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Frisk sat hiding in one of the corners of Snowdin stroking Flowey’s velvety soft petals. The snow was stinging cold as the slowly melting water under them started to seep through their shorts. Though it was cold, the numbness was a welcome distraction.
Flowly scowled at the physical contact, but tried his best to brush it aside knowing just how stressed Frisk was.
Loud, angry, bitter monsters walked past their hiding place none the wiser to their presence shivering in the allyway. The crude smells of alcohol, burning, and the musty smell of dust swirled together into a perfume that made Frisk’s stomach churn on top of an already dire situation.
It felt like so long ago that they had been home, in they’re real home, surrounded by loved ones and the promise of a bright future. But for whatever reason they had found themselves in what must be a form of hell.
The once peaceful monsters the Frisk knew were gone replaced with violent, blood thirsty monsters in the way humans used the word.
They acted tough, but underneath it all was a layer of depression even deeper than the ones carried by the ones from Frisk’s world. Like the extra effort wasted on bravado, and anger had exhausted them far more than they’re bleak imprisonment underneath a suicide mountain.
This made it hurt all the more knowing what could have been.
Frisk shivered hard feeling their heart tighten in their chest, emotionally powerless to stop the onslaught of anxiety and depression. For all they knew they had to accept that this could be they’re new reality, their home lost to them for all time.
This made they’re longing for Toriel’s loving embrace, and Sans’s bad jokes, and Papyrus’s motivating self-confidence, for everyone so much more intense.
This Toriel was miserable and desperate, not even able to take joy in the little things.
This Sans was a wreck, he was so caring, but so much more vulnerable to how his brother and others hurt him because of a perceived weakness.
This Papyrus was arrogant vain, and cruel, blinded by what he was told being strong really was.
Undyne when Frisk managed to barely get away with heavy injured was lost to a thirst for power, no one able to escape being crushed under her armored boots.
Alphys locked up in her lab, they had heard she was a mad scientist, but couldn’t help but feel like it was an act to conceal her quickly slipping grasp on a will to live.
Mettaton, as cold and empty as the entertainment he made to feed his complete lack of self esteem unable to make the general public who tolerated him like him.
And Asgore.
Frisk shuddered hard, and sniffed breathing in cold air through their mouth feeling like the extra gasp of air reached in and raked its claws up their lungs.
They didn’t dare face the king of the mountain. They clutched the boot Flowey had been hastily shoved in tighter remembering the feeling of looking over the child sized coffins in the royal palace.
They had never seen this Asgore, but his presence was like an oppressive weight over the whole Underground as opposed to a depressing shroud over just his castle. Ruthless, and with black hole in place of a heart they felt real fear lance itself into their determined spirit.
They couldn’t avoid a real fight to the death with Asgore without Toriel’s intervention, they dreaded having to stare down a new image of their loving father figure leaving the last old one to stay alive only in Frisk’s memories.
This whole place was poisonous like the place Frisk had run away from so long ago.
Flowey turned away from the street to look up at Frisk now silently weeping on top of him. With a frown he raised a leaf to their face offering some motion of comfort despite not being able to really empathize anymore.
“It’s not your fault Frisk.”
Frisk raked in a deep breath, and shook now openly sobbing leaning over Flowey who had reached up and stroked Frisk’s head with one leaf, and held the other side with his other.
“It’s ok that you don’t want to charge forward to his trident. I don’t feel fear, but I know that pushing yourself to the edge wont make this broken world right overnight.”
“But, I ran back all the way back to Snowd-“ Frisk tried to sign, but Flowey wiggled in anger.
“Frisk you’re not super human! Its fine that you felt the need to retreat to a familiar place. Even if that place isn’t the same as the one you know.” Flowey held Frisk’s face in his leaves and wiped tears as Frisk silently leaned into them and allowed themselves to cry.
“hey what did you do to the kid weed!”
They jumped startled, and looked up at Sans who was standing over them holding a doggy bag of food.
“I didn’t do anything trashbag!” Flowey bared his fangs at him trying to make himself look bigger.
Frisk tapped the boot, and stood up wiping their cheeks. “Sans, he wasn’t doing anything to me.”
Even though Sans couldn’t physically frown his eyes clearly showed his frown as he walked forward to pat Frisk’s head comfortingly.
“c’mon sweetheart, lets crash at my place.” Sans led Frisk deeper towards the alley, and away from the cold of the snow, and the atmosphere radiated by the monsters.
Frisk was grateful that Sans didn’t bring up them retreating from the Judgement Hall, though it felt like he was relieved they did.
They walked into a dark corridor, and wound up at Sans’s secret lab. A cot had been set up behind a curtain, along with several blankets.
“you can chill here for as long as you want kiddo, i’ll be back soon.” Sans handed them the food leaving them to scarf down the meal on the cot, and curl up for a nap under Flowey’s watchful eye.