Chapter Text
Right on cue, the crack in the ceiling of the next room. Flowey goes over his introduction monologue as Clover takes their second fall of the day– as far as they’re aware, anyway. They’ve fallen so many times in the time Flowey’s known them.
‘For someone named Clover, they sure are unlucky,’ Flowey catches himself thinking again. At least it’s an amusing thought whenever it comes up. Even more so when he says it aloud to Clover, and they frown like he’s affronted their very existence. If only they knew.
The break. Clover yelps, startled as they fall. Toriel calls out to them to say she’ll bring some rope. Retreating footsteps. Etcetera, etcetera. He’s got five minutes– or until Clover finds their footing, but it usually doesn’t take long. Flowey waits in position.
Except a sharp, pained noise splits the otherwise still air. It came from Clover for sure– Flowey is well acquainted with all the sounds they make when they get hurt. But this part pretty much always goes smoothly. Flowey pops up from the ground, eyeing the entry to the room and tilting his head.
…It’s early in the run. It wouldn't hurt to check. Leave it to Clover to get hurt when barely anything’s happened yet. Flowey rolls his eyes and disappears into the ground again.
When he comes back up, Clover’s sitting in the patch of golden flowers as usual, the light from the Ruins a soft spotlight on them. (Now that he thinks about it, he did put those there because Clover would sometimes die on impact. Great times.) They hold their hatted head with one hand and rub their calf with the other, wincing. Maybe they just fell wrong, or something.
Flowey clears his throat to get Clover’s attention. “Howdy, bud! Looks like you–”
Clover’s gaze shoots up and they freeze in place. “T-Talking–”
“Flower? I assure you, I’m the same as any other monster down here in the Underground!” he lies as easily as he breathes, throwing out a friendly wink for good measure. “My name’s Flowey! Flowey the Flower! And you, my friend, look pretty confused. Didn’t Toriel teach ya how things work around here?”
Clover stares blankly at Flowey, blinking comically slowly at him. “...I fell.”
“I can sure see that! Silly you!”
They just look even more confused. Deviating from the regular script is a little fun every now and then.
“Tell you what; how about I take her place? I’ll teach you how to keep yourself safe down here. Sound good?”
Clover hesitantly nods. Finally, progress. Flowey summons his reliable semicircle of ‘friendliness pellets’. Can’t believe that name stuck.
“Here in the Underground, monsters may try to attack you! If you see bullets like these, you should avoid them at all costs! Try dodging them now!”
Flowey sends the spinning bullets in Clover’s general direction. They’re…a bit slow to react. Clover doesn’t get up, but they do try to scoot out of the way– only for them to flinch like lightning struck them. A few bullets graze their cheek and side.
“Golly, you okay there, buddy?” Flowey leans forward slightly, feigning concern. “You’ve got the reflexes of a stone statue, lemme tell ya!”
“Sorry…” Clover returns to rubbing at their leg, a tight expression flashing across their face. “...I must’ve landed on my leg wrong. And I think I hit my head a little.”
That’s when Flowey’s face falls slightly. Great, they’re already injured. He can’t remember what he did last time Clover got hurt like this here– he probably just preemptively reset. Besides, at the pace this is going, Toriel will be back any second now and this run will hit a dead-end– as it always does when she’s involved. But he keeps pushing, anyway.
“Well that won’t do. We should get you outta here then, huh? You’ll end up monster food at this rate!”
Clover looks back where they fell through, hesitation again clouding their judgement. “But Toriel–”
“You could wait for her,” Flowey makes a show of leaning side to side to emphasize the options, “but I’ll bet you want to go home. And Toriel…she won’t let you go, you know. You’ll be stuck in these ruins forever!”
Flowey knows Clover doesn’t actually want to go home. Their reasons, he never cared to ask. But they do care about finding the missing humans…and Flowey knows what buttons to press to get them moving in that direction. Like clockwork, Clover’s face settles on resolve, and they turn away from the light of the Ruins above with a determined nod.
“That’s the spirit! Come on; up and at ‘em!”
Clover gets up with a great deal of effort, pain twisting their face whenever they put any weight on their hurt leg. Flowey watches on with an encouraging smile that’s maybe a bit too wide for him. It never gets old seeing them struggle. Once Clover is standing, Flowey moves to the exit, beckoning Clover to him with a “come on!” He needs to speed this up a little. Clover stumbles forward, but they cross the threshold eventually. Once they’re on the bridge, they cast a long look down into the darkness with a worried expression.
“Oh yeah,” Flowey turns. “Watch your step. If you fall down here, you probably won’t survive!”
The panic that briefly seizes Clover’s face is totally worth it. Still, the pace they shuffle to the next room is almost torturously slow. Their bad leg sort of drags behind them, and they stop every now and then to press circles in their temple. Flowey waits at the end of the bridge with a plastic smile. As much as he’d love to speed this up– or better, push Clover over the edge and hopefully get a better run– it’s just not that worth it. Finally, Clover makes it to the other side with a relieved sigh. Finally, they can get started for real.
“Good job, buddy! You should be safer here. How you holding up?”
“...Bad,” Clover admits. They lean against a leaf-covered wall to rest. “...How come you’re helping me?”
Maybe they hit their head harder than Flowey thought. They never question why he helps them.
“I heard you in pain back there! And I just couldn’t resist helping you out. Besides, you’re human, aren’t you? You wouldn’t last three seconds on your own!”
“Oh. Well…thank ya kindly. My name’s Clover, by the way.”
“Clover, huh? And here I thought I was the only flower down here!”
There it is; the beginnings of their stupid, trusting smile as they laugh slightly at the joke Flowey’s told them hundreds of times by this point.
“Speaking of, though, you are hurt. Not to worry; your best pal Flowey’s got ya covered! I can save your progress on your journey, so if anything bad happens to you, I can make it unhappen!”
Clover tilts their head slightly in confusion.
“Here; just look for these things if you ever wanna ensure your safety going forward!” Flowey dips below the ground, leaving a save in his place. Clover reaches out hesitantly, until they touch the save and its jingle rings throughout the room: a sound only they and Flowey can hear. Flowey pops back up again. “Just like that! Now, how do you feel?”
“Less sore, I guess?” Clover tests their leg, only to hiss in pain. “Was that supposed to fix my leg?”
“Hmm…” His saves do have their limitations, admittedly. Magical injuries are no sweat, but physical injuries– like falling– are more stubborn. Humans are weird like that. “Looks like I can’t help you there. Nothing some rest can’t fix! But not here, though. A less friendly monster might find ya.”
“Okay…guess I should get moving, then.” Clover gently pushes themself off the wall, still minding their bad leg. Flowey frowns from behind them. Clover getting hurt first thing was a little interesting, but clearly it’ll slow them down from here on out. Not to mention their slower reflexes and potential head injury. Seems like they might die a lot.
…Unless Flowey intervenes a little more directly.
“You’re never getting anywhere like that. Lemme help you out!”
Clover turns to question what kind of help Flowey is offering, but he’s already disappeared into the ground. Vines rise and climb up Clover’s legs, providing extra support on their bad one. Clover, startled, stumbles backwards, but an extra vine keeps them from falling and wraps itself around their torso. Finally, Flowey pops up on their shoulder, evaluating his handiwork.
“There. Now you won’t be limping everywhere.”
Clover doesn’t move. They do gingerly test their weight again, though. The way Flowey’s wrapped around him, their leg barely hurts at all. Even so…
“...Bit close, aren’t ‘cha?” There’s just a tinge of fluster on the edge of their voice.
“It’ll only be until we find an actual good spot for you to rest and heal up. In the meantime…think of this as a bonding activity! We’re friends, aren’t we?” Flowey leans toward them, an innocent smile plastered on his face. Clover, who clearly values their personal space, leans away.
“...Sure?”
Looks like he’ll have to work a little harder to get Clover’s trust this time around. It’ll probably be annoying…but Flowey has been feeling that the runs have been getting monotonous lately. He could use something like this. Just for some experimental fun.
…Is he really that desperate to find something that works out?
“Then let’s go! Come on, Clover, move those legs!”