A/N: Not beta read, we die like Branzy's subconscious. Also idfk what this is

Branzy closed his eyes against the late afternoon sun, but it still seeped through his eyelids, filling his vision with reddish-orange light. The grass he was lying in formed a cushion, a few stray blades tickling his arms. He could feel one of the daisies brushing against his cheek, the little flower feathery against his skin. Why he had decided to leave the casino and lie in the flower field behind it, he wasn't sure, but the sunlight and gentle breeze was soothing, and Branzy didn't want to get up any time soon.

He imagined lying there forever, until he was nothing but part of the soil in the field. The sun was making him drowsy, and he was tired. He could almost just fall asleep.

There was a corpse in the grass, lying down, eyes closed, breathing stilled. A curious fox sniffed at it, and he could feel the brush of the whiskers against his arms and over his face. The corpse smelled of iron and machinery, the heavy stench of redstone deterring the animal from eating it. The sun beat down on the body, warm against his skin. Other creatures were not so easily deterred as the fox, and he soon began to lose pieces of skin and muscle to various rodents and decomposers. Eventually he could feel the maggots blanketing him, and he smiled softly as his appearance slowly became less human and more like a mangled animal.

One of his eyes cracked open to take in the vast blue of the sky, but a maggot slid back over the lid, cool and slightly heavy as it pressed the eye closed again, like a gentle mother tucking her child into bed. The feather weight pushing on his eye was strangely comforting as the creature cleaned the skin off the bridge of his nose. The top layer of his skin was mostly gone by now, and in some places bone laid bare, but he didn't bleed. Blood was too shocking, too reminiscent of swords and the shock of betrayal to be a part of such a gentle process.

He could feel a slight breeze inside his open stomach cavity, whispering through his intestines and curling around his motionless heart, as if welcoming him back.

The worms and the maggots did their work, cleaning him out till he was but an arrangement of smooth bones. Mushrooms and mold sprung up, enshrining the place of death with new growth. Drifts of dirt eventually filled the places where his organs had been, half burying him until only part of his skull and ribcage poked out from the dirt, filled with fallen autumn leaves. Some small rodent made a home amongst the bones and the dry leaves, before the snows covered all of him, pulled back into the earth. He could sense the coolness enveloping him, tucking him away from the light. When the sun gained strength enough to melt the snow, there was no sign of the tortured soul that had lain there.

Flowers sprung up where the mushrooms had been before the winter frost, and now his bones were completely covered, only the smallest tip of a single rib still poking out from the soil. The speck of white bone was completely lost among the patches of little daisies populating the site of his death. Without looking closely, it could easily be mistaken for one of the little flowers.

"Branzy?" Clown's voice shattered his sleep.

"Huh?" He responded, drowsy, keeping his eyes shut and trying to hold onto the last scraps of dreamland. The grass brushing against his bare arms made itself known again, despite his effort to recall the feeling of being surrounded by cool, peaceful dirt instead. Sunlight continued to glow through his eyelids, and the breeze picked back up. At least the daisies were still there; he could feel the small flowers swaying against him from the movement of the air.

Branzy heard Clown coming closer until his shadow fell over his face, darkening the glow behind his eyelids. Then the other sat down beside him and asked, "What are you lying on the ground for?"

He frowned slightly, still refusing to open his eyes, "I am the ground."

"That's unusual." There was a pause as Clown lay down next to him, lacing their fingers together, "how did that happen?"

"I decomposed," Branzy mumbled, realizing how weird he sounded, but the other didn't seem to care. He wasn't sure if he had been asleep or imagining things, but he wanted to go back. It was much more simple than the confusion, noise, and strife of Lifesteal.

He hummed, "Well that's unfortunate. Give the worms my regards, will you?"

Branzy didn't respond. Clown turned his head, and saw the others eyes were still closed, and his breathing had evened out again. After a couple of minutes, it was clear he had fallen back asleep.

Clown sat back up, untangling his hand from the other's and brushing some of the silver hair out of his face. Branzy looked so peaceful, and he marveled at how easily the other could put aside the constant fear of death and fall asleep in such an exposed position. Although, he had been talking about decomposing, so maybe he felt he was already dead in some way. He kept watch over his partner anyway, absentmindedly weaving a flower crown out of the daisies to keep his hands occupied. Branzy might have felt safe, but Clown didn't, he never did. He didn't quite know when in his life he had picked up the method of weaving the flowers together, but soon enough he had managed to string together enough flowers to create a crown out of.

Placing it carefully on the other so as not to wake him up, Clown realized it was getting late. Nighttime mobs would be out soon, so he gently picked up Branzy, who made a half-conscious, unintelligible noise at being moved, but snuggled into him. They returned to the casino, where Clown gently took the flower crown off Branzy and placed it on the bedside table. The other kept his arms firmly around Clown even after he tried to put him down, so they ended up curled up together that night. Wrapped in Branzy's embrace, he finally felt secure enough to sleep.

A/N: I'm going to be on vacation for the next two weeks, so no updates for you for about a month or so, which is why I give you this little nibble of food now to sustain you