Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

As the newly appointed chief biologist at a prestigious marine life research facility, there were high expectations for Dr. XGaster, none greater than the monster's own on itself.

Having assumed the position of his mentor, the biologist wanted not only to prove himself worthy of his mission, but to surpass it. But reality was a little different from expectations and he had no idea what he had to do to achieve them.

Oh of course, he was absolutely convinced that he would be able to fulfill to the letter everything that his new position demanded... No, it was his own ambition that was the problem, more precisely in how to achieve it.

XGaster wanted to be recognized and not only by his peers, but by the world!

He wanted to be the best and he knew he had the ability and talent for it, but the problem was how to show it. All the ideas that emerged seemed to him already explored, without creativity or an easy path.

He had several projects, both in his work and personal, that could yield him good results, including the possibility of discovering something new or unraveling a dark detail that his fellow researchers left unanswered, but that was not what he wanted.

He wanted something unique, something grand! Something that would not only get the attention of his peers, but of the world. Something new and unique to him and not something already done, whose results could be the same as those found by his colleagues or so that his discoveries were just another piece of data to be repeated in lectures to a select group of science.

It was by chance that the answer to his problems came to him, or more precisely that he came to the answer.

He'd borrowed Gerson's little dinghy (of course he had speedboats full of fancy equipment ready at his disposal, but he'd have to sign documents, give explanations, check the equipment, sign more documents... an endless hassle to just walk around the bay) that afternoon with the intention of collecting some shellfish samples from the cove.

(And if some ended up on his plate, what's the problem? He was just testing their nutritional level!)

Honestly he didn't know what went wrong. One minute he was hauling in the net and the next the sea was hauling him.

Somehow the net got caught in his hands and summoning more only ended up wrapping him more in it. He began to sink as he struggled to free himself, increasingly desperate as he watched the shape of the boat's hull shrink and its surroundings darken.

He cursed himself for his carelessness, for not warning anyone he would be there.

As he sank, he couldn't believe that his end would be that. That he would die at the bottom of the bay, out of an idiotic desire for shellfish and petty not to go to the market to buy them. Alone, without any great deeds and completely unknown to the world.

He woke up a while later, still tangled up in the net, at the bottom of the stall.

As he blinked to adjust his lights to dim lighting, he was glad he hadn't informed anyone that he was going out to sea that afternoon. How pathetic it would be if anyone found out that the cold, serious biologist had fainted from panic at the thought that he was going to drown when he was a skeleton and therefore had no lungs for it.

He realized how cold the water was as his cheeks burned with embarrassment.

A move to his left made him alert and completely forget about his embarrassing feelings and reminding him that he was still at the bottom of the sea, trapped by a stupid fishing net.

He looked at the marine flora that surrounded him carefully, trying to catch any movement that wasn't caused by the sea currents themselves.

There were no big predators in the bay, so it was probably just some fish or a crustacean among the seaweed (he told himself, trying to control the fear instinct. He'd made a fool of himself enough for his entire life).

A pair of white lights glared at him, half hidden by the aquatic plants.

It was only because he was actively telling himself not to freak out and not act like a teenager in a horror movie that he didn't scream. His entire body froze in shock and either from his total paralysis, or the creature's curiosity, the owner of the lights moved a little closer, revealing a small, round skull.

This time he couldn't contain the shock of surprise and a column of bubbles came out of his mouth. Immediately the skull disappeared. Mentally cursing himself, he started fighting the net again.

By the Angel! If that was what he thought it was, he couldn't lose sight of it! Such a discovery could be his long-awaited find in life!

He almost thanked, distracted as he was, when a small pair of hands joined his and pulled away an annoying section of the net. He paused, staring at a hand that was equal to his in constitution but on a much smaller scale. Slowly he shifted his vision and faced the owner of the tiny hand. Holding his breath (metaphorically, he hadn't been breathing in quite some time) he stared at the mermaid cub.

Its skull was almost like his, but its eye sockets were small, narrow, and devoid of any light (was he too young to manifest them, or did he not need them?). At first glance, despite their smallness, the bones looked strong and immaculate. His spine disappeared into a long, slender tail. A Alopias Vulpinus, or more popularly called thresher shark, according to that long and tapered caudal fin.

As he studied him (and was studied back) the little one smiled with tiny pointed fangs (was it a smile or a threat?)

A flutter in the seaweed beyond the baby (or is puppy a better term?) caught her attention. Another merskeleton was farther back, one hand resting on the end of the baby tail, as if ready to tug at it if XGaster showed any violent reaction.

The second's skull was larger and more rounded, with large eye sockets and simple white lights that studied him with caution and curiosity. His bones looked as robust as the first one, but the plants around him hid his tail.

(but he would bet his collection of marine fossils that it was also a fox shark)

Surprising!

Not only had he found one, but two merskeletons!

Stars! If his colleagues saw him now they would death be jealous of him!

Merskeleton were a species shrouded in mystery. Despite having known these beings for thousands of years, there was very little information (that were not wrapped in legends and fantasies) about them.

They were shady beings who actively avoided surface beings and very, very difficult to find much less studied.

Despite all the technology, until today there were only small glimpses of these creatures. Legends and tales of fishermen, blurred photos and videos from a distance. Sometimes just the image of a colored fin or a face that quickly sank, disappearing into the depths of the ocean without a trace.

(it was ridiculous, but the best images of these creatures were paintings, statues or ancient mosaics, many exaggerated by the creative mind of ancient peoples)

Finding a merskeleton was only possible by luck!

For that very reason, this was the chance of a lifetime! It was like a sign! He had to study a species with virtually no data in its own habitat!

XGaster could feel his bones vibrating with excitement at the realization.

Emboldened by its immobility and lack of reaction, the second puppy moved closer, letting go of the tail of the first one who was now patting his shirt, curious about the unfamiliar material.

After a minute of exploration, the clothes lost interest of the little one who looked at something amid the seaweed and turned to leave.

The biologist screamed and a new jet of bubbles appeared. The little cub turned in surprise and the second bared its teeth, sharp as the first (definitely a threat), backing away with a brisk flick of its tail. He grabbed the first cub, and tried to tow it away.

Without thinking about what he was doing XGaster used blue magic to keep them both still. Immediately the pups began to struggle. Still instinctively XGaster flipped them onto their backs and immediately the fight died.

(So tonic mobility also worked for “half” sharks. Fascinating!)

With his "heart" in his throat, XGaster quickly thought of what he could do. He couldn't let them go. It would be letting the chance of his life slip through his fingers. He would have to abandon the initial idea of studying them in their habitat and taking them to his laboratory.

Yes, that was the best course of action, he thought as he went back to working the net with new conjured hands.

After all, it would be a very big risk, not only could he lose them (they could be migratory!) but they could be killed (were merskeleton at the top of the food chain or would they be prey to other creatures?).

With one last tug he managed to free himself from the net and began to swim to the surface towing the pups with him.

As he watched the world around him clear, his mind filled with shadows.

If he took those babies out of the ocean he would be breaking many moral laws (and certainly some legal ones).

Merskeletons were not an protected species. There were no laws against capturing these beings (at least not that he knew of, or at least not in his country).

Maybe because they were simply so rare to find them, that no one stopped to worry about it, or maybe it was because they were considered magical beings (at least the legends let it be understood that they were. And taking into account their ability to stay hidden, the chances were high that they really were magicical, or at least possessed some kind of magic) and could fend for themselves.

(the truth was that many didn't even believe in their existence, so why create laws for creatures that couldn't even exist?)

For a moment he wondered if he would even do that. If he was really going to get them out of the sea.

There could be a family waiting for them (mermaids took care of their young? There were many sea creatures that raised their offspring, but others didn't. Sharks included), or they didn't adapt to captivity...there were so many species simply died when confined. ..

On the other hand, they could be alone, or orphans. The chances of small cubs surviving on their own in the immense blue were slim. They were more likely to survive in captivity. And if they didn't adapt, XGaster could always return them to the sea.

(and just to think what he might learn! What he would discover could be of immense importance, not only to science, but to the merskeleton themselves. It would be worth the sacrifice!)

Convinced by her logic, he pushed away his fears and pushed himself more vigorously to the surface. He now only had to climb into the raft and haul the pups inside (or drag them alongside the raft with blue magic if they couldn't be pulled out of the water) and then head back to the lab.

Taking them inside the research center would be more complicated, but he would manage (thankfully, it was a day off from the team). He already had the perfect tank in mind for the two of them.

He couldn't wait to get to the lab and get to work!

Chapter Text

He was dozing, his head resting on his folded arms and his lower half hidden inside his den, when a shadow appeared covering the warm light filtering up to him.

Opening an eye socket, he stared with annoyance at what had interrupted his beautiful nap. He growled annoyed at the sight of the shape floating above him.

Another one of those damn ships!

How dare they continue to invade their territory?!
It was to be expected that after destroying so many, those annoying creatures had learned their lesson and dared not venture into its waters, but it seemed that the lesson was not yet fixed.

All right, he'd just have to teach them one more time.

His tentacles felt around the edge of the cave that was his hiding place. Pressing against the rock he propelled himself out and forward, like a missile toward his target. A few meters before crashing into the hull he opened his tentacles, cutting off his advance. Spinning around, he extended his tentacles to the bottom of the ship, attaching himself to the hull.

The ship rocked, but it was big enough to support him... for now.

He spread his tentacles, covering as much as he could, ensuring a good grip before starting to snake them down the sides.

As soon as the tips broke through the water, they threw themselves against the rail, gripping the sides tightly. Its suction cups clamped down, ensuring there was no way for his “prey” to escape.

Smiling madly, he started to squeeze. At first nothing happened, but then he felt the hull creak. He put in more pressure and even underwater he heard the crack as the hull broke like an egg.

His work was done! But just in case, he released his tentacles, leaving only two attached to the vessel, and propelled himself to the bottom. For a moment the boat resisted, like an animal that has not yet realized which wounded one was. With a little more momentum he felt it give way and finally begin to sink.

As soon as he felt that the ship began to try to drag him, and not the opposite, he released it and walked away to a safe distance, watching the ship sink faster and faster, going to join the rest of the others.

As soon as the ship hit the bottom, kicking up a cloud of sand and debris, he launched himself at it again. Groping with his tentacles he soon found the crack, and with just a little more force, he increased it a little more.

A tentacle crept into the crack, feeling around until it found a small solid shape. Letting out an appreciative sound he wrapped it around and dragged it out to his waiting hands. Holding the small form, he brought it to his mouth and took a bite, savoring his booty.

***

-I told you he would like it! Erroctopus are dramatic bittys and, like all Error types, they need to cause a certain level of destruction to stay healthy!

Blue finally turned his lights away from the aquarium and faced his friend Ink. He hadn't really taken faith that it would work, but being the protector of the multiverse, Blue supposed he knew a thing or two...

Bullshit! He thought it was all Ink's invention, but he'd gotten to the point of desperation that he'd try anything to feed the tiny meroctopus, even go along with a crazy idea of the ink-stained skeleton.

(and he didn't entirely dismiss the idea that the whole thing was invented on the spot, but since Ink had created it, it had somehow come true. After all, he didn't fully understand the artist's powers and his relationship with the so-called “Creators”)

At first he had tried to feed him directly, handing him small pieces of food, but one bite later taught him not to leave his fingers anywhere near the bitty.

He then threw the food into the water, hoping that Erroctopus would pick up the pieces by itself. When he declined the taco pieces, he took Dream's advice and tried fish, which were equally ignored (Ha! He knew his tacos weren't the problem! Who wouldn't like magnificent Blue's fantastic tacos?). He had tried several things, but the food had just sunk or floated untouched.

His brother had suggested that the bitty was a wild type and that he might prefer his food “fresh” (which caused an argument, after all was Papy insinuating that he was feeding the little one nothing more than the best and freshest food? ). After much consideration, he'd given in and gone to the pet store in search of something for his picky bitty.

He had come home with a bag of small fish, which now decorated his brother's room. He couldn't just throw them in the aquarium and let them be devoured! It was just wrong!

(Yes, he was aware that he was being hypocritical when he went to the market and bought fish, but it was one thing to buy the animal already dead and sliced and another to see them alive and happily swimming and knowing they would be devoured soon)

It had been almost a week since bitty had arrived and he hadn't eaten anything he offered (except for a piece of chocolate that Chara had thrown in, but to this day Blue didn't know if it was because bitty liked it or because of Chara's challenge, who had told that bitty was too stupid to appreciate something as divine as chocolate).

He'd tried everything, he'd bargained, begged, and even cried (and even went so far as to offer more chocolate, but was ignored, though the bitty hesitated on this one), to no avail. He was terrified that one day he would come home and find Bitty's dust floating in the water (or foam. Ink had reported that some versions of merskeleton turned to sea foam).

Monsters didn't need to eat as often as humans, didn't even need it to be "traditional" food, but bittys were creatures with different rules, despite still being a species of monster.

He knew that bittys depended on the presence of a “greater” soul to sustain themselves and stay healthy, but like any living being, they needed food to sustain themselves too, and taking into account that the little one didn't allow Blue to touch him or get too close without growling and trying to attack him, he imagined that his presence didn't do much to help him in that regard either.

So he must have needed even more food to sustain himself (and since he had no idea when bitty's last meal was, it only made the whole situation even more desperate).

One day he came home to find the half skeleton half octopus lying in a corner of the aquarium, its black tentacles limp around it with the tips almost transparent, he was desperate enough to ask Ink.

(Being the Keeper of the AU's he should have had some knowledge of this specific bitty type – especially with all the obsession he had with Error – just hope he remembered)

When Ink had told him his idea, he'd almost scoffed and dismissed it as pure invention by the artist, but he'd come this far, and he'd tried everything, so why not?

(After all, desperate situations call for desperate measures)

The first boat had been nothing more than a hastily made raft of ice cream sticks and homemade glue. He piled some chopped raw fish on top and carefully placed it in the aquarium.

At first the meroctopus ignored it, and Blue was already considering taking Cross's ironic suggestion seriously and asking either Error (the "original" destroyer of AU's) directly, when suddenly the bitty lunged towards the raft.

It had all happened so fast that Blue could barely see (much less believe that the apathetic creature from seconds ago had wreaked such havoc). One second there was a small platform floating and the next just pieces of wood and fish slowly sinking.

The bitty picked up a few pieces of meat and went to hide in the small artificial cave that he had put as a hiding place for him.

Blue exploded with happiness (and relief) and ran to Muffet's to share the good news with her brother (and anyone else in the coffee shop). When he returned a while later, still vibrating with contentment (and the cider that Muffet insisted on drinking to celebrate) the remaining pieces of fish were gone, leaving only the pieces of wood behind.

(he picked up the floating pieces of the sticks with tweezers. Very long tweezers)

He still wasn't 100% convinced, but as the days went by, and the small boats (that had gotten more elaborate over time, going from simple rafts to small boats) were destroyed and the meals inside them devoured, he had to give up and admit that Ink was right.

-Hum... I'm glad you managed to feed the prag... I mean bitty, but I think you might be exaggerating, bro...

Grumbled Stetch from the couch, scanning with growing disbelief all the magazines, books, and art supplies that Ink had brought and Blue had collected from other AU's on his visits as one of the Star Sanses.

-Nonsense! – he looked at the tall skeleton with his hands on his hip bone – What if he gets tired of the models? The magnificent Blue has to be prepared for any eventuality!

-He seemed pretty satisfied with the ice cream stick rafts... - Stretch grumbled through the lollipop stick.

(At least he's been following the no-cigarettes-in-house rule ever since bitty arrived)

-If he likes boats then I, as his guardian and provider, must provide the best options! - Blue announced in a full stop tone.

He never imagined building boats model as a hobby (particularly he preferred rockets and space models) for him, but if that was what he needed to do to take care of the little one, then he would become the ultimate transport miniature builder world seafarer!

(No, from the Multiverse!)

-Of course, bro... but... submarines?! – Stretch asked incredulously lifting one of the magazines.

Huffing, Blue walked away from the big aquarium (dragging Ink with him. He didn't trust his friend with anything smaller than a large dog) and went to the couch to explain to her brother about the importance of entertainment and exercise to keep bittys healthy (something her brother could practice too, even if he's not a bitty).
Ink jumped into the conversation/lecture, offering suggestions and generally fueling Blue's excitement and his fetched ideas.

As the three skeletons laughed and argued, the merocotopus finished its meal and lazily crept back to its cave, feeling satisfied and sated... for an hour at least. He had protected his territory and feasted, later (hopefully) he would probably have to repeat the entire feat.

Grumbling, he settled on the soft sand, spreading his tentacles across the smooth interior of the cave. With luck the next ship would be a little harder to destroy.

Smiling, he lowered his head on his folded arms, already dreaming of rough seas, screams of despair and the sound of thunder, not coming from the clouds, but from the wood bursting under his tentacles.

A dramatic bitty indeed!

Chapter Text

-So, what do we have?

-Hi, Reaps! A double homicide. – The first guard replied excitedly.

-It's not a pretty scene. - warned your partner in a conspiratorial tone.

-And when is it? – He spoke with good humor, passing the pair responsible for keeping reporters and onlookers away.

There were a lot of people gathered even though it was late at night. Most must have been neighbors, but he could make out at least a couple of reporters. Surely there would be more soon, after all, such a crime in a quiet residential neighborhood like this drew attention.

Passing under the yellow tape, he entered the house proper. The first thing he noticed was the metallic and chemical smell (blood and gunpowder), the second was the smell of burning meat and finally the smell of popcorn. Most people would only feel one or two, but he had a nose for such things (in his profession, it was nice to have one). Further ahead he heard the noise of the camera shutter and saw the flashes illuminating the first span on the left.

Before he could go any farther, a policeman staggered out of the span, eyes wide over his hand which was covering his mouth. Reaper pressed himself against the wall to let him through, and when he turned around, he saw Red staring at him with his patented shark smile (smile that didn't reach his eyes).

-At least he was smart enough to get out and not contaminate the crime scene. – He commented upon hearing the unmistakable sound of the guy vomiting behind him.

-Not that it would make much difference... It's already a mess inside. - Red indicated with his head the room that was still lit by the flashes.

Reaper approached and took a peek. He'd seen several crime scenes, this one wasn't the worst by far, but it was still shocking, especially for someone who wasn't used to it (as was the case with the rookie throwing up his guts in the garden).

There were two bodies lying on the floor in a huge pool of blood, which the cheap rug below was partially absorbing. Even from a distance he could see arcs of splashes on the walls and furniture surrounding the bodies.

Stepping inside for a closer look (stopping quickly to greet Lesser, who returned the greeting with a cheery "Hey Doc!" before getting back to work documenting the scene), he saw that there was even a splash on the ceiling.

Reaper let out a low whistle.

-Someone was angry. - He said looking around and registering the furniture overturned, the broken TV and the popcorn scattered like confetti on the floor.

-Lots! I thought I'd have to use a crowbar to get it off the kid.

Reaper didn't miss the tone or how Red referred to the killer. Preferring not to delve into the matter (after all, these problems were none of his concern), he approached the smaller body.

He estimated the child to be between 8 and 10 years old. They had brown hair and appeared to be healthy (when alive). Your torso was a mess of red. Reaper couldn't estimate how many stab wounds the child had taken, but they were enough to make the striped shirt them wore almost unrecognizable.

He bent down, fished a glove out of his coat pocket and pulled it on as he took a closer look at the body.

There were also cuts on the arms, hands, neck and face. The child had fought to defend themself. Despite this, they expression was serene, and along with them eyes closed, they looked almost asleep. (of course, if he could just ignore all the cuts and blood around them).

He gave Red a sidelong glance. People used to find the glassy gaze of death unnerving, and while Red wasn't stupid to interfere unnecessarily with the body at a crime scene, even he could be affected by the sight of a dead child (even though he's come across several such scenes before).

-I don't think this will be a big mystery, Doctor. - Red spoke when Reaper leaned over the body to open the child's eye - The cause of death is obvious.

-Yes, but who knows? It wouldn't be the first time appearances can be deceiving...

-I think in this case it's pretty obvious that the death was multiple stabbings. - Red spoke dryly.

-It could be... but which one was the fatal one?

The detective made a sound that was half contempt, half amused. He knew how much Reaper liked to know the details, the small, decisive details that led to the fateful point of no return.

Getting up and leaving the child for now, he headed for the other body (ah! That's where the smell of burning flesh came from!).

The second body was that of a man, around his age or younger. Light blonde hair with a few strands already gray and a little out of shape.

-That one shouldn't be too much trouble either. – Red commented when he saw Reaper studying the second victim.

-I don't know... From what I see he was also stabbed. - And he indicated the shirt soaked in blood and with a big rip in the front.

-Yes, but the head...

-Yeah... that was ugly... what did they hit him with?

-That's a good question. Hope you give us a clue as to what the hell the freak used to do this.

The right side of the men face had been hit by something, and whatever it was, it had done a lot of damage. The upper right part of his face was a shapeless mass of blood and burned flesh (it would take some work to make him presentable for the wake).

Curious, Reaper knelt, wondering what the killer had used to get the face into that state.

Just as he leaned over to get a better look at the wound, the man's left eye popped open and a hand flew out to grab his arm. For a “corpse” the man gripped his arm with surprising strength.

He heard Red gasp and Lesser howl in fear, but he didn't react, just stared at the staring eye.

His pupil was so dilated he couldn't tell what color the man's iris was. Despite the immobility, his eyes darted from side to side, still searching for the threat.

His mouth opened, but before he could say anything (even though he had no idea what he was going to say) the man's lips started moving and he focused on them.

The corpse (not so corpse like that) had thin, almost colorless lips (another sign that he must be dead, and not trying to talk) which made the blood bubble that appeared between it, contrast even more.

The victim's fingers tightened even more, pulling an involuntary grimace of pain from him, as the man's lips moved forming words without sound.

Dimly he heard Red cursing something that sounded like "Who the hell checked the pulse?", but he was too focused on the man to register.

There was a familiar sound (which his mind only registered without really identifying) and the man's face bathed in white before returning to normal. Red screamed again, this time demanding that someone stop and go get help.

Reaper leaned in more, fascinated by what was happening in front of him as his mind turned off what was happening around him. In all his years as a medical examiner in the criminal department, he had never been in such a situation.

(and look at that he will come LOTS of bizarre things)

-...refuse...

Reper leaned closer, trying to hear the wispy, watery voice. The man spoke some more words and then fingers loosened and his eye rolled up. Reaper stood completely still, waiting for what else would happen next.

-Do something, Reaper!

The demand snapped him out of his trance and he straightened up looking at a pale Red, as if he were the real corpse.

For a second Reaper didn't understand what Red wanted him to do. He was a coroner, and that guy wasn't dead yet (he couldn't start an autopsy. It was illegal to perform such a procedure on someone alive!). And then he realized that even though he hadn't dealt with a live patient in years, he had the knowledge to do so. Only he didn't have any equipment with him.

(unless he counted on the thermometer he was carrying, but he was pretty sure taking the guy's liver temperature wouldn't help him at all)

With relief he heard running footsteps and emergency personnel appear. He walked away as they began to examine the corpse/victim and try to stabilize him (for the first time, Reaper was sure Edge would be happy with the rescuers' laziness in leaving the scene of the crime).

As he watched the paramedics take him away, he thought about his last words.

“I refuse to die”

Chapter Text

When the phone rang, Stretch was expected many things.

His brother asking how he was, maybe an invitation from Slim to smoke, even an invitation from Sans to help him come up with some more puns... and even a call from some human telemarketer, even though, theoretically, he couldn't receive that kind of call.

(but it had happened before and he half expected it to happen again, just so he could record it and rub it in Lab's scaly face). He definitely didn't expect to hear his boyfriend's breathless voice.

-Tresh

For an absurd moment he thought it was Edge calling him trash, until his mind filtered the tone (and volume) and realized it wasn't his double.

-Red? – Stretch sat down on the bed immediately.

There was something about the way his boyfriend's breath came out that made him instantly alert and tense, ready to take a shortcut if necessary.

-What is was?!

-I... I think...

A choked breath and Stretch stood up, wanting to rush Red, but knowing it wouldn't be a good thing. If he was injured or in trouble, interrupting him could do more harm than good.

-There is something wrong with Doom.

It took Stretch a few seconds for his mind to come out of "jump to action" mode and decipher the phrase Red said.

-Um... Doomfanger? – he wanted to confirm that he hadn’t heard wrong.

-Of course Doomfanger! – Red exploded and Stretch grimaced.

Ok, Red wasn't very tolerant of stupid questions normally, being clearly nervous as he was it was clear that he would bite at the first opportunity.

-Ok... what's wrong?

-I don't know... it... it got into my wardrobe and is meowing strangely... I tried to catch him, but it attacked me...

Stretch held his tongue before he could ask why he was calling him. Honestly, Stretch should be the last option (ok, not the last. He would probably be above Axe, whose only help would be to suggest adding potatoes and cooking it over low heat, or slicing the cat and serving it with soy sauce) Red should have looked at...he had no experience with animals!

(In his universe he had had a pet mushroom, true, but his mushroom was very low maintenance. Just a little edible glitter and dusting every now and then – both things Sans did, not him – and he was perfectly fine The Annoying Dog didn't 't count, he was more like Alphys, who occasionally showed up to eat or sleep on his couch)

-Hum... Why don't you call the Edgelord?

-Boss is on duty today! He's in a meeting with the higher-ups, discussing security things.

Oh damn!

If it was like that, then Red wouldn't be able to talk to Edge until after the meeting, which could take a while considering that it was the first security meeting with the new universe that had joined the surface.

-OK. What do you want me to do? – he finally asked. It seemed like the safest question to ask at the moment.

The silence on the other end of the line said that, despite his best attempt, his question had been especially stupid (which would make Stretch angry too, after all what did Red expect him to do?) or, hopefully , he was thinking about a course of action.

Before the Fell skeleton's response arrived, Stretch heard a strange, prolonged wailing noise.

-Hey! Was that Doom? – he asked alarmed.

He had never heard the cat make that sound (and considering what vocal the little beast's was, he imagined he had heard all kinds of bizarre noises from the feline, from the baby meow it made to ask for a piece of whatever was eating, until the ear-piercing scream it made when Blue stepped on his tail once).

-Help please! – was Red's response. And Red's completely destroyed tone was enough to put all that urgency from the beginning of the conversation back into Stretch.

-I'll be there in a minute!

He said, already going down the stairs and running to the crumpled shoe at the front door, it was better to be prepared in case he had to take the beast somewhere (and let's not think about where. He honestly didn't want to remember that if the cat was really in trouble there would be no one inside the barrier to look for. There were practically no animals underground, so no monster had practice dealing with them. The best he could do is take it to one of the Torieis and hope that healing magic could solve any type of problem).

He hung up the phone and opened the front door, heading left, around the corner of his house and emerging on the right corner of the Fell brothers' house (blessed are shortcuts!). He headed straight for the back door, waving her into Edge's spotlessly clean kitchen..

-Up here!

Another of those half-groan meows, much more disturbing in person than on the cell phone, followed Red's words, who let out his own squeal of suffering.

Even though Red was always complaining about the furball, he loved the feline as much as Edge. In fact, Red spoiled Doomfanger more than the “official owner” himself.

Stretch climbed two steps at a time and entered Red's room, seeing the said skeleton kneeling in front of his wardrobe, which looked like it had been attacked. It looked like a bomb had gone off, scattering socks, underwear and blouses on the floor. In a way, it even looked like his own closet in Underground.

(He had quickly learned that on the surface if he left his clothes lying around something called dust would accumulate on them and the feeling of it against his bones and especially in his nasal passages was something he would definitely avoid at all costs, even going so far as to have to do your own cleaning and more weekly washing).

When he entered Red turned to him and Stretch felt his chest tighten. The reddish lights, normally just ovals, were dilated to look almost like circles in their despair. There were no traces of tears on his face, but Stretch could see the way his eye sockets looked irritated.

He could count the times he had seen Red in such a broken state. It took something very serious to make Red react this way, and normally, he only broke down like this when it got to the point where he not only didn't know how to deal with the situation, but he didn't know who to turn to to try and fix it.

Without saying anything he walked over and knelt down next to Red.

The Fell brothers' big cat had crept into the back of the closet, in the part where Red kept his shoes. He appeared to have pushed some away and was lying on his side in a pair of fluffy red slippers (Stretch didn't even know Red had anything like that, but he suspected it must have been a gift from Comic from some past Christmas).

There was something definitely wrong with the cat. His belly was rising and falling at a fast pace and despite his eyes being open, they were dilated and glassy.

Stretch reached out to try and touch the feline, but as soon as his hand hovered over its shaggy fur, the animal turned to him and let out one of its banshee screams (which he knew well from when Edge tried to bathe it) and its paw front came flying to hit his fingers.

Stretch retracted his quick fingers, not concerned with the claws really (nails don't usually win when faced with bones), but with the feline's intent. Even though his HP was in the 2 digits, and the feline couldn't inflict more than 1 point (0.5 probably) he preferred not to get hurt unnecessarily.

The cat stared at him with its ears back and its teeth bared, snorting at him. As soon as Stretch stepped back, letting his hand fall to his side, the animal lost all fury and laid its head on one side again, letting out a plaintive meow.

Red beside him imitated the feline with his own groan of suffering.

Okay, there was definitely something with the feline, and as it was, it would be difficult to get him out of there. He preferred not to have to use magic, but perhaps it was necessary.

The problem was who to take it to.

His first option would be Tori, but what if it was something serious and she couldn't cure it? Would it be better to take him straight to the embassy and get a pass outside the barrier to take him to a human veterinarian? He should call Edge, he would want to know where they were taking his cat...

Doomfanger suddenly stood up and bent over, putting his face under his tail and licking his parts.

-He's been doing this from time to time. – Red spoke for the first time and Stretch looked at him. The short skeleton didn't turn its lights away from the cat. - He meows, lies down then licks himself, lies down again and repeats the cycle...

Red finally looked away and looked at Stretch.

-What's wrong with him, Stretch?

The question broke his non-existent heart. He reached out a hand and squeezed his shoulder. It was so rare to see Red like this.

And now he understood why Red had called him instead of someone more useful like Black or Comic – who had experience with animals, even if in Black's case indirectly.

Even though Red had become more open with others, it would still be difficult for him to let anyone see him so helpless (and despite the situation, he couldn't help but be moved when he realized how much Red trusted him).

A sound broke the moment and they both saw Doomfanger lift his head and begin to pant. The mouth open and the eyes glazed over without seeing.

-Okay, that's it. We have to do something!

Red got to his feet resolutely, but just started pacing in circles.

Only now did Stretch notice that Red's tail was wrapped tightly around his waist, another indication that he was frustrated and nervous.

It had been years since Red hid his tail, but when he was very stressed he had the habit of curling it or hiding it (Stretch didn't know if it was to hide his discomfort or a way to control something in an out-of-control situation).

With one last look at Doom, he too rose to his feet. Apparently Red's practical mind had gone for a walk, it was time for him to take control (he would later think how fucked up the situation was, that he had to make executive decisions like that).

Grabbing Red's shoulders he stopped him and forced him to face him.

-Where is the carrier?

Red blinked blankly before understanding finally came.

-In Boss's room, under the bed.

Waving, he left Red and went to Edge's room.

Stopping in front of the door, he hesitated for a moment, staring at the “Caution, enter at your own risk” sign and the barbed wire embedded in the wood. It would be better if Red were the one to go into his brother's room, but he couldn't come back empty-handed now and tell Red that he hadn't taken the box out of some stupid sense of privacy. After all, he was going to look for something to save Edge's damn cat, not to snoop into the other's things.

Making his decision he turned the doorknob (hoping that Edge hadn't placed any kind of trap there. Given the lack of shock he figured he had left these tricks underground) and quickly entered.

The room was perfectly clean, not even a sock out of place. Even the posters on the wall were aligned with surgical precision (Stretch vaguely wondered if Edge had calculated not just the height, but even the spacing between them).

Stretch strode over to the bed (an ordinary single bed with a wooden frame, despite the blood red color of the wood) and bent down, retrieving the box from beneath it. He was just getting up when Red's scream almost made him drop the box.

-STRETCH!!!

The tall skeleton turned quickly, running away and crashing into the doorframe on his way out.

He almost collided with Red at the entrance to his room.

-What it was?!! – He asked, alarmed, seeing the paleness of his skull and how his boyfriend's lights were even brighter. A cold dread climbed his ribs.

-He... he... I think he... exploded...

Stretch dropped the box and stared blankly at Red.

Explode? He was a cat! A damn surface cat, not even a monster cat, it wouldn't explode like one of Mettaton's bombs!

Of course Doomfanger seemed very fat lately (also with the amount of treats that Red (and himself) gave the cat, it was no wonder, but then to say that he had exploded was an exaggeration.

Ignoring the other skeleton he went to the wardrobe, trying to prepare himself for what he would see.

Bending down, he peeked out and saw with relief the entire cat, folded over again, licking its backside. There was a dark stain underneath it, but from the poor lighting he couldn't tell if it was blood or if the cat had urinated on itself. Whichever it was definitely didn't seem to be enough for Red to say that the cat had exploded.

Something caught his attention and looking for his cell phone in his hoodie he turned on the flashlight and pointed it at the cat. What he saw made his orbs widen in astonishment.

-Hum... Red? - he called. The short skeleton stopped wailing in the hallway and cautiously entered the room, but stopped far from the closet.

-He... is he dead? – he asked in a low voice.

Stretch looked at the closet and grimaced before looking back at Red.

-Definitely not. And I know what's wrong with him.

Red's shoulders sagged in relief immediately at Stretch's words and he moved a little closer.

-What is it?

-It's not him... It's her.

Red blinked.

His words certainly didn't make the slightest sense to him. Stretch controlled the urge to laugh, if he started he wouldn't be able to stop for sure.

-What? -Red spoke in a hollow voice.

Stretch decided to elaborate.

-Doomfanger is not a male, but a female... at least biologically speaking. – he really didn’t need to get into the gender discussion of animals. – And you are a great-uncle.

The two stared at each other in silence for a moment. Stretch trying not to laugh at Red's blank expression.

Red's "brow" bone began to crease and before it turned into a full frown, a meow caught their attention and Stretch turned towards the wardrobe as Red ran to kneel beside him. As soon as the other fell to his knees beside him, Stretch turned the flashlight to the scene and added in a low, soft voice,

-He didn't explode, she's having kittens!

As soon as he finished speaking, the baby's hind legs finally came loose and Doom began to lick his firstborn.

Stretch wasn't sure what color the kitten would be. In the glow of the flashlight the little creature looked like just a pinkish thing with a few gray spots and the suggestion of what might be fur once dried (honestly, Stretch tried not to think about the ham that had once gone bad in the back of his refrigerator).

A sharp sound caught his attention and Stretch turned to see Red.

One look at the skeleton next to him and he wondered if the red lights would ever return to being the thin ovals after this day.

Red's lights were perfect circles fixed on the scene of the mother cat cleaning her offspring. Slowly he turned around and faced Stretch who couldn't contain the small snort of laughter.

Stars, he looked like a bad imitation of Blue with the lights like that!!

Red blinked and then opened his mouth, only to close it with a snap and continue to stare at Doom in amazement. After two more attempts, he finally blurted out a shy:

-Holy crap.

Stertch laughed again. Well, that summed up the issue perfectly.

They watched until Doom abandoned the cub and began licking himself again. Now with the flashlight Stretch could see that the second baby was on the way. Red stood up suddenly, repeating a litany of “no, no, nope, nope” and leaving the room.

Stretch snorted once again, laughing and picking up Red's cell phone (who had dropped it on the floor as soon as Stretch arrived minutes ago) he turned on his flashlight and started filming with his.
Red might not want to watch, but if Edge wanted to, he was sure he would record everything for when "grandpa" got home.

Hours later (hell, someone could have told him this would take hours, his arms were throbbing and his hipbone was killing him from sitting on the hard floor) he got up and went to collect the cardboard box that Red had pushed into the room some time ago, mumbling to call him as soon as EVERYTHING was over.

Considering that Doom had laid down after licking the last kitten and was now purring while the little naked balls (don't think ham!) whimpered the tiniest mewls he'd ever heard, he was pretty confident that the fifth one was the last.

Carefully he approached and touched Doomfanger's head who purred louder.

-Good job momy! – he praised her by giving her one last rub between her ears and, very carefully, held one of the babies.

He was tiny and so fragile!

Her entire little body could fit in the palm of a hand. The little animal moved, meowing softly and Sretch brought it closer to his face, seeing the round face and tiny crushed ears. In some ways he didn't look much like a cat.

Shrugging, he placed it inside the box that had the bottom covered with a towel and a folded pillowcase.

He picked up each one and deposited them inside the box. It was still difficult to know what color some were, but Stretch was sure that a couple would have darker coats (gray or maybe black).

No idea who the daddy would be (and that would be Edge's problem, but he wanted to see Edge chasing the neighborhood cats, yelling about child support and parental duties, he wanted it!).

Doomfanger got up and entered the box alone, settling down next to the cubs, still purringand looking at him with his yellowish green eyes as if to say: “See what I did?”.

Well after all the hard work she had every right to be proud!

Holding the box carefully he left the room and went after his boyfriend. He found him on the living room couch, staring at the turned off TV. His lights weren't as wide as last time, but they were still bigger than normal and his cautious, nervous expression remained. He glanced at the box before looking back at Stretch with a mix of feelings that Stretch couldn't quite figure out (apprehension and confusion, but something else too).

-There are 5 pkitties, Great-uncle!

Red grimaced and stood to peer into the box. Stretch bent down and deposited her on the couch. Red leaned in and Doom instantly turned her hooded eyes to him, her purring even louder as she stared at Red as if awaiting his verdict.

Red reached out a tentative finger before running it down the back of one of the cubs. Her shoulders sagged as if a weight had been lifted from them and her smile widened impossibly as her lights shone brightly.

-Heh, heh, you almost killed my heart you stinky furball! – he complained affectionately scratching under Doomfanger's chin. - And I don't even have one!

Stretch threw himself onto the vacant cushion, almost crying with relief at the softness against his injured bottom. Red made a sound of displeasure, but a quick glance told him that the small jolt his carcass caused to the couch didn't affect the mother or her cubs.

Taking out his cell phone once again, he began to prepare the message he was going to send (and kept in his memory the collection of precious – and hilarious – expressions that Red had shown him today).

***

When the meeting was finally over, Edge was more than ready to go home, take a nice hot shower, and spend a few hours stretched out on his bed reading a good book (one that preferably didn't have hard-headed ex-rulers, who didn't realize that were no longer underground and had to adapt to the new reality of the surface and a shared government).

While waiting for the elevator he took out his cell phone and saw that there were several new messages.

He hated not being able to answer the phone, but once on the surface and with the number of contacts increasing, he understood that he could not answer a call in the middle of a mportant crisis, only to be Science trying to order a pizza and dialing the wrong number or Stretch sending him some obscure meme).

If a real emergency occurred, Red or one of the others knew to call the embassy number. Goss would be happy to interrupt them, even if they were in a top secret meeting or just the decision to paint the embassy neon purple.

He scanned the messages, debating whether he should start reading them in order of arrival (when they were received), the order they appeared on his screen, or simply his mental list of priorities.

By force of habit he ended up clicking on his brother's first. There was just one message: “Look what Stretch sent you and congratulations!!”

Frowning he hesitated to click on the Ashtray icon (literally, he had put the image of a cheap orange ashtray as his “brother-in-law's” contact image), but curiosity was already burning and whether it was a stupid joke or some scheme stupid of those two worm brains, it was better to find out soon (a part of his mind assured him that it couldn't be a big deal, after all there was no call from Crocs, or Revenge which meant that whatever it was didn't end up at the police station or in the hospital).

The message was a huge “CONGRATULATIONS GRANDPA!!!” complete with ribbons and virtual confetti followed by several celebratory emojis and a collection of cat emojis.

Frowning even more he scrolled and saw that there was a video below.

He snorted, already imagining some Tick Tok video of some elderly human losing his teeth while blowing out the candles on a birthday cake (for some bizarre reason he and Silm seemed to find the epitome of fun the idea that humans would make fake teeth to stick themselves on in their mouths. He couldn't understand the funny, especially when one had a gold tooth implant and the other was dating someone who also had a dental implant).

Clicking on the video he didn't immediately identify what he was seeing. It looked like the back of someone's closet, then he saw the white furball that was his cat. He pulled his cell phone closer and turned up the volume, identifying Stretch's low voice encouraging Doomfanger.

If the damn ashtray was convincing Doomfanger to destroy his shoes (even though he doesn't remember owning a pair of red slippers) or to piss in his wardrobe he was going to rip out the other skeleton's spine!

The camera changed angles and Edge saw what Doomfanger was doing doubled in two. The sound he made would have embarrassed him had there been anyone in the hallway with him.

Thanks to the angel he was alone, too bad he wasn't as lucky when the elevator doors opened and a group of monsters came out finding the skeleton passed out on the floor. No one noticed the cell phone still playing the video or heard Stretch's voice encouraging Doomfanger to give birth to his babies, more concerned with helping the "Terrible Edge" who had fainted in shock upon discovering that he would become a grandpa.