Armed with a backpack of goodies and water, Frisk set off the next morning through the urban forest near their home before their friend awoke, making sure to ask their mother if she could keep an eye on them. They also told her they were going to help Mr. Vertullo again. It was not true but they promised they would be back home before dark, a promise they would make sure to keep.

They rounded every bush, peered into the knothole of every tree, and greeted every Whimsun and Froggit that passed by. Trail after trail they walked without seeing any sign of Flowey, the many flowers along the paths teasing their eyes with their great array, swaying in the wind like they had a life of their own. And still, he was nowhere. It occurred to them that Flowey might not even be in the area. He could be anywhere by now, but a feeling in their heart told them he could not be far. He was not one to run away and never come back.

By one in the afternoon, they decided it would do no good to continue tired and worn, so they took a seat on a secluded log and pulled out a lunch box to eat and drink. They were tempted to call out to him but they thought better of it, not wanting to draw too much attention to themself.

But as they sat and ate, their journey neared its end as a little voice piped up from beside them.

"Hey."

Frisk turned to the sound, little surprise marking their face when they saw Flowey by the log with his gaze fixed on the ground.

"Hey," Frisk replied.

"Eating lunch outside today?" he asked quietly.

Frisk nodded.

"Aren't you supposed to be over there helping that sheep guy?"

"It's my off day."

"Oh. I see."

Birds' tunes and the occasional flitting dragonfly filled the silence with nature's noise, helping alleviate the heavy air permeating the pause in conversation. Then a synthetic sound of a rustling bag fiddled with the organic orchestra. Frisk pulling out a little container and showing it to Flowey. He muttered. "I don't need to eat."

"It's snail casserole from last night," Frisk said. They opened the lid, wrinkling their nose at the smell, setting it down beside Flowey, knowing he would like it. He only cleared his throat, not saying another word of protest.

And the silence continued, another minute or two, with Frisk munching on their ham and cheese sandwich and Flowey staring at his gift, then at Frisk, then back at the gift, until he could not take the silence any longer.

"GAH! FINE!" he exploded. "I'm sorry about yesterday!"

"It's ok."

"I didn't mean to do that! All these… old memories started bubbling up and I didn't know how to deal with it and… I-I don't know! It just kind of happened!"

"I know."

"UGH! Stop answering like that!" he yelled, popping up closer to Frisk.

"Like what?"

"Like THAT! So calm and stuff! I almost killed your friend! You should be getting angry! Be furious! Anything but kind and calm!" He sighed. "It only makes me feel worse…"

"Flowey, you're not the one who should be apologizing. I should be apologizing to you."

Flowey threw a baffled look.

Frisk set aside their sandwich, their hands placed in their lap like they were being scolded, though all chastisement was internal. Flowey could see it written on their face, making him even more confused.

"I should have told you about all of this sooner," they said. "I've known about them… maybe a month now."

"A month?!"

They nodded solemnly. "Just about. I was going to tell you but I couldn't figure out a good way to say it. If I had just a little more time, I could have come up with a plan…"

Flowey cocked an eyebrow and grimaced. "Let's be honest here, Frisk. There's no good way to tell someone their sibling who died over a century ago has come back to life. It's a mouthful within itself."

Frisk's head hung lower. "You're right. I didn't even know how to tell Toriel or Asgore. I just… had to tell them. Like I should have told you. It wasn't fair how you found out about it. Taking in everything at once. I'm… I'm really s—"

"Alright, alright, alright. That's enough."

Frisk looked at him, puzzled. "But… but it was my f—"

"I said that's enough! Sheesh!" Flowey hopped up onto the log with his container of food, his roots struggling to steady himself until it latched onto some moss, allowing him to look Frisk square in the eye. "Stop beating yourself up about it! Your action doesn't even come close to what I did! So no apologies, understand? We both did something we regret. What's done is done. Let's move on already!" He brought his face close to the container and took an angry bite out of the casserole.

Frisk looked at Flowey, then back at their hands before they met his gaze, a hint of a smile on their face. "… Ok."

Both ate their respective meals without words, a gentle breeze pushing away the stagnant summer heat, the leaves of trees bowing down in thanks for cool relief.

Then after having cleared his lunch, he spoke. "So… is it REALLY them? Without a soul, it's hard to tell what's true. I… need another opinion."

"Yeah, it's them." Frisk placed a hand over their chest. "I know it."

"Where did you find them?"

"Mr. Vertullo's fields."

"Whose?"

"The 'sheep guy's'."

"Oh." He mindlessly teetered the container on the log with a blade of grass sticking out through the cracks, preparing his next question. "Did… you have anything to do with this?"

"Helping them come back?" Frisk shook their head. "No. At least, I don't think so. But, I'll admit. It's too much of a coincidence that they showed up where I was. And… it was kind of weird. When we found them, they didn't seem to know anything about people or animals, what they are and the differences. Kind of like they never LIVED before."

"Hm." He thought again, his brow furrowing. "Where did you have them stay? Obviously, it wasn't at your house. That was Toriel's first time seeing them. So where'd you have them stay?"

Frisk tapped their fingers together, hesitant to speak. "Um… Papyrus and Sans'…"

"WHAT?!" he screeched. "Their place?! Why THEIR place?! You know I don't want anything even RELATED to me to be found out by that smiley tr— er… Sans! You know how fast he can figure things out!? Fast! Very fast! It was unbelievable sometimes! So why in the world did you choose that place?!"

"I know, I know. Maybe not the best decision. But I didn't want them to stay just anywhere alone. Both Undyne and Alphys were away at a convention at the time and Papyrus and Sans are my other closest friends. They don't live too far from where I live so I could come visit them anytime. I didn't tell them much, anyway. Just that I had a friend who needed some place to stay."

"Hmph," he huffed. "… Well, if that was all. Nothing that can be done about it now." Then his face fell as his thoughts strayed away to the child themself. "You know, it's almost been half a year since I said goodbye to them for good."

Frisk nodded. "I remember you telling me. That was a big step."

"Yeah… but now…" he sighed, "when I thought I was finally moving on… they're back. And they don't remember me at all. Like this is a BIG reminder from the universe that I messed up and now my punishment is to watch them be happy from a distance." He glanced at Frisk and saw their concerned expression. "Not that I don't want them to be happy," he clarified. "Don't get the wrong idea. I mean, they're back! Here they are! I want them to be happy! I want to BE happy WITH them!" He bent down sharply, attempting something of a shrug. "But I can't. Because nothing is the same as it was. I'm not the same. I mean, I don't even know what I was expecting from myself if they DID remember who I was! Because I can't BE that way anymore! I can't feel anything for them. I can't actually care about them. Not really. And… what I did… how I hurt them like that, slipping back into old habits so easily…" He looked away, his petals sagging, only lifted by the swell of the breeze. "… I can't come back from that. I can't BE kind. It's not in my nature. I can't do it."

Another stretch of silence between them passed with the two looking in opposite directions, Flowey weighed down by what he could not do for anyone and Frisk in deep thought about what they could do for him, what they could at least SAY to him. But they could not think of the right thing to say. All they could think of was a story from their own past. Perhaps that would be the way to relate to him.

"Flowey, did I ever tell you about my life before the Underground?" They chuckled lightly at seeing a glimmer of interest from the flower. "Well, there's not a LOT to tell. I'm not that old."

"I know THAT! Don't insult me," he grumbled.

Frisk laughed again. "Sorry! Just teasing." Then they got quiet as they thought some more, renewing Flowey's interest. "… Before I fell, I had no family. No friends. I lived in foster care ever since I can remember. One day when I was really little, I thought to ask about my parents. I got curious. And, I guess… kinda hopeful that there were people there who really, really loved me. I knew I had to come from somewhere, so whatever happened to them, I thought. Why was I here?" They rubbed their arms without prompting from the wind, displaying some discomfort. "I… don't know if they should have told me anything, but they did. They told me that my parents just left me there, important papers and all, in front of the building, still just a newborn. And I don't know how the other kids found out, but many of them started taunting me about it. Always. Telling me that I was like the garbage people leave outside their house." They shrugged. "I don't know why those kids did that. Maybe to make themselves feel better? But I didn't think of their reasons. All I could think about was how cold I felt. How alone. And how much I hated everyone."

"You? Hate?" Flowey was astonished. "Now I know you're making all this up. You've never shown even the slightest OUNCE of hate towards anyone. You're too much of a goody two shoes. Heck, you're basically the monarch of goody two shoes!"

Frisk shook their head. With so much head shaking, it made Flowey wonder if Frisk's memories were going hazy. Their story was too incredulous to believe.

"I wasn't like that before," Frisk insisted. "I kicked. I punched. I screamed. I started fights just to make everyone stop. And it seemed to work, but it kept everyone away from me, making me feel more unwanted, which only made me act out more. Then I got it in my head to run away. Several times. And… when you're that little and out on the streets alone like that…" they pulled back a sleeve and for the first time Flowey could see old scars etched across their arms, the thick, dark stripes like train tracks running down golden soil. "… Things could get rough…"

"It was an endless cycle. I felt there was nowhere I could turn where I would see at least a little love. Violence and meanness always seemed to work and it was all I saw. And with where I was in life, I felt like there was no way out of it." Frisk gazed wistfully into the sky. "Then one day, I heard about the legend of Mt. Ebbott from eavesdropping on some kids telling each other ghost stories. Saying that those who have climbed it have never returned. And I really couldn't take it anymore. How terrible everything was. How unwanted I felt. So, I decided to follow that old legend and climb up the mountain. I didn't actually believe the legend. I thought something would happen to me before I even found anything. Then I came across an old cavern with a great, gaping hole. And that was it. That was my chance to leave."

"You… you ju… you…" Half-baked words only tumbled out of Flowey's mouth, forced out by the half-ton dropped from the story, then falling flat on the ground.

"I thought it was over. I thought I had reached the end of the world." Their voice cracked and wavered and when they turned to look at Flowey, they were crying.

And they were smiling.

"But I was wrong. The day I fell into the mountain was the day I saw the other side of the world, the side full of compassion and faith, full of unconditional love. When I showed kindness for the first time ever, I could see it in those that I showed kindness to, how their faces would light up, how they'd joyfully react. Even when it took a little longer for some, I found that if I stuck to it, then everything was gonna be okay in the end."

They shook their head again, but this time Flowey did not question Frisk. He only listened to them. "Kindness was not an instinct for me," they said. "My instinct was to hurt. But I learned that kindness is out there in the world and that it's a choice that even someone like me— someone who always thought violence was the answer and that violence was all the world had to offer— can make that choice. And that the world was going to be better for it."

Flowey chuckled. "Heh, a snot-nosed kid like you learned all that in one day in the Underground?" But then his face fell back into pensiveness. "But… I can't say your philosophy didn't work. You followed through with it to the very end and now look where everyone is. Their lives ARE much better for it." Then doubt hit him. "It still doesn't matter, though. That's you. You HAVE a soul. You can MAKE that choice. I physically CAN'T."

"Flowey, even people WITH a soul can do terrible things. You've said it yourself. 'There are a lot of Floweys out there', so you know this. The fact that you're at least considering being kind says a lot!"

"Says what exactly?" Flowey asked, trying to understand.

Frisk grinned. "That you deserve a second chance. You just have to take those baby steps." They tilted their head. "Don't think of this as a punishment, Flowey. Think of this as your fresh start. You don't have to be afraid to try. Just take this chance and run with it."

Flowey moved to deny Frisk's claim that he was afraid, but in the end, he could not bring himself to speak a word against it. Frisk's story swam around in his head. Usually something they told him left his head quick, but their story lingered. And as much as he hated to admit it, they had a point.

And… at the very least, he would try for their friend's sake.

Then he finally sighed, nodding. "Ok… ok, ok. I'll… I'll try it."

Frisk's grin grew wider.

"This doesn't mean I'll start being all lovey-dovey!" he added.

"I know."

"I still might screw up!"

"That's why I'll help."

"I don't even know where to start."

"Well," Frisk thought, "maybe you could start by giving them a compliment."

"Bleh! Getting all gushy about their clothes or a haircut? Pass."

"Ok, then how 'bout giving them a—"

"If you say kiss, I'll cut you."

"I was going to say pat on the back."

"Nope!" He shook his head. "No contact! Nuh-uh! No way, no how! … Besides," he twirled slightly, "no hands."

"Right… then… how about…" Frisk thought again, mindlessly tugging on a loose thread in their shirt pouch. Something flaky rubbed past their fingers and their eyes lit up with an idea. "I know exactly what you can do! I just need to make a quick stop at the fields."

[…]

The moon was barely out when Frisk returned home, the stars peering out under their sunset covers. Dinner was waiting for them on a floral plate, still hot from the oven. Their friend had already begun to dig in, too eager to wait but asked for a small second helping to stay with Frisk until they finished as well. And after a hefty helping of pound cake and a few games of Go fish, the two were sent off to bed with a warm hug and a kiss good night.

They were nearly settled in for the night with Frisk on top of their bed and their friend in an inflatable mattress, accompanied with plenty of pillows and sheets.

"Frisk! Look, look!" The child held up a quilt, small but stitched with meticulous care. "Your mom made this really nice blanket for me. And I got to help! We were having a lotta fun today. We had lunch, sang songs, told jokes." They pointed at the top left corner. "I made her laugh so hard with one of Sans' jokes that she messed up this stitch. It was really funny! I wish you were there to see it!"

Frisk smiled. "Glad to hear you had fun!"

The child nodded vigorously. "Yep! Maybe we can do it all again tomorrow, but you'll be there!"

"Sounds like a plan." Frisk watched the child smooth out their blankets and fluff their pillows. The child seemed so happy. Frisk wondered if the plan they made earlier in the afternoon was well-timed as they were not sure how the child would react, but if they were going to help Flowey, then they needed to act while everything was still fresh.

"Hey," Frisk began, "how're you feeling about what happened yesterday?"

"Hm? Yesterday?" the child asked. "What part? So many things happened yesterday!" They wondered aloud, counting out every event on their fingers. "We ate breakfast at that café down the street, Sans and Papyrus took us to the park, then we walked to Miss Toriel's…"

"About… you meeting my friend. The flower."

"Oh. That…" The child traced out squares on their quilt, outlining the patches, looking away. "I feel… bad…"

Frisk's shoulders slumped, nodding. Of course it was too soon to bring this situation up and of course they would feel bad, Frisk thought. It was a life and death situation. The plan could not happen today. Perhaps not ever. And it was understandable. Frisk would have to find another way to help Flowey.

Frisk moved to apologize for everything that happened, but the child spoke again.

"I feel… really bad for him." They looked up at Frisk through tears. Frisk was taken aback by their sincerity. Not a hint of ill will hidden behind those words. "I feel so… t-terrible," the child gulped. "He looked so hurt. Even more than your mom and Mr. Dreemurr. I know he hurt me and… I-I know it's not right to hurt others, but to see him so sad. And your mom today! You should've seen the way she looked at me when she told me stories of the kingdom underground. Like she was expecting me to say that I've heard it all before. But I really haven't. … To see all of you so hurt because of me. I remind you so much of someone I don't know. But I really wish I knew." They stared at their hands, tears slipping into the creases of their palms. Frisk jumped out of bed and to the child's side, stroking their back, simply listening to them. "I really wish I was them," the child continued. "I really do. Or at least, I-I could pretend to be them. Pretend to know so I could see your flower friend smile. Not the painful one I saw him put on. A good, real smile." They shook their head. "But I can't. I don't know how I came here or who I really am. But I'm not them. And I think being here is only making things worse for everyone. … Maybe it'd be better if left."

"Oh, for Pete's sake. Would you stop with the waterworks?"

The children gasped and looked at the window. There on the sill was Flowey who had come in through a large crack in the boards Asgore had used as a temporary replacement for the glass.

"Geez, you're like a Frisk 2.0. As if one wasn't enough—"

"Asriel!" The child ran over to Flowey, kneeling by the window. "Are you ok?"

Flowey stood still, mouth agape. "M… me? Am I ok?"

The child bobbed their head frantically. "Are you ok?"

He stared at the child, looking between one eye to the other, searching for any sign of disingenuity, but he found none. His rigid formed softened. "I'm… I'm better. Thanks. Um, listen…" he began, swaying slightly, "about yesterday…"

"I am so sor—" the child started to say, but Flowey interrupted them.

"Stop. Just stop. I heard an earful of that nonsense outside. Your apology means NOTHING!" He cleared his throat. "Er… because… you shouldn't be apologizing." He looked to Frisk. "Neither should you." Then back to the child. "Uh… we just… got off on the wrong foot, what with you looking like someone I knew, and um… I… I, uh… I'm…" He gritted his teeth and shook, trying to make the words come out.

Until he finally blurted out the words. "I'm sorry it shouldn't have happened blah blah blah here!" Thin vines from the lattice sprung forth, encasing a small parcel. The child flinched at the sight of the tendrils. "I'm not going to do anything. I'm trying to GIVE you something," Flowey assured.

Slowly, the child held out open hands, in which the vines dropped the package then slid back out through the partially boarded window. The child gawked at the parcel, rubbing their hand over the brown parchment paper. They fingered the folds in the wrapping and gingerly removed the tape, taking off the paper until a simple white box shown through. The child's eyes gleamed. "Thank you. I've never had my own box before."

"It's not the box, kid. It's what's inside it," Flowey enunciated, annoyed. "Haven't you gotten a present before?"

The kid shook their head. "Not in a box."

"Well, you'll see more of those in the winter." He cleared his throat again. "Though I wouldn't call THIS a present exactly. Consider this as more of a… a 'peace offering'."

The child's eyes gleamed even more when they pulled the 'peace offering' from the box. In their hands was a docile little creature, still and peaceful with its baby blue button eyes and woven pink smile at the end of a little snout. The little child squeezed its limbs and something like rice poked back, something firm yet squishy. The soothing feeling of the stuffed cloth captivated the child, but what enchanted them the most was the material lacing the plush— wool. The same as the day they woke up.

"So, yeah… I, uh…" Flowey looked to Frisk, who nodded once, prodding him to continue. "… I heard you liked sheep, so… it seemed fitting to get you something that reminded you of them. The wool is from the fields, so… it's real. Like a real sheep. I know this doesn't make up for what I did. But it's, uh… something, you know?"

The child swallowed, finding themself tongue-tied. "Th… thank you, Asriel."

"It's Flowey," he said. "Flowey's my… my real name."

"Flowey…" they uttered softly, bringing the doll closer to their chest with one arm while the other quickly pulled Flowey in for a hug before he could refuse. "Thanks, Flowey. It really means a lot to me."

Frisk beamed at Flowey, who only rolled his eyes. Imperceptible to either child, though, was how he leaned into the embrace, imprinting the new memory on his mind, not to replace the ones he had made all those years ago, but as an addition, one that would forge a new, better path into the future.

Then he pried himself away, smirking. "Heh, you both are weird. Hugging total strangers." He turned to leave, most of his stem already hidden in the dark. "Don't tell anyone about me, by the way," he said. "Frisk already knows this, but I like to keep me… existing a secret. Don't ask why. Just humor me, ok? So, uh… yeah. Good we're square. Yeah … bye," he added awkwardly.

"Wait, Flowey!"

He stopped at the sound of the child's voice before he was one with the trees, casting his own silhouette against the sky.

"Maybe you wanna stay for a little bit? At least for tonight? If that's ok, Frisk," they asked sheepishly. Frisk gave a thumbs-up.

"Um, thanks," Flowey replied, "but I don't really like staying inside. Staying here is too big of a risk for me. So, uh…" He watched the child's shoulders droop under the weight of his answer. "Um, but I come by every so often. So, you'll see me again. I don't know WHY you'd want to, but if that makes you happy…"

"You promise?"

He sighed. He could only speculate that their reason for attaching to him was a remnant from the past. A single, mysterious string that he could pull to fish all the other remnants out, and it made it that much harder to move on, though knowing he had help to get through the struggle, something he did not have in a long time, eased the hurt. Thoughts still flitted by with ideas on how to jog their memory. Certain words, certain actions. But he shoved those thoughts away, refusing to cave to a weakness. It was time to leave the past behind.

"Sure. I promise."

Then he left, not looking back at the children's faces. Because he did not want them to see his own, fighting the urge to break down. Whether it was from sadness at saying goodbye to old times or from joy at knowing that good times might be ahead, he could not tell because they felt exactly the same. But whatever the case, there was hope for something like him to have another chance at life. To be someone different. To be someone better. And he would not be alone in that.

Deep in the forest he made his bed, taking one last look in the direction of that quaint little house, uttering a few words before sleep. "It was good to meet you. Thanks for the chance."

"See you tomorrow… human."

A/N: And that's the end! This is the first time I've finished something other than a one-shot, so I'm pretty proud of myself! I hope you all enjoyed. All critique and feedback are welcome.

Until next time!