. “Lea NO. Let go.”

You watch Lea’s little hands just grip tighter, and you help Undyne pry her fingers open. She leans away once she’s free and fixes her daughter with a frustrated look.

“She knows what ‘no’ means, but she just doesn’t listen,” she grumbles, pushing herself up to her feet.

“I can’t imagine where she gets that stubbornness from,” you say, arching a brow.

Barking out a laugh, that annoyance that was just on her face melts into a look of pride. “She takes after ME!”

“Aunt Undyne, can I get a drink?” Frisk asks, bouncing Varan on their knee as he clings to their hands.

“Sure, squirt! Knock yourself out,” she says, yanking the burp cloth out of her pocket and throwing it at the general direction of the couch. It falls short and lands in a pile on the floor as she heads off towards her room to get changed.

Sans walks over to take Varan from Frisk, then sits down next to you as they disappear into the kitchen. The babies catch sight of one another and start babbling. He’s surprisingly good with the kids, though maybe you should have expected it. He’d been a father to Frisk for half their life now, why wouldn’t he? But the ages of six to twelve aren’t anything like handling a baby.

“well if she’s taking after undyne,” he says, chuckling and reaching out with his free hand to smooth back the frill on the top of Lea’s head. She just blinks at him. “think this little guy’s gonna be like alphys? maybe one day he’ll be helping us at the core?”

You look at Varan, the way he’s quietly watching the both of you as you talk to one another. By contrast, Lea is trying to wiggle her way down to the floor. You let her go, and she crawls over to a set of stacking rings and starts pulling them all off. Her brother just observes, his hands circled around Sans’s knuckles. “Probably,” you agree with a smile.

“hopefully. the twins can’t both be like undyne.”

“They’re not twins,” Alphys says with the exasperated tone of someone who’s had to explain this distinction a hundred times (and she has). “They’re clutch mates, there’s a difference.”

“well, in humans, fraternal twins are two separate eggs fertilized at the same time—”

“We can argue technicalities all you want, Sans,” she says, shuffling into the room. She’s slipping her cell phone into the beach bag on her shoulder, straightening her pink sundress with her free hand. Under it you can see the straps of her bathing suit. Varan lets out a loud ‘ah!’ at the sight of her and she smiles. “Hey there sweetheart. But if you want to start comparing biology, then just look at the terminology used for fish and reptiles. For them to be considered twins, they would have to have been hatched from a single egg.”

“we’ve all been calling ‘em twins. s’easier,” he says with a lazy grin that elicits a frustrated sigh from Alphys.

“What about the twins?” Undyne says, reemerging from the bedroom. She’s changed into her swimsuit with a sarong tied around her waist.

Sans’s grin just gets that much bigger, and you can see the defeat in Alphys’s face. “Nothing, sweetie,” she says.

“Well we’ve got it from here,” you say, glancing towards the kitchen as Frisk returns with a can of citrus soda in their hand. You think it’s a little early for soda, but you don’t say anything. “If you two want to get going.”

Alphys and Undyne share a look, and there’s a short hesitation you don’t quite understand. “Well we’d hate to just r-run off right after you got here,” Alphys says, and once you hear that stutter in her voice you know something’s up. She hardly ever stutters anymore, not unless she’s nervous or upset. “Have you talked to Papyrus lately? The l-last time I talked to Mettaton was a couple weeks ago…”

If Sans notices her unusual behavior he doesn’t say so. He wiggles his fingers back and forth to keep Varan entertained as the little lizard leans forward to start gnawing on his phalanges. Sans winces, but doesn’t stop him. “last night. they’re doing good, think they’re wrapping up filming this week. he said their agent was trying to talk mettaton into some horror movie, but he told ‘em no. was pretty adamant about not doing any horror movies from the way pap told it.” He glances over at you, and you pick up on what he leaves unsaid.

Not that Undyne was ever very subtle. “Well good. After what happened down with the lab it would be pretty tasteless. And RUDE.”

Alphys clears her throat. “And impressions are still really important. Something like that wouldn’t go over very well…”

There’s a sharp knock on the door and Alphys lets out a soft ‘oh!’ as she and Undyne look at each other again.

“expecting somebody?” Sans asks, watching Alphys as she hurries over to pluck Varan from his lap. You hear the front door open.

But she just smiles at the two of you as you both start to stand, feeling more and more lost. “What’s going on?” you ask, attention darting between Undyne and her wife as they both look down the hall towards the front door.

Then, from around the corner, there’s that familiar smile and blonde hair and that dark tattoo covering his whole right arm and— “Deacon!” you blurt out, and you’re glad that you’re not sitting because you rush towards him and he braces himself to sweep you up in a huge hug. “Oh my god, when did you get home!”

He holds you tight, tight enough that you can feel his laugh rumble through his chest. “Late last night,” he says, grinning when you make an indignant noise. You try to pull away to glare at him but he won’t let you go. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“I spent a good half hour sulking this morning after I got that text from you. And you were just next door, you liar!” Since he won’t let you go you just hug him tighter. “I hate you, you’re the worst.”

“You love me,” he says, brushing a kiss against your temple.

“I do,” you admit. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, I’m sorry you couldn’t come with us,” he says, and finally relaxes his hold on you.

Easing away, you rest your hands on his shoulders, studying his face. A whole month he’d been gone, and while the long summer trips are normal for him and his wife, it doesn’t make them any easier. Deacon has laugh lines framing his mouth that deepen as he smiles at you, and the faintest hint of crow’s feet crinkle in the corners of his eyes. He’s aged handsomely, like a goddamned actor, and he barely looks thirty. Oh, he’s going to be unbearable to grow old with.

“You always hog her to yourself,” Bo interjects, and you feel a new pair of hands pull you into a warm embrace. “I’m sorry, honey, this whole thing was his idea. You should have heard him plotting with Alphys over the phone.”

“Alphys!” you exclaim, and you hear her laugh behind you. “I can’t believe you guys!”

“i can,” Sans says, and when you and Bo let each other go, you turn in time to see your husbands clapping each other on the back as they pull away from their brief hug. Sans grabs Deacon’s arm and jostles him a little as your friend laughs. “you jackass,” he says affectionately.

“At least I have an ass,” he answers, giving Sans a playful shove. “Unlike someone.”

Frisk has edged their way to the edge of your group, waiting patiently for a break in your little reunion. “Uncle Deacon,” they say warmly, catching his attention. He turns and pulls them into a hug, rubbing their back.

“Holy crap, kid, look at you! Hope, did they get taller while I was gone?” he demands, keeping one arm around their shoulders as he turns them both to face you.

You barely have time to nod before he gives Frisk a mock-annoyed shake.

“Come on, I told you you’re not allowed to grow when I’m not here,” he says, doing his best to scowl. “I need to see each and every inch you get taller than Sans.”

Frisk laughs and Sans rolls his eyes. “s’not that exciting. besides, at this rate they’re gonna get taller than you too.”

“No way, we made a deal,” Deacon says with a lopsided grin. He lets Frisk go. “Yes they can get taller than mom and dad, no they can’t get taller than Uncle Deacon. There was a handshake and everything.”

“Oh, well, if there was a handshake,” you say, rolling your eyes and chuckling.

“Okay, well you NERDS have fun,” Undyne says, loud enough to get everyone’s attention. “I’m sure the five of you can handle two babies. That’s like, two and a half people per baby.”

Bo is at Alphys’s side, resting Varan on her hip and stroking the hair on the back of his head. As Alphys and Undyne say goodbye to their children and pass along some basic instructions (time for their next nap, suggestions for lunch) Bo can’t take her eyes off the little boy in her arms. He tries to reach up for the pink wool of her hair, pulled back into a ponytail (she’s grown it long, lately), but she catches his hand gently and rubs her thumb over his tiny knuckles. She barely notices when the couple finally heads out the door, leaving all of you with the babies.

“They got so big, look at them,” Bo murmurs, swaying side to side in what you think is an unconscious movement. It’s a habit you picked up after Frisk was born, it wasn’t even something you tried to do. It just happened. “Oh, you cutie pie, you’re so precious. I can’t believe how different they look after just a month. They’re what, ten months now?”

She looks up at you, catching your eye until you nod in agreement. “Yep. Ten months next week,” you say, but her focus is right back on Varan where he’s starting to babble at her. Bo’s face lights up and you know it’s pointless to try and talk to her now.

Deacon, in comparison, looks uncomfortable. That reunion-high has worn off, and as he watches Bo sit down on the ground next to where Lea is playing, you can see his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallows. After a moment of this he clears his throat, pulling his attention away from her and turning to Sans. “We took a lot of great pictures, maybe later we could sit down and I can get you to print some for me?” Deacon asks.

Sans was distracted by watching the twins, and there’s a short pause before he turns to look at Deacon and his words process through his head. “huh? oh, yeah, sure! got some new additions for that stairwell?”

You catch Deacon wince just a little at the phrase ‘new additions’ but he presses on as if he hadn’t. “Yeah, exactly. You wouldn’t believe some of the weird stuff they’ve got along Route 66…”

Deacon glances over at you as he starts telling Sans about some of the strange roadside attractions he and Bo stopped at. You give him a crooked smile and he seems to relax a little, but you notice that though he tries to involve Bo in the conversation she keeps missing his cues. She’s just too wrapped up in the twins. Eventually he just stops trying.

Later, when you’re in the kitchen getting some bottles ready, Deacon slides up next to you and rests his forehead on your shoulder with a heavy sigh. You put your arm around him and pet the back of his hair.

“What’s wrong?” you ask him quietly. “You’ve seemed upset.”

“I’m fine,” he insists. “Just hoping that Bo gets her baby fix and goes back to normal after we leave.”

“Have you talked to her about not wanting kids?”

Deacon pulls away, and the look on his face is conflicted. He runs his fingers through his hair and glances at the bottle sitting on the counter. “It’s not… It’s not that simple.”

You blink. “You do want kids?”

He scowls and shakes his head. “Hell if I know. Hope, it’s… It’s a thing. It’s a huge thing, and I don’t… I don’t know if I want kids, but she does. She doesn’t bring it up, but I mean… You saw her in there with the twins.” Deacon lets out a ragged sigh. “It’ll be fine. We’re fine. We go on long trips and don’t have to worry about dealing with a kid, and we’re happy and get to sleep at night.”

“You need to talk to her,” you tell him, and in that regard you’re starting to feel like a broken record. He knows your advice when it comes to Bo will almost always be the same, but he comes to you anyway. “You guys need to be on the same page. You said she hasn’t brought it up?”

“Not lately.”

“What does ‘lately’ mean?”

“...Not since the last time we saw the babies,” he mumbles, hanging his head.

“Deacon…”

“I know, just let me…” Deacon sighs, and rests his forehead on your shoulder again. “Let me pout for a bit.”

You give a weak laugh, putting an arm around his waist. “Okay, you big dork.”

   
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