Error locked eyes with Grillby and stared at him with unmasked shock and confusion carved in his features.

"...WhAt?"

He was, undoubtedly, dumbfounded. Why would a normal monster citizen offer him, the Destroyer, God of Destruction, Anomaly in the Multiverse, their aid? A monster with his wits about them would:
a) scream
b) call Ink and/or the Star Sanses
c) run
d) hide
Or
e) fight back, which was the stupidest course of action one could take.

This.... This was new.

Grillby only waited patiently for a response, drumming his fingers against the polished marble surface. "So? Are you going to order anything?" he asked.

Error's mouth opened and closed a couple of times before giving a proper answer.

"...dO yOu HavE anYtHinG fOr ChiLdRen?," he casually asked as he produced the sleeping skeletons from his coat.

Grillby stumbled.

----•----•----

The Dark Sanses gasped for air.

Over-expending their magic took a toll on them; however, on the bright side, everyone else was down for the count.

All except for Ink, Dream, Geno, Fresh and Blue.

Needless to say, Geno was pissed off. The god of Death loved to visit him on his time off after he figured out that he couldn't die by his touch and flirt with him. Geno shot him down repeatedly.
This time, Geno was prepared for him insufferable verbal sexual assults- however, Reaper had popped into the SAVE screen and dragged him to this dead AU.

He didn't participate in the battle at all, but he couldn't escape or stop the carnage- not with Reaper eying his body from a distance, blowing air kisses at the bleeding skeleton.

Disgusting.

What was even more disturbing than that was the cowardice the whole Multiverse showed when they ganged up on his younger brother.

With the God of Death watching him, there was nothing he could do but watch his dear brother's suffering.

That is, until some decent monsters showed up.

Geno stalked towards the pile of the infamous outlaws, now all heaped together, the ones at the very bottom groaning under the weight.

"Seriously," Killer whined, "Who had the brilliant idea to crush the smallest one??"

-----•----•-----
In all honesty, Grillby was surprised at the stranger's queer voice; it changed pitches randomly, like a really bad voice crack during puberty, and glitched often.

'I swear,' he thought, 'I'm not paid enough to do this bullshit.'

Of course, he wasn't paid at all.

...But that wasn't the point.

His father taught him the fundamentals of tending to a bar, but had never prepared him for a situation such as the one presented before him.

And then he was even less sure of himself when said complicated case revealed two sleeping children from his tattered coat.

Grillby elegantly tripped over himself, efficiently dropping the wooden (thank goodness) mug and rag he was holding.

Sputtering, he rapidly got back onto his feet, flames waving wildly.

"E-excuse me??" he stuttered.

"DO yOu hAve AnyThIng SUtIbLe fOr ChiLdrEn?"

"Y-yes, I believe I have s-some applesauce or some shit like th-that in the back..."

Stars, he hated his stutter that appeared whenever he let down his 'hip' facade.

He turned on his heel and marched to the back of the bar to fetch some sort of kid-friendly food, or at least some soft bread.

In the pantry, he shoved aside some bright ketchup bottles and dog kibble to reveal a few jars of apple puree. Thoughts whirled in his head like a snowstorm, unfocusing him. Gaze distant, he trotted over to the visitor and handed him two yellow plastic spoons and a pair of sweetened applesauce. A strong grip on the containers knocked him out of his mess of a mind.

For the first time, Grillby properly saw the monster and tried not to wince.

Those jaded orbits of his bore deep into his own, seemingly penetrating his most inner thoughts. The many scars accompanying his tall physique made him seem like he had literally been through Hell and back, then dragged through the fiery pits of eternal damnation a hundred times over. His clothes were no more than singed scraps of cloth, glowing blue thread holding the frame together by the seams. A tattered scarf in a slightly better condition was wrapped securely around his neck. Red phalanges woven together held two sleeping children, both looking worse for the wear, especially the older one. Power seemed to be attracted to him, thus allowing him to radiate a menacing aura.

Grillby gulped, shakily handed him the goods, and backed away slowly.

-Time skip-

The fire monster had been watching the odd bunch eat. Well, the children, at least. In spite of himself, some bits were hilarious.

The adult obviously had no experience with little children, but every time he came close or offered his help, it was either turned down or the protective aura he radiated turned downright murderous. The attempts weren't in vain, though: he had managed to convince them to sit at a booth in the corner, but not without thorough inspection (Grillby had a feeling that it wasn't for cleanliness).

Currently, the dark-boned one was fumbling around with the spoon, fingers locking around it as if it was the first time he ever held a spoon. He tentatively moved the utensil to the youngest's mouth, his small bone wings flapping happily. Sloppily handled, most of the food slipped off the spoon, splattering everywhere, a small portion actually landing in the mouth. The gurdian's eye twitched, and he let out a low grumble of frustration.

A quiet sigh escaped Grillby's 'mouth', which was more like a blazing cavern of compressed fire magic. He didn't even know the monster's name, because every question he threw out was answered with a grunt or two. By now, small puddles of food were forming on the ground and he could almost feel the moisture seeping into the floor. He couldn't assist them, so, unwillingly, he made his way to the kitchen.

Before his foot crossed the line formed by the two tones of wood floor, the front door slammed open. A cold voice rang through the small restaurant.

"ꅏꍟ꒒꒒, ꌗ-01ꍏ ꍏꈤꀸ ᖘ-02ꉓ, ꀤ꓄'ꌗ ꓄ꀤꎭꍟ ꎇꂦꋪ ꌩꂦꀎ ꓄ꂦ ꉓꂦꎭꍟ... ꃅꂦꎭꍟ."

---•---

Ink and Dream gaped in pure shock when Geno, one of their most trusted members, walked over to the dark side without even a second's thought.

Geno, who made himself as inconspicuous as possible.

Ink should've suspected ulterior motives.

Geno, who never included himself in their weekly gatherings.

Perhaps he was communicating with the enemy?

Geno, who didn't have a family.

The Multiverse became his.

Geno, who betrayed them.

For once in his immortal life, Ink felt... Sad. Hurt. Angry.

These emotions he was feeling were real, not induced by his ink vials.

It was overwhelming.

The urge to scream, cry, bash his head in and kill someone in cold blood made him twitch with impatience.

---•---

"Look at what the cat dragged in," Nightmare snickered. "Finally giving in?"

The nightmarish monster was laid on top of the heap, orbit lazily scrutinizing Geno.

Smirking, he jumped off, landing on his feet, and said, "Let's go home."

-------
Sorry for the late chapter (｡ŏ﹏ŏ)
I scrapped the first idea and rewrote it- I fond that it's worse, though, but I'm too lazy to do it again -w-

Welp, see you in the next chapter!
Thanks for reading owo

1/03/2020