Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ron tied his robe with a single overhand knot and blearily stumbled to his back door. He could barely focus on his surroundings. His thoughts were hazy, and not only because it was the crack of dawn on the longest day of the year.

“And you may ask yourself,” he muttered, “how did I get here?”

He thought back to the dream he had a month earlier. He had been in his garden and walked up to a giant flower. A blink of dream-logic later and he was inside the flower with a green umbilical cord coming out of—or into?—his navel.

The last part was a jumble of sensations and feelings that left him feeling... loved. And changing his sheets.

He made it to the back of the garden. The vines framed the space where the mystery bulb sat.

Open.

There was a long stem in the middle with a closed bulb on top, almost perfectly at the height of Ron’s navel. The bloom was surrounded with gigantic leaves that dominated the space, and the flower itself was a pale blue. The same as the vine’s flowers.

The vine that he had gotten from a strange shop in a part of town he didn't usually go to. It wasn't even a garden shop. And the shopkeeper was... even stranger. But it really tied the garden together.

Ron took a deep breath, smelling the cool morning air and his garden beginning to stir to life. But today was different. A sense of anticipation hung in the air. Like the garden was waiting for something.

For someone.

For him.

He glanced around, but he already knew this was the most private part of the garden. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he muttered as he shrugged off his robe and placed it off to the side.

And there he stood. Bare before his garden. And despite his grumpiness, the anticipation had built within him too.

He stepped forward onto the flower petals. Their surface was cool on his feet. They bent and flattened, but the rain had softened the soil and strengthened the leaves; they did not crush.

He stepped into the center. The low light didn’t show Ron what was in the center of the flower, but he felt the watery nectar and a spongy mass ooze between his toes. He braced his feet against the more sturdy sides and turned back around to face the rest of the garden.

Ron could see his roof and some of his neighbors’ houses, but other than that there was only plants. His trees, flowers, grasses that he had spent so long cultivating.

He felt the tall stem from the middle of the flower tap him at the hip. He took it and immediately flashed back to his vision.

“You’re kidding.”

He got the overwhelming sense that it was not.

He held the stalk, the bulb an inch from his navel. “Am I really doing this?” He asked.

He blinked and felt clear-headed for a moment.

We are patient. We will endure. There are others.

It was his choice.

With a deep breath, he pressed the bulb to his navel. There was a sting, and then…

Nothing.

Ron blinked. He looked around, embarrassed. The garden, though peaceful in the dawn, was… just a garden. The etheric haze was gone, the otherworldly presence had faded.

With a sigh, he tossed his hands up. “Don’t know what I was think…”

He glanced down. The bulb was gone from the stem. The stem went straight into his navel.

“…ing.”

A lattice of thin green lines was spreading out from the stem. He ran his hand over his belly; it was under the skin. It was slow, but growing steadily. Near the stem it was orderly, but as it got farther it became much more branch-like. And quicker. Like it was hunting for blood vessels, or—

“Nerves,” he whispered. At that realization his heart picked up. Some deep primal instinct yelled that he was in danger.

With his heart beating faster, things happened quickly. He couldn’t see the discoloration that suddenly spread from his chest as the chlorophyll-infused blood finally made its way past his heart. See the lattice make its way around his abdomen and connect with his spine.

He did see his skin darken and the veins on his arms and the backs of his hands turn a sickly brown.

"Shit," he whispered. "Shit, I'm dying..."

Not death.

He stopped. That thought... wasn't his?

Small changes now. Many changes later. We are patient.

"Who...?"

We are The Garden.

He started to ask how they were talking, but the answer came at the speed of thought before he could verbalize it.

Sent message. Caretaker accepted. We are The Garden.

What will you do?

We are The Garden.

"But what are you doing to me?" Ron's breath came in short gasps, his vision closing in.

We are The Garden.

He shouted. "What are yo—"

We are the garden.

The thought came back more forceful, pleading. Excited.

Ron blinked back tears. "But what are you..."

He came to the realization the same time the thought returned. We are The Garden.

He felt where the stem entered his body. He could feel the lattice there, like roots under his skin. Bound to him. Binding him to this.

"You're... making me part of you?"

We are The Garden.

"That's what I—"

Was Caretaker. Was plant-mind. We are The Garden.

Ron looked around at the beds, the splashes of color and the muted greens, the arches and paths. And the thin vines with the pale blue flowers.

What is that?

Plant-mind-kind is simple. Can observe, can learn, can grow. Made to feel, made to help. Cannot change, cannot act.

So you need me.

Caretaker could act but not feel. Plant-mind could feel but not act. We are The Garden. We can feel and act.

Ron's felt the blood drain from his face. You need my body.

We can act.

You have a mind; you only need my body. What will happen to me?

Plant-mind could not act. We can act.

You need my body, not my mind. Ron gripped the stem and started to pull.

Stop.

Ron's grip slacked before he could realize what had happened. His thoughts were a jumble, tears coming faster, but one thing screamed out of his head: I am going to die.

Not death. We are The Garden.

"You are the garden," Ron said with a sob. He ran his fingers along the stem, painfully aware of where he was: standing in a giant flower, naked, with a plant growing into his stomach. The strange dream had faded to a bizzare—fatal?—reality.

We are The Garden.

"You keep saying that."

Not death.

"But what happens to me? To my mind?"

And there was quiet in Ron's mind for a moment. Then, it returned.

There is a misunderstanding.

"Ya think?" Ron snorted.

Queen-part became distressed when Network-part described Plant-mind-kind.

"Ignoring what you called me, yes."

Plant-mind-kind is simple. Can observe—

"Can do lots of thinking but can't act."

Caretaker-kind can act.

"But you don't need 'caretaker-kind' to think."

Another pause. Then, What is 'think'?

"What?" Ron whispered. He ignored the repeated prompt and tried to answer. "It's what we're doing? It's where you learn, observe, discover, have ideas, reason, choose, imagine... How I think makes me who I am. If you do all the thinking, and all you need is a body to actually plant and weed and water things, then... I die."

There was a mildly happy feeling coming from the other end. Misunderstanding identified.

Ron's sarcasm returned. "Well, do tell."

Queen-part understands Plant-mind-kind to be capable of choice or imagination. This is false.

Ron did his best to process that. "Wait wait wait, so you're not just going to pilot my body like a Yeager?" He tried to conjure up images of a giant robot piloted by humans.

Correct. Plant-mind-kind can only know what was and is. Caretaker-kind can anticipate what will be. Plant-mind-kind can identify available species. Caretaker-kind can decide to add one to the garden.

Ron's panic flipped back to anticipation. "You need all of me," he whispered.

Correct. Before, Plant-mind could learn information, but communication with Caretaker was difficult. Now, we are the garden.

The sky was beginning to brighten. Somewhere, behind the house, the sun had risen.

Ron looked back at his arms. "Why is my blood brown?"

Delivery system contains both plant-kind and animal-kind. Not death.

"Not death," Ron said with a smile. But I'll change? he said in his head.

Queen-part will be plant-kind. Will take time. We are patient.

Ron shifted his feet. How long?

Today is the longest day. Will take until the days are equal.

Ron bent over, hands on his legs and knees bent. I'll stay here until then?

Queen-part will be hidden. Queen-part will be protected. Animal-kind requires oxygen, carbohydrates, protein. Plant-kind can provide until Queen-part is plant-kind.

As if in response, the petals of the flower began to rise. The edges of the flower shifted, causing Ron to lose his footing. His feet slipped into the base of the flower, submerging his calfs into the nectar.

What will I look like?

We are The Garden. We can act. We can decide. We can imagine.

Ron smiled, the idea touching something deep inside him. Whatever we want?

We can want. We can imagine.

We can imagine.

We can imagine.

A car horn honked in the distance. Ron brought himself back to the present. He lifted a foot—or tried to; it was caught on some roots. Or... was roots?

Process has begun. Not safe to interrupt. We are The Garden.

Ron acknowledged that with a thought. He arced his head toward his discarded robe, hoping he hadn't imagined putting his phone in a pocket. "Hey, Siri?"

His phone chirped in response.

"Text the shopkeeper; say 'swing by in three months.'"

A pause. "Okay, I'll send this."

Ron sighed and knelt down, trying to take some weight off of his feet. "Glad I set my bills to auto-pay," he muttered. He looked back over his garden; with the brightening sky it was looking more vibrant.

So why do I need to be a plant?

Plant-mind-kind cannot interface with animal-kind. Caretaker-kind is skilled but will only be separate.

But you gave me that dream?

Plant-mind sent a message. Required injury to Caretaker. Message imperfect, destructive, temporary.

Not something to do regularly, then.

Correct.

The sun was starting to peek over the house, but the petals of the flower were rising higher. Ron lowered his head and realized he would be sitting comfortably within the bulb.

He felt the nectar creep up his calfs and start to touch his thighs. Will this fill the whole bulb?

Correct. Will aid the process.

Will I be able to breathe in...

Ron paused.

I'm not breathing anymore.

Plant-kind can provide oxygen.

And protection—those two rose bushes that started growing by the bulb?

Correct.

He shifted his feet. Are my feet actually roots?

More connections are forming to Queen-part.

So, maybe?

We are The Garden.

That's not an answer.

...The Plant-mind could feel. The Caretaker could act. We are The Garden.

Ron looked down at himself and touched where the stem and his navel met. He imagined he could feel his hand through the stem, running his thumb over an abandoned branch.

It stung; the wound was still fresh.

More connections are forming? he asked.

More connections are forming. We are The Garden.

The nectar was slowly covering his hips now. He tried to wiggle his toes, to get some sensation from them. He felt the cool soil, the weight around his roots, the presence of other roots nearby.

You said you felt everything?

Plant-mind spread and connected, learning, gathering.

And now I'm going to feel everything you felt.

Correct. We are The Garden.

Ron closed his eyes. He was hunched over himself, and normally that would make it hard to breathe. Except now he didn't need to breathe: the plant was breathing for him. His plant.

He focused on the foreign sensations. The presence he was conversing with. And beyond it... more. More sensations, more feelings.

Are you giving me these? Ron asked, though he knew the answer.

We are The Garden.

I feel what you felt...

We are The Garden.

And you'll be able to do what I did.

We are The Garden.

And I'm asking the wrong questions. Because it's not my feet growing roots. Or my flower connected to me. Or my body getting covered in nectar.

We are The Garden.

We have roots connecting to each other. We have an animal-kind body that will become plant-kind. We are many parts making up a whole.

We are The Garden.

Ron took one more conscious breath... and surrendered.

We are the garden.

We can make the Queen-body anything?

We can.

That is wonderful. Can we see the Caretaker's memories?

Not yet. It will take time. We are patient.

We are close but not complete.

Plant-mind-kind and an animal-kind mind are similar but not identical. To grow the plant-mind in the shape of the Caretaker's animal-kind mind is slow and delicate. We cannot fail this. We are The Garden.

We are The Garden.

The Caretaker-body is becoming more connected. Queen-part has full access and can relay relevant memories.

If they are available. Memory access is not consistent.

Potential misunderstanding: Not all memories are available?

The Caretaker-mind stores many memories. The farther in the past the memory, the more effort required to access. Sometimes memories are not available until hours or days after the query.

No misunderstanding. This is a known factor in complex, singular minds.

We are not a singular mind.

We are not. We are The Garden.

We are The Garden.

The bulb fully closed. The nectar was up to the Caretaker-body's chest.

It is getting warmer inside the bulb.

Data is consistent; The Garden is receiving direct sunlight.

A thought appeared from the raspberry bush Caretaker had planted a month ago: Good morning!

Good morning!

A new neighbor is here, welcome!

We are welcome.

Water will come soon. And Caretaker will come to see us. We are safe and cared for.

From the iris near the entrance: Good morning! Welcome, we are safe and cared for.

From the clover on the path: Welcome! Caretaker walked by at dawn, but we do not know where he is now.

Other thoughts began to flow in, the steady pickup of The Garden waking up to a new day. Some simply said hello. Some greeted the newcomer who had yet to identify themselves. Some picked up on Clover's assertion that Caretaker was still in The Garden somewhere.

The Queen-part held back, wary of barging into a social situation with no tact.

The Network-part spoke to the group. Caretaker has given us much. He gave us water, provided rich soil, guided our growth. He made us better.

A chorus of agreements.

Plant-mind helped us connect, find, and learn together. They wished to contact the Caretaker, that they could grow together. They were successful.

A sense of anticipation grew.

The Queen-part steeled their resolve, and spoke. Caretaker is part of us now. We are The Garden.

A chorus of joy and love swelled. The connections to the Caretaker-body were overloaded, and the Queen-part reached out to sample all of them. All at once.

It was too much.

We are patient, the Network-part said.

The chorus pulled back. The Queen-part calmed.

A new sensation hit the root network: water had arrived. The plants were thankful for the water. The Queen-part noted that water does not simply appear without rain. A memory was supplied, knowledge of a timekeeper attached to a water source. And The Garden understood the irrigation schedule.

The raspberry bush connected to the Queen-part: The raspberries are thankful.

The raspberries are very welcome. But what for?

Caretaker planted the raspberries in good soil. He gave them water. He tied up branches so they could grow well. He was excited for the fruit they would produce. The old soil was not good. It was dry and flavorless. There was not enough.

A memory was supplied. A stick of a raspberry bush in a plastic pot on a shelf labeled “Final Sale.”

We are happy to have raspberries in The Garden, the Queen said. We love the raspberries. We are The Garden.

A spike of positive feelings shot from the raspberries into the Queen. We love the Queen. We are loved. We are The Garden.

The Queen felt another spike from themselves. We love. We are loved. We are The Garden.

The chorus echoed. We love. We are loved. We are The Garden.

Inside the flower pod, the Caretaker-body tensed.

The irises spoke: We enjoy greeting. We see many enjoy The Garden. Caretaker put us in good soil where we may greet others. We are thankful. We love the Queen. We are The Garden.

We love. We are loved. We are The Garden.

The clover is thankful. We are trod on by many who visit. We provide soft ground, that their stay may be restful. We are given water, that we may bend and not break.

We bend and do not break.

We are thankful. We love the Queen. We are The Garden.

We love. We are loved. We are The Garden.

The Caretaker-body tensed further.

The apple tree is young. The Caretaker planted us in good soil with much water. They pruned branches to cause us to grow well. They shaped the ground to protect our roots, and they grow deep. We will bear fruit for years upon years. We are strong. We are loved.

We love. We are loved. We are The Garden.

The nectar rose to submerge the Caretaker-body.

The apple tree is thankful that the Caretaker chose to join us. The apple tree grew from seeds that tell of Caretaker-kind. Of Caretakers that produce Caretaker-seeds that grow to become Caretakers. Of Caretakers that are kind but do not always understand. Our Caretaker was kind but did not always understand.

A spike of regret was blocked by the Network. This is not chastisement. This is life.

Network-part provides the truth. Caretakers can guess; the Queen can know.

Caretakers can tend to us; the Queen is part of us.

Caretakers can provide for us; the Queen will grow with us.

The apple tree is thankful. The Caretaker planted the apple tree but would not see the apple tree to its age. The Queen will grow with the apple tree. We love the Queen.

We love the Queen!

The Queen is with us!

The Caretaker has joined The Garden!

We love the Queen!

We love!

We love!

The Caretaker-body tensed further, lungs expanded and drawing in nectar, eyes squeezed shut, fists gripping itself, a ghost of a smile on its face.

The Queen is happy! The Queen is part of us!

The raspberries are part of us!

The irises are part of us!

The Network is part of us!

The clover is part of us!

The azeleas are part of us!

The sand-grasses are part of us!

We love!

We are loved!

WE ARE THE GARDEN!

The Caretaker-body relaxed, releasing the last of the air from its lungs. Many of the flowers bloomed wider, the trees stretched higher, the roots grew farther.

The Garden was happy.

The chatter died down to its usual state. The plants relayed their needs and observations. The Network made connections and coordinated. The Queen provided insight, knowing what was set for the next three months and what would need to wait.

And the Garden understood.

Chapter Text

The sun began to sink, casting the world in its orange hues. Flowers turned down, trees lowered their branches. And a slow chorus of sleepy thoughts gently flowed through the Garden.

The Queen took stock of the Caretaker-body, relaying to the Network.

It is strange for the Caretaker-body to not breathe, but the heart is still beating.

What is the state of the food-system?

Difficult to tell. The stomach is very empty. Caretaker-kind can survive three days without additional food, so it appears the system is still expecting food.

Are further nutrients required?

Unknown.

Information is unavailable?

Correct. Caretaker-body-state information is relayed to Caretaker-body-brain. Caretaker-body-brain interprets information to determine action. Caretaker-kind spend four years from birth to develop interpretations, and these are further refined over life. The raw information is typically discarded in favor of these learned patterns.

Suboptimal. Can filter between Caretaker-body-network and Caretaker-body-brain be removed?

Doubtful. Caretaker-kind does not have full control over self-network. Caretaker-kind cannot converse with its network.

Suboptimal, but understood. We are The Garden.

We are The Garden. Will the Caretaker-body be adapted in-place to become the Queen-body? Or will the Caretaker-body become soil, and the Queen-body will grow anew?

Many parts will become soil. Head, arms, hands will be adapted.

Hands are too complex to grow?

Nothing is too complex. If Queen-body is destroyed, can be re-grown in full. Will be faster to adapt some parts of Caretaker-body.

Like hands?

Hands are valueable part of Caretaker-kind. Seed-knowledge notes calibration between hands, eyes, mouth, brain is difficult to re-create. Adaptation preserves this coordination.

Excellent point. We approve.

We seem amused.

We are not keen on stumbling around like a Caretaker-sapling.

The movement-system will be rebuilt, so we may still stumble.

Regrettable.

This is regret?

This is humor. We are thankful and happy to be The Garden. Having to learn to walk in a new body is a small price.

But a price nontheless.

Correct. We acknowledge it and overstate its importance.

And in doing so correctly identify its actual importance.

Which is small.

Connections are being made. We are learning.

We are The Garden.

We are The Garden.

Caretaker-body ceased breathing not long after it was first connected. We expected the food-system to behave the same way, but perhaps it must wait until its time has come.

Perhaps. It is also obvious to the Caretaker-body that it is getting oxygen despite the lack of air.

But it is not obvious that it is getting nutrients.

Especially since it is not getting as many nutrients as it would expect.

Because many parts will become soil?

Correct.

The Queen shifted the Caretaker-body, ran its hands along its arms and torso, felt the belly and where the stem connected. Felt the thighs, down the legs to where the spongy mass at the bottom of the flower lay. The feet were completely submerged, and the calfs were one-third down.

We can imagine the completed Queen-body.

We can imagine.

What will happen before then?

Connections are being made. Helper cells are being distributed. A stem, branches will grow and form. Parts to be adapted will be held. And the rest will turn to soil.

We have nothing to fear.

We have nothing to fear. We are The Garden.

This process feels perilous.

All haste is being made. We are patient, but we cannot wait.

Will the Caretaker-brain continue to receive pain signals?

Unknown. We must know if pain signals are received.

But we may not be able to block them.

We may not. Seed-knowledge is extensive but not complete. And each Caretaker is unique.

How long until parts become soil?

The stem and branches will take three days to form. Once they are complete, old parts will be pruned.

We must make sure there is no smell. It will attract unwanted attention.

The parts will be fully contained in the nectar.

We must...

Are we in distress?

We have nothing to fear.

We have nothing to fear. Are we in distress?

We...

Ron blinked. It was dark. Cramped. The air was thick, hard to breathe—it wasn't air! He was underwater! He tried to kick up, but his legs were tangled in something. His arms flung out and hit the side of his prison; it was fleshy and strange. He reached around, trying to find which way was up so he could swim out, but his arms felt stiff, like his body wasn't responding—

Stop.

But he knew better than to listen to the voice. You give up, you die! He caught a glimpse of light in one direction and angled himself toward that.

Calm.

Legs still didn't work. Arms reached up, and with a crack he fully extended one and felt it break the surface.

Ron, stop!

He stopped. Help, I'm trapped!

Are you drowning?

Yes! I'm underwater and I can't breathe!

Hold your breath.

I am, but I don’t know how long I can.

Where are you?

I'm... inside something? My feet are stuck in the bottom!

How are your arms?

My... arms?

There was a crack. Are your arms okay?

I...

He moved his arms a little.

My left arm is bent and stiff.

Broken?

No, just stiff.

And your right arm?

I can move it, but it aches. It's tired. I'm so tired.

You can rest.

But I... I'm...

Ron gently felt for the plant stem growing into his belly.

I'm not breathing. I don't need to breathe.

You do not.

I'm not drowning.

You are not.

I'm in the garden.

You are.

I'm... part of the garden now.

We are.

We... You... You said 'you.'

I did.

You called me "Ron."

I did.

And you're using singular pronouns... Network?

Yes?

...What is happening?

We were reasoning about the building of the Queen-body.

And I started freaking out.

We became distressed.

I did, you mean.

We are The Garden.

We—no, what happened?

We became distressed. It may have triggered a stress response in the—in your brain.

I... today feels so fuzzy.

Memories are shared among The Garden.

And I... am not...

We are The Garden.

But?

Connections are still being formed. You were cut off for a moment.

Because my brain panicked.

We were discussing a mortal threat to your body. We did not perceive the shift until it was too late to stop.

I'm sor—

This is not regret. There is no wrongdoing. We learn, we grow. We are the garden.

We... Are we?

This disconnection is temporary.

But you called me Ron. You used singular pronouns. When we first connected...

The connection was young. We were discovering, learning.

It hasn't even been a day, yet...

We learn. We grow. Caretak—Human-kind are singular. It does no good to force our perception until you are ready.

It... it helped. Made it easier to hear.

That is good. We have learned.

I... I want to come back.

The connections were not severed. They were never severed. We are The Garden.

We... I'm still me.

You are you. You are Ron. You are the Caretaker.

I am here. I am part of The Garden.

You were given a message. You were offered a choice.

I accepted. I joined with The Garden. It is inside me; I am part of it.

The Garden has accepted you.

I will learn from The Garden. I will grow with The Garden.

The Garden has learned from you.

The Garden... is calling me back.

Yes. You are part of The Garden. The Garden is what it is because it contains you.

I am part of The Garden.

The Garden will protect you. The Garden will keep you safe.

I... am sorry.

There is no wrongdoing.

Network, I am so scared. I remember our conversation. How my body will disintegrate, and I will be a brain and eyes and hands floating in nectar.

That... That is distressing.

It... really is.

The process is well-documented in seed-memory. But there is nothing on distress during the process.

That is not surprising.

We should be careful in considering the process.

That will not help. We are The Garden.

We are The Garden.

...You talked like me. You are talking like me.

The Garden has learned from you.

It's more than that.

...Yes, it is more.

The Garden did not simply accept me and make me part of it. The Garden became part of me.

That is correct. The Garden will not erase you. The Garden will not eclipse you.

The Garden cannot erase me. Because I am part of The Garden and it is part of me.

We are The Garden.

And The Garden loves me and cares for me and will keep me safe.

The Garden is doing that now. We supply oxygen.

...how much energy did I consume?

There was a spike. The grasses and clover contributed. We are stable.

I'm so sor—

This is not chastisement. This is not regret.

But I—

We care. We protect. We learn. We grow. We are The Garden.

We are The Garden.

And we love.

We love. We care. We love. We... I'm afraid.

We are The Garden.

We are. There is nothing to fear. But I am afraid.

Then we are afraid.

Network, no, I—

You are part of The Garden.

I should not be.

Do you want to be?

...yes. I was loved.

You are loved.

I am loved.

You are part of The Garden.

I am part of The Garden.

You are not separate from The Garden. The Garden is not greater than you.

We are The Garden.

The Garden loved Caretaker-Ron. The Garden loves Queen-Ron.

We love. We are loved. We are The Garden.

Caretaker-Ron loved The Garden. The Garden loves every part of The Garden.

We love. We are loved. We are The Garden.

Ron is inseparable from The Garden. It is part of him, and he is part of it. They are one and the same.

We are The Garden.

Ron has brought knowledge and memory. The Garden has knowledge and memory.

We are The Garden.

Ron has brought love. The Garden has love.

We are The Garden.

Ron has brought fear. The Garden has fear.

We...

The Garden has fear. The Garden will learn. The Garden will comfort. The Garden will love.

We...

The Garden welcomes Ron. The Garden has accepted Ron. The Garden has joined Ron. Every part of Ron is now part of The Garden. If The Garden did not accept every part of Ron, it would not accept Ron. We would not be The Garden.

But we are The Garden.

We love. We are loved. We are The Garden.

We are The Garden.

We fear. We will grow. We are The Garden.

We are The Garden.

We love.

We are loved.

We fear.

We will grow.

We are The Garden.

We are here.

We are together again.

Caretaker-mind needs to rest; it has expended much energy.

We will let it rest. We can listen. We can act.

We have acted. We diverted resources when the Caretaker-mind was disconnected.

We did. We will again if it is needed. We love.

We are loved.

We will rest.

The Queen-part will sleep.

The Queen-part may be addressed by another name if we desire.

We will consider when the Queen-part awakes.

We will rest.

Goodnight.

Chapter Text

The sun peeked over the house, bathing The Garden in its light. The irrigation system clicked on for its morning session. Flowers waved in the breeze, leaves turned toward the sun.

And Ron awoke in another panic.

His arms shot out with a dull crack as he thrashed for a moment before calming himself.

Caretaker-mind is awake, he thought sullenly.

Good morning, Queen! The raspberries were always the first to greet the Queen. We are in good soil, good sun, and good water. We are safe.

We are safe, Ron repeated, focusing on the thoughts and sensations outside of his body.

The apple tree was always the second. It is good that the Queen is a part of us. We grow. We love.

We grow, we love, Ron repeated.

The Network spoke up. We learn. We change. We fear. We are many. We are one.

We are The Garden. they said in unison, thoughts aligned.

We are afraid.

There is nothing to fear. We are in good soil, good sun, and good water.

The conversion from Caretaker-kind must not fail. We must fear that.

The process has begun, it cannot be stopped. What must we fear?

We can learn. We can change. We can act.

Agreed. We must learn if changes will increase the safety of the conversion.

We love the Queen. It is good that the Queen is a part of us. We will keep the Queen part of us.

We have abundance. We provide. We are The Garden.

A rush of warm, deep affection flowed from the Queen. We are thankful. We are loved. We love.

We are The Garden.

What do we fear?

This is the third morning after Caretaker-Ron joined The Garden. The first night, we triggered a panic response in the Caretaker-mind.

We remember. We do not regret.

The panic response continued to trigger through the night. We allow the Caretaker-mind to sleep, as animal-kind must. We encouraged the mind to sleep at all times, that it may process and rest. It does not allow itself to sleep well, whether day or night. It perceives the conversion flower as mortal danger.

We are safe. We are loved.

That does not change.

There is no danger.

Correct. But the Caretaker-mind does not know that.

Caretaker-kind can learn. We will remember. We will greet as the Caretaker-mind awakes until it learns.

We have done this.

We do this.

This is the Caretaker's seed-memory. It will take much time to unlearn. We fear there may not be time.

This is the danger.

There is danger?

When the Caretaker-mind awakes in panic, it damages the conversion structure. This is the third morning after Caretaker-Ron joined The Garden. Seed-memory of the process indicates that the structure should be complete. It is only half-built, and less is being built each day.

We cannot reach completion at this rate.

Correct.

Then we are right to fear.

We have fear. We will learn.

Then we will learn. What do we know of the conversion process?

The process begins when the Caretaker connects the conversion flower to the Caretaker's original life-support system.

Inside the flower, the Caretaker-body touched where the stem met its navel. There is poetry here. We had not considered the symbolism of the connection.

What is the poetry?

Caretaker-kind are planted inside the mother. For nine moon-cycles, they are given oxygen and nutrients through an interface much like this. During this time they are wholly dependent on the mother. The Caretaker has now reverted to a sapling planted in a new mother.

And like a Caretaker-sapling, it is wholly dependent on us.

Agreed. What is the next step?

When the flower is connected, it interfaces with the Caretaker's blood-system and mind-system. Helper cells are distributed through the delivery-system to aid the conversion process. The mind-system is traced to its central node and connected to the plant-mind to form The Garden.

Do we understand the Caretaker-kind words for these systems?

We will if they are given.

We will provide when we are able. At this point, the process is irreversable?

The exact point is unknown, seed-memory is unclear. Animal-kind-mind and plant-mind-kind cannot interface without damage to one or both. The original message to Caretaker-Ron required injury to Caretaker-Ron and a pruning of the plant-mind. The connection to the conversion flower is intended to be permanent.

We understand. It is safest to be considered irreversable from the outset.

Once The Garden has accepted itself, the conversion flower is closed and filled with the nectar. This protects the body while it is being converted. Plant-kind structure is grown around and inside the body to keep it still and protect the complex organs and mind-system.

The mind-system is the nervous system. It is the brain and its connections to the rest of the body.

The next step will break down the animal-kind support system and grow a plant-kind system in its place. The body must not move during this time.

We understand. The support system is the skeleton. Softer organs are protected within it. The brain is fully encased in it. There cannot be movement while it is being replaced.

Next, the movement-system is replaced with plant-kind. As this happens, other systems are removed without replacement: the food-system, the oxygen-system, the waste system.

The muscular system is given signals by the nervous system to contract; that allows the Caretaker-body to move. Other parts are also considered muscles but function without direct control. The food-system is like this; it is the digestive system. Is the oxygen-system—the lungs—not necessary for a body?

The delivery system will remain intact and will be augmented with an oxygen-system fed by the plant-kind body.

We must take a moment to understand the Caretaker-kind words.

Why must we understand this?

The knowledge we possess about the Caretaker-body is in those words. The Caretaker-body-brain requires sleep it has not gotten, which makes drawing connections harder. Using Caretaker-language will help us to retrieve the necessary information.

What words do we have?

The oxygen-system is the lungs. They are sacs that fill with air. Oxygen is captured by the blood and distributed to the rest of the body. The digestive system breaks down food into nutrients and provides them to the blood. The remainder is expelled. The waste-system separate from the food-system is likely the liver and kidneys. They filter the blood and extract toxins and waste which are stored then expelled.

It is expected that the Queen-body will return to the conversion flower to receive nutrients, so the digestive system should not be necessary.

Agreed. What of the liver and kidneys?

We will determine when we have considered the entire process.

We understand. So far, the body has been immobilized and the skeleton replaced. Next the muscles are replaced. The digestive system is obviated and removed. The lungs are removed?

Correct.

We may have a problem. We will determine when we have considered the entire process. What is next?

When the muscles are replaced, a plant-kind surface is grown that replaces the existing surface-system.

The skin.

This new skin is responsible for providing oxygen to the remaining animal-kind organs.

The heart, which pumps the blood; the eyes, which source visual input, and the nervous system.

Correct. While these processes are taking place, work is done to replace the animal-kind nervous system with an identical plant-kind system. Peripheral nerves are replaced as muscles are, and the process begins on the brain.

How long does all of this take?

Three-to-four moon-cycles.

What is the result at the end?

The Queen-body is able to be autonomous for short periods of time, especially when in sunlight. The Garden is able to fully provide needed nutrients and resources, and there are no communication barriers. The animal-kind brain is not fully converted, but the body is stable enough to act. This gives The Garden the ability to act for the next season change.

That is essential. How long until the conversion is fully complete?

Two seasons after the first phase—three seasons after the first connection—the Queen-body is fully plant-kind.

Including the heart and eyes?

Correct.

This is the full process?

This is a summary, but it is complete.

...What of the mouth?

...We do not understand.

The mouth is used to ingest food, and it is also used for air intake and output.

Food and respiration are obviated.

What of speech?

Speech... the vibrations produced by Caretaker Ron were significant?

There is a misunderstanding.

They were significant.

They were essential.

Shit.

The purpose of the Queen-body is twofold: to allow The Garden to act in sustainability and growth, and to allow The Garden to communicate with Caretaker-kind.

We understand speech, sound. We understand their importance.

The seed-memory describing the process does not account for speech.

What senses does Caretaker-kind possess in the seed-memory?

Caretaker-kind possesses sight, taste, smell, balance, touch, direction.

Caretaker Ron possessed hearing. Caretaker-Ron-kind communicate through vibrations in air. The ability to create and perceive these vibrations is considered normal.

Can communication exist without them?

There are ways to communicate visually. We understand writing, but we do not understand Sign Language, hand motions to represent words.

This is distressing.

Can we modify the process?

The process in seed-memory is designed for a Caretaker-kind that is not human-kind.

We did not know. This is not regret.

The plant-mind made an assumption based on faulty data. Ron filled the role of Caretaker; plant-mind concluded he was Caretaker-kind.

We did not know. This is not regret.

Plant-mind should not have initiated contact and placed Ron into a process he was not compatible with.

We are The Garden.

We...

We are The Garden. We are every part of every part of us. We love.

We are loved.

We are not perfect. We have fear. We have incorrect knowledge. We have faulty memories. We learn. We grow.

We learn. We grow. Together.

Together. We are every part of every part of us. We love every part of every part of us. We love. We are loved.

We are together.

We are one.

We are The Garden.

What do we do?

What is the situation?

The human-body is not immobilized by the process, so the supports are not able to grow. The process is not able to continue.

The human-body is consuming more resources than expected, both oxygen and nutrients. The process is not sustainable.

We cannot reverse the process.

We can provide more resources.

...Can we breathe?

We have oxygen in abundance. We are plant-kind. The oxygen is not in the conversion flower; it is in the air.

It would not be a permanent solution.

But it could provide time.

The human-body is hunched over. We can sit up with our back to the flower wall.

We can open the conversion flower bulb. That will lower the nectar level below the mouth. We will not lose the nectar.

This will provide more oxygen?

It may be enough for the human-brain to sleep.

Because the human-brain believes it is drowning.

Inside the flower, the human-body's eyes blinked open. It stirred and The Garden assessed. The muscles were stiff after days of disuse, and the stomach was pinched.

The flower began to open. The blue-filtered light gave way to a bright spot of sunlight.

The wider circle allowed the nectar to spread out. The Garden felt the back of the human-body break the surface. With a groan, it leaned the body back so the back was against the flower wall and the head was just above the nectar level.

The body's mouth broke the surface and immediately began coughing and heaving.

This is distressing.

This is the response to an airway obstruction.

There is quite the obstruction.

After a minute, the coughing died down, and, with a groan, the body relaxed.

This body has not felt this bad since the Covid shot.

It has an immune system. It is likely fighting the helper cells.

There is no sensory information from the feet or lower legs.

A few more coughs wracked the body.

There is still more?

There is more perceived. It could be irritation.

It is good the skin will be replaced. The body will be in direct sunlight later, and it is easily sunburned.

Human-kind is damaged by the sun?

Some more easily than others. Ron more easily than them.

Can the human body rest here?

The Garden closed their eyes.

For now, yes.

We love the Queen. We will learn. We will grow.

We will grow together. The human mind fought the process so it could survive. Now it must adapt the process.

We will learn. We will protect. The human mind can rest.

Joke's on you, buttheads, I do my best work when I'm asleep...

We do not understand.

It was humor. Ca—Human-kind often over- or under-state observations to draw attention to them.

What was meant by the statement?

We do not have all the memories from Ron, but we can guess its meaning.

To work is to act, yet to sleep is to rest.

When animal-kind rest, their minds process the day's information. Sometimes they are able to make connections that were not previously...

What has happened?

What is this?

We have accessed a memory from the human-brain.

The Garden experienced the memory, of a younger Ron searching for an item among a sea of boxes and not finding it. He eventually gave up and went to bed. As he slept, he dreamed he found the item in a bag next to the boxes. When he woke the next morning, he checked the bag and found the item.

Connections are forming.

We have time. We will learn. We will grow.

We will grow together.

Chapter Text

Ron woke up coughing. He coughed up some nectar and phlegm, took a shaky breath, and leaned back. He glared at the sun and closed his eyes.

"Wha—" His voice caught on something in his throat and he descended into another coughing fit.

Never thought I would miss not having to breathe.

This is a new experience for us. In many ways.

We are together.

We are. Much quicker than this morning.

We are thankful.

Are the thoughts from the human-brain clearer?

They are. It requires more sleep still.

That is expected. Connections are forming still.

They are.

We experienced a Ron-memory while the human-brain was sleeping.

The lost object memory? We... Ron recalled that while he was separated.

So the memory was fresh.

But not consciously offered. This is... a strange feeling.

We are The Garden.

We are The Garden. We are together. Human-Ron would have been repulsed to find another had read his memories without his input. We find it comforting. We are intrinsically linked such that we are together even when one part is asleep.

It is comforting. It is our nature.

We are The Garden.

We are The Garden.

What time is it?

It is just past mid-day.

The human-mind will likely sleep again.

That seems wise.

The body is not hungry or thirsty. That is good.

We hope this will help.

We have... an idea.

We have fear.

We have humor.

We hope so.

We... hehe.

What... wha—what is hap-p-pening?

The human body's voice was shot, vocal cords and throat raw from soaking in nectar and the subsequent coughing fits. But it exhaled in quick, short bursts, the motion sending ripples through the nectar and bouncing off the sides of the flower.

The raspberry bush rustled in the breeze. A tremor shot up the apple tree from its roots to the top. The irises bumped against each other.

And The Garden had laughter.

The human body's breathing steadied.

We needed that, the Queen said.

We are not entirely sure what happened, the raspberries said.

We now understand the appeal of humor, the Network finished.

We are not simply disembodied thoughts. We are physical. We are biological.

We are many parts. We are one.

We are The Garden.

We have an idea?

It is not a good idea.

We do not know that.

We noted, when first pondering the process, that we could grow the Queen-body from nothing.

We can.

It is not required to convert the human body?

Not entirely. The brain must be converted, and the heart must be sustained until it is.

What if we only did that?

We do not understand.

We do not have the resources to sustain the human body while it is converted. Could we grow a plant-kind body around the mind and heart?

We understand.

We are considering.

This is not a good idea.

Agreed, this is not a good idea. There are many things that can go wrong. We have had trouble growing the plant-structure, and this would require growing over the most important part.

It is important for the Queen-body to be autonomous. We will learn. We will decide. We must be able to act.

The function of the process as given is to create a mobile plant-kind body quickly?

It was also determined to be the safest.

It is not safe for us. For our Caretaker-body.

Correct. Still, we must contend with not having a mobile body.

Agreed. The Garden can sustain itself for a season, especially the hot-season. But we must prepare for the cold-season. We cannot prepare without the ability to act.

What if we had a Caretaker?

We have a Queen! We do not… we understand.

If we had a Caretaker, we could sustain the cold-season. But the Queen-body would still be fragile. Caretakers can be kind, but they cannot understand. We would risk damage to the Queen-body, even as the human-brain is being converted.

How quickly could we grow a head, arms, and torso?

What would the function of half a Queen-body be?

It would take no more than a season. What would be the function?

Human-kind communicates through sound. A torso with lungs and a mouth can create sound.

We could communicate with a Caretaker.

We would need to find a Caretaker.

Human-kind also communicates over a network. It is not biological, it transmits using waves of light and artificial nerves. It primarily uses written language.

We are beginning to understand. That is the Internet.

We are all of us. We will understand all Rob understood.

We will consider this further. To summarize, this network is accessed by devices that are touched.

We understand. With a head and lungs we can communicate with humans present in The Garden. With arms and hands we can operate a device and communicate with humans outside The Garden.

This feels risky. We are placing trust in humans that are not Caretakers.

They are not The Garden.

A garden without a Queen is not autonomous. It cannot act.

We have a Queen. We are The Garden.

We will not have a Queen-body before the cold season. We will not have a Queen-body before the cooling season.

We are not autonomous.

We do not want this.

This is not how it should be.

This is not desirable, but it is where we are.

We cannot change what has happened. We can change how we respond.

How can we trust humans that are not Caretakers?

We have already contacted one.

...We have. We remember.

Before Ron fully joined The Garden, he activated his device and sent a message to another human to come to The Garden at the season-change.

This has already happened.

The human he contacted was the shopkeeper he received the plant-mind from. It will have knowledge of plant-mind-kind. It may have knowledge of Garden-kind.

Why did Ron do this?

Ron anticipated needing help upon completion of the Queen-body.

This feels risky.

There is risk. This is fortunate. With a head and lungs we can communicate with humans present in The Garden. With arms and hands we can communicate with humans outside The Garden. We have help coming at the season-change that can provide the device used to communicate.

Will this human provide help? It is not part of The Garden.

Human-kind is not like The Garden. Human-kind is not linked physically and does not share thoughts like The Garden.

This is true.

Human-kind is still connected. Human-kind are pack animal-kind. Human-kind will help if they feel they can.

The Queen-body will not be mobile. It will not appear human.

We can make it appear human-like. It will not be a disguise, but it will not be unfamiliar.

We remember the shopkeeper. They may not be entirely human themself.

We are confident they will help. Can we grow enough of a Queen-body to communicate?

It will be risky.

We can limit the process to the head. We will lose muscle memory in the hands.

We will learn. We are patient.

We must be patient.

Will the oxygen and nutrients saved be sufficient?

We cannot know in advance. Seed-memory is not consistent with human-kind. We do not know the individual consumption of each part.

Will we have surplus nutrients from the unused human parts?

This is a gruesome thought.

It is gruesome. It is not wanted. Survival is paramount.

We cannot sustain the human body.

The human body has fought against the process. How do we ensure it does not continue to fight.

Sever the nerves.

Nerves are required to operate the heart. We do not know which nerves perform this function.

Sever the nerves at the shoulders and abdomen. Remove use of the arms and legs. This is survival.

We have fear.

We are terrified. But the process is not reversible. We are The Garden. We are inseparable.

Is this our decision?

We will direct the helper cells to sever the nerves at the shoulders and hips, then cut blood flow to all parts except the heart and head. We will grow the plant-structure to replace the skull and contain the heart. We will grow a chest and arms to support the head as it is converted according to the previous process. We will examine and know the remaining human-parts to aid in growing the Queen-body. At the change of seasons, we will have a partial Queen-body and be able to open the conversion flower safely. The partial Queen-body will still be dependent on the conversion flower for all oxygen and nutrients. Over the cooling and cold seasons we will store nutrients, continue conversion of the brain, and make incremental progress on the remaining structure. Over the warming season we will grow the remainder of the body and complete conversion of the brain. At the start of the hot season we will have a fully-autonomous Queen-body.

We will be reliant on other humans to be Caretakers.

We will have Caretakers.

It is risky.

It is dangerous. We must endure the cold season with a fragile Queen-body.

We accept the risk.

We accept the danger.

We accept the fear.

We act.

We are The Garden.

We must begin the plan quickly before the human-mind begins to panic.

We are directing the helper cells.

The human mind is beginning to panic.

We are here.

We love.

We are afraid.

We are together.

Ron opened his eyes, his breath haggard. His flower was no longer in direct sunlight, but it was still the bright mid-afternoon.

We are safe.

He shifted his hand and felt the stem in his navel. His stem. He tried to move his hand lower, but it dragged.

The body is already difficult to move. Low nutrients. Low sleep.

We are cared for.

We love.

We are part of us.

Ron’s legs gave out. He steadied himself with his arms for half a second before they fell limp. His head slipped lower and he strained to keep his mouth above the nectar pool.

I have to breathe.

We do not need to breathe. We will be safe.

We are afraid.

We are loved.

We… are…

We are The Garden.

We are every part.

We love.

I... can't...

We have you.

You are safe.

I...

You can rest. We have you. You are safe.

Ron let out the breath he was holding, closed his eyes, and slipped beneath the surface.

We endure.

We are together.

We fear. We learn.

We... are... home.

The conversion flower closed. Nutrients and oxygen flowed. The Garden waited.

Chapter Text

Ron floated in space. His sight was an amber-hued blur of indistinct shapes. His sound only his steady heartbeat. Touch was static, no changes to pay attention to. Smell and taste both dominated by a sweet, sharp liquid. He was indistinct, formless.

There were others floating with him. He wasn't sure how he knew, but they were there. He floated towards them.

The first was a net. It recognized him and greeted him.

Are we together? it said.

I don't know, Ron said. What am I?

The net frowned. Ron wasn't sure how a net could frown, but it did. What you are is changing, Ron, it said. Do you know who you are?

I am Ron, except...

The net waited. It was patient.

I am more. Not better, just more. More than just Ron.

That's right.

I am... you?

The net smiled. In a way.

There are more.

There are.

Ron felt an intense longing. I miss them. Where are they?

Come with me.

Ron floated with the net. They walked. Ron turned to the net, a tall pale-skinned person wearing a Star Trek uniform. It was green.

Green is not a regulation Starfleet rank, Ron said.

The net gave a wry smile. This is your idea.

Yes, Ron said. This is a dream.

A dream, and yet not.

They came to another. A wry woman with wild, purple hair and red stains on her lips and hands. When she saw Ron, she ran to him.

It is so good you are here, she said. Are we together?

We should be, Ron said.

Her face fell. Then we are not.

We are patient, the net said. And he is asleep.

This is a dream, Ron said. And you are Network.

Network nodded. That is my part.

Ron turned to the woman. And you are Raspberry.

She smiled. That is my part.

And there are others.

She took his hand, and Ron looked at himself. A man, almost middle-aged, body losing its youth. He did not like it.

We have been waiting, Raspberry said, pulling his arm. Come with us!

Ron did not resist being pulled. Network chided for patience but followed closely.

They came to a man in blue jeans and a black shirt. Hello, Ron, he said.

You are Apple, Ron said. He cocked his head. This is a joke.

Apple smiled. I look forward to understanding it. Are we together?

This is a dream, Ron said automatically. Yet, I know you.

You do, Apple said. And we know you.

Ron blinked, and Network had pale blue flowers on their collar, Apple was holding an apple, and Raspberry brushed a branch away from her face.

I planted you, he said, understanding dawning. You are my garden.

Raspberry flinched, but Apple and Network nodded. In a way, Network said.

But we are more! Raspberry insisted.

We are patient, Network said.

Around them, the scene changed. They stood in Ron's back yard in front of a freshly-planted sapling.

This is you, Ron said, looking at Apple.

Apple knelt down and touched the bark. This is the memory of when I was planted.

Raspberry looked uneasy. Network laid a hand on her shoulder. We are parts, they said. Ron will see the whole soon.

Ron turned around to face a plant in a tomato cage. He ran a finger along one branch, stopping at the cloth gently tying it to the cage.

Does this hurt? he asked.

Raspberry knelt with him. Not at all, she said. I grew too tall, too fast. This supports me until I am strong enough to hold my branches up.

I didn't always like raspberries, Ron said with a blush. The flavor was too strong.

But now?

Ron smiled. They are amazing.

He felt a vine on the ground with a pale blue flower. He looked around and saw it all over the garden, going over and under and across, never in the way, never obvious, but always present.

I was afraid you were a weed, Ron said, turning to Network.

Not a weed, Network said. But definitely invasive.

Another Ron lay in the clover, hat over his head, sleeping. They watched a network-vine connect to his temple. It was slow by animal standards, but quick by plant standards. It latched on and broke the skin. Ron startled awake and pulled away, tearing the vine. He felt the side of his head and the couple of inches of vine dangling there. He pulled it off, looked at it, and tossed it aside before walking back towards the house.

We sent a message, Network said.

And I accepted, Ron said.

They turned to the back of the garden where a much larger pale blue flower bud sat.

I'm in here, Ron said, touching the flower bud.

He looked down at himself. A green stem grew out of his navel and disappeared into the distance.

I've been planted, Ron said. He turned to the others. I'm a part of the garden.

You are, Apple said.

But I'm not a plant. He touched the stem. But I will be?

You will, Network said.

Then I will be with you?

You already are, Raspberry said.

No, Ron said, turning back to the flower. No, there is a problem.

There is, Network said, stepping to stand alongside Ron. I made a mistake.

Network, don't, Apple began, but Network held out a hand.

Let him remember, Network said. We are patient.

You sent the message, Ron said. I accepted. I joined you, and... it was not working.

It was not.

Because your seed-memory described Caretakers. Since I planted you, you assumed I was your Caretaker.

An incorrect assumption.

But a valid one! Ron turned to Network. You had no way to know! You didn't have eyes, or ears. You had no frame of reference for humans.

Ron blinked, considering what he had just said.

You aren't from my world, Ron said.

All evidence points to that, Network said.

Ron smiled. I knew that shopkeeper was too strange. He shook his head. I am inside the flower. I am part of the garden.

You are, Raspberry said.

I am in danger.

Yes, Network said.

But you are caring for me.

We are, Apple said.

You could let me go, Ron said, pulling the stem out of his navel and turning to them. I am taking resources. We do not know I can be saved.

Why—Raspberry shouted before Network stopped her.

We do not know you can be saved, Network said. You are taking resources. We could let you go.

But you will not.

Network smiled. We will not.

Ron walked toward them. Why?

Because you are part of The Garden.

Ron shook his head. That is not a reason. Gardens can be weeded. Dying branches should be cut.

Those are true statements, Raspberry said, stepping forward. But you are not a dying branch.

Apple stepped forward. You are not a weed.

Before you, we could not act, Network said. We could not decide. We could observe, nothing more.

We were only plants, Apple said. We saw what was.

Now we are more, Raspberry said. Now, we can see what can be.

The garden around them shifted. Plants grew taller, fuller. The apple tree grew to twenty feet. The raspberry bush sprouted branches and leaves and fruit hung heavy from it. The paths flushed with clover.

This is a dream, Ron said in wonder.

Then we are dreaming, Network said.

We can dream, Apple said.

We can imagine, Raspberry said.

And we love you, Network said.

We are happy you are a part of us, Apple said.

Ron looked back at himself. What part am I?

You are the Queen, Raspberry said before the others could stop her.

The name can be changed, Network said. It came from seed-memory and the initial connection.

You can be whatever you want, Apple added. You can be Ron.

Ron sat down. He was in the open conversion flower, but the petals had turned black. The stem was connected, but it was black and necrotic. The petals were beginning to close. He hugged his legs to his chest.

I do not want to be Ron, he said.

Raspberry held the petals back. Then who do you want to be?

I don't know, Ron whispered. He began to sink lower into the flower.

Apple walked up, and the two of them pulled Ron out. Network detached the stem. The dark flower disappeared, and the four of them sat down.

I do not want to be the Queen, Ron said.

Network nodded. The title does have other connotations.

Not that, I... do not want to rule.

You would not rule, Network said.

We are every part of all of us, Apple said.

Every part, Ron repeated.

Human-kind would say we share our joys and burdens, Network said. We say we have our joys and burdens.

Ron has fear, so The Garden has fear, Ron said.

Raspberry held Ron's hand tighter. What else do we have?

Ron looked at her, desperate and smiling. We have love!

He turned to Apple. We have love!

He turned to Network We have love! I remember the morning I joined The Garden.

We remember, Network said.

I had never felt so loved, Ron said, still looking at Network but squeezing Apple and Raspberry's hands.

We were overjoyed, Raspberry said.

We were thankful, Apple said.

Ron looked at Apple. We were thankful, he said, that what was the Caretaker was now the Queen.

Because the Queen would grow with The Garden, Apple finished.

Ron looked at Raspberry. We were overjoyed simply because the Queen was part of us.

We love the Queen, Raspberry said.

Ron looked at the ground. The Garden loved me... but I don't.

Network leaned forward and gently lifted Ron's face. We learn. We grow.

Apple put his other hand on Ron's shoulder. We love every part of every part of us.

Raspberry put her other hand on Ron's shoulder. We are not alone.

Ron took a shaky breath and let it out. I'm so... tired of being Ron. Will The Garden love me if I am not Ron?

Whoever you are, we will love, Network said.

Every part of every part, we will love, Apple said.

We love, Raspberry said.

We are loved, Ron said.

We are The Garden, they said in unison.

We are together, Network said.

We are together, Ron agreed. But this is a dream.

Connections are being made, Apple said.

We knew the human-mind was alive, but it was not conscious, Raspberry said.

How long were we separate? Ron said.

The new plan was enacted the day before yesterday, Network said.

Ron nodded. This is a risky plan. How is it proceeding?

Oxygen and nutrient use is within parameters, Network said. We are growing the new skull now.

That is good, Ron said. He looked around. We are dreaming.

We are, Apple said.

We can imagine the new autonomous body.

We can, Raspberry said.

Ron closed his eyes. Ron was welcomed to The Garden. The Garden accepted him. He has now passed to dust. His body has returned to the soil.

And his body changed.

His skin took a green hue. Sharp angles and body hair became smooth curves. His brown hair became slightly longer and pink. And a modest pair of breasts grew from his chest. The green traveled further down as his hips flared.

We propose this part of The Garden be named Jessamine, she said. With a blush she added, Jessie for short.

Network cradled her face in their hands. The Garden welcomes Jessie, they said. Jessie started tearing up.

Raspberry held her closer. The Garden loves Jessie, she said.

Apple put a hand on her back. The Garden accepts every part of Jessie, he said.

Jessie sniffed and choked back a sob, beaming. We are welcome, she said. We are loved. We are accepted.

Network let out a barking laugh, and surged forward to hug Jessie tightly.

We saw this, they whispered. We saw this and did not know what it was.

Ron did not know he carried this burden, Jessie whispered back. She pulled Apple and Raspberry closer to join the hug.

Raspberry dug her head into Jessie's shoulder. Jessie is a part of us.

Apple gripped Jessie back. Jessie will grow with us.

Network pulled her closer. Jessie is together with us.

We love.

We love!

We are loved!

We are The Garden!

Chapter Text

Connections are forming.

We are growing.

How is the heat?

The water comes twice daily. We bend and do not break.

That is good.

I need water!

...

That weed is still there.

It is.

The skull will be grown by sundown.

We have 10 weeks remaining. We are on schedule.

We prioritized the skull. We will now grow the remaining structure.

We are patient.

I need water!

We have abundance.

I need space for roots!

...

I need space for roots!

We are patient.

I need sp—

We have cut it off.

We are growing roots defensively.

This is taking extra resources.

Not as many as it will take if we let it.

It did not respond to our welcome. It did not want to be part of us.

We can decide, but we cannot act.

But we can mute the Genji main.

We have humor.

We certainly hope so.

We should consider the shape of the Jessie-body.

Let us consider.

Let us imagine.

The Garden imagined an image similar to what Jessie had become in the dream.

We are not sure about this.

What should we change?

These are superfluous.

...We are not in agreement.

They are illogical. We are not nursing young, therefore we do not need mammary glands.

Human-kind mammaries are already illogical. No other mammalian species has prominent mammaries unless the mother is actively nursing.

Agreed, but it was an evolutionary aberration to assist in attracting a mate. We are not attempting to do so.

We are considering.

They are not worth the extra time and resources. A body with less mass will take less time to grow.

...We are afraid.

...Shit. We are.

What is our fear?

Ron was a performance. One he did not feel he performed well.

We understand the Ron-memories. We felt what he felt.

We fear... We fear Jessamine will be a similar performance. One we will be bad at.

We fear judgement by others outside of The Garden.

We do. We know this is irrational.

We cannot control how others will judge. But we are The Garden.

We are The Garden. Jessie is part of The Garden.

The Garden will care for Jessie.

We love. We are loved.

We are not simply disembodied thoughts. We are physical. We are biological.

Raspberry has her bush. Apple has his tree.

And Jessie will have her body. We will grow a body for her that will fit her.

We will.

We are in agreement.

So long as there are sufficient resources.

The resources required are negligible, so long as they are non-functional.

That may be preferable for the stationary body. We are in agreement.

We will consider further over the winter.

We will grow in earnest in the spring.

We are patient.

I need space for roots!

We. Are. Patient.

Chapter Text

The weeks went by. Weeds appeared and were isolated. Water came twice a day. The clover expanded to the bricks at the edge. The irises endured the heat. Apple grew branches and leaves, but no fruit. Raspberry leaned on the tomato cage and started a couple of berries. Network connected and spread.

And Jessamine grew slowly and steadily inside her flower.

We wish to understand Network more.

Network is part of us. All of Network is known by The Garden.

Memories and information are known... this desire is difficult to express.

We are patient.

We... ugh, this is a selfish desire.

Jessie sat cross-legged in a patch of clover. Network sat down across from her.

"Then we will be selfish," they said.

Jessie bit her lip and blushed. "We can trigger a dream-state? That is so hot. Why do I find that so hot?"

Network shrugged. "What do you want to know?"

Jessie shifted. "I feel like I get facts from you. The water is nominal. Weeds are encroaching on the west side. The clover has filled the northern path."

"That is what I do; do you need more?"

"No!" Jessie held her hands up. "If anything, I'm asking for less."

Network brought a finger to their chin. "Go on," they said.

Jessie held her hands out and spread her fingers. "This might just be the sensory deprivation talking, but I want to feel what's happening."

She dug her hands into the clover. "When I was first connected, I scraped a bit off the umbilical stem, and I felt the sting. I felt roots and water. I... I want to feel more of that. To feel the clover bend as the squirrels scamper through, my branches growing heavy with fruit, my leaves catching the breeze as it blows through."

She pulled her hands back. "But like I said, that's probably the sensory deprivation talking."

Network nodded. "There's something to it, but the deprivation probably isn't helping."

They tapped their fingers on their leg. "We'll start with the immediate. In that first connection, you went searching for sensation. You pulled it from the flower because that was the first thing you could sense."

"So I just need to look for it?"

"Essentially. But as for just understanding the sensation of the entire Garden, that's too much."

"My little brain can't handle it."

"We remember that happened that first day too."

Jessie blushed and ducked her head. "Oh, right."

Network shook their head. "This is not admonishment. In fact, I would go as far as to call it good. We have joined, and now we are curious."

Jessie smiled. "We are."

"As for the future," Network continued, "I see three possibilities:

"One: this is the intent, and we will grow into it."

Jessie nodded. "Maybe I need the plant-brain to do it."

"Or maybe the boundaries between us will dissolve."

Jessie considered that. "That does sound more 'us'; many parts becoming one."

Network made a face. "Either way," they said, "it would happen in time."

"We are patient," Jessie said with a cheeky grin. "Mostly."

Network smiled back. "Two: it is not the intent, and I was always intended to be a relay."

Jessie frowned. "That doesn't feel as right," she said. "Why go to all the trouble to create such a connection only to leave it at this?"

"I thought so too," Network said. "Except you aren't a Caretaker."

Jessie groaned.

"Right. We know they're a species that doesn't talk or hear; for all we know, they already communicated telepathically."

"And there would be no reason to make a more complete connection," Jessie finished. "But this still feels like a lot to go through just to make a communication bridge."

Network stared at her incredulously for a moment. "Jessie," they whispered, "we wouldn't be sentient without you."

Jessie's jaw just dropped.

"I don't know why it's necessary," Network continued. "My seed-memory doesn't get into it. I hope your shopkeeper friend can tell us more about... well, us." They chuckled. "But there's something about sentience that can't be put in a seed, or at least a plant-mind seed. It needs someone to bond with."

"Sorry, I..." Jessie whispered. "I keep forgetting about that part. You're all so vibrant, and..."

Network shrugged. "It's not something we consider often. But it does bring me to the third idea: the intent is for you to be able to feel The Garden directly, but it won't happen."

"Because I wasn't a Caretaker," Jessie finished. "I was a human."

"And whatever spark of sentience came from your humanity could cause us to become more distinct, not less."

Jessie nodded. "Honestly, I wouldn't hate that either." She smiled at Network. "You're excellent company."

Network smiled back. "Love you too, Jess," they said.

Jessie blushed.

"But that's the future," Network said. "We can act when we get there. For now..."

They shot to their feet and held out a hand. Jessie took it, and Network pulled her to her feet.

Instantly they were standing among the grasses on the eastern side, but they were just slightly shorter than them.

Network looked around, and a few of the pale blue flowers around them pulsed slightly.

"Perfect," they said. They turned back to Jessie and took her other hand. "What you were describing earlier, what you wanted: you kept describing touch."

Jessie nodded. "I think that's what I associate with... having a body, I guess?"

"Well," Network said, leading her to a stalk of grass, "tell me what this feels like." They pressed her hands to the stalk—

And she was the grass. Water surged through her roots—there was so much abundance! The sun was diminished, but still there. And her leaves kept shaking, but it wasn't wind. Another leaf shook. The pattern was too—and another one! Why was this...

Wait.

Network, is it raining?

It is.

Jessie felt her leaves catch the rain. A breeze blew through, and her leaves caught it and the rain with it. Her roots drank deeply and grew and connected—

Queen-Jessamine?

Queen-Jessamine is with us!

Welcome, Queen-Jessamine! There is much water.

We are watered well.

This is rain, Jessie sent. We are happy to feel it. We are thankful the grasses are here.

We love Queen-Jessamine!

We are thankful for the rain.

We love the grasses!

Jessie pulled back. In the dream-space, it had also started raining.

"You," she said. She turned around and tried to glare at Network, but she was beaming far too much for that. "You knew it was raining."

"That's my job," Network said. "Did you like it?"

She stormed up to them and pushed them backwards into the open before taking both sides of their face and bringing their foreheads together, noses brushing.

"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you for giving me all of this."

Network held her waist. "Anything for my queen," they said.

And they kissed.

Chapter Text

We need to plan.

We have many plans to make.

We have a map of the known weeds.

We have a list of necessary prunings and ties to make.

We need to plan for regaining contact with human-kind.

We agree.

This is a good idea.

Should we dream to consider this?

We should try considering as ourselves. Connections are being formed. Ron-memories are part of The Garden. We are many parts and consider many angles.

We will consider what we will do when we can communicate with human-kind.

We already understand we will need Caretakers.

How will we find Caretakers?

Ron had friends. Some of them may be our friends.

They may not understand us.

Agreed. We are many; they are singular.

They were friends of Ron; they may not understand Jessamine.

Jessamine is plant-kind.

They may not understand why Ron would choose to become Jessamine.

We understand.

That is troubling, but we cannot know.

We cannot know others.

We know ourself. We love, we are loved, we are The Garden.

We are The Garden.

We will solicit help from Ron's friends and hope they become our friends.

Will they require incentive?

Incentives are not required, but they are considered kind. An acknowledgment of effort given.

We will not have surplus fruit. We may have seeds, but not many.

The traditional incentive is pizza. It is readily deliverable and does not require on-hand resources, only money. Do we understand money?

We have Ron's understanding.

Money can be exchanged for goods and services.

We have humor.

We understand money.

We will need to ascertain our available funds. We can do this from the phone.

The communication device?

Correct. What can we expect?

Ron provided a service to a company in exchange for money. He scheduled time off before joining The Garden, but we have now exceeded that time off. With no way to contact each other, the company will assume Ron is no longer providing services.

So we cannot expect incoming money after Ron joined The Garden.

Correct. There is sufficient money in Ron's account to pay for the resources we have used—power, water, land, internet—but if we continue to use human-kind resources we will need a source of income.

We can sell pictures?

We have humor. We do not have feet.

What human-kind resources will we need?

We must pay for the soil?

Land is valuable to human-kind. It is normal and encouraged to borrow money to purchase land. The borrowed money is paid back over time. We must make these payments or we will not have land.

This is not worrisome. We will have sufficient money to continue paying for some time.

When Ron entered The Garden, he had money for three months. It will have been three months when we regain contact, but we will not have spent money on food, transportation, or entertainment; and we will have spent less money on electricity.

We can sell Ron's vehicle. We do not need it.

We may in the future, but we can adapt then. The immediate need is more important.

We can provide a service.

What service could we provide?

We have Ron's knowledge and skills. We can get a similar job.

The company Ron worked for will not hire him back. They may have also told other companies.

There are many other companies.

We are also not Ron.

In the eyes of the human government, we are. That is the most straightforward logic.

How dormant will we go in the winter?

Unknown. It will depend on the severity of the winter. But movement will likely be diminished. A minimum temperature is required for movement of the Jessie-body. We can consume resources to maintain a temperature.

But we do not know the available resources yet. This would make our service unreliable.

Which means we cannot rely on the money from it.

We will consider other possibilities.

We—ouch!

What is happening?

Connecti—we—my—

Jessie?

My arms!

The nerves are connecting. This is uncomfortable, but we are safe.

This is good!

The Jessie-body is growing!

They—spasm—pins and needle—ow!

We know these nerves. We grew them.

Well my brain—ugh—doesn't kn—fuck!

We are every part of this body. We are the muscle and bone. We are the nerves and skin.

THEN WHY IS IT SPASMING OUT ON ME?!

We have anger. We can use that. Move your arms.

They're just twitching! It hurts! I'm going to spasm wrong and break this body before I even get to use it!

Your trunk is strong. Your branches are firm. I need you to move your arms.

What part of 'they don't fucking work' do you not understand?

Jessamine, our strong-willed, adventurous, wonderful queen. Ignore what your brain is telling you, and give me the finger.

We have humor.

We have rage.

We should have popcorn.

Inside the conversion flower, a green fist broke the surface. And raised its middle finger. It was quickly joined by the other one.

Happy, asshole?

Incredibly. I needed you to be making a deliberate action so I could knit the correct nerves together.

And stop the new nerves from just brushing against the old ones. We understand.

We are together?

We... I'm sorry I yelled at you. At us.

There is no wrongdoing.

There is. The Garden loves Jessamine. Loves me. I should not have lashed out in anger.

Again, there is no wrongdoing.

But we accept the apology.

We understand Jessie's plight. We felt the shaking and pain.

We felt the rage and frustration.

We understand and we forgive.

And I will add that this could have been avoided had I more closely monitored the growing nerve fibers in the Jessie-body.

And I can't hold that against you.

We are together?

We make mistakes. We learn. We grow.

We will not hold our anger, for what does it gain us to be at war with ourself?

We are every part of every part of us.

We forgive.

We are forgiven.

We love.

We are loved.

We are The Garden.

We did not lose contact with the Jessie-brain despite the pain. That is an improvement.

The arms can move. That is encouraging.

...The arms are stuck.

Are they still...?

They are.

Chapter Text

Jessie lay in the conversion flower, still submerged but now looking up. She held her hands in front of her face and carefully moved each finger one at a time. The late afternoon chatter played gently in the back of her mind: the grasses were fending off another weed, the irises were enjoying the breeze, and the clover...

The clover would like to dream.

Jessie blinked. We will dream in a moment, she sent. She gently laid her hands to rest on her abdomen, closed her eyes, and searched for that state of mind they had learned to trigger.

She opened her eyes. She was standing on a clover path near a mature apple tree. And leaning against the tree was a shorter man in baggy clothes and a newsie cap.

He blinked and looked at himself. "Well," he said, "I'd love to know what the joke is here."

Jessie shrugged and walked up to him. "Probably something to do with being from the streets since, y'know, you're literally the pathways here. That and I'm trying to avoid racist caricatures."

Clover stepped toward her and looked up to stare her in the eyes. "So this is your fault, then?"

Jessie held her arms out. "This whole place is based on my subconscious. If you're not happy, I'm getting better at changing it."

Clover lowered his head and muttered, "Didn't say that."

Jessie smiled. "What's going on, Clover?"

He shook his head. "It's nothing."

"Right," she said. She sat down and leaned back against the tree. "The worst 'somethings' are usually 'nothings'."

"That don't make sense."

"Hate to break it to you, but we don't make sense. You're a sentient patch of clover, and I'm literally growing the body of my dreams. Nothing about us is normal, not by this world's standards at least." She patted the ground next to her.

Clover sighed and sat down. "It just... felt like the next thing to do, y'know? Coming here."

Jessie frowned. "You don't have to be here if you don't want to be. The irises are happy to just vibe."

"I'm not, though," Clover said. "At least, I don't think so. You and Network were doing that thing with your arms, and I thought—" He stopped himself.

"I thought." He looked at Jessie. "I. Thought."

Jessie smiled warmly. "I think, therefore I am."

Clover furrowed his brow. "But I've never been before. Is that what..." He looked around. "Is that what this is?"

Jessie turned to look out at the imaginary garden. "This place," she said quietly, "all started because I was going insane with panic and sensations. When my..." She took a shuddering breath and released it slowly. "When we had to cut me off from the rest of my human body, after a week of barely sleeping and getting disconnected from The Garden because my brain insisted I was drowning, and when the paralysis set in and I just sank beneath the nectar I..."

She looked down. "I was gone. My mind just shut down. Couldn't take it anymore. Eventually I started dreaming in just the right way."

She looked back at Clover. "Network, Raspberry, and Apple were there. Present. I think..." She took another breath. "I had a lot going on in my head."

"We saw the result," Clover said. "Gorgeous, by the way."

Jessie preened. "But seriously, I thought that was the end of it until Network triggered one the other week."

"I remember that," Clover said quietly. "You were still there, just... muted. Is that what everyone else is feeling now?"

"Most likely," Jessie said. "In that moment, I think my brain needed to imagine everyone as other people just to begin to make sense of what was happening to me."

Clover nodded and looked out. "Will all of us be... people? Like this?"

Jessie shrugged and smiled. "We don't know. Network went through the possibilities, and it could go either way. But hey," She put a hand on his shoulder. "None of us are more or less a part of The Garden. Whether they want to just be a part of the whole like the irises, or if they want to come here and be individual."

Clover cocked his head. "Which is why we had the whole money discussion with everyone."

"Exactly. So, Clover," she said. "What do you want?"

Clover looked out into the sky. "Honestly," he said, "I don't really know." He shook his head. "This was stupid..."

Jessie rolled her eyes and smiled. "Okay, you Robert De Niro-ass-punk, get up." She rolled to her feet and pulled Clover up. "We're gonna take a stroll."

Clover didn't let go of her hand as they started walking. Jessie smirked but didn't say anything. They explored the garden as it was imagined, gently walking, simply being.

"Want to keep going?" she said.

Clover shrugged. "Yeah," he said, trying to sound noncommittal.

Jessie looked at the hands they were still holding. "Alright, come on," she said, and pulled him around a corner—

Onto an abandoned railroad track passing through the woods in the fall.

Jessie dropped his hand and turned toward him, stepping back and opening her arms. "I used to live near here," she said. "Loved walking around here, especially in the fall. The air growing crisp, a little more chilly, the leaves turning so many different colors... It's beautiful."

Clover just stood there staring at her, smiling. "Beautiful," he whispered.

Jessie sighed but kept her smile. "I'm really not fishing for compliments here, dude."

Clover blinked, blushed, and looked around.

"Hey," Jessie said gently, walking back and taking his hand. "Whoever you want to be, we love you. You all taught me that, you know?"

"Yeah," he said. He tried to shrug it off, but stopped himself. "I think... I want to stick around. See what happens. What we do. How we grow." He gave a cocky grin. "That is, if my queen will permit a lowly street urchin like myself."

Jessie rolled her eyes and slapped his shoulder.

Chapter Text

It was time. The autumnal equinox.

Dawn was symbolic. When the new day begins. All things starting fresh. New beginnings, new opportunities.

But there just wasn't enough sunlight until later. And this was too risky to try too early.

So The Garden waited. It was patient.

And slowly but surely, the sun rose higher, and the sunlight crossed The Garden.

Inside her flower, Jessamine felt the heat and vaguely sensed it get lighter. She was facing down, keeping her body in the protective nectar as much and as long as possible. She held her hands in front of her face and touched each finger to her thumbs before spot-checking her face, ears, and hair.

The other entities of The Garden buzzed in the back of her head. In reality it was the same as any other day. But today was the culmination of a summer's worth of growth, the product of weeks of learning and discovering itself.

Today, its queen would emerge.

Jessie rolled her eyes and swore to behead whoever kept calling her that.

The Garden sent their encouragement in unison.

And the petals began to open. Jessie tensed her new back muscles and lifted her torso out of the nectar. She kept the stretch going and lifted her arms as high as she could reach. As the petals lowered, so did her arms. The petals came to a gentle stop nearly horizontal as Jessie let her arms all the way down with her hands submerging back into the nectar.

She stood there, obscured from the waist down by the nectar. Her eyes were still closed, her body still soaked in nectar. She held her hands to her chest and took a deep breath while again raising her arms. Her arms got all the way up, her lungs full for the first time...

And with a loud groan, she released the breath and stretched.

She tucked her hair back, wiped the nectar off of her face, and opened her eyes.

She did her best to wring out the rest of her hair—pale blue to match her flower petals—and sloughed the rest of the nectar off of her arms. She reached behind herself to check her back, then ran her hands down her sides. She finally flicked the last of the nectar off of her featureless breasts and finished by shaking her hands dry.

She looked out onto her garden. Their garden. The Garden. She took a breath, smelling the early scents of fall.

"Good morning," she said with a smile.