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Asgore was gone. Like, gone gone.
When Napstablook got home late that evening, they had told her that he had also been filed as a missing person, the same as Undyne.
She can't really say she's worried about him- Well, she's a little, little, little worried, but it's really his own fault he left his backdoor unlocked! In the middle of night no less! Like really, what did he expect?
Of course, she only knew that because she was there, the night of his disappearance, having slipped out through that very door, but it wasn't her! She had no idea what happened to him!
After all, she had been dreaming.
She had fallen asleep sometime late dusk, after the festival ended and the monsters clambered back home from their merrymaking. She had broken into that flower store (by simply floating through the door because that's what ghosts do, locked or unlocked door be damned) to possess that beautiful, perfect Mew Mew doll Asgore proudly displayed.
And in her dream… She was her. She was with that Mew Mew doll. And not only was she her, but she was somewhere magical, somewhere beyond her imagination. A world of blooming gardens and towering cliffs and many setting suns, awashing the world in pastel colors. She could have stared at that glorious sunset forever. And she had made… Friends. Her little Ory, who she initially fashioned to be prey for her new body, but soon was charmed by the little pipsqueak. How could she resist a cutie who thought of her as a big sister? The mouse was enamored by her (faux) confidence and her (new and uncontrollable) powers. She couldn't turn down her offer to join the rest of those flowers.
It had been so long since she had a friend group. Hanging out with those flowers… Fighting that strange gang of teenagers… Seeing that wonderful world… Living and breathing and feeling her heart beating in her chest, being called Pink and-
It was a lovely dream. One that ended with her waking up in the dim light of Asgore’s back living space, limp while possessing the Mew Mew doll. Realizing she had overslept, she hightailed it out of there before she could register what had happened. Before she could register the mess, the unlocked back door, the disappearance of Asgore, the “Flower King” of her dream.
She was surprised that she could even fall back asleep that night, as jittery as she was. In fact, she had greatly overslept, accidentally wasting the whole day, only leaving her room when Blooky got home that night.
And yet, now that she was awake, she found herself restless. Pacing around her room, looking out her window at the shop next door, as if it would suddenly disappear if she took her eyes off of it. She wasn't worried about Asgore, he was a grown man, he could take care of himself and when he and Undyne had been found everything would go back to normal-
But those flowers. She had seen them. Faintly lighted by ceiling lamps, were seven multicolored flowers. She knew then- and she knows now, that her dream wasn't real, that those flowers weren't real people. And yet, she couldn't help but worry. She knew the Flower King was a one man shop, and with Asgore gone, it left a burning question in her mind- who would take care of them? Who would take care of those flowers in the meantime?
She felt stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid, they are just flowers! And not even the pretty pink types she actually likes looking at! And yet, because of that dream- that dream where those flowers were her friend- she was too concerned that they would wilt away without his care.
The residual instincts from her dream kept flaring up- she felt like stomping her legs and clawing her paws through her hair in frustration. Even though she can't do that and never could, because it was never real!
Eventually, she resigned herself. Her flower friends being real or not, it didn't change her real, overstated exasperation. Inaction wouldn't ease her soul, much to her chagrin. If there was nobody to take care of the flowers… Then she must pick up the slack for Asgore. He'd owe her, for sure! But for now…
That night, she snuck out of her residence. She took a peak out of her door, making sure none of her weird monster neighbors were out and about, before floating her way over to the flower shop. The front door was blocked off by police tape, courtesy of Napstablook. The back door however was unblocked, and also, still unlocked. Unbelievable! She snorted to herself as she flew inside.
The inside of the Flower King was… Unchanged from how it was the night before. A dark, dirty backroom with spilled soil and scattered pages across the floor. An unmade bed, gardening tools laying about, a TV that was flipped upside down for some reason (?), and a centerpiece of seven flowers, dimly lit by their overhead suns. A disaster, as she would put it. She'd better get started before somebody noticed she broke in, again.
She hovered to the center, around the flowers encased in clear glass. Actually… Getting closer, something was a little off. A space on the table just big enough for a case was empty, and there was a mound of soil and glass fragments in the middle of the floor. Jeez, did someone knock one over? Did she knock it over? Regardless, it looked like whatever occupant of that enclosure fell was moved to another one. The bright yellow and blue ones were sharing a home, bent around each other in their confined space. It looked a little uncomfortable, but she guessed it made sense. Blue and Yellow had a thing for each other, as she recalled. They would dance around each other, giving each other gifts and proclaiming themselves as lovers. So she guessed they wouldn't mind sharing-
If they were real. If they were real ones from her dream, and weren't just flowers. Which they aren't. Idiot.
Putting aside thoughts of Blue’s marvelous outfits and Yellow’s cartoon antics, the ghost lifted up the glass around the purple flower (Seth, right?) and put it to the side. It swayed a little in the motion. If she still had lips, they would be pursed together as she thought of her next steps. She'd never actually taken care of any flowers of her own before, but they were just flowers, it couldn't be too hard, right? They just needed, like, water.
She picked up a spare watering pail off the floor. Those were everywhere in her dream, actually, so that was probably a good sign? She brought it over to a worn down sink, turning it on and filling the pail with presumably cold, clean water. She could see bits of dirt and green float to the skim of the water as it filled, which was gross! But flowers already lived in dirt so it was fine, probably.
Once it was decently filled, she brought it over to the table and over the violet flower. With a hum, she tipped the pail over. And then she immediately brought it back up because oh angel above, she messed up.
The cases for the flowers weren't pots in the traditional sense, and rather were just a flat base with a coaster of dirt on it. So when she poured, the water simply slid off the table and onto the floor, taking clumps of dirt with it. She could see the roots of the floret, having been exposed in the wake of her mini tsunami.
Shit. Shit. Shit!
She mumbled desperate apologies to the little flower (sorry, sorry, sorry, Seth!) as she worked to mold the soil back together, grimacing in disgust as she scooped some clamps of damp soil off the ground and pressing it together to blanket the roots of the poor plant. Eventually, she restored the habitat to a state resembling how she found it. The blossom had bent a little from the impact of the water, so she lifted it back up straight.
In her work, she briefly found herself wondering if it would be easier or harder with those paws, if she would be gentle, or if she would simply tear through their stem with her claws. She still saw herself as Pink, saw the version of herself she desired, like looking through a shard of glass.
Well, that didn't work. At all. She wrecked her brain for a solution on how to water this bouquet of flowers without absolutely ruining them.
What did they have in her dream anyway? Cheese? Fucking cheese? Green would make them all cheese? That's unworkable. That little fantasy world of hers was more nonsense than she cared to remember. Still, she does regret not asking for some sage advice on how to actually care for them, were the flower shop ever to officially go belly up.
In her folly, in her sheer frustration that made her want to flick and bristle a tail she never had- she considered asking someone in the morning. Who in this isolated town would even be of help? Toriel, maybe? No wait, wasn't that his ex, she might not want to help at all actually!
She took desperate glances around the store, digging through cabinets to find anything that she could use. Eventually, she landed on a small spray bottle, a little water still pooled at the bottom. She gave the tab an experimental tap, spraying a trickle of mist out in the dead air. Yeah, that should do it, she was sooo smart and definitely could be trusted with the task she gave herself!
After refilling the bottle she found herself back in front of the table. She doused the violet sprout in a spritz of water, watching the petals shimmer in the dull lamplight. She considered if she should do more…? Do the plants need more than just water? That should be fine, right? She resigned to just leave it like that, replacing the container over the flower. She then moved further down the line, releasing the cyan colored flower from its prison and giving it the same care she did before. As she caged the flower again, she could see the glass would condensate with trapped moisture after being sealed, making it difficult to see the florets in the fogged case.
A vague memory resurfaces as she blinks, of the hot springs in Asgore’s castle. The way Seth’s glasses would fog up as they relaxed in the bath. The way Aqua would splash around in the water, chanting phrases she found humorous but definitely didn't understand the meaning of, getting the bookworm's hair soaked. It would be fun to hang out with them again-
If they were ever real. Which they weren't. She shook her head, trying (and failing) to clear her thoughts as she continued her work. The next in line was a golden flower, (wasn't he named Flowery?) but it had a particular difference to the others. Wrapped around the base of the stem was some tape, light glinting off of the silvery back. The plant looked… Weaker than the others, in a way she couldn't put her paw on. It reminded her of the TV Mettaton received recently that he was obsessed with, it being patched up by tape in a similar manner.
That was from those teens she saw in her dream too, wasn't it? She saw them carrying the TV into her house after all. Maybe that's why they appeared in her dream. Too bad she'll never be able to look that blue person in the eyes ever again! Didn't they say something about going to their Castle Town? If she talked to the real version of that monster, (Was it Suzy…?) Would she be kind? Or would she try to rip her apart like wet tissue?
She carefully misted the gilded bloom before resealing him. Her mind draws near blank on memories about Flowery, something that should be a blessing, considering he was kind of obnoxious, but really, was bothering her. She talked with him a few times, but he seemed primarily occupied by Asgore rather than his siblings. Actually, the goat monster didn't really talk to her either. What a jerk! She huffed as she released the two lovers from their case, the two unfurling around each other in the open space. She gave the two extra dustings of water, (Because there being two of them means they need more water? Probably?) and then she twirled the two around each other and closed them off. She really, really, really hopes they enjoy themselves.
She eyed the orange flower… And then skipped over it. Instead she opened up the green one. Green… They were pretty quiet, right? But Ory liked them a lot, she remembered. They really seemed to believe in her, the same way she herself did. And that made them alright by her. A few light sprays and she covered them again.
As she took off the last case she could feel her motions halting. She should just finish this and be done with it! But instead, she ran her ghostly touch over the petals of the orange flower. She can't keep being in denial about this. She missed them. She missed her flower friends and wishes she could go back. She wants to dream again. She wants to see their dream again. She wants to see her little sister again.
In her daze, she feels the tiniest, minute snap under her grasp. She jerks away, panic rising, and she imagines if she still had a heart it would be pounding in her chest. No, no, no, she didn't, did she-!
She didn't break the petal off. It was crooked, but it still clung onto the base by a thread. Orange was strong, stronger than most would give her credit for. She admired the little mousy and her courage, and her unwavering desire to be human, to be something beyond herself. (Because, didn't she feel the same?) She would be fine, without a doubt! But she can't hold onto her like that. Ory was only a little flower, after all. She gently bent the petal back into place, whispering apologies and giving the bloom a couple sprays of mist. With a little reluctance, she sealed the sprout back up, and watched it disappear into the fog.
She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. They were ok, they were going to be ok until Asgore got back, she vows to make it so. She thinks, not for the first time, that she can relate to him. Relate to caring for something that's not real. Mettaton too, actually. He was really attached to that new TV of his. (He would call it Tenna?) Maybe it's nice, to be able to care without receiving anything back. Maybe this is how she is supposed to show her love.
Maybe, maybe, maybe she should talk to someone else about actual, proper flower care. If she obscured why she needed to know, she's sure Toriel would give her a few tips. It was a mortifying idea, but she could be brave enough to do it. (If little Ory could, maybe she can, too.)
She returns the bottle where she found it, and tries to make it seem like nobody was ever there. Same time tomorrow, perhaps? Or is it better to take care of flowers during the day…? But she's worried about being heckled by neighbors, asking why she's breaking and entering a missing man's house. She should probably tell Blooky about this, unless she wants to end up in cuffs… Nah, there's no way they'd do that to her! Especially since she's doing such a nice, charitable thing!
Actually… The seven flowers aren't the only ones here. Don't… all the flowers in the shop need to be watered? Weren't her friends… Also friends with all the other bouquets? Does she need to…
Oh, Asgore was going to owe, owe, owe her!!!