Chapter Text
North Star stumbled through the door to the Steamworks.
His hand was pressed to his face. It left little room for breathing, but it still pushed back the horrible pain that pierced through his skull.
As for how he got into the facility, well, what kind of Sheriff would he be if he didn't watch everything? He'd seen and memorized the code Ceroba used. It was the only reason they were able to save Clover that day.
The door slammed shut behind him, and North Star barely kept himself from hitting the ground. His legs shook. His hands hurt. His face-
Something was digging through his face. He tried his best to push it back, even with unsteady hands. Careful. Breathe in, breathe out— His mouth opened and the air flowed through it, no matter how badly he wanted to choke.
It was agony. The dimmer light of the Steamworks helped, though. Only a little. North Star breathed in and out again, as deeply as he could through the thing stabbing at his head. He didn't know what it was, all he knew was that it had shown up yesterday and never went away. He could no longer convince himself it was a normal headache. What kind of headache centered itself in the middle of your face, instead of in between your eyes or something?
Nap time hadn't helped. Not like it normally did. He'd had to be woken up, after whatever it was had him whining and crying in his sleep.
North Star never whined, and he certainly never cried. He was the toughest sheriff around! Except… it was getting harder and harder to feel like it.
This hadn't started like a wound. This had started small, dismissable. It wasn't like someone had stabbed him… until it got worse. It had gotten so much worse.
"Kill me now, dammit," he muttered in broken words to no one. He'd meant to tell it to go away, first, but the words had slipped past his mind into some forgotten memory. The intention was already fading.
This was weird. The longer it lasted, the less he felt like himself. The more it grew… and he could feel it growing. Every inch, every speck it took of his head, he could feel it.
It.
Hurt.
His feet took him, stuttering, around the too-bright generator and past a doorway to who-knows-where. The walls were too cold, but… no matter how he tried, he couldn't seem to stop himself from bumping into them. No matter how he recoiled, no matter how he course-corrected. His legs didn't feel like they belonged to him anymore.
They must have, though. They must have. They got him here. They were still the long-john legs of North Star, the North Star of the Wild East, their guiding light. He could be his own guiding light now. Somewhere his head wouldn't hurt, his hands wouldn't shake, his feet wouldn't lead him astray.
He just had to get there.
Even if the sound of cold, hard steel exploded his brain before he did.
The bridges would've been a problem, if he'd been aware enough to register the fear of falling. For all he could see, he couldn't think clearly enough to even topple over the railings. All that came through was a sense of longing, and a couple faces.
Clover. His deputy had been worried. But he'd come home, no worse for wear, and alleviate those fears.
Ceroba. Angel, he wanted Ceroba here with him. He knew she'd make it better, or at least give him some comfort over none.
And then… a blur. He could've sworn it was a group of people at some point, the last time he thought of them. Now, he couldn't even tell what color they were. Pink, or blue? Mossy, or dusty…? Where did one even begin?
Feathers. He knew her name. It… wasn't coming to him, though. The silly little moniker he'd given her became the only reason he could remember her appearance. She was blue, covered in feathers. Her face… wasn't full of holes, he knew that much. But he couldn't remember what exactly it looked like. What did she look like?
The thought escaped him soon after. He couldn't keep it in his head any longer, and so he let it go. The thing growing through his face pushed harder. He had to push back.
When had his hands gotten so weak?
… Where was he?
For the first time in possibly hours, he looked through his fingers, properly looked, and his feet stumbled to a stop.
The bright pink stuff around him was lava. His breath shuttered with fear at the thought, even though the temperature in this room wasn't any hotter than his father got to cook.
His father. His mother. His face twisted with the urge to sob. He wanted to go home.
He couldn't… remember the way, though.
Something loud and sharp struck his ears suddenly. A robot, blathering on with glitchy words and too-high volume, oblivious to the way he'd doubled over, pressing his rays back against his head. He stumbled left, then right, in a bid to both keep himself standing and stay away from the lava. His eyes squeezed shut, and his teeth grinded against each other, and the thing in his head wouldn't stop-
North Star gasped for breath. It was too hot in here. Too bright. Too-
This wasn't where he needed to be.
His hands dropped to his sides, too heavy to hold up anymore. Despite the wobbliness in his legs, and the fact that he couldn't keep himself upright, North Star stepped onto the robot and sat down as carefully as he could. He didn't want to capsize it.
It spoke again, louder now and more horrible. He could feel it talking. He thought it might be asking if he was okay.
"'m fine," he slurred out. "summere- Somewhere darker'n this, please…"
As the robot started to move, thankfully finding its own path through all this, North Star brought his knees to his face and dug them hard into his eyes, begging the pain to go away. Breathing wasn't working in this room. The only semblance of comfort came from his poncho, which made the heat worse but gave him a distraction. Something to focus on. Some nice memories, with a nice texture to go with them.
It was soft. It was wonderful.
He had… made this. He got help with it, but from who…? He'd made it all on his own. He'd made it. He had…
He had made it to the other side of the lake. The robot was waiting for him to disembark.
North Star reluctantly got to his feet and stepped onto solid ground. It certainly didn't feel like it though— before he knew what was happening, his hands and knees hit the steel, his vision blurring. He panted through the lump in his throat, through whatever was crawling up his tongue, and why did it feel so similar to the thing burrowing through his head-?
Have to get up, whispered his own voice in his brain. It sounded foreign to him. He got up anyway, no matter the struggle, and pressed his hand to his face again. Keep pushing back on it. Don't let it through.
His own thoughts were getting fainter. He chalked it up to not being able to hear himself through the pain, through the parasite, through the drilling in his skull-
He wasn't where he needed to be yet.
So he trudged onwards, out of the heat and back into the dark, and found that breathing wasn't any easier here.
He toughed it out. Through the Steamworks, through the haze, even as his vision didn't clear and the middle of his face felt like it was starting to tear open. Run through them again, that little whisper told him. Right…
Clover. His… deputy. They would be worried about him. He should go home. He'd rather die there than here.
Cer…oba? She was so soft. The perfect texture for hugs. He wanted her here with him. Although, he was sure her face wasn't empty…
Them… The blur of colors that he was almost certain was more than one person. How long had it been since he'd seen them? It had to have been a while, right? A few hours was a while, right?
… her…? She was… blue, right? Not gray? And not melting, either. He couldn't picture what she might have looked like, though.
He was too tired for this. He was too tired to agonize over the fact that he couldn't see their faces. He was too tired.
North Star tripped over debris, crunched glass under his boots, and nearly walked right off the edge of more than one path, but eventually he made it through a door and-
collapsed to his knees.
The sight of the endless white flora filled him with so much dread. He just didn't know why. His hands fell and brushed it for just a second, but he recoiled as if he'd been shot. This- This wasn't—
This was where he was meant to be.
Starlo lurched forward- His own voice was strangled- His hands wouldn't obey him- His face, his face-
His hat was overturned on the floor.
He screamed.
The thing inside him broke out. His head split open. He wasn't sure what was blood or bone among all the plants. The flesh on his face rippled, his rays were shoved back, his jaw popped and he wasn't sure if it was the vines or the screaming that did it-
Oh. Vines. That was why- Why his head, why his- It hadn't stopped- why it grew in him- he was-
It hurt- It hurt- IT HURTS-
The broken cries shattered the silence, only slightly less than the cracking. Starlo writhed, unable to keep it down anymore, and unable to handle the pain any longer. Now he was glad he hadn't stayed home- wouldn't want anyone to see the horrors being committed here- wouldn't want his friends, or his deputy-
His- deputy- he-
He left his deputy- There hadn't been a note, or- Or anything- At least, he didn't— think there was-?
His breathing was shallow between the noise. Where was it coming from? Focus on the deputy. Anything but this.
His eyes hurt, his vision blurred, there wasn't enough air getting into his lungs, but he fixed his thoughts elsewhere despite everything.
The deputy… what was their name again? Fuck, why couldn't he remember their name?
His friend… she was a friend, right? Then, why did he dread the thought of her finding him like this?
Them. Who were they? What were they? It… was a they, wasn't it…?
It. The thing with the eye. Splitting its melting face open like his own.
Starlo rolled onto his back, opened his mouth, and wheezed. The screaming had stopped- had it ever started? He couldn't see. His head hurt. His throat hurt. For the first time, he felt the vines squirming from his jaw, lashing among the rest of them caving his head open. He wasn't sure where they ended and he began.
His fingers twitched. He realized he could still feel his poncho, and gripped it with all the strength he had left— which wasn't a lot, now that he realized. Everything burned. The vines had burrowed past his face, up his rays, down his neck, in his chest- in- in his chest-?
The shrieking came back tenfold as another cluster burst out from beneath his hand. Thorns pierced through the fabric, and maybe that was the final nail in the coffin— the thing he made with his own fading hands. Shrieks turned into gasps, and tears spilled down what remained of his cheeks, getting stuck in the folds between the vines shoving their way through the orifice they'd created. It was sickening, the way they squirmed toward his tears. He was going to throw up. He was-
Leak…ing?
It was just blood. It had to just be blood, but- The stuff dribbling down the vines was black, not gray- He could feel it- Welling up and squirting between the plants filling the gaps in the hole in his head-
He couldn't breathe, but words still tried their hardest to scrape by the remnants of his mouth.
"R… Ro… ba…" Who was he calling for? There was no one here. No one would come looking.
The monster laid there in the grass, pain turned to tingling turned to nothing at all, as his displaced eyes found themselves consumed by the plant life.
A pair of glasses lay cracked beneath him.
Chapter 2
Summary:
HAHA, THE APRIL FOOL'S NOTE AT THE BEGINNING WAS ABOUT THE CHAPTER COUNT >:) I HAVE 25+ PAGES OF THIS WRITTEN IN MY NOTEBOOK AND MORE TO COME. CHAPTERS 3 AND 4 ARE ALREADY FINISHED. PREPARE YOURSELVES
(also i'm not doing any guardener or axis glitches during their dialogue. you can imagine those ^-^ friendlier to screen readers and friendlier to me. it's 11 p.m)
Chapter Text
He'd realized he could stop breathing very late.
The only sound, besides the slither and crack of vines, was that— rattled breathing, heavy despite the stationary lifestyle of its host. He'd gotten sick of it, and when he realized he didn't know why he was still doing it, he stopped.
Turns out, the long-stale fear was unwarranted. He didn't need to breathe at all.
It could've been days, could've been weeks, could've been hours after he realized that and left himself with nothing but sweet silence and his own growth slithering through his body, that his hands twitched.
His hands. Twitched. That meant he could move them. After so long doing nothing but waiting, but feeling, he couldn't remember anything else. But he knew he was made to move.
So his hands moved. Of his own volition, they slid across his clothing, across the grass, dragging fingers behind that wouldn't move yet. It was a yet now, and that excited him. He'd never been excited. What part of the pain had made him able to move? What had grown beneath his hands and wrists to let him feel?
He didn't know. He didn't have to know. All he had to do was move.
With a dozen tries and creaking bones, the monster got himself upright, and who knew a different view of the same room would so nauseatingly beautiful?
And then. His legs twitched.
His legs! If they could move, he could walk! If he could walk, then-! Then nothing would be out of reach!
It hurt, when he tried. Supporting his own weight was a forgotten endeavor, but he still tried. He still did it.
He was hunched over and groaning when it happened, but the simple fact that it had happened filled him with determination.
His own voice was foreign. But, he hadn't ever heard it, so surely the uneasiness was normal?
The monster took a step, then another, when the first hadn't toppled him. Then another, then three more, and suddenly he was out of the room.
His head hurt.
He went back inside.
Or, at least, he would have, if the sight of the grass he was just touching didn't fill him with fear. Which didn't make sense. It didn't hurt him.
It was where he wasn't meant to be.
He realized he couldn't see anymore. That was… okay. He could work with this. His vines did what they wanted, and he'd felt them slither over his never-closed eyes a million times before. The sensation didn't even faze him.
… Much.
Still, though… they'd never done it while he was walking. Mostly because he'd never walked a day in his life. And his limbs still felt heavy and long, but hell if he'd let any of this stop him! He was moving, and he wouldn't stop for anything!
Yeah! Just bury the fear, and everything would be fine!
His feet moved him forward again, and he didn't even need the wall. Even when he tripped and fell hard into… something, he still got up and made a point of spreading out what vines he could move to find where was safe to step next.
There were so many things he'd never felt.
The path he followed led to more of the same, although he did find a few lumps of cold steel. At one point, he touched paper. Free-standing plants were crushed beneath his boots until something rattled beneath them, and tossed him upwards. The monster landed painfully on his back. He heard whirring, and pounding on the steel ground, and reached for something at his hip, but-
It… wasn't there.
No, scratch that, it was there - whatever it was - just… stuck? He felt nothing but plants, even though plants couldn't be that heavy. It was there. He couldn't reach it.
Not that it would've done much good, anyway. He had a feeling he needed fingers to use it, and his didn't work.
"OH," said a voice. A voice. In this silent place? "YOU ARE… AN UNUSUAL MONSTER." He was? Well, he hadn't seen himself, or anyone but himself… "YOU LET THE FLORA GROW IN YOU. THAT IS… NOT SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN."
That was wrong. He didn't know how he knew it, but he did. He hadn't let it in. It forced his hand.
His unusable hands.
The monster didn't realize he was making a noise until whatever it was he'd encountered tried to pat him on the head. "THERE, THERE. YOUR OFFENSE LEVEL IS NOT HIGH ENOUGH. SO I DO NOT MEAN TO ANTAGONIZE YOU." Something was… wrong, with its voice. Eh, there was something wrong with his too. Just in a different way.
… maybe not all that different. Sounds didn't come out right for either of them.
"HOW DO I REFER TO YOU? YOU ARE NOT IN OUR DATABASE." His noise quieted. Was it asking for his name? "FOR EXAMPLE, I AM GUARDENER, MODEL 02." Ooh… it was. There was a problem with that.
The monster did not answer, because he couldn't. He couldn't say it wasn't there, or that he didn't have one; the latter was untrue, and his voice simply wouldn't cooperate with the former, Or anything, really.
His hand went up to fiddle with the thing on his chest- the thing on his chest?
He looked down. Through the slightest gaps in his vines, there was something golden, fixed to his chest. SHERIFF, it said, emanating the barest bones of heat. Flower stems grew over its five points, affixing it permanently to him.
"SHERIFF, THEN?" Asked the twitching voice. It didn't sound right… but it didn't sound wrong, either.
He nodded.
The weight on his back wasn't a noticeable one. At least, it hadn't been, until it began catching on things.
The first time, it had been such an unprecedented amount of painful that he'd frozen where he stood, upset rattling spiking to a new high. He finally looked back at what it was, what dragged behind him whenever he moved, and found a twitching, vine-wrapped limb, long and lithe. The vines around it weren't tight, but they were tied into knots that he knew would be a pain to unravel, only for them to come right back.
His vines always just came right back.
So he ignored it, until the second time it happened. Maybe it was more painful this time because he was aware of the tail and how it moved without his input, showing off in whatever tiny way it could. He had the very strange feeling that it should have moved more, like the rest of him. But by the time the pain had faded from the second time yanking it, the vines were tighter, holding it in a cramped position that shortened its length but felt uncomfortable.
He ignored it, again. He couldn't control his vines very well yet, but he was learning. Some day, he'd learn to control the tail, too.
Trapping it in a door had been the catalyst. He'd closed it too fast, and the damned thing slammed down beneath the starburst shape on the end. The scream hurt his own ears, but he spun around to tug the tail free, fumbling with the door handle at the same time. When he managed to get it free, a good chunk of the end was flat and broken. Possibly the only reason he hadn't been trapped for longer was because he was melting.
He decided to put that fact away for now. Melting… happened. It just happened. But the tail wasn't fixing itself. Instead, his vines, which had already been flailing wildly with the sudden agitation, lashed around it and pulled it in. The monster collapsed.
When he was aware enough not to soak the ground beneath him, he looked back at the tail and found nothing but a crooked, broken, bent thing, painfully held together with stiff plants.
It didn't take long to lose feeling in it.
"oh hey ur the guy who was lying at the entrance for days," said a quiet, whirring thing.
He looked down to it. This was one of few times when his eyes were only half-obstructed, so he could sort of see it.
His time with Guardener wasn't long yet, but he'd still met a lot of the little robots. This might've been one he hadn't yet seen. They didn't all stay in his memory very well, though… Guardener herself didn't, sometimes.
Regardless, he crouched down, expertly ignoring the pain in his legs like usual, and scraped out as much of a greeting as he could. The helper-bot moved back a smidge.
"o jeez thats- yk ur probly fine, actually, uh," it fidgeted with its little hands. "k so i kinda mb took smth from you when it looked like you werent gonna wake up. so uh. here you go." And it handed him a pristine brown hat.
A hat.
His hat.
His hat that he had lost, never realizing it was gone.
He took it, and knew instinctively - the material, the stitches, whatever it was that made the overgrown tears in his gloves prickle with excitement - that he had made this. That he had put together each swatch of fabric and segment of thread. That his hands, back when he couldn't remember, back when they had worked, put everything into this. His hopes and dreams were in this hat.
He put it on and tipped it gratefully, and felt a little more like himself.
Guardener watched him scream as his vines pierced through it later.
She grew a bed of flowers and watched the vines writhe across it, tearing them up as he tried to find anything but pain.
She watched one of those flowers snap his brittle rice stalk in half and take its place in the brim of his hat, and wished her arms were a little softer so she didn't hurt him when she tried to comfort him.
She watched a man break that day.
Long after, in a story soon to be told, glass crunched beneath a boot in a place where glass should not have been.
Orange eyes looked down, orange paws brushed the grass. A bent frame was picked up, and crimson light reflected in the pair of shattered lenses.
The tears would not fall. Not yet.
The glasses weren't dusty.
Chapter 3
Summary:
3000+ words all transcribed in two hours after midnight <3 My shoulders hurt <3
Chapter Text
The door to the Steamworks had been opened.
It opened despite the vines overtaking the whole property. It opened despite no one having any reason to enter. It opened,
And stale fear tasted fresh again.
"WHAT? THE ENTRANCE? TO THE GREENHOUSE, OR TO THE STEAMWORKS?"
"… I SEE. I WILL ALERT AXIS."
"TALL LADY."
Ceroba immediately slammed her staff down. It narrowly missed the robot behind her.
"Axis!?"
He stared, unimpressed, at her.
"THANKS FOR DENTING MY FLOORS." She winced. "YOU MAY BE AUTHORIZED, BUT THIS IS STILL PROPERTY DAMAGE."
"Right… sorry," Ceroba mumbled as she desummoned her staff. "I'm just here looking for someone."
"ey sheriff buddy whats w all the sleeping youve been doing lately?"
He gave the little helper-bot an annoyed look. Which was something he could do, now that he had more of a handle on his vines.
"man ik you cant speak but you can try. you said smth to miss guardener earlier."
The monster huffed. That had been an emergency. Even so, he tried shaping a few plants into what he thought might make legible words. Speaking needed breathing as well, though, so…
"ok well wtv. axis sent a message. the lady who came in is authorized, somehow."
He lost concentration. The only sound that came from his throat was a screech that hurt his own ears.
"ik rite? like howd that happen? n e way miss said you should stay here n she'll keep passing on location data from axis."
"… hey whats that look ur giving me."
It wasn't a minute of eye contact later that he got bored and stood up. Dry plant life broke away from his legs with multiple cracking noises, but considering that was how he sounded every time he moved, neither of them flinched.
"cmon man you cant keep disobeying miss guardener like this you have so many incident reports-" He rolled his one visible eye. "yeah theyre low level but… dude. she cant play favorites 4ever."
He put a hand to his chin and crooned.
"wtv you know what i meant. its youngest child syndrome or smth." He pushed the helper's head down. "taller doesnt mean older, idiot."
With another eyeroll and a dozen more long strides, the two made it to Guardener's room. The monster called out wordlessly, and let his voice descend back into the idle, displeased noise that hadn't let up since the front door opened.
"miss!" The helper-bot shouted in turn. "miss i told him what you said n he didnt listen! put 'im in the slammer!"
The monster crossed his arms.
"So, where are we going?"
"…"
"Axis."
"…"
"Axis."
"STOP."
"It's a simple question!"
"YOU WILL SEE SOON. FOR NOW, STOP [ticking] ME OFF."
Ceroba huffed and crossed her arms. "Well, I'm sorry that I don't have infinite patience."
"YOU HAD IT WITH CLOVER."
"Clover was competent!"
Axis grumbled incomprehensibly, wheeling slightly faster. The woman sped up her own pace, easily keeping up.
Or, she would have, if she didn't trip over a vine in her path.
She looked back. That… hadn't been there a second ago. Axis would've had to avoid it. But he hadn't swerved, or jumped, or done anything to imply avoiding it was even necessary.
Ceroba stood up straight and continued. Her ears twitched downwards, but she wouldn't let Axis see how much the overgrown eeriness of the facility disturbed her.
She'd been here less than three months ago with Clover. There was no way all this was natural.
"… So where are we going?"
"OH, FOR- TO GUARDENER, WE ARE GOING TO GUARDENER."
"There, that wasn't so hard, was it?"
"[screw] OFF."
"THEY ARE COMING CLOSER."
The monster rumbled, instantly tense.
"GO BACK TO YOUR ROOM, SHERIFF."
"!?"
"THE WOMAN AXIS IS BRINGING IS AUTHORIZED." Guardener leaned down to meet his covered eyes. "IF I REQUIRE HELP, I WILL CALL FOR IT. BUT IF I AM SHUT DOWN, FOR WHATEVER REASON, THE GARDEN FALLS TO YOU." She hesitated a moment. The monster knew to give her time to string together the proper words. "YOUR MAGIC IS PERFECT FOR IT. SHOULD I BE UNABLE, I KNOW IT WILL FLOURISH WITH YOU."
And then she lifted her hand, and rained lukewarm water down on him like a watering can. He screeched and batted it away, to very little avail.
"YOU KNOW YOUR VINES GET DRY TOO QUICKLY," she told him, and he swore there was a note of laughter in it. "NOW GO TO YOUR ROOM."
He huffed, fixed his hat, and tore his feet up from where they had rooted to obey her. The wording she used was too familiar not to.
It made him sad. He didn't know why, though.
It wasn't long after he shut the door - not all the way, of course - that he heard the clanging of cold, hard steel. The noise got steadily louder with his own. He tried his best to quiet himself… it didn't work. It never worked. Normally, it was a tell for the robots to know his state. Now, he was worried about their 'visitor' hearing him.
He stayed by the door. Like he could have moved— the moment he leaned on the wall, his roots took hold again, deeper, stronger. They consumed what was left of his boots. But he didn't have time to let that upset him.
"HELLO, AXIS," Guardener said, faintly from here. "HELLO, TALL LADY."
An unfamiliar voice sighed. "Are all of you going to call me that?"
"IT IS WHAT I HAVE REGISTERED YOU AS," Axis replied.
"I have a name." The monster didn't hear it. He was too busy keeping his SOUL from jumping at every word the visitor spoke.
He knew her from somewhere. But how? When? He'd never been anywhere but the Greenhouse, and she wasn't a robot.
His breath hitched. When had he started breathing again?
Ceroba's ear twitched. She turned.
What… was that? It sounded like… breathing? But the whole place was full of robots. And there was something else. Static? Growling? She couldn't tell, but it was constant from the moment she entered the Greenhouse, and had only gotten louder with her approach.
Something about it had her chest going tight.
She turned her attention back to Guardener. With all the open doors in the hall, she couldn't tell where exactly it was coming from. But she would keep listening.
"Guardener, while it is nice to see you again, I have a question." The goliath leaned forward as Ceroba took the missing poster from her pocket. "Have you seen him?"
Waiting for the cameras to stop whirring was agonizing.
The poster was simple, Western-style, with two pictures and two names. The first was North Star, shooting a peace sign and winking at the camera, even tilting his hat in true dramatic fashion to show off his winning smile. The second was Starlo, no hat, glasses just barely big enough for his sweet blue eyes. He was smiling in this one, too, smaller now and slightly nervous, waving at the camera with one hand and carrying a basket in the other.
When Guardener leaned back, Ceroba turned it back around to look at, even though the pictures were driven into her brain beyond simple memory. This was the only look she'd gotten at her friend since he disappeared.
"I…" Guardener stopped. Axis had done the same, but she couldn't stop herself from looking up, desperate and pleading. Her eyes right now could rival any puppy expression she'd ever given. "I… THINK… I HAVE?"
Ceroba gasped. "Really!?" Guardener shook her head like she was trying to clear her thoughts.
"I… AM NOT SURE. BUT, THE NORTH STAR CLOTHING IS… FAMILIAR."
"I THOUGHT THE SAME," Axis chimed in. "I KNOW NORTH STAR ENTERED THE STEAMWORKS, THOUGH HE SEEMED UNWELL."
"Unwell?" She whispered. Her ears and tail dropped.
"HE HAD A HEADACHE," he clarified. "AND SEEMED GENERALLY UNAWARE OF HIS SURROUNDINGS. I SWEAR I SAW HIM COME IN HERE."
She grit her teeth. It was more than she had 15 minutes ago, she had to remind herself of that. "And… did he ever leave?"
Both robots were silent. They looked at each other. Ceroba forced her impatience down. Finally, Guardener spoke up, just as Ceroba's ears were itching from the odd, unstable breathing behind the walls.
"I HAVE… NOT SEEN HIM. THE LAST VISITOR WAS SHERIFF." The fox felt a cold spear go through her chest.
"HE IS MORE OF A RESIDENT." She didn't process Axis's words for a second.
"WHEN HE CAME HERE, HE WAS A VISITOR." The breathing wasn't hers. Hers had stopped. "HE NEVER LEFT. NOW HE KNOWS ENOUGH TO BE A LITTLE MORE."
"ADMIT YOU SEE HIM AS A TRAINEE, [screw] IT."
"Can I-" Ceroba's voice cracked. She exhaled, inhaled, and tried again. "Can I speak to him-?"
"HE WILL NOT SPEAK BACK."
"AXIS." Guardener lightly smacked him with a flower. "HE IS LEARNING." The guard-bot didn't protest any longer, or at least not audibly. She looked at Ceroba again. "I TOLD HIM I WOULD CALL IF BACKUP WAS NEEDED. WE WILL GO TO HIM, ON THE CONDITION THAT NO HARM BE DONE TO EITHER OF US."
For some reason, her breath stopped again. An undeniable dread had rooted in her SOUL; she was afraid. Afraid of what she might see when they went to this "Sheriff." That name, all the little things adding up, his disappearance a month ago-
Something was cracking.
Her head whipped to one of the doors. Behind Guardener, something was breaking apart, and heavy footsteps were retreating. Her hand twitched, itching to summon her staff just as a safeguard, but she didn't want another 'Level 10' incident, and what if that was "Sheriff?" What if that was-
"ARE THE CONDITIONS ACCEPTABLE?" She glanced back at the mechanical behemoth, and just barely managed a nod. She had to say yes. This was her only lead. "GOOD. COME WITH ME. AXIS, YOU MAY COME AS WELL, IF YOU WISH."
"NO. I MUST GET BACK TO MY SPOUSE." He started rolling away.
"AH. TELL DAISY I SAY HELLO."
"I WILL." Ceroba watched him pause to pluck a flower, then followed the gardener off the path, to the exact door she'd been looking at. She had to keep breathing. She had to know if it was him.
The room was dark, barely lit by the hallway outside and a screen on the far wall. What she could see was torn-up roots scattered across the entire floor among the white grass. Maybe it was just lighting, but the roots looked darker than the rest… greener, covered in thorns. She knew just from a glance that those didn't grow in the Dunes. So, maybe…
"I SENT HIM A MESSAGE." She jumped at the voice. Guardener was looking at the screen. "HE SHOULD BE HERE." Now that she mentioned it, Ceroba couldn't hear the breathing anymore. That drawn-out snarling persisted, though. Or was it hissing? "SHERIFF?" Guardener called. "HELP IS NOT NEEDED FOR ME, BUT THE AUTHORIZED WOMAN IS LOOKING FOR SOMEONE. SHE WOULD LIKE TO QUESTION YOU."
The hissing noticeably quieted as Guardener addressed "Sheriff." Clutching the missing poster and taking another look at her old friend, Ceroba stepped forward.
"Hello-?" And the sound
shifted.
She had barely turned when the vine came for her head, but it was pure instinct that allowed her to parry it quick enough. Her staff flared with scarlet light. Guardener had reeled back, stunned, so it wasn't her that had just-
A wave of flames engulfed the attack that was coming for her. The missing poster went back into her pocket, and Ceroba snarled back at whatever this was that thought it could attack her, kill her, without consequence.
Guardener slammed one massive hand down. "SHERIFF! STOP THIS IMME-" She didn't finish her sentence before her guest was on the ground, unholy shrieking having shaken Ceroba enough to dull her reaction time. Vines grew and lashed in an instant, thorns piercing through fur and gloves pinning her down by the neck.
Gloves? How did she know those were-?
Ceroba looked up at her assailant. Their face was nothing but a wailing mass of vines, no eyes, no mouths, but the material falling over her made her hesitate. Were it not for that, it would be a pile of ash— the staff pushing it back would have incinerated it in an instant.
She shouted back at it. "GET OFF OF ME!!" There was no way she could pull an escape like this- There was so much happening- This wasn't even a proper battle, she had no turn-
"SHERIFF."
Suddenly, her enemy was gone, and Ceroba could breathe again. She scrambled to her feet, readying another bout of flames, and… realized the vines were frozen.
They were stuck in midair, twitching like they were being held back. Her enemy was all tied up in pale plants, still screaming with no mouth to do so, branches cracking into unnatural shapes.
"STAND DOWN. THIS WOMAN HAS NO STANDING OFFENSES." Somehow, without tone, Guardener was more commanding than even the King of Monsters himself. The monster made of plants stilled, staring Ceroba down with no eyes and heaving for breath.
The hissing… this was where the hissing came from. Had they known she was there this whole time?
The vines around her slithered back into the ground.
Her chest still pounded, but her eyes had adjusted to the low light, and her breath stuttered.
The hat, worn and handmade, with the stalk of a flower in the brim. The gloves, stretched and melting but made of something she could never forget. The rays - his rays - withered and wilting and overgrown with those stiff branches. And, as the plants unwound and let him go-
Ceroba couldn't blink. If she blinked, the tears would fall.
His poncho. Torn up and full of holes, barely concealing the vines that wriggled across the rest of him. That zig-zag pattern that he'd labored for days over. The little rectangles at the bottom that she'd helped him cut out. The badge, stuck to his chest with dead and dying flowers, a tiny, perfectly round swelterstone on each of the five points.
Sheriff.
"Starlo…?"
He didn't know who she was, he just needed her to stop HURTING HIM.
The constant thorns in his chest- The longing, the familiarity- The tone she used- It all HURT and he WANTED IT TO STOP.
He couldn't see her. He wouldn't see her. If just the heat of her magic was enough to make his skin melt through his vines, looking at her would be so much worse. So he forced his eyes to stay covered. Any further tantrums could damage the garden.
"Starlo…?"
Every movement stopped.
His breathing. His noise. His vines. All of it went very suddenly silent.
What
was
that
word?
The visitor's breathing was heavy and wet. She was about to cry. How did he know that? He didn't want her to cry. He wanted her gone.
"STARLO?" Guardener repeated, and the sound filled his head his chest his SOUL so much it was painful. "BUT HE IS NOT… OH." He heard her move away from him. "OH," she said again, quieter.
The visitor took a shuddering breath in. The monster copied her, smoother, if raspier. She followed his lead when he breathed out. What was he doing?
"Star," she whispered. "Oh, Angel- What happened to you…?" What happened? What did she mean? He stood up straighter, purposefully shifting his vines. She gasped, and then
ran
away.
The monster chose to continue breathing. He turned towards Guardener, hoping for answers as some terrible retching sound came from outside the room. The gleam of her eyes cut through the outlines of his vines, staring back at him.
"I TOLD YOU WHEN YOU ARRIVED HERE. YOUR APPEARANCE IS UNUSUAL."
That didn't explain everything, though.
He tested his feet, and stepped past her, back towards the door. One hand rested on the door frame like he wouldn't dare cross it yet. His feet didn't root here— he made sure of it, though they had before.
The visitor was gasping and sobbing just next to the door, and though he didn't want to out of fear that the feelings might just eat him from the inside out, he shifted his vines away from his eyes.
She was tall, even hunched over. He'd been taller as an adult, not counting her ears. Her fur was bright, fiery orange. When it shed, they used to joke that she'd had a child. Her clothes were unstained white, and lined with red that he just knew would be the softest thing ever if he touched it. She got so mad when he stained it. He told her not to wear white so much, then. And when her ears shot upright and she turned to face him with a tear-stained snout-
He knew her. He knew her. He knew her name.
"ssse…" Her eyes widened. He kept his own fixed on them, knowing, praying, that if he just looked deep enough, he'd find the right shape to make. "ssce…r…"
"Starlo." She sniffled. "I'm sorry, Star. I'm so sorry…"
"ccer…o…" He hesitated in stepping closer. But, regardless of what his legs did, his hand reached for her. "r… ro… ba…"
She drew in a sharp breath. There was no time to react before she was on him, squeezing out what little air he'd held in, and wailing.
"Where- Where hhave you BEEN!?" She screamed between tears. "Why di- didn't you t-TELL ANYONE!! We've been worried- sSICK- Your posse- Clover-" Whatever else she'd wanted to scold him for was lost in a sea of blubbering. Her entire face was shoved into his chest at a too-familiar angle, almost practiced. Too familiar not to hug her back and breathe as best he could, between the melting and the squeezing and the fear that if she heard the wheezing in his chest too closely, she'd push him away.
It was strange. He hated when the helper-bots climbed on him. Often, that distress meant he lost a chunk of his body until he managed to fuse it back into him. Guardener learned quickly not to touch him too much, even with just the softest flower petals. It hurt.
But he didn't hate the visitor for this. His breath stuttered, yes, and he was sure his torso would have caved in by now if it weren't for his vines, but she needed this. She needed him. Being here and real for her was the only thing that mattered. It had been a fact for years.
So he put his arms around her, and tucked her head under his chin, and let her cry.
"I- I thhought-" She broke off, only to keep going. "I didn't w-want- I couldn't lose you- Not you, too-"
Too. He knew who she was talking about. A little girl… probably. He couldn't remember her face. It's okay, Ceroba. I'm still here. Words whispered a thousand times, but with no mouth to do it now, all he could give her was his breathing.
And even that stopped, eventually.
Ceroba couldn't let go. Even with the uneven hardness beneath her friend's poncho, and the brokenness of his arms, they were still his arms. He still smelled like him. He still felt like him. He was still him.
Starlo. She'd found Starlo.
Finally. He could come home. She could bring him home. She could finally do something right by her family.
However long it had been since she broke, or since he hugged her back, she didn't know. It scared her when his breathing sputtered out, but his SOUL still burned strong regardless. He still held her.
The hissing had stopped.
Her tears had long since dried when when she lifted her head and looked him in the eyes. It took a moment to find them, actually— the sick growth had pushed them out of place. No amount of healing magic could fix that. She tried anyway.
Starlo groaned softly as the green light of her bells washed over him. The vines rustled and crawled over his eyes, and he pressed his cheek into her hand. The skin was damp, and cold, and oh so familiar despite it all. Ceroba sighed, and leaned up to press her nose to his.
Or… where it was meant to be.
Her breath shook. But she wouldn't allow herself to cry again. She could do that once they were both safe and sound in the Wild East.
"Lets… lets go home, Star." The vines parted slightly over one eye. "Please?" Her voice was barely a whisper. He… didn't seem to know what she meant.
"HIS MEMORY IS FAULTY." Both monsters jumped and turned in unison. Guardener seemed unphased. "OR, AT LEAST, ATTEMPTS AT QUESTIONING HAVE YIELDED NO RESULTS." Starlo sighed, the sound warped and raspy and somehow still cowboy-ish, and stood up straight. She hadn't realized he was bending down to hold her.
What the robot said reached her ears. Memory-? Faulty? She pressed both hands to her friend's face— he leaned down again without even being pulled.
"Star." She paused. This wasn't a question she ever thought she'd have to ask. "Do you know who I am?"
Starlo didn't answer. Instead, he took one of her hands in his own stretched, lanky, dripping gloves, and rubbed his cheek on her paw pads. The motion was so him that Ceroba had to resist the urge to cry again.
"That- Tha-at's not an answer, nightlight…" His hands dwarfed hers now. They'd always been about the same. He made a sound that was almost laughter, soft and confused and tired.
"'Nightlight?' That's not my name!" He'd said, the first time she called him that.
"'Roba' isn't mine, either!" She'd shot back. Her tail had been flipping back and forth, hitting the ground every second despite her indignant tone.
"'Roba' makes sense! Why 'nightlight?'"
And she'd reached up, and grabbed his rays, and he'd gone silent, and they'd started glowing.
Ceroba reached up, and gently rubbed his rays, and he flinched back, and they were dry.
"Sorry," she whispered. "… that's why."
"That's why," she'd giggled. He had pushed his rays back, blushing furiously, and his freckles had looked like a constellation from his books.
She couldn't see his freckles anymore.
His fingers twitched a little closer, almost like they were unable to move like they wanted to, and she felt the vines beneath his skin shift.
"ccer o… b a…" The sounds were strange coming out, stilted and unsure. It was also unmistakably her name. She smiled at him.
"Y- yeah. I'm Ceroba. Your best friend."
Chapter 4
Summary:
2300 words exactly! This one's pretty fun :::::3
Chapter Text
The Dunes were blisteringly hot after so long in the Steamworks. The massive faux-sun they had down here broke through what little shade there was, and Ceroba suddenly understood why Starlo had ran. The heat could not have helped with the persistent headache he had before… this.
Oh Angel, the headache. She looked at the man trailing her. She should have known something was off about it. And now, in proper, non-pink light, she could see how he'd withered away, how he'd lost the vibrant color in his scales, how the vines that grew died just as quickly.
Starlo himself, though, seemed to straighten as soon as the light hit him. He stared into the distance with eyes that did not close but instead just disappeared behind branches. They hadn't been covered for a while now. She figured the light of the Swelterstone must be hurting them.
Then… his hand, which hadn't let go of hers since before they convinced Guardener to let him leave, which had melted into her fingers, unable to properly hold its shape, solidified. She felt the glove split into leather and claws, and hold her with long, curled fingers. When she looked down, it wasn't dripping.
Ceroba looked back up at her friend, who, despite all his brokenness, looked somehow whole, and smiled.
"We're almost home, Star." He looked down at her. She squeezed his hand and he squeezed back. "It's just a little walk to the farm. It's right next to the Wild East."
He perked up at the name. For a moment, she swore his rays twitched.
They began to walk.
"Alright, you… go into the corn, I'll talk to your family. It'll be like a surprise!"
His friend smiled nervously at him; he could hear it in her voice. He was glad for the ability to read her so well, even if he didn't know how he could.
Reluctantly, he shimmied a couple vines away from his eyes. If he was going to be staying out here, he might as well get used to the brightness. It took a minute, but he was eventually able to see what she meant.
Corn. A whole huge field of it. Already, he could pick out a few ready for harvest. This wasn't what grew in his head, but he'd always know it, no matter how much of himself he lost.
He nodded to his friend (Ceroba, Ceroba, Ceroba, he whispered to himself in his mind) and slipped between the stalks in an almost instinctual way, like his twisted body still remembered how to. He heard his friend breathe in and out, and copied her, and she walked away.
His hand felt empty without hers. Cold. He'd been holding it for so long…
… he'd… find something else to hold! Like this corn!
His friend knocked on a door some distance away. He fluffed his poncho out and started examining ears. The door opened, and she spoke. He quickly lost his focus on her as he broke off a perfectly ripe corn cob. Two, three, four voices, now. Two, three, four more cobs. He caught his own name in a tearful tone for a second, then caught an odd-looking ear of corn in the corner of his eye. Oh, there was another one. His poncho was getting pretty full. He noted for the first time that his feet weren't rooting into the ground.
"Starlo! You can come out now!" He absentmindedly called back to her, paying very little attention to how the noise sounded, and snapped off one final plant.
"Again, I need you to not freak out," Ceroba stressed. "He's going to look very different than the last time you saw him. It's… bad." She barely whispered the last part. Her now-empty hand rubbed her arm— without Starlo's to hold, it felt even colder.
The Sunnyside Farm family already looked shaken from the sound he'd made. She couldn't read his tone as well as she used to which hurt, but she was pretty sure it was akin to "be there in a second."
Heavy footsteps approached and Ceroba turned to see Starlo, as overgrown as he'd been five minutes ago, holding… his poncho? Full of corn? Well, she couldn't say she was surprised. He used that thing as a basket more than he used an actual basket.
His mother choked. His father's eyes widened. His brother stepped back.
Starlo did not seem bothered by any of this— she noticed he had his eyes covered again. He took something from his pile of corn.
"Huh? What's-" She took what was handed to her before registering that it was there. "A… corn dog. Thank… you?" Dogs were not the intended shape for corn. They tasted off. Great in some dishes, terrible in others. Did he not remember what they were…?
Orion stepped forward. One hand was on the trowel he always kept at his waist. The other was reaching for his brother.
"Starlo…?" Woof. Deja vu. She swore her own voice sounded exactly like that when she found him.
Starlo reached into his pile of corn again and pulled out another oddly-shaped cob, handing it to Orion without hesitation. He took it.
Faintly befuddled by what just happened, Orion looked at the corn instead. "A corn cat… How did you-?" He looked at Ceroba's corn dog and back. Starlo made a little "well?" gesture,
Solomon sniffled. "My boy…" Starlo turned instantly to his father, vines shifting to let him see. "Ya still rem'mber how ta pick em out…"
He glanced at his collection of corn, dug through it for a minute, and produced a perfect pair of corn cobs. Solomon and Crestina each took one offered to them, the former bursting into tears that instant and the latter pushing forward to hug her lost son.
Starlo went rigid. As rigid as he could go when it looked like he was going to start melting again, anyway. But his arm still wrapped around his mother, patted her on the shoulder, and let her hang on. Soon after, his whole family had followed suit, and he had to resort to growing vines to hug them all back if he didn't want to drop his haul.
It was hours before his family felt secure enough in his very existence to let him go and reunite with his friends. During that time, Ceroba left to explain the situation to his "posse" ahead of time, though not without her own fair share of fretting. He'd spent a lot of time just assuring her he was fine here, despite the melting, and the vines, and the pacing so he didn't root-
Okay, maybe he was a little stressed. But he couldn't just leave his family like that! He loved them!
… He couldn't remember why he loved them, but he still did.
It was a weird feeling. To love someone so much and have no memories to tell him why. He wasn't even sure who these people were to him. It wasn't all that different with his friend, but friend was different than family.
His head hurt.
He found himself wishing for her presence again, and felt guilty about it. The people who shared his magic should've been enough. Their warmth, their scales, their touch, it should have been enough.
Instead, it was wrong.
He wanted to lean into it. He wanted to flinch away. He wanted to bask in the warmth he hadn't known in the Greenhouse. He wanted to run back and hide in the room Guardener said was his.
Their clinging should've been comforting. Their clinging hurt.
They seemed awfully concerned about his condition. Yes, it hurt, but he had always been hurting. The way his vines grew simply didn't leave any room for what "no pain" might have felt like. Yes, his body bent in off ways and sometimes the vines wound too tight to move without having to break them, and his fingers were unusable more often than not, but he'd lived with that all just fine for however long.
Taking his hand to try and reshape it hurt. Prodding at the plants hurt. Stop trying to fix him. It. Hurt.
"… what are you doing?"
He gestured to the spout of water hitting his face.
Orion was quiet for a moment.
"… you know what, you do you. I'm gonna keep looking for those dogs."
Starlo gurgled gratefully.
"Ma's gonna towel you down after that."
Starlo groaned.
"Star, I'm ba-! Wh… You're soaking wet, what happened?"
"He laid under the water spout for half an hour."
Ceroba blinked.
"Huh."
Starlo's hand was no longer as stable, but he still held Ceroba's with it like she was the only one that mattered. She squeezed back just as fiercely.
It had taken a lot of convincing to let his parents and brother let him go, even though the Wild East wasn't a 10-minute walk from the farm. She had to promise he'd be back to sleep. Maybe they could arrange a sleepover, so the Feisty Five didn't have to let go either.
She couldn't blame any of them for wanting to keep him close.
Starlo hunched low over her shoulder as she led him to town. His eyes were covered, and his breathing was uneven. She was starting to worry about making reintroductions this soon; clearly his family had been a lot for him. He was living alone in the Steamworks for a month… robots were too different from people to count.
But still… she'd already told the Five that she had found him. She couldn't turn around and keep him gone for another day, none of them would sleep. That kind of waiting was agony. The few hours they'd been waiting were already agony.
Ceroba knew that type of pain. She would not inflict it on anyone else.
She didn't talk much on the way over. Just a brief explanation of the posse and how they were feeling. They were so excited to have him back— vines and all, she assured him. The slippery hold on her hand shifted and tightened with her words; she hoped that still meant he was listening.
Finally, they'd reached his town.
The Wild East was as busy as ever. Which was to say, not very much these days. Things had really gone downhill after the Sheriff went missing. Ceroba was just glad he was back before it got worse.
The Feisty Five were all waiting around the bell in the center of town. Ace was doing card tricks for no one. Mooch was trying to climb everyone (and everyone kept putting her back down). Moray was painting the hilt of their rapier. Ed was holding a photo album like he was resisting the urge to look through it for the ten millionth time. And Clover was… nowhere to be found.
Ceroba squinted. Wait, no, there they were. They were sitting on the other side of the bell, obscured by the other four.
"Star," she murmured. Her friend stood a little straighter. "We're here."
He looked up. The movement alerted the Five, and there was chaos in an instant.
The good kind of chaos, thankfully.
"NORTH STAR!!" Mooch squealed, zooming across the sand to catch him in a hug. Ed followed instantly, dropping the photo album, and Moray couldn't even be mad that they'd been startled into messing up the paint because they were also hugging him and crying.
Ace had caught the album on a card, and was now slowly approaching the overgrown sheriff like he wasn't on the verge of tears himself. His act failed when Ed pulled him in and picked up the entire sobbing group. Starlo himself was making noises that almost sounded like greetings, and definitely sounded happy.
The fox smiled, her ears finally going all the way up. Surely things would be better now. Even if his memory was lost, he clearly still loved them all a lot. Even if he was melting around his own vines, he was still overjoyed to be home.
It hit her that there was still someone who hadn't joined the group hug. She looked over to…
Clover.
Clover was standing there, just where they'd been. Their hands were pressed tightly to their mouth, tears were running down their cheeks, and their eyes- Oh, their eyes-
Their eyes were wide with something that transcended horror. Something past the eternal mixture of despair, hope, and fear that she'd seen in everyone else. They were looking at Starlo like they recognized what this was.
Like they knew what had happened.
Ceroba was suddenly dropped with a yelp.
"Sorry, fellas," Ed grinned sheepishly. He shook out his hands. "My arms got tired." Star was quick to reassure him, though he couldn't do much past a malformed shoulder pat and something that could've been words, once.
Ceroba found herself wondering what remained of his mouth, as gruesome as that was.
Mooch quickly scaled the poncho, plopping herself firmly on Star's shoulders and giggling wildly while she tried to steer him to the bell. Instead, he reached up, lifted her, and dropped to one knee so she didn't hit the ground too hard when he dropped her.
"Aww, I thought you forgot about that!" She pouted. Star poked her cheek, grumbling. His finger stuck to her fur for a brief moment. "That always worked in my dreams…"
Ace rolled his eye. He was sticking close to the Sheriff, though not quite touching. The same could not be said for Moray, who'd had their tail wrapped around Star's ankle since the moment it was close enough to do so.
Ed was the second to realize who was missing. "Clover!" He called. "Get ova' here, it ain't a proper welcome without ya!" And North Star looked at the human
and stood
up
straight.
Chapter Text
Clover stared. Clover couldn't look away.
The sight was so much worse when it was real. They'd seen a version of this before, but that glitching mass of plants didn't do justice to it. At least when it was only a nightmare induced by Flowey, they couldn't look at it for long enough to really process it if they wanted to survive.
Now, though?
There was no glitching. Just a moving mass of pale scales and brown vines, growing through holes in his clothes, piloting his skin,
looking at them.
The plants snapped apart, revealing his lidless left eye.
His left eye had always been his sharper one.
Ceroba's nose twitched.
Clover dove.
The noise started just as quickly as it had last time. The bell pillar offered only a brief respite before they had to scramble away from the debris, desperately avoiding explosion after explosion.
The Feisty Five (plus Ceroba) were frantic, screaming at North Star to stop, and pulling at him like that would erase the single-minded hatred he'd set himself on.
"Howdy! Boy, this is quite a predicament you're in, huh?"
Maybe that was unfair. Clover accidentally grazed a shockwave. What happened here hadn't been his fault at all. Ceroba had said he didn't remember anything-
They bit back a cry as their side took the brunt of another bomb.
"Don't worry, pal, I know who did this to you! With your own gift, no less!"
North Star wasn't moving. Despite anyone's attempts to budge him, he stayed as still as the pillar he'd just destroyed. Even Ed couldn't— when he tried, a horribly familiar wall of thorns burst up from the sand-
-37
"I mean, what kind of deputy betrays their sheriff like this? Eh, I'm sure you can take them out now!"
Ceroba flung her staff out and cast the shield she'd given them in the Steamworks. They wouldn't let it go to waste.
But they weren't sure how much longer they could endure this.
"They're just a little human by the name of-"
"CLOVER!!"
They turned. Their shield shattered. Ace rushed in, flinging attacks to intercept the bombs until he skidded to a stop in front of them. A new shield of massive playing cards encircled the two of them.
Clover gasped for breath, struggling not to collapse. He snapped his fingers, and a new set of cards appeared— three of them, fading quickly away to a familiar attack. The human ducked-
And felt green magic washing over them.
They looked up, HP now full again. Ace wasn't looking back, too focused on keeping the shield up. "Are you okay?"
They managed to hum a yes.
"Starlo, PLEASE!" Ceroba screamed. "Clover doesn't deserve this!!"
Hypocritical, considering she'd done worse three months ago. But Star wasn't even listening. She was choking on the smell of gunpowder.
Their efforts weren't doing anything. It was like he'd been made to destroy the child. Ceroba's silent prayers that Ace would hold out were starting to feel doomed.
Mooch darted behind Starlo, and finally he made a noise that wasn't hissing.
He screamed.
The bomb attacks stopped, but he whirled on Mooch and she was trapped in vines before Ceroba realized what happened. Before she saw what she'd been desperately ignoring this whole time.
His tail. His poor, crushed tail, just as tied up in thorns as the rest of him. His tail that hadn't moved since she found him. His tail that might never move again.
It was bent at a lower angle than before.
Mooch stared defiantly up at her Sheriff. "I'm sorry, North Star, but you weren't listening! I had to!" He screeched back at her. Ceroba realized what the 'hissing' actually was. "I know, I know, rule 1, but that's Clover you're attacking! Our deputy! Our FRIEND!"
It wasn't hissing at all.
The vines tightened around Mooch. She continued her arguing. "They're human, but they're a good human! They helped you, they helped Ceroba!"
The fox readied her staff.
It wasn't hissing. It was rattling.
She cast the spell.
North Star went still.
Mooch held her expression for another few seconds. Then it broke, and she slumped over, sighing.
"I got him. I got through to him for a second." She lifted her head. "Thanks, Ceroba."
The fox bent down to undo the vines. Mostly through fire. Controlled fire.
Mooch twisted her little limbs away from the thorns, wincing. "He's still in there. There's no way he isn't."
Ceroba nodded. "He is. He recognized me after calming down. And he knew his family, and the farm."
"He doesn't know much," the squirrel mumbled. "But he will."
She said it with the absolute conviction Ceroba often heard from her. She spoke like that just before Clover arrived, saying the town would see better days soon. She used that tone when she'd told Ceroba, before the blue SOUL incident, that no matter what happened, she had to stay true. She had told her once, with that conviction, that her daughter would come home.
She said, a month ago, when Starlo's headache showed up, that they should have watched for a flower.
Ceroba looked at the white sunflower on North Star's hat.
Ace and Clover were covered with sand. Ed and Mooch were covered in thorns. Moray's hands were covered in paint. And Star had the worse case of exhaustion he'd ever had in his life.
Whatever happened, everyone was wary of him now. The little human was hiding behind the shadowy trickster, the aquatic was no longer clinging to him, the strongman and the fluffy thief kept a safe distance while they freed each other from their splinters, and the fox friend was… guilty.
Her ears and nose were pointed down. Her tail grazed the sand. Her hands clutched the summoned staff like a lifeline. She looked like she'd been caught stealing from the tip jar.
Star's head hurt. But, hey, he could keep his own name in his memory now, unfinished as it was.
Now, what happened? The last few minutes were a blur of rage and an annoying, squeaky voice. He forced his eyes to stay uncovered through the burning light so he could figure it out.
His friend had done something to stop him. There were craters all over town. The bell was now in a pile of rubble. The smell of something dusty hung in the air. And the human's clothes were covered in burns.
… Oh. Oh, no.
It had taken quite a while, a dozen and a half apologetic noises, some reintroductions, and too much repression of that same annoying voice, but Star was now working on fixing the damage he'd caused. Ceroba had begun insisting that he shouldn't, after that spell she used, but he waved her off. He was Sheriff, and Sheriff fixed his messes!
So the bell pillar was back up, if a little worse for wear, by the time he felt the need to root into the ground and nap until the sprinklers went off.
… wait, there weren't any sprinklers here. He knew this because they would have gone off already. Dang.
He gave the bell a little test ring. It ding-donged pleasantly! So he tapped it again, and again, and then just kept going… the sound was nice, sue him!
The fluffy thief - Mooch - giggled behind him. He looked down to see her reaching up with little grabby-hands. Well, after what he'd done, this was the least he could give her specifically.
Star bent down, picked her up, and dropped her on top of the bell pillar.
The next few minutes got very annoying, very fast.
Star let it continue, at least until Ace came up.
"North Star, please make her stop. I ask this on behalf of everyone in town." He gestured vaguely to everything surrounding them. Mooch stuck out her tongue.
"He let me come up here! So, ha, you can't ask me to do anything else!"
Star picked her up and put her back on the ground.
"WHAT!?" She squeaked. Ace squinted away. "Hey, don't laugh at me!"
"Expectations subverted. It seems you do still have a sense of humor, Star." The overgrown monster winked - uh, attempted to, anyway - and shot off a dripping finger gun.
A laser hit the ground behind him.
Ah, shit. He hadn't meant to actually figure off any attacks. The Dunes were prompting types of magic he hadn't even thought of before. Mooch, for all her sudden poofiness, seemed fine though so he filed that away in his head for later practice.
Actually, now that he was paying attention, he realized that the little human wasn't with the cardsmith. He pointed, and made the best questioning noise he could.
Ace looked around for a second before realizing what he meant. He not-so-subtly tipped his hat down to cover a blush that wouldn't have been visible anyway.
"Ah- Clover? They're with Ed at the moment." Star crooned. There was something in his tone— something hardly audible but still there. It worried him.
"Don't worry, boss," Mooch chimed in, bumping him a little. "Clover loves being picked up like a sack o' potatoes! It makes them all weightless."
That… wasn't what he was worried about, but he patted her on the shoulder regardless.
He had to go give a proper apology to the deputy.
Chapter Text
"Star."
Oh, for- what did he do now? He had literally just been tending to corn for two hours, why did Moray sound so disappointed-
"You've been skipping Cowboy Grammar Classes."
Ohhhh. He forgot those were a thing. A little guiltily, he turned to the sword-wielding fish. Their arms were crossed, but other than that, they seemed calm…
"I would assume you need some of those. You haven't been nearly as talkative today." He shrugged, avoiding eye contact. He knew cowboy grammar just fine, assuming it was what he always thought in. "Plus, you still don't know the difference between 'duel' and 'dual.'"
He snapped back to looking at them, screeching indignantly with instinctual defensiveness.
Moray laughed and ran off. "We'll be back home if you decide you want to join us!"
He held up an amorphous middle finger.
Someone knocked on the door to the Feisty Flat. Rather frantically, Clover might add.
"I'll get it," Ed announced before Mooch could jump up from cowboy grammar circle. She sat there, sulking, as the door was opened and Ed got about two words in before Dalv was shoving his head through the frame.
"I got here as quick as I could!! Did you really find him-?" Oh, good, he got Clover's letter.
North Star - or rather, Starlo - got up from his spot. Clover flinched. He had been less hostile since that first encounter, but they still found it difficult to look at him. Every time he moved…
This was real. This was their new reality, until Flowey got tired of it and loaded the right file.
Judging from his expression, Dalv was having the same realization.
"Oh… Star…" The despair in his voice had all the Five wincing. They knew perfectly well that they'd been willing to ignore his new form just as long as he was home. Everyone else… not so much.
The sheriff tipped his hat in an attempted welcome. His vines twitched and morphed and Clover had to look away. The damage that had been done meant nothing would be the same, even as he painstakingly dragged out his own alias.
Dalv was shaking. He seemed about to fall over, clutching his cloak like he never could in the Dunes. It was far too hot. If he kept it on, he must really be rattled.
"I… I know who you are, North Star. Do you know me-?" His voice gave out just before he stopped talking. The last few words were little more than air.
North Star tipped his head just slightly. The vines over his right eye moved away. The vampire nearly collapsed. This sight was certainly not for the faint of heart, and Dalv's was too faint for this.
North Star shook his head. Ed wasn't able to catch their houseguest before he hit the floor.
Despite not knowing who the cloaked monster was, North Star was still worried for him. The man passed out at just the sight of him. It was the least he could do to make sure he was okay… and stay out of sight for the rest of his visit.
This was about the fifth time someone had reacted to him in this way. It was worst with Ceroba, but he still didn't want to scare everyone in town. He was starting to think going back to the Greenhouse would be the better option.
"I TOLD YOU WHEN YOU ARRIVED HERE. YOUR APPEARANCE IS UNUSUAL."
Regardless, he got their visitor some water and corn, and left the house before he got back up. There was no good in staying when it could happen again.
North Star decided to explore. Admittedly, he hadn't seen much of this 'Wild East' his friend had brought him to. At first, he was drawn to the diner behind the bell, but… monsters were in there. He went back the way they'd come, instead.
There was a shop that way. No one was there - outside, anyway - so he decided here was as good a place as any to pass the time. There were a couple of training dummies past a pile of sandbags. He could practice his new magic there.
He held up a hand, took aim, and fired. The laser hit the wall next to him.
Okay, not a great start, but not terrible. He held up a hand, took aim, and fired. The laser hit the sand. Which was closer to the dummy, so that was an improvement. He held up his other hand, took aim, and fired.
Bullseye.
North Star wasn't sure how long he'd been gone, but eventually he heard someone coming to get him. He shot off one last round and turned to face them.
"Still sharp, I see," Moray said.
He grumbled a greeting. Nice to see you, too.
"I just thought you'd like to know, Dalv's doing better now. He got up pretty quick." Dalv. That must be the cloaked monster's name. It sounded right. "He's joining us for nap time, if you'd like to as well…?"
North Star looked away. Who'd want to wake up and look at him? (Who made of magic, anyhow.) Besides, the house was small. And when he napped, he rooted. That couldn't be good for the furniture.
"Star." Moray pressed a claw to his forehead. "I know that look. Stop worrying, everything will be fine."
Star glared at them with no real heat.
"We'd all love to have you back in the house. It simply hasn't been the same without." He rolled his shoulders and looked back at the dummies. He could tell Moray was losing steam. "We all need to rest sometime, North Star. Ask Ed. Or even Mooch! You know she gets sloppy when she hasn't had a nap."
He huffed. He hadn't known that, actually, until just now.
Moray drew their fangs in behind their lips. "He'll get used to you, Star. He knows now."
After a beat of silence, and Star turning back to the shooting range, they sighed, and began to leave.
"You don't have to nap with us. But… nap somewhere, okay?"
"…" He flexed his left hand. "o… k ay."
Moray chuckled, and walked away.
He decided to nap in the corn field. It was similar enough to the Greenhouse, there.
He woke up due to being picked up like a sack of potatoes and slung over Ed's shoulder.
"Sorry, sheriff," the strongman said, unshaken by his screech. "But Dalv's leavin'. Thought you'd wanna say g'bye."
This felt freakishly familiar. Star planted his elbows on Ed's back and settled in for the ride.
Dalv really did not want to leave so soon. He still hadn't made up for fainting like that in front of North Star— he hadn't been able to when he was nowhere to be found. But Pops should not be left alone with Flier for this long…
He shifted on his feet and reached for the UGPS bell just as heavy footsteps got close enough to be heard. The vampire turned, and the first thing his eyes caught on was a tail twisted like a tree. He cringed.
"Found 'im, Dalv," Ed said, dropping the disfigured sheriff from his shoulder. Surprisingly, the man stayed upright. North Star steadied himself, bent down to Dalv's level (which was so unnerving), and rasped out something that, once upon a time, had been "Howdy." Dalv cleared his throat. Language, don't fail him now.
"H-hello, North Star," he practically squeaked. Wow, terrible start. This was so much easier in his head. "I just- wanted to say, I'm… I'm sorry, for how I acted-? Upon arrival?" He cringed harder, at himself this time. Angel, this was just one trainwreck after another. Why did he think coming here was a good idea??
North Star stared silently at him - was it staring if he appeared to have no eyes? - and then, North Star lifted a hand to him.
Dalv looked at it. Quite the sight, but… it was Clover's friend's hand, was it not?
(He still wasn't sure if he and North Star counted as friends. The man was… weird, about that. Not that he had much room to judge.)
"A handshake?" The mass of vines that somehow constituted a face nodded. He gave the best smile he could, which was noticeably weak and shaky so he could only hope North Star couldn't actually see it (oh god that was a horrible thing to think), and took the offered hand.
It was squishy. He resisted the urge to shudder, or pass out again, both of which would be terrible.
"Thank you… I do hope I wasn't too terrible a guest." North Star tipped his head up and made a dismissive sound that he couldn't begin to decipher, but hoped it meant good things. "I must be getting home now. Work to be done, you know… See you around? Friend?"
The sheriff let go, stood up straighter, tipped his hat and nodded. The vines around his mouth twitched. "s… a fe…!" That seemed to be all he was capable of. Safe travels, he always said when Dalv left town.
The vampire smiled a little more genuinely. "To you as well, even if you are not going anywhere." He turned and rung the bell, set to wait patiently for the Mail Whale to carry him away.
"Hey, good job, sheriff," he heard Ed say as the two left. "Oh- you goin' home? Arright, we'll see ya later." A door opened and closed, and Dalv stood alone there until the Mail Whale came.
Although, with how long he'd been away, he wouldn't be surprised if Pops had somehow buried the house.
Pops had not buried the house. Pops had, however, coerced Flier into taking him to the top of the cavern, which was a bad idea on so many levels, OH GOD FLIER-
Notes:
I think Pops has a ghost monster in him, and that ghost monster is made of chaos when it's not chilling in a dark closet. It got bored while Dalv was away.
Chapter 7
Summary:
Don't ask how Star eats. I think he just kinda puts it in the gaping hole in his face and the goo in that acts like acid.
Chapter Text
North Star shuffled behind the curtain. He didn't think this was the best way to reintroduce himself to the town, but he had to admit, Moray's singing was a damn good opening act combined with the other three's instrumental skills.
Okay, just say the line and go. Just say the line and go. He formed a makeshift mouth again and murmured "howdy, howdy, howdy" under his breath. Some days of Cowboy Grammar Classes had gotten him able to do that, at least. It wasn't easy, but it wasn't impossible.
"howdy, i m back, howdy, i'm back-" He almost tripped over something suddenly running into his legs.
North Star looked down and saw Clover, speared through with vines staring right back up with as blank an expression as they could muster.
Oh. So they hadn't run into him, he'd just been pacing. He knew this because it had happened multiple times in the last week.
They reached up and silently adjusted his bandana. He stayed as still as possible. It freaked them out when he moved too suddenly… mostly his vines… but they still spent a lot of time around him. They were even doing this reintroduction thing with him and the other Four. He'd treat them to something from the menu once this was over.
Clover stepped back and tried a smile at him. He gave them a thumbs-up.
… a goopy thumbs-up, but still. Lord, was he always this nervous before a performance?
The crowd outside was getting louder.
Moray's performance was reaching its peak, though. There couldn't be more than… a few dozen monsters out there, right? Counting his friends?
He realized he'd started rattling, and made an effort to calm himself down.
Clover hummed. "Wanna practice?" He looked down at them again. They had no eyes. The two had practiced the five-second routine so many times at this point, but he couldn't say no to a bit of perfection.
The two got in position, Clover on the right and North Star on the left.
"Okay, so the others are out there, which means we can't move out too much," the deputy said, mostly to themselves. "So we go like this, and that, and- ha!" In sync, the two threw open an imaginary curtain, twirled, and shot finger guns into the air. North Star forced out his line in a dramatic, if raspy, way, and they both did a little hop that would've been off the stage if they were on it.
Clover giggled in anticipation. He knew they were looking forward to it, after the month of not being on-stage with him. He couldn't remember ever being on-stage, but they'd said it. Hopefully, these people would receive a show better than the Lil Bots.
"Bandits, face your last hurrah~ DRAW!" Moray cried from the other side of the curtain. Clover looked over.
"That's almost the cue. Y'ready?" He nodded decisively and gave them a little finger-gun of their own. They returned it, grinning widely. Moray started off on the speech they'd been practicing. "This is gonna be great!! Jus' don't worry!"
The words sounded familiar. Maybe he'd said them, a lifetime ago.
"I'm sure you've all seen the flyers, that reminiscing wasn't just for show!" North Star took a deep breath. Here we go. "And it would be cruel o' me to keep y'all waiting any longer!" Clover took his right hand and held it fast. They nodded at him, determination in their eyes, and he nodded back, rays bouncing with the motion. They were no longer dry and tangled in dead vines. "So, without further ado," Moray said with an almost audible flourish. "A new face, but the same old friend: Our Sheriff, North Star!!"
The two cowboys in waiting threw open the bright red curtain, twirled and shot off duel finger guns.
"Howdy! I'm BACK!"
And the crowd erupted into cheers.
Cheers.
He'd been expecting screaming, or silence, but they cheered.
North Star hopped off the stage, just as practiced, and picked Clover up, which was not, but they were laughing, so it was fine. He spun them onto a bar stool and sat down right next to them, kicking his feet.
He didn't think he'd ever kicked his feet out of excitement like this.
"Dina!" Clover crowed. "Two Feisty Sliders an' root beers, please!" Ah, shit- Star rifled through his pockets for his wallet. His deputy laughed. "Star, you always treat me!" He did? Well, he wasn't going to stop now, and he made that very clear as he gestured at them with his wallet and no actual words.
"Here ya go, premium membership," the be-snake-d bartender said, handing them both a burger with fries and bottles.
Clover gasped. "Extra cheese!?"
"Yep. 104G, y'all." North Star fished out the proper amount from his wallet, noting to himself that he really should sort these coins (he knew he wouldn't), and handed it over with surprisingly stable hands. The bartender nodded and left.
Ceroba was called up on stage to tell people what happened. If she told the truth, that story would involve a lot of crying… but, somehow, he didn't think that would be what happened.
Clover popped open their root beer and started chugging it. North Star laughed, picked up a fry, and popped it in his mouth.
… Or… he meant to. His vines got in the way.
Wait, how was he actually supposed to eat this?
Eventually, the food was eaten. Eventually.
After the party - which was overwhelming, exhausting, and the most fun he'd ever had - was nap time. North Star, who had never previously spent nap time in the house, lead the rest and plopped down on the sofa. He watched the rest move to their places, cover the windows, and settle in to sleep. Moray's sleeping bag, Ed's dirt hole, Ace's hammock, Mooch's counter bed, and Clover's actual bed. Ceroba hadn't followed.
Star wiggled into a comfortable position and took a deep breath. He had to admit, this was nicer than lying in the dirt. Everything here was well-worn and well-loved. Sleeping here with everyone felt right.
He wasn't sure how long he'd been out when someone tried to climb him. He didn't open his eyes, barely aware as he was, but he shifted onto his back and let the little person curl up on his chest. He wrapped them in his arms. He took a deep breath. And just like that, he was asleep again.
When the windows were uncovered and light shown down on him again, he looked down and found Clover, safe and sound and burying their face in his poncho.
Well, how was he supposed to get up now? Oh well. He'll just have to resign himself to being a pillow.
The others got up one by one. Star did not. To move would be to disturb the human child who'd deemed him more comfortable than a bed. Eventually, Clover themselves finally sat up, rubbing their eyes and yawning like a kitten.
Starlo noticed their eyes were red around the edges.
… that probably didn't mean anything.
But now they could all enjoy the movie that the others had put on while waiting for their last two friends to get up. Starlo knew he was!
"… you need a bath," Clover mumbled.
These people had hot water. HOT water. Not just warm water that had been sitting in the Greenhouse systems for forever. It was glorious.
Of course, he had to take off his poncho and hat to get in, which sucked for two reasons: One, he had to wait. Two, he really really didn't want to part with them. They were his identity— or, at least, they gave him one. He had made them.
He didn't know what would happen if he let someone else have them.
… oh, and there were dozens of vines growing through them that basically glued them to him. So, that too, but less so.
There was, at least, a solution to that last one. The gray lizard woman - Crestina, his ma, apparently - had offered to shear his vines. "Just like weeds," she said.
… well, "offered" was a light word. More like she insisted on it.
So now he was sitting off to the side of the corn field, trying not to fidget as she oh-so-carefully severed his clothes from his body.
"Where did you even pick these up?" She asked, snipping another gray-green growth. He shrugged as carefully as monsterly possible. "They don't grow anywhere around here. I don't think I've ever seen them." He hummed, and then repressed a shiver as she cut a little too close to one of his rays. "Oh, I'm sorry, shooting star."
He decided then and there that he would not trust this woman with sharp objects near his head again. Mostly due to the sudden, terrifying image of her rapidly chopping a corn cob all the way through with ease.
He had to stay here until this was done, though.
When it was, his costume, as she called it, was peeled away, along with her shuddering eyes. Starlo got a look at his own melting, tangled body for the first time.
It wasn't that bad, all things considered. Vines had clambered for space in his chest like they had in his face. These ones had more thorns, though, since he couldn't usually reach them to pick at them. Bright red bits around the dull colors of the rest of him. He thought they looked okay, even if they clashed with his outfit.
The shirt he'd been wearing for who knows how long had been torn to shreds. His pants and boots were in slightly better condition… slightly. Salvageable, at least. And though his flesh was a goopy mess, he still held his shape.
Little victories.
Plus, the trimming meant he looked a little cleaner! Even if he inexplicably felt a little blinder!
Thoughts for another day. For now, bath time.
Hot running water was the best invention ever (next to cowboys) and he would stand by this for the rest of his days.
Chapter 8
Summary:
This was one of my favorite chapters to write next to Chapters 1 and 10 :3c
Chapter Text
North Star came home one day to the sound of crying.
It wasn't long after he'd been able to stitch together the holes in his poncho. (The sewing machine was a dream, by the way. He swore the thing was invented by the Angel itself.) Now less withered and infinitely better-looking, he had noticed Clover looking somehow more shaken.
It was definitely their voice behind the house, trying and failing to choke back sobs. He sped around to find them, but-
A new voice. A familiar voice. He stopped, just out of view. He could see Clover's boots.
"Come on, pal! I think I would've noticed if you'd somehow gained magic that strong in the last few months."
"But I- I- it can't be anything else- I don't know… what…"
"Buddy. So you shot him a dozen times in the last run. That doesn't mean anything! I reset for ya to make up for my little tantrum and you decided it was a good idea to keep being buddy-buddy with the people you killed. Who am I to tell ya whether or not that was a bad decision?"
Clover sniffled. "You- you have to go back- I h-have to stop this-"
"I dunno what to tell ya, Gun-hat! If I reset and you can't do anything, you'll just have to live that whooole month again without him, I mean, can you really do it? Howzabout you just try to enjoy what you have?"
"But I DID THIS!!" Clover wailed. "I k- And now, and-"
"Hey, he's not completely ruined this time! Only mostly ruined! He's still alive, isn't he? And I kinda think he looks better this way!"
North Star didn't know what he was hearing. He couldn't help but think of what he sort of believed to be a hallucination, back when he couldn't move, back during his first days in the Greenhouse.
The annoying, high-pitched voice, cajoling him into believing his deputy was his mortal enemy. The memory he had to ignore every time he saw them. The same unseen person that was now talking to them, very real.
North Star turned to leave.
A golden flower popped up in front of him.
"Well, HOWDY, partner!" The flower said, much louder than necessary. "What'cha doing up and about?"
Star froze.
Not by choice.
"Wh-" Tiny footsteps approached rapidly. "S-Starlo!?" He couldn't look. He tried his hardest, but he couldn't move. Why couldn't he move!?
"See, pal? He's fiiine. Full of life! Even if it was your fault-"
"Not in front of him, wait-"
"- he doesn't mind! He doesn't even remember your betrayal!"
"Flowey!" The human cried. Starlo stared down at the flower. Those words were way too familiar.
"What? If we wanted, he wouldn't even know this conversation happened! Right, deputy?"
Starlo's arms jerked. They went straight and rigid at his sides, but he wasn't even moving them, what was happening? His legs shifted to turn him around, and suddenly he wasn't looking at the flower, but instead at the human.
They stumbled back. Fear. Their face was full of fear.
Starlo tried to look anywhere else. Anywhere but Clover. Anything to tell them it wasn't him doing this.
His vines were unnervingly still.
"Come on, Clover! Say the word and I'll go back twenty minutes or so, none of this will have ever happened."
His hands twitched. He tried to crane his head back to look at the flower again. It didn't work. Starlo breathed in, shaky, raspy. He forgot how much he hated this feeling.
Clover gasped so quietly he could have mistaken it for a simple jolt of the lungs. But when he looked back down at them, their brows were furrowed with some sort of realization.
"… it was you."
There was silence. He somehow knew the flower was smiling. A wicked, manic smile, that he was sure he'd be mimicking if he had a mouth to do so with.
"You did this to him," they whispered. "Why?"
Flowey began to giggle. Then, Flowey began to laugh. Then Flowey began to cackle.
"Why not!? What's more fun than watching you squirm, trying to fix something that's unfixable?" Starlo's body lurched forward. His head and hands cracked with sudden, sharp movements, reaching for the flinching human.
"Stop!!" He tried to look back again. Obviously he failed, being unable to turn his neck. Flowey continued to laugh.
"So, you finally get it this round! Every timeline, you come to me despite knowing what I did." Starlo's vines twisted around his own rays. They squeezed. A hoarse scream forced its way out of his throat. "How long until that stops? Til you decide that someone who understands isn't worth the pain you invite?"
His body jolted upright, bent, a hand on his stuck revolver and the other hanging awkwardly in the air. He couldn't even rattle. The vines made the sound in lieu of his tail, and he couldn't move them.
Clover looked helpless.
He fought the movement as much as he could, screeching at the flower that thought it could control him and torment his deputy without consequence.
"Wow, pal, that Determination of yours sure is strong!" There was something in the way he said that word. Determination.
Clover clenched their fists. "What did you do!?"
He was melting. He was melting away. Turning to sludge between his vines. He couldn't do that, he had to stay together. For Clover.
"Come on, buddy. You really think he'd still be alive like he was?" Flowey wrapped him up tight. He made sure he knew just how irate he was, though the pressure was getting worse and worse. "Don't you know what Ceroba did?" Ceroba? What did this have to do with-
A shot rang out. Flowey was gone, Starlo was free, and Clover's six-shooter was smoking.
The sheriff spun and slammed his foot into the ground where the flower had just been. Now again in control of the vines, he shot them downward, aiming to chase the bandit of a plant down and tear his petals off. How dare he!
Something thumped behind him. He looked back. Clover was on the ground, hands wrapped weakly around their gun. A blank expression settled itself carefully on their face, barely concealing the tears in their eyes.
Without lifting his foot, Starlo kneeled down and held his arms out for them. They were still tangled up and barely solid, which he winced at, but his deputy was more important than his debatable stability.
They didn't respond.
He called, softly, and realized the vines were still too tight around his chest. The effort it took to loosen them was more than it should've been.
Clover twitched, and looked up, and seemed to remember that he was there. They shuffled forward and flopped into his poncho. Starlo put his arms around them, breathing as well as he could for them to hear. He was still here. He was alive.
So were they.
They were both fin-
North Star came home one day to a hug and an apology from Clover.
He wasn't sure what they were apologizing for, though. Maybe they broke something?
He felt noticeably more goopy than he had a minute ago. He probably just needed a nap. It was about that time, anyway.
The sheriff picked his deputy up, and, for a second, thought he saw a flash of gold.
Chapter Text
Clover was leaving for a while. He'd helped them pack, but he still didn't know why.
They waved goodbye to him as they climbed into the Mail Whale's basket with Ceroba, who was there to make sure they got to wherever they were going safely. Her hand slipped from his, empty once more, and they were gone.
Ed clapped a giant hand on his shoulder. "Welp, just us for the day!"
"I say we find some seasonal outfits," Ace said, already flipping through his cards for inspiration. "Switch things up a bit for Ketsukane rice season. The Swelterstone is due to dim soon."
"Ooh, does that mean we can switch up our card suits!?" Mooch bounced up on Ace's shoulder, being instantly shot down with a firm "Absolutely not."
Moray pulled at the collar of their shirt to appraise it. "I rather like the diamond aesthetic I've been working with! Speaking of, though, perhaps once the harvest is in… rice cards?"
"Ooh, rice cards sound great."
"We can play Six-Shooter with them!"
"You're still not allowed. You keep eating the cards when you're not being watched."
"Darn it."
"Star, what do you think?"
Star jumped and looked at the others. He had to admit, he was only half-following the conversation… something about food?
"Rice cards," Moray said. He didn't know what those were.
"They're like rice cakes," Mooch cheeped. "But in the shape of cards and stamped with our symbols."
He glanced back in the direction of the Mail Whale, who was very much not visible now, then at the posse and pointed upwards.
"c l o v er?" he scraped out. Talking was still hard, but he could do it. Besides, the sound of his broken voice reminded him of the robots back h… in the Steamworks.
"Of course, Clover will be added to the cards," Ace assured him. "Besides, the harvest won't be ready for a while. They'll be back in time."
Star hummed.
Ace stared at him for an uncomfortably long time.
"… Ed?"
"Yeah?"
"Grab the fabric swatches and the home sewing tape."
"You got it."
"Ooh, group tailoring session!"
Snip. Snip. Snip.
Bit by bit, the green strands fell away, the flowers dropped to the ground, the stems cleaved from their roots.
Starlo felt blind without them.
But, it made Ceroba feel better when he wasn't made up of a wild garden, so he allowed her to trim him down and just decided to enjoy the fact that thorns weren't pinching at every bit of him now. Plus, his holster was finally free, even if the iron inside was unusable.
He watched more and more plants land beside him, now unable to cover his eyes since his friend had cut the cluster on his face so short. He felt her move up to his hat, and… hesitate.
His silent plea for her not to cut the flower there was answered. She moved away. That was from Guardener, a final reminder of his first home.
Yellow liquid dripped to the floor, and was reabsorbed.
… speaking of his first home. He needed to go back at some point. He'd tried, a few times, but he was always stopped.
Her hand lightly brushed his tail and he jolted, hissing at her.
"I'm sorry, nightlight," she murmured. "I just wanted to free it up a little. That can't be comfortable…"
His hissing quieted. Nightlight. The name she'd only called him once before. It was special, in a way. He settled down and let her keep cutting. She really was being so careful, so nerve-wrackingly precise so she didn't cut his skin.
He felt the pressure on his tail lighten up and repressed a shiver. That had been so constant that it felt wrong to not have it there. But still his friend snipped away, tugging plant life from where it had nestled, snug and thorny, until he could feel blood flowing back into it and the crookedness straighten out just a little.
Ceroba sighed. "There we go." Her hand lingered close to the end of it. He could feel the distance like flower petals.
She moved away.
Starlo sighed. What was left of the vines on his face closed over his eyes.
He felt blind.
Clover was gone, and he couldn't sleep.
He'd learned where they'd gone by nap time. Snowdin, to spend time with Dalv and someone named Martlet.
Something about this felt wrong.
… everything about this felt wrong.
A couch. People breathing. Silence outside. None of this was right, anymore. The ambient noise he was used to wasn't snoring and shuffling, it was whirring and mechanical conversation. It was a bed of white flowers that he rooted with, in soil provided specially by Guardener. It was growing across the Steamworks, messing something up, and hearing Axis or someone else rage about it as he shut down to rest for a while.
It was not what he had, no matter how homely it might feel.
He could not write - his hands had never been as stable as they were that first day outside - and the Feisty Five had no screens that he could leave a message on. But it wasn't like he was going to be gone forever. Just a quick visit back home.
Besides, any time he was here with Clover in the same room, he could never bring himself to just get up and go. If he did move, it was to stand over their bed and power down there.
Someone's screaming had jerked him awake one day. It was wet, and red, and he was staring at an unrecognizable pile. Shreds of brown. Stained yellow fabric.
And a feeling of being full.
But the nightmares were always worse when he let that happen.
Very carefully, he eased the front door open and shut, feeling the light of the Swelterstone wash over him. Starlo knelt down and slid his hand beneath the porch. A hint of magic from Guardener, and…
A sunflower. Perfect.
He plucked it out, stood back up, and crept back into the house to leave it on Ceroba's nightstand. Right now, she slept where Clover usually did, so it almost felt like he was leaving it for both of them.
The door closed, and he was gone.
So, turns out he wasn't quite as seamlessly gone as he'd hoped to be.
The corn family was working at the moment. He had no idea what happened, but somehow he was now working with them.
Oh well. At least his friends wouldn't freak out over his disappearance, at most he'd get a scolding over skipping nap time.
… again.
A little body on his chest, solid and sleeping, being grown through to be kept.
His eye did not close. He laid there and watched their face twist with pain, until it was as unrecognizable as his.
A little body on his chest, solid and limp, hidden beneath his poncho. Everyone else looking for them. His friend's ears flattening as she realizes what happened.
His left eye did not close.
He shivered out of the memory of the nightmare and picked a corn dog. They really needed to find the root of these parasites. He left a bright blue mark where he'd found it.
North Star was shivering. North Star was jerky, and twitchy, and moving like his joints had to be forced.
North Star was exhausted.
The Feisty Four knew all his tells by now. A lack of sleep meant a lack of control over his movements, and god damn if they hadn't noticed him ditching nap time for whatever else.
First line of defense was Ceroba.
The plan typically was, she'd wait for just before nap time, then act extremely tired and like she needed to sleep early. Then, once Star noticed, she'd pretend she couldn't get to sleep on her own and ask him to accompany her to the house. Once there, they would end up sleeping on the bed (in Ceroba's case) or by the bed (in Star's case).
This did not work this time around.
Ceroba had played her part perfectly. North Star called Ed over to carry her home. And, well, they had to play along.
The second line of defense, then, was Mooch.
She'd use her small size to her advantage, crawl all over him, and eventually settle down in his lap to fake sleep. North Star knew the importance of sleeping in a proper place, so usually he'd pick her up and bring her home, at which point she'd mumble a request for a song, which would typically get him tired enough to sleep himself.
He stayed there this time, sat firmly in the Saloon, petting her with choppy movements while looking like he was about to fall over into his root beer.
So, when that didn't work, third line of defense was Moray.
They essentially did the same thing as Ceroba, but while polishing their sword, so the danger of being stabbed was there. This one worked, because North Star did not want to see his friends impaling themselves. He finally walked Moray home, carrying Mooch like he'd forgotten she was there in the first place.
Unfortunately, by the time he tucked her in, she had actually fallen asleep. Moray wasn't sure he could manage a tune, anyway.
With a "have a good nap, Star," and a zip of their sleeping bad, Moray was out. This left only Ace unaccounted for, as Ceroba was sound asleep as a bed lump and Ed was snoozing away in his hole.
North Star immediately decided he did not need a nap and began stumbling towards the door.
That left the fourth, and currently second-to-last defense: the cardsmith himself.
As Star opened the door, he was greeted by none other than a giant 5 of spades bullet.
When Ace made himself known from the other side of the house, the reaction was slightly more violent than anticipated. But he was able to put the obvious into blunter words than the rest could've managed towards their own Sheriff.
For a long minute, Star seemed like he was considering the logic Ace had laid out, head cracking as he turned it unevenly from side to side like a bird.
Then he turned back and started to leave again.
Welp. Line 5.
The man filled with plants was suddenly scooped up and brought to the bed.
Ed mumbled a "sorry, 'Roba," as he dropped North Star gently on the mattress next to the bed lump. Before the Sheriff knew what was happening, his hat and boots were gone, placed neatly next to the bed alongside Ceroba's accessories. Then the woman herself lifted a blanket-covered arm and yanked Starlo down, promptly putting half her body on top of his.
It was official. He was trapped.
Ed laughed softly and patted Star's shoulder before retreating.
"G'night, Sheriff." Starlo did not have the energy to respond. With a shaky sigh and jerking hands, he put his arms around his friend, and was out like a light.
Chapter 10
Summary:
I meant to put this out yesterday but I got distracted with my Aborted Geno shot hsjdfhskdhf
which is, longer than this, by a couple hundred words,
whoops
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Star jerked his head, and instantly felt the wooziness come back. It was getting worse. That probably wasn't good.
Orion was already over to look at the blue corn he'd found, though, so he stayed steady on his feet to hear the verdict. No use concerning the family. This had only been happening for an hour or so, after all. Last time, it persisted for a lot longer. So until it hit three hours, he wouldn't worry about it.
It hit three hours. And it was only getting worse.
Laying beneath the running water spout hadn't helped. Eating something hadn't helped. His friends hadn't helped.
… well, physically, his friends hadn't helped. Emotionally, he felt much better when they were there.
All of them had noticed his dazed state by now. He didn't have anywhere near his usual amount of energy, and he kept pressing his rays back like that would stop the hollow, clattering feeling they continued to have. His vines moved too much, against his will. It made the headache worse.
Something was burrowing through his head.
Well, not something, he knew exactly what was burrowing through his head. Didn't make it suck any less, though.
More plants. More roots growing in him. More hours of lightheadedness and losing awareness.
He barely made it through Cowboy Grammar Class. Which ended early, anyway, because he couldn't say a word.
Starlo ended up going to the Saloon, despite his headache, to find Ceroba. She was not there, but at least Dina gave him a water, so the worsening vertigo wasn't for nothing.
His friend ended up being in the stable, playing a casual game of Six-Shooter. He walked in without hesitation and sat right next to her.
She did not seem to mind this at all. In fact, all she did was put her arm around him, and then continue with her game.
He tried to follow it without chiming in, but not talking was easy. As time passed, paying attention was… less so. Before he knew it, he wasn't seeing anything at all, despite his eyes still being open. It hurt too much to register anything else.
Normally, Star's eyes were sharp on a game. Even just the ones that went on in the corners of the Saloon. But every time Ceroba looked down, they looked less and less focused. More and more clouded, with a spark of pain she couldn't miss if she was blind.
It was only six more games (all of which she won) before she nudged his shoulder.
"Star." He didn't respond. "We're going home now, Star." This time, he shifted a little. Ceroba stood up and pulled him with her, noting that he was oddly sticky, even for his new state. He was stable enough to stay with her, though.
With a quick goodbye to the gamekeeper, the two left the barn, Star resting his chin on her shoulder and breathing softly. The fact that he was breathing at all reassured her, no matter how shaky it was.
Sometimes, he didn't. She could strain her ears to their limit, but nothing but the rustling of those forsaken vines would reach them.
They reached the Feisty Flat with no trouble. Although, Ceroba would need a shower later, with how much Starlo had melted into her fur. His breath rattled in his chest, and even if he wasn't relying on her to stay upright, that would be all the incentive she needed to sit him down until he was better.
He allowed himself to be lowered onto the couch, even if he didn't let go of her hand. She'd been intending to get him some water, but, without thinking, she sat down next to him. His eyes weren't open. He didn't even bother to take off his boots before curling up into a slightly amorphous ball, which did not bode well.
"Will you be alright?" she whispered. The vines all trembled briefly. "Hm. What hurts?"
This time, the cluster on his head rustled together. They wrapped around his rays, which flickered in response. And he started groaning.
The hand she was holding suddenly slipped out of her grasp. It was simply too runny to stay, like egg whites. Ceroba tried anyway, gasping in shock. He always held onto her. He always kept her close when he could. Ever since he changed…
But this time, Starlo drew his hand in and buried himself in his poncho, equally melty and messy as he was. She touched him, and for a brief moment, he looked at her. One bright blue eye saw her,
and then he clutched his head and started screaming.
The vines went wild. Ceroba flinched back as one lashed at her. They tangled Star up worse than he had been before, bright green tendrils whipping him just as violently, bursting outwards from the hole in his head with thorns the color of Clover's blood.
She froze. She didn't know what else to do, for a second. Star was suffering, her best friend was suffering, and she could do nothing about the parasites causing it.
Was this what happened the first time?
But she steeled herself, reached forward, and pulled him close.
"You're going to be okay," she said, hoping it would be true if she said it. "Stay with me, Star, stay strong-" She winced as thorns clawed through her fur. But she would not let go. Not again.
Starlo did not stop screaming. Likewise, Ceroba did not stop talking to him. She alikened it to a nightmare, in her head. Something he would wake up from. Maybe he'd be pale and sweaty, but he'd be awake. Even as the pressure on her chest turned painful, even as the vines tore both her and Starlo up, she did not let go. She would not leave him alone.
In time, his cries began to quiet. His hands became solid enough to hold her, though there were new growths of corn leaves in his wrists and flowers in his joints. His body became stable again, tangled in red thorns and even more overgrown than before, but he was there.
"Starlo…?" She wheezed. "Is it over?"
Starlo did not respond. He dug his fingers into her kimono. She felt something… growing… growing through her chest-
She pushed him by the shoulders. A sharp gasp tore itself from her, like the vines retreating back to his head. For a moment, she had to just stay there, staring at the silent effigy of her friend. Her own breathing was the only sound in the room.
"Star." She swallowed. "Star, are you okay? Please tell me you're okay."
He stared back at her, eyeless, for a little longer. Then, the vines around his jaw twisted apart, then together, then he breathed. And he made a sound.
It wasn't any word she recognized. It was something a kitten could say.
"uaar- en- rrr…"
She didn't know what that meant. But, very carefully, she pressed a hand to his cheek and gently rubbed the thorns.
"Can you look at me?" she asked. Maybe, if he saw her, he could recover a little faster.
The vines over his right eye parted, pulling scales with them. The bright blue was a little duller, a little foggier, and for a long minute he didn't seem to recognize her. The fog cleared, though, as it always did, and he put his own hand over hers.
"ro… ba…"
She smiled, despite the tears. "Yeah. You're home, Starlo. You're okay."
He reached forward and pulled her close, letting her hide her face in his poncho. He was breathing again. Star was breathing, and alive, and okay. Her best friend was okay.
"… you know? I think we need to get your glasses back."
His glasses did not fit him any longer. They did work, though. Ceroba was just glad his backup pair was still in his room.
Starlo decided to tuck them into a pocket in his poncho. Since the vines meant he couldn't wear them normally, he would save them for when he needed them more. It was insane to see things that clearly, though. And he could already hit a dummy in the eye from across the shooting range!
His friend said they also "made him look like a good boy," which he was very happy about even if the intention behind it was confusing.
Maybe he should wear them like a prop more often.
Notes:
That last bit is based off of this post lol
Chapter Text
It was a beautiful day in the Wild East. The Swelterstone was shining, the tumbleweeds were tumbling, and the sound of metal clanged across the dunes.
… wait, what was that last part?
Maybe it was just that North Star had roots across the town by now, but he seemed to pick up on it sooner than anyone else. It unnerved him.
Ace got just as nervous as the steps got closer. Which, at least, assured him that he wasn't going crazy. Both of them ended up going to Clover at the same time.
"Clover, you need to hide," Ace said as soon as they were in earshot. The little human looked between them, confused, for a second.
"… Again?" The cardsmith nodded.
"She's coming back."
"But she already…" Clover grumbled under their breath and kicked up some sand. "Fineee. Where should I hide this time? Think Blackjack'd take me?"
North Star raised a hand, resolutely ignoring their flinch as he did so, and pointed northeast.
"f ar m," he forced out. Using his voice would be essential, so he better start now. "th e c e ll ar." Ace thought for a moment, then nodded.
"Yes, go to Star's parents. They know their way around these visits."
The deputy breathed in, breathed out, and started out of town. They patted Star on the arm as they passed.
"Don't do anything stupid," they said with a knowing smile. He winked and made a finger gun.
And then they started running. And then they were gone.
Star had the inexplicable urge to follow them. But the footsteps were getting closer.
Ace turned to him. "Go find Ceroba. If the Captain arrives before you come back, I will stall her." Those words had him feeling a type of fear he'd never known before. He turned and fled into the diner, where his friend was sure to be at this time.
He got half a dozen greetings as he burst inside, none of which he paid back as he beelined for the fox across the room.
She took one look at him and stood, leaving her water on the counter. "What is it?"
He tried to say what Ace had said - The Captain is coming - but all that came out were sharp, cracking noises. She put a hand on his shoulder.
"Breathe, Starlo. What happened?"
He took a breath. All he had to say was the one word, and she would understand. Bit by bit, it crawled from his vines. Bit by bit, her grip tightened.
They left the Saloon together, feigning calm, and saw a woman clad in pure steel armor jogging towards the town entrance.
Ace was already talking, putting everything into the performance he had to put on. This was a town of showmanship. But this woman knew that already.
Blue scales. Red hair. One missing eye.
The Captain of the Royal Guard.
Undyne.
Starlo hunched behind Ceroba and hid his face. Not because he was scared - although, he was, just for Clover instead of of her - but because a dramatic reveal would hit her all the harder.
The vines had broken him in a way he couldn't comprehend, having no memory of what he used to be. It scared his family, caused Dalv to faint, terrified Clover, set every Wild East resident on edge, and baffled the robots of the Steamworks when he first woke up.
He hated that. But it was for that reason that he knew he could use it to his advantage.
Ceroba glanced at him. He took her hand and nodded.
"Captain Undyne!" She called. The woman looked up.
"Ketsukane," she practically yelled. Starlo narrowed his eyes, barely able to keep from rattling. That name… "Got word that your Sheriff's been MISSING for a month."
Ceroba tightened her grip again. "I know how you feel about this place, ma'am. But trust me when I say that everything is fine here."
"Really?" Undyne said, in a tone that very much implied she did not believe a word out of Ceroba's mouth. "Because those human sightings around here haven't stopped, you know. Same thing every time. A cowboy hat, brown hair, yellow eyes…" She glared at the fox. "A gun on their hip."
"Well, I'm sorry to say, again, that those reports are either lies or actors. Because I haven't seen any human around here who fits that description." She glared right back. "I would know."
It never failed to amaze Starlo just how well his friend could fight. Here she was, barring her teeth at the Captain of the Royal Guard, however faintly they were seen. Even Ace was more than happy to step aside and let her take charge of the conversation.
Undyne could be just as willing to fight back, but Starlo knew she would lose.
"So what about that Sheriff, then? North Star?"
"Oh, we found him." Ceroba smiled, pouring honey through her tone. "Didn't you know?"
North Star took his cue and stepped out from behind her, allowing the Captain to get her first good look at his overgrown, dripping, torn-up self.
She recoiled.
"WOAH!! What- ahem- How did he-? Is he… okay?"
The fox grit her teeth. She kept smiling. "Perfectly fine, actually. In fact, he's been relearning how to speak. North Star?"
He tipped his hat and greeted the Captain with the scratchiest, most barely-comprehensible "howdy" he could make. He would swear her scales went white.
Then she clenched her fists. "Son of a… that HUMAN caused this somehow, didn't they!? I know they can learn magic! Where are they!?"
"Do you honestly think a human could cause this?" Ceroba's smile twitched and almost dropped. She stepped forward, gesturing at him. "This kind of transformative magic takes years to master. No human has ever survived down here for more than a few months."
"Well. no MONSTER would ever do something like this to their own kind! It's cruel! And I can't believe you're still trying to protect them!" The vines mimicking an expression over his left eye slithered away. At the edge of his vision, he saw Ace sneaking away, probably to go get the rest of the Four. If this escalated, they would need the backup. "It's WAY past time they give up their SOUL to Asgore. In the name of everyone's hopes and dreams, I COMMAND you to give them to me!"
Ceroba's other hand twitched. Magic shimmered in a line beneath her palm. "I cannot just produce something that does not exist. Forgive me, but you are being irrational."
"HA! Nice try." Undyne summoned a spear for show and pointed it at them. "I've gathered enough evidence that you can't lie to me anymore. You know Lower Snowdin?"
Ceroba's eyes widened. "No," she whispered. "She didn't…"
"The only end that human is finding is the one on my spear. Now GIVE UP!" The Captain's face darkened. "And maybe I won't mark you as traitors."
Unbidden by North Star, both eyes were now uncovered and sharp on the Captain. By Starlo, though? By Sheriff?
They bored into her with the predatory gaze of a scorpion, just waiting to strike.
In my way. She's in my way. She's trying to ruin my plan.
A familiar, annoying voice echoed in his head.
He let go of Ceroba's hand
and stood
up
straight.
Undyne instantly dropped into a battle stance. Before, he'd apparently been just a little taller than Ceroba. Now?
He towered over both of them.
He raised his left hand, pointed at the Captain, ignored Ceroba's hand on his shoulder, and spoke with a clarity he hadn't even thought he was capable of.
"The human is mine to kill."
His friend hissed his name. Her hand wasn't on his shoulder anymore. The captain glared at him.
"Is that a threat? You know I can't let something like that slide!"
In response, he fired.
The laser bullet did not hit. Of course it didn't, he'd been aiming off to the side. Regardless, she jumped out of the way, spear ready to block. His friend jolted.
"Starlo-!"
"YOU-!"
He was on the other side of the bell tower when the spears started flying. Destroying it a second time would be downright rude. In a flash, he was right next to her, already using the proximity to hone in on the weak spots he'd tagged minutes ago. From afar, his sight was blurry, but up close, he could estimate the pollen stalks on a flower.
It wasn't perfect. But it was enough.
A vine jammed into a gap in her armor. He was sure it was not enough to hurt her, just to stun her. For a split second, a diamond flashed around the captain's body, freezing her in place, and he took the opportunity.
Just restraint. Nothing else. Just restraint, until she left his town.
"————sStop!" He looked at the fox woman. He hadn't heard the first part of her shout, but she looked terrible. She opened her mouth again, but-
There was a spear through his chest.
The white aura had worn off. The captain was blue again. Four sets of footsteps arrived, just in time to see the Sheriff fall to his knees.
He couldn't hear for a minute. His hands dripped and melded around the handle sticking out of him. He was… numb.
The first thing that came back to him, when the spear faded, was heavy breathing, hands on his back, and the captain's voice.
"I'm sorry!" If he'd been able to discern tone, he would've known how distraught she was. "I… I CAN'T let you keep a human from us! And I can't let you go around attacking people."
Someone else spoke up in his defense. It was a voice he could feel down to his roots, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out who it was, or what they were saying.
This is new! This is FUN!
He flicked his eyes up, moving ever so slightly to see her face. Her hands were clenched by her sides. The bravado was slipping.
He attacked first. It was self-defense. Why did he do that?
Anyone can kill if pushed too far.
Anyone can kill.
The hole in his chest was filling back up.
Hunt her down. Tear her to shreds! Make her PAY!
It wasn't like he could disagree when the little annoying voice was most of what he knew. Maybe she did deserve a little Justice.
The monster began to rattle. His tail started to skip across the sand. Deep in his throat, something boiled.
He raised his hands and slammed them into the ground. The sand exploded with sudden growth. The captain stumbled.
Or she would have, if her feet were free to do so.
He shrieked with the rest. The sound of anger mixed with the sound of fear.
SPEAR HER THROUGH!! DO IT! DO IT!!!
… no. Not anger.
Bloodlust.
The thorns tangled her up, winding and squeezing and crushing and-
"She's coming back."
"But she already…" Clover grumbled under their breath and kicked up some sand. "Fineee. Where should I hide this time? Think Star's parents would take me?"
Star looked at Ace and nodded. He nodded back.
"Yes, go to Star's parents. They know their way around these visits."
The deputy breathed in, breathed out, and started out of town. They patted Star on the arm as they passed.
Their hand lingered.
"… Don't do anything stupid," they said with a strange look. He hesitated, then nodded, putting his own hand on top of theirs.
And then they started running. And then they were gone.
Chapter 12
Summary:
Hiiiii sorry this took so long lol. Instead of finishing this chapter I spent the last 10 days writing a 4+1 fic with Orion, and a ficlet of Starlo dissociating in the middle of the 'night', and Anything But The Truth, and rereading other fanfics, and doing schoolwork, and,
yeah anyway chapter 12 is done now lol
Chapter 13 is in the works, but also I can feel the fixation on this fic fading so the time jumps might be a bit bigger than they have been so far.And, y'know, i'm running out of space in my notebook... again... this thing is 64 physical pages at last count
Chapter Text
North Star speedwalked to the Sunnyside Farm, tail twitching and rattling behind him.
So, negotiations hadn't gone great, and maybe he'd discreetly threatened Undyne by saying the human was his to kill, and maybe she was coming back next week to verify he'd actually done it, and oh Angel what was he gonna do-
Before he could spiral himself into a grave, he was standing in front of the corn cellar. He paid absolutely no attention to Orion, who was asking how the visit went, as he bent down to knock the code on the door.
Knock knock-knock t-t-t-tap knock
He had no idea how he knew that. But Clover pushed the door open from the inside, saw him, and instantly dived back in.
North Star winced, backing up. "ss or ry," he called. Of course he couldn't loom like that, he would be blocking the exit. And Clover still wanted to see someone else when they looked at him.
"Hey." Orion tapped his knuckles on North Star's shoulder. "What happened? The Captain doesn't come over often. Who slipped?"
"uh…" North Star cleared his throat. The sound was wetter than he thought it should be. "ss- no, d in." That was what she'd said. That was all she'd said. "Lower Snowdin." Orion raised an expectant eyebrow.
Clover chose that moment to peek out again. "But I jus' came from there." Both monsters turned to face them. "Y'don't think Mart…?"
"No," Orion said, shaking his head before they were done. "Her head may not be the most stable one in the Underground -" North Star glared at him. "- but she wouldn't mess up that bad."
The kid thought for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, she don't break promises that easy… Maybe the residents said something?"
"I just hope the Captain didn't run into Dalv." All three of them collectively grimaced. The vampire was an excellent friend, considering he'd been a hermit until recently, but he couldn't act to save his life.
Star blinked and started to say something, but he went too fast and his vines tangled together into nonsense. He took a breath, and tried again.
"does n t … he … s l ee p?" Elaboration would be tough, but needed, since the other two looked very confused. With stumbling words and a hint of annoyance at his own inability, he managed to get across a reminder that Dalv preferred to sleep when everyone else was awake, based on the Underground's clocks. If that was the case, then surely Undyne would have missed him.
Clover and Orion seemed to agree with this.
But that didn't change the fact that someone had snitched, and now the Royal Guard was very aware of Clover's presence.
When Captain Undyne arrived next week, there was a note for her nailed to the bell tower. The handwriting was neat, a dead ringer for the posters on the news board.
To the Captain of the Royal Guard:
If you come back before the hunt is done, know that as Sheriff of the Wild East, I am scouring every speck of sand in the Dunes for that blue-bellied bottom-feeder of a human. It won't last any longer than a pint of root beer in a game of poker, and its SOUL will be with the King faster than a snake catches a mouse.
Don't come looking I'll be real busy, so sorry if I miss you. If you really gotta follow, I've tailed the varment northwest of here. Pick up some ice water at Dina's first, though! Even I can't take the heat too long without some.
Undyne squinted at the letter, about a dozen questions running through her mind.
"… What the hell is wrong with being blue?"
That entire letter was a lie. That entire letter was also written by Ceroba.
… mostly because North Star couldn't write it himself, what with the state of his hands. He did have to stop her from being too brash with it, though.
But, either way, he was not hunting down Clover. They were not going northwest, either. They were headed northeast, past the Sunnyside Farm, to a place they'd both only been a few times before.
A place that held too many memories for both of them.
North Star had punched the code into the keypad a day before Undyne's visit and dramatically gestured for Clover to step through the door. They had laughed and obeyed. The human strayed deeper while the Sheriff paused just beyond the threshold, turned back, and placed a hand on the worn frame.
White vines grew to the place he'd touched. They wove together into a little box, just on the outside of the building, with a bright blue flower smack in the middle. A bit of magic, and he left, letting the door slam shut behind him.
For the next several minutes, he led Clover by the hand through the Steamworks, through the place he'd lived in for a month, through the home he'd grown desperate to return to. All the robots knew him. All the robots greeted him, and he greeted them in turn.
Halfway through, they ran into Axis.
"AXIS MODEL 014 READY TO GUARD AND PROTECT." He resisted a laugh at the announcement. Clover gasped, delighted.
"Axis!!"
The guard-bot took a brief moment to scan both of them. "HATTED HUMAN. SHERIFF MODEL 01. WE WERE BEGINNING TO HOPE YOU WOULD NEVER RETURN."
The Sheriff put his free hand on his hip and made a disbelieving noise. Really, Axis? How could you hate this classy mug?
Clover was giving him an odd look. He ignored it.
"FINE. I WAS HOPING YOU'D NEVER RETURN." Axis stared, unimpressed at his snicker. "GUARDENER, ON THE OTHER HAND."
The snickering stopped immediately. He squeezed Clover's hand, just a smidge. Guardener. Wait, was she even still awake? Had she gone back into hibernation after he left? Would she wake up for him again?
"How's you 'n Daisy?" The little human asked, breaking him out of the blank stare he'd fallen into. Axis himself looked a kind of overjoyed he only ever was when talking about his spouse.
"WE ARE AMAZING. THEY ARE THE BEST THING TO HAPPEN TO THIS PLACE. OUR WEDDING SHALL BE AT THE GENERATOR."
"Y'haven't had it yet?" Clover exclaimed. In all honesty, the Sheriff was just as surprised. He'd been talking it up for as long as he'd known him.
"WE WERE WAITING FOR YOU AND TALL LADY TO BE ABLE TO ATTEND."
He intended to correct Axis on her name, but his deputy continued before he could. "Aww- You coulda told her when she came to pick up Star!"
"SHE WAS VERY UPSET BACK THEN. IT WOULD NOT HAVE BEEN A SUITABLE TIME." Clover hummed, and Star nodded. She had truly been inconsolable until he left the Steamworks with her, hand in hand.
… he couldn't remember that day very well.
"THE BOTANICAL DIVISION HAS BEEN ALERTED TO YOUR PRESENCE. THEY WISH TO SEE YOU, SHERIFF." He jerked upright and started running. Axis got a quick pat on the shoulder as he passed. "DO NOT HIT ME."
Sheriff didn't realize he was still dragging his deputy along with him until they were almost at the Greenhouse, and Clover's foot caught on one of many trailing vines, and both of them were forced to a stop.
When he looked back, there were corn stalks and red thorns in Clover's arm. He decided right then that Guardener could wait. The kid needed help first.
The plants were unwound, scratches were healed with a Feisty Slider, and Sheriff took a minute to sit and apologize for all that. While they rested, he cleared away the overgrowth to the railings instead of the floor. This was familiar. This was right.
In almost no time at all, Clover stood back up, stretched, and let him escort them into the Greenhouse.
It was several days until the Steamworks saw outside activity again.
With the lack of monsters and a sleep schedule inside it, though, that time was thought to be far less than it actually was. Inside, the only monster and human present helped to tend the garden, to repair machinery, to make it feel like home.
Guardener had woken up for the Sheriff, as he'd hoped. She'd taken one look at the poorly-pruned remnants of vines that had regrown and killed their predecessors, and the sound of her asking "what have they done to you?" made him realize that he should have stopped it.
Ceroba didn't know the first thing about weeding.
Regardless, the robot allowed them refuge in her space. She didn't even need an explanation. They were both authorized, and therefore they were both welcome.
The Sheriff hadn't realized how much was out there until he was back inside. So many people, places, things- when he lived in the Steamworks, he tended just to stick to the Greenhouse. A fair share of exploring had been done, of course, but ultimately the Greenhouse was home, and big enough for all to have their own rooms.
He'd gotten used to the not-quite-quiet, then the noise, and now he was again content to lie in the mulch while the Lil Bots watched his deputy for a time.
The flower he'd left outside pinged him one day.
The way that magic worked - and Guardener was very proud when he told her he'd been able to do with - was that it was loose between the petals, and would return to him when another monster touched it. The return would let him know someone was at the door. It was like a doorbell! Guardener had dozens of them all set up around the Greenhouse.
So when he felt the quiet rush of magic in his vines, he let her and Axis know instantly. As instantly as he could when he was to get to a screen first, anyway.
The robots had been working on ways for him to talk to them since it became clear that his actual voice was mostly defunct. Apparently, that had continued while he was gone. It was easier than finding hay in a needle-stack to work the controls.
(… was that how the saying went? He wasn't sure. Maybe it was the other way around.)
Sheriff made sure to keep Clover near while Axis went to answer whoever was trying to get in. But they wanted to see what was happening, so now he was carrying them on his shoulders on the way to the entrance.
"C'mon, giddyup!" Clover yelled, trying to buck him forward. He laughed, and obliged, and for a moment they were just two cowfolk speeding through the Steamworks.
But all things must end. They reached the generator, and he couldn't put them down, they squirmed and fought but vines were endless in their clinging and blood was running down his lifted them off of him and dropped them gently on the ground. The little human stumbled a few steps, then rushed over to where Axis was yelling at the door.
"I KEEP TELLING YOU, HE WILL COME WHEN HE WANTS TO. I CANNOT JUST GO GET HIM- OH. HELLO, HATTED HUMAN." The guard-bot looked over at Clover. "PLEASE TALK SOME SENSE INTO YOUR TALL LADY AND HER ENTOURAGE."
"Clover!?" A woman yelled through the door. Sheriff noticed that it was open, though just barely. Clover knocked a few times on the metal.
While they were busy calming down the visitors, he tapped on Axis's shoulder.
"GREETINGS, SHERIFF MODEL 01. ARE YOU HERE TO BREAK THE DOORS FOR THE TALL LADY AND HER ENTOURAGE?"
He snickered and shook his head "no", pointing at Clover. "th ey, w an t e d…"
"ALRIGHT, STOP. WE NEED TO FINISH THOSE BUTTONS FOR YOU…" Sheriff sighed, resting his head on Axis's lightbulb. "HEY. GET OFF THERE." He purposely let his hand fall over one of his eyes. "HEY- I CAN'T SEE-"
So Ceroba and the Feisty Four had almost broken down the door when he didn't answer it fast enough. Which, wow, overreaction much? And also, it takes time to travel across the entire building, which Sheriff and Axis very promptly explained to the five people standing awkwardly outside.
He hadn't remembered who they were until halfway through that scolding. It ate at him. He just tried to be happy that he knew at all.
The Captain of the Royal Guard had come back twice more since he and Clover left the Dunes, not counting the time she found his letter. The amount of time he was taking was annoying her, but she'd finally been convinced to leave well enough alone. They could come home.
Sheriff found that the idea of "home" did not make him very happy.
He prepared nonetheless, and did not stall with the excuse of grabbing something from the Greenhouse, because he did need to grab something. It just didn't exist yet.
Axis followed along, saying he'd ensure Sheriff's safe return. It wasn't long before the two were completely alone. The guard-bot lowered his volume.
"HEY." Sheriff looked down at him. "WILL YOU CONTROL YOURSELF OUT THERE?" He nodded without thinking. "HAVE THE FAILSAFES BEEN WORKING?" He started to nod again.
Then hesitated.
…
Sheriff looked away.
"IT HAPPENED AGAIN." Axis whispered. It was a statement, not a question.
Sheriff nodded.
"WHEN?"
Sheriff touched his shoulder. He could almost feel the red dampness from his movies there.
"BUT YOU WERE… JUST A FEW MINUTES AGO?"
He nodded again.
Axis was quiet for a minute. Sheriff waited for new failsafes to make themselves known. It was a toss-up if they actually worked or not.
But it was better than letting Clover die.
Sheriff came back alone, a second white flower in his hat and damp vines cleaned up. He'd been able to say goodbye this time. He'd promised to come back sooner.
But for now, he was going back to the desert, to the corn field, to friends he didn't understand but loved anyway.
… He should make Clover a disguise.
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