#circuitbr8ker

The loud gasp that escaped Aeris had been worth tagging along for, Sans thought. It made her cough a little, though. She stopped after a moment, waving off Asgore’s concerned questions and Frisk’s worried look, choosing instead to step out into Asgore’s backyard.

It was still very much winter out here, but one wouldn’t know it, judging by the multicolored blooms that were bursting from the ground in the large backyard. Flowers of every shape, size, type, and color littered the landscape, and Sans watched as Aeris took it all in, a dazed look on her face.

“How is this possible?” She asked, breathless with awe. Asgore chuckled at her expression.

“With just a little bit of magic, young lady,” he replied with an insider’s wink. “And lots of TLC as well, of course.”

Sans watched as Aeris reached out, fingertips brushing against the shape of a nearby red rose. The bush seemed to crave her touch; the flowers all turned in her direction, blossoming brilliantly. She knelt down, inhaling the aroma, a peaceful smile on her face.

“Your garden is beautiful,” she complimented Asgore, and he beamed at her.

Frisk ran forward, carrying two sloshing watering cans. Aeris accepted one from him, and together, they made their way around the garden, watering the flowers as Asgore lumbered away to his lawn mower, apparently determined to give the grass a good trim. Sans stood back, watching Aeris and Frisk as they fed the plants. Frisk, mischievous child that they were, sprinkled some water down the back of Aeris’ shirt when she knelt down to water the begonias. Her surprised shriek echoed through the garden, and Sans grinned as she chased Frisk with her own watering can, sprinkling their head with water and warning them that daisies were currently sprouting from their hair.

Shaking his bony head, the skeleton left them to their fun, taking a path through the garden that was overgrown, due to disuse. Odd, since Sans knew that this path had to be trampled by the ex-king every day…but he knew better than to trust magical vines. Indeed, sensing his intent, they cleared the way for him, drawing back into the shadows of the large trees that lined the path, returning to their lounging only when he passed.

None of the brightness of the main garden penetrated the shadows here. It was quiet and gloomy, almost ominous. Sans ignored the shadows, following the twisting path all the way to the end, where a small, plain, brick square awaited. In a large flower pot in the center, a large flower was planted. It had golden petals, a long stem, and a face that was deceptively friendly. When it saw Sans, however, its friendly face dropped, to be replaced with a sour look.

“Oh. It’s you,” the flower grumbled in a high-pitched voice, not bothering to hide its displeasure. “What’re you doing here? Honestly, if I have to see a bonehead, I’d rather it be your brother. He knows how to appreciate me.”

Sans ignored the flower’s jibes. It was just bitter about being stuck in a pot all the time.

“I’m sure Papyrus will visit soon,” he assured the flower, grinning in a menacing way, “but for today, you get me. Don’t worry, I’m not staying long. Just making sure you’re behaving.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I can get into sooo much trouble like this,” Flowey spat, baring its teeth at Sans. “Stuck here in this pot, unable to move and see the rest of the surface world…if it weren’t for me, none of you would be up here either! But do I get any respect? NO! I get imprisoned in a magic flower pot that keeps me from going anywhere! It isn’t fair!”

Sans felt the light in his left eye begin to flare. Talking to this flower pissed him off; he had never met such an uppity creature before. He thought about turning around and leaving the damn plant to its tantrum, but he heard vines shift aside behind him and turned around.

Frisk and Aeris were there; Frisk had Aeris by the hand, and was leading her forward.

“Kid—” Sans began, eyeing Aeris, because he didn’t think it was a good idea for her to be back here, but—

“Well, if it isn’t my old buddy, Frisk!” Flowey cheered, its face changing immediately to its misleading friendly demeanor. “Come on over, pal! Who’s your pretty friend there?”

“This is Aeris,” Frisk replied before Sans could stop him, and the skeleton felt a twitch of unease, though he didn’t see how Flowey could cause trouble just by knowing Aeris’ name…

“Hello, Aeris! I’m Flowey! Flowey the flower!” The flower greeted, extending one of its leaves, as if to shake Aeris’ hand. Aeris stared at it in response.

“…The flower’s talking,” she said to no one in particular, silver eyes fixed on the golden plant. Despite himself, Sans couldn’t help but chuckle. Aeris had met talking skeletons, a fish lady, and two goat people in the span of three days, but a talking flower was what really got her goat. Ha… ‘got her goat’. He still had it.

“Don’t worry,” he spoke, shrugging with his hand in his pockets, “it doesn’t really have much to say.”

Flowey gave Sans an annoyed look, but when Aeris turned back to the flower, it fixed its expression once again.

“Are you being good?” Frisk asked, and Flowey couldn’t help but frown at that. Sans reflected silently that Flowey should be grateful to Frisk—if it were up to him, the flower wouldn’t even be here. If Frisk hadn’t begged and pleaded, promising they would watch over the flower themselves…that flower would be dead. Sans would’ve made sure of it.

“Of course, pal!” Flowey replied, its smile looking strained now. “Not much trouble for me to get into up here, is there?”

“…You sound bitter about that,” Aeris noted. Sans glanced over at her, wondering just how much of this she was really seeing. And then he wondered if he was comfortable with her seeing through Flowey the way she saw through him.

Flowey’s expression became sarcastic. “Bitter? Oh no, no, I’m not bitter. It’s just that my existence is meaningless here. I could be out doing something useful…conquering worlds…becoming a god…but will certain people cooperate? Nooooo…”

Frisk shifted, looking uncomfortable. Sans clenched his teeth, but Flowey kept going.

“And yet, ‘certain people’ thought it was a good idea to bring me up here, trapped in this flower pot forever. Do you really think this will help me change? Do you really think I’ll learn my lesson here…?”

Frisk flinched, shifting back. Flowey’s expression had become demonic, and it wriggled on its stem, as if it ached to lash out and attack.

“My philosophy hasn’t changed. Even the humans up here know that it’s kill or be killed. They kill each other every day. Murders, school shootings, terrorist attacks—more and more, every day, the bodies pile up. And it’s never going to stop! It’s just a never-ending game, just like before! I love it!”

He cackled in a truly terrifying way. Sans stepped forward, blue fire glowing in his left hand, the light in his eye flaring in response. He’d had just about enough of this goddamn flower. Frisk would be upset, but there was no way Sans could let himself be swayed any longer. The flower said so itself—it hadn’t learned anything. It wouldn’t learn anything. And it was better off dead.

Just as Sans raised his arm, however, the flower’s cackling cut off, becoming a yelp of pain. Sans stared, admittedly dumbstruck.

Aeris had one of the flower’s petals gripped in between her thumb and forefinger. She gave a tug, and Flowey flinched.

“Hey! What’re you doing? Stop that! Let go!” The flower protested, but it seemed that it dared not to lean in the other direction, or the hostage petal would part company with its face. Sans looked at Aeris’ profile, startled to find that her expression was as frosty as the wind outside. She gave another tug, and Flowey squealed in protest.

“Life is not a game, you sick, twisted weed,” she hissed at him, giving the flower petal another tug. Flowey winced and whimpered, looking almost pitiable. Almost. “Life is a fight for survival. It’s not a ‘kill or be killed’ situation—it’s a free-for-all. Life here is so much more chaotic than you could ever imagine. So if I were you, I’d be grateful for this pot you’re stuck in, because if you had to live out in the real world, you wouldn’t last two seconds.”

She finally released the petal. Flowey glared at her, rubbing its ripped petal, but she had gotten up and stomped away, the vines hastily clearing out of the way for her. Frisk dithered on the spot, looking troubled; they appeared to want to help Flowey, but they didn’t want Aeris being by herself either. Sans thought about it, then nodded, ruffling Frisk’s hair.

“Don’t worry about it, kid. Go get Asgore—he’ll help you help the weed.”

“But Aeris—”

“I’ll take care of her,” Sans promised. Frisk hovered for one more second, indecisive, but Sans gave them a thumbs up. Their face set with determination (of course), Frisk ran off to find Asgore. Sans glanced back at Flowey. Idly, the thought of killing it once and for all crossed his mind once again…but he ultimately decided against it. For now.

Besides, watching the flower be humiliated by Aeris was satisfying in its own right. ‘Sick, twisted weed’…Sans would have to remember that one.

The skeleton found the human near the rose bush that she’d touched when they first entered Asgore’s garden. She was crouched in front of the roses, and they were turned towards her again, yearning for her as if she was the sun. In the distance, Sans could see Frisk getting Asgore’s attention, the ex-king cutting off his large mower with a look of concern on his large goat face.

Sans sat down next to Aeris, his back to the roses. He grinned lazily, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “So. I take it you didn’t appreciate what the evil flower had to say back there.”

Aeris didn’t respond. She coughed instead, that hacking cough Sans began to recognize. Sure enough, when she pulled back the hand she had pressed to her mouth, blood was in her palm once again. Sans regarded it grimly, and then looked away.

“…So it’s true.” He glanced over at Aeris from the corner of his eye sockets. “You’re dying.”

Aeris closed her hand. It was shaking, but her voice was quite steady when she responded, “Yes.”

“Then last night, when I found you…you were planning to jump.”

“No.” A pause. A soft, hesitant sigh. “…Maybe. I was thinking about it.”

“I told you, you can’t think about it. Otherwise you just end up thinking about it instead of just doing it.”

“I was thinking about it,” Aeris said, her tone growing forceful, “but I wasn’t going to do it, in the end.”

Now this was curious.

“Why not?” Sans shrugged, failing to see the problem. “You’re dying anyway. If you jumped, it would’ve been quick. Why suffer like this?”

Aeris turned to look at Sans. His lazy grin dropped when he saw something unexpected—her eyes were filled with tears.

“…Because I don’t want to die,” she snapped, frowning at him as a river of tears began to cascade down her cheeks. “I want to live. Is that so wrong? To want to keep my life, no matter how meaningless it is? Even if it would be easier to just end it—to just pass out in the snow or jump off a cliff—is it wrong of me to want to keep living? Is it selfish? Am I a bad person because I want to live so badly?”

Sans didn’t have a response ready for that. He supposed he spoke without thinking, saying that Aeris just should’ve died when she had the opportunity. He had made the assumption that she had already given up, that she had accepted her fate…but he was wrong. Aeris wasn’t giving up. She wanted to cling to what she had left of her life, no matter how short a time that might be. Her will to live hadn’t diminished in the slightest.

Human determination sure was something.

Aeris turned away from him. Sans sat there, listening to her sniffle, the fabric of her shirt ruffling as she dried her eyes. He could think of no way to comfort her. Silence passed between them for a while.

Finally, with one more sniffle, Aeris stood up. She looked paler than usual, but she stood straight and strong. She glanced down at Sans, and then away. Color flooded her cheeks.

“…Sorry. I didn’t want you to see me like that,” she apologized.

Sans blinked at that. Huh…was she embarrassed about the crying? Or her confession of wanting to live?

“I didn’t mind,” he admitted, climbing to his feet. If anything, it was a useful insight into the way Aeris thought. He was one step closer to unraveling how she ticked…though, admittedly, it seemed as if he still had a long way to go. “Sorry for, er, telling you to just get it over with.”

Aeris snorted at that. It was good to hear her laugh. “Yeah, that was so rude. Do you really want me dead that much?”

Sans grinned, about to comeback with something snarky. But then he looked up at Aeris, at her slight smile and shining silver eyes…and the retort got lost somewhere on the way to his mouth.

“Not at all,” he admitted, surprising himself with how truthful he sounded. It looked as if he surprised her, too: Aeris’ smile faltered, and pink bloomed in her cheeks once again. She looked away, clearing her throat and looking uncertain.

“Well…thanks,” she said somewhat awkwardly. Sans shrugged it off, though he felt awkward, too.

“Don’t mention it.” ‘Seriously, don’t.’