Frisk didn't, of course. Instead, they seemed glad to hear the voice and even started walking towards it. "What are you doing, Frisk? I said run! We're obviously in trouble, and this is a situation where if you wanted to, you could just flee! Can you still see the buttons? Flee! Flee-"

"Hey, I know you," said the owner of the voice.

Flowey glanced up at such a towering being in bright red and noticed a silent partner beside them. "Frisk, these guys are always trying to kill me. We should really leave-"

"Kill you? Like, why would we do that?" The former Royal Guard asked, looking honestly puzzled. "We love this kid! They helped us accept ourselves. And our love."

His partner nodded stoically, grabbing his hand.

Frisk squeaked and blushed with joy. Flowey raised an eyebrow, then rolled his eyes.

"Plus, like, Target is super inclusive right now and stuff," explained the first Guard. "They're one of the few shops in the area that's like, totally hiring monsters without discrimination. It's actually sort of, I don't know, cool? Haha, yeah."

The more Flowey thought about it, the less intimidating these monsters seemed. In place of the usual intimidating Royal Guard uniforms were bright red shirts and khaki pants and despite their bulky appearances they didn't look fierce at all anymore. Unbelievably, they were both wearing name tags.

"'Hi, my name is… ...01.'" He read. "'Hi, my name is 02.' Wow, that's a change for you both."

"I guess," 01 admitted. "But ever since we went free, we're like, opening up a new chapter of our lives. It's pretty cool being able to be bros who also love each other a lot, haha. With fancy new jobs. We don't even kill anyone at this one. Pretty weird."

"What, not anybody? Don't you ever miss it?" He stared at them with awe.

"Like, no, little flower bro. We don't usually want to kill anything, I dunno."

"Weird," he said. "Not even the really terrible people?"

"Of course not, man. The customer's always right."

"...01." Their partner finally spoke.

"Oh, yeah," 01 said, as if it were obvious. "Listen, guys, someone's looking for you right now. We were charged with looking for you and bringing you back. Weird how we're always looking for you, huh?"

Frisk nodded with a certain understanding, following both of them happily through the maze of people and wheeled carts. Occasionally, they would give another monster a knowing glance; Flowey suspected that they, too, knew everyone in the entire Underground.

Not as well as he did, though. Not nearly.

Unfortunately, the exhaustion set in again almost as soon as Toriel came back into view. It was pretty funny how scared she looked still; as soon as her eyes landed on both of them, she rushed up to greet them again. "Oh, thank goodness! I was so worried."

She crushed Frisk in a hug. This meant he was crushed, too.

"Of course I thought to text you, but, well, the darn thing won't work up here! So I was looking all over for you both, and I simply couldn't find you. Luckily, I ran into these gentlemen, and they helped me locate you. I am so relieved."

"Toriel," he muttered. "You're crushing both of us."

"Oh, I'm sorry!" She pulled away. "I am just so happy to see you both again. Thank you so much for your help, 02 and… ...01."

"It's no problem, ma'am," said 01 awkwardly. "But er, if it wouldn't be too much trouble, would you like, mind… ...filling out a customer survey? Target is like, really interested in everyone's individual experiences with its overall brand, and like, we're really trying to make a home together here on the surface."

"Certainly," Toriel said politely. "I have had the most wonderful time here. Well, up until I lost my child and their friend, I suppose. But these things happen, don't they?"

"I guess," 01 said. "But uh, glad to hear you had a good Target experience overall!"

"Oh, it's been lovely," she assured him. ""Just wonderful! I do have one minor complaint, if you do not mind that."

"...Is it about the snails?"

"Er, yes," Toriel said. "How on earth did you know?"

"Yeah, we've like, been getting complaints about that a lot," 01 said. "It like, turns out that Target doesn't actually carry snails? I know that's like, not really what you want to hear, and I'm totally sorry."

"Really! That is so strange."

"Right? 02 was like, totally ranting about it the other day."

It was difficult to imagine 02 ranting about anything. The guy hadn't even said a word outside of his partner's name, and they'd known him for awhile. Still, something must have shifted ever so slightly in his calm demeanor, because 01 patted him on the back gently.

"I know, bro," he said. "I know. Sorry about that. It just gets him all riled up, y'know?"

Even Toriel was looking at him with a raised eyebrow, and she'd scarcely known him. "I… I completely understand. But it is not your fault at all. Do you know where I may purchase snails, if not from here? This is my first experience with a shop like this. I don't quite know my way around!"

"Well, like," the former Guard spoke after a moment of thought. "We keep hearing that there are like, competitors somehow? Like, other shops that want to do a better job than we do at selling items?"

"My goodness, really? Why do they want that?"

"Like, we have no idea," 01 confessed. "The world above ground is still like, really new to us too, so we don't get it either. But uh, you might want to check one of those out for an authentic snail experience or whatever in the future. One of them's a wall or something."

"A wall… How odd! Well, thank you so much for your help regardless! I will be more than happy to recommend you to-"

"Listen," Flowey moaned, eyes heavy all over again. "We don't have all day. Can we please go now?"

Toriel paused and remembered herself. "Oh, yes! Certainly. I just need to pay for these items."

"Items?" Flowey asked. "You actually bought some things? I thought they didn't have what you wanted."

"Oh, they didn't," Toriel responded cheerfully. "But just look at all the things they did have!"

Flowey leaned over to peer into the red cart. He was surprised to find that there was a vast assortment of items inside, all stacked haphazardly on top of one another and with no obvious order. A lot of the items were unrecognizable to him. Some of them, maybe, were for babies or dogs.

"Yeah," he spoke after a moment. "That's… ...really… ...something. Did you at least get actual breakfast?"

"Of course I did, dear. I wouldn't go to all this trouble not to get breakfast!"

"You know what? I'll take your word for it."

"Hold on just a moment." Toriel did some peering of her own into his flowerpot. "What is all this?"

"It's Frisk's fault," Flowey blurted out in defense. "They're the one who took me over to see all the candy, blame them-"

"Candy?"

Frisk looked down at him, clearly anxious to see what Toriel would think. It was all their fault, anyway; if they'd just taken off without approval or permission, this wouldn't even be a problem. They were so reliant on what other people thought and had such strange moral standards. Flowey couldn't relate.

"Butterscotch candy!" Toriel exclaimed. "Oh, I'm not at all surprised. Of course you can have some, my child." She was positively beaming. "I didn't know they had such a thing. And… ...what's this other one? Popping candy?"

"It was Frisk's idea," Flowey continued to insist.

"'Taste the explosion,'" she read, raising an eyebrow. "This sounds dangerous. And much more like you, Flowey."

"Frisk picked it for me!" He protested, then glared at Frisk in response. "I tried to see if humans had weaponized candy, and they said no. Talk to them about it. I just wanted the Warheads."

"...Warheads? Oh my." She looked genuinely surprised now, then turned to Frisk. "Child, you know you cannot let Flowey near such things. I'm surprised; you should know much better. And humans should not sell such things in shops or put them in reach of children."

Frisk was looking embarrassed and shaking their head.

"Uh, Ma'am, don't mean to interrupt," said 01. "But like, we've had some confusion over this lately too, and it like, turns out that the candies don't actually explode or do any war stuff or whatever?"

"Really?"

"Yeah. I know it's like, kind of weird," he sympathized. "But it turns out that's just like, how humans name things. We don't get it either."

"How strange," Toriel mused. "Well, I suppose Frisk would never put us in harm's way…"

They nodded their head enthusiastically in response. Flowey nearly gagged.

"All right, then. Flowey is allowed his popping candy. But I have no idea why you'd want such a thing! Butterscotch candy is clearly the better choice."

"Pfft. I don't even care. I just want to go."

"You know how impatient children can be," she murmured as she rummaged around in her purse. "Now, how many gold coins do you need?"

"I'm not a-"

But Frisk was giggling.

"Oh, shut up, Frisk."

"Yeah, we're all trying to adjust, Ma'am," 01 was saying. "Sorry about this."

"It's no problem at all!"

After a minute of some kind of transaction, it seemed like Toriel was finally ready to go. Flowey examined her items with an even more critical eye as they headed towards the exit, eyeing several snail-related toys he suspected were for Frisk. Frisk barely even liked toys; Frisk was barely interested at all! He thought this was unfair, just like everything else. Still couldn't see the breakfast, though, but at least it was probably better than snails.

Someone was there to bid them farewell on their way out. They could recognize them from the MTT Resort.

"Thank you so much for choosing to shop at Target," they said. "Have a nice day!"

Frisk smiled kindly at them as they went, still carrying a grouchy flower.

"Oh," they said. "I know you-"

"Yeah, everyone does," Flowey chirruped. "And don't worry - we won't!"

When the automatic doors shut, he finally felt free again.

In a way.

He still wasn't allowed to budge, but as they walked home with Frisk carrying him and Toriel pushing the red cart full of junk, he found he didn't really want to. His head was remembering how heavy it felt, occasionally swaying and leaning on Frisk again. At least this way he was getting right in their face.

"Flowey, I'm so sorry you're so tired, but we will be home soon."

"Don't worry 'bout it," he slurred. "Flowers don't need-"

He was cut off again by the utter terror of crossing the street. This time, though, he had Frisk, and they walked purposefully and silently without any fear. This time, his eyes were frozen on Toriel's cart, which made the most hideous noises on the asphalt alongside the sound of the human cars, and it was just awful. This time, she looked just as terrified as him, but they got through to the other side without incident.

"Golly," he breathed. "I really hate that."

"We all do, dear," Toriel admitted.

Frisk looked unfazed, walking along peacefully and carefully and still smiling at both of them with reassurance. The flower was able to pay more careful attention to little details to keep from getting bored on the way home, and he noticed something about the way Frisk walked.

"You still avoid the leaves, huh?"

Frisk nodded, sidestepping to avoid a leaf that had fallen off a tree somewhere. It was kind of like the Ruins, in a way. He knew Toriel would be familiar with the sight; leaves were always falling off of the tree she'd had at home. He wondered why there were so many around here, and mostly shrugged it off.

"Do you like stepping in the leaves?" He asked, wearing a mischievous grin.

Frisk nodded.

"Then why don't you?"

All they did was shake their head, avoiding another pile on the sidewalk.

He frowned. "I just don't understand you, Frisk."

It was getting harder to keep himself upright again. Occasionally, he would even have to stifle a yawn, which was just embarrassing. Frisk carried him along without complaint or comment, thankfully, but he hated for them to see him in such a state of weakness. Normally he would've been too repulsed to allow it to happen, but everything he saw and felt was just too heavy for one flower… ...for one anything.

When they finally arrived back at the house, Toriel went to work immediately making breakfast. Frisk set him up on the usual windowsill and happily helped her with whatever they could manage, looking pleased. They unpacked groceries together, and Flowey knew it was the perfect picture of bonding and just couldn't stomach it.

He couldn't even pay attention to what was being made, mostly staring into the distance or blinking a little too long. There was light in the kitchen, but it felt cozier than it had outside, and his mind was wandering in strange ways. It couldn't help but drift back to all that Alphys had known and said, even with all of the different and stupid misadventures of the day, and as usual he sat with the knowledge alone. He wondered when she would greet him again, or what she would say.

He wondered what she would do to keep her promise.

"Welcome back, losers," Undyne called off in the distance. "You were gone for awhile! Is everything okay?"

"Oh, yes," Toriel tried to shout back, but her voice was so soft. "Everything's just fine, dear. We have a surprise for you both, so don't come out yet. Did you sleep well?"

"A surprise? That's awesome!" Undyne shouted. "And yeah, I slept like a baby! But stronger. Alphys has been in her lab all day, though!"

Her lab. Huh.

His tired eyes drifted towards the door she'd walked out of earlier.

"That is all good news, I suppose."

"Yeah! Just trying to figure out how to practice fighting without wrecking our house now!"

"Be careful!"

"Pff, of course I-"

There was a big crash in the distance.

"...Oops."

Toriel winced and sighed. "Come here, Frisk. Help me see if this is the right temperature."

Obediently, they did. He was too bored of her cheer and humming and Frisk's… ...ways, and was remained focused on the lab (when he could focus on anything). "What's she working on?" He tried. His voice sounded more tired than he'd wanted it to.

Undyne scoffed. "Like I know! She's always working on geeky stuff I don't understand. It's so great! I totally support her passion!" There was another crash. "Whoops."

He rolled his eyes. Even if they tried to keep him here, they'd probably have to move soon. That, at least, could serve as a small comfort. He wondered how many of her own personal items she'd have to replace. What an idiot.

Eventually, breakfast was ready. Frisk and Toriel looked equally proud of it, and Toriel sat at the table looking confident in what she had made. He didn't get to see it up close until Frisk brought him over, but by now he felt so out of it, he almost didn't register it.

"Undyne," Toriel called. "Our surprise is ready! Fetch Alphys too, please."

"Can do!"

If he could only stay upright…

(He heard her bolting down the stairs.)

Long enough to…

("Hey, Alphys, guess what! We have a surprise! Yeah, Toriel did it all. Come on!")

...see what she was up to…

They both entered the room.

"Wow! Breakfast! Thanks so much, Toriel. It looks delicious!" Undyne yelled with the usual dramatic flair as she took a seat at the table. "But you know, I could've made you guys breakfast, if you wanted."

"Yeah," Alphys murmured, clearly out of it. "It looks… ...um, great. Thanks, Toriel. Your Majesty. I mean, uh-"

"You are most welcome," she said graciously.

"But um, Undyne, all we had are noodles. I don't think that would've been a very good breakfast."

"Yeah, you're right," she admitted. "I guess it was a good thing after all! What does Frisk think? It's human food, right?"

Frisk gave an enthusiastic thumbs up.

Flowey glanced at it. It was just oatmeal, but it felt so warm, and the steam rose up to his face again. It had been difficult not to feel cozy before, but now it was almost impossible, and he looked around the table. "Well, I think it looks terrible," he announced. "I'm not eating it."

Then he fell asleep for a second.

"Oh, dear," a voice said distantly. "Flowey?"

He heard it and could not respond.

"Frisk, make sure he doesn't get it all over," Toriel was instructing.

He felt their hands on him, trying to keep him upright.

"Urgh," he mumbled. "What?" He blinked back into existence. "What were we talking about? Something stupid, right?"

Alphys was looking at him with sympathy, and he could see how tired she was. Maybe even more than him.

Undyne wasn't, sneering beside her and looking suspicious. "Yeah, right," she laughed. "No one's buying this, right? He's just tricking us! Flowers don't need to sleep."

"That's right," he agreed faintly, as he nodded off again. "Mm."

"I don't know about that, Undyne," Alphys whispered. "He seems really tired."

"Pfft. Hey, wait a minute, so do you. Alphys, did you not sleep again?"

"Well, I've just been-I've been working on some things."

"Oh, Alphys," Undyne chided affectionately, "when will you learn that you have to get some rest? I mean, look at this stupid plant. I still think he's faking it, but you gotta sleep, okay?"

"All right, Undyne."

"Okay. I care about you, and I don't want you to be tired."

"Okay."

"But eat breakfast first, 'cuz Toriel made it, and it looks good."

"Yeah. Listen, um, does anyone want to carry Flowey to bed, or-"

"Don't need to," he mumbled. "I don't have a bed. Plus, I'm up." He perked up. "See? Told you guys. I'm fine!"

Frisk was looking at him with concern; so was Toriel. He hated it.

"I'm fine! Totally awake. I'm totally, totally…"

He drooped again, all petals drooping with him.

"I think not," Toriel said, soft but stern. She must have picked him up. "I won't hear anything more about it, either. You need some good, solid rest. I will put you up in Frisk's room, where it's nice and quiet, all right?"

"I'm not even tired," he tried. "I'm just resting my eyes."

"I am sure you are. You've had a long day."

She felt so warm and soft in a way he knew, from so long ago. Normally it would have jarred him out of this, but it was too inviting, and he only burrowed deeper into her fur. Later on he would be embarrassed, but right now he felt nothing except exhaustion. He yawned without any care at all.

"I've had lots of long days," he confided in her.

"Oh, yes. I can only imagine…"

"Can't imagine why you'd care."

"I suppose you just look so innocent," she said. "It intrigues me… I don't think it's all bad in there, do you?"

"If you're trying to," he yawned. "If you're trying to change me, don't. We've already done this."

"Have we?"

"Mmhmm."

"Well, then," she said gently as she set him on the windowsill. "We will just have to try again, won't we?"

"No, please," he moaned. "You don't understand…"

But the sleep came, and it was dreamless.

(She was right about being a nice pillow, at least.)

When he woke again, he was staring right into a pair of eyes in the darkness.

He screamed. They screamed.

"Back off," he snarled, his voice still groggy. "I can mangle you beyond recognition if I want to-"

"What? No, no, no," came the voice. "Flowey, it's me! Alphys."

He blinked, his eyes adjusting to the darkness all around. He could tell now. There she was in her dweeby pair of glasses, staring him down like it was her creepy job to do it. "Oh," he muttered, face embarrassed and tone angry. "What the hell are you startling me like that for? Sheesh."

"I was trying really hard not to," she whispered. "You've been out like a light. I couldn't get you to wake up."

"Ugh, really?" He took a look around the room, disoriented, and found Frisk in their sleeping bag on the floor. "Wow. I must've slept for a long time. That's not good."

"Yeah," she confirmed. "Don't worry, though. Toriel kept everyone out of here."

"Except you," he said flatly.

"Except me," she agreed, her face flushed. "But well, um, in my defense it is my house. And I'm not as loud as Undyne. And I needed to get in here for, well, reasons."

"Reasons?" He tilted his head to the side, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. "What reasons are those, Dr. Alphys? Did you just want to see how I sleep? Told you I did it."

"W-Well, um," she stammered quietly, "not exactly. I-I mean, I was curious-"

"Oh my god, you snuck in here just to watch me sleep! You're sick."

"No," she hissed. "Keep it down. Frisk's sleeping."

"You haven't answered my question."

"W-Well, it was just for…" She wrung her hands uncomfortably. "You know. Things."

"Things? Like… like what we talked about things?"

"Y-Yeah. I needed one of your p-petals, so I kind of…"

"What?" He tried to take a glance upward. "Wow, you didn't! You actually plucked one of my petals off? I didn't even give you permission! You're awful!"

"I-I know, but listen-"

"Wait a second." He blinked. "How the fuck did I sleep through that?"

"I have no idea. It was pretty surprising, actually."

"Gosh," he whispered. "You're just lucky it's going to grow back. What do you need it for, anyways? Wait, did you drug me with some kind of sleeping chemicals?"

"What? No!"

"...Are you sure?"

"P-Positive! I'd never do something like that! How would I even live with myself? Or accomplish it at all? That's just horrible!" She was getting worked up.

He laughed. "Okay, I believe you. But wh-"

"I'm trying to get to that," she sputtered. "Honest. L-Look, so in order to fix what happened to you, a-and what made it so miserable…" She took another deep breath in. "We… ...we would have to see wh-what makes it that way, right? And we know you don't have a SOUL, right? So… ...so it's natural to assume that's what makes it that way."

"Well, duh. I don't need an analysis of my petals to figure that out, Dr. Alphys. You really are such a bad-"

"-scientist, right, I get it," she babbled. "And I probably am, but listen. I-In Mew Mew Kissy Cutie, there was this one episode where she thought she got her cat ears in a freak accident, right? And she, um, totally carries all these hidden and deep dark emotions about it, b-because she assumes that it, well, basically makes her a different person, an-and so-"

"Get to the point without the cat ears, please."

"No, wait!" She protested to his surprise. "I-I'm getting there. So anyway, like, um, all the previous seasons we've totally th-thought that Mew Mew was just, well, forever changed! And that's why she felt so u-uncomfortable with her ears, because-"

"Uuuuuugh."

"-because it fundamentally changed who she was, accident or not, from before! A-and she just assumed that, um, because of her cat ears not t-typically found on humans, she could never lead a normal life again, s-so in this episode especially, you feel really bad for her. Well, not you, I know you probably wouldn't, but um-"

"Uuuuuugh…!"

"Right, sorry. So she spends this whole, well, super dramatic character arc after that trying to find out who's responsible for her freak accident! It was actually kind of dark for the series, I kind of thought they might've gone overboard after this, but um. So anyway, then we find out that-"

"'Friendship saves the day?'" He mocked, giggling and looking as stupid as possible. "Yeah, I know how all these things go. Stupid friendship."

"No!" She answered a little too adamantly, flailing. "But that's exactly where I thought they were going with this!"

"Shut up," he growled. "Frisk is sleeping, remember?" He didn't care.

"Oh, yeah," she murmured. "Sorry." She did. "So anyway, th-the point is, we find out after all this searching and stuff-with the help of her friends, I guess-th-that there never was an accident!"

"...What? How does that even make sense?"

"Right? My mind was so blown, and I almost swore off it altogether. But um, see, Mew Mew just thought it was an accident because she had amnesia of her whole life before the beginning of the series! She just a-assumed that someone terrible did this to her, or th-that she was changed this way, but she finds out that she was born with cat ears all along and it's um, really moving and beautiful, the stylistic choices and the music in-"

"I care less and less about this every second, Alphys."

"That's what I'm saying," she elaborated. It was of no use to him. "D-Don't you get it? You're Mew Mew."

"I…" He trailed off. "I'm so insulted right now. That's the worst comparison anyone's ever made."

"N-no, listen! You're Mew Mew! I always thought that I was Mew Mew, I mean, I totally identify with her and Undyne says she can see the resemblance, b-but I don't know if she's just saying that or she really means it." Good lord, she was blushing again. "But well, it doesn't matter, b-because I'm not Mew Mew! You are. D-Don't you see?"

"...Not yet. Are you just here to waste my time, or…?"

"N-Not at all," she said. "I just thought you'd be more excited, but um. I can see how someone who isn't really a fan wouldn't get it."

"...Do you? Do you really see?"

"Yeah, but the point is, um… ...what if your SOUL is like Mew Mew's ears?"

"...Then I'm glad I… ...don't have it anymore? You're really losing me."

"No! I mean, what if we've been looking for the terrible cause of… ...of your lack of a SOUL this whole time, right? A-and we always thought it was me."

He narrowed his eyes even more. "It was you."

"I know," she said. "I know, you don't get what I'm saying."

"Obviously not."

"But what if we've been, um, looking at it wrong, you know? Like Mew Mew? What if we can't fix it the way we've been trying or thinking about or whatever, because we're wrong? What if you're not miserable because you have no SOUL?"

"...That's stupid. You watch too many human animes, Alphys."

"Do I? I mean, yeah, I do, but is it? I mean, think about it, As-Flowey," she trembled. "Just think about this. All I did was inject a flower with determination."

"All you did?" He hissed. "I'm sorry, is that all? You're right, I've been blowing this way out of proportion!"

"Can you just listen? It could've been any flower."

"Yeah, and then someone else would have to listen to you," he sneered. "Boy, aren't I lucky!"

"But it wasn't, Flowey. It was you. It was you, or you wouldn't have come b-back this way. It was you, and that's why you woke up in the garden. Why would that happen?"

"I don't know," he spat. "Why would it? Why would you ruin my life like that, Alphys? Why?"

"Doesn't it seem, I don't know, really weird to you," she continued on, "that it was you? That you specifically came back without a SOUL? How did you do that?"

"I don't know!"

"Your ashes, when you died," she said. "They were all over the flower. They're obviously what brought you back, right? And the determination."

"Yeah, but I still don't-"

"You. They brought you, Asriel Dreemurr, back from the dead. Right?"

"Right, but I don't-"

"Why would they do that," she rambled on, "if you didn't have a SOUL?"

"...Huh?" He saw where she was going with this. He was caught off-guard anyway.

"How could the ashes on the flower bring you back," she said again, patiently, "if they weren't any kind of SOUL fragments? Of you? Wouldn't it be weirder if you were just you for no reason?"

"But flowers don't have-"

"You're right!" She agreed enthusiastically. "You're absolutely right! You've been saying it and saying it, and I didn't listen. Flowers don't need sleep. Flowers don't have SOULs. But you do sleep. And drink coffee. And eat too, probably. Why?"

"Uh." Now he was at a loss. "I don't know."

"Because, because, Flowey! It's so obvious! You're not a normal flower. But you're not just… ...uh, not a normal flower. You're not a normal flower, and you do all the stuff monsters need to do still. All the basic needs we need, you probably need too. But why would it manifest that way, if you were so different from us, huh?"

"Well, I mean. Uh."

"Do you understand, Flowey? I think you've had pieces of a SOUL all along."

"What?" He stared at her, dazed. "No. I mean, no! No. That's not how it works. A monster's SOUL-"

"-doesn't survive after death, I get it. So you shouldn't have, right?"

"Well, but," he argued, sputtering now. "When I died on the flowerbed-"

"-you turned to dust. I get that, too. So your body's totally gone. We know that already. But again, what happens to that when a monster dies? It gets spread on their favorite thing. What was your favorite thing?"

"I mean, it," he tried again, looking angry. "No!"

"The flowers, right? And why do we spread that on their favorite thing? So that their essence may live on forever in that-"

"No!" He screamed. "No. No, no, NO!"

"Flowey," Alphys whispered. "Frisk is-"

"I don't give a single fuck," he howled. "No! NO! You're wrong. I have no SOUL! That's just how it goes, and you're a shitty fucking scientist if you think anything else is true! No!"

"Um, yikes," she said mostly to herself. "You're not really taking this how I expected-"

"Well, you're wrong and your scientific theories are garbage, so how else am I supposed to-"

"Okay, but hang on a second Flowey, because um, I thought you'd be glad to hear this next part, but now I-"

"There's more?" He laughed hysterically. He saw Frisk stir out of the corner of his eye and barely cared. "Well, holy fuck-a-doodle-doo, Dr. Alphys! What other outrageous scientific bullshit do you have in store for us today?"

"I-I don't know if I should say. Do you… do you need a minute? Because I can give you a minute, if you-oh, um. Hey, Frisk. Sorry we woke you."

"No, we're fucking not, Frisk." He was frothing at the mouth. "What is it, Alphys? What else is there? It doesn't matter, because you're wrong and terrible like always."

"Look, if you're upset-"

"I'm fine! It doesn't affect me! Because it's wrong anyways, so go ahead."

"I really don't know if I should-"

"Frisk, would you just tell this goddamn incompetent lizard to hurry the fuck up and spit it out so I can get on with my life? Please?" He wasn't even paying attention to what they were doing. Not yet. Strangely, he found himself shaking.

"Okay, well I um, I was going to say, I analyzed the petal."

"No shit."

"Yeah, and um, what I found was that, well," she wouldn't meet his gaze. "I was… I was right, Flowey. You do have a SOUL."

"HAH! Who even trusts you enough to-"

"I mean, well. Sort of. It's just not quite, um… ...enough of you."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"I mean, um," Alphys stammered. "Now I'm nervous. Um. I guess what went into the flower to make you, it um… ...it wasn't… I mean, can you think of anywhere else your parents might have thought it should go? Did you have any other favorite things, things you really liked to-"

"You just want me to relive it," he growled without thinking. "Every terrible moment, everything I lost, because you like that I lost it and you think it's interesting-"

"No! I'm trying to help, because I think it's awful, Flowey. I'm sad for you."

He stopped. "...What?"

"It makes me really sad, Flowey. I feel bad for you, okay? I feel bad that you died the horrible way you did, and I feel even worse that you came back and it was partially my fault. You're just a kid, and that makes me so sad. You didn't deserve this."

He had nothing to say in response.

"So I want to help. I want to figure out why you think you can't care. I want to figure out what makes you like this. I want to figure out where we all went wrong, so I can fix it, okay? I want to make it better. Not worse. For once. It's… ...it's the least I can do."

"I don't need your pity," he tried. His voice cracked.

Alphys sighed, and he saw then that her eyes were still tired. She hadn't slept after all. "You probably don't. In fact, that's probably the last thing you want. But I just want a chance to do good, like everyone else. And I still can't make you anything like Mettaton's body, because um, you know. You don't have a full SOUL. But I think you have enough that we could… I don't know…" She trailed off again. "We could do something about it."

"I don't," he repeated, voice still cracking. "I really don't need anything. I'm good."

"Can you at least do me a favor and think about it?" She gave him a smile, and it was so terribly pathetic and sad. "You don't have to decide right now. It's a lot right now. So just think about it, okay? I think I can find a way, and I think it'll be way easier than we thought, since… ...yeah. I… I think we can try something, especially now."

"Just go away," he finally managed. "That would be great right now. If you left." Nonetheless, he flashed a pleasant smile, all pearly whites he shouldn't have had. All proof that he wasn't really just a flower, was he?

"Okay. I… I've definitely overstayed my welcome, huh? So I'll go. But just, um, just know that we all want you to be happy."

"Gross," he said. His voice was weak.

"Goodnight, Flowey. Oh, and um, goodnight, Frisk! Sorry again."

He didn't look at Frisk until she left. When he did, they were staring at him so thoughtfully, he almost felt uncomfortable. It was clear they were tired, but something else was on their mind now. "What are you looking at?"

They just kept staring, in that horrible Frisk way. Their eyes were almost unblinking, and so calm against the darkness. He could see some kind of wheels turning behind those eyes, and it was so unsettling. He wished they would stop it. He wished they would just speak up once in awhile. He wished they were more like Chara, sometimes.

Didn't he? Or was that what they looked like when they did this?

"What, Frisk?" He asked again. He was annoyed now, and he tilted his head to the side. "What is it? You know I can't know what you're thinking unless you-"

Yep, there it was. They picked him up, and he sighed.

"Lead the way, then, I guess."

They did, and too happily, especially for someone who'd been stirred from sleep again at this hour. But that was just Frisk, too good at adjusting to odd situations for anyone's comfort. He wondered why they weren't making more noise, and spied a pair of white dog slippers on their feet. Come to think of it, he'd never thought about Frisk actually wearing pajamas before. They must have.

"Did Toriel buy those for you at that ridiculous human shop?"

Frisk nodded, and Flowey scoffed. "Figures."

They nodded again. He could see now that they were wearing some kind of blue and purple-striped bottoms and a top, too, probably loose and comfortable. He wondered what it felt like to own pajamas. He couldn't even really remember, and told himself that it didn't matter and he didn't care.

He was in deep thought about this when they arrived back in the kitchen. Just like before, it was darker. Just like before, he noticed the knives glinting in the distance and the red glow of the hot fridge. Just like before, it reminded him of something else, and he didn't particularly feel like revisiting any of the memories. Especially not now. Especially not like this.

"What are we doing, Frisk?" He whispered. "You're not gonna make me stay out here again, are you?"

They shook their head, then stood on tiptoes to set him on the table. He watched as they went over to examine the countertops, clearly looking for something. After a moment, he heard some obnoxious and loud rustling. "Frisk, why do you always-"

Frisk put a finger to their lips again. When they produced both of the candies they'd purchased earlier, their flower friend shut up. It was so typical of them to go over to his side and open the packet of popping candy first, though, and they set it down in front of him with a large grin.

He blinked. "...Okay, so what do I do now? I don't have arms, genius."

To their credit, this seemed to occur to them as well, and they held the candy up and poured too much of it into his mouth without any second thought. He wasn't quite expecting this, and sputtered in shock as he nearly spit some of it up. "Frisk," he started, coughing slightly, "what in the actual hell-"

And paused.

Something was going on in his mouth.

"Huh?" He tried after a second, sticking out his tongue. "What's-"

It crackled. He almost couldn't focus on the actual taste, so sweet he had no frame of reference.

"What is this, Frisk," he tried, and his tongue crackled some more. "Is this the candy?"

Their head bobbed up and down with excitement, and they went about unwrapping the butterscotch candy. He wanted to laugh at just how precise they were about it, sticking their tongue out and focusing in like it was some complex situation, but he was too weirded out by the continuing crackling in his mouth. He watched, still, as they inspected it and popped into their mouth, smiling with satisfaction.

"When does it stop? Will it ever?" He didn't know if he wanted it to or not, but he had to ask. Frisk shrugged, then nodded again, savoring their own piece of sugar. It was clear they didn't prefer cinnamon the way he did (this made them wrong, obviously).

When it finally did fizzle out, Frisk was still wearing their candy down with spit. He watched them fiddle with it with their tongue. "Wow," he said, almost at a loss for words. After a moment, he decided he liked it. "Is there anymore? Can I do this ag-"

More candy practically dumped into his mouth. More hacking some of it up.

"Frisk, you idiot!" But it was so sweet, and it felt so strange. "I like this."

From across the table, Frisk gave a thumbs up.

"Are you sure it's not a weapon?"

Thumbs down.

"Aw. Humans just don't know how to have real fun, do they?"

Shrug.

Moments ticked by. The hot fridge hummed, as it usually did. They sat in the dark filling themselves up with sugar, and Flowey vaguely hoped that none of this was like the coffee. It didn't seem to be, but you never could tell. Frisk was drumming their fingers nonchalantly against the table now, and silence filled the room.

It gave him too much time to think about everything.

"Can you believe Alphys?" He laughed.

As usual, there was a silence on Frisk's end of the table.

"Hmph. Of course you can. You want everything to have a SOUL like you, don't you?"

Again, all they could do was shrug.

"Well, not everything does, Frisk. This table doesn't have a SOUL. That candy doesn't have a SOUL." He paused for a moment. "Flowers don't have a SOUL. That includes me. The sooner you learn that, the better."

They were just staring at him from across the table, sucking on their stupid candy. He saw the way their eyes took absolutely everything in, the way nothing got past their personal filter at all, and was even more unnerved by it. Everyone around him was an idiot, that was without question; in a sea of stupidity, Frisk still stood out. They paid actual attention to him, not just half attention or inattention, but really understood what he was trying to say. Their eyes were so curious. He fidgeted.

"Look, Frisk, I've told you so many times," he said after a moment. "In this world, it's kill or be killed, right? Good people die. They're killed. And if that's the truth, then there's no way I can have a SOUL."

They tilted their head to the side curiously.

"Because, stupid," he spat. "Nothing with a SOUL could do what I've done."

Their head remained tilted.

"Well, you couldn't, could you?" He grumbled, irritated now. "You didn't. That was the whole point."

It was clear they weren't buying it.

"And you had so many opportunities, too," he babbled. "Soooo many times when you could have slaughtered them all! I was so sure you'd cave, at least. But you didn't, Frisk. RESET after RESET. Death after death. You endured it all, the same dialogue, the same situations, over and over again, just like me! But you didn't kill anyone at all. I was watching."

Now they were really listening, propping their face up against their elbow. Their eyes were so alert for the time it was, and he really resented it. Nevertheless, they looked so inviting. He almost couldn't help but keep going. "Do you know how many times I killed you?" He asked, nearly cackling. The crackling had faded from his mouth.

They thought about it, then held up ten fingers.

"No, Frisk," he said. "It was so much more than that. I promise."

They had nothing to say to this.

"I watched you die, and die, and die," he sang. "Over and over and over again, Frisk. And I kept count." His voice was rising to a delirious pitch, and he was pleased to find the human child tensing up at the sound of it. "I kept track of how many times I watched you bleed. It was even kind of fun, you know?"

He thought maybe, if they could, they'd go for the stick. They didn't move.

"I really enjoyed it," he sighed, wistfully. "We could've stayed like that forever…"

Frisk shook their head uncertainly, nearly swallowing the butterscotch candy.

"Oh, I know," he conceded after a moment. "I know what that goat told you, huh? He just didn't want you to leave because you reminded him of Chara." He stuck his tongue out in disgust. "For some reason. But I'm not like that, Frisk. I don't care about Chara at all! You were a lot of fun all by yourself."

He found that they still had no response.

"But see, Frisk," he continued on anyways. "If I still had a SOUL-his SOUL-would I disagree with him?"

More shrugging.

"Oh, you're no help," he dismissed. "Not that I need any. But if I still had a SOUL, I'd probably at least like it. The candy, and the jokes, and the parents and the friends… I'd like them all, wouldn't I? Too much to hurt them." He glared at his reflection in the darkness, the glow of the hot fridge illuminating it again. "Too much to hurt you."

It was like talking to a brick wall, stoic and unmoving.

"But I did hurt you, Frisk. So much. And he wouldn't have. I… I know he wouldn't have, if he felt like himself." He just kept staring at his own reflection, just like in the puddle in his dream. It looked just as muddy and confusing then, in the haze of his subconscious. "I felt that. He really cared about you. He really cared about everything."

He couldn't tell what they were doing anymore.

"Stupid goat cared so much, Frisk. Too much, I think. For him, for me. For anybody."

He could feel their eyes on him without looking. He was getting good at that.

"And that wasn't my fault," he insisted. "It wasn't. He got himself killed. He didn't listen."

Silence.

"If he'd just listened," Flowey tried. The more he stared at his reflection, the more distorted it seemed, unreal and horrifying. He didn't know if he liked it. "If he'd just listened to Chara, I-we-this wouldn't have happened… If he'd just listened to Chara, I know it would've been so different-"

He froze.

Frisk was trying to hug him.

"What are you doing?" He asked. It came out like a distant question.

They paid him no mind, pulling him softly to their chest and keeping him there. What might have been tears were forming in their eyes now, and it was so embarrassing he almost couldn't look, bewildered as he was to be crushed like this again.

"Not again, Frisk," he sighed. "I'm so sick of explaining this to you. He's dead. Don't try anything, okay?"

As usual, they paid him no mind, squishing him with all the care they had in their tiny little body. It was nauseating.

"Why don't you ever listen," he wondered, even pressed up against their sweater. "You should know better than anyone. You met him. You know this is for him. It isn't mine, it isn't. It's not-"

"No," said Frisk, so soft.

He was so surprised he nearly jumped.

"This is yours."

"Fine," he murmured in surprise. "I guess I'll take it, then. For now."

He did. After the moment passed, he felt even worse than before, and he recoiled as though Frisk had bit him. "Just get away from me now, okay? You're so stubborn." He hissed, and he hoped the hot fridge made him look horrifying. "And don't make this a habit. I hate hugs."

They made an "okay" sign with their fingers and pulled away. He watched as they went back over to their side of the table to sit and continue savoring the candy, looking nothing short of content, and he could hardly stand it.

"You know," he said, "I'm glad you don't talk that often. Your voice is annoying."

They laughed a little. He frowned.

"That's not the right reaction, Frisk."

They shrugged.

"Why don't you, anyway? Even Shyren makes more noise than you, and you're not even shy!"

It was an innocent inquiry, but he saw the way their face changed from peaceful to something almost troubled. Most people would've seen the look on their face and dropped it, knowing that they were uncomfortable, and moved on. Flowey was not most people. He barely even considered himself a person.

With a wide grin, he persisted. "I don't know," he lilted. "I just think it's so strange! Everyone I've ever known talks more than you. Toriel gave you a phone, and you don't even say anything to her most of the time. There's a reason for that, right?"

Frisk was squirming. He felt actual delight.

"No one goes silent for no reason, Frisk," he said. "People are almost always silenced. So what did that to you?"

He watched as their fingers fiddled with the fabric of their sweater. Normally he would've expected a stoic straight face in a situation like this; after all, Frisk was the sort of human who could face near certain death with an unflinching amount of perseverance. He'd glared down at this kid as a towering monster more than once and they'd expressed a straight face at most every single time, no matter how many times they got hit or even died. Sometimes they smiled, even. And yet, in the face of this question, they looked more uncomfortable than he had ever seen them before.

It was amazing, and he intended to milk this for all it was worth.

"Is it a what at all, Frisk?" He asked, keeping his tone demure. "Or could it be something else?"

There was no response from them, but he saw the way they nearly swallowed the candy whole. This was the closest thing to joy he could probably ever experience (or at least that's what he told himself). Either way, it didn't matter. He could nearly forget about his own misery, as long as he got to watch the blatant misery of someone else.

"Could it be more of a 'who?'" He wondered aloud, paying careful attention to the nervous and busy movement of Frisk's fingers. It was almost like they were trying to comfort themselves, and he wanted to know whether or not they'd try to make a grab for the stick, wherever it was.

The movement stopped. They froze this time.

He giggled. "Yeah, that's it, isn't it? Somebody did this to you."

They weren't even looking at him now, something so different for them. They weren't paying the careful and close attention they usually did, eyes focused instead on the tabletop. He could see that they were biting their lip, maybe to keep from crying. This was very different, actually.

"Why else would you be so nice, anyways? I should've figured that you were compensating for something. It's been so obvious this whole time!" Part of him was actually putting the puzzle pieces together, and he stared at Frisk with the same concentration Frisk would've given him. It was so interesting to see how the tables had turned. "You've just always seemed so perfect. But you're not, are you?"

No response from them, but their eyes were far away. Flowey knew what happened when people got like that. They were usually somewhere else, some place far away, reliving some kind of miserable moment of their own. It gave him a kind of terrible satisfaction, knowing that right then Frisk was reliving something terrible too, and all pressure was off him.

More than the glee, though, Flowey just felt interested. It was something brand new that he'd never seen. Not when he'd killed Frisk the first time, not when he'd killed Frisk the tenth time, and certainly not when he'd killed Frisk beyond that. This was a side of Frisk he'd never managed to prod out of them, no matter what aggravating things he'd done, and he almost didn't want it to end.

Almost.

Some other part of him knew, deep down, that when he was reliving things Frisk was...

...well, they were…

No. It wasn't his fault that they took pity. That was their flaw, after all.

"You're not perfect at all," Flowey mused, "because perfect people don't get hurt like that, do they?"

He was startled out of his thoughts by the sound of a chair against the floor and nearly jumped. He hadn't been expecting it all, but he watched Frisk chew the rest of their candy to swallowable bits, hopping down from the table.

"Okay, fine," Flowey sighed. "Where are we going now?"

They just had to push the chair back in first, despite it being so much bigger than them. Flowey scoffed and rolled his eyes. It was just like Frisk to do some meaningless and thoughtful task like that first, but whatever. He was getting used to it now, and waited patiently for Frisk to pick him back up and take him back to their stupid room or something to listen to them snore for the next few hours.

No such thing happened. They were walking away.

"...Frisk? Where are you going?"

No response as they continued out of the room, stupid dog slippers making no noise at all.

"Frisk? Don't tell me you're actually running away! Boy, that's rich!"

They gave no indication that they heard him at all.

"Frisk, you're so sensitive! Come on, you honestly expect me to believe that just because what I was saying is true, you're just going to leave me out-"

He listened to a door being shut, a little louder than normal.

"-here?"

Flowey blinked.

"Well, good," he hissed emphatically at nothing.

After a while of staring at the other end of a table, he had to accept that they weren't coming back. He glared at his own reflection, sick of the stupid redness that the useless hot fridge was giving off, and sick of the silence. The only thing he could think to do was practice making faces, but even that was boring, because he was so good at it by now.

Unbelievably, the packet of popping candy was right in front of him, just barely out of his reach. He tried to lean over to grab it with his teeth, grunting and straining against the effort of it, but could never quite reach it. Instead, he just had to know that it was there, not even empty yet and reachable only with help, and he hated it just as much as he hated everything else.

"I can't believe they just left like that," Flowey complained to the darkness.

The darkness listened sympathetically.

"I was just telling the truth. That's all I ever do! But no one wants to hear it."

The hot fridge agreed, too.

"I just thought they were better than that," he rambled. "But that's the problem with things with SOULs, I guess. They're all so touchy, and they feel so much! Good thing I don't have to deal with that."

His reflection, as usual, agreed with everything.

"Hah, yeah," he said back at himself, and he found that his voice was soft. "What a nightmare that would be, huh?"

Eventually, there was nothing left to say.