It's unexpected. Shepard has always been a touchy person- the military doesn't give much space for hugs, and having no life outside the service meant her physical contact was usually restricted to handshakes and shoulder bumps in the field. She had to train herself not to mess with the kids- her first meeting with Frisk was equally disasterous in that right- even if she's always wanted it.

So they step forward. Two, two, together. And she blinks as they snuggle into her stomach, and she looks down at them for a few seconds.

And then, Frisk can feel it. The way she grins and laughs, a chuckle into her stomach as she leans down to gently pet their hair, kneels so she can take them into a proper hug. It's a little more desperate than it's been before, something clinging and reaching for another well of hope, of determination going forward.

"Kid, I wanna be wherever you are." She wants to imagine it, for just a moment- her and Toriel, in a quiet house somewhere in a grassy field. Frisk, Chara, and Asriel, alive and well, getting to grow up and thrive. No more of this. No more of the cruel but inevitable future.

"Thanks, Frisk. Really."