Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Wh…what? Can’t be soulless for five minutes without keeling over dead!? Skill issue!” Flowey huffed and heaved, dragging Clover’s near-lifeless body through the dusk alleys of New Home.

“F-Flowey..?” the cowpoke roused from the edge of eternal sleep, head lolling against their shoulder to look at their gold-petaled friend.

“Just… hang on, won’t you?” Flowey adjusted his vines around them- a harness was effectively the best he could do, but he didn’t want to cause any more discomfort than necessary. He ducked near a flower-filled window box, and peered out at the kitsune monster walking toward the castle, grievously clutching her prize.

Nearly there.

“You’re such an idiot, throwing your life away on a whim. You know that, right?” Flowey pushed Clover’s unkempt bangs from their face, scanning their eyes for signs of lucidity.

“Everyone’ll… be free,” Clover swallowed dryly and exhaled a small cough. “You too… Wanna help. Be… useful.”

“I mean, yeah, I need you for THIS plan, but it’s not like you have to be useful to have the right to exist,” Flowey pulled them closer to where Ceroba stood in the shadows, waiting as a group of young monsters passed by before discretely hauling the human freaking soul up the stairs. “I mean, look at Dunebud. Totally useless heap of sand, but you don’t see them martyring themself, do ya?”

He figured it out as soon as Clover collapsed at the fox lady’s departure. If Flowey could keep them in proximity with that container, they wouldn’t snuff out like a wet candle.

It’s not like the guards would check for the body, either. Not knowing a thing about humans, they’d assume the corpse faded to dust as a monster’s would. Heck, even Clover’s friends left them slumped on the rooftop with the same assumption. Asgore would know, but by the time Flowey was done it’d be too late for the king to find any trace of the Underground’s favorite deputy.

So long as the king ‘got another soul’, everyone would be happy.

“And even if there’s no one waiting for you on the surface- yes, I know all about your sad little backstory- so many monsters got attached to you on your journey here.” Clover didn’t respond, so Flowey shook them by their shoulders. Not the best with bedside manners, but it wasn’t like Clover’s lifeless husk was gonna drag itself through the back alleys.

It roused them enough to respond weakly. “Thank… you…” they blinked hard, hair rustling in the Underground wind without their hat. “Good… friend.”

It’s not like Flowey could feel the sentiment behind the words, but he understood their meaning. For a moment, far-off memories stirred in his petals, and he saw his first friend grasping his hand as they choked on buttercups. His cynical friend that spent everyday with a crybaby as naive as he was. Now Flowey was the cynical one.

…They would’ve loved to meet Clover.

But projecting his sibling onto each and every human that fell down wasn’t going to bring them back. The best Flowey could do- the best Asriel could do, was save the ones he could.

How’d it come to this? Flowey grumbled, knowing  the answer. Because with most absurdly heroic plans these days- it was entirely Frisk’s damn fault!

~~~~*

Asriel took a moment stare at his open palm, giving it an out-of-practice flex. He was himself, yet as he placed his hand to his chest he felt the flutter of many, many souls beating within his regained heart. It was a form he couldn’t keep. He turned back to Frisk, putting on a smile… No, he wasn’t putting it on anymore. He really was truly happy, but…

Frisk remained blank-faced as ever. He wanted to tell them how much every one of the souls within him loved them. After being numb to it for so long, how could he not? This feeling was enough to carry him for another 999 years! And maybe it was that newfound awe for the forgotten sensation that made Frisk’s reaction seem disinterested and dull by comparison.

“Even though they barely know you, it feels like they all really love you. Monsters are weird…” Asriel trailed off, and noted Frisk gazing absent-mindedly into the void. That’s what caused Asriel to falter. He let the silence linger as he contemplated their lack of interest. There! They clearly stifled a yawn! It’s not that they were trying to be impolite, but the fact that they weren’t listening to him was so blatant it was almost comical. Not that this was a first for them.

Frisk had shown little interest in the Ruins, Waterfall, Hotland… Call Asriel crazy, but after he attacked their friends, ‘became god’, and turned back into a child- he’d think Frisk should be showing a little more bewilderment. (How could anyone be so nonchalant after witnessing the God of Hyperdeath?!)

Asriel spoke carefully, feeling a tug of disappointment somewhere in his collage of souls. “We’ve done this already. Haven’t we?”

Frisk snapped back to face him, and Asriel recognized the regained interest of a new conversation. Something he recognized from his old self.

“Yes,” they replied in a voice so small, Asriel always strained to hear it. Frisk wasn’t one to speak much without being prompted.

“Then what is it you’re looking for?” Asriel furrowed his brow. Here was that rare sense of unease that came with Frisk being in control instead of him. That rare excitement. But if Frisk was just looking for ‘something new’ like Flowey was…

“Everyone’s free,” Asriel emphasized as if he were scolding a younger sibling. “The barrier’s finally broken. What’s left to find? Even if you forgot some errand, things don’t have to be perfect. That’s how life’s supposed to be… This is enough.”

Frisk shook their messy head of curls. “Not everyone who could‘ve been saved, was saved.” They squinted at Asriel, seemingly understanding the reason for his displeased expression. “If it helps this was actually YOUR idea.”

And it did help. Or at least it would’ve if Asriel had any memory of such an idea. But perhaps it shouldn’t be too surprising. Keeping memories of events yet to come and then resetting… That would mean regaining this body only to have it ripped away again. Over and over and over. It’d be hell. He could see himself asking Frisk to erase his memory if it ever came to that.

“After turning back into Flowey, you came to the surface with me. O-Only a few days though! We agreed it’d be better to reset sooner than later,” Frisk added quickly to assure Asriel they hadn’t been frivolous with their resets. “It happened after Mom- Toriel that is- went to return the bodies of the fallen children to the surface. Most were from a corrupt orphanage, so there wasn’t much commotion from any living relatives. But that only broke her heart more. You had said if you could spare her even a little heartache after everything that happened… Well, that’s when you mentioned Clover.”

Asriel’s ears perked.

Clover.

Now that was a name he hadn’t heard in a while. The only one of the six souls that Flowey had encountered in the Underground. And, Asriel noted with a grimace, the person he’d spent the most resets with as Flowey.

It wasn’t that he had spent more time killing them than he had everyone else- just the opposite! Clover’s death was all but guaranteed with every run. They were the first person Flowey had actually been more interested keeping alive than tormenting! And even when he did lose his temper on yet another ‘dead-end run’ and tried to absorb their soul- Clover surprised him. They dug the heels of their boots into his mind, and resisted total absorption. And after their battle ended and all was quiet in the void, he could almost feel… something.

For that reason, Flowey never overwrote that spare save file from when Clover first fell.

“You said you missed them,” Frisk hesitated.

Asriel startled from his reminiscing and stared at Frisk.

“As Flowey?”

“As Flowey,” Frisk nodded.

Wanting to atone and ease his mother’s pain was one thing, but for Flowey to admit something like that… Maybe it’d be worth doing all over again.

Frisk wrung their hands. “I know it’s a lot to ask. If this version of you doesn’t want to-“

“I’ll go,” Asriel interrupted before apprehension could take root. “My saves are the only way left to reach them now... I owe them that much.”

Feeling a stir at his chest, he once more placed his hand to his heart. Lulling amidst the sea of souls within Asriel, Clover was quiet. Barely even a blip. But as the monster’s love beat for Frisk, so too did it beat for Clover.

“I owe everyone that much.”

Again Frisk nodded, more determined and final. “When you get back to me, I’ll do the same pacifist run I did this time. You should be able to absorb their soul and return it back to them after the barrier is broken. Just like you did with the monster souls.”

“Huh?” Asriel smirked. “I don’t remember doing that.”

Frisk stuck their tongue out at Asriel, before giving him an intense look. “Don’t forget. Despite it all… you’re still you. You’ll still be Asriel, even if you feel lost.”

Asriel felt the corners of his mouth tug into a line, and solemnly loaded the save.

“You don’t have to worry about me, Frisk. I’ll… be okay.”

And everything they worked toward was gone.

~~~~*

Asriel groaned, lifting his head and shaking the dirt from his petals. He looked around at the Ruins walls. He had every brick, crack, and twig of the place memorized. He sprouted two leaves on either side of him and gave them a flex.

His arms were gone.

The first time he’d awakened like this he was in shambles, crying out endlessly. It was only after he’d completely given up hope that the king found him in the throne room. A broken, soul-less husk. Now he’s reawakened so many times it should be old hat. But staring at his leafy ‘hand’, without so much as a heart beat in his chest, and spitting the horrible taste of dirt from his mouth- the fresh loss of his body tore the old wounds wide open.

It won’t be for the last time, Flowey told himself. Frisk is counting on me to break the barrier again. THAT will be the last time I can be myself.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad afterward. Annoyingly, Frisk had spoiled his future for him. He imagined he’d condemn himself to a life of solitude in the Underground. Was living with everyone on the surface even possible for someone like him?

He sighed. Now wasn’t the time for self loathing. He had to prepare for Clover’s arrival. He had to decide what ‘route’ to guide them towards. A peaceful one, of course, to match the goal Frisk had in mind. But the question was how to hide Clover from the guard during the years it took for Frisk to fall.

If Flowey did nothing, Clover would remain in the Ruins with the queen. They’d be completely safe from the guard here- that wasn’t the issue. The issue was Clover themself. They were  faster at dodging than Frisk, but would launch themself into danger. Where Frisk would fall into a bed of flowers, Clover’s luck had them crashland into mineshaft rubble and robot scraps. And as for common sense? Flowey would never forget the time Clover looked him dead in the eye and downed a vial of acid.

So while there was no shortage of monsters willing to take Clover into their home and family, Clover would die. Every. Single. Run. Whether Flowey humored their dollhouse life or not. Staying  with Toriel would also throw off Frisk’s journey- possibly resulting in ANOTHER do-over for Flowey to trudge through. No. There would be a violence-free solution beyond the Ruins. Even if violence-free stuck them to one path, Flowey had an idea that just might work.

Flowey steeled his resolve, and entangled his vines into the Ruins switch puzzles until he heard something break. Satisfied, he burrowed deep into the Dark Ruins below. Now all he had to do was wait.

The queen would mourn, and he should probably feel bad about it. But he couldn’t. It’d be a mercifully brief encounter- leaving her and Clover as strangers. She would adopt Frisk later anyway…

That’s what the soul-less logic Flowey relied on said. He would have to keep in mind what was and wasn’t ‘acceptable’ by Frisk’s standards- instead of the kill-or-be-killed philosophy of his first human friend.

Not that Frisk always had spotless runs, themself.

Flowey used to enact cruelty out of curiosity too, relishing in the moments he could see a monster’s ’true self’ at their lowest point. But it wasn’t like it was any ‘truer’, just another face of a multi-faceted person. After acting in such a way for so long, it was hard for Flowey to accept this mindset.

Flowey was a part of him. Asriel was a part of him. And he had learned plenty from all his human companions. But really, Flowey should stop imitating his friends based on their flawed philosophies.

His thoughts were interrupted by a familiar THUD. Flowey straightened his stem and plastered a smile onto his face. After a short while, that same small figure dressed in cowboy garb shuffled through the darkness, gripping the wall for guidance. The figure paused just shy of the trickled-in light where Flowey waited. For a moment, Flowey thought of how funny it would be to have this be the run where Clover actually remembered him, but that was just a pipe dream.

“Howdy! I’m Flowey. Flowey the flower!” He recited. It wouldn’t do to parade around the underground doning the deceased prince’s name, after all. But before Flowey could continue his memorized lines, Clover surprised him.

Clover, who like Frisk wasn’t much for conversation, tipped their hat up so the light from Ruin’s topside illuminated their bright yet subtle smile, and spoke.

“Howdy, Flowey, nice to meet cha! Folks call me Clover.”

~~~~*

Things were the same after that, for the most part. They befriended Dalv, met up with Martlet… Same old same old. But every now and then, Clover would stop by Flowey’s save point to make small talk. They’d shown him a jewel they found, shared a bite of their Honeydew Resort pancakes, asked what kind of monster HE was… and Flowey wondered what he had done to get them so talkative. They didn’t seem to remember being fused with him to fight Frisk. Was this that ‘something’ he had felt trying to absorb their soul before?

He had never fully indulged the idea of absorbing them until Frisk came along. He could’ve taken the boss monster’s souls from his parents and crossed the barrier with Clover, but he wouldn’t have felt assured with just two or three souls. He could be killed for doing that again. It just… wouldn’t have felt right. And he learned the hard way that absorbed souls could rebel against him. Maybe that ‘something’ had less to do with absorption and more to do with Clover themself.

Pondering it all, Flowey took more action in aiding Clover this run. As cool as Clover may feel narrowly evading gales of a sandstorm nearly launching them off the cliff-side, Flowey thought it best to disable all road-side hazards. He didn’t want to fall out of his nice streak if he could help it. You have to be intentional about keeping your good habits.

But his meddling must’ve taken longer than he’d thought. Because sitting beneath the lone tree up ahead where Flowey would normally have had a save point ready, Clover sat waiting for him, blowing musically into a harmonica.

Flowey sidled up as to not disturb their playing and listened. Music used to be a comfort to him when he’d first become Flowey, at least until he’d memorized every song in the Underground to the point of nausea. But Clover wasn’t from the Underground. Flowey hadn’t even known they could play instruments. Their song was a happy one, but played at a slow relaxed tempo. Peaceful.

Clover opened one eye to sideglance at Flowey, and set the harmonica on their lap where they sat in the shaded sand. “Sneaking up on me?” they lightly jabbed.

“Where’d you get the harmonica?” Flowey dodged the question. No need to get sappy over a stupid song.

Clover averted their eyes and gave a quick shrug. “Found it.”

“Don’t just put things in your mouth!” Flowey snapped, grabbing the harmonica with a vine. It was habits like these that got them killed so often! “And what’s with the siesta? I know you’re not tired yet, so let’s get a move on!”

Still not looking at Flowey, Clover’s eyes trailed to the cavernous ceiling stretched overhead. “I just feel like… I’ve missed you.”

That…

That was definitely new.

Since Frisk, Flowey had accepted that as the years went on, everything and everyone Asriel had loved would be left behind, forgotten to time, like a ghost fading in the back of his mind. Gone, but just just barely determined enough to never fully erase. Growing up meant saying goodbye.

But reunions…?

“You just saw me a few rooms ago,” Flowey carefully avoided tripping over his words, and summoned a save point. “You haven’t even died once! You don’t have to worry so much about it.”

Clover stood and dusted off their jeans. “Yeah… you’re right. Let’s go.”

Flowey watched Clover disappear around the cluster of stone preceding the mines. He looked down at the harmonica stuck in his leaves. Maybe he could hear new music if he simply played it himself. He’d never tried before, aside from a few novice piano sessions. He held the instrument to his mouth and blew out a horrid shriek.

“Yee-owch!” Flowey startled as Clover re-appeared from around the tree, plugging their ears with their fingers. “You hijacked my harmonica just to play that?”

“W-what are you doing back here?” Flowey sputtered, yanking the harmonica down into the sand.

“Forgot this-“ Clover touched the save point and chuckled. “Sorry, didn’t mean to embarrass ya. Let’s play together next time!”

Clover left again, and Flowey almost regretted that his plant form had a mouth. He was certain now- Clover was much friendlier toward him than before. It wasn’t such a strange occurrence- most monsters would feel wary of Flowey even after he reset his actions against them.

Clover was possibly the only one to have the opposite reaction- happy to see him instead of dreading him. It was novel. Something different. But he knew what he put Clover through- even if the net sum was a positive response.

Flowey had left Clover to die.

That was how Flowey decided to end their tale, writing them off as a lost cause whose fate was inevitable, and planned to snatch their soul along with the others on his way to escape to the surface.

He didn’t want to be that kind of flower anymore.

He’s told himself this before, long ago. ‘I don’t like this’, then killing anyway, just to see what happened. He’d hoped the king and queen would help him ‘stay Asriel’, help him hold to his previous virtues, sought out therapy and advice… Even if it failed in the end, Flowey resolved to seek therapy once more, seek accountability. The surface would be new, there would be many therapists for him to try.

And Flowey was always up for trying something new.

~~~~*

They come, they leave, they die.

Clover fell unconscious, tucked out of sight beneath the tallest flowers in the king’s throne room. There was nowhere closer to the barrier for Flowey to hide them. It was literally battling against fate, stuck waiting for Ceroba to finally leave the castle, heartbroken and empty-handed.

No matter what flattery or torture he tried, Flowey had never once gotten Asgore to show him the souls. Now would be his only chance in assuring Clover wasn’t lost forever. Yes, Flowey had a save in case he failed, but Clover hadn’t died during the entire journey here.

Flowey was determined to keep it that way.

Wrapping careful vines across Clover’s wrist, feeling the flicker of their heartbeat, Flowey creeped across the room’s periphery, and peered into the barrier room. Just a stray flower that grew too close.

They were just wrapping up, the sheriff, former royal guard, and fox mother gave one last, tearful look, and huddled close as they departed from the castle. Asgore held the canister in his massive, paw-like hands, staring mournfully at its contents in the shifting barrier light. A silent vigil for one who he, at to his own declaration, had never met.

The vine around Clover’s wrist felt Clover shiver.

Maybe the king mourned more than just Clover. Maybe it was the fact that only one soul remained, and the king would be backed into a corner, forced to make good on his promise to steal seven souls and bring devastation to humanity. Maybe it was the fact that the king would rather take his own life than bring that devastation. Maybe the sight of the soul reminded him of a child he’d lost long ago…

But really, he’s done this six times by now. Flowey gave the weak pulse in Clover’s wrist a light squeeze. That stupid king needed to hurry up!

Finally, with the aid of his ancient magic, the solemn king beckoned the other souls into view, some nodding in their capsules from their dormant slumber. At least, Flowey hoped it was a dormant slumber.

Clover’s own soul placed among them, the king turned to depart before they sank fully back into the earth. Flowey snaked a vine down with the yellow capsule, gripping it tight.

Asgore didn’t look at the souls unless he had to. Clover’s absence was unlikely to be noticed until the king’s battle with Frisk. Even if he did notice, the entire Undergound would be in a frenzy, searching. Flowey would have plenty of notice to reset and prevent the king from ever looking in the first place.

Flowey carefully entangled the capsule in his vines, hoisting it back out from its sanctuary, when he felt something flutter to a stop.

The sluggish beating of Clover’s pulse went still.

Nearly cracking the canister open in his rush back to the, thankfully empty, throne room, Flowey decided to do just that.

He smashed the canister open, sending shards of glass glittering beneath the flower beds, cradling Clover’s sallow head in his leaves, and pushed the soul back in its rightful place.

“Clover? Stay with me, buddy.” Flowey looked the child over for signs of life, but the forced rise and fall of their breathing had also halted He shook them by the shoulders, probably too rough, but without any response. “You’ve gotta be kidding me—“

Flowey laid them down flat, and curled his vines into something resembling a fist, pressing hard into their ribs with repeated force.

“Breathe, nitwit! Wake up and breathe!”

Admittedly, a reset would’ve been more effective than a flower giving CPR, but Flowey was attached. Restricted to just one ‘run’, he could almost trick himself into thinking Clover’s life logically held value to him. He wanted to hang on to that ghost of compassion. It’d be all he’d have left.

Clover’s eyes screwed shut tight, a little choking sound against Flowey’s press against their jump-started heart. Flowey pulled away, giving them space to regain their breath as they curled into themself protectively.

“Ow…”

“Okay…” Flowey huffed, just now realizing his own breathing had become harsh and uneven. “Okay. Hard part’s over, you made it. Now we just…”

”…Flowey?”

How many years did Flowey need to babysit Clover before Frisk fell?

They wouldn’t be safe anywhere no matter who Flowey left them with, fate’s cold jaws would find them, enclose upon them. He could just… Hide them somewhere bundled in bubble wrap and hope for the best? No, no, he had to be ‘humane’ about this.

What would be the last place the Royal Guard would think to look..?

~~~~*

The True Lab was cold, dark, and unnerving.

Alphys’ secret was one that’d be taken to the grave, if not for a very specific sequence of events, Flowey knew. Logically, it was the safest place, and logic is what Flowey did best.

It was more the… psychological aspect of it all that would be a struggle. For Clover to grow up here, they’d be in Alphys’ care, arguably one of the least qualified people for the job. Not that she wasn’t brilliant, Flowey’s plan wouldn’t be possible without her scientific accomplishments. But when it was Alphys’ turn to be Flowey’s new ‘favorite’, she rarely survived most of his runs- often dusting at her own hand.

And for a child that tried to martyr themself?

They would need a more long-term plan. A disguise had worked for a while during a run when Clover stayed with birdbrain, but a single gust of wind was all it took for their hat to blow away along with their cover. Didn’t end well!

Looking around the lab as Flowey led a wobbling, nervous Clover deeper in, Flowey was sure there’d be something here that could disguise them in a more permanent way. Without damaging them! Flowey had to remind himself. He didn’t need to reopen his old habits by experimenting on their physical appearance.

“Sure is, uh… dark down here…” Clover shivered, rubbing up and down their arms, glancing around the dingy halls.

“Deal with it,” Flowey dismissed, still thinking about where to go from here. “You’re filthy. There’s a shower down the hall, just make sure it’s not occupied first, got it? You have to knock.”

“‘m filthy cause you dragged me across half the underground…” Clover mumbled, tip-toeing to the bathroom like they expected something to jump out at them. “There’s others here?”

“They had a good meal today, they won’t bother you,” Flowey gave a teasing grin. Clover shuddered. It was SO much easier scaring them than it was scaring Frisk. “I mean it. They won’t bother you if they know what’s good for them. What’s the matter? You’ve been through much worse today than an empty basement.”

“‘s nothing…”

The bathroom door creaked loudly, causing the hatless cowpoke to squeak in alarm. Okay, so maybe bringing an already traumatized child to the creepiest place in the Underground was a bad idea. Maybe he could drag that arcade game they liked so much down here? Alphys would get a kick out of that, too. If she needed incentive to let Clover stay without resorting to his old methods, maybe he could us that? Clover could impress her with their…Ugh. ‘Mew Mew Love Blaster’ skills…

Soon enough, Clover was clean, sitting cross-legged on an empty bed, eating…

“Are you serious!? Flower soup!?” Flowey accused.

Clover’s shoulders rose up to their ears. “I needed healed!” They defended with their mouth full.

“Whatever. Just get some rest.”

They placed the empty bowl on the floor, and bunched the thin blankets up all around them in a fortress of fabric. They didn’t close their eyes, though, and Flowey could make out their slight tremble they’d do whenever they were afraid. He’d hoped they’d get used to the lab with time, but now that they were here, it really was no place for a kid to grow up.

While Flowey was lost in thought, a pale, white shape reached out and soundly tucked Clover in as they drifted off to sleep.

~~~~*

Clover was barely awake when the amalgamates made themselves known.

“Back! I said get back!” Flowey shooed at the hulking blobs with his vines as they corralled Clover, hatless and gunless, from their bed and into the corner. “The stupid scientist will serve your breakfast soon! The kid doesn’t even have any potato chisps on them!”

“I-is that a dog?” Clover peeked around Flowey’s vines. “We just need a stick, r-right?”

“I only have VINES! Sit! Stay!” Flowey seethed as the gelatinous ooze leaned its slobbery body into him, causing some of his vines to snap. The toothy blob was starting to gnaw on him. “Gross! Don’t just stand there, Clover- ACT!”

Clover quickly patted their pockets, completely depleted of items in their fight with Ceroba. They shifted foot to foot in alarm- there had to be SOMETHING that could tame an amorphous blob—

“AAAUGH!” Flowey’s barricade collapsed, and the blobs were upon them. Clover managed to keep their arms held high above the quicksand-like sludge, and brought something up to their mouth.

The once cold concrete room filled with a warm, somber tune, causing the ooze to pause its onslaught. Flowey stared in disbelief.

“Clover, why do still have that?” Flowey balked incredulously at the harmonica. “How do you still have that?!”

Clover ceased their playing to reply in a quick breath. “Found it.” And they resumed playing.

The toothy blob retracted, some unfortunate, off-tune melody pulsating from its flesh. The dog fell asleep, too, Clover side-stepping around it’s bulky, snoring body.

They kept playing until they reached the end of the hall, squeaking out a harsh note from the harmonica when yet another pale shape blocked their path.

The spoon shaped creature tilted, like silverware bent by a psychic, then bobbed along as Clover blew panicky breaths into the harmonica.

Right, Flowey had forgotten.

The spoon morphed itself a pair of paw-like hands, interlocking one with Clover’s. Clover stumbled forward, the toothy amalgamate continuing the melody when Clover could not.

Soon enough, the spoon and Clover were twirling around each other in a child-like, impromptu dance.

Flowey’d never had much interest in the immortal amalgamates before. But he knew this one was a special case from the rest. After all, getting infused with the essence of human souls was something they had in common.

Part relieved, part genuine enjoyment, Clover began laughing along with the dancing shape, guiding it into a square dance. Then, as if to mirror them, the spoon shrank down into a little girl, shoulders shaking in silent laughter.

“Ha,ha! Is that what you really look like? You’re pretty darn fine at this, ahaha!—“ Clover’s laughter was cut off, then escalated as the girl lifted them with surprising ease, spinning in a jovial circle as Clover held out their arms in mock flight.

But before their fun could finish, the sound of an elevator echoed from down the hall.

The singing and dancing came to a halt, Lemon Bread and Endogeny scuttling toward the lab entrance for breakfast. “Drat!” Flowey exclaimed. “I don’t know how Alphys will react to seeing you. Just hide until I think of how to deal with her!”

“O-okay, whoa there!”

The girl morphed again, wrapping around Clover like a shroud. Her white coloring camouflaged over Clover, who looked mostly the same, but with a smiling, fox-eared hood upon their head.

“S-save some for the other’s Endogeny! You’re not the only one here that eats this!” A familiar yellow lizard struggled to hold a bag of dog food above her head, a poor attempt to keep it away from the dog monster that dwarfed her.

The yellow scientist’s eyes flitted to Clover, who just stood there with their usual clueless expression. She blinked for a moment. “Th-that’s a nice form, Kanako. It’s really, um, western? Come get breakfast while you still can, okay?”

She then fumbled the food bag, heaving a sigh as it spilled across the floor for Endogeny to… just ooze over and absorb it all into their gooey, glooby body, and then Alphys left. Flowey stared dumbfounded as she went back to delivering everyone their meals, then stared at Clover and their new friend.

They just found their bubble wrap.

~~~~*

Even if Alphys panicked over Kanako’s disappearance, it’s not like she’d ever tell anybody she went missing while under her care. No, Flowey snickered to himself as he aided his two charges safely to the Wild East, he had much bigger plans for Clover and ‘Kana-cloak’.

The monsters that did attack them on their way?

Couldn’t even land a hit on Clover.

The amalgamates were indestructible, immortal, and powerful. And Kanako? She was a boss monster on top of that. Couple the disguise with Clover’s ability to flip their soul to mimic the arrangement of a monster soul? They looked just like a monster child, even if their soul color was slightly off.

No one would DARE seize their life again.

Returning to the Wild East was an easy choice to make. Kanako was eager, and it was just the overall most logical location.

It was a fairly remote settlement. Frisk never encountered these guys, so their respective journeys wouldn’t interfere with each other. Flowey wasn’t sure how Clover’s reunion with Ceroba would go. Maybe Clover could crash on Starlo and the feistyj five’s couch, and team up with Kanako as needed? She’d look out for Clover just as they would for her. At the very least, Martlet would have to share custody this run, which was probably for the best. She was accident prone, and would make a very young, very inexperienced parent. Even if she did learn well over time. Having the two older monsters do the child rearing would be best.

They reached their destination. And Flowey…

Kept his distance.

The reunion, he assumed, would be raw, with lots of crying, and hugs, and a whole myriad of melodramatic emotions Flowey couldn’t comprehend. Clover and Kanako would be received with open arms, safe, and accepted- that was all that mattered. Flowey didn’t need to be there for it.

There’d be questions, of course, but with the next human set to fall years from now, there was no rushing to get Clover turned into the Royal Guard. With Kanako’s assistance, Clover could grow up with a relatively normal life.

So Flowey would remain out of sight, resetting if he was ever seen- lest that skeleton catch word of his existence and hunt him down again. Flowey stayed quietly hidden away for years…

Sometimes Clover spotted him.

He didn’t reset those times.

He wondered if he got too used to hanging around Clover, if he would still go on to stay with Frisk after this was all over.

How many resets had Flowey been through with Frisk?

How many runs had Flowey spent with Clover?

Flowey couldn’t even say for sure. It was another one of those rare, unnerving things.

~~~~*

The barrier was broken. The souls, monster and human alike, were returned to where they’d been taken from.

And once more, one last time, Asriel felt himself fading away.

Crouched over the flowers at the edge of the Ruins, he placed his leafgreen-tinted hands over his heart, feeling the steady beat of it, the rise and fall of his breathing… Just truly feeling for one last time.

The ground crunched under someone’s boot, and Asriel opened his eyes to see Clover, awkward smile, and standing there with a flower pot.

When had they gotten so tall? It made Asriel feel silly in his childhood form, looking up at the kid he practically helped raise. He should’ve stayed in a form at least old enough to pass as a university student or something. But his body was shrinking down into the soil as they spoke.

Clover ran their hand over the back of their neck, sheepishly rustling the tie of their bandana. They were used to Flowey’s ego, not… bittersweet integrity. “You carried me across the Underground,” they smiled softly. “…I’ll carry you out of it.”

“Sure…” Flowey released one last breath, and gazed up at the light peeking in from the caverns entrance to the sky above. “I’m pretty tired.”

~~~~*

“Hold your horses there, Majesty!”

Clover tumbleweeded past the throne room, shocking Asgore into halting his attack on Frisk. It was a small shock before a large shock, when all Frisk and Clover’s friends crammed into the room up to the barrier’s edge. They all began gushing on about their love and care for the two humans, how kind they had been despite it being neither of their main soul-trait. It was all very touching and heartfelt, at least Flowey assumed so. But Flowey had work to do.

“I’m glad you all finally made it!” Flowey chirped, popping up in the center of it all and sprouting thick, thorny vines, forcing the crowd into attention. He let his face twist into something contorted and sinister. “Sticking up for the human that asked me to kill every single one of you! Whelp, no takesies-backsies, it’s time to die!”

“Flowey!”Frisk frowned in disapproval while Clover looked suddenly and alarmingly confused.

“Just let me indulge a little?”Flowey giggled. “It’s the last time I’ll get to do this~”

Everyone’s souls were pulled in like a vacuum, and Asriel grew to stand tall, menacing, and nostalgic in his wicked robes. A true ruler of the cosmos, as light bent to rainbow at his will. Frisk will have seen it all before, though… Asriel sighed.

But Frisk blinked up at him in surprise, floating in the black space where there was nothing but the two of them. “Your eyes are… gold,” they spoke, bewildered.

Asriel halted the theatrics, his big dramatic speech, maybe a light show, anything to show off to Frisk one last time before it all came to and end, but… His eyes were gold? There was something new, and he couldn’t even see it? He supposed he could summon a mirror from the ether, but this was kind of a big moment for him and he didn’t want to ruin the effect by squandering his power for trivial matters. No, it would be the one thing he’d never see in the Underground. And he’d cherish it forever.

Asriel shattered the barrier, and all at once, the souls spilled out from his body in an upward snow of light.

“Well… That’s that,” Asriel felt the last warmth of everyone’s hopes and dreams filter from his chest. One soul notably, lingered, not immediately returning with the others.

Fused with him, the soul would have had the ability to reach into Asriel’s own heart and mind, would have seen the sacrifices he had made to reach this point. The selfless and determined, as well as the cruel and senseless.

The soul had every right to enact vengeance.

But it floated there.

Quietly, Frisk watched Asriel, illuminated by the sunny, yellow glow of the lingering soul. “We’ll look for a way to turn you back, Asriel. With all the tech of the surface, maybe Alphys can come up with something.”

“Yeah… Maybe,” and he made sure to look Frisk in the eyes as he said, “but I’ll be okay.”

Frisk, ever selective with their words, offered him a smile.

“Time to go back, Clover,” Asriel turned his attention back to his charge. “You can show everyone the surface. I’ll bet Martlet’ll love to see the sky.” And that was all it took for the soul to zip off and out of sight.

Well, only one thing left for Asriel to do. He would begin his trek back to the Ruins, to visit the flowerbed. If he was going to say goodbye, he wanted to do it there.

Frisk held open their arms, head tilted, asking.

Asriel’s choked back the tears threatening to bubble up. “Thank you…”

He embraced Frisk with his own arms, with his own compassion, and feeling theirs in return, trying not to cry, but… well, he was always a crybaby, wasn’t he, Chara?

He was glad he didn’t give up when he first awoke as a flower. He was glad to have the chance to meet Frisk and Clover, and to realize how much they meant to him.

Flowey’s petals lifted to the sun, and it felt warm.

The world was a big place.

Where should he go next?