Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Flowey slept.

That was one of the many skills he picked up while bored out of his mind for years: sleeping for days at a time. He could give even that smiley trashbag a run for his money.

He'd hidden himself away in the ruins as the monsters made their exodus to the surface. He didn't want to go to the surface. He didn't even want to see it. All he wanted was to stop feeling so goddamn guilty.

He realized belatedly that he was, in fact, awake. It was getting hard to tell anymore. With a huff he folded his petals back over his face and hunkered down amongst the other golden flowers. Its been, what, a week? Two? How long did his conscience intend to linger? He curled his petals tighter, as though he could squeeze the lingering soul energy out of himself. Not much longer. Surely. Not much l--

Footsteps thundered into the cavern, followed almost immediately by a booming, grating voice.

"GREETINGS, FLOWERY!! IT IS I, THE GREAT--

Flowey froze. Oh god. What was he doing here?? His face was still covered so he could not see the intruding skeleton, but he could feel his presence. Why was he here?! This is the last thing Flowey needs. ...at least that idiot seemed to have decided against monologing. Hooray for small favors.

After a moment of hesitation Flowey heard Papyrus approach the flower bed. A shuffle of movement, which Flowey guessed unhappily was the sound of the monster crouching.

"GREETINGS, FLOWER!" the skeleton declared with no discernible change in tone or volume. "I AM LOOKING FOR MY FRIEND. HE IS ALSO A FLOWER! HAVE YOU SEEN HIM?"

Flowey hazarded a peek. Papyrus had indeed knelt next to the flowerbed and was now staring expectantly at one of Flowey's inanimate neighbors. In the back of his mind Flowey wondered just how stupid one monster can be, but mostly he was concerned with the fact that Papyrus was seeking him out.

"DO NOT WORRY, FLOWER!" Papyrus boomed at length. "THE GREAT PAPYRUS UNDERSTANDS IF YOU CANNOT SPEAK. I WILL SIMPLY ASK SOMEONE ELSE!"

The skeleton grinned broadly at the lifeless flower as though they had just had a long and stimulating conversation before shuffling a few inches to the side and addressing its neighbor. "GREETINGS, FLOWER! I AM LOOKING FOR MY FRIEND."

Oh god. He's going to ask every single flower here. This is psychological warfare, isn't it? Flowey debated silently as Papyrus repeated his spiel, word for word. This is fine. He'll just wait it out. Papyrus would have to give up sometime.

The skeleton shuffled again. "GREETINGS, FLOWER!"

Nope nope nope he can't do this. He unfurled his petals fully and snarled, "Don't you have anything better to do?!"

Papyrus looked up in surprise. His grin broadened, which honestly should have been impossible. He opened his toothy mouth to speak, but stopped himself, suddenly looking uncharacteristically nervous.

Flowey's annoyance was beginning to give over to curiosity. He watched as the monster lept to his feet and cleared his throat in a very businesslike manner.

"FLOWY!" he announced.

"Flowey."

"FLOWEY!" He paused, though it wasn't clear if this was for dramatic effect or if he was trying to recall the words to a previously prepared speech. "ALLOW ME TO TELL YOU ABOUT SOME COMPLEX FEELINGS. FEELINGS LIKE... THE REALIZATION THAT YOUR FRIEND WAS NEVER TRULY YOUR FRIEND. THE FEELING OF HAVING FAILED THEM AS AN ALMOST-FRIEND BY NOT REALIZING THIS SOONER. THE DESIRE TO MAKE IT UP TO THEM."

"THESE FEELINGS... THEY MUST BE WHAT YOU ARE FEELING RIGHT NOW!"

Flowey stared, dumbstruck, as Papyrus steamrollered on.

"FRISK HAS INFORMED ME THAT YOU DO NOT HAVE A SOUL, AND SO YOU CANNOT BRING YOURSELF TO CARE ABOUT ANYONE, AND YOU CANNOT FEEL THE JOYS OF FRIENDSHIP. BUT ALL THAT MEANS IS THAT I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS! MUST WORK EXTRA HARD TO BE YOUR FRIEND!"

He plopped himself onto the ground in front of the speechless flower and produced a plastic container of something red and lumpy. ..had he been keeping that in his ribcage??

"TO START WITH, I HAVE BROUGHT SOME OF MY WORLD, FAMOUS SPAGHETTI!" His voice dropped almost a full decibel as he explained, "I WOULD HAVE MADE FRESH SPAGHETTI FOR YOU BUT TORIEL IS INSISTING THAT I DO SOMETHING WITH THE LEFTOVERS BEFORE COOKING MORE..."

Papyrus cracked open the container, and the stench of spaghetti that was not only made by Papyrus but left in the fridge for days was enough to startle Flowey out of his stupor.

"Why?"

Papyrus looked up.

"You just said it yourself: you know I don't care about you. Or anyone." He shifted to one of his more menacing faces. Scare him off. "Caring about people only gets you killed."

Papyrus seemed completely unfazed by this, much to Flowey's annoyance. "THAT MAY BE WHAT YOU THINK! BUT LITTLE DO YOU KNOW, THE GREAT PAPYRUS CARES ABOUT MANY PEOPLE, AND HAS NOT DIED ONCE!"

Flowey, with some difficulty, kept his mouth shut. He suspected it would take so long to explain resetting to Papyrus that the threat would be lost.

"I WILL PROVE TO YOU THAT FRIENDSHIP AND DEATH ARE NOT MUTUALLY INCLUSIVE, BY BEING YOUR FRIEND! PROPERLY!"

Before Flowey could decide how to respond to this, Papyrus produced a spoon and scooped out a heap of spaghetti. Flowey recoiled.

"Put that anywhere near me and you die," he hissed.

Papyrus stared for a moment.

"YOU MEAN TO SAY... YOU ARE RESISTING MY PROFESSIONAL COOKING... BECAUSE YOU WANT THAT BADLY FOR ME TO HAVE IT INSTEAD?" The skeleton pressed his hands against his cheekbones, looking like he might cry from joy. The spaghetti dripped from the spoon onto his skull.

"WOWIE..." he said in awe. "ITS ALREADY WORKING! I MUST TRULY BE THE BEST FRIEND IN THE UNDERGROUND!" He raised a hand as though to pat or grab Flowey, and as neither of those options sounded pleasant in the least he snarled at the skeleton until he thought better of it.

"IT WAS GREAT TO SPEAK WITH YOU AGAIN! I WILL RETURN TOMORROW, AND CONTINUE TO BE YOUR COOL FRIEND!" With that he sprinted from the cavern, his stupid laugh echoing through the cavern long after he left.

Flowey stared after him. That was... certainly.. something? He wondered if the skeleton really was going to come back. Of course he is, he thought with a grimace. He doesn't mess around about this stuff.

Well... at the very least, things were about to become somewhat more interesting.

Alphys watched curiously as Papyrus jogged back through Snowdin, laughing like a maniac. What on earth could he be up to? She didn't exactly feel like they were good enough friends to just walk up and ask, though. And besides, she's got work to do.

After double-checking she had the right address more out of habit than uncertainty, she knocked hesitantly on the door--and was immediately knocked back by a slimy grey mass.

Her cry of alarm turned into a laugh as Endogeny rubbed its hollow face against hers. A low rumbling sound rose from the hole, which she was fairly sure was a happy noise.

"H.. hey Dodgey," she wheezed. "Y-you're kinda crushing me."

The amalgamate stepped off of her and she gasped and scrambled to her feet. It looked at her expectantly. She ruffled its sticky fur, and it leaned into it.

"Good to see you too."

A few other dogs soon emerged, and Alphys began the usual survey. How's the amalgamate doing? Is it eating? Sleeping? Has it spoken at all? (as far as Alphys knew Endogeny has never spoken in its entire existence but she felt she should ask anyway) Is there anything out of the norm happening in their lives, and how is it affecting the amalgamate? Have you noticed anything unusual about the amalgamate?

According to the dogs Endogeny is perfectly happy and healthy, and adjusting well to life outside the lab. Alphys takes another look at the amalgamate and finds nothing to the contrary. As usual, Endogeny insists that she cannot leave without playing fetch with it, which turns into playing fetch with all of the dogs. Its routine now.

After fetch she bids them farewell and reviews her notes. Dodgey was the last one for today, and all the amalgamates seem in perfect health. In fact, they seem to be doing much better since being sent back to their families, but she supposed that shouldn't be too surprising: living in secret in a crowded, dingy laboratory, or living at home with the people they love.

She rode with the riverperson back to Hotland. She entered the lab and was greeted by several shivering, floating, many-faced, grey masses. The Memoryheads.

She hadn't sent all the amalgamates back--the Memoryheads, she figured, weren't combinations of individual monsters so much as leftover goop that sloughed off of the other amalgamates. Because of this, they don't actually remember who they were or where they belong. They just are.

And seem perfectly content to stay in the lab.

"H-hey guys," she said, smiling tiredly. She dug around in her pockets and produced some small bags of chisps. Ranch flavored this time. The distorted screeching that filled the air informed her that was either an excellent choice or a very poor one.

"You guys feel like chisps and anime later?" she asked. The Memoryheads all rushed forward and each absorbed a bag of chisps before settling at her computer desk.

"I-- I didn't mean right now! I, I still have to type up my notes--"

Many pairs of eyes looked at her expectantly. She sighed and laughed softly. "Alright," she said, settling in her computer chair. "But just a few episodes, alright?"

Not really having heads to nod, the Memoryheads simply bobbed up and down in agreement.

She started playing a new episode. She was tired. The families of the amalgamates had decided to stay in the Underground to avoid scaring the humans, and for Alphys that meant trekking across the Underground every other day to make sure all the amalgamates are doing okay. But it was good to get some exercise for a change. And the amalgamates are all happy, and the families are always pleased to see her. No more secrets. No more lies. For the first time in years, she could relax.

Chapter Text

Papyrus did indeed return the next day, armed with yet more leftover spaghetti and a small, brightly colored cardboard box.

"DID YOU KNOW THE HUMANS HAVE PUZZLES TOO?" he said, plopping himself down in front of Flowey. "THEY DON'T INCLUDE SPIKES, THOUGH. AND DON'T EVEN OPEN DOORS OR THREATEN BODILY HARM! SOMEONE'S GOT TO TEACH THEM HOW PUZZLES REALLY WORK."

He flipped the box upside down, showering Flowey with jigsaw puzzle pieces.

"FRISK INFORMED ME THAT TO SOLVE THESE PUZZLES, YOU MUST ARRANGE THE PIECES INTO A PICTURE. THIS SHOULD BE SIMPLE FOR TWO PUZZLE MASTERS SUCH AS OURSELVES!"

He immediately began snatching puzzle pieces from the surrounding flowers and arranging them between himself and Flowey, muttering to himself. Flowey just watched. There was no real point in humoring the childish monster anymore, but there also wasn't much point to chasing him away either. Flowey was simply curious how long he would keep up this fruitless endeavor.

"AHA!" Papyrus leaned back, crossing his arms proudly. "THIS SIMPLE HUMAN PUZZLE WAS NO MATCH FOR THE GREAT PAPYRUS!"

He had indeed arranged the pieces into a picture: it was unmistakably himself wearing sunglasses and serving spaghetti to Sans and Undyne and all the rest of them. This was impressive, as according to the picture on the puzzle box it was actually supposed to be a forest scene.

The next day he brought a rubix cube, which he insisted Flowey keep. "WHAT DO YOU DO HERE ALL BY YOURSELF ANYWAY? DON'T YOU GET BORED OR LONELY? (NOT THAT I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WOULD KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT THAT, AS I HAVE ALWAYS HAD A GREAT MANY FRIENDS TO SPEND TIME WITH)"

The next day Papyrus found flowey's rubix cube, but no Flowey. The ex-monster was getting tired of Papyrus's shouting, and was curious just how dedicated he is to this. Very, it turns out--the skeleton just about turned over the entire underground in his search for his "friend." It was almost... amusing. Yes, definitely amusing, to watch his features gradually distort with sadness, worry, confusion. It was hilarious. Flowey finally allowed himself to be found because he simply couldn't take that much humor.

The next day he waited in his usual spot in the ruins, as Papyrus made him promise to many, many times. The monster still insisted on bringing leftover spaghetti, though he has yet to get Flowey to try any. This time, to distract him from trying yet again to shove barely edible pasta down his throat, he asked how the surface was. That certainly did distract him: Papyrus talked for almost an hour. Monsterkind had been recieved more warmly than expected: many had been anticipating another war, but none came. Of course, the transistion hadn't been entirely smooth, and many monsters were electing to remain in the Underground until this tension blows over, but for the most part things were looking up. Papyrus, Sans, Toriel, and Frisk now owned a house on the surface and lived together, and was now being taught to cook by Toriel as well as Undyne (which was somewhat confusing for him, as their styles of both teaching and cooking were radically different). Frisk and several monster children were attending school, and Papyrus was proud to report that Frisk was recieving excellent grades and that he had finally earned permission to make their school lunch.

He went on, but Flowey stopped listening. Instead, he found himself noting with satisfaction that the gnawing guilt that had been a constant presence for the past few weeks was finally subsiding. It seemed last bit of soul energy was finally dissipating.

The next day...

Nobody came.

Flowey waited. It wasn't like Papyrus to be late. But he supposed it shouldn't be entirely unexpected either--he probably just got distracted by something. He'll be here soon.

He waited.

Maybe he finally got his pasta-making privileges back from Toriel, and he wanted to make some just before he left to make sure it's as fresh as possible.

And waited.

He fiddled with his rubix cube as the single beam of sunlight crawled across the floor. Stupid thing. It's probably impossible. That jerk gave him a crack gift and just up and left. He turned the pieces more aggressively. He just forgot about Flowey. Or he finally realized how ridiculous he was being and stopped coming out of sheer embarassment. Its fine. Its. Fine.

He turned the pieces too fast and the cube slipped from his grip. With a snarl he punted it across the ground--and almost nailed Frisk right in the face.

The human, as usual, dodged deftly--the cube sailed past them and shattered against the stone floor behind them. Great, now there goes his other boredom repellent!

"What do you want?" he spat.

Frisk told him that Papyrus wanted them to come.

"What? Why?"

Frisk told him Papyrus is sick.

Fear jolted unexpectedly through his system. "What do you mean 'sick?' Since when does he let that stop him?"

Undyne challenged him to an eating contest, apparently. Frisk and Toriel put them both under house arrest until they can walk straight. Or at all. So Papyrus at least wanted Frisk to come and let Flowey know.

As Frisk relayed this he began to calm down. But the last bit of information got him riled again: "Well you sure took your time!"

Frisk didn't think he would care, so they didn't bother to hurry. They guess they were wrong.

Flowey stopped short. He hoped he didn't betray how carefully he chose his next words. "It's not like there's anything else interesting down here anymore. Is that all you came for?"

Frisk was silent, maintaining eye contact for an uncomfortably long time. Finally, they nodded and left.

As soon as the human was gone Flowey let the mask drop. He was sweating, breathing shaky and shallow.

He doesn't care. He doesn't care at all. He only values Papyrus because his irritating voice and childish logic was better than the hours of silence. He only cared about the toy because it served the same purpose, not because it was given by a friend, because he doesn't have any friends, because he doesn't care, he doesn't find that stupid skeleton endearing, or care about his well-being, or-- or...

There was a burning sensation in the base of his stem, right where he figured his chest would be. It felt tight, like it was being constricted--no, full. Full to bursting.

His leaves shook. Pieces were rapidly falling into place, like one of that skeleton's stupid jigsaw puzzles. But no. That wasn't possible. It wasn't possible!

Anxiety gripped tighter.

Fine!! He'll check. Just to prove to himself that it's impossible, that this is nothing.

When he was still working for Alphys, he learned a little trick. He hasn't had to use it since, but he should still remember...

He held his leaves out in front of him, closed his eyes, and concentrated.

It should only take a moment, but he hesitated. Finally, he peeked.

It was a pathetic thing. Its dull surface was spiderwebbed with cracks. It gave off about as much light as a single ember. Even the way it hovered seemed sad: bobbing slowly, subtly. But it was unmistakable.

It was a soul.

Flowey stared.

He shrieked and flung it away.

Chapter Text

The instant the soul left his hands leaves it shuddered, cracks started to deepen. Without even thinking he dove and scooped it back up.

Shit.

Shit!

He took it back into himself, beginning to shudder almost as badly as it had. This is the last thing he needed. He wanted to lose the compassion and crap, not gain some of his own! Not that this even was is own, probably--who the heck's soul is this?!

He took the soul back out and studied it. Not only was it a soul, it was a monster soul--a human soul would have at least been useful! And by the looks of it, this isn't even a healthy soul. All thing would do for him is make him feel like shit, which it has already been doing a superb job of, apparently.

He wanted to fling it again, let it shatter and be done with it. But he knew he wouldn't be able to. As far as his self-preservation instincts are concerned, this is his. And he's spent enough time fighting with self-preservation since breaking the barrier to know that it's not something he can overcome.

That's fine. That's okay. He'll figure out another way.

Flowey poked his head through a gap in the tiles.

"Alphys?"

The name echoed weakly through the lab.

He'd come up with a couple ways to deal with the soul. This was the first. He wasn't thrilled to be here again, but Alphys deals with soul stuff. She's bound to have something for him.

...it'd help if she was here, though.

He withdrew into the floor and tried again on the next floor down. And the next. How many floors does one lizard need? And some of these look like they haven't seen use in years. With a sigh of frustration he skipped to the lowest level.

"Alphys?"

The name echoed hollowly through the empty halls. He doubted she was here. She's probably on the surface, or visiting her beasts across the underground, or who knows where! That's fine. It's fine. There's gotta be a way to do it himself.

He began searching, and almost immediately came face to faces with a floating blob of dust and DT. A memoryhead, he thinks these ones are called? It watched him curiously with its dozens of amorphous eyes.

Flowey put on his most innocent, warmest smile. "Well howdy! You don't happen to know where Dr. Alphys is, do ya?"

The amalgamate did not respond. They stared into each other's eyes for a bit before Flowey gave up and went back to scouring the lab, paying no mind to his new slimey shadow. Now let's see: the DT extraction machine? He supposed that could destroy the soul, but it would probably destroy him too. That's something he'd rather avoid. Has she got any of those soul canisters lying around? Maybe he could just drop it off. There were none to be found, though: guess they never bothered to make more than seven. He couldn't really fault them that. Oh! What about the other flowers?

He popped up in a pot among other the other test flowers (finally losing the amalgamate that was following him). Wow. This takes him back. Flowey shook his head to clear his thoughts; no time for memory lane. He summoned the soul and shoved it into the nearest flower. For a happy moment he thought that would actually be enough, but after a second or two the soul drifted back out. Damn. Seems monster souls are just as unwilling to attach to something inanimate as human souls.

He made a noise between a sigh and a snarl as he snatched the soul back. Fine. He'll just wait for Alphys to come back and--

A staticky shriek clawed the air, only to be cut short as suddenly as it started. Flowey froze.

Now that he was listening he noticed more sounds drifting through the air. Soft whimpers. A noise like a snake slithering over dry leaves. Labored, ragged breaths.

A shape emerged in the doorway. It was huge, lumbering, its breathing heavy and rattling. It shuffled, or slithered, or crawled--the darkness made it difficult to tell. And Flowey didn't care: however it was moving, it was moving directly towards him.

He should go. He should disappear into the soil, or he should try to scare it away. But he didn't. He simply watched its labored approach. What is this? An amalgamate? Alphys having a really bad day? And why did it feel like he should know..?

It whispered something between strained breaths, which Flowey could not make out. It started spasming, or coughing, or... laughing?

The lights overhead flared to life, only to burst with a shower of sparks. For a split-second its face was illuminated, and

Flowey fingered the new patch on his face. It was still sore, and he had been informed it would not heal completely. Well.. still. It could have been worse.

A dripping white hand bore down on him. Flowey ducked and the hand closed around the flower next to him instead, which began wilting immediately. The thing ripped the flower out of the soil and tossed it. It spoke again, and Flowey understood it perfectly.

He abandoned his flowerpot, just as the creature howled and threw its whole weight against it. He reemerged in another pot just in time to see soil and ceramic shards shower the table. He yelped as a shard nicked one of his petals, dangerously close to his face.

It spoke again, and Flowey was terrified.

He ducked into another pot as the thing swiped at his, knocking it over and spraying yet more dirt across the room. It turned its face to him again, and Flowey finally gathered his wits enough to decide maybe perhaps he should try running away. It snatched at him again but only caught empty air; he had ducked into the soil and did not reemerge.

He shook like a leaf, and no that is not a pun. He took a breath to steady himself. He was being stupid. It was probably just an amalgamate. A few bullets would have been enough to scare it off.

But what was with that weird memory...? He's never had an injury like that, at least not since gaining the power to reset. But it happened. It was real. He could remember it, plain as day. It never happened.

Flowey shook his head. It's just amalgamate weirdness, and nothing more. Still, he wasn't particularly keen on returning to a place where something very dearly wants to kill him. So asking Alphys is off the table. Time for plan B.

He realized belatedly that he was now in what has become his usual spot in the ruins. Well. He's got a while to go, then.

"Frisk!!"

The human looked down in surprise at the flower.

"I need your help." Before they could respond he summoned the soul and held it out. "I need you to take this!"

They stared at the soul for a long moment.

"Look don't think about it, just take it!" He shoved the soul towards them. They backed up, shaking their head. They asked where it came from.

"I don't know!! I--"

They asked if it's his.

"No! It's not mine, and I don't want it, please Frisk, just--"

His voice broke and faltered. He took a shaky breath.

Frisk studied him as he struggled to compose himself. At length, they settled onto the floor. They wanted to hear the whole story.

Flowey laughed hysterically. "There is no story. I just have it. I don't know where it came from, or why I have it, or..." God, was he crying? He wiped the tears angrily from his face. "I just want it gone."

Frisk asked a question.

"...'why?' Why do I want it gone?! Oh let me count the ways!" he shrieked. "What am I supposed to do when I get all my love and compassion and all that hallmark card crap back? Just waltz up to everyone like 'Howdy, it's your best friend Flowey! Sorry I tried to kill you and steal your souls earlier! Sorry I actually DID kill you and steal your souls! But dooooon't worry, I'm all better now!' And what am I supposed to do about Toriel and Asgore?! Just tell them I'm their long-lost son, Alphys turned me into a soulless flower, so sorry for missing your birthdays?! And what am I supposed to do about--!"

He looked up sharply as Frisk raised a gentle finger to his proverbial chin.

They told him it's going to be alright. They told him it's not as bad as he thinks. They told him they're happy for him.

They also told them that if it's not his soul, the two of them should maybe consider finding out whose it is.

He shuddered and drew away from the human. He touched a leaf his face without even thinking about it as he recalled the words that thing had said.

"Yeah," he said at length. "Yeah, maybe."

Frisk smiled and told him they're going to go tell Toriel they're going for a walk. But when they came back, Flowey was gone.

"Hey guys!" Alphys called as the lab door slid shut behind her. "Sorry I didn't come back sooner, Undyne--"

The memoryheads nearly bowled her over. They pressed their amorphous bodies against hers, whimpering and shivering.

She stared. They have never acted like this. Hesitantly, she began to pat one. "Wh.. What's wrong? What happened?"

The bursts and pops of static confirmed their distress, and nothing more.

"H-hold on, lemme get my phone--" She wriggled her phone out of her pocket and hit the call button, and flung it in alarm as it erupted in a cacophony of voices.

She stared at the phone as it wailed, voices screaming over each other until none were intelligible.

"G-guys--!" she tried to shout over the noise, "I-- I can't hear--"

Finally she shoved the amalgamates off and slammed the phone shut. She just stared at it, heart racing, as the memoryheads huddled close again. The silence hung in the air, thick and heavy.

Not knowing what else to do, she returned their embrace. Whatever it was that had happened, she'll have to figure it out once they've calmed down.

Flowey listened idly to the incoherent babble of voices. He was in the one place he was almost certain he would not be found: the echo flower field. Most people find it unsettling, Papyrus included, and avoid it whenever possible. It was the perfect place to hide.

He folded his petals over his face. He was exhausted. Since when was having a soul so tiring? He just wanted to sleep. He wanted to wake up and realize all this was a dream. He drifted from consciousness as the blue flowers whispered overhead.

nonono this was supposed to work. This has to work! I just need to--

...

...oh no.

An explosion. Flowey had no time to react before shrapnel cleaved his head in two.

"FLOWEY?"

Papyrus hovered over the shuddering, sleeping flower. Flowey was wincing, babbling incoherently, tears rolling down his cheeks. This is why he can't understand why people insist on napping! Papyrus had to wake him up, but he knew Flowey hated to be touched. So he settled for the next best thing.

"FLOWEY, WAKE UP!"

Flowey yelped and jumped back, as much as he could while rooted to the ground. His leaves flew to his head and clutched it, as though afraid it was about to fall apart.

"I'M SORRY TO WAKE YOU, BUT YOU WERE HAVING A NIGHTMARE!"

"A.. a nightmare, yeah..." he panted. He was still staring at the ground, holding a leaf over his right eye.

"ARE YOU ALRIGHT?" Papyrus asked. "IF YOU WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT, I--"

"No, it's fine," Flowey interrupted a little too quickly, voice a little too flat.

Papyrus hesitated. "It's fine," the tall flowers hummed. "It's fine."

"WELL.. IF YOU'RE SURE," he conceded, reluctantly.

The silence stretched between them. "If you're sure. It's fine. Talk about it. It's sure. If you're fine."

"WELL!" Papyrus hopped to his feet. "IF YOU'RE DONE NAPPING, THEN I SAY ITS TIME WE GET OUT OF THIS CREEPY FIELD!"

"Sure," Flowey mumbled, still not looking up at him.

Papyrus bounded off. Flowey did not follow.

He was used to nightmares. He was not used to nightmares like that.

It'd felt like... more like a vivid memory he'd been forced to live through again. He'd known what was happening. What was going to happen. He tried to fight it. He didn't want to live through that again. But he couldn't change anything.

But it'd never happened at all.

"Creepy field. Sure. Done napping. It's creepy well. Talk about fine."

"...FLOWEY?"

He looked up. The babbling flowers had masked Papyrus's footsteps as he came back.

"I COULDN'T HELP BUT NOTICE YOU DID NOT COME WITH ME." He paused as Flowey scowled and looked down again. He looked worried. "...ARE YOU SURE YOU DON'T WANT TO TAL--"

"No, I don't want to talk," Flowey said coldly. "Least of all to you."

"Least of all to you. Least of all to you."

"...AH. I.. VERY WELL THEN."

Flowey could no longer see his face but could hear the hurt in his voice. Guilt stabbed at him. And that made him angry.

"I SEE NOW THAT YOU WOULD RATHER BE ALONE, SO I! THE GREAT PAPYRUS!! WILL... COME BACK TOMORROW?"

"Don't bother."

He was tired. He was so tired.

Papyrus was quiet for a long moment, fidgeting with his gloves. "I'LL GIVE YOU YOUR SPACE," he said, as gentle as seemingly possible for him. He hesitated, wanting to say more, but decided against it.

He retreated into the thick, whispering flowers.

Flowey wanted to yell after him. He wanted to tell him this was all his fault. He wanted to scream and shout, he wanted to make Papyrus feel as awful as he does.

He listened silently to his fading footsteps.

He didn't have the heart anymore.

Chapter Text

Papyrus sat hunched over the table, studying the small plastic pieces of the broken rubix cube. Surely this shouldn't be too hard to fix. It'll be like a puzzle. A puzzle of a puzzle.

"hey bro," came a sleepy voice. "whatcha got?"

Papyrus looked up distractedly, but snapped out of it at the sight of his brother. "SANS! ITS LATE! I THOUGHT YOU'D BE NAPPING BY NOW."

The small skeleton pulled up a chair next to him. "eh, couldn't sleep."

"YOU? UNABLE TO SLEEP?" he echoed incredulously. "OH NO! THE ENDTIMES ARE UPON US!"

Sans chuckled. Papyrus waited for him to make a pun or joke, but none came.

"so did that cube owe you money?"

"TOYS DON'T CARRY MONEY, SILLY! THEY USE THE ATM. AND IT WASN'T ME WHO BROKE IT: I'M FAIRLY CERTAIN IT WAS FLOWEY."

His brother's expression darkened slightly. "flowey, huh? so you're still talking to him?"

"TRYING TO, YES." Concern creeped into his voice. "HE SEEMS TO BE HAVING A BAD DAY, THOUGH, SO, I'M GIVING HIM SPACE."

"yeah, everyone's happy: 'course he's upset."

"SANS!"

Sans waited for a lecture, but none came. Papyrus simply continued fidgeting with the broken pieces, keeping his eyes away from him.

"...so you still think you can get through to him?"

"ABSOLUTELY," Papyrus said firmly. "IN FACT I AM ALREADY SEEING A CHANGE IN HIM!"

"really. is that why he told you to leave him alone?"

"EVERYONE HAS BAD DAYS." He looked like he was about to say more, but stopped himself. Silence settled between them.

Sans stood up with a grunt.

"welp. its about time both of us got to bed."

Papyrus frowned slightly and didn't answer, still not looking at him. Sans's grin tightened with concern. He placed a gentle hand on his brother's shoulder; Papyrus paused at the touch.

"c'mon, bro. that thing'll still be there in the morning."

A moment passed. Papyrus hesitated, then nodded silently and got up to follow. Just before they leave the room, though, he piped up:

"OH! I JUST REMEMBERED, DO YOU HAVE A SPARE KEY TO THE WORKSHOP?"

Sans's face went blank. "the workshop?"

"YES! I STOPPED BY THE OLD HOUSE TO SEE IF I COULD FIND ANY TOOLS FOR THIS, ONLY TO DISCOVER I HAVE LOST MY KEY!"

"..oh. heh. i'd let you use mine, but... i actually lost it too."

"OH NO!" Papyrus cried. "HOW WILL WE EVER GET IN THERE, THEN?"

"don't sweat it bro, it's nothing to get keyed up about."

"SANS!"

He chuckled. "let's get this figured out tomarrow, alright? i'm bone tired."

Papyrus groaned loudly. "ONE OF THESE DAYS I'M GOING TO GET YOU A JOKEBOOK, JUST SO YOU CAN AT LEAST STOP REUSING THE SAME PUNS!!!"

"you mean you're.. bone tired of my puns?"

"SANS OH MY GOD THAT IS LITERALLY THE SAME PUN YOU JUST MADE I CAN'T BELIEVE--"

Sans laughed tiredly and waved his brother goodnight as they retired to their respective rooms, Papyrus still muttering about overused jokes.

Alphys knocked anxiously as the memoryheads hovered around her legs. They had refused to stay at the lab without her, and they still would not tell her what was wrong. Her tail curled around her ankles as she pounded on the door again, almost punching Aaron in the face as the door suddenly swung open.

"Alphys!" he neighed. "I was just about to come looking for you." He was grinning, but not his usual gross flirty smile. It was strained.

"I-- wha?" She shook her head. "I need to check on Lemon Bread, something's wrong--"

"Yeah, I know. That's the problem." He let out something between a nervous laugh and a whinny. "Lemon's gone."

"G-gone?!" The memoryheads huddled closer. "What do you mean, gone?"

"Th-they're just gone. We can't find them anywhere."

Alphys rubbed her face. No. No no no nonononono this can't be happening. "When did you last see them?"

"Last I saw 'em was after your last visit. They went home with Shyren but, I don't think it coulda been too long after that.."

A day. It's only been day. Alphys tried to calm herself. Lemon Bread was always more of a free spirit than the others. Maybe they just wanted to be on their own for a while. They'll be fine. It'll be fine.
Alphys took a deep, shaky breath. "Okay just-- keep looking for them. I'll-- I'll-- I'll see what I can do."

She sprinted back to the river without another word. 

Flowey felt like he was in a limbo. He was utterly spent: these last few days had robbed him of every scrap of energy he had left. He wanted to sleep for a decade or two, and maybe by then he'd be ready to face the world again. And yet he couldn't even attempt to sleep-- not with the guilt that smoldered in his proverbial chest. He hadn't even actively antagonized the skeleton this time, and yet the look of hurt Papyrus had given him felt like it had been burned into his retinas. He took the soul out and glared daggers into it. This was all it's fault. None of this would have happened if it had just--

Flowey's stare weakened from venomous to deadpan. Even after all of this, he still had no idea where the soul had even come from. Disembodied souls don't exactly grow on trees, and monster souls can't even be isolated without killing the monster they came from, right? Whatever poor sap lost their soul is probably dead. But if that was the case...

In the back of his mind he saw the thing from the lab. Its streaked face, its wild eyes, its misshapen mouth gaping in hideous silent laughter... He could almost hear its words whispered in the babble of the echo flowers around him.

give it back

give it back

g i v e i t b a c k