Chapter Text
Darkness.
Darkness enveloped him, lulling him down to sweet oblivion.
He tried to resist, of course, how could he not with such a prospect threatening to swallow him whole? But eternity always wins, and eventually it wore him down enough to let go.
And that's how things remained for the longest time.
He wasn't sure for quite how long, but it certainly felt like eons. Now and again he felt something stir within him, but stuck in this thick malaise as he was, it was but a fleeting moment or two in the grand scheme of things.
He would do his best to help out of course, limited as he was, but things returned to darkness all the same in the end.
Until it didn't.
He felt... pain.
Pain in a place he hadn't felt in what could have been mere moments or countless centuries for all he knew. Yet still it hurt all the same. It took a while for him to even understand that it was pain, with it increasing every moment he took trying to process the feeling.
Until finally instinct took over and...
He breathed in.
What.
Dead, decaying air filled lungs he wasn't aware he had, and was immediately expelled as a coughing fit racked him. Limbs thrashed about in a moment of panic, rolling over to hold his aching chest.
He could hear himself breathing raggedly. But how was that possible? It wasn't. He must have gone insane finally, yeah, that made more sense. Silly him. Back to it then.
…
The burning in his lungs returned again when he grew still, and caused him to repeat the inhalation and subsequent coughing storm.
Wait a darn minute. He had limbs to thrash about?
Since when?
Slowly, he recalled how things used to be, and with what felt like ancient knowledge at his behest, he willed his 'hand' to move, and...
Felt coldness. Firmness. Something icy cold and unmoving blocked his left, he tried the same with his right to much the same effect. Below him too was firm and smooth and cold. It surrounded him on all sides.
A disturbing revelation that went ignored for the sheer fact that he could feel again! He had never been so glad to have his own warmth sapped away like this until now.
With all the other ways blocked, finally, he tried directly above. Best he could figure – he was laying down, as implausible as it seemed to him. Still, he seemed to recall somewhere that if you pinch yourself and it hurts, then it must mean you're not crazy. And that definitely hurt all six times he had checked.
Unlike the other directions, this time, above gave way a little. Just a tiny bit, but it did have the slightest bit of give.
Odd. But not unwelcome, and he was certainly happy to have something to do. And so he set to pushing against it, slowly but surely. Sure, he could have put more effort in, but after being in the embrace of nothingness for so long, he made sure to savor what he could.
On that note, his thoughts were coming much clearer and faster to him now. The malaise of before seemed to be gone. Also odd, but definitely not unwelcome. Breathing, feeling, even tasting was back. Even the strange, disgusting tasting air he was surrounded by was quite the thrill to partake in.
A sight for sore eyes to the blind must be awful majestic, he mused, then blinked in surprise. He had eyes to blink! What's more – he had eyes to see! It was slight, but this time when he pressed up against the roof over him, he saw a neat little line of white.
Quite novel after being in the abyss for so long. He spent a while admiring it, until he discovered that if he pushed further, the line would remain, not disappear, and even started to grow the more he pushed-
THUNK!
He shut his eyes tight as he winced in pain. His ears hurt from the intensity of that noise, his eyes hurt from the all encompassing light that greeted him when the roof fell away. And his lungs still ached from the stagnant air.
Slowly, he cracked open his eyes to stare at the wall of white above him, and an odd, black mist wafting from within his confines into the greater space above him now.
He willed his hand forward, and slowly, he saw something completely unexpected. From how it moved according to his command, it was most definitely his, but the limb he was looking at was not his own.
Instead of flesh, he was seeing... scales? Like some kind of lizard. A pastel yellow and light blue that was easy on the eyes, and his fingers were even tipped with little claws that glinted in the light.
“Wha...” He croaked, then blinked in surprise. Was that his voice? It sounded like a frog! Though... well, maybe it wasn't his voice, not really. In any case it was one that hadn't been used in a long, long time.
“No no, it's really your voice.” A different voice spoke up then as if reading his mind, and slowly something wriggling came into view amid the white backdrop. Green and spiked, it flowed and slithered around, until finally, a familiar face showed itself.
“...Flowey...?” He croaked again, reaching out weakly towards the golden flower. The plant wore an amused smirk on his face, and one of his vines reached out to wrap around the shaking hand.
“Howdy.” Flowey grunted, “It's about time you woke up. The others are long gone already. Though I guess it's reeeeeeal fitting that you're the last, you always did love taking your sweet time getting things going. Golly, I've been waiting here for you for ages!”
“What?” He asked, confusion flooding him. “I don't- I don't understand.”
Flowey sighed, shaking his head. He then ducked out of sight for a few moments, then returned to push something into his confines and on top of him.
“Eat and drink first. You're... well, you're alive. Again. So eat up, get that strength back. Though it's probably different compared to what you're used to.” Flowey gave a coy snicker and left once more. “When you can stand, come find me!”
“What in tarnation is going on?” He groaned, feeling around with his hand and heard something crinkle in his grip. He held it up to see what it was.
'Popato Chisps'... he vaguely recalled something like that from before. Gravity granola too. Even some... shockingly clear water. It was slowly coming back to him.
And with that, he realized just how starving he was. Suddenly he was mighty grateful for the claws as he tore into and demolished all of it, savoring the taste of the salt and potato and... whatever the granola was truly made out of it.
It was delicious, and that was all that mattered. Memories of eating these things long, long ago surfaced in his mind... but the taste then didn't quite compare to now. Was it because he had gone so long without? Or...
He looked at his hand, then at the other one. An exact mirror. His arms were the same color, and covered in scales, his chest, his stomach... oh. He was missing his clothes.
“...!” His eyes went wide as he felt around his collarbone. His bandanna! “Now that's just crossin' a line.” He growled, then coughed some more and held his chest. He eyed the water, then slowly went to drink it.
Only to completely miss his mouth and hit his chin instead.
He blinked in surprise again and looked down cross eyed a bit. Instead of his nose, he was seeing... his nose. A much bigger one.
A muzzle that took up the lower third of his line of sight now that he was paying attention. Slowly he explored his face with his hands. Unsurprisingly, it was also like that of a lizard, though... he had... frills?
He thought he remembered seeing a lizard like that somewhere... though the frills that one sported were certainly not as long as his own. They could practically serve as a cloak in and of themselves.
His neck was long. Longer than he remembered, and if he flexed his neck and jaw muscles he could make his frills move up and down, and even make them unfurl like an umbrella. That was kind of funny.
“Heh... heheh.” He chuckled sadly, running his fingers along the frills for a few minutes. It at least made up for not having hair anymore. Though he did suppose the strange elongated scales topping his head were a close enough approximation.
He took a few moments while he sipped at the water to lament the loss of his hat, and his beloved bandanna. He felt naked without them, well, more naked anyways. It was an awkward feeling all around.
Slowly, he sat up and looked around. He was in a stone box of some sort. No, no. A coffin. He was in a coffin, of which he had pushed the lid off. That explained the noise that scared him half to death at least.
Why was he in a coffin though? That was... odd.
Wait, no it wasn't. He had died, and by his own volition. Why did he do that again? Oh. To correct an injustice. That's right.
...Why was he alive again?
“Flowey.” He murmured, then tried pulling himself to his feet. He fell back down as he was far too weak to support his own weight, but that did not stop him from trying again, and again, and again.
With each failure, he grew more determined to do it right, with each attempt, he got his strength back bit by bit until finally, he managed to stand!
For only a few seconds before subsequently flopping over the side of the coffin and onto the floor.
“Ow...” He groaned, he had landed right on his snout. He felt it squish and fold and bounce right back into place with a soft squeaking noise. With a low growl of frustration, he pushed up off the floor and got to his knees.
He eyed something swishing to his side, and spied... a tail? One connected to his own behind. The thing moved as if with a mind of its own, ending in a clubbed tip that reminded him of a four-leafed clover.
That explains why he was having so much trouble standing like he was used to then, this thing was throwing off his equilibrium something fierce. With a sigh he supposed he'd just have to adjust.
The room he was in was quite depressing. He was surrounded by yet more coffins, all of which lay empty much like his own. He was alone, and no noise could be made out save for his own which echoed ominously.
It took a while, but eventually he worked out how to walk, albeit with the assistance of the sturdy wall next to him. It was slow going, but eventually he made it out of the room and into the hallway outside.
And the stairs that connected to it. Though strangely, there was also a small platform haphazardly rigged up to the side. After throwing himself up and onto it, he hit the button to make it go with his tail.
He eyed it idly as the machine whirred to life and slowly began the ascent up the staircase. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad having a tail? Or... whatever it was that he was now, anyways.
The lift came to a stop with a THUNK, to reveal... yet more halls. Still without any occupants, though... sparkling clean in spite of it. Odd.
He emerged into a large room, filled with golden flowers, and in the center was Flowey himself, watering them idly with a blank expression. Each and every part of the room had been immaculately tended to, leaving it all to grow into a complete, gorgeous display of flowers that depicted... something. He wasn't quite sure what it was but it was breathtaking.
His legs gave out on him in the middle of beholding the majesty of the room, and Flowey looked up from the noise.
“Oh. Howdy. Finally joining me, huh?” He dipped into the ground, then popped back up right next to his guest. “Gosh, you sure took your sweet time.”
“Mm.” He gave a grunt in response, holding up a hand and wiggling his fingers slowly. “What's... going on? Flowey... where are we? Why am I...”
“A monster?” Flowey completed, then let out an amused scoff. “Well, it was either that or let you just rot away in the ether for all time. So, you're welcome, bud. Told you your best pal Flowey has your back~” He tilted his head this way and that with a teasing tone.
“...I still don't understand.” He pressed. “What is all this? I- I'm so confused.”
“Gee, what else is new.” Flowey sighed and shook his head. “Well, you ate, right? Here. Get dressed.” A pile of vines wriggled up from the dirt and in them were some pants, a shirt, and...
His bandana!
“You... you kept it all this time?” He asked incredulously, snatching it up.
“Oh, so NOW you can move fine. Why is THAT raggedy thing the first thing you go for over pants?” Flowey rolled his eyes, then looked off to the side with a frown. “...It got torn with age, so I sewed it back together.”
“...Gosh, Flowey... I don't know what to say.” He murmured as he tied it around his neck under his frills, then looked at him reverently. “Thank you kindly, it really means a whole lot.”
“Hmph. Well I knew you'd moan and cry and complain forever if you didn't have it, so... whatever.” He made a shrugging motion with his vines. “More importantly though, how do you feel?”
“Do ya even really care?” He paused in the middle of buttoning his pants to look at Flowey in surprise. “Or... wait, this is gonna be another sarcastic joke, ain't it?”
“Wow, look at you – putting on pants and making smart remarks already.” The flower got a smug smirk on his face, that was more like it. Then he frowned again. “...I'm being serious. How are you feeling? The others were fine, but you never know.”
“...What?” He blinked in surprise. “Uhh... I... I guess I'm okay? I don't know why I'm a monster all of the sudden... or alive, but... I just am?”
“...Yep, you're Mr. Gun-Hat himself, alright.” Flowey snorted. “Even as a monster you still have that blank, dopey look on your face. And your trademark idiocy, can't forget that. Though you're lacking your gun, and your hat, huh?”
“Gun-Hat...?” He echoed. “That's... me?”
“Unless you know some OTHER human cowboy aficionado that came to the underground.” Flowey poked him in the chest with a vine. “But as much as I'd LOVE to lead you in circles until the heat death of the universe, allow your ol' pal to fill you in.”
His vine then swirled around the room in a grand, sweeping gesture.
“You and me? We're the only ones left here in the entire underground, save for a few weirdos here and there. And before you jump to conclusions – it's because they all left. The barrier is broken, and lil' ol' me is the one that did it.” He smirked smugly once more. “And lil' ol' me is the one that brought you back from the dead! However, there were some... complications, if it wasn't obvious enough. Though, it isn't Gun-Hat, it's Clover. That ringing any bells?”
The once-human blinked a few times as he tried to process all of this, and when he couldn't manage it, he simply stopped and fell over, unconscious.