Chapter 17: Lonesome, Impulsive Monsters
It's finals week, so what am I up to? Why, two new chapters to end my writing hiatus, of course!
"Awake, pretty?"
You jolted up at the sound of his voice, instantly regretting the action and cursing the flower under your breath.
A chuckle. "Sweet dreams while I've been gone?" Another chuckle as you winced.
You doubted he'd punish you for backtalk at this point, so you rasped a series of low curses under your break. "Fuck you."
Keeling over, Flowey belly laughed. As he was wringing his leaves, you looked him over. He was giddy, you could tell. It couldn't be anything good; you knew him better than that. But then, Mad Dummy had said the creature was unstable, and you knew from experience that meant he was fickle at best.
"Well, seems like this time you're all talk." Flowey smirked, flicking a switch on the panel next to the bed. For a long moment, he glowered as you paled from the increasing rate of the toxins entering your body.
"What's that supposed to mean, you ask?" He snorted, breath too close to your ear. Teeth gritted hard together, pinching your cheek to the point of bleeding in places, you continued to glare at him as you felt yourself grow more and more lightheaded from the intensity of the venom.
"Well," Flowey began, cheeks stretching infinitely as his evil smile spread wide across his face, sharp vines caressing your cheek just hard enough to leave scratches but not draw blood. You could puke at his perpetual ministrations and taunts. "If you must know, and this time I'm not messing with your head, my dearest Frisk," he paused for what you assumed was dramatic effect, scratching longer strokes across your face, as if causing you more pain was possible by now. Honestly, you thought to yourself that if he was going to tease you, he should get on with it because you were oh so very done with his bullshit. Not to mention, you were sure this was real because the feeling of his sporadic exhales on your skin was nauseating, disregarding the rather grounding sensation of injuries on the inside and outside of your body.
"Your dearest Sans," he continued, his expanding smirk becoming entrancing in your agonizing intoxication, "Is dead."
"You're lying." You spat without a moment's hesitation.
"You wish I was. Your lover is gone." He crouched down next to you, making you crane your head more to see him. He was clearly enjoying this. "Those emotions always did get the best of him. No wonder you tried to convince him that mercy was the best policy." A pause as you gasped and then coughed from the abrupt jerk of movement. He chuckled. "You know, I'm really glad Sans took the time to create these formulas that were supposed to be for me. You know, before he died. Because now I get to use them on you!"
This has to be an illusion, you thought to yourself. You couldn't let yourself believe it for a second, lest you lose any more hope than you already had. But, despite your blood pressure rising and anxiety setting in and how much you wanted to let the tears loose and lose control and cry, you forced yourself to think rationally. Sans was smart, logical, and could take care of himself better than most monsters thought. You couldn't trust Flowey; even at his best when you were sure he was telling the truth, he was still scheming, planning his own personal revenge. So, with that in mind, you devised a plan to tell the difference.
"Show me his corpse," you slurred, though you weren't sure whether it was from the poison to blood ratio in your body or the overwhelming emotions and thoughts that threatened to push past the barrier of your mind and spill onto the crusty tiles.
"He's dust in the wind, swee-"
"Show me or I will refuse to cooperate anymore."
Another sly laugh, edging on manic came from between Flowey's lips. "All deals are off, honey. The brains of this operation pulled a fast one and paid the price. You're just my toy now, Frisk, for me to do whatever I please with." Another short laugh. "Bet you regret trying to escape now, eh, sunshine?"
You glared, mind spinning. "T-Then bring me his sweatshirt." You hissed, struggling to keep your eyes open.
Flowey thought for a moment, pouting, before huffing dramatically and disappearing into the ground. For the few moments he was gone, it was silent. Not eerily so, but enough that you could take a moment to breathe and sniff the mucus back into your lungs. All too soon, he returned, leafy limbs holding something.
It took a second for it to register in your brain, the blue, tattered fabric torn to shreds, strings hanging from the tips. Flowey sighed, pressing a switch on the board next to your table that made one of the strips of metal holding your wrists down recede back into the hard block beneath you. He glared warningly at you, but you couldn't care less about fleeing as you reached a shaky hand out to pull the garment close to you. You barely managed to avoid the vital tubes as you brought it to your face, sniffing deeply. The dust particles clinging to it tickled your nose. All at once, you couldn't hold back anymore and your body shook from a sob that had been repressed for far too long. The icing on the cake was Papyrus' scarf in the lining of the neck, and was also the final factor that convincing you that Flowey was indeed correct. Instead of being angry with him, you were just so tired of it all, and you cried silently into the collar of Sans' jacket until you passed out from exhaustion shortly after.
You always slept in a fetal position, especially when you were having a rough time. You awoke in a bed, curled in such a position that you were calm when you awakened, as calm as someone could be with the knowledge that their best friend had passed away, or worse, been murdered as result of their own actions. This time, however, you didn't blame yourself. Of course you felt incredibly guilty, but you knew it wouldn't get you anywhere if you went around feeling sorry for yourself because of nothing, and a small part of you was proud of that.
After taking a moment to wake up and remember that no, it wasn't all just a bad dream and that yes, the one thing that had kept you holding on when all else was lost was now gone, neither of which were too unfamiliar at this point, you questioned why you were in a bed and not still in chains on an bench for monster experiments, and how your body and soul were seemingly intact after all that abuse and from being so besotted.
And then you questioned the smell.
This was when you rose, sitting up with an oof, to take a look at your surroundings. You were tucked into one in several rows of beds. Around you were all the abominations, all somewhat peacefully asleep, albeit several were noisily snoring. The sight, as disgusting as it was, was rather appeasing in the sense of how normal and routinely it all was. You allowed yourself to relax in this environment, thinking you had earned it by then, and allowed yourself a few more minutes (or hours? You couldn't tell) of sleep before the next battle began.
The next time you woke up wasn't half as pleasant.
All the beds were empty, other monsters nowhere to be seen, except for the bed directly next to you. The golden flower of your nightmares sat perched on the edge of the mattress, staring at you, expressionless.
You had to force yourself not to jump, knowing that it would hurt you more than was worth it. You still felt incredibly weak.
"What," you started to speak, but your tomgue was dry as bone, and you choked on your words. Surprisingly, the flower waited patiently while you caught your breath and swallowed harshly. Clearing your throat, you tried again. "What do you want from me?"
Flowey smiled sadly, replying with, "I'm sorry for your loss. I wanted to make sure you were okay."
You felt you hands reflexively scrunch around the tufts of fabric surrounding you. It was only then that you realized that Sans's sweater was curled around you, Papyrus's scarf bunched up around the neckline as if you had been burying your face in it as you slept. You wanted so badly to be furious with the flower, to say 'how dare you have the audacity to ask me that,' but you were just so tired that you couldn't bring yourself to say the words.
"Not really, no. I'm far from okay. I'll live, I guess." Pathetic, you wanted to scold yourself for sounding so weak, but quite honestly you couldn't care less. There was no use trying to hide your darkest moments from Flowey, especially now that your thoughts were practically at his mercy.
"You know, now that Sans is, um…"
You perked your head up. Flowey was stuttering. You knew that he had lost his mind down here, and the turmoil of emotions inside his head with no soul to truly emote couldn't possibly be helping, but this? This was unnerving.
"Maybe, now, you could be with me." With this small utterance, Flowey tipped his head down, almost sulking as he drew his leaves into himself. "I'm so alone, Frisk." He lifted his head, a small simper on his lips. "You can't get me out of here. You could at least stay."
You felt no sympathy for the Flowey, but you still couldn't be angry with him. You knew that wouldn't get you anywhere, and you were too devastated and preoccupied with trying not to let the severity of the situation get to you to feel anything other than sad.
"Why would I stay with someone who killed my best friends and then tortured me?"
Flowey's head dipped again. As much as you wanted to insult him and metaphorically pound him as hard as he had to you, that would be low even for you and your instincts told you that you were better than that. As such, you decided to take advantage of the situation in a positive manner.
"You know how to use this equipment, right? Maybe, if we work together, we can find a way to get both of us out and eventually get our determination levels back to normal?"
For a moment, you thought you might actually have gotten through to him, the smile playing on his face hopeful and dear lord, it was beautiful. But then, just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone and replaced by that solid set glare.
"You're an idiot. Why would I trust someone who's taken everything from me?"
"You know what?" You snapped, ripping the blankets from your legs and snatching the blue cloth so tightly in your closed fist that your knuckles turned red. "I've tried so damn hard to do the right thing, and for what? We'll never be friends, Asriel! You'll never change!" You shrugged the sweatshirt on and dug your hands into the pockets. To your relief, the orb and a small cylinder of currengy were still tucked away inside. Success, you thought to yourself with a smirk as you simultaneously wrapped Papyrus' scarf around your neck. Looking back up at Flowey, you stood for a moment, swaying, trying to regain your balance. The world was blurry for a moment, and when it cleared, you saw Flowey staring at you with frightened eyes. It made you feel oddly empowered.
"What?" You snorted. "You inject me with God knows what, then act surprised when I have side effects?"
"Frisk, no. Wait!" He said, tone dire.
"I think I've waited long enough. I'm leaving, and you're not going to stop me."
"Seriously Frisk, wait!" Flowey insisted, waving his arms at you as you went to push past him with your feigned determination, until your head started pounding.
With a scream, you collapsed to the ground, hands clutching your throbbing skull. You felt strangely soft leaves touch your arms. Before you had the chance to jerk away, they led you to the floor so you were laid on your back. Several vines woven together supported your head.
"I told you that you should have waited," he sighed, your shouts turning to whimpers. Grimacing, the once menacing flower called on your soul, drawing it out with little resistance into the chilled laboratory air. Still holding your head, you gasped at the sight. Your once gleaming, red soul was deformed, gray spots covering it like a demon child's connect the dots and bubbling with a sickly, purple aura coating the whole of it.
"What have you done?" You rasped softly, horrified.
"Your soul is more unstable than mine by now," he answered, avoiding the question and looking ashamed. "I was just so angry, I never meant…" he trailed off before sniffing and continuing. "Whatever you do, you cannot try to save or load. The last time you did, you ended up trapped in your own memories. It was good for me at the time, but now, if you even attempt to alter the timeline, you could not only harm yourself, but disrupt the entire timeline." He paused to make eye contact with you. "It might destroy any chance of getting Papyrus or Sans back, ever."
You didn't know what to say. Your emotions were overwhelming, your thoughts racing. Appalled, you simply nodded.
Flowey sighed, rocking your head ever so slightly. "You know, neither of you ever really had a chance, right?"
"I know. But at least we tried." You replied, voice miraculously working of its own accord. "You'd be surprised how far a little determination can go."
"Determination and sparing never got me anywhere in the end, certainly not as far as you. It's not fair." He spat, frowning. "Why are you so special?"
You cringed, wishing he would stop moving your head. "Don't be like that. I struggled because of my decision. Make up your mind. Do you want to be nice to me or not?"
Flowey thought for a moment, so intently that he stopped shaking your head. "I'm not sure," He whispered. "A part of me is still angry with you for leaving me behind. I don't want to blame myself for the way they treated me because goddamnit, I FUCKING TRIED!" He yelled, abruptly and emotional, before settling down and blushing ashamedly. "Sorry. But, I just, I- I want to be happy." When you didn't respond immediately, he continued, muttering under his breath, "And the times I was nice to you got me stuck back here where I started." He sighed again, pressing his leaves into his eyes, frustrated. "Why am I explaining myself to you…" he droned on, clearly talking to himself.
"Flowey." You brought his attention back to you. "What is it that you want?" You prompted him, serious as ever.
It seemed you were actually getting through to his as he solemnly answered, "I want to do the right thing, but the consequences always bring me down."
"It's okay, Flowey," you gently consoled him. "Your actions in the past don't define who you are today. I'm sorry Flowey, you can change. It might take a while for everyone to forgive you, myself included, but I promise that if you let me, I'll help you become the monster you want to be."
The whole time you were talking, you noticed Flowey start to brighten up. You considered that perhaps he was considering the opportunity for redemption as he slowly began to look more and more alive.
"I can't let go of what I've become just like that," he cried out, pained. "Even if I want to be who I was so long ago, even if I want a soul, I know it's not that easy. I've tried everything to get back what I had and nothing worked. I lost hope for regaining who I was, or even what I want to be. At least now, I can take some advice that's actually helped me. Chara may not have been the best person, but at least they taught me to fight back and didn't turn their back on me when I hurt people without meaning to." Flowey paused, reminiscing. "They were there for me."
"Flowey," you addressed him, drawing his gaze to you again. "I'd never turn my back on you. I still haven't, have I? I've made some mistakes, but haven't we all? I still want to show you mercy. Please, Flowey, accept it."
He stared at his leaves, obviously thinking hard. "But I've killed so much." He whispered.
"Mistakes are mistakes. I won't judge your past if you won't judge mine." You chuckled to yourself. "Well, at least not anymore than you already have."
Flowey chuckled, inappropriately timed humor seemingly a forte for you both. He nodded, and for the first time in a while he looked genuinely cheerful instead of manic and miserable with vengeful intent. He smiled at you, and you returned it with a light hug. He threw himself into your embrace, and you couldn't help but laugh at him; it was endearing. Sad, but endearing. It was like nobody had cared enough about him in a long time and now finally, he had a glimpse of someone who might.
As you let the flower curl his vines loosely around you, you caught a glimpse of a shadow lurking around the corner, the greasy tentacles of Onionsan making their way towards Flowey's turned back.
"Onionsan, wait." You warned.
The order was stern, and the monster stopped in his tracks, expression turned sour. Flowey abruptly rebuilt the defenses he had let down and scattered away from both of you, snarling.
"Was this a trick all along?" He demanded, looking angrily from between you and Onionsan. "What were you planning?"
"Your time is over, Flowey, y'hear?" Onionsan stuttered, trying to be brave as he inched closer.
You sighed. "Wait," you pressed on, holding a hand out to Onionsan, who flinched. Turning to Flowey, you explained, "The core you stole from Sans. You used it to give yourself the ability to save without being able to retain your absorbed determination, yes?"
Looking skeptical, Flowey nodded aggressively.
"I couldn't let you use that against us. I recruited Onionsan here to help get it away from you. You understand, I couldn't have known what you would do with it. Please," you begged, "Understand that I'm not lying. None of this was a plot against you. And even if it was," you risked adding in an attempt to be completely open, "it's not like you haven't planned shit against me." You opted against adding 'and Sans' at the end, not wanting to make the flower feel any worse about himself.
After another second glaring at Onionsan, Flowey nodded slowly. "I believe you, but not that thing," he hissed, angling his glare towards the sea onion.
"Y-you're the one who's a freak!" Onionsan yelled nervously, gaining confidence as he spoke, to your chagrin. "If anything, I should be the one not trusting you, y'hear? You made me into this!"
Flowey snorted loudly before you could tell them not to bicker. "I made you look like what you are inside. You did play some horrible 'pranks' on me, 'y'hear?'" He made air quotations here, and you rubbed your sinuses dramatically, attempting unsuccessfully to catch their attention. "You deserve every drop of this!"
Onionsan looked stricken, glancing guiltily at you. "He tried to destroy our kind!" He protested, looking from you to Flowey and then back. "Can't you make him apologize at least?"
"I will not apologize to any of them! My actions here are justified!"
"Okay, enough!" You held your arms out, trying not to sway as your head began to ache again. "No one here is innocent. Now, if you-" You were cut off by your condition, vision going black as you collapsed at their feet. The last thing you heard was Flowey's urgent scream of help to Onionsan before you whited out.