Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

If you're reading this, I am dead.

It matched what the flower had said-- all of it. How a human had fallen and had started slaughtering everything and everyone without discretion or remorse. How Undyne died trying to face them-- or it, or whatever it was. How everyone who hadn't evacuated had been killed.

Asgore struggled to keep his hands from trembling. Dead. How badly he had wanted to tear that word away from his heart and cast it out with the weeds. Yet here it was, plain as day, in Alphys's own messy handwriting.

I wanted to call. I was going to explain everything, she wrote. Several words had been scribbled out; others had been crammed into the margins. But I couldn't. I had every chance to stop them after they left the Ruins. Or when they evacuated Snowdin. I could have even called you then. But I just watched. Powerless. Stupid. I could have called when Torie

A whole line had been erased, seemingly written again, and then hastily crossed out. Asgore put the note down slowly without shifting his gaze. Alphys shifted on her heels in front of him. He sat in his throne room rather than this 'true lab' and she was rambling about her robot- He's still out there, she scribbled in the margins, he's going to die trying to stop them I can't do anything about it- and how she'd be willing to take the position of royal scientist if he would be so kind.

And then, before his eyes, she faded to dust.

His head pulsed when he snapped out of the fantasy. It had felt like so long ago she had called him on the phone (and 'someone' had called but hung up instantly 3 times before) asking to show him an invention that would 'make a lot of people happy'.

And now, a noose hanging from the rafters of this place she called her 'true lab' with nothing else in sight. He would have spread her dust over something she loved if the whole lab hadn't been covered in it. Was it from disuse, or...?

He closed his eyes and tried to place events into their proper order. Everything felt so... unreal. It had happened so fast. 

"They're not like Ch- they're not like the other humans!" the flower had cried, back when it found him. Asgore had tried to calm it down, but it had been inconsolable. "They're going to kill us! They'll kill you! Everything they died for will be for nothing!"

But the only noise he and the flower had heard was the distant, phantasmal chirping of birds-- a call from the surface that both of them had left behind in their own right long ago. All the other flowers danced in a faint breeze.

"Th-they should be here!" the flower had said. Asgore had cast a worried look. "I- I mean it! They've got the knife a-and the locket and it-- it's not them, it really isn't though--"

"There, there."

The flower had tensed as stiff as if about to snap in half when Asgore embraced it. It had stopped trembling as if someone had flipped a switch. "It will all be alright."

They had waited. They had waited longer. They heard a distant din of noise in the halls, and then nothing. Asgore turned to keep watering his flowers. The strange flower (he had never met one that could talk before) bit his cloak. "They're going to kill you! They're gonna... they're..."

But nobody came.

Asgore had lived through his share of tragedy. Now, back in the present, he wasn't sure if he should feel guilty for how numb he felt as he skmmed over the rest of Alphys's letter. He folded it carefully and placed it in a pocket.

His feelings didn't matter. There was only their feelings, the few hundred that remained of monsterkind, small enough to fill a room in a lab.

They're... well, surviving, with the few cots and provisions I have down here. They're in the other room, waiting for me to come back. They don't know what I've done. I can't stand to think of how disappointed they'll be in me. How disappointed you'll be in me. I don't deserve it, but when this is all over, I hope I can see her again.

Everyone froze when Asgore entered. They had been all huddled together, not so much surviving down here as simply waiting to see what would happen next in the short time they still had. Dozens of familiar faces poked out of the crowd from all across the Underground, but he still couldn't help but scan for Toriel. He stopped himself before he caught himself looking for Asriel, too.

His eyes settled on a small monster child. Their jaw was clenched tight to prevent their teeth from chattering. Asgore noticed a part of their shirt was missing-- and a cloth with similar texture was wrapped as a makeshift bandage around another child’s wound.

Asgore took off his cape and bent down to one knee. Several children reeled back as if about to be struck. Others started to cry. The monster kid just sat and watched, lifeless, as Asgore draped the cape around their shoulders like a blanket.

Their nonchalance in the face of danger reminded him of the skeleton. 

"there's a little something I think you should've seen a while ago," he had said. Asgore had found him in a great hallway leading to his throne room, breathing heavily, struggling to stand. Beads of sweat rolled down his face. It had been after the flower and he had waited for so long for a threat that never appeared.

"don't worry about the human. they're gone. it's over," the skeleton had said. "i saw to it."  

Snapping Asgore out of his thoughts, a bear-like monster finally stepped forward. "King Asgore... you're... alive?"

He cleared his throat. "Um... yes. I am. Since I am here," he said.

Nobody dared speak a word, as if this was an elaborate trick. Then the crowd erupted in whoops and cheers as the first ray of hope had shined down on them in the form of their partially-absent king.

"I knew that Dr. Alphys would do it!" a rabbit monster exclaimed. "Everyone! We're saved!"

"I-it's over?" a girl asked.

"We're gonna be ok! Asgore's here with the SOULs!" another said.  

"Yeah! Three cheers for Alphys!" "I'm so glad you're okay, Asgore!" "We've got tah thank the doctah for all she's done!"

Asgore couldn't look any of them in the eye. His heart weighed almost as heavy as when he had to announce the funeral for his children. Alphys, Undyne, all the others-- they were like his children, in a sense. Undyne had taken Asgore to school when everyone brought their parents to talk about their careers and made him introduce himself as The Guy She's Gonna Beat Up. Alphys had been such a polite young girl, offering to watch the two of them spar even if her meeting with Asgore was an hour afterward, insisting she really liked it for some reason.

You're going to need them, Alphys wrote. The human SOULs. It's the only way to beat this human. I've seen them fight. The hatred in their heart is great enough to kill even you. Please... don't wind up like the others because I didn't warn you.

Before he read her note, before he left his throne room, the flower snapped at him. "Hang on, are you just going to leave the human SOULs behind?" the flower had demanded. His voice had returned to a steady tone, but he still tripped over words as Asgore started to leave. "You're not gonna stand a chance without them! None of us do!"

"I've negotiated with unpleasant humans before," Asgore had said. "Should this all be true, I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding."

"Misunderstanding? Do you have brain damage?" the flower spat. "Murder isn't a misunderstanding! Do you think the war was a misunderstanding? Do you think what happened to your children was a misunderstanding? Don't just let it be for nothing!"

The flower gasped as if realizing what he had said. When Asgore turned around to face him, hurt, he had already vanished.

"King? You alright?" someone said.

"She's gone." The words slipped out of him. He had spent so long holding everything in to the point of breaking, he was surprised he didn't deflate like a balloon as he spoke. "Doctor Alphys is no longer with us. I'm afraid I arrived too late."

Panic sank its claws into the crowd. Asgore heard questions shouted, demands posed-- it felt like the only one silent was the young monster in the cape. They caught Asgore's eye and looked away uncomfortably.

Asgore knew that face. Chara's "I'm fine" face, the smile they tried to hold when Asgore was accidentally poisoned with buttercups. The smile they defaulted to even as their tears crumbled into sobs.

What is it you know? Asgore wondered about the monster child. But he simply cleared his throat. The sound silenced the surviving monsters at once.

"Out of respect for the late doctor, I will not spare the details at the time."

They'll know I was a coward, Alphys wrote. I couldn't even show them... what I really did. I let them all go, even if its sentencing them to their deaths too. It should be me instead.

"This is no place for us to hide. Let us congregate at the royal palace. We will be safe there," he said.

"You just don't want to tell us that the human killed her!" a monster shouted.

"Tell us what happened to Doctor Alphys!"

"Was it the human?!"

"Are they down here right now? What are we supposed to do?"

"I can assure you that there is no human present--" But the booing of the crowd enveloped his voice. The roar of voices molded into one sick being that filled the room like smoke. Anger. Confusion. Hopelessness.

"We lost our homes, we lost our families, and now you can't tell us what's going on?!" a shopkeeper said.

"If we leave here, that human's going to pick us off like flies!"

"Where even were you when--"

"SHUT UP!" a smaller voice shouted. Asgore spun around. The flower had emerged from a crack in the floor, the noose dangling from his mouth. He spat it on the ground before Asgore's feet. "THIS is what happened to your oh-so-special Doctor Failure! No wonder she did it with you ungrateful lot of losers weighing her down! Golly, it's not like she saved your worthless lives or anything!"

The air ran thick with their silence. Asgore's ears were ringing. The flower was shaking again, either from rage or from fear still, he had no idea.

"Do you dolts ever use your brains? That thing between your ears? If the human got down here to kill Alphys, all of you would be plastered over these walls like a janitor's nightmare by now! Now the less time we waste turning on each other, the less time they have to find us and slaughter all of you jerks! Okay?!"

That quieted them. The monsters looked at one another, as if thinking that they had once been a race famous for their unity.  

The first person to move was the child with Asgore's cape. They took a small step forward. The sound of their heel on the tile resonated in the empty lab. "Yo, if... if Undyne couldn't take them out, we're done. There's nothin' else we can do."

"Not quite," the flower said. He gave a sly wink. (Asgore was sure Asriel had picked that up from Chara, or had that been the other way around? Oh, the memories.) "I have a plan."

---

The Underground seemed to groan under the people's collective footsteps, as if it just had a taste of nearly being empty for the first time in ages.

Asgore couldn't help but study Hotland as they marched through it. The Snowdin survivors seemed most affected by the heat, used to the opposite type of climate. He offered them encouraging smiles whenever they could, and some of them even smiled back. But without the SOULs, that’s all he could do. The little flower initially had curled around Asgore's shoulders, but at Asgore's request, it took up the back of the crowd and urged on anyone who fell behind.

MTT Resort stood abandoned for the first time since it had been opened. A single light bulb spat out its sparks, flickering once, then dying again like the rest of them. Alphys's lab may have been the last place to have power-- it had run on a multitude of homemade generators and backup generators; it was vitally important that the human SOULs stay protected.  

The elevators in the CORE had gone out as well. Without the people of Snowdin working diligently to cool it, the CORE had shut itself down to prevent from overheating.

He wondered when he would have noticed the Underground had gone dark. In New Home, the only light he needed shone from the distant sun. This was how distant he was from the regular monsters, he thought. 

(Sometimes he talked to them, the SOULs. He wouldn't bring them out, but he felt as if they could see him there, standing before the Barrier. He spent days going about the same routine as he had before they died and she left. And when the nagging feeling of his SOUL growing heavier weighed him too much and when his sins dragged their nails down his back, he sat before the barrier and laid his SOUL out for them to see.)

"Psst."

The flower had popped out of the ground near Asgore's feet again. It (he?) seemed to untangle its roots from the grate of the CORE and wound its vines like a snake up Asgore's arm. He let it happen, mesmerized. "Hey. You must wanna hear about my plan, right?"

"I cannot say I am not curious," Asgore said.

"It's simple. You're not gonna use those SOULs, are  you? Everyone talks about them." He gestured at all the monsters that had followed them. They had stopped for a short break on the walk. Some of the monsters were facing exhaustion, not having slept since the nightmare all started. Others had never walked so far in such heat. "They all want the end of humanity. You know that."

"... Yes. Of course," he said meekly.

A few of those injured in the evacuation and a few of the weaker monsters were close to... 'falling down' already from the weight on their SOULs. Monsters were beings of emotion, and right now, beings of despair. The least Asgore could do for them was get the elevators working so they could get to safety in a hurry without needing to walk.

The most he could do was break the barrier and let the fresh air fill their lungs.

"You can't stand the idea of those six humans giving their lives for nothing, though, right?" he urged. "Oh... nevermind. You wouldn't understand..."

"Wait," Asgore said, and the flower stifled a smile. "I... I do not understand, but... I do not want their deaths to have been for naught."

"Murder isn't a misunderstanding! Do you think the war was a misunderstanding?” he heard, in his mind. “Do you think what happened to your children was a misunderstanding? Don't just let it be for nothing!"

"It's simple." He leaned in to Asgore's ear, whispered: "Give the SOULs to someone who can use them."

"Wh... what?" He said. Asgore cast a glance at all the monsters camped around the elevator door, as if hoping in vain it would open. He looked back at the flower, who looked gravely serious.

"Golly, I'm... I'm sorry for speaking so directly to you again," the flower said. "I just... well. I've also lost a lot in this mess. My mother..."

"That... that is horrible. I am so sorry," he said.

"It doesn't have to be that way, though!" the flower said, smiling. "She doesn't have to die for nothing! I may not be much, but... if I could use a human SOUL, I could make it all right. I could try my hardest to make up for all the hurting that humans have made us feel!"

His voice wavered. "I... I do not know. It does not feel right."

"I understand," the flower said. His disposition had shifted almost completely from when he first appeared to Asgore in tears. He smiled now, his petals fluttering. "I get too scared to take action, too. That's... well, that's how I lost my mom. I watched the human cut her up."

"I cannot imagine what that pain is like."

"I haven't told anyone else this..." he said. "Everyone else has lost so much, they're only focused on themselves. But you, you're so caring... you've been here for me since the start!"

Asgore was about to speak, but the flower's next words hit him like a poisoned dart: "Even though you lost your own kids to 'sickness'... life just isn't fair sometimes. We were just born at a disadvantage, you know," he said. "My mother always said there should be some way to make it right."

(through kindness and understanding, flowey thought. but who cared? he was technically kind of using kindness here.)

"I... I must think it over," Asgore said. "I have always felt as if this was my burden to bear--"

"Okay! Don't wait up for me, I've gotta go look for her dust," he said. "She always wanted it spread over other golden flowers. They're so special... I wonder where they come from?"

Asgore reached out and touched the flower gently. His smile twitched, but before he could say anything, Asgore took him into another embrace. Gentle- he couldn't crush Flowey- but firm enough that he couldn't wriggle out. The old man smelled like cut grass. A vision flashed before Flowey's mind- awakening, alone, after death- and he tried to dismiss it. The seeds of it just stayed stuck all over the edges his consciousness.

"I am sorry you have suffered through so much," Asgore said. "We will make sure your mother is not forgotten, I promise you. Thank you for coming to talk to me about it."

"H-hey," he said weakly. "It's... you know... it's..."

"You do not have to say anything more. It is okay," Asgore said. When he pulled back, the flower looked uncertain. Asgore gave a reassuring smile. "You have tried to smile for long enough. Smiling to cover your pain will leave you with nothing inside. Thank you for telling me the truth."

"Yeah... the truth," he said. He couldn't meet Asgore's eyes. "Thanks, King--"

"You may just call me Asgore." He gave a gentle laugh. "May I ask your name in return?"

He hesitated. He moved to speak. He stopped, looking away, smiling weakly. "... Flowey."

"It is nice to meet you, Flowey," he said. "You remind me of an especially tall and proud flower from my garden. Despite everything that has happened, it makes me happy to be able to speak to a beautiful flower such as that."

"I've gotta get going," he said in a haste. "Th-think over what I said, okay?"

"I shall," he said, retaining his calm.

He disappeared under the ground. Asgore stood, about to announce that they would continue their walk to the palace.

A ding halted his words. All heads turned to see that the lights of the elevator had turned on. Asgore watched his startled reflection in the sleek metal doors vanish as they opened, welcoming them as needed.

Chapter Text

In the judgement hall, time was a suggestion.

Days, weeks, they all blended together to Sans. He would lapse in and out of sleep while standing in place. He always woke up with a jump after hearing his voice, Papyrus's voice-- sometimes he even looked around to find him before it hit him all over again.

He would look around for the human, too, cursing himself for falling asleep or passing unconscious from exhaustion or whichever. If he moved to find the human in case the human had just passed him, he ran the risk of a human actually sneaking past once he left; if he didn't move, he ran the risk of the human doing much worse without being stopped. In the end, he settled on not moving; the fact he was alive to awaken at all was indication that the human was still dead.

(like papyrus. like you deserved, he thinks, his heart long replaced with vindictiveness and hate.)  

It hadn't been beyond the human to try anything to win, from feigning mercy to taunting about Papyrus to measures even further than Sans could remember. When the hall was silent, Sans could still hear a faint giggle and uneven footsteps prancing around puzzles in the snow; when he dimmed his eyes, he had visions of the human stuffing their pockets with cinnamon bunnies, showing Papyrus a wobbly baby tooth ("SANS????" "yeah?" "WHEN WILL YOUR BABY LEGS FALL OUT AND YOUR ADULT LEGS GROW IN?") to giving an over-the-top-wink--

to killing

E V E R Y O N E

Sans took a shaky breath. Well. He wouldn't have been surprised if, in any other world that might be out there, the other Sans wouldn't have believed a second of it. That Sans might have called himself anxious. Paranoid. Too scared or too lazy to move on.

He wished he could have proved himself right.

He didn't move as he heard Asgore return and everyone filling the royal palace. He didn't move as he heard all voices except for Alphys's. He didn't move as some people peeked around at him but went back into hiding.

The human was gone. It was over. Wasn't it?

Then why was he still here?

"Howdy, pal!"

Sans nearly collapsed into a pile of bones, his teeth arranging into a smile on top. Fortunately, he'd held himself together for god-knows-how-long and wasn't about to collapse from... a talking flower?

(clearly not an echo flower, since it didn't say "sans you lazy piece of shit"; little did he know the flower barely restrained himself every second of every minute.)

"Golly, you look like you've seen better days!" the flower said. He smiled as if barely sure how wide normal smiles were-- as if he might, without thinking, smile so wide it tore the skin (?) of his face. "If you're the new royal guard around here, I'm not sure if you should arrest yourself for loitering or littering!"

Sans chuckled, not missing a beat. "it stinks, doesn't it?"

"What?" the flower asked. "Your hygiene?"

"losing the only member of your fan club."

Yet the flower didn't drop his smile, either. Sans could spot a fellow expert at faking it from a mile away.

"Fan club? I can't say I'm that popular!" he said. "What would it even be called... the..."

flowey fan club

The slightest waver in the flower's grin as it dawned on him. Sans let another chuckle slip. Bingo. (he noticed the falter in the smile for the split second it had been present, of course; if he couldn't recognize actions in others that fast, he would be dead already.)

"Oh, no! Could you ever forgive the manners of little old me?" Flowey said. "If I had recognized the brother of the Great Papyrus sooner, I would have been--"

"exactly the same," Sans said. He loved letting a good joke play out (like his life, for example). This wasn't a good joke. "didn't your mother ever tell you that your ears turn red when you lie, bucko?"

"Gosh! I'll go sweep her up and ask her!" Flowey said in the same chipper tone of voice.

"when you do, come let me know," Sans said, in a tone of voice that strongly suggested Please Don't Come Let Me Know.

"I sure will, friend!" Flowey said, in a tone of voice that suggested I Wouldn't At Gunpoint.

"so you're the talking flower," Sans said. "can't imagine what my bro wanted to do with you. if he were still around... well--"

"I'd be dead where I stand?" Flowey said.

"you sure are good at guessing," Sans said. "neato. want to guess how many fingers i'm holding up?"

Flowey didn't need to look to see he was holding up a particular one. Funny! Flowey hadn't seem him do that before. But this was all new- not even in a variation of an existing timeline, just something he hadn't ever seen before- and goodness, how mortifying fun it was!

Something itched inside Flowey to bite him, just for kicks! Or maybe tell him what it sounded like when the human crushed Papyrus's skull under their boot. Or--

breathing heavy breathing STOP looking at me like that what did i do wrong im your best friend chara is that you?

He stopped-- stopped moving, swaying his petals from side to side, breathing, smiling. It felt like someone had flipped a switch to turn him off; he felt as if he was draining out from his roots into the floor.

But the human just stepped closer, not even showing him the dignity of a smile, just showing Flowey the same bored expression that terrified him more than hate or love or even LOVE-- pure apathy. Knowledge that when he was gone, not even his killer would bother remembering him.

Flowey felt his head going light with the lack of air. He tried to breathe but nothing happened. What was this? The room had begun spinning around him, faster, faster. He felt... strange, as if he were watching himself from someone else's point of view. It had all started when this happened, when Chara threatened him.

Flowey had almost died before, but it had all been dull, knowing he would just bring himself back. This time had been different. This time, only oblivion awaited him. Only apathy and forgottenness. Regardless of what happened, a part of him died then.

Talking to Asgore brought back this strange feeling, this rush of emotions that had been locked somewhere deep in his mind since he first woke up as a flower. He felt weak. Stupid. He felt--

The human stepped closer, close enough to exhale onto Flowey's face but were they even breathing? The knife had been sharpened, on what, bones? Their partnership? There was a gash in their leg that Flowey didn't remember but god knows that even dying didn't stop them from coming back they're coming back THEY'RE COMING BACK

"hey. hey!" Sans was saying. He had a hand on Flowey's head. The room span as if they were being pulled into a whirlpool, slower, slower, until it settled on the skeleton. Breathe. Flowey gasped until he choked. That was a start toward breathing, alright. "hey, little freako. what happened?"

"Don't touch me!" Flowey snapped, reeling back. Sans let his hand flop back to his side. "Just go see the batty old king already! He asked to talk to you now that we've got everyone safe!"

"oh? me?"

"'oh? me?'" Flowey mocked in Sans's own voice. "Yeah, bonehead! You think he didn't see you here? You think that wouldn't worry him? Just go tell him what-- what you did!"

Sans closed his eyes, deep in thought. After several minutes, he gave his deliberation: "nah."

"What?!"

"can't leave here. grown-up reasons, you wouldn't get it," Sans said. "tell him he knows where to find me."  

"Don't we all?" Flowey said. The cheer seeped back into his voice like venom into the bloodstream from a vicious bite. "Aw, pardon my manners! What I mean is that King Asgore officially summoned you to his throne room. You know how busy he is!" He leaned in, his smile somewhat off after the incident. "Between you and me, I bet it would be an embarrassment to be seen out here with you! Everyone says you went totally bonkers once you lost your brother! It's not like you're the only one grieving, you know!"

He continued on, smiling: "Can't say a King has too many hiding places, so I guess he's going to be seen with you and get it over wit--"

And he froze. Air had rushed away from him as if repelled by his presence. Flowey gasped and would have doubled over from the effort if a force weren't holding him in place.

(He must have been slipping from the stress. He never let Sans land attacks on him, not since the first time he learned what Smiley Trashbag was capable of.)

"i said joke's over, kid," Sans said. It didn't take a detective to see his hand was trembling as it was coated in blue light from the spell. "go home. i almost feel bad for you. except i don't, really," he said. "if asgore actually could stand being around you, tell him i'm not going anywhere."

Sans's hand fell unceremoniously limp back to his side as he released Flowey. The flower passed off his gasps as coughs, then laughs, then he tried to stop the laughing and found that when they stopped his body heaving didn't.

golly gosh sorry friend this isnt a good idea anymore gee whiz whats that face youre giving me this isnt funny joke's over kid you have a SICK sense of humor stop it STOP IT

Flowey had never spoken more than once without (whole timelines of) thinking. Today he was about to break his record. "You make me sick," he spat. "Sitting, wasting away, waiting to die. 'ooh, maybe the human will come by again and i can be a hero!'" he mocked. His face shifted as if fighting itself, flesh piling against flesh and stretching in other places like a rubber band pulled taut.

"THEY'RE DEAD," he continued. Sans didn't have to look to recognize his brother's voice, nor to guess it wasn't really him. He knew he'd only hear it when he lapsed into unconsciousness now. "GONE. IT WASN'T ENOUGH TO FAIL THEM ONCE, SO I HAD TO SHOOT FOR TWO IN A ROW!" Flowey said. His face snapped back to normal, minus the smile. "All because I didn't know when to die! Isn't that important, smart guy? Knowing when to give up? If we're going to die, then we're going to die! Not much we can do about it! Would've happened on the surface anyway, might as well get the early bird special!"

He continued on, speaking so fast that his words trailed together: "Those load of chumps hiding out in there sure could use someone with scientific knowledge and Old King Oblivious needs to know as much about the human as possible if they do come back without dragging all that's happened since then back into the void! I wonder where I'd find someone like that?" he said, and didn't even stop to pretend to ponder. "Standing in this stupid hallway like he probably was when Doctor Alphys KILLED HERSELF."

(As much as Flowey shouted the last two words, they didn't seem unfamiliar in his voice, as if he had experienced the topic before.)

He found himself again trying to catch his breath. He figured he might as well enjoy his last few-- he had calculated the probability of Sans killing him before, but the human and all had thrown a bit of an unexpected variable in the mix. Now he'd really gone off. Add in the fact that Flowey had tried and failed to reset for the last several hours straight and he almost welcomed the release from his exhaustion, his pain, his... anger?

I'm... angry? he found himself thinking. And not just mimicking?

His time to ponder it ran short as Sans lifted his hand again, surely for another attack. He braced himself and listened to what would doubtlessly be the last words he'd ever hear: "i'll go."

Flowey waited. He waited another second. He opened his eyes. Sans scratched his skull as if Flowey had been talking about how much he loved watching paint dry.

"What?"

"i said i'll go," Sans said. He shrugged. "you're right. if that kid comes back, i'm in no condition to fight them. they'll probably go looking for the king, anyway."

"Oh... right. Okay," Flowey said, as if hearing this idea for the first time. He felt so lost. Everything he'd experienced for what felt like decades had already happened to him at least twice. This was all brand-new. It scared him to his core that if he said something he didn't like, if he made a mistake, he couldn't go back.

Sans didn't afford him any other words as, for the first time in ages, he left the judgement hall. He glanced back once at the foreboding darkness that the human had walked in from. Nothing. At the spot where the human dropped their knife and pretended to quit. Nothing. At the spot where Sans killed the human for seemingly the last time. Nothing. Nobody.

"hey," Sans found himself saying. "a quick question for ya."

"Huh?" Flowey asked.

"what did you mean when you said you failed the human twice?"

Sans, in all his exhaustion, couldn't so much as break his stride when Flowey realized what he had said and ducked underground and out of sight.

Chapter Text

Sans hadn't always been quite healthy.

He wasn't sure if he was ever 'diagnosed', per se. It was just something he always knew. He couldn't run as long as the other kids, jump as high as the other kids, hit as hard as the other kids.

(he always knew, in the back of his mind, that he would die before papyrus. maybe he'd trip or just sneeze really hard and that would be it.

guess i was wrong again, huh, bro? he thought.)

The skeleton stopped to take a break during the relatively short walk to Asgore's throne room-- not out of laziness, but necessity. He cast a glance behind him. Still no human.

Looking back, he thought the first time Papyrus found out that Sans was different happened when Sans was 3 and Papyrus was 7. As the older brother, Papyrus had always assumed responsibility and control, even when he clearly had grasp on neither. All the world he was a child himself and lived out so many games of pretend because he needed play like any other child... and he used it to his advantage. He put on his cape and became The Great Papyrus and never stopped smiling. He never cried, he never showed he was scared, he never stopped believing in them both.

To say they had been lost was an understatement; they couldn't be more lost unless they vanished into time and space. Their father was a scientist, all the world a good man with a heart overflowing with kindness, but they only saw the better of it every few days. He had the tendency to vanish to his lab for days at a time, forgetting eating and sleeping in its wake.

Sans leaned back against the wall, now. Just a little further- no more than a few steps, but it felt like all the world- and he would be at the throne room. He hoped he could leave his contemplation behind in the hall, but it followed him like a ball and chain. Papyrus had wanted nothing more than to be a Royal Guardsman, and yet he died refusing to fight because he so wholeheartedly believed in the worst murderer the Underground had been cursed with.

"back already?" he muttered to himself. His words slid out of his mouth and pooled around his feet. He stared at his slippers, envisioning them dissolving into dust and making their way to a world beyond.

"I HAVE! I DID YOUR ROUNDS, TOO!" the young Papyrus had said. Sans knew how to walk, of course-- he just didn't. His father said that Sans was a lazybones, which Papyrus hated himself for laughing at.

Funny-- their father was the Underground's brightest mind, and he didn't know that Sans taught himself to walk as little as possible because of his brittle bones.

They could have gone on longer, all the way until they found a human like they promised. Sans should have stopped miles ago, and yet he continued until he collapsed on the ground. His bare feet were misshapen and cracking.

Although Papyrus didn't admit it, the prospect of stubbing his toe made his eyesockets water a little. Seeing Sans like this terrified him. He had immediately bandaged Sans's feet the best he could, confused, scared. Sans had never complained about anything; as a baby, he slept more than he cried, no matter how often their father forgot to give him his bottle.

Papyrus had supposed some things never changed.

"it's freaky here," Sans had said, after they both settled down to rest. The water of Waterfall roared and yet was still as a portrait in other parts; it would seemingly fade to silent and then a great splash would happen as if something had dived in. "what if there's something scary waiting to get us?"

(oh-- how long before he learned how to worry in silence.)

"IT'S OKAY!" Papyrus had said. "YOU'RE IN THE PRESENCE OF HEAD OF THE ROYAL GUARD PAPYRUS! I GUARANTEE THAT NOTHING SCARY NOR SPOOKY NOR SKOOKY IS GETTING NEAR US!"

"okay," Sans had said. He picked at his bandages; Papyrus stilled his hand and pulled off his own boots before putting them on Sans's own feet. They were comically large on him-- something that got a giggle out of the younger skeleton.

They had settled sleeping around a guards post, softening it with grass and flowers. The wood had warped with disrepair. Papyrus had pulled out a piece of sharp wood from it and waved it around in the air like a sword. "IF ANY SPOOKS ARE LISTENING, IF YOU ARE FRIENDLY BUT CREEPY, YOU MAY STOP IN FOR A VISIT SO LONG AS YOU DON'T KEEP US UP PAST OUR BEDTIME! WHICH I ASSUME IS SOON!" he announced. "IF YOU ARE UNFRIENDLY, HOWEVER, STAY VERY FAR AWAY OR FACE THE WRATH OF THE STRONGEST ROYAL GUARDSMAN IN THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD!"

His imagined sword tricks got another giggle out of the young Sans. His bones were still soft, malleable, growing-- they were supposed to stiffen as he grew, but his were still far softer and more delicate than they should have been at his age. He was still young enough for it to be perceived as normal.

"SO BE YOU MONSTER OR SPOOKY THING OR HOO-MAN, HEED MY WARNING!" Papyrus said.

"what's a hoo-man?" Sans asked again. He'd asked at least 30 times on the expedition; they originally set out to find a human for their dad to study.

"THEY'RE THOSE THINGS THAT DAD KEEPS GOING ON ABOUT!" Papyrus said again, patiently. "MAYBE WE'LL MEET ONE! DO YOU THINK WE'LL MEET A HOO-MAN, SANS?"

"yeah," Sans said, in the present. "i really, really hope so."

"I'm sorry, did you say something?" said a voice.

Sans's eyes shot open. None other than Asgore stood before him, carrying an enormous hiking backpack as if it were a purse. The king smiled awkwardly. "Er... I hope I did not startle you. I asked that little flower to find you as soon as we had the chance, but I wanted to go refill our coffers with food for the hungry. I was on the way, so..."

The skeleton held up a hand. "it's fine. i'm not sure i get what you mean, though." he added, his eyes dimming, "flowers don't talk."

"Well, er, not under normal circumstances--"

"hey, did you say food?" sans said. "if you're looking, we got everyone out of snowdin in record time. everything should be intact if the kid didn't eat it." He shoved his hands in his pockets before the king saw him ball them into fists as he remembered his dream-- of the other world, where the human stuffed their pockets with cinnamon bunnies. "grocery stores, fridges, you name it."

"It's very kind of you to offer," Asgore said. "However, Snowdin is furthest from here... I had been planning to look through Hotland first."

"it's not furthest if you know how to get there," Sans said, winking. "how do you think i got everyone out to safety so fast? c'mon, let's walk and talk."

Having regained his energy, he started walking with Asgore. He had enough energy to use one of his 'shortcuts' by now. He knew he gained some amount of LOVE from killing the human, but still it wasn't enough to combat how fragile he was.

Maybe he wasn't stronger at all, in the end. After all, when he warped himself and Asgore to Snowdin, he made sure to direct them away from his and Papyrus's own house.

They'd find little in there, anyway-- some uncooked pasta, sprinkles around his pet rock, maybe some ketchup packets. They absolutely would never go in and see the remains of Papyrus's battle body, sitting on his bed, as if he changed into his casual outfit and would come back to put it on at any second. The outfit he would wear when he finally would stand proud as an official royal guardsman and Sans would think he was cooler than ever.

(no matter what, sans had said under his breath, not daring drop his casual corny facade for a moment, on the first day Papyrus had started training for the guard, you'll always be the great papyrus to me.)

---

ENTRY NUMBER 22: she's dead. everyone knows we're just prolonging the inevitable now. we're all just waiting to die down here.

ENTRY NUMBER 23: they're all asking questions i don't know how to answer. i need to call asgore now. they can trust him. i don't know what to do. when they find out i'm a fraud, they'll really have nothing left.

Flowey's eyes scanned over the screens. These were new to this run. He truly found himself, for once, unprepared. The only ones he remembered word-for-word were the ones that mentioned himself.

What happens when something without a SOUL gains the will to live?

It smiles, sings, and chickens out when it tries to kill itself. Chara suffered through the most painful death they thought a human could. Why did he have to be the one alive? The one chance he had to see Chara again, who was he to question their motives?

(He berated himself, even, for questioning if it was really Chara. It had to have been. It had been fate. It had all been leading up to this.)

ENTRY NUMBER 24: the human passed through the lab. if they found us down here... i dont want to think about it.

Flowey felt as if this would have absolutely enthralled him, the way it did when the human first shambled up to him. The breadth of choices! The danger of irreversibility!

Creatures like us wouldn't hesitate to kill each other if we got in each other's way!

The striking feeling of loneliness that, no matter how he tried, he couldn't ever bring them back.

As far as he saw it, there were two possibilities: either the human was still out there somewhere, somehow, with their determination overpowering Flowey's...

N-no hard feelings about earlier, right?

... Or he lost his own determination when he turned his back on the only thing he ever hoped for.

"Here's a new entry," he whispered to himself. "What becomes of a being which only has a will to live when it has none left?"

ENTRY NUMBER 25: someone asked if their 'fallen down' family was down here i

ENTRY NUMBER 26: people started asking questions i panicked and told them asgore was on the way i cant call him i cant even breathe

Flowey shut his eyes tightly and then opened them again. The screen remained active in front of him. Nothing had changed.

He had no idea what made him think he would find anything of use down here. Truthfully, he found himself here some timelines. He had memorized all the entries about himself, and yet he read them again and again. Just knowing it was Alphys's fault he was forced to live through this soulless nightmare sparked a bitter hatred in him. He oh-so enjoyed causing her suffering when he had the chance to.

Pushing Alphys to suicide was one of the easiest variables to trigger in any route, he'd found. Kill Mettaton. Kill Undyne. Hell, don't even kill them, just let any of them get hurt and make Dr. Idiot think it was her own fault. Flowey had laughed himself to sleep watching monsters bang on the door to her lab when he leaked the truth about the Amalgamates (plus some slightly fluffed rumors about how she tortured them) only to find dust-- and not even guess it was her own!

"Who did she kill this time?" he mimicked now. He added, taking on Undyne's voice: "To think I... NGAAH! I won't rest until I've brought her to justice!"

He made himself smile. He knew how to put on a smile. That timeline always made him--

Something wet fell to the floor, then again, then again. In all his timelines, crying was the one thing he hadn't done.

(-- laugh.)

"You're such a crybaby, Asriel!"

Flowey spun around, but nobody was there. His breathing hitched. He heard it. He heard it!

"Where are you?!"

Silence. The vent fans let out a groan.

"Chara! I know you're here!" he said. "I'll be good! I won't get in your way, I promise! After all it's me!"

A footstep, one or a thousand-- had it been echoes? The voice he heard echoing was foreign to him, even now, but of course it was, Asriel was dead and he was Flowey now, right?

"Your best friend!" Flowey said desperately. "I'm here! I never betrayed you, see? I-it was all a misunderstanding! I didn't let you die! I didn't! I--"

A whoosh of cold air passed over him. He pivoted, twisting his roots, looking desperately for anything that would help him find Chara. That's why he was down here in this festering craphole now that Dad-- Asgore got all the people out of hiding. Surely that Doctor had to have known something!

No! Nobody knew anything! He was sure he could have made that idiot lizard slit her idiot throat just by telling everyone who he really was but what was the fun in that?

If you love Chara so much, whispered the silence of the lab, why didn't you steal the SOULs while you had the chance and bring them back?

"I-- I wasn't thinking about it! Even if I never got past the old man, I still don't know where he hides the SOULs! I thought-- I always thought I could torture it out of him--"

It's because

You were

Something triggered the fans to kick back on fully, blowing the fog all away with a great roar.

S C A R E D

Flowey twisted and twisted and finally lost balance on his own stem and fell, his face smacking up a cloud of dust from the tile. He looked around now that the lab was clearing up to see if the human was there. Nobody. He checked again and again; he saw a shadow pass that was gone when he looked up so he slammed his face down again, again, again until he saw the shadow pass only through the vanishing cloud of white.

Who am I?! he thought. Why am I feeling these things? Where are you?

The lab's deafening silence once again was just silence. It didn't warp to form words. It didn't fill his mind like the white fog. Nobody came. Nobody had been there to begin with.

Flowey let himself lay on the ground, tangled up, useless. Grief, anger, fear, they all tore into him where Chara wouldn't, sharper than any knife after years of hovering just behind his stem.

He closed his eyes. He could feel the grass dancing around him in Asgore's garden. He could smell the other flowers and shiver at the dewdrops rolling down his petals. He could practically feel his save point. He willed it as hard as he could: please, go back, go back, go back--

He opened them again. Tile floors, dust, a display screen reading an all-too-familiar sentiment.

A thousand timelines, a million resets, and only now for the first time, Flowey found it was too late.

Chapter Text

The only time Sans let his smile slip the whole visit was when the only food item they discovered stolen was dozens of cinnamon bunnies.

Laughter like chimes floated away in the breeze, further, further, until Sans was sure they were just in his head, a dream of a life far, far away.

"So," Asgore started.

"if we bottle up some of the snow, it'll melt into fresh water," Sans said. "i imagine all alphys had left for 'em was some soda."

"Oh-- yes, that is a fine idea," Asgore said. "However, I had something else I wished to--"

"wait, we didn't check the hotel," Sans said. He gave a strained wink. "might as well get a supply of free mints for everyone."

"Sans, was it?"

The skeleton slumped his shoulders, a sigh easing its way from his bones. With no muscle or cartillage or anything, he wasn't sure how he held together. Perseverance? Willpower? He didn't know the word. It started with D? Determinant? Deuteragonist? Hell if he cared! He just knew he felt like he should've collapsed years ago!

He smiled as if the past few days hadn't aged him a hundred years.

"yep, what's up?" he said, calm. He caught a glimpse of Asgore's expression and pretended to be busy bottling up snow.

"I... never got the chance to say I am sorry for your loss," Asgore said. "The pain of losing family cannot be described."

"how about saying it sucks?" he said.

Asgore looked to the side as if embarrased. "I suppose that is one way of putting it."

Sans gave up on the snow idea-- some of it was still yellow from the canine unit of the royal guard. It wouldn't be for much longer. He leaned on a tree, glancing up at the cave ceiling that, on his best days, he would be deluded into calling a 'sky'.

Asgore spoke softly, as if speaking to himself: "how much do you know about the war of humans and monsters?"

"just what my pops told me," Sans said. He knew Asgore was about to tell a story; he would take Sans's words without pressing too much.

"Your father?"

"he's nobody," Sans said.

(and he honestly, literally was.)

Asgore let it slide. "Well... I was not yet king at that time. That was my father," he said. "He was the great king of monsterkind for as long as anyone could remember. Perhaps since monsters started to walk the earth.

"When the war begun, I had wanted to take as many of monsterkind into hiding as possible. There was no way we could win without a miracle. Yet my father was a hero to our people. He wouldn't hear a word of evacuation or surrender." He paused, as if somewhere far away. "I didn't say get to say goodbye. He left me behind in a fortress with our people. His last words to me were 'watch over them while I'm gone.'"

Sounds familiar, Sans thought, but didn't say a word.

The king closed his eyes for a moment. "... Not all of us can keep our promises."

"... yeah," Sans said. "guess we know the ending to this story."

For a while, Sans wasn't sure if they were speaking of the past or the present. They had kind of blended together, anyway.

They both ended with a human.

"Even if I have lost so much, I still continue on each day. Ah, but I have spoken for too long. Sans. I would like to thank you for protecting me and my people from harm," Asgore said.

"aw. it was nothing," Sans said.

a lot of good it's going to do us, he thought.

"It was not simply 'nothing'," Asgore said. "If that human reached me... In the heat of the moment, I'm not sure I could have absorbed the six SOULs. If I didn't..."

The skeleton shrugged. "but it didn't happen, yeah? nothing to worry about."

Asgore looked as if he had something to say. Sans tensed until he was about to snap-- and then the king let out a sigh. "Let us return home. I'll brew us a fresh pot of tea to warm us up."

"wait."

He turned. "What could be wrong?"

"... what’d you do?" Sans asked. He tried all the world to sound casual, curious about his story but not enough to open his eyes or move away from the tree. "after you lost your dad. how did you know what the right choice was?"

Asgore seemed to think for a moment, himself. "... I did not know. That is all there is to it. I still do not know if any of the choices I have made have been the correct ones. What comforts me is knowing that I still do the best I can." He gave a tired smile. "It is knowing that if I were given a thousand chances, I would make the best decision I could every time. That is worth it in and of itself."

Papyrus had stopped at nothing to achieve his goals, his dreams-- royal guard, millions of fans, Sans could hear them all in his head even now. And then he one time it counted most, Sans thought, the human took advantage of him. The human murdered him in cold blood.

Or did Papyrus know it would happen?  

His fists clenched tight in his hoodie pockets. How could throwing his life away be the best choice? How could leaving him be the best choice?

(if the human reset it all, would papyrus have done it again?

would the human have done it again?)

"huh. i see," Sans said casually. "welp, we better get heading back. they must be wondering where we got to."

"Oh, and Sans?"

"yeah?"

"What is that on your shirt?"

Sans glanced down at his tee in case there was ketchup or some splatters of the human on it. Asgore used the finger he had been pointing with to flick upward, but hit empty air where Sans's nose socket was.

"Er... got you," he laughed. It was a bad laugh at a bad joke, something that rightfully would've been accompanied by ruffling his hair if he had any. Something about it caused an ache in Sans's chest-- yet it didn't exactly hurt. "Ha ha. Tori taught me that one," he said.

Sans chuckled. "did she know any knock-knock jokes?"

"Hm? One or two, if I recall... why do you ask?"

He started walking back toward his 'shortcut', smiling at something so far away. "eh, no reason. no reason at all."

---

"Y'know, if you keep making that face, it'll get stuck like that."

Monster Kid practically jumped out of their shirt (they left the cape behind as something of a shared blanket for the other kids-- it was massive). They had been sitting in the empty throne room, staring at nothing, for ages until someone spoke up from the doorway. When they looked, they saw an old turtle man, a wistful smile on his face.

"O-oh, like, I didn't think nobody else was here," Monster Kid said.

There was a twinkle in the old man's eye. "I had just been wondering what happened to the curiosity of you kids. Seems like just yesterday you were trying to climb into my shell. Wa ha ha!"

Monster Kid looked at their feet. They had been careful not to step on any flowers. Just a few days ago, they would have trampled all of them thoughtlessly, King Asgore's or not. "Yeah."

The old man, with some effort, got down to his knees to look Monster Kid in the eye. "Kiddo... I won't tell King Fluffybuns. Just fulfill an old man's curiosity. What was it you were doing in here?"

"Nothin'."

"Nothing?"

Monster Kid shuffled on their feet. "I got lost."

"Mm, I see." The turtle pretended to be mulling it over for a moment before he grinned. "So lost you pried open a window to get in here?"

"C-c'mon!" Monster Kid said. "Undyne doesn't-- didn't... care about that stuff. She just... did... what was right no matter what."

"Yes, that she did. A fighter, that one," he said. "It feels just like yesterday she was spendin' all day trying to lift up heavier and heavier rocks for some ol' reason or another."

They chuckled a bit. "Yeah. And yo, like... when she doe-- did that thing where she like, smashed a whole board in half with just her head! That was, like, crazy cool."

"Might that be why you have a little bump on your head, yourself?" the old man teased.

Monster Kid huffed. "Course not! That was nothin'!"

"Wa ha ha! I got it, I got it," he said.

He sat down in the grass next to Monster Kid, who had settled down as well. For a while, they simply listened to the distant chirp of birds.

"So... why are you here?" Monster Kid asked.

"Waterfall's dampness was getting bad on the old joints," he said. "Got word that everyone was safe here. So, I walked on up to meet with ol' Fluffybuns."

"Were you hiding from the... the human?" they asked, but their mind already switched gears.  "Yo, y'mean King Asgore? Or 'Mr. Dreemurr', haha," they said, remembering a time that felt so long ago.

When their class was still alive.

"Yeah, he went to go, uh, find more food for everyone or something," Monster Kid said, as if the old man hadn't noticed Asgore was gone. He left out his confrontation with the human, and Monster Kid seemed all too happy to let it slide. "Everyone else is all scared to go out."

"Oh, I don't mind waiting," he said. "You know, my old memory's not what it used to be, but this place... it's closest to what the surface was like. I like it here."

Monster Kid's eyes went wide. "Yo!!! You've been to the surface?!"

The old man chuckled. He could tell there would be no avoiding this question. "I'm from there, kid! Royal adviser to the King's dad, and a soldier, and a shopkeeper and... er... some other stuff," he said. "Name's Gerson. Just call me that, everyone does."

Monster Kid ignored that this was the part where they would introduce themself too. "Dude! Like, what was King Asgore's dad like? And was he like really giant as a kid too? Yo, and like, was the surface super rad or only like kinda rad?" they fired off.

"Easy there!" Gerson chuckled. "Er... let's see. Fluffybuns's pops? Can't say I remember much about him. Older'n me, that's for sure! Hm... Strict, but... cared lots about his people, just like our King today."

"But what happened to him?" Monster Kid asked.

Gerson leaned back a little and closed his eyes, as if deep in thought. "Yessir... I remember that day very well. The last day I served him. He had me stay put in a fort with Asgore and guard him with my life, that's what he said."

"Yo, th-then what?" Monster Kid asked. They started jiggling their legs impatiently, juggling the other questions they asked and potential new ones in their head-- they hadn't been this excited in days!

Gerson smiled sadly. "In truth? Legends say he threw himself in front of a human to protect them from crossfire."

"A human?!"

"Yep! Ah, I remember that kid... wore that scruffy ol' poncho wherever they went," he said. "Even though that kid and Asgore were childhood friends... they joined the humans to protect their family, just like the Dreemurrs protected us. One day, they came wandering up to one of our fortresses. They say that the humans used 'em as bait of some kind. Then, when they would've been the first human casualty of the war... well, I s'pose you can guess the rest of it."

Monster Kid stopped fidgeting fast, sitting in stunned silence. "That's... like, wow. I can't believe it..."

"It's as true as my fuzzy old memory will have it," Gerson said. "Ah... sorry if I talked for too long again. Seems like not a lot of kids care about monster history so much. I know Undyne preferred the kind with more moving pictures."

"No nonono, it was like, so cool!" Monster Kid said. They grinned, another question coming forth in their mind. "And the surface, was it all green and stuff?"

"Oh, there was some brown and blue too," he said, grinning as if withholding a private joke. "Probably a few more."

Monster Kid looked up toward the ceiling as if imagining all the possible new colors the surface held. They had so many more questions-- then, steadily, sadly, their face drooped.

"Hey, um..."

"Hmm?"

Monster Kid dug in the dirt with their foot a little. "You must've really liked King Asgore's dad, right? Since you, like, worked for him."

Gerson scratched his chin. "Yessir, I remember being around the royal family just about my whole life. And that's a long time, mind you!"

"Were you sad when you found out that he... y'know," Monster Kid said. "What happened. Weren't you upset?"

"... Yes. Of course I was," Gerson said, after a moment. "He was a great man. How he passed away is testament to that."

"Weren't you mad?" Monster Kid asked. "At the human? Because it was their fault that Asgore's dad died? He would've still been around if they weren't... in the way."

"Hey, now--"

"A-and the humans locked monsters up anyway!" Monster Kid said, speaking even faster than before. "E-even after all that! S-so it was... it was pointless! He should've just let the human die!"

Gerson put a hand on Monster Kid's back. The simple gesture had been more than they'd received since everything started, everyone had been so panicked; it was all they could do not to faint as they leaned onto Gerson's shoulder. They began to sob-- giant, chest-wracking sobs at least twice their size, leaving them bruised and battered where the human didn't. He patted their back, letting them cry, smelling the pollen in the air and drifting back to a time when he comforted Asgore in the same way.

"Easy there," Gerson said. "Easy. I don't blame the old king for doing what he did at all. He laid down his life protecting someone he didn't have to. Even if it wasn't one of his own... I know if he could have reset somehow, the old coot would've done the same darn thing."

"But it's not fair!" Monster Kid cried. "He didn't have to die! It wasn't his fault! He would've lived if the human wasn't there!"

"It was the old king's choice. He chose to do that," Gerson said. "You can't just go back and change things, no matter how much you want to. And, you know..." He closed his eyes again, bracing himself for what he was about to say. "It wasn't for nothing. The humans didn't want to simply seal us away. They wanted us gone. Forever, if you get my drift."

"But... that human kid, the one I met--"

"Even if they showed up and started killing us regardless of his sacrifice, Asgore's father still gave us a chance. That... human- they sure didn't look like any human I ever saw- they might've done some damage. But, you know, we're still here. Monsters will rebuild. It's what we do," Gerson said. "Trust me. I've seen it."

For a while, Monster Kid said nothing. Gerson produced a handkerchief from his pocket and Monster Kid blew their nose into it. They sat for a while longer, calming down, lost in the middle of the past and the future.

"I came here to take the human SOULs," Monster Kid whispered. It was so sudden, so soft, Gerson wasn't sure if he really heard it. But then they continued: "It's cause... I let Undyne down. I just got in the way and she got hit 'cause of me. And I watched and then I was running and I ran so far and... I didn't do anything.

"So... I came here, 'cause everyone said that Asgore has these SOUL things that'll save us, and I thought if I could use 'em, I could be a hero like her... and everyone could be happy again."

Gerson gazed beyond the throne, towards somewhere that only Asgore had been for a long time. "... You're just like her."

"Huh?"

"Undyne," he said. "I'm old enough to remember when she was just a wee fish runnin' around like she owned the place. First time we met, I found her and these two other kids, these skeleton boys, together. The boys were very lost and she was helping 'em find their way home."

Monster Kid just gave a small smile. "Man, that... sounds like her, yeah."

"Wa ha ha! And she made me give directions as she marched us all the way back to this big lab! Because... um... I don't remember."

(nobody remembered. nobody except the youngest boy in the story and nobody himself.

the effect was so powerful, when papyrus asked to join the royal guard, undyne thought they met the first time.)

"Y-you really think I'm like her?"

"You know it!" Gerson said. "Reckless, for one, aha. But... very brave. I can tell you've been through a lot, but you're still here. I can feel your fighting spirit."

"But... what would Undyne do if she were, like... still here?"

Gerson grinned. "Hm... massage an old man's stiff shoulders?"

"Nuh-uh! Not without, like, karate chops!" they laughed, and soon Gerson was joining in too.

"Can't blame an old man for tryin'," he said. "Nah... probably she'd stay with everyone and fire their spirits back up. Always was good at that."

Monster Kid hopped to their feet. "You're right! Everyone's like, super sad over there! I've gotta cheer up all my friends!"

"I think the rest of us wouldn't mind a little cheering up, too," Gerson said.

"Yeah, well, like, everyone's my friend now! I'm gonna make 'em my friends and then they're all gonna be happy again! It's the ultimate plan!" they said. "Thanks, old dude! See you around!"

They stumbled a bit as they ran away-- not out of clumsiness, but  they swore there was something under their foot. They didn't look back, though; they had somewhere to be.

...

........

...Just underneath the ground, Flowey held his breath, his head aching where the kid's foot rammed into it.

It felt like all he could do now was watch and listen. He was good at that, even before he knew that one mistake would mean his death forever this time, no going back. He'd left the lab and come back only to hear strange voices in the throne room.

(Sheesh, he thought, where did smiley trashbag and the old goat go off to for so long? Maybe the human came back and they fought-- no, no, don't be hopeful, don't be stupid.)

This was interesting. He hardly ever paid much attention to the old coot from Waterfall in his resets. Note to self, he thought, mess with that kid in future runs to get more info out of... them...

Oh. Wait. Flowey clenched his teeth, furious at himself, trying to force a reset over and over again.

Stupid old man. Stupid story. Stupid kid. Stupid everything! Flowey practically burst out of the ground in fury. Why did he feel so... weird after all this?! What was this heavy feeling in his core? It was driving him crazy! He didn't like this run. He wanted it to be over. He just wanted to go back to when he was in control, when he could mess with everything as he liked, when--

the human stumbled in, and their eyes were red, they were really red just like chara's

-- when nothing.

Flowey practically spat. Whatever. What did it matter if Asgore's dad died like a moron? Who would sacrifice everything just for some stupid kid?

(The blackness of the dirt closed in on him and the heaviness in his chest was beating like his missing heart and he heard a voice, he heard a cry to see golden flowers one last time and a reminder to not forget.)

"I- I don't know if I like this plan anymore..."

A phantom limb tingled with phantom neurons as Flowey felt another phantom hand gently grasp his own. "We have to. We can't take it back now. We have to save everyone."

Flowey realized he was heaving for breath and choking on soil and roots, but he went unheard as footsteps vibrated on the ground above him. He heard Asgore's voice reach his ears, warped, muffled; he had returned. Gerson must be speaking with him. He couldn't make out the words.

Then Asgore's voice came to him again, strikingly clear.

"This is all just a bad dream... Chara! Stay deter--"

"NO!"

Flowey jumped out of the ground in terror. The skeleton, the old coot and Asgore himself all recoiled in surprise. He gasped for breath, shaking, all eyes on him.

"I was wondering where you had gone," Asgore said. "Er... are you alright? You look like you have seen a ghost..."

And Asgore said more, probably, but the voices flooding back to Flowey's memory overpowered them and soon he was taken fully by them. He remembered collapsing, and he remembered the world going black, and he remembered sitting with his legs crossed and his arms in his lap listening to Chara tell a story about humans while seated on the edge of the bed with the scent of pie in the oven wafting through the house.

Chapter Text

For days, nobody spoke, as if the evacuees were already dead.

It was a complete turnaround of monster culture. Someone would trip and fall and everyone would keep walking with their heads a little lower rather than offer help. Instead of crowding around the TV to see Mettaton's new premiere, everyone fell asleep shortly after dinner ended and woke at the crack of dawn, still in the same fog, living through endless cycles.

And then the visions. When people did speak, it was only in whispers; some said that they saw dead monsters returning even if the human killed them. Others claimed they heard strange noises, otherworldly cries-- but when they would look, nobody was there. They would brush it off as nothing- they would pray it was just nothing- and then they'd return to the same dreary cycles.

"Hey, like," Catty said once, pointing at a pie crust on the floor. "Do you wanna dare me to eat that in like one bite?"

Bratty seemed to just clench her jaw tighter. She didn't say the same words at the same time. She didn't give a crazy enthusiastic 'yeah'. She just shook her head slightly and kept walking back to her part of the camp.

She was acting as gloomy as Alphys, Catty thought once, and immediately regretted it.

Alphys. She hadn't heard that name in a while. There hadn't been a funeral, but everyone mourned. The rumor that the human had died had lifted tension a little, but nobody was sure. People said that humans didn't turn to dust when they died, but they left a body. And in this case, there was no body. Asgore, too, hadn't said anything and went to go scavenge for resources rather than answer.

Catty resented him for the first time in her life. He might've been a total beefcake like Alphys said, but regardless, he wimped out at the one chance he had to cheer everyone up. If he did kill the human- and really, who else was strong enough to?- then he should have the 7th SOUL, right? If he did, why didn't he free them and end this misery? And if he didn't, what was he hiding from his people?

"Hey!" she asked Bratty. "Wanna be like, secret agents and go see if Asgore has the 7th SOUL?"

The other girl's eyes had just been glazed over, lost.

"I bet, like, he has all sorts of embarrassing stuff about his ex in his place!" Catty said. Bratty loved gossip. "Ooh! D'you think he like scribbled Alphys's name in hearts in his diar--"

"What's wrong with you?" Bratty snapped.

"H-huh?"

"Don't you know she's dead?"

The word cut Catty like a knife. "And Mettaton, too, okay? So, like, just... stop it. You're just making it worse," Bratty said. She averted her eyes right after as if she avoided saying it, but there was no apology, not even a 'just kidding'.

"We're not gonna make anything better by just moping!"  

"We're just going to get killed like the others if we stick our noses where they don't belong!"

"Are you serious?! We're gonna get killed just sitting here waiting to get picked off like a bunch of mopes!" Catty shouted. Other monsters had stopped to look at them. "It's because Mettaton and everyone's dead that we've gotta do something or-- or else!"

An eternity stretched between that moment and the moment, finally, when Bratty opened her mouth to reply.

"I can't believe I used to be friends with you."

And she lowered her head again, as if trying to hide her face, and walked away. Other monsters lingered for a moment or two, some looking sympathetic, but not enough to do anything besides turn and walk away too.

Catty stood frozen in place, stunned. Rage boiled up from the depths of her SOUL- does she think Alphys wasn't my friend too, or that I didn't love Mettaton as much as her?- and then, before she burst, her anger too crumbled to dust.

She didn't know anyone who thought the same as she did. The human had won. The human had destroyed them all, in one way or another.

But they wouldn't destroy her.

She slinked about the castle as if trying to avoid being caught-- but who would report her, really? Who would care?

"It's not like there's a Royal Guard or anything," she said. Silence. She looked over to her right for a reply.

I can't believe I used to be friends with you.

Oh. Right.

She pushed open the gate and headed out into the capital. Empty buildings in an empty world and an orange streak bolting directly towards her-- and a crack like thunder as something hit her head on.

"Yo! Are you okay?" the orange lightning bolt- just some kid, really- asked. "... Also, ow!"

"Kind of, like, a delayed reaction," Catty giggled.

"Yeah, well, my brain's in a rush," the kid said. "I gotta get back to everyone right away!"

She knew she should have been scared, yet she only felt a pang of curiosity. "Are you... like, running from something?" she asked. Lots of kids had reported being scared by 'the dead monsters coming back' lately.

"What? No!" the kid said. "No, I gotta get back to everyone to cheer them up! It's what Undyne would do!"

"You mean the fish lady?" The only image of her that Catty could pull up of her was watching her melt.

"This world has to live on!"

"Yeah... that does sound like her, I guess," Catty said. She wondered-- what would Mettaton do if he were around? Probably the same.

They had died in the same way, after all.

"They need it. It's like, like a funeral over there, except forever," Catty said.

The Monster Kid grimaced. "W-well not for long! Wait until they see... THIS!"

They spun dramatically on their heel and grabbed a rock in their teeth. Then, rearing back, they spat it as far into the air as they could.

"BOULDER... STRIKE!" they shouted. The rock had reached its apex and begun its descent. It plummeted toward the ground-- the Monster Kid reared back for some kind of jump kick--

Clunk!

Catty covered her mouth with her hands. "Ohmigosh! Are you, like, okay?"

A muffled 'yeah' came from where Monster Kid was now laying, facedown, a new lump forming on their head. They sprang back to their feet. "I can do it! C'mon, where'd the rock go? Gimme a second chance!"

She gave her first genuine laugh in ages, putting a hand on their shoulder. "Probably better if you, you know, didn't."

"Yo, you're right!" Monster Kid said. "I gotta save it for the audience! Are you coming or not?"

She purred in contemplation. "I, like, would, little monster kid, but... I gotta figure out something."

They leaned in. "Yo, what are you tryin' to find out?"

"Like..." She threw her hands up in frustration. "Like, anything! It's just been a complete standstill! What happened to the human?! Why did Alphys do what she did? Why do people think dead monsters are coming back to life? Nobody's saying nothing, so I guess it's, like, up to me!"

Monster Kid turned over an empty soda can with their foot. Where Mettaton's smiling face would be on the logo, a mud stain had covered. "S'why I left too. I was, uh, wondering... yeah, wondering. About the SOULs."

"Did you figure anything out?" Catty asked, her eyes wide.

"Nope!" they declared with pride. "Guess the King keeps 'em under tight lockdown."

She clicked her teeth. If only they knew Asgore had seven SOULs, they could formulate some plan of action. Why did everyone have to be so difficult? She almost wanted that human weirdo to come back just so she could shake them for answers--

For the second time in just a few minutes, a crash. Both Catty and Monster Kid nearly jumped out of their skin. A trash can had fallen and Glamburger wrappers exploded to the empty city's wind. Monster Kid puffed out their chest. "Y-y-yo! C-come out now, or... or else!"

A trembling monster crawled out from behind the trash can, its face coated in sequins and sesame seeds. His MTT-Brand Burger Emporium uniform had torn, partially revealing an unflattering chest. "O-okay, okay, I'm coming out!"

Catty shrieked. "Ohmigosh! It's the tortured ghost of Burgerpants! The rumors were right!"

"Hey!" Burgerpants said. "I'm not dead!"

"M-man, i-it's worse than I imagined!" Monster Kid said, quaking in fear. "His voice is cracking 'cause of the unstable link between this world n' the afterlife!"

"I'm NOT dead!" Burgerpants said. He held up his hands. A drop of mustard fell unceremoniously to the pavement. "And I'll have you know, little buddy, that my voice cracking does not mean anything like that!"

Catty stepped closer. Burgerpants nearly burst a vein in the several moments it took for her to slowly reach out and poke him with the very tip of a single claw at the end of a single shaking finger. She immediately broke the tension by pulling him into a way-too-tight hug. "BURGERPANTS! Like, ohmigosh, it's really you!"

Monster Kid finally released a breath they were holding. "Mission accomplished," they said to themself.

"Yeah, it's me alright," Burgerpants said. "Where is everyone? This city is a ghost town."

Catty and Monster Kid exchanged a glance. "You, uh, know about the evacuation, right?"

He let out a strangled laugh. "No, really. What's going on?"

They both said nothing.

"... You're not joking," Burgerpants said.

"Nope," Monster Kid said.

"I slept under the counter for days!" he said. "Totally ready for Mettaton to burst in at any moment and tell me that he diverted every customer to one of his stupid shows but I wasn't allowed to leave my post to see it! Not that I'd want to!"

"Nope," Catty said.

"Yeesh..." He reached into his pocket and fumbled with a cigarette. "I thought that little weirdo was just pullin' my leg about killing everyone. If only I hadn't been working in the shop..."

"You SAW them?!" Catty asked.

"Didn't even buy anything or attack me," he said. "Totally wasted my time."

Monster Kid stared down at their feet. "Kinda... makes you feel lucky, right?"

"What? No," he said, blowing a smoke ring. "If only I hadn't been working, that little weirdo could've killed me too." He snapped his fingers in mock disappointment. "To think I missed my only chance!"

"Burgerpants! This is, like, serious!" Catty said. "What's wrong with you? Mettaton's dead! You should feel lucky to be alive!"

"No kidding?" Burgerpants asked. He stared at the end of his cigarette for a minute, just watching it burn. "Man... it's not like I liked the guy or anything as a boss, but... he was the reason I moved out to the big city, you know?"

"Yeah. Bratty's been taking it, like, really hard," she said.

"Yeah, where is she?" Burgerpants asked. He gestured at Monster Kid. "Don't think this is your usual reptile."

"She's not here," Catty said curtly, pursing her lips.

He held up his hands as if to defend himself. "Alright, alright. Sheesh," he said, adding on under his breath as if they couldn't hear: "Women."

"Yo, you had the human as a customer, right?" Monster Kid asked suddenly. "Did they tell you anything about that Dr. Alphys or, like, anything?"

Burgerpants scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, uh, no. They spent like five minutes just looking at me as if trying to make me dissolve with their eyes, but people do that to me when I give them 167 sequins instead of 168, so it's par for the course. Then they said some crap like 'everyone else is dead', but I thought it was a joke."

"Why?" Catty asked. "Because it was, like, so hard to believe?"

"No. I mean, I've fantasiz-- had, uh, nightmares about that for ages," Burgerpants said quickly. "I thought it was a joke because they laughed."

Catty felt like a hand of solid ice had gripped her by the spine. "They... laughed?"

"Yeesh, yeah... this real sick laugh, like they were the happiest freakin' person in the whole wide world," Burgerpants said. "Didn't think we were the punchline."

"That's... that's horrible!" Monster Kid said. They puffed out their cheeks in anger. "If I see them again, I'm gonna... I'm gonna stop 'em for good!"

"You might be a little late on the draw, little buddy," Burgerpants said. "Some other freak came in to the store several hours later, sniffing all over the place. I'd bet you all my detective training that they were after the weirdo."

Monster Kid and Catty exchanged yet another glance. "But..." Catty said. "Who else was out after the evacuation?"

"Wasn't me!" Monster Kid offered. "A-although I would totally stop that evil human in their tracks if I saw 'em again!"

Burgerpants shrugged. "Yeah, no. You'd need, like, two less eyes and nostrils and all that good stuff to be them. A few dozen more legs, if you could get them."

"Are you... sure you weren't, like, dreaming?" Catty asked.

"I'm pretty sure I can distinguish between dreams and reality," Burgerpants laughed. "In my dreams, for example, I'm happy."

"That sounds like..." Monster Kid's eyes went wide. "Yo... do you think it was one of the ghosts everyone kept seeing?"

"But it wasn't a dead monster, was it?" Catty asked.

He shook his head. "Not like any I've ever seen. Although it did have this weird kind of look to it... Almost like it was melting?"

"Yeah, that sounds like a ghost," Monster Kid said casually, although they had begun trembling agian. "Haha, yo... wouldn't that be messed up if... we ran into it?"

"Don't jinx it!" Catty said, a hint of panic in her voice.

"I take it back!" Monster Kid said.

"Okay, we should be saf--" Catty's sentence trailed off. She and Monster Kid had gone pale staring at Burgerpants, who was facing them.

"What? You guys believe in ghosts?" Burgerpants said with a smirk. "Kids, the real scary thing here is the economy. 'Specially now that Mettaton's dead. Am I gonna get paid? This whole evacuation thing is probably terrible for business and all, so--"

"Burgerpants."

"Yeah?"

Catty raised a trembling finger extended outward toward Burgerpants.

"Oh, I get it," he said. "This is like, that cold shoulder stuff women do? Reverse psychiatry and all that? I'm afraid that this time, the ball is in my court. Playing hard to get all of a sudden doesn't work if I wasn't hitting on you in the first place."

"Burgerpants."

"I wasn't, right?" he asked. "I mean, I know I'm a bastion of carnal masculinity, but this is an evacuation. Shouldn't you be more, uh, 'serious'?"

"Burgerpants!"

"What?!"

"Behind you," Monster Kid whispered.

"Oh. Is that all?" he said. Burgerpants turned around. Foam dripped at his feet. The... thing had returned. Where its face should be, a void; where the gap in its many legs should be, an endless black mass shifting and stretching and blinking.

It barked.

Burgerpants shrieked louder than Catty had and barreled past the two of them to flee. Monster Kid nearly tripped as they started to run also but Catty grabbed them by the collar of their shirt and bolted after Burgerpants as fast as her legs would carry her.

The beast made some kind of panting sound as it started to run after them, picking up traction as it dug its powerful legs into the pavement. "It's catching up!" Monster Kid screamed, dangling as they watched helplessly the terror run closer, closer--

And it ran past them as if it didn't even notice them, instead bolting solely after Burgerpants. "Why do the beautiful die first?!" he cried as it gained on him.

Monster Kid's eyes lit up. "Throw me," they said.

"You're joking," said Catty.

"I'm not lettin' anyone else get hurt! Throw me!"

Catty hesistaed but ultimately reared back and threw Monster Kid, sailing over their heads, reaching their apex over the ghost-monster-thing gaining on Burgerpants who was trying to choke back sobs as he ran. They closed their eyes for a moment and saw Undyne giving them a thumbs up. That was the only dead monster they needed to see, thank you very much.

"NGAAAAAAAAAH!"

It would be inappropriate to say Monster Kid landed on the creature's back so much as in it, sinking in like a fruit swallowed by a parfait. Catty gasped but they fought their way back to the surface and began striking the beast with all their might. It turned its head and faced its... mouth? at them. Monster Kid reared back as if ready to avoid being bitten but instead it was panting, not as if tired- it couldn't seem less tired from the chase- but as if... happy?

"DO SOMETHING!" Burgerpants shouted back over his shoulder.

Monster Kid wracked their brain. Fluffy ears, white coat, funny smell-- if it weren't for all the legs and goopiness, what animal would this remind them of? They thought as hard as they could. And then it hit them.

"It's a cat!" they said.

"What about this thing looks like a cat to you?" Burgerpants said.

"Wait! I got it!" Catty said. "It's, like, a firm cat! A dog!"

"I ask again!" he said, running out of breath. "What about this looks like a dog?!"

"STAY!" they shouted.

Monster Kid nearly went flying off the monster as it skidded to a halt in its tracks. Burgerpants kept sprinting for yards before he doubled over, clutching his stomach. The monster salivated onto the pavement happily.

"Y-you're a good boy," Monster Kid tried. "Yeah, you are."

The potentially-dog creature which was formerly known as a ghost-monster-thing wagged its tail. "Yo, guys!" Monster Kid said. "I think it just wants to play!"

"Are--" Burgerpants heaved for breath. "What's wrong with you?! It wanted to eat me alive!"

"No, listen!" Monster Kid said. They hopped off the monster's back. "Okay! Play dead!"

The monster cocked its head before collapsing onto its side, a few of its legs raised in play.

"That was awesome, little dude!" Catty said, venturing closer to where Monster Kid and the monster were. "Hey, it's almost... kinda cute!" Catty said. "Is this guy what everyone was, like, scared of?"

"He's not nothing to be scared of!" Monster Kid said. "Watch this! Who's a good boy?"

The dog raised its massive void-head in expectation.

"You're a good boy!"

It sprang to its many feet, panting heavier than before. It nuzzled up to Monster Kid, who embraced them back the best they could despite the sliminess of the dog's body.

"Great. That took a few decades off my lifespan," Burgerpants said, shambling back up to them. "Now can we get to wherever everyone else is hiding out so I can have a few more cigs to finish the job--"

No sooner than had he finished his sentence had the dog snapped at him. Burgerpants gasped and looked down as if expecting to be missing his legs. Instead, his pants had been torn and collapsed around his feet. A sweaty, squished Glamburger rolled out. The dog scampered up and ate it off the ground with delight.

"Like, that's why he was chasing you!" Catty said, laughing. "They don't call you Burgerpants for nothing!"

"I-I have no idea how that got there."

"The only place that thing is now is in this doggy dude's tummy!" Monster Kid cooed. "Uh, assuming he has one or two."

"I agree, though!" Catty said. "That's one mystery solved. Let's all go home!"

The monster whined. Monster Kid leaned closer and shooshed it. "What's wrong? Are you still hungry?"

"Well, he's not getting any more of this," Burgerpants said, holding his torn pants in front of his underwear.

The dog shook its head. He stood to attention and seemed to point himself in the direction he came from.

"Maybe there's, like, more of him?" Catty suggested.

"We can't go back to the castle without his friends!" Monster Kid said. "A hero would go find them all so they could be reunited!"

"And I, for one, am going to find a pillow that isn't forty trays stacked on top of each other. It's been... uh, fun," Burgerpants said, stepping away from the others.

The dog put its head down and whined again.  "Yo! You can't just leave him! We're his family now!" Monster Kid said.

"I don't get a choice in this, do I?"

"Nope!"

Burgerpants paused as if thinking of an excuse, but then the dog whined, which sounded not unlike it echoed through a million haunted caves before it exited its gaping mouth. He turned around as if about to shush it only to be greeted with Catty giving him puppy dog eyes.

He sighed. "Beautiful people. They get in your head and mess with ya. Small androgynous lizards, too. Just hang out with one and you're 'in', and then their beauty-magic rubs off on you..." he muttered, changing course to where the scary dog had pointed. The dog perked up and bounded after him, Catty and Monster Kid in close company.

Chapter Text

Flowey couldn't remember the last time he slept. He was too wary, too ready for someone to trample him or cut him out of the ground at any second. When he went a long time without resetting, he hid himself underground and closed his eyes and let the dark soil encompass him until he could pretend he understood what it felt like for a human to be buried.

Today, Flowey awoke to the smell of pie.

He opened his eyes and pretended that he wasn't, for just a moment, hoping it had all been a nightmare and he was still Asriel and that Chara was waiting for him. But there was no such luck. He was inside New Home- specifically Asgore's room- on a desk. (Not just any desk, of course-- countless times had he searched through the drawers, smirked at every pencil broken from his powerful grip, read every page of his diary, failed to understand why he lived in such staunch denial. Asriel had accepted his death before Asgore had.) 

Today, Asgore's diary had been tucked away, all dangerous items safely out of reach. To his left, a burnt little slice of snail pie on a paper plate. A note was scrawled on a napkin-- It is a family recipe! Sorry it is a touch toasty... I baked plant food into it, which somewhat lit the oven on fire.

To his right, a single french fry in a bowl of crumbs and ketchup smears. saved you a bite, read the second note. Flowey noticed the fry was conveniently just a hair out of his reach.

He stretched his roots to find he was contained. Of course-- they took him prisoner. Yet before he could properly seethe, he froze in place and the color drained out his body into the soil.

He had felt this flower pot before. He felt it a long time ago, but not from the inside. He could feel the indents, the lumps, the cracks. Asriel had dropped his own clay pot during the project and Chara let him help finish their own. Just below the rim they both signed it together--

He didn't, Flowey thought, forcing the memory out of his head. "ASGORE!" he called out. "Is this some kind of joke?! Was your sense of humor taken out behind the barn and shot?! What in the hell is your problem?!"

He realized how small his voice was in the big house, far emptier than he remembered it being. The desk, the chair, they were all custom-made for a person of Asgore's stature-- he remembered helping Chara climb into his desk chair once. Now, all he could think about was how far of a drop it was from the top of this desk to the floor.

If he landed just right, maybe he could crack his head open.  

Flowey lashed out and smacked the pie and paper plate off the table for an unsatisfying splat. No response. He stretched as far as he could to try and knock the bowl down, too- that would shatter- but couldn't reach it. Damn that stupid skeleton, as soon as he got free, he...

He...

... wouldn't hesitate to KILL each other if...

...didn't know. Yet another first in a long list that started with "first time being reincarnated" and "first time hating opening his eyes in the morning" and "first time killing another creature." Flowey thought he had everything figured out. That was his trump card, the aggregate knowledge of a thousand resets and the ability to start over if anything went wrong. His ability to know what any monster would say at any given time. This timeline had been an anomaly since the human came back-- variables scrambled, items misplaced, people acting in sappy and strange ways that Flowey physically couldn’t understand.

Without that mountain of knowledge from his resets? He was just a stupid little flower that wasn't meant to exist. Everything else stayed the same when he started over, and everything else would be the same when he died. He was an accident, an extra puzzle piece that didn't seem to fit anywhere. 

For a moment, purely in the analytical mind of someone observing all possibilities of course, nothing more, he considered struggling until the flower pot toppled over and shattered on the ground. It was a moderately long drop to the floor. The funny thing about death was that when others visualized it, they just imagined their vision going black; they woke up with a start from their falling dream or the like. 

Flowey, however, knew exactly what cracking his head open felt like. 

He decided against it, in the end. It was pointless. It wasn't as if he hadn't tried things like that before. He had truly died once; he knew how it felt. Now, every time right before his consciousness slipped into the aether, it sprang back into the world as if on a tether. At first because he wanted to- and then, because he was too afraid not to. 

And so, Flowey should have known long ago that "kill or be killed" included himself as well, long before the human threatened him with a knife.

With no signs of physical aging after what must have been dozens of miserable lifetimes, 'Flowey' wouldn't die any other way.

He closed his eyes for a moment, settling into the flower pot that he-- that Asriel had helped make, and thought about how many times he had tried to kill himself as Flowey before and failed. Man. That idiot doctor didn't know how easy she had it.

Creatures like us wouldn't hesitate to kill each other if we got in each other's way!

(Deep down, he couldn't stand to break something that Chara cared about. He knew he meant the flower pot. He wasn’t sure he counted, now.)

He tried to just calm himself. He hadn't experienced emotions in so long, even the smallest ones caused explosions like split atoms. It made him... angry?

Angry, the feeling he had studied for so long. Asgore declaring war on humanity. Sans punching the dirt and suppressing a scream finding his brother’s remains. Undyne channeling all of her roaring emotion into her attacks that Chara dodged easily to her increasing rage. 

He had felt something like it, kind of: when a person didn’t behave like he thought, when that smiley trashbag caught on to his plans. But in the end, it didn’t matter with his ability to start over. Nothing mattered. There were no consequences. Nothing but numbness. 

He had once let himself be caught, detained, interrogated, beaten, all of it, just for the thrill of feeling consequence for once. But in the end, he didn’t fear for his life. He didn’t feel as if his link to this world were growing thin. Just a simple suggestion to the fabric of time and he was back in the garden of his loving and oblivious father who, a moment ago, a lifetime ago, scowled down at him in disgust. 

He hadn’t truly felt scared for his life- scared at all- since recently. Since he found himself at knifepoint. Since Chara came back. 

This was scientifically impossible-- Asriel was dead. 'Flowey' had no feelings besides the will to live. That was enough to scare him, right? The fear of death? But what about the rage, the panic, the guilt, the embarrassment? What about all that remained with Chara gone and hundreds of unsaid words blocking his throat? 

Hello?

Anyone?

...

How was he supposed to know? He told the truth about who he was so many times and everyone started sobbing, not studying him. That's what he liked about Chara, once they came back. They didn't hug him and tell him it would be okay. They just kept walking on with the same dead-eyed expression of someone who's seen it all just one time too many. They saw. They killed. They moved on. The insatiable focus of someone who staked their life on a plan and kept trying after they lost that.

It had been incredibly validating, Flowey thought. Asgore had started killing humans (oh, the newly-born Flowey had been so upset, but the people Asgore killed weren't humans they were ants and nothing could kill Chara but themself) and was idolized by his kingdom. Toriel had burned him to within an inch of his life a thousand times (a pitiful creature, she didn't need to tell him twice, or the thousandth time! Evil, certainly, but even when he told the truth she just gave him this miserable look, he hated it, he HATED it!)

Flowey had seen so many times that this world was kill or be killed. He liked it. He accepted it.

Until, for the first time in New Home, Chara slowed their pace and finally seemed to notice Flowey. Their eyes pierced through him, his smile begging approval and the childlike excitement in his tone when talking about ending the world that had wronged them. The only thing that could have given him away more would have been white fur. Even if Flowey made it clear who he was, as soon as Chara locked eyes on him, they knew.

And they knew that they wouldn't have to do this if it weren't for them. And in that way, Flowey had killed everyone in a way he regretted for the first time out of all his resets.

Flowey didn't know he had drifted until he heard the door creak. He nearly jumped straight out of the pot- god, he was becoming soft, since when did anything scare him?- and something else went splat on the floor.

Asgore stood in the doorframe holding an empty paper plate. He looked down at the second slice of pie on the floor. "Oh," he said. "I did not mean to startle you. I was going to bring you another slice of the pie in case you were still hungry. I am glad I came along. It looks like you dropped your slice."

Sure, he thought, but how about you get me an actual slice of pie instead of a lump of charcoal from the grill, you goddamn idiot?  

"Yeah. Dropped," he said weakly, instead.

"I willl go get a third slice."

"Save it."

"More for the other plants," he said. Flowey considered the prospect of Asgore eating his own plant food-poisoned pie and dying right then and there. He felt like any other time, it would have made him laugh, because it was just a reset away from unhappening. "Although they do not have mouths. Would you like your tea in your soil, or...?"

"Just... set it down."

"I will set it down."

"That's what I said."

"Okay."

Asgore put a cup of tea down near Flowey. He pulled out a chair and sat with a small teacup in his big hands, blowing away the steam occasionally. He hummed a tune to himself that Flowey had heard so many times before. There were so many things Flowey wanted to say and all of them died in his throat and strangled his voice. How dare this stupid old man make him feel things? It's not like he was his father, not anymore, they were just a pair of murderers--

...wouldn't hesistate to KILL--

"Have you given any more thought to my offer, friend?" asked Flowey.

Asgore took a small cookie out of his pocket- it fit like a coin between his thumb and index finger- and dunked it carefully in the tea, then tapped it on the rim of the cup to shake off an excess drop. "Er... Would you like a bite?"

"No," he said firmly.  

"Oh," Asgore said. He hesitated, then ate the cookie in little bites as if it were normal-sized. "I am not sure what plants like to eat, so I prepared a variety of things for you to try. I hope you will like one of them."

Flowey scowled at him. Asgore looked down into his tea. "My son," he said, "he was somewhat a picky eater, but he had quite a sweet tooth."

He squinted at Asgore. What are you planning? he thought.

After another minute, Asgore spoke up. "So... did you know that you could blow on the tea to make it cooler? Just a small tip from me," he said, smiling. "I have plenty more 'neato', er, 'life's hacks' like that, as kids say."

Flowey nearly slammed his face down into the cup. How had he never gotten the SOULs out of this goober? He struggled to think now, but something about Asgore's presence jumbled his thoughts, dug up old ones that sparked flares of pain in the hollow night sky he called his heart. Maybe Asgore was just pretending to be gentle-- of course, an act, an act! It was all an act like Chara pretending to be that other human or him pretending to be a flower, no he really was a flower Asriel was dead and was his mind racing or was everything this fast?

(Or, had Flowey himself never had the heart to go full force on him, knowing that each reset he just had to wait a minute for Asgore to find and greet him with a smile full of love, even if he didn't know Flowey was his son?)

"Well... It also works to let the tea sit for a good while," Asgore said, as Flowey was silent. He cleared his throat a little. "So! I hope you rested well. We were concerned when you collaps--"

"Do you miss your son?" Flowey demanded.

Asgore blinked. "Ex-excuse me?"

"Don't act like you didn't hear me, old man."

He stared down into his tea, and for a moment Flowey's heart stopped beating, terrified the old man would start crying in front of him. But, to his surprise, Asgore gave a gentle smile. "Yes. I miss him every day with all of my being," he said.

"What about your other child?"

"How do you--"

"I know more than you think and more than you want to hear!" Flowey said. "Now talk!"

When he sighed, the tea in his cup rippled, obscuring his reflection. "I miss them both equally. Some days it feels as if it will tear me apart."

"Yeah? Gee, is it because you really miss them or because you're slaughtering humans like a coward?"

Asgore looked up, startled. "What did you say...?"

"Oh, shut up!" Flowey said. "That's what I hate most about you! You have blood on your hands and you just have to cry about it like a big old baby! So you just sit around half-assing a job in hopes that someone will tell you to stop!

"You could have crossed the barrier with just one SOUL, but you let generations of monsters suffer down here because you were scared! And now you let all this happen and humans are dancing on your child's grave and you're sitting here eating your little cookies dodging my questions like you're completely innocent?!"

There hadn't been this much pain in his eyes when, in so many other timelines, Flowey made friends with him only to try and backstab him at his weakest. He hadn't succeeded, and yet now here was Asgore, nearly dropping his teacup and plate on the floor.

"I wanted to give my people hope," Asgore managed to say, his voice weak. He spoke as if he had practiced this line a million times.

"You just dangled a carrot in front of their faces until most of them got wiped out by what you could have prevented!" he hissed. That was right, it was Asgore's fault this all happened. It was his fault that Chara came back like that. It was his fault that he was still alive as Flowey. It was easier that way. "You idiot! You didn't even know half your kingdom had been obliterated until I found you! I knew you wouldn't absorb the SOULs, that's why the human got so far! So tell me again, old man, and use that little brain of yours to think carefully," he said. "Do you, or do you not, love your children, when their memorials are tarnished, their memories forgotten, and everything they worked on mocked by your miserable self-pity?!"

Flowey didn't know how heavily he was breathing until it was the only sound in the room. Several things happened, then. Asgore, moving as if his body weighed a million pounds, placed his teacup on the desk. He stood on his tired bones as if lifting up something heavier than armor. He took a deep breath, the first Flowey had seen him take since he started the topic.

"I cannot deny that you are right," Asgore said. "All this suffering... their deaths, their continued imprisonment. I carry much of the blame."

He fell silent again, and Flowey nearly thought he fell into a coma before he moved over to a crayon drawing and took it into his hand. He considered it carefully. "I do not know if any of the choices I have made have been correct. I lost my children. I lost my wife," he said. "I do not want to absorb the SOULs. I do not want power."

"Sounds like history's gonna write you off as one horrible king, if any of us survive this!" Flowey said, pretending to smile.

Asgore made a sound almost like a laugh. "I suppose so. It feels as if the only thing I enjoy about it is seeing my people happy." He looked back at Flowey, and Flowey saw all the bags under the king's eyes, the exhaustion in his smile. "After my children passed away, it felt as if I had no time to grieve. The whole kingdom's misery was my own. It was like..." He paused. "It wasn't unlike how the people are now. It felt as if I lost not only my children, but all of monsterkind."

Flowey almost spoke up, but held back. This dialog was... new? Usually when he tried to make Asgore suffer, he refused to open up about it. That's how he always was and how he always would be-- too stuck in the past and terrified to move on.

Right? Chara?

"I was angry, not unlike my father had been. Humans had taken so much away from us until we had nothing left. Then, finally, they took the two most precious things in the world to me. I... I was foolish. I wanted them to feel that pain," he said, his voice wavering. "I wanted them to know the pain of losing a child. I wanted to take from them the way they took from us. But..."

He put down the old crayon drawing and moved over to the wall, brushing the dust off of a picture frame. Flowey stared dully at the macaroni art of a flower that he-- that Asriel had created so long ago.

(If only he knew he'd become one! He would have... laughed... so hard.)

"... I did not consider at the time how much humanity had given us, too," Asgore said. "They gave us Chara, who brought us so much joy and hope. My son, Asriel..." He chuckled a bit more genuinely this time. "He was so shy and timid around everyone, even though everyone wanted to be friends with the young prince! I was so surprised to hear he approached Chara of his own will the first time. They became the best of friends immediately."

Flowey felt as if he were paralyzed. He hated this, he hated Asgore's wallowing in the past and his stupid misery and yet-- it was making him feel something. He felt as if he were so small that he could be crushed, he felt as if he were so far away, he felt as if he could still feel his arms and legs and run through Waterfall with Chara.

"I thought that one of them could never live without the other." Asgore looked at his feet. "I was right."

"Asgore--"

"I will stop," he said. Even with everything bearing down on him, Asgore didn't cry, didn't panic. "I understand if you hate me. In truth, many people should. Failing to act is still a decision, and it is not the one I should have made so many times. I am... sorry."

"H-hey! You don't owe it to me!" Flowey said, tripping over his words. "I mean, it's not like I want... all humans to die!"

He smiled. "You sound just like my son. He defended humanity even when all monsters were throwing darts at drawings of humans. He did so even when Chara themself joined in," he said, "using... knives. Asriel was always so curious. Once, he said to me that he thought the war was a misunderstanding, and--"

"-- if the humans knew how nice you were, they wouldn't have been scared of you," Flowey finished from memory.

"... Yes, like that," he said. "In all honesty... I wanted to believe that too. That it was a misunderstanding. Which would have made my children happiest? To have made humanity pay for their crimes against us, as Chara so agonized over? Or to have forgiven humanity and made my people as happy as possible down here, as Asriel so wished?"

Flowey almost answered, but Asgore spoke up again. "I do not know. All six humans I have killed... I wished I could have had tea and cookies with them like this. They all looked so very tired and lost, as Chara did when Asriel first brought them to me," he said. "... Maybe the human who killed everyone felt that way, too. If only I could have spoken with them..."

"They... would've killed you, idiot," Flowey said. "That's what I said the whole time."

Asgore picked up his teacup. The tea inside had gone cold. "I suppose, then, my choice would have been made for me," he said. "I will leave you be. I am sorry for having spoken for so long."

Flowey opened his mouth to speak and no words came out. Asgore turned and started towards the door. Flowey's mind raced. He couldn't define it logically-- he wanted Asgore to know who he was, he wanted Asgore to know that he hadn't lost all of them. He still wanted to feel angry but somehow he couldn't anymore.

"As for your question," Asgore said, halting, "I am afraid I cannot give you the SOULs, no matter how much of a failure of a king it may make me. I do not feel like any monster should have that power. My son... absorbed my human child's SOUL. As soon as they got to the surface, they were both slaughtered."

"S-so you're just giving up?"

"I did not say I am going back to my old decision of abstaining from making one," Asgore said. "The reason I do not want you to absorb the SOULs is because I do not wish for you to be harmed as well."

It caught Flowey by surprise. He knew he would've used this situation to his advantage in the past, he could have read this like a book, he knew how to play Asgore to do everything except give him the SOULs.  It hardly surprised him that this attempt failed too.

Yet... now he didn't know what the right choice was anymore. It used to have all been so clear without emotions. He could never understand why Asgore still cleaned Chara and Asriel's old room, or why Toriel set out extra plates for dinner even if she was alone. He hadn't cared-- and yet now he recognized that apathy had been his method of avoiding digging up the sadness buried deep under his roots, since he had studied every aspect of every timeline besides.

Silently, Asgore continued to walk away.

"Asgore!" Flowey called out.

Asgore stopped in the doorway. "Yes?"

"That statue in Waterfall, the one that was engraved as a memorial to-- to Asriel?" he said. "Why's it all old and worn out now if you loved him so much?"

He expected Asgore to seem sad, but Flowey saw his ears perk a little as they did when he was happy. "It is worn down because so many people visited it and touched it. Every time I happen by there, I leave more umbrellas for those passing and... It is a bit silly," he said. "I leave one for the statue to hold."

Flowey was silent, lost in thought. The door clicked silently behind Asgore, and once again, he was alone.

Chapter Text

Another day bled into another without any clear indication of day or night. That's just how it was in the Underground; while Snowdin put up a big charade of turning on streetlights and having 'quiet hours' and so on despite the lack of sunlight, Sans had another reason why he never knew the difference between days.  

He had one too many times when a day lasted 25 hours instead of 24; when he woke up from the same nap several consecutive times; when he worked on the same task for hours before realizing he had been working on the same step with his progress undoing itself in front of him. 

Sans always wrote it off as nothing. Weirdness. Laziness. And then, one day, nobody remembered their father ever existed.

He had taken a tent with the rest of the evacuees and felt genuinely surprised when he woke up in the same place. How long would it be until he'd wake up in the judgement hall again with a knife aimed at his SOUL? How long until none of them remembered any of this... 'progress'?

He started to avoid leaving; when anyone recognized him, they asked questions, they apologized 'for his loss', they did any number of things that made it harder to keep up that stupid smile. Papyrus had been the one to do the talking and greet everyone and be likable, but that wasn’t an option anymore. Only every other day or so did Sans wake up and find fresh tea and biscuits left for him without explanation, and only once or twice did he panic thinking that the days were starting over.

It was against his nature to be hopeful about the impossible. And one day, they said the dead were coming back. It apparently wasn't anything happy-- kids crying, adults comforting them while shooting each other confused glances.

Sans didn't care if they came back evil or whatever. It would've been an honor to be killed by his brother. As much as he hated to admit it, he didn’t know how to function without him. As long as he could remember, his life revolved around supporting Papyrus’s accomplishments, being as lazy as he could manage before Papyrus caught him, remembering their father so Papyrus didn’t have to worry. He had ‘friends’ here and there besides the lady behind the door, but their patience mostly ran out when the drinks did. 

That was fine. Don’t let anyone too close and you can’t get hurt. Don’t raise their expectations and you can’t disappoint anyone. 

Deep down, he had wondered what would happen once his and the lady’s jokes ran out. He supposed it was answered for him. 

Another thing answered for him: while he lived day in and day out in this limbo between death and rebirth, the dead did, in fact, return. 

"YO!"

The door to the castle crashed open with a dramatic bang. In rode that lizard kid on the back of a- 'dog' would be technically inaccurate, but he'd seen some things- with several others in tow. Some kind of bird that kept panting and blinking with the same orifice, a creature that couldn't stop shivering (Sans noticed she had been bundled up in bits and pieces of everyone else's clothing), something that the other monsters in the group had started calling 'lemon bread' for some reason.

They only stopped in surprise when a rock went soaring past their heads. Sans sidestepped out of the way as well; behind him stood Bratty, scowling down her snout. "S-stay back! I don't know WHAT these things are or where they came from, but I-- I'm not letting them get us!"

"Oh my god, Bratty, stop!" said Catty, stepping in front of the group of deformed monsters with her arms out protectively. "They were lost out there! I, like, don't know where they came from either, but we can't just leave them out there in danger!"

"Are you... are you blind?!" Bratty snapped. "Just look at that dog! It's got more mouth than body!"

"You've got more mouth than brain!"

Bratty stomped her foot down. Several other monsters had hidden behind her in fear, confusion. "Get them out. NOW."

"H-hey, not to get involved, but weren't you, like, friends?" asked Burgerpants.

"Shut up!" they both snapped at the same time. He backed away, his hands held up defensively.

Sans eyed them all, watching from the sidelines with the rest. He didn't recognize the creatures that they found, but something else was strange about the situation. The human was very thorough. Everyone who didn't make it here was dead-- he could've bet money on it. If everyone else hadn't been dead.

In addition, as a sentry and (someone pretending to be) a friendly guy, he had a passing familiarity with hundreds of types of monsters. These looked like... mashups of them, almost, not any regular creatures he'd seen.

But then again, before these past few weeks, had he ever met a talking flower that spoke first?

"G-guys, we shouldn't fight..." Monster Kid said, stepping forward.

Catty held out a hand. "Let me settle this."

"Oh, shut UP! You still think you're so, like, high and mighty?" Bratty said. "Which one of us suggested digging through Alphys's trash when we found out what she did?"

"It was to figure out why she did it!" Catty shouted. "Didn't you, like, want to know?! Why have we been told nothing? If we knew anything, we'd know why these guys were out there!"

"Why am I the villain for trying to protect us?! Someone didn't want them in here, obviously!" Bratty said.

"NO!" Monster Kid shouted. Everyone turned their head towards them. "Th-this isn't how it's supposed to go! Everyone's s'posed to be cheered up, right! I-it's not the dead coming back to life! It's just these guys, and they want to be friends!"

At this, a handful of butterflies emerged from one of the beasts and flew to Monster Kid. They landed all over them, parched, looking for any drop of blood or sweat or tears or anything to satiate them. They flinched but tried to hold their ground, their eyes misting over but trying to hold a smile--

"Even you're scared of whatever the hell that is!" Bratty said. "Fine! Since King Asgore's not here, I guess we need to vote!" She looked over her shoulder to everyone behind her. "All in favor of kicking those things out?"

The monsters hesitated. A few raised their hands. Sans glanced over at Monster Kid, who looked like the air had been knocked out of them. The dog amalgamate thing had its tail between its many legs.

"You don't understand!" Monster Kid said. "They're our friends! They didn't hurt us!"

"Mostly," Burgerpants mumbled.

"Shut up, Burgerpants!" Bratty and Catty shouted in unison.

A few more monsters raised their hands in the vote. The kid was shaking, but held their head up high.

The last time he saw a kid this ganged up on, it was when everyone in Hotland insisted to a younger Sans they never met a W.D. Gaster. Alone and scared, everyone’s eyes on the delinquent ‘runaways’, Papyrus grabbed Sans’s hand and ran-- 

Sans let out a sigh. Oh boy, he thought. Here we go.

"hey."

A few murmurs broke out in the crowd as Sans stepped in between Bratty and Catty. He hadn't rehearsed a line of what he was going to say, but he spoke quickly, before someone called him the guy with the dead brother again. "can't say i exactly know what's going on here, but..." he said. "i dunno. guess it's not my place to speak up, but i think this isn't the time for monsters to start turning on each other. there's not exactly a lot of us left. are we just gonna shove a few more of us out in the street?"

"What makes you think those are, like, our kind?" Bratty said.

"Maybe, uh... the human had something to do with this?” said a much quieter Nice Cream Guy, from within the crowd. 

"They didn't!" Monster Kid shouted. "They really didn't! You've gotta believe me!"

The crowd looked at one another suspiciously. Sans just let out a chuckle, which only seemed to frustrate Bratty more. "i dunno. what makes a monster a monster? not being human? then nothing would separate us from animals," he said. "stop me if you've heard this one before,  but i've always thought we aren't animals because they kinda stick with their own herd. monsters all stick together, from skeleton to dog with a hole for a face."

"Dude, I want to just sing kumbaya as much as you, alright?!" Bratty snapped. "But like, some of us lost family from monsters being all stupid trusting!"

"Oh my god, Bratty!" said Catty. "I heard, like, his brother died!"

"thanks, i almost forgot," Sans said, his tone dripping animosity. Monsters from both sides gave him a look, quieting for a moment.

"Y-yo," Monster Kid finally spoke up. Catty glared at them, but they continued nervously: "I-- I agree with him. I met the human. I thought for a while that we were... friends."

(Sans felt like this warranted a spittake. He barely looked up.)

Seeing Bratty's stare, they continued on: "B-but I was wrong. They coulda killed me anytime my back was turned. But they waited for the... the 'perfect moment'. That was the only time I saw them look kinda... happy. When they swung their knife at me." They looked to the dog amalgamate, who nuzzled against their cheek. "That human, they were... they were something different. We couldn't all have seen 'em coming. Just because we had them doesn't mean we have to be mean to everything that comes our way now."

"hey," Sans said, grinning as usual. "as least we know those guys aren't human, right? we should be safe."

"I think," Bratty said, going red in the face, "that our vote has already been decide--"

"I-is that you? Darlin'?"

Everyone went silent again as a short monster pushed its way through the crowd. Previously overwhelmed by the others, Snowdrake's father seemed to take the relative gap in hostility to step forward. He stopped before one of the amalgamates, looking up in awe.

"s-snowy--"

"Gods... It's-- it's really you...!" Snowdrake's father stepped forward and tried to embrace his wife, who seemed to try to embrace him back. "I-- I was terrified, I haven't seen Snowdrake anywhere. S-so long-- a-and I felt for so long like we lost you too--"

"s..ssh... " the amalgamate said. It seemed to hurt infinitely for her to speak, yet she did anyway. "i'd... never..... leave you..."

"I'm... I'm so glad... we're all so 'lone here. I wasn't sure what I was gonna do..."

The amalgamate seemed to droop. "afraid.... of... me?"

All eyes fell on Snowdrake's father. He didn't flinch. "No. Every day. I spent every day afraid I wouldn't ever get t' see you again. There isn't nothing that'll scare me more than that."

"... snowy..." the amalgamate said. "... snappy..."

'Snappy' seemed surprised. "N-nobody's called me that for years..."

"...snowy..."

Snowdrake's father looked back at the crowd. Everyone looked at one another, stepping out of the way, looking to see if Snowdrake would come forward. Nobody did.

"It's alright now," said Snowdrake's father. "It's... it's my fault, you know. I was a horrible fathah. If I could've been with'm, he might... be here. But I'm not giving up hope. If you and those others were out there ok... maybe Snowy's out there too."

".... snowy...."

"If anything," he said, glancing back at Bratty, "we should be afraid of divisiveness in our kind. Not what the human did t'us."

Some of the monsters were nodding, now. Bratty was covering her mouth with her hands in awe. Sans couldn't help but find it a bit funny-- what a complete change of attitude.

"sorry to butt in," Sans said, "but i think it's clear this is snowdrake's mother, the one and only. do what you want to her," he said, "but i think she'll only hurt any of us if we lay a finger on her family."

"Or claw, or whatever you've got," said Burgerpants.

"Burgerpants," Bratty and Catty both growled. Their eyes both widened in surprise at speaking in unison again-- then they both burst into a fit of giggling. Monster Kid giggled too, relieved.

"so... for the families that can't reunite," Sans said. The dog amalgamate among others still seemed lost and out of place. "whaddya guys say?"

Bratty looked down at her feet. "I was... like, not cool at all. I just... after what happened..."

"I'M GONNA TAKE THAT GUILT AND SUPLEX IT!" Monster Kid shouted. Everyone looked at them. "Eh heh... er, yo, that's what Undyne would've said. To say it's, um, okay."

"But... everyone," said Snowdrake's father, daring to pull back from his wife for a second. "I'm happier than anyone has any right bein'. Don't get me wrong. But... the last time we saw my wife, she hadn't woken from her coma. Everyone, they all thought she was dead already." he said. "We sent her off to the doctah who asked for monsters like that. And then... poof."

"Alphys," Bratty and Catty said.

The crowd murmured amongst itself. "... sent greater dog's father off too..." "... Aaron's older brother, but he's not with us anymore..." "... haven't seen in years..."

Sans felt as if he'd run a marathon already, playing the hero in Papyrus’s place, but Monster Kid started to worry again as the doubt spread amongst the crowd like a plague. It would be so easy to just lie down and pretend this wasn't happening. To wait for the reset. He couldn't help but feel spiteful. Papyrus hadn't come back with that Snowdrake's mother.

But would spite have stopped him from protecting someone?

"guys, guys," Sans said, quieting the crowd. "think about it. what did all of these people have in common?"

"They were... close t' dying," said Snowdrake's father.

"bingo," Sans said. "what happens when monsters die?"

"They, like, turn to dust," Catty said.

"yep. they lose their physical form," Sans said. "it looks like whatever she tried to do to cure them, it wouldn't work. they started to lose their shape and became unstable, it looks like, but..." He shrugged. "they're awake, yeah? alive, walking, smiling. that's more than a lot of us can ask for right now."

"Yo, d-do you think..." Monster Kid started. "D'you think Dr. Alphys did... y'know. What she did, 'cause of how they turned out?"

"But..." said Snowdrake's father. "T'see my wife again. It was more than I coulda wished for..."

"Alphys..." Bratty said. She and Catty exchanged a glance. "We used to see her all the time, and then she just completely stopped going out, like, at all..."

"Um, if I may!” Nice Cream Guy spoke up again, a little less despairing. “She kept us safe down in that lab she kept calling the 'secret lab'. Maybe they were hiding there first?”

“Maybe she locked them away because she was ashamed of what she did,” said the Snowdin shopkeeper.

"welp," Sans said. "i knew alphys. we... worked on a few projects together. it was a long time ago. she would never have done something like this on purpose." He looked over at the amalgamates, all huddled together nervously. "they also could've been hiding down there on their own in fear that we'd reject them. y'know. the way we did."

The monsters looked guilty, this time. Snowdrake’s father stood protectively in front of his wife. A small white dog had appeared from the crowd and was sniffing at the bigger dog playfully.

"Wherever the doctah is now. I hope she knows how thankful I am," said Snowdrake's father.

"Yeah..." Catty said. Bratty added: "It would've been cool to have seen her one last time."

"Did she do it because of us?" said the Snowdin innkeeper, seemingly ashamed of the vote to kick out the amalgamates. "Did she know how we'd act?"

"... i think it's fair to say we're under some stressful and unusual circumstances," Sans said. "she couldn't have known this would happen and we'd end up so high strung."

"But, dude, even if she... she felt like that, she still saved all of us," Monster Kid said. "That's just as heroic as what Undyne did."

"Yeah!" "Wherever you are, you big dork, thank you!" Bratty and Catty said.

"Thank you, Dr. Alphys!" Monster Kid called out.

Waves of gratitude spread among the crowd faster than the anger and confusion had, Sans thought, as the room became filled with 'thank you's and well wishes. He slipped out of the confusion during the commotion. There had been no memorial service for Alphys yet, and he might've had more to say than any of them-- but all the more reason not to go put himself in the spotlight more. He was better suited to jokes than sentiment. 

He had always been the type of person to mourn quietly, anyway.

"Yo, wait up!"

Monster Kid tripped over their own feet trying to chase Sans. He stepped back and helped them up in a familiar way. "there ya go," he said, putting on a smile. "what's up, kiddo?"

"I, um, just wanted to say thanks for helping!" Monster Kid said, beaming. Oh no. Sans knew that look. It was the hero-worshipping stare that Sans had so often looked up to Papyrus with.

He chuckled, looking away. "it was nothing."

"You're, like, so cool!" Monster Kid said. "What's your name?"

"sans. sans the skeleton."

"Cool!" Monster Kid said. "Yo, weren't you the one just standing in that big hallway with those crazy windows? Were you waiting for someone? Didn't King Asgore wanna talk to you?" They had started walking with Sans as he made his way back to his quarters.

"sorry, kid," he said, tiredness betraying him. Usually being the center of attention didn't wear him out so much- he had friends all over Grillby's, once- but lately he felt as if he'd melt into an amalgamate just from the pressure of continuing on. "i've got a one-question daily limit per person."  

"Can I get an advance on tomorrow?"

"that counted as your question,” he said, winking. 

"Okay, okay!" Monster Kid said. "For real this time! Why'd you help out? None of them were your family, right?"

"... nah," Sans said. "it was the right thing to do. and besides--" He paused, the words halting right at the tip of his tongue, Monster Kid waiting with bated breath. "... you kind of remind me of my brother."

Chapter Text

And somehow, another week slipped through his fingers like dust. Day in, day out, Sans caught golden petals at the corner of his eye but never at second glance. He felt the presence of someone watching, but had felt that type of paranoia since their father vanished-- his terror that the 'anomaly' could come take him next (and then, his disappointment that it hadn't yet).

So continued on the skeleton and the flower, both thinking themselves too far apart to talk, yet both just waiting for it all to be reset.

One day, without a word, Asgore had freed Flowey from the pot and placed him back outside. It happened while Flowey was sleeping (he dreamed of being carried, he dreamed of being put down in a bed of flowers-- he stopped short at the part where the villagers attacked them); he awoke and was back in the ground, his roots free. The empty flower pot sat next to him.

At first, he had been angry. Asgore just kicked him out? Abandoned him out here without a goodbye?

Then he discovered the rest of the plant-food pie, wrapped up nicely for the road. He saw through the clumsy plastic wrap that the top was decorated to look like a smile.

Flowey had forced himself to look away after several minutes of staring. What an empty gesture, he thought, the old man just giving him his trash as if he were a child. It was almost like he cared, almost like he knew the truth of 'Flowey's identity-- no, no of course not.

But-- why? What had he done to deserve it? What had he done to Asgore besides be angry and abhorrent?

He laid low, observing from afar as he had so many runs before. After a time, the monsters that had survived emerged from the castle in a group led by Asgore and Gerson. Despite the duo's usual cheerful demeanor, they both looked serious, their eyes alert and scanning the area. Flowey had never been seen while watching others, and yet he found himself ducking out of sight whenever he heard the group coming, not surfacing until long after they had passed.

The oddest thing was that it looked like no tragedy had happened at all. The human had rarely stopped to loot or pillage; they had no use for anything they couldn't kill or use to kill. Hotland and Waterfall for the most part looked as if daily life had come to a halt and everyone had simply vanished. Meals sat half-eaten, TV screens on (only static now), doors open, guard posts cluttered with weapons and personal items, books dog-eared as if their owners would come back and pick them up any minute now.

Despite the regularity of it all, monsters still stopped occasionally to look sadly at one useless object or another, but never long enough for the group to leave them behind. Flowey couldn't understand why anyone would care about so-and-so's last sandwich or John Doe's moldy sock; they were dead, gone, and their garbage only cluttered the Underground.

Flowey had never once in his life engaged in sentimental activities such as mourning a grave, wrapping up neatly a late person's personal items in their room, waiting for them to come back every day.

...

The snow in Snowdin had piled up with nobody to keep it under control. Asgore summoned a flame in his hand and used its heat to clear the way. Some monsters returned to their homes, some looked around for the first time.

Gerson went further out; Flowey watched him survey each of the guard posts and report back to Asgore about something. He stayed too far out of range to hear their conversation, but saw that Asgore nodded his head.

Not an hour later, an assortment of monsters stood before the old men in makeshift armor, Monster Kid even wearing a little helmet. Flowey listened to the cadence of Gerson's voice as he lectured on about something, occasionally punctuating his point by slamming his old hammer into the snow.

From afar, he heard as Asgore as well. He seemed to be going from house to house, apparently helping monsters settle in. And for a moment, Flowey had this overwhelming feeling of being home-- the rhythmical sound of voices and Asgore's steady tone as he did his work and a sense of connection between monsters.

For a single aching moment he had the desire to be a part of them again, a desire he expressed formerly by befriending them all and then by tormenting them all. He doused the feeling like a spark in his missing heart-- stupid, he thought. Sappy sentimental crybaby idiot.

He continued to berate himself for a little longer than he needed to, as if it was familiar to him. People like him (creatures like us), he thought, didn't get second chances, they didn't  get to be happy, they didn't get to see their siblings again.

Speaking of siblings, he spotted a skeleton heading towards the hotel. Couldn't even go back to your house? Flowey thought. Pathetic.

Why would someone feel unwelcome at their own home?

He had spent timelines trying to urge Sans to kill, to gain LOVE. It had proved a fun experiment for a while. "How will Papyrus feel when you get yourself killed?" he had said. "1 HP is awfully low. Even sneezing too hard could kill you!"

"i, uh, don't have lungs or a nose. i think i'm good," Sans had said. Little did Flowey know that he had thought of the same situation himself.

Flowey had planned to say that Sans didn't care about Papyrus like he as Flowey did. He had his speech all lined up. The words slipped out.

"Gosh, friend! Sounds like you don't care enough about him," he had said. "You should care! You need to care with your whole stupid heart because-- because you don't know when it's going to be over. He's going to spend the rest of his life wondering what he did wrong, why you didn't care enough to try and stay alive, why you had to punish him like... this..."

If he had learned anything from that embarrassment, it was that deep down, he realized after his thousandth time living through the same timeline to see if anything would change that he was also a set of variables. Say this, he'd react like that. Do this, he'd do that. It had comforted Flowey to think he was in charge of the game, that he created the rules. But he was becoming quickly and painfully aware that there are only so many ways one can play chess.

They weren't like that. They had shaped up his stupid lonely life since they fell. Chara, the one with the red SOUL. Chara, whose determination overpowered his.

"Chara," said Flowey, quietly. "Why did you come back?"

No response-- of course. He sat atop a hill, his eyes glazing as he watched the again lively town.

"But I'm human," Chara had said said, as if it were an insult.  

"Doesn't matter! Some of 'em might be scared, but once they see how nice you are, they'll all love you!"

Flowey closed his eyes. Once, he had waited hours once for Chara to come out of their hiding place and play with him again. Once, he had waited years.

"And why won't you do it again?"

---

He woke up on the third try. He actually got out of bed on the fifth or sixth. It's not like there was any reason to.

Sans had paid the hotel owner to not tell anyone who was renting out the room. He wasn't sure if anyone had actually asked or not- after that little display in the castle, he couldn't be too sure- but it had settled his mind enough to sleep.

Consequentially, it meant he didn't have enough money to stay another full night. It was fine. Truth be told, he wasn't expecting all three days to actually happen. The longer the human went without coming back, the more convinced he became that they were only biding their time until he let his guard down.

(wouldn't they be surprised when they found out sans never relaxed; even in his dreams he watched that hallway, waking up as tired as if he had stood there the whole time.)

"C'mon, c'mon!" said Monster Kid, bouncing on the bed. Their helmet rattled on their head, just a bit too large for them, with each jump. Sans had gotten up and put his feet on the floor. "We've gotta get moving!"

Sans didn't say anything. The room span wide circles around him; putting his feet on the floor only span his mind around, too. A sharp ache pierced his head, which was a fine contrast to the dull ache permeating his body.

Up and at 'em, he thought to himself, standing up. He balanced with one hand on the wall. He hadn't exactly gotten out of bed in the three days he'd been here-- not to eat, which might've caused his weakness, and not to bathe, as evidenced by Monster Kid wrinkling their nose a little as they spoke.

"-- and the hotel owner called me and said you've missed the last days payment and she doesn't do tabs," Monster Kid said in an official tone. They broke their demeanor with an awkward cough. "Um... sorry about that, dude."

He had been too busy trying to catch his breath from the simple action that he hadn't heard half of what Monster Kid said. He'd heard enough to know he was being kicked out, though. Around the second day, Sans had decided he wouldn't get up until they physically threw him out. And yet--

"SANS! WAKE UP ALREADY, YOU LAZYBONES!"

"-- and so I patrolled three times, which was four more than I was supposed to--" Monster Kid grinned. "'Cause I have the day off and I did one extra yesterday too, but we can't be safe enough, and--"

For a moment, Sans even managed to smile. It was enough to make him forget he had been wondering if all this waiting and worrying was his purgatory, if this was the human's own "special attack", if he should end this nightmare himself if they wouldn't.

His stomach growled, snapping him out of his  thoughts. Monster Kid skidded to a halt with one sentence and started another without so much as taking a new breath. "Yo, have you eaten at all?"

"you bet," Sans said. "just had my second helping of breakfast before you came here."

"Did not!" Monster Kid said. The rest of the hotel room stood immaculate besides the bed. "Lying to a guardsman is a offense against the crown!"

"okay, okay," Sans said, suddenly thinking of all the times he told Papyrus that he was fine.

"What was the last day you ate?" Monster Kid asked, worry creeping into their tone.

"when's the last day you spoke to me?"

Monster Kid stopped to think, counting on their toes. "Thursday," they said.

"you got your answer."

Their eyes widened in shock. "DUDE! That's, like, forever ago! What're you thinking?!"

"aw, shucks, you're worried about me?" Sans said. "i oughta ask you the same thing."

"What d'you mean?"

"just hanging around with a strange man nobody else likes--"

"That's not true!" they said. "Besides strange! Everyone else likes you!" They stood up a little straighter. "A royal guardsman lying is also an offense against the crown!"

("hey, paps, do you remember our dad?"

He almost answered immediately, then stopped-- strained. Thinking hard. "... I.. I'M SORRY... BUT WHO ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?")

"Besides, we're friends, man!" Monster Kid said. "You helped me out a lot back there! I bet we all woulda never moved out of the castle if it wasn't for you!"

"it was nothing," he said again.

Monster Kid seemed to be about to speak, then stopped, then started again, then stopped again as if unsure how to approach the situation. He could see it in their eyes that they really did want to help, even if they ended every conversation with asking the same questions about the judgement hall and King Asgore again. Sans didn't have the heart yet to tell them he was beyond fixing.

"Yo, so like..." Monster Kid said. "Gerson said I need to keep up with my training to move up from just a a junior member of the royal guard. D'you know any fighting techniques?"

"oh, one or two."

"Awesome! We'll train in that big field behind Grillby's!"

He chuckled. He hadn't exactly agreed, but-- where else did he have to go? "the one where he leaves out pizza boxes of whole pizzas people didn't want because their order wasn't right?"

There was a twinkle in Monster Kid's eye. "That one? I hadn't noticed."

Sans leaned back against a wall, closing his eyes, letting himself drift for a moment.

"you know," he said, "you are one special kid."

"It's nothing," Monster Kid said, dropping their voice deep to mimic Sans.

"heh. keep it up and you might wind up as good a sentry as i was," he said.

"Woah! You were a sentry?!"

"among other things," he said. "best thing about being kept in a post watching an area? no patrol."

"But dude, patrol's the best part!" Monster Kid said. "I can say hi to everyone then!"

"keep that up, and you might end up make as great a royal guardsman as my brother was," Sans said, unable to hold back a smile. "and that's saying something."

Monster Kid puffed out their chest. "C'mon, I'm not gonna get any better by just standing around!"

"you got it," Sans said. "i'll treat you to some fries at grillby's. i'm sure there's a blank spot on my tab just waiting to be filled up." He guessed there had been for a while now.

"Um..." Monster Kid shuffled their feet. "Okay, imagine someone already ordered a pizza with toppings nobody else was gonna take and left it out back to make SURE there'd be one there."

"i'm picturing it now," Sans said. "but who wouldn't snatch up a free pizza?"

"Imagine that this person did some digging and found out that a certain other person's favorite topping was ketchup and fries."

"that person," Sans said, "would be one very knowledgeable royal guardsman."

"Who said royal guardsman?" Monster Kid said.

"not me. let's go," he said. "it's a perfect morning for some lunch."

Chapter Text

The cold dug underneath their coats and burrowed beneath their skin. The workers were only volunteers, but after what happened, nobody was going to hesitate on preventative safety measures.

A few times the workers came back from a break to find that half the bricks they'd settled in their wall had been removed and flung around. They would have blamed strong wind or an unstable foundation, but every so often, the bricks were laid out in a pattern that resembled a winking face.

This was the most tame entertainment Flowey'd had in ages- where were the sinkholes, the avalanches, the bricks mysteriously falling on someone's head?- but he had to do something to distract himself from how boring everything had become. The New Royal Guard patrolled day in and day out, building their wall, checking everyone who came and left New Snowdin (Asgore remained as bold as ever with names in this timeline, Flowey noticed).

They even checked monsters who obviously weren't human, like Catty or Pyrope. As if Chara would have skinned her and worn her pelt or set themself on fire. Flowey would be lying if he said he hadn't tried both those things for himself, the latter many times more than the former.

Several surviving Woshua had cleaned the mess left by the human and helped clean homes that had been abandoned in a hurry for new residents to move in. The amalgamate nicknamed 'Reaper Bird' had taken to leading herds of Astigmatism and Loox on long searches around, digging up lost items buried in the snow, searching for any survivors that hadn't been evacuated in time. A group of small dogs happily accepted Endogeny into their pack and had taken to sniffing out any signs of the human still being alive- (this group, Flowey hadn't bothered)- to no avail.

After a short time, the ice wolf took up his old post throwing ice and cooling the CORE and the lights came back on. Gradually, less people stayed boarded up in their houses at night and walked the streets without running in a panic.

Gradually, they forgot about Chara and Asriel again, Flowey thought. Gradually, they bore for history to repeat itself. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't thought about finishing the job for Chara a few times. Maybe then this punishment could end. Sometimes Chara didn't say what they wanted outright. Sometimes, Chara didn’t say anything, especially recently. 

He supposed he stopped himself because the thought of having nothing in the Underground besides his thoughts seemed like the only punishment worse than living with all of them.

Most of the monsters weren't accustomed to living in the cold climate of Snowdin, but monsterkind had become too small to spread throughout the whole Underground, and doing so would leave them with far less defense than if they remained in one area. Every so often he gave them a little scare, but it wasn't worth it-- he wasn't sure to what extent Asgore would tolerate it before he remembered the only creature not accounted for was the flower.

He was in the middle of throwing rocks at the new greenhouse- farming, did they really think they had long-term chances- when he felt a tap on the back.

"heya."

He didn't turn around; he didn't put on a smile; he didn't ask Sans if he was on his way to the dump to throw himself out. He just stared at their reflections in the glass. "Howdy," he said, dryly. "Sure is nice seeing you again."

"right back at you," Sans said. Flowey saw, in the reflection, that the skeleton had the same shit-eating grin as ever. "completed any good puzzles lately?"

"You want me to say 'ask your brother', don't you?" Flowey sighed. "This is too easy. I'll say it, and then you'll just smile as always and maybe then attack me. Even if this is an area with witnesses, you wouldn't hesitate because you already think of yourself as a scummy being and have nobody else's name to soil anymore, therefore leaving you with no sense of consequence. Am I correct?"

It was so. Easy.

That, of course, seemed to catch him off guard. Sans shifted a little on his feet, then settled down again, a dim light in his eyes. "smart guy. pretty good at reading people, but not enough to avoid working with the human, though, huh?"

"Not smart enough to die when it was time to," Flowey said. "Same as you."

They stared at the greenhouse together, not even looking at one another's reflection-- just staring straight onward as if the other wasn't there.

"i'm not a big believer in fate, but since i'm standing here, i don't think i'm supposed to be dead," Sans said, finally. "the morgue isn't calling me saying i missed my appointment."

"Don't you think you should be dead?" Flowey asked, his voice betraying his sincerity. "Why do you want to live without your brother? Why do you want to live in this hellhole where everyone's holding their breath?"

Sans had a strange look on his face, as if he could tell this was hitting far too close to home for Flowey. He shifted gears; he gestured at New Snowdin, the lights turning on in homes as the quiet hours approached, the patrols, the greenhouse. "Take a look, funny guy. You're standing in the middle of the biggest joke in the world. When the human comes back, all this comes crashing down."

Flowey heard Sans kick a little snow with his foot. "well. better this than nothing. 'least we still have grillby's and ketchup."

Flowey didn't say anything, having turned his stare at the ground. He wondered if Sans had calculated that comment, knowing the combination of his ignorant nihilism and the complete lack of thought before his response would be just right for infuriating him.

"so... not curious at all why i'm accusing you of working with the human?" Sans said, after a minute.

Flowey barked out a laugh. "Wasn't it obvious?"

"you showed up, had a panic attack, got angry. can't say that's normal, but it's not like anything's really normal these days," Sans said. "nope. i asked you if you've done any good puzzles lately because all the ones guarding snowdin have been activated by vines."

He rolled his eyes. "And what would've stopped me from having done that 10 minutes ago, junior detective?"

To his surprise, Sans sat down in the snow next to him, as if they were friends. "it was under some layers of snow. you could've buried 'em, but... call it a hunch," he said. "y'know, something about having failed the human twice or whatever you said."

There had been so many timelines when Papyrus would just call him 'Mr. Flower' and Flowey would realize he hadn't introduced himself yet, or timelines when he forgot someone had already died and hadn't come back yet because he hadn't Reset-- that kind of thing. This time, he felt surprised remembering he had said that. He had lived starting over again and again that the feeling of permanence was alien.

"so..." Sans said. He sounded casual as ever, but Flowey could tell he was uncomfortable. He was drawing out his words more than he usually did, a clear sign that he was actually putting thought into what he was saying.

What confused Flowey was that this had only started within the past few minutes, as if he were conflicted. He had approached seeming as if he just wanted to talk.

But, of course, Flowey was slipping. He didn't recognize his toys so well in this new environment. And Sans had probably gotten more shrewd with LOVE under his belt.

"here's another question for you. what's stopping me from handing down justice for what you did?"

"If you're going to kill me, just get it over with."

The only voice in New Snowdin then was the settling of the houses, the flickering of the streetlights, the running water attaching it to Waterfall. Flowey became hypersensitive to every noise, flinching the slightest bit when Sans kicked the snow or when a door slammed shut or when a human cut him open like a doll-- not the last one, no, not yet, he thought, taking a shaky breath.

"Please," Flowey said.

Finally, Sans scratched his chin. "eh. nah."

"Alright," Flowey said, exhaling. "You sure were quick to turn me blue earlier, though, Mr. Pacifist."

"that was then. this is now," he said. "besides. i guess you're like me. to you, death isn't an end to all happiness. it's an end to all suffering."

Once, Flowey thought that's all he was-- a little flower with a will to live. The first time he tried to end it, he thought: was that all he wanted to be? Just a regular flower? Just an accident? Or did he want to grasp this second chance with everything he had and prove to Chara that, when the time came, his stupidity wouldn't get them killed again?

Of course, after his punishment had ended, it was Chara who did all the work again and his stupidity that ruined everything again. It was he who questioned Chara again. It was he who had learned nothing.

"i'm not threatening you with death, kiddo," Sans said. "i'm asking what's stopping me from telling asgore what you did?"

And Flowey's body went completely rigid. Every instinct he had screamed to silence him. It wouldn't be the first time Asgore realized he was a horrible person, no-- he had already screamed at Asgore, yes-- the man had already kicked him out of his house, yes-- Why did he care? What did it matter?

How did Sans know it would matter?

(Of course. This is why he failed his test. This is why he deserved to live in this nightmare, suicide being too good for him. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t view the Dreemurrs completely as strangers.) 

He turned his head the slightest bit. Sans was looking at him. He was smiling as always. Flowey looked down. Then he looked up at him again. Still had that smile.

"W-what do I care?" he genuinely asked, cognitive dissonance running rampant.

Sans shrugged. "nothing personally, i'm sure. you only ran an errand for the guy. but since he's the highest authority, i figure he's the guy who should know."

So he didn't know. Or he was covering that he did. Never reveal your whole hand! Of course, of course. Or he was bluffing that he knew something more than he did when he really knew nothing--

"He won't do anything. We already spoke," Flowey said, cutting off his own thoughts.

"you sure tensed up a lot for a guy who came clean about his sins," Sans said.

Damn it.

He turned his head fully now, trying to scrutinize his every action. He hated that about Sans-- he was difficult to read. It was either that he cared too much or not at all. Or, Flowey couldn't tell if he never had a plan or if he was perfect at keeping it secret. Sans was the best at faking smiles besides himself.

"You wouldn't," he said, finally.  

"why not?" Sans asked. "the worst you could do is kill my brother, and it's already happened. his dust is already on your hands. or, well, petals."

Even looking away, Flowey felt those dim pencil-thin lights from his eye sockets piercing into his mind. Flowey had already shown weakness to Sans. He had already shown fear.

(Why did he care? What did he care what that big old oaf thought? Why? WHY?)

"you're not going to kill me, either," Sans said. "you've had your chances. even if you tried--"

He felt the lights dim, too, and that chilled Flowey more than the stare had.

"-- i killed the human."

chara died chara died again because of me chara died died died DIed  DIED the thoughts swarmed him until he couldn't see anything else; he closed his eyes tighter for a moment and then opened them again to his warped reflection- Flowey's reflection- in the greenhouse glass.

"Because," Flowey said, struggling to keep his voice even, "you didn't kill them. If you did, there would've been a corpse. Not to mention even an idiot like you could've taken their SOUL and crossed the barrier with it."

"what if i'm not really a barrier-crossing type of guy?" Sans said. "it's never been a big deal to me. what's waiting for us on the other side? another human that will pick off the rest of us? a million of them?"

"I'm sure if you think real hard, you could think of other uses for a SOUL that strong," Flowey said. "Maybe you could bring Papyrus back."

(Of course he knew this was impossible-- a weak bluff. He felt as if he were speaking to Sans from the opposite end of a tunnel, hoping his words would come out the other end stronger and less scared.)

"so you can torment him more," he said. "so you or your next human buddy can kill him."

"There won't be anoth-- I didn't torment him!" Flowey snapped, changing direction so fast he wasn't sure which was more important, protecting his feelings or protecting his lies. "All I did was just tell him how great he was, same as you!"

"you sure didn't do much to stop him from dying if you cared so much."

"It wasn't my idea! It was theirs! I-- I didn't like their plan at first! I didn't want this!"

"then how did you fail them twice?"

"I don't know! I don't know how I keep messing up for them!" He was shouting now. He didn't know when he started; he didn't know when the world started spinning and the air went thin and his sense of time looped around him like a noose, the knot of which was tied by his own stupid repeated failures and mistakes. "I don't know about any of this! I don't know if this goddamn nightmare is real! I don't know if I'm even alive or if this is all just some kind of hell that keeps starting over that I can't escape from until I prove myself, not that there's anything to prove since I'm a stupid piece of shit,  I don't know!"

He felt Sans's stare move away. The skeleton sighed-- Flowey sensed he relaxed a little, but still was tense.

"hey. kid.” The words came from afar, in another world that Flowey wished he could wipe away. 

Flowey said nothing, trembling. He had curled up into himself. He hated showing weakness. He hated being vulnerable for people to look down upon. "You need to be stronger than that!" he heard as a hiss in his mind, as well as: "Poor little one... I've never seen a flower cry before." 

"look..." Sans seemed to be clenching his teeth, balling and unballing his fist. Flowey flinched at the motion- not that they ever hit him, though they should have, after a while Flowey experimented hurting himself for them- and Sans stopped, embarrassed. "for a long time, i've been looking for an anomaly. something that shouldn't exist."

It would've been easy to make fun of that line. Flowey stayed silent, his body punctured by pins and needles. He felt far away, under the blankets, crying soundlessly as he waited for his only friend to die.

"do you ever feel like you've seen it all before?" he asked. "like life just repeats over and over again like a broken record? an endless deja vu?"

Buddy, Flowey thought, you don't even know the half of it.

He could feel himself in a bed of golden flowers with a world of possibilities ahead of him-- mocking him, taunting him. He resented them all for the same stupid dialog, the actions they didn't know they had taken a million times in the same way, the fact that he knew them so well he could simply close his eyes and play out scenarios in his mind when his voice felt too small to use anymore.

Papyrus, he hated Papyrus, that idiot who kept throwing little nuggets of forgiveness into the inky void that was Flowey's SOUL. How condescending was it that he thought he had enough love to fill that? How infuriating was it that he forgave Flowey for murdering him as only his skull and a pile of broken bones remained?

How annoying was it that he unknowingly kept trying to make Flowey feel love when he had given up on it a long time ago?

But Flowey kept going anyway, slicing himself a little further open on the edge of time again and again in hopes that enough of his shed dust would add up to a whole Chara. That, when he could be a good brother, they would come back for him.

"... didn't you feel it? as the human kept dying." He was talking still, as if Flowey cared. "just a little tug on the fabric of the world, yanking it just a little bit backward. as if you saw the hands on the clock tick backwards."

He was too exhausted suddenly to analyze every possible tactic and tell. He just decided to approach with caution. "... What if I did?"

"the last time i, uh, did what i had to do, it felt kinda like everything flipped upside down. it still feels like that. something's still just off about the world," Sans said. "at first, i thought that the anomaly was gone. it's all over.

"... but then i realized," Sans said. "it feels as if we're in one of those tugs on the world's fabric. it's not that time's moving backwards or that i've seen any of this happen. it's like... i dunno. like something still has its grip on this world."

"I feel--" And he stopped short of explaining the ability to load, to save.

Near the end of their life, Chara used this type of tactic, whether they knew it or not. The fluctuations between anger and happiness. The pull of Asriel on a pendulum until he wasn't sure if he controlled his own emotions or not. 

It wasn't intentional, he was sure. The whole time he knew Chara, they were an amazing sibling. Friendly. Silly. They were the sibling that would sneak chocolate bars out of the kitchen and encourage Asriel to eat one, but never blamed their bad deed on him.

They changed. They became bitter. They went from talking about their hatred for humanity only once every so often to constantly-- and Asriel didn't doubt that they included themself with 'humanity'. 

They knew one of them had to die. Chara could take Asriel's boss monster SOUL and cross the barrier or Asriel could take Chara's human SOUL. Chara had insisted that they be the one to die. They said they owed it to Asriel and their family. They said they wanted it to be this way. They said Asriel had a future and they never did. 

Now, in this stupid town in this stupid timeline with this stupid skeleton, for the first time, Flowey wondered if Chara had chosen to die- and die so painfully- in order to suffer, in order to make sure Asriel would go through with the plan. 

No, Flowey thought. Boss monster SOULs couldn't control a human, but Chara's human SOUL had 50-50 control when Asriel absorbed it. If Chara wanted his complete submission, they would have let him die.

Creatures like us

But then why would they try to kill him later on, anyway? Why weren't they impressed by how much he had grown? 

wouldn't hesitate

Flowey inhaled slowly. He exhaled. It was harder than he remembered to play with these toys, these people. He used to know exactly how to press their buttons and get the responses he desired--

TO KILL each other if

--just like was done to him. 

"... I... I feel it too," he said. This was just an experiment. This was just a test. "Something isn't right."

"interesting," Sans said. His expression was unreadable for as long as Flowey dared look over. He was still shaking. He had never been exactly scared of smiley trashbag before-- but he had never been this vulnerable before, either. "i appreciate it. one more question for ya."

"Might as well."

"have you ever heard of a man named w.d. gaster?"

It felt like a large pin was pushing slowly into the base of Flowey's head, skewering every other thought. He had read every book. He had burned every book. He had spoken to everyone. He had ignored everyone. Everything this world had to offer- so he had thought- and he had never heard the name.

"No," Flowey said. His head was throbbing now. "Who is that?"

For an eternity, Sans just studied his face. Then he stood up, dusting off his jacket. "who knows?" he said. "that's all i wanna know. see you."

"Hey!" Flowey said. "You can't just walk away after that!"

"here i go," he said, starting to walk.

"Are you going to-- are you going to tell him?" he blurted out. The idea of someone with power over him that he couldn't just Reset away terrified him. He had been that helpless once before and he died on the surface because of it.

Sans stopped. He glanced over his shoulder.

"nope," he said.

"But... I can't understand," Flowey said. "After all that, why?"

"i don't really know, myself," he said.

(That was different from Chara. Chara always knew.)

"Th-that's it?!"

"yeah. you've been judged or whatever." He held his stare for a moment. "but who am i to say what's right or wrong? i'm just some guy among loads who lost family. someone who's killed. someone who's been hurt. just like the rest of us."

He faced forward and strolled away, then, leaving Flowey in the snow.

Chapter Text

"So let me get this straight," Catty said.

"You were there the whole time," Bratty said.

Napstablook shifted uncomfortably. "um........ everyone was kind of gone... and then i saw everyone there in the castle... so i came over..." They looked down at the ground. "but then everyone got up and left... so i waited for you guys to come back..."

They were near the shop. They had seen some kind of motion that was scaring the patrons, but when Bratty and Catty (with Burgerpants in tow) checked, the ghost seemed more scared of everything than anything could be of them. 

(In fact, they almost stepped on them, laying down in the snow allegedly ‘feeling like garbage’.) 

"So you didn't hear any of the big speech about resettling this dump?" Burgerpants asked.

"... oh......" they said. "well... there was a song stuck in my head and it was at a good part... so i tuned him out for a while... and then all the lights turned off... and i laid down on the floor and pretended to be dead..."

Catty and Bratty exchanged a look at the last part.

"Is someone gonna... tell 'em?" Burgerpants said.

Catty ignored him. "How did you, like, find us here?"

"i... uh... had to go to the bathroom... but i got lost..."

"Right. So you ended up completely across the Underground," Burgerpants said.

It was true, also-- the shop was right at the edge of Snowdin, the first thing one would encounter when entering from the east, when they found the ghost. They were sending out vibes that shouted 'please do not speak to me', so naturally, Catty and Bratty spoke to them.

"... oh..... i sounded stupid again..." Napstablook said. "... sorry... i'll go..."

They floated away and hid behind a streetlight, most of their translucent body still clearly visible.

Burgerpants stepped up to them, unsure if this was an elaborate prank or not. "Y'know that we can, uh, still see you there. Buddy. Pal."

Napstablook pretended not to be there. Burgerpants coughed. A light flickered in and out. Beads of ghostly sweat fell into the snow.

"um..................... you guys can still see me, can't you..."

"What tipped you off?"  Burgerpants asked.

"o h. . . . . . . . . . . . . . ."

"Hey now, chill out and stuff!" Bratty offered. "You said that everyone was kinda... gone? And then you found us at the castle?"

"So you weren't evacuated," Catty said. "But, like... how? The human..."

"technically i.... can't be killed........."

"Didja do anything to try and stop them, then, o' immortal one?" Burgerpants asked.

".... no....." they said. "... they looked like they were having a good time killing everyone...... and i thought it would be rude since they couldn't kill me... so i left."

"So... nothing," Burgerpants said. "You didn't even try."

"Quit picking on them!" Catty snapped.

Bratty snorted. "Yeah, Burgerpants. I'm pretty sure one of those burgers you had in your pants was just a piece of cardboard that said 'burge' on it, so don't even, like, talk to us about trying."

"... nobody's ever stood up for me before... thank you so much..." Napstablook said, as Burgerpants slumped.

"No problem, little dude!" Catty said. "We're just glad you made it out aliv-- uh."

"Unharmed," Bratty said.

Napstablook came close to something like a smile, but then it drooped again. "... it's more than i can say for my cousins..."

"There's more like you?"

"Here I was thinking you all couldn't be killed," Burgerpants said, a bit more quietly this time.

"... they became corporeal, which is... how," Napstablook said. "even with that... human-eradicating form, i knew..."

"Did you say... human-eradicating?" Bratty asked.

"Like... Mettaton?" Catty asked, thinking back to his last stand.

(Little did they know at the time that Alphys knew it would happen. Long before they started calling out for her and saying she was 'missing it' had she stood up taller than she ever had and said she had something to do.)

"...oh... i said too much..." Napstablook said. "...oh... but they're both gone anyway... so i guess it doesn't matter if... the secret's out......."

"But... I thought Mettaton was a robot with a SOUL that, like, Alphys made," Catty said. The sadness in Napstablook's voice weathered Catty and Bratty's enthusiasm for all things Mettaton.  The mention of Alphys didn't help their mood, either; the memorial had been just days prior.

"i..." Napstablook blinked. Some kind of ghostly tears were welling up in their eyes. "... i didn't know that's what he said... i guess he didn't..... want to be associated with me after all..."

Burgerpants started to roll his eyes. Catty elbowed him in the ribs.

"Y-yeah, uh, of course not, buddy," Burgerpants said, putting on his Customer Service Smile. "Who wouldn't want to be friends with a friend as sparkly and amazing as you, friend?"

"Yeah!" the girls said in unison. Bratty added: "We didn't know why Alphys suddenly vanished, but she like, really wanted that royal scientist job."

"And your cousin, like, really wanted that totally hot body."

"Catty!"

"I'm joking!" Catty said. "... Kinda. So they must've told a little fib to Asgore together."

"It's not like it's too hard to get past him," Bratty whispered.

Napstablook sniffed. "...r-really?"

"A-absolutely!" Burgerpants said. "Mettaton told all sorts of lies! Like 'your work is appreciated' and 'i'll pay you next thursday' and... uh. The point is that he, you know... did it out of the, er, goodness of his... heart. His shows made a lot of people happy."

"... you're right..." Napstablook said.

"I'm sorry," Catty said. She started to reach out to put a hand on their shoulder, then thought better of it.

"We've... lost a lot," Bratty added.

"it's... okay," Napstablook said. Their frown leveled out into a more neutral expression, which seemed an improvement. "i... feel like i first lost my cousins when they left the farm... i was ready for  this... i just wish i could see them one more time..."

"... Maybe you could," Catty said, a smile coming to her face.

"What are you, like, talking about, Catty?" Bratty asked.

"There've gotta be rerun tapes out there!" Catty said. "We could play them again and, like, liven everyone up! It's like a ghost town around here! ... No offense!"

Napstablook didn't seem to notice the ghost slur, starting to smile for the first time. "that would be... kind of nice..."

"Ooh, girl, that's the second reason I love you!" Bratty said.

"Really? What's the first?" Catty said.

"It starts with 'd' and ends with 'licious'."

"My ideas are devilicious!" Catty said. "Like, I've got a whole new one too! Burgerpants! When you were working with Mettaton, did he ever talk about ideas for new shows or anything?"

He scrambled, excited at the prospect of being noticed. "He... talked about a show called 'At Least You Arent This Guy'. It would star me!" Burgerpants's smile stretched extremely thin. "And, uh... that's it. Just following me and laughing at me. And the punchline was always 'at least you aren't this guy'."

Bratty clapped her hands, laughing. "That's brilliant! We totally gotta do that to honor his memory!"

"And you could be the host, umm--" Catty gestured at Napstablook, who hadn't introduced themself.

"... oh... i don't have much of a stage presence," Napstablook said. "...because video cameras usually make me look invisible..."

"H-hey, besides that one, I know someone who could host a few shows," Burgerpants started, his voice cracking.

"Save it," Catty said, so much an afterthought that Bratty didn't even echo it.

"Like, ghostie, here's how you can help! Do you know any show ideas Mettaton had?" Bratty asked.

"n-no, but... um..." Napstablook said. "... at the farm, we race snails... sometimes... when they're awake..."

"We'll... come back to you on that," Catty said.

"I have a few screenplays I wrote," Burgerpants said. "We set the scene with a rose petal falling onto the ground. Cut to--"

"What are we waiting for?" Bratty said. "C'mon, we gotta go to Mettaton's recording studio and see if there's any tapes left!"

"oh... the guard said... it's heavily restricted who's allowed in or out now..." Napstablook said. "... to another guard... they didn't notice me."

"It'll be fine," Catty said, winking. "I know someone in the Royal Guard."

"They won't want a bribe, will they?" Bratty asked.

"Guys--"

"Pfft, nah!" Catty said. "Ooh! Maybe for the price of being in one of the shows! They're, like, a super energetic kid!"

"Awesome!" Bratty said. "We need someone totally cute for Channel MTT 2.0! They can be an honorary #1 fan of Mettaton!"

"Awesome!" Catty said also. "Let's go!"

The two headed off with Napstablook trailing behind them as they started to prod the ghost about Mettaton before his fame. Burgerpants stood, waving weakly at them, not expecting a response and duly not getting one.

In truth, they hadn't even invited him along when they discovered the ghost outside the shop. He had followed, hoping that their survival of his alleged near-death experience with Endogeny had bonded them in some way, and that the apocalypse had killed their past awkwardness too. But he, despite it all, had continued to be himself.

Why was he doing this? he thought. Even after Mettaton's death, he was still somehow ruining Burgerpants's life. Shit, even he referred to himself as Burgerpants sometimes now. His chance to step into the Underground's entertainment spotlight and he blew it by hanging out with a weird lizard kid and two girls that had been repairing their friendship by simultaneously telling him to shut up.

He leaned back against the wall to the shop (how the hell did they find that ghost coming from this direction? did the underground loop?). Sure was a good thing they were still handing out free food, because he was out of a job now that his boss and 90% of his customer base were dead. But he'd admit, without the regular routine of work and jotting down show ideas and watching old MTT tapes in secret, he wasn't sure what to do.

Everyone had this 'renewed lease on life' crap. This 'second chance' bull. They hid in a basement for a while and acted as if they emerged from the cocoon as butterflies rather than nervous worms. He at least had the benefit of knowing he would just be an ugly caterpillar forever.

He rooted around his pockets for a cigarette as he thought, pulling the last one out of the box. He put it to his mouth and tried to find a light only to realize he forgot it at work. Cursing, he crushed it in his palm and immediately regretted his decision.

"Stupid Mettaton. Stupid ghost. Stupid--"

"So, you ever feel like the ghost in these situations?" a voice said, snapping him out of his thoughts.

He nearly jumped ten feet in the air. When Burgerpants looked, Nice Cream Guy was standing by his side, having walked up behind him. He was wearing a hard hat in addition to his usual outfit. He smiled sheepishly. "Sorry! Sorry. Couldn't help but overhear."

"You scared the hell out of me," Burgerpants said. He inconspicuously tossed the crushed cigarette to the side. "How long've you been standing there?"

"Y'know! Since they... ditched you, I guess," Nice Cream Guy said.

"You didn't say anything?"

He tapped his fingertips together. "Well... I couldn't think of what to say, and you looked like you had a lot on your mind."

"Whole lot of nothing," Burgerpants said. He picked at his nails, his fingers anxious for something to do in lieu of smoking. Nice Cream Guy (or 'Guy', as Burgerpants called him) had come into the store a few times, and if 'friends' involved giving you free ice cream, then he was definitely a friend.

For a while, Burgerpants felt like his friends were anyone who would pay attention to him.

He exhaled, pretending that his visible breath was a cloud of smoke. "What's with the hat? Part of your disguise or something?"

Guy looked up as if he forgot he was wearing the hard hat, then smiled so big his ears tried to perk up despite being confined. Burgerpants couldn't help but smile a little at that. "Oh! No! I'm part of the volunteer crew that's putting the wall up around the town! We're looking for new volunteers! Do you want to help?"

"Oh, sure, I'd love to be a part of the menial labor task force putting together a useless wall for no money! Uh, NOT," Burgerpants said. Guy seemed to droop a little, and Burgerpants instantly found himself backpedaling. "I mean, hey, it's not like it's gonna hurt, but... if another human like that comes around, I don't think there's anything we can do. No offense?"

"An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure!" Guy recited, as if reading a poem. "There's a lot of nice people working on it, too, like Jerry!"

Burgerpants blinked, trying to place the name. "The same dipstick that keeps coming in and ordering a cheeseburger without cheese and getting mad when you give him a hamburger?"

(Of course he would survive the apocalypse. He wouldn't be surrpised if the human couldn't be bothered to kill him because Jerry forgot how to die.)

"Hah! Classic Jerry," Guy said, having an unholy amount of patience. "You're welcome to help if you change your mind, friend."

Friend. He liked the sound of that word. He felt as if there was something he wanted to say, but he stopped himself, afraid of saying something stupid. Guy was on this in an instant. "Are you doing okay? I know you said you wanted to be a star like Mettaton."

"We've only spoken a few times," Burgerpants said. "How did you remember...?"  

Guy smiled wide. It wasn't a Customer Service Smile, that was for sure. His teeth were almost painfully white, as if he spent hours each morning scrubbing them perfectly. "I try to remember at least one important thing about all of my customers, so I can talk to them about it when they come back! It makes everyone happy to feel remembered!"

Burgerpants felt his face getting hot. The only way he remembered his customers was by how angry they made him.

"Uh-huh. Well, yeah. I'm... not alright, I guess," he admitted. Nice Cream Guy was so painfully sincere, it felt wrong to lie to him. Sometimes it made Burgerpants painfully angry and envious, followed by an enormous wave of guilt; how could someone be angry at someone so genuine?

"I mean... I keep thinking about it. Let's face it. Mettaton was better than me in every way," Burgerpants said. "I kept myself going by thinking it was only chance he was invented and rose to the top, but... I guess now I know he was really great from the bottom of his SOUL. He tried to stop the human. Ain't like I did."

(Even though he made fun of the ghost for it, he thought. How else did he mask his insecurities?)  

Guy furrowed his brow. He seemed to be struggling on what to say. Burgerpants felt embarrassed opening up about it. It's not like Mettaton spent much time whining.

"We all do things we aren't too proud of?" he said, almost as a question. "Like... me, for instance."

Burgerpants snorted. "You?"

"I'm not good at telling jokes," Guy admitted. "I try really hard!"

He thought back to all the popsicle sticks that just said 'You look great!' or was a picture of two guys hugging. The image brought a grin to his face too. "It's subtle humor, for me," Burgerpants said. "The joke being that I don't look great."

"Aha, but it is a double-scoop and thereby multi-layered joke," Guy said. "The real joke being that you do look great!"

"Guess I can't argue with that logic."

"I almost forgot!" Guy said. "We found a working coffee machine. We don't have coffee, but we're making some using the melted Nice Cream from my old cart! Want some?"

"That... sounds horrible," Burgerpants said, his grin spreading. "Let's go."

The two made their way to the part of the wall the crew was working on, happy. Nice Cream Guy even stopped and slowed his pace when Burgerpants fell behind.

Guy waved at the crew as they approached. Burgerpants waved as well, and they actually waved back-- Jerry ‘supervising’ a few others who looked as if they wanted to throw the bricks at his head, an Ice Cap with a hard hat on top of their regular hat, and a bird lifting a disproportionately large brick and flapping its wings too hard to wave, among others. A motley crew with only one thing in common: they all seemed happy to see them arrive.

It's gonna be alright, Burgerpants thought to himself, as the chatter and laughter grew louder as he approached. You're gonna make it, old buddy.

Chapter Text

"Looks like nobody's home."

It wasn't the response that Asgore had been hoping for. He jumped and turned around, pressing his back up to the door to the Ruins as if to hide it-- but even he was too small to cover the great door that once gave way to the Underground’s greatest terror. Besides, he never was able to lie to Gerson, anyway.

"I was simply. Testing it," Asgore said. "For knockability."

"It sure has been taking a while," Gerson said, a gleam in his eye.

"It is a large door," Asgore said.

"I wouldn't stay in the habit of telling lies if I were you," he said. "You might start believing 'em."

"... Perhaps I already have."

Gerson was silent. Asgore slumped. He knew he should reside in New Snowdin rather than making the journey from New Home every day. His presence would help the townspeople feel safer. But being seen meant risking being asked questions-- trying desperately to balance convincing them the human was dead but he didn't have seven SOULs. 

Earlier, he had been able to pacify them long enough to keep them quiet during the migration down to Snowdin by attempting to explain the 'amalgamates' that had been discovered. Yes, he had explained, he did remember that Alphys had taken in monsters who had fallen down. Yes, he remembered everyone calling her, and then when she stopped answering, calling him with increasing indignation.

He remembered one day, she stopped answering his calls, too.

(He couldn't have imagined that would have been the last time he ever spoke to her.)

"Sometimes," Asgore said, "I feel as if there is no other choice."

Gerson scratched his goatee. "The truth's always there."

"... I do not know if they want to hear it."

"It's either that or they have a King who jumps in dumpsters to avoid talking to them!"

Asgore's eyes went wide. "You saw that?!"

"Wa ha ha! I can smell it!" Gerson said. "C'mon, Fluffybuns, you aren't made for this kind of stuff."

"Any ruler has to be prepared to keep order among his people," Asgore said, stiffening. "Even making a decision that will cost him his family and friends."

"You ain't exactly a good liar."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, you know. When they asked about those... 'amalgamates'," Gerson said. "Maybe I'm just an old coot, but 'they ran into each other very hard and merged' isn't much of an excuse."

"I. I may have panicked a little."

"Now I've got boys in the guard butting heads to see if they fuse together," Gerson said, chuckling.

Asgore smiled weakly. "I have not told them about the SOULs. They would expect me to absorb them. I..."

"I know," Gerson said, taking on a soothing tone.

"I cannot."

"I know," he repeated.

"They think that I who slayed the human rather than the skeleton," Asgore said. "I had almost corrected them, but he spoke up and made it sound as if I killed the human, too." He frowned. "... I sense he has been avoiding me, now."

"Doesn't feel nice when people start dodging your questions and avoiding you, eh?"

The giant fiddled with his thumbs, feeling like a mouse. "... I can only trust that his word is accurate that the human is... no longer with us. I had wanted to ask what became of their SOUL. However... he seemed as if he was under a lot of pressure."

Gerson was silent for a moment. "We've turned up nothing. There's nobody-- literally. No body."

Seven caskets flashed before Asgore's eyes. He shook the vision away. "I... do not want to have to ask for Sans of Snowdin to be detained for questioning."

"Y'know as well as I do that I wouldn't arrest someone if you just told me to, anywho," Gerson said. He grinned. "Especially not someone who's capable of felling a human."

"There is my dilemma," Asgore said and sighed.

"Were you hoping to ask her for advice?" Gerson asked.

"I would be content with as little as to see her face."

They both shared a look-- as if they knew that no matter who knocked at the door to the Ruins now, nobody would come to answer.

Gerson's smile slowly faded from his face to a look of sympathy. Asgore turned away, as if embarrassed. "... In truth. Every day since it happened, I have written the same thing in my diary, as if it would stop time from passing. I lived so much in denial that I refused to leave the world I created when this one was undergoing armageddon."

"It's not your fault, Asgore," Gerson said.

"This all could be over if I would absorb one SOUL and cross the barrier," Asgore said. "The little flower was right."

"Asgore--"

"I am a coward."

"You're wrong, Asgore!"

Gerson hadn't raised his voice since the last moment of the war, and only then had it been in shock. He hadn't raised his voice in anger since much longer, since his training as the 'Hammer of Justice'.

His words struck hard and rang out with a certain finality: no rambling memories or silly laugh at the end. Asgore felt as if he was looking up to him from a young prince's eyes again.

"There's nothing more honorable than dedication to one's service!" Gerson said. "I pledged my life to the crown and I won't have that disrespected by self-hatred!"

Asgore felt as if saying 'yes, sir'. Gerson had been there when he was born, and, if Asgore wasn't lying to himself, he expected Gerson to be the first person to discover his dust when he died.

"It was you who brought hope to those in the kingdom without stopping to grieve, yourself!" Gerson said. "It was you who stuck by your plan of war even if it cost you your wife as well! No weaker man could have shouldered that burden!"

"I never intended to destroy humanity," Asgore said.

"Of course you didn't," Gerson said. He shook his head as Asgore looked surprised. "You wept the first time you killed a human. I was there for you, remember? And it was you who closed their eyes and knelt by their coffin in prayer for them. Someone like that couldn't destroy all of humanity."

Asgore just shook his head. "It is because I am weak."

"It's because you're strong that you shouldered this burden." Gerson shook his head. "I didn't understand, at first. Didn't we agree that escaping would be pointless 'cause humans would finish the job on us? I felt... this isn't you. It might've brought hope, and I came to admire your decision, but I knew it wouldn't end like you thought."  

“What was I to do?” Asgore said. “My children were murdered by humans. That wound was shared by so many who still could feel sunlight on their backs as we receded into the ground.”

“... It’s true. Monsters have collectively lost so much,” he said. “Our population was cut in half in the war, and now again...” 

When he slouched, he looked so, so much older than he usually did, as if he were finally succumbing to the weight of time. It was as if death carved a mark in his face for every monster he had outlived, including monsterkind’s first king. 

“... Asgore,” he said, now-- no ‘Fluffybuns’, no ‘kid’. “I always told you the reason I never had family of my own was because I was too busy in my service to the crown.”

“Yes...?”

“I lied, Asgore,” he said. “The reason I didn’t was because war and I were born in the same ward. I made a point of not remembering my soldiers’ names so I wouldn’t get attached. The only person I actively cared about was your father, the first king of monsters.” 

“But what of when he passed on?”

“I was ready to lash out and kill everyone I came in contact with, human or monster.” He said it so matter-of-factly, it shocked Asgore. “Funny how it works out, huh? Just one small change and I could’ve been just like that human that did so many of us in now. Wonder if they just didn’t have someone like you, the way I did.”  

The second half of his sentence threw Asgore for a loop just as much as the first half did. “What was it you said?”

His smile found its way gradually back onto his face. “That’s what stopped me from lashing out. Your speech about mercy. ‘We owe it to those we lost to live and to live as fully as we can’. Your father wouldn’t want me to go on some quest for vengeance and wind up extinguishing the last of us. He would want me to pledge my life to the new king.

“... You see, Asgore. It didn’t matter worth squat that I tried to have nobody to lose. The only feeling worse than losing my king was having nobody else there for me when it did happen,” he said. He leveled his shoulders, looked Asgore in the eye. “Even then, having lost your father, you were still trying to cheer up all the other monsters about it. Selfish old coots like me.”

He felt as if all his unsaid words that had clouded his sight had evaporated and left him seeing Gerson for the first time. “I... I do not know what to say.” 

“How about ‘save it, old man’?” Gerson said with a wry smile. “Old Gerson’s gotten that one before.”

“I would never say that!”

He laughed. “You’re a kind soul. Always will be. Always looking out for others. But I followed you here, ‘cause nobody’s looking out for you,” he said. “I thought, if you wouldn’t take it from nobody else, you could take it from yourself. ‘We owe it to those we lost to live and to live as fully as we can.’ Or somethin’ close to that, my ol’ memory ain’t what it used to be...”

“It does sound familiar,” he said. “I said those words, but I did not take them to heart.”

“You felt they applied to everyone else,” Gerson said. “But not you, oh no. You can handle all the burden alone.”

He cast another glance at the door to the Ruins, the place they once called Home. 

“Thank you, Gerson,” he said, finally. “Your words- and mine- have given me perspective.” 

“That’s what old folks like me are here for. Wise words and old man jokes,” he laughed.

Asgore’s thoughts drifted back still to humanity. Over time, ‘the surface’ faded from a memory to an idea. The wound scarred-- didn’t heal, but didn’t bleed. Despite the lack of sunlight, when he would walk the Underground, he would see children playing and hear parents laughing and feel as if they were living as fully as possible. The fall of other humans was so infrequent, most monsters couldn’t spot one if they tried.

And thus, ‘war against humans’ was no longer standing in a field of dust and broken armor and patches of fur. It was hopeful glances in the direction of the barrier before shrugging and returning to one’s book. 

"... There were indeed some unpleasant humans during the war. There were also wonderful humans, like my childhood friend." Asgore said. "You know this as well as I. They were credited with the idea of sealing us rather than exterminating us. They gave us the chance to live, and for I to meet Chara.”

"There’s something you should know," Gerson said. "Some people say the humans used your friend with the poncho as bait to lure you out, but I was the one who spotted them. They didn't have their trademark spear with 'em. This may be a crazy old man's rambling, but... I think they were coming to defect to our side."

"Defect?"

"I don't know for sure, but I do know they looked shocked when the human army leapt out and attacked," he said. "Not to mention that when I told your father what I saw, he could have let you go out and talk to 'em, but he didn't, because he wanted you to be safe. He could have killed ol' poncho at once and taken their SOUL, but he didn't, because he wanted to hear them out.

"The human, they probably wanted to shield your father from the attacks, urge him to take their SOUL, something like that. Your father could have let it happen and ended the war."

"But he gave his life," Asgore said.

"He did," he said. "Because he put aside his feelings about humanity and protected someone innocent."

Asgore watched snowflakes fall, landing silently atop one another, covering their footprints back to town. Gerson let him think for a while, the two of them silent.

"As long as I am King, I will be expected to absorb the SOULs and end this," he said. "Especially after what has happened with this human."

"Is that what they want? Is that what you want? Being King didn't used to mean that. If I recall, it was you who made it so," he said. "Soon, you'll have to make a choice. But you should know that this world isn't just kill or be killed. Until you can make your choice with a clear mind and a light heart, wait. If you want her advice--" he gestured to the door, "-- think of why she may have left in the first place."

"... You are right." He straightened his back, adjusted his crown. "Perhaps if I come clean as well, perhaps Sans will do the same."

"That's the ticket," Gerson said.

"Thank you again, Gerson,” he said. He opened his mouth to speak, paused, scratched his cheek, felt snowflakes accidentally settling on his tongue. “... You are family to me.”

He smiled wide, showing his teeth. “Shucks, Fluffybuns. You’re family to me too.”

Gerson seemed embarrassed, as if he didn’t know how to deal with childlike praise. It wasn’t as if he had ever been a parent. The more Asgore thought on it, the more he remembered Gerson being the one to teach him to repair a weapon and brew tea just right and march properly.  Things he would have passed on to Asriel and Chara. Things his own father hadn’t taught him.

"One more thing," Gerson said, now. "What was it the flower told you, exactly...?"

"... What we spoke about. Why I am a coward. How I left my children's memorial tarnished because I live in the past."

"Huh. Interesting," he said with a shrewd smile. "What's his business with it? I sure haven't seen flowers passing around those parts before."

"I... I am not sure."

"Never quite seen a monster like that, no sir," Gerson said. "The only place I know of those golden flowers growin' is on the surface and your throne room. Somewhere'n Waterfall, too, I think. My point is..." He stopped. "... I, er. I forgot."

"Let me know if you remember," Asgore said. He grinned "... Gerson. I am sorry to have bothered you with my self-pity."

"You didn't bother me one bit," he said. "If you need me again, I'll be back in town. We need to get ready for the big shindig tomorrow."

"Er..." he asked. "Whose shins are being dug...?"

"Wa ha ha! You forgot already?" he asked.

"That is not true. It is also possible I did not hear to begin with," Asgore said. So many of his thoughts had been focused on her and on Asriel--

As if he could tell where his train of thought was headed, Gerson cut him off. "Snowdin's electing a mayor, just for kicks," he said. "You know. Someone else to keep 'em happy, make them believe in hope for monsterkind."

Asgore blinked. "Hope... for monsterkind?"

"And living in memory of those we lost and all that."

He blanched, looking down at his feet. "... I suppose I have not been there in their time of need, so preoccupied with my own secrets..."

"We're savin' a seat for you, though, just so you know," Gerson said. "It ain't too late. I just wouldn't spend the night out here or anything. I, for one, feel as if I could go for a nice cup of Sea Tea. If you’d excuse me, there’s quite a few preparations to watch other people do..." he trailed off, chuckling to himself, heading back toward town. Asgore watched him go, surprised he had known this man his whole life and only now had come to understand him. 

He wavered, turning back towards the door. His shoulders slumped-- in reality, despite all the hopes he piled on top of it, he had faced the possibility of never seeing her again a long time ago.

He trailed his fingers down the door. So often, when he walked about the Underground, he still held his hand out a little as if to hold someone else's. They discovered the nose nuzzling challenge that way, weren't even out to compete--

He chuckled, his hand falling back to his side. Toriel didn’t just know how he felt-- she often knew how he felt before he did.. What would she be saying now, he wondered?

'Asgore! Get into that town now and stop lurking around like a big old creep!' he imagined. He chuckled again. Most probably something along those lines. He supposed it was too much to ask that Toriel had survived this... incident. Alphys's suicide note had mentioned that the human had left the Ruins.

He tried just once- experimentally- to channel anger toward humanity, clenching his teeth, balling his fists. Humans took and took and took and didn't stop until his children and his wife were dead--

'Mr Dad Guy'

The words breezed into his mind like a gust of wind and blew out the flame of anger he was trying to kindle. He couldn't do it. He couldn't recall the state that made him declare war on humanity, even now. Humans took so much from Chara-- Asgore knew this, too. And Chara only gave.

He knocked on the door. "Knock knock," he said aloud, for good measure.

'Who's there?' he imagined.

"I am knocking," he said-- and unable to contain himself, he burst into laughter. Asriel and Chara thought that was the funniest joke, equally nonsensical and literal that it was the epitome of kid humor. He laughed and laughed and laughed and didn't even notice when the tears had started to fall after generations of holding them in.

It had been strange. When Chara was dying (it felt so strange admitting it, like airing an open wound), they never cried. He hadn't thought about it- he thought about it as little as possible- but now, in retrospect, he wondered if he had been comforting himself while kneeling at Chara's bedside and telling them it would be all right.

He always had been a big fluffy old mess, hadn't he? He couldn't help but wonder if there was a mix-up, sometimes. It felt as if Toriel should've been the one to inherit the throne and lead monsterkind with her natural serenity and objective mind, as rational and as smart as his father was. He rubbed off on Asriel, too-- they were both crybabies, and often no sooner had Asgore dried one's tears than did he have to go into another room and dry his own.

But he also saw so much of Toriel in Asriel, too. His profiency for creating plans, for example, prompting Chara with his list of 1000 things he always wanted to do when he got a best friend even though he only came up with around 100 or so. His ambition, too, on that note! Even if it got the better of him, such as saying he would create 1000 items on that list even if he ran out of ideas, or trying his hardest to grow golden flowers underground when Chara asked--

In his mind's eye he saw the flower wink. 'Flowey'-- a peculiar breed, he spoke of having lost his mother but Asgore had never seen a talking flower, much less two.

He had a strange idea, then, and maybe it was born from all the nights he had laid awake.

What if his mother hadn't been a flower?

He mulled it over, frowning. The flower didn't want anything to do with him anymore, that much was clear. He couldn't blame him. He didn't want anything to do with himself.

Asgore stood up straight again, dusting himself off. He looked back at the door to the Ruins one last time. For a minute he stood longer, as if hoping to hear a knocking back from the other side. But he didn't, and for once, it didn't crush him as much as it had before.

He turned away and headed into town, flowers on his mind.

Chapter Text

If you asked, they'd say the year was 20XX, because they were more than happy to lose track of time together.

Asriel realized after a while that there had been a time before he knew Chara, and it was strange, because he felt as if he had known them his whole life. He couldn't imagine life without them.

Look at me now, Flowey thought as snowflakes piled atop him.

The only way Flowey lost track of time now was hiding outside Sans's house like a coward. He often did this type of thing, tantamount in his mind to scientific observation in the field. Today he just admitted to himself he was stalking the skeleton, too afraid to make contact after their last meeting.

The house was aglow with warm light from within and the snow had been cleared off the path up to the house as if nothing was abnormal. Occasionally, if Flowey deluded himself, he could still pretend Papyrus was in there blabbing about his 'cool flower friend'. But instead he saw himself for what he was: a child staring at the equivalent of a shoebox buried in the backyard, not understanding why Mom and Dad couldn't make the puppy get up and work again like any other toy.

And so, scientific, level-headed, his mind clear: he knew that Sans was in there and didn't seem outwardly hostile. Usually it was hard to tell if he was angry at you until it was too late, but he hadn't told Asgore the truth (as far as he knew) and Sans didn't tend to go behind one's back. But then again, the longterm loss of Papyrus was a variable Flowey had studied sparsely. Oh, he claimed it made the balance of the timeline 'unstable' or that Sans would hurry and find his brother's killer 'too fast for longterm effects to be studied'.

Then again, maybe seeing someone live in pain after their sibling's death just hit too close to home.

Scientific. Level-headed. He shook the thoughts out of his mind. Snow was piling atop him. He could just go into the warmth of the house whenever he was ready and probably not be murdered outright. He also knew he'd never be ready, and he also knew that Sans knew that and probably was forming some type of strategy against him with the extra time Flowey was giving him, and he also knew that Sans knew that he knew that neither of them knew anything.

God, his head hurt. This timeline wasn't supposed to exist. He had seen them all. He had manipulated every variable. Sans wasn't the type of person who would just let him off the hook. Sans was a relaxed guy with a relaxed smile whether shaking your hand or ending your life. He faced the business end of his little 'blasters' more than once; when he caught sight of him standing in Chara's way, he wasn't sure who to bet on.

"You don't understand!" Chara snapped, red along their upper arms where a knife kissed their skin. Those cuts were just where they could be covered by their sleeves, low enough that Asriel could see them when they raised their arms but high enough that Asriel was torn between telling their parents and risking losing their trust or not. "ONE of us has to die, and if it's going to be someone, it needs to be me!"

"B-but why?"

"That's all humans have ever been good for! That's all we've ever done is kill and die!" they said. And then, more quietly: "Who am I to fight that?"

Sans had killed him before. Chara only should have.

A guard came patrolling down the path. Flowey ducked out of sight, more than happy to be shaken out of the memory. Once they passed, he re-emerged closer to the house. He could do this! He was so good at faking emotion before he thought he had any. Just a simple suggestion of a smile... a blush on the cheeks, hands folded neatly...

...

...Chara hadn't been so cruel before. Chara had been the type of person who would take the blame for a mistake Asriel himself made, even after their parents knew they were lying to protect him. They had only made Asriel start to feel like the mistake later, when their grudge against humanity won over.

"You're the prince of the Underground, you idiot," they said, once, and now red blood found its way from their mouth as well as their cuts. "They need you. They don't need me. They'll never need me."

Funny. Asriel had always wondered why Chara avoided mirrors, puddles, anything they could see their face in. It was fitting they returned by possessing another being, no matter how much they must have known how much he wanted to see their face (they must have known, they were watching him until they knew he deserved to see him again right?)

He really was an idiot. How many obvious signs of distress had they thrown out there? How many had he not noticed? How many had he willingly ignored in favor of stretching out their happy days together as far and thin as possible?

And to think he had ever revealed his true identity to Asgore or Toriel, after he woke up as a flower. That's all he did-- disappoint. It was easier this way. 'Kill or be killed', by extension, meant you needed no one else. Flowey didn't have to be hurt again. When he hurt others, it would be on his own terms, not because he was so pathetic.

He moved closer to the house. He found himself awash in the colors from the festive lights on the house. He just stared at them for a while until they burned his eyes and remained when he closed them. He kept the image as he sank back underground and out of sight.

Fear. That's how Asriel died and how Flowey would die, too.

If you asked, he'd say the year might as well still have been 20XX, because he kept making the same stupid mistakes.

---

You could tell the younger monsters from the older ones by how they reacted to Asgore. Some of the older ones still called him 'your highness' and 'sir' constantly instead of only on formal occasions, raised on stories exaggerated by generations how mighty Asgore was during the war.

(Eventually, his name stolen by time, 'the king' spoken of in stories of the war overlapped with 'the king' everyone knew today, watering his flowers and watching his step as to not kill any bugs under his feet.)

It had always been true that he'd been trained extensively to become the strongest monster in the Underground-- in a way. He felt his measure of strength was different from everyone else's. He won the fights against those six humans, but for some reason, he was always the one brought down to his knees at the end.

Monster Kid was one of the younger monsters. Seeing him approaching New Snowdin yet again, they bounced up and down in excitement and almost forgot to move aside and let him enter.

Snowdrake's father, 'Snappy', was one of the older monsters. He stood at attention and didn't feel much at ease when Asgore sank several, several feet down to his height to face him. It seemed to some a condescending gesture when anyone except Asgore did it-- otherwise the whole Underground would be in his shadow.

"Just the man I wanted t'see," Snappy said, as he relaxed a little. They met beside the Christmas tree. Snappy seemed to be struggling with some branches, which he dropped when Asgore approached. "Lots of talk 'boutcha these days, eh?"

"Has there been?"

"Yessir. All the fuss. It's about the seventh SOUL or such," he said. "Sure is odd how m'wife came to be mashed-up like all those other... er, what are they called proper? Amalgamates?"

"Ah. Uh. Yes."

"To think of all the people I bumped into. On the street and all," Snappy said. The situation was tense as soon as they met-- or earlier, as soon as Asgore said he'd 'keep an eye out' on the way down to Snowdin to try and find Snowdrake.  

"Do you ever feel like. Maybe lots of other people are part of you because you ran into them? Maybe somewhere along the line. I coulda bumped into a good fathah. Ha ha ha..." Snappy slumped, slowly, his back against a tree. "That's not funny."

"Come, now. It... it is not like that," Asgore said soothingly. "I am sure that Snowdrake--"

"Don't waste your words on me. My son, I gave him the death sentence the day I let him run off. I thought one day we would reconcile. One day. But I kept doing my shows. Telling my jokes. And then my days were up."

"... I understand," Asgore said. "You wonder what you would have done if you could change the past."

"Biggest joke of 'em all," Snappy said. "The past, that's what it is. Past. A lesson. My son, I tried to teach him that if you break your toy, sometimes it can't be fixed. If you keep glueing 'em up for him, the kid gets spoiled. Starts breaking 'em on purpose. Knowing there'll always be more." He looked up at Asgore. "What if I could bring him back? Will I remember how much I loved him really when he's there? Or will I just go back to doing my shows?

"Ha ha ha... He's better off without me, now. In a better place. I hope I don't spoil it for 'em too soon by dying off too. Ha..." he said, the words having spilled forth from him the way they had from Asgore to Gerson. The man's glasses fogged up, but even Asgore could tell he was holding back tears. How many other 'maybe's had he gotten when asking others to help him find Snowdrake? How many times had he been assured he could still be out there, when the Loox and Astigmatism had turned up nothing?

Suddenly, when you were a victim, you were fragile. Everyone treated you like glass. With Asgore, it had been stained glass-- they looked, but never got too close. But with Snappy, it was plain glass, shards on the floor and a frigid breeze rolling in from outside. Nobody knew what to say to a victim. And now, everyone was one.

He found himself again at a loss for words. It astounded him, sometimes, that he was the one who had to survive all this. Toriel would have known exactly what to say. Asriel had an infectious optimism that made everyone want to be his best friend. Chara had a talent with words that left them at the helm for the Underground's future.

He was good with a trident and knew how to trim dead leaves.

Asgore pulled the other monster awkwardly into a hug-- not too firm as to not squeeze the smaller man to death, but not too distant either. Gerson hadn't ever been one to show affection in ways besides making his trainees run one less lap; Asgore didn't realize how much he needed a hug, too. Snowdrake's father seemed surprised for a moment, as if shocked anyone would care about him, then returned it.

(For a moment, Asgore thought of Flowey and how much a challenge it had been to try and embrace him. He was surprised; he thought he would be more confused by a talking flower. Maybe he was in denial and was still in shock from a murderous human.)

"Look how selfish I am. Talkin' about this to the king of all monsters. Ha ha..." Snappy said. "... It should've been me. Not my wife. With her, Snowdrake wouldn't have run off. I should've been the Amalgamate. How crappy I am, it could get disguised under the form of a dozen other people."

"It is all right. I am no king if I cannot bear the burdens of my people," Asgore said. He thought of his next few words carefully. "When my child fell ill, I felt as if I did all I could. I did not look back on it. I did not grow from this. If I were a plant, half of my branches would have died, only for me to still expect them to bear fruit." He paused. "Does... that make sense?"

"It does," Snappy said. "Some great part of you, lost. You didn't want to admit it."  

"Yes. It was from my refusal to learn that I lost my other child as well," Asgore said. "It is only from the recent advice of a good friend that I have come to understand. If a weed is choking your plant and preventing its growth, it must be cut out. Then, it may grow more spectacularly than ever before."

"A way with words. You sure have it. You could be a poet... haikus or something," Snappy said, as the two pulled back. "Ha ha. That felt... nice. No more cynical comedy for old Snappy. I guess for this new routine, I gotta... break the ice. Eh?"

Asgore blinked. "Now I do not get it."

"Ah, nevermind. Needs some perfecting," he said. "King Asgore. From th' bottom of my old, selfish heart, thank you."

"You are always welcome," Asgore said, immediately afterwards wondering if the 'always' sounded too mushy. He gestured to the branches and sticks that Snappy had been trying to carry. "Can I ask what the problem was with these?"

"Oh!" Snappy said. "Those. I was bringing them to my new house. Me and some others, we're staying there, but there's no heat yet proper from the CORE. So we wanted t'start a fire. They asked me to get some firewood. But I'm more of a joke-wrangling guy and not a lumber-wrangling guy."

"Does the Shop not have any extra?" Asgore asked, confused.

"They ran out fast, they did," Snappy said. "I can't leave town without a good reason. So, I took off a few branches on the ol' tree here." He gestured up to the Christmas tree. Asgore noticed the presents underneath had been raided with claw marks rather than clean knife cuts. "Looks like it doesn't have much longer left."

Asgore looked at the tree. He grabbed the base of it with one hand and lifted it effortlessly. He summoned his trident in his other hand and hacked off a part of the trunk, then placed the tree back down, a little shorter this time. Finally, he picked up the log he had cut as well as the sticks. "If you would not mind, could you please lead me to your residence?"

Snappy stood with his mouth agape. He adjusted his glasses, starting to head off. "Y-yessir. This way."

They walked, Asgore taking care to survey all the monsters were safe in the homes they passed. "... If you or anyone you know has an issue, tell them they will from now and on find me in New Snowdin rather than New Home. I must be available for my people again," Asgore said. "I have much I need to tell them."

"The human? Did you get their SOUL after all?" Snappy asked. "The surface. My wife deserves to see it, but me... Without my child--"

"No. It is about that," Asgore said. "I cannot bear this burden anymore. I cannot use the SOULs to break the barrier."

Snowdrake's father was silent for a while. The two simply waded through the snow. It had been piling higher lately. Without anyone choosing to clear it, it simply kept growing worse and worse.

Finally, Snowdrake's father spoke up. "There was a reason my family followed you to the Underground rather'n dying in the old king's honor. There was enough bloodshed. Fighting was easy. Showing mercy was harder than anything else," he said. "We forgive, rebuild taller n' prouder, crack a few jokes, share a few laughs, and over time... forget. That's how we do. When you said we were at war with humanity. We rallied behind that. Not because we believed in it, but because we believed in you."

"... Thank you," Asgore said. "With your support, I feel as if I have the strength to be honest with my people. However, if they still wish overwhelmingly for the destruction of humanity... I cannot deny that promise to them after so long."

"Fair's fair," he said. "King. Forgive us if that's what they choose. Y'see... You and I. Without our children, we have the rest of time to think on our mistakes."

He looked up to the cave ceiling for a moment. Then he leveled his stare back on Asgore, already looking a millenium older.

"Most of them? They don't."

Chapter Text

Everything was normal in Sans’s purgatory. As Flowey had been hiding outside, Sans had absolutely not been picking up his socks, finally wiping that ketchup stain off the counter, even feeding his pet rock for once. It absolutely was not a surprise for his brother who would never come home to see it.

This was Sans, after all. Same old Sans, living in denial forever. The cleaning happened unconsciously-- some things gave him an overwhelming sense of wrongness, and so he fixed them. And then he fixed another thing, and the another, and before he knew it, the house was like new. As far as he could tell, Papyrus wasn't around, so he had to have done it. The same old Sans.

When he was done, he slipped off his hoodie (same old patches and stains) and laid on the couch (same old lumps). Everything besides the tidiness of the house was the same to the point that, if he closed the curtains, he could have pretended that his world hadn't come crashing down.

But he left them open. Maybe the reason he had done all the things he had promised Papyrus, executive dysfunction and all, was so he wouldn't be able to pretend anymore. But it didn't stop him from laying face-down in the pillow and willing his vision to go entirely black.

"hey, bro, do you think they're real?"

"HM? WHO ARE YOU REFERRING TO?" Papyrus had said.

He smiled a little. He could still picture every nuance of Papyrus's voice as if they had just spoken rather than as if it had been a long time. He forced himself to remember every detail of the memory in hopes it wouldn't fade.

"the angel from the prophecy," Sans had said. He was older then, no longer getting lost in Waterfall but not yet making a ruckus about their father. "like they were talking about in class."

"YOU? PAID ATTENTION IN CLASS???" Papyrus had said. "THIS IS UNPRECEDENTED..."

"i always pay attention in class. i just choose not to learn anything."

"I ALWAYS HAVE A SLIVER OF HOPE WHEN YOU RAISE YOUR HAND, AND YET YOU ALWAYS CHANGE THE SUBJECT TO SOMETHING ASININE..."

"like you are now?" Sans had said with a wink. "seems like you're learning from me."

"NO!!! ANYTHING BUT THAT!" Papyrus had said-- and both of them laughed.

Those had been happier days. Before they had fled with nobody to lead them home.

"WELL..." Papyrus seemed to be thinking. "THAT GUEST SPEAKER--"

"the old dude from waterfall?"

"DON'T CALL HIM AN 'OLD DUDE'! IT'S DISRESPECTFUL!"

"but he introduced himself as the 'old dude from waterfall'," Sans had said.

"WHATEVER!" Papyrus had said. "I GUARANTEE THE ANGEL IS REAL! ONE DAY, THEY'LL APPEAR FROM THE SURFACE AND BREAK THE BARRIER!"

To think, he had been all starry-eyed, imagining some type of angel or seraph descending and bringing freedom to monsterkind.

The only type of freedom that had been brought from the surface was death.

Sans wasn't sure how long he spent reminiscing, but angels lingered on his mind as there was a knock on the door. He willed his bones to work as he stood, bracing himself on the arm of the couch, and made his way to answer.

Monster Kid and some friends stood outside. Little did any of them know that Flowey was long gone by now.

"'Sup'!" Monster Kid said, deepening their voice to mimic Sans's. "Um... we brought some stuff, but we needed help from a smart guy, so I thought..."

"Hey, it's, like, you!" Catty said. She and Bratty were holding a bunch of VHS tapes. Catty looked away in guilt. "Um, sorry about all that in the castle... Like, what I said was totally uncool."

"no need to apologize. it was true," Sans said, his tone more serious than he had intended. "but it looks, uh, like you didn't come to talk about him."

"Nope!" Bratty said, Catty mimicking her halfheartedly. "So, like..."

"... we wanted to cheer everyone up!" Monster Kid said, taking a turn at speaking in unison with their friends. "So we found a bunch of cool MTT reruns ourselves 'cause the TV isn't showing 'em anymore!"

"But, like, these tapes are all old and junky..." Bratty said.

"Usually we're great with garbage," Catty said.

Several of the tapes seemed to be halfway caved in whereas others had the tape dangling out in huge knots. Sans was surprised-- he doubted the human cared enough to destroy these if they found them. But beyond that, he didn't think anyone used VHS tapes anymore.

"they don't use these when they record him live anymore. they use the new mttvd format-- mettaton video disc," he said. "the silver frisbees."

He hadn't been a fan of Mettaton, exactly. But he had used the money he saved from the job Papyrus helped get him in order to travel to be a part of the studio audience in one of Mettaton's shows, and he had gotten him and Papyrus front-row seats, and he had fought with his little bones through the crowd to get Mettaton to sign Papyrus's half-eaten Mettaton-shaped pancake.

But it wasn't like he cared much or anything.

"But we couldn't find any of those anywhere..." Monster Kid said, distressed.

"We did have a friendly ghostie helping us, but they stayed behind in the studio, looking for something else..." Catty said. "So this is all we have."

It would've been easy to turn them away, then-- Monster Kid with their endless enthusiasm might've demanded a second search for working tapes, Bratty and Catty would more than likely help them out... it all felt familiar to Sans, as if he had met these people in lives past.

He shook the thought out of his head. "we'll figure it out," he said reassuringly. "this is no place to talk about it. come on in."

The group entered the house. Monster Kid kicked off their boots and helmet and hopped on the couch. "Dude, this is AMAZING! This house is so big! My family could only afford eight lumps in the couch instead of ten!"

"eleven, actually," Sans said. "pretty sure i broke another spring when i laid down."

"Awesome!" Monster Kid said as the girls put the pile of tapes down. They stopped bouncing on the couch, a serious look returning to their face. "So like, you know how to fix these, right?"

Sans squinted at the tapes. He thought he recognized the messy handwriting on the labels from somewhere, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He ignored it in favor of the actual problem. "shouldn't be too hard. let's untangle the tape first."

A comfortable and light conversation arose as they worked. The house felt alive again, not necessarily with shouts at Sans to clean up or berating him for 'napping all night long', but with a similar sense of caring and a similar amount of chuckling that came afterward.

Bratty was the first to look out the window. "I'm glad that... y'know. We have you guys."

"Yeah, we couldn't have done this on our own," Catty said.

Monster Kid puffed out their chest. "Helping is what the Royal Guard is there for!"

"laying around and doing nothing until you guys show up is what the skeleton is there for," Sans said, too.

Bratty gave a wan smile. "Thanks," she said. The start of another sentence lingered on the tip of her tongue, then faded, and then it was quiet.

"... I miss him," Catty said, after a quiet minute. She brushed her finger over Mettaton's name on the label.

Mettaton-- he had showed up like a bolt of lightning in their lives, so suddenly that they couldn't have anticipated where or when he appeared but they were always wondering where he'd be next. He was so influential that monsters didn't know they had missed him even before he'd been invented. Life in the Underground had been far duller before him. The people needed lights and music to distract them from the echoes of the barrier and all the blood and dust shed to make it.

Now the barrier groaned louder than ever, as if straining to contain the sheer amount of hatred that had been exuded within the last few weeks.

"I miss him, too," Bratty said. The two exchanged a look, as if remembering a more carefree time in their lives. Back when they fought for better seats to a concert rather than for their lives. When the idea of 'war against humanity' was just a distant and neat concept, a footnote in a history book but also a dream that was just far enough away to not have to work for it-- before the recent dead outnumbered the living.

"Me three, and my mom four," Monster Kid said. "Haha, dude, like... my mom watched all of his shows, even the dumb cooking ones."

But, despite the laugh, there was no humor in their tone-- especially when they mentioned their mom.

"How is she?" Catty asked. Sans looked up, too, as he untangled a knot. Every time one of them brought up family, Monster Kid acted like it was something for other people. They were never unhappy when others shared happy memories, but they never contributed any of their own, either.

"Oh, uh, you know!" Monster Kid said. "Cool...?"

"does she know you're here?" Sans asked, a shrewd look on his face. "it's getting late."

"Of course! She always has me home by dinner," they said.

"really? dinner already passed," Sans said. He gave Bratty and Catty the slightest conspiratorial nod. They exchanged a glance and let him continue on. "just had me some grub."

"What? We were out that long?!" Monster Kid said, jumping to their feet. They lingered, casting a forlorn look at the door. "But... we weren't done..."

"Aren't you scared she's worried about you?" Catty asked in an uneasy tone. Not much of a liar, Sans could tell.

Fortunately, he'd had practice.

"Um... well..." Monster Kid said. "I can stay a little longer. She won't worry."

"why not?"

Monster Kid's eyes went wide as if they realized they'd been caught in a trap but had no way to get out of it. They spilled their words, tender and fearful: "She doesn't care. She's just gonna take care of my sister. And it's stupid and I... don't wanna go home."

"hey now, it's all right," Sans said. "i was bluffing when i said dinner already passed. sorry, kiddo."

"Huh?! Really?"

"yeah. though i did have some grub already," he said. "i had a feeling something wasn't okay. what's wrong?"

"You tricked a Royal Guardsman! That's a crime!"

"Yeah, but you aren't a Royal Guardsman right now," Bratty started. Catty finished: "Because you aren't wearing the badge."

They turned around. There, on their helmet, was the sticker that Gerson gave them as their official Junior Royal Guard badge. "Aw... darn it!" they said.

He couldn't help but smile at their innocence-- as if they'd been wearing that badge then they could've had them all arrested for saying they already ate dinner.

"...i shouldn't have tricked you," Sans said. "but dumb stuff like that was how my bro got me to talk all the time. i didn't know how to if he didn't coax it out of me. if it's something you think is better left unsaid, or you just don't wanna talk yet, it's cool. but we're here."

"N-no, it's just..." They trailed off. Snow tapped against the window; the cold reality beyond peeked in and watched their every move. "... my dad, he didn't make it in the evacuation. They think he got lost out there or something, but he got my mom and sister out okay."

"Lost? But why would he wander off?" Catty asked. Bratty didn't mimic her speech on this one, giving her a look. And yet Catty continued: "I thought he'd be with his family--"

And then it flashed through her mind:

"Y-yo," Monster Kid finally spoke up. Catty glared at them, but they continued nervously: "I-- I agree with him. I met the human. I thought for a while that we were... friends."

They hadn't been with their family. They were with the human.

"O-ohmigosh, I'm sorry, I didn't even think about it!" Catty said, covering her mouth.

"He could still be out there. I bet he'll figure out we all came back safe and come home?" Bratty said. Regardless of her best efforts, it came out as a question.

"I'm not just some dumb kid," Monster Kid said. "I know he's gone 'cause he was looking for me. I ran off when I shouldn't have like a dumb spoiled idiot."

"i'm sorry," Sans said. Bratty and Catty had frozen, as if in fear that one more mistake would shatter Monster Kid like glass. He reached out and put a hand on their shoulder. "i was running away too. i left my brother alone. he had to face the human by himself."

This was partially true. His 'running away' looked less like evacuating with the others and more like having severe dissociation. Partial honesty was fine, though. He never promised to be a saint or anything.

"... Thanks, Sans," they said. Their voice sounded a lot more mature than it should've. "It's just like that old guy said. Some bad choices might've happened, but you can still choose to do the right things!"

"hey, i thought i was cheering you up," he said, chuckling.

The image of the Delta Rune he had seen in class so long ago flashed through his mind. That's what it all came down to, choice: not waiting for some angel to take everything away. If he had kept waiting for someone else to stop the human, Bratty and Catty and Monster Kid and all the others wouldn't be here. Not even that flower.

"We can both cheer up each other! That's what friends are for," Monster Kid said.

"Thanks for talking to us about it," Catty said.

"No, thank you guys," Monster Kid said. "It's fine you lied to a Royal Guardsman, kinda sorta. I might not be one much longer anyway."

"do you not like it anymore?"

"No, it's fun!" Monster Kid said. "Gerson's super nice and patrolling is cool and everyone likes me! But... my mom doesn't want me to. Says it's too dangerous. Maybe I'll just stop so I can spend more time with my sis and her..."

"That's really mature," Bratty said. Reading her mind, Catty added: "but is it what you want to do?"

They fidgeted, unable to stop looking at their helm. Sans noticed it had no scuffs on it whatsoever, indicating both that they kept it in mint condition but also had never had faced a real fight.

"royal guard or not, you can't really guarantee safety out there," Sans said. "we're all in the same boat. and, uh, it's not a super safe one."

"I wanna help!" Monster Kid said. "I like helping everyone else be at least a little safer! Even if it's tough! I wanna prove to my mom I can do it, even if I gotta do laundry every day for a week-- or a whole month!"

"how'd it go, bro?"

"SHE WAS IMPRESSED!" Papyrus had said. "NOT AT FIRST. BUT WHEN SHE SAW I STAYED UP ALL NIGHT WAITING, SHE ADMIRED MY AMBITION!"

Sans shook the words out of his head. When the dust settled, he felt more sure than he had before. "what if i could get a written request from king asgore for you to serve in the royal guard?"

"What, really?!" Monster Kid said.

"Like, how?!" Catty asked, her jaw also agape.

Sans grinned. "i've talked with asgore before. i'm sure i could get him to do me a favor."

Even if he had to finally talk about the fight with the human. Even if he had to fess up to his own murder. His rage. His despair. His disappointment at having lived through the fight.

"That... that would be awesome!" Monster Kid said. They were bouncing up and down now, nearly knocking the pile of tapes over. "Thank you so so so so much!"

"that was only a favor worth three 'so's. or so," Sans said. "no biggie."

"You're so cool, Sans!" Bratty said.

"Yeah, how'd you become pals with Asgore?" Catty asked, a hint of jealousy in her voice.

He shrugged. "my dashing good looks and my infectious charm?"

The girls rolled their eyes. "Oookay," Catty said, sticking her tongue out.

"it's true," he said. His tone subconsciously had a musical hint to it: "it's a curse being beautiful."

Catty and Bratty's eyes widened. Sans’s did a second later-- it had been a while since that song had been sung in this house.

"Aaaaand you can only be beautiful if you’re me!" Monster Kid burst into song, leaning into the pile of VHS tapes as if it were a mic.

"Tall, dark and squuuaaaare!" Catty and Bratty sung the chorus. They all gestured to Sans expectantly.

"and a partridge in a pear tree?"

They all burst out into a familiar laughter. "You know that's not how it goes!" Monster Kid said. "You started it!"

"i don't know what you guys are talking about. i've never listened to a song in my life."

"Then how'd you know the words to that carol?" Catty demanded.

"pure coincidence. ever heard of the million monkeys on typewriters who would eventually write a christmas carol?"

"Oh, like, whatever!" Bratty said, snorting in laughter.

For a while they went back and forth like that ribbing each other, and suddenly the outside felt far away and the window was forgotten. Not in a manner that suggested they were ignoring it and the problems beyond that it showed, but that they knew it was there but chose to focus on one another instead.

Everything was abnormal, and they were fine in this purgatory together. 

Chapter Text

They both were aware of one another watching, and they did check on one another frequently to see if the other had moved, and they both were within relative proximity of one another, but that didn't mean Sans and Flowey were watching together.

They both showed up conveniently late separately as well. Ever the workers, Nice Cream Guy volunteered himself and Burgerpants (now in a matching hard hat, Flowey noticed) to start setting up tomorrow's celebration. They were the only two to continue working, to Burgerpants's chagrin, even though Asgore had gathered everyone in the middle of town to give a speech.

"Everyone, if I may have your attention," Asgore began, once he was sure everyone had gathered. It was getting late (not that it mattered, Flowey thought, it's not like the sun set) but it had been long since the king had addressed them like this.

The last time had been in the True Lab, when they were all just survivors and refugees rather than citizens and friends, living again.

The beginning of the speech was, of course, cue for Sans to whisper to Flowey. Doing so exactly then would annoy him the most. "you come here often?" 

"Ironically, six feet under is the only place I'm not subjected to you," Flowey whispered back.

"I have left you in the dark long enough," Asgore was saying. Flowey could tell he was putting off the main point, which in turn translated somehow into a stately preamble. This bout of serendipity bought Sans more time to bother him.

"i just wanted to say, uh. sorry, i guess. for how i was acting."

This caught him off guard. "You? Sorry?" Flowey said.

"you wound me," Sans said, smirking. "i'm a very sensitive guy."

Flowey ignored him. 'Sorry' had no meaning as a word besides 'please stop being mad at me now'. Did Sans really expect him to believe that he had remorse?

"... but really, c'mon," Sans said. "you were right, what you said way back when. about other people having lost a lot also and i wasn't making it better. if you really knew papyrus, you knew he was frustrated i never tried as hard as i could."

"Except for the murder. A+ on that," Flowey said.

Despite everything, he tensed. "i learned watching the best."

That hushed him up. The two stopped talking as Asgore seemed to be reaching his main point.

A similar hush had fallen over the crowd. "Now, regarding the barrier and the fate of monsterkind..." he said. A collective breath was taken and held throughout the Underground. Time stood still and looked Asgore in the eye.

"... I feel as if I may have made a grevious mistake. My anger. My vengeance. They have blinded me to what is just," Asgore said. "You have been led to believe wrongly that the six humans who have fallen were cruel and bloodthirsty. This was not so. I have tried to convince myself of it to justify my actions. To repay humanity with the destruction of their kind makes us no better than they.

"It is true that we are down here because of humanity's actions. It is true that they robbed me of my son," Asgore continued. "It is true that we are even in this situation now because a human attacked us.

"It is also true that Chara was the kindest, most pure being I have ever been privileged enough to meet," Asgore said (and Flowey felt as if he felt a heartbeat within himself again for a moment). "It is true as well that as soon as the last human fell, some of us made attempts on their life. And it is also true we expected them to act this way and, in turn, they gave us what we had wanted."

Flowey and Sans exchanged a glance.

"With these ill-gotten SOULs, I still have considerable power," Asgore said. "However, continuing to choose what to do alone makes me little more than a tyrant. Therefore, I leave it in the hands of the people. If it is believed I should use this power to destroy humanity so monsters may rule the surface in peace, then I shall obey without question. Or, if it is preferred that monsters judge each subsequent human on a case-by-case basis and learn from the trials of our past, remaining here in the safety of the Underground, I shall also obey.

"So, I ask for your vote. Should this... war against humanity continue? All I require is a simple yes or no," he concluded.

The air as was thick and stale as it had been in the centuries past, the same air that these monsters had breathed their whole lives and that their parents had breathed their whole lives and that Asriel had escaped from just once. Flowey could almost remember how crisp the surface had been, but mostly he remembered the arrows and pitchforks and torches to his body. He looked over at Sans, who remained expressionless. He looked to the others aroudn him, the young ones. Monsters like that were harder to gauge-- they all thought they wanted the surface. They all thought it would absolve all their problems.

What would happen when they went up there and realized, despite everything, they continued to be themselves?

"I, for one, vote no," Gerson said, having appeared from behind Asgore somewhere. "Look at us. Monsterkind, small enough in numbers to fill a town square. Even if you had the power of seven SOULs, are we sure that would be enough to do any more than break the barrier? Or would they just finish the job that their predecessors started?"

Everyone shifted uncomfortably, especially Asgore, who kept his stare focused on the ground before him. "Remember," Gerson said, "without total conviction, the SOULs aren't guaranteed to cooperate."

"I will obey the will of my people," Asgore said. And Gerson stepped back, slowly, his face grim.

"I vote yes," Bratty spoke up, still carrying VHS tapes. Flowey did a double-take, but saw they were labeled as being Mettaton's old shows. "Like, I mean... I don't want to, but, isn't it kind of our only chance? I don't want to destroy humanity, I guess, but don't we need the power in case another human like that one comes around?" 

Half-hearted, Flowey judged. No conviction. On the surface, she would be the first to go.

There was a black, bitter taste in his mouth as the next person spoke up.

"I vote no!" said Nice Cream Guy, as Burgerpants struggled to move more things by himself. "It... may’ve been the dream of my forefathers, but it isn’t exactly one I share. My Nice Cream stand, these forests, our homes... everything I know is down here,” he said, his voice softer than usual, but still carrying over the crowd. He tried to perk himself up: “Even if there may be more customers on the surface, all the regulars are down here!”

Narrow-minded, he judged. Naive. Born in a hole and would die in a hole. Flowey had been sure for a while he would be down here forever, and then he was no longer sure if he wanted to see the world above that killed him again because Chara had died for it or because he had no other options left.

The next person spoke up as if they regretted it immediately. “That was moving, but... I still am voting yes. I’m sorry,” said the Snowdin shopkeeper. She lowered her head, her hat obscuring her eyes. “What was done to us is unforgivable. It happens again, generation to generation. I cannot live thinking that next time, my children won’t be so lucky.” 

Fear-mongering. Effete. The same type of thought that led humans to try to eradicate monsters to begin with, ready to engrave better safe than sorry on their tombstones. Just one SOUL is all it takes.

Of course, Chara repeated those last words under their breath many times as they sentenced themself to death.

"I vote..." Monster Kid wavered. Everyone gave them the chance to speak, waiting. "I'm... I don't know. Undyne dedicated herself to protecting us and getting the SOULs and stuff. And the human, they took a lot of stuff from us..."

"... But it's not so simple," Catty said, biting a nail,  as if unsure if she should agree with Bratty or risk another conflict-- but Monster Kid seemed conflicted at the concept of war, and it only led her to more uncertainty. "The old dude is right. Even if Asgore became, like, ultra-powerful, there's... not a lot of us to back him up." 

As if it were needed, Flowey thought, but he said nothing. Once, he wouldn’t have minded a route in which he didn’t obtain a seventh human’s SOUL but Asgore did. Once monsterkind left Eden and eventually eroded to dust, and once either Flowey or Asgore himself ended his life, Flowey would have the surface all to himself.

"And call it a hunch, but I'm preeeettty sure the human could've destroyed humanity themself," Burgerpants piped up, taking a break from moving supplies. "If just one could become so powerful, then a whole population of 'em..."

One by one, the survivors spoke up, voting yes or no or having to abstain. The conversation closed in on them from all sides until they were no longer allowed just to observe. Sans and Flowey exchanged another look, one side blank and the other stone-faced, that left unsaid a thousand vibrant words. And as if by a coin flip or by silent benevolence, Sans spoke first.

"i think..." He closed his eyes. "... we shouldn't. when i first heard the human had been killed, i thought i would feel better. like justice had been dealt," he said. "but i didn't. i can't explain it. i guess some part of me thought it would bring back everyone who fell victim to them."

Flowey noticed how carefully Sans chose his words for once. Saying 'heard the human had been killed' rather than 'killed the human'; saying 'everyone who fell victim' rather than 'my brother'.

"is erasing humanity going to bring them back? signs point to no on that one too," he said. "and, guys. truth be told, it won't even get rid of our chance of being wiped out. there's not much of us now. even a really hard sneeze could cause a butterfly effect that ends in a big dust bunny."

Flowey looked up at that, too. There was no way he remembered that phrase from their conversation from timelines ago, when he tried to make Sans gain LOVE in order to raise his miserably low HP. Or did he? Or did he not but was bluffing that--

Forget it, he thought. It was just a stupid comment. He left it at that, and it felt oddly freeing.

"Thank you, Sans," Asgore said. "If I am correct, that places our count at a tie."

"Hm... indeed it does," Gerson said. "Is there anyone who hasn't yet spoken?"

Sans looked at Flowey this time, so small that he was swallowed by the crowd. Flowey felt as if his heart would have a few beats. Suddenly, this was up to him? He'd just been angsting about losing his control over the timeline and suddenly these sad chumps were giving this sad chump reign of the sad chump kingdom?

He felt, somehow, as if this were a little too convenient. But when he looked around, Chara wasn't watching, laughing, waiting.

Instead, having followed Sans's stare, more people were looking at Flowey now. He flinched. When Asgore's stare followed its way to the flower, he looked as if a death sentence had fallen on humanity.

Flowey felt... strong. Powerful. Tall. This was the power over people that had eluded him. This was the look he had missed, the one on Asgore's face mirrored by so many of those fools in their last moments of life.

A familiar old smile cut its way through his face. "Golly!" he said, instantly putting his cutest voice-- old habits die hard. “I think...”

It seemed. So. Easy. He knew he would have ended humanity in a heartbeat. He would have. ‘Flowey’ would have. Flowey, which wasn’t a given name by any being to any creature or object in known history, not because it was obscure but because it was so stupid. It was endearing in a stupid way, which was the image he came up with for himself-- subconciously after speaking with Asgore or before meeting Papyrus. He didn’t intend for that to become ‘Flowey’s whole personality; it just seemed convenient to manipulate people.

When he got rid of that, what remained? Press that button, get that response, a voice taunted him. He was so simple. He was as simple as the rest of them.

Sans's words stuck in his mind-- did he really think this would bring them back? Did he--

"No! I'd never doubt you, Chara!" Asriel had said, once. The sentiment, the meaning-- those he'd repeated more than once.

The realization that Chara had also never had a friend by their side had intensified Asriel's need to support them. Chara gave them a genuine smile even if they were bedridden. "Th-thank you," they said. "I don't... I don't want to be alone... on this."

"I... think..." he was saying-- and he was here, he was present. If ‘Flowey’ was anything, he was here, he wasn’t in the past, he wasn’t Asriel, he wasn’t. 

The words fought their way out of his throat. He forced himself out of the older memories only to find himself faced with those fresher, those that felt less like an old dream and felt more like a reality staring him in the face with terror:

"-- if the humans knew how nice you were, they wouldn't have been scared of you," Flowey finished from memory.

"... Yes, like that," Asgore said. "In all honesty... I wanted to believe that too. That it was a misunderstanding. Which would have made my children happiest? To have made humanity pay for their crimes against us, as Chara so agonized over? Or to have forgiven humanity and made my people as happy as possible down here, as Asriel so wished?"

"it's okay," Sans said, his voice sounding oddly genuine. He seemed conflicted, but said something that he knew would seem odd to everyone except Flowey: "take your time. this is permanent."

Even the word felt alien-- 'permanent'. There was no taking it back or resetting and seeing what the other route had in store. This was it. This would affect smiley trashbag's life. His own life. Asgore's life.

Chara's life. Chara’s “life”. He rolled the words back and forth in his mind, not sure if he added the quotes in his mind or not.

He resisted the urge to look around again to see if they were watching. How could this situation even occur without their influence? This had to be a test, right? A punishment. A punishment for betraying them again, a punishment for getting weak.

In this world, it's kill or be killed. How many times had he said it? How many times did he lose sleep trying to figure out why these idiots couldn't understand that other people always left you and betrayed you and the only way to avoid it was to need nobody but yourself?

Peace. Yeah, right. He'd like to see what any of those no-voting tree-huggers would do if they got seven SOULs. Power corrupts. Just ask Asriel.

Asriel-- and then he had a vision of a time long ago. Chara, helping brush a knot out of Asriel's fur. It was something the young monster couldn't do himself-- whenever he poked the knot, he let out a little cry of pain. But, of course, he had the habit of doing so over and over again because it was there and soon it was up to Chara to take care of it.

When they finished, Asriel had jumped up and posed before the mirror. "Ta-da! How do I look?"

"Rather sharp, if I do say so myself," Chara had said. Their smiles had been kinder then, more frequent, less strained.

But-- their sleeves always were rolled all the way down, and they tugged at them constantly as they played, scrubbing out the slightest stains of red until their fingers bled anyway, making the point moot. 

Asriel didn’t notice these things yet. He wasn’t observant. He didn’t have to be.
 
"Hey, um... is it bad that I never help brush the knots out of your hair?" Asriel had asked.

"You don't need to help me with that," Chara had said, amused.

"Isn't it not fair I make you do it for me?"

"Nonsense," Chara had said. They struck a similar goofy pose as Asriel had to make the boy laugh again, and then his laugh became their laugh, and soon they were laying back on the floor together probably tangling their hair up again anyway. "You're my best friend. I'll always take care of you."

And then it turned to dust through his fingers.

Which Chara was the one Flowey had needed to appease?

When they had threatened him with a knife, they had opened their eyes. This, Flowey didn't want to admit, but it had scared him more than death-- that he didn't recognize them. Not just because he thought the human was possessed, but he didn't recognize them at all. The fear that he had misunderstood Chara's SOUL and misattributed it to some random human that could care less if they stepped on his corpse... no amount of lifetimes could have prepared him for that.

"I... I abstain," Flowey said so suddenly the words surprised even him. "I don't know."

God, he sounded like an idiot in the back of the room called on by the teacher. The Underground held its breath; the air was thin with the judgement of those around him. He really was just a stupid little flower.

"So... that's it? Nothing?" said the Snowdin shopkeeper.

"If we can't agree. Then yes. Nothing is all we have," said Snowdrake's father. 

He expected outright hatred, but the silent judgement of many around him cut him deeper. It was too familiar-- a many-sided mirror.

Flowey didn't look up to see Asgore's face, but could hear the relief in his tone. "Then this discussion shall be put aside for now. It is understandable we could not reach a consensus in the current climate. For now, let us focus on healing before we make our next move."

The crowd murmured amongst itself. Some sounded happy, some disappointed, but at least there was no rock-throwing and shouting this time. Just as Flowey was about to relax, Catty spoke up.

"Um, sorry to like, ruin the mood, but--"

"-- what about the last human's SOUL? Do you not have, like, seven?" Bratty concluded for her.

Everyone started to speak up at once, as if they all had the same question. Asgore had to speak up to quiet them. "It is simple," Asgore said. "I do not have the seventh SOUL. This is because I was not the one to--"

He paused. All his subjects watched intently, curious on the fate of the human that had taken so much from them. Gerson put a hand on his shoulder, his strong stare leaving a trail of words unspoken. 

But then Asgore’s eyes turned to Sans on the outskirts of the crowd, and Flowey’s eyes followed-- to Sans, the guy who cared about nothing, who never chose his words with more thought than it took to order a meal, who had a relaxed smile whether shaking your hand or ending your life, poised as if ready to flee with his eyes wide and his teeth clenched. 

The three of them shared this, whether they knew it or not. After the loss of Asgore’s children, the line of sympathy as long as the kingdom became unbearable halfway through. Without Toriel, he had nobody whose comforts he truly wanted. 

After the loss of Chara- after the loss of Asriel, even- Flowey wanted not Asgore’s comforts or Toriel’s. He couldn’t feel the warmth of either.

Now Flowey looked at Sans, for some reason ashamed of having killed someone, even if it was absolutely the most clean-cut ‘kill-or-be-killed’ life-defining textbook example of planet Earth there was, and wondered if he knew him at all.

"Pardon me. I mean to say I do not have the seventh SOUL because I destroyed it," Asgore said. "I did not harvest it because the SOUL of a being so wicked could not be used. You understand, do you not?"

Everyone seemed satisfied by the answer. When Asgore to Gerson, he was nodding, too. 

Flowey had turned in the other direction. Yet another time, his and Sans’s eyes met. Yet another time, they both knew. Sans knew Flowey worked with the human. Nobody else did. Flowey knew Sans killed the human. Nobody else did. 

Sans knew that outing him to Asgore mattered to Flowey more than any amount of reflection could. Flowey knew that calling Sans out now, in his deepest moment of repression, would shatter him more effectively than doing so any other time could-- the difference of a sharp tool to a window versus a blunt one.

They both knew. They both could destroy one another and leave behind nothing in the smoking crater besides their deep, coal-black resentment and shame. ‘Flowey’, whoever that was to the creature inhabiting the flower, would have done it in a heartbeat.

But he said nothing.

"If there are no further questions, I shall adjourn this meeting," Asgore said. "It is late, and if I am correct, we have a large celebration tomorrow."

Some applause at this. Cheers, smiles. This had been missing from monsterkind. If anyone was to restore it, Flowey admitted, it was that goober.
Back when he had thrown Alphys's noose before the crowd, they all looked at one another as if wondering who would be next.

"If I am needed, I will be staying right here from now and on. Not literally, of course, as it is rather cold..."

"Yo, the inn just had an opening!" Monster Kid called out.

"Do you have king sized beds?" Asgore asked. He seemed surprised when everyone started laughing. "I am too large for regular beds..."

"Right this way," the innkeeper said, leading the way. A few members of the crowd followed him, making small talk, reporting their successes in New Snowdin. Others went back to work setting up for the celebration. The crowd largely dispersed one by one until only Sans and Flowey remained in place.

"so..." Sans said. "i appreciate all you did back there."

Flowey snorted. "Big whoop, I refused to vote. A person without conviction has nothing."

"it didn't end in anyone dying, so there's gotta be something right there," Sans said. "that was a good step. but you know that wasn't what i was talking about."

The skeleton had calmed down tremendously since Asgore lied that the seventh SOUL was destroyed in his fight with them. Flowey tilted his head. "So, now you're afraid of admitting it, Mr. 'I Killed The Human'?"

Sans just shrugged, because of course he did. His eyes were closed either in the facade of thought or maybe he was trying to hold back those scary eye tricks. "you already knew i did. they didn't."

"I don't understand," Flowey said. "If they knew, everyone would respect you for once. Aren't you tired of being the village idiot?"

"there's plenty of murderers and cheats. there's only room for one good idiot per village. nobody likes the 'village murderer'."

He gave Flowey a look that could only be described as saying 'You Would Know'.

"Whatever, weirdo," he said, pretending as if he didn't notice. "In payment for not telling anyone, you won't go blabbing to Asgore about what I did, right?"

"c'mon, kid," Sans said. He was looking down at Flowey as if the flower were a small child wearing his father's oversized shoes-- embarrassed but charmed on some level. "i already wasn't going to."

Flowey huffed. "Wow! Since when do you keep your promises?"

"hey, first time for everything."

"Really? Honestly?" Flowey asked, squinting as if to find the punchline. "I don't understand you."

"guess we have that in common," he said.

Flowey rolled his eyes. As soon as he was about to just up and leave, Sans interjected: "hey."

"What?"

"it's not too far-fetched. we have more in common than you might think."

"Besides 'murderers who should be dead'? Golly," Flowey said, putting on a grin that didn't meet his eyes. "you're full of surprises!"

The last words hung in the air. He had put on one of his few expressions, the one that indicated Thinking Just Enough To Let You Know. Knowing the skeleton was more shrewd than he let in on, Flowey saw all the other thought in even his laziest expressions. He wondered if Sans did, too.

"did asgore... say something to you?" Sans said. "something a little like... 'smiling to cover your pain will leave you with nothing inside.'"

The faux-smile dropped from his face as if his own mask slipped. He struggled for an expression and settled on pure, raw confusion. "How did you...?"

There was the slightest kick in the snow, like he had done in their conversation earlier. "he told me the same thing."

Moths gathered around one of the streetlights with a single-minded intensity. Flowey eyed them, wondering what it had been like to go about life so simply. Here he was, talking with the most annoying and broken toy out of any timeline, who thought they were friends or similar or something. As if he understood him.

As if Flowey even understood himself. The idiot.

He felt as if, the more masks he wore from reset to reset, the more his established 'self' that he could always return to crumbled. The more he tried to break away the emptiness, the stronger it became in return, like a muscle.

He wondered how many times he would have to start over before he could be the type of sibling Chara deserved-- or, the type of person he himself wanted to be. He knew who the first person was. He didn't know the second.

Sans looked at his wrist where a watch would be. "anyway, it's getting late. guess i'll be heading back home."

"Don't let me stop you," Flowey mumbled.

"hey, though. when you're ready to talk more... don't be a stranger," he said. He turned as if he wanted to walk off, but stopped awkwardly halfway, and turned to Flowey again. His voice sounded the same as always- his words lazy and stringing together, always in a sigh from the bottom of his throat- but there was something off that Flowey couldn't identify.

(Only later would he identify it as a rogue chord that had found its way into both their tones and had thrown them astray-- this vague idea of mercy. The olive branch twig in their throats, perhaps.)

"papyrus told me once that he made a friend who was willing to help him calm down from a panic episode. he rarely admitted he had one, even if it happened right in front of me. you must've either done something really special or have helped him more than once. maybe both."

Flowey blinked. To be honest, he didn't remember this, but he had exhausted so many options he believed it had been true. But why? It surely wasn't out of the kindness of his non-existent heart. Just to see what would happen? To maintain his friendship facade with Papyrus?

Or had he acted on instinct, like a moth guided to a light? Or, perhaps, 'muscle memory'?

"at first, i didn't think it was you. i didn't even think it was you when you panicked in front of me, too," he said. "but... hey. i guess i can see where you might be tricked into doing a good thing here or there."

"I hope you choke on a hot dog and die," Flowey said.

Sans laughed sharply and abruptly like he was punched. "you too, pal," he choked out, laughing still, wiping a nonexistant tear from his eye.

It was... odd. Usually he reserved himself to a little chuckle or a type of quiet mirth in his eyes. Flowey hadn't seem him outright burst into laughter in a number of timelines.

He and Flowey both liked to mess with others. Sans in less harmful ways than he, but the most staunch difference was the reaction. After a prank, Sans might let out an aforementioned chuckle or grin. Right before a murder, Flowey might let out an maniacal laugh.

But neither of them found it actually funny.

Sans was gone when Flowey looked again, making him briefly wonder if it had been a hallucination. The idea of helping Papyrus through a panic attack burned at the forefront of his mind.

In the past, Flowey had described resetting as waking up from a dream. It was hard in that sense for him to develop a lasting grudge against Sans or anyone for that matter-- he would have relished even that type of connection to someone. When he looked back on his actions, he felt as if someone else had done them-- and he hoped he'd die long before his sins caught up with him.

It was through this, he realized now, that helped him distance himself from Asriel. He felt he knew better now. He had learned from his long punishment as a flower. He had come to understand the true meaning of the world. This sentiment stayed true no matter how many times he awoke in that garden.

And now here he was, finding himself contemplating ideas like trust again.

He cast a glance back at the inn where Asgore had rented a room. A familiar panic raced through his body and he forced himself to look away, to take a breath. There was that-- a connection. A feeling for someone. He absolutely despised it with every fiber of his being, but it was there, raw and vulnerable.

He wasn't Flowey. He had avoided mirrors, puddles, all of the same things Chara had. He at times still stumbled when introducing himself. He once thought he felt ready to cast away this last thin layer of 'identity' and die again for Chara.

But he wasn't Asriel, either. The idea of confessing his past again felt like confessing to a murder he never committed; he'd sooner tell Asgore his long list of crimes and stop at saying Chara's name as the first death he was responsible for.  And on that note, he just couldn't trust Sans wouldn't change his mind and tell Asgore that his precious son Asriel had killed and tortured and, on top of it all, enjoyed it. If he really "loved" Asgore, wouldn't he let him have his sweet little idea of Asriel in peace?

Wasn't it better he went through this so others didn't have to? That nobody else knew the hints of Chara that shone like a beacon within the murderous human's SOUL? That nobody else knew how Asriel's stupidity had caused monsterkind to suffer far longer than the sharp release from suffering that the human brought them? Wasn't it better?

Chara. Chara. Chara. It all, in the end, centered around Chara. Without them, he was nothing. He was less than nothing. Just one simple lapse of thought and the world would revolve backwards and, when he died, he would live on not even in thought. And, being not a monster, he wouldn't even live on as dust under a monster's foot.

Just a regular flower.

He wouldn't realize for a while that Sans shared a similar dilemma: he was the only one who remembered a man nobody else could. And he wouldn't realize the folly of it all behind this, that there was a bond that connected them already before they ever met.

Chapter Text

Asriel stood in the doorway until Chara's violent coughing subsided to just blood dripping from the corner of their mouth. The time was midnight and Chara had only died halfway, but Asriel had died a thousand times before he even thought of the name 'Flowey'.

"It's not working."

The words dragged like chains out of their parched throat. The door clicked shut behind Asriel and the thin strand of light from the hall narrowed, trying but unable to reach the bedridden child. Asriel held his hand over the buttercup flowers in his pocket, the outlines of every petal burned into his palm.

He would have said it looked like it was working, but their impatience spoke louder than their illness. Pills that had been hidden under their tongue and spat out as soon as their parents left the room were speckled under the bed like stars on a dark, dusty sky; he also made out the faint scent of the carefully-brewed tea that had been dumped, likely in one nonchalant motion, into a potted plant.

The boy stepped closer and brushed aside their sibling’s sweat-soaked bangs, putting his hand to rest against their forehead. The warmth radiated on his hand even after he pulled away, tracing limply down their face, past the eyes that didn't move even with a nail a hair away from them, past the red stain adorning their cracked lips, down to the faintest open cut on their neck.

To anyone else, it might have looked like an accident. A badly popped zit or a rogue plucked hair or any number of things that could happen to a human.  But to Asriel, it was a conversation. A struggle that had not been won or lost but had merely stopped.

Asriel scooped up the unwanted pills and tucked the whispering blade further beneath the mattress, silencing its seduction. He met Chara's eyes, which had finally turned to him. He clenched his fist around the pills, crushing them in his hand.  And with them he crushed another conversation, all the words matted in the fur of his palm.

Even Asgore must have known the medicine was useless sugar pills. So why did Chara even bother to spit them out? Because they knew Asriel would pick them up? Or because they wouldn't take the slightest chance of not having a death as excruciating as possible?

He reached into his pocket, then held out a thumb on his other hand and wiped clean the stain of red from Chara's mouth. As he pulled back, he dropped the flowers into their cupped hands. Their lips spread slowly into a smile.

Just what best friends were for.

Asriel was as sure of a response as pain to an injury. Before Chara had even realized how badly they'd scraped their knee, Asriel was there, a flurry of hands and promises. Chara's mind was still reeling at how quickly he appeared before realizing he'd sprinted off to find help. He soon returned with Toriel, but even while she helped clean and bandage the knee, it was he who whispered the words of encouragement and comfort.

That had been the first time he had seen their blood-- just a simple accident. But when they fell from the surface, no trace of them remained, as if they had control over whether blood spilled or not.  

No-- that was silly.

Wasn't it? It's not like he knew much about humans. Humans to him had for a long time been handwaves and guilty looks and mentions of someone Asriel only knew by the word 'poncho'.  

And so he just smiled back, because that's what friends did.

"I need to do this," Chara said.

"It will work," Asriel said.

"It will."

They both sounded as convinced as they could without letting the other know of their doubts. Asriel's were of himself. Chara's, he couldn't be sure of. In the future, he would think they were a mastermind who had orchestrated everything down to the amount they bled.

Not someone who perked the petals of the flowers before swallowing them whole. 

Asriel could smell the sharp antiseptic as if the knee-scraping had been yesterday and not a lifetime ago. Chara hadn't complained it stung until far after the bandage had been put on their knee, and with the knife in their hand, Asriel wasn't sure if they were speaking to him or not.

He wasn't sure for how long he knew that Chara inflicted far worse injuries on themself. Maybe he walked in on the stench of blood which he'd first encountered that day. Maybe the empty slot in the knife block on the kitchen counter sang siren songs of secrets and doubts he couldn't voice.

He didn't run to get mom. There were no words of encouragement, comfort, anything. Multiple times he'd broach the subject. Multiple times they would pretend they didn't hear, or glower at him in a dark way that he last saw before closing the eyes on their body as he laid it to rest.

The first time Asriel realized the depth of his involvement in Chara's self-harm was while slamming his own nose into the door immediately after hearing his parents worrying over a bloody tissue in the kids' bedroom.

He had run to face them just as the excuses had begun to form in Chara's mind.  Toriel held a tissue to his nose and told him to lean his head up to combat the nosebleed, forcing him to finally part his eyes from the shock in theirs.

For weeks he had wondered if he had done the right thing. The pungent copper-like scent stopped hanging over their room. Chara looked away whenever he faced them. They stopped teaching him all the constellations they knew before bed, and he stopped being able to identify patterns in their eyes.

As if in apology, a knife gleaming as if thrice-scrubbed had reappeared in a kitchen drawer that Toriel thought she had checked. Chara still rubbed their upper arm when deep in thought, but their hand fell limp to their side when they saw Asriel looking.

But here they were, in the middle of the night, unwanted medicine crushed in Asriel's hand, rashes from the poisonous flowers in the other, and a knife's kiss adorning Chara's neck in place of their locket. And for once Asriel questioned at what costs came 'determination'.

"It's too late," Chara said, their face grim, punctuated by a stray petal in their lips. "We cannot turn back now."

"I know," Asriel said, his voice a squeak. He wasn't sure what response they wanted, because his understanding seemed to just upset them more. Their nails dug at their upper arms as if trying to find a way in.

Chara finally pulled the blanket to their chin despite their temperature, their knuckles white gripping it. The two of them once pretended that nightmares couldn't get you if you hid far enough under the covers. Sure enough, when Asriel would wake up startled in the middle of the night, he always had a foot or an arm peeking out.

But he didn't dream anymore.

"I... wish I did not have to involve you," they admitted. This weakness bore its head from the carcass of harsh words and harsher ones directed to themself when they thought he couldn't hear.

Asriel started to speak but paused. He had rehearsed these lines while in the bath, while doing his chores, while brushing his teeth, while fetching more flowers, while watching them die. He had inhaled syntax and exhaled diction.

But instead of any of those, he said: "I don't like helping you hurt yourself."

Their eyes narrowed. Asriel flinched back, but all they did was grip their arm again. "The faster we do, the faster it will be over."

"Right," he said, tracing his stare back up from their neck to their face. "Faster."

Flowey, in the far flung future, considered the significance of every action as if it were a scene from famous literature and not a scrawl lost to time. Had the pills on the floor been a test for Asriel to see if he would pick them up? Chara already knew he would-- he had done so dozens of times already.

Were they waiting to see if he would snap? Did they cut themselves more to see if he would find the courage to speak up? He didn't know. By the time they became one being, they were further apart than they ever could have been.

Chara gripped his hand suddenly, far harder than they intended, tracing their thumb over every blister that the rogue petals had caused. At first, they had insisted on picking all the flowers for the plan. But then it became his job, first because Chara wanted to know for sure if the flowers would hurt him too, and then because he preferred it were his hands dirtied and not theirs.

These conversations needn't be spoken since he first slammed his nose into the door for them.

Chara forced the petals down and held them in their mouth like candy, as if enjoying the blistering bitterness. "Get more, Asriel," they said, their voice weakening by the second. "Make yourself useful."

He slipped his hand out from theirs. Their hand fell limp to their side, and for a moment he thought their life had ended right then and there.

"I..." he said and stopped. He considered his blistered hand, then their face drained of all color except for the reopening lip wounds, then their bed that had been long forsaken in favor of making him sleep elsewhere because Chara was 'too sick'.

(He had come in and sat on it a few times, knocking the pillows off or ruffling the sheets. It was immaculate when he came back in, sometimes even when he visited before their parents did.)

The last word in the conversation was the click of the door behind him again. He picked the peeling skin on his hands, leaving behind a little trail of himself in the wind.

Asriel was as sure a response as pain to an injury. But just like pain, Chara acknowledged them both with a dark look that shadowed who they used to be. 

"Please, Asriel," he heard again in his mind, as he counted his steps. "Please, just..."

---

"What did you do with the place?"

Sans didn't look up from his spot on the couch, as if he had been expecting a talking flower to pop through his floor. "nothing special," he said. "fed the pet rock."

"It looks... clean in here," Flowey said. Not that Papyrus hadn't kept things tidy while leaving firm reminders for Sans to do his part-- it's just that Sans seemed to have finally, in fact, done his part. "Is this the right house?"

"to be honest with you, i keep asking myself the same question."

And a silence fell, as if a new conversation hadn't started but their last one had merely lapsed for a time. As far as Flowey could tell, it was getting late; other monsters went to bed early after the meeting with Asgore. But there were the two of them, wide awake-- neither quite comfortable enough to relax but neither quite tense enough to outwardly show stress.

Also, it smelled like sweat.

"do you want some chips?" Sans asked. He gestured to an unopened bag that he seemed to be about to enjoy. "i got some earlier. sour cream and onion."

All Flowey could think was how, if Papyrus were here, he would have poured an acceptable serving into a sharing-sized bowl and set it on a placemat, maybe even with redundant forks and knives. "No," he said.

Sans had already opened the bag and started eating directly from it. "your loss," he said, spraying crumbs across the floor.

He ate them with gusto only matched by Chara in their deathbed stuffing as much poison down their throat as possible.  

For the next few minutes, the conversation consisted of Sans chomping and Flowey's shifting in place. When he thought about it, Flowey felt weird about being in an enclosed space like a house. A space belonged to someone who owned it by deed and handshake rather than theft and murder. The last time he'd had his own space was when Asriel had his bedroom.

This before, of course, a child fell and then they shared everything, right up to a body.

Now here he was, wondering what Chara would think of him sleeping in the dirt like a bum. But then again, he was a flower. What was he going to do, apply for a lease? No, no, the snow outside suited him better anyway. The raging frost burned and stung and then after a while, he felt nothing again and saw nothing but white. It was easier that way: not thinking, just acting, whether on two legs or on a stem.

And his thoughts drifted, again, to the flower pot.

"didja come over to talk about anything in particular?" Sans asked, picking a chip crumb out of his finger bones. "or you just can't get enough of me?"

"I don't have anyone else to talk to," Flowey said. He intended it as an insult, although it came out far more pathetic than he had hoped for. A few potential insults came to his mind, and he prepared one at the tip of his tongue, then something held it back as if it wasn't worth the energy the words would take to say.

(Words-- idly, he realized how long it had been since he had last  changed his face or his voice, as if hoping that after long enough of refraining, his own would come forth. But if it ever did, would he like it? Or would he go back to faking it?)

"okay," Sans said.

"Okay," Flowey said.

"okay," he said, one more unnecessary time, giving Flowey an odd look.

The two sat for a time. A gust of wind rattled the shutters. Sans rolled up his bag of chips. To Flowey's amazement, he produced a bag clip and sealed the bag with it rather than just leaving it open like he would have in the past. Occasionally the din of voices, laughter, reared its head outside but never stayed long enough to lift the silence of two people who robbed one another of the only ones to whom they could tell anything.

"What did you mean back there?" Flowey finally asked. "When you said 'sorry'."

Sans looked as if he wasn't sure if this was a joke or not. "it meant, uh, 'sorry'."

"Don't make fun of me!" Flowey snapped. "You wouldn't just say sorry! That's not you. I know you! What are you trying to pull on me?"

And then, Sans looked as if he realized this wasn't a joke and it made him all the more uncomfortable. "pull on you? i don't know what you're talking about."

"Laughing all happily, hanging out with that kid, helping those girls with their stupid tapes... I don't get it!" Flowey spat. He held himself as if ready to dodge a bone attack or a blaster at any second, but the only threatening things in the room was his reflection in the window and the absence of his own voice. "I don't get your angle! So just give it up, okay?! What's this act?"

It felt like a rock was sinking in Flowey's stomach, only weighted furhter by the pathetic look Sans was giving him-- as if Flowey were a starving dog snapping its jaw, too weak to get up and walk to food.

"it's called... being nice," Sans said, his brows furrowed, rubbing the back of his head. "you should give it a try sometime."

Flowey threw his head back and gave an overblown laugh. A manic energy pulsed in his mind. "Gosh, you must think I'm stupid!" he said. "Nice? You? That sure is a joke! Wasn't it you who killed the human? 'do you think anyone can be a good person if they just try?'"

He laughed again and spat on the ground; his eyes were misted with angry, childish, stupid tears. "Bullshit. You knew that kindness was a waste of time! That was the only smart thing about you! You knew that we only had a limited amount of time before it all reset and we were sent back like a bunch of idiots, none the wiser! I know how you really are! So what is this act?! I don't understand what you're trying to pull on me, but when I figure it out..."

"buddy," Sans said, unable to keep his eyes on Flowey. "do you really think this is about you?"

It felt as if all the adrenaline in his mind came to a screeching halt. He squeezed his eyes shut- a fear reflex, because crying only makes the pain worse- and when he opened them again, he wasn't sure if he was in the same world. Same room. Same people. Same timeline. But he felt his fingers being pried off his world view, one by one.

"What did you just say?"

"i asked if you think this is about you," Sans said. "my 'kindness'. do you think i'm just being nice to fool you?"

It sounded so stupid when he put it like that. But what else could he expect? Sans knew the truth about his wretched personality. Sans had a grasp on the unstable nature of the timeline. Sans was an ever-changing variable, not like the others he had met since his rebirth. Every time Flowey thought he completely understood him, he realized he had been chasing ghosts the whole time, the taste of buttercup on his tongue.

"Well... yeah?" Flowey said.

"i feel bad for you," Sans said. The genuine sympathy worked its way inside and burned unmatched in his empty heart. "you taught me i wasn't the only one grieving. i've come to see it's really true. everyone else is the star of their own show, and these days, they're all tragedies. people need a smiling face and a well-timed joke in times like these."

A silly pose, hairbrush in hand-- a pair of bright shirts that matched except for the rust-colored stains up in the inner sleeves, which Chara only let him see when they left it behind to bathe--

"but even after you taught me that, you still think it's all about you?" he asked. And just a second stole itself away from the timeline and was replaced with a gleaming knife, a swaying locket and an empty look in the human's eye. They marched on towards him with only enough intent to cross his name off a list. This wasn't betrayal, this wasn't fratricide, this was the natural result of the world Flowey had built.

And, when Flowey looked up at the human in shock, they only looked down at him as if asking who in hell he thought he was.

"You... you think I'm stupid?" Flowey asked, backing away defensively. "You think I'm an idiot. That's it, isn't it?"

"how'd you get that conclusion?" Sans asked. He held up his hand as if to show he didn't mean any harm, but Flowey still found himself looking around to see if Sans summoned an attack. "hey, kid, i'm just saying i'm not being like this to trick you. i didn't mean--"

"You didn't mean it?!" Flowey snapped. "You didn't 'mean' it! Of course you didn't 'mean' it! Who could hate you? Everyone loves you more than they love me! It's not your fault! I know it's not your fault!"

"How could you be so stupid?" the words burned like a beacon in his mind. He'd repeated them to himself so many times he gradually stopped hearing them in his voice, instead hearing it twist and tangle until he thought he heard it from thin lips and rosy cheeks. And now he couldn't be sure if they had ever been spoken to him or if the only person in the room trying to trick him was himself.

So much of Asriel's world had been tied in vines, hiding everything that didn't fit. It was, in the end, no wonder that he had lost his arms and legs and fur and snout when reborn; all of them had been spirited away in order to leave the so-called 'perfect' creature that Chara had always wanted.

But, in exchange, he had stolen bits and pieces of Chara's body rather than carrying it home and left only the parts that he had wanted to see.

The Chara that had cut through the vines liked brushing his hair for him in the morning and teaching him how to get a fingerful of chocolate frosting off of the top of a cake without looking like you did. They liked running races and always 'accidentally' slowing down at the end so Asriel would pull ahead and win.

The Sans tangled in vines wanted him dead, was always analyzing, was a wealth of untapped scientific knowledge but threw it all away, was always leaning on his brother to whom, Flowey had said more than once, could accomplish so much more without the little blue slob.

The Sans that was looking down at him now would lift Monster Kid on his shoulders so they could put a hat on their snowman and cleaned the house so Papyrus might be happy from beyond the grave. Flowey had realized long ago how much the skeleton brothers had been leaning on one another- knock one down, the other followed- but he only now realized it required so much more love to stand taller after losing the other rather than falling down as well.

And so which Chara was the real one? Which Sans was the real one? It was a puzzle he would have gladly asked his friend for help for if there was more left of him than a red scarf and a weary look in Sans's eye.

"... i feel bad you were just watching me all that time," Sans said now. "i'm sure asgore or someone would've loved to talk with you. crazy son of a gun loves flowers, even if they're... odd.

"Wh-what about you?" Flowey retorted, straining to keep a smile on his face-- because he didn't know what he was beyond that. "Haven't you been avoiding him?"

"it's hard when someone knows a secret you don't want them to, isn't it?" Sans said. "especially when that someone is so darn nice about it that you can't feel upset at him."

And again he could feel the flowerpot beneath him. He could smell the tiny cookie, the plant food-laced pie. But he felt rather than saw Asgore's smile had faded as Flowey shouted at him about the SOULs, the kingdom, the plan his children died for.

"i guess i'm a hypocrite too. i thought if the human came back, they'd go straight for him and finish the job. i thought i'd be his royal bodyguard or something. and he does know how to take care of himself. he's just so... nice," he said. "but it's not a binary. nice people vs alive people, or cowardly people vs brave martyrs. alphys, for instance. she was nice and brave."

"And now she's gone."

"sometimes, it's not other people you've gotta worry about the most."

Flowey had begun to wind down from his panicked high, feeling as if the world were slowing with him. The bag of chips was just a bag of chips, and the way it was clipped seemed less a statement on personality to him and more a sign of the convenience of the clip. Sans gave him a small smile and he saw it rather than imagining layers of muscle and pale skin.

"did you know that after we struck out on our own, papyrus checked out a load of parenting books?" Sans began, his hands folded on his stomach. "i didn't even know until i found one lying around. i was just trying to prop up a table leg, and there it was, nearly the whole thing highlighted and so many pages dog-eared that you couldn't have found anything in there. the moral of the story..." Sans closed his eyes. "... papyrus totally ruined that library book."

"Ha ha," Flowey said.

"hey, c'mon, i just wanted to lighten the mood," Sans said, at least having amsued himself. "... he was a really cool guy, my brother. but then again, i'm sure you've talked to him more than i know."

"Yeah. ...He wasn't stupid when he faced the human," he said. "I think he knew it would happen. But he went to fight them anyway, because he believed in them."

Sans nodded. "for a while, i thought i needed to protect him. i practiced my blasters when he thought i was asleep and blamed the holes in the snowbanks on the dogs."

Turned out to be useful, Flowey thought, still able to smell the stench of battle in the judgement hall.

"of course, there he was, reading these books cover to cover when he thought i was asleep. guess it figures," he said.

Flowey reached and picked up one of the books. "Not even from the local one here, huh? This is all the way from Hotland." He raised an eyebrow. "He hated it there."

"he didn't even really know why," he said, a distant look on his face. "to go through all we did and still look out on the world with a genuine smile... after what happened with my dad, i thought he forgot it all, just like everyone else. but he knew things i hadn't even looked forward to face."

And Flowey thought to ask more, to try to pin down the odd variable that was Sans, to learn more about his brother who he thought he knew everything about down to the smallest bruised rib-- but instead he saw smiles that had been painted on just the second after the door had been opened and a knife had been tossed aside, arms that held Asriel and comforted him even as fresh cuts screamed silent words into his ears. And the words unsaid between them were too loud for any of them to speak for a time.

Chara. His identity as Asriel had been based around them, from making the new family member comfortable at home to making their death as painless as possible. Chara. His identity as Flowey revolved around them, around the space where they would be if they were still alive. For a long time he insisted something was there so that he could continue his orbit, denying he was already hurtling further and further into empty space.

"You're weird, you know that?" Flowey said, finally.

"weird but sanssational," he said, seeming satisfied enough at having told his story.  

Another odd variable of this timeline: Flowey found himself laughing. 'Knock knock', he remembered. 'I am knocking.' And he laughed and he laughed and he laughed so hard he didn't realize, in the end, he was crying anyway. But he didn't make a move to wipe them away or conceal them.

Who was looking, really?

"I... still don't get it, and I am not entirely convinced this isn't all a setup," Flowey said. He looked away, unable to meet Sans's eye. "But, uh... thanks, I guess."

"anytime," he said, smiling back.

He thought about slipping out through the crack in the floor again, but the chill clenched its fist around him and held him in place. A moment passed, then another, then he took a breath, then he held it oddly.

"I'm... uh," Flowey said. "It's... sad that... Papyrus isn't here anymore. To see this!" he scrambled, as Sans's brow raised slightly. "You know. Two of his best buds, getting along."

"huh? there must be a little wax in my ear," Sans said, picking at where an ear would be. "could you say that again?"

"I said it's... sad. Unfortunate. That Papyrus isn't here."

"must be the wind. can you try a little harder?" Sans said, the grin spreading on his face, cupping his hand around his non-existant ear.

"I'm... sorry," Flowey spat. "Okay? It's not my fa-- no, I mean, I thought I set the course for the human, but of course they were heading that way anyway. I was scrambling along in their game, not the other way around. But now I miss him too, alright? So I'm... I, uh..."

"eh, good enough," Sans said. "alright. i'll accept that for now. redemption is a journey, not a destination. and i'm beating you, just fyi."

Flowey stuck out his tongue. "You'll see me waiting at the finish line, chump."

"oh yeah?" Sans said. "i'm gonna forgive you so hard, punk, you won't even see it coming."

The two laughed, then. And if you listened close enough, you could almost hear a third voice laughing along with them.

Chapter Text

It had snowed again in his sleep, as if the ground had been lifted and replaced like a white sheet. Gone was the old layer of dirty slush, the muddy footprints of their resettlement, the stains of the tears they shed and the ghosts of dust on their heels.

Color danced across the snow like the auras of fairies. Flowey's stare traced up to the hanging Christmas lights as if truly seeing them for the first time rather than just having made a note of them in an overanalytical mind. At first, only a few houses had them up, and then somehow they were connected so a string of lights hung between the houses-- but then another joined, and another, and soon you could follow them anywhere in Snowdin.

Even though the wall enclosing the town was only half-built, chalk drawings and stockings decorated the cold stone rather than missing person posters that never went answered.  Their own barrier, keeping danger out rather than keeping them in, and construction was put on hold for hot chocolate breaks and snowball fights.

"do you think i'm just being nice to fool you?" whispered the snow angels, the crayon mural of Asgore in a Santa suit, the bulky snowman who wore Sans's old mittens and was wrapped in the cloak given to Monster Kid long ago.

Flowey burrowed down and resurfaced near the west entrance, just past the shop. He didn't know how those idiots had the free time to do this, but the opposite side of the 'Welcome to Snowdin' banner had been painted with names until there was scarcely an inch of white space left. When you looked close, you could make out each one- 'to Snowy, with love', 'to our hero, Alphys', and, in familiar scrawl: 'papyrus, we all miss you.'

And on it went, every missing poster replaced with a convenient cozy memory. A while ago, he would have said the survivors were toys which were just returning to their factory settings. They mourned their missing parts and then hobbled away on phantom limbs as if forgetting their loss with every step.  

Now, Flowey saw they weren't simply continuing as normal with parts of them missing-- they were leaning on one another for support.

He turned away from the sign as if it were mocking him. Why couldn't he have that privilege? It was a carrot he dangled in front of himself, and every time he reached out for it, he held the stick further away in the same motion.

He realized he wasn't alone when he looked up. A ghost was penning a name holding a marker in their mouth. 'Mettaton' had been misspelled with a disproportionate number of 't's, some of which were crossed out with another 't' oddly substituted in. They struggled, oblivious to Flowey's staring for a time.

"I'd lend you a hand there if I had one, pal," Flowey said-- at which point, the ghost promptly dropped their marker in the snow.

"o-oh... i'm sorry... i didn't know anyone else was here and i..." mumbled the ghost, their train of thought vanishing into thin air.

Flowey knew this one's name if only by proximity: Napstablook. Even if they were a ghost by birth (or crying into existence one day) rather than a previous death, their presence had rubbed him the wrong way. Shedding their little tears, floating around with their little ghost body, constantly reminding him of the idea of an afterlife while only a great nothing awaited him once he finally, finally let himself die.

And with their being incorporeal, he couldn't physically harm them, and they were already too depressed to harm emotionally. They had no loved ones who turned on them or betrayed any nasty secrets, either; the only people they seemed to care about were Shyren and Mettaton, and both of them sang like birds but never died as stool pigeons. 

Looking at Napstablook now, Flowey felt they still looked as pathetic as ever, but even the fact they were out here was odd. They usually found spots as far away from others as possible, even avoiding places where others typically gathered, as if allergic. The first place he spotted them was in the Ruins, a 'community' consisting of monsters who all had some kind of issue and dealt with it by avoiding or abusing one another.

But now here they were, not only in a jolly little town that contained all that was left of monsterkind, but in front of some mock memorial with hundreds of voices immortalized before them. And they were struggling to add their own.

He used a vine to hold the marker back up. Something about them still bothered him, but like with myriad other things after his near death to the human, he wasn't sure how to feel anymore. "Let me help. What do you want it to say?"

"uh..... 'mettaton'."

Flowey scribbled out one of the extra letters and added the letter 'n' to the end, effectively killing the brief effigy to 'Mettato'. He held the marker back out to them. "There you go."

"thanks...!" the ghost said. "i was so scared coming out here, but... i met someone else nice..."

For a moment, Flowey almost asked who they were talking about. It's not that he wasn't used to being called nice-- he wasn't used to deserving it. He just shrugged. "It was nothing."

He almost felt a tinge of regret as they stashed the marker away in a bag. But no, no. He didn't need to add Chara's name to the banner. If monsterkind wanted to turn its back on them, then they needed no more remembrance. Flowey did enough remembering as it was.

"what's your name...?" they asked. "i'm napstablook."

He just nodded as if he didn't know that. "You can call me... uh, Flowey," he mumbled. He couldn't be sure if Napstablook's awkwardness was contagious, but the words felt wrong leaving his mouth, as if coated in black tar.

The way they seemed almost peaceful didn't match anything he'd found in previous timelines, either. He knew their name, but when they said it, he overwhelmingly had the sensation of meeting them for the first time.

And so he blurted out: "Can I tell you something?"

"sure...?"

Why are you trying? flowed the words through his body as if through a bloodstream. The festive lights shone green and yellow and red like hazards; the drawings along the wall shifted and laughed and melted like amalgamates; the snowman turned its head around and winked but was back to normal when he really looked. All those names on the banner are people you've killed at least once. Do you think that all this is for you?

And he hesitated. Napstablook was more likely to give up information by accident rather than intentional betrayal, if past timelines meant anything still. Could he trust them with a secret this minor? He had blabbed bigger information to Sans on his own-- could he trust himself?

A kinship sparked with the ghost suddenly: lost, alone, nervous. He saw right through their transparent body and one last 'missing' poster stared back through them, and for a moment, he had an overwhelming feeling of it being for himself.  

And so, painstakingly, slowly, he revealed: "Flowey isn't actually my real name."

"oh... that's fine," they said casually. "napstablook’s not my real name either."

The lights were just dim lights when he looked, and the drawings and snowman hadn't moved an inch. Napstablook's straightforwardness came like a gust of cold, sobering wind. How many timelines had he been through without learning that?

"It's not?"

"no..." they said. "maybe we had others, but my cousins and i left them behind..." Napstablook shifted in place. "but now i can't remember my old one..."

He mulled this over. He could remember his old name, no matter how hard he tried not to. "Huh. I see."

"'flowey'..." Napstablook said, as if trying to get a feel for the name. "it has a nice ring to it... do you like this one better?"

"I... guess so, yeah."

"that's all that matters... names are important," they said. A moment of silence followed before they seemed to make up their mind and continued: "but also, they aren't. my cousin came up with a new one when he went on stage... i thought he changed completely, but he was still the same friend i had on the inside... or, maybe i'm not making sense..."

For some reason, their odd attempt to... comfort him made him chuckle. "It sounds kind of wise."

They gave a tiny smile. "oh... i'm glad..." they said.

Their joy circulated warmth through his body like a heartbeat. It felt... familiar. He used to be like this: solve people's problems, make friends, play nice. But every time his 'friends' said they loved him, in that moment of silence before he said he loved them back, his emptiness grew. Hallower and hallower, emptier and emptier, until he couldn't even tell that lie without his voice leaving as an echo.

"flowey... could i ask you a question?"

He cocked his head. "Sure?"

"do you... um..." they trailed off again, their voice straining as if about to reveal the meaning of life. "oh... do you..."

He leaned in, trying his hardest to look as if there were something they could say that he probably hadn't heard before.

"do you... like... music?"

For some reason, that of all things set Flowey off-- not in anger but in laughter, something so sudden even the fact that he was laughing made him laugh. They had sounded as grim as Asgore announcing he made a mistake declaring war on humanity, and that was it. Music.

"o-oh... i was stupid... i'll go--"

"W-wait!" he said, a tear in his eye. "No! It's not that it sounded dumb-- I mean, it kind of did, but--"

"oh.........."

"No! Listen! Let me be nice, for the love of--" he let out an exasperated gasp. "Yes, I like music. I used to spend hours restarting my music box, in fact!"

"i didn't know flowers have music boxes..."

"We, uh, don't."

"oh......................"

The wind whistled a familiar tune, spitting snowflakes onto his face as if saying stupid, stupid. He was kicking himself. Did he even remember how to be genuinely nice?

He had no idea how he was so patient before he started killing. Solving everyone's problems was at least an intellectual exercise of some kind. He reaped some enjoyment seeing his labor bear fruit after weeks and months of tedious counseling and advice.

Killing, on the other hand, was instant gratification. It was a craving and he was an addict. He could sweeten his hit by drawing it out-- forming a friendship, gaining trust, and then betraying them in their most vulnerable state. But, like any addict, he grew to need more and more until even that failed to make him happy at all.

"I... I'm sorry," he said, slipping for the second time over the foreign word. "I didn't mean to laugh at you. So why did you ask if I like music?"

"well..." They stared down at the ground. "i found a bunch of mix CDs i never released... for when mettaton went live... everyone wanted to find his old recordings to make everyone happy, and i went off to find these."

"Then what are you doing all the way over here?" Flowey asked.

"... i don't know how to explain it," they said. "it's just... everyone misses my cousin... look how many times their name is on there..."

When he looked, it was true-- his name had been written on there several times. Flowey looked back. "So lots of people would be happy to hear something you made for him, right?"

"that's what i thought, but..." they trailed off for a moment. "they... didn't all know him in the same way i did. they saw him on stage, but not behind the scenes too. they loved him so much, but they didn't know him like i did... and he left me one day, just like that. so i wanted to be selfish and keep these to myself, so no one else would hear them... something i had but nobody else did."

"... I understand," Flowey said. "You knew a side of him nobody else did."

"yeah..."

"Lately, I've been thinking..." He paused. "... Everyone sees a person in a different way. Sometimes others see us in ways we do or don't want them to see, but showing others different sides of ourselves leads all around to better understanding. Do you get what I'm saying?"

Napstablook nodded. "i know you're right. i just... want to find some way to say goodbye to my cousins, in my own way..."

"Let's take our time," he said.

Fortunately, the ghost didn't ask what he meant. Instead, they spoke up after another moment of contemplation. "in my family, we always lay on the ground and feel like garbage after a good meal... it's a good time for reflection and, uh, making up music edits in your head... if you want to join me..."

"Are you asking me to have lunch with you?" Flowey asked, smirking.

The subtext went right over (or through?) their transparent, innocent head. "if you want... i only have ghost sandwiches, though..."

"I'm... uh, not sure if I can eat those. I'll skip directly to the laying down," he said. He already had a head start on the 'feeling like garbage'.

They perked a little. "oh...! i can show you my favorite spot out here... follow me. if... you want."

The two of them slipped through the cracks in the wall, slid around heavy snowbanks, trekked through tangled trees. The snow was picking up, but Flowey didn't mind. He had always liked to face it head on just for the sake of sensation.

That was one of the first ways he killed himself, staying out in the snow. As far as suicide, it was passive and pathetic, just like he had been back then. He had sat there and shivered and suffered until all the sensation overwhelmed him and he became fully numb. Just like his last death.

He was shaken from his reminiscence as they reached the top of a hill. There was a clearing in the trees that framed the town like a portrait. He could see all of it from up here, it and its weird horizontal stretched-out structure that made a protective wall so difficult besides the river and the house placement and the trees and the jolly welcoming lights.

That town wasn't meant to be walled in. If he remembered his monster history, it was where many monster nomads settled after leaving Home and celebrated what Asgore just called 'Holly Days'. It started off as a depressing little ice cube until the strength of their sanguine celebrations melted them a little settlement.  
Of course, more and more had left this place to move to the city, only to wind up back here after all. He had wondered at first why Asgore chose this place rather than to remain in the city, with its sensible and spacious layout. But when he saw a serenade of bright lights from Snowed Inn and monsters walking in with wrapped presents and carols, he supposed he understood.

He was so mesmerized, he didn't even notice Napstablook looking at him expectantly. He tried to put on a fake smile for them, but realized he was grinning already.

"I like it up here! Thanks, Napstablook," he said.

If they had cheeks, they would have blushed. "i don't have a lot of friends, so... when i'm not working on the farm, i have time to find places like this..."

His mind swung back on the pendulum to a vision of he and Chara making snow angels and Asriel hurriedly trying to add horns onto his. But then he exhaled, and it was gone with his visible breath. "Are you going to eat your ghost sandwich?"

"you can't eat them, and it would be rude to eat in front of you..." they said. Instead, they laid on their back hovering just above the snow. There was an open spot next to them.

He laid down there on his back, at first sinking into the snow but then settling in. He wasn't sure if he was already getting frostbite or not, but it didn't feel as frigid as he expected.

It was a strange feeling that just on the other side of that distant Underground ceiling were grass, trees, sunshine. He never had asked Chara what had driven them to hate it so much and why they wanted monsterkind to go there so badly if they did. He supposed they saw the big picture, and all he saw was the sparkle in their eyes when they spoke about it.

He was so naive. When they mentioned six souls, he pictured six friends willingly walking hand-in-hand with him to the Barrier. But that didn't happen; humanity attacked as they predicted they would, and he failed to fight back like they should have predicted. Wasn't that what would happen if monsterkind actually went free? Just another eradication like they'd just had a taste of from the human in the blue and pink?

Or was their vision of 'harmony' on the surface actually between monsters and the corpses that would remain?

Whatever it was they saw was gone now, just one of those distant gleaming 'stars' that shone above them. He would never look up and see the same patterns as them, and for some reason, it hurt less than it had for so long before. Their plan had failed. It had failed the first time Chara said they would have to die for it. It had failed the first time Asriel muffled his sobs in his cracked and rashed hands. Chara had long been put to rest but this strange vision of them hadn't been, and the longer Flowey dragged it around, the more he realized that vision were mangled and mismatched parts of the whole.

And so he let out another sigh. A long, tired breath that he saw leave his mouth and raise higher, higher up to the faux stars until he could see it no more. To Chara, he thought. They came from the stars and they returned once more.

When he inhaled again, the air felt crisper and the body it filled felt emptier. But he felt free too, just him and a literal ghost rather than a figurative one.

He sat up after a while, nearly buried in the snow. Napstablook looked over at him. "feel like garbage?"

"I messed it up," he said. Something about his voice was softer, then. More natural. "I actually feel... kind of good."

"i can forgive you for that," they said, standing upright as well. "mettaton used to say that too."

Flowey looked at Snowdin town again. He could almost hear the chatter as the celebration of finally having an official Snowdin town mayor, whoever that was. "I guess we should go," he said. "Don't want to miss the festivities."

They blanched. "maybe i should... er, stay..."

"You don't have to give them those tapes if you don't want," he said. "I know a hiding place where you can stash them away, even. But..." Flowey nodded back at the town. "I think they'll miss you, not those."

"r-really? you think so?"

"I know so."

"then..." They raised their head up, a peaceful look on their face. "let's head back... uh. together."

Flowey looked back one last time as Napstablook led the way back and he choked on his breath. Napstablook was incorporeal whereas he had a very distinctive shape-- but the ground where they had been laying looked as if it had formed a snow angel.

Chapter Text

"he's really not that bad."

The words surprised Flowey more than Sans's last. Briefly, he wondered if Sans knew he was eavesdropping, but Sans was the type who would say something more outrageous for a reaction if he knew someone was listening in.

Besides, it's not like he was being nice just to fool him.

Asgore chuckled. "A tad brusque, but... that is refreshing, in a sense."

"distinct flavor. just like that golden flower tea."

"Do you usually draw comparisons to eating your friends?"

"only when the conversation is gettng tough, like horn of goat."

Asgore patted his horns, too, before realizing it was a joke. Flowey almost laughed but stifled himself. Eavesdropping was a habit born from old timelines, back when his biggest role in most conversations was listening in on them, trying desperately to understand and mimic the nuances of emotion and love in others' tones. Even though people had expressed friendliness towards him now, he couldn't help but listen in just one last time. It felt impolite to interrupt a conversation about himself.

It wasn't sunny outside- of course it wasn't- but it was bright, and the snow was unmarred except for the confetti and the footprints in circles from kids running around playing games, and the amalgamates were playing alongside their many different family members, and people were happy. Birds were chirping, saplings were sprouting, and Asgore had been kicked out of Snowed Inn for splitting the bed in half with his weight alone.

At least, so Flowey thought the story went-- he and Napstablook had only just parted when he stumbled upon Asgore leaving the Inn.

"'Flowey' was his name," Asgore said, "was it not?"

"yep. it's almost as, uh, unique as a name you would come up with," Sans said.

"Really? Well, thank you," he said, missing the point. "In truth... the reason I brought him up was because I have not been able to locate him anywhere."

Flowey turned his head away in shame. Why, to yell at him? To be yelled at some more?

It would be a relief if it was to tell Flowey that he never wanted to see him again. The human's look of apathy had cut him down to the core, but the only thing that would cut him further was the double-edged blade of forgiveness.

There was a moment's paused in which he envisioned Sans giving a shrug. "... i'm sure he'll appear when it's time."

"I have been thinking..." Asgore started. "He is similar to a type of flower that my child, Chara, used to like. I believe they only came from the surface."

Every old instinct screamed to jump out, to distract him, to throw a friendliness pellet his way; every new instinct stopped him, held his attacks back with his breath and the circulation in his little plant body.  

If he really "loved" Asgore, wouldn't he let him have his sweet little idea of Asriel in peace?

"He confided in me he lost his mother, but I had the strange idea," Asgore said carefully, "perhaps his mother was not a flower as well."

His whole world balanced on the point of a needle. But just as he had protected Sans, Sans protected him. "i'm pretty sure that monster-flower relationships are impossible," Sans said, chuckling as if Asgore were completely cuckoo. "and maybe those flowers are from the surface, but they've been growing down here for a while now too, yeah?"

Asgore scratched his chin. "I... suppose..."

"what about the ones in your throne room?" he said, without missing a beat. "y'know, i bet they haven't been watered in a while."

To his relief, he just heard Asgore give a deep chuckle rather than push the point. "That is true. But... even though I weed them and water them, they always turn out quite well regardless. It is as if they can look after themselves. That fact... that is why I am not out looking for Flowey now. I believe he will be okay."

"yeah," Sans said, smiling. "me too."

"Ah, but look at me, blabbing on about my own issues again," Asgore said. "I... never got the chance to apologize, Sans. Just as that flower may be avoiding me now, I feel as if you have been avoiding me too. I am sincerely sorry for alienating y--"

"save it. you're forgiven."

"Huh?" he asked. "Just... like so?"

"it's not your fault. i was being childish," Sans said. "and not childish in a fun way like my bro. i mean childish in a stupid way. because when he died... i dunno. everyone was giving me overwhelming sympathy. like, so much that it meant nothing to me. it made me mad, even."

Suddenly it clicked in Flowey's mind-- he was the only one who didn't apologize to Sans for 'his loss', he didn't ask in that special voice 'how he was doing'. Sure, he mocked Sans until he left the hallway where the fight had occurred, but he did move. And the next time Sans confronted him, Flowey wasn't sure he was talking to the same person.

That time, too, Sans had actually sought him out. Sans's other friends had come to him, not the other way aroudn. Someone had actually remembered Flowey, as if he had a place in the world.

"... when we lost my pops, nobody said anything. the difference was so jarring. i was used to that," Sans said. "the only reason i came out of that isolation was because i was dragged out of it by... some good friends, some bad laughs."

Asgore made a noise of acknowledgement. "... I understand. It's times like these I'm proud to be the king of monsters," he said. "To see how much everyone has supported one another in this time of crisis is outstanding."

"speaking of support," he said, "it's lucky I caught you here, huh? now that you're on the inn's blacklist, you might be looking for a local place to stay."

"Oh, yes, I suppose I am!" Asgore said. "Would you happen to know any such place?"

"you betcha. how about you crash at my place?"

"That sounds rather violent," Asgore said. "May I just sleep there instead?"

A pause, in which Flowey felt Sans was looking into some invisible camera. "sure," the skeleton said. "no problem."

"If you are sure it would not be imposing, that would be wonderful," Asgore said. "Goodness, I have not been a visitor in someone's home in ages! Is it still customary to bring a gift? At what time shall we have tea? Is it still in this decade considered a cultural faux pas to not take off my shoes at the door even if I do not wear any?"

"okay," Sans said. "one: the gift is your lovely smile. two: teatime is anytime. it's called a microwave. three: it's cool, but without shoes, be careful navigating the crumb zone to the bedroom."

Asgore seemed to be making mental notes. "The... what zone?"

"it's a rare mini-ecosystem that only appears after i eat chips."

Some things, Flowey supposed, never changed. The thought comforted him rather than scared him, now-- maybe things would never be the same, but at the same time, they would never be the same. No more resets, no more introducing himself, no more waiting.

He was free.

"I will gather my possessions and be there shortly, if that is all right," Asgore said.

"you betcha. i've got something to get in order, too."

Asgore gave a poorly-restrained giggle. "I need to find my slippers, my favorite hat... and my upgoodfriend."

Flowey practically heard Sans looking off to the side as if looking for a hidden camera. "so, what's. upgoodfriend?"

But Asgore just burst out laughing before he could even finish the joke. Sans was laughing too, and some others nearby found themselves joining in just based on the king doubling over and wiping tears from his eyes from this joke-- and soon, Flowey found himself laughing too. A light laugh, a certain weightlessness in his chest, a little flush on his face.

After the two parted, Flowey rounded the corner of the Inn. Sans just nodded his head a little in greeting, as if he had half-known he was there.

"Howdy! I couldn't help but overhear some of your conversation," Flowey said. "Sounds like you're getting out-joked."

"he's sure giving me a run for my money," Sans said with a grin.

"Uh... thank... you. For what you did," Flowey said. "I'm sure you've figured out... some things by now."

"i'm sure someone else could draw connections between knowing the human from before they fell and being a type of flower from the surface," Sans conceded. There was an odd weariness to his tone. "but i'm not about to stick my nose socket where it doesn't belong."

"... I... understand," Flowey said. "I think. You want nothing to do with it. Even though you know everything. And could make the connections yourself. And even though there's no answers at all to the human..." he trailed off. "I... actually don't understand at all."

Sans just had a gleam in his eye, the way he did when he was thinking up a joke. "follow me."

He started to stroll a little way's away from the Inn. Normally, Flowey was sure that following Sans away from the crowd of people to a secluded area meant he was about to be killed. But he didn't hyperanalyze it, he didn't worry about it-- he hardly even hesitated.

"Hi, Sans!" called out Bratty and Catty, as they passed. "Who's your friend?"

Sans looked down at Flowey, who- even though realizing he was the only one in Sans's company- still did a double take.

('Friends'. How far they had come since they met in that hallway where the human died.)

"this is flowey the flower," Sans said. "he acts tough, but he's a little softie."

"Hey!" Flowey snapped, as the girls giggled.  

"we're going off to see something. we'll meet up later," Sans said.

"Okay!" Catty said. Bratty added, "bye, Sans! Bye, Flowey!"

And Flowey tried to call out 'goodbye' as they left, but something held his voice still. He stayed silent as they passed Napstablook, whose bag was now missing, as they passed Snowdrake's father, who was doing a little routine to his smiling wife, as they passed Gerson, who had fallen asleep in one of the many chairs set up before the stage. He stopped once at Sans's house, but Sans just went onward as if it meant nothing to him.

Finally, they reached the far edge of town that led to Waterfall. Sans was breathing a little heavily. Flowey wanted to ask why they didn't take the tunnel or just use a 'shortcut', but before he could, Sans approached a guard by the gate.

"heya, kiddo. can me and my friend go through?" he asked, placing an emphasis on friend-- not the kind that implied I Am Going To Bury His Body Outside of Town, but a kind that implied You Are My Friend You Miserable Little Whelp.

The guard, Monster Kid, nodded so hard their helmet slipped over their eyes. "You betcha! I'm not s'posed to let anyone out, but..."

"aw, you'll do it for bratty and catty but not for ol' sans?" he said. "i get it. you were charmed by their feminine wiles."

"Th-that's not it!" they sputtered. "I mean, yo... if you leave, you might miss the celebration!"

"we'll be back in two winks of my eyesocket," Sans said.

"Okay," Monster Kid said, a tad reluctantly. They stepped aside so Sans and Flowey could pass.

"thanks a million," Sans said. "don't forget, i owe you a pizza with fries next time. on my tab, of course."

Monster Kid grinned widely, revealing a missing tooth. "Y'think I'll lose another one?"

"only if he forgets to unfreeze the pie before he serves it," Sans said, as he walked through the gate. "say thanks, flowey."

As Flowey moved to pass through the gate, too, he and Monster Kid locked eyes. For a second, there was a spark of recognition they hadn't had before, a flash of fear-- and with the distant cacophony of Waterfall, Flowey was swept back in time too. Monster Kid and the human, staring each other down. The human's hands balling into fists so hard their knuckles ran white and their bones popped--

In my way.

-- Undyne, having sprinted so fast to save them that she didn't notice Flowey in the background, observing. Only then had he been able to tear his eyes off the situation and burrow underground.

It's not that he had been able to feel fear-- oh no, of course not. But something was familiar about the creepy look on the human's face combined with their stoic silence, pressing ever closer to an excitable but ultimately meek child, their emotions a maelstrom that couldn't be understood until swept away in it.

And, back in the present, Monster Kid smiled again. The look on their face betrayed a little tiredness, but also a kind of strength that Asriel had died before being able to display. He forced himself to look away and follow Sans, who was moving on ahead.

The snow picked up, the harsh breeze blowing the dark thoughts out of Flowey's mind. Sans finally stopped walking abruptly and kneeled to the ground, packing some snow into a snowball. Instead of throwing it, he began rolling it along his path.

"you see," he said, grunting a little from the effort, "there's a little pebble i slipped in the center of this snowball. every few feet i roll this, it gets harder to find that pebble because of all the snow."

"Where are you going with this?" Flowey asked. As Sans spoke, the snowball collected more and more snow until it started to resemble the base of a snowman. Flowey remained in place, and soon, Sans had obscured mostly to a silhouette.

"i mean," he said, stopping to wipe sweat off his brow, "that the pebble is truth and the snow is a fun little thing called anxiety. you might know something about it."

Flowey was silent, envisioning the pebble inside the snowball that had become almost as tall as Sans was. This was probably the most work he had seen Sans put into something in a while-- and now, the snowball stood where Papyrus was when he had faced the human.

"the more and more we keep thinking about it," Sans said, pushing the snowball a little further as if to explain by thinking he meant rolling the snowball, "the more obscured the truth gets. the more we can only see the snow. the more i go, 'they have a grip on this timeline' and 'they might still be watching' and 'they left no body behind'."

Flowey realized he, too, must look like a silhouette from Sans's point of view. How fitting, he thought-- what was he besides a lost shadow of what he had been?

"but you know what?" Sans concluded.

"What?"

He raised one fist and slammed it down onto the snowball. Flowey winced as the snowball burst, leaving only a single tiny rock and- of all things- a hot dog in its wake.

"it's never impossible to see through all that," he said. "and get to the truth."

Flowey stared at the rock on the ground. He moved a little closer until it was clear, so small, so simple: Chara is gone. The other human is gone. It was as if it had been before his own eyes the whole time.

He pointed at the hot dog, then. "What's that supposed to be, Mr. Existentialist?"

Sans picked it up and ate it raw off the ground in a bite. "there's always time for a snack."

He rolled his eyes. "Alright, pal."

"you're smiling."

And he realized he, in fact, was. "I am and I hate it."

"papyrus taught me that one, actually," he said. His eyes seemed to sink a little, as if the weight of the memory caught up with him. "after we caught one other individually staying up  one night. both of us were trying to figure out how to take care of each other in hard times."

The snow began to thin out, leaving winking crystals on the ground before them. "... It doesn't get easier, does it?" Flowey asked, after a moment.

"missing someone?" Sans said, still smiling, although his eyes hinted at a deeper sadness. "... no, it doesn't. but sometimes, when you start off winding a bunch of tape into a VHS and you end up singing mettaton acapella, you can think about it differently. not as if you're being haunted, but like you're being watched over."

Flowey and Sans looked at the wall that the townspeople had built. Just past was Monster Kid, on their hero's path. Past that were Bratty and Catty, standing on one another, trying to replace the star on top of the tree. Gerson was probably still sleeping, only waking up to admonish Burgerpants for taking smoke breaks as if he had been conscious the whole time.

"Yeah," Flowey said stupidly, after a while of observing. "I think I know what you mean."

Sans patted the top of Flowey's head. At first he flinched at the motion, but then he accepted the gesture, wincing as his petals were ruffled. "i used to think you were a total creep," Sans admitted. "now? well... i think you're still kind of a creep, to be honest."

Flowey blew a raspberry. "Whatever, Mr. 'hes not that bad'."

"oho," Sans chuckled. "what happened to only overhearing 'some' of our conversation?"

"It's true!" Flowey insisted. "I didn't hear however you got on the topic of me."

"you missed the 5 uninterrupted minutes of roasting you? darn."

"You managed to speak for 5 whole minutes without taking a nap? That must be a new record."

"we're coming up on the mark. i bet i can beat my time," Sans said, again looking at his bare wrist as if there were a watch there.

And the two continued their banter for a short time, breaking out into fits of laughter here and there, the town glowing beyond the wall they had tried to build. He couldn't say he loved Asgore, or Sans, or any of them-- but he would admit he could like them. A shared laugh here and there, a few moments laying on the ground together feeling like garbage: that wasn't so bad, he guessed.

"i could've made this point in town," Sans said, looking at the area where Papyrus had been killed, and for a moment seemed as if about to reveal some type of emotion-- and then just shrugged. "not enough good snow, though."

"Sure," Flowey said. "Are you going back?"

Sans held his breath. He looked as if all he wanted to do in the world was head back into town and take a nap, maybe have another snack, but something held him back.

"one thing," he said, unable to look Flowey in the eye.

Flowey raised a brow, but Sans didn't continue at first. Then, slowly, he reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out a familiar heart-shaped locket.

"this is the only thing the human left behind," he said. "the chain broke during the fight. when they were gone, i picked it up without thinking."

His eyes locked onto the necklace until they dried in the wind, and then he closed them. Even in the darkness behind his eyelids, he could see the locket swinging. He could remember the feeling of it draped around his neck and resting over his heart. He had never been able to locate his own after he died, not in countless timelines, but Chara's had been left behind along with the rest of their corpse.

"i was so angry at first. i wanted to destroy it," he admitted. "but holding onto it was the only thing for a while that kept me sane. it made me remember the world wasn't resetting. i thought i would have the chain fixed, but it didn't feel right. it's not my necklace. so..." He held the locket out. "i think you should have it."

"Are you sure?"

"this isn't a joke," Sans said, his voice perfectly level. "i promise."

Flowey reached out with a vine- hesitantly at first, as if Sans were going to laugh and hit him with an attack- but when Sans stood firm  with his arm outstretched to show he meant no tricks, he finally took the locket. It flipped open, revealing two smiling kids.

How long had it been since he had last seen their face-- longer, still, as he made himself repeat timeline upon timeline until he no longer could name the year. He turned and traced a vine over the picture of Asriel, as if he could wipe away the welling tears (of laughter, not of despair) in his eyes.

Chara had committed their share of sins. They had hurt him. They had hurt themself. They left a trail of blood and petals in their wake.

But, on the other hand, so had Flowey.

The locket beckoned him a strange word: forgive. forgive. forgive. The word curled around the heart shape, hid itself among the engraving, stole the color away from the sepia photos. He wasn't sure what it meant at first; he did forgive Chara. He let them go. Only when he looked up and saw Sans smiling at him did he realize the person to forgive was himself.

"that's a genuine smile, i can tell. it doesn't look half bad on you," Sans said, grinning too. "you should try wearing it more often."

And he realized he was crying , tears running down his face and passing over the smile he wore as well. "Sans," he said, "thank you. Thank you... thank you so much..."

"no problem--"

"... but I can't keep this," Flowey finished.

It caught Sans off guard, his eyes widening. "no? i thought you liked it."

"I do, but..." he said. "I'm not that person anymore. Even if it's stupid or selfish, I... don't want to be."

"i didn't mean to say you had to be," he said. "you can honor the past without living it out."

"But isn't that our 'happy ending'?" Flowey said, desperation in his tone. "Asgore deserves to see him. Everyone will feel hope seeing him. It would all be better if he had been here and not me. Not 'Flowey'."

"kiddo..." he closed his eyes in thought. "there's no 'happy ending'. this is all a journey. remember how you said you'd be waiting for me at the finish line?"

"... Yeah."

"not to burst your bubble, but... there really isn't one. there's not gonna be a happy ending. or a sad ending, or a neutral ending, or whatever," he said. "we just keep going. and we're gonna keep going together, alright?"

"I'm sorry," he was saying, because even if he said it, he couldn't bring Asriel back. Even with the re-emergence of joy and sadness and surprise, a chasm still stood between him and everyone else. There still was no love. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry--" faster now, apologizing for each tear he shed.

Crybaby, he thought. It wasn't even a big deal. He knew how to do different faces. Different voices. He could bring Asriel back, just for a little. He could tell the truth about his identity. He could let Asgore say goodbye. But Flowey only thought of himself, just as much as he did when he carried Chara's body back Underground so they could die together.

"don't forget," Sans said, and Flowey looked up to meet his eye. "asgore didn't ask me to see that person. he had been kicked out of the inn, he wanted to apologize to me desperately... but besides all that, the first thing he asked me was where to find you. flowey."

Flowey. At first it had just been a mockery of a name, something stupid to easily garner trust. But he had chosen it for himself, and he could use it for as long as he wanted or throw it away whenever he wanted. It was as real as it was when his friends- his friends, not his toys to play with- acknowledged it.

"don't feel like you need to make up your mind now," Sans said. "if he never comes back, then that's okay. and if he decides he ever does want to... i'll greet him with a big, welcoming 'sup'."

"... Thank you," Flowey said, sniffling, looking up at Snowdin again. His tears had started ebbing away.

"no problem," Sans said, rustling his petals again. "just remember, you don't gotta be alone on this path. alright?" he asked. "even if you get lost, everyone will come."

Chapter Text

It sounds like it came from over here...

Oh! You've fallen down, haven't you... Are you okay?

Here, get up...

... Chara, huh?

That's a nice name.

My    n  a  m   e      i      s

. . .

But he didn't know.

Like all creatures that had to adapt to survive, lies were part of his nature now. "It's okay for it to be you who dies, Chara." "My name is Flowey." "I'm doing fine."

Little did Asriel know he wasn't the first of his kind to learn such a trick. Flowey was born into a world a child was too young to see, peeling away his parents' lies and revealing they, too, were sin-stained mortals.

Nobody matched up to Chara.

Now, with their face staring at him in the locket, he wondered how much he actually knew of them. He knew their favorite food and their favorite game and their favorite shirt; he could still trace the shape of their smile in his mind's eye, but what about the words they held back with it? What caused them to hate humanity so much? What event triggered them to become so bitter later in their stay in the Underground?

Asked this world he wasn't meant to see: why did he believe they had just miraculously become happy and mentally healthy when they had climbed up a mountain they knew nobody returned from?

Flowey snapped the locket shut, now. He didn't know why he was trying. If happiness were drawn from an inkwell, Flowey had written his last chapter long ago.

‘And then he was stupid and he died like he deserved. The end.’

Except, after the last page was turned and all that remained was white, the world wouldn't release its grasp on him.

Now, flipping through the same story for the umpteenth time with only a minor variation at the end, he couldn't avoid the hundreds of pages of soulless terror he had inflicted before the handful of pages of lukewarm kindness and confusion he had shown in this timeline. With such a history behind him, did they really think he 'learned' anything from this? All he did was make them like him, the same way he did so many times before he began putting them out of his misery. The thought of killing them would always be there, like a stain of ink. The thought of killing himself was ever closer, behind every word, smiling from every shadow. 

He always had liked to think there was a purpose to his reincarnation besides Alphys's idiocy. Every story had logical reasoning. If his rebirth wasn't for Chara's sake, what was it?  

The flower could look through the pages and timelines past for an answer, but had yet to start looking forward.

Despite that he closed it, from within the locket came Asriel's muffled voice: you tricked nobody into liking you. They sought you out- angry, manipulative Flowey- on their own.

Chara's picture in the locket was as silent as they had been this whole time. But maybe-- just maybe, he thought- he himself was the one thing preventing the world from letting them rest, too.

When Flowey looked at the locket,  his petals swayed in the reflection.

He never thought of this as his body. It was a vessel, a temporary thing until he could absorb the SOULs and become a god. No matter how many times he saw himself in the mirror, he couldn't be sure who was looking back. 

Something whispered to him now- a voice that had always been present in the back of his mind, between the lines of his story- that absorbing the SOULs wouldn't oust his emptiness, either. But he swept the thought tiredly from his mind. He was a creature of Determination, not of reasoning. It was why, even though he had learned so much, he still brooded now at the few smiles which had been written at the end of a thousand tears. 

Despite everything in this timeline, he let himself be called 'Flowey', he found himself going to Sans's house, he refrained himself from killing Asgore in his fit of anger-- and now, he was smiling at dumb jokes and letting himself cry, actually cry, once again. And he felt that, even if he had emptied his inkwell long ago, he had been continuing regardless to scratch the pages with a dry quill, waiting to find someone who could read it.

---

Flowey didn't try to listen to all the crowd's voices but just focused on the weight of their messages: happiness, recovery, optimism. Even with the limited number of monsters remaining, Snowdin was bustling with life. The sleepy little town stretched its limbs and applauded so hard as the mayor took his place on stage that the surface shook from its tremors.

"Do you, Mayor Bearington," Gerson started, squinting through his reading glasses at the paper before him. "Is this right? You put 'Mayor' where your first name goes, sonny."

Politics Bear scratched the back of his head. "Mayor is actually my first name."

"Wa ha ha! Mayor Mayor Bearington? No kidding?" Gerson said.

"Th-thaaaaaaaaat's politics?"

Flowey rolled his eyes as the crowd whooped and laughed. At least that little factoid was familiar. In search of entertainment, he once had told that stupid bear of every political assassination he knew of (and some he made up) until the monster walked, trembling, into his house, never to leave again without jumping at the slightest of sounds.

But the memory could bring him no amusement, the way such memories once had. For a while, figuring out how the ins and outs of each monster kept his mind occupied, lifted from the void-- his version of 'joy'. Now, reflecting on his actions just made him feel so, so tired.

"Alright, alright," Gerson said. "Do you, Mayor-elect Mayor Bearington, solemnly swear to protect this town with your whole heart and SOUL?"

"I do."

"Good enough for me!" he said. "I now pronounce you mayor and town!"

And, as the cheer rose again from the townspeople, Flowey didn't have to study it to imagine what about that idiot bear could possibly make them happy. They didn't see him, the monster, they saw a manifestation of their hopes and dreams.

---

Halfway through the Mettaton Marathon that Bratty and Catty had put on, Flowey appeared before Asgore. He opened his mouth to greet him, but before he could, Asgore said 'howdy' first.

"I'm afraid you are just a touch late! You missed the Nice Cream cake!" Asgore said. "I do not know if it had plant food in it, though." He scratched his chin, as if wondering if Flowey had finished his plant food pie. "Say, Did you ever--"

"Don't you feel bad being here?" Flowey just asked, right away. If he played friendly with Asgore, he'd be here all day. "I mean, isn't that bear your replacement?"

Even after calling him 'brusque', it still caught Asgore by surprise. But a moment later, he answered, "I appreciate your concern, but I am alright," as if Flowey had been worrying for him. "It is actually a ceremonial position to celebrate the new life breathed into this town. It has never had a mayor before."

The crowd laughed, and it took Flowey a second to register that it was directed at the TV and not at himself. He turned his attention back to Asgore. "Why's everyone laughing at this? They've already seen it."

"It is... fun to relive memories," Asgore said, a touch confused.

"Fun," Flowey sneered. "Yeah, right. Don't these idiots know Mettaton is dead?"

His pitch rose on the last word, full of emotion he still had yet to comprehend. Some turned around to look at Flowey- some in irritation, some in misplaced sympathy- but ultimately returned to ignoring him.  Asgore's own face was torn between shock and sadness, which just left his eyes bulging and his mouth agape.

"I... guess I should say sorry or whatever, but... it's true," Flowey said. "If we turn our backs on that truth, it's just going to hurt more later on." He paused briefly, just briefly enough to swallow a lump building up in his throat. "I know."

Asgore, ever so carefully, put his plate down and wiped his fingers on a little napkin, as if buying time to think. Then, he said: "do you remember what I told you, as we were relocating the survivors of Snowdin town to the castle?"

Flowey strained to think of it. His memory, after several resets, had become less linear and more based on important bits of information to remember. After a moment, he remembered. "Smiling to cover your pain will leave you with nothing inside," he said.

"That is correct. Pain is like a need. If it is ignored, it will only grow worse and worse, like hunger. However, similar to hunger," he paused, his eyes downcast, "once one reaches a severe point such as starvation, they no longer know they are hungry at all."

"You're not making any sense!" Flowey spat. "It's like I said! Everyone's just reliving the past even though they should be mourning!"

"But they have--"

"When's it acceptable to stop loving someone?" he snapped. People were looking, now, and even holding their stares. "When's it acceptable to forget them, Asgore? Once they're in the coffin? Once your wife leaves you?"

"Enough."

His voice bellowed throughout the town, and for a moment, Flowey realized why people feared Asgore. "Flowey..." he rubbed the bridge of his nose, taking a breath. Flowey wanted to just run, ditch this stupid town and toss the stupid locket into lava and maybe throw himself in too-- but Asgore wasn't finished. "There is a difference between smiling to cover pain and smiling to heal it. If one turns their back on everything but the tragedy that has already occurred, they will never see the hope that beckons them ahead."

And, as Asgore spoke, Flowey couldn't help but think of himself standing over Chara's grave, with Toriel's home and the rest of the Underground far behind him.

"that's right..." a small voice said. The crowd parted a little, but before they fully did,  Napstablook had already awkwardly floated through several bodies. "um... i lost my cousins, and i felt unattached, like i might just float away and never come back to reality again. but everyone here found me and... reeled me back in, i guess."

After a moment, they added: "oh... i'm not a fish, though... it was a metaphor."

For a moment, Flowey could remember how the town had looked from the high-up view with Napstablook. It was so small, once too small to contain an entire kingdom of monsters-- and nzow, even with their numbers so sharply curbed, it still felt too small to hold them all, because their SOULs were so, so big.

"Yeah!" Catty said, sitting precariously on the mound of VHS tapes. "That little weirdo might've taken so much from us, but they couldn't kill, like--"

"-- our spirit!" Bratty said, putting away the fork and knife she had been hovering over Catty's back now that people were looking. She coughed. "Like, what?"

"Yo, they're so right!" Monster Kid said. They wore their helmet, even though everyone else in the guard was technically off-duty. Flowey wasn't sure why, but then he saw their family behind them, a younger sister looking up at them in admiration. "Monsters redo! It's what we build!"

"Rebuild," Gerson said with a chuckle, tapping Monster Kid on the helmet, "it's what we do."

"That too!" Monster Kid said, smiling up at the old monster.

When Flowey's eyes met Monster Kid's again, no visions came to him, no screams rang in his skull-- just the sound of running waters and the peace Waterfall had brought. The child's story had been a tsunami but it had calmed to a sunshower and Flowey was left soaked, wondering how it all happened so fast.  

"If anyone would know. About laughin' away pain," said Snappy, his wing around his wife's back, "it'd be us. Lemme tell you. It does hurt. But..."

"... it... gets... better..." Snowdrake's mother said, in a not-at-all-comforting mix between a wheeze and a giggle. Endogeny let out an echoing bark of agreement, putting its face-hole over a dog bone that was entirely gone upon looking back up.

"... Don't be like me, kid," Burgerpants said, a candy cigarette in his fingers (noticing this in place of his usual cigarette, Nice Cream Guy shot him a thumbs up). "I mean... don't give up all hope. Trust me. I'm only 20 years old and I've already... kind of made a name for myself in a construction business... the major project of which was almost entirely cancelled."

"Twenty?" Guy said, slinging an arm around his shoulders. "Heeeey.... is a birthday cake in order, big guy?"

"I was hoping for a surprise party gala, but the only person hiding behind my furniture was this chubby skeleton. asleep."

"Ooh!" Catty said. "Can we make a burger-shaped cake? With glamburgers on it?"

"That sounds like, something only you would be into," Bratty said, rolling her eyes playfully.

"Not true!" Catty said, looking back at Flowey. "Hey, little guy! Your favorite food is glamburger cake, 'cause I said so!"

"Actually," Asgore interrupted before Flowey could speak, "I think it is plant food pie."

"Yo, it's not even you guys's cake!" Monster Kid said, laughing. "Maybe it can be half burger, but you gotta have at least half with french fries on it for the rest of us."

"French fries? Don't tell me that skeleton rubbed off on you!" Burgerpants shouted in mock-annoyance.

The group cast a glance at Grillby, who just shrugged as if to say, don't look at me, I just serve it. Everyone burst into laughter, even Sans, who had appeared from somewhere again. "aren't monsters weird?" Sans said. "it's like they hardly know you, but they already all love you."

"I... don't understand," Flowey admitted. He closed his eyes, but all he could see was Asriel staring back, smiling for the first time in that stupid picture because he had finally made a friend. Love-- he couldn't love, he felt nothing for these people at all. He never would feel love, he thought, panic rising up his roots.

But, then, Asgore put a hand gently against Flowey's back. "Is that right? I've heard some tales. You and Sans have become good friends, right?"

"let's not push it, here," Sans said, and everyone laughed again. "yeah. i guess you could call me a member of the flowey fan club."

He felt his face growing hot in embarrassment. "Whatever," Flowey said. "So long as you don't say I'm a member of the 'Sans fans' or something stupid."

"i would never join a club like that. heard that guy's overrated," he said.

"Really? I heard from a really cool royal guardsperson that Sans got them permission to stay in the guard," Monster Kid said, and their mother pretended to cough. "Yo, if you make that club, can I be president?"

"sure," Sans said. "but i'm king."

"Hey!" they giggled. "Fine! I'm joining the Flowey Fan Club instead!"

"Count me in, too," Bratty said. Catty added: "Like, any friend of theirs is a friend of mine!"

"And any friend of Sans's is a friend of mine," Monster Kid said.

"Wa ha ha! Got space for an old man in the little club, too?" Gerson said.

"If there is. Then I might just join in too," Snappy said, a certain lightness to his voice that hadn't been present before. "Only if you'll have the missus, though!"

"sounds... fun..." she said. "flowey... a... nice name...."

"Geez, how'd he get a fan club before me?" Burgerpants said. "Is it too late to say I hated Mettaton first?"

"Oh, c'mon! That attitude's why you never get a fan club!"  Guy said. He gave an overexaggerated wave at Flowey. "Hey! Count us in the fan club! Maybe... members get a discount on Nice Cream?"

"Uh oh, I know that voice," Burgerpants said, cracking a smile. "Thinking of a new business opportunity?"

"Friendliness Pops!" Guy said. "The sweet treat that smiles back!"

"Just... erm. Do not use buttercups instead of cups of butter," Asgore said, a hand on his stomach.

"What kind of goofball would do that?" Guy said, oblivious to Flowey's embarrassment.

"What the heck," said the Snowdin shopkeeper. "Count in the shop and inn as official supporters of the fan club. No monster or flower gets left behind in Snowdin."

And other monsters began shouting out their love and support to Flowey before he could even get a word in edgewise. It was true-- it felt like they loved him, really truly loved him, and all he did to earn it was help a mass murderer and be a miserable creature.

Maybe he didn't love them back, not yet. But he didn't seem to see it as the so-hated pity rather than just overbearing, misplaced sincerity. And being loved was different than loving; he was capable of the former, even if the emptiness inside him growled and snarled as if cornered.

Finally, a hush fell over the crowd. Monsters found themselves looking at Napstablook, who still was in the middle of them all from speaking up first. They took off their headphones and looked up. "oh... did i miss something...?" they said. "were we... oh... i'm sorry... it's... a curse... having no ears.. but trying to listen--"

"AND YOU CAN ONLY HAVE NO EARS IF YOU'RE ME!" Monster Kid sang to the tune of Mettaton's song.

"TALL, DARK AND SQUUUAAAAARE!" the rest started singing.

"... oh..." Napstablook said, as everyone looked at them to continue. They began to sweat, somehow.

"For the love of--" Flowey said. "Don't you idiots know? The next line proper is 'a very handsome crucible'."

And, despite the fact he just muttered it, everyone whooped and kept singing as if Flowey had sang. Idiots, he thought, the lot of them.

The song was only interrupted by Mayor Bearington bursting into sobs. "I can't believe I'm in charge of such a beautiful town!" he said. "I never thought my long career as mayor would pay off like this!"

"yeah," Sans said. "it's been a pretty long half-hour or so."

Asgore stood up, and Flowey felt odd at the absence of his comforting hand. "It certainly has been," he said, brushing off his cloak-- Flowey noticed it was freshly laundered. "I wish for the celebration to continue, but if I might be excused, there is something I must do."

"Hurry back now," Gerson said. "If you don't... someone might fill those two seats you were taking up! Wa ha ha!"

"Where do you have to go in such a hurry?" Flowey demanded.

Asgore just cast a friendly glance over his shoulder. "Why don't you come along? You are invited. In fact..." he said. "I think there is something I should show you."

"hurry  back now," Sans said to Flowey. "if you don't, someone might lay down in the comfy looking dirt and slush you were taking up."

Flowey didn't reply, trying to follow Asgore through the crowd. In the past, he had always taken careful precautions to avoid being trampled on, but now the crowd parted for him as well as for Asgore. It was difficult to burrow through the ground with the locket clutched in his roots, but he wouldn't move any other way.

---

Once the calm lull of Waterfall broke the short silence, Flowey spoke to his father.

"I saw you got your cloak back," he started. He would've just demanded to know what Asgore wanted to show him, but knowing his father, he would either give a dopey smile or blurt it out and embarrass Flowey secondhand.

Asgore smiled fondly. "Oh, right... that child asked to give it back to me long ago, but I said Snowdin may be a touch chilly with only scales to protect them. Now, though, they look like that armor will keep them plenty warm."

"So... you're sure you have no problems with a kid in the royal guard?" Flowey asked, leaving out the countless possible ways Monster Kid could get gored.  

"Undyne was about their age when she first challenged me," he said, chuckling. It faded slowly. "Golly, how time flies... I feel like it were just yesterday."

"How do you feel about it?" Flowey asked. His voice caught at the end, embarrassed. He felt as if he were blind and asking Asgore to describe color.

Waterfall, for all the noise it made sometimes, could also epitomize silence. It was simultaneously a space for both noisy kids and reclusive artists, but the waters always ran together, never driving anyone apart. At first the only sounds had been the roaring water, and then it was just Asgore's delicate footsteps leaving new puddles in their wake, and then the lullaby of rain. The statue rested same as it always did near the container of umbrellas, and when Flowey squinted, he could almost see his name and the year of his birth at the base.

But, just like Asriel's memory, it too had long been eroded away.

Asgore said nothing at first in response to Flowey or the presence of the statue, the sorry state of which Flowey had once chastized him over. Only one lonely umbrella remained in the container. Asgore picked it up with care and then, without a moment's hesitation, put it in the statue's hands.

As rain trickled onto the umbrella, gears began to turn inside the old memorial. A music box began to play a song that Asgore had hummed to Asriel as a lullaby long ago: a song that had been the last thing on his infant mind before sleep as he looked up at his space-themed mobile and the last thing on his young mind before death as he dropped Chara's corpse onto the ground.

Flowey couldn't remember when he first found the statue; it felt as if it had always been there. What he could remember was a flash of anger, because whereas this was the last memory of Asriel, Chara had nothing but their corpse rotting below. He remembered a cycle of regret, because this stupid statue only served to remind him that's how he would always be remembered: not as one of the heroes that set the Underground free, but as a stupid and sad little boy that didn't deserve the one friend he had.

"I once asked Undyne why she came to challenge me that day," Asgore said, and Flowey got the impression he was somewhere far away. "It was a rash decision, like so many things she did. She did not admit it, but..."

As the melody played on, Flowey turned to face Asgore, who had paused. "... apparently, she used to talk to this statue when she felt like nobody believed in her. I told her that Asriel always had been a fantastic listener." He looked up, as if he had returned to the present.. "She then asked for the first time how it happened. When I told her, she wanted to honor this memorial in some way."

"So she created a puzzle based around it," Flowey added. True enough, music notes had begun to glow above the statue's head. He was surprised she had managed to come up with this rather than just punching something and saying in memoriam.

"Yes," Asgore said. "Now... Well, I suppose it will help me remember them both. They were both truly wonderful people."

"If you could bring them back, would you?" Flowey pressed.

Asgore simply closed his eyes. "... I don't think either of them deserved the fate they met. But I still wouldn't bring them back to life against their will," he said, after a moment. "Ha ha... I bet she and Asriel would have gotten along well. Maybe they are now, in another world."

"... Yeah," Flowey said. "Maybe."

"Are you ready to move on?" Asgore asked.

"Where are we going?" he wound up asking anyway.  

"It is better shown than told. Trust me, it is something you'll want to see," Asgore said. He gestured to the continuing rain on their path ahead. "I hope you do not mind getting a bit wet on the way."

He was about to say that they could take the umbrella from the statue, but he knew the old sap wouldn't take it for anything. "Pfft, it's nothing," Flowey said. "I'm a flower, remember?"

And, for once, saying he was a flower didn't bring forth the sting that lies left upon him. It felt nice thinking of Asriel off in a better place while Flowey remained rooted here.

---

The lab doors opened as nonchalantly as any other day, the lights flickering on in a welcoming manner. It was here everything had begun and ended-- back when Flowey had tossed the noose Alphys tied in front of the crowd, back when Asgore clutched the suicide note to his heart. The voice of Waterfall had been replaced with the bubbling lava and whirring machines of Hotland, but when they entered the lab, they both heard the same voice formed from nothingness: if you are reading this, I am dead.

"Do you really think there's something for monsters after they die?" Flowey asked. As they passed the door to the true lab, he caught a glimpse of his own reflection, and then caught a glimpse of Alphys injecting the tallest of Asgore's flowers with determination and unknowingly starting the end of it all.  

"I know so," Asgore said, as if it were simple. "Alphys is watching over us even now."

"How?"

"I requested the electricity to this lab be cut off once the CORE started again," Asgore said, smiling. "But it feels as if someone turned them on for us to welcome us back."

Flowey was about to make a cutting quip about backup generators and automatic lights, but, after a moment, he let his father believe what he wanted to. It wasn't as if he was a stranger to believing someone wasn't really gone.

Besides, when he had earlier visited the True Lab himself, he had discovered that the backup generator had cut out already.

---

"Here we are," Asgore said. "We finally made it home."

Regardless of how long it had been, New Home always did smell like settling sweets and skinned knees and shared secrets. Even now, he had a flash of doubt that he was Flowey at all and he hadn't just stepped back in time, back into Asriel's body. But, despite this, he restrained himself from looking for Chara.

Instead, he looked up at Asgore. "Is this it?"

"No, this is not what I wanted to show you. But it was a rather long walk, was it not? Let us take a break," Asgore said. "Would you like some tea?"

"I guess," Flowey said. He looked up at Asgore just slightly. "Tea makes you happy, right?"

"Well... yes!" Asgore said. "Why do you ask?"

"Just wanted to make sure," he said. As Asgore walked over to start the tea, he pondered why he did ask. He knew tea made Asgore happy, and puzzles made Papyrus happy, and fighting made Undyne happy; he knew these things as simple facts, open-and-shut certainties as sure and tested as a light switch. But the universe so often flickered and left him in the dark. Some days, Asgore didn't feel like tea; sometimes, Papyrus seemed to have something on his mind besides puzzling. Heck, sometimes monsters stopped liking something for no reason at all.

He reappeared in the kitchen, puncturing a little hole in the floor. "What about tea makes you happy?" he prompted.

Asgore jumped a little in surprise. "Well..." he started. "I love the scent of fresh tea as it is poured. I like the warm feeling that washes over one as they enjoy that first sip. It is truly nice to share it with friends, such as yourself," he said. " I even enjoy the whistle of the kettle."

It wasn't anything Flowey couldn't have inferred, and yet something about it intrigued him. If he was blind, then Asgore painted broad brushstrokes of color in his mind. "Why's it so fun sharing tea with someone?" he said. "It's just a drink."

"It is, but it has the potential to become something more," Asgore said. "Just a simple well-made cup of tea can begin a friendship that lasts after the last drop has been finished."

"But..." he scrunched his face in thought. Flowey had watched him hand pick every ingredient he put into his tea, and he had watched as some visitors ran off after having scarcely a sip. Yet it never made the old man angry. "But why?"

At this, the kettle began to whistle. "Perhaps I can show you," Asgore said, taking the teapot off the heat. A cloud of steam rose as he poured it into two teacups that rested on little decorative plates. He gave set one next to Flowey, who remained on the floor, and politely stood while he drank his own.

On one chilly day, Asriel and Chara had stayed locked up in their room and he watched them finish the Mr Dad Guy sweater. After a while, Asgore knocked on their door and said he had a surprise-- but so did they. Asriel had been so excited, he swung the door open and spilled hot tea all over Asgore.

Fortunately, he was unscathed; Toriel even giggled about the incident as she scrubbed the stain out of his cloak for him while he got changed into the sweater for the first time.

Flowey watched the tea leaves float about in his cup. A pair of them chased each other in little circles endlessly, and the other continued even after the first wound up dissolving to tiny bits. No-- Chara hadn't been the greatest person. But they were, as Sans might say, pretty okay.

"I have been thinking about you since our last conversation," Asgore said, breaking the silence after taking a sip of his tea.

Flowey shifted his gaze. "Yeah, I... uh... might've been too hones--"

"It was what I needed."

He heard a small chuckle- a sad, pitiful laugh- and looked back with something he might consider sympathy. "I prided myself on not crossing the barrier, on not being firmly rooted to either peace or war in hopes I might have the best of both," Asgore said. "But all I did was please neither my subjects nor put to rest the spirits of my children, who were the future of humans and monsters.

"I resented my father for having so flawlessly negotiated peace between humans and monsters since our creation and then suddenly leaving me behind on his throne in a kingdom swallowed by the depths of the Earth," Asgore continued. "After that, I promised to myself I would never leave my children in the dark, even if for a good cause. And yet I have done so anyway. I have pretended they would cheer for me if they were alive."

For a second, the two held eye contact, and Flowey swore Asgore saw through the petals and the stem and roots right down to the locket hidden within. They had waited so long for their family to come back, the two of them. One was so torn by the rift in their family they waited day by day at the golden flowers, unable to comprehend the love all around him, just hoping to hear Chara's laughter again.

The other was Flowey.

"But," Asgore continued, his voice growing more and more resolute. "I can pretend that no longer. I will no longer disgrace both the memories of my father and my children. I will do my duty."

"Then--" Flowey could vaguely see his reflection in his tea-- his eyes widening, his mouth falling open in surprise. He could hear the six SOULs' voices from here. "Are you going to... finish this?"

"Yes," Asgore said, excusing himself. "After so long, it is time."

"You could have crossed the barrier with just one SOUL, but you let generations of monsters suffer down here because you were scared!" rang his own words through his mind. It was true he had said this- it was true he'd spent years trying to get Asgore to just show him the SOULs, decades trying to convince him to use the SOULs and break the barrier- but so much had happened since the last Reset. It was the first time he felt any of this was real. It was the first time he couldn't bail out if there was any hint of consequence.

Asgore just looked over his shoulder once. "Take your time," he said, too calm for the situation. "You have scarcely touched your tea, I notice."

"How could I have time for tea now?" he sputtered, following Asgore out of the home. The Earth shivered with every step Asgore took-- sometimes he wondered if the humans could feel his pacing. It felt less like an earthquake than a hurricane making its way toward shore; slow, steady, and calm at its center.

Flowey had seen storms before, and he could already hear the winds starting to howl again.

"Are you not relieved?" Asgore asked. "Soon, all of this will be over. You took such interest in the SOULs before. I thought you would want to view this."

It sickened him that Asgore knew him so well, even now. It sickened him doubly that Asgore asked him how he felt for once and answered before he could even try to formulate the words. He did want to see it, he was curious what Asgore would become when he absorbed the SOULs. So many times Flowey sat in the flower patch and remembered the times he thought his father was the strongest man in the world.

"I... don't think you have to do this now," Flowey said. "The SOULs will always be there, right?"

"They have waited enough."

He wasn't sure if it was an overexaggeration to say that, as Asriel absorbed Chara's SOUL, all the pain from their death tore his healthy muscles in half and stopped his living circulation in its tracks. It had been excruciating, but pain was their dish of choice and he was just getting acquainted. And in the end, even the slightest discrepancy between their ideologies had killed them both.

How could Asgore, weak-willed Asgore, hold six SOULs under his thumb?

"But everyone seemed so... happy?" he said, stumbling across the word. Even now, it felt unreal, like he had to doubt that any of this had happened at all and this wasn't a hallucination before the human's knife met his stem. Happy. Liking him. Comforting him. None of these variables had ever come into play before, especially not the determination in Asgore's eyes.

So why now? He was holding onto the ground as tight as he could but if it weren't for the locket, he feared he would slip away.

Asgore looked pained. For a moment, he almost stopped walking. Almost. "This is for the greater good," Asgore said.

He jumbled so many words in his mind- so many questions, so many doubts- and all Flowey found himself asking in reply was, "how do you feel right now?"

"Terrified."

And without another word, he rounded a corner and was gone.

For a moment, Flowey wondered if he wanted to see it at all. His mind craved information like a database, and it was twice as unfeeling. The breaking of the barrier was a variable he had never observed and resigned himself to never being able to.

So why did he not want to see it now? The surface. The surface. Chara had fallen from the surface. Chara crawled their way back from this underworld just once. They had promised him they would 'use' six SOULs and break the barrier.

But Asriel knew their hatred of humanity ran far, far deeper in their veins. He had seen it spill out so many times before, red and sticky.

He centered himself. He forced his mind to think logically. Asgore was going to break the barrier. Asgore was going to destroy humanity. The SOULs would be exposed. Flowey could theoretically snatch the SOULs and do what he wished with them.

But what did he want? To feel whole? To be a god? It hit him like a ton of bricks that the idea of stealing the SOULs felt so appealing now because Asgore wouldn't have to bear the pain of absorbing them.

And then-- and then, with all that power, he could restart it all. He could go back to the beginning. He could demand answers from the human. He could take their SOUL and break the barrier and live on the surface and build a mansion and house his friends in it and mediate all peace talks and finally be adored and loved and rest in the sunlight.

Or he could do nothing, because the vision of everyone smiling at him and joining his facetious 'fan club' now had flashed before his mind again.

Finally, he took a deep breath and followed Asgore to the edge of the world. The best answer he had was he didn't know. He didn't know, and it refreshed him in a sense, because he had always known the answer to everything and that fact had sickened him to the point of suicide. Whatever happened in there- whether he took the SOULs or Asgore did- he at least felt resigned knowing it would happen as himself and nobody else.

---

Each step spanned an eternity, and when Flowey tried to speak, the strangled voices in the barrier spirited away every word that came to his mind.

He had been here before, but he had never looked at the barrier before. He had been too absorbed in his thoughts to stare. Now, for once, he was awed by the creation before him. It could be considered an amalgamate of its own-- of hate, of fear, of every monster slain and every human spared. To stand here for longer than a minute would drive anyone mad.

Asgore had been standing here for at least a minute, a century, an aeon.

"As I'm sure you have gathered, this is the barrier," Asgore said. His words carried far across the room, seemingly through the Underground in its entirety, and Flowey wondered if they could carry through the barrier or if they would be absorbed into the amalgamation. "This is all that stands between us and freedom."

"It's..." Flowey began. But he couldn't think of a way to describe how he felt.

"It is easy to get lost in it," Asgore said. "It is nothing if not a monument to human violence. For a non-magic being such as a human to use such powerful magic, one must have a significant level of LOVE."

"I guess... they killed a lot of monsters in the war."

"At times, I wonder if that alone would have been enough, or if they had something of a head start," Asgore said. Flowey had never seen him with such a grim expression. "I am no fool. I understand why it takes a monster SOUL to leave but not to enter. At any time, a human could fall and curb our population. They could make use of my SOUL, my wife's, my child's, any of that to achieve power beyond any regular human."

The white of the barrier blinded Flowey far faster than the little bit shining above Chara's resting place did, but there was nowhere else to look. He wondered if humans made the barrier that color intentionally so monsters could not so much as see the world outside.

"Every day, I wondered if the council regretted their choice," Asgore said. "If the sacrifice of my father meant nothing. You see, Gerson suggested that my father, the first king, protected a human from an attack-- but perhaps that human he protected had come to defect to our side." He shook his head just slightly. "But if that is so, and the barrier is so simple to cross, why did we never see that human again?"

"Maybe..." His mind whirred as he processed this new information. "They were scared you all would kill them because they caused your king to die."

Asgore just snorted, and Flowey felt stupid for speaking. He was tall, but usually he had a small and nonconfrontational presence. But standing before the barrier, with no reference point so much as an expanse of nothingness that stretched on as far as the eye could see, he seemed a hundred feet tall. "Recently, I thought something similar. Then, as I laid my head down to rest, I thought: perhaps the humans, with no monster to protect my friend, finished the job."

Alphys's noose swayed in Flowey's mind. It made sense-- if the human was trying to defect, there's no way humans would let them get away with it. Chara couldn't get away with so much as just being a child.

"For years after our exile, I expected a human army- even so much as a lone soldier- to fall down and end our suffering," Asgore confessed. "I was confused. I tried to emulate my father's style of ruling for a time. Even after the war ended, I required my surviving soldiers to continue their training." He looked at Flowey and answered his question before he asked. "I felt incredibly isolated. For a time, I was unsure if it was worth continuing if any human who fell down could slaughter us all."

If every word echoed in this space, every silence echoed too. Flowey watched Asgore's back rise and fall with his breaths, and then stop, and then resume again. The oceans of time met their shores here, receding and flowing forward with every breath the barrier took of its own.

When Asgore looked back, his eyes were misted with tears.

"But none of them ever did."

In his outstretched palm rested a small gold locket, although the surface had worn as if it had been touched too many times. As if to confirm Flowey's hypothesis, Asgore traced his thumb over the surface and then flipped the locket open. Inside were two pictures: one was Asriel leading Chara home for the first time, them still leaning on his shoulder for support. The other was Asriel leaning on Chara, a year later, helping him to bed after a long day they had spent together.

Best friends forever. He could practically feel the engraving, even below the wear. That locket was his own- Asriel's- which had been lost when he died. He felt Chara's locket, beating softly with energy, tangled in an embrace along his roots.

"Every human who fell down here had either amassed no LOVE or little at all," Asgore said, clutching the locket close to his heart. "From fear... from mistakes... either way, all of them had the desire to restart. To make things right. You may know this, but LOVE can be undone gradually, through resensitization, or sharply, through a traumatic event."

Creatues like us-- and Flowey shook the dust from his mind.

"What cannot be undone is love," Asgore said. "Even if I have acted contrary to my feelings and commited these vile sins, it is not too late for me to correct them. Even if humans in the past have acted wrongly towards us, that is not reflective of the entirety of humanity. That is why, after all this time--" he put the locket away somewhere, giving Flowey a smile that made him feel warmth in his empty heart, "that I am not going to cross the barrier."

And again, Flowey's aggregate knowledge of every monster and logical reasoning fell on its face. "I... I thought you were going to absorb the SOULs," Flowey said.

"No, my child," he said, borrowing a phrase from Toriel that made his heart stop. "I am not going to absorb them. I am going to release them."

He pulled something else from a hidden pocket- a remote, almost as small as the locket- and pressed a single button. From the white was born color: blue, yellow, orange, every type of SOUL but one beating like a heart. The barrier retracted at the sight of them, the colors shining a beacon through the emptiness.

Grab them, screamed a part of his mind: steal them now, this is why you exist, this is why you're here! If there is a purpose to your reincarnation, they are about to disappear into the void!

And Asriel simply said, from the locket below: don't just look back. Look forward.

And he did, straining his eyes to look at Asgore instead of the blinding lights around them. "But..." Flowey fought to get the words out beyond the conflicting voices in his head. "What about... the human who almost killed everyone? The one Sans stopped? What if they come back?"

"Deep down," Asgore said, "a part of me truly believes the reason a body was not found was because something happened. You might call it... an 'anomaly'," he concluded after a moment of thought. "Somewhere deep down within all that LOVE, perhaps they hesitated. Perhaps somewhere within that deep abyss, someone was calling for help. Perhaps they had a desire to do the right thing like the other humans. That is what I believe."

"But.. Dr. Alphys--"

"--would be smiling upon us if she knew it was all over," Asgore said. "She regretted having not taken action. I committed the same sin. That human's pain, their confusion... it all reached a point I should have never let it. The next time a human falls, they will not have to answer to my old law. They shall not have to kill or be killed.

"It shall take time for us to heal this wound and trust again, but it will happen. I have seen it before," Asgore said. "And I will see it again."

The SOULs did not move at first as the containers opened, as if they were just as surprised as Flowey was. They rose gradually as a sunrise, painting the endless horizon of the barrier awash with colors just the same.

Flowey thought few things were beautiful. He would see a meadow and analyze it for escape routes. He'd watch the sparkling cave ceiling and wonder if the Underground would cave in and crush them all. But now- now, here with this stupid man he had tortured a thousand times to reveal the SOULs, but to no avail- the SOULs rose higher and higher, radiating love and forgiveness and humanity, and he couldn't look away.

"Goodbye," Asgore said to them. "And thank you."

With one last flash of color vanished the SOULs, blinding Flowey one last time. When his vision cleared, the two of them were alone. The barrier stood intact.

"Ha ha..." Asgore wiped a tear from his eye, smiling. "You know, after a while of my training regiments, my wife, Toriel, let all the soldiers return to a peacetime state. She told me that some humans may be horrible," he said, "but that is precisely why we must show them so much love. Now, after so long, I feel like I truly understand. I just wish I could tell her."

"... I bet she's smiling, too," Flowey said, his voice as much lighter as Snappy's had been.

It was over now. The uncertainty, the doubt, the hyperfixation upon the dead. He would never know for sure-- he wouldn't absorb the SOULs now, he wouldn't reset everything, he wouldn't see Toriel again. He'd never see any of them again. And somehow, like Sans suggested, it felt like they watched over him still.

"I bet she is," Asgore said.

"Asgore?"

"Yes?"

"Why...?"  he asked. "Why did you tell me all this and show me all this?"

Asgore kneeled down so he no longer towered over Flowey. He could see his reflection in Asgore's eye, and saw nobody staring back but himself. "Because I owe it to you. I would not have reached this point without your help."

He clenched his teeth in regret, trying to force back the memories of his yelling at Asgore. "I'm telling you, you idiot, all I did was cry or yell or be stupid."

"All everyone else did was simply give me feedback I wanted to hear," Asgore said, smiling. "With your contrary opinion, I was able to ask myself: do I want this?" he said. "I asked Asriel at the memorial: do I want this?"

"Asriel," he murmured to himself. The memorial's lullaby didn't carry this long a distance, not as far as he knew, but he could hear it now still. He looked up again and met his father's eyes. "Listen. Asgore. I... I'm not... I mean, I'm..."

Asgore listened patiently, a hand resting over his heart nearby where the locket was kept. Asriel, he thought. The word wasn't stolen by the barrier. It was on the tip of his tongue, just a breath away from changing everything. Flowey tried to answer. He truly, truly did with all the soul in his body.

But he didn't know.

"I'm... Flowey the flower," he said finally, wilting ever so slightly.

Asgore simply gave a small chuckle, the kind he did when he was tired. Not necessarily tired of him-- a lot had happened in the past few hours. "Hello, Flowey," he said. "I am Asgore."

Asgore had all the clues to put together Flowey's 'real' identity, sure, but it relieved Flowey that he wasn't the sharpest monster in the Underground. Then again, what did Flowey know about any other monster anymore? Maybe he did know and, like any good father, wasn't pushing his child into anything he wasn't ready for. Maybe he didn't know and would be happier that way after all.

Maybe... Maybe... and Flowey just shook it out of his head and spoke again. "What about me?" Flowey asked, after a moment. "How do I make you feel?"

"Very, very happy," Asgore said, his eyes misting over again. Flowey supposed he hadn't been the only crybaby in the family.

With a gasp, Flowey found himself being embraced again and he sank into the hug as if he hadn't felt affection in his life. Asgore had given him a hug once- gentle, as so not to crush him- but his only frame of reference was to compare it to being strangled. It felt so different now, even if it had only been such a relatively short time. It felt like they were a family. It felt like he had a SOUL-- even if he didn't personally have one, just the love and warmth of everyone in New Snowdin.

There was a purpose to his reincarnation. Right now, it was not letting go. After that, he wasn't sure. This timeline was uncharted territory, and it still scared him, but he felt... hopeful. Deep down, although he didn't know what he would do next, he felt sure that he and his new friends could figure it out together.