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Being flowers has always been so quietly frustrating. No voice to respond with, no arms or legs to express himself with. Blue could only watch in dismay as Asgore's loneliness drove his obsessions—could only sit in discomforting stillness.
The same feeling pervades them all now. They can't hear each other’s voices like they did in the dark world, without ears that so clearly caught the reverberating sound waves in the air, like humans could. He has no body to dance with. He can only grasp onto the fleeting memory, like holding a butterfly on his fingers.
Except he doesn't have any.
But, he does have Yellow by his side. It had startled him at first to himself displaced, waking up in the arms of his beloved, cramped in one glass case.
He wondered why, until he'd seen Flowery's taped stem.
They had all ceased to exist at the end. Or rather, they'd gone back to quiet sentience as flowers. They'd closed their eyes, prepared to wake up from their dreams.
But opening them now, it's clear something happened. A nightmare had torn through. The store was quiet and empty.
Voices around him, felt through his stem rather than heard, start clamouring in panic. He hears Orange's distress as though she cried aloud. Seth's words crack with heaps of stress. Green's dismay is palpable despite their silence. Yellow squirms in his arms. Aqua quietly waits in confusion, saddened notes to her innocent questions.
At a time like this, Flowery would reassure them. He was their leader. But he’s strangely silent. No matter how much they call out to him, he remains wordless.
Yellow frets in his arms. Blue doesn't know what words other than the usual can calm his worries. He tries to call out to Flowery again. He suspects it has something to do with that taped stem that everyone gradually takes note of.
When night passes into dawn, and most of the flowers have retreated into the quiet realm of rest: when only Blue remains, that is when Flowery finally moves. Not traditionally; Blue can feel the way his friend and dancing partner stirs.
“Flowery? Are you there?"
It takes the golden flower a moment to register his words. Through forcibly quiet laboured breaths, he says “Ah, Blue… is everyone alright?"
“Yes, of course," Blue reassures, "And you, dear friend? You sound pained.”
Flowery gives a harsh laugh bordering hacking, "I'm quite alright. Just… tired, after that last adventure. Shame it's… all over, huh?"
Blue nods, “Certainly, but even if it was just for a little, I got to live it. And I even had some wonderful people watch my dream." The sweet melancholic tone to his words are not lost on Flowery, who smiles.
“I'm happy… to hear."
He can tell there is something Flowery abstains from telling him. Flowery trusts himself and the other adults with almost everything. Having them know makes things easier, should their leader ever be incapacitated. That was what they'd agreed upon in the dark world.
“Tell me, what is ailing you, Flowery?"
The golden flower hesitates. Their exchange is made up of silence, yet Blue hears it nonetheless: the conflicted pause.
"... I'm alright, Blue, just a little flesh wound. Nothing a flower can't regrow without some meristems,” Flowery settles on eventually. The chipped laugh at the end of his sentence rings painfully.
Blue frowns, "Did something happen after we…?" Concern starts to trickle like a freezing waterfall down his stem, leaving the edge of his petals chilly, “Flowery. What happened?”
It's dawn. By now, Asgore would be at the shop, taking care of them as he always did. Blue hasn't even heard the backdoor click - a sound so resonant in the lonely quiet of this shop - let alone the big, rumbling steps of their caretaker.
There’s only silence, a distinct lack of sound they all hate.
Blue knows this is very strange, “Flowery?" He speaks in a low mutter to avoid waking Yellow. He reminisces the memory of holding and petting Yellow to imagine himself doing it now, leaning protectively over the yellow flower.
“... Hm?" The other's slow, sluggish response sparks a bead of nerves.
Before Blue can ask where Asgore is, the door finally opens. It's the back door, but instead of their caretaker's heavy footsteps, they're lighter, more cautious ones. To Blue’s surprise, Susie quietly closes the door.
He resigns himself to watching quietly as she waters each of them, listening carefully to her words, “Hey guys. I don't know if you can hear me, but I'm here.”
The other flowers begin to wake around this time, as sunlight streams through the trees and spills into the dark floors of their pitiful home. Yellow in his arms stirs awake, “Wha… Susie? Whatz Susie doin’ here? Wherz Asgore?”
“I don't know, but she's watering us for the time being. Perhaps on his behalf? Was he hurt?"
“Flowery! Tell us!" Seth calls out from their side of the room. Blue can feel Green nodding firmly, stressed creases to their petals.
Orange almost paws at the glass with the way she presses against it desperately, “Big bro Flowery! C’mon, why are you so quiet? Did something happen?!"
The quiet, stifled coughing catches their attention, silencing all of them when it grows into harsh, jerking hacking.
" … Big bro? You ok?” Orange asks hesitantly.
Flowery waves them all off, “Of course, I'm perfectly… fine. Just… tired.”
Seth points to the bandage around his stem of a torso, “Then what's with… the tape?”
"... Got a little hurt after everything ended, nothing serious though." The way his voice falters says anything but.
Susie's words are what snap their attention from their smiling friend, “I promise I'll find him for you guys… until then, I'll take care of you all. So just, hang in there.”
"... Find who?” Aqua asks innocently, her oversized sleeve held to her mouth if she still had hands.
They all know, by this point. They've realised it. Flowery keeps quiet. Orange bites back tears. Seth rubs at their eyes. Yellow hides his watery gaze under his hat. Green turns away in misery.
Blue sighs deeply, an aching wound bleeding, “... Asgore. He's missing, isn't he, Flowery?”
Flowery gives a weak hum of confirmation.
The flowers erupt into a cacophony of chaos. Blue can hear Orange wailing through Yellow and Seth's panic. Flowery tries to get their attention but his laboured breaths steal his usually calming voice.
So Blue quickly takes that role before he can strain himself, "Everyone, please. We’ll be okay. We have Susie taking care of us, yes? She and Kris will find Asgore quickly, so that everything can go back to how it was. Let's all stay calm and not worry Flowery, yes? He's very tired right now."
The chaos dies down into a series of acceptance of varying degrees: a sniffle to Orange's voice; a distinct flavour of sadness to Green’s wordless agreement; Yellow quietly taking in Blue’s words rather than thanking him as he usually would.
Blue sighs, azure petals leaning over to pet the other flower, who leans into his touch.
“... Thanks, Blue," Flowery coughs out, evidently in pain.
Blue simply smiles sadly, “No worries, my friend. Just rest, and get better, alright?”
Flowery hums again, but his fading voice makes Blue wonder if he really heard him. He can tell the golden flower is asleep before their conversation is over.
Blue leans into his embrace of Yellow to calm the waves of anguish flowing through his stem. He has a feeling… that Flowery's transient waking moments are a sign of impending doom.
Still, he holds onto hope.
They survived so long, surely things will be alright. After all, this was a comedy, not a tragedy.
Hope would find them again, even as seven, delicate, unmoving flowers.
—
Green has always been a quiet person. But that doesn't mean they liked the quiet.
They preferred the sounds of their friends, their liveliness as they bickered or just talked. That was their favourite sound, alongside hearing Asgore happy. But neither of those were happening now.
They hadn't heard Flowery in a while.
They missed his voice.
If only they still had hands to cook with… they'd make his favourite, and then they'd cook together. Flowery always had a way of connecting with each and everyone one of their interests. He cooked and baked with Green, in the short time they had.
Watching Susie take care of him, of the weak golden flower, the way she holds him up like he's too weak to stand up, limp in her hands, it hurts Green deeply.
If only they could cook again, one last time, to heal Flowery.
But… their dreams were over. Now they could only sit in silence as they did all these years.
“Hey man, you can't go all limp on me. I know the Knight did a number on you, but you gotta hang on. Until we get Asgore back.”
Susie's words send them all into an eruption of chaos.
“The KNIGHT got to him?!" Seth all but yells, clutching their hair in a frenzy.
Green can only watch in dismay when Orange starts to cry; when Yellow hides his watery gaze under his hat, teeth gnawing on his lips; as horror paints Blue’s usually smooth expression, his smile fading into a wobbling grimace; as they themselves clutch their aching body;
As Flowery resumes to lying limp in his case, even after being watered and given light. Despite all the noise in their heads, he's yet to stir it even wake up.
The tape around his stem holds strong.
Flowery doesn't.
There's nothing any of them can say to soothe the way his sentence hangs over their heads.
But Susie, always so sweet and loving, tries anyways, “It's gonna be okay. We're… we're gonna find Asgore. It won't be in vain, yeah?” Almost as if she can feel their anguish, she tries to reassure them, "Don't worry guys. We've all seen how tough he is. He'll make it through this.”
They all fall silent, temporarily quelled by her words.
"Big bro…” Orange calls out.
No response.
Green's pulse picks up in pace, leaves bristling a little.
Aqua tries next, “Flowery?"
“... Hm?" Flowery cracks an eye open, half lidded and deep with bags, a pale pallor to his skin, blemished yellow nothing like gold.
“... You fought with the knight?" Seth asks quietly.
Flowery huffs a tiny laugh, “Ah… well, you could say I… ‘tried’, but… it didn't amount to much. Heh," his chortle cuts off into a groan.
“... Did they kidnap Asgore too?" Aqua asks sadly.
“Yeah… I couldn't stop them… I'm sorry…” Flowery admits it quietly, like he's ashamed.
"Don't apologise, Flowery. We only wish we could have been there to help," Blue states, melancholy in his gaze and words that resonate with them all.
Orange bangs on her glass in protest, "Yeah! I bet if it had been all of us—if you'd been in your Omega form, you would have won!”
“No no… I'm glad… none of you were there… you all—" he chokes on his words, panting like he's exhausted. Green thinks he'll probably sleep again soon, "You all… need to be there for Asgore… when he comes back."
Green doesn't speak. They used signs in the dark world. They hope their words can still resonate with everyone now.
‘You too.’
Flowery lifts his head in their direction, face twisting from surprise to a painted smile, “Yeah, you're right Green. Me too…”
He lays back down, laboured breaths replaced by quieter, deeper snores.
For now, at least, he's alright. And they are too, waiting for the day their caretaker will return.
—
Flowery will be okay because he says so, right? Aqua believes that. He said so, and so did Blue. He just needs to rest.
If only Aqua still had a body to play with, then she could cheer Flowery up once he was better. And if Asgore was still here… she'd play with him too. She wished she’d gotten to play more, smile more teeth at him.
It all went so fast. She had so much fun but before she knew it her dream was over.
“Flowery?"
The golden flower takes a moment to respond, “...Hm?"
“Uuuuu! You're awake!" She chimes happily, a giddy giggle on her tongue.
Flowery indulged her with a faint chuckle, “Yeah, I'm awake Aqua. What's wrong?"
Aqua hums, bouncing side to side in her case, “Will we ever get to play again?" She misses it already, the joy of hopping on others, or ACTing with the humans, the banter between them all with bodies instead of quietly shared words.
Flowery's silence dampens her spirits a little, "... I don't think so. Sorry Aqua.”
"... Oh,” Aqua frowns. She pouts, sitting still, an ache scratching at the surface of boredom that plagues her.
"... But, I'm sure… when Asgore's back… he'll play with you. He knows you love him now, so he'll… play plenty."
“... He will?" He'd brush them off during their only time together. He was busy. He had things to do. Aqua wanted to make him smile while they played.
"Yeah, he will. So just… be patient, alright? And this time, he'll know we're here, and he'll call us… by our names. Won't it be… wonderful?” There's a hint of something wobbling on the edge of Flowery’s voice Aqua can't quite place.
… “Promise?" She's getting bored already, sitting around, doing nothing. She taps her toes on dirt but it doesn't entertain her.
“... Promise, Aqua… just be… a little more patient… okay?”
If waiting meant she'd see him smile again; if waiting meant she could play with Asgore again… then she'll wait a little longer, patiently, “Okay."
Tranquil silence. Flowery coughs a bit, petals drooping. He looks pained.
“... Do you want to play, Flowery? To cheer you up. I don't have teeth to smile with but we can—”
“Aqua." Seth cuts in sharply, their tone rough and quivering, "Leave Flowery be. He needs to rest… or he'll—"
“Now, now, Seth, there's no need to be so harsh. Aqua's just trying to help, okay? Everything will be alright,” Blue serenely washes away the growing tension from the purple flower with his gentle words that sway like a butterfly's wings.
"Yea, don't make me tie ye up like a criminell, Seth,” Yellow adds in. Aqua can almost see him pointing a gun at Seth, "Ye still owe good ol’ Green a couples of bucks, ya know?”
Green nods, staring directly across the room.
"G-Guys! This is serious! And I don't—I don't have any money right now!" Seth growls at them all, at the laughter that still makes them smile.
Through it all, Aqua hears a small chuckle from the golden flower in the centre.
She smiles.
—
He's comfortable even in the dark and quiet. In Blue’s arms, Yellow might as well be in heaven.
He'd been surprised to see a new face in his little glass home, but not upset.
Then he’d seen the flimsy bandage around Flowery torso and panicked, a cold darkness overtaking him immediately.
Blue reassured them all, even if he must have been just as worried. Yellow listened to his erratic heart as he soothed them all, hiding under his hat’s shadow. He should be helping Blue calm the youngins down, not barely holding himself together at the site of his sparring partner in tatters
Deep down, he’s too busy broiling in the shame of being a criminell. He should have been there to help. Is it his crime that he wasn’t there? Does he need to be punished? Oh, it’s all his fault, isn’t?
He wants to turn to Blue and cry in anguish over it, to hear his partner say it isn’t his fault even if it is. But Blue is quiet. They all are. They’re resting at a time Yellow can’t stop thinking about the wilting golden flower.
He stays up for Flowery’s sake, to make sure his breathing doesn’t suddenly stop. Yellow had quickly understood the consequence of the Knight’s attack on their friend, even if he was naive and slow at times. He stays up so the youngins don’t have to worry. He and Blue take turns, sometimes with Green.
Each slumber Flowery falls into lasts longer than the last. There’s always a fear that there won’t be a next; only the cold realisation…
Yellow swallows the nervous pit creasing up his petals, “Flowery? Buddy?”
“... Hm? Yellow?”
He breathes a sigh of relief, “Nothin’, pardner, just checkin’ on ya. How’se you feeling?”
“Tired… and in pain, but fresh otherwise,” it’s a poor joke that falls flat for both of them. Nothing looked fresh about a discoloured stem and weak petals.
“Well… if ya say so, buddy.”
They both know the truth. Most of the Flowers know by now. Only the youngins like Orange and Aqua were still in the dark.
“... Hey, partner?"
Yellow perks up immediately, “What, friend?"
Flowery shuffles to look towards him, smile strained in the reflection of his glass, expression scrunched up, and still so charming through it all, “You and I both know… I'm not gonna make it.”
Yellow swallows roughly, "D-don’t say that buddy… you—you darn tootin’ can!" His voice wavers with doubt despite his words. At Flowery's abrupt hacking - each cough a painful wheeze - Yellow winces as if the pain is wracking him. He might as well feel it, even if they're all just flowers.
“...” Once the coughing subsides, Flowery continues, “Just… watch over them for me. Over Orange, Aqua, Seth. You, Blue and Green can do that for me, yeah?”
Yellow grits his quivering jaw. They're a group, the seven of them. They’ve been a silent bunch that only knew each other, Asgore and the idea of a world outside theirs for many years. They were close-nit in that tiny, restrictive world of theirs.
It's always been the seven of them.
It can't be six now. There weren't six of them in the bouquet, there were seven.
If only Yellow could do something. If he wasn't so useless and punishable.
Instead, he's a delicate flower trapped by his nature.
Not to be a cowboy; nor to serve justice.
But to sit still, as the world moved on.
“... Ya got it, pardner.”
—
They know what's really going on. Yellow and Blue are always trying to steer away from it, because they're the adults and they like to take care of the difficult stuff, but Seth knows. Seth has studied and they're no genius but they learnt a lot in their time as a human.
They know Flowery is dying.
He has a cut stem. Flowers already can't survive away from their plants, but with diligent care they can. Diligent care that Asgore used to give them; diligent care he can't give anymore because he's gone. Even if he did come back, it'd be too late.
The way Flowery droops against his glass case, barely supported by it; the way golden fades to ashy yellow… he's not going to make it.
Their petals grow wet. They can't cry but it feels like they are. It feels like they have eyes that tears slip from, and a heart that hurts when in anguish, just like humans did.
They're all still such powerless flowers. And this time, they're watching one of their own die.
“Seth?"
Seth blinks away the memory of crying, “Y-yeah?" Their voice falters embarrassingly.
It's Flowery that calls out to them, “What's… wrong?”
Seth startles, “Ah—nothing! Go back to sleep, you need to recuperate!”
Recuperate. As if Flowery could easily regrow the damage done to him without any help.
“It's okay… I've had enough sleep,” he says through slow, deliberate breaths. Seth thinks he's trying to hide how difficult it is to breathe.
They swallow the growing lump in their throat, “... Are you… are you feeling okay?”
Stupid question! Of course he isn't feeling okay! What kind of question is that?
"Yeah, fine as a fern, Seth,”
… Why isn't there more to be done? Why do they have to wait so powerlessly? What was all that studying for? If they were still a human, could they do more? They couldn't do anything for Asgore in the dark world; of course there was nothing to be done here…
What a waste of time, waiting all those years and living a short dream, only for it all to end like this.
Did they even make Asgore happy?
"Flowery… do you—” their voice falters under the burden of silence, a familiar weight none of them liked, “Do you think we made Asgore happy? I… I only got to read him a few stories before he…"
Only a few pages before he had to go. He'd been kind about it. But it still felt so cold. They wouldn't get the chance to read to him every again like he did for them.
“... I think… I think he was. He—” Flowery's quiet ruminating is interrupted by coughs that make Seth wince, "... He thought we were lovely and… he said he had to go back… to take care of us. I bet he… loved your stories, Seth."
Tears pricked the edges of their petals, warmth pooling, unlike the fresh water they needed as flowers. It feels awful, to cry without tears, to be a flower that can't express anything, to be a flower after being a human.
They still had so much more to learn, to try.
“... I wanted to read him more stories. One wasn't enough. I—I wanted to—”
Flowery gives her a sad smile through the reflection of his glass case, "I know. I wanted more too. There… was so much I wanted to give. But just to give a little… we should rejoice in that. He still loved it. That's… that's enough for me."
It's not enough. It never will be. But it's all they have.
So they'll just learn to treasure those moments, the tiny, transient time they got to spend repaying Asgore back with stories unbound, just a little.
They'll treasure the fleeting time with Flowery, as another petal falls limp.
—
Orange loves her big bro. Orange loves her big sis too. They haven't met before. They have to.
So she tells him as much.
Flowery takes a moment to respond. A moment too long, where her heart pumps so fast she thinks it echoes, “... Big bro?"
He was just sleeping. He did that a lot, because he was tired from the fight. He'd get up and answer soon. Orange swallows nervously, eyes prickling with warmth.
"... Ah, sorry, Orange… you called?”
A rush of relief makes her weak, wilting against her glass, "Big bro! You scared me.”
Flowery chuckles out an apology, “I'm just really tired these days. You were saying?" He sounds more lively than usual.
Orange perks up, “You haven't met big sis pink yet!"
Flowery raises an eyebrow, “Big… sis?"
“Yeah!" Orange nods, “She's not a flower but she's still welcome like us, and everyone here loves her. You need to meet her!”
"Oh… I see. Where is she now?"
Orange thinks, “Uh… uhm, I think she…” right, she said she'd spend her last moments in their world with them all before going. She's already gone, “... She went with Susie and the others…"
“... I see. I'm sure she's happy there, huh?"
Orange hums.
“Maybe you could visit her for a day or two… Susie could take you," Flowery suggests, in all his wisdom as her big bro.
Orange immediately lights up, "I could! And you could too! You could finally meet her! If only we could tell Susie…” her mood sours at the reminder that none of them can communicate so openly anymore. She misses her human mouth.
"Maybe… Susie will get it. Someone might think it… and give us a chance," she knows he's trying to cheer her up. He always does. He's her super cool big bro, who takes his attacks correctly and praises and comforts her, and he's so proud of her all the time.
She loves her big bro. She doesn't want to say goodbye, ever.
…
It's just them right now.
Somehow, always a stellar big bro, Flowery can tell there’s something else on her mind, “What’s wrong… Orange?” The pause in his words, the way his breathing strains more than before: he’s getting tired.
“... It’s nothing,” she settles on, crossing her arms petulantly, looking pointedly away.
“C’mon, you can tell me anything… Big bro’s always here for you.”
She bites her quivering lip. That’s what he said often. But now that didn’t look so true.
Still, craving his kind words, she spills like a dam anyways, “I wish I was braver! If I was then maybe—maybe Asgore wouldn’t have been taken away, and–and…” The tears escape her eyes no matter how hard she squeezes them shut, a sob in her voice, “And maybe you wouldn’t be hurt! I was so useless!”
He lets her wail first. He waits, like he’s taking in her words carefully. Through her cries, her big bro speaks up, “You know, Orange… I felt so useless too. All this time.”
She stares in disbelief. Big bro Flowery? Who could do anything? He always knew what to say to them, what to do. He was the smartest out of all of them! “That’s not true big bro! You’re super cool! You only lost to the Knight because we weren’t there!”
Flowery chuckles, “That’s really sweet, but… that’s not really true. All these years… I couldn't do anything for Asgore. And when it came down to it, I couldn’t save him. I’m just a weak, useless flower.”
She tries to deny it through her muffled cries.
“But you know what Raly said?”
The mention of the green, hatless rat makes her blood boil between vicious anger and grief, “I don’t wanna hear it! I don’t like him, he’s a bully!”
“Hey now,” Flowery laughs, a sound so fleeting and warm, “He’s a good kid. I know he was a bit mean to you, but he tried to save me, you know?”
Orange sobs.
“He said, ‘Just taking care of us gave Asgore the strength to keep going.’ All these years of watching uselessly… may have not been so useless. When he comes back…” for once, his voice cracks, like he’s on the verge of tears. He turns away from her, “Orange, you, and everyone else, can still do that for Asgore... None of you are useless, okay?” His words are thick and wet with emotion she can place.
Orange nods reluctantly, a cry breaking from her throat.
“Don’t ever call yourselves useless. You being there was enough… and it always will be. Okay?”
“... Okay!” She tries to swallow her sobs to no avail, “And you’re not useless too big bro! You’re gonna make it for Asgore so he can keep taking care of all of us! Right?!”
Flowery doesn’t answer. His shoulders shake, breathing heavy, quivering - a cry under his breath like he wants to reassure her but can’t without breaking down.
Orange isn’t ready to say goodbye to her big bro. She never will be.
—
Flowery is dying. A petal of his is so close to falling, holding on by thin wisps of tissue, glistening in sunset light like stars of hope.
Hope he desperately clings to. Hope that is fading every day. Hope that everyone is losing. Hope that even Susie can't cling onto.
They keep asking him how he's doing, how he's faring, if he's alright. And all he can do is lie through the skin of his teeth as pain courses through him, every inch of himself growing numb with the creeping touch of death.
He could be saved… if Asgore were still here, but Flowery couldn't even save the man he owed everything too, loved so much he'd give up everything and give it all.
Asgore's haunted terror still plagues his uneasy slumber, a frozen expression of distraught horror as he was carried away, just out of reach of Flowery…
How foolish to think he could take on the knight. He knew, deep down. No matter how much he preached the power of friendship, no matter what stats he had on paper, no matter how strong he presented himself… it was all an illusion.
He's just a weak, useless flower that's dying. A flower that was only supposed to last a day. Even in the realm of fantasy, they're all so fleeting and powerless.
… He wants to see Asgore again. To see the man's bright smile renewed. To feel his kindness, his love for them and not the past. Flowery thought that Asgore wanted the past, would want everything he lost and that Flowery and the Flowers could give it to him.
But no matter how much he told himself Asgore would love their world, it wasn't for him. He had a life in the light world that they were a part of. And if it meant being a delicate flower again, then Flowery would give up sentience for him. He would fulfill Asgore's wish in any way.
He just wanted to see their caretaker happy. He wanted to repay all that kindness back. He still had so much to give. They all did…
If Flowery does survive long enough to see Asgore again… that'd be enough for him. They had their chance. They had their dream. They lived fulfilled lives no matter how short. They paid back what they could.
Asgore knew now, how loved he was, even without his family or friend by his side. He knew of their love. After all these years of unheard love, he finally knew.
That was enough for Flowery.
Enough to close his eyes.