TFP: The Archivist- 9 (Rewritten) Frenzy woke up. He got up off of the berth, rubbing his optics. He had a massive processor ache, and was tempted to lay back down again, but. . . Rumble. He needed to see if Rumble was okay.
He walked to the medbay, conscious of the many stares he got from the Vehicons. News would be all over the ship by now that he had lost his temper in front of the commander.
He sighed and entered the door, not expecting any response when-
"There you are, Frenzy! Geez, I was wondering when you would finally come to see me."
Frenzy looked up onto the medical berth to find Rumble leaning over the edge.
"Get back on the berth before you fall off!" Frenzy chuckled.
"Well come on up. There's plenty of room up here." Rumble replied and pushed himself back from the edge.
Frenzy ran forward and launched himself at the berth, grabbing a small ledge and pulling himself quickly to the top. It wasn't the mos
TFP: The Archivist- 8 (Rewritten)Rumble awoke. His arm ached with all the fury of Unicron.
He slowly blinked and sat up. He looked around the Medbay. There was no one there besides himself. All the computers were off, and an empty silence hung in the room, only interrupted by the beat of a spark monitor.
He flinched as the door to the Medbay opened. Knockout came through in stasis cuffs, alongside Arcee. The two froze when they saw that he was awake.
Rumble raised an eyebrow. "Knockout? How did you get here? Why are you in cuffs?"
Arcee ignored the comment and quickly undid the stasis cuffs on Knockout's wrists. The medic rubbed the spot where the cuffs had lay tenderly. He then began checking equipment.
"From what I remembered, you weren't so quiet." Rumble pushed on. "What's going on?"
Knockout quickly motioned for the Minicon to shut up.
"Why can't I talk? Why can't you talk? What's going on?!" Rumble repeated.
"Nothing is going on. H
A/N: Just a side note before you begin reading, the reader is a six year old girl that has a high interest in nature. So of course trying to be friends with a TALKING FLOWER would be a dream come true. Anywho, I feel like Flowey is a bit OOC, so I apologize in advance for that.
Flowey was perched on the window window sill at the moment, and Asgore was out shopping and what not this winter day. Leaving Flowey alone in the Dreemur house on the surface. Which was how he usually liked it, if he wasn’t feeling like trash. His petals and head felt hot, and he figured he had a fever. Despite this, he found himself shivering as his flower body was freezing despite the heat. Outside it was snowing hard, and if the winds picked up any further it would be considered a blizzard.
Usually Flowey would laugh every time a human was pushed over by the wind, or slipped on the ice. But right now, he covered his mouth by one of his vines and coughed painfully. He groaned as his petals drooped down and he felt dizzy. Glancing over at the clock, it read 12:50. Toriel and that smiley trashbag would probably be back soon from the school if they let out early. Then he groaned again when he realized that (y/n) would be coming over today. She was going to see him like this...It was embarrassing enough to be sick…
Speak of the devils, Toriel had indeed come home early due to the blizzard cancelling out the rest of the school day. Flowey could feel the wind rush in when Toriel had opened the door, and he shivered from the freezing weather. Toriel was holding the six year old (y/n) tightly and immediately closed the door while Sans teleported inside.
“Hello sunflower,” Sans grinned as he glared at Flowey. “Where’s King Asgore?”
“Out,” Flowey merely replied bitterly with a low growl, careful to keep the hoarseness out of his voice.
Sans narrowed his eye sockets at the flower before shrugging an ‘ok’ and went into the kitchen for some ketchup. As he did, (y/n) took off her coat and waved a small hello at Flowey. Not saying anything per usual. Flowey huffed to himself and looked out the window, ignoring her. (y/n) looked confused, though Toriel didn’t seem to notice.
“Would you like some butterscotch and cinnamon pie my child?” Toriel asked. (y/n) nodded and when Toriel left, (y/n) took the opportunity to go over and talk to Flowey.
“Hi Flowey,” (y/n) greeting quietly when she walked over and looked out the window with him.
Flowey hesitated for a bit before answering, “Hi…”
His voice was much more hoarse than he intended and mentally slapped himself. (y/n) looked at him worriedly. “Are you alright, Flowey?”
“I'm fine,” Flowey stated plainly, before coughing a couple times into his vine. Embarrassment made his flower body heat up further which made him groan quietly in pain.
(y/n) frowned and placed her hand on his head and immediately yanked it back. “You’re burning up Flowey...When did this start?”
“.....Yesterday…” Flowey muttered, smart enough to figure that this wasn't exactly the time to be lying. (y/n) frowned more.
“I didn't think plants could get sick…”
“I ain’t a normal plant!” Flowey complained with a shout, causing him to go into a coughing fit. (y/n) gently rubbed the back of his plant head and Flowey soon stopped.
“Thanks…” he croaked out. (y/n) smiled and nodded when Toriel walked back into the room.
“My child, your pie is getting cold,” Toriel smiled before walking back into the kitchen.
(y/n) nodded and picked up Flowey and followed Toriel. Flowey sneezed into his vine and (y/n)’s grip on the flower pot increased. She spotted the pie on the table and took a piece with her to her room/guest room. Right before she made it out of the kitchen though, Toriel stopped her.
“Where are going, (y/n)?” Toriel asked.
The small (y/n) made a small gesture, saying she was going to work on her homework in her room and eat there. Toriel looked over at Flowey, who looked away not wanting her to see his weak expression, and she nodded and left (y/n) with Flowey. (y/n) left and headed upstairs when this time, Sans interrupted her.
“Where ya going, kid?” Sans huffed from the couch, drinking his ketchup.
(y/n) signalled the same thing. Homework.
“And the weed?” Sans asked suspiciously. His left eyes started glowing blue.
Flowey’s face was blocked from Sans’ view but she heard him snarl weakly as his head leaned against her. She signalled, homework help.
“I’ll come with-” he was interrupted.
“No, Sans,” (y/n) stated firmly, her tone inviting no further conflict, making Sans flinch. “Flowey is coming with me.”
Sans gaped at her and the fact she just spoke as she walked up to her room without another word. Leaving a slightly stunned Sans behind.
“That six year old has an attitude…” Sans mumbled before going back to drinking his ketchup.
In (y/n)’s room, (y/n) had placed Flowey on a desk. He had started coughing again, but kept refusing (y/n)’s help.
“I'm fine, (y/n)! It’s just a cough!” Flowey declared between coughs and a sore throat. Deeming it embarrassing to be taken care of by a six year old. (y/n) was trying to take his temperature, but he kept moving away from the thermometer.
“Come on, Flowey. Hold still,” (y/n) huffed in exasperation before finally managing to stick the thermometer in his mouth. He pouted at her and the thermometer read 108.8*F. (y/n)’s eyes widened and Flowey spat out the thermometer.
“I'm fine, (y/n)! I told you, it’s just a small cough!” Flowey protested, but could feel himself growing hotter and even more dizzy.
(y/n) ignored his protests and said, “Hang on. I’ll be right back.”
She left Flowey in the room and went downstairs. Sans was asleep, so she snuck past him and into the kitchen. Toriel wasn't there so she grabbed a small bowl and filled it with cold water and ice. She also grabbed a small towel from a cabinet and snuck past Sans again carefully. He shifted and (y/n) froze in place. She waited tensely still before Sans snored and she relaxed with an exhale. Sighing, she went into her room and shut the door. Flowey had indeed waited quietly, much to her surprise, but was drooped over limply. A small groan emitted from the flower and (y/n) frowned.
“Flowey?” she asked quietly, earning a small huff of acknowledgement in return.
(y/n) walked over to Flowey and set the bowl of water on the floor. She picked up the ailing flower and sat down with him in her lap. She picked up the small towel and soaked it in the cold water, before squeezing it damp.
Flowey protested hoarsely and weakly that he didn't want to be taken care of, but (y/n) ignored him and dabbed the towel lightly on his face. His protests immediately ceased as he realized how good the water felt on his face. It cooled down his fever by a bit, and he resisted a sigh of content as (y/n) continued to softly rub water onto his face/forehead with the towel. She did this for around three minutes and Flowey didn't complain.
Afterwards, (y/n) grabbed her pie and fed some to Flowey. It wasn't the healthiest thing for him, but (y/n) insisted on him eating something.
She glanced at the clock. It read 1:45. With the snow she was sure that she’d have to spend the night. But something told her Flowey was going to need more help than her amateur assistance. (y/n) stood up and walked over to the door to let Toriel know that Flowey was sick when a vine suddenly blocked the handle, not letting her leave. (y/n) turned to Flowey to see that he had purposely stopped her, but was almost too weak to really sustain that long of a vine.
(y/n) gave him a confused look and Flowey merely shook his head, not wasting any energy on talking. She smiled softly before walking back over and sat next to him.
“Let me guess...You're ego is too large to let anyone, or anyone else, help you?” (y/n) teased softly with a sigh. Flowey turned his head away from her and retracted his vine before nodding.
(y/n) sighed with a small smile before placing him in her lap again. “Ok...So...just me, huh.”
Flowey nodded again tiredly before letting out a yawn. (y/n) smiled before standing, holding the flower pot, and went to turn off the lights. After she did so she picked up a small blanket and sat on the bed. She placed Flowey on her lap and gently draped the blanket around his flower body. He leaned against her chest weakly like it was a pillow and yawned again. (y/n) gently began to rub his petals, making him purr quietly in content. She smiled a bit more and continued, lulling him to sleep with the rhythmic strokes. Flowey yawned once more and closed his eyes. “(y/n)?....”
The young child looked at him. “Yes, Flowey?”
He hesitated before muttering tiredly, “Thank you...For...well...you know…”
(y/n) chuckled softly, knowing he wasn't going to elaborate on anything exact. And she didn't need him to. “Of course, Flowey...Now go to sleep...I'll be here when you wake up…”
Flowey gave a very small smile, but it was still a smile, before falling asleep. Just before he slipped into a relieving sleep, he changed his mind a bit about (y/n). And that for a six year old, she was quite smart and gentle...And also that he was glad she was young. For he was sure the others would never do this for him…
(y/n) sighed silently and smiled down at the sleeping flower. She continued to rub his petals, making sure he was content even in his sleep.