Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Water was lapping his boots, covering the pristine black gloss of the fake leather in a grayish sap. Waterfall had always been an uncomfortable place, but for a corporeal being, it was even more unpractical to go through.

Still, Mettaton felt relieved. The gentle rushing of the water was the only thing that broke the silence, and the delicate reflections of the crystals against the walls and floors, as well as the bright glow of the mushrooms and Echo Flowers, was the only light in the surrounding darkness. 

An android like him didn’t need any light to guide himself through a dark place, but Mettaton preferred sticking to more human-like ways of performing his daily duties. Even in an environment as insidious and uneasy as his old home, he kept his scanners down and guided himself simply through his artificial senses. 

“I had never thought my home had such beautiful scent.” His hands fondled the petals of a nearby Echo Flower, sending a wave of iridescent pollen towards his face. “These flowers… I never imagined they could release such a magnificent essence. It’s delicate, like a waltz. It really feels like home.” His lips shifted into a smile. It felt so great to be able to express himself.

As he stepped on the drier land, balancing himself on his boots, his smile grew bigger. It was so different from what he used to, but it was a welcome change of pace. He recalled the drilling yellows and fiery reds of Hotland and his own Resort. Now, they were nowhere to be found. 

Their houses were exactly where he remembered, identical in shape but different in color. “Just like we used to be, before I ran away.”

He rubbed a hand to his face, as if he was trying to brush away his feeling of guilt. It was in the past, now. “We both have ran away, now. And today, for the first time in both our lives, I will have the pleasure to hold him in my arms.”

There was a worker in his hotel, a skeleton names Sans, that lived in Snowdin with a younger brother, and one day, after a long night of performance, he had told him that said brother, who went by the name Papyrus, was a great fan of his, and it would have been most kind of him, being the Underground’s biggest and only star, to meet him at his house for his a hundred and twenty third birthday. He had accepted. “If only I could have imagined”.

The meeting was, for lack of better words, a complete and utter pain. That Papyrus was one of the most obnoxious people he had ever had the displeasure to meet, probably second only to that hysterical deer monster from East New Home that had tried to grope him from under his wheel. It was hard for him just to speak. He had kept babbling, over and over, about how great the robotic idol was, and how grandiose of a gift it was for him to come give The Great Papyrus a visit (“And Undyne finds me egotistical…”, he had thought as the River Person carried him back to his Resort), and after just half an hour of one-way chatter he had been tempted to fake an emergency and wheel back to Hotland as soon as possible, which he ultimately didn’t do just out of superstar sense of honor. 

However, he was partially glad he ultimately didn’t do it. At the very end of the meeting, when even Papyrus’ obnoxiously relentless energy seemed to be dying and all Mettaton wanted was a warm bath, a cup of hot oil and some relax away from that insufferable young man, the birthday boy had thrown himself over his drowsy brother, lifting him from the ground, rocking him in his arms, swinging around like a playful parent, throwing him about, and ultimately…squeezing him against his body, caressing the bare skull and repeating over and over how great of a brother he was and how lucky he was to have him.

Mettaton had felt something within him. Something he had never thought a super star like him would ever get to know.

Jealousy.

“Was it because I missed them so much?” he wondered as he walked towards the small blue house. “Or was it something else? Something I never knew I had always wanted. The feeling of holding someone close to my body, their warmth melting with my own, heartbeats in unison, and never wanting to let them go.”

He had hugged someone before, of course. He particularly loved Alphys, and how soft and cozy her chubby body felt against his solid casing, but Napstablook… it was special. It was a breakthrough. “We have lived together for hundreds of years, and yet, we have never been able to hold each other. Isn’t it silly?”. 

Their houses looked just like he remembered, and maybe even better, now that he was living within his house in a body that felt like his own. He had chosen his outfit with the utmost care: a white short-sleeved blouse, pastel pink trousers, and black boots with small wedges. From his neck dangled a heart-shaped pink crystal locket, a trinket Alphys had found in the dumpster and was more than ready to gift him with. 

“Blooky is probably more used to my performance outfit.” he thought as he knocked on the door. “But that’s the thing. It’s a performance outfit. Who wears stilettos in their daily life?”.

He caught a glance of the door handle shaking from behind. 

-Mettaton?- their voice was faint, barely even audible, and despite the novelty of the mechanic layering, it still felt like their own. 

-It’s me, Blooky.- he whispered, his lips shifting into a gentle smile. -Come out, darling. Show me the new you.-

The door opened. Two blank eyes stared at him from within the darkness. -Blooky?-

-I’m ready.- his cousin said. -Please, don’t get mad if you don’t like it.-

Then, Napstablook walked out of the door, their hands behind their back, their shy smile lighting up the room in Mettaton’s eyes. 

-You are…-

Their eyes were as white as pearl, encircled by long eyelashes, and their lips were as slender and thin as grass. A crown of short platinum hair framed a round face, with full cheeks and a small, round nose. 

-Yes, Mettaton?-

They were slightly shorter than him, and they were wearing a wide blue shirt with striped white and azure leggings, with a pair of big silver sneakers at their feet.

-…absolutely beautiful!-

Napstablook brought their hands to their face, their eyes glistening. -You really like it?-

-Of course I do, darling.- Mettaton leaned his hand towards his now corporeal cousin. -You are perfect, Blooky. We are perfect. Do you like this form?-

-It’s…- Napstablook shrugged, fidgeting with the fabric of their shirt. -Different. But I like it. It gives me confidence.-

-I am so glad, darling.- Napstablook finding confidence was always good news. He loved them as dearly as anyone could love a family member, but sometimes he wished - no, he begged - that one day they would have learned to rely on themselves. 

“Not anyone can be a star like me, I can understand that.” he used to think. “But stars exist to reflect their light on others, so that they too can enjoy being bright. Napstablook is no moon, though. They’re like an asteroid, silent and cold, and too far away for my light to brighten them up.”

-Would you do me a favor, M-Mettaton?- his cousin seemed to be scared of his own name. Mettaton clenched his left wedge in the mud. “I wish you could understand how much it means for me. I know you respect my needs, in the end. Please, act accordingly.”

But still, he nodded and smiled as he said yes.

Napstablook took a deep breath, -May I… may I hold you?-

And that was the moment where Mettaton’s smile grew back on his face, brighter than ever.

-Of course, darling.-

Hugging Napstablook was, as he had expected, a completely new feeling for him. Their chest was warm, but smooth, not as rough as Alphys’ scaly breasts. They were the perfect size to rest their head on his shoulder, their white hair mixing with Mettaton’s own obsidian locks, and their thin body leaning against his own, tangled in the comforting hold of his noodle-shaped metallic arms. 

-You are beautiful, Blooky.- he whispered. -Alphys did an amazing job with you.-

-It was easier for her. I’m glad it was. She already knew how to make a robotic body for a ghost, and…- Napstablook hugged themselves. -She took a lot from your body, Mettaton.-

Their lips shifted, reflecting their smile into his own. -It feels good… we’re closer than we’ve ever been.-

-We sure are, darling.-

For a moment, they stayed silent, looking in each other’s eyes and breathing the humid air of the Waterfall with their artificial lungs. “It’s fresh. It’s thick. It’s home.”

-Now, would you mind taking me for a ride?- he asked, offering his arm.

-I would be so glad.- Napstablook said, barely moving their lips.

And so they went, walking through the Waterfall side by side. 

They reached a field of Echo Flowers and spent entire minutes playing with them, recording lines in their petals and laughing out loud as they repeated them.

-Do you remember when we were small ghosts?- Mettaton asked. 

-We would come here for hours on end. You loved Echo Flowers, didn’t you?-

-I still do.- Napstablook was laying on their back, their hands behind their head. -I used to come here a lot after you…-. 

-I know what you want to tell me, Blooky. Please say it. We can’t ignore what has happened.- Mettaton said. -We have a lot to get back at.-

Napstablook laughed softly. -I have worked on seven new spooktunes. If you are interested, we can play them right now.-

The host nodded his head. -I would be so curious.- 

Napstablook pushed against their palms, and as they lifted themselves up, their right hand suddenly pushed against their chest, making them wobble. 

-Are you ok?- Mettaton jumped towards them, leaning their hands. Napstablook nodded their head. -I am. I was just wondering…- they stared at their feet for a moment. -Did it hurt, when you became corporeal?-

“Wait, what?” -No, it didn’t. Why are you asking it? Are you hurt, darling?-

-A bit.- Napstablook panted. Their hand pushed harder against their belly, where their blue SOUL was fluttering like a dazed insect. -It’s like a needle is piercing my SOUL. I didn’t say anything before, but now it’s starting to hurt a lot.-

Mettaton clenched his teeth not to scream. -It shouldn’t hurt, darling. Not at all. Something’s wrong, here.- 

Napstablook fell to their knees, hands to their face. -I don’t want to cause you any trouble.-

A cold laugh escaped Mettaton’s mouth. Then a faint sigh followed suite. 

“I love you, Napstablook, but I hate it when you do this. Being taken care of is anything but trouble, especially for me.”

-I’m a star.- his expression shifted into a sweeter one. -It’s my duty to take care of others.-

Napstablook nodded their head and pushed both hands against their belly. Shivers shook him like a leaf. 

“Poor thing.” -Lean on me.- Mettaton said, offering them his arm. -Alphys will take care of you.-

Mettaton brought his hands to his mouth, suffocating a sob. In front of him, Napstablook was already weeping, a pillow to his face. Alphys wiped her glasses on her lab coat, her eyes already humid. 

-It can’t be true.- Mettaton’s fist slammed against the mattress of the paper bed. Napstablook jumped, sobbing even louder. -There must be a cure. You can’t tell me…-

-Sadly it’s t-true.- Alphys whispered. -I’m sorry, guys. SOUL Decomposition is a v-very rare disease, and it’s i-incurable. Not even Dr. Gaster had ever b-been able to c-create an antidote.-

Napstablook hugged the pillow tighter and muffled a loud sob in the fabric. 

-There has to be.- Mettaton roared. -And you will find it. I will help you, if necessary. Screw the show. I can’t lose them. They can’t leave like this.-

-I d-don’t want to die.- Napstablook’s voice was a whisper. They removed the pillow from their face,  turned it upside down, and wiped at their cheeks with the other side. 

-And you will not.- Mettaton sat on his side, bringing a hand behind their back. Napstablook’s head rested on his chest, and their arms wrapped around the host’s hips. He sobbed loudly two more times. -It’s all fine. We will cure you, darling.-

-But we can’t!- Alphys screamed. Napstablook sobbed again, tightening their grip. -I w-wish I could. I want to. I k-know it’s hard, M-Mettaton.-

-Alphys.- Mettaton said coldly. -Stop it. We know.-

Napstablook lifted their head, looking at Alphys. A tear was running on her left cheek. “She’s supposed to be a scientist.” Mettaton thought. “Why can’t she save my cousin? What’s stopping her?”. 

-You are very kind, Alphys.- Napstablook whispered. -I understand if you can’t. I…-

Their buried their face into Mettaton’s chest again and began sobbing even louder. Mettaton caressed their hair, holding them as tightly as he could. “No, no, please no. Please.”

-Alphys.- His words were but a whisper as they escaped his disclosed lips. -Please. I beg you. We beg you. Don’t leave them like this.-

Alphys’ eyes were damp, and escaped his gaze. -I’m sorry.- she sniffed. -There’s no cure. I will l-leave you alone.-

She turned around, facing the door. -DON’T YOU DARE.- Mettaton roared. His right hand grabbed a nearby mug and threw it at the scientist. She ducked, and a cracking sound thudded through the laboratory, the only noise for endless seconds besides Napstablook’s faint sobbing. 

-Why d-don’t you understand?- Alphys wiped her cheeks with her sleeve. -I want to help. I wish I c-could help. I’d give e-everything to help.-

She caught her breath, her legs shaking. Mettaton’s rage-filled expression broke, and he quickly brought a hand to his mouth to muffle his own sobs. -But I c-can’t help you. A cure hasn’t been found y-yet.- she leaned agains the wall, panting. -I can’t f-find it in a few d-days. I wish I c-could, Metta. I l-love your cousin. I w-wanted to…-

-Alphys.-

It was Napstablook. Their face, still wet with the ever-running tears, was so torn and ragged it didn’t even look like himself. “I don’t want to remember this.” Mettaton thought fearfully. “Blooky, I am so sorry. I wish I could help. I’d give anything to help, even more than she could. I can’t lose you. I can’t.”

-You are a very kind person. I appreciate what you do for me. But I want to be alone with my cousin. We have things to tell each other.- They clenched their teeth, hugging Mettaton even closer. -Please… I’m sorry to be a bother. I want to be with him.-

Alphys simply nodded. She wiped her eyes again and ran off, almost stepping on the broken mug. Mettaton shivered in a sudden chill. “I didn’t need to do this.” He felt Napstablook’s hold tense around him as the door was closed. His cousin’s eyes were still tear-filled, and his wrists shook. They curled up in a ball next to him and brought his hands to their face.

-Blooky…-

-Don’t go.- Napstablook stared dead at the host, their lips quivering. “They’re so expressive now. I wanted to see them smile, and sing, and giggle with me. Oh, I see. Me, me and me. I need to take care of them, now. I have to cherish these moments. You may never know how long it may last.”

He thought these words with more and more chills, laying down next to Napstablook on the laboratory bed and holding their shaking body to his.

-Are you cold, darling?-

-Yes.- they whispered. -I’m cold, and sad, and scared. So scared, Mettaton. So scared I think I could Fall right now.-

-No!- Mettaton’s voice lifted in a sudden scream. -No. You’ll stay here, Blooky. Me, and you. Here. In this room. Side by side. We will sleep happily like we deserve.- Tears blinded him. -Can you see the stars, darling? All around us?-

-I can’t.- Napstablook sobbed. -I see dark. A black cloak wrapped around my face. It hurts a lot too.-

-Shush.- Mettaton’s hands began stroking Napstablook’s blueish-white, soft hair. “So lifelike. I could stroke them forever”. -The stars… they’re here. Even though you can’t see them.- Tears slipped between his lips, burning his tongue like vinegar. He clenched his teeth, trying to keep his sobs contained. “I will not upset you, darling dear.” -Galaxies, in swirling shapes and vibrant colours. Can you feel them?-

-Maybe.- Napstablook whispered. -Something. Around us. I can hear their sounds, even though it is very faint.- They too had begun sobbing. -I’m scared, Mettaton. I don’t want to go. I wanted to.- “One sob” - Do things, w-with you.- “Two sobs, then three”. -Sing. Produce our music. Together. I can’t, Mettaton.- “Four and five sobs”. -Forgive me.-

-Blooky.- Mettaton pressed his lips into Napstablook’s forehead. -There’s nothing to be forgiven about, my sweet cousin.- He tried to force himself into a cheerier tone, but he could still feel that it sounded incredibly fake. -We’ll stay together in here as long as you want. Me, you, and the stars. Keep your eyes close, darling. They will protect us.-

As he felt Napstablook’s senses slipping away, his mouth only producing quiet snores, Mettaton wept the night away. 

“I will cure you.” he swore in between sobs. “I swear it here and now, without ever looking back.”

But Mettaton, he figured out in astonishment as the days passed, had never been good at keeping his promises.

“Dear diary,

My cousin Napstablook Fell Down this morning. I came into their room to bring them waffles and milk to start the day, and as I called them, they didn’t get up.

I shook them, called their name, sobbed as they laid limp in their bed, but at no avail. Now they rest in Alphys’ laboratory, waiting for the moment they…”

His hand trembled, his fingers unfolded, and the glittery pink pen slipped from his grasp, landing in silence against the soft pink moquette. 

Mettaton rubbed his gloved hand against his face. He had been crying for hours, and was not willing to start again. “I must stay focused. My fans need me. If I let got of everything now, maybe I manage to keep my sadness away from them. This must be the priority.”

But the more he stared at the pink paper of the pages, the less he wanted to keep writing. He wanted, instead, to grieve and scream until no voice could come out of his speaker. 

He pushed his hands into his hair, pondering whether or not it would have been a good idea to pull them off his scalp. “Don’t let the rage take over the pain.” he frantically thought, pushing his hands against his desk. He got up and began pacing the room, hugging himself. “And don’t let the pain take over your duties.”

Undyne had come into his house just two days before Napstablook’s Fall. She had bags under her eyes and her ponytail was undone. She looked so run down he couldn’t even dare to joke in front of her. “It’s been a month since Asgore’s death”, she had said. The host sat in silence, twiddling his thumbs. She still looked as if she hadn’t gotten over the king’s recent passing, and death was not something Mettaton could make fun of, not in that circumstance.

“Grief has kept us restrained and unable to fight, but we will.” she had roared, in between loud sips the tea the host had offered her. “And so will you, Mettaton. You have the duty of keeping their spirits alive.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” he had asked. 

“The way you always do”, Undyne had answered. “I admit, you do have a talent for this sort of things. Just keep at it, I suppose.”

He had said yes, a barely hearable giggle coming out of his mouth as he lifted his hand to hers. But as the hours passed, and Napstablook’s limp body caught dust in Alphys’ laboratory, Mettaton had realized he didn’t even remember what happiness was. 

“-Keep their spirits alive.- he grumbled. -Forget about your cousin’s death, and be your happy-peppy self as if nothing has happened.-

In a raging gesture, he grabbed hold of his black reefer coat and hastily wrapped himself into it. He needed so desperately a change of atmosphere. He put on a bright pink neckwarmer and a black wool hat, and slammed the door as he left his suite. He marched through the hall of his Resort, hands in his pockets, the heels of his black pump boots clicking loudly against the tiles. 

“I’ll be back in thirty minutes.” he told the receptionist. “I need air.”

To be completely honest with himself, he didn’t really know where he was going. He pulled his neckwarmer above his nose and lowered his hat as much as he could as soon as he spotted a couple of dog monsters walking his way right outside the Resort. He usually loved interacting with his fans, but that day, he wanted to be alone. He needed to be. There were some things he couldn't share with anyone but himself.

He walked, and walked, hugging himself, shivering as he caught glimpses of his reflection in the glassy stones of Hotland and the streams of the Waterfall. Why was he walking that way, he didn’t even know. He just wanted to walk, and walk, and never think about anything but how to move his legs to progress.

But as he ventured deeper and deeper into Waterfall, and the soft whispers of the Echo Flowers began piling up against his ears, he began realizing that he was just running away from the inevitable. 

As he always did.

And at the realization, his knees buckled, and he buried his face into his neckwarmer, sobbing loudly and fast until he could barely even breathe. 

He felt as if his entire past was surrounding him from all sides, sculpted in the faint petals of the flowers and the thin grass that folded under his weight, and it left him no way to hide from what was to come. And he couldn’t face it. He never faced anything, and that was something that had always been a part of him. 

But he couldn’t run away from the fact that Napstablook was going to die. 

The words scared him. He pushed the pink wool against his face, sobbing louder. That was the place where they had grown, where their very past was buried.

“We ran here when we couldn’t stay in New Home anymore. To this day, I still feel fear whenever I go there. Wasn’t it for Napstablook, I’d probably not even exist anymore. And I haven’t even thanked them enough for saving me. I’m a terrible cousin, and I will never forget it, never never never never never”

-ARGHHH!- He yelled into the wool, punching the ground. He rubbed his tears off his face. Sitting against the cold wall of the cavern, he uncovered his face and hugged himself.

-I’m sorry, Blooky.- he whispered. -So sorry. So, so sorry. I’ll never forgive myself.-

-I’m sorry.- the Echo Flowers repeated. -So sorry sorryso so sorry sosorry…-

But Mettaton blinked, and wiped his eyes more carefully. It appeared to him that one of the flowers wasn’t whispering the same words of the others.

As he sat up, he realized it was right at his side. He didn’t recall it being there before, but didn’t really care. 

What bothered him, though, was the fact that the flower was whispering his very name. 

Chapter Text

-Mettaton…-

The Echo Flower was a pale blue, like an aquamarine, and was so tiny it could have fit into his palm. The android was almost scared to destroy it with one touch of his finger. 

-Mettaton…- the faint voice in between the petals repeated. -Mettaton… Mettaton… Mettaton…-

-How?- he gasped.

-How? How? How?- the surrounding flowers repeated, a choir of soft voices completely lacking in sync. Mettaton felt a chill run down his spine, and instinctively wrapped himself in his coat. 

-Mettaton…- repeated the tiny white Flower. -Mettaton… Mettaton…-

“It didn’t repeat what I said”, the android thought. “I’ve never seen one like this before.”

With the utmost care, he stroked the petals with his index. It was as cold as the Snowdin stream, almost painfully so. He wrapped his finger in a corner of his neckwarmer and sighed.

“This is not an Echo Flower”. He sat cross-legged in front of it, staring at the small petals and the graceful curve of the stem as if it had been a tiny work of art. Alphys would have loved studying it. He had been thinking a lot about a way to apologize to her for his rudeness. Maybe a new scientific discovery could have done the trick. Maybe, too, they would have found out why was it repeating his name. 

He took off his gloves and put them in his pocket. Then, he took off his cap and placed it next to the flower, spreading it open. “This small plant will be feeling lucky when I’m done with it. I have given it the most glamorous vase it could dream of.”

He dug his clawed hands into the ground that surrounded the tiny flower, and pushed them down in the dirt, lifting it up.

His eyes were fixed on the minute plant, as if he was scared it could somehow sprout a pair of kegs and run away from him. And when he finished lifting it up, he realized it also carried a very strong and sweet smell. Too sweet. It was almost stingy. His artificial sensors pulsed of disgust.

His arms threatened to give in as he carefully placed the tiny flower into his hat. He rubbed his eyes with his arm. He felt so, so drowsy. 

“No wonder. I cried almost the whole night through.” With a chill, he envisioned the flower as a decoration above Napstablook’s tombstone. A sob choked him, and his arms finally buckled. 

-Blooky…- he whispered. His cheek rested against the humid ground, even more painfully cold than the flower itself. And he felt so, so tired. 

Too tired to keep his eyes open. 

It was so dark he couldn’t even see the pink light of his SOUL container. 

He turned on his motion detectors, but couldn’t find anything, not even underneath his own feet. As he lifted his arms in front of himself, tapping around in an attempt to move around blindly, he realized he was chained in place. Heavy manacles were clipped around his waist, wrists, ankle and neck, and they seemed to vanish into the surrounding space. 

He tried to scream, but couldn’t open his mouth. 

A light beamed somewhere at the bottom of the corridor. First as tiny as the head of a needle, it grew bigger and bigger until it was the size of a spotlight, and so bright and white it hurt his head. He clenched his teeth under his sealed lips, shutting his eyes and pulling on his huge chains. Tears began rolling on his cheeks, pouring down his chin like a warm black rain. 

-Please, your Majesty!- a voice screamed. It sounded familiar, but he couldn’t tell who it was. He carefully reopened his eyes, and opened them whole as he noticed that blinding light was now gone. He saw colors and shapes that slowly morphed into a fully focused image. 

He grunted, still unable to speak. -No, your Majesty, please! I’m begging you!- the same voice repeated. A scene was taking place in front of him, confined into a square area that looked like a cinema screen. The light coming from the area delimitated the confines of an empty, tight room, in whose dark walls the chains he was wearing seemed to vanish. The android groaned and hissed, tugging at the chains and struggling. He fell to his knees: the iron was so heavy it outweighed him many times. 

The scene got more and more focused, until it was as clear as a picture. A pink room, with pink walls and pink silk curtains floating like hair into the wind. A bunny monster - blue fur, a tiny curl at the top of their head, dressed in brownish and dirty tatters - was kneeling against a pink tiled floor, tears falling from their eyes. -Please, your Majesty!- 

Suddenly, Mettaton recognized that voice. It was the enterprising young man who came next to the Resort once in a while to sell ice creams. “Wait, no. What did he call them again?”. And another figure was speaking from outside the shot. His voice was cold, and so distorted he couldn’t associate it with anyone. 

-Shut up, you fool. I order you.- the voice dripped with an entitled anger that Mettaton had never seen in anyone. “This is not Asgore. Neither is that new queen. Tauriel, was it? No. Toriel. Her name is Toriel Temen, and she seems like a fine person. I wonder if she’ll like me. But then, who’s this person? They must be stopped.” He pulled against his chains, but they remained still. Not even a clanking was produced from the metallic prison. 

-Please!- the voice of whoever that was felt blurred, as if they were screaming from underwater. -Please, please, please!- 

It was a numbing, wet cacophony. -Please!- And it packed up against his ears like cotton. -Please! Please!- And despite him shaking his restraints like rattles, and screaming his ears off into whatever was in his mouth, that was the only thing he could hear. 

Until even that blacked out from him. 

When he opened his eyes again, he realized he was in pain. 

First it was the head. A jackhammer was drilling inside his skull, deep inside, at an irregular yet frenetic pace. 

Then it was his eyes. His very pupils burned as if his sockets had been filled with acetone. He shut his lids tightly, letting some liberating tears fall on his cheeks. They were as scorching as coal, and as he caught a glance of his face in the reflective floor, left dark traces on his already smudged face. 

He sat up with fatigue. When he realized he wasn't restrained, he crawled towards a wall and leaned his back against it, hugging himself. 

He rubbed his hands into his hair as a calming ritual. Even as dirty and matted as they were, they were still soft and lifelike. “I really must thank Alphys for this.” He felt a sudden blow in his stomach as he realized, yet again, how rude and entitled he had been to her. 

As he though about that, one more realization came to him: the white flower he had wanted to pick up to give to the tiny scientist was no longer there. 

In a sudden bout of anger, he clenched his teeth. He took another deep breath. Wherever he was, the priority was to find a way out. “Even without that flower, I must apologize to Alphys. Again.”

He groaned. 

How many times was he supposed to be apologizing? How many times was he going to be allowed to before his words meant nothing?

He curled up on himself in a sudden chill. The floor felt as cold as the True Lab, and he himself, as lonely as he was, wasn’t much different from the Amalgamates he had paid many visits to. 

“The Amalgamates. Probably the only people I’m close to that I don’t have to apologize.”

He closed his eyes, hugging himself even tighter. He needed a rest. Wherever he was, he would have gotten out, because he had something to do. 

That second time, his sleep was dreamless. For which he would have been thankful as he though back about that day. 

When he woke up again, he couldn’t open his eyes. He was laying against what felt like a bare mattress, only clothed in what felt like a loose shirt. He felt a thick and heavy knot behind his head, and a rough consistency on his face. As he lifted his hands, with great fatigue, and moved them to the back of his head, a booming voice rung in his hearing systems. 

-Don’t.-

He gulped when he felt two cold, bony hands holding his own, pushing them gently but firmly away from the knot. 

-Who are you to tell me what to do?- he roared into the darkness. 

-Someone who can hurt you. Or help you. The choice is yours.-

-Help?- a chuckle escaped Mettaton’s lips. He pushed against the hands that held him, and their fingers pressed painfully into his metallic skin. -How is this helping me in any way?-

-Place your hands on your knees.- the voice spoke again. 

-Don’t ignore me.- Mettaton grunted. -Who are you? What do you want?-

-You are not to know.- the voice answered. -Do as I say, and I may give you something back.- 

Mettaton swallowed, clenching his fists. -And if you may, what would you have to give me?- 

That voice was deep, and sounded cold, as if it was coming out of a recording rather than an actual living being. The blindfold was thick and didn’t let any shred of light in, so he tried using his sensors. Nothing. It was like floating in the middle of outer space. 

-I may have something.- the voice repeated. -I heard, for example, that you have a cousin you love very much. And they seem to slowly be slipping away from you.- 

Trembling, but biting his lips in an attempt to calm himself, Mettaton brought his palms on his knees, and held them tightly. 

-Who are you?- he asked. -How do you know all these things about me?- 

-Come on, Mettaton.- the voice whispered. -Aren’t you flattered about all this sudden notoriety?-

Mettaton bit his lip, trying to focus. “Wouldn’t it be normal for me to accept that people know about my facts? I’m a star. It happens to them.”. He wasn’t ready, he realized with a new sudden chill, to come to terms with the fact that Napstablook was going to be a part of Mettaton’s life just like they were with Happstablook’s. That the Idol that Everyone Craves had a cousin (“three cousins, to be precise. But I wonder where the other two went… I guess I’ll never know”), and that cousin was but a simple snail farmer. 

“I lied to protect him, at least I thought. But I wonder what I really had in mind. It probably wasn’t as splendid as I expected”. 

-Stay away from them.- he hissed. -Whoever you are, if you have plans to hurt them…-

The voice chuckled, louder and louder, until Mettaton’s hearing systems had begun to ring. 

-Hurt them?- they asked. -On the contrary, my skeptical friend. I plan to save them. Wouldn’t that fit your needs much better?- 

Mettaton knew he was supposed to be angry, hearing them talk about his cousin’s life as if it was a massage or a gourmet meal being offered to him, but despite his efforts to conjure up said anger, he found himself opening his mouth agape. And then, almost without him realizing it, words escaped his lips. 

-Oh, please! I’d do anything to save them. If you have something, anything… I will pay for it.- his lips trembled, and he clenched them for a moment. -Is it money you want? Is it fame? Whatever it is, I will give it to you.-

A sudden bout of excitement filled the android’s body. His SOUL was dancing in his container like the butterflies he had seen in his documentaries. “Oh, thank you.” He wanted to clap, but he was still being held. Somehow, however, he felt no fear. 

-No gold, no fame.- the voice whispered. -It is you that I want.- 

Under the blindfold, Mettaton’s eyes blocked open. 

-Me?-

Suddenly, his SOUL was as still and limp as a block of ice. He wanted to move his hands to his belly and feel its small, but panicked movement. He loved feeling his SOUL moving in its container. It was as if a voice was calling from under that block, saying that it was him, and he was alive. Like a human. 

-What do you want me to do?- 

His tone was supposed to be firm, but Mettaton wasn’t sure how much he had been able to convey said firmness. He bit his tongue, tensing every muscle to hide his growing panic.

“If this body can be given from me, nothing excludes it’s possible to take it from me. I can’t bear the thought of giving up my corporeality. For Blooky, maybe.” He took a deep breath. “Or maybe I’m not. Maybe I’m not as heroic as I imagine myself to be. But could I live a corporeal life without Napstablook?”

He felt his hands shake. He pulled against the steely hold that restrained them. Not a single movement.

-I…- he swallowed. “Don’t show them you’re scared. They will not have this satisfaction.” -I must think about it.-

-There’s no time for it.- the voice spoke. -This is not like one of your sets, child. Real life won’t be as gentle. Choose, child. Remember that the clock ticks.-

Mettaton bit his lip, wishing it was as soft as that of an actual corporeal being. “Napstablook. Do it for Napstablook. They deserve this and more from you.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out of it. He clenched his fists tighter.

“What’s blocking me?”

-Child?- the voice spoke. 

Words escaped Mettaton’s mouth in a sudden rush.

-I ACCEPT!-

A sense of numbness filled the android’s arms. “What have I done?” A part of him wanted to scream no, raise his hand, and deny everything he had said. “My body, my body!” His fingers shook, and he tightened his hands into fists. He bit his tongue. His body, his beautiful body, was shaking like a leaf in the rain. 

-Now, speak.- the voice said. -Repeat my words.-

Mettaton clenched his eyes shut under the blindfold. “It’s ok, it’s all ok. Blooky will be fine.” One part of him was cheering. “You idiot. You can’t be without your body! Take it back!” Another one was yelling.

His voice crackled as he repeated the words that boomed inside his head. 

-I hereby offer you this body as a token of my loyalty.- he tightened his fists. -I exchange this metallic shell I inhabit for the life and health of my beloved. And pledge my obedience to his savior, until he may please, whenever and wherever his requests may take place.- His head was throbbing so hard tears had began falling on his face, slipping from under the blindfold. 

-May the deal be sealed.- 

-And so it is.- the voice repeated. 

A burning pain scorched Mettaton’s right hand. It was like a red hot needle being pushed through his palm. He screamed, and screamed, and struggled against the brick-solid hands that held him. 

-Stop!- he begged. -It hurts!-

-You made an oath.- the voice repeated. -Stay still, and suffer through it. Think about your cousin.-

-Think about your cousin.- Mettaton clenched his teeth tight, and held his eyes closed. -Think about your cousin.- As the pain slowly ate through his right palm, he focused on Napstablook. “They will live a long, happy life.” -ARGH!- “We will make songs together, and sing, and monsters and humans alike will find solace in my voice and your music. We will make them laugh, cry, and” -ARGH!- “and we will… never, ever be apart again. I will be forgiven, won’t I? I will repay you for saving me, back then. We will 

-AAAAAAAAAAAGHHH!-

One last wave burned his hand, and the nothingness swallowed him whole. 

He was laying on his side, his knees pressed into his belly, his arms wrapped around his body and covering his whole face. His eyes, watery and pained, sent him a fuzzy image of his surroundings.

He slowly, painfully unwrapped himself, crawling on the soft and pink surface he was laying against until he found a wall. He rubbed at his eyes, laying down again. The image slowly became more focused. 

“It’s my bedroom. I’m home… I’m back home, and I’m fine.”

He realized he was wearing his nightgown, and his old clothes were resting against his black faux-leather sofa. He got up, fighting against the throbbing of his head. He grabbed his pastel pink night robe, wrapping himself into it, and slipped his bare feet into his soft fuchsia slippers. He stumbled to the sofa, letting himself fall against it. 

“I am so tired.”

He wondered, as he pulled himself tighter into his night robe, if what he had done was going to be worth it. His right hand pulsed under his glove, and he rubbed it into the left, stroking it like a wounded bird. He slowly removed the glove, breathing intensely.

“What in Asgore’s good name is this?”

A circular logo had been incased in the metal of his skin. Two small circles interlocked with the main one’s side cut halfway through by its circumference. One was blue, the other orange, but they both stung equally. His scent detectors beamed within him: the smell was persistent, like that of burning coal. He put back his glove, shivering. “He did this. I can feel it.”

His room was silent, in an almost funerary way, as well as cold. “Do I even need all this space? And if so, what for?”.

Napstablook deserved better. If they had gotten better (“not if, when. Say when!”), he must create them a new place to live in. “Not in New Home. We can’t live in New Home after what we’ve been through”. 

He sighed loudly, his breath pumping in the silence of his room. It was divided in two wings, separated by a descendent step. On one side there was his bedroom, with a bed the size of a lunchtable, heart shaped, and covered in small pillows, all of which draped under a soft silk tent; on the other side, where he currently was, was his living room. He had a bunch of sofas, even though he was the only one who used them: no one was allowed into the star’s very own rooms; a fireplace was painted against the rear wall, with flames dancing in the shade as if they were real; there was his closet, his pink toiletries, filled with makeup and jewelry, and a white wooden bookshelf where he kept his scripts, his music sheets, his diaries, his CDs, and all the tiny tokens of his life. 

“What a beautiful, yet cold place.” He realized he felt so small and fragile inside that huge room of his. “I wonder if anyone has ever seen it.” He himself had furnished it, decorated it and brought all his belonging into it. It was his safe heaven. “But life isn’t as heavenly as I want, even for a star.”

He felt something moving under his side, and instinctively tensed. He brought his hand under his gown, and grabbed hold of his vibrating bedazzled cellphone. 

The clock scored half past ten in the evening, and at least ten messages from Alphys announced him that the deal had been respected.

He wiped at his eyes, holding his phone to his chest like a tiny friend.

“They’re ok. Napstablook is ok.”