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Not with a Bang but with
INTERLUDE
Haaaappy anniversary, everyone! Two years ago on this day, I posted the very first chapter of NWABBW... it's been quite a journey, hasn't it? And we're only like, halfway through. Thank you so, so much for supporting this fic over the past two years. All of your comments and kudos and reblogs (and fanart!) mean so, so much to me, they make me so happy, and I just wish I were better at expressing it. Please know that even if I sound perpetually awkward, your support just kind of makes me melt into a flustered happy puddle on the floor. I'm surprised you have stuck around this long despite my terrible update schedule, but I've never had an audience like you guys before, and I just can't say how excited it all makes me. So... thank you. Really, thank you.
If you follow the NWABBW tumblr, then you'll know by now that I decided to do a video q&a for the fic's 2nd anniversary. The quality is just terrible, but as promised, you can find the link on the NWABBW tumblr since FFN doesn't allow outside links!
This chapter contains body horror.
oOo
Before
After the shattering of the Barrier, Prince Asriel sat in the dark for three days with his body fully restored. Over this period, he experienced no hunger, no thirst, no tiredness. This was his first clue that he was not truly back to normal.
Nor did he experience boredom. It's hard to feel boredom when your soul is busy crumbling away, and you can feel the loss of yourself bit by bit, fully aware of it every second, and caring less and less all the while.
When the last of Asriel was gone, his body followed suit, twisting and contorting and shrivelling, until finally he was back to being a flower. The transformation process hurt terribly, by the way.
Flowey didn't know how much time had passed since the Barrier was shattered. At first, he'd counted the days, but on day number 114 he decided that was sort of morbid and that he should quit while he was ahead.
A few times now, he'd ventured further out into the Underground – his roots ran as deep as they always had, and he still had the ability to pop up wherever he pleased – and he'd sat and watched the remaining monsters go about their daily business. He'd considered killing them, just for a laugh, but ultimately decided against it.
Killing still made him stronger. This he knew from the time he'd killed a squirrel that had made its way down here, but when the number of his LOVE increased, he experienced no rush of joy as he had before. A voice inside him said, Why are you even bringing up your LOVE at all? What for?
Things just weren't the same as they had been.
Flowey had thought it was awful, before, not having any feelings – he'd bemoaned the perpetual emptiness. The closest thing he'd had to feeling at all had been an insatiable curiosity. But now his feelings were back, and they were horrible.
Not in full, thank god, but there they were there all the same. And now those stupid feelings had started bleeding into his memories.
Even the faint echoes of her memories he'd always held were infected. They were foggy and distant as ever, but now those foggy, distant echoes of memories came with feelings.
Flowey scoffed in disgust and tossed his head back.
Do you like me, now?
You don't still hate me, do you, all this time later?
Where are you, anyway?
He'd been thinking this a lot, lately. He wasn't bored anymore; he'd been bored for far too long. No, Flowey was just tired.
He didn't know how long it had been since the Barrier had broken, but he had a general idea. Some leaves had fallen down into the mountain and skittered into the cavern where he now resided.
Flowey sighed. The Determination inside him – both that from the injection that had woken him and what was left of hers – felt distant now, too. Out of reach. It was the only thing that had been keeping him going all these years, and he wasn't really up to holding on much longer.
And what a strange existence it was, in this world where his powers were lost, where he could no longer Reset, where all of a sudden everything mattered! Where all of a sudden every action had consequences, real consequences that couldn't simply be undone with a simple little Reload.
It was a terrifying world, and Flowey didn't belong to it and never had.
He had, though.
But he had died eighty-one years ago.
Maybe it was his turn to die, now.
And maybe he could finally find Chara.
What would happen, Flowey wondered, if he died? Where would he go? Would he go anywhere at all, or simply cease to exist?
Oh, those questions applied to him anyway – what difference did it make? He didn't care. By definition, he didn't.
Flowey let go.
Petals wilted, shrivelled, fell to the ground. Unable to support the weight of his head, his stem drooped and sagged and went limp.
He followed.