All Fine Labs, July 8. 1614H

At least I'm not leaving empty handed. To think that this picnic basket would turn out to be this useful. It's just enough to fit what I wanted to take home.

Only Sans, Papyrus, and Connor were part of the sendoff team. Palatino left with his daughter, whereas Frisk busied themselves with their other two siblings. Doctor Aster was… somewhere. Doing his Aster things.

And, the rest of the Ebott Crew might as well be strangers. They need not come.

At the lobby, Papyrus - beaming with pride - declared: "WELL MY ILLUSTRIOUS NOT-VAMPIRE GUEST, MY BROTHER AND I THOUGHT TO GET A FITTING FAREWELL GIFT FOR YOU! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

"Happy Birthday to your wife too," said Sans.

It was a cake box. Receiving it, Mezil smelled the scent of lemon and…

"Thyme?" he muttered.

"YES INDEED! WHAT BETTER DESSERT DESCRIBES YOU THAN A SPICED LEMON THYME CAKE? IT'S A MIX OF SWEET AND SOUR WITH A COPIOUS AMOUNT OF SPICES. AND IT HAS THYME, JUST LIKE YOUR NAME!"

Mezil smiled, his heart warmed by their efforts. "Your gift is greatly appreciated."

He rearranged the contents of the picnic basket to fit the cake.

"In exchange, let me give you this." He passed a parcel to the skeleton brothers. "I think you would find its contents to be of great interest."

In return for the Lab's dimensional services, Doctor Gaster had promised Doctor Aster a hundred years worth of history. A reasonable agreement for once, Mezil thought.

Opening the package revealed a data stick and a thick black folder: the documents needed to wrap up any remaining loose ends. They took it over to the nearest multidimensional-approved-computer to check.

Now the burning question: did the datastick survive the journey? Could the machines of 2020 even read a device many, many versions beyond its current iteration?

Sans plugged the stick into the port. To everyone's relief, it worked. The files could be read without any issues.

"All clear here," he said. "I'll pass this over to Dad for further analysis. Wow. A land bridge to faux-Britain? That's gonna influence a lot of history."

Mezil commented, "The land border had been a contentious issue for thousands of years. We didn't resolve that until the 20th century."

"WHAT'S WITH THE OMINOUS BLACK FILE THOUGH?" asked Papyrus. "HMMM… IT'S SEALED WITH A WAX SEAL. AN ACE OF SPADES?"

"That is the symbol of House Berendin: my wife's true family in my world."

Mezil stared at it with a heavy heart. He didn't want to let them know anything about that cursed war… yet the other Papyrus had spoken his warning. That young man's futuresight must not be doubted.

He handed the folder to this world's Papyrus. "This is a copy of some of the Magus Association's top secret files. It contains the profiles of our worst criminals. Heretics. Psychopaths. Warlords. What have you. If my counterpart exists, there's a chance that my various nemeses will be in this world as well. They may or may not become a threat: it all depends on opportunities and circumstance."

"This file also contains details about the worst calamity to befall monsterkind. I pray that the mechanisms do not align to repeat this tragedy. But, if it does, I hope your people will succeed where I had failed."

"Papyrus, your town has 25 years to prepare. I'm counting on you to decide who to share this knowledge with."

With that kind of pressure, it's understandable that the youngster felt nervous. "GEE. THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS HONOURED? I-I'LL DO MY BEST."

"Thank you."

I hope I'm not putting too much of a burden on him. I know the Papyrus in my world could do it. Not so sure about this one.

Mezil turned back to the young human father. Connor represented the whole Winston family. Emelline was too young to understand, and Magdalene still required close monitoring.

Smiling, Connor said: "Take care, son. Send my regards to your wife."

"Take care, Dad." The son nodded. "Likewise, send my regards to Mom and Emmeline. You better stay away from alcohol like the plague."

"Man, you'll never let that go huh?"

Connor spread his arms wide. "Mind giving daddy a hug, my cool son?"

A silly and borderline embarrassing proposal. But… this opportunity will likely never come again.

So, he accepted the offer. The two hugged each other for their first and final time.

This warmth… I had forgotten about it until now.

It may be a memory too painful to keep.

The hug concluded all the remaining businesses in Ebott's Wake.

One of the scientists called for his name, marking the moment to return home. Mezil left the trio while he still had control over his emotions.

The way back went smoother than expected. He had to brace some black winds of the Void here and there, but it was much less traumatic than being tossed unconscious unto a bed of flowers.

At the end of the tunnel - across time zones and dimensions - stood the image of his home. It's his bedroom. Lucidia appeared to have tucked herself in mere moments ago. Not surprising, as it would be past midnight over there.

Mezil stepped out of the portal as he would with a simple doorway. Seconds later, the way back destabilized and closed in a blink.

"Mezzy?" The wife muttered in disbelief. "Is that really you?"

"I'm home at last, Lucy dearest." The husband answered.

He walked over to the bed and placed the picnic basket on the floor.

Then, he plopped straight onto his bed: spent of his stamina and lacking any reason to maintain a front.

At long, long last… he could relax.

Berendin Manor, July 9. 0530H

It was almost dawn by the time Mezil woke up. The wife thought the best way to commemorate his return was to celebrate their belated birthdays in the garden.

So that was what they did. At the Berendin Manor's front garden - high up in the sky - the couple settled at a bench to have their first meal of the day.

It's a selection of sausages, bacon, mushrooms, potatoes, and tomatoes: all fried on a griddle.

Mezil was quite impressed by what he saw. "Where did you get these? I don't think you had the time to make it, as you were lying beside me when I woke up."

Lucidia giggled. "I won't pass up that opportunity. It's not often that we get to share the bed together. Not even a hunting camp could get you to completely synchronize with the sun."

"That's true. Shift work does have its drawbacks."

"About our breakfast," said Lucidia. "I had arranged an order from the 24-7 diner: the one you sometimes go to after a long night's mission with the police."

"Oh, that place. Good food there. Just letting you know first: it's much better when it's piping hot."

"If that's the case, we should begin. It's not too long after they were delivered."

Although the food had cooled more than he'd like, it was still scrumptious. There's always a calming atmosphere to dine under good weather. A band of blue, red, and yellow stretched across the sky's horizon, peppered with sparse clouds.

Between the bites, the following conversation happened:

Lucidia asked, "How was your time there? I hope it's not too troublesome."

Mezil answered, "It was surprisingly good. I was annoyed at first, especially when I was thrown on a bed of flowers in late morning. But the town was very welcoming. Zany, but welcoming."

"Oh? It almost sounds like 'that man' had set you up for a forced vacation instead."

"Well, pictures say a thousand words. I recorded the trip as much as I could. Have you examined the databanks yet?"

"Not yet. However, I did find your…" Her lips curled in a funny way, attempting to resist a laugh. "Flavourful commentary."

Mezil raised a brow. "I wrote my honest feelings especially for you."

Unable to hold it anymore, she burst into a giggle. "Oh my goodness, Mezzy. Your comments are always so entertaining to read. Such copious amounts of salted curry spice on everything and anything! And nothing induced more of that seasoning than the bewildered theories about your vampirism!"

He let out a big groan. "My parents actually thought I was William Winston himself!"

"The viewers of Mettaton's livestream had the same idea."

That. Livestream. Every troll and gremlin jumped on the silly silliness. One even granted Mezil the label of a mock pharmaceutical product.

'Mezyl' is not the right way to spell his name!

"…You put me in the spotlight by entertaining my great-grandfather's photo! Now everyone in this universe will think I'm a real vampire too."

With the most mischievous of smiles, Lucidia said: "They already do, honey. They already do."

Mezil couldn't deny that. He did earn that reputation long before he appeared on the internet…

Not wanting to proverbially dig his own grave and nail his own coffin, he decided to change the subject. "Speaking of spice, do we want to try the cake yet? The other world's Sans and Papyrus bought it for us. They wished you a happy birthday too."

"Aww, that's so nice of them." Lucidia turned towards the citrus dessert. "Just a tiny bit first. It smells quite sweet, though it may be tempered by the lemon."

Awkward moment, averted. It's time to salvage the situation by making it as romantic as possible.

The husband extended his hand to his wife, accompanied by a charming little song.

"Happy birthday to you~" he sang.

Oh, the wife knew what he planned. It's something they had done for the past 25 years of their marriage..

As she accepted his gesture, she added the next verse. "Happy birthday to you~"

Together as a duet they sang: "Happy birthday to each other~ Happy birthday to you."

Husband and wife gazed in the eyes of their partner, filled with fondness.

"I love you, Lucy dearest."
"I love you too, Mezzy."

By now, the sun peeked across the horizon of the cityscape. Its brilliant rays blessed the world with its shine once more, marking the beginning of a new day.

It's definitely good to be home again.