Chapter Text
Darkness.
Clover had many thoughts on darkness. It was the unchanging abyss, hiding the monsters from your sight. The welcome cold at the end of the day.
It was what surrounded him now.
Clover couldn’t see anything ahead. As a matter of fact, he couldn’t see anything at all. He’d been reduced to nothing but a soul, courtesy of Ceroba’s mysterious soul container. There was nothing to see, nothing to know, nothing to feel, to hear.
If he didn’t know any better, he’d think this was some sort of hell.
But Clover persisted. Maybe it was of some sense that he could one day see what his sacrifice had brought. Or perhaps he harbored a small hope that one day, he might return.
Clover knew the real reason he carried on, even as a shapeless soul.
Oblivion terrified him.
Not that he regretted his actions in the slightest. Even if it put him exactly back into this spot, he would redo his entire journey underground the exact same way. This was the only path to a true happy ending for monsterkind.
With that said, he clung to this half life with a fervor that surprised him. ‘What’s left? What am I waiting for?’ he thought. And prepared to let go, to embrace his eternal sleep.
No one ever said Justice was brave, though. He just couldn’t make that final step.
And so here he was.
All alone.
With only his thoughts for company.
How long had it been? Days? Weeks? Months? Years?
… Centuries?
He didn’t really want to know.
With nothing else to do, he pondered the friends he’d made, and thought about what they might be doing. Dalv, surely, would’ve begun working on that children’s series that Clover caught a peek of in his old house. After Penilla offered her help, Clover could imagine the duo creating something lasting that would entertain and distract many children from the bleak circumstances they were born into.
Maybe something Dalv wrote and illustrated would even make it to the surface someday, and reach children across the world. Clover enjoyed the thought, savoring it hungrily for a moment, before letting his mind wander on.
Martlet must have gotten some sort of promotion for… bringing them in. The bird, however clumsy she was, had a heart of gold that could only do amazing things for the rest of monsterkind, like… creating new puzzles! Or, or, delivering… something.
Come to think of it, was that all Martlet did before? Create and maintain puzzles? Clover couldn’t believe that was all Martlet did, there had to be something else. But whatever it was, they couldn’t think of it.
Perhaps Martlet would find another human.
… Clover hoped that she wouldn’t have to find another human.
Martlet’s optimism was a powerful force, capable of moving them even in their darkest moments. Clover hoped that the whole adventure hadn’t broken that optimism. He had a feeling that Martlet was yet destined for greater things than bringing human children to Asgore or hiding them away.
Starlo would’ve gone back to the posse and begun leading with true dignity and respect. There was something new and different in his eyes as he walked away from Clover that day. Well, yes, tears, but something else as well. A newfound resolve, Clover thought. A determination to lead with justice and equality.
Perhaps Clover might’ve made a larger impact with the monster than he’d initially realized.
Ceroba… Clover honestly had no idea what she would do. Track down her missing daughter? Or simply… move on? He hoped so. Starlo might pull her out of her misery, maybe make her join his posse just to get her to do something.
He entertained that thought for a moment. Sheriff Ceroba. Protector of justice, lasso wielder extraordinaire. Clover found the thought equal parts hilarious, unrealistic, and heartwarming. He hoped that was what Ceroba was doing. It was much better than her wallowing with sorrow in the bar, drinking away her misery, as well as the loss of her husband and daughter.
Clover’s soul ached with despondency. They’d probably joined her depressing list.
And then there was… Flowey.
Despite spending the most time with the flower out of anyone else underground, perhaps even combined, Clover legitimately had no clue what Flowey could be doing. It was only in retrospect that he realized that the sarcastic plant barely talked about himself. There was his strange fixation with Asgore, his morbid sense of humor, and his constant impatience, yes, but that was all just surface level.
Flowey was a common subject for Clover to ponder in his new darkness-filled existence. There always seemed to be new layers to peel off with that flower.
On the one hand, Flowey had been their constant companion, guide, and friend from the beginning. The snarky little creature had saved his life so many times, Clover couldn’t even begin to count. He owed him a massive debt that he couldn’t even begin to repay, and felt nothing but gratitude for his friend. And despite the flower’s mocking speech as Clover struggled to stay conscious, soulless… Clover detected no dishonesty when Flowey called him a friend.
It had been what he needed to hear at the time. To know that he’d made an impact on someone as jaded as Flowey… it gave him peace.
On the other hand, there were some things that bugged him.
In that final mocking speech, he’d mentioned resetting it all back to the beginning. Could Flowey do that? Or, more importantly, had he already done that? Surely not, as whenever Flowey brought him back to a “save point,” he still remembered what killed him. Much to his retroactive horror.
But what if this “reset” was different?
What if Flowey had sent him back to the beginning before, and Clover had done something different? They could think of more than a few moments where they weren’t sure what to do, and easily could’ve picked a different choice. Starlo had terrified them, and they easily could’ve resorted to self-defense. And Axis was too much of a threat to risk keeping around, in his opinion. If Ceroba hadn’t been there, who knew what he could’ve done there?
He was this close to putting down Ceroba herself for good. A decision he would’ve instantly regretted, he was sure, but… well.
And if he thought longer about what could’ve happened, his mind would go to darker and darker places. Martlet had just been doing her job, but what if he’d fought back? And Dalv, he seemed completely removed from the situation, unable to see who was really in front of him during their battle. Clover could see the life where he struck the vampire monster down.
Thinking back to the beginning, he really wasn’t proud of his thoughts upon seeing a Flier for the first time. What if he… actually… followed through?
Clover shut down that train of thought immediately. They would never do that. It was just an intrusive thought at the time, nothing more. How could a Flier have been responsible for the other five humans?
Flowey returned to their head.
What if he’d actually… followed through on those initial thoughts?
If he concentrated extremely hard, he could vividly imagine Axis being struck down. Or having a hole blown through their entire body. He could see Starlo telling him to let his parents know that the sheriff would be gone for a while. Or being gunned down in cold blood.
Clover didn’t like that he could imagine these scenarios so vividly. At all.
And another thing: how did Flowey even have that power? There wasn’t anything else in the underground with abilities even close to that. What made the flora so special? Now that he thought of it, Flowey never showed himself to anybody else, with the exception of that one time at the hot springs. Clover internally chuckled at the thought of Flowey giving up his secrecy for hot water in Snowdin. He supposed there were worse things to bend your principles for.
But what were Flowey’s principles? Clover had the oddest feeling that the flower wouldn’t have batted an eye if he’d killed a monster. Or two. Or more…
He stopped thinking about it.
So while Clover would be more than happy to meet Flowey again some day, if he ever got out of this hellscape, he’d have a lot of questions for the flower.
Other monsters crossed Clover’s mind as well, with standouts being the Posse, Mo, and Axis if they really felt like it, but their mind fixated on those first five.
Dalv. Martlet. Starlo. Ceroba.
Flowey.
And so, Clover pondered.
And pondered.
Isolated.
Alone.
Until he wasn’t.