Chapter Text
During his retirement, Papa Emeritus the First turned his hobby of gardening into a full-time job. He would spend hours out in the sun weeding out flowerbeds or harvesting seasonal fruits and vegetables that went directly to the Abbey's kitchen. He was happy, and that was all that mattered.
So it wasn't often that Papa wanted to take a trip out. And even less often that he asked to be accompanied.
Yet, here you were, sitting quietly in the driving seat of one of the clergy's hearses as you watch Papa in his big sun hat browse beautiful plants. He had been looking at them for about an hour now, the beaming sun causing the leather you sat on to warm up. Papa would complain about it.
Papa leaned down, bringing a blooming flower to his hooked nose and inhaling. As a ghoul you never understood mortals fascinations with floral smells, you always thought they were too strong and just thinking about them made you crinkle your non-existent nose.
Finally, Papa added the last pot to his cart and wheeled it over to the cashier.
As he neared the car, you stepped out and quickly moved to his side; ignoring the strange looks other humans gave you.
"Put these in the backseat, ghoul." Papa commanded, motioning a gloved hand to the pots. "I must hold this one, she needs help."
You eyed the dead plant in his arm, the green leaves dry and brown, but did as ordered. You were careful with each pot, the thin plastic bending under your hands as you transferred each one from the car and to the carpeted floor.
"Why flowers?" You signed to him. Papa glared at you, his white eye glowing despite the sunlight.
"You were not summoned for your questions, ghoul. Back to work." He snapped.
You bowed your head and signed "Sorry, Your Dark Excellency."
With a huff he turned back around in his seat and carefully thumbed the dead leaves.
"I want the Blue Bells and Camellias' out in the sun immediately and the rest of them repotted." Papa said, getting out of the hearse carrying his pot carefully towards his greenhouse. He was always bossy after returning home, especially if he came back with flowers.
Flowers. Flowers!
What did the First Son want with flowers? Flowers were meant for children and mothers and the sick not Servus Servorum Satanae!
In the past you had asked the other ghouls who just shrugged, growling out simple "I don't know"s or "None of our business"s. It made you want to pull your horns off with frustration.
But, you followed Papa's orders. You made sure each of the flowers were pointed towards the sun and put in new pots with new watered soil. It wasn't until almost midnight that you were done.
You entered the greenhouse carrying the last of the pots, the roses petals were tickling the black smoke under your hood and making your tail whip with unpleasantness. Carefully you placed the pot down in front of the misted window and made your way towards Papa.
He still held the same plant from before, no longer in it's cheap plastic pot but now a beautifully carved and glazed terracotta. Magically, the plant somehow looked better. Granted it was still brown and dying, but the change of soil and home seemed to bring some life back to it.
You pulled your gloves off and put them on the shelf next to where Papa sat.
"You asked me 'why flowers?' earlier, ghoul." Papa's voice startled you slightly, it wasn't commanding or sinister as you were used to.
"After humankind's time on Earth, what do you think will cover our buildings and cars?" He asked and waited for an answer.
You throught for a moment and walked around to the chair next to him before shrugging as you sat down and signing "Dust? I don't know."
"Dust!" Papa proclaimed, a slight laugh in his voice. "No, ghoul. The Earth will be taken over by all the life you see here in this greenhouse."
You looked around, taking in each leaf and stem that surrounded you. But they were just benign plants, not evil forces or hostile beings.
You shook your head.
"It's true, plants will cover the Earth again once we are all gone and removed from the surface. They are the one thing that will always outlive everything else. No human or animal can outlive an oak or pine, and nothing will reach up to the sun just as high."
"Plants a beautiful living things, but they are also cruel."
You cocked your head slightly, confused. How could a unmoving, silent life being cruel? It had no hand to curl into a fist, no mouth to yell from, no legs to outrun.
"I see you are confused, ghoul." Papa said, amusement painted across his face. "Let me explain; a plants survival depends on growth, how high can it grow to reach sunlight. But, it is also racing against the other plants around it, trying to grow faster so it's leaves aren't blocked out by anothers."
"A plant will block anothers sunlight so that it may thrive and prosper. Like a human."
You understood now. Plants, despite their initial passive surface, we're just as evil as man; willing to stomp on his own kind to achieve his own greatness.
"These plants here will likely outlive you and I, ghoul. Long after our deaths, they will remain and conquer the Earth, just like our Dark Lord intended."