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In the end, Clover chose to stay.
At the time, he’d been sure that his duty was done. He’d gone through the Underground. He’d learned about the missing kids. He’d made friends and helped them get their lives on track. He felt that he’d done all he needed to do; he was prepared to let his Soul go with no regrets. But when those same friends began pleading, begging for him to stay instead of giving up his Soul (except Ceroba, who didn’t want him to go but respected his decision), he realized that the chance for a better life - not only for himself but for his peers and loved ones - was staring him right in the face.
His moral compass spun wildly as he fought to come to a decision. Did he give up his Soul to help Monsterkind in their efforts to get to the surface? Or did he stay to live a happy, fulfilling life in the hands of those who cared about him?
His intrinsic desires won him over. Soon, the admission that once rested on the tip of his tongue was swallowed back down his throat. His Soul returned to his body. His knees gave out from under him as he was wrapped into a four-way hug that he didn’t want to let go of.
He decided that, just this once, he could be selfish.
He didn’t do it without terms, though. The moment a sixth soul was acquired (he still really hated the idea of killing kids, but he still knew that one more had to die for any progress be made), he would go to the king and present his own as the seventh. By then, his desires would no doubt be fulfilled and he’d feel more comfortable leaving the realm of mortality.
And thus began Clover’s second chance at life.
Surprisingly, Ceroba’s worries about his discovery were unfounded. The Royal Guard - somehow - had learned of his actions to better the Underground. Now, his presence from King Asgore was kept a cross-ground secret - he was treated like a friend to all and no one batted an eye. He suspected that Martlet had something to do with it but she never gave him an answer when he asked.
It at least alleviated his worries about being seen in public. He’d made many trips to different locations of the Underground, from the Ruins to the Steamworks; he felt safe and comfortable every time he was left on his own.
It also helped cement that the Wild East’s bar was his favorite place to kill time.
The bottom of Clover’s glass thunked against the countertop, jostling the soda within. A small amount of his drink swished over the rim of the cup and dribbled down his hand, though he didn’t pay it any mind; his attention was rapt on Dalv, who was soaking up the applause of the entire bar after a wonderful performance on stage. The pipe organ he’d been playing shimmered underneath the bar’s fluorescent lights as if it was proud of itself for a job well done.
“He’s improved, huh?” Ceroba said. The kitsune was sitting next to him, clutching a glass of adult soda in her left paw while resting her head on her right. “Glad to see his confidence has gotten better. He’s good with that thing.”
Martlet, who was sitting next to Ceroba, wrapped up her feverish clapping and returned her attention to the pair. “Yeah, Dalv rocks!” She sat back down and practically threw the rest of her drink down her throat, tilting her head so far back that Clover was afraid she’d break her neck. Thankfully, she didn’t; the avian monster straightened back out and kicked her legs idly, waving to the bartender for a refill. “This is a blast. Thanks for inviting me!”
Ceroba scoffed. “You literally come and go wherever you please. No one invited you here.”
“Well, it still feels polite to say!”
Starlo emerged from behind the curtains and brought Dalv backstage, presumably to help the vampire-like monster change out of his formal attire. Off near the far end of the bar, a random monster threw a dollar coin into the jukebox. A catchy piano melody began to play, radiating an aura of jubilance amongst the bar’s populace. The atmosphere softened as patrons began to talk with one another and returned to their regular activities; drinking themselves silly, playing cards, or whatever else they did for fun. Clover didn’t pay enough attention to understand the regular patrons’ habits.
Clover spared a glance at Ceroba, who didn’t seem to notice his lingering eyes quite yet. She had managed to get over the grief of losing her child and her husband fairly well with his and Starlo’s help. While support groups didn’t exist and therapy was hard to come by, she had still conquered her trauma with the ferocity of a warrior. Her eyes no longer had bags under them, she was no longer as irate as she used to be, and her demeanor overall had improved by leaps and bounds. The two had grown closer as well, with Clover being allowed to have Kanako’s old room for himself whenever he stayed a few nights with her.
Eventually, Ceroba caught on to his staring. Their gazes met. Then, she raised her brow. “You know, that reminds me. You’re three months into your life as a ‘monster’. How are you holding up overall?”
Clover hummed. “Hmm. I’m doing pretty good. This is nice.” He smiled and grasped the rim of his hat, slightly pulling it over his face out of habit. “I love it here.”
“I’m glad to hear it!” Martlet chirped, inserting herself into the conversation without a shred of hesitation. She’d also been doing a lot better - she had quit her job as a Royal Guardswoman and instead took up a job in construction. Her anxiety wasn’t as prevalent now that she was doing something she was comfortable and familiar with; she’d told him so on numerous occasions, usually when they worked together on a project that required more than one set of hands/wings.
“Is what we have going on here better than what you could have on the surface?” Ceroba asked curiously.
Clover shrugged. “Yeah.”
Martlet tilted her head, pensively rubbing her chin with one of her feathers. Her other wing clutched her newly refilled drink. “You know, I’m curious about something. You don’t really talk about the surface much. Or what your life was like, for that matter. Is what we have here so much better? And why not go back instead of choosing to stay here? You could cross the barrier on your own!”
“Martlet, do you really have to ask him this now?” Ceroba said with a sigh, massaging her temples with her index pawpad and her thumb.
“It’s just a question! C’mon, you’re curious about it too!”
Ceroba, pointedly, said nothing. She gave Clover the stink eye when he chuckled, though both her and Martlet’s attention locked onto him when he cleared his throat and began speaking. “In truth, there wasn’t much I could do once I got to the surface,” Clover said lowly, setting his drink down on the veneered wooden surface. “I couldn’t go to the justice building or the police and tell them what I’ve found. Knowing humanity, they’d all panic at the mention of the killed kids - it would spark a wave of outrage. Maybe even another war. I dunno.” He sighed and leaned back in his seat, spinning his empty Wild Revolver around the tip of his finger. The chamber was empty so he didn’t risk accidentally firing a stray round. He always kept it around for safekeeping. “Even then, the human-monster war is a forgotten event. Barely anyone knows what it is and even fewer people had any relatives or ancestors who participated in it. It’s been so long that concepts such as Souls, magic, and Monsterkind as a whole are all… relics. I’ll be honest when I say that I didn’t even know what my Soul was or how it worked until I fell down here.”
Martlet tilted her head. “Huh. That’s… a lot to think about.” Her entire expression suddenly perked up. “But it is also exciting! That means that when we DO get to the surface, it’ll be a clean slate!”
“But humans will be extremely freaked out if they don’t even know we exist,” Ceroba interjected, “so maybe they’ll retaliate harder than the ones who locked us down here did.”
“Must you be such a pessimist?”
“I’m just stating the truth. Or a hypothetical situation. I dunno.”
Clover snorted mirthfully. “Anyway, it’s not just that. I have my own reasons for staying, too. When the surface does inevitably come into reach and I have to give up my Soul… I want to have all the kids documented. Their names. Their stories. People talk, and I’m sure many of them remember the fallen humans in some way. I’ll collect their belongings and store them away so that they can be properly buried with their bodies once the job is done. It’s the least I could do to put their legacy to rest, especially since I’ve already found closure and honored their journeys.”
Ceroba nodded understandingly, drumming the tips of her claws against her glass. “What about your parents? Surely they’re worried about you.”
Clover didn’t respond for a moment. He wasn’t sure how he should phrase his response - he didn’t want to dampen the mood more than he already had. “… it’s been a long time since I last saw them face to face. They both died of natural causes when I was young. My dad was a police officer who got shot while on duty and my mom worked herself to death trying to take care of me. Left to hang out in foster care until I ran away and climbed Ebott.” He shrugged. “I figured that, since I’m 18, no one would want to adopt someone my age. No use lingering.”
“Clover…”
Martlet got out of her seat and wrapped her wings around him, making him stiffen from surprise. “Well, who cares about those other humans anyway? You have us now! We’re your family now - we love you lots, so you don’t have to be alone ever again!”
Ceroba rolled her eyes. “... while I would’ve said it with a bit more tact, yeah. She’s right. We really do care about you, Clover. You’re one of us now, so we have your back.”
For a while, Clover was silent. But he soon wrapped both Martlet and Ceroba into a tender hug, leaning forward to hide his growing smile. “Thanks guys. I love you all too.”