Summary: Stretch discovers Blue has kids.
A/N: Eh. Not entirely happy with this, but I suppose it will have to do.
Keys jingled together; Soon quieting before shifting to a deadbolt's loud click. The front door to the Underswap skeleton brothers' house opened inward, allowing a flurry of snowflakes to sneak inside. Quickly shuffling in alongside them was the lanky, orange hoodie-clad monster many knew as the youngest brother of the resident skeleton duo, Papyrus. Or Stretch, according to the Multiverse's many other Papyri.
A loud yawn escaped him while he hastily closed and locked the door behind himself, barring the Snowdin chill from snuffing the home's inner warmth. Then he kicked off his sneakers next to the doormat in a careless fashion that would no doubt make his classic counterpart faint in horror. And earn him his brother's patented "I'm not angry, just disappointed" expression. Something he had grown somewhat immune to, but only somewhat. Those looks were still highly effective when Blue wanted them to be. So Stretch tidied his shoes, placing them beside a worn pair of azure combat boots.
Usually, he may risk his brother's wrath by leaving them scattered about. Today, however, the lazy-ish skeleton thought better of it. The day had been bad enough with Muffet's being closed, forgetting to eat lunch, getting too distracted via puzzles (No matter what any Sans said, he and his fellow Papyri would solve the horoscope one day!), and having to walk home through the snow. (Because no food meant lacking magic for teleportation.) The last thing he needed was to be on the receiving end of Blue's disappointment on top of all that.
Though, I'd hardly be surprised if Blue found a reason to be disappointed in me despite my efforts. His mind helpfully added, It's just one of those days.
With a sigh, Stretch tilted his skull in the kitchen's direction. Light clinks from metal meeting metal followed by the consistent sound of oil sizzling echoed beyond the kitchen doorway. The mouth-watering scent of cooking taco meat and various other equally heavenly smells filled the air. Thus, prompting a few rumbly pleas to spawn from his nonexistent stomach.
Promises of food - and good food at that - proved more than sufficient to lure him toward the room. His feet were carrying him into the kitchen before the thought to do just that formed.
The orange hoodie-clad skeleton slowed to a halt past the entrance, taking in the scene. Blue stood in front of the stove, fully engrossed in pan-frying taco meat. A white apron shielded his cyan polo shirt and grey dress pants from stray grease splatters.
Unusual considering his brother ordinarily wore more casual clothing after work, and yet it didn't seem to be the strangest thing visible in the space.
Curious eye sockets blinked at the table and counters. A literal feast laid across the stone/wooden surfaces: a glass baking dish containing freshly baked mac and cheese, various-sized bowls holding prepared taco ingredients (shredded cheese, lettuce, diced vegetables [tomatoes, onions], and sour cream), a plate of hollow taco shells, refried beans, white rice, an absolutely wondrous-looking apple pie, and milkshakes.
Milkshakes.
Blue only made those on very, very special occasions like birthdays or big holidays. Any other day of the year, Stretch practically had to beg incessantly to get his brother to consider making the frosty ice cream delights, which made their appearance all the more baffling.
He raised an invisible eyebrow. "Woah. Big plans this evening?"
His brother jolted and spun on his heels (possibly preparing to hurl his spatula at Stretch) but smiled once he realized who snuck up on him. In a cheery tone, Blue answered, "Why, yes! If you bothered to look at the calendar this morning, you would know it is Father's Day. I hope you don't mind that I decided to invite my magnificent children over for dinner."
That sentence caught the lazy-ish Papyrus off guard, causing him to pause a moment to mull over the words. Eye sockets widening in disbelief when they fully processed.
"Wha- wait, children? Bro, when did you-" He sputtered, only to be cut off by the sudden ring of the doorbell.
"Oh, that must be them!" The older skeleton practically squealed in delight, placing down his cooking utensil, turning off the stovetop, and rushing out the room.
"Already?!" Stretch cried, giving chase. He followed Blue all the way to the living room, where he managed to catch his shoulder with a hand. A hand that got quickly brushed away, not disrupting his brother's movement in the slightest. In a last-ditch effort, he pleaded in a trembling voice, "Sans, stop! I'm not prepared to be an uncle, let alone a cool one."
Alas, the action was in vain.
Blue had already reached the front door and unlocked it, throwing it wide open to reveal the two least likely skeletons. Ones the orange hoodie-clad Papyrus never expected to be standing on the other side.
Each bore a striking resemblance to his brother, bearing a similar body type and stature- and that was about it before features began to differ considerably. The one located on the left appeared to be covered head-to-toe in a black, viscous goo with odd tendrils protruding from their back. They had their arms crossed in disdain and a seemingly permanent frown. Not to mention an eerie cyan eyelight that meticulously scanned the area, sucking the joy out of any soul (aside from his brother's) that it landed on.
Beside the dark being stood a plainer-looking monster whose yellow eyelights sparkled like little stars. A soft (possibly nervous) smile graced their jaws, and their bones shone a golden-ish tint in the Underground's natural lighting.
One would have to be a fool to fail to recognize them, two of the most powerful guardians in the Multiverse: Nightmare and Dream.
Stretch's brows knit while a light frown tugged at the corners of his teeth.
Are they here to drop off the kids, or...
Invisible eyelights peeked over their shoulders, hoping to catch a glimpse of tiny skeletons playing in the snow.
His "dreams" - no pun intended - came crashing down as his brother cheerily greeted the pair. "Nightmare, Dream, welcome to my humble abode! Also, hello!"
"Hey, Blue." Dream murmured, giving an awkward wave.
Meanwhile, Nightmare scowled further and allowed his tendrils to spike in annoyance. A menacing growl exited his jaws. "Hello, father."
Stretch promptly choked on air after hearing those words- or, more specifically, the term "father." From Nightmare. Who directed it at Blue, who seemed to beam despite the word sounding distinctly spiteful.
The three Sanses (Sansi, Sans, whatever the plural of Sans might be) turned to face him. Blue and Dream looked him over in concern, and Nightmare held the kind of expression that screamed, "I sincerely hope you are suffocating," which was a little troubling to behold. Sadly, the lazy-ish Papyrus had a tougher time behold his new knowledge.
He glances between them, struggling to keep his lower jaw from falling to the floor. Eye sockets eventually stopping on the bluer in the bunch. "How are they your children?!"
His brother donned a deadpan expression. "When two monsters love each other very much, they-"
"No, no, no, no- I do not need to hear about that part! What I want to know is how-" Stretch gestured toward the duo, leading the dark guardian's glower to return and the lighter to shift awkwardly in place. "are these two full-grown skeletons, who happened to have a tree as their mother, your children?"
"That is something I debate on a daily basis." Nightmare scoffed.
Blue shot him a reassuring look, replying, "The details are fuzzy- But, while I don't recall being intimate with a magical tree, that doesn't make them any less my sons."
That doesn't answer my question, he internally screamed.
Was Blue avoiding the topic, or did he genuinely not know or understand how the situation came to be? If not either of those, then what? Maybe Nightmare and Dream got adopted? That seemed like something his brother might do; adopt strange, powerful beings and invite them over to watch movies or eat dinner.
Before he could ponder further, Blue drew his attention by clapping his hands together and declaring, "Enough chit-chat, though! Come in; it's freezing outside, and I won't have my sons catching a cold."
As the duo walked inside, their supposed father said to the Guardian of Negativity, "Next time, you should invite my grandchildren to join us!"
"Grandchildren?!" Stretch wheezed.
"Of course. Nightmare is a proud father of four-" Blue started, only to be interrupted by a quick, flustered protest from Nightmare shouting, "No, I'm not!" Before seamlessly continuing with pride and joy lacing his features. "And I'm fairly certain Dream has his own little bundle of happiness on the way!"
The Guardian of Positivity blushed at the comment, choosing not to elaborate beyond, "You should visit the Doodlesphere sometime and help me and Ink choose a name. It would be nice to have someone to help me talk him out of naming the baby 'Paint Thinner'."
A wide grin spread over the addressed skeleton's face.
"Of course. I would love to. Now, let's get you two settled in for dinner! I made sure to make plenty for both of you so you can take some home; With how you're both always working so hard, I doubt you have the time to enjoy a proper homecooked meal." His brother turned to him, gently speaking, "Join us in the kitchen when you are ready but don't take too long. Nightmare and Dream might devour the apple pie before you have a chance to taste a single crumb!"
Stretch could only stare in shock while Blue soon ushered his children into the kitchen. After a few seconds, he slowly made the few steps it took to reach the couch and sat with a flop, letting his bones sag against the plush surface.
Children and grandchildren, his hands rose to rest flat across his face. Oh, stars, am I really that old? Where did all the time go? What have I been doing with my life?
The appendages gradually dragged downward, uncovering the upper half of his skull.
Welp, I guess I need to add existential crisis on my list of everything that has gone wrong today.