Chapter Text
There is a voice calling his name.
It’s familiar, but distant now.
Growing further, and further away.
He recognizes it, he must.
But he can’t reach it anymore.
He’s fallen too far down already.
He’s weightless.
Weightless.
Falling.
Then-
BAM.
Feeling returns to his limbs all at once, and he immediately cringes at the sharp pain radiating from the front half of his body.
The boy groans softly into countless petals that have braced his fall, saving him from a rather unfortunate, painful fate.
Dragging himself up onto shaking arms, he stares down at an endless field of gold.
Wait, not quite endless.
There, the edge of the flower bed, the golden petals reflecting distant light from above.
Above-
Sam’s eyes widen as he throws his head up, wildly glancing at either edge of the hole into this abyss.
There is nothing.
There is no one.
“Dean!?” he yells out, straining his ears for that voice.
The voice calling his name.
He can’t hear it anymore.
“DEAN!” he yells out with all his might, but even with the echo that carries his voice up and up and up… a gut feeling tells him it isn’t enough to reach the open air.
The outside.
Freedom.
The boy slumps back down into the golden petals, hands drawn close to his chest.
Where…
Where even is he?
There, not too far ahead.
Something is moving.
He approaches hesitantly, arms held out defiantly in front of him.
Balling them into fists, he takes a deep breath and steps up to the isolated flower planted into the ground.
Why is this one-?
“Howdy!”
Sam definitely does not scream out loud and jump.
He, in fact, only begrudgingly lowers his arm and stares idly down at the talking flower.
The talking flower.
Did he get kidnapped by a Djinn?
Oh god… had he been poisoned?
“Hey- Hey! Earth to human?” the voice yells out again, high-pitched and irritating.
Sam snaps back to the present, making eye contact with the thing.
It rolls its eyes before clearing its throat and continuing on with its speech.
“Howdy, human! I’m Flowey, Flowey the Flower!”
Sam stares tiredly down at the flower.
What kind of monster is this again?
He tries to rack his brain, every page of every book on the supernatural he’s ever read.
There’s quite a lot to sift through but none of it ever mentioned talking… flowers.
Maybe he’s dreaming.
“Oh, you know what- I’m not pretending to be nice to a brat who doesn’t even listen!”
That instantly gets Sam’s attention.
The placating, faux-sweet tone is gone, replaced by genuine irritation and an underlying malice.
Something heavy leaps out of his chest, and he feels his breath being ripped from him.
He starts, a short yell escaping him as he regards the floating glowing light in front of him.
It radiates a deep, radiant blue.
“Hah! Integrity, eh?” the flower taunts, a twisted grin forming on its face. “I guess there’s no saving you.”
It begins to laugh maniacally and, for the first time since he’s fallen, Sam’s blood runs cold as he recognizes true danger.
White pellets have materialized around the glowing shape that has risen out of his chest.
He doesn’t know why or how, but somehow he knows-
He knows he can’t let those pellets touch it.
But there’s a problem.
He can’t seem to move.
His heart jumps into his throat at the realization, and just as those white specks are about to graze him, a ring of fire nearly singes his eyebrows as it explodes just before him.
The flower in front of him screeches with more annoyance than pain, and vanishes without a trace. Sam eyes the spot with wide eyes. Then, he slowly looks up at a rather giant, fluffy goat-looking monster.
At least… he thinks it’s a monster.
Oh man, just how screwed is he?
“What a horrible creature, tormenting such an innocent soul!” the monster speaks, and in the blink of an eye, all of Sam’s trepidation has vanished.
The voice, so full of love and worry, embraces him from all sides.
This is stupid, he reminds himself.
You shouldn’t be letting your guard down like this.
He gingerly makes his way back up to his feet, brushing his scraped knees and eyeing the fluffy woman with knit eyebrows.
She regards him with a fond look, reaching one hand out.
Or paw.
Leg?
Sam tries not to think too hard about it.
“I am Toriel, caretaker of the Ruins. It’s alright now, child. You are safe.”
Don’t trust this, the voice insists.
His dad would kill him if he saw this.
He should be running away, fighting back-
Anything.
What the hell is he doing?
His hand has long since grasped the woman’s own, and she smiles lovingly down at him.
“My dear boy, what is your name?”
He’s not sure he can blurt it out just yet.
Noticing the troubled look on the child’s face, Toriel eases her hold, straightening back to her full height.
Despite her friendly nature, it is still intimidating.
“You do not have to say anything, my child,” she assures him. “As long as you are safe.”
Without another word, she gently tugs his arm in the direction of a cavern branching out into the unknown. It is the maw of a cave, previously invisible to him thanks to the direct light from the surface.
The surface-!
He suddenly shakes his hand free of hers, bolting back to the golden field of flowers. He looks back up, breath catching in his throat, hands reaching up to cup around his mouth.
“DEAN!” he screams up again, desperation tinging his voice with fear.
Dean’s still up there.
Dean’s still looking for him!
“Dean!!! Please!”
He has to reach him.
He has to get back!
Dad’s going to…
Dad’s going to-!
His heart skips a beat at the thought of Dean returning home empty-handed.
Dad’s going to kill him.
Dad’s going to kill me!
His eyes are starting to burn, his lip is trembling despite his will to keep a stoic facade.
A gentle hand rests itself on his shoulder just as the first sob racks through his body, and he falls down into the field, burying his wet face into scratched palms.
“I have to- please…” he mutters desperately, and then, he is being drawn into a grounding embrace. Toriel holds him still, cradling his head.
He cries for a frankly embarrassing amount of time, at the very least a full minute. He never lets himself do this at home.
God, he’s being such a crybaby right now!
“My dear child,” the woman speaks, eyes closed and voice somber. “It is difficult to find this place, but once you’ve fallen… I am afraid there is no simple way back up.”
Dislodging himself from her hold, Sam eyes the goat woman with wet eyes.
“I h-have to get back,” he decides, expression hardening. “I have to.”
It seems the conviction in his eyes takes her off guard, her own widening with genuine astonishment. Then, her face splits into a gentle smile.
“You’re a strong one, aren’t you?”
The way she says it speaks volumes, a history Sam can’t possibly know just beneath the surface.
“I’m going to get back to my brother,” he promises himself, and the woman in front of him. They aren’t the words of a fallen, injured child. They are the candid truth spoken by a soul ablaze with purpose.
“Will you help me?” he asks, moving to take hold of the purple robe framing her body.
She starts at the question, looking down at the small hand now holding her in place.
Quietly ruminating, she eventually places a heavy hand upon his own.
“I will do my best,” she answers softly, looking up at the light radiating from the open sky.
When Sam joins her with his own glance up at the heavens, he feels something in his chest solidify.
Grow stronger.
The sight of freedom up above and the knowledge that he will do everything it takes to stay true to his word and see Dean again-
It fills him with INTEGRITY.