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“Now, I know what it looks like.”
Grillby’s not too sure he does. Here’s Gaster, the suave, confident scientist he’s been steady with for a year now, looking as brilliant as always. He’s dressed as he usually is after a day at the lab, except for the two new additions clutching Gaster’s calves like lifelines. Two skeletal additions, to be precise. Small, awkwardly proportioned skeletons, who barely come up past Gaster’s knees and are shrouded in white lab coats. Babybones. “You have five minutes.”
“Right, so, here’s the thing,” and Grillby just knows this is gonna be one of those explanations. “I, uh, was… running some tests with a machine-”
“Which one..?”
Gaster has the decency to look sheepish, at least. “You know the one, love, the- uhm. The.. thingy.”
Ah, yes, the top secret, only-Asgore-and-Gaster-actually-know-what-it-is machine. Or as Gaster prefered to call it, ‘the thingamajig’. Honestly, he’s a brilliant man, and there’s very little reason for people who haven’t heard him speak to suggest otherwise. Good thing Grillby’s fluent in smartbrainian. “Hm. Would this be after I asked you to stop those particular experiments, and King Asgore had agreed?”
“...maybe?”
“Oh for fucks sake, Gast, you know what happened last time,” Grillby says, pointedly looking at the small cracks in Gaster’s face. He’s suddenly very glad the scientist had called him to the lab, instead of risking the walk through town with the kids.
“Ok but that was then and this is now ,” Gaster protests. “It was supposed to be a final test with some new data that popped up earlier. It wasn’t supposed to do anything!”
Grillby looks at Gaster’s ankles, “Right, so that’s not explaining the littles.”
“Well, actually, it does, but you don’t know that yet. See-” Gaster cuts off, looking down to the left, where the thinner of the two children is tugging on his coat. “Yes, small one?”
The little kid babbles, and Gaster frowns. “Ah, you’re probably hungry...” Grillby watches him flounder for a moment, checking various pockets in his coats and inventory, before heaving a sigh.
“Here, let me,” the fire elemental takes a juice box out of his inventory, “on the house.” He crouches down to eye level with the much smaller monster, holding out the drink.
Gaster nudges them forward. “Go on, he’s not gonna bite.”
The other skeleton watches the adults with a wary frown, before nodding, a rather calculated look for such a young monster. They let go of Gaster’s leg, wavering a moment without the support, before wobbling over to Grillby’s outstretched hand and taking the juice. Fingertips to chin, flat hand, flicking outwards.
“Thank you.”
Grillby starts in surprise, but the monster’s already totting back to the other and passing off his prize.
“They… they know Sign?”
Gaster sighs, before nodding. “Yes, apparently that’s a side effect of their conception. Maybe. Still not actually sure at all. Purely theoretical.”
“Curious. And their conception would be?” Grillby watches the kids interact; the lankier of the two seems to radiate unbridled, childish joy, while the other seems closed off somehow. Bizzare.
Gaster seems pained, face twisted in uneasiness. “Long story short, I think I successfully cloned myself.”
“..............I’m sorry?”
The small moan of despair is covered by the little skeletons’ shrill laughter. Grillby watches as the smaller one blanks out their eyelights, much to the amusement of the larger. “The machine, it kind of worked this time. So now I have kids. Who are also parts of me.”
Huh. That’s a new one. “If this is some kind of joke-“
“Grillby, please, why would I even joke about spontaneous children?!?”
He shrugs.
“No, somewhat regretfully, not a joke.”
Grillby doesn’t say anything for a long moment. Long enough for Gaster to start wringing his hands in agitation, “It wasn’t intentional, it wasn’t supposed to go like this. I don’t know what to do. I can’t raise kids , damn it, I can barely keep my plants alive! I-”
“......what happened?”
Gaster huffs, “Which part? Because I’m still trying to figure that out myself, generally speaking.”
Grillby doesn’t reply; instead he takes one of Gaster’s hands in his, running the pad of his thumb along the rim of the new, perfectly circular hole in the palm.
“Ah. The data had said there was insufficient magic matter in the machine? And the palms of my hands seemed to be the best choice, so further use wouldn’t be hampered.” Gaster winces when his thumb rubs inside the sensitive wound. Grillby snatches his hand back as though iced, but his hand is snagged in Gaster’s before he can fully retreat.“I’m fine, really. Well, not all the way, but it’s just sore.”
“I’m… still confused.”
Gaster sighs and pinches the bridge of his nasal cavity like he’s fighting off a headache, before dropping it and smoothing down the front of his coat anxiously. “I can’t tell you more, it’s still classified information. It was meant to be our secret tool for getting out of here, but it doesn’t quite work like we thought it would.”
“.................fine,” Grillby says, “Then what’s the plan?”
“Plan?”
Grillby gestures to the little ones, who are avidly watching the exchange. “You know. The mini-yous.”
“I don’t know. You know me, I’m not ready for this!” Gaster looks close to tears, “I’ll be a horrible dad!”
“Hm. Don’t think I agree with that. Stakes aren’t that high with a houseplant, kids are typically more resilient than foliage, and you have people who can help around here.”
“But what if I-”
“Nope. Come on, they’re gonna need some clothes.”
Gaster looks down at the XXS lab coats he had covered the kids with, which still swim around them in a mess of fabric. “Right, uhm, how do I..?”
“Carry them?” Grillby holds his arms out for the taller one, who enthusiastically clambers over, before passing him off to Gaster. “Like that.”
The look of panic on Gaster’s face makes Grillby wish he had a camera. “Oh, by the Angel, I'm gonna drop him. I really don’t know why you think-”
“You look good with a kid.”
“...really? Now?”
“Yep.” The kiddo clinging to Grillby’s shirt is already dozing off. “You can crash at my place tonight; it’s still childproofed for when my niece visits.”
“Right, yes, makes sense, ok,” Gaster mutters as he heads out the door, awkwardly adjusting his hold on the kid. At least he had the good sense to have swinging doors in a lab , Grillby thinks, watching him leave with a soft sigh and a smile before looking down at the sleeping kid huddled against his chest.
Kids, huh? He hadn't really thought of the idea much, but seeing the content on the babybones faces, with Gaster and himself... It fills him with HOPE.