Frisk fluttered their eyelids drowsily and woke on a bed in a darkened room. Their head ached with dull pain. A migraine? While staring at the dingy ceiling overhead, nostalgia filled Frisk, though the bed that supported them was altogether too short and cramped their bent legs. Then, they heard a pair of even breaths, one on each side, and glanced down. Verdana snoozed with his rump in the air while Vivaldi held a stuffed bear in the crook of her elbow. On instinct, the twins snuggled closer to them on the bed, but kept sleeping. Their children were safe. If they were in the spare bedroom of Toriel's house….
In the hushed stillness, the day's exhausting events made the twins sleep as deeply as their father always did, but fear wrenched Frisk's soul and swelled their throat, reminding them of how far they were from home. Frisk longed for Sans, for his voice and touch, but believed they would make it back to his arms. Their children would return to their father, no matter what. Shrugging off their doubts with their blankets, the human slipped out of bed and tiptoed down the hall.
As expected, Toriel sat by her magical fire and curled up with a book, 72 Uses for Snails. Circles darkened the space beneath her eyes, just visible behind her reading glasses, but she said nothing.
"Thank you again for healing me and my children," Frisk said, dipping their head into a slight, respectful bow. A warm cinnamon scent wafted through the living room. "Sorry for causing you trouble."
"No trouble, dear," Toriel said, her forehead knit with concern. "Please sit."
Ever the obedient child with any Toriel, Frisk nodded and brought over a chair from the dining table. Since three chairs waited there, Frisk wondered about this dimension's Asgore, but already knew what had become of Asriel.
"The emblem on your vest," said Toriel with a pause, catching sight of Frisk's back, "is the Delta Rune. The symbol of the monster kingdom."
Since Frisk had trailed behind while traversing the Ruins, they figured Toriel had not noticed that aspect of their clothing before. Turning around, Frisk sat in their chair and nodded again.
Brushing her tunic's Delta Rune with her furry fingertips, Toriel leveled a hard stare at the human. "Where did you receive it?"
"Up. The surface." Quirking a sad smile, Frisk pointed to the ceiling. "But in another world. Our barrier's broken, and monsters and humans live in peace. There, I—I'm your child."
"My child?" Toriel's eyes misted, but she shook her head and blinked the tears away. "You fell down?"
"Into my Underground, yes," Frisk said. They shuddered. Back then, damp air had blown thin coats of monster dust all over the Ruins. How many times had Toriel mutilated them in a copy of this very room? Death after death, buttercup after buttercup, with nothing but Flowey worrying for them and an inner voice urging them to 'Stay determined.' They gulped and strained to suppress those horrible memories. "But it was filled with LOVE."
"I understand. I will press no further," Toriel said. She stood, walked into the kitchen, and emerged with a large tray that held a steaming teapot and cups. Setting these down on the table, she said, "There is something else I noticed. You are certainly human, but…."
"My children." Frisk smiled. Just like her mother to be sensitive about a topic most humans and monsters were downright rude and opinionated about. "I married a monster. We had twins."
"I sensed magic in them from the first, but earlier, when they came running to me in tears, they glowed red and your little Verdana was a skeleton," Toriel said, blinking her wide eyes but recovering enough to pour the tea. "I had no idea such a thing was possible."
"The other you was amazed, too. We all were," Frisk said, rising to offer help which Toriel gently waved away.
"I hope the other me handled it gracefully. And took up educating the children." Toriel handed Frisk a full teacup and saucer. "This may come as a surprise to you, but I have always wanted to be a teacher. Actually, perhaps that isn't very surprising. Still."
Frisk laughed and accepted the cup. Earthy, herbal scents tickled their nose.
"That reminds me of a joke I learned the other day," Toriel said as they settled back into their seats. "Why did the skeleton need a sweater?" When Frisk shook their head, Toriel answered, "Because he was chilled to the bone!"
They laughed freely together, deciding without words that they both needed time to relax and be normal. Just for awhile.
The next morning, dark as always in the Underground, Vivaldi and Verdana tore into Toriel's butterscotch-cinnamon pie with delight. It brightened their cheeks until they were rosy with health. As soon as the adults told the children that Toriel understood they were hybrids, Verdana eagerly turned himself skeletal. He liked doing that more than Vivaldi, well, unless a juicy prank was involved. Then they were both game.
"But we still have to be careful," Frisk urged when Verdana started flipping forms like a light switch. "The barrier is up. Unless they have seven human souls—"
"One more," Toriel interrupted, shaking her head. She scowled. "That man only needs one more human." Her sad gaze drifted to the twins. "Or maybe two half-humans."
Frisk took a deep breath and rose from the table. "We have to find the Royal Scientist."
"You mean," Vivaldi piped up, first swallowing her food to mind her manners, "Dr. Alphys?"
"Isn't she a bad lady?" Verdana said, tugging woefully at the hair clip that, while not dangerous to the twins, refused to come off or even budge.
"...I don't think she's bad," Frisk said, through gritted teeth. Thinking of the Alphys from their world made them want to scream. Calming down, they added, "But the Alphys here might be kind. And able to help."
"I don't know this Alphys you speak of," said Toriel, dropping her jaw, "but you cannot possibly be thinking of traveling Underground. They—Asgore—will kill you."
"The Asgore of my world," Frisk said, standing behind their children and stroking their heads, "loves us very much."
Toriel bowed her horned head in sorrow. Without another word, she left the table, creaking the weathered floorboards as she walked to the middle staircase and went downstairs.
"Where's Grandma going?" asked Verdana.
"To the door leading to the rest of the Underground," Frisk said, solemn. They watched Toriel disappear into the basement and listened until her soft footsteps faded completely. "To destroy it."
"Oh no!" Vivaldi cried, leaping out of her seat. But Frisk touched her shoulder.
"When we go down there, I think Toriel will fight me because she's scared for us," Frisk continued, turning the twins to face them. "Stay far behind me and wait."
Verdana's eyes went wide. He grabbed his mother's wrist. "No!"
"We'll fight, too!" Vivaldi insisted.
"Please," Frisk said, crouching to their eye level. They cupped the twins' faces and stroked their cheeks. "Trust me."
The twins curled their hands into fists, but nodded. Then, they followed Frisk down into the basement's musty, violet corridor, albeit slowly, as if marching to their doom. They both fought the urge to run ahead of their mother and, instead, obediently lagged behind. If Mommy could be brave, they would be brave, too. Many places in the Ruins, like a fun leaf pile or a mouse hole near stuck cheese, had encouraged them to be brave and stay determined.
In fact, each point looked just like Daddy's star necklace.
"Wait!" Gasping, Vivaldi yanked her brother's arm. "Mommy didn't save!"
"Didn't Mommy see Daddy's star in the leaves?" Verdana cried, pointing to the distant Ruins behind him. "Or in front of Grandma's house?"
This time, Vivaldi did not bother arguing over whether or not Toriel was Grandma, but shook her head.
"Then Mommy's in big trouble!" said Verdana. Snatching Vivaldi's hand, he shouted, "C'mon, Viv!"
Balls of flame ringed Toriel's hands, and the ancient monster flung them at Frisk, who dodged the clusters easily. Another fiery attack followed, and then another, but Frisk hopped back and forth as if the two adults were playing a deadly game of double dutch. When the twins trotted toward them and saw this, they charged forward at full speed.
"Stop!" cried Verdana, rushing ahead.
Vivaldi trembled at his side but kept running. "Please, stop!"
Startled, Toriel's aim skewed wide and her attack blasted the spot where Frisk stood. Then Toriel froze in horror as Frisk screamed.
The twins jumped between them and took the full force of the fire.
Time stuttered.
Continue.
"Mommy!"
Frisk jolted awake and sat up, again on the bed in Toriel's house, their children again curled up on either side. But this time, the twins clutched them and sobbed, quaking with relief and fear.
And then, Frisk remembered. Staring with wonder at Vivaldi and Verdana as the twins wrapped their little arms around Frisk's waist and dampened it with tears, Frisk said, "You two. You reset."
They nodded.
Hands shaking and pulse racing to drown out all thought, Frisk silently begged the heavens for mercy while searching every inch of their children's bodies, still so small and growing, for a specific type of injury. Not bruises, not skinned knees, not sprained ankles, not even burns. Frisk fought to focus. Please, no!
None. No flowers?
Frisk then checked their own body, bracing to find and tug a stray buttercup that would shoot them through with dull, overwhelming pain. Still nothing.
Soon, the twins' curiosity dried their eyes. "Mommy," asked Vivaldi, wiping her flushed cheeks with her white sweater sleeve as Frisk gazed at them both, stunned, "what are you looking for?"
No curse.
Frisk's face crumpled. They were safe. They would live. Grabbing the twins, Frisk held them tight and wept.
The three of them slept late, or at least pretended so, since now there was much more that the family could discuss. By no means did Frisk want the twins to ever, under any circumstances, endanger themselves like that again. The twins learned why their mother could dodge Grandma's fire magic so easily: practice.
Thanks to the absent flower curse and Frisk's muscle memory of a much harder fight, however rusty they were, they beat Toriel in one try. Frisk had the use of both eyes and noticed that this Toriel's resolve to fight was remarkably weak. Several turns in, Frisk stood still with the twins directly behind them because Toriel's fire sailed wide in a pitiful attempt to look threatening. Toriel begged, pleaded, and then gave up. She could not stop them from offering mercy, and she could no longer drum up the will to block their way.
Before departing the Ruins, Toriel asked them not to return. The twins sniffled, heartbroken that their grandmother would say such a thing, but Frisk had a twinkle in their ruby eyes, knowing better. Frisk hugged Toriel fiercely and murmured, "See you soon, Mom."
The moment they left Toriel behind and went through the first set of exit doors, Frisk halted and flung their arms in front of the twins. Flowey had returned.
"I bet you feel really great. Kids love playing the hero. Until they fail," Flowey said with a snicker. He looked Frisk up and down, smirked, and said, "But you know that already, don'tcha?"
Frisk glared back. Flowey disappeared into the earth.
Vivaldi grasped Frisk's blouse. "I'm scared, Mommy."
"Don't worry, sis! I've got a bone to pick with that mean flower," Verdana crowed, thumping his chest in a show of bravado. "I'll protect you!"
Frisk swallowed the lump in their throat, but said nothing and led the way to Snowdin.