The 6th of July may be the most mundane day of this misadventure. Mezil Thyme did not bother with sightseeing anymore. He wasn't in the mood for it. Instead, he ended up with the following quiet day:

Breakfast.
Did some stretches and pushups to wake up.
Checked in for mail at Alphys' Lab. They had turbulence in the rifts. Slow mail, expected. Direct calls, impossible.

Lunch.
Headed to the local shooting gallery to sharpen his aim.
Complained about the bloody summer heat.
Hid in Dank Memehaus for shade and internet access.

Dinner.
Ran a good jog in the fresh country air. No one batted an eye to the magical inkwork etched into his skin. Here, he was just another jogger. The privilege of having anonymity: something he had long lost in his original realm.

Supper.
Checked for mail at Alphys' Lab again.
Nothing.
Went to bed with anxiety.

Now, it's the 7th of July. Noon. Mezil was dressed in his usual 'vampire-esque' uniform, ready to get going at a moment's notice.

It's been more than twenty-four hours.

Is everything alright back home? Frisk and Team Ebott should be able to handle my unintended absence. Hopefully. Be damned if Gaster ruined the peace.

…I'm more worried about my mother. The one from this world.

I can't help but feel that I'm forgetting something important.

He sat down beside the window, gazing out into Ebott Wake's scenery. It was a beautiful, beautiful place: a town where nature and civilization still coexisted.

Mezil did not have the fortune to grow up in such a place. What he remembered of his home was the colour of man-made buildings, the smells of wayward trash, and the sounds of traffic. Nature only concentrated in parks.

To think that his alternate self would live in such freshness… That's good, provided the sky doesn't open up and rain down all sorts of netherworldly creatures.

…Perhaps I should go to the Lab again.

Someone then knocked on the door. Mezil's first instinct was to expect an armed intruder, but he soon remembered that he's in a different realm. Old time-looped instincts die hard.

The visitor - this world's Sans - carried a parcel with a bright red 'URGENT' message stamped on the cover.

Sans said, "I dunno what's up, but I think this is serious business. There's writing all over the package."

It's in Lucidia's handwriting, insisting that the contents should be delivered on the 6th itself. She did not trust the mail staff to take the stamp seriously. It's never good if she was this paranoid.

When Mezil accepted the parcel, one underlined sentence made his heart sink with dread.

It read: 'Estimated Time of Death.'

While watching the noon news, Connor wondered where Mister Vampire went. He was supposed to get some data about Maggies' pregnancy… but he didn't return.

…I wonder what his job is? Does his wife work in the data field? The Facebook of 2070?

No way! He ain't a Zuckerberg, that's for sure!

Come to think of it… I should have exchanged phone numbers. Now I can't even tell him that the midwife is going to be a little late today. That skeleton just welcomed his firstborn daughter this morning.

The young father smiled at the thought. It brought him back to the day when he first received little Emelline in his arms. How his heart swelled with joy.

Maggie groaned as he walked towards the couch. She looked more exhausted than usual.

Connor asked, "Honey? You okay?"

"No," she muttered. "I felt some cramps this morning, but my water hasn't broken yet. I think the baby is arriving soon…"

"Do you want to lie down?"

"Mhmm," she nodded. "Sounds like a good idea."

The husband helped his wife get comfortable. "What do you want for lunch?"

Maggie grumbled. "I don't want to eat. Nauseous…"

"How about some water?"
"Sure. With some honey."
"Honey for my honey, coming right up!"

Connor went back into the kitchen to make the requested drink.

Maggie seems more tired than usual. Is that normal? Maybe I should call the midwife…

In the midst of his pondering, the doorbell rang. Incessantly. Someone kept pressing the button and refused to stop until it's answered.

It stopped. Not long after, little Emelline ran for her father.

"Daddy!" she said, "It's the fancy vampire! I thought they're scared of the sun?"

Mezil was finally here. Connor left the cup of honey water on the counter to greet his visitor.

"Hi?"

In the sternest alarm, the 'vampire' asked: "Where's the madam?"

"Maggie? She's sleeping on the couch."
"She's not sleeping."
"Huh?"

Mezil wasted no time. He slipped past Connor and forced himself into the house, making a beeline to Maggie's side.

"W-what in the-" Though he knew it's irrational, Connor wanted to punch Mezil for the rude entry into his house.

But Sans the skeleton stopped him. "My bro is on the way. He'll get you to the hospital faster than an ambulance."

"H-hospital?! Why?"

Sans did not answer. Instead, he said: "Pass the message to the old man for me."

Confused and frightened, Connor rushed to his wife's side. He found the elder trying to wake his wife.

"Madam Winston!" he said, "Madam Winston, can you hear me? Wake up!"

Opening her eyes, Maggie muttered: "Honey, the lights… turn them on…" She went limp at the end of her slurred, delirious complaint.

"Madam Winston!"

"Mommy!" The little girl tried to shake her mother, realising that something went horribly wrong.

Turning to the stunned Connor, Mezil yelled: "Did you call the ambulance yet?"

"P-Papyrus is on the way."

The other relaxed his face. It's just a tiny bit, but it's noticeable. "That's a fine alternative."

Connor knelt down beside the couch. "Maggie? Maggie answer me! What's wrong? Maggie!"

"Acute high blood pressure," Mezil said, "It's developing into preeclampsia. She went blind before she fainted."

The word 'preeclampsia' struck terror into Connor's heart. He heard about that complication during his parenting course, but he never thought his wife would be affected. She was nowhere near the high-risk groups.

Yet, it still happened.

Connor blurted, "Are you a doctor? Or your wife maybe?"

"I'll explain later. We need to get her to the hospital ASAP."

Car tires screeched outside. The town's famous local blogger had arrived. They weren't kidding about the speed.

Mezil's arms lit up with magic. The streamlined, angular lines reminded Connor of electronic circuitry.

"I'll carry Madam Winston to the car," said the vampiric magician. "You bring Emmy along."

That's right. Connor can't leave his toddler home alone. So the father picked up his daughter, despite his still sore and tired arms from the silly race.

So the whole family boarded the cool skeleton's car and zoomed straight to Rita Belle Thurman Memorial.

Though Maggie had yet to wake up, she's in stable condition. The worst had passed.

Connor and Mezil sat down in the hospital cafeteria. They both stared into the dark depths of their cup of coffee.

Papyrus kept Emelline occupied with impromptu toys made out of paper cups. As for Sans, he watched from the sidelines.

After what seemed to be an eternity, Mezil showed Connor a report.

"I'm sorry," said Mezil. "The report arrived late due to technical difficulties."

"In my world. Magdalene Winston would be working in the museum. An observant colleague noticed something was wrong and called for help. It was a close call, considering the disadvantages of distance and technology. I'm surprised she survived at all."

"In this world, she was home. Since she didn't show much outward signs, it was easy to think that it was just fatigue. I don't think she's aware of it either."

Connor's head sank, dejected and guilt-ridden. "I should have noticed it sooner… she complained about labour pains and nausea…"

"Those are too common to be taken as clear signs. Please, don't blame yourself. It was an accident."

An accident?... Conner couldn't help but wonder. Was there truly no one to blame?

"Hey," said Connor. "If… if you're such a close friend to my family… why didn't you remember this? You didn't need to ask your wife if you already knew Maggie was going to end up this way!"

"Are you trying to kill them? Drain their blood?! Steal their souls?! I shouldn't have invited you into my life!"

It was an irrational conclusion. Connor knew it, yet he lashed out those thoughtless words in his turbulence.

Mezil Thyme, the mysterious vampire, remained as stoic as ever. It's tempting to splash hot coffee on THAT face. After all, if he was indeed a mythical creature in the flesh, he would regenerate just fine.

But that was just a fantasy. He didn't want to raise a ruckus in public, more so in front of his daughter.

"Connor Winston," so said Mezil, "No one remembers the day of their birth. The same goes for me."

"Duh! I know that too!"

Without saying anything else, the vampire left the table with the coffee still in hand.

"Come back here!" Connor now regretted not acting on his anger.

Sans stepped in. "Whoah, hold it right there. He's not like what you think."

"Are you gonna defend him?" the human huffed.

"Nope. But if you're willing to lend an ear, I'll let you in on a little secret about that fancy guy. Wanna listen?"

A juicy tidbit about the vampire? Maybe Sans knew his one true weakness? If Connor wanted to plant a stake into an immortal creature's heart, he better gather all the secrets.

So the human leaned forward. "Okay, I'm listening."

The skeleton whispered the following words straight into his ear: "Mezil Thyme is Mezil Winston, your son from an alternate future."

For a few seconds, Connor's brain cells zapped at twice the usual rate. They tried so hard to process what he had just heard.

Dumbfounded, the human muttered: "Wait. Did you say... From where? Excuse me?"

"Think about it," said Sans. "Nobody remembers the day they're born. He knows about this twist as much as you do: which is zilch. So, lay off the accusations a bit. Ok?"

Connor dropped back on the cafeteria seat. Stuck between two fantastical premises, he didn't know what he ought to think anymore.

"Welp. I'm gonna let you contemplate. I'll be with Papyrus if you need anything."

Away from his father, Mezil vented his frustration with a discreet punch against the wall. It was just enough force to punish his shortcomings without catching too much attention.

Of all the times, of all the things, he had to overlook the most urgent danger to his mother's life. She needed this knowledge the most. And yet… he was almost too late.

How? He wondered. How could he have forgotten what happened on that day? How could he have forgotten... the meaning of his name?

Recent events stirred those memories so vividly...

A long, long time ago, there was a dying mother. She lived her remaining days in a hospice.

Her son stayed by her side. Except he did not do so out of filial piety. The mother had long become a stranger for the son. Their relationship had become one of mere titles.

At least, that's how the son felt.

Why then did the son take the whole week off? He told himself that it's to tie loose ends. Yet deep down, his inner child had a simpler reason: to be with Mom for a little while longer.

"Will your wife come to visit?"

Later, said the son. When the time is right.

"I still can't believe you're married. You never invited me to your wedding…"

It's complicated.

"And what's with your tattoos? You think I didn't notice that? Pull back your sleeves, right this instant! Since when did you become a delinquent?"

The son didn't want to start a fight, he caved into his mother's orders.

"That's… very techno-wizardy. Cyberpunk, I think. Is this compulsory for your job?"

Yes, the son replied. To some extent. A Magus will have the choice of depending on enchanted tools, or have supportive spells installed straight into their being. He chose the latter.

Tools can be lost or taken away. It's not as secure as a body installment.

"I see. That can't be helped, then. You're always the hardcore type too."

"Say… Your wife is not a human, isn't she?"

He tightened his shoulders.

"I'm a historian first and foremost, young man! I'm not as scatterbrained as your father either."

"No one has ever seen a member of House Berendin without a mask. And who wears masks? The Sages! Rumours say that they went all-out to hide their true monstrous form."

The mother sighed.

"My only capable son has a cross-species kink. I don't know if I should be curious or furious."

The son told her to not let the daughter-in-law hear that. Disapproval was the last memory she needed, more so on such short notice.

"Sorry. I can't imagine that her people unanimously accepted it either."

"…Mezzy. Since you're in The Magus Association, you must know about the original Lord Berendin. Right?"

Correct.

"Did you know why I chose his name for your own?"

No, replied the son.

"Well. There are many myths speculating about his mysterious return. I don't know which is the truth, but they all have one thing in common: he should have been looooooong dead. We're talking years, honey."

"Yet, he came back to life! Sort of. Being seriously injured and suddenly vanishing is about as close to a 'true' death it gets."

"I had a sudden complication right before you arrived. If my colleagues didn't help, we wouldn't be here today. So… that's why I thought Lord Berendin's name fits. We both had such a close brush with death."

Why didn't she name him after the Redeemer, then?

"That would be TOO obvious! You would get bullied to no end! I wouldn't be able to live it down naming my kid after an actual deity. Besides, I wanted to maintain the theme. Known local nobles only!"

The son thanked her for the consideration.

"Finally, some actual respect~"

"…"

"You know… One moment, I was holding you in my arms. And the next, you're an adult. Waiting for the final goodbye. If I had a second chance, I would choose the way of a housewife. Watch the three of you grow up day after day."

"Mezzy, will you forgive this failed mother?"

The son wrestled with his emotions. It would be a lie to say that he didn't have mixed feelings. On one hand, their poor life choices caused much stress. On the other hand, it was all in the past.

He told her to wait for a moment.

"Okay?..."

The mother, puzzled by the change of topics, waited patiently nonetheless.

First, he closed the curtains. Then, he told the bodyguards stationed outside to not let anyone inside. Nurses and doctors included. No one may pass without his explicit permission.

And just to make sure no one could barge in, he discreetly planted a Mark on the door's locking mechanisms. Commanded them to stay stuck. Not even the right key will work on them at the moment.

"W-what are you doing?"

He didn't reply. There was no need to do so. She will get her answer soon enough.

Towards a seemingly empty corner, he reached out his hand. It's fine, he said. There's no need to hide.

Out from the veils of invisibility… the dear wife emerged. She released the hand of her invisible bodyguard and took the husband's.

The expression on dear mother's face was priceless.

"Am I dreaming?"

No, said the son. And didn't dear mother want to meet her daughter-in-law? Here she is.

Mezil had never seen his mother so excited before. Maybe he did once, but he was too young to remember it. The marks of toil and sickness seemed to have instantly vanished when she welcomed Lucidia.

"So you're my son's mysterious wife! Mhmm, mhmm. That's a well-crafted mask. Definitely a House Berendin trait."

The wife looked at her husband, unsure. He told her not to worry. She can take off her mask; it's only polite for her mother-in-law to see her true face.

Though still nervous, Lucidia removed her mask before Magdalene.

"Oh my god, you're soooooooo beautiful! Adorable, even. Like a sugar skull. Come, come. Sit down next to me."

The son let them talk in their own space. At first, he observed for any signs of distress. But as time went on…. he found himself caught up in their conversations. The meeting between the two in-laws went well. It was the complete opposite of his introduction to Lucidia's biological mother.

Out of the blue Lucidia expressed her desire to save her mother-in-law. The abrupt declaration snapped the son out of his daze. It startled the mother too.

Lucidia oh Lucidia, always so poised until her heart couldn't take it anymore.

The mother tried to soothe her daughter-in-law.

"Dear, you can't do anything. I know… I know people with a drinking history are barred from the liver transplant list."

That didn't deter Lucidia from trying. Grow a new one based on the recipient's cells, she insisted. Try other methods. Advanced Magitek would also be an option, moreso now that her son is the Supreme Judge of the Magus Association.

Lucidia just didn't want her mother-in-law to die just when her son had forgiven her.

"…Ooooooooh! Now I understand. That's such a roundabout way to do things. Tsk, tsk, tsk. Are you really that shy around your own mother, Mezzy?"

Yes. Yes, he was that shy. It's extra awkward because she is his mother.

It's… personal.

The mother embraced her son with a warm, big hug. Her voice cracked from the tears.

"My dear son… thank you so, so much."

He hugged back.

Truth be told, the son doesn't know if they had enough time for advanced treatment. An organ transplant was the only fast way to get her out of danger. To make matters worse, his own application as a donor came back negative.

However, those are problems for the future. His mother was happy at present. He thought it's best that he let her enjoy this moment in bliss…