Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Mount Ebott Really Is Beautiful, Papyrus observed. There were trees of all colours and kinds, rich brown dirt, healthy and bright vegetation... overall, the mountain was beautiful. No one would even suspect that there used to be an entire civilization beneath it, with their own ideals, holidays, and culture.

"A-are you nervous too, Papyrus?" Alphys asked tentatively, looking up at him from where he was sitting on the hood of his Very Cool car.

Papyrus smiled brightly, firmly. "THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS NEVER NERVOUS, DR. ALPHYS!" At Alphys' sad-disappointed look, Papyrus quickly continued, "BUT IF YOU OR ANYONE ELSE IS NERVOUS, THE GREAT PAPYRUS WILL NOT JUDGE!"

Alphys smiled gently, a bitter-sweet, nervous thing. "I know, Papyrus. But... i-it's okay for-for you to be nervous, too, y-y'know?"

Papyrus did know. Well, he kind of knew. He understood that, in theory, the others wouldn't mind if he expressed less-than-positive emotions. Then again, that was in theory. And he wasn't quite sure that if he were to start, he could ever stop.

"I KNOW, DR. ALPHYS! BUT THERE IS NO NEED TO WORRY, I AM NOT NERVOUS!" And that was the truth. Papyrus was not nervous, because this was Flowey.

Papyrus knew Flowey. He knew Flowey more than most people knew him. He knew Flowey beyond the "murderous SOULless flower" persona he put on; just as Flowey knew Papyrus beyond the "oblivious mildly narcissistic idiot" persona Papyrus himself held.

"I-if you say so..." Alphys trailed off, eventually turning to watch Asgore, who was pacing back and forth in the dirt parking lot the three of them were standing in.

They had all arrived almost an hour ago and the others still weren't back.

Alphys and Asgore were considering going up the trail to follow them when they finally came down.

"Fucking put me back!" Papyrus heard the screaming voice of Flowey, who was wriggling around in the red pot Frisk had picked out for him.

"no can do, kiddo," Sans responded lightly, a tight grip of blue magic on the flower.

"I told you guys I don't want to be here!" Flowey continued screaming, still trying to escape.

"O-oh..." Alphys whispered under her breath.

"I can see why they took so long," Asgore chuckled, something anxious and sad laced within the sound.

Papyrus fiddled with his gloves, worry seeping it's way into his bones. "UM. IS-IS FLOWERY OKAY?" he called to them.

Oddly enough, Flowey stopped his incessant screaming and struggling at the sound of Papyrus' voice. He kind of just... stared at him. For a really, really long time.

"Where'd your battle body go?" he asked disbelievingly, something almost accusatory in his tone.

(Some time ago, or maybe just a moment ago, or maybe never; a skeleton told a flower that if he ever stopped wearing his battle body, something had changed. Something important. Something down to his very SOUL.)

"OH! WELL, A FEW WEEKS AFTER WE FULLY MOVED TO THE SURFACE, I DISCOVERED THESE THINGS CALLED 'CROP TOPS'! I JUST HAD TO TRY SOME OUT, AND I REALLY LOVED THEM, SO I STARTED WEARING THEM INSTEAD OF MY BATTLE BODY!" Papyrus' voice was as loud and chipper as ever. No one would know how much information he was trying to cram into just a few sentences. "DO YOU LIKE IT?" He posed dramatically. Sillily. Childishly.

Flowey stared at him, realisation dawning on his face.

"No," he whispered, "I really don't."

Papyrus saw the others frown and Undyne get ready to berate Flowey for insulting him, but he just smiled.

"THAT'S OKAY, FLOWERY! YOU'LL GET USED TO IT." He meant that in more ways than one.

I hate it here, Flowey thought for the 50th time that evening.

He had been at the Dreemurr-Skelebros household for less than 12 hours and he was prepared to kill A) himself, or B) everyone else.

Too bad both of those options were literally fucking impossible. Each of them were very careful about where they put him (it seemed like they had designated spots for him) and the pot he had been forced into was just big enough for him to bury himself under the dirt. He was pretty sure that was an accident.

"flowey, you with us?" the smiley trash bag that was Sans asked, giving off the impression of a raised eyebrow.

"What?" Flowey snapped, curling in on himself. Not that they would know that- flower body language wasn't known by many people.

"just checking. we need to have a kinda serious conversation with you," Sans responded, completely and utterly unaffected.

"Okay, and?" At this point Flowey was just being difficult, but still! He didn't want to be here and he was going to make that fucking clear.

Toriel let out a soft sigh from across the table, causing Flowey to realise that everyone was there.

Flowey chuckled darky, a distorted, unnatural sound falling from his lips. "What could be so important that everyone has to be here for it, hm?"

Toriel's face was sad as she spoke, "we only wish to discuss the rules, little one."

Flowey's nose wrinkled when she called him "little one," but he recovered quickly and plastered a scowl onto his face.

"We have a list that you can keep for yourself, as well as a list on the fridge and in your room, which we will show you in a moment." She pushed a flimsy piece of paper over to his pot and Flowey felt his scowl deepen.

Seriously? They're going to make me do this? he thought, already bending over to pick it up with his mouth. Once it was safely propped up on the edge of his pot he started reading it.

1. You will not harm anyone.
   -If you do so, you will have to apologise to them and you will not be allowed to see them for at least a week; with the acceptation of Asgore, Sans, Undyne, and Toriel.

Flowey noticed that Frisk's name wasn't on the list. That was... odd. Or maybe not, if everyone truly thought ey were a small, helpless child.

2. You will not insult anyone.
   -If you do so, you will have to apologise to them and make it up to them in any way they deem fit.

Flowey squinted at the wiggle room said person would have in regards to that particular rule. What if they decided that he would need to go back to the underground?

...actually, that wouldn't be too bad.

3. You will not steal anything.
   -If you do so, you will have to apologise to whoever you stole from, give the stolen item back, and get them a gift.

They liked this whole "apologising" thing, huh?

4. You will not break anything.
   -If you do so, you will have to apologise to whoever owned said thing and get them a new one, as well as an gift.

They really liked the apologising thing.

5. You will not threaten anyone.
   -If you do so, you will have to apologise to them and prove that you will not do such things.

Flowey felt horror creep up his stem as he continued to read.

6. You will not try to run away.
   -If you do so, whatever privileges you have at the time will be removed.

"...I'm not a child."

Frisk looked at him sceptically, though Toriel and Asgore rushed to agree.

"I'm not too sure about that, F-L-O-W-E-Y." All this time and ey still hadn't chosen a sign name for him? "You definitely act like one sometimes."

"Okay, that's just rude," Flowey deadpanned.

"I think trying to kill the entire U-N-D-E-R-G-R-O-U-N-D is worse," ey responded, witty as ever.

"Shut up." Flowey glowered.

"Flowey, are you done reading the list of rules?" Asgore cut in, though not unkindly.

"I guess." He tipped the paper over, the thing fluttering onto the table.

"Wonderful!" Toriel lightly clapped her hands together, the action making little sound. "Undyne, if you would?"

"Hell yeah!" Undyne cheered, getting up from her seat and walking over to a calendar that hang on the wall. "Listen up, punk, because Alphys and Frisk worked really hard on this!"

"Mhm," Flowey hummed, unimpressed.

Undyne glared, but continued, "Frisk and Alphys made this calendar from scratch, just for you! They also made all the stickers, which we'll put on the squares for every day you follow the rules. If you go for a whole week following the rules, you'll get a small reward, like extra dessert or something cheap from the store. If you go a month following the rules you'll get a big prize, like a whole day with someone of your choice-if they're okay with it, of course-or just something special to you."

Flowey stared at the calendar. It was obviously hand-made, though it didn't look awful. The stickers were arrays if smiley faces, sparkles and stars, and different kinds of flowers.

"I am not a child," Flowey repeated loudly.

"We know, Flowey," Asgore reassured, though he sounded confused.

"I'm not!" Flowey replied incessantly.

This time, no one responded, only looking at him with confusions dancing on their faces.

"yeah, kid, we know," Sans said after a few moments of silence.

"Are you fucking serious?" Flowey asked almost hysterically. Sans seemed to notice his mistake and quickly apologised.

"I suppose now is as good a time as any to inform you that no one curses in this house," Toriel said hesitantly.

Again, Flowey just stared at them. Are you fucking serious? he thought. They were acting like he was a child, saying that they didn't think he was, and now they were telling him 'no cursing'?!

Flowey wished, not for the first time, that he was still in the underground. Then, he wouldn't have to deal with all this bullshit. He could just stay in the throne room, rotting along with all the other flowers. Or at Chara's grave.

I hate it here, he thought for the 51st time since being torn out of the ground, forced into a too-small pot, and carried into this new house on the surface against his will.

He felt the urge to cry, and that scared him more than any of... this. He hadn't had the want to cry for many, many resets.

"Fuck. You," he said pointedly said. I don't care and I'm going to make you regret taking me to the surface, he meant. He thought he got his point across pretty well, by the way Sans' eye lights went out and the way Undyne tensed. (He ignored the sad-dissapointed look staining Toriel and Asgore's faces. And the nervousness staining Alphys'.)

"I think we should show you your room, Flowey," Asgore suggested softly. Flowey elected to ignore him. Even as he picked him up and carried him to the living room.

Asgore stopped at the window and dragged the curtains open with his incredibly large hand.

"Here it is, little-" he cut himself off, coughing into his hand. "Flowey."

"Flowey's room" was a window seat. That was actually just it. There were a few other plants (more flowers, but a few succulants and a tiny little tree at the corner), the rules list taped to the wall, and a little pillow and blanket, but it was still actually just a window seat.

"I know it isn't much, but this is the only area we really thought you would like. It was either this or staying in Toriel's room, which we all knew you wouldn't like." Asgore chuckled softly, something that reverberated in Flowey's mind and body.

I hate it here, Flowey thought for the 52nd time since being taken to the Dreemurr-Skelebro's household.

I want Chara, he thought for the 10,053rd time since waking up as a flower.

"Would you like to have some time to yourself? Or would you rather go back to the kitchen?" Asgore asked softly, turning Flowey's pot around so he could look him in the eyes.

"Leave me alone," Flowey snapped harshly.

"Okay. I'll come get you for dinner." Asgore set him on the white, freshly painted window seat, drew the curtains, and left.

I hate it here, Flowey thought for the 53rd time since this mess started.

Chapter Text

Papyrus had been spending a lot of time away from home.

This wasn't because of Flowey- no, Flowey was great!

It was more because of all the change that came with an entire new person being added to their household.

The day after Flowey had been settled in, Asgore, Alphys, and Undyne had each gone to their own houses. Alphys and Undyne lived together in their own little townhouse inbetween their respective jobs (a scientist and a gym instructor) and Asgore lived on his own in an apartment right next to the community garden, though he worked at a conveinence store.

Papyrus worked at a restaurant on Mondays and Wednesdays, helped Undyne at the gym or Toriel at the school on Tuesdays, and was a delivery man for Pizza Hut on Thursdays and Fridays. Sometimes he would pick up odd jobs on the weekends, but that was rare.

Again, Flowey wasn't why Papyrus hadn't been home very often (even though he had broken at least four rules just that week), it was just all the change that came with him.

Papyrus, for however Great he was, did not handle change very well. If you saw him during the first month or so of everyone moving to the surface, you would've thought he was a completely different person.

The Papyrus that was there during the first month of being on the surface was very sad, very irritable, and very scared.

That Papyrus was not very Great, and The Great Papyrus did not want to become him ever again.

Thankfully, The Great Papyrus had found a way to keep That Papyrus away in the form of schedules and sameness.

Flowey moving in had changed the schedules and the sameness.

Again, Flowey was wonderful! Papyrus really was glad that the flower had been brought up to the surface. Flowey just also wasn't very good at adjusting to change. Though, he was a bit more angry and disructive about it than Papyrus was.

(There was also the fact that Flowey didn't want to be there, but everyone else was ignoring it so Papyrus should probably ignore it, too.)

That being said, this was one of the only times he had been home for over an hour in the past few days--aside from night time, of course.

"Papyrus?" He looked up from his Junior Jumble to see Toriel baking a pie.

"YES?"

"Could you help me make the pie crust, please?" she asked kindly. Everything about Toriel was soft, fluffy, and kind.

"OF COURSE!" Papyrus shot up from his seat and started going through the motions.

He got the 1½ cups of all-purpose flour, the ½ cup of vegetable oil, the two tablespoons of milk, 2 teaspoons of white sugar, and one tablespoon of salt.

"I already pre-heated the oven, Papyrus," Toriel said, smiling softly.

"AH! THANK YOU, MISS TORIEL!" Papyrus smiled back, moving on to the next step while Toriel worked on the filling.

As he stirred the flour, oil, milk, sugar, and salt in a 9-inch pie pan with a fork, Toriel started up a conversation.

"How has work been, Papyrus?" she asked, genuine curiosity in her voice.

"IT'S BEEN GREAT! NOT AS GREAT AS ME, BUT I'VE BEEN HAVING A LOT OF FUN-- ESPECIALLY AT UNDYNE'S GYM!" The crust still hadn't solidified enough for him to start shaping it, but it was getting there.

Toriel smiled. "That's great, Papyrus."

They stood in silence for a moment, both working on their own parts of the pie. Toriel said that Papyrus still wasn't quite ready to make the filling for her famous Butterscotch-Cinnamon Pie, but he was progressing rapidly and could probably be able to make it by the end of the month if he kept it up.

"Has the restraunt still been giving you trouble, Papyrus?" Toriel asked softly.

"NOT AT ALL! WITH ME NOT BEING THE ONLY MONSTER WORKING THERE ANYMORE, EVERYONE'S BEEN REALLY NICE!" Papyrus bent down and put the crust into the oven, setting a timer for fifteen minutes.

"Oh, that's good. I will have to check up on Grillby and Muffet sometime soon. Maybe we could make them some traditional Monster food." Toriel had a distant look on her face. Any number of things could be racing behind her eyes, but if Papyrus were to guess, he would assume she was thinking of her time as Queen above ground.

"WE SHOULD! I'M SURE THEY WOULD APPRECIATE THAT!" Especially Grillby. He was one of the only remaining monsters who remembered even a little bit of before everyone was trapped underground--aside from Toriel and Asgore, of course. And then there was Gerson, and... Papyrus realised that that was it. Only four people who remembered what it was like before they were all sealed underground. Huh.

Papyrus felt the air shift, just a little bit, and knew Sans had taken a shortcut nearby. Papyrus wasn't quite sure if this was a skeleton thing, a Papyrus thing, or a "everyone knows about this and you're not supposed to talk about it" thing, but he wasn't going to bring it up.

Sans knocked on the doorway. "heya," he said with a lazy grin.

"HELLO, BROTHER!" Papyrus greeted with a big smile.

"Greetings, Sans."

"what'cha doin'?" he asked as he sat himself on the kitchen table.

"We are making a pie!" Toriel smiled and held up the butterscotch-cinnomon filling.

"nice. how long 's it gonna take?" Sans leaned back on his hands and started swinging his legs lazily.

"About..." Toriel seemed to do some quick calculations in her head. "Twently, perhapse thirty minutes. Why?"

Sans shrugged. "no reason, just that flowey bit frisk again," he said nonchalantly.

Toriel sighed and set down the bowl of pie filling. "Of course," she muttered with an incredible amount of exaustion.

Papyrus's browbones shot up as he looked between the two monsters. "AGAIN???"

"Unfortunatly, yes." Toriel gave Papyrus a somewhat-pained smile. "Flowey has not been adjusting very well."

"OH... MAYBE I COULD HELP?" Papyrus suggested hesitently. He knew that Sans didn't trust Flowey at all, but... Papyrus knew Flowey better than anyone.

Not that anyone knew that, but the sentiment was still there!

"i dunno, bro. flowey's been a bit, uh, difficult," Sans said hesitantly.

Papyrus suddenly felt a flow of pure urgency. It was just--as humans say--a "gut" feeling.

"ARE YOU QUESTIONING THE GREAT PAPYRUS'S FRIENDSHIP MAKING SKILLS, BROTHER?!!??!!!??" he asked, dramatically placing his hand above his SOUL with an over-the-top look of woe.

Sans and Toriel's smiles became the slightest bit more real.

"not at all, bro." Sans shrugged with a grin. "i mean... it couldn't hurt, right?"

Toriel nodded. "Yes, it could not cause any harm. Papyrus, let me take over while you are gone, will you not?"

"OF COURSE, MISS TORIEL!!" Papyrus responded with a blinding grin.

I fucking hate it here, Flowey thought for the 123rd time since he had been kidnapped and brought here.

Flowey boredly looked around the living room. There was nothing to do here--they hadn't even left the TV on for him! He couldn't reach anything because he couldn't extend his roots, there was no one to bother (even if he hated everyone here, it was at least something for him to do), and he had already seen everything in the room seventeen times over.

At least that smilely trash bag is bringing Toriel over, Flowey mused. He wanted to see of he could make her cry one of these days. Maybe he could mention something about how she failed her children?

"FLOWERY!!!!!!" a loud voice called from the living room entrance. Flowey snapped his head toward him. Papyrus. Flowey hadn't seen Papyrus much--if at all--since the first day he came here. He was still using that stupid nickname, too.

Flowey tilted his head to the side, a cruel grin on his face. "Papyrus? I thought you were avoiding me, I haven't seen you at all!"

"DO NOT FEAR, FLOWERY!! I WOULD NEVER AVOID YOU!" Sometimes it was frustrating that Papyrus had grown practically immune to all of Flowey's manipulation tactics. Other times, Flowey felt glad that at least someone could understand him on a deeper level than "murderous SOULless flower." (Sure, he was muderus, and he was SOULless, but there was at least a little bit more to him than that!)

Flowey sighed, feigning disintrest. Despite how he acted, Flowey felt something tense in him release. Papyrus, no matter the timeline, no matter if he remembered the RESETs or not, had always supported Flowey. Even when he did genocide after genocide after genocide, Papyrus belived in him every time.

Papyrus crouched in front of Flowey, a bright smile on his face.

"careful, bro," the smilely bitch warned lightly. He was on his phone, but Flowey and Papyrus both knew that he was still paying attention.

"OF COURSE, BROTHER!! WHEN WOULD I NOT BE CAREFUL??? I ALWAYS HAVE AND ALWAYS WILL BE CAREFUL!!!!" Papyrus responded proudly. Flowey couldn't help but disagree with that sentement. Papyrus blatantly refused to see the bad in someone, and that had ended in him getting killed more times than either of them could count.

"HOW HAVE YOU BEEN, FRIEND?" Papyrus asked sweetly.

"Bad," Flowey spat angrly. "I don't understand why you guys didn't just leave me in the underground. I was happy there!"

Papyrus's smile turned a bit more strained. He spared a glance at his brother, trying to gouge how much he was paying attention. Sans was wearing headphones, probably listening to a science textbook or something of the sort. He wasn't listening to the words they were saying, but he was listening to the magic in the room. As long as Flowey and Papyrus kept calm, Sans wouldn't step in.

"To Be Honest, Flowery, I Don't Know Why We Brought You Here Either. I Mean, I Like Having You Here, Definetly! It's Just... You Seem So Unhappy. And No One Will Give Me A Straight Answer When I Ask Them Why!!" Papyrus explained. He wasn't... bitter--but he was upset.

Flowey agressivly sighed. "Of course. Of course! I swear to gods, Papyrus, they need to stop treating you like a child. You've been out of stripes forever! They even treat Frisk as less of a child than you!"

Papyrus looked at the floor sadly. "I Suppose... But It Is With My My Best Interest In Mind! That Must Mean Something, Right?"

Flowey looked at Papyrus for a long moment.

"Sure, Papyrus," he settled on. He didn't feel like having this conversation again.

They sat in silence for a moment. It was nice, and reminded Flowey of before Frisk came along. When Flowey still had control over RESETs and SAVEs. Speaking of which...

"Papyrus, do you know anything about the RESETs? Frisk hasn't done one in a while," Flowey asked.

"Oh, Yes! I Belive That Sans May Have Struck A Deal With Our Human Friend! Quite A Few Times There Has Been Tension Between Them, And They Often Go To The Back Porch To Discuss Things!" Papyrus smiled brightly despite talking about such an important topic.

Flowey knew that there was more to it than Papyrus was saying, but he also knew that Papyrus would tell him eventually, so he wasn't worried. (Often Flowey would be struck with the sudden realisation--the same realisation he had come to several times before--that he trusted Papyrus. Never, in any RESET had Papyrus broken his trust, whether he was aware of the RESETS or not. Whether Flowey was doing a pacifist or genocide run. Whether Flowey had befriended Papyrus or not. Papyrus had never once broken Flowey's trust.)

"Huh. And I take it they still don't know?" Flowey commented.

Papyrus winced. "I-I'm Afraid Not, Flowey."

Flowey rolled his eyes, "Papyrus I don't give a fuck. Tell them whatever you want. Or whatever you don't want."

Papyrus nodded stifly. "Right, Right."

They lapsed into silence one again, though this time Papyrus was much more tense.

"Do You Think I Should Tell Them?"

Flowey heaved a big sigh. "Papyrus, I just told you. I don't care."

They say in silence once again, though this time is was a tad more tense. Flowey almost felt bad--he was pretty sure he'd upset Papyrus--but he just. Couldn't. (Sometimes, Flowey hated being SOULless more than anything. Often, Flowey hated being SOULless more than anything.)

Papyrus didn't respond, looking conflicted.

Frisk rounded the corner, a bandage on their hand. Sans looked up from his phone and took off his headphones.

"heya, kiddo." He lazily smiled.

"Hi, Sans," Frisk responded. Ey looked at Flowey and Papyrus for a long moment before continuing, "what are you two taking about?"

"Nothing."

"PASTA!"

They both said at the same time, making Flowey cringe.

Sans pushed himself up from the doorway and sat in the love seat nearby. Why he didn't just do that in the first place, Flowey didn't know. The smilely trash bag worked in mysterious ways.

"so, flowey. you know how this goes. 'poligise," he said casually. Flowey really, really hated him.

"Or what? You'll kill me? Rip my petals off one by one?" Flowey spat.

"FLOWERY!! WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT???" Papyrus exclaimed, looking uncomfortable.

"I wouldn't put it past them," Flowey did the flower eqiuvalent of crossing his arms, which was just him imagining that he was crossing his arms.

"F-L-O-W-E-Y, please just say sorry," Frisk signed slowly.

"No, fuck you."

Sans sighed heavily. "guess it's time for time-out, huh?"

Papyrus looked genuenly appalled.

"A WHAT????"

"time-out?"

"WH--????FLOWEY ISN'T A CHILD??? THOUGH?????"

Sans just shrugged and picked up Flowey's flowey pot.

"Ugghhhhhhhh," Flowey groaned. He considered biting Sans's hand, but decided that it was too much effort. Sans placed him in his little "room." The calander on the wall had no stickers.

"someone'll come get you in an hour or somethin'." Sans said nonnchalantly and left. Flowey heard Frisk leave as well.

Papyrus stood in the living room for a moment before Flowey heard him leave as well.

I hate it here, he thought for the 124th time since he'd been taken there. Rehabilitation my ass! This place sucks and they treat me like a child--

"Psstt, Flowery!!"

The curtain seperating Flowey's "room" from the rest of the world opened the slighest bit, Papyrus peaking through it. "What," Flowey deadpanned.

He slid a miniature arcade game in front of him. "I Got This For You Earlier This Week, And I Just Remembered!! I Hope You Like It!!!"

Flowey stared at it. It was of Pacman, and it seemed to be working.

"Why? I don't have any stickers on the calander thing, especally not enough to get a t--something."

"I Know, But You Looked," Papyrus paused, "Like You Needed Something."

Flowey stared at him. He looked like the epitemy of goofyness, just peaking through the curtains like that.

"Okay. Bye," Flowey said.

"Bye, Flowery!!!" Papyrus whispered. Then he left.

Chapter Text

Papyrus sat by his window, straining to listen to Frisk and Sans’s conversation. Unfortunately, Papyrus couldn’t see Frisk, so he could only hear one side of the conversation.

They were talking about the RESETs again. They had created a self-mandated, self-lead, two-person therapy group that happened every week or so. Papyrus almost felt bad, listening in on such private conversations, but a bigger part of him felt better hearing how Sans missed Papyrus whenever Frisk would kill him, and how Frisk (presumably, since Papyrus couldn’t see what Frisk said,) felt bad for all of the more brutal runs.

Sometimes, and especially recently, Papyrus would wish Flowey was part of their discussions. Just so Papyrus could maybe-possibly-probably-not hear Flowey say he regretted killing Papyrus, and being mean, and taking advantage of Papyrus’s naivety over and over and over again. Because despite everything, despite that Papyrus and Flowey had grown, despite that they had become best friends, Flowey had never apologised.

And despite everything, it kind of hurt.

Maybe Papyrus should suck it up and forget about it, or maybe he should do the responsible, well-adjusted thing and just ask for an apology. Either way, Papyrus hadn’t done anything about the sad, ever-present want growing in his body--his SOUL--and he almost thinks he never will.

-

Papyrus sits at the table for breakfast, a spidercider flavoured spidertart in his mouth. Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders!

“heya, paps,” Sans greets from his spot at the table, skull pillowed in his arms. An untouched bowl of oatmeal sits next to his arm.

“GREETINGS, BROTHER!! TODAY IS GOING TO BE A WONDERFUL DAY!”

“right back atcha, bro,” Sans gives him a lazy smile, of which Papyrus returns with much more energy.

Frisk walks in, Flowey in eir arms, and Papyrus notices something... off about Flowey.

Typically, even almost a month after he was brought to the Surface, Flowey would be cursing up a storm, or at least glaring at anything and everything in the room.

But today he was still. Silent. He just observed with a blank face.

Papyrus made a mental note.

-

The next day was the same. Spidercider flavoured spidertart (made for spiders, by spiders, of spiders!). Sans half-asleep at the table. Frisk brings Flowey in. Flowey is unresponsive.

Papyrus was getting worried. Anger was second-nature for Flowey, so this despondent version of him was... it was scary.

-

The day after that was the same.

Papyrus decided to talk to Flowey that night.

-

“Flowery?” Papyrus whispered, lightly pulling back the thin curtain separating Flowey’s “room” from the living room.

Flowey stared out into the front yard blankly, not giving even a blink of acknowledgement.

Papyrus frowned. “Flowery, Are You Okay?”

Flowey stared blankly.

Papyrus checked for any of his numerous house-mates and, once he found none, picked up Flowey and brought him to Papyrus’s room.

Papyrus sat on the floor criss-cross-applesauce style and placed Flowey between his femurs.

Papyrus stared at Flowey’s blank face. Despite knowing each other for what could only be thought of as years, this had never happened before.

Papyrus knew it would likely get the both of them in great trouble, but he took off his gloves and gently and slowly pulled Flowey out of the soil in his pot. As if on reflex, Flowey’s roots curled around Papyrus’s bones until secure. And it had to be on reflex, because Flowey’s face still hadn’t changed.

Papyrus hesitantly pet Flowey’s petals, just trying to get some kind of change in his expression.

“Flowery?” Papyrus tried again.

No response.

Papyrus started talking. About everything, about nothing, just trying to engage Flowey with the world. He told him stories about work; stories about the surface; stories about the underground, even.

Flowey blinked.

Papyrus kept going. Kept talking, kept petting, kept trying.

At one of Papyrus’s work stories, Flowey scoffed.

“That’s not how it works.”

Papyrus wanted to cry in relief.

“Of Course It Is! I Work There, Remember?”

Many stories later--most of which Flowey interjected, some of which he didn’t--Papyrus finally decided to ask what happened.

Flowey scowled at the floor, pointedly avoiding his pot. “I figured everyone’d be happier with a houseplant.”

Papyrus frowned. “I Wouldn’t Be Happier With A Houseplant.”

Flowey stayed silent, and Papyrus was almost worried he would go away again.

“I know,” he said instead, quietly. Like it wasn’t meant to be spoken aloud.

Papyrus gave Flowey the best approximation of a hug he could.

-

The next morning, after re-planting Flowey, Papyrus and Flowey went downstairs early. Papyrus watered Flowey while talking with him. Flowey talked with Papyrus as he ate his spidercider flavoured spidertart (made for spiders, by spiders, of spiders!). Sans walked into the kitchen, half-asleep as always, and rushed in Toriel, made him a bowl of cereal, and hurried off to work.

Frisk burst into the kitchen, signing urgently “WHERE’S F-L-O-W-E-Y?”

“RIGHT HERE!” Papyrus responded cheerily.

Flowey flickered between being there and going away again.

Confusion covered Frisk’s face like a thick coat of paint. Ey seemed to collect eir words, then signed “why is he here? Who brought him here?”

“HE SEEMED LONELY, SO I BROUGHT HIM WITH ME!” Papyrus told em with a bright smile.

Frisk’s face contorted and ey looked to Sans for support, only to find that he was asleep.

“...I don’t understand. Why...why did you bring him with you?”

“HE SEEMED LONELY!” Papyrus responded.

Frisk set eir jaw. “Papyrus, that’s dangerous--” ey signed dangerous with extra emphasis “--please don’t do that again.”

Papyrus was about to say “okay,” feeling guilty, but Flowey spoke before he could.

“Stop treating him like a fucking child!” Flowey yelled. “He’s an adult! Why can’t you guys just understand that?!”

At Flowey’s screaming, Sans woke up. “whoah, bud. stop screamin’, i just woke up.”

Flowey screamed into his dirt.

“Flowery--” Papyrus made to lay a gentle hand on the back of his stem.

“NO!” Flowey yelled, something raw, and angry, and scared. “NO! Stop--just--just stop! I’m done! I’m done with the Surface, I’m done with this run, I’m done with YOU!”

And that “you” was directed at Papyrus.