Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Lavender got up from the ground "Are you alright" he asked Thistle "Yeah, I think so" he answered. His head was spinning in confusion, his legs barely held him. He took the chrysanthemum's flower crown from the ground; it was shattered in pieces with its petals brown from the bruises. Something inside him broke. There was trouble in Nature Tale. He has always known that the day could come; when the dark forces that lived in the multiverse put their hands in this pocket full of life.

Thistle seemed even more troubled, shouting obscenities to the air as his only coping mechanism left. He was worried for this friend of his who was almost like a second brother. Lavender knew this day would come, but Thistle was always waiting for it, almost obsessively searching for problems everywhere. So now that the moment had come, that a monster tried to hurt not one, but two of his brothers, he could only wait for an even worse outcome.

He felt sorry for Thistle, he had come such a long way just to trust in other people, he had worked so hard not to be on guard every second, to relax and sleep under the tree's leaves. Now it would take longer than before to calm him. Lavender only could think of all the nightmares that Thistle would have, all the fear he would hide to not look like a weak monster. He wished that that was only a nightmare, but it wasn't.

The chrysanthemums smelled like chlorophyll, and he could feel the life draining from them. With a movement in his hands, he forced magic into the flowers and the flower crown disappeared in a breeze of seeds and leaves. Those were going to rebuild in a new life, as everything should do; in the perfect cycle of nature.

Poppy came worried, Rose behind him with her spear in hand, "WHAT HAPPENED LAVENDER, IS EVERYONE SAFE?" he asked out of breath "That fuking weirdo from before" said Thistle "He was here after Lavender. I scared the shit out of him. So not expect that bastard anymore" he continued to ramble. "He was actually very brave," Lavender said with a tiny laugh, "He just saved me".

He shook the grass from his coat shaking the fear out of himself. "Thanks, bro" he said to Thistle with his words full of genuineness. But even then, the uneasy feeling could not be taken away from him. "Let's go home, I promised to clean after the party," he said walking calmly towards Thistle's home.

The party was dismissed soon after another toast in the name of the bravery of Thistle. And soon Lavender found himself in the comforting routine of making deashes and sweeping the floor. Everything was coming back to normality, or so he thought "Lav, dud" called Thistle "Yeah, bro?", a pause filled the place with uncertainty, "Don't ever dare to come close to strangers like that anymore" He looked serious as he said that. "I don't know if you blind or whatever, but I don't want any more 'good guy' plays anymore"

Lavender took a moment to reflect, then looked Thistle in the eyes "I'm not a kid you know?" Thistle seemed furious "I just want to give everyone the opportunity...They deserved" Thistle opened his mouth a moment in confusion "Are you even hearing what you say? A fuking psycho comes and I tell you to NOT come near him and you decide to do just the opposite of that! Just hear me, for ONCE Lavender"

Another pause filled the room "I know, I'm sorry, I just had to be sure...he seemed so scared and desperate, I...I'm sorry" Thistle looked at him with a mix of confusion and disgust "Just not do that bullshit again" "Understood"

Lavender left the house with the fake promise of going straight to his home. He took a detour to a quiet path in the woods. The sound of the crickets filled the air like the twinkle of a million stars. The air was fresh and cold; the forest ignored the disturbing scene that had taken place just a moment ago. As always, nature flowed forward.

In every step, Lavender tried to release his mind of everything, in every little step he left his soul engraved in the mud. The leaves formed beautiful curtains that seemed to rain from all above over him; the silhouettes of the big trees twisted and curled in formidable shapes and the air was fresh and clean. A sharp sound pierced the still air; probably one of the nocturnal birds was close by, sitting in the dark waiting for their next meal.

He felt a little bit better, like one just after a shower; ready to start anew. A bat flew with their big open wings close by like a shadow and startled the thoughtful Lavender. He laughed slowly. He wasn't himself that night. He let a hand take the flower crown in his head now crooked because of his little jump.

He looked one by one at the many flowers in it, he even tried to count them as one counts sheep before to sleep. He said out loud "One, two..." He took a seat in a big tree root, extended his feet, and continued the count "Twelve, thirteen, fourteen..." He controlled his breathing in big and firm inhalations and exhalations and freed his mind of every thought.

Life was constant, always going forward, no matter what happened in his little life. There was no need for answers, just the need to connect with others and with nature. Soon he closed his eyes and felt a bean of joy inside him, a pure energy that came deep within; a feeling he wanted to give the whole world. The feeling grew up inside him until it was all over his body filling everything with satisfactory happiness, then it was no longer inside him but all around him and soon all over the forest and even beyond Nature Tale.

He opened his eyes slowly, feeling way better. He stood up and stretched his arms putting his flower crown in his head again, adjusting it so it looked just fine. He shacked the dust in his clothing and with a deep breath prepared himself for the walk back to his home. The forest looked just like before; the same quiet sounds, the same dark look, the same fresh smell; nothing changed.

He walked back, with the same answers as before, but so much calmer. He will figure it out later; he'll just have to let the time flow as his own. He felt better but rather sleepy, yes, maybe the correct path was to sleep it over. He had started to feel sleepy, and could not wait to be in his bed.

Suddenly a raindrop touched his mouth, and then another and another, till all he could see were lines and reflections. He raised his hand and teleported directly into his room; it was enough for one day.

Chapter Text

Silence surrounded the forest like a thin white mist and a soft cold spread from the ground. Seated on the vine swing, Lavender let out a sigh. The presence behind him was too obvious not to be noticed. Some moments ago, all the insects and lizards went quiet, and a static sound filled with distortion the environment. All at once the world was telling him something was wrong; a predator was behind him.

The uneasy sensation went down his spine and his hands shook a little; it would be a lie to say he wasn't afraid. He already knew the threatening red and blue eyes fixed in him like the mortal bite of a boa. The last time he found himself in front of those eyes he ended with a sour taste in the mouth. He needed time to understand what had happened last time: there were two Poppies, or at least for a moment there were, and the stranger had taken one of them. One exact copy of his brother in those hands, a Poppy he knew, deep in his heart, was now dead.

His mind was just coming to terms with the idea of his brother being scared and alone, trembling in a yet unknown place; he just had started to comprehend the twisted reality he had left him in. He asked himself if Poppy was waiting for him to show up and rescue him if he had left his brother to die. Lavender felt sick; one needs a lot of time to comprehend those things.

A cloud let a light touch Lavender's eyes and he asked himself if he could forgive this stranger if it was even worth forgiving him when he was capable of hurting one of the most important beings for him. The cloud covered the light once again and in the shadow that followed it, he felt a cold sensation travel through his body. He looked at his hand; he repaired in the whited purple of his bones. With that same hand he could invoke his Gaster Blasters, with the same hand he could scare this stranger out of Nature Tale for once and for all.

He knew how to fight; as almost any Sans in the multiverse, he had the duty of securing his world, in a silenced and exhausting work with almost no recompense. He could fight, but didn't want to do it; fighting was exhausting and hurt, always, both sides. Was it worth it to do it this time? were there enough reasons to fight him? Thistle seemed to think there were, but knowing his friend's inclination to violence made it not a fair argument.

The truth was that for some reason he couldn't hate this stranger. He looked almost scared when he approached him, he looked almost sorry. Those big eyes seemed so troubled and alone. He could not bring himself to hate someone so despaired for comprehension. He reminded him of the humans he had to confront before; the same eyes that Buttercup used to have, with their hands covered in blood and the weapon trembling in them; the same eyes Thistle himself had when he came from Nature Fell, with dust fresh in his coat.

One recures to violence in a world full of violence, one kills someone when one doesn't see another option on the table. That was a belief Lavender tried to hold always in his head. Buttercup and Thistle transformed into kind and loving people when they encountered love and compassion in Nature Tale. Maybe that stranger needed that; maybe behind that cold and scared look lay a beautiful monster waiting to come afloat. Yes, though Lavender as he looked up to the green leaves of the tree, it was worth it to wait for a new friend to come near.

A firefly attempted to fly towards his nose and he received it with a chuckle. His hand was not ready to invoke bones, he preferred to use it to grow more flowers in the flower crown of chrysanthemum he held in his other hand. The yellow petals bloomed in a mesmerizing pattern that made his eyes feel dizzy. This one was prettier than the last one, the chrysanthemum grows bigger under the influence of his magic, alive and happy. Those flowers mean friendship, welcoming, happiness, and well-being. This was his intention with this encounter.

He wanted to show this stranger that everyone who comes to Nature Tale will be received with love and kindness, that he doesn't need to fear anyone here, and that if he wanted, he could come and free himself there. The firefly star played with the petals of the chrysanthemums, like a child that runs in front of candy, it crawled inside them and danced between the flowers. Soon another one joins in, and then another and another, till there is a dozen of them flying around him. He laughs again letting them play with his own lavender's flower crown.

He asked himself if this stranger would appreciate this present if he even understood what they meant. He turned his head a little so he could see the glitching figure behind the tree, and in a second the figure was hidden fully so he couldn't see him. Seems like his shy companion wouldn't want to talk that night, so he would have to manage the interaction another way.

He once heard of a kid who domesticated a fox just by sitting close to him; every night he would sit a little closer till he was just beside his new furry friend. Maybe this stranger was his fox, maybe he showed his fangs just because of nervousness and he'll just have to make him comfortable with his presence.

He looked at his present again in the light of the night, feeling like something was missing, he felt like he wasn't truthful enough, like he was lying. Was he lying? He still wanted to know this stranger, he wanted to understand him, but... The knot in his throat grows bigger with the tough, it's not easy to forget, and he wasn't forgiving.

He held magic again in his hand and with the clear image of Poppy in his head. He let the magic flow through every one of his bones, and then flow out of his fingertips like a soft current. It felt like a soft heat coming from deep in his chest, like what happiness feels. Soon a stream of white and yellow flowers appeared on his lap. He took one of them and looked at it closely, he smiled to himself; now everything made sense.

The flower he held was placed in between two chrysanthemums, and he started to move his hands in sync slowly but firmly placing more and more tiny white flowers facing all directions. His bones separated the flower's stems and twisted to fit the tight knots of the crown that soon seemed more live than ever. With a flow of his magic, he made the leaves of the flowers bigger and the flowers shinier.

He smiled proudly looking at the new flower crown. This was a new start, for both of them, so he would let go of all his feelings out of his chest. Someday maybe the stranger will tell him all about what happened that night, someday he may be able to forgive him; but now he'll just accept the moment as it was.

He got up from the vine swing leaving the flower crown behind. "Those are for you," he said in a quiet voice, "I'm going now, so you can make yourself comfortable and take them with you" A moment of hesitation, "Just don't give us any more surprises". He waved his hand "Good night".

Chapter Text

He woke up with a beam of light directly in his face; last night he was so tired that he forgot to close the curtains. He stood up leaving with sorrow the comfiness of his bed, then, he stooped one moment to see Nature Tale from his window. The number of shades of green hit his eyes with an amazing shock; no matter how many times he confronted the scene it was never enough to prepare him for that view.
Leaves reined from all above making the scene look invaded by a storm of little green points dancing in the air. Strong old trees grew up with their branches open in all sorts of shapes and figures, so thick and strong that seemed like they were the ones holding together the cave ceiling, that even now, in the middle of the day was shining with the star looking stones engraved in its belly.
A group of birds flew by his window, maybe a group of pigeons searching for something to eat. The collision of white, black, gray, and brown feathers made a bouquet of colors interrupting all the green. Bellow the grass-covered all the ground that could be seen, sometimes intercepted by a little daisy or a dandelion. Moss was everywhere too, making soft beds of dark green in all the trees and rocks. Butterflies flew from flower to flower along round and small bees.
Lavender followed for a long moment the flying insects trying to foresee where they’ll land next. He laughed to himself after failing, and turn away from the window. He searched for a little while for his sleepers and found each one in opposite corners of the room; maybe he was as disorganized as his brother said. He searched too for a clean pair of socks in his pile of socks and found one pretty clean. His green sweater was still clean and he dint want to ruin the knitting by washing it too often, the same goes for the coat.
The dark brown wooden floor cracked under his steps while he searched for the bathroom. A quick shower will be enough to wake him up. He carefully pulled the clothes onto a little bench beside the tub. With clean water running through his body he recalled the memories of the past night, one by one they passed like a carrousel in front of him. He still wasn’t sure if his decision of forgiving the stranger was right, he didn’t know if he even was ready, but the beautifulness of the little white flowers that he put in the crown last night make him want to try again.
Once ended the shower he went to the first floor “BROTHER, WHAT WAS TAKING YOU SO LONG?” Asked a barely mad Poppy “Sorry bro, I was growing roots” he answered with a wide smile “JUST TAKE BREAKFAST ALREADY”. A bowl of oatmeal and fruits appeared in front of him and he received it happily. A few moments pass till he was also given a Matcha tea beside his plate.
Everything seemed quiet and easy, just like it should be, and another day felt like a beautiful blessing. He let the texture of the oatmeal spread in his mouth, the granulated feel of every oat tickled a little, and the soft cream that accompanied it flowed freely on his tongue. The blueberries were acidic and rich, and the chopped strawberries were sweet. Everything was perfect.
He stood up and left his dishes in the sink and reached the little bench placed against the wall and washed the dishes with some sort of dedication. The water was cold, the homemade soap was shiny. Little bubbles found themselves in between his bones and the smell was soft and clean. He dried his hands with a kitchen towel and descended from the bench.
“Tanks Pops, it was delicious. I’m going to rest on my laurels in the woods so don’t search me or I can leave you planted” he said with a proud wink. “BROTHER THAT WAS AWFUL!” Cried Poppy, while Lavender walked to the door. “TRY TO NOT WANDER TO FAR FROM YOUR POST, SOME HUMAN COULD NEED OUR HELP” He raised his thumb in answer.
“What should I do today?” He asked himself. He turned to the little garden in front of the house where the vegetables grew slowly, they needed a little attention, so he got his hand close to them and let a little magic reach them, just enough to make the stems stronger and the leaves greener. Maybe he should make soup for the stranger, it should be cold to stand all night in the open.
He went to the back of the house expecting to find the flower crown from the last night to dissolve it into seeds but found with surprise that it wasn’t in the vine swing, nor near either, “Maybe some animal have founded it interesting” he tried to think, but his heart rose in front of the idea of the stranger taking it with him, that his gift wasn’t left behind.
With a smile he walked to his post, thinking of other gifts he could give the stranger, in ways to get through to him. The wooden structure received him with a smell of moss, and the wind passed by bringing with him the rich smell of the forest. He looked at the dozens of succulents resting everywhere, and slowly give them water and a little push of magic. Some of them have beautiful flowers, others cute colors like purple or red. “How is the day going?” he asked them “Is the weather nice?” he continued without an answer.
Those were his babies, his sweet babies. Some of them were big and extended their leaves way far from the pot, some of them hung in long beards from the pot, but others were barely a little leave in a little pot with the rots like small white hairs.
The silence of the forest kept him company while he cut and organized his little friend plants, but his heart was still uneasy. “What Am I getting into?” He asked his green companions, “This sure has to be for the better or Thistle is killing me”. Not much have happened, he remembered himself, it was just two encounters that he had had with the stranger, and there was no way of knowing when or if the stranger would come back to Nature Tale. It felt sad in some way, just how easily one can disappear from others’ lives.
But, he thought, if the stranger was willing to give him an opportunity by coming back, he will give everything to make that work. The choice was in the stranger’s hands. He suddenly felt a little tired so he closed his eyes to take a nap. He could hear the movement of the leaves on the trees as the wind passed through them, and the constant breath of the world around them. A squirrel jumped from one tree to another, making a funny noise on the landing, and a butterfly flew curiously towards the daisies on the side of the road. He could even hear some frog singing (maybe it was some monster).
He fell asleep slowly and rejoiced in the peace it got him. Sleep can free someone from any worries. The time slipped through him like a deep river leaving behind a feeling of easiness in his joints. Somehow, he felt like he was floating, swimming in the middle of the air, suspended above the clouds. The smell of his own lavender flowers filled him with tranquility, he knew they were growing stronger with his happiness.
A firm and slow sound of steeps opened his way into the forest, some twigs broke because of them, and Lavender was finally awoken. He didn’t open his eyes; he chooses to leave them closed waiting for the unknown owner of these steps to come closer. Suddenly his body felt conscious, on high alert waiting to know the intentions of that person. I could be a human; everyone knows how devastating can humans be.
With the sound getting closer and closer, Lavender felt the tension leave him in a sigh, this could only be someone really big, but those steps seem calm and calculated, as only one that already knows the forest could have, and the sound of a cane preceded those footsteps. This only could be another monster and he thinks he knows who. Just a meter from his post he heard a throat sound, and a deep raspy voice talked “Hey little friend, hope I’m not waking you up” I was the old and trustful Elderberry.
“Nop, I’m just waking up” He answered. “Maybe you have some time to walk with this old friend and talk a little,” asked the older with an arched eyebrow “That would be nice”. And so, the walk started. It was easy to walk next to Elderberry, even if he was so big, because he waited for a little in every step, probably because of age and the sore left knee that make necessary the use of a cane.
“It’s a nice day,” said Lavender.
“Shure it is. It’s hard to tell that it used to be different.”
“…”
“Seems like you have something in your mind, little friend”
“Am I that transparent?”
“Ha-ha”
“Well, maybe I’m doing something I’m not supposed to”
“Does it feel right?”
“It does.”
“Then it’s not a bad thing”
“I hope so”
The bear stopped a moment as if in deep thought, then he looked up reminiscing something, and looked Lavender with the eyes ready to tell a long story.
“You see, Lavender, when I walk like this, I can’t believe the way we use to live on the surface” Started the bear “It was such sorrow to wake up every day and see the state in what it was the world, the forest was burning, the air was dense, and there was almost not clean water. I can remember the pain we felt back then, not only the emotional one, no, the physical, our own bodies, our own magic crying out for help.” He stopped for a second.
“I can understand why we put that barrier up, there was no other way, but…” He stopped. “We tried so hard to reason with the humans, to make they stop. For a long time, the only thing we could make was to work all they using our magic to stop the damage from spreading. But it was never enough. The more we spoke to the humans about the problem, the most aggressive they turn, till ours were dying by their hands. It was bad times.”
“Everything turn for the better when we put the barrier on; the air was clean, there was water, and we didn’t have to mourn our deaths anymore.” He looked up at the ceiling of the cave, and let out a deep sigh. “But it doesn’t feel right, it has never felt right. Sometimes I wish we have fought more, that we haven’t left our world to perish. The humans were awful adversaries, but not all of them were bad, some of them tried to fight by our side, but they also died at the hands of other humans. There were also kids, like Buttercup, human kids that will never have the opportunity of growing up in a world full of nature and green. It kills me inside.”
“So maybe what I’m trying to say is that you shouldn’t give up on what feels right, that maybe there is still hope, that it matters to keep trying…In a way I’m still trying for those people…Maybe I’m just rambling again, I’m just too old”
Lavender looked at Elderberry with a mix of sadness and understanding and nodded slowly. It did make sense, to want to try to save all those people, that desire was deep in the heart of all Nature Tale people, but somehow no one was capable of doing it. In some way the story resonated with him, hearing another voice telling him to try to save the stranger, or at least try to understand him, that feeling comfort him. “Thanks,” he said.
The talk continued, this time without any sad history. They talked mostly of mundane things; how beautiful the trees were, any rumor in the town, the new flavors of tea at Brook’s. The time flowed as if outside were as calm as this forest full of life, even if it wasn’t. At some point, the bear said goodbye in an intersection and walked calmly till his poncho was not visible in the distance.
Lavender turn in his heels and walked back to his post. While walking, he recollected all sorts of wildflowers, putting them in his pockets. There were daisies and dandelions, bluebells, and chamomiles. He picked as many as he could, but with the greatest of cares, as he didn’t want to harm them. The rest of the day passed in a breeze as he tried to form the bouquet of wildflowers and look for the post he was assigned to; soon the beautiful and dark night took over the sky that could be seen from the cracks in the stone sealing of the cave.
The walk home was even quieter than the one in the morning, but even then, Lavender’s steps couldn’t be heard as he walked like the lightest of cats. The crickets let their sound out and clear, flying through the air as knives, filling the air as bells. The fireflies roamed freely all the flowers with their beautiful incandescent bodies. The air smelled like the one of a fairytale, he thought that maybe it was one.
He teleported towards his room and searched everywhere for a string, till he found one under some pillows; it was from an old present from Rose. He pulled the flowers from his pockets and carefully started to form a little bouquet arranging the flower by color and shape. Then he took the rope thread that looked like a little braid and tied together the bouquet. The result was not bigger than both of his hands but seemed like a lovely enough present.
He walked down the first floor and saw Poppy in the kitchen “I’ll come in a moment Pops” He said loudly, and heard an “OK BROTHER!” as an answer when he was closing the front door. He went directly towards the vines’ swing hoping not to be late. He held his breath for a moment and waited, then the air filled with static and he smiled.
“Hey!” there was no response “How’s everything going?” Again silence. “I can’t stay today, It's gaming night, you know?” He asked himself if the stranger would feel disappointed or if it would mean anything at all. “Pops wouldn’t let me miss one of those.”
“Sorry, we could meet tomorrow tough, same hour, same channel Ha-ha” He took the flowers out of his pocket and waved them proudly in the air. “I made those for leaving you planted. I found them walking this morning and thought you’ll like them” He tried to look behind the tree and maybe see the stranger behind it, but he didn’t see anything. “Well… I’ll say goodbye, can’t leave Pops waiting!” He waved his hand and walked into the house.
From the dark, a glitching silhouette appeared. With a couple of steps, it got to the vines’ swing and extended an even more glitching hand. I reached for the little bouquet and hold it tightly while a pair of blue and red eyes looked at it with curiosity.

Chapter Text

He looked at the little flowers in his hand and felt a pressure in his chest, like a knot covering his broken soul. He felt anxious in one way but empty in another. It was an amalgam of many feelings yet unnamed for him. The smell of the flowers traveled towards him and tickled a little. Why did he have a present? Why does this Lavender keep giving flowers to him?
The questions floated through the air, and the cold wind froze his shoulders. He covered himself a little more with his scarf, the faint smell of Papyrus filling him with nostalgia. Why did he keep going back to Nature Tale? He asked himself with a frustrating rage emerging. But he suddenly felt like he didn’t want to come back home, like the impulse moving him forward disappeared all of the sudden.
He seated himself where before was Lavender, the vine swing moved a little with the new weight on it, and Fatal legs followed the movement. It was a comfortable seat, that must be why Lavender spent so much time in it. Looking at the flowers in his hand he felt purposeless, useless and so, so little. He used to think he would be able to keep going, that he didn’t need any more than his love for Papyrus, but yet there he was, alone and sobbing about this incomprehensible feeling of emptiness.
It didn’t make any sense, he wasn’t supposed to feel that way, and he wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place. He took one petal in between his fingers and tore it apart, and then another and another; he shouldn’t let these stupid flowers get pollen in his head; he wouldn’t let Papyrus behind. The code of the flowers was green, yellow, and blue, and was simple and somewhat endearing, when he tore it apart it was slowly transformed into a glitchy goop of unrecognizable numbers and letters; he liked that process. He broke the stems and the petals, and the string that held everything together; all got broken in his hands, till his feelings got numb.
He considered throwing the unrecognizable mass away in the grass, but he didn’t want anyone apart from the so-called Lavender to know he was there. Even then, he would prefer if that skeleton didn’t feel his presence so easily, that he could be all alone in Nature Tale, breathing the clear air and hearing the animals he didn’t know sing. So he saved the glitchy goop in his pockets to discard once he got home. It felt greasy and gross but one has to sacrifice comfort for the sake of secrecy.
He doubted for a little while about raising his head and looking at the landscape in front of him. He felt like a brick was placed on his head like a rock was sitting in his throat, he felt insecure and confused, but somehow expectant about what he would see. He played with his fingers a for a while, thinking about what to do, till he slowly raised his head. At first, he didn’t see anything, as he was blinded by a light that wasn’t even there, but his eye-lights slowly recovered from the blurriness till the nighttime scenery appeared in front of him.
The view made him feel so little, but somehow, he liked the feeling, he felt like a little ant in a big maze of a green multitude of plants. The moonlight filtered from above through cracks in the thick rock wall of the cave, and that rock itself was covered in moss and dew. Everywhere he looked there were flowers and trees, the plants surrounded one another to the point that the trees got vines engraving their trunks with their roots. From above, the moonlight hit little falling leaves that flew freely and slowly, seeming like almost awake and alive beings. There were fireflies all over the place like little lanterns of even more little fairies, some moths could also be found sitting in logs and flowers, some of them looked like little cotton balls, some like little angels. A buzz in the left side of his head made him turn and he found dragonflies dancing all over the place.
He opened his eye sockets up, trying to capture all the stimuli of this place, he didn’t notice but his glitches were fewer and fewer with every minute he observed it. It was as if some kind of magic took his senses prisoner; he felt like a different monster. The air that entered his nostrils filled him like an opium drug; he felt exalted like a child seeing a carnival for the first time but content like an old man washing the sunset. The awesomeness of the unknown, he thought to himself.
He had passed so much of his life trapped in a dark and endless void, only looking at a cold and tragic world through a little glitching window; he had passed so many days in the awful company of the hundred of eco-flowers screaming with the voices of all his victims. The infinite white, the infinite black, the shadows always followed him, the emptiness was always behind him.
Maybe that was the reason he heated so much the view from Outer Tale, that immensity of the space, no matter how many stars and galaxies you put in it it will always feel wrong to him. He has heard that Error loved that place, that he was always sitting alone on some rock spacing out in Outer Tale, that that was one of the little places he wouldn’t ever destroy. Maybe that was another reason he hated that place so much, maybe that was the proof that he and Error could never be as alike to each other as the monsters used to think.
Nature Tale was cozy and comforting, an oasis in the middle of a deserted world, every place felt like the warmth of a home, and the nights he experienced there weren’t dark but shone in a way he didn't think it was possible. It seemed dreamlike; a perfect place for a perfect home. He found himself dreaming of a house shared with Papyrus there, he dreamed of the nights he could pass beside his brother there, the meals they could share; the happiness of his brother.
His brother… He felt so alone at that moment, so disconnected from reality, his eyes weighed with the weight of tears that couldn’t exit his eyes. His shoulders felt tense and hard as a rock as if all his ribs were fused into a big chunk of bone. He felt tired and useless, somehow dumb as if he were just a mistake. He wanted to run, to run far away, further on the horizon when he couldn’t find himself. “yOu’RE JuSt AnOTHer diRty GLitch tHat I HaVe TO cLeaN Up.” The words of Error filled his head, and make his broken soul hurt. It felt like a knife penetrating everything again and again.
His glitches came back in a storm of white, black, and cyan boxes that covered his entire body and his throat tried to scream, but even his words were shattered into pieces. He needed to get out of there, he needed…
The frustration filled every bone of him. Not this again, not this. The air was missing from every breath he take with his mouth wide open. He was going to die. He was sure, this time he was going to die. His hands were shaking as if the earth under his feet were trembling. Soon the edges of his vision turned black and blurry. He embraced himself and closed his hands over his arms, but no matter how much he press them his vision wouldn't come back. He wouldn´t come back. Tears fell from his eyesockets, bitter and salty as blades cutting through his face.
A smell penetrated through the thick air, interrupting the sacredness of his despair. The sweet aroma stopped all his thoughts in an instant, and he felt a breeze undoing knots all over his body. Like a river transformed into a waterfall, the screams hiding in his throat fell freely as tears down his face. Unlike before these tears cleaned his face as pure water, slowly passing like the comforting hand of a lover.
He let the seconds pass through him like the soft air around him. He let himself take a break and surface again as a new monster. When he raised his head again there was no trace of tears on it. His eyes searched rapidly for the cause of the mysterious smell, besides him rested an enormous bush of lavender flowers, with its little flowers pointing in all directions. Now, when he was calmer, the smell of them seemed a little tacky, too sweet, and too strong for his taste.
There was just one possibility for that bush to appear suddenly in that place. He felt dizzy when he realized that Lavender has seen him in that state, it was the second time that has happened to him. He seemed to not be able to maintain his dignity in front of strangers, always falling into his despair too easily. His cheeks felt hot and his hands shut instantly into a thigh knot.
He rapidly got up from the swing and walked as fast as he could far away from it, he opened the white portal with his right hand and passed through it as if his life were depending on it. He felt the atmospheric pressure release from his shoulders as he entered the infinite emptiness of his save screen. The eco-flowers spoke to him: “Crack-crack” The sound of broken bones filled the room. Then far away he heard a little flower say “BROTHER” in the broken voice of the tall skeleton.
As if that sound was a premonition, he came just moments after it. “BROTHER ARE YOU BACK?” the tall skeleton asked kindly, but Fatal did not answer. “I WAS THINKING OF ADDING A NEW INGREDIENT TO MY SPAGHETTI RECIPE, WANNA HEAR ABOUT IT?” The silence followed Fatal till the middle of the eco-flowers, which welcomed him with more screams and cracks. He lay down in between the big blue petals and closed his eyes.
He watched his brother sleep, probably something had made him really mad if he was taking a nap in an accurate position. An unknown impulse made him come close to the sleeping body of his brother, he kneeled down beside him and looked at him closely. This time there were almost no glitches on his brother's face. As if he was sleeping comfortably his chest raised slowly making the sound of the air passing through his nostrils soft and welcoming.
Something made him feel calmer, for once the immensity of the void around him felt quiet in the best of ways; for once it felt like home. A smell caught his attention. A soft sweet breeze floated from his brother's body. It was a flower smell… where did his brother go that day.

Chapter Text

His hands moved rhythmically stitching together uneven parts of code. Once and again his needle penetrated them and his red string held them close. He kept his eyes open interpreting the long lines of code full of symbols and numbers. One mistake and he couldn't have Papyrus beside him. One mere mistake.
The resulting product in front of him didn't look at all like Papyrus, but he kept trying to make it look like him. This time he had put a little more of Blueberry's blue code, but took away the Sans' parts that lived inside it and replaced it with Carrot's orange Papyrus code. To clean the undesirable Under Swap code he added lots of code of Timelines’ Papyrus. The end result was a sea of red with blue and orange bits here and there.
"Good, good, you are almost there" The voice behind him made him lose his focus. "A little more and you'll have Papyrus back" He ignored the voice; as he had learned before there was no use in talking with him. "Ignoring me again huh? I'm the only one who understands you, you know?" But he kept silent as a stoic soldier as if he wasn’t hearing any voice as if he was really alone in the save screen.
The kind voice of Patch interrupted them. "BROTHER DO YOU NEED HELP? I CAN HOLD THINGS OR SOMETHING IF YOU WANT" He looked at him for a while, weighing his options, till he decided that Patch wouldn't cause any trouble. His only answer was a nod and soon his self-proclaimed brother was seated beside him.
One didn't need to be a genius to note the discomfort in the tall skeleton, but he was the one offering his help so there was no use in denying it. Patch held the parts he was stitching close, making sure that they were in the right position. His hands were shaking and he looked far away from that corpse, but he held it firmly nonetheless. For an unknown reason, he wasn´t the only one shaking.
The air was cold, the light traveled more like a mist. He didn't know where that light came from but it did hit him like a punch, leaving a weak shadow to hide under him.
The echo of every sound he made his way through every echo flower. It sounded like an old clock, a machine of sounds working backward, with a million synchronized parts moving non-stop behind him.
The sounds crawled up his spine slowly, and one look at Patch's eyes showed him that he wasn't the only one feeling watched. In this immensity of white and black one could never be sure of being alone. Everything felt empty, more even his half-broken soul, and the space around his eye lights in his eye sockets.
He focused on checking the code’s lines, but an incessant sound in the back of his head kept him from ending his job. He got up from his kneeling position and look around, he started to walk away when Patch quickly said “LET ME GO WITH YOU, I CAN HELP” but Fatal shook his head in denial: There was an intruder in his world.
He opened a portal with his right hand, and let himself through the multiple white glitches into the even whiter space outside the save screen. At first, he didn’t see anything but soon a nightmarish image appeared in front of him: Sans was being held hostage by a big black tentacle; he was struggling and kicking his legs everywhere, and the monster holding him laughed in a loud and deep voice.
For a moment he froze, his heels were glued to the ground, a mix of rage and fear took his body prisoner, he couldn't even breathe. He didn't recognize that deep black skeleton, and even if his memory was as good as one of a goldfish he could be certain that this was their first encounter. The skeleton turned his gaze towards him, and with a playful noise he addressed him: "It took you so long to come ''. The tentacle that held Sans threw him in one movement, and his body hit the ground with a dry sound.
He raised a hand and called his Gaster Blasters that floated proudly above him. "WhAt Do YOu wAnT?" he dared to ask with his broken voice. But the black skeleton only laughed as if this was nothing but a game. Offended he shot in that monster's direction hoping he will be nothing but smoke when the lights disappear. But the monster dodged them as was expected for any Sans, and he laughed louder.
"I think You are not understanding the position you are in" Started the skeleton, but he just shot again. "My name is Nightmare and I come with a proposal for you”. He pulled out his strings and distracted the monster with another shot, then he trow the strings trying to hold Nightmare’s arm, but he dodged his attacks again. “You know… you are being so rude, you should at least hear me before judging” Another laugh, another attack dodged.
He was out of breath, he felt small and useless, and Nightmare's laugh echoed in his head. “You are quite strong, I must admit” This time Nightmare was the one moving, and soon he had to dodge the sharp tentacles that were thrown at him. Another shot, another tentacle attack; he was getting out of breath. Nightmare got uncomfortably close to his face and said: “I’m actually looking for a little bit of help in my work, and a monster like you seem perfect” he teleported far away but in a second Nightmare was in his face again, and this time he didn’t have time to dodge the attack that was thrown at him.
The tentacle was sharp and pierced his chest like a knife. The pain spread from the wound all over his body like wildfire. He felt the air leaving his chest. Nightmare seemed as calm as someone that had pinched a bean during lunch. The tentacle reached deeper into his chest till Nightmare was able to hold him in the air with it. This seemed like the end.
“Be calm friend, I’m not here to kill you, as I said I have a proposal for you” Fatal looked in terror at the calm expression on that monster's face. The pain was almost unbearable, he barely could breathe, and his eyes were losing focus. “You know I’m on a search for new acquaintances, some help to get to where I deserve to be, some help to end some inconveniences on my way to the top. And you, my friend are just made for the job”.
He raised his head angrily, he was no one pet. He had his own problems to care for, and no matter how bad his injuries were, he wasn't kneeling in front of anyone. It must have shown that on his face because Nightmare started to laugh. “I’m still not getting my idea across: You will work for me, it’s not a suggestion, is an order”
With a movement, Nightmare threw him to the grown the same way he threw Sans moments ago. “I’ll keep in touch,” he said while walking away, and no matter if he tried to reach him with his hand, he kept getting smaller as he went far away.
“question: Need a hand(?)” suddenly asked Sans smiling at him with his half, white face. He extended his hand with some kind of fondness but he didn’t accept it and tried to get up by himself. “Bro, I. val(don’t) think is the = moment. val.(YOU) are //totally >wasted”. He put his arm below his and help him get up, but he could do nothing about the pain. Once up on his own feet, he started to walk away too.
“Where (?) YOU = going (?)” Sans asked from his back, but he did not answer because he did not know either. He opened a portal by inertia and limping got through the white glitches he got to whatever it lead him to. A soft breeze welcomed him, bringing in it the smell of a multitude of plants, he was again in Nature Tale.
He rested against the same tree that has hidden him in the last few days. He touched his own bleeding chest and let go a long sigh trying to ease the pain, but it wasn't effective. He reached his mouth with his fingers ready to turn the blood into long red strings. He pulled them slowly with a strange fear of them breaking; once he got them to be the right size he took from one of his pockets a needle made of his own bones.
While he threaded the red string in the blue needle, his mind started to wander in search of sounds. As a cornered animal, he searched for any menacing, but only found kind and relaxing sounds. It was raining, but as there were only a few holes in the stone sealing, it only rained in a few spots. As from those same holes came the light the rain seemed iridescent, like a waterfall of moon drops, a river of shine. The sound was also mesmerizing, as the water hit the floor like a cosmic drum, but not as such glorious sound made from the thunders with the deep voice of a gregorian choir.
Bats beat his membranous wings all over the place making a tickling sound and looking like a shadow’s spectacle. The earth smelled like wet soil and the air touched him like a soft mystical hand. For a moment a mist surrounded him, making him see all in a comfortable greyish-white, his bones fell just a little wet as the cloud passed through him.
It always amuse him how quiet and loud could Nature Tale be at the same time. In the silence live a million alive beings singing in harmony, no sound toke the front line, no sound was the protagonist, all echoed at the same time as if that were no more than one big living creature.
Soft steeps came in his direction, then a pause, and then become closer and closer. He tried to get up as fast as possible but could not do it. Another pause make as he became panic’s prey, “You’re not ready ha?” Lavender’s voice seemed a little disappointed.
“Just wanted to check if you are alright buddy; it smells like a lot of blood there” Another pause and a deep sigh. “I’m going for healing supplies, I’m not going to get near you, but you need to take care of those wounds”.
Then the steps grow quieter as Lavender went far away from his position. He let out a sigh and let himself become calm again. Soon a stupor grew all over him, every bone got soft with weakness; the unconsciousness winning over him.

Chapter Text

The herbs and spices barely touched his hands as he searched through them. He looked at the hundred potions on the shelf but seemed not to find anything of use. Too little for those wounds, too little for dulling that pain. If he were that kind of monster he would have cursed already. How on earth would he have prepared that closet if when while in an emergency it came useless? He was on verge of tears but maintained composure and looked for ways to resolve his dilemma. Calmer, he took the few containers that were of use and put them in a basket with some food and beverages to help him distract himself from the pain.
"DID SOMETHING HAPPEN BROTHER?" Poppy's voice startled him. "WHY THE MEDICINE?" He took a minute to get his senses straight. "Acorn fell and hurt himself, he doesn't want to worry anyone so it is a super duper secret." He lied to his brother with a straight face. "CAN I HELP?" Poppy's eyes were pleading. "No need bro, I have everything under control" Poppy seemed a little sad but it served a greater good.
He walked slowly towards the door as if he hadn't had any worries. Under the gaze of Poppy's eyes, every step felt like dropping concrete to the ground. Dry cold heavy steps filled the room with their sounds. Any movement felt weird and wrong, a masquerade that robbed seconds of the life of the fellow skeleton waiting for him in the open. Once at the door he forced a smile towards his brother and held his breath as he walked through the door.
The air received him with some kind of mockery, blowing wind onto his head with a grin. He morphed from a happy easy-going older brother to a desperate friend that could lose someone just by taking a minute more than necessary.
He appeared the closer he could to the old tree he always used to hide and put the basket on the ground. "I'm back" he nervously said and noted how dull the sound of static was as if someone was turning the volume down on a TV. "I have some medicine, I put it on a basket so you can apply it yourself" Then again there was no response. "I'm getting nervous. Can you move your arm if you're hearing me?" But there was no movement.
"I'm sorry, but I have to come close. '' He said as he approached the tree. As he grew closer the smell of blood filled his nose thrills but he felt some relief noticing there was no hint of dust in the air. He could teleport but he didn't want to scare him to death, so he walked fast instead.
The tree revealed the skeleton body to Lavender, and he froze in terror; there was a lot of blood and the ribs grew out of his chest like branches of a tree. He knelt in front of that body and reached out for the medicine in the basket. He applied first an ointment that would prevent infection, afraid of hurting him, he moved his fingers with the greatest of care putting just a little ointment at a time with soft touches here in there.
The following step was not of his liking, but as with all hard things in life, it was unavoidable. He pulled up his sleeves and inhaled deeply. His hands were shaking but he controlled his breathing till there weren't. He held the first rib that was poking out his chest and with a firm hand pulled into his rightful position. It let a crack sound out. Then he took bandages out of the basket and use them to hold together the rib, after that he tried to hold in place the rib by using bandages around the scapula and clavicle.
He continued with the rest of the bones one by one, till that skeleton rib cage looked like a spider web. Some of them pointed to the outside others to the inside, but all of them were equally damaged. Whatever had caused that to this monster had surely moved a lot inside him to cause those kinds of wounds.
Blood tinted the white of the fabric slowly as the time passed through them like a breeze, and he felt so, so tired. He had purposefully let him be unconscious through the worst part of the process, now he needed to wake up.
He extracted a little vial and held it in front of his face: the vapors of this will awake his unconscious fella. He was certainly nervous, but there was no use in prolonging his problems. He opened it, and instantly he could smell the vicious aroma that emanated from it. Then he put it under the nose trills of the skeleton and waited.
Soon it made effect and he woke up shaking. Someone who could not wake up with the pain of his own ribs breaking was instantly revived by the mere smell of some liquid; that was the strength of this potion, a useful resource in a monster´s first aid luggage. He put the lid back on to free himself of the nauseating odor of the potion and put the vial in the basket carefully.
The monster in front of him was coughing and shaking uncomfortably and seemed to be in a lot of pain, but luckily he seemed to be in all his senses and in good shape mentally. The glitches moved from one side to another as if they had just returned with their owner.
It wasn't that they had disappeared when he was unconscious, in fact, while he was busy putting the ribs back in place he had to put his hands through some of them and could testify that they tickled a little and made one feel detached from one's own body. No, it was that then they seemed dull, like dormant ghosts floating mid-air, instead, now they moved everywhere in fast flashes like guardians that have just woken up from a long but unexpected nap.
Maybe it had something to do with the pain, he thought looking at the sad image of a monster in front of him. The movement and the glitches aligned with the ones of him as well as the now loud sound of static that accompanied them. It made the scene sadder than it already was.
Once the first wave of pain freed him the stranger moved his attention to him with an alarmed expression on his face. He got up fast in a movement that surely had to have hurt him. His breathing increased speed and every part of his body turned scared and tense.
Lavender also stood up, but slowly to not scare him. He raised his hands and said:
"Sorry, I had to come close to be able it help you, but I can go if you want"
Wind passed through his fingers, and his hands up in the air felt like oxidated asps of a windmill.
"There's pie in that basket beside you, if you eat it now you can heal some of your wounds."
There was no response again, so he tried to smile as friendly as he could. He made his flowers produce more scent so he would calm down and maybe talk to him.
"It's okay if you're afraid right now, those wounds seem to hurt a lot, and you don't know much about me. But I can assure you that I mean no harm to you"
It made him feel so frustrated not being able to connect with that monster, but the worst part was seeing how scared he was as if a mere movement from his part could kill him of fear.
"I don't know if you remember but my name is Lavender, but you can call me Lav."
He tried to ease the tension.
"You haven't told me your name"
The question traveled through the air slowly, and sat in between the two of them like a troubled owl. The monster thought for a moment, then opened his mouth to give an answer but closed it soon after. It looked like he didn't know the answer himself. As the moment grew longer, Lavender felt the need to say something.
"Is ok if you don't tell me right now, we can always talk later, right?"
He said laughing a little. The skeleton nodded.
"How about you eat that pie now? Before it gets cold"
The monster reached out for the basket, and searched inside it for a while till a single slice of pie appeared in his hands. He examined the food carefully even smelling it as if he suspected there was poison in it. Then he took the smallest of bites of it, then another and another, till it was no more small bites but bites that took big chunks of pie.
He was clearly hungry, and Lavender wished he had brought him a bigger slice of pie. He sat down and searched for something in his pockets til he found a small blue needle. He extended red strings from his mouth and passed them through the needle eye.
He tried to stitch something in his chest but the angle seemed wrong and his hands were too tired to do it right. Lavender doubted for a moment and then spoke.
"I can help you, you know? Just show what to do."
The skeleton looked at him for a while and then extended a hand with the needle. The hand trembled. Lavender received it with the kindest of smiles, happy for being accepted. He pointed at the wounds in his chest and Lavender quickly understood why.
When he first penetrated the bone it appeared like a hard rock, so he had to use his whole body to pass the needle, but he soon learned how to make it work. He soon realized that he wasn't stitching the bone together but something else, a material he hasn't encountered before, but whatever it was it was healing his wounds pretty fast.
One stitch, another one, many more, a lot more, till his pace was perfect and his technic clear, so he felt equally sad and proud when he stitch all the ribs together. Then he looked up at his face.
"All clear here. Do you need anything else?"
He shook his head. The silence filled the space between them.
"Oh! I almost forget this!"
He reached for the basket again, till he found a cute white flower crown.
"I made this for you. They are snowdrops, I thought that you would look cool with them on your head” He said while putting the flower crown on his head: He didn’t move an inch. “At some time it was associated with death and doom, but their other meaning is so much better” The white flowers find themselves at home in his friend's head, melting in the white of his own head. “They mean rebirth because they can stand the winter, and they are the first to appear in spring” He looked at him with big eyes, like in deep contemplation, those pair of blue and red seemed like beautiful gems.
He smiled at those beautiful eyes, and reaching out with his bare hand he straighten the flower crown in his head. “You can rebirth, you know? I know seems a little obtrusive but you seem so, so tired like you wanna stop…” He just turned his head away so Lavender could not see his beautiful eyes anymore. “I know, I know, it's your decision to make, just know that you can always return here” His eyes looked at him with some sort of confusion, but Lavender only smiled; he said those words truthfully. “I mean it”.
A comfortable silence landed on their heads, and there was no need to fill it. The sound of the wind against the leaves of the trees flew through them but their eyes remained connected. Then a soft sound left his mouth. Lavender arched what should have been his eyebrow and got closer. “FaTAl” That voice was broken, that voice wasn't confined to precise sounds but filled the whole ambient. “fAtAL, ThAts MY NAme”.
The smile on Lavender’s face expanded with bewilderment “Such a dramatic name. It suits you” He laughed a little. “I like it” Somehow Fatal’s face turned red. This was the first time he had said his name out loud, till that moment he just knew he could not be called Sans or Geno since he have changed a lot for those names, this was instead a name only for him, a name he would keep forever.

Chapter Text

So many things happen when one gets a new name. The world as it is doesn't seem the same all of the sudden, and with the new identity a new self is born again. Fatal found himself in the dicotomy of feelings he was put in. He hadn't expected to find his name on the verge of death with a stranger to tell it to. He had thought instead of a more dramatic setting, something along the lines of a final battle with Error when he were to win or something equally childish. But now that he had said out loud his name to Lavender everything seemed just perfect. He still remembers the soft smell of the wet forest, and the dull light of the scenery, and it feels like the day he was finally born as a unique being. Long before were his days as Geno, even further were the ones as Sans; he was finally his own self and it was a great revelation.
As he walked through the infamous garden of echo flowers, he for once wasn't listening to their morbid songs, the laments and cracks flew pass him as a breeze pass towards and old tree, its roots so deep that the mere kiss of the wind cannot disturb him. He walked fast and firmly and he felt tall and strong, different, new.
His wounds hasn't disappeared so he lumped his victorious path through the flowers, no matter how painful breathing was it all seemed worth it in that new light.
"BROTHER, ARE YOU OK? OMG IS THAT BLOOD IN YOUR SHIRT? WHAT HAPPENED? IS EVERYTHING ALRIGHT?"
His brothers voice passed through him like everything else, and he kept walking towards no goal in specific. Somehow the flowers looked quite comforting for this new him.
Without noticing he was searching through the floor. The wounds hurting for the movement, the melting eyes searching frenectly and the two hands extended in front of him as an sensible organ.
"BROTHER DON'T DO THAT! YOU ARE HURT, YOU NEED TO REST"
The words didn't reach his ears, numb as he was by the strange urge in his chest. Touch the ground, feel it, look for any imperfection on it, find nothing, search again. The cycle was some kind of perfect enchant calling for whatever he needed so desperly.
Then his hands finally touched something and his eyes followed with amusement the sudden discovery: a soft nest of dandelions that dispersed their seeds as soon as he touched them. He moved the echo flowers that covered them like a duty full hen and observed them for a long moment.
They were few and small and formed a nearly perfect and fluffy circle. But something was odd about them, he noticed quickly. Some of them had ground two heads glued in the middle, some of them had half leaves only and the colors seemed to change rapidly giving a total different picture in a matter of seconds.
"WHAT ARE THOSE? THEY ARE BEAUTIFUL, I DIDN'T KNOW WE COULD GROW SOMETHING LIKE THAT HERE"
He didn't need too much time to find the little glitches on the flowers. They were, certainly, very small glitches, ranging in a variety of colors from the purest white to beautiful reds, blues and greens, he even found some yellow ones.
The tall skeleton curiously picked one of the few little flowers in between all those fluffy heads and looked at it with some kind of dedication. Fatal felt generous that night so he opened his mouth and said:
"DAndElIOns"
The other raised away from the flowers looking thankful but without understanding.
"tHey ARE cAlled DandELIONs"
A smile adorned his face, as surprise and amazement mixed in him as he was recognized for the first time by his brother.
"THANK YOU, THOSE ARE MY FAVORITE FLOWERS NOW! I HAVEN'T SEEN MANY MORE BUT COMPARED TO THE BLUE FLOWERS THIS ARE SO MUCH KINDER AND CUTER"
He held the little plant as if it was a treasure and couldn't hold a stream of tears falling down his cheek bones. He must be thankful to them for giving him the opportunity to hear his brother's voice, it was the first time for a chat about something so mundane with him, and he felt so warm inside for being acknowledged.
Fatal didn't notice those tears, he was too focused on the flowers' sight. He breathed in and then out and kneel again on the floor. He extended his hands again and kept searching: he now knew what to look for.
It didn't take long for him to find a potpourri of wild flowers under the big petals of an echo flower. The colors amazed him for their variety. The smell attacked him with an unexpected kindness.
They too were fully covered in glitches, actually even more glitches nested in their petals and leaves than in the dandelions. The colors in those glitches were vast and unique. Their movements and shapes were also distinct from any other glitches he had seen before.
"THERE'S MORE OF THEM"
The tall skeleton jumped up and down in excitement. But Fatal ignored him again.
"BROTHER WHAT ARE THOSE IN YOUR HEAD? I HAVEN'T SEEN THEM BEFORE"
He tried to touch the white crown in his head, but he pushed his hand away. Then silence; Fatal reached the crown himself and held it in his hands. He looked at it for a long time and then started to rip it apart methodically.
This time he didn't have anger inside him, but he couldn't hide the pleasure that the destruction give him.
"BROTHER WHAT ARE YOU DOING? THEY ARE CUTE LITTLE FLOWERS, PLEASE DON'T DESTROY THEM"
His movements kept the pace as just little traces of code remained. He knew the flowers would grow with or without him breaking the code, but he wanted to leave a mark on them, he wanted to help them be born.
These ones were his second favorites, in part because he knew what they meant. He put the gup in his pockets in the line of the shocked eyes of the fragmented other. He needed to see his favorites.
Kneel again, search carefully, what's that? He was being help to search, it didn't matter, touch the ground, touch the ground a lot, look under every echo flower but found nothing.
"BROTHER HERE THEY ARE! THE ARE SO BEAUTIFUL"
He teleported as if he was running, making a pop noise like the one an error message does when it appears on a screen. The tall one jumped, but he didn't care. He kneel as fast as he could and moved away a big echo flower petal. And yes, there they were, big and proud under the shadow of blue petals, orange and golden like the sun. He didn't know the name of those flowers but they shone like a welcoming morning sun and made Fatal feel like he was finally home.
In those flowers one could not find any trace of glitches or distortion, only their pure raw color. He surely knew why. That first night when he had come back to the savescreen with a confused face and a flower crown in his hands an unspoken desire pull him to put aside the orange flowers and throw them under the echo flower covered ground.
It was strange how he didn't want to see them but he also could not bring himself to harm them. But it was completely different for the dandelions. He didn't know at that moment that they were dandelions actually, he didn't recognize the flowers only accounted with the fluffy version of them. That night he had destroyed completely those white and yellow flowers, or so he thought.
Riping the flowers apart he had thought that he didn't need some stranger's compassion, he didn't need some weirdo approval, he only needed himself and his desire of bringing back Papyrus. But funny as one intentions are he kept the orange flowers that stranger give him.
He looked them in amazement: they were certainly beautiful. But one needs to soon get into action when discovering something as important as one's particular name. He reached his pocket and took the snowdrops' gup. Those two belonged together.
Planting the gup was somewhat easy; he just needed to put it on the ground around the other ones, but he pressed it against the ground for it to be sure to grow.
"THoSe ARE snoWDrOps"
The other clap in response, finally understanding his brother's actions.
"THOSE ARE CUTE TOO, I CAN'T WAIT TO THEM TO GROW!"
Fatal took a moment to reflect before opening his mouth in hesitation. He just needed to do that, it was all that it takes to feel real again.
"FaTal, iM fAtAL, thAt's MY NAme"
It took longer than a minute to be processed in the other's mouth. And even when an answer formed between his teeth he could not give it away.
"I'M PATCH, YOU CAN CALL ME PATCH"
Both looked awkward and glad at the same time, both knew well the weight of a moment like that. Two formless creatures acquired real meaning in one unique word. Both just have been named.
Fatal felt a little sad founding Patch's name, for a part of him hoped that he were his Papyrus, but he weren't and now it looked more like his own monster than before.
Patch couldn't believe he had the courage to say his name out loud. He had known it for a long time, but a part of him was scared of his brother's hatred to a non-Papyrus mistake.
"CAN I STILL CALL YOU BROTHER?"
"Do AS yOu wAnT"
And the conversation stopped. Patch kneeled to see better the new flowers and Fatal went for a needed nap. Both so changed but at the same time the same.

Chapter Text

Fatal, that was the name of that skeleton. Lavender laughed; he didn't expect that revelation. His fox was getting closer and he could not be happier. Come little fox, come to my hands and let me touch your fur.
His fox had ran away soon after saying his name. Face all red and those beautiful eyes evading his own. He saw him open a portal and run fast to a deep black void. Poor fox of him, his eyes sparkled so much in Naturetale's light that seeing him go back to that hole seemed a little bit cruel.
Lavender's hands were covered in Fatal's blood, between his fingers the blue needle remained forgotten by his owner attached to a little bit of red thread. He decided to keep them as a memorial of this new friend. So he carefully placed them on the basket at the side of his hungents and medical herbs.
He then looked to his now red hands and opted to teleport to a place dear to him. The waterfalls filled him with a regular beat of the water hitting the rocks, and he wanted to just relax and meditate a little. But Poppy was waiting for him so he had to be fast.
The water turned red as his hands turned bone white. The feeling of fresh clear water was surely mesmerizing, the sound too, it was inviting him to sleep. But again, he should not sleep.
He could not get those eyes out of his mind somehow, they were a beautiful pair of ruby and sapphire that shone without any other intervention than their own light. He reminded him of a stray cat, a beast to be feared with claws like knives and bites like bear traps. But so alone and desperate for some kind of love.
Know that he had thought that it all made sense: the shy and calculated way he moved, the way he moved away from any touch, the sadness hidden under a tick bone armor. Fatal was as much like his cat as he was his fox.
His… He was doing it again. Growing attached to people that could harm him. It was always the same: he had his little projects, his little secrets, places that only he could access to. But everything always came crumbling down to the ground, everything always hurt him.
King Aspen had given him the work of fixing what's broken. He had said "Kid, you have been born with the ability to help those who have been hurt to heal and find peace. Let's put that gift to good use. You know Rose can defend this land but we cannot simply kill those who fall into NatureTale, we need to try to save them. Can you do that for us?" When he said yes he didn't expect his life to change that much.
Breathe in, breathe out. You're just a vessel of emotions, you don't need to be affected. Breathe in, breathe out, till everything flows like a river.
His bones were white and clean. His hands felt fresh as new. Now was the time to come back home. His fox could wait a little bit in his mind while he paid attention to his brother. He teleported.
"BROTHER IS EVERYTHING ALRIGHT? YOU TOOK SO LONG, WAS THE KID TOO WOUNDED?"
"Relax Pops, he just was telling me the whole story, I can't leave a child planted. Now… it's still dinner time."
The table was set in a minute. And he looked proudly at the dishes his brother had cooked for the two of them. There was salad and tofu, some soup and chopped fruit.
BROTHER YOU LOOK KINDA SAD, IS EVERYTHING ALRIGHT?
"It's gonna be Pops, I'm just overthinking again"
The truth felt as right in his mouth as the sweet fruits he was munching on.
"IT'S OK TO OVERTHINK SOMETIMES, I'M SURE YOU'LL FIGURE IT OUT, BUT YOU CAN TALK TO ME IF YOU CAN'T"
He smiled, there was his brother, always being so true to him. His brother, the only monster he never dubbed his love. His brother, the same brother his fox had killed. But as sad it makes him feel, as desperate and restless he could not hate his fox for it.
When he was little he had a bird living in his house. It was a baby pigeon that had fallen out of their nest. They had broken a wing and needed care and a Lavender that didn't know better had brought them to his home. He named the bird Tweet as any child that always picks the most obvious names.
Tweet couldn't fly as the bone healed wrong so they stayed in his house all summer. They were his best friend. He would read about botany out loud to him. They would eat the same seeds and fruits out of the same pot. They would sleep together.
Even when he made his first flower crown Tweet was there to support him and he made an equally beautiful flower crown for them. They were the best pigeon in the world. And Tweet could have lived a long life, they could have lived years and years to come. But fate thought differently.
One day he falled asleep with his friend under a big old elm. But when he woke up an hour later he could not find them anywhere. Just the little flower crown remained in his lap.
As anyone that loses a dear friend Lavender searched desperately for them. And he found them. Just a few trees away, just a few meters from him. A wounded hawk ate his Tweet. The scene shook him. The ripped flesh and the blood stained feathers. The shaked little round head and the clouded eyes. There's something in the way that an animal eats another that makes him desperately sorry.
He had never eaten meat nor seen an animal dying like that. He had found the worst face of nature, a face he had always tried to not look at.
Just like his Tweet this hawk had his wing broken and probably was too desperate for a meal finding in the little pigeon an easy prey to eat.
Lavender was crying, but he held the wounded bird and the corpse of his friend together with him to his house. He couldn't remember who helped him to cure the bird nor who dug the hole in where he put Tweet in. He only remembers a bodiless voice saying "You are very mature my child to forgive the hawk and to bury your friend. It surely hurts now but soon you'll see how beautiful life and nature are " and then a hand on his shoulder.
And it was true, the hawk was too the best hawk that could be. At first they were aggressive and violent, biting and scratching anyone that came close. They would barely eat and Lavender cried for his best friend and for this new one that could die just of pride and whom his friend died to save.
But time made miracles and the hawk soon turned into a grateful creature. And Lavender would read botany to them and make them beautiful lavender crowns. And even if they never turn as dear as his little pigeon, he sure turned into a good friend. And he cried too when they had to free them in the forest.
His fox maybe was like his hawk, or like Buttercup or Chara and not like the other kids that had fallen. But he always hopes for the best. Yes, hope for the best and wait the worst. That had been taught to him a long time ago. So the question was what was he doing for the worst?
In the worst case scenario the stranger would come back for more copies of the Nature Tale monsters, copies that would get murdered by those shaky hands. But he would notice any intruder getting into Nature Tale as he had now his essence and could give it to Daffodil to search for in the barrier of the cave. One good thing that came with helping Fatal.
Now everytime he would put his feet on this grass he would be there to watch him and that served too to his best case scenario. If he turned violent Lavender would do as with any other unapologetically bad person and would not suppress any attack.
It looked like a plan for him. Maybe he wasn't the strongest monster but if he asked for help from Rose maybe they could win over him. Note: Talk to Daffodil and Rose about Fatal, they would not say anything, he knew. Hopefully Thistle would never hear about his little project. Anyway he never found out about his other projects.
"BROTHER HOW IS THE DINNER?"
"It's perfect Pop's, as always"
His brother's voice, the reason to keep going, who will always remember him about the importance of the job he had. No more bittersweet thoughts, no more unfunded sadness, just happiness about himself and this world of his.
It's perfect Pop's, everything here is perfect if you're with me. Thistle barely talked about his Poppy, the few things he knew were sad and violent. Maybe that was the reason he clinged so much to this version of him. But Thistle had told him about the many more versions of him that existed in the multiverse, Papyrus, that was their name, and the same love linked them to their Sanses. Does his fox have a Papyrus too? Is he cruel and bad as Nightshade or sweet and good like Poppy? Maybe he would tell him with a little more time.
Washing the dishes was always a favorite part of eating for him. The feeling of the water once again invited him to sleep and this time he could as his brother was right there at his side.
He took the basket that he had left at the door's side and walked to the medicine cabinet. Look at the herb and place it in its rightful place. That was the monotone process of organization that he had to follow to not make his brother angry. Then the only thing left was the blue needle in the bottom of the basket, he took it and put it in his left pocket as it would be crucial to his later plans.
The basket had its place beside one of the drawers in the living room and the pie's plate had to rest in the kitchen. Everything in place he could now say goodbye to his brother and go upstairs to rest.
He leaned in the bed and looked at the blue needle for a long time. It was beautiful. He noted the little letters and numbers that moved inside of it. He didn't understand them. Then he returned it to his pocket and left the coat on a wooden chair.
The sleep was the same as always, the morning routine too. And soon he was on the way to Daffodil laboratory. It was early in the morning and he got to see a landscape that he rarely sees because of his late waking. Everything was covered in a white thick mist. The colors look saturated and nitide but we're soon covered by the white once and again.
The birds had just woken up and sang happily their melodies to the yet unseen sun. He imitated it with his own whistles. Tut-tut tut-tut, loud whispers of nature. He let the air scape his mouth slowly merging himself with the sounds of the forest. Wu-wu like he had feathers too he extended his arms proudly.
The grass cracked under his weight as he walked slowly towards his goal. He reached a cute little dirt path and followed it. The mist turned thin and translucent as he left Overgrown behind, soon he could feel the heat and humidity of the tropical Hotland. The plants piled up against each other and the birds kept singing.
He knew he was getting close to his destiny when he could see the ceiling of the cave again and the plants grew apart from each other. The black goopy ground left space for the yellow sand below his feet and there was so much less humidity and so much raw heat. Now he could see spiders and centipedes moving around the cactuses and hiding from the lizards that roamed around walking funny to not burn their feet.
Then he could see the stone made Daffodil's laboratory tower him like an imponent mountain. He reached the wooden door and hit it three times with his knuckles, enjoying the rhythmic sound of the bone meeting the pine wood. Toc-toc-toc. And soft steps could be heard behind the door, some fluttering of locks and chains and the chirp of the door opening.
"Lav! I-I didn't expect you! Come in, come in"
And he entered the dark room. And it was like being transported to a different universe. The room was illuminated by long wax candles and piles of books and paperwork made great columns of knowledge. On the walls a million glass bottles of yet unknown substances reflected the candle's lights.
"G-guess you have something to show me, since you-you came so-so early and without Poppy, a-and you usually invite Ro-rose"
"Sorry for intrude, but you are right, I need your help with something, something really important."
He took a red thread from his left pocket and cut it in half. Then he extended a half to her. She contemplated it for a long time, then against some candles light, and finally looked at him confused.
"I-I don't get it, where did you find this"
"I-I… from a friend of mine, one from the multiverse, one we need to keep an eye on. I want you to tell me every time he puts a foot on Nature Tale."
"Is he dangerous? Are-are you gonna be alright? Who is he-he?"
"Do you remember the dude that crashed at the Thistle's party? He is back, but I think I can help him, so this will be a secret, I don't want Thistle on my neck for letting him in."
"You-you always put yourself in so-so much trouble La-lav."
"That's my work Daffy, and I'm gonna be alright, what do you say? Can you help me?"
"Well this has to be a fully scented part of-of him, it will not work if-if it's his coat thread or something like that."
"I think is made of his own blood, but I don't know how yet. I was feeling it before and it surely it's a life induced object."
"T-then let me try it on the barrier"
So they walked past the piles of books and descended a snail's wooden stair to the big basement and he could feel a new kind of cold, more humid and raw than the one outside. The walls were made of compressed earth and rocks and in some parts tiny roots penetrated through them like little spears. Good was the luck of both of them as both were tiny and couldn't be bothered.
The light that came after the last step shone strongly in his eye lights, it was green and yellow, sparkling and dancing around. When his eyes adapted he could see the deep pond surrounded by vines and leaves that produced the light. That was the only piece that held together all Nature Tale. Growing from the pond a thick group of roots expanded outside it to then penetrate the dark soil on the shore, raising above them a big tree grew up and up through the ceiling and beyond. If he were to hug it - something he had done before - his arms couldn't even bend around it, that was the scale of that tree.
The room was big, a soil cave with a big hole in the ceiling to let the tree grow free to the sun that filtered through the holes in the barrier.
Daffodil walked towards some wooden stairs at one side of the pond; up there was the laboratory for the study and maintenance of the tree. A million bottles filled with substances derived from the tree and a whole library of books about healing and botany rested on the walls up there.
No one remembered the process of growing up the tree nor remembered the name of the monster that wrote most of those books - some of them though were written by Daffodil and others by an anonymous pen of Lavender - The tree was a big mystery.
Daffodil took an amber bottle and shook it a little. As Lavender walked up the wooden stairs she opened it and carefully put the red thread in the liquid, shaked it again till the amber turned into bright crimson.
She started a search for a book in the library with the bottle in her hands. Lavender, seeing her so busy, took the bottle from her hands and sat on a wooden chair in front of her desk. He looked at the mix analyzing its components with his two eyelights. Now that he thought better it looked more like determination than blood.
Daffodil made a sound of triumph and showed him an open book on a page with a pentagram on it.
"I-it took me a little while because I have not done this in a long time. B- but he-here it is. Shall w-we start?"
"Shure Daffy,let me grab the stones."
He got up from the chair and opened the drawers on a big wall. They were small and square, and wooden like everything there. He took five rocks from five drawers using his blue magic, too lazy to use the ladder on its side.
He saved them in his pockets. All of them were donations of Pepper; the stones and potions, Nature Tale merchant. A cat very possessive of her rocks, but the importance of the research moved her feline heart to give them for free to the royal laboratory.
Daff took some salts from a drawer and a little cotton doll and ready, both of them descended the steps on the wooden stairs.
They located a free space between the roots of the tree and cleaned the weeds that cover it. Daffodil put the open book on the ground. Lavender searched for a twig on the ground and gave it to her, she drew the pentagram on the dirt and placed the five rocks around the corner, one by one as Lav gave them to her. She took the bottle and wet the floor with its reddish substance then took the thread that falled to the ground and reached to her pocket for the cotton dummy and placed the string in a little pocket on its chest.
She rectified the runes on the edges of the pentagram and sung an ancient song for the tree. One by one the rocks shone, and then the runes, and then the lines on the pentagram, even the doll shone under her enchantment. The melody resounded in the walls of the cave, Daff had a beautiful voice when she wasn't afraid of what others would think. That was the power of the healers.
The tree shone too as an answer. First it was in the green and yellow of the water below, but in the last notes of the song a sudden change took place: the wood of the tree shone now with a strong red light, then the light shattered for a moment and light after in a bright blue light. Just like the eyes of his fox. And it glitched to, in a vibrant dance of blue and red.
When Daffodil landed the last note the light decreased till just the pond shone on their eyes. She took a deep breath, one two, one two, and looked at him.
"That's it. T-the tree will te-tell us if he comes back."
He smiled as a thank you. Both of them kneel on the dirt and caved a hole just where the pentagram was before. They just needed to bury the elements that took place in the ritual as a gift to the tree.
Their hands scoped earth out of the hole. Daffodil's hands were more useful though, as the dirt fell through the space between the bones in Lavender's hands. But he tried to help, because he was asking a lot of his friend.
When everything was over both of them sigh in unison, tired as they were because they were not athletic monsters. Daff got up and offered her hand to Lav, and he took it with pleasure. And when the two of them were up they both laughed at the dramatic nature of the moment.
"Thanks Daff"
"I'll call you if I see a-anything"
"Sure"
"Wanna g-grab a tea at Brooks?"
"Why not?"
And they walked up the steps on the wooden spiral stair. Feeling again the warmth of the candles in Daffodil living room was like being kissed by a mother on both checks. The yellow light too was comforting as all warm colors tend to be for living creatures. She took a coat from the wall, she took her hat from a chair, and he waited. She opened the door and he offered his elbow to her, walking now like an alive chain, small and chubby.
She had to keep the coat on her right hand as Hotland Made honor to its name with the warm weather but that big hat helped her be saved from the touch of the sun that filtered from the holes in the cave. They had no option but to walk slowly as both of their pairs of legs were so small but the synchronized beat of their steps were relaxing in some way. The desert made space for the jungle and the jungle for the forest and soon they were back in Overgrown.
She stopped for a moment and put the coat on, now she looked just as he saved her in his head fully clothed in brown. They didn't talk as they walked because they didn't need that sort of thing when they were together, it was a strong friendship of long years and shared secrets. At some point when he was still dating Brook, they would go to shared dates together with Rose all the time. Sometimes picnics, sometimes stargazing, anything the lizard could imaginate, always together through all things.
She was there too when Brook broke up with him, when he felt so boring and useless. She would meditate with him, she would hear him cry, she would make the tea that he used to make to calm him because he couldn't dare to put a foot in Brooks again. And she helped him to get on his feet again, to get back to Brooks, to talk with him, to forgive and smile again, to realize it wasn't his fault nor Brooks fault, that it was ok for love to fade away.
Finding the tea house wasn't difficult, even in the middle of the morning mist. The welcoming color of the naturalistic and candle lighted room said hi to them in a mix of orange and light distorted by fish tanks reflecting light silhouettes on the wooden floor. There were a couple people already enjoying breakfast on the tables, and a young Acorn looked with amazement a betta fish red and purple dancing around.
As always Lav chose the nearest seat to the bartender, and he and Daff seated with a little struggle on the high seats. They didn't have to wait long for Brooks to come with a big smile on his face. Even Stella, the goldfish that lived inside him swimmed to the face of her host to see them better.
"So long without seeing you, my friends. Do you want the usual?"
"Hi Brooks, we are taking the usual, thanks"
And the water monster started to work on a vegan hamburger and an all things salad. He looked at them for a moment and then sigh loudly as he chopped some vegetables, but kept quiet. Some moment later he filled the gap of their silence with a detailed explanation of his menu plans for summer, and they listened and gave him some recommendations.
"All ready folks, I need to serve a couple of tables there so I'm leaving. Hope you aren't getting into trouble again."
He put a bowl and a plate and two glasses of beautiful tea, one - Daffodils - green tea with roses and another one of golden colored chamomile tea. The breakfast was calm as they both talked about spells and healing potions. The tea was calming, the soft sweet taste told him that everything we're going to be alright.
"So… I'm saying goodbye now Daff, I have a meeting with someone else."
"Go- goodbye Lav, good luck!"
And his steps growed dull as he walked far and further away

Chapter Text

A pair of bone made hands moved quickly fluttering around the items on the floor. The fingers touched everything to make sure that all was perfect. Those fingers were trembling. On the floor a bucket of orange paint, two cups with hot water, and an old book open.
A sigh could be heard before the hands touched the paint and with an almost desperate movement throwed some paint to the ground.
“Please come here. Please come here Ink, I'm begging you.”
But nothing happened. You could see the tears appearing on the young skeleton's face. This could not be happening, this could not… But then a sudden little wave perturbed the surface of the paint, just that little movement was enough to stop him in his place. He grew closer to the source of movement, and for a little nothing more happened. Then a lot of bubbles appeared and he knew well enough to jump away from it.
Soon a figure pulled itself from the paint in all its not so impressive height.
“Hey-o, Why am I here? Oh! That 's paint! Someone called?”
“A-actually, I was the one calling Ink”
“...Who are you?”
“Chronicle, left side of the scarf, after Why does Error hate me? and before How to know if Dream is mad with me”
Ink looked just in that place at the same time Chronicle gave him instructions with changin wide open eyes. When he found out the name Chronicle he stopped for a while absorbing all the - for him - new information. Then he looked back at the young skeleton and gave him a big hug.
“So… you are kind of a brother. Aren't you? We should play some games and eat some food? Do you like paint? I love eating paint or ink, both of them are tasty actually. Here it says you remember everything, that's kind of a cool ability, Can you tell stories? Woah there are a lot of books here. Are those all of the underverse histories? Can I read one? They have drawings right? I cannot read books without drawings. I actually can't read books at all. So what do you say?”
Chronicle got a blank mind after all the info dump of his almost brother. Then he moved his hands to the two glasses of hot water on the ground.
“Do you want some paint tea? I can add some calligraphy ink if you want to, it's better to relax a little before we get to the principal plate.”
“The calligraphy ink sounds great actually, I haven't had it in a long time, well I can't actually remember the last time I've tried it so…”
Chronicle put his hands to work while Ink kept rambling about nothing in specific. With a little sugar spoon he put a bit of orange paint in both glasses and mixed it well till there was a cute light orange beverage. Then he got up to his desk and took the stone of calligraphy ink that was already wet, as he was working on one of his books just before calling him there. He puts a little ink in each glass but doesn't mix it this time leaving the ink strings to dance in each cup. The result is beautiful.
“So that's why I can never find those notes in my scarf, Isn't it strange? Oh tea! And what's that black thing? Seems like… Oh! It’s calligraphy ink? I haven't had that in ages! Thank you…….”
“Chronicle.”
“Yes, yes, Chronicle. What am I doing here?”
“I called you, I sort of need to discuss something with you… I didn't know who else to talk to, I know you are so busy and I promise it is important I just… don't know how to start”
“For me its a good idea to just spit out all at the same time, you know? like say just what comes to mind first and then work up from there, you should try, but usually you lost people in just a couple of sentences, because you cannot stop to see their faces and they get mad at you or just leave and you find out minutes after that you are talking alone, but I usually just keep talking and sometimes the voices talk back to me too, so inst that lonely actually. I was talking to someone…”
Chronicle let a little laugh out his mouth, Ink always amazed him with the ways he could move a conversation. He took the glass and sip a little of the liquid that everyone else would find kind of disgusting but they found it like the best of delicacies. That really felt like the most delicious thing he could have at that moment, relaxing him in a way nothing could help him.
"You see… Something has been happening with the records of the aus. I don't expect you to remember, so this is how it goes: You help with the creation of the universes from the Doddle sphere and can access and protect them from that place. Here I deal with the memory of them, here the timelines of any universe is written from start to finish. Those are the chronicles, and even if they can change they're a great help. But we also have the encyclopedias, books that have the information of everyone in them, even the out!codes. And some little other books like dictionaries or beastiries. The point is with some of my least known books, some of them…"
He made a pause and turned a page in the book in front of them. One page was ripped off and ink covered the other one just as if someone moved erratically a pen all over the paper.
"I was searching for them and it just looked like that. And I… I can't remember what was written on them…And it confused me because, well… remember everything is sort of my thing…if I can't remember, if there's no records of them it's like they never existed in the first place. And suddenly a lot of my books are looking like that"
After all the words left his mouth he stopped and took a long breath, he was on the verge of tears. But Ink just looked at him confused.
"It's not a big deal! It happens a lot in the creative process! You know? The other day I was helping someone with a character and they totally changed the design like eight times. It was a wild ride. And when artists get stressed they get a little aggressive, they throw stuff, they rip stuff, even make that kind of stuff like the one on that page. It's only natural, but then they come back and everything goes perfectly!"
Chronicle didn't seem amused, he looked defeated. In a way it seemed like his last hope was ripped away from him.
"And what happens if they never go back?"
It was a whisper, a little tired whisper. Then he looked up and with a pair of daring eyes pierced Ink's eyes.
"When are you planning to tell them?"
"Tell them what?"
"That the multiverse we know is coming to an end, that a lot of us are going to die, that a lot of our worlds are being destroyed and a lot of us are going to end alone in the Omega timeline without even memories of our loved ones. When Ink?! I know you have listened to their voices because I have heard them too, the way they feel ashamed of us, the way they wanna forget about us, because we were cringe children games. And there's nothing we can do as they delete our lives from theirs, as we lose monsters once and again. There's…"
Ink sipped his paint tea awkwardly, looking unusually quiet.
"They promised it. They told me they weren't leaving us alone"
"And you believe them?... How long is taking the Horror Tale story? How long since the last Reaper Tale part is out? Is easy for monsters like you, they'll not forget you, but we all are not so lucky, I'm gonna die, no one will remember me. Fall…Fall is dead, and no one but me remembers him. Do you even dimension how many aus are getting destroyed lately? I'm gonna die, and if I die there's no way we can restore… Oh I'm sorry I didn't want to…"
Ink was now trembling and repeating one and again "Please do not forget me, please not forget me…"
"Sorry, I got too carried away, I don't actually think they can even forget you, you are too important for them to forget. That's the magic that comes with being the guardian of the multiverse." A pause. " I'm just hurt because I lost someone dear to me. I'm scared is true, but I called you because I believe you and your friends can do something about it. Don't cry please, I didn't want to. Oh my god! I know you're scared of that, I can feel the fear you have, all the nightmares, all the pain. I'm sorry, I must have just asked for help. I'm so scared"
And soon we're two monsters crying. Sobbing for a shared fear that seemed to get real with every second passed. Chronicle put a hand on Ink's shoulder, the same hand that hadn't stopped trembling even before meeting Ink. And he hugged him, like one hugs something dear, like only twins can hug each other, like one being turned two can hug himself. And they cried, as they only could cry when Ink's vials were fully filled, like two children that had just lost a loved pet, like rivers flow, like it was the last time they could cry. But then they stopped, daring eyelights piercing each other, a decisive thought in both minds at the same time.
"I'm making copies, as many as I can, no matter how much they want to destroy us, they can reach every corner. But we still need a stronger comeback."
"I'm calling the boys"
And the library was left silenced again. But work needed to be done, and that pair of hands touched the calligraphy ink and the pen. The tools ready on the desk and his steps walked him to the books. His bone fingers touch with care the spine of the books. Then he founded the one he was searching for and took it in a fast movement. Back to the desk, and he was ready, opening the book in the first white page, pen in hand and he wrote:
Fast steps on the wet floor, the morning felt long as he walked through the grass. He would make a detour before finding this friend of his. It wasn't difficult to find Bluebell on the street of Nature Tale.
"Good morning Lav, how is everything going?"
"Fine I guess, how are you? can I have two specials for the go?"
"Of course, I'm perfectly well too"
And he watched the blue monster take that strange tool he used to shave the ice. He moved his hand energetically till he had a considerable amount of shaved ice. He placed it in two paper cups and put a bit of blackberry syrup on the ice. Then the magic of his nice creams took place, in strong fast movements he started placing a lot of fruits on top of the ice: passion fruit and soursop, pineapple and banana, and a lot of chopped lulo. Then a lot of condensed milk and cocoa powder on top. The dessert was ready.
Lavender made sure he paid before taking the two - now with paper lids - cups. And left the blue bunny with the big smile he always had when he was able to make a sale.
Then more steps till he was back in Overgrown and the morning birds sang for him the sound of every day. He stopped in what seemed like a random place in the middle of the path and moving with care the stigs and leaves in his way he started an unknown route.
It would have taken a lot of walking to let him reach his destination but the magic in his bones let him take a shortcut. And then he found him kneeling on the ground looking at one strange flower with amesemet.
"Hey!"
A big jump of a scared monster and two eyes looking back at him. This place was supposed to be a secret, but as for every Sans there were almost no secret places to Lavender.
"I have something you'll like, no need to be scared, Pyxis"
The wooden one got up and looked confused at him.
"You never bring things Lav, this must be really important if you're meddling with the Under verse."
"Not such big of a deal as everyone thinks, but yeah, I found some 'intruder' of sorts and want to keep an eye on him"
"Pass I'll set everything"
He moved the cloth that covered the entrance to his tent and Lav followed him. Inside there were a lot of pots and jars just as in Daffodil place, but those ones contained much more dangerous things than the ones of his reptile friend.
"Let's see what you have"
"First, some pay for your hard work."
And he extended to him the paper cup.
"Let's eat before it melts"
Pyxis opened the lid and his eyes shone but soon put it apart.
"Let's get straight to the point, We can eat while we work"
"Always the dramatic one!"
Lav put his cup on a wooden chair and reached out for the needle and the string in his pocket. He extended it to him and he took it with care and respect.
Then it was time for Pyxis to work. He put the string under a microscope, and the needle too. And then reached a jar with lots of blue strings and took one and compared it to the red one. A red vial was also talked from the shelfs and compared too to them.
Between every step though, Pyxis took bites of his nice cream, enjoying it for moments when he had to stop and close his eyes for his enjoyingment.
Lavender too was eating his nice cream, but more focused on it than his friend. He had made his search already on the items, but as a botanist he didn't know much about the materials that made the items as they were too changed. The only thing he could gather was that both of them came from organic matter, but everything else was a mystery to him.
But his friend seemed to have found something interesting in them. As he repeated once and again the tests he had done in them. Time flied by like the soft wings of a butterfly and nothing changed. Save the paper cups getting empty, there was no other proof of the time ticking. But if there's a Sans' attribute that in him was bigger than in others it was patience. So he slept calmly on a wooden chair. Comfy as he was, he almost didn't notice when Pyxis turned around and faced him a little concerned.
"It 's that bad?"
"Well… I don't know… They are organic matter, but you should know that already. As I could get the string is made out of blood and the needle out of bones, but again you should know that already. But here's the trick, those numbers you see there…" he pointed at the ones and zeros on the items. "I've only seen them in Error the Destructor of universes, a big menace for every au. And that red on that string cannot be natural, it seems more like determination, a lot of determination, and the monsters I'd seen with that are a lot more violent and - here comes the last finding - I found traces of pure negativity both on the string and on the needle and that stuff can only be a signal of Nightmare, one of the most cruel and savage Sans out there."
He took a moment, some sort of dramatic pause to show Lavender the weight of the moment.
"So we have two options. In the worst case scenario your intruder is working with Error or Nightmare, and is probably targeting this au for its total annihilation or even worst as a negativity battery for the prince of darkness. In that case he would target some very loved monsters and would kill them in front of everyone, and then he would torture everyone till all they can feel is sadness and anger."
Lavender held his breath and closed his hands. But Pyxis continued.
"I've thought that Nature Tale was some sort of neutral territory in the Dream's and Nightmare's fight as it serves as a battery both for positive and negative emotions. The human world above us is dark and hopeless, perfect for Nightmare to feast on, and here everything is handmade for the wellness of Dream. If I elaborate more I can even say that Nature Fell shields Nature Tale from the older brother's eyes, since it is one of those aus that gave him a lot to eat, and Nature Tale being so close can be forgotten. But if what I suspect is correct then we have a big problem in our hands."
Lavender analyzed everything he knew and then he dare to ask:
"And in the best case scenario?"
"He is hiding from both the Destructor of Worlds and the Prince of Darkness, making him an enemy of both of the most dangerous monsters of all of the multiverse and targeting Nature Tale along with him. And I remember you that we aren't particularly close with any of the big Sanses. The strongest monster we know is Sansta and I can assure you no amount of holiness can save him from Nightmare or Error."
For a moment there was silence. Lav held his breath and then talked.
"I think we have sort of the second choice scenario. His name is Fatal and seems to have the ability to clone monsters, I still don't know what he does with the copies, but I suspect murder. I think he was attacked by someone the other day, maybe one of the two you mentioned…"
"I'll propose to you to get rid of him immediately if I didn't know you better, Nature Tale monsters. But all I can tell you is that something big is coming to this place, something you'll not be ready to confront."
“Oh gosh!... I don't know what to do, I cannot get rid of him, he needs help, Pyxis, a lot of help. I've seen his face and I can assure you he has gone through things no one should go through. I-i already know what you are going to say, and I know I'm risking a lot in this shot, but I think he can help us too. You know? Like with all those abilities, I will talk to him, maybe we can sort this out. We need to be calm and take things as they come…”
“Have you ever heard of yourself? You are talking about fighting the two biggest threats in all the multiverse! It's not something to be calm about! You- you can even dimension the things you could get through. I know who you are, Lavender, but you cannot save everyone, and I think the world has shown you a lot of times that, but you are so stubborn. I don't want to lose you, not like that, I don't want to see this universe shattering as I have seen many… Why?! Lavender Why?! Why can you not be like any other protector I´ve seen? Why make it harder? Don't you think about your brother?”
Lavender looked at him fondly knowing well that that monster held him dear in his heart, and he too held him as well in a fond place. But it was not easy to change the ancient ways that the Nature Tale people had. In this world everyone deserves an opportunity, no matter the backstory, no matter the badgage, and he as one of the protectors of that world must hold that law above everything else.
“I think about all of that, and you know I'm not taking the matter lightly. When have I or Rose or the guardian dogs, let something hurt this world?” He smiled, like saying I have a plan. But Pyxis would not feel safe with that answer. “I'll kept you knowing, I promise it, now let's talk about other thinks, Im seeing new things in your collection”
For a moment Pyxis hesitated but then he chuckled and shaked his head, soon the air was filled with the sound of the calm voice of the wooden skeleton sharing his new findings with an old friend. And like all old friendships this one had an abyss between the world of the two monsters but a little hanging bridge kept the two connected like those old villages in the deep forest.
In the evening he left the tent with a little flower crown of forget me nots, a present Pyxis didn't tell him who was from, but something in his chest made him feel like he was home again, a happiness so dear and deep he could barely contain it in his ribcage.

Chapter Text

Butterflies and fireflies, moonshine and the river flowing. The night was calm. Fear and secrets, expectations and hopes. The souls racing in wait for something to happen.
"Hi Fatal, you came early"
The skeleton jumped; being surprised is not a good look for an ambush predator. But there was Lavender, hands in his pockets, a smile on his face. The flower's scent hit him when the wind changed its course. He got closer and closer, and with every step Fatal grew fearful and scared. Nonetheless Lavender sat beside him with that stupid happy face.
Fatal hid behind his own shoulders, trying not to look at him, but his eyes glowed in the dark and those bright purple lights called him with insistence. Lavender laughed, as if he knew better than Fatal, as if he knew more than everyone else and somehow he found the scared face of Fatal.
So he faced him. He put his mismatched eyes in front of the beautiful purple eyelights. Trying to say "What? There's something funny?" and scare him. But Lavender only laughed harder.
"You know, for a dangerous monster like you, you surely fear a lot of things"
Lavender rested against the tree with every bone in a soft pause. And he looked like someone who has nothing to fear in this world. He looked at him with half opened eyes and the head above him. And he was beautiful, he didn't even look plausible.
He probably was staring, too close, too focused to notice it. A long pause, a long moment looking at those simple eyes, till he found the little moss that covered some of the irregularities in his bone. Lavender face was some kind of ancient bone mask. It wasn't soft, and that surprised Fatal a little. I was a face wounded by the passing of time. He had this ability to stand still like a rock, without expectations, without desires, the ability to simply be in the moment. And that stillness made someone lose their guard so easily.
He knew it well when the moths kept getting closer and closer, when the ants made paths through his face and the flies put their feet on his forehead. He knew well because he was in the same trance. A call sounded close by, and he recognized the translucent small lizard that found his way into Lavender's shoulder. Below was the grass, the soft green that the night didn't want him to see. Above were the tree stigs, like black silhouettes against the sparkly rock. And around them was the forest, the same forest that always surrounded them. But that forest seemed so different tonight, with the sounds of bats and night birds flying, with the buzzin of the insects and the light of some fireflies, was the forest ever this loud?
A cricket jumped directly to his head and he tried to not jump back at the sudden company. Lavender put a hand on his head and carefully petted that cricket, and he just let himself be pet as if the size of Lavender's hand were not scary to him. He then put one hand on both sides of his face and looked at him directly and started to sing.
"It tangles and tangles, like on the wall the ivy… "
He could see green light hitting his eyelights from both sides. Lavender was creating something. At first it was a mere tickle on his forehead, but soon the movement of roots and stems crossed his head.
"And it sprouts and sprouts like the moss on the rock…"
His voice was not as mesmerizing as the part of him that sees him like an elf or a ninf expected. It was instead a simple voice, the voice that normal people should have, even if he had never heard anyone sing like that before. It was somehow old and wise, yes that was the voice long lost poets use to sing their melodies.
"Like the moss on the rock oh! Yes yes yes!"
And he looked proudly at his work. Fresh new smell running fast to Fatal, but not so new, he knew that smell. Even without looking he knew the beautiful orange flowers that were now on his head. His favorites, his own flowers.
"These are Chrysanthemums, they mean welcoming, Do you like them?"
The live crown breathed with himself, they were alive on his head. He felt like a fresh crown prince, powerful and glorious. So he nodded, not sure if he should trust him with his feelings, but nonetheless happy for the present.
"This time I put pink and white ones, you must like some variety"
Fatal closed his eyes and rested against the tree again, somehow defeated by Lavender kindness. It felt good, being there with an alive crown in his head, hearing someone talk slowly, even if he didn't understand the words, even if he got sleepy.
"I was reading the other day in Daff place about the guardian monsters of the forest. Most humans thought that they were humans before. Their story always go like this: a human, more than often a woman, gets murdered by a man, commonly as an act of revenge for infidelity. The soul of that person then goes to the forest, and the forest creatures make nests in her hair, and the snakes wrap against her arms. If she dies in the water she turns into an aquatic being. No matter what that kind of monster, they atrac the bad humans that are harming the nature with a incredible beauty, and then murder them in the deep forest or the bottom of a lake"
Fatal didn't care about the story but the way Lavender told it was magical to him. Word by word Lavender constructed slowly a castle of safe words. Bit by bit, like a storyteller, and the rhythmic beat of his accented words hit him like a drum on a folkloric song.
"For me those are beautiful tales. It's about turning one's defeat into strength, about making a personal tale into a universal red of sorts. Is curious, no woman in those stories ever cares about nature before dying. But there's the thing, no matter who you are you will always be absorbed by nature when you die. Nature is in fact the only one that will receive you with all your defects and mistakes…"
Lavender let out a big yawn. And he looked at Fatal, and smiled. It always seemed like he was trying to teach something, he had that probably for being a big bro, probably for sitting in Muffets and drinking tea with the children and talking about the past. He had the wood of a father but no children of his own.
"I like seeing you, actually it's better for me to know you are listening, not talking alone to the wind, you know?"
Fatal let the words pass through him. He didn't care, he wasn't even listening. He wasn't a child for Lavender to scold. But he was comfy and the scent of flowers didn't seem wrong on a beautiful night like that. So he opened the blue eye slowly, picking to see the expression on his face. But his face remained the same, eyes half opened, deep black and purple lights.
The silence was as comfy as the talk, it was impossible to feel threatened in Lavender's presence. He didn't even close his eyes as if he didn't care how much Fatal was staring at him that night. The cricket walked towards his new flower crown and put his long legs on one leaf and continued to sing. He was getting used to the sound, repetitive and constant that the little insect gifted to him. And Lavender's lizard also kept singing, making the music a duet with little toads as the background corus.
The wings moved around him and when he felt one a little too close he faced a bat in a curious dance: he flew around a palm tree, and every odd second he hung himself from one leaf and took a little bite of one of the round fruits of the palm. It was cute… when was the last time he had allowed himself to see something cute.
"Bats usually are really misunderstood, even more the fruit bats. Some people call them rats with wings, and that's an insult both to rats and to bats at even parts. Actually you can learn a lot about the flora of one ecosystem only with the residues of fruit bats. I work a lot with it actually, I can take you some day to see the caves where they live, that it's if you don't mind the darkness."
Fatal shurng at the implication, he didn't know how to think about visiting places with Lavender, even more something so close as a cave exploration. But the idea of a close space with those little creatures seemed like a perfect plan to him.
"They sleep in groups to share heat, like penguins or oters. They hug each other and have strong ties to one another. They must know the meaning of family pretty well. I like to study them just to remember it when I feel uneasy"
Lavender reached for his pockets and took two little round and orange fruits. He gave one to Fatal and held his own hanging it down his fingers. Looked at him waiting for him to do the same and then he tell him to wait. Soon enough the bat started dancing around them as well as the palm tree, hanging for seconds of the coats of both monsters. Fatal looked enchanted by it.
"Pretty neat, isn't it?"
But the bat soon got tired of their fruits and flew away towards other trees. Fatal felt betrayed. Lavender laughed and got up slowly, and he just could see him hypnotized as he extended a hand in the air and snapped his fingers. After some minutes a shadow darkened the sparkly cave roof. The shadow then reached Lavender's hand and hung up from it; it was an enormous bat, his head just like the one of a dog got petted by Lavender's finger bones and like one received with joy the care.
He then made a gesture to him to get up too and Fatal felt compelled to follow him. The free hand back to his pockets reaching for more little fruits to give to the dog-bat. Some of them ended in Fatal hands as an invitation to feed him too. And so he passed a long time helding the fruit near the animal's head and watching him take bites from it enthusiastically.
"Ok boy, time to go!"
And with two little pats the bat flew away.
"He is still just a baby, they can grow as tall as any of us, but he is the one that comes when I call so if I wanted to show you one it had to be him. Oh! Sure! His name! He is Pomme, because he loves apples."
Fatal was still looking towards the direction the bat had flown, thankful and somehow sad to see him go. But before he could sort his feelings he felt a tender touch in his left hand. A soft push and he faced the skeleton holding his hand, and he felt warm inside as he looked at those beautiful purple eyelights. He grabbed his other hand and held them in front of both of them.
"I wanna try something with you"
The voice a sweet whisper, the look piercing his bare soul.
"It's curious. Not everyone in Nature Tale can make flowers grow with their magic. It usually makes one very sad, so we had things like this to help them feel better."
He extended his fingers and made Fatal extend his own too leaving a bone to bone connection, then he moved his hands a little bit to the left and intertwined their fingers. Fatal face was bright red and his glitches moved randomly all over his body.
"I need you to breathe with me. Five seconds in, five seconds out. Like this"
He extended his rib cage at full capacity and then let the air out in one exhalation.
"Now you: five seconds in, one, two, three, four, five. Now five seconds out, one, two, three, four, five."
It was harder than what he had expected. Breathing so deeply, holding one's breath because you feel like you cannot breathe more and then letting out a long sigh when all you wanna do is gasp for air. His wounded ribs ached with the movement and felt like they will break in half.
"It's fine to not get it on the first try. But it is important that you learn it. It helps a lot when you're panicking, it helps a lot to concentrate. Let's do it again…"
The seconds piled on each other as Fatal tried to breathe many times, till there were minutes passing through them. With every try he grew confident in his own inexistent lungs. In the end it wasn't necessary for Lavender to count the seconds out loud as both breathed at the same time as one organic being turned on two.
"Perfect, now we can make step two. I need you to focus on the feeling of the air flowing in your nostrils. I need you to focus on them only and my voice. Now I want you to visualize a pot in your heart. I want you to feel it, to feel its weight and its shape. It is filled with emotions, they are heavy, they are moving and you cannot discern one from another. We need to free your pot from that weight. Now when the air enters your skull you will hold the pot tightly. Do you have it? Perfect, now when you let the air out you will pour the contents of the pot out. They fall through your chest and through your arms they fall at your feet. Can you see its color? Can you feel its texture? Now you are fully free of those emotions and you have space for something else. The magic in your soul starts to spin, just like when you are about to cast an attack, but it feels different, it's warm and cozy and it flows slowly towards the outside. Now open your eyes."
In the space between the two of them a big flower had appeared, a big yellow sunflower that looked directly at him.
"In some way you made this one. You gave me instructions with your magic and I only followed your lead."
Fatal touched with the tips of his fingers the sunny petals of the flower. It was real, he didn't know what it meant but it was as real as one could get. He then realized that his hands remained attached to Lavender's, and all the nervousness returned. So he pulled his hands out of the bond even when it felt sad to do so.
"Ha-ha you should know that already but just to make sure… I just want to remain you that magic made flowers don't last long, but the seeds that they produce can last as long as a normal plant. So, what I'm trying to say is that maybe you could grow your own garden now that you have the seeds…"
Fatal nodded but he didn't pay attention to the idea, only focused on the warm feeling on his hands. Lavender kneeled and cut the thick stem of the flower and gave it to him proudly. He realized with the gesture how late in the night it was. Like Cinderella, he took the flower and ran fast to the portal as he had someone waiting for him.

Chapter Text

The air was fresh even down back at the save screen. The noisy silence that ruled in Nature tale was replaced by the unending eco that the not-so-welcoming blue flowers produce for him.
"BROTHER ARE THOSE MORE FLOWERS? THEY ARE SO BEAUTIFUL! CAN I KNOW THE MONSTER WHO GIVE THEM TO YOU? I PROMISE NOT TO TELL ANYONE!"
He didn't say anything, walking towards nothing in particular. He was happier than he would admit. The smell on his head made him dizzy. The flower in his hand made him proud. He didn't make it himself, he knew that, but it somehow felt intertwined with it.
"OH! BROTHER, SOMEONE CAME WHEN YOU WERE OUT"
He stopped alarmed. No, it could not be true. He almost forgot about him. What should he do about it?
"HE WAS BLACK AND GOOEY, AND WASN'T FRIENDLY. IS HE YOUR FRIEND? HE LEFT A PRESENT FOR YOU! LOOK IT'S EVEN WRAPPED!"
He walked slowly towards Patch. It wasn't good news. It was the worst news actually. He could have harmed Patch. Why did he care? But it could have harmed him, and that thought made him feel bad deep inside.
Patch showed proudly a deep blue box with a red ribbon. It wasn't big, it fit perfectly in Patch's hand. But his hands were so big… almost everything could fit in Patch's hands. He took the box and shook it near his ear (or where an ear should be, he is a skeleton after all). The thing inside it wasn't heavy but had some weight. Then he smelled it, that wasn't good, the box smelled like blood.
On the box, there was a little white note: "Hope you have fun with the flower boy." No, no, no, no, no. He knew about Lavender, he knew about Patch. This was a threat.
He opened the box. The image didn't affect him. He had seen blood before, he had made things bleed. But it didn't make him happy, it made him angry, so, so angry. Inside the box was a dead dove, inside the box the open chest of a little dove and all the blood that came with it. Around the dove lavender flowers. The smell of the rotting flesh fights with the smell of the flowers. He knew both of them so well it irritated him.
The dove rested its face on a pillow of flowers. The flowers hugged its beautiful uneven wings with some kind of softness. He thought that Lavender was nothing but a little dove, a soft kind dove that didn't harm anyone but was fated to be eaten by wild predators. He too was a predator, he had caught him in his web and destroyed his body. But it wasn't the real one but a copy, an almost identical copy but nonetheless a copy. Now that idiot black goofy skeleton was trying to harm the real one.
What should he do? What was the right answer? Did he care if both Patch and Lavender died? No, he did not. He was alone and till there were no Papyrus beside him he wouldn't stop. He did not care. Then… Why did his chest feel so tight at the moment? Why did he wanted to run before that stupid skeleton and beat him to death?
Silence, there was silence between the two monsters seeing the dead dove. Patch too had seen blood before but he always squinted and shivered when he saw it, so it was natural that the view produced that kind of reaction. But it was different seeing Fatal in that state, he was the beast ready to catch any falling prey.
Fatal left the box in the ground and looked for his little garden under the echo flowers. Then he placed the flower crown alongside the other chrysanthemum. He searched for a new place too, a place ready for the yellow sunflower he would be placing in. He reaped the sunflower into little pieces and left the goop in the ground.
He needed to tend first to his garden. The only thing he had now that he didn't need to be conflicted about. Then, back to the box. He wondered why doves felt so lightweight, why they felt warm even being objectively cold, why they were so soft and felt like breaking with just a look. Lavender was too like that dead dove. His hands were as soft (even being a bone-made hand) his hands were as warm, will he end up like that? like a quiet being with the chest wide open? Fatal wouldn’t let that happen. Somehow he knew that he could not let that happen. It wasn’t Papyrus, It wasn’t. But he didn’t want to lose the nights at Nature Tale. He wouldn’t let them take Patch. It wasn´t Papyrus. But it was HIS mistake. Not anyone else's mistake. They were his, and he knew he was being greedy but he couldn’t help. He felt possessive.
He knew what he should do: took the dove and prepared a place in between the echo flowers. It was just perfect for him to have something dead to work in. He reached for the needle in his pocket. He had to replace it when he left his first one in Lavender's hands. It was a long process to create a new needle, and he didn't want to go through it again. He prepared the red string with his hands on his mouth. He attached the string to one wing of the dove. Then everything moved out as always when he was working. Small pieces of code, numbers, and letters that only he could understand.
He opened the bird's chest, he pulled apart their little wings. It didn't take long for him to find something familiar in its code: it was obvious that a wild animal (aren't doves domestic?) would have some nature-related code, as the use of a dove in any code is a representation of nature, but this code was absolutely wild in that respect, there were lines and lines of nature related code. Even more: the code was soft green and he knew only one code (he didn't know as many as he liked to think) that was both soft green and nature-related: the Nature tale code.
So there they were, the pieces of proof in front of them the mister y dismembered and naked. There was nothing to search about, it was clear and bare: If you don't cooperate I will kill Lavender and Patch.
Patch reached for his chest, he understood, he was a burden on his brother's shoulders, he was nothing but dead weight. Would his brother fight for him? Unprovable. He would die. He looked for his brother, he was mad, he could see that he was so, so mad. Patch trembled, his brother could kill him there to prove he had nothing to lose, and his brother was mad, would he regret it if he killed him? Again, hardly probable. But his brother didn’t look at him, he looked far away to the empty void in front of him.
Far away Lavender looked too, to the deep forest, feeling something wrong had happened. It was just a thought, just a little idea in his head, but he had learned to listen to these little ideas because, as the guardian of Nature Tale, he was connected to the earth and the earth talked in her own way. Mother, the great mother of every monster. Some monsters came from deep in the earth, some from deep in water, some from the beat of the wind, some from the fires set by lightning in wild forest, but all of them came from her. Sublime, that was her name. Humans gave it to her. Poets, painters, musicians, the kind of people that set their tune with her. She is sublime because she is powerful, humans taught that they had defeated her, that they had killed her, but the curse of the earth is the rage that she feels towards humans because they mistreated her children. Yes, Lavender only lives because his mother let him live because she forgave them.
“What’s up, man? Hiding is a little blunt, isn't it?”
“King Apen was right choosing you, no one can hide from you.”
“Pyxis”
“Lav”
“How bad is it?”
“The worst it can be”
Lavender got up from the grass and walked towards his friend. Pyxis waited and when he was close enough took his hand and teleported. The sky shone above them, the world smelled like salt and there was a kind breeze. Pyxis guided Lavender to a hidden shore, took one rune from his pocket, threw it to the ground, and infused it with magic. A big tree house emerged from the sand like a tower. They entered.
“Sorry for the tent last time, I was just passing by at the moment”
“No problem, bro”
“I have been watching over Nature Tale since our last time and I found something”
“You didn't have to, thanks”
"Lav, this is serious. Like big serious. I saw one of Nightmare's acolytes."
"Nightmare…"
" THE Nightmare, you are on his radar, just like I told you, you are now fighting something worse than death... You look too calm. What's in your mind?"
"It is better to accept fate. To think that we will be safe forever is just a little silly. I prefer to think about the present. The present in wich I have to think of a way out. So.. what do you have for me?"
"Don't even think about it!"
" About what?"
"I'm not fitting him"
"Who says that we will have to fight?"
"You are planning something"
"Yes I am"
"What?"
"He has acolytes?"
"I just told you"
"Then we have to make him fight alone"
"How so?"
"We Naturetalians know how to make someone not want to fight. It happened with Chara, it happened with Buttercup and it happened with Thistle. We need them to have something, to hold on to something. Well have to save them from the darkness"
"Could you have more direct ways to fight for once?"
"I hate to throw punches"

Chapter Text

“So this is what it feels” The soul beated fast, “I’m back at work, but it doesn’t feels bad, How weird” Not weird at all, actually, this is what it happens when you are stoked inside a wall, trying to contain into your hands the strength of a river flowing to keep everyone safe. He had always known how it is, how it always is: You cannot solve the problem if you don’t get to the root. The problem never is the little things, the parts that go wrong, the rotten apples. No, it’s always the rotten core of the tree, it's the nest of the ants and the termites, the bees and the wasps. He knew well, but usually he wouldn’t care, not a little. Because it's how things are, and we are so small against the world.
Try it at home, while I teach you the ways: Close your eyes and count to ten, breath slowly, and trace your own body from the toes to the tip of the head. Don’t you start to see it? Then focus only on the air that passes through your nostrils, in and out, alive, almost divine, Do you remember how it goes? He did that all the time, let’s see, a little inside there's your soul, more of you than just your body, more than the addition of features. You have made the subtraction method of finding yourself. Your soul is now naked in the middle of an endless void, a little particle that shines but cannot become brighter as a sun (even the stars cannot light up the darkness). The universe is too big and you are so small.
He usually just focused on that: “Hey Lav, you cannot save everyone” But deep inside a part of him had always wanted to go towards the core of the problem, to solve it up from one moment and forever.
He didn’t know anything about the multiverse, not the hierarchy nor the monsters that live between the invisible walls in every world. Pyxis told him everything, the long lost fight between the brothers, the corruption of the beautiful universes. That man, that was one of those he pitied the most. Little beings incapable of loving with all the heart. Hurt and hopeless to the point that anything had meaning anymore. He knew he couldn't save him, but he could help. Finally he felt like he was able to help.
There was no adrenaline in his blood, there was never. But a sense of justice, a calm sense of justice. You could have said that him was just acquiring some new hobby, something to do with his free time. And that's good because as someone enters a war they cannot become impatient or desperate. Lucky Lavender was incapable of both things. He dislikes the wars, all the deaths and the sorrow, but he was being dragged into one, and if there's something worse than to be dragged to a war you want nothing to do about, surely is to stand in the sides of a war without doing nothing.
He was sick of doing nothing, of being useless, of knowing there was something more, someone hurting, someone dying, and he was here, in his perfect ivy made treehouse.
It contains something inside. He was empathetic, very empathetic, but he wasn’t sympathetic (or an empath as some people could say). There was something that always escaped his mind. It’s like… imagine being able to read people's minds, to understand what everyone is feeling, where they come from, where they are going, but when it comes to feeling, hardly feeling the thing itself. He never talked to anyone but he knew he wasn’t a psychopath, just someone who had learned to not fall in the trap of empathy. He was a Sans after all; How not to be rational?
Now it was time, let it be, some call to action. There are some things you hate, but it doesn't matter if you do nothing about it. That's why he felt some kind of happy, not happy-happy, more like sad-happy, hopeful-happy.
He knew how mistakes rip the skin when you are fighting but he also knew how people tend to forget that the kindest lamb fights in the slaughterhouse. He was in there now. It's about time, just time. No one can escape war forever, those who came without scars from it are the ones who did the worst, the devil's. Being a devil is not only about hurting people, it's about giving the weapons to the ones who do it, but more importantly, it's not stepping in to save the weak. Nature tale had been a devil in the Underverse war. And now was the time to amend that. He had to talk to the queen.
—-
“And I tell you I'm not a babysitter!!”
“C'mon! It's just for a night! No Verse told me you are good with kids!”
“And I'm not! I hate them!”
“You had a child living in your house for months!!”
“Friday has nothing to do with this”
“Please man! I'm running out of options”
“Why does no one ask Lav…. Wait a minute… You need a monster to look after some brats that can kill you with a touch, right?”
“When you put it that way it sounds suicidal… but yeah, that summarize it”
“What do you think about someone that can calm them just with his presence?”
“Is it trustworthy?”
“A goody two shoes from top to bottom”
“Then… If I could get in contact with him…”
“There's no way: he doesn't have a cellphone, but it happens to be walking just in front of me…”
“Can I talk to him?”
“Hey Lav! Here is someone who needs to talk to you!”
To me??! That's his interdimensional cellphone?!?!
“Hello, Lavender here”
“HELLO!!! I'm Swap Sans, but everyone calls me Blueberry! I'm an honorary member of the Star Sans! Nice to meet you!”
The Star Sans??? The ones that are fighting that man?!? What a lucky day!
“Happy to hear you. What can I help you with?”
“You see… I'm in a predicament. My friend's friend needs someone to look after his children. But my friend is very protective of his friend and his friend's children so I cannot just hire anyone, and, not to be a killjoy but they are kind of dangerous, like… some of them… well they can kill you if you touch them with your bare hands. BUT if you use protection you will be ok. And… their parents are a vengeful crazy maniac (right now is a lovely monster but if you mess up with his family he’ll kill you) and Death itself. They have problems because well, Reaper (death itself) now is working directly with the multiverse, you now making sure souls are ready to be reborn or something too wild for me to understand. But, you know… with the war and everything the only Universe who pays tribute to him as a god (Didn't I tell you? He is a GOD) is Under Novela. It's a blessing that Error has something for that place and protects it with his life, otherwise they have to rely only on Geno's (the maniac) income. And that's the thing : Geno is working full time in cafeterias, hotels, gas stations, everything everywhere, just to pay the bills. Till now they were relaying in Geno's brother: Eight Nines Sans to care about the children but he has to work too. You know? He take some vacations to care about them but now has to come back to work too, and the pay that Geno and Reaper can give to him is really not the big thing, and because he is making a family for himself. And there´s Life but she is helping us nowadays in the reconstruction of the multiverse so she is out of reach too. I can say the pay is all that good because, well… the children are sick and weak and they need a lot of medicine, BUT its not bad at all. I just need really really to you to say yes….”
“You know, here in Nature Tale we don’t use money anymore… so I don’t need it. Sorry I don’t have use for it”
“But BUT, We can find anything We can-”
“I didn’t say that I won't work for you. But I have one condition”
“Seriously!! Yeah!! sure. What do you need?”
“A meeting with your friends, if I help you, will you grant me that wish”
“....Everyone's a little busy but I think we can make it work. Deal then?”
“Sure, what day is it about?”
“Tomorrow”
“Ha-ha short notice, fine then!”
The phone was left aside in Thistle’s hand.
“What are you looking for with the Star Sanses? I thought you didn’t know a thing about them?”
“It’s nothing big, just didn’t want to be stuck with some coins of hard metal”
“You’re acting weird”
“Ha-ha”
He turned in his hells and started walking into the Tundra forest, down to the palace for the Queen and King to decide if it was worth the fight he was chosen. The birds danced in the middle of the air and a couple of parrots screamed just above him. “I love this place” he thought to himself.
King Aspen opened himself the door and guided the now a little fearful Lavender to a living room.
“I guess it not good news if you are shaking that badly”
He had not noticed it: his hands were shaking like jelly. Guess he was afraid after all. One part of himself wanted to run far away and not to face his bosses. He had broken the laws of Nature Tale and let a dangerous stranger enter his precious paradise and now they were in the middle of a war. He’ll get scolded.
“I want to talk to the queen too if it's possible”
“Of course, drink a little tea while I call her”
He looked at the carpet decorated wall. It was an intricate pattern of leaves and petals in a beautiful green and pink. Who did that carpet? Had they died in the war between monsters and humans? Had they died in Nature Tale when some of the garbage that covered the world had leaked into the Underground? So many people had died before, and there he was, making a new war to attend to. But it was inevitable, he said to himself, the war never let someone be neutral, but one can choose to not to use violence…
“You are pale! Oh! Lav! What on earth happened!”
“You know? I think I’ve made a mistake…”
“How bad is it?”
“There’s a war in the multiverse, one that usually it's just known by Sanses. Its a little complicated but someone wants to destroy all universes, someone else wants to subject to torture the people in them, and other Sanses (and a Frisk) wan’t to protect them… I’ll be brief: We are now targeted by the one that wants to destroy our spirits.``
“That… that”
“I have concreted a meeting with the ones protecting the universes. They are called the Star Sanses, and I think I can make a deal with them…”
“Then you are asking us to be ready… Aren’t you?”
“My friend Pyxis gave me a sample of that man so we can know when he comes. For now we cannot play defensive or offensive right away. We must act as if we don't suspect anything. What I am asking is for you to accept an idea of mine…”
“We are listening”
“A love war, I’m planing of leaving that man alone, but I’ve to play with his acolytes feelings”
“Other measures?”
“Wait to the Star Sanses to save us”
“My queen… I think he has a point. Waiting has never be of use to us”
“As Aspen says, but we will have to prepare. Ask Pyxis to meet me when he can, I’m not sitting here letting you do all the work. Don’t worry Lavender, we will be subtle”
“Thanks Maple Queen, Aspen King”
He stayed a little late talking about tea and gardening, a theme of almost all talks in Nature Tale, but more interesting with the royal couple as they were wise. Even the prince came to see him. Obviously the teenager didn’t know Lavender’s role as protector of the Underground.
Outside of his house, however, a skeleton waited with shaking hands. Fatal’s hand felt cold since touching the poor, poor dove. But here he was ready to say farewell to someone. Why did he care so much? Why didn't he want to leave that place? Why did he feel it was a necessity to go far away from Lavender? That skeleton had stolen a part of him, had engraved himself in his soul, tainted it with a new pink shade of light. So this was the moment to say goodbye, he knew. No matter how bad it felt.
“You are cold, aren’t you? Come inside, it’s freezing outside.”
He didn't know how to say no. Before he noticed it he was trapped inside a beautiful live wood made tree house. The color was warm and the scent of spices and herbs hit his nostrils. It was cosy.
“Here we don’t have winter, but we have some weather changes throughout the year. Now we are entering the rainy season. So it’s no good to be outside.”
Soon a cup with warm tea was between his hands, a couple of coconut cookies on a plate and a weighted blanket on his shoulders. It was warm: the place, the scent… Lavender.
“IiIiiiiI WoNt COME bAck…”
“You will”
“Iiii WWwill noT BotheR YoU”
“You don’t bother me”
“YOU dONt GeTT IT”
“Why?”
“ThEY’lL HURt YoU”
“And you think no one's gonna hurt me if you left me alone?”
“IIiii… YOU…”
“It’s too late now… So why don't you try to protect us with your own strength?”
“Iii’M SOrry”
“You don’t have to”
Lavender put his hands in the air and invoked green magic: a bouquet of pink carnations was born on them and he offered them to his guest.
“We are together in this now. I trust in you. You don’t have to tell me your secrets, but if you need to: I’m here.”
“WHy?!?!?”
“Because you are not that bad, actually”
“YOU Don’T KNow ME!!”
“You know you. Maybe it’s true, maybe you are the bad guy. But you don’t want to hurt us. Don’t you? You have some sort of morals, we just need to refine them. Ha-ha”
A resolution hit him from an unknown place in his soul, the determination of having all what he wanted: Papyrus, Patch and Lavender, all of them, his forever.

Chapter Text

There is something disturbing in the word WORK, or at least, it seemed to Fatal when he was in that alley. Work, more work to do. Working for somebody isn't the same as working for yourself. The time isn't yours anymore, you are not yours anymore. He hated working. He had made a world when he did what he deemed important and Patch followed close by. Now Nightmare did all the calls and he felt uneasy.
Stalking is not an ability one is proud of. But it was his best ability, his weapon of choice, his work tool. No one had ever noticed him, except Lavender, who for whatever reason always felt him approaching. But that day he didn't have to stalk him but someone else.
The skeleton's name was Sans (as always) but they called him Lust. Nightmare described him as an ill-feeling battery. But he wanted more, as he knew that that boy was helpless and eager to self-destruction he wanted to have a battery that didn't know of hope or happiness. He wanted him to destroy him.
At this very moment, Lust talked happily with his Papyrus: Fatal felt envy in his heart. But even then there was no use in that code for the reconstrucción of his brother. This was work.
What was the pay? The lives of Lavender and Patch. Nothing more, nothing less. He was an idiot for letting himself be part of such a stupid game of an even stupider boss. But there he was, waiting.
What this job brought to him and his brother was a fate worse than the loneliness of the save screen, something worse than the destruction of his world, or so it looked like. Hurt for sorrow's sake, pain to make someone strong even stronger. It made no sense.
It’s hard to notice it when he was running out there in between the severed parts of monsters or when he tried to destroy his own timeline, but he had a moral code. All his life was for Papyrus, all the air he breathed and woke up every morning for his sake. To find him he was capable of the worst things, but only for him. Is it contradictory? Of course! He wasn’t a good monster, he never pretended to be. But he understood the power of love. Most Sans love Papyrus, he understood that. The worst part of his journey was to take them from their Papyrus’. He had a conscience, like everyone, just one a little more twisted. He WAS twisted. But it worked for him.
The only reason he had to take the job was the knowledge of his puppets as copies, fakes, and dummies without real souls. He hadn’t made anyone suffer that wasn’t an impostor. So he expected Nightmare to find soon enough that he couldn’t harvest emotions from those carcasses. Then he would be free from that maniac and his conqueror delusion.
His hands were around Lust's neck, the start of the coping process at the rhythm of that soul beating. Release him, and come back to the dark hole he came from. Paste process, Patch ready on one side to hold him. Welcome hell! He was laughing even If he wasn't in the mood for jokes. Maybe the theatrics were for himself, to amend the guilt and the shame of being a beast.
But when he looked at him his eyes were purple. The expression of rage and the scared mouth twisting made him stop right there: Lavender looked at him and screamed words he could not understand. He was thinner, he had to remind himself, but he had the same old tired lavender eyes. How could he do this? Why did the white fur turn into beautiful flowers? Why did the cheap perfume smell like potpourri fragrance?

“Ii-II I-ah- AH- I’M SooorrYYy” He whispered.

But this is how work is supposed to be. Nothing to you but for others. For the ones in high chairs in the sky. It had always been like that, Toriel in her sweet home in the ruins, Asgore in his beautiful palace, and Undyne patrolling with the dogs. They were strong but if it came to it they would let their asses there till something reached them. Wasn’t he like that too? Because he said so, if he had done something would he have been able to save Papyrus? But he wasn’t in the big chairs, he was in every corner of the Underground. Work is to not sleep. Work is to forget the whys and focus on the hows, all the time, not change anything. Knowledge is pain, and that vague memory and the time machine in the attic made him feel like he could change anything. But work doesn’t pay for extra hours, and he lost Papyrus looking through the bushes and the snow.
What had he been doing when he was killed? What? When the poor white dogs turned into red and then into gray dust? When Undyne and Alphys tried to contain the human? When the lady on the other side of the door disappeared with only the wish of the human safe?
Work is pain, routine, and routine is supposed to be constructive, real, and yours, but you do what they say you to do, and you are always set to failure. Hours looking into the white that turns in the little sleep that you don’t have at night. Waiting into this game of doing everything and meaning nothing, because in the horrible word work, there’s no space for meaningness.
But those eyes meant something different, something beautiful, something that is worth living for. Lavender’s eyes and the flowers and the fluttering of wings in the cavern. The hand that made him believe in the future. Will he have to shatter those eyes? They were always half closed, now they were wide open. Then he could hear something “WHY?” WhY? why? WHY? why? why?…

“BeCAUse HE SAiD TO”

“BECAUSE HE’LL KILL US IF WE DON’T!! DON’T HATE BROTHER! HE IS SO KIND WITH ME… HE DOESN’T WANNA…”

But work is something you have to do, no matter what. He would not lose that pair of eyes. So this dummy could be used as a coin of change for those original lavender eyes. He was thinner, he was tinier, he was purplish and not as quiet.
He remembered the time when he caught those beautiful eyes for the first time. He didn't scream, he just trembled, like a leaf high up in a tree. He was so cute that he could not do anything but kill him fast. Not like the others, he had always been different. Work descriptions are a good place to find solace when you are in a predicament. His said to cut the problem out, so he closed his eyes and ruined the socket that held up those purple eyes. Of course, there were screams, but the voice of a false living creature is not important at all. Maybe like the screams of a squid trapped, louder than the motors of the ship, but a needed part of the job. Obviously, there were kicks, but Patch held him tight even when crying.
When it was over he touched Patch's head. He built a net for the new roommate (it was the fifth). He usually let his gest in between the flowers, but Nightmare had asked for better security. Just for nothing. His eyes should have been bleeding but his special bone knife left him with a blurring of glitches.
He took the hand of Patch and ran to his little garden, and the space, that sounded like sobs, let them build new flower crowns.
Lavender build crowns too, but smaller. His technique was, of course, more refined, and the type of flowers was diverse. He had asked Poppy to go to Peri’s house to rehearse some singing. “You can stay till late… Actually, ask if you can stay the night. I’m not sure about the schedule yet.” And now home was a place for five little ones. He had never had much paint lying around before, as he usually just painted details in the house once so often. But Ink has told him to call with paint, that way if something happened with the kids or with Nightmare, it was just a matter of throwing one can on the floor (What a mess to clean).
The conversation with the Star Sanses had not been anything so special. Finding his ride was as easy as looking for a good spot for cloud-watching (And there were few holes in the stone wall in Naturetale) when he felt someone in the forest. His name was Ink and talked a lot about the “design” of the AU aesthetic, the climes, the plants, the clothes. Then he swept the ground with a full-sized broom and took his hand. As easy as teleporting. Omega Timeline, as he called it, was surprisingly white, more so in the borders where they appeared on. He could not admire the views, as it seemed that Ink’s diatribe caught them late for the meeting. The place of choosing was nothing but a simple hut, where Dream and Blueberry (the guy who had talked to him on the phone) waited for them.
Dream tried to scold Ink, but they end up laughing. They were drinking tea. Everything felt familiar and the knot in his soul that he didn’t know he had, just disappeared. It is normal for people of quiet towns to feel so out of place when they go to “real” cities. It was the classic chamomile tea, sweet. He declined the milk when it was served, as there were not many cows in Naturetale, so it felt strange.

“So… Lavender? Sorry for not reaching out earlier. Anyway, thanks for keeping your side of the world so positive.”

“I’m not the one you should thank for it. And I think both of us were in the same till lately. Not knowing about the other, I mean”

“There’s so many of us! AH! It’s too difficult to take notice of everyone.”

“I barely remember Dream, Blue and Error… and Core too”

“I haven’t made an effort to be outside. But things have changed”

“Did something happen to your AU”

“It’s so cruel by me to simply ask for help when we are being targeted, but to have done anything when there were others. So I’m not asking for protection, at least not in essence. I’m pretending to join this war of yours”

“But This-this said you were a pacifist, that you cannot fight”

“Fight, uh. Yes, I do not hurt anyone, not humans, not monsters, not nature. But that doesn’t mean that I cannot fight. Fight is about resistance, about not standing sideways but acting. But act doesn’t mean hurt, sometimes it means love.”

“That’s… that’s weird to say… If we could make that we would have done it already”

“We would?!”

“INK!”

“Well not so weird. Naturetale is neutral ground for Night and me. All because of the chaos of the humans out there. If there’s someone who knows how to keep evil at bay it is the folks of Naturetale! So let’s hear him”

Lavender talked about his happiness end plan. But also about his potions and his ability to heal and make food grow in little time from the ground. Then about different kinds of tea, flower eating, insects, and botany. Then Blueberry remembered the babysitter job.

“They are nice kids I swear! But none of us has the time to take care of them”

“I’ll do it, I already have the pay. I only need some information about their health and ages. You know all the stuff”

And then he was there a week after waiting in his living room for another skeleton to arrive. “Days surely have become frantic” he thought to himself. But the morning birds started chirping and the sun was the same muted yellow, and the streets remained in the peace of the market opening its doors. The world ignored war. But when has the world paid attention to war? or destruction? or sorrow? The world ignores to survive, that’s what he had learned, some had to shoulder the weight of horror so the masses could live and be happy.
A blade cut the fabric of reality. Or he supposed that was what it was (he was a botanist not a physics scientist). An aura made him tremble. The smell of a dead rotten forest. The sound of an animal's last breath. He was afraid. A requiem inside his skull. The blade got down. Screams of souls came from the wound. Long shadowy faces screaming, crying, whispering. The opening grew in the weight of that many souls. The room darkened.
“Do I fear death?” He asked himself. But he didn't, he just didn't want to die. And Death is a dad. Ha-ha. Meditation is such an amazing weapon. One with all, all in one. If you die today your ashes will turn into flowers and then your immortal soul will be reborn again. A smile on his face, his bait gloves tight in his arms, and a thick green welder apron tied at his (nonexistent) waist. He was ready. He raised his head.
A dad appeared in his line of vision. Imponent but exhausted. The skeleton looked at him from above, not trusting at all. Lav smiled, and, even if his legs were shivering he walked forward. Death had his weapon firm in his hands and the feeling of opposites finding each other made his stomach ache.

“So you are the babysitter? You don’t look particularly strong… You look weak, as a mortal. See! You can not even talk in front of me…”

“Sorry to disappoint. I’m Lavender by the way. We have Ink in the line if anything happens. So I wouldn't be afraid”.

Death touched the bridge of his nose in exasperation:

“I have no time for this! You! Pink Flower or whatever, if something happens to my kids you are dead. Understood?”

“Sup”

“So here are my eldest sons: Raven is the one with dark left eye and Goth is the one with the right one. They are three years old. Then come Silver and Sorel, they are two, well Sorel soon will be. Shinohana: One.”

“I’ve heard so”

The man kept taking out kids from the dark that surrounded him. It was comical.

“So you know to keep your hands to yourself”

Nod.

“We'll come for the children late at night. Hope you're still alive. And umm tanks… I mean… for trying”

“No problem”

And he was gone as well as the screams. But the little kids made the roses in the table hide away in terror. He looked for a while. What a group they were. One of them was already dead, the others seemed a little tiny for their ages. But all could kill by the touch. Being birthed from the darkest place, from the no returning place. As he read about the Nile shore growing, mud black as coal, destroying the homes and the farmers alongside it. But from the mud, the seeds are reborn into new farming fields. The black (or green) god Osiris rules the river and the dead ones. Maybe he should tell the story to the little ones.
He got close to them.

“Hi, I'm Lavender, Nice to meet you”

Work started then. Moving the kids to the new playground. Preparing food and tea with almond milk. “This is work”. That's what he thought. Taking care of others, showing love in little ways. The rhythm of the heart of one growing into one of thousands. There's nothing more healing than to be useful. The oldest talked a lot, trying to explain what they had been doing. It was about time that they go to kindergarten, but their bodies didn't let them. He gave them paper and seeds (rice, beans, peas, lentils) and little dried (and edible) flowers, with a plant corn-based glue. For the other two, he had toys and leftover eco paint, and recycled paper. And for the little girl wooden blocks and plushies. Being busy is nice, it is like breathing, one step at a time. He mostly cooked and watched the play. His schedule told him when to change things up, maybe the kids needed another thing to do, maybe something cold, or warm. The paper turned into socks (Periwinkle’s) and dirt. The plushies into paper-cut mobiles. Maybe some balls to kick. Sleeping time was the best (he would sleep too), in hamacs or cushions on the floor. Work is what you do out of love. Work is taking those little hands and guiding them to the future.
But they kept on bleeding, he soon noticed how they left stains all over the floor, they cough blood, their bones covered in wounds. It scared him, how fragile they could be, how small but hurt they were. Sorel was in the worst state midmorning, Silver got second place when he floated drops of blood fell to the ground. Goth and Raven just coughed sometimes, the same for Shino.
He ended up spending a lot of time cleaning after them, but it didn't matter because he knew what he needed to do. Work is to wait for the unexpected and a little blood was nothing. He got close to the children. “Wanna see something cool?” They got excited. Work is let out the soul as waves of magic in his bones. The little white flowers opened in front of five amazed faces.

“You still alive”

“It seems so”

“Rude on my part. I’m Geno”

“Lavender”

“Guess you’ll become a regular. Thanks”

“Here”

“What’s this?”

“Yarrow. It’s for the bleeding. It doesn’t mix well with pregnancies though. You can give it to them with the milk. Can make cleaning a lot easier”

“Thanks”

That smile was the meaning of the word “work”. For more smiles like those, one keeps trying. For the love in all smiles in the multiverse, it’s worth trying again and again peace.

Chapter Text

Is there ever enough tea? Those days it was all about tea time. One day with the Star Sanses, another with Pyxis, one in the laboratory with Daffodil after one with Queen Maple and King Aspen. Now he had another guest in his living room drinking chamomile tea. Would it matter? Thistle was noticing the change in his behavior. He looked at him from the corner of his eye socket but couldn't do anything. His life was changing but it kept so peaceful.

“You are falling asleep”

Geno didn't have much free time. This was his free day and with a clean house, he could watch his children take an afternoon nap in the hammocks of the nursery. They no longer played in Lavender's living room. The queen had given them a place in Old Town where they didn't have to displace Poppy all day. Officially Thistle had his duties now. He told him that he had already had them. But he didn't. That made Lavender laugh. So his days were all about the five little kids and a new cell phone to receive calls from his bosses or Daffodil.

“Am I? Sorry”

“My kids are not easy. So there's nothing to worry”

“Ha-ha. What worries me is that you are not sleeping. You must be tired”

“I am. But I want to see them. Lately, I can only spend a little with them”

It was raining outside. The water was filtered through the barrier. It always scared him though; knowing that the barrier was easily fooled. The humans above could find the entrance. They could destroy the last thing standing. He took a sip of his tea. He added ginger even if he was not a spicy monster. He wanted to fall asleep.

“I know that look. You don't sleep much at night. Do you?”

“Guilty. Though you must find my field kind of boring.”

“As someone who spends their free time playing with numbers and formulas, I can assure you your thing has to be something more interesting.”

“Well… nothing but some herbs and bugs.”

“Sure thing! As if I just played sudoku!”

It was no game, both of them knew. Lavender did not have determination but patience, but it was the same feeling moving the two skeletons toward something big. They were Sans’ after all. But there are secrets that should remain in those old bones.

Soon there was nothing more to drink, and Geno wanted to leave with the kids. The goodbye exchange was frugal; not too much to say but thank you. And so the nursery was all alone, sad somehow but tired. Although for Lavender the night had just begun.

Outside the moon shone on the trees that ivy hugged. White as the vines that danced in the air. He turned those rusty joints and walked towards his house. He wanted to walk, just a little, like a live being. He felt a little empty, even with everything going on, it was like he wasn't there all the way.

The air was cold. He could imagine one of his dog friends turning into a frizzy ball of hair from it. He didn’t know anymore what made him turn. He just wanted to rest, to sleep between the flowers close to home, to see everyone happy and not to do much. Tea time with friends talking about flowers. God! He wasn't all about studying anymore. Just a little, without worrying about everyone.

But peace is a lie. He doesn’t need someone telling him this like he is dumb. For some to doze in the summer afternoons there’s ones that have to fight for their lives at the other side of the door. Lavender too was one of those warriors.

And all of them were liars, a little more like villains. He never thought of himself as a savior but a product of a wounded world. He has no time to be lazy, not anymore. A cloth was taken out of his eyes and he could see that the world was much bigger. He was better off not knowing, but there it was: reality doesn’t wait.

Naturetale was built on lies. That's the thing when you have to build heaven just in the middle of hell. The rulers had told him long ago: that the young ones must ignore the battle above and below. It was just a funny way to ignore though: all the monsters knew that outside was dangerous, but for them, there were nothing but childhood horror stories. He wished the world were simple like that, in his eyes the world must always be simpler. For him, reality was nothing but a series of misfortunes, war after war in a never-ending cycle. Whispers in the hallways, always tired, holding together a world that so often was crumbling.

That day he was free of “duty”, so he could go eat dinner with Poppy and work all night on his “project” (that was, in fact, not “his”). Daffodil had given him her findings at a tea party yesterday, and he was about to run his own tests. He felt like she could know him, that the eyebags that he saw in her eyes told him about someone just like him. Someone so twisted, so tired, but patient.

Yes, it was about patience. To rebuild the word above to the one it was before. Science is what happens to preserve hope. To carry on what is known to the future, to create a new future, hope is in spirituality and science. Hope. Hope is real when you have to fight to keep on hoping, anything else is nothing but nostalgia. He had face the evil and come through the other side believing.

More tea at dinner, he gave Pops chamomile tea with mint and prepared for himself a strong black tea. He went to his room, blew out the candles, and teleported to the lab. His brother must have thought he was asleep.

The “lab” was nothing but a greenhouse with a shed at the end. The place reeked of floral scents. It was dark at night, even with the candles on. Back at the studio, he started to read the papers that Daffodil had given him. He took notes for about a half hour.

“Maybe this time…”

~

The sound of the phone was nothing he could adjust to. It was loud and so out of place. Telephones in Naturetale! He had always thought that Daffodil would be the only one.

“Hello?”

“Y-Your friend is here”

“I’ll handle him. Thanks, Daff”

He wasn't mad. His night plans were shattered but he felt calmer. How ironic. He didn't want to be alone, not that night. A desire appeared in his soul. Deep and bright something was born.

He teleported to the most probable location and stopped to hear. The birds, the wind, and the white noise in between it. Fatal was the easiest to find in the forest. He was a predator trying to warn everyone that he was there.

“Hey!”

He jumped with a fearful face and Lavender could do nothing but laugh. Eyes up, the wind goes through them. They breathed. Both of them were alive. What a coincidence! In the middle of a war there was time for two.

“Wanna help me while I work?”

He held the hand offered to him. The wind went back and forth playing with flowers and scarfs. It was a beautiful image. They were close, but Lavender seemed calm. Fatal, though, felt his heart skip a beat. He was beautiful, old and wise. He was probably younger than him, taking into account all the resets (were there resets in Naturetale?) but felt… different, more mature even. The beat that was stolen from him was used to move them deeper into the forest. They were in front of Lavender's lab.

It was not pleasing to light all the candles again. Fatal follows him to every single one. He names each plant, but can't hold a yawn here and there. How much he would like to sleep right now. An image crossed through his mind: Fatal watching him sleep. That white nose’s sound was almost like a waterfall. Waterfall or not, there was too much work to do.

“Can you help me collect some herbs? I'll give you a list”

The shed needed candles as well. It was small but full of cabinets and books. In the center a desk with its own light. Breathe in, time to work. That day must be a push in the right direction. First he had to work in the review of Daffodil’s paper. Minutes went by as the moths outside tried to go by the candles. Every little thought was turned into letters in the papers. Every dot could mean something.

“TtHee FLOWERS”

His broken voice sounded sweet. He had that kind of shyness that talked directly to him. He offered a basket of flowers completely filled. The colors didn't speak about the poison inside of them. Most of them produced neurotoxins ready to end the life of anyone who ate them.

“Let me see… It's all right. Looks like the pictures that I gave you helped!”

“WhAT ARE the FlOWers fOr? THEY aRe DaNGERous”

“You noticed it. You have good eyes” Maybe he could help.

“YoU ARE tRYinG tO kILL SoMEThinG”

“Yes, I am. Not anything to worry about. And… Weren't you the one trying to kill me in the first place?”

“IiI ??”

“Just teasing you. Everything is forgiven”

“CAN YoU AnsWER?”

“Let's make a pact. If you tell me what you need me and Pops for, I'll tell you what's this all about. What you say?”

“I'M NoT TELLing YoU anyTHING!!!!!”

“It is settled then. Hey! Can you grind those purple flowers while I finish with the paperwork?”

Fatal was confused. Nothing made sense. Lavender was so calm, maybe this was a trap. It had to be. If he wasn't going for his secrets, what else would he want? But it felt so heartwarming, so cozy, so at home, that he couldn't do anything but to start to help.

Lavender was so focused on his studies. He took his jacket and rolled up his green sweater. He took five glass made petri dishes, looked at them for a while, and even sniffed them. Then he went to the furthest part of the shred and pulled on an old, stained sheet, revealing something Fatal couldn't phantom in Naturetale: A computer and a big white microscope. I didn't melt well with the rest of the scenery.

Lav took a blade. It had a wooden handle, but still, he was made for gardening tools, not this. He took just a little of every sample (cleaning the knife with Fatal only could describe as alcohol). He took a big pile of received paper and put it by the side of the microscope, a pen and started to look closely at every sample. He writes too much, Fatal sometimes thought he saw him draw. Often, when he would have ended a chore, he would turn and ask for something else (boil some flowers, crush others…) he even ends up knowing how to extract oil from some of them. He was always busy, but that couldn't stop him from leaving that place behind. There were bad things in the walls, he could see some strange code from behind the poisons. But it felt nice. Even if Lavender did not look as calm as he pretended to be, the room was filled with the sounds of the forest at midnight.

The hours were long. There was no clock but he felt the time crawling towards the morning. All night has passed by. He envied Lavender’s ability for being so clean, to follow a process so closely. When the birds started chirping, Lavender finally got up from his chair.

“Sorry, I took all your night. I have to go soon to my room, so I guess it's goodbye for now”

Fatal felt empty but a little tired (nothing he wasn't use to as he spended a little more in his own work) but saw something else in those eyes that watched him. Something dangerous but kind. Something unexpected.

“I almost forgot, here for your garden: they're aconites. Pretty cute. Hah?”

From his hands a row of blue helmets grew. He extended them to him. It was goodbye. His anxiety told him it was a forever goodbye, but the look in his eyes told him otherwise. He was mad. Maybe he was mad because Lavender didn't act as he expected him to do, maybe because he was supposed to be the saint of the two. Maybe he was just excited for some reason. Maybe Lavender was the key pease missing.

The aconites in his hands ached all the way down to his save screen. In his garden there were his babies growing, strong as weeds, because he didn't know how to care for them.

Chapter Text

The darkness was endless. A macabre scenery took place in the deepest place of it. For Fatal it was nothing more than routine. His hands moved quickly so as not to see, as if he was nothing but a butcher doing his job. He was an expert in cutting without killing, but there was the problem: this was about hurting. Hurt was a feeling that he was too connected to, he was in eternal pain after all. Every day he had to face the fact that people had gone out of their way to hurt him. That little devil of a kid was still in his nightmares. And there was Error. He never knew why he was so mad that day nor why he didn't end his misery. He now knew how Error’s works looked after he was done; it was nothing like his dimension looked right now. But all that matters is the pain.
This job made him put all the weight on the sore bones, but it was helpful research. He did not feel guilty. He had managed that feeling long ago. His thought process was foolproof. There where life didn't have a place, right where there was no soul, where the notion of creation and abomination connected; in that place, there could not be real pain.
The monsters in front of him could not feel pain. In other words, he could not hurt them. It was such a simple science: how could reality hold two of one kind? This was his necromancy. Ghost of monsters that could serve as input for his projects.
In that sense, Nightmare must have been a big-time idiot. He, more than anyone, must know that these copies could only harm those who are still alive. That has been his mistake with Naturetale, he let Thistle know, and with that he let Lavender know. He had never made that mistake again. Lavender, though, was such a stupid monster. Who else would know and still call him a friend? Maybe he knew. Maybe he was smart enough to know that he didn't harm his brother. Or he was as twisted as himself.
Bird looked at him angrily. His wings were big and raised tall in the web of red string. Both of his hands were broken. Fatal worked on his ribs. He didn't have anything but the strength of his arms (and his needle). Making tools was such a bother. Patch helped more quietly since he stole a pair of noise-canceling headphones from Dancetale (the ones helping Dance to sleep with all the music). He never looked up. He couldn't. It was a moral thing. If one could have morals in that place. The faces contorted by screams were just as bad as the sounds. He just thought that if he didn't know those people he could be safe from his own judgment.
“...there will be consequences. Someone will find you and…”
Fatal’s method was silence. He didn't realize when he laughed. It never meant that he was enjoying himself. It was a reflex. He acted as if he didn't understand the language of his interlocutors. It was a sad exchange: laughs and pain for insults and screams. He actually didn't have a language of his own. How did he talk with that dude? Since his encounter with Error, he had lost all his words. His vocal cords were broken forever. He hadn't thought about that since he had no one to talk to. That's a lie, there was always someone. But he didn't want to talk to anyone. Maybe those lonely years have made a dent in his soul. It was common knowledge that he didn't have anything to say. But even then, his silence protected him. To not have connections is to not have to lose anything. His world looked like a silent movie, distant and artificial.
In a way, he had decided not to talk. When Flower-Gaster tried to pierce his skull he realized the kind of loneliness that he was forced into. He was a killer machine. An impulse. A mere thought. The blood that went down his hands made him ask himself if he could make his plan work. He liked people. At least a long ago he did. The way they were kind or the muffled sound of their voices made him feel complete. But that was a world with Papyrus in it.
Pain is loud. Around him the white noise and the screams made him pray for deafness. Deep inside there was nothing but emptiness. A black hole that asked for more. People can't understand what an obsession really feels like. The darkness of a desire that should not happen, the constant impulse to fall in it. When he had that desire he needed to stitch things together and to do that he needed to kill. His hands were too eager to rip things apart. He didn’t know for how long he had lived like he was in a dream. Sleepwalking through the incomplete bodies of monsters that he didn’t know but were so familiar. He was lost.
Patch held his hand. He should have those it away. But he couldn't. Patch had flowers in his hands, little white flowers that he didn’t know the name of. He looked down and there were flowers in his jacket. He was in the center of the save screen holding hands with Patch and covered in flowers. He didn’t remember. Again. Even if nothing was quiet it felt like it. Just these little moments of nothingness made him keep going.
“How sweet, Fatal…”
He was more angry than afraid. He could hear Gaster laugh behind him. He could feel the glitching presences retreat to the darkness. Nightmare descended from the endless black of above. He looked at Patch and he noded to an order he didn’t know he had given. Patch soon was out of the picture.
“You made me so happy! Your work is spotless. A real professional”
His eyes were fixed in that dark gop. He couldn’t hear anything. It felt so heavy around his chest. All his sorrow grew till he wasn’t able to hold it back. Blue and red tears fell through his cheeks. He couldn’t do anything but wait. The glitches filled the air like an insect cloud. The silence of his captives was ominous. So was the only eye that looked at him from above.
“Look all of this! Almost fifty of the happy Sanses all in one place: suffering”
Fatal couldn’t look up anymore. He felt ashamed. Why though? He hadn’t done anything wrong. This way of working was making him slip further into madness. Some people called that man “King”. He sure felt like one. It was almost as if he was bowing. He was such an idiot. His hands were like rocks and trembling in fear. Time had just stopped for him.
The shadow that was cast by that man grew concrete in the dark floor in front of him. The light from above was white and cold. It was freezing. That was a place that was more a prison than a home. Even then the goop dripping on the hard floor felt intruding. Long ago he had been called a hunting spider. He reminded some bugs like that in Naturetale, when they were disturbed they went out of their dark corners and showed their fangs. He couldn’t do that today.
“Who do we have here? Bird, Lust, The Swap Brothers, Candy… Oh! Sansta! I wanted that one like this for a long time, Cross, Dance, Brasser, Fell…”
He kept pointing at the skeletons hanging, almost as if he had a list. It was an inventory. He looked so happy and that made Fatal nauseous. Something wasn’t right. Why was that man happy? What did he gain from the suffering of these copies? He had told him that he needed bad feelings from those Sanses, but they couldn’t feel anything, they were soulless mannequins; backup copies. Didn’t he tell him that he could feel that kind of thing? He must have been wrong. Something…
“How do you do it, friend? You sure are a menace! I have plans for you”
He put one tentacle on his shoulder. It was like petroleum, sticky and gross.
“Good job”
He walked away and went from one side to another like he was in a museum. He stopped at every new “work of art” for a couple of minutes. The monsters that still had some strength in them cursed him or pleaded for mercy. The others tried to lie low. The artist didn’t look up. Was he crying? He was afraid of his own mind. He made a conscious effort not to think about anything. As always he had to forget. To erase, to clean, to stitch.
He couldn’t tell if it was daytime or nighttime. He should be used to it: the Save screen had no concept of time, but it felt so wrong. The light was so bright. The contrast was so high in the shadows. He was dizzy. His eyes could only catch glimpses of code all around him.
He was technically not blind, but sometimes he was functionally blind. Long ago he had forgotten faces, he only saw code. Code can give you so many details that otherwise would be mysteries, but never the feeling of watching a face shift through emotions. It was good for the job, the static buried all the screams and the pain was a number on the screen. But it was lonely. Now he knew all of a sudden that he could never recognize Papyrus. No matter how hard he tried he had forgotten the face of his brother. Maybe he had destroyed him. Down there a million Frankenstain’s monsters' bodies, and he could have lost him.
Who was Papyrus, anyway? The bright red in his eyelights was the only thing left. He didn’t even get to see his brother’s code. That essence, that color, it was all intuition, not reality. For the first time in a long time, he was thinking, really thinking. Work is one thing: you put things where they should be, do what you are supposed to, and follow the pattern. But he did not think. Think is an introspective process, is about judging yourself, weighing the good and the bad on a scale, and making the right choice. He had postponed that part. All that mattered was Papyrus, but he didn’t think about him. He was unable to think.
“See? Hearing me always sent you on the right path. Now you have the king by your side. It should be no work to bring Papyrus back”
“PApyRuS…”
“They are just copies. You know that. Let the king think his way. You need to work”
A scream sounded behind him. In that moment it felt real for the first time. It was almost as if he could hear the pain itself emanating from that scream. He looked up slowly, afraid to see for the first time, but he didn’t see anything: just code. All the screams were buried by the static. He was out of touch. No number can contain the desperation that must be out there, no static the chaos or the pain. But he knew now. That couldn’t be changed.
Anger and sorrow flowed in his bones. Papyrus had been his holy grail for so many years now that it made no sense to change anything at this point. All around him, Papyrus greeted him from lines of code and colors. Papyrus was everywhere like a deity. And he was the sinner.
He didn’t notice when Nightmare left. Probably he had told him things about the good job he had done, probably instructions for the future. But he didn’t care anymore. Was he crying? On his face, red and blue tears washed the blood he was covered in. Under his nose the scent of fresh-cut flowers. In his hand a hand holding tight.
“BROTHER IS OK, HE IS GONE NOW”
It was like being awake for the first time. It hurt badly. How easy was it to end it all, to succumb to destruction. It was a self-inflicted pain as punishment for losing Papyrus. He could not say his name without pain. Why? Did he ever do something so bad? He tried to live a simple life, to make every monster happy. The human had killed him because he didn’t help the other kids, he knew that: the king, Undyne, Alphys. None of them had their hands clean. But then again: Was it that bad to try to save your loved ones? He had had countless nights trying to fix it all. He did it once again when he was trapped in the save screen. He was trying to save them all. But karma is the worst enemy and he was destined to suffer.
“DO YOU FEEL OK?.... DO YOU NEED… HELP?”
His memories were useless. That’s why he used to forget everything. Nothing had meaning. He, Patch, Lavender, were nothing more than pawns in a bigger game. He was not supposed to think just to act, just destroy everything in the name of love. He was the force of vengeance. But now he was trapped in a loop of bad thoughts. The past he was so desperate to bring back didn’t exist. That meant that the future he thought he was building wasn't meant to be. What was his purpose then? To be an acolyte of that goopy monster for the rest of eternity?
Patch’s face appeared in his eyes as if it was the first time. The big goofy eyes, the broad shoulders, and the always so-loud mouth. Why was he protecting this monster? He should be something bad, some kind of abomination born from his greed, he should be stupid and rude like a broken glass. But at that moment he sounded like Papyrus.
He was covered in flowers again. That was Patch's love language. He felt suffocated like a tree in spider webs. Even then he decided to hug Patch. As if life had meaning or if the future could be better. It felt like a last resort for holding his psych together.
Even if he wanted he could not free all the monsters. They would tell others what had happened there. He would put Patch at risk. And Nightmare would kill Lavender. Everything was being turned into a coin of change. He needed alone time. Patch understood as he always knew those tiny things. He knew how to keep himself quiet and to not push a confused Fatal too far.
He changed the black for the eternal white outside of the save screen. But he wasn't alone. Someone sat in the middle of the caos. He was alone. For how long he had been that way?
“object(you)=CAN, if(be; so “cruel”; sometimes)”
Again silence.
“YOU /kn3w what; YOU(WERE doing)”
He wanted silence.
“act(D1dn’t YOU)”
“FAtAl. I AM faTAl”
“@you at(have) left US input: alone”
His name was all sound but he couldn't change anything. What did he wanted?
“object(YOU) action: made object: a deal WITH (him)”
Somehow he wasn't mad at the voice of Sans talking. For the first time in so long he felt like he should answer.
“question(WHY)”
“To PROteCt.”
“at(you + ARE= hurting) THEM”
“to prOtECt”
“question(WHO)”
“DOn’T knOW”
“HA-ha% (I).... YOU….”
“WhO ARE You?”
“me=”Sans”=false; me=”8/9””
“8/9… IM faTAl”
How funny to feel so happy knowing someone that will weigh on you. He soon understood that 8/9 was nothing more than the rest of his soul. So many times he had tried to convince him to kill everyone, and now, he had to help him to save them. They shared a lot, even if his madness had turned into forgetfulness.
8/9 stayed right there with him. He didn't know how to act around faTAl who had Drow thoughtful since the chit-chat from before. FAtAl didn't seem happy and weighed something hard to describe.

“It doesn't add”
Another scribble into the paper. Archive is something both frustrating and relaxing. That day was nothing but sad. Chronicle knew what he would find before he started which is not so good for a research. No matter what Ink tried to tell him the catastrophe was unstoppable. He tried and tried so hard to keep being helpful but there was a reality outside of his control. Memory had turned into the joke of destiny. He was dying. His scars hurted from inside. He was going to die and there was no one who will remember him.

Chapter Text

The night was calm for all the turmoil inside Lavender. Every moment was pain. He didn’t know why it was still so hard. Overgrown was now in winter, even though other places in Naturetale had not changed seasons. The cold slipped through the cracks in the rock ceiling down to the green grass. He knew what few monsters knew: out there seasons had turned into a nightmare: harsh winters of stained snow and no food for the humans that moved like wounded little pigeons with so many diseases and broken wings.
He often asked himself if he should hate humans. One part of himself wanted to blame them for all of that. Trapped in a can with all that was left (so little of it), wishing for a world that no longer could exist. Everything was a sigh, a long, sad sigh. The world outside was dead, they could feel it in their souls, so many of them were dead too. There were not more than a couple hundred monsters in the underground. Some burial sites were scattered all around Naturetale, but most of them had ended in the barren outside world. The nature must follow an order. Death must turn into life again. Everything remains in a way. But not anymore. The greed he had seen in humans, the hatred and the darkness, is something he had never found in monsters.

But he wasn't stupid enough to think they were somehow superior. No one ever was. He knew well about the children’s suffering. More so about the humans who fought back. Buttercup and Chara were always eager to show him that people can change. Even then it was so little against all the bad things done. The moment in which earth will come back, when monsters and humans would live again in peace was an impossible he had to run for. Well, everything is made of that feeling of wanting more than it could be given. Those days, however, he had that kind of idea running wild in his head.

“Old man! Hey! Old man!”

He didn't answer but looked at him.

“You have something in mind. Tell me will ya? It's getting boring hanging here with the walls”

“You wouldn't be here if you were better behaved”

“As if you knew”

“I have my ways. You are still searching for a weapon. Aren't you?”

“Well! Ya know? You ain't better! I know what you do to those dudes down there!”

“You're right kid. I ain't better…”

“Then… Why are YOU outside?!”

He walked away like the coward he was and into a deeper darkness.

He had wanted for so long to say it out loud. The world should see how low things really were. It was foolish to think that way, secrecy has a purpose, King Aspen had told him before. But it had been so long and things weren't getting better. The danger made his head fabricate nightmares every night. He worked by inertia. Collecting samples was bad, but administrating medicine was the worst. He was so small, he was so fragile. He felt that way. Like he wasn't anything at all, but at the same time like he was some kind of psycho.

When he finally could breathe the air outside the laboratory, he had tears in his eyes. How could he turn something like that into a routine? No matter the long decades he had done that, it could never become familiar. He touched the nearest tree for reassurance. The sound of the sabia climbing fast and the feeling of liveness was so warm in a way that he let himself cry a little. The world down there wasn’t ready for the touch of the light, as all universes resented the feeling of the warm light of peace.
Could the world end up when there was no more conflict? It was a nice question. Because nature is not all kindness and love, nature was such a savage. The periods of history where not much was happening were the saddest. Maybe some seaweed or bacteria. Not so much diversity. He was a pacifist, but he knew that the world had been a kill-or-die scenery always. Even he had to kill plants to eat, just like that: one less life. He wanted to fix it all, to create real paradises.

“H-how did it go?”

“It was fine Daff, as always. I’m off to work.”

He gave his smile to one of the few monsters who could truly understand him. She was one of his dearest friends. Always a call from him, always true, even when nervous. He had a cloth bag under his arm where everything was nice and secured, a few potions kept everything at the right temperature and moisture. He teleported without thinking, no one should see him leaving the apothecary hut or the caves close by. Even the dog guardians didn’t know about it nor did the princes. Only four people. He didn’t consider himself that bright, he was such a useless researcher, but, even then, he was one of the few, shouldering the blame by himself.

Sometimes he thought that everyone knew, that they had forgiven him, that they didn’t want to bother him with the discussion. It was easier those days to walk in Overgroun and be a part of that world. But the smile of his brother told him otherwise: no Popy of his will kept on being that happy if he recognized his cruelty. The thing was that someday everyone would find out about the secret and Naturetale would never be the same.
He sat at his desk doing pretty much nothing. He was nauseous and tired, so, when he heard the prerecorded standard music of the little machine, he thought himself to be dead. The music grew louder and louder, the light sharper and for a moment he threw that thing into a wall.

“Hello?.... Yes, I’m going. No, thanks to you”

The sound of a voice was not the same in that kind of thing, but well, they were so useful, so having one was a kind of gift anyway. He dried up his tears in a hurry, the world had taught him again that he didn’t have time to be vulnerable. In front of a mirror he hid in a closet, he looked perfectly fine so he went to the door, doubly at first but, after practicing his smile a little, he was finally ready to keep going.

His senses were not as sharp as usual so he teleported from one part to another for a while, till he found him hugging himself in a ball under an old oak that sheltered him with his overground roots. Fatal tried to cover his ears as if something horrible was sounding all around him. The glitches were the worst part, even if the tree and the snow could have made the little white figure disappear, the storm of boxes disturbing the scenery and the loud white noise made so clear where he was.
When he stepped ahead to reach him the snow cracked loudly. Like a cornered deer, Fatal tried to look for a way to escape forcing Lavender to teleport closely.

“Bud, It’s ok, It’s me. Don’t you smell the flowers? See? You are safe. I’m here. It's over….”

He kept going, he couldn’t dare to stop. Fatal wasn’t ok in that moment. He needed to be there for him. Fatal became quieter, and in a moment grabbed both of Lavender’s hands. He looked right in his eyelights, fixed in something Lavender wasn’t sure if he could give him. He breathed slowly as if he was going back to being himself.
He held him close as if he was something dear, but trembled as if he feared him. Lavender felt that he could not tolerate that no more. If he was going to fail again then… He tried to smile, to show Fatal that everything could be fine, even if he himself was not so sure of it. He knew that it had to do with that guy Nightmare, it was obvious because of his poor social life. If he had just solved that problem then nothing would have happened to Fatal. If he could be stronger.

“I ToUGHt i wAS OVeR It”

“One just not get over things all of a sudden. Whatever is on your mind can come back. That’s a sign of healing. It isn't linear”

“THANKs!”

He laughed and both of them cuddled in between the oak roots. It looked like a little wood cavern. Lav made some grass grow in the opening to protect them from the coldness. Now it was dark, but he had more tricks under his puffy sleeves. His magic glowed in bright green in his hands, soon it shone all over the cave. Little mushrooms seemed like stars around them shining in green too.

“What do you think?”

Fatal smiled. And even if both of them still tried to lie to themselves the feeling they had inside was content, simple content. The mushrooms were like nightlights even if it was the middle of the day, and like scared children, they could not phantom a better place than the hideout.

Fatal rested his head against his shoulder and Lavender felt a shiver down his spine. What was he feeling right in that moment? This was a little movement towards… something, and Lavender didn’t feel sure if he wanted to know its direction. He was afraid, for everything happening around him, this was the worst feeling of them all.

He finally understood that this relationship was way past the acquaintances phase. But there was no benefit without him getting closer. It was cruel but helping requires closeness. He could not stand sideways. No. He didn’t want to stay there without doing anything like always. But even then he was afraid of being hurt. He always felt like the second choice, the mild flavor you take when you want to clean your palette. For so long he had felt non-important, trapped in his job but never making progress. What was his purpose? To fight a lost war? To see all the things he loved die? He felt like he could not live like that anymore but what was the other option?

The thing is that the body acts before the mind can stop it. His head rested on Fatal’s head now as if he had always done that. It was warm and cozy. He thought for a moment that he wanted to stay like that for eternity, that place without wars or big stupid problems that he could not phantom to understand. He wished he could hibernate like the animals in a little den like this one with his favorite people. He liked to sleep a lot, and the moments in which he could just do nothing with his loved ones were his favorites. But he knew pretty well that that kind of dreaming goes nowhere. It is cute, yes, and it can help to focus on the future you want to have, but the only thing to get to the places you want to be is through work, to keep working in what you want to reach, in standing against the bad things.

He was too lazy for this lifestyle. Fatal would not tell him what was on his mind. He would not speak either. The silence was comfortable though. The movements of the life above found the trail to their ears. The constant back and forth of the breeze was the soft percussion they needed. It was perfect like the day his fox would come close to him should have been. Both of them thought about the uncertain future, about that world won't let them simply be. Tomorrow seemed like a word of sorrow and shame. It was cold outside, so there was more reason to keep the warmth together. Does skeletons can produce warmth? They did.

Lavender was sleepy so he tried to focus on something. His hands produced flowers without one thought on his head. The flowers were yellow, white, pink, and red. He was making a bouquet, maybe too big for his own good. Fatal watched as if the repetitive movement of Lavender’s hands was something way more magical than it actually was. That sensation that happens when you see anybody in a rhythmic chore, when you get in a trance and all your problems disappear was what had enchanted Fatal. Lavender noticed that with a playful grin, he wanted to know what Fatal would do if he gave him the chance.

When Lavender offered a bundle of rain lilies to Fatal for a moment there was a silence. Fatal took it carefully and extended the strings in his mouth. He wrapped the flowers and made ribbons of thin red string. They synchronized their movements in a way only people who have experience in teamwork can describe. Something like not belonging to yourself anymore, like not having an isolated identity but a cosmic conscience of sorts. The funny part though, was that their work was useless: no one should see those bundles of rain lilies. They thought about people to who they wanted to give those flowers, for Fatal, most of them were dead, for Lavender they were so close it was painful to lie to them.

The tiny hole was now filled with fragrant flowers, for many the smell could be too much, someone like Fatal usually would have run away from that kind of stimuli, but there with Lav by his side, it felt like a fairy tale. He wasn’t himself, the scent got into his head and made him dazy.

“Let’s do potpourri”

They didn’t realize the amount of time they spent together. For truth's sake, one should add that they didn’t exactly count the time they spent together on the nights they used to meet. But in those, everyone was asleep already and both of them were the kind of monster that didn’t care if they got asleep duringring work hours. The simplicity of being with someone you like, even if you can't understand them, turns into joy too easily. Between the strong embrace of the oak, they were unusually close. It didn’t matter as they half asleep worked together. Someone could say that the closeness of the body translates to the closeness of the soul. Even if that’s just a lie, it was certain that for them that closeness meant something. The problem was the meaning of that something.

A melody interrupted everything. The artificial sound was rash and rough. Each note hit like a nail the skulls of the skeletons. The magic was over.

“Hello”

“Lav-v… I-I was wondering if everything is a-alright… you weren’t at your post….Rose called me, and since it was a few hours since…”

“Not need to worry Daff, I’m only lazing around. Tell Rose that I’ll get there in a moment. Hope she is not that mad”

“So you are…ok?”

“Never been better”

“O-ok”

The smile of courtesy on his face disappeared in one instant. He wasn’t like that. The kind of monster that just doesn’t want to live life as it is supposed to was far from the concept of Lavender. But there was he, yearning. The pain of not filling his own slippers was new to him. His plans were too big but his stamina too low.

“YoU HAVE a phOne”

“It doesn’t fit me, right? You don’t happen to have one too…”

“Nno I DONT”

“Sad thing. I was hoping we could talk more often. I have to go, my boss is mad at me. Do not worry about the flowers, if we left them hanging like that they would be dry in no time.”

“....”

“In the nights I have more time alone if you want to hang out. But if you need someone by daytime I can make some space for you”

“...GOdBye”

Fatal felt so awkward now that everything seemed to go back to normal. They were too close. Lavender’s nose was right in front of his. They breathed the same air. When was the last time he had been that close to someone? It was the same with Patch lately with all the flowers in his coat and giving hugs. I was becoming softer. He quickly made a portal and jumped in it before Lavender could answer. He did not remember why he had ended in Naturetale anymore.

Lavender moved the grass and stepped outside. He hid the place to keep the flowers safe. In one movement he was by his post. He had just dozed up when a strong punch in his post made him jump. No, he had felt her since she was storming towards him from the path to Overgrown.

“YOU SLEPY HEAD! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING DISAPPEARING ALL DAY! YOU KNOW YOU HAD THE AFTERNOON SHIFT. WHAT WOULD HAVE HAPPENED IF A HUMAN APPEARED AND YOU WEREN’T HERE??”

“Poppy could have handled them. He is the best, you know?”

“Do not come with your stupid games again. You have one job: Look out for this path and tell me if some human appears! Understood?”

“Yes, sir”

He usually liked being on watch, he could sleep a lot or char with Buttercup or the dogs, but lately, he was getting a little overwhelmed with all his activities. Watch hours collided with research time or with babysitting duty when it was not the interdimensional travels. He was at max capacity and others were starting to notice the change in him.
Luckily it was not rare to find him napping in some random place after not seeing him for hours so few monsters were really concerned. Brook was one of the first to notice it, the few hours that he spent at his place now compared to the ones before, made him ask all the time if his tea had gone bad or something. The king and queen had raised their concerns too but he had told them that it was a thing of accomplishing himself to the new routine.

But he could not stop. Yes, he was tired, he felt some sort of fear about all these new things added to his plate. But there was more. How long since he had dreamed like that? His job was to keep Naturetale safe and that was exactly what he was doing. His mind was working extra hours trying to find a way to make everything ok, how to create peace, real peace. Pyxis had told him to stop for his own good but actually had helped him with most of his research. He wasn’t planning much, hell he wasn’t even the protagonist of the story. Everything was happening in the back, but he was so tired of being in the sideways.
The hours passed through him but he was just pretending to be asleep. Under his desk, a new book Daffodil had given to him occupied most of his time. It was a copy of the inoculation theory with great examples of his work. He had to give back the time he took to be with Fatal anyway. The walk home was as usual: he went for tea at Brooks who joked about how he didn’t come to the inn anymore. Everything had gone fine that day (well… he would have liked it if his boss had spared him the scolding). He still had to think about everything again but the idea of Fatal trusting him made him so happy.

The wooden door of his house glowed yellow for the candles inside. He already could feel himself resting. But when he opened the door a punch in the face welcomed him. He could hear Popy gasping for air.

“Stay aside Pops”.

How long ago was he punched like that? The fist on his face told him everything he needed to know. It was normal, he thought, for Thistle to get so mad at him, it didn’t it painless, but he was oh so used to this kind of lash out.

“You seem to have something to discuss with me. Care to go on a stroll around waterfalls?”

“Don’t give me that stupid neutral face of yours…”

“You are scaring Poppy”

Chapter Text

“Eat this”

Thistle offered a sandwich without looking him in the eyes. It was cold outside, and snow pilled in the doorway. It was way too quiet.

“Thanks”

Lavender was way too afraid of that conversation. He couldn't do anything; those were the consequences of his own actions. The silence grew thicker as Thistle searched for a way to start. He was frowning, clenching his hands in a knot, and breathing slowly. He was way past mad; the anger didn’t have enough room in his tiny body.

“I...Ugh!”

He started again.

“It’s…. It’s dudes like you the ones that fuck it up. Every time. Who do you think you are? Some kind of hero? No, you are a dumbass. This place was fine before you fuck it up. It was outside of any harm. It was a goddam paradise!... You thought I wouldn’t find up. Do you think I’m stupid?! I AM a Sans, just like you. So all the brains you think you have up there I have right here with me. (he taped his forehead) You are not that sneaky. I don’t even know if I want you to explain yourself.

“Do you feel important? Just because you drink tea with the great Star Sanses or you run between universes with that freak you call a friend doesn’t mean you matter a single bit in the big scheme. You are way too soft. It's war for good sake, a war. Don't think you ever understand that. Kill or be killed, that's what war is about. Those dudes you drink your green stuff with are the ones that can’t get killed. WE are the bottom line, we are the ones that die. You, Poppy, even the king and the queen will be gone in a matter of time. All of this, what everyone worked so hard for will be gone.

“I heard you talked with Cupid. Why him? Sansta is totally scared, their world has never mixed in that kind of problem, but for the looks of it, Cupid is on your stupid plan. How did you manage to do that? It's just too fishy to say the truth. He is gone all of a sudden after talking to you. I can’t even imagine what do yo have in that skull of yours. Black Friday was crying the other day for Fucks Sake!

“There’s simply too much happening! Why this place, Lavender? Why ruin everything? I thought highly of you, this was supposed to be the perfect place. YOU promised me that there would be no wars inside this barrier! You promised me that you were different. Then WHY? Why would you ruin everything? What are you after?”

He was crying. Lavender had not expected him to catch out so quickly, but, after all, Thistle was an intelligent skeleton: he knew his ways. He weighed his answer. What could he say? All his plans were confidential, or at least that’s what he had agreed with the Star Sanses.

How do you tell someone that a perfect world is not made by waiting? How, when they think it’s all about doing things right and receiving good things in exchange? How to tell him that it had always been a lie? That his role as a Sans was to lie to everyone? To explain that this world wasn’t meant to be happy, that nowhere is. The explanation that he was being asked to give was the words he couldn’t speak, no matter what.

This world had never been happy, most of them weren’t, not ever. Good stories are told through hardships and sorrow, that’s what Ink had told him when Dream wasn’t around. That day he understood what was left out of Ink’s discourse: hardships are only special when someone is fighting for them, and life only has purpose when there’s a problem to resolve. There are no paradises in the universe, only chaos, and living creatures thrive in solving an unsolved puzzle. That's what he was doing meeting with all the people he knew, he was moving a piece in that machine so he could fight it.

He was mad his secret was all out in the grass. He liked his secrecy, it was something about morals, about not being in the center. He liked to sleep too much, not to be disturbed, to work in silence. Step by step all the things he had inside his head gained color, and that alone could bring him joy. He would prefer to keep everything for himself, the world would be quiet that way.

It was true that he had waited a long time for a confident, some kind of friend who could understand the crunching weight of the responsibility. But that person could not be Thistle, he had too much baggage. They could only get him to be like this because he thought that Naturetale was way too different from Naturefell, if he knew that that was a half lie, that inside Lavender it was not complete, then he could not be a friend anymore.

How could he talk to him without breaking him again? How not to get back to that monster full of rage and fear he knew that time in Overgrown? When someone changes that much in such little time it is fragile like a cub, Lav should be responsible for his wounds, he should be better. This was the thing he was working so hard to protect. He was gambling all his dreams and hopes in one interaction.

He wished the time had gone slow while he thought so badly about what to say. Buttercup had shown him the Jenga game, and at this moment he was thinking about which block to pull out. He felt tense, and that was something really rare in him. He was looking at the grass, the world looked gray and so dark that night that he couldn’t think about anything but his failures. He was so small, so useless.

He had already died once, a long ago, no, in a different time. At that timeline, only Brook had escaped the destruction, he hadn't been able to do anything. Like everyone else, he didn’t remember much, only bits, mostly pain. But the frustration of not being able to change a thing rested in his head and made a mess inside of him. When he got back to life he decided to not be useless anymore, to act.

“So you were withholding all that intel. Huh?

“You must really think bad of me. Sorry if I made you feel that bad. I-I do not have much to say to you, actually. You are right, I must be crazy. I think so as well. But have no other choice. No, I do have other choices, but I think I’m taking the best one.

“I told you before, I’m not a child, I’m way past a child. I wish you could see me as the adult I am, I wish you could trust me because at this moment that’s what I need the most. I need you. I know you have my back. Gosh! This is you having my back! But I can’t deal with this to continue, all this kid talking to me, all this distrust.

“Who do you take me for? I want you to think about what you told me yourself: All the brains you think you have I have them right here. Don’t you think it is cruel? to tell me that I’m endangering my people just because? I hope you understand how much that hurts. In your eyes, I’m a lazy head, too stupid to understand the situation happening around me, too selfish to not be the hero.

“Want to know what happened? Here it goes: A while back Pyxis warned us about Nightmare and Daffodil found a breach in the barrier. From that point on we were targets, we didn’t come to the war, the war came to us. Since then Queen Maple has been moving earth and sky to try to protect us. That means that we had to get on good terms with the beings that are fighting on our side: the star Sanses for instance, or the Omega Timeline.

“Can’t tell you more than that. The queen wants to keep the war out of Naturetale’s residents' minds till it is absolutely necessary. In the best-case scenario, we end that thing before we get too involved and no one ever has to know the war existed. Worse case we’ll be targeted and destroyed. Then we’ll have to work harder, all together, to fight Nightmare.

“Yes, I brought Cupid on board. I don’t like violence, and he knows everything about how to mend relationships. I wanted his opinion. He understood everything and wanted to do more. It was his decision, not mine. I get that Sansta is scared, but they were next in the line with all the joy they bring to the universe. It was a matter of time.

“Don't look at me that way. I'm not mad. Well… maybe a little. No, I’m tired. I don’t like to be this involved in those matters. All this socialization is not for me, but faces like ours are more accepted out there and someone should have the duty of talking.

“You must be so mad, we usually need to know everything. I know you want to help in your own way, I know This, but I can’t afford to lose you, you are a brother to me. You have done so much for me, you always do, and what can I give you in return? I thought that I could give you peace, that maybe if you could finally live a quiet life, then you’d be happy. But there’s a war out there, soon or later we would have to face it.”

The lie that held all his discourse together made a knot in his heart. Thistle would never understand what had happened between Fatal and him. Even if he was a lot like Fatal, even if Lav helped them both for the same reason: they looked so sad. Everything else was true, the fact was that even if Fatal wouldn't get targetted by Nightmare they would still be in line to get destroyed, but he could not understand that logic. The lie was deep, he had not talked about the humans, about the little time they had left.

“Then… What do you want me to do? Eh? We are screwed and you didn’t even dare to tell me. At least let me… I don’t know… do something. I-I’m trying to understand that all I’ve got is going to shit. Lavender at least tell me what I can do. I’m scared. You keep doing all this stuff behind my back. You think I don’t trust you? When have you ever trusted me? Do you hear me when I speak? Sometimes I think you see me as one of your wounded animals, too little and scared to mean something in the big scheme. Look at me, please, just look at me. I’m part of Naturetale now, I… I least I think I’m one of you. I want to protect this place too but you keep me in the dark..”

“You are part of this, that’s why I didn’t tell you. Man, I love you, I told you, you are my brother, just as if you had been here from the first moment. Don’t ever think I don’t have you in the highest regard. Till now you have been the one dealing with the outside world, and you have been great at it. I trust you. I just thought… I wanted to spare you the suffering. Maybe I wanted to deal with it before it hurt you. I was foolish, I know. But if you want to I can talk with the queen…”

It was cold outside so Lavender’s hand was moved by instinct to touch Thistle’s. He didn’t move. The tears keep running down his cheeks. Lavender’s words had hit him, the realization that everything was crumbling around him paralyzed him. But Lavender was still so warm. Even now he kept that kind smile on his face, so collected, so calm. He could not deny that that flower scent was getting inside his head. It was almost as magic, since the moment he knew him, no matter how harsh he was to him he always was so kind. He wanted to stay with him forever. He thought he was his real brother, the thing that tied them together was deeper than blood, the knowledge that they were two sides of the same coin.

They walked back home to a scared Poppy. They eat dinner together in silence. Thistle didn’t want to lose this, this was all he had, all he ever loved. Deep down he knew that Lavender only wanted to protect this world as well, but he never could see the light the same way as him, he could never know what means to have nothing in the first place.

Chapter Text

“You know it's better if we talk it out…”

“…”

“Don't give me the cold shoulder. Just wanna know what happened.”

Not even Brook realized the tears that Lav held behind his eye sockets. This should not be happening, that must be a nightmare, only in a nightmare he could make sense of the pain, the horrible pain inside his chest. He was too small to be seen from the other side of the bar, he climbed up a chair and was blinded by the yellow light, but behind it, there was the pitiful look on Brook's face.

He trembled every time he didn't know how something worked, but even then his voice sounded just too calm. He wanted to rip the grin out of his own face and show the tiny inverted lavender heart inside his chest. He wanted to know why everything was breaking down just now.

He loved Brook because of how beautiful his days were with him. Loved playing with little Stella and resting his body against the wall of water to sleep. He loved routine and in a moment in which every study of his pointed south he thought that maybe this world he had built with his partner could be his refuge. But all that was left of his safe space was a void.

Later he would realize that it was not something so sudden for Brook to break up with him. That had been a case of constant downfalls that he had not realized from the beginning. It hurt more than if it just happened one day out of nowhere, or if he had made just one big mistake. He wanted to cry for forgiveness, to say he could do better…

“I don’t even really know anything about you… You are such a liar.”

Little Stella hid behind the leaf shirt. Even if it was stupid he wanted Brook’s water to boil at that moment, he wanted to scream, to cause a scene. He rarely cried in public, and if there was a moment for that kind of thing to break with your boyfriend, it was surely one of the few accepted instances. But he couldn’t. He smiled instead like a fool. He was mature enough to know that being truthful could bring him back, that all the love between the two had been real, and if he just were lenient with all his rules then he would have him back.

He weighed his happiness and his responsibilities. He realized that he thought Brook would be happy just being by his side and that he too would be miserable knowing who he really was. So he let him go. He just said “Thank you” and walked away and didn’t come back for a couple of years. Routine brought him back to his feet. His closest friends held his hand, but for everyone else everything was normal. He was the same as always and even in private he didn’t dare to cry.

He had the realization that that was how it would go. Every time he was too boring or too fake. He was a plant boyfriend, and everyone knows that people prefer living pets to take care of, not some static flower that needs attention that it would not beg for.

How was the last time he slept in a while? He felt vulnerable and disoriented. The static in his left ear though, made him laugh a little. It was routine now that sometimes Fatal would appear in his shad and hang out there till his job (whatever it was was a mystery to Lavender) called for him. They didn’t talk at all. Fatal would sit by his side and grind species for him or would watch for hours the butterflies or moths. He would also sleep a lot, mostly when he was busy watching under the microscope. It was peaceful.

He reached with the corner of his scarf and cleaned something off his cheek. Was he crying? He was such a child crying over a dream of a past lover. This time when he smiled at Fatal it felt a little more genuine. Fatal seemed troubled, maybe he too didn’t expect Lavender to cry.

For someone so ruthless and actually cruel the sight of a tear must be something pretty easy to shake off. But this tear wasn’t. He had now a deep desire, a hopeful trust of never seeing that skeleton cry, not ever. He was to him like a blessing, if there was something troubling him he wanted to destroy it. But sadly he could not destroy dreams, so he had to wait there looking at the eye from who those tears came.

Days were dark for him. He reset himself over and over again trying to work for the stupid goop monster. He had cried rivers, a lot of them. His head hurt badly, his mind was clouded. He had gone back in time to the moment he hated himself the most. He hated his own body, and his hands the most because they were always covered in blood. He hated the needle made of his bones so blue and defective. He hated his voice when he ended up yelling at Patch when he could not hold it anymore. He was a pit full of anger towards everything, but the worst part of that hate was the love.

He had started dreaming. His nightmares brought him images of a perfect house in the middle of the forest, a bright smile on Patch's face, and the resting body of Lavender by his side. He was hoping that someday he could tell everything to Lavender and that he would understand. As if he could. He felt dirty, breaking futures and wishing for one for himself.

He now left Patch to take some time off every day. He had let him meet with 8/9, so he could have someone to talk to. He had been present in the conversations, but he never took an active role. But he had reserved the visits to Naturetale for himself. He had grown addicted to the smell of the flowers and the herbs, to the walks under tree leaves and the sound of the birds (that had realized he was not an enemy of theirs).

Alphys had told him many lives ago that work is just like that to humans. Wake up with dark circles under their eyes and hate everything, go through the day crying in a corner and wishing that time would go fast, and act as if everything is fine when they hang out with friends. Humans were too murderers, so that made everything fit for him. This was routine for him and it was taking a toll on him.

Lavender looked at him with those confused eyes that were poisoning his soul. He rested his face in the hand that Fatal had offered to him. He smiled at him, but it was a sad smile. In Fatal grew the desire to know all that man’s secrets, to close an invisible wound with his twisted needle and help him heal. But he also wanted to dissolve himself in the arms of Lavender, to show everything, to kneel in front of him and ask for forgiveness. He wanted to be rescued by him, he felt trapped and those purple eyes were his only safe place.

“Seems like I fell asleep… Today I will be writing a little. Don’t think it would entertain you that much. Maybe you could…. What’s the face? I know it’s still winter outside. Ok, help me classify those new mushrooms. This book should help you with it. Oh! and thanks, you are helping me a lot”

So he spent the precious time classifying mushrooms more by their innate green code than by the book he hardly understood. Lavender wrote with a beautiful blue feather on old paper at a steady pace, not too fast, maybe a little on the slower side. For moments he was clearly drawing and using his pretty dishes as references.

It was late at night and no one knew there were there. Not even Daffodil knew where this building was, well… not even the queen had the real location. The only one who knew was Pyxis, just because he could not hide anything from him. This was the place of silence and reflection, a place for working comfortably and alone. He had never been one to feel lonely so easily, sometimes you have to make time just for yourself. But this was no time for him alone. No matter how beautiful the flowers were outside or how cozy the interior of the shack was, this place was for him to remove the dead. Even if it was only in petri dishes and little bottles, even if the proof was nothing but the papers he had all over his desk, he could not hide to his soul the cruel place this was.

His lab partner was good at classifying things. It reminded him of a character in a book Daffodil found a time ago. It was about a biologist like him, who had a partner who didn't understand well anything about living creatures but knew how to classify all of them. For him that always had been a plot hole, but seeing Fatal look at those mushrooms all focused on something he could not see, he thought that he could understand the book a little better.

He felt bad for making that monster his partner in crime. He didn't know what really happened but helped without the tiniest problem. Lavender should take the responsibility for it. Thistle would hate Fatal more if he knew… he would hate him a little more than Fatal tough.

Fatal had grown into him, he always did his best, and he was kinder than he would have expected from a kidnapper and a suspected killer. He was messy when he worked and couldn't understand some basic biology concepts. He talked about “code”, something only he could see. Lavender asked himself if that was something real but the memory of the strange needle made him certain that that strange non-material thing was a fact.

It actually made him a little jealous of that ability to see the foundation of life and matter. If he could see something like that could he solve all of this? He had grown old and greedy. He was not a saint, he knew he needed those eyes, that, once again his world turned around work. This relationship too would become rigid like taxidermy, as everything else. But any time he was about to ask him he felt a knot in his throat.

The truth was that he was getting tired of doing what he should. He had become disobedient at that age, almost like a teenager. He should have been wiser than to keep such a dangerous being in the second most important lab of Naturetale, he should have been more intelligent and used the power of a powerful being that trusted in him. But those thoughts so focused on the past or the future were useless to him. He was used to the present, every moment with its own taste, every step in peace. He worked every day to save his people, there was not a single thing he wanted more than to fix everything, but that didn't change the fact that he wanted a simple life.

Was what he was doing enough? He didn't know, probably it wasn't, but he had promised to himself not to get caught up in work too much. Queen Maple probably would get mad at him, “He killed Poppy, he should at least help us” everyone would say, but he could not get to a point where he could do it.

Maybe he wasn't so afraid of hurting Fatal more than to hurt himself. If he showed his truth to him and got rejected, it would mean that everyone would do the same and he was scared of ending up alone. No, he was scared of finding that he was a villain, that he was cruel and savage, facing the fact that in the precious place that was Naturetale, there was one true monster and it was him. That fear alone was proof that he already was.

He had nothing to fear, he was supposed to be one good member of the society, and even more, he was doing this to save his loved ones. But Fatal probably was doing the same. That’s the thing with life when you think you are the best is because you are blind to the conditions of everyone else. He didn’t want to be that type of idiot. For now, the company was just what he needed, the useless dream of being understood.

Chapter Text

His post was quiet and he was faking being asleep as he readed the last results of the tests he ran last week. The picture taken on the microscope was a little different than what he was expecting it to be. The colonies were a little smaller than usual. He was already thinking about the next experiment with this substance. If this wasn't another false hope then he could tell Alphys already of something useful. Even then, he should contain his excitement, as till now he had not found anything of that matter, probably they would end up on the same hill again.

Something caught his attention. Further away into the forest the sound of something being dragged through the mud and steps crashing it down made him stay alert. He knew that it would hardly be caused by an outsider. Long ago they had reinforced the barrier and they had a guard disguised as a dummy waiting for every human. The world's travelers would not escape the vigilant gaze of Pyxis. It only could be the Naturetale inhabitants, even more, the steps were loud as they were made by a heavier body. A voice muttered orders in what they thought were a whisper (it wasn't).

He smiled. With a snap of his finger bones he was already in front of them. They didn't seem pleased, nor mortified enough. I meant that getting used to him robbed him of his dramatic entrance. They were honest enough to not try to hide the cargo of at least twelve sharpened sticks little Buttercup was dragging through the mud (Buttercup was smaller every time he got close to them). In his eyes they were still kids, well Buttercup was one for sure, but in just a moment Chara had grown to be way taller than him. But those eyes were raw yet, maybe it was him the one who had lived too much. He thought about Elderberry with his cane and his long white fur, or Gerson and his wrinkled skin, they were centuries older than him, and had seen the war in its highest point in a way his little research could never reach.

He shook his head and with a movement of his hand asked them to follow him. His magic made the pile of sticks rise from the ground but Buttercup did not let the rope go (they looked like they had the weirdest balloon floating above them). He knew from before the way that they were feeling, it was pretty obvious. Poppy had asked him why they were acting strange like that, they were his best friends after all, but they didn’t tell him (not even Lavender who was the secret’s guardian). They looked up all day at the holes in the barrier, seeing what the ones who had been outside could see in the way those blurry lines moved in the sun. Walking through the streets to look in the corners, maybe to find someone hiding in the dark. The dogs would find them in the outskirts, just near the glowing barrier, watching the star-filled sky through it.

They knew something was up. They were sharp ones. And he knew well who to blame for it. They were good friends of Thistle and he was not subtle about his preoccupations. He could not blame him, what they were facing was a lot and he was trying to make amends for a problem he hardly understood. The kids probably thought that a war was coming for them, that the outside finally was leaking to the underworld. For better or for worse he was stuck in the same place with the world up there as he was decades ago, and the thing too was unable to break the barrier (yet). But the kids didn’t know that. Growing there meant to be on the run at every second without anything to trust on. An enemy that hid where you least expected it, and the knowledge that everything was lost. At least he hoped to free them from those thoughts.

Now the kids were sitting in two chairs in one of his posts. The bigger one moved their legs uncomfortably as they were way too tall for that kind of furniture. Everything was Sans’ sized, even the roof hit them just entering the little building. Chara ended up deciding the floor was more comfortable and sat on the ground with their legs crossed. Buttercup on the other hand was happy with the height of the furniture as they didn't need to climb to reach anything. They frowned a little while moving both of their legs under the chair.

“So, Are you gonna explain what's happening, Lavender?”

“Are you going to explain why you were trying to build wooden spears in my territory?”

“You never patrol! You weren't supposed to find us!”

“That doesn't make it better for you if anything it makes it worse”

“....”

“You promise me that you will never take a weapon in your hands again. Do you wanna throw all these years to the garbage?”

“Something is happening… Thistle doesn't say anything, but he is scared. And if he is scared, all of us are in great danger. I promised that I would no longer fight for myself. I never said anything about not defending Naturetale. You cannot cage us for this. This is what you are doing? Am I wrong?”

The gentle kiss of the wind touched the tree bodies inside the little house. The birds didn't stop singing, nor did the sun stop shining. Inside, a jumping spider climbed the shelves where the succulents that Thistle had given Lavender a while ago didn't even ask for his answer. The ants had taken the space over the windowsill like an army. One behind the other searched for answers in the crumbs of a sandwich he had eaten hours ago. A moth took shelter in one of the corners. Silence kept having all the place between Lavender and the kids. He needed time, not excuses or lies to give each of them an answer. He had to think slowly and not rush himself into a dead end.

“ I will not do anything by force. Thought you, of all people, would understand that. I am afraid I cannot tell you much about what's happening at the moment, but if you are patient with me, I’ll give you the best with all I can.”

“You sound like a machine”

“That's what job and time does to you… I'm being serious. I will answer you. The last thing I want is for you two to try to find everything for yourselves. So you can hit me”

“Does it have to do with the outside world? Is that thing getting into Naturetale?”

“No, the things up are still a mess, and I am no closer to getting to an answer”

“We are doomed!.... It is about the other worlds? the places that only Thistle and that weird wooden friend of yours can access?”

“Sort of.”

“...Are we in danger?”

“.... We are doing everything so you are not”

“Just say yes….We are so, so doomed”

“Haven't we always?”

He smiled. He could not do more than a kind gesture. He knew that those two could sense the tension in his voice, so he didn't try to hide it. He should be the strongest one, with the kind of strength that an old rock has washed by a deep river without mercy. But that would mean he was getting closer and closer to breaking. Was he being too confident in himself? Maybe inside his head, mold had grown in the place of an invisible brain. He had never been such a good tactician, he was more of an instinct-based fighter. The kind of instinct that you can sense in the capricious movement of the wind. He waited and waited all the time, hoping that the little flies fell for his traps.

“Sorry… But it is ok. I will make sure you are ok. I know you are scared; I am, too. But we are not fighting alone. I have… friends now. People who can help.”

“We want to help too.”

“Not now.”

“You know we are strong! We survived UP THERE! We can deal with most of the monsters that live in Naturetale! You know that!”

“We received you in our community because we wanted you not to fight again. Never. You are too wounded… You are way too young, we should be the ones taking care of you. That’s what the old ones up there should have done. What kind of villains would we be if we just threw you at the first war Naturetale finds itself in? You don’t need to fight anymore. I will fix it”

The toot of a kettle pierced the air like a sting. He did not know the mix of herbs he had in those three little cups nor he cared for it; it would be a pleasant surprise in his mouth once he decided to drink. He used the excuse for turning away from the expecting kids and taking one minute to think for himself what to do. He should not have told them anything about the war, at least that’s what the queen wanted, and usually he was all about secrecy, but those two were different. Those eyes had already seen everything, and for all the ones he and the kingdom had failed to, they deserved to be treated as a little special.

“We are not a burden for you to solve.”

“Who said I’d not call you when things get messy? Just let this be on her highness terms. You are not a burden, you are dear to us.”

They looked at each other and Buttercup signed some things to Chara. In an agreement both of them faced Lavender again.

“We are helping you patrol while you are doing… whatever you are doing to solve this. You look tired”

The discussion was over before he could protest. They disappeared in the door frame like a breeze that passes by a willow tree. He smiled. He liked that about those two. Determination, was it? That pushing forwards no matter what, maybe the monsters needed more of that. He too needed some rest, and the more eyes searching the better (Daffodil would not let the kids face Nightmare or Fatal).

He undid the knot around the twigs and with his open hand made them float in the air and analyzed the trees they belonged to. He went to the back of his post to a little empty space between two trees and stabbed the ground with the twelve sticks. He breathed in and used a bigger amount of strength in a magic call that made them into little bushes.

“Sorry for making it a little hard for you. Couldn’t let those guys rotting around”

The day passed in a breeze with the kids reporting to him every so often about a pretty calm forest. One moment Rose tried to catch him sleeping when Buttercup was explaining their findings so he made them hide behind a convenient shaped bush that he had kept out of nostalgia. They laughed about it afterwards. He focused mostly on the findings on his lap, taking a lot of notes about them and what it could mean for his research.

The afternoon began and he hoped Fatal would wait for him a little longer as he had other matters to attend to. He put his research in one of his big pockets and let the guard dog that was taking the night shift enter the little shad. He wrote a note for his beloved visitor and closed his research center and waited in a little clearing with a lot of yellow daisies he could pick up. The portal opened and he jumped in it without thinking. Ink was waiting with one skeleton. He asked himself why he had known so many of them in that short of a time. He had grown used to the fear of meeting someone who just looks like you but not enough, like entering a town of your own clones.

“So you are Lavender…”

A color changing flame shone in the dark of the little kitchen where they were meeting. Even in the situation they were in he just smiled as if he had no fear. That man had seen a lot more than he could put into words.

“I usually go by Lav.”

“Well, Lav, I heard that you are in the same love predicament that I am. Hope that makes us good friends”

Another cup of tea was waiting for them on the table.

Chapter Text

War sometimes looked just like that: quiet nights with a nice dinner in a well lighted room. He felt like a monster for being on that side of the fight, but he knew he could not deal with the gruesome ways of physical fights. For him everyone should be just like that, using words and kindness (and a little malice) to make good things happen. The skeleton at the other side of the table did not think like him. He had been wounded by a world that asks you to keep doing, to not rest just to survive, just to see a smile on your loved ones. Maybe that was why he was so dubious when he heard what he had to say.

The name was Color, and he had seen a lot of bad things in his life. He was not so happy to tell him all about his disgraces, but even if he didn’t ask, it was obvious that there was a necessity to fill the blank spaces in the image that Lavender needed to build to trust him. On the other hand it seemed like Lavender’s image didn’t come as clear as Color would want to. He tried to ask, but inside him he knew he didn't want to find all about the perfect life of someone else. That hurt way too much.

The tea grew cold in his hands. He was over cautious with everything as he had just walked in one of the biggest problems of his life just a couple of months ago, and thought everything could be a trap at that moment. Kind soft things were just the thing you expect the enemy to use against you. For him Lavender was suspicious in so many ways, but he wanted to trust. A little part of him wanted to embrace that dream of low confrontation to stop another way in which the world had turned cruel to passerbys.

The place in which he was in was nothing but a dream come to life. The light touched him with some kind of love, shining in a deep shade of orange as the day died. He was hit with a thousand of smells that, in a curious turn, were not as sticking and sharp as one would expect. The temperature was just right. He had never realized the tension of the cold or heat of the air around him till he found himself there. Well to be truthful he had to adjust to the piercing cold of the abyss he had been thrown to.

But all those things, so weirdly perfect, were not the ones making his spine shiver. It was his own body. The hands gripped the cup eagerly, and he had to focus just to not drift away. His mind told him that he was in a room with an unknown skeleton discussing war, but his body had just found the place he wanted to belong to. “He would love it here” The thought almost hurts. That's why he kept trying to have that conversation, for him. He knew pretty well that the way they had been fighting just made Nightmare stronger. That was their weakness. And Lavender had put in the table an structured plan to Dream’s vision.

It all would be way easier if Lavender just talked more. The dude seemed so perfectly comfortable in his own skin, it was almost disturbing. But he could see something boiling under the superficial layer of his bone. He needed to trust him, to find that little nerve that kept Lavender on the edge in that way. Just knowing each other's weaknesses he could be sure enough to form an alliance.

He already knew the man had his universe on the focal point of one of Nightmare’s tentacles. That was a big thing, he knew that for sure, but it wasn’t enough. He could sense a deep shade of guilt clouding his eyes. He needed to know more about that. It’s not good to have such a weakness and hide it away from his own teammates. He had to bare his soul to him just to find a table with him, it was just fair enough to have him do the same for him.
If he told the truth he felt like Lavender was begging for a chance with him. It was a weird mix of pleading to let him save him and asking to be saved himself. He was desperate, but did not know how to act like it. He could say the same for himself. Every other skeleton he had known had the same problem with asking for help. They had been trained out of the comfortable vulnerability every being needs to function properly in society. But it was this moment, when all of them knew they were in the same place, the perfect time to learn the skill back.

“You got all my attention. Truly. But I feel that you are not asking from me all that you want. And if I want to ask all I have to ask for in the first place I need you to be open for me.”

“You say that as if it was that easy. I have some things in my mind. That’s for sure. But we can talk about it later.”

“How long have you postponed that thing that is bothering you? It’s not healthy, its like you have this big burden on your shoulders that you cannot lift by yourself anymore. I had to let go of that stupid thing of not talking to anyone before I could become at least useful. That's our own weakness. Now, Come on! Spill the beans!”

“When you talk like that it seems like you are really into something.”

He laughed but the smile didn't reach his eyes. He was looking towards a point behind Color that was way too far to be seen. He remained quiet for a while, more like remembering than to ask himself if he was willing to tell. Color had time to think of how old they really were. Dealing with human kids that grow in just a matter of years makes a monster think their own life is way longer than it should be. When you live for that long you start to ponder for longer periods of time like all your life is about making sense of the memories you have collected.

Weirdly enough, he felt the opposite at the same time. One part of him refused to believe that all that time had passed. Adulting had been a weird thing for both of them. A limbo between knowing but mostly not knowing exactly what to do. He had played that game before: the game of being the one in charge. Everyone started to turn their heads towards him and ask with pleading eyes what should be done next. Even himself did that in the mirror when he started to study the timelines to save his universe. He could only rest when he was trapped in the endless void. But that didn't last as long as he had expected.

Whatever Lavender's position on the spectrum of too old/too young for dealing with this mess was, it took a while for him to start. It seemed that he usually did that. He was not there or maybe he was way too there till the thoughtful stream of words came softly in a voice so calm that felt like a whisper even if said out loud.

“You see this place… Isn't it beautiful? It reminds me of the place back home. Would you join me for a stroll?”

“If that makes you talk…”

The air outside was fresh. Just on the outskirts of an old forest and under a white big sky, the world seemed both enchanting and disturbing. He felt like back in the void again, but a nice version of the place. Lavender just went to the forest without thinking as that was just what he often did. All this thing of new complex universes didn't help the mind of a monster that was used to the same old corners of a tiny underworld. He would lie if he said that the big white sky didn't disturb him. He had grown under a piece of rock and magic barriers, so the freedom of an endless view was something strange and frightening. A part of him thought that he could never deserve something like that, and another part, more in tune with his experiences, saw that emptiness as a threat.

He usually didn’t talk as much about that part of him, but he was connected to deers in his heart. He had always been a prey animal, that’s what made him a perfect protector. He had nothing against predators in nature: the world knows how much nature needs them, but he could never relate to them. The power rush in the boiling blood, the bottomless hunger, and the passion of hunting, how could he understand those feelings? Instead he could relate to the fear of everything fading, to the impulse to protect your loved ones, and the bravery of knowing you can overcome those who hunt.

All that meant that he was not comfortable at all exposed to the outdoors. For a long time, even before his own birth, monsters had learnt that the ceiling on top of them meant protection. They used to tell the kids that life was possible thanks to the barrier that filtered water and sunlight. He could understand the fear of being trapped that some humans felt when they had to see the rock over their heads at all times, but he could never feel the same.

That’s why he had to run into the forest as soon as he got outside the little shack Core Frisk had kindly given to him to hold his meetings. The truth was that he needed some fresh air as he felt his temper shattered under the weight of someone who knows him too well because he knows himself. He feared because for the first time in his life he felt like he needed to talk to someone. He could not forgive himself if he spilled all his universe’s secrets. But a voice in his head told him quietly “Maybe they have a way to fix it”. And then strongly “Are you selfish enough to try to get all the credit”. He hadn't decided yet if the voices were going to win.

The shade under the forest felt just like the one back home. He closed his eyes and tried to connect with the life of the trees. Nature responded with an echo he could not pinpoint when it came from. It seemed wise in its own way, but in a non temporal way. It was almost as if it had always existed but at the same time it was born the day before. The forest was wary of him as he carried that strong scent of something distant and a sorrow that could destroy them all. But it wasn’t overly aggressive towards him as it was used to find strangers walking under its twigs.

“I have already told everything to the Star crew.” He started without looking at Color. “Well, I’ve told them the important parts in some way… But as you say I need more help than what I’ve been asking from you. I kept telling myself that when all the war is over, I will be able to reach out and solve my universe's problems. But that’s a dumb way of getting stuck in the same old problem. And this problem, my friend, is taking lives as we talk, so I should not be so shy in my approaches to solve it.

“As I told you before, you and I have something in common pulling us into the war. It kind of happens when you find those souls that are so beautifully wounded, and you know you can't give up, even if they themselves can be cruel and dangerous. His name is Fatal, and he honors his name just as much as your Killer. But that’s the reason we want to redeem them. I don’t know yet why exactly is tying me so close to him, but I’m not the one to refuse a hand that has extended itself in search of help, nor you. That’s why I need you so much, because you understand the path I want to walk in a way few people can do.

“But my main secret is not Fatal, nor the war that’s ongoing all over the place. That does keep me awake at night, and I fear deeply that I'm gonna lose my whole world in an instant or that we will be trapped in pain and suffering if I do not do anything. But my way of worrying about the present is about doing something everyday to fix things in an endurance trial that I know I can win.

“And I’m so sure of it because I've played a similar game before. All my life walking towards a goal so out of my reach that sometimes I see the negative outcome right on my face. And, what is worse, that problem has made me do things that come with the blame of what should not be done. Some people think that I act like I am better than everyone else. But I’m not. I actually consider myself as a bad person, because I do what’s necessary in order to serve the big picture. I can’t say that I have killed anyone. At least not directly. I know that what I do is vital, not only for me or the monsters in Naturetale, but for the world above and those souls trapped in so much pain.

“Today I don’t have any plans so I can tell you the whole picture and you will tell me if I’m at fault or if you have a way to help me in this predicament. This problem is not new and is older than myself by many years. This first part of the story is just as I remember from the voices of the elders of Naturetale, who would never stop talking about those strange years. But some parts are even older, and you can only read about them in the old library of the city. It’s a broken story, patched many times by our defective memory and I want you to take that into account.

“When my universe was created, we were the first to exist. From the ashes of our first kind the plants of the earth were born, and to eat those plants the animals appeared. If we were sentient bodies from the vegetal world, humans would be raised as the heads of the animal domain. At first our relationship was a sign of the perfect balance of the world. Humans taught us how to think about the cause and effect of things, and how to cultivate food rather than just grow food with our power. At least some humans did.

“For a long time monsters thought that everything was all right with humans, and for most humans that was true, but there’s a thing inside those brains, an impulse that their intellect cannot control, even more, that makes their intellect excited, active like never before and equally dangerous. They are ambitious, hungry for knowledge, and more than knowledge, power. It’s natural for a living being to be so fierce about surviving. Sometimes that desperation about living turns into acts that harm themselves and nature.

“Monsters had to intervene when humans grew obsessed with agriculture. The calm nature of their first crops turned into a devastation of deforestation. They barely heard them back then. But monsters grew soft to their hunger of knowledge, and they themselves learned the arts of science soon enough. If monsters were powerful with their magic, humans were fast thinking creatures that could outsmarted them with words. So monsters let monocultures appear because of the economy, and let their cities grow over old forests because poor people need that. They let vapor machines come to be and the air got polluted. They let them contaminate the water of big and fresh rivers. All because that seemed somehow right for a moment.

“Well… It wasn’t for long. We can feel the energy of the living and we felt what they were doing. Monsters started to talk to them to stop the damage, but only a few listened. Our methods were slow, too slow for the destruction of the humans. As we became a bother the humans turned sour towards us, and became using force, not only on our discourse but on our bodies.

“When we are young we receive our first flower crown from the powers earth has given us. It’s a beautiful ceremony in which we connect with our nature and learn the basics of what it means to be a monster. On that day we do our more important pledge: to never kill, to never harm, and to protect life. I haven’t met a monster that doesn’t feel strongly when the pledge is mentioned. For our kind that is a sacred vow that we cannot break. So you can only imagine how that fight started to look.

“The deaths of our kind multiplied. The funerals were a constant occurrence and the plants that grew from our ashes died soon in the poisoned soil. As the tears grew some of us changed. I wish I was a better monster, because when I hear the story I kind of understand what they did. Just how much pain you must feel to betray yourself and all you hold dear just to hope you can see your loved ones again? Most of us would do anything just to see the smile on someone's face again. Can I blame them?

“Don’t look at me like that! I still think I can end this war without violence. The fact that I can understand the actions of someone who falls in despair doesn’t mean that I don’t hate their actions, what it only means is that I feel compassion for their feelings. What I really think is that we were weak in our pursuit of no-violence. Pacifism isn't no action, the contrary: it means the most actions, to act once and again with resolution. If a “pacifist” doesn’t move in front of injustice then it isn’t real pacifism. You have to build peace, not wait for it to appear only because you are not the one doing the violence.

“That way there were deaths on both sides. Well… not exactly, monsters died en masse and “good” humans sacrificed their lives all the time to stop the madness. Meanwhile once in a while some human would be killed. Either way monsters were divided into three groups: those who killed to protect, those who died to protect, and those who hid to stay alive.

“We were resilient. Centuries passed by but we only grew weaker. I like to think that the monsters back then knew that their work wasn’t for nothing, but it was. With every move of the humans nature was wounded even more deeply and seeing the destruction of what she considered sacred and us, her warriors, failed the test. One day she could not tolerate it anymore.

“I usually stop at this part of the story, even more if I am with the kids. Most people in Nature tale don't even know this part or don’t dimension the scale of what this means. The official story says that humans polluted the earth so much that life on it was practically impossible to sustain, so monsters took a sample of nature and took her into the underground to save her, and that’s how Nature tale came to be.

“That isn’t a lie. At the point monsters decided to lock themselves in the underground, humans had destroyed almost all water sources, the planet was so hot there was no more ice but some places suffered big snow storms that did not let any life exist, the sea had more plastic than fish, and the extensive agriculture had let the soil barren. Humans breathed their last breath. And, since we had the power to grow food by ourselves, some humans hunted us to enslave us. Even if this was all we would have no other reason than to surrender.”

Lavender trembled a little in expectation of the next part of the story.

“But there was more. I told you that nature was angry. She has never been a soft being. She's strong and her anger is as big as heaven. Vengeance is not out of her realm. We tried to warm humans about it but, to be truthful at that point there was nothing they could do to save themselves. But they thought that she couldn't act, that she was nothing but a source without mind. She had waited and waited for humans to understand, for us to make everything right. But we failed and she took the matter in her own hands.

“At first we all thought it was something normal. Diseases were everyday occurrences. Most humans had lost someone to some kind of pest. Even us had been struck with our own plagues (my brother Thistle has a terminal plant disease). But that was just the start of her punishment for us. I now know that is some kind of neurological affection that is transmitted by contact of any kind and it's probably by a prion that Nature bended herself. It starts like Familial insomnia disease, and it's heavy on the psicosis, particularly delusions and paranoia. The patient loses gradually the ability of controlling their own actions and becomes a puppet of neurological despair

“The surface is filled with sick people. But alive people, we don't have mindless beasts that are too far gone, we have people who are scared and are unable to understand what's happening. Even that makes them more dangerous, they feel attacked and most of the time they are (humans hunt infected people) so they can attack anyone “back” to protect themselves. They get wounded and their bodies surrender to the control of the prion. They have spasms, hallucinations and trembles. They have almost no hunger most of the time but have sudden waves of violence in which they hurt everyone. Not even more infected ones can survive against them as they kill each other all the time.

“With every year that passes nature claims more and more of their bodies. She makes them live with viruses, bacteria and fungi. She let her plants open their flesh. They are sick and wounded. Some humans call them treemen. Their skin is thick as wood and it bleeds when they move. Their bite kills by infection or turn you into one of them…well almost anything can turn you into one of them.

“Us, monsters, are not free of the curse. Some of us have already fallen into it. That's why we hid in Naturetale, to save what we can of earth before she takes her rage on us. Guess we can't blame her as we failed as her guardians. But it hurts so much seeing them suffer and knowing she did all of that on purpose, to deliberately hurt us. Peace is not natural, you see, not even for plant monsters. We all decided to be peaceful, despite what our world really is.”

He closed his eyes and sat by a tree.

“We know that if we don't find a way to fix our world she is gonna end all life on earth and start again. I was born with that purpose so long ago, when monsters started to feel the weight of containment. All my life I've been trying to find a way out but with each decade that passes another human falls. Some are fine, but most are infected. And I must investigate them to find a way out. Even then, I have nothing.

“So… to answer your question about what I really want I guess I want help with the prion. I know you are scientists, but you are no experts on biology. I have been dreaming since the moment I knew about the Underverse that one of you could look at this from another perspective. Maybe then my universe would not be destroyed from within”

Color finally understood why he was so calm in the face of destruction. He had already knew everything about despair, he was just fighting in his own way. A smile appeared on Color's face.

“Do you know about resets and determination? Because I don't know anything about biology, but I know everything about those things.”