Archive of Our Own

He was cold.

It was only natural for one to be cold after having their roots exposed to the air, even briefly. But that knowledge provided little comfort in the moment as his body struggled to shake off the transplant shock and acclimate to the new, unfamiliar dirt. Having the sunlamps turned off certainly wasn't helping matters, either.

You doin’ ok, Blue? he felt Yellow ask again.

Yes, I'll be fine. Thank you, Yellow. And he reassured him again. Communication via hormones. If only it could be vocal.

Given the circumstances, Yellow was being a wonderful host, or at least as wonderful as a flower was physically capable of. He pulled his roots out of the way to give Blue more room to settle in, and gradually wound his stem close to support him. There was even a (thankfully short) period where he stopped taking in nutrients to let Blue have more. At first he checked in every five minutes, until Blue finally soothed him down to only checking every hour in order to stop his petals from wilting under the weight of his worry. Did Blue have enough space, did Blue need more nitrogen, was Blue warm enough?

Unfortunately, despite his valiant effort, Yellow couldn't help with that last one. Flowers didn't generate as much heat as other living beings.

But, like Blue had insisted, he would be fine. All in due time. Until then, he would simply have to deal with feeling under the weather, hoping (in vain, he knew, from a feeling seeping deep in his roots) things wouldn’t get much worse before they got better. It really would have been nice if Kris and Susie had left the lights on, though…

As if he willed it into existence, the lamp above their glass case flicked on, alongside each of the others, one by one. Blessed, yellow warmth wafted down into their little shared container, prompting him to unfurl partially-folded petals in order to capture as much of it as he could manage, even if it would’ve been better to heat the soil first for his roots. A rare bit of greed he allowed himself. Yellow made no move to intercept, but his relief was palpable.

“Sorry to keep you guys waiting.”

Ah, that was Susie. Lost in the moment, Blue had nearly forgotten that Asgore wasn’t there.

Susie made her way into the middle of the semi-circle they’d formed, leaning forward to slowly look over each and every one of them. She lingered on Flowery’s case the longest. “We didn’t have a key to lock up last night, so I figured I’d swing by and make sure the place’s secure early. Looks like you’re all hangin’ in there…uh, I hope.” Scratching her head, she stood back up straight and began to wander around the room. “Guess you’re probably thirsty after all that, huh? Lemme see what I can do…”

Blue watched only via faint vibrations traveling up through the counter to paint his picture, too weary to process much else, as Susie retrieved Asgore’s watering can from where it sat abandoned at the corner of the room, likely filled with water that had long since gone stale, if he remembered correctly. Thankfully, rather than try to pour stagnant water into their soil, she left the room with it.

Minutes later, she returned, watering can in one hand and a small notebook in the other. “Dude, Asgore’s handwriting sucks ass. It's hella worse than mine, no wonder nobody could read it. Is that…supposed to be a G or…” She threw her head back and groaned. “Ugh, whatever, I’ll figure it out. But you guys better not hold it against me if I screw up, got it?”

She went to Flowery first, as expected. Sunlamp or no, every cell in Blue’s body filled with a cold anticipation as Susie lifted up the case, all senses honing firmly in on the poor, broken dear within, weariness be damned, hoping to glean something more through the glass barrier, some sort of tell that he was okay—that when it came to their turn, the scent in the air wouldn’t be one of rot. One of Yellow’s roots curled around his, seeking comfort, and he stiffly tried to coil it in return, the closest they could get to threading fingers.

Oblivious to their worry, Susie took her time inspecting Flowery’s broken stem before tipping the watering can. “Kris would probably know more about this,” she mused. “But like, y’know. Don’t wanna go bothering Toriel at five in the freakin’ morning, day after the festival. And it’s not like we’re gonna get another chance later.” A pause, both in her rambling and her watering, watching the soil soak it all up. And then, she sprinkled a little more. “Might as well give you extra, just in case. You can probably feel it already, but something big’s gonna go down today. And if I don’t make it back here tonight, well…I’ll make sure someone else comes by, to keep looking after you guys.”

Nothing about that boded well.

Flowery’s case was closed and locked once the base of his stem was dripping with moisture. Then, Susie approached the two of them. They both braced themselves for the worst.

The rush of chilly morning air was certainly startling, especially after they’d just grown so warm, but while it was stagnant and somewhat dusty in the room, there was no trace of decay to be found. No pollen either, though. Only the distress hormones of a damaged plant lingering from earlier. Still, Blue tried to take heart—sometimes no news was good news, as he’d heard Asgore say before over the phone. A purple claw prodded around uncomfortably between him and Yellow, likely just checking for any obvious damage, and eventually a puff of hot breath from Susie’s nostrils told him she was satisfied by what she found, even though she remained blind to his struggle beneath the soil. Finally, sweet, glorious water rained upon their stems, a little on the nippy side, but Blue wasn’t about to complain.

“Dunno whether to give you two twice the amount or not. Couldn’t hurt though, right?”

Oh, if only he could speak to her, he’d warn of the dangers of root rot and mold, and perhaps impart some reassurance or advice for the road ahead. But, alas, Flowery had put it best: They were just flowers. They could do nothing.

At least, when Susie left an hour later, the sunlamps remained on.

The lights shut off hours later. None of it was a surprise; they had known something awful was coming.

He didn’t even realize he was awake at first, so total was the darkness, so deafening the silence, so cold, so very, very cold, until his legs throbbed angrily enough to make him gasp, everything snapping into place. The air stuck in his throat, tasting of dust and fear. Hands clawing for purchase, he made the mistake of trying to look down at the ground, only for it to be just as black as the rest of his surroundings, which caused his brain and limbs to both misfire, floundering. Eventually he managed to plant an arm down to prop himself up, fighting through the disorientation to gauge his immediate circumstances.

So much for the Roaring granting them a quick, painless petrification like the Darkners. Then again, he never did enjoy the idea of their curtain falling without being granted a chance to take the stage.

The sheer pitch darkness made it difficult to see far, but he didn’t need to; a few feet away, Yellow lay sprawled out on his back, one elbow bent in the air as a hand scrubbed at his face. It was a tiny but potent mercy, seeing him moving, enough to clear out some of the mental haze.

Rolling over so he could sit up, Blue made an attempt to climb to his feet, only to jolt and stagger back onto his rear with a soft, distressed sound when pain shot up through his calves. His hands flew to grip his right thigh just beneath the tutu, a muscle spasm making it twitch under his palms. Dark veins were faintly visible through his tights. The world spun.

Transplant shock.

He tried to summon a cloud…and couldn’t. Not even a light drizzle. His brow furrowed further, trying next to unfurl wings, perhaps take to the air, but no such luck there, either. That, simply put, was not good.

“Oh, bother,” he breathed in dismay. How could he possibly perform in such a condition?

“Blue?” Yellow's voice, alarmed through the groggy drawl.

“Over here,” he answered, and watched Yellow turn and scramble over on all fours, losing his balance twice on the way. Arms wound around him at once, scooping him close to Yellow’s chest.

“Oh my brass buckle, you're safe! You’re safe! When th’ lights all went out—I dunno what I would’a done if…” Yellow babbled, muffled from him shoving his face into the top of Blue's head. Another second, and he pulled back enough to look him over. “You're not hurtin’ anywheres, are ya?”

Slowly, Blue's eyes fell back to the hands still wrapped around his thigh. Then he sighed, and shifted his leg the best he could so Yellow could see. No point in lying to him, but he could at least ease the blow. “I'm afraid my magic is inaccessible at the moment, so I'm about as well as I can be, given the circumstances.”

Understanding dawned in Yellow's expression, followed quickly by horror and despair. “Blue…” he looked back up, desperate. “C-can you still walk?”

“Help me up, and we can find out together.”

Yellow nodded vigorously enough to make himself dizzy, then tried to get to his own two feet. He almost lost his balance again, clearly a little weak in the knees as well. Once he was firmly planted, he reached down with both arms, giving Blue plenty to grab hold of for support.

The process of getting Blue up was far more arduous. First to his knees, battling the cramps with every movement, one leg up, inhale, then the other, and he was standing. Aching, shaking, breathing hard, but standing. He didn't dare try to prop up on his toes, not when his ankles already felt so sore. It took a few, tense minutes before the worst of the feeling subsided, in which he took one tentative step forward, towards Yellow in case he did fall.

Success. The victory was a small one, but in such a dark and dismal world, it was as refreshing as the fine mist from Asgore's spray bottle.

“Whew,” Yellow heaved a breath like he'd been holding it the whole time. “That's sure a relief. I know how much you loved havin’ limbs.”

“It would be a tragic fate, to be granted another chance, only to have it snatched away in the span of a heartbeat. Should the Angel be merciful, I would really prefer to avoid such an outcome.”

Nodding, Yellow glanced around at their surroundings. Or lack thereof. “Don't see none o’ the other's, but…”

“...they're nearby,” Blue finished for him. “We simply have to venture forth, and let love guide us to them.”

An arm looped around Blue's shoulders, then slid down around his back. “Here, lean on me. Don't gotta go hurtin’ yourself worse.”

They took it slow, limping through the darkness, pulled in a direction by what humans would likely call a “gut feeling.” Blue fought to get to grips with the weakness in his legs, but it was an uphill battle, needing to stop every so often when the aches turned to pins-and-needles. Not once did Yellow complain, diligently tightening his grip whenever Blue staggered to a stop, nor did he make any comment about his less-than-graceful appearance, only reaching over to brush away the odd sweaty strand of hair that had escaped and stuck to his forehead from time to time.

If he must endure such hardship, then he was endlessly thankful it was with Yellow at his side.

“Anythin’ I can do fer you?” Yellow asked during one such pause. “I’m not all that knowin’ ‘bout merssages, but I can give it a shot.”

Blue shook his head. “That’s quite alright, dear. You need not fret, it’ll—” a sharp inhale as he shifted his weight from foot to foot. “...subside in a moment.”

His brow knit. “Y’sure? I mean, you’ve always bin’ helpin’ me outta peanuts butters ‘n jams, so—”

Something moved.

Yellow snapped his mouth shut so fast his teeth clicked audibly. They froze, instantly more alert than they’ve ever been, eyes searching, ears perked, trying desperately to locate what the thing was or where it went. The darkness itself seemed to almost enclose upon them, even more oppressive than before, senses screaming THREAT from every angle, forming an instinctive understanding that whatever lurked out there was not one for mercy. Blue tried to flex his toes, testing the waters for if he had no other choice but to fight, and found them wanting as it took several seconds to make his foot relax again; a sliver of relief seeped in when he heard the familiar click of Yellow removing his gun from its holster, allowing himself the briefest of glances to confirm and be comforted by the sight of him scanning the horizon with it. At least they weren’t completely unprepared.

Then Yellow suddenly fired into the darkness, two loud shots echoing (and echoing and echoing), followed by the quiet, rattling hiss of something fading away that felt far too much like laughter, and just like that any relief went up in smoke.

“Reckon’ we shouldn’t stay here,” Yellow murmured low, rolling his wrist from the kickback before resuming his search in case whatever that…thing was had buddies.

“Agreed.” It was around then that Blue realized it wasn’t the gunshots echoing anymore, but another sound instead. “Wait, do you hear that?”

It sounded like…crying. He knew those sobs.

Blue jerked a finger towards the noise. “That way!”

“Yessir!”

They both broke into a run—or, rather, a slightly faster limp, pushing through the stabbing to keep up the pace, Blue’s heart kicking hard in his chest. He had to grab Yellow with both hands for support, fearful of tripping, especially when one ankle almost went sideways and he started all but hopping along, refusing to stop for even a second. Thankfully, they didn't have to strain for too long; emerging from the darkness as though it were a thick fog, a bright green coat came into view.

“That there’s Green ‘n Orange! Heeeeey!” Yellow holstered the gun and snatched the hat off his head, waving it like a flag to get their attention.

As soon as they noticed, Green jogged towards them, the elation in their smile shining so bright it practically lit up the area (Not that that amounted to much; it was darkness all the way through.) Once close enough the four of them collapsed in for a hug, taking precautions not to squish Orange in the middle, tucked safely between all of them in Green’s hat.

“Blu-u-ue!” Orange's voice wavered as they all pulled away, dragging out the vowels. “Y-you're hu-u-urt!”

“I'm quite alright, dear. It's nothing you need to fret over.” He reached out, wiping away the damp tracks on Orange’s cheeks with the back of his pinky finger. “Come now, dry those tears of yours. We don't want to see you dehydrated.”

“But there’s a-all these scary things around, a-a-and we can’t use our magic a-and my punches aren’t hurting them and—”

“Aw, shucks, Orange, there’s no need to cry. Green’s gots theirs fryin’ pan,” he acknowledged with a nod as Green held up their weapon of choice proudly, and pulled his back out in response. “And I’ve gots my trusty gun’s! Wit’ the four of us together, we’ll be juuust fine.” As soon as he uttered the word fine, the gun discharged into the air without input, making him jump.

All four of them went dead silent.

When it became apparent that nothing was going to leap out and tear them limb from petal, Blue whispered, “Yellow,” squeezing the arm still touching him before Yellow had a chance to turn the smoking barrel upon himself next.

Excellent timing, too; Yellow had already started lowering the gun, mortified, but one glance down was enough to bring him back to the situation at hand, enough to where he was able to slip his weapon away and clear his throat without much of a fuss. “You two, uh, wouldn't'a happened't see Aqua or Seth, did'ja?” he asked much quieter.

Both Green and Orange shook their heads sadly.

“Then we must continue forth, and—Ah!” The sound Blue made as his knee buckled was anything but dignified. He almost toppled Yellow with him, but the arm around his waist held him up, its partner flying in to join and help.

“Blue!” Misfire-related shame forgotten, Yellow slowly lowered both of them down to kneel. “Blue, are you alls right? I-I didn’t—-”

“It wasn’t you,” he grit through the throb in his knee, sitting back so he could clutch it properly. Pressure wasn’t helping anymore. Stretching it straight wasn’t possible, nor bending further. It might've been his imagination, but the veins under his tights looked more prominent than before. With what willpower remained from the struggle to control his breathing, he fought to not let his forehead drop to sit against his bent thumbs, lest he reveal that the pain wasn’t purely physical.

He'd almost spent more time on one leg than on two, but that required his other leg to act as a counterbalance, which would prove much more difficult if he couldn't bend or adjust it as necessary—and even if he could, how long would his remaining one last, when it felt just as weak and there was no way to swap and give it a rest? No getting around it; he couldn’t run any longer.

Beside him, Green crouched down to be at eye-level, while Orange’s sobs began anew, albeit much more restrained. Opposite them, Yellow’s trembling hands hovered short over Blue’s legs, desperate to hold or massage or do something to help but too terrified to touch without permission in case he made things worse. His face had taken on a sickly hue.

How embarrassing, to be seen in such a sorry state. A part of Blue wanted to huddle up behind his wings and recuperate in private, not for his own comfort—he would never shy from a camera's sights—but to spare the others from having to witness another of their little bouquet deteriorate. A much, much greater part of him was endlessly grateful he had friends nearby, though, and that reminder was what eventually allowed him to sag against his hands. The burdens didn’t have to be his to bear alone. There was never any need to hide it.

“My deepest apologies,” Blue said once he had the breath for it. “I don’t believe I’ll be able to continue on foot.”

The revelation hit all three of the others at once like a shockwave, sadness only deepening as it truly sank in what that meant for Blue. Yellow in particular had a hard time grappling with it, a flurry of microexpressions flicking across his face, most of them involving the threat of tears, but at the end of it all, right before Blue figured he’d have to spell out a few things out for him, Yellow seemed to come to a decision.

“Nothin' for it, then.” Slowly, reluctantly, Yellow took his arms away, then shuffled along in his crouch until he sat right in front of Blue, arms out behind him, waiting. “Saddle on up.”

Any resignation in Blue’s heart was blown clean through by surprise, head shooting back up. “Oh? You're…going to carry me?”

“Yessiree. What kinda cowboy would I be if I couldn't give a ride?”

Chuckling softly, shaking from a potent mix of pain and sweet emotion, Blue crawled forward until he could grab onto Yellow's shoulders. “I don't believe that's quite how it works, dear.”

Yellow’s head whipped back to try and look at him, his turn to be surprised. “I-it's not?! Well, shoot, there goes that.” Then he smiled. “Don't mean I'm not still gonna carry you, though.”

“And your gun?”

“My gun?”

“How will you fire it with your hands occupied?”

“Oh, uh…hm. Hadn't thought ‘bout that.”

Movement prompted them both to turn, watching Green nudge Orange out from the safety of their hat before holding her up with both hands. Orange herself didn't quite appear to be on the same page, confusion stifling her weeping as she looked between the three of them.

But Blue understood. “Well, seems that won't be an issue after all. May we rely on you, Orange?”

Orange let out one final blubbering sob, then took a big, sniffly breath and started blinking away her watery eyes with a nod. “O-ok. I can…” She rammed her fists together. “I can do it!”

“Bluhuhu, marvelous! What a beautiful show of cooperation! Does it not stir the butterflies within your heart?” A beat “Just please wait until we’re in actual danger to hold it. And don't point it towards any of us.”

It took a couple minutes to get comfortable, figuring out where hands should sit (“Sorry t’ have'ta touch you like this, Blue,” answered with “You are allowed to touch, you know,” which received quite the entertaining expression) and waiting for his knee to accept the new angle, but once they were there Blue held on tight as Yellow stood up with surprisingly little effort.

Even though their bodies were mere projections from the dark, Yellow was still so warm compared to the ambient air surrounding them. It was hard to not melt entirely, but Blue did at least lean forward to rest his head on Yellow’s shoulder, breathing in the mixed scents of corn, sweat, and pollen. “My hero,” he murmured against the skin of Yellow's neck, and laughed again upon feeling him swallow. He was so cute when his ears turned red. Better to dwell on that than his losses.

Once he was done fidgeting around like an anxious schoolboy with a big old crush, Yellow declared, “Let's get a mosey on ‘n round up Aqua ‘n Seth.” Nobody commented on the way his voice peaked and cracked. Nor how bright his face was.

Unlike before, they didn't have to walk for long.

“YOU GUYS!!”

That was all the warning they were given, granting only a second for Yellow to brace his legs before a bright blue torpedo rammed into him. It was a miracle they didn’t all go toppling over. Even more so when Yellow stuck his leg out and found Aqua hanging off of it, clinging like the motivational poster of a kitten in a tree Asgore brought home once, years ago. Blue tightened his grip, an unspoken plea, do not drop me.

Seth followed close behind, jumping right into Green’s open arms, crying, “Oh man, are we ever happy to see you!” before seeming to remember themselves and pulling away to fix their glasses. They cleared their throat, cheeks darkening. “That was Aqua who shouted, for the record.”

“Was nooot!”

Before their squabbling could fully take off, Blue interrupted. “Aqua, Seth, what pleasure it is to see you both hale and whole.”

Aqua looked up, only then realizing that Blue was back there, and her face immediately lit up in excitement, any fear forgotten. “Uuu, are we giving piggyback rides? Me next! Me next!”

“Slow down there, lil’ missy! One at a time!” Yellow teetered, trying to lower Aqua back down without losing what remained of his balance.

Seth sighed. “Aqua…this clearly isn’t for fun.”

“Seth! Seth! Can YOU gimme a piggyback ride?”

“Wh—NO! Do you SEE where we are right now!? This isn’t the time!”

“Aww…” Freeing Yellow’s leg, she spun around. “Green!”

Green’s arms went open immediately. Cheering, Aqua threw herself at their chest, climbing and crawling around their body like a bug until she sat happily atop their shoulders, much to Seth’s chagrin.

Puffing herself up in indignation, Orange, having dropped off of Green's shoulder and into their hands to avoid being knocked off, scampered back up along Green’s arm, their hair, Aqua’s dress, until she finally sat on her head. “Hey, look! I’m the tallest human now!” she boasted, pointing at Yellow, then immediately squealed and held onto the ribbon for dear life as Aqua threw her head back to laugh.

“Well, would’ja look’it that! You are!”

Aqua’s laughter broke out like an infectious disease, first claiming Yellow, stumbling through his words, then Blue, then one by one they were all giggling up a storm, releasing bottled anxieties and tensions that desperately needed to be exorcised, uncaring of what might’ve been lurking nearby. If anything, the spontaneous joy almost seemed to repel the darkness a bit, providing more space to breathe. Everyone together and safe once again.

…Well, not everyone.

The six of them began moving as a unit without any one flower explicitly taking the lead, an unspoken agreement on their direction. Chatter came and went as waves, periods of speculation broken up by stretches of cautious, searching quiet.

There was no guarantee that they’d find him. Nothing but that human “gut feeling.”

And, well, they found him, all right. Not a human body, but a single, golden flower with tape wrapped around its stem.

Not a word was said.

Blue strained his senses, as he knew the others were, trying to catch some kind of signal from Flowery, whether an intentional response to stimuli or just instinctive attempts at communication, physical, hormonal, something, anything that would indicate they weren't just staring at a corpse. But as far as he could tell, there was no such sign. Only the faint, traceable presence that drew them all together in the first place.

But as he continued to stare, something caught his eye, prompting him to squint in an attempt to work out what he was seeing. A peculiar discoloration lower down and…was the stem peeling? Rot setting in, perhaps—the idea made his stomach turn—but he had to know for sure.

“Yellow,” he murmured low, “I know it's not going to be pleasant, but could you get me closer?”

The nod he received was grim. Three steps closer, Yellow crouched, shifting his grip so Blue could lean over his shoulder. No fear of falling forward; even with his legs out of commission his balance remained impeccable. Just a little bit closer and…

There. He could see it clearly now. That wasn't rot.

Oh, the benefits of human sight.

It was Aqua who eventually broke the silence, uncharacteristically quiet. “Is Flowery…gone?”

Blue lifted his head to address the others and properly respond to Aqua. “I wouldn’t say that. Everyone, come and look.” As they all drew in, he patted Yellow's shoulder, signaling him to get even lower for a better angle, even if it meant he had to practically lay flat on the ground. “There,” he pointed. “See the nodes near the base of his stem? And there, those bumps within that will soon become leaves? Against adversity, faced with his eternal end, he continues to cling to life.”

“B-but then why isn't he here?” Orange asked through freshly gathered tears.

“If I had to take an educated guess…” Seth started slowly, crouching down on all fours to get up close and personal like Blue, despite previous apprehension. “He's resting.”

“Resting?” Aqua echoed.

Blue settled back onto Yellow, a sign it was alright to get back up. “To put it another way, the reason we can't communicate with him is because he's entered dormancy.”

“Tryin'a regrow's got him all tuckered out, then.” Yellow heaved a great big sigh as he climbed back to his feet, careful not to jostle Blue too much on the way. “Hoo-wee. Ain't that a relief. ‘prolly for the best, too. Not gonna do anyone any good, wastin’ energy in a place like this.”

For the first time since they'd reunited, Green whipped out a sign from…somewhere. Rest sounds nice.

“Now that you mention it—” A yawn cut Orange off, and she tried to mumble through the tail end of it. “I’m tired…”

The notion rippled through them all as if spoken into existence, shoulders slouching and heads beginning to droop.

“...so is that the plan, then?” Seth frowned. “Just…sitting around and resting?”

Yellow almost shrugged, remembered Blue, and settled for a nod instead. “Don't seem like there's all that much more we can do, ‘m afraid. Can't use magic or nothin’ to help out.”

“It would be best to conserve our energy, for a time when the sun rises again,” Blue agreed.

None of them properly put it to voice, but it was clear everyone knew what was happening; in the time they’d spent standing around over Flowery, so much of their strength had faded. A collective, silent acknowledgement that the environment was inhospitable to their fragile floral bodies.

Blue just hoped it wasn't too late. If one entered dormancy without the conserved energy or external means to wake up…

Well, depending on how long the darkness lingered, it might not make any difference.

Right there, as close as they were willing to risk approaching Flowery in his sleep, all six of them settled down in something of an awkward half-circle, half-pile, bunched up together. It was much easier to swallow the first time around, when it was clear they'd done their best and could return to their little glass containers knowing that someone had borne witness to their hearts, acknowledged their existence. Now? Now it caught in their throats, another chance at having a human body, a higher consciousness, and for what? A vast expanse of darkness and not even the chance to make it better. They could still do nothing. Might as well stay a flower, for all the difference it made.

Well…no, Blue thought, there was still one important difference; he was allowed to see Yellow again through eyes instead of juggling other senses, could watch the way his smile turned from forced cheer as he stared off into the middle distance, to genuine fondness when he noticed Blue was looking up from where his head sat pillowed in Yellow’s lap. If he tilted his head, he could see Green resting their back against Yellow's other side, arm up so Orange could sit on their fist and play lookout. He could see beyond them both Aqua and Seth, Aqua draped over one of Green's outstretched legs, chin on the tip of their boot, listening to Seth read from the book they always held close while huddled up between Green's calves. His family, all linked through touch. Hard to be too upset about that, honestly.

All in all, it was bittersweet. The actual physical act felt terribly different from before, more than just his illusory human body slipping away this time, minute by minute. Unfathomable exhaustion. His gaze turned to Flowery again, eyes tracing the pale outline of the tape. Was this what had been like for him, laying on the floor among the clotted soil and broken glass? What a dreadfully scary experience.

But at least he wasn't alone.

His blinks kept growing longer.

“You dozin’ off?”

“Mm…seems so. And here I'd so hoped we'd go together…” Yellow’s expression twisted into one of abject anguish, and no force in the darkness could’ve ever stopped Blue from reaching up to cup his face, no matter how heavy his arms felt. “Oh, Yellow, my dearest, don’t look so forlorn. With love our hearts, we’ll meet again by tomorrow’s first light.”

“I know…jus’, hate that it’s gotta be this way. Never went into hye-ber-nation before. Kinda feels like we’re…” His throat worked hard to swallow the word instead of saying it out loud. “ ‘s far as I know, I didn't do nothin’ this time. And if I didn't do nothin’ ‘t deserve it, then none ‘a them deserve a punishment like this neither. ‘speshully not you.”

“Don't think of this as a punishment. Think of it as…an intermission, before we next take the stage.”

Yellow shrugged. “Hard not to.”

“Well…would a punishment allow for this?”

Guided down by weakened hands, their lips met, a clumsy, awkward, perfect union. Finished with their final act, his hands then fell, though Yellow caught one of them and held it close. When Blue pulled back and saw him still frowning, he leaned for another. Again, and again, and again, until he felt Yellow’s smile beginning to curl, and then he kissed him yet again until craning his neck up grew too difficult, and his head sank back onto the comfort of Yellow’s thigh, wherein Yellow chased for one last press.

“Get some rest. I'll catch up, promise. Gotta follow through on one last justice first,” Yellow murmured against his lips. His throat bobbed through another swallow, voice growing watery. “Jus’...wherever we end up, could—could’ja…wait for me? Please?”

“Of course I will, my love.” He had more to say. So much more. But he was so very tired.

“Love ya too, Blue,” Yellow whispered, blinking hard to keep the tears from escaping. Had he the strength, Blue would’ve reached up to wipe them away. “Sleep tight.”

Yellow kept his hand running along Blue's hair until there was nothing left, gazing down at the blue flower sprouting close to his thigh. That same hand reached down to stroke a finger along the underside of a delicate, shriveling petal. No idea if Blue felt that or not. He hoped he did.

Letting him go hurt worse than any injury he’d ever felt in his life, but, well, someone had to keep an eye on everyone and protect them if things broke worse. With Flowery down for the count and no one else around, as the flower closest to gold, that job fell to him.

The rest of them sat like that a long, long while. Yellow held his face in his hands, gun sitting in his lap to fill some of the empty, cold space left behind. It didn’t really feel fair, Blue fading so soon. Not that he blamed him, Angel no. But the more he thought about it, the more he supposed it made sense; if Blue stuck around much longer, the transplant shock would get him before the darkness did. The idea left him feeling sick to his roots.

Green went next, their weight vanishing from his side.

He didn't dare let himself lie down, no matter how thick his exhaustion, not until he was the last one left, fingers curled loose around Blue's stem.

Vibrations. It was all he was aware of, all he could be aware of, everything in his being working towards acknowledging the minute tremors, and the messages he could glean from them.

“Come on, little one.”

Then, chemical stimulus came next. He could feel more than just vibrations now, though processing them came much, much slower, a thick syrup spreading through and waking up his…stem? Yes, he had a stem. That felt correct.

“Your roots are looking much better today. May I see some leaves next?”

Information flooded in. The image coming to him was little more than fuzz at first, a mesh of dark grey with the vaguest hints of movement causing bulges and waves. Gradually it grew clearer, brighter, colours filtering in, blue, overwhelmingly blue, then yellows, greens, browns, sometimes pink but not for long, and shapes came next, agonizingly slow, the blur pulling away and sharpening until…

He knew where he was. And he knew the big, white figure lowering to a crouch at his side.

“There you are,” Asgore breathed. “You gave me quite a scare, but you bounced back very well.” The back of a claw nudged at him here and there, and two big paw pads closed over his stem with the softest of squeezes. “Everything looks healthy. Nobody would guess you were ever in shock, little one. How wonderful!”

Goodness, it had been some time since he'd last experienced the process of blooming. Back then he was barely aware of his own existence, guided by instinct and sensory input alone, so re-enacting the first day with experience under his belt was fascinating. Soon, the leaves at his stem would fall off, their jobs complete, leaving him pristine. Before it had been a sign of his inevitable end, that his body no longer needed to produce energy, as it would all be burned away over the next twenty-four hours to keep his petals vibrant; now there was no need to fear. Instead he could truly appreciate how incredible his roots felt, spreading thick and free through fresh soil; warm, blue light encouraging his petals to continue taking in energy, despite the lack of chlorophyll; droplets from Asgore’s mist bottle rolling down his stem.

It wasn't until a breeze ruffled his petals that the obvious clicked, that all of their glass cases were open, as was the door at the back of the room. So much of his focus was on reorienting himself, he'd completely bypassed most external stimuli. But now that he was open and alert, he could more thoroughly assess his surroundings.

Three things became immediately apparent all at once, a deluge of information trying to slam its way into his faculties such that untangling them felt like he was mentally teasing roots apart.

The first thing he managed to parse was Flowery. No tape to be found. Once acknowledged, blocking him out was practically impossible with the way he fired off all sorts of signals all over the place, a fireworks display for flowers, as he had sometimes been wont to do when at the peak of his health in the hopes that Asgore would notice.

If he'd been capable of it, Blue would've laughed out loud. What a lovable show-off.

My, don't we have a lot of energy today? Fufu. It’s lovely to see you again, Flowery.

Instantly, the signals changed to something much more welcoming. Morning, Blue, long time no see! Just trying to help the others wake up. Wanna join in? I'm sure Yellow'd really enjoy it.

Yellow.

Yellow was the second thing Blue processed, every single sense snapping towards him, realizing that despite again being separated out into their own individual pots, he was so, so much closer than before. Side-by-side now, in fact. So near, he could easily see Yellow's bud in the beginning stages of opening, coloured tips poking out from the green sepals. One of the single most beautiful sights he'd ever witnessed, both as a flower and a human.

As if he was actually capable of recognizing Blue’s awe, Asgore returned back at his side. “I hope you do not mind. I made some adjustments to our little set-up. It is not…quite as pretty as a gradient. But perhaps you all will find this arrangement preferable?"

More than ever, Blue wished he had arms so he could leap up and hug Asgore.

Before he did anything else, he made sure to process the third and final thing, which actually turned out to be many weaker things all bundled together into one collective packet—the other flowers, each in various stages of blooming. Green was the closest of them all to waking up, petals still a little propped up, followed by Seth, who resembled a cup of sorts, then Aqua, fighting to push out, and Orange, only just slightly more visible than Yellow. All of them were stirring, all of them alive.

Blue could barely contain the rush of sheer joy. So, he let it out.

Yellow! Yellow, love, do wake up quickly! You're going to miss the others!

What he received in return was less of a coherent answer and more a jumble of nonsense pointing generally in the direction of complete and utter bewilderment. Delight rippled its way up Blue's stem. Very well, it had been quite the bizarre experience. He paused for the time being to avoid overwhelming Yellow with information, especially now that Flowery had resumed his little wake-up call to everyone.

The process took a few hours, and wasn’t that a strange thing to learn? He’d been one of the first flowers among the bouquet to bloom back then, too, and yet it simply never occurred to him how long it actually took. That he could continue to learn, even with the scope of his consciousness narrowed again to only as much as a flower could process, comforted him in a way he didn’t know he needed. As such, he didn’t mind the wait at all.

One by one, the flowers opened. Reactions ranged from wildly overjoyed to a calmer relief, turning Flowery’s performance into a spectacle beyond comparison, a whirlwind of overlapping hormones and fragrances and signals, unreadable chaos to any plant outside of their septet. It was a good thing Asgore wasn’t allergic to them. His poor sinuses never would’ve recovered.

Every hour, Blue would try again, a gentle, hormonal nudge to further rouse Yellow as his petals gradually unfurled. In a rather fitting turn of events, there was an old western playing softly on the TV when Yellow finally responded. He'd never been so grateful to feel Yellow answer him, even if said answer was a groggy, Whuzzuh…?

Good morning, Yellow dear. Or rather, good evening.

Blue…?

Any burgeoning recognition was cut short as Asgore, returning from some business downstairs, turned and noticed with a pleasantly surprised chuckle. “Oho! You took a long time! I hope you are feeling well.” Just as he’d done for each and every one of them, Asgore took the time to check Yellow over. “Hm. Nothing appears to be wrong. I suppose I will look again later, to be safe.” Then, he stood up and stepped back, sweeping his gaze across everyone. “All blooming on the same day again…it is almost enough to make an old monster cry.”

The signals changed as Asgore turned away, shame seeping stronger through the sleepy mix. Oh no, am I late…?!

Actually, you’re right on time. Flowery’s amusement was palpable, but not as much as his pride. The others told me you burned a whole lot of energy keeping them all safe. Not half bad, partner.

Aw, shucks. Bashful, and completely oblivious to who exactly he just reacted to. Perhaps it would click in a couple hours, once he was more awake.

But in the meantime, Blue knew an opportunity when he saw one. Though they could no longer reach, he hoped the longing to stroke those petals conveyed the same feeling as the physical touch, returning the last bit of comfort he’d received before dropping away into dormancy. You’re as radiant as the day we met.

His efforts, of course, were almost immediately drowned out by Aqua cheering from her new spot on the counter directly across. I’m older now! Yaaay!

Beside her came a single, exasperated note from Seth. That’s not how it works.

But Yellow paid them and their antics no mind, all his focus in one direction. Blue! Relief, and something much stronger. His signals were still a little jumbled, it seemed. Blue, you’re…y’look so… The sheer wave of emotion, as messy as it was, said more than any vocal language ever could.

Officially dashing away any suspicions of possessing flower-telepathy powers, Asgore returned with a glass case in hand. “This calls for a celebration! But, it will have to wait until tomorrow. Unfortunately, it is getting very late. I hope you all enjoyed the fresh air today.” The first one clicked into place over Flowery, one final farewell burst before he was safely sealed away.

A flare of panic from Yellow as Asgore grabbed his next. W-wait—

But Blue soothed him. Calm yourself, dear.

It worked, though only somewhat, tapering down into a more controlled urgency. You’ve gotta know first! Joining the urgency was a new kind of warmth, a love strong enough to bowl Blue over, had his stem not been so strong. Jus’ how durned happy I am t’ see you again!

Yellow!

I love—

The glass cases went back on, the scene of their reunion cut just a little bit shorter than he would’ve preferred, but that was fine.

Even if Asgore hadn’t said as much, Blue knew he’d be able to speak to Yellow again tomorrow, and the next day, and, with hope in his heart, every day after that, a life forever for flowers.