Chapter Text
It hadn't taken Flowey long to notice the glimmer of hope in Sans' eyes. The one that appeared for a brief second as he caught sight of the flower's yellow petals out of the corner of his eye socket.
As soon as Flowey recognised what it meant, it was too easy to see through Sans' façade whenever the skeleton talked to him.
Sans would try to mask the disappointment on his face when he turned to face the golden light and realised it was Flowey.
Just Flowey. Flowey the Flower. Not Frisk, Sans' flowered sweetheart.
Flowey knew his vivid golden petals were a reminder of who they'd both lost. He hated it, despised himself for it, but he couldn't exactly help it.
There were times when Flowey wished he could get rid of the harrowing reminder he bore. There was a time when he'd tried.
Sans had been slouched on the sofa, sleeping, the images that passed through his mind causing him to twitch occasionally and grind his teeth. But the sickly scent of crushed buttercups brought him out of his nightmare, and into a new one.
For a second, he thought Frisk was in trouble.
For a second, he thought they were still with him.
For a second, he thought there was still hope.
But then Sans reached the source of the smell - the kitchen - and took in the sight before him. Golden petals lay strewn across the worktop and floor in tatters. Tears rolled silently off Flowey's remaining torn petals and joined those resting against the base of his stalk, soaking into the soil.
"Look," Flowey said shakily. "I'm self-watering."
Sans could only stare. How could the flower be cracking jokes now? When he'd tried to tear himself apart? Because he'd done this to himself, that much was evident. Flowey still held a single complete petal, crushed gently in his leaf.
"why?" The skeleton finally whispered.
Flowey smiled sadly, his eyes fixed on the petal he held. "So you can stop having false hope."
Sans cocked his head slightly, his brow furrowed, "i don't… i don't understand."
"LOOK AT ME!" Flowey screeched suddenly, his face distorting into a terrifying grimace and his grip on the petal now anything but gentle. "WHEN YOU LOOK AT ME, WHAT DO YOU SEE?"
Holding his hands up, Sans tried to approach the flower, "calm down, why are you-"
"WHAT DO YOU SEE?"
When Sans didn't - couldn't - reply, Flowey relinquished his hold on the petal, or rather he threw it at the skeleton. It retained it's shape for a second, just a second, before crumbling into a pile of pitiful bits, falling short of Sans and landing in pieces at his feet.
"YOU SEE THEM, DON'T YOU? NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS, THE FIRST THING YOU SEE WHEN YOU LOOK AT ME WILL ALWAYS BE THEM. Frisk." Flowey took a deep breath and collected a few of the torn petals from his boot. "I do too. And I hate it. I hate the pain it causes both of us."
"it ain't your fault flowey, yeah it hurts, but there's no need for this, for any of this," he waved his hand around the room. "ha, ironic comin' from me ain't it?" The flower had caught him quite a few times with the point of his save star milimetres from his soul.
But he'd never gone through with it. Flowey almost had.
"do you need anythin'?"
"Different petals?" Flowey said wistfully, all the anger from his voice gone.
"can't help you there bud…" Sans stooped down to collect the petals at his feet, but as soon as his finger brushed against the broken velvet, he recoiled.
His breath hitched as the memories tormented his mind, the good ones twisted and the bad ones distorted into the worst possible case scenario. It was hell and Sans couldn't even see straight anymore, there was just gold everywhere. All shades, each in the shape of a distraught, bleeding petal.
Eventually Sans' breathing slowed, and his head stopped pounding. "seems like i can't help much with anythin'," he managed to get out, looking up at the flower, not even realising he'd sunk down onto his knees.
They were silent for a while, Sans curled up in a ball, a barrier of petals separating him from Flowey who hung his head in exhaustion. He didn't know when or why exactly he'd snapped; one second he'd been getting a snack from the cupboard - he didn't have to eat, but human food was surprisingly good - and the next he'd been tearing at himself over and over again.
Just as soon as he'd gotten the impulse to rip off his own petals, he'd lost it. And Flowey had found himself holding one of his petals in his leaf, and bits of the rest spread around him.
The tears had come not from pain, he'd become rather numb to that thanks to the countess deaths and rests he'd endured, but from bitter hopelessness. Because of course now he'd made it worse. Now he wouldn't remind Sans of Frisk, he'd remind him of a broken Frisk. A tattered, traumatized Frisk.
The thought made him burst out into fresh tears and he jumped off the worktop to settle down next to Sans, finding some comfort there. The skeleton was already asleep, but it wasn't a pleasant sleep if his constant tremors were anything to go off. Flowey rested his throbbing head against Sans' arm, drifting off into a world where it was kill or be killed.
It was Papyrus that found the pair, sighing heavily he'd moved them both into the living room so he could clear up the petals. He was tempted to shout at them for the mess they'd made but something, something he'd once known all too well so many years ago, caused him to hesitate.
Papyrus wasn't known for his kindness, not anymore, but he found that the surface helped him recognise when someone needed help. And Sans was his brother, no mattered how many times he'd threatened him and shouted at him, they were still family. As for the flower… it seemed to be important to his brother, though Papyrus couldn't think why.
It probably had something to do with that human his brother had fallen for. At least now they were out of the way he'd gotten his brother back.
When Sans had returned, asking his brother to forgive him, Papyrus had thought about refusing, after all he had betrayed all of monsterkind by helping a human. But he had also freed all of monsterkind with the help of the human. So he supposed they were even.
The past was what it was, and nothing could change that. No matter how much his brother pleaded into the night for the timeline to reset. Whatever that meant. Papyrus couldn't bring himself to care.
"bro?" came a voice from the living-room.
"I'M IN THE KITCHEN, SANS. CLEARING UP THIS RIDICULOUS MESS YOU AND THE FLOWER SO KINDLY LEFT FOR ME."
"oh," Sans walked up to the entrance, averting his eyes, "thanks."
Papyrus snorted, "DON’T GIVE ME THAT HUMAN NONSENSE. I ONLY CLEARED UP BECAUSE I COULDN'T STAND TO SEE SUCH DISARRAY IN MY KIT-"
Sans tuned him out.
Human nonsense. That's right, manners were just… human nonsense.
Can be rude. Don't want to. Don't have to.
"WHAT WAS THAT, SANS?"
Sans hadn't realised he'd spoken the words out loud, their words. "nothin’ bro, just talkin' to myself."
"I THOUGHT YOU HAD THE FLOWER FOR THAT NOW?"
"flowey," Sans said quietly, eyes still on the ground, "his name is flowey."
Papyrus waved a hand in the air, "WHATEVER. THE HUMAN'S PET. THE FLOWER. FLOWEY. NAMES DON’T MATTER FOR IT."
Sans looked up at that, red eye flashing dangerously, "yes they do, he matters. and he's not, nor ever was a pet. he was their friend. he's my friend."
"PFF, FRIENDS. WHO WOULD WANT FRIENDS?"
"you did. once." And with that Sans left, collecting Flowey as he headed upstairs.
Should Sans have stayed, he would have sworn he saw an almost longing in Papyrus' eyes. But should he have stayed, the taller skeleton would surely have found something else to say in response.
As it was, Papyrus fell silent, eyeing the petal filled trash can with something that could easily mistaken as distain, but there was regret there too. The feeling lasted for a mere second, but it was enough for Papyrus to question it, then just as quickly deny it.
Once Sans got to his room, he set Flowey down on his nightstand and collapsed onto his bed, not even bothering to get under the covers.
After a few minutes, Flowey pipped up, "Did you really mean that?"
"hmm?"
"That I matter, to you I mean. That I'm your… friend?" Flowey said the last word uncertainly, he'd only ever had one friend before.
"sure," Sans mumbled, already half asleep.
Flowey looked at Sans apprehensively, "But a friend wouldn't have put you through… that."
"s'not your fault, bud." Sans yawned and turned to face Flowey, though his eyes remained shut. "gonna take time to get better, for both of us. but we can do it, i promise," Sans reached out his hand lazily, resting it against Flowey’s boot, "together."
"Together," Flowey agreed, shuffling a little closer to the skeleton. "Always together."
Sans' only response was a light snore; sleep and the nightmares already taking him far away from reality. But getting away from reality wasn't always a bad thing.
Time passed.
Nothing changed.
Sans still had his nightmares, still flinched when he caught sight of Flowey and still asked Frisk to reset, to come back.
Papyrus was the same. Still pretending he couldn't understand what was wrong and still refused to call Flowey by his name. Just as Sans had when they'd first met.
As for Flowey, his petals were now brown around the edges where he'd brutally torn at them, but other than that, they were still heartbreakingly golden. Even worse, if Flowey moved in the wrong way, his remaining petals would tear a little more and the smell of buttercups would once again fill the air.
The first time it had happened, Sans hadn't moved for three days straight. He'd just stayed in bed, not even sleeping for sleep brought even worse nightmares than the ones he faced whilst awake. It was only the promise of visiting Frisk - the place where they lay - that brought him out of his immobile state.
"hey sweetheart, still miss you. heh, as if i could ever stop missin’ you. ... the surface is nice, thanks for that, it's makin' pap a better person. i think. … wish you were here to see it. … somedays are better than others, it depends on fl- yeah i-i won't go into that, it'll only make you sad," Sans sighed. "but we can do this, i think," his gaze shifted to Flowey, "together. right bud?"
"Sure." Is Flowey's only reply.
There was a day when Sans snuck down to visit Frisk on his own, a day that was worse than others. And Flowey silently followed him.
He wished he hadn't.
"f-frisk? sweetheart? can you stop this please? can you stop the pain and the reminders and just everythin'. i can’t take much more. flowey… flowey isn't really…" a sigh, "there's days like today when i think that maybe, maybe things would be better if i didn't have the flower to remind me of you. you have the same flowers, and the same scent. god the scent, that's the worst. sometimes i can smell it every second of every day. everythin' is tainted by it… maybe without it, i could move on…"
Sans fell silent and Flowey bowed his head. He’d called him 'the flower' he hadn't done that in a while. Or maybe he had and this was just the first time Flowey had heard him. Maybe Sans would be better off without him. Maybe they both would be better off without each other.
Lost in his thoughts, Flowey didn't hear Sans' last remarks.
"but honestly, i don't know what i'd do without flowey. he's my rock, my bud. i don't know what would happen if he left too."
Flowey had thought about it for a long time. He'd gone over the pros and cons in his head over and over again, but he kept coming to the same conclusion - he couldn't keep hurting Sans like this. Couldn't keep hurting himself like this.
It was incredibly quixotic of the both of them to think that time could change anything. No, actual change was needed.
He waited till Sans was having an okay day. He didn't really have good days anymore. Not really.
"Sans, can I talk to you?"
"sure, what's on your mind, bud?"
They were in Sans’ room, the skeleton himself had been lazily flicking various objects into the self sustaining trash tornado that had somehow made its way onto the surface and re-established itself in Sans' new room. Flowey had been watching apprehensively, trying to decided if now was the right time to tell him.
"I was thinking, maybe it's time I moved on."
Sans sat up at that, "wait what? you're leavin'?"
"I think it's for the best," Flowey said with a nod. "It's been months and... things aren't any better."
"no i, i guess they're not." Sans had to admit. But without Flowey… No, if he wanted to leave, Sans wasn't going to stop him. Good friends supported each other's decisions, right? "if that's what you want, don't let me hold you back."
It couldn't be easy for Flowey either, Sans realised. Just as Flowey reminded him of Frisk, he himself must remind the flower of them too. He hadn't considered how this would be affecting Flowey. Idiot, how could he have ignored that?
"sorry i wasn't able to help more. sorry about all of this."
"It's not your fault." Flowey muttered, repeating Sans' own words back at him.
Sans awkwardly picked up Flowey, motioning for him to wrap around his neck like he had down in the underground.
"Why?"
"hopin' thistle make you feel better," Sans said with a shrug and the ghost of a smile, "least for a bit."
For a second, it almost made Flowey stay. Almost.
Instead he wrapped himself around the skeleton's neck and shoulders, hugging him as best he could. Sans returned the gesture with a pat and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to pretend he didn't just hear the tear of yet another petal. He didn't dare breathe as he felt a droplet of buttercup juice soaked into his jumper. Or maybe it was a tear, his or Flowey's. The only way to check would be to breathe in.
Sans held his breath.
A few hours later, Flowey had fallen asleep, content for now to stay wrapped around Sans, who fought against his better instinct to sleep. Should he, he'd start breathing again, without a doubt. And with Flowey this close, with his buttercup smell this close…
Usually it would be no big deal for a skeleton to stop breathing. After all, they didn't need to. But Frisk had accustomed Sans to so many human things, breathing being one of them, and he found he just couldn't let go of that. Consciously or subconsciously.
He didn't want to let go - couldn't let go - of anything that reminded him of Frisk.
Unless the most important reminder wanted to leave.
"hey, flowey?"
"Mmm?" Came his reply, sleep making him drowsy. "Whasup?"
Sans hesitated before he continued, "we'll still see each other right? from time to time?"
"Sure, but for now, it's better if we give each other space," Flowey mumbled, snuggling even closer.
Sans could almost laugh at the irony if it wasn't tearing him apart.
"SANS!" There was a pounding knock on his door, which rose Sans from his perpetual nightmare, and gradually the rest of what Papyrus was saying filtered through. "-IN YOUR ROOM FOR TWO WEEKS! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU? … SANS? … BROTHER?"
Rubbing his eye sockets, Sans sat up, "i'm here pap."
"GOOD." There was a pause. "I MEAN, IT'S NOT LIKE I WAS WORRIED. BUT GOOD. ARE YOU GOING TO COME OUT?"
"ah, no… i… i don't think so."
Sans heard Papyrus sigh irritably, all the sympathy - if indeed he'd ever felt any - now gone from his voice, "IS THIS ALL YOU’RE GOING TO DO WITH YOUR LIFE? SLEEP?"
"probably."
"WHY?"
It was like Papyrus was trying to upset him, "... you know why."
"AH YES BECAUSE YOU LOST YOUR PRECIOUS FLOWER. THAT'S TWO NOW. YOU PROBABLY COULD HAVE SAVED THE HUMAN IF YOU'D'VE TRIED HARDER."
Sans got up at that and opened his door to glare at his brother, eye flashing red "don't. don't say that. you don't get to say that. you've killed them, over and over again. you gave them so many fuckin' flowers," Sans prodded Papyrus' chest, "you blinded them."
"WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?" Papyrus said indignantly, "WHEN DID I EVER- WHATEVER, IF I DID, WHICH I DIDN'T, IT'S BECAUSE I WAS DOING MY JOB," he shouted, slapping Sans' hand away, "MAYBE IF YOU DID YOURS THE FLOWER WOULD HAVE STAYED."
"how does that even make sense? flowey left because he needs time and distance and… you know what? fuck this. fuck you! i don't have to explain this because you're never goin' to get it are you?" Sans' eye was completely lit up now, his hand taking on a similar glow. "you're never goin' to understand what this feels like, to feel so hopeless and scared and to miss someone so much… you don't know what it's like." Sans turned his back on his brother and walked back into his room, "and you never will," he finished, slamming and locking the door with his magic.
He didn't need this, he didn't need his brother ripping into him. He ripped into himself often enough. About how he too had killed Frisk, how he too had given them so many flowers. If only he'd started helping them from the start, maybe… maybe they'd still be here…
This was why he needed Flowey, he needed a friend who could see the good in him. Frisk had seen it best and had found a way to nurture it, found a way to actually make him happy for once. Flowey maintained that. Or, he used to.
Papyrus was still shouting at him through the door, but years of practise meant Sans could tune him out. The taller skeleton gave up with a final huff, slamming his fist against the door one final time and stomping back downstairs.
The front door shut behind him with a bang, and made the whole house shake from the force of it. Muttering angrily Papyrus set off towards Mt. Ebbot, not even realising that was where he was heading.
Sunlight shone down on golden-brown petals, the shadow cast behind Flowey irregular and broken - the opposite of what a flower's shadow should be.
But Flowey wasn't just a flower.
The buttercups he brushed with his leaves and vines, those were simple flowers. Many were dampened by Flowey's endless flow of tears, some even drooped a little - ruby drops resting on their petals.
He didn't know why he'd come here. Or even if he should stay.
Something would always inevitably draw him to this spot, no matter what happened in his life, no matter how many times the timeline reset… This is where he’d always returned to.
But this time it was different.
It had been a mistake to abandon Sans. It had been a mistake to come here. But he didn't go back home.
Flowey stayed rooted to the ground, sharing the soil with hundreds of buttercups, each and every single one managed to look pitiful as their faces gazed upon their ragged companion.
Of course these flowers could not really feel pity; they could not see Flowey's tears fall nor hear his halting sobs. They moved only with the odd bluster of wind, and communicated with the earth in a language long lost to those who could speak.
Yet they comforted Flowey in a small, strange way. For if these flowers could bear such harrowing golden petals in all their glory, then surely Flowey could stand to bear his crumpled discoloured ones. Just until tomorrow.
And when tomorrow came around, he would remind himself the exact same thing; until he no longer hated himself. That was going to take a while.
"IMBECILIC SANS AND HIS COMPLETE LACK OF MOTIVATION TO DO ANYTHING," Papyrus shouted at the roof of the underground. "MAKING ME GO IN SEARCH OF THIS DAMN FLOWER, JUST GO HE CAN GET OUT OF BED EVERY NOW AND AGAIN."
Angrily he kicked an echo flower as he passed it. '...-ness is enough' floated up from its petals as they scattered into the air. Papyrus didn't care to listen.
He tried telling himself he wasn't doing this for his brother, that would mean being… kind. He shuddered just thinking about it. No, Papyrus was doing this for himself, he was being selfish. Anyway, he needed the exercise.
Any excuse other than sympathy.
Trekking through Waterfall was so surreal now. He'd taken this path many times before, on the lookout for humans. And now he was on the lookout for a human's pet flower.
He thought of it as just another task, a challenge even. And the Great Papyrus never backed down from a challenge.
"I'LL FIND THAT FLOWER IF IT'S THE LAST THING I DO," he said to no one in particular, just liking how his voice echoed through the caves.
Papyrus stared up in derision at the sparkling stones set in the ceiling of said caves. To think, that was what they had once thought stars were like. Papyrus couldn't imagine why Flowey would even consider returning to this dreary place.
But he knew he must have.
If anyone had asked Papyrus why he knew, the skeleton wouldn't have been able to explain it. He just… knew. It wasn't that he had knowledge of the creature's habits or its favourite spots to be. But he knew his brother's, and that was enough. The two were more alike than they knew.
The air gradually grew colder as Papyrus got closer and closer to Snowdin. He didn't notice the cold in particular though, he was used to it.
His old house was awarded a mere glance, Papyrus hadn't spent enough time there to feel nostalgic about the place. It had just been a place to rest and recover energy before setting off on patrol again.
In any case, it meant he was closer to his destination, and that was what mattered.
Back at the house, Sans was pacing furiously, his inner turmoil letting itself out as pent-up frustration and anger. The wall already had various bones wedged into it, fine spider cracks decorating the spaces between.
"stupid papyrus shoutin' at me when it's all his fault. i'll give him somethin' to fuckin' shout at," with that Sans sent several bones flying into a different wall in a vaguely looking Papyrus shaped formation.
He kept this up for a while, abusing the walls of his room both vocally and physically.
Finally, Sans ended up punching the wall directly which elicited two sounds. The first was a sharp pop - like the sound of cracking a knuckle - and second was a cry of "motherfucker!"
Sans held his hurt hand in his other, tears already starting to form. Not out of pain, but out of frustration. He'd managed to keep it in up until now, but this was just too much for him.
It was like he couldn't get anything right.
He only ever ended up hurting himself and others. Not that he cared whether or not he got hurt, but on top of everything that had happened… Well, it certainly wasn't helping, put it that way.
Gingerly he flexed his hand, and was surprised when the pain didn't increase; in fact nothing even looked broken or damaged, unless you counted the hairline fissure in the third metacarpal bone.
That was a close one. Having only 1HP meant even a broken bone could be fatal, or it could not. Sans didn't know, he'd never really tested the theory out. A dark part of him wanted to, a darker part wished things could have just ended there and then.
Sans tried to push the thought away, for Frisk's sake. Or for the sake of their memory.
That's what he could do: visit Frisk. Maybe scrounge snacks from the cupboards to have some sort of picnic there and restore the sliver of HP he'd lost. Just to get away from here for a while basically, though Papyrus would surely try to drag him back once he returned from wherever he'd gone. Honestly, the thought made Sans rather sick.
Perhaps a note? A passive-aggressive one? Nah, he'd just see that as a challenge. Wait, a challenge, that could work...
But first food, he needed to stay strong. For Frisk.
Flowey heard the approaching footsteps long before their owner arrived. He knew exactly who it was as well, really he had time to leave or hide.
He should have hidden, he really should have.
Things could have been so different.
As it was, Papyrus came into sight a few minutes later, signature scowl already on his face in preparation.
"THERE YOU ARE!" he shouted, as Flowey thought 'here we go' and rolled his eyes. Papyrus carried on regardless. "C'MON DEAD PETALS, I'M BRINGING YOU BACK WITH ME."
"No." Flowey said simply.
"NO? NO?!? I'LL DRAG YOU BY YOUR ROOTS IF I HAVE TO, BUT YOU'RE COMING BACK WITH ME," he sneered down at the flower, "YOU DON'T HAVE A CHOICE."
To Papyrus' surprise, Flowey began to laugh. In all honesty, it made the tall skeleton feel rather uncomfortable. Not scared. No, not at all, he would never say he felt scared. Nope.
"LAUGH ALL YOU WANT, I'M TAKING YOU HOME. I DON'T CARE WHA-"
"What did you say? You're taking me home?" Another laugh, though this one was more forced. "I am home. Now leave, you're not welcome here."
Papyrus didn't move.
Flowey frowned at him, "Are you stupid? I said leave!"
"NO."
"No?" Flowey bowed his head to cover his face, and a soft chuckle filled the air. "No?" When he looked back up, Papyrus almost flinched out of surprise. Almost.
Flowey's eyes were now black pits - much like Papyrus' own - but with red pinpricks in the centre. That wasn't the reason for the skeleton's alarm however, no, it was the flower's grin that gave him shivers. It stretched, taking up the rest of Flowey's face, and was filled with needle sharp teeth that dripped buttercup juice.
"Y o u d o n ' t h a v e a c h o i c e . . ." came a raspy voice from Flowey's mouth, but it wasn't Flowey's voice, nor not any sort of voice Papyrus had heard before. It was something… demonic. Something possessed.
Papyrus wasn't given enough time to think about it further before several thick vines burst out of the ground and latched onto him, digging their thorns into and between his bones.
They lifted him up, up, up, high off of the ground; and continued to weave their way through his body, their grip on him tightening more and more every second, gradually depleting his HP.
If he so wished, Flowey could get his revenge for all the deaths, all the pain, all the suffering that Papyrus had put them all through. He could end the skeleton right here, right now. Frisk wouldn't know, Sans wasn't here to protect his brother - if he would even be willing to.
Flowey could do it.
He could end Papyrus' life in a mere second.
A second passed and the vines retracted, unceremoniously dumping Papyrus onto the ground, face first.
"Leave," Flowey muttered, head once again bowed and his voice back to normal. "Please. Before I change my mind."
It took a moment for Papyrus to catch his breath. "I ... D-DIDN'T COME … ALL THE WAY ... OUT F-FUCKING HERE ... TO LEAVE EMPTY … EMPTY HANDED. I DIDN'T COME ALL THIS BLOODY WAY … JUST FOR YOU. I CAME OUT HERE FOR SANS ... FOR MY BROTHER."
Flowey was silent.
"SO WHA-WHATEVER … IT IS INSIDE YOU … THAT MAKES YOU … FEEL … ANYTHING. TRY TO FEEL S-SOMETHING … THAT CAN HELP SANS. B-BECAUSE I … I CAN'T. I CAN'T HELP HIM … AND HE NEEDS HELP. HE NEEDS YOU … HE NEEDS YOU, F-FLOWEY."
Papyrus paused again, this time to cough loudly, those vines had really lowered his HP. If he wasn't in excruciating pain he would have even said he was impressed. As it was he was too busy coughing up his non-existent guts.
As his coughing fit ended he heard a whisper. "WHA-WHAT WAS THAT?"
"I said alright." Flowey muttered, even quieter this time. "For Sans."
Papyrus begrudgingly held out his hand to the flower.
"What's that for?" Flowey said with curious disgust.
"WE'LL GET THERE FASTER IF I … IF YOU TRAVEL ON MY SHOULDERS. OR WHATEVER."
Flowey looked at him in confusion. "I'm surprised you'd be willing to even touch me after, well, that."
The tall skeleton shrugged, "IF IT MEANS I'LL GET MY BROTHER BACK ... I DON'T CARE. ALSO WHAT YOU DID WAS ... MORE IMPRESSIVE THAN ANYTHING ELSE … NOW C'MON WEED."
"So much for using my name huh?" Flowey muttered, ignoring the disguised praise.
A sigh, "C'MON. FLOWEY."
Flowey gingerly unearthed himself from the ground and made his way over to Papyrus who waited until Flowey was settled before standing up. He stumbled a bit as he did.
"URGH ... YOU … YOU DID A NUMBER ON ME … FLOWER."
"We can pick up some food at Toriel's, she would always leave something in the fridge, I'm sure there'll still be something in there now."
This was met with a nod and the tall skeleton turned towards the exit, walking with a limp into the ruins.
As Papyrus' footsteps stopped echoing around the place, Sans blinked into existence. Had he been just that little bit faster, maybe the blindingly obvious sound of his brother in pain would have jolted him into reality. Maybe it would have pushed him even further down the rabbit hole.
Either way, it didn't matter, for Sans arrived just a second too late. Or Papyrus and Flowey left just a second too early. Again, it didn't matter which, for the final outcome was the same.
Sans knelt softly before the golden petals, a loving longing in his eyes. "hey sweetheart. i'm home."
"Here," Flowey dropped a chocolate bar into Papyrus' hand.
"IS THIS HUMAN FOOD?"
Flowey rolled his eyes, "Just eat it," he muttered, jumping off Papyrus' shoulder.
Papyrus was now holding the chocolate between his thumb and forefinger, still considering whether or not he could last until Snowdin, or if he'd just have to suck it up and eat the damn stuff.
"Eat it!" Flowey's voice called from the living-room.
"URGH FINE," he shoved the entire thing in his mouth at once, not even bothering to take the wrapper off. "WAIT, WHERE ARE YOU GOING?" Papyrus shouted, the chocolate making his words thick and heavy.
Flowey either didn't hear him or didn't care to answer.
It was probably the latter.
He return a few minutes later, dragging a child's boot into the kitchen with his vines.
Flowey opened his mouth to speak, but Papyrus interrupted him before he even got a word out. "WHERE THE HELL DID YOU FIND THAT, AND WHY DO YOU HAVE IT?"
"Toriel has a few," Flowey failed to mention why exactly she did, "and it's to plant me in. I got rid of my old boot when I left S- well, when I left."
Papyrus let out an annoyed sigh, "AND I SUPPOSE YOU WANT ME TO PLANT YOU IN IT?"
"N-no, I just need to find some soil. I can plant myself," he finished indignantly.
Putting a hand on his hip, Papyrus bent down so he could look Flowey in the eye, "SO WHY DID YOU BRING IT IN HERE? IS SOIL KEPT IN A KITCHEN NOW? DID I MISS A MEMO? SHOULD I RUN BACK AND DUMP THREE KILOS OF THE STUFF ALL OVER MY COUNTERS BACK HOME?"
Flowey frowned at the sarcasm in his voice, "I, well, I can't exactly do it all, I mean I need you to-"
A groan, "JUST SPIT IT OUT ALREADY."
"I need your help to put soil in the boot, okay?" The blush of embarrassment very much visible on his face, "I need your help to do that."
Papyrus moved the bone of his brow in an imitation of raising his eyebrows, "BASICALLY YOU NEED ME TO PLANT YOU."
A sort of strangling sound escaped Flowey's mouth before he gave up, "Fine. Yes. Whatever."
One skeleton smirk and many snide remarks later, Flowey was planted in his new boot, and the pair were well on their way to Snowdin.
They kept up an almost constant banter throughout their travels which Flowey was actually grateful for - it meant his thoughts didn't linger too long on Sans. Papyrus was in pretty much the same mindset, though he would never admit this to the flower.
"-HAD THIS PIANO PUZZLE THAT DIDN'T EVEN CUT ACROSS THE MAIN PATH THROUGH WATERFALL."
"Mmm, well, Undyne certainly stopped us quite a few times."
Papyrus thought for a moment, "SANS TOLD ME A LITTLE ABOUT THE HUMAN'S FLOWERS. WHO GAVE THEM MORE, ME OR UNDYNE?"
"Uh, does it matter?" Flowey muttered, clearly uncomfortable, "I can't really remember. But you both gave them too many. One was too many. The amount you gave them..." he shook it off and sighed.
"I'LL JUST IMAGINE YOU SAID I GAVE THEM MORE. I AM BETTER AT MY JOB THAN UNDYNE AFTER ALL."
Papyrus was clearly proud of the conclusion he'd come to, but Flowey remained silent. Normally he didn't care whether he inflated the tall skeleton's already immense ego, but he refused to if it involved Frisk.
"AH, SNOWDIN!" Papyrus' exclamation pulled Flowey out of whatever dream world he'd been caught in.
Flowey yawned, "We should," a deep breath and he blinked as his surrounding came back into focus, "check out Grillby's and your house for food."
"URGH I'LL PASS ON GRILLBY'S. JUST STEPPING THROUGH THE DOOR MAKES ME WRINKLE MY NOSE IN DISGUST."
Eyebrows raised, Flowey responded snarkily, "Ah yes, the nose that defines your face and really brings out your features. The nose that slopes elegantly downwards and rounds off perfectly at the end. That nose."
Papyrus narrowed his eyes and Flowey very quickly found himself boot deep in the snow. Struggling to right himself, he watched as the skeleton trudged off into town.
"Hey, don't just leave me here. Snow covers up scents you know. What if you need to sniff me out? With that incredible nose of yours?"
"LIKE YOU HAVE A NOSE EITHER." Papyrus shouted back.
Flowey craned his neck to see, "I don't need a nose. I'm a flower!"
Papyrus turned on his heels, "AND I'M A FUCKING SKELETON."
They stared at each other for a while longer, both fuming. Eventually, Flowey tried to shuffle forwards, which ended with him face-planting into the snow. Even from a distance, Flowey could hear Papyrus sigh.
Snow crunching under his feet, Papyrus made his way back to Flowey and grabbed him by the back of the boot.
"Sno-way did I think you were gonna come back for me." Flowey muttered as he shook white powder off his face.
The skeleton groaned, "YOU GOT THAT FROM SANS DIDN'T YOU?"
Flowey looked at him in mock horror, "How Rudolf you, my puns are freshly sourced."
Papyrus thought for a minute, "I-CY… THAT FOR THE RECORD IS ONE OF SANS'."
The two chuckled softly, the truce between them becoming easier and easier to maintain for a few brief seconds. Even if Papyrus hated Sans' puns, they did do a good job of breaking the ice. "C'mon, let's get back to him."
"AGREED." Papyrus threw the flower up on his shoulder, trusting that he'd use his vines to grab hold.
Slightly startled, Flowey acted fast and wrapped a vine through Papyrus' collar bone to steady himself. The skeleton tried very hard not to flinch as Flowey did so, the memory of the flower's attack still fresh in Papyrus' mind.
But he pushed it away.
This was about Sans. Flowey helped Sans live, so Papyrus would bring him back to his brother.
No matter what it took.
Once settled, Flowey reminded Papyrus that he still needed some monster food to regain the rest of his HP. Human chocolate could only do so much.
"I KNOW. ALTHOUGH…" Papyrus rubbed his chin, "THE QUICKER WE GET BACK THE QUICKER I CAN BERATE SANS FOR HIS LAZINESS."
"And the quicker I can tell him about you cracking puns."
Papyrus gave him a sharp look, "DON'T YOU DARE!"
Flowey merely grinned.
They did indeed end up stopping at Sans and Papyrus' old house. Papyrus popped into the kitchen and emerged seconds later with a half eaten cinnamon bunny in his hand. Once it was finished, the pair left the house and began the journey home.
"okay how about this one, how did the dead flowers come back? they rose up from the ground. getit, rose. no? alright." Sans sighed and petted the flowers, "don't worry sweetheart, i've got a skele-ton of puns left yet."
Finishing off the last of the food he'd brought for himself, Sans curled up on the flower patch.
"i'm just goin' to sleep for a bit first, i promise i'll carry on after." His hand curling subconsciously around his save star, Sans soon fell asleep.
What seemed like seconds later, he found himself lying face up on his bed, the one in his house on the surface. This was strange for two reasons, the first being that he was there at all, and the second that the bed was made. He couldn't remember ever making his bed.
A laugh broke through the silence and he turned onto his side. To his surprise, he found Frisk lying next to him, dark auburn hair covering most of their face.
"sweetheart?"
"Morning sleepy head, or I should say afternoon. You make such cute sounds when you sleep, sorry if I woke you up laughing."
Sans didn't reply, just remained staring at them. And for that one second, everything was perfect. Then that second ended as he realised they shouldn't be here, they couldn't be here.
"Sans? You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."
That's because he- wait a minute. How could Frisk see him?
Shakily he leant forwards to brush their of hair out of their flower covered eyes; but as soon as he touched Frisk, they exploded into a cloud of dust and petals. Blinded, Sans pulled back and fell out of bed. He didn't hit the floor like he expected, instead the ground below him seemed to open up, and he fell down, down down down...
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" came the ghostly echo of Frisk's voice. Sans looked around wildly, not knowing where their voice came from, "Did you really think I'd let you forget? You didn't do enough, Sans. You let me die."
"you're not frisk," Sans muttered, trying to block out their voice as he tumbled through the darkness, "frisk wouldn't say that, even if it is true."
"You're right," continued the voice, "it is true." Their laugh filled the air, once so sweet and kind, now laced with malice and spite.
This wasn't Frisk, not his Frisk. Not his sweetheart.
"If you really love me, you'll come join me here." Petal covered fingers ghosted over his hand. "Won't you join me Sans?"
But he yearned, oh how he yearned for anything that reminded him of Frisk. Even if it wasn't his Frisk.
"i… can't you just reset?"
"Selfish as always, Sans," they said mockingly. "After all I did, you just want to throw it all away?"
"no! no i, i would never!"
"So what's stopping you? What's stopping you from joining me? Do it."
His fall ended abruptly, and he was on his knees, save star pressing into his hand, in the flowers. Their flowers.
Sans collapsed into them, burying his face in their sickly sweet scent, the smell he'd so often tried to avoid but would give anything to get back. But only if he could get back his sweetheart too.
Pale tears fell through his hands, scattering amongst the flowers, painting them red; but even then he couldn't tell if he was still dreaming or not.
"sweetheart?"
"Do it," the voiced whispered again. An echo or perhaps the real thing. Sans didn't know.
Shakily he sat up and brought the save star to hover before his chest, grey soul blinking uncertainly.
And all of a sudden, the bitterness left the imposter Frisk's voice. They blinked, and they were his Frisk again. "No! SANS!"
But it was too late; and he was no longer dreaming.
"i'm comin' sweetheart," he murmured, "just like you asked…just… like you… wanted..."
Morning light fluttered down, highlighting Dust particles that floated up and around the flowers. The Dust settled softly, kissing the flowers ever so gently, with such love and kindness.
The haunting beauty of the scene demanded attention, it demanded to be seen.
But nobody came.
…
Ten days. It had been ten days since Papyrus had brought Flowey out of the ruins. Ten days he'd been in this house without Sans.
"Anything?" Flowey asked for the hundredth time as Papyrus walked into the living room one Sunday morning.
Papyrus shook his head, sleep making him groggy, "IT WOULD SEEM MY BROTHER HAS LEFT FOR GOOD."
"Maybe he went back underground?"
"ASHAMED OF HIMSELF?" Papyrus commented, sitting down on the sofa.
"N-no, well… maybe. I don't know." Flowey sighed, "Maybe I don't know him as well as I thought."
Papyrus scratched his chin, "MY BROTHER IS A VERY CLOSED OFF MONSTER. I SUPPOSE THE HUMAN KNEW HIM BEST."
"What about you?"
"ME?" Papyrus said incredulously, "NYEH, DON'T MAKE ME LAUGH. WE QUARREL AT BEST. I'VE BEEN THIS CLOSE TO DUSTING HIM COUNTLESS TIMES."
Flowey hummed in reluctant agreement, "He's said."
"I SUPPOSE I DO KNOW SOME THINGS." Papyrus admitted, counting with his fingers as he spoke, "I KNOW HE MISSES YOU. I KNOW HE LIKES TO VISIT THE HUMAN'S GRAVE - LIKE YOU DO. I KNOW HE MISSES THEM TOO," he let his hand drop to his side, masking his emotions with a sneer. "BUT ANY IDIOT KNOWS THAT," Papyrus trailed off, and silence fell between the two.
Papyrus refused to admit that the gnawing sensation in his soul was guilt, and Flowey felt consumed by the very same feeling.
He should never have left. They had promised - such a rare thing for Sans to do - to stay together.
And he had broke that promise.
"I think I know where he is."
Papyrus nods, "SO DO I. BUT HE SAID IN HIS NOTE TO LEAVE HIM BE, THOUGH IN SLIGHTLY MORE WORDS."
"He said that you wouldn't be able to leave him be," Flowey said, pointing at Papyrus with a leaf, "And maybe he'll want to see me?"
A scoff, "I THOUGHT THE WHOLE POINT IN YOU LEAVING WAS BECAUSE HE COULDN'T STAND THE SIGHT OF YOU."
Flowey sighed, "You wouldn't understand…" he muttered quietly, but Papyrus still heard.
"WHY DO PEOPLE KEEP SAYING THAT? I KNOW HOW MUCH MY BROTHER LOV-" he couldn't bring himself to say it. "HOW FOND HE WAS OF THE HUMAN. I FUCKING KNOW."
Papyrus threw his arms up in the air, while Flowey looked on in shock, not knowing how to deal with this Papyrus that actually recognised positive emotions.
The skeleton carried on regardless, "I KNOW THEY WERE IMPORTANT TO HIM AND NOW THEY'RE GONE AND HE'S MOPING ABOUT ALL THE TIME, LITERALLY DOING NOTHING."
"He's been that bad?"
"HADN'T LEFT HIS ROOM SINCE YOU LEFT." Flowey looked ready to cry until Papyrus corrected himself. "NO WAIT. HE LEFT HIS ROOM ONCE TO BITCH AT ME."
"Oh..."
Papyrus didn't seem to realise that Flowey sounded broken. "AND THEN I GO AND FIND YOU FOR HIM, YOU ALMOST KILL ME, THANKS FOR THAT BY THE WAY. THEN WE GET BACK, AND HE'S BLOODY VANISHED."
"I'm going to go get him," Flowey said with renewed strength, pulling himself towards the door.
Groaning loudly, Papyrus stood up and swiftly gathered Flowey up in one hand. "I JUST GOT UP, BUT FINE."
"Y-you don't have to come," Flowey said startled, leaning away from Papyrus slightly.
"OF COURSE I DO. I MISS MY BROTHER TOO."
Flowey blinked, then smiled for the first time in days, "Aww," he teased, "Is the Great Papyrus going sof-"
"DO NOT. I MEANT I MISS SHOUTING AT HIM, NOTHING ELSE."
"Sure," Flowey said with a knowing smile.
Papyrus refused to look him in the eye. "LET'S JUST GO."
Their second trip back through the underground passed surprisingly quickly - Flowey fell asleep somewhere near the end of the hotlands, and when he woke, they were already in the ruins.
As Papyrus walked into the clearing, Flowey saw that he'd been wrong.
Sans wasn't here.
Crestfallen, he slipped off Papyrus' shoulders and made his way over to the golden flowers.
"I was so sure he'd be here, I thought he'd-" he cut himself off as he noticed something golden glinting underneath the flower bed.
He gently pushed the flowers covering it aside and almost choked. There, resting beneath golden flowers, lay Sans' save star, half buried in a pile of Dust.
"No no no no no… No, no it can't be. No, I d-don- NO!"
Papyrus strode over, bending down to get a closer look at what Flowey had discovered. "URGH WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, WHAT HAVE YOU F- FOUND…"
The pair were silent for a second as the truth came crashing down on them both.
Eventually, Flowey broke the silence and turned to face Papyrus.
"Tell me he's not- he can't be d- he wouldn't leave me…"
"YOU LEFT HIM." Papyrus stated matter-of-factly, refusing to look at Flowey.
"That was different! I didn't leave… p-permanently I…"
"NO YOU JUST ABANDONED HIM FOR THE 'GREATER GOOD'. PAH. NO SUCH THING. AND NOW HE'S FUCKING DEAD. HE'S DEAD..." Papyrus laid his hand on the save star and it sunk further down into the Dust, releasing a cloud of grey as it did so. Particles clung to Papyrus' hand and he froze, "OH GOD… HE'S DEAD."
Flowey shook his head furiously, shedding pieces of brown petals. "I refuse, he can't be d-dead, he just ca-"
"YOU DID THIS." Papyrus shouted at the flower, "IF YOU HADN'T'VE LEFT NONE OF THIS WOULD'VE HAPPENED."
"I… I thought I was doing what was best, he said himself that it would be easier without me." Flowey remember that little confession all too well.
"EASIER FOR HIM TO OFF HIMSELF YOU MEAN." Papyrus raked his hands down his face.
Flowey had no response to that because, as horrible as the statement was, it seemed to be true. It was true.
"THIS ISN'T FAIR. YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN THERE FOR HIM. YOU SHOULD HAVE-"
"What about you?" Flowey stated angrily, "You obviously weren't there for him either."
Papyrus began pacing back and forth before the flower patch, "I DON'T KNOW HOW TO BE THERE FOR HIM. ALL I SEEM TO DO IS UPSET HIM."
"You and me both…"
With a sigh Papyrus sat himself down next to Flowey, "GUESS WE'RE ALL SCREW UPS, HUH?"
There was a pause, the silence broken only by a harsh mumble, still audible, but significantly quieter than Papyrus' usual tone of voice, "IT'S PROBABLY MY FAULT."
"W-what?" Flowey exclaimed, uncertain as to whether he'd understood correctly.
"YOU HEARD!" Papyrus' voice was back to normal. "I'M NOT REPEATING MYSELF."
"Thank you, Papyrus."
Instead of complaining like he usually would, Papyrus just let out an exasperated breath.
"It takes a lot to admit that," Flowey thought for a moment, "but I don't think it's anyone's fault. Not really."
Still no real answer from the skeleton.
"And thanks for coming to find me, before I mean. Thanks for bringing me back."
"URGH," Papyrus snapped, shuffling his feet, "PLEASE STOP… THANKING ME. I GET IT. NOW STOP."
Flowey glanced at the save star and squeezed his eyes shut in pain. "Okay," he whispered.
He opened them when he felt himself being picked up.
"W-what are you doing?"
Papyrus shrugged, "NO POINT IT STAYING HERE. SANS IS… HIS DUST IS SCATTERED OVER WHAT HE L-LOVED MOST IN THE WORLD." He cast his eyes down and put Flowey on his shoulder, "THERE'S NOTHING MORE WE CAN DO. IT'S TIME TO GO HOME."
"Home?"
A nod, "WE MIGHT AS WELL STICK TOGETHER." Papyrus said gruffly. "YOU'RE NOT ALL THAT BAD AND I'M GONNA NEED SOMEONE TO ARGUE WITH NOW THAT… NOW THAT SANS-"
Flowey placed a vine gently on Papyrus' hand. "It's okay, you don't have to say it," he smiled despite the tears welling in his eyes, "Let's go home."
Another nod, "HOME."
Time passed.
Things changed.
Flowey's petals lost most, if not all, of their golden beauty; and he began to require more and more energy to do even the simplest of tasks. Neither he nor Papyrus talked about this.
Papyrus found himself a new hobby - cooking. It wasn't much, but he found it was a way to let out his anger.
Him and Flowey still argued, mostly about trivial things; they didn't dare bring up Sans, not yet.
But one day, Papyrus came across an abandoned sock with a post-it note stuck to it. The post-it note simply read 'sorry.'
That was the first time Flowey saw Papyrus cry.
"YOU KNOW," he said sniffling, "THE LAST THING SANS ACTUALLY SAID TO ME, FACE TO FACE, WAS THAT I'D NEVER KNOW WHAT IT WOULD FEEL LIKE TO BE HOPELESS AND SCARED AND TO MISS SOMEONE SO MUCH." There was a pause as Papyrus wiped his tears away and proceeded to stare off into nothing, feeling none of the anger he'd felt from that day.
Never, for as long as he could remember, had Papyrus ever wanted to take back what he'd said. Never had he regretted his words or actions as much as he did in that very second, he should never have shouted at his brother and left him to his own inhibitions.
"HE WAS WRONG. I DO. I KNOW EXACTLY WHAT IT FEELS LIKE."
Flowey nodded softly, "We both do."
Sans hadn't known what to expect, a bright light perhaps, an immense golden gate like in the human films he'd seen, a boat to the land of the dead… But he'd expected something, anything even, anything at all.
Instead he found his words had no sound, his eyes saw only black, and he felt no pain. The only thing he felt was the bed of buttercups his Dust had fallen upon and through. He felt soft petals all around him, pressing up against him, smothering him, strangling him. Yet he did nothing to resist it, Sans couldn't find will to do anything except endure.
Minutes passed, hours, days. Years. Sans wasn't sure. There was no way to measure time.
Then out of the darkness came a voice - the voice of an angel, Sans assumed.
A soft yellow glow filled his vision and he gladly went towards it, dragging his flower heavy limbs out of the soil he'd been pulled into. He reached out, blinded by the sudden light, and his fingers brushed against something solid, something that didn't - couldn't give way. Not anymore. Not to him.
The angel gripped his hand and as soon as they did, the feeling of the flowers faded. Sans stood up and embraced the angel with such force he almost knocked them both over.
They stayed like that for a while and when Sans looked up, he saw familiar golden flowers. But then, he'd been expecting that.
Delicately he stroked each one, remembering them all. These petals would be the only ones to ever decorate his angel, his sweetheart. It was no longer a race to get 'out', to survive, to stop the spread of buttercups.
Time no longer mattered; for how can you count seconds once you run out of petals to kiss?