1.

The first time Flowey opened his eyes was undeniably the most frightening moment of his (then) short existence.

It's hard to describe exactly what ran through him at that moment. A foul mixture of fear, relief and abandonment, though afterwards he would swear he felt absolutely nothing. His voice trembled as he called out against cavern walls, echoing back at him, his own cries for help, for his parents, his sibling.

But nobody came.

The relief ebbed away first, smothered in dark realization of what had become of him. Asriel's survival came at a steep price, it seemed.

Then the fear went, warped into calm detachment, it left him wired, high strung. Itching for something more, something permanent.

Anything to make him feel alive.

But the loneliness remained real and all encompassing, settling itself deep within his soulless body, where it festered. Undisturbed for much too long.

Chara was gone, dead, and nobody would come save him from this mess he made for himself.


2.

He found his father first, right where he left him, but looking years older. Gray and empty in a way Flowey had never seen him before.

And alone.

The castle halls were deserted, their hustle and bustle seemingly died with their prince, and Flowey wandered them endlessly, looking for some pieces of himself that could still be put back together.

It would take him a while to realize it was a hopeless effort.

Asgore didn't recognize him, and when Flowey told him, his eyes spoke of only confusion. Pity.

There was no comfort to find in them.

The king's dust was the first he ever spilled, a symbol for tides turned, and the beginning of something else.

Something worse.


3.

New Home depressed him, and was scantly worth the journey, crossing the entire reaches of their underground prison just to find disappointment.

The Ruins were by far more interesting, more alive with things he could kill. And then bring back to live with his newfound powers. Again and again.

His mother too, confined to her self-inflicted banishment. A sentiment probably stemming from a place that was righteous, a half-hearted confession of her own guilt.

Flowey thought perhaps, if things were different, the notion would have touched him.

As it was though, it mocked him, shoved in his face all the things that were broken now, wrong. There had been different children, humans like Chara, but nothing like them at all.

They had died, Flowey found out, and it gave him a sick amusement to know they hadn't lived.

They hadn't been granted the pleasure of that what had been denied him.

They hadn't been able to replace him, no matter how much his mother struggled.

Yet, it couldn't make him happy. His parents had failed him, forsaken him, forgotten him and even seek to oust him with another.

They meant nothing to him anymore.


It was sometime after this that he meets Papyrus and everything changes again.


4.

They stay, and he is empty. Dust covers the walls, the floors, everything.

Flowey is scared.

Papyrus is dead, everybody is dead, but this isn't like the other times. When somebody else sits the throne and he has to while away time until they're restored.

Until he comes back to him.

The human, the one who so easily toppled his kingdom and ended his reign of power, has a smile not unlike theirs. Sharp, yet somehow playful.

In the end, it's all still just a game to them.

For the first time in ages he cries for his parents, and for them, hoping against hope that even a shred of their soul somehow remains. That they can put down their toys and stop playing now.

It ceased being funny a while ago.

Dying doesn't hurt, not like the first time anyway, but Flowey is surprised at how betrayed he can still feel.

After all this time, still nobody is answering his calls, and that's the truly painful thing.


5.

They leave and he is empty. As empty as the Underground is now.

A few others stick around, too scared to go up, too set in their ways, or maybe just thinking it's not worth the trouble.

But most of them go, towards the sun and fresh air and new lives.

And Flowey winds up all alone again.

It's eerily like the first time, quiet and lonely and with an edge of something more. Abandonment. Though he was certain there was nobody left to desert him.

It takes a while for him to figure out, to give in to the increasing awareness of how he let somebody slip past his defenses. But denial will do him little good, and in the end Flowey knows.

Knows who he is waiting for this time around.

Days pass, slowly turn into weeks until he is stringing seasons together and somehow it comes unexpected, even if he should know better, that he is still able to feel so deluded.

That there's enough left inside him to actually care.

He waits and waits and waits and nobody comes. Then it resets.

It all goes back to how it used to be.

And Flowey is still alone.


+1.

Then they go again, and it's a repeat of last time. Flowey is weary, tired beyond reason and this isn't how it was supposed to be.

This isn't how their plan was going to pan out.

They were meant to be the ones freeing the monsters, starting a new era, but not like this. Everything they worked for, fallen apart into yellow petals and blood. Chara is gone, sometimes it still needs to sink in.

So he has no choice but to wait again.

He stopped counting days, stopped torturing himself, like a child keeping track of how long it would take for his parents to finally come home.

Though he isn't a child anymore. That part of him faded eons ago.

Footsteps disturb his thoughts. Flowey would not turn around, would not want to be disappointed again, for he knows who he wants it to be. The only one who matters.

He doesn't think the he will come for him after all this time.

"I'm sorry." Papyrus says, and Flowey doesn't want to hear it from him, but has to. Needs to believe he is here.

"Why?" And maybe he's asking why Papyrus came back at all, what took him so long, or why he is sorry.

Flowey hasn't been sorry about anything. Not between them.

"I'm sorry." The skeleton repeats, and his shoulders are slumped in an uncharacteristic display of regret. It rubs Flowey all the wrong ways.

He doesn't like it when Papyrus is upset at all.

"I should have come back earlier, but I-" Papyrus begins, then trails of. He hesitates, barely a second, and Flowey can't help but wonder if he is rethinking this whole thing.

Thinking that maybe Flowey deserves to rot down in this hellhole for all eternity. That it's just the punishment he deserves.

"You know what, no." Papyrus says, and kneels down, knees in the dirt and hands next to him and Flowey doesn't want to meet eyes because he couldn't bare it. "I'm just making excuses. It doesn't matter why I didn't come, I'm sorry I didn't. But I'm here now. I should have been here long ago, but I'm here now."

The words wash over him and some cynical, dead part inside Flowey doesn't want to believe them. But he does.

"You came back for me?" Flowey says, eyes finally upward, and it's strange. It feels warm and comfortable and maybe they could simply stay here? Just the two of them together, and nobody else.

"Of course I did." Papyrus says, some grandeur slipping back into his voice and he cups the ground around him. A bit like he's trying to give a hug.

"Of course you did." Flowey echoes, though it's more like a sigh. A wonder, at how he ever managed to doubt Papyrus in the first place.

And a certainty that he wouldn't have to be alone any longer.


This is another commission, and also a companion-piece to Clarity. There'll be a third one in the series soon ;)

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