Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“S-stay still! I’m trying to- to reattach your arms!” Alphys hissed. 

The moment Mettaton had gotten his legs back on, they’d relocated downstairs to watch the human fight Asgore. Mettaton was a little too invested, reacting as if it were a really cool movie—much to Alphys’ dismay.

“I’m sorry! This is just really interesting, doctor.” Mettaton would’ve shrugged, but alas, his arms weren’t on yet. 

Alphys frowned, tilting her head slightly, before returning to her work. “You.. you don’t have to call me ‘doctor’, we’re- we’re alone.” She muttered. 

“I suppose.”

“I-is that.. all I am to you nowadays? Just a.. the Royal Scientist?” 

Mettaton’s eyes widened as he turned to actually face Alphys. “Of course not! You’re my best friend and I love you dearly. I just.. you know. It’s different.” 

No matter how much Mettaton tried to convince himself that this was the right path to take, there was always that little voice within him. The one that always whispered discouragements.

They’ll find out.

Once Alphys is done with you, she won’t have to deal with your shit anymore. 

It’ll all fall apart one day. Better not get cocky.

He didn’t associate with anyone who could expose him.

He’d opted to push Alphys away before she could.

It wouldn’t fall apart. He was careful.

That voice had filled his head when his last episode.. went wrong. It’s hard to hear much else when you’ve been completely blocked off from the outside world. When his battery would run out, he’d just be alone with his thoughts. And it was out for a significant amount of time. That wasn’t ideal. 

None of his decisions were good. They only benefited him—and even then, did they really? What good did cutting his family off do? He abandoned the one person he promised he wouldn’t abandon. How was he supposed to live with that? This one fact haunted him. It might never stop haunting him. Nothing would ever be the same. Not even if he tried to reconnect with them, because he just. Left them. Without ever saying goodbye, without writing, without really even leaving a note.

Sure, there were the diary entries. But if anything, that’d just be salt in the wound.

And Alphys, what about Alphys? How would he fix their relationship? This woman. All that she was. Spent her time and effort to build him the perfect body.

And how did Mettaton repay her?

By distancing himself, of course. There was no coming back from that.

Why did he push away everyone he loved?

“I-I don’t.. think it’s that different, you know. We just have- have to.. be a little more care- holy shit.”

Mettaton, lost in thought, snapped back to reality when he heard Alphys swear—something that did not happen often.

“What?”

“The- the human, they just-” Alphys pointed to the monitor. 

Where Asgore once stood was a literal pile of dust. Was the human seriously that strong? To kill the king of the underground?

Well, then, Mettaton was lucky they spared his life. 

..Was he, though?

“What the hell?” Mettaton threw his arms out at his sides—a reflexive move, but it did make him notice he actually had arms again.  

“I know..” Alphys said, more contained than actually calm. She appeared to be focused thinking of something to do, something to say.. but what to even do in that situation? Her stutter seemed to have subsided, at least a bit, out of sheer shock.

“I- I don’t even- What are we supposed to do now?” Mettaton’s eyes were fixed to the screen, watching and waiting for something else to happen, before it cut to black—completely out of nowhere.

Alphys turned to Mettaton. “I, um.. need a.. a moment to think about this. I’ll see you later.”

“Wait, Alphys!” Mettaton tried to reach out to her, but she was already walking toward the basement elevator. “I'm here if you need to- ..talk," She probably wasn’t listening anymore.

And with the way she said it, Mettaton wasn’t sure he would be seeing her ‘later’. 

Chapter Text

The entire underground seemed to be quiet and eerie, like time was standing still, but even worse was the lab. It was never dead silent. There was always some kind of buzz or whir, like the monitor showing the human’s precise location.

But the human was gone now, weren’t they?

The monitor had completely shut off once Asgore dusted. It wouldn’t turn back on, either, and Mettaton didn’t think that was supposed to happen.

So it was quiet. Aside from the sound of Mettaton’s boots as he paced the room. 

It’d be okay. Any second now, Alphys would emerge from wherever she was hiding. She’d have some kind of plan now that the king was dead and—apparently—all the human souls were gone.

She would come back. She couldn't just.. leave him. 

Could she?

No, no, because that would mean he’d never get to actually apologize. And she wouldn’t do that to him. She’d give him a chance to right his wrongs, apologize, make it up to her, do something to repair their relationship. She couldn’t just disappear. 

That wouldn’t be fair.

Fuck, what was Mettaton doing, just standing around? 

Why didn’t he have a plan?

Maybe he could be the king. Sounds easy enough. Not many people were cut out for the job, so it didn’t seem like a.. highly coveted position. 

He could be king. Yeah, that’d work out. Everyone in the underground loved him.

But how do you just become the king? Would he just.. post it to UnderNet? Was that how it worked? Was there some kind of formal process?

No, there couldn’t be. Because there was a royal family before. 

On that note, what happened to the queen? Was she going to return now that Asgore was dead?

A lot of questions. Maybe Mettaton should think about this while he gives himself a makeover. 

If he wanted to be king, he had to look the part. Right?

Chapter Text

She was dead. Definitely dead. There was not a single sign of life within the lab. It'd been days.

He’d looked everywhere for her, thinking maybe she’d run away. Even the basement, which she told him never to go in—he soon found out why. She wasn’t there. She wasn’t in Undyne’s old house, she wasn’t anywhere in the Capital, she wasn’t at the castle, she wasn't in the Ruins—nowhere. That was it. She was gone.

It was fine. Mettaton wasn’t even at the lab, currently. He’d just arrived at the MTT Resort, trying to avoid the stares of his adoring fans as they noticed him and his new look. 

He had reason to be there. He needed to build some kind of team, now that he was king and couldn’t juggle both that and his TV career. He was king now. All it took was a quick live announcement for the whole population of the underground to accept him as their new ruler. Which was cool, he supposed. There were worse things currently happening.

So who better to join his team than the loser stationed at the MTT-Brand Burger Emporium? Surely he didn’t have anything better to do—was working minimum wage better than working steps away from the king? Of course not. 

“Jason! Jimmy! Jackson! Whatever your name is!” Mettaton said, twirling into the room.

“Oh.. hey, boss,” The cat monster grumbled. Truthfully, Mettaton didn’t know his name, and he didn’t really want to know. They weren’t friends, so it wouldn’t benefit him in any way. Mettaton didn’t want to be friends with J-Guy either. The cat was weird, kind of ugly, and.. always off-puttingly sweaty.

“And the king. Don’t forget, I’m the king.”

“Hey.. king boss.” 

Mettaton grimaced. Was that supposed to be some kind of joke? “..I don’t like that.”

“Is.. boss king better?”

“No, I think it’s worse, actually.” Mettaton didn’t think before that his face could show any more discomfort, but he was sorely mistaken. He cleared his throat, refocusing on his goal. “Nevermind that. I have a proposition for you, Jameson. How would you like to be my assistant?”

“Would it be a better position than this one?”

“Maybe in terms of scenery. The air is so thick in here—It makes me claustrophobic.” He was talking too normally. It was definitely the result of not being able to chat with Alphys since she ‘left’. “Pay would be slightly better, I suppose.”

The cat’s face contorted. Mettaton couldn’t tell what expression that was even supposed to be. “I mean.. I guess? Do I have a choice?” His voice was grating, unpleasant in every way. 

Mettaton blinked, surprised that was even a question, “Not really. I was just offering to be polite.”

“Okay, whatever, man.” The cat shrugged. 

Well, that was that. One employee down, several more to go. Some would be more difficult to obtain than others, definitely—but he was the king. He could just.. order them to work for him. What were they going to do, say no?

The next thing to think about. Who would be easiest? 

Maybe his one fan who kept sending love letters signed with his full name and UnderNet user. And phone number. And home address. Yes, it was already on the envelope. Yes, he wrote it on the actual letters too.

Who was that again? 

Chapter Text

God, why did so many people live in Snowdin? Not only did Mettaton have to hand over a contract to that blue rabbit, but now he had to recruit two new team members. At least Snowdin was far away from Hotland. Far away from the lab. He could distract himself here. The harsh cold was refreshing compared to the heat. 

Well, the lab was air conditioned, but.. he couldn’t stand to be inside for too long.

He was going to have to leave eventually. But he couldn’t go home either. Maybe he could remodel Asgore’s house. No one was living there anyway, right? 

So, as it turned out, this Papyrus person was Sans’ brother. How he never connected the dots, it’s unclear. 

Undyne’s friend, too. Maybe that meant he could understand, even just a bit, the crushing grief that Mettaton felt for Alphys. The full-body ache that never subsided, only wavered in intensity. 

Unfortunately, that hope was immediately thrown away, because when the front door opened after only one knock, Mettaton was met with..

Well, first a friendly greeting, and then the appropriate reaction to seeing the king. 

“HELLO THERE! WHA-” Papyrus’ jaw seemed to literally unhinge. “OH MY GOD! METTATON! KING METTATON!” 

He was loud. And too enthusiastic. Yes, the king is here, who cares? 

Mettaton was usually just as loud, but he’d had no reason to be as of late. There was no reason to put in any extra effort, actually.

“WHAT- WHAT CAN I DO FOR YOU, YOUR MAJESTY?” He seemed to have struggled getting the words out, words fumbling out of him like an elevator cut loose from its cords.

Already, this was irritating Mettaton. How could he be so normal? Didn’t he care about Undyne? Why wasn’t he at all upset?

Best to get this over with quickly, then.

“Do you want to be my agent?” Mettaton asked flatly. He really wasn’t in the mood for this. 

“HAVE I BEEN.. PERSONALLY SCOUTED?!” Papyrus’ eyes widened, smile larger than what seemed normal to Mettaton’s standards, “YES, OF COURSE! IT WOULD BE AN HONOR!”

“..Okay.” Mettaton handed over a few papers, stapled together. “Read and sign this.” 

Papyrus glanced down at the papers, considering them briefly before pausing. “HMM.. WOULD YOU LIKE TO COME INSIDE?”

Not really, no. But it’d be rude to say that. He’d like to be a lot ruder, but of course, that wasn’t socially acceptable.

“I’D FEEL BAD WITH YOU WAITING OUT IN THE COLD WHILE I READ THIS..” Papyrus gestured to the door with a bashful expression.

Was he seriously going to read over the entire contract? There wasn’t a very good chance he’d want to sign it, then.
Whatever. It’d be his loss then, not working for the king just because of a ‘questionable’ employment contract. 

Mettaton gave a weak shrug. “I suppose I could,” He muttered, having to duck slightly as he walked through the doorway. The extensions on his new boots had added several inches.

Maybe this hadn’t been the best day for him to come—he couldn’t even fake being fine, currently.

Well. Hopefully it wasn't as noticeable as he felt it was. 

As Mettaton looked just slightly to his left, he stiffened. Oh, damn it. Of course he’d hoped Sans would be here, but.. not here. Not in the same room as him, right off the bat. 

Sans was laying on the couch, stretched horizontally across it with his head perched upon the armrest. “what’s up?” 

“..That’s not the proper way to address the king.” Mettaton looked away. In any other condition, he’d be smiling, but.. well. Hard to smile about anything these days. 

“what’s up, your highness?” Sans winked. “what’re you hiring my brother for?”

Mettaton felt himself calm slightly at Sans’ playfulness. Not all was different. Not all had changed. “Well, I have an opportunity for you, too. He’d be my agent and you’d be my manager.”

“manager? sounds like a big commitment.” Sans repositioned himself, sitting up, but still faced Mettaton. 

“Maybe.” Mettaton stepped closer to him, holding out a similar packet—this one had an extra page.

Sans took it, skimming the first page halfheartedly, then looked back up at Mettaton. “and you want me?” 

Mettaton nodded with a soft sigh, “I don’t know that many people.”

“you’re a celebrity.” Sans pointed out. Thanks, Captain Obvious.

“I’m not taking applications, I’m seeking out specific people.” Mettaton explained, irritation seeping into his tone. “Why would I interview a bunch of strangers? It would be a waste of time.”

“i guess. you got a pen?”

Mettaton huffed, fighting the urge to say something cruel. “Do you? This is your house.”

Mettaton berated himself mentally for being so rude. This was Sans. If he couldn’t even be normal with him, how is he supposed to feign cordiality with everyone else?

Sans’ eye-lights flickered to the side. “ehh, i don't wanna get up.”

“Fine.” Mettaton materialized a glitter gel pen. He was just able to do that. He never questioned how, figuring it was something Alphys added.. And he’d rather not think about Alphys right now. “Here.” He handed the pen to Sans. Their hands brushed, and for a moment he felt a little better. Fuzzy, even, a much nicer sensation than the usual endless pain.

Sans flipped to the last page of the packet and scribbled a signature. He hadn’t even bothered to read it. Oh well, probably for the best.

Speaking of reading the contract.

“I’VE FINISHED! IT WAS A BIT WORRYING TO READ AT CERTAIN POINTS, BUT I WILL WORK FOR YOU, KING METTATON!” Papyrus’ voice was so grating. Of course Mettaton felt bad for thinking that, because he seemed like a nice guy, but it was genuinely painful to listen to. At least at the moment. 

Today really wasn’t a good day to do this, he realized. Mettaton was too on edge to function properly. It wasn’t his fault. What other choice did he have? He could build his team, then fall apart. If he gave up now, nothing would ever get done. No matter how much he wanted to.

Mettaton turned around, “Okay, do you need a- oh, you’re already signing it.”

“I WAS PREPARED!”

“I can see that, yeah.” Mettaton’s tact was completely absent, not that he normally had much. It had come out sharper than intended.

Now that he knew he had two new employees, he materialized two metal pins. They were just for easy identification to the public, so there was no special design, just the acronym MTT.

“Here, both of you.” Mettaton took the contracts back, trading them for the pins.

Papyrus held his like it was a small creature, something precious.

“I HAVE TO FIND AN APPROPRIATE OUTFIT FOR THIS OCCASION!” He shouted, promptly running upstairs. “I’LL SEE YOU LATER, YOUR MAJESTY!” 

Hopefully not.

Okay, hopefully when he was feeling nicer. 

Sans clipped his pin onto his jacket. “you seem off your game today.” 

“..How so?” So it was noticeable, then. Not good. 

“i dunno. you’re just not acting right.”

Mettaton sighed, walking over and sitting on the couch next to Sans. “I’m just burnt out.”

“the royal life’s not treatin’ you well? i thought you’d like it.”

“It’s.. a lot.” Mettaton frowned. “And-” his voice wavered. “-Alphys hasn’t been around.” 

Sans narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “is she okay?”

It’d be easier to lie. If he were to tell the truth, say it out loud, that she was dead.. It’d be real. And it wouldn’t be a pretty scene. “..Yeah! Yeah, she’s just.. busy.”

Sans didn’t look like he believed him. “hm. hey, i know we’re not super close, but, uh. i’m here for you, man. if you need to talk or something.” 

Mettaton had to force himself to stay composed, to not burst into tears right then and there. “I’m. Fine.”

“you sure?” Sans’ tone was pressing. Maybe because it was Alphys-related. They were friends. 

“Yes.” 

Sans shifted. Was he uncomfortable with the silence? “okay, well, you haven’t left yet, so clearly you’re not done here.”

“I just need a break.” Mettaton ran a hand down his face with a heavy sigh, borderline a groan.

“don’t we all?” Sans’ gaze softened. 

“What do you all day besides sleep?” Mettaton spat, then winced. Why was he always so fucking mean? 

Sans’ smile faltered, just slightly, clearly caught off-guard. “i’m trying to empathize with you, dude.”

“I’m- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.” Especially not to Sans. The last thing Mettaton wanted to do was upset him. “I just.. I don’t know.” Mettaton went quiet, unable to find a way to articulate his words properly.

“right.”

Mettaton really, really wanted to just collapse into Sans’ arms and start weeping. But again, what good would that do? He couldn’t fall apart yet, he couldn’t. Even if it’d be easier than continuing as ‘normal’, and he longed for something easy.

And it would just freak Sans out. Like he said, they weren’t even close. Even if Mettaton desperately wished they were. It would just be.. weird.

Whatever. That was three employees down. This venture would only get more difficult as it went on—his remaining connections were only those which he’d cut off. People like Shyren and.. Napstablook. 

How was he going to cope? He couldn’t see any of these future interactions going well. He’d deemed those relationships irreparable a long time ago, but he was desperate. Attempting to reconcile just to hire them probably wouldn’t be taken positively.

Why did he do this to himself?

Chapter Text

Mettaton held the pin meant for Mad Mew Mew in one hand and her employment contract in the other. The MTT Resort was relatively empty today, quiet, even. 

He was here today to meet with none other than his cousin, recently dubbed the name ‘Mad Mew Mew.’

Mettaton spotted her immediately, bright pink pigtails hunched in the corner, biting her plastic nails jagged. He physically flinched, the sight of her bringing back memories of late night conversations with Alphys.

That was her doll, the one she’d found in the dump, the one she spent weeks repairing and modifying. It got lost at some point.. Now he knew what happened to it. 

She looked completely fine, content. How was that fair? She stole Alphys’ Mew Mew doll and didn’t even feel bad about her death?

Well. No one knew yet. That was one thing. But how could she continue life as normal? How could anyone?

Mad Mew Mew’s ears flicked in his direction, her head snapping up shortly after. He’d been spotted. Her face twisted into a scowl as her arms came to lay at her sides.
Mettaton steeled himself. He pushed down his emotions to the best of his ability as he approached her with quick, purposeful strides to give the illusion of confidence. “Hello, Madison. I take it my job offer interests you?”

Maddy tilted her head, feline eyes narrowing. “Madison? That’s a new one, Hapstablook.”
Mettaton felt himself bristle as soon as the first syllable left her mouth. For a moment, he thought he was seriously about to cry.. but not here. Not now. He’d defend himself instead. “I will not be disrespected in my own establishment in my kingdom. I am your king and you will treat me as such.”
“Someone let the power go to his head..” Maddy mumbled, acting as if she didn’t purposefully make it loud enough for Mettaton to hear. She made a show of rolling her eyes.
Mettaton decided not to dignify that with a response, as he was sure he’d end up yelling at her, instead pushing the contract papers into her hand. He took a few steps back, putting distance between them, so he wouldn't be as tempted to start a fight that he’d regret.

What didn’t he regret, at this point? It felt like things just kept piling up.

Maddy breathed out a sigh, or an imitation of one, as she set to begin reading the paper. She didn’t last long, though, impatient as ever. Maddy was still on the first page when she relented, grumbling. “Okay, whatever. I’ll work for you. Give me a pen.”
Mettaton did as such, dropping his favorite glitter gel pen into the palm of her free hand.

Maddy hummed, clicking it and signing the document in her messy sprawl. Ever the family of dramatic flair, she added a heart at the end.

Mettaton could appreciate it, even if it was technically unprofessional. He did the same with stars. They’d become a bit of a trademark of his over the years.

Maddy gestured for the pin in his hand with a ‘gimme’ motion, eyebrows raised in expectation. Mettaton rolled his eyes this time, mimicking the gesture, as he traded Maddy the pin for her papers–and his pen. “Thank you,” he grimaced, saying it stiffly. He hoped she could tell even through his (not so favorable) expression that he was being sincere.

“So, what? Was that it? This is the first time you’ve contacted me in years. Was it seriously just to hire me as your bodyguard?” Maddy’s face was scrunched up, her ears angled flat against her head in her anger. “I have feelings! F..feelings, feelings!” 

Ah. Seems one thing hadn’t changed, then. The repetition. It was familiar, but not in a good way. The kind of familiar that made him feel like there were worms in his wiring. He knew he wouldn’t really like to be around his family again, but to this extent? It was.. kind of upsetting. 

“Well..you’ll be around me a lot,” Mettaton looked to the floor, avoiding her eyes. “We’ll be able to talk more now.” That didn’t settle within him right. As if it wasn’t a good thing.

To be honest, now that he was thinking about it, it wasn’t a good thing. He left for a reason. They know too much about him. And if he were to talk to Maddy more, she’d know more, and.. 

The wormy feeling persisted.

Maddy softened a little, her ears returning to their normal position. “We could talk now. Catch up. How long has it been since I left?”

“Four years..?” Just about, Mettaton thought. She was the first to leave, and Jiblook followed shortly after. 

“And you?”

“One and a half.” Not long after he met Alphys. He’d marked the exact date somewhere, but he couldn’t remember off the top of his head. Alphys would’ve. She’d probably have it down to the hour.

“Yeah. Come on. Let’s have a chat, Mettaton.” Maddy didn’t wait for an answer, grabbing his arm and stomping in the direction of the resort’s restaurant.

Mettaton was vaguely grossed out by the way her nails were all mismatched lengths and angles, chewed like a.. cat toy. He tried to push his judgement down to focus on the fact she was not going about this the correct way. “Wait! You need a reservation!”

Maddy shot a disbelieving glare his way. “You own the entire resort!” 

“But-”

“And you’re the king! No one will care!” Maddy hissed, dragging Mettaton to the nearest empty table. She let go of his arm, and promptly sat in the chair across from him. After a moment of quiet, she ‘cleared her throat’ and gestured to the chair Mettaton was standing next to.

He’d kind of zoned out, just for a second. But he sat. “I don’t know what to talk about.”

“Start by explaining this weird new look. You did not look like this last week.” Maddy emphasized this fact by looking him up and down, one eyebrow raised with a frown.

Mettaton waved his hand dismissively. “I.. made some adjustments. To look more royal.”

“Does royalty typically wear boots with spikes on the bottom?”

“..The old royal family didn’t even wear shoes, Madison.”

Her eyes narrowed again, tail flicking beside her in annoyance. “Stop calling me Madison, weirdo! I’m your family, not some stranger.” At least she didn’t call him that again. ‘Weirdo’ was fine, preferable even, when compared to that. 

He’d been saying Madison on purpose, really. Even though they were related, he felt like he had to push that part of him as far away as possible. So he’d wanted to treat her as a vague acquaintance, at most, but. Clearly, she wasn’t having any of that. Unfortunately.

“Hm.” Mettaton clinked his nails against the table.

Maddy continued, undeterred by his lack of a proper response. “And what’s with this whole team thing? The contracts, the pins? Did I sign an NDA?”

“No, that wasn’t an NDA.” He would’ve laughed, if it weren’t for the ever consuming emptiness he felt. “I just need more help now that I can’t devote all my time to my TV career.”

“And..”

“Well, you saw what happened to Asgore. I don’t want someone to show up and assassinate me.”

Maddy hummed, tail slowly calming. “That’s reasonable, I guess.”

Mettaton was growing tired, and would’ve loved to wrap this up. He needed a charge. “Anything else?”

“What are my hours like?”

“Do you.. have other commitments?”

“No. I’m just wondering.”

“You’ll be called to work when I have to go out in public.”

She seemed displeased, though her facial expression was vague. “So, what is that, all the time?”

“Not quite. You also have Fridays and Saturdays off.”

That made her expression brighten. “Cool. I can hit up your weird new nightclub.”

As if that summoned him, that ugly cat—his assistant—rushed into the restaurant, quickly locating Mettaton and skidding to a halt. “Um. King Mettaton? Your interview with Catty and Bratty’s in, like, five minutes.”

He smelled like cigarette smoke and concentrated sweat. It was nauseating. And he looked so distressed, for unknown reasons. 

New employees for Club MTT, though. It was quickly becoming the underground’s big hotspot, and needed some serious staff. These girls had been camping out by the MTT Resort’s dumpster for a while—this would be like killing two birds with one stone. Getting them out of there, and making them useful. 

“Well, here’s your first shift, I guess.” Mettaton said to Maddy, offering a weak shrug. 

Realizing he hadn’t addressed the cat, he slowly turned to .. Jeremy? And sighed. “Alright. Let’s go, then.”

Chapter Text

Mettaton and Maddy stepped into the MTT breakroom. This room wasn’t used much, and it showed by the dust and littering of cobwebs on the ceiling. Mettaton approached the coffee table, running his finger along it, wiping off a stripe of grey. Gross. He could see the water cooler was half empty, likely from evaporation more than use.

“I’m surprised this room isn’t covered in glitter. That seems to be your.. thing.” Maddy’s face twisted into something unpleasant, hands crowded against her torso like she was afraid of touching anything.

Mettaton stiffened, still not used to her presence. She’d been so quiet on the way, it was like she wasn’t there at all. If only, right? “It’s supposed to be.. less stimulating than the rest of the building,” He quickly brushed her off, attempting to look unfazed by Maddy’s body language. 

The cat looked like he was shivering, but not in a natural way. Like an electric toothbrush. It was disturbing. “Uh. Um. They should. Be here any second-”

“Stop talking.” Mettaton spat. He stepped away from the table, rejoining his employees near the door.

“Okay, sorry..”

Shortly after, the door opened, two monsters tumbling into the room like they were fighting over who got to go through the doorway first. Those two monsters were Catty and Bratty. He wasn’t sure if those were just ‘stage’ names, or if they were just.. destined to be a duo. 

“Hi! We’re here!”

“Yeah! We’re TOTALLY here!”

The cat was the one who set up their interview, so Mettaton hadn’t previously interacted with them. And they were already getting on his nerves, just slightly. 

“Oh, Burgerpants! Was that, like, your boyfriend out there?” Catty said, with a tone in her voice that indicated she’d been gossiping.

“What is he, the bartender? That’s, like, so sick!” Bratty added, as she seemed to do frequently, to her friend’s comment.

“..Mixologist, actually.” Mettaton interrupted. “Now. Your interview?”

Catty and Bratty shared a look, then erupted into a fit of synchronized hysterical laughter. It was like they shared a soul. It was unsettling the way they acted as one.

Maddy leaned closer to Mettaton. “I don’t like them.” She muttered, ears giving away her emotions.

Mettaton sighed melodramatically, collapsing onto one of the chairs. It wasn’t very comfortable.

Catty and Bratty sat on the couch, so close it seemed like they could fuse together. 

It made Mettaton feel a little sick. He just hoped it didn’t show on his face. His hands locked together on his lap, conveying the perfect picture of poise. “So. Talk about yourselves.”

Bratty’s face was lit by a huge toothy smile, her excitement evident. “Oh my god, so, like, we’re SO happy you’re considering us.”

“Yeah! We’ve wanted to work for you for soooooo long!” Catty’s expression matched hers, a feline smile stretched upon her face, crinkling the corner of her eyes.

Bratty took Catty’s hand in her own, tilting her head in her direction as she spoke. “We love you! You’re, like, our robot husband!”

“..Is that supposed to be a compliment?” Mettaton leaned away from them ever so slightly, eyes narrowing in a gesture stolen from the bodyguard standing beside him. It sounded more like a threat.

Catty laughed, either unfazed by or just flat out ignoring his hostile behavior.“Um.. yeah? Duh!”

“Right.” Mettaton sighed, relaxing himself when he realized there was no point to being aggressive with these girls. “Why do you want to work here?”

“We, like, come here all the time!” Bratty gestured wildly with her free hand, a pigtail hitting Catty.
Catty agreed, head nodding. “Yeah, this is our favorite place in the whole underground!”

“Totally!”

“My favorite drink is the MTT-Brand Mocktail!” Catty also had a habit of wild gestures.

Bratty excitedly gasped, tightening her grip on Catty’s hand. “Oh my god, mine too!”

Their energy was almost suffocating. No one should be this enthusiastic about anything. “Uh-huh.” Mettaton tsked in his distaste for these women. He couldn’t wait for this interview to be over. “What are your strengths and weaknesses?”
The girls stared at each other for a moment, before they turned back to him and launched into a turn-taking spiel.

“We have, like, crazy work ethic!”

“Yeah! We never have a day off, and we totally love it!”

“And we’re super good at teamwork!”

“Yeah!”

He let them sit in silence for a second. “..And weaknesses.” Mettaton repeated, his patience waning. He looked down at his nails, studying them in his lap.

“Oh, right!” 

“Um..”

“That’s a hard one. What do you think?”

“Bratty.”

“Catty?”

“I have no idea!”

Mettaton shuddered. “I think my assistant will take over with the interview questions now.” He shot up from his seat, but gave them a polite-looking nod, following it with a nod in the sweaty cat’s direction.
Maddy immediately gathered close beside him, making her presence known. Mettaton had practically forgotten she was there. Again. She was oddly silent when she wasn’t actively talking, footsteps and breath silent as the cat she was. 

The cat she really shouldn’t be. Stupid stolen doll.

Mettaton stepped out of the room, walking stiffly, Maddy trailing behind him. He just couldn’t deal with their overwhelming.. happiness. What was there to be so goddamn happy about? 

He leaned against the wall after slamming the door closed behind Maddy, sending a quick text to his assistant, to just hire those girls no matter what they say. It made no difference to him, really. Club MTT was understaffed enough as is.

Maddy joined him, her back against the wall and her arms crossed against her chest.“..So.. why’d we leave in the middle of an interview, bud?”

Don’t call me ‘bud’, I’m your employer, and the king.” Mettaton scoffed, wiping imaginary dust off of his cape.

Maddy waved her hand in the air, dismissing his words. “Waah, waah, I’m the king, I’m better than you. Answer the question!”

“They make me sick,” Mettaton hissed, face twisting in rage. His anger surprised him, face falling flat. He knew he found them annoying, but not to this degree. Then again, he never was very good at reading his own emotions.

“I know you're all angry for whatever reason, but does happiness really set you off that bad?” Maddy’s eyebrows furrowed in judgement, lips pressed in a tight line. “Jeez. You need a therapist, man.”

“..I know.” That was his next target, actually. Apparently Jiblook— Ruins Dummy, now, had a psychology degree. And he wasn’t actively putting it to use, for some reason, but Mettaton could probably change that with enough money and influence as the king. 

He needed a publicist, too, anyway. Two jobs shouldn’t be that hard. 

Chapter Text

Mettaton stepped into Grillby’s, the spiked bottom of his boot lifting from the sticky ground with a rip. Some monsters really couldn’t hold their beer. Loud conversations echoed from all angles, much to Mettaton’s misfortune, irritation quickly building. Maybe it was good that he hadn’t worn his shoulder pads today. This place was crawling with people.

Maddy didn’t look much happier herself, a scowl marring her features. As per usual, he supposed.

Mettaton found the object of today’s visit easily, sitting atop a stool, chatting away to the bartender. Ruins Dummy had certainly seen better days. Mettaton approached him, hands held close to his body. Maddy appeared beside him as soon as he stopped walking.

“...Hi.” Mettaton said, hesitantly, like he was talking to some rabid creature instead of his own cousin. He was never really close to Ruins Dummy. It was him and Napstablook, then Maddy and Ruins Dummy. So maybe he wouldn’t be as mad at Mettaton for leaving—maybe he wouldn’t even know Mettaton did leave, because he was in the Ruins long before any of that. 

“Oh hey.” Ruins Dummy slurred, spinning himself on his stool to face Mettaton. His head drifted to Maddy, and he immediately seemed to brighten. “Maddy! I’ve missed you.”

There was something about the way he greeted Maddy with such warmth, and Mettaton with next to none—on the one hand, that was a good thing. On the other, it was.. weird. At least Maddy knew who he was, even if she was hostile. 

It’d only get worse with Napstablook, then. 

“Uh. You too, Ruins Dummy. I’m kind of working right now. Let’s talk later.” Maddy gave an awkward smile, tapping a nail on her MTT pin with a clink.

Ruins Dummy laughed at that. “About time you got a job. Anyways, uh, why are you and Mr. TV Star talking to me right now..?”

“I have a proposition for you. Would you like to be my publicist?” Mettaton leaned in, gesturing with his eyes to Sans sitting at the end of the bar to explain why he was doing so. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “..And my therapist?” 

“Yeah, I guess. I don’t have anything better to do.” Ruins Dummy nodded, head unbalanced with the influence of his alcohol.

Mettaton reached for the papers Maddy was holding for him, then stopped abruptly as he really noticed Ruins Dummy’s lack of. Arms. Would he.. sign the contract with his mouth, or..?

Yes, apparently, Mettaton realized.

Ruins Dummy did exactly that, taking the papers from Mettaton and putting them on the bar surface. He then took hold of Mettaton’s offered pen with his muppet mouth, signing the contract—sloppily—without sparing it a glance. 

How did his cousin manage to make it through college..?

“Thanks, boss.” Ruins Dummy said, mouth muffled by him returning the pen to Mettaton’s palm.

Mettaton put the pen away—it disappeared the same way it appeared—picking up the now wrinkled papers and handing them back to Maddy, who had something new in her hand. 

Right. “Here. Your employee pin.” He took the pin that Maddy was holding, presenting it to Ruins Dummy.

Ruins Dummy paused, beady eyes staring at Mettaton. “Uh. Would you mind pinning it to my chest for me? I can’t really do it by myself..”

Mettaton sighed, tentatively sticking the pin through Ruins Dummy’s chest. Did that.. hurt? 

“Right, okay. Would you.. want arms, by the way? I know how to sew. I could make you some.” He asked, ‘stomach’ turning the moment the offer left his speaker. Why would he do something so nice for someone who was supposed to be a stranger? And he couldn’t just tell Ruins Dummy about ‘the Mettaton thing’, at least not right now. They were in public.

Ruins Dummy didn’t seem very fazed. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind them. Arms are pretty helpful, I think.” A blank smile rested on his not-very-expressive face. 

“..Okay. I’ll get started on those, then.”

Maddy crossed her arms. “You know he’s, uh.. Ha-”

“SHUT UP!” Mettaton shouted, a wave of electricity radiating off of him. Oh. That was new. It didn’t seem harmful, considering nobody took damage, but that definitely couldn’t be.. good. Not to mention the fact that he just yelled at Maddy out of nowhere. But she looked more or less unaffected, if a little judgmental. Her mouth was twisted into a scowl, her eyes slitted.

“You- You can’t- just say that, in public-” He choked out, starting to feel dizzy. Yeah, like that’s fair. A robot that can get dizzy. 

Ruins Dummy seemed to grimace, though it was kind of hard to tell. “..Well, I can see why you need a therapist now.”

“Right?” Maddy snickered, playfully smacking Ruins Dummy. 

This was too much. “I- I’ll- I’ll be back. Maddy, you can stay and hang out with him. Bye.” Mettaton backed away, stumbling slightly, wrapping his cape around himself protectively. 

The moment he stepped outside, and the cold hit, he felt.. slightly better. Clearer, at least, like he could think. It was so stupid that he wanted everything to be like it was before, but also the complete opposite. It couldn’t go both ways. He couldn’t have the perfect relationship with his family while loudly resenting them at the same time.

“hey.” Ah. Seems he’d been followed. “what, uh. what was that about?” 

Of all people, did it have to be Sans? Couldn’t it have been Maddy, disregarding his suggestion to stay inside? No, it was Sans, and he had genuine concern in his eyes—at least, it seemed like it.

Mettaton sighed, air vents releasing swirls into the cold. “I.. just need a minute.”

“okay, so that actually didn’t answer my question.” Sans was shifting, maybe nervously. Mettaton saw from the outer part of his eye, his motion sensors locking onto the movement even while he was trying to avoid Sans’ scrutiny.

Mettaton relented, turning to Sans with his teeth bared. “What do you want?” 

“..to see if you’re okay?”
Oh. That was.. nice.

Mettaton’s anger deflated, leaving him once again feeling empty. “Why does it matter to you?”

“you’re, uh. my boss. and also my friend.” Sans kept steady eye contact, smile a soothing balm to Mettaton’s nerves..

“Madison’s being a bitch.” 

“right. so you electrocuted her in retaliation?” 

“I- No, I didn’t mean to-” Mettaton’s eyes widened, hurrying to defend himself. “I don’t know what that was.”

Sans seemed relieved by that. He placed a bony hand on Mettaton’s arm, his smile softening to something less abrasive than his resting face. “you wanna go for a walk?”

Mettaton fought the instinct to pull away from the touch, eyes narrowing in something akin to suspicion. “Why, exactly?”

Sans hummed, head nodding to the left like he was thinking deeply. “‘cause you’re upset? it’d make you feel better.. probably.”

“..Fine.”

They were just breaching Snowdin Forest now, trees slowly engulfing their distant view on all sides. Mettaton hadn’t really been out for any reason except work until now, it was nice to just be able to relax a little. They’d walked mostly in silence, Sans’ hand on him an evergrounding presence to keep Mettaton sane.

Sans broke the quiet, and Mettaton’s peace with it. “..so, uh.. you seen alphys lately?”

“No.” Mettaton immediately stiffened, his footsteps growing narrower together with his need to shrink into himself. “She’s. Busy.”

If Sans sensed his discomfort, he didn’t show it. “ah. how’s work?”

“You should know. You’re my manager.” With the change of topic, Mettaton’s panic faded, and he returned to his normal posture.

“ehh, i wanna hear your opinion.”

“It’s been fine. Boring. I’ve been mostly focused on hiring people.”

“yeah, i’ve noticed.” Sans turned to him with a heavy stare, halting their movement. “what’s wrong, man?”

Mettaton’s annoyance flared back to life, and he bit back a snide remark. “What?”

“from what i remember, you used to be pretty happy to be around me. what’s with the hostility?”
Sans was pointing out things Mettaton did NOT want to talk about right now, and it made Mettaton’s breathing pick up. Puffs escaped his neck air vents with higher intensity, signaling he was about to freak the fuck out if something didn’t change immediately.
“I’m going through a lot right now!” Mettaton seethed, teeth flashing as he ran a hand through his hair.

“clearly.” Sans rolled his eyes, but it wasn’t meant to be cruel—or at least Mettaton thought so. “i’ve said this before. i’m here for you if you need to talk.”

“That’s not-” Mettaton groaned, frustration mounting. “You don’t mean that.”

Sans’ voice was firm, daring Mettaton to argue. Which he would certainly take up. “yes i do.”

“No, because if I say something, you’re just gonna-” He gestured wildly with his hands, unsure himself of what he was trying to say, much less how to convey it. “Ugh! I have a therapist now. It’s fine.”

“doesn’t seem like it.”

Mettaton backed away from Sans, desperately needing some space. His manager’s presence and the trees felt suffocating. “What do you want from me?! I’m- I’m trying not to fall apart, and it’s like you’re encouraging me to!”

Sans’ face softened. He didn’t stop smiling—he never did—but the joy wasn’t there. “i’m just.. worried about you.”

“Why?” Mettaton snapped, wrapping his arms around himself as his back came into contact with tree bark. “Why do you care? What’s your problem?”

Sans followed, hands up with his palms facing Mettaton to show he meant no harm. “i don’t have to have a reason. you’re my friend, and i care about you.”

Mettaton sunk to the ground, one hand tugging on and ruining the hair he spent hours doing this morning. Tears welled in his eyes, and while he tried to suppress them, he wasn’t in the right mental state to do so successfully.

“..are you okay?” Sans came to a stop about a foot away from Mettaton, kneeling to join him on the ground.

Mettaton tugged on his hair harder, the discomfort grounding him in the moment. The tears began falling, black streaks smearing the white metal of his cheeks. He gave up on showing any semblance of mental stability right now. “What does it look like?” 

Sans hummed at that, like it would buy him some time before he needed to answer. “i mean. no. but it doesn’t hurt to ask.”

“I- I can’t-” A cry ripped itself from Mettaton’s throat, stopping his sentence as soon as it began. All he could do was just.. stare up at Sans. There was no effective communication going on.

Sans opened his arms, an invitation that Mettaton longed to accept. “..c’mere, man.”

Anyone else, and Mettaton would’ve literally killed them, right there, no hesitation. But. Of course, it had to be Sans, who he could never truly be upset with. He hadn’t been this whole time—he was just mad at.. everything else. Himself. Even Alphys, for leaving him.

So Mettaton dragged himself slightly closer, then clung to Sans, shaking, tears still flowing. Oh. That’d stain Sans’ hoodie.

He didn’t seem to mind, though, bony fingers running through the knots in Mettaton’s hair.

After a while, maybe 10 minutes, maybe an hour, maybe a year, Mettaton’s sobs turned to whimpers turned to silence interrupted by the occasional sniffle, or by a ‘shhh’ from Sans.

Mettaton’s face was buried in Sans’ collarbone, and it’d hurt, probably, if it weren’t for his now black splotched hoodie. “..I’m sorry.”

Sans hummed into Mettaton’s hair, the sound comforting. “i know. you got a lot going on. i get it.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m allowed to yell at you.” Mettaton sniffled, nuzzling his face further into the white-ish fabric.

Sans shrugged, the movement jostling Mettaton ever so slightly. “i get yelled at every day.”

Mettaton scoffed, smiling bitterly, though no one could see it.“So I can just.. contribute to that?”

“no, i’m just sayin’.” Sans’ hand in his hair got all the knots out, it seemed, instead twirling it around a couple of fingers.

Mettaton felt the familiar sting of tears welling again, and he tried his best to will them away. “I don’t think.. I don’t think I’m cut out for this.”

Sans sighed, breath ruffling Mettaton’s extremely ruined hair further. “not many people are. you’re a super celebrity and the king.”

Mettaton didn’t feel like he deserved those titles. “..Hm.”

“do you, uh.. wanna get out of the cold?” Sans’ smile returned in full force, but it had care behind it. “we’re kinda just kneeling in the middle of the forest.” 

“..Okay.”

Chapter Text

Mettaton was well prepared for today’s venture, physically at least, decked in all of the water protective gear he’d collected since he took this form.

He needed it, clearly.

Mettaton huffed, irritation slamming into him full force as he stepped into a puddle. It nearly splashed on him!

Such a thing was hard to avoid, being in Waterfall and all, but it was truly infuriating. Maddy’s incessant talking didn’t help, yammering away about anything she could find the words to form about.

She was bored, Mettaton assumed, but that didn’t mean she got to bore him to death! Christ! If she wasn’t the one with the umbrella he probably would have told her to go home.

As they approached the two houses, Mettaton froze. He thought he’d be better prepared for this. Mentally. But seeing his own old house, lights off, abandoned.. It made him want to run and hide. ..However, they'd come all this way. No use turning around now, he told himself.

He inched closer to Napstablook’s front door, slowly, slowly. God, this was terrifying. He felt a tremor in his legs, hands unsteady in their clenched fists.

Mettaton must have been staring at the door for a few minutes when Maddy finally broke the silence with a groan.

“Ugh, you want me to do it for you or something?” Maddy hissed, nose scrunched up.

“I..” Well, he was going to shout at her for being sassy. But that really would be better. “Yeah, actually.”

“Fine! Can’t do anything by yourself,” Maddy chided, fist smacking against the door with misplaced aggression. She crossed her arms and waited, glare never leaving Mettaton’s face.

The door opened with a creaaaak, ever so slightly, a soft glow spilling over the ground in front of it.

“...h..hello?—” Napstablook’s voice came, quiet.

A pale face followed, their lightless eyes peering through the open crack. “..oh..wow.. king mettaton...”

Mettaton felt his body tense further than he thought possible, his anxiety coming to the surface in an intense wave now that he was finally met with the subject of it.

Napstablook’s expression gave little away, the same wide eyes and mouth open in a half-sob that they always wore. It was ..comforting, perhaps, to see how little they’d changed—physically.

“..Hi. May we come in?” Mettaton’s voice was stiff, as monotone as possible. Any emotion could open the floodgates, months of bottled up affection for his favorite cousin. He couldn’t deal with that right now. Maybe not ever. 

“oh..yes, of course.. your... majesty...?” Napstablook floated aside, the door opening wider with their movement.

“Great!” Maddy shoved ahead, not even making an attempt to wait for Mettaton. 

It was for the best, anyway. He was still frozen in place. Being in this area in general was already a nightmare, but he didn’t even think about how he’d have to go into Napstablook’s house.

Napstablook was an easy pick.. in theory.

Yes, sure, maybe they’re not super socially adept, and maybe they can get too in their own head some days, but they’re a hard worker, really; they’re a monster of the people, so long as those people are letting them hide behind curtains and work with their headphones on. And that’s exactly what they’d do—music production. No interaction with others besides, probably, their coworkers. 

But in practice, Mettaton having to talk to them—It was not ideal.

“Oh my- Mettaton! Get the hell inside before I leave you out there!” Maddy shouted.

Fine. He would.

One step at a time.

One very slow, careful, eyes-closed step at a time.

Oh, look at that, he made it inside the house.

“Took you long enough. Angel above.” Maddy groaned, closing the door behind him, which may have made him jump a little.. “Hi, Napstablook.” Her voice was significantly warmer when she spoke to them. Just like when she was chatting with Ruins Dummy.
Mettaton finally opened his eyes, cringing when he was overwhelmed by the orangey-brown assaulting his irises.

Napstablook’s face was twisted into something unpleasant, staring between the two surprise visitors. “hi..maddy..um...what.. what’s.. going on...?”

“Oh, I’ll let our glorious King tell you.” Maddy rolled her eyes, stepping aside so Mettaton was face-to-face with Napstablook. She pulled out her phone, long nails tapping away at the screen.

“I.. Napstablook, darling. Would you like to be—” Mettaton hesitated, “My.. Music producer?” Mettaton held out a contract—and his signature glitter gel pen—with shaky hands. 

“oh..wow, this is.. an honor...?” Napstablook took the contract into their hands, “why me...?”

“I’ve heard your music, and, well.” Mettaton looked away swiftly, an imitation of bashfulness. “I can’t self-produce anymore, now that I’m the king. I just don’t have the time.”

“oh.. i see...okay, that makes sense...”  So Napstablook took a couple moments to read over the contract, then signed it without any further questions. That’s good.

Mettaton snapped his fingers, grabbing Madison’s attention. Maddy scrambled to hand a custom ghost-lanyard to Napstablook—able to hold such things, thanks to not yet being fused with the Mew Mew doll she inhabited.

“..And I believe Mettaton has something else to tell you... Blooky.” Maddy had a sly smile on her face, but was glaring at Mettaton harshly.

Mettaton shuddered at the nickname, refusing eye contact with either of them.

“uh..what.....” Napstablook’s face shifted to one of deep confusion, grip tight on Mettaton’s gel pen. Which he wanted back.

“Madison. Why did you-” Mettaton took a deep breath in an attempt to soothe his growing anger, hardening his voice to steel. “..Napstablook. Do you remember. Your favorite cousin. The pink one. Who lived next to you.”

Napstablook hummed, “of...course..?” 

“..That’s.. Me.” 

“i’m.. not following...?”

Mettaton felt the corner of his mouth twitch, fighting back the urge to scream. “I’m. Your cousin.”

“...you’re mettaton,” Napstablook said. Dumbly. And Mettaton thought Maddy was the stupid one in this family.

“Where do you think I went, Blooky? I didn’t just disappear. A-” Mettaton was interrupted by the oppressive feeling swelling in his chest. “Alphys, she.. built me this body. Because I wasn’t. Happy here.”

Napstablook didn’t meet their eyes. “..‘happy’..” 

Right, that's what they used to call him.

“..Haha. Yeah.” There was no humor in his laugh. It was out of discomfort, if anything.

“i..just... why didn’t you.. say goodbye, or... or leave me a note, or.. something..?” Napstablook met Mettaton’s eyes now, and something akin to anger—sadness?—was simmering under the surface of them.

Mettaton sank in on himself, crossing his arms across his chest. “I didn’t think you would miss me.”

“of course i missed you...why.. wouldn’t i..?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking.”

A long, excruciating beat of silence passed.

“..i’ll work for you, but... that’s all..” Napstablook retreated to the back of the room. “i need a bit.. to think about this.....” 

“I-” Mettaton gulped, nodding his head hurriedly. “I understand. I’m sorry.”

Napstablook was faced away from them now. “can you... please leave?”

“..Okay.” And Mettaton did, awkward and stiff as he grabbed Maddy’s wrist, dragging her out with him.

Once outside, it fell silent again as they started walking.

Maddy burst out laughing, clothing ruffled when she finally was calm enough to catch her breath. “Well. That was a shitshow, huh, Happy?”

Mettaton grinded his teeth, imbuing his voice with venom. “That’s enough.”

“Jeez, man,” Maddy sighed, face falling flat. “Lighten up.” 

Chapter Text

Mettaton hadn’t talked to Shyren since.. honestly, it may have been before he even met Alphys. When Shyra ‘fell down’. 

The last time they spoke, he made her that dumb promise about performing together with Napstablook one day. That clearly wasn’t happening.. for a number of reasons. Napstablook hated him now, Shyren didn’t know he still existed, and of course, he was far too busy anyway. 

He did regret getting her hopes up—but he didn’t know he’d have to leave until he met Alphys. A lot of things changed when Mettaton met Alphys.

Shyren reminded him of her, in a way. They both weren’t the best at socializing, but they were kind, and geeky, and Mettaton hadn’t appreciated them nearly enough.

At least.. at least with Shyren, he had a chance to. He had to take that chance. He just hoped this wouldn’t end like how it did with Napstablook.

“Uh, helloooo? I’ve been talking for the past two minutes.” Maddy tsked, tail swinging in her annoyance.

“..Sorry,” Mettaton sighed, snapping back to the present. “Are we here?”

Maddy rolled her eyes, ears flat against her head. “Yeah, man. We didn’t stop walking for nothing.”

Mettaton bristled at her sarcasm, he was not in the mood. “Hm.”

They stood, staring at the wooden door in front of them for a solid minute, surrounded by blue walls and even further surrounded by the ever-damp hellscape of Waterfall. Mettaton hated coming here. Hated it.

Maddy turned to Mettaton, eyes narrow, but face otherwise neutral. “I’m not opening the door for you this time.” 

“Do you have to be a bitch all the time?” Mettaton huffed, crossing his arms over his chest stiffly.

“Do you have to shuffle around like you witnessed a murder ‘all the time’?”

Oh. Okay. That was fucked up. Mettaton felt himself freeze, eyes raking over Madison’s face with disdain. Of course she didn’t know—no one did—but that didn’t make it hurt any less. And it wasn’t entirely accurate, but it was close enough that it felt like a personal attack. 

With an impatient flick of her tail, Maddy groaned. “Are we going in or what?”

“I-” Mettaton grimaced, tightening his grip on himself. “Can you give me a second, please?”

“Nah.” She laughed, finding a game in her torment.

“What the hell is your problem?!” Mettaton spat. He relented, though—as Maddy would only get more impatient—and he knocked on the door, stiff.

The door opened, just enough for Shyren to be visible. 

“..king,” She mumbled, barely audible, eyes droopy and colorless. 

She looked so dejected. He knew how she felt now, to lose someone so important to her. To have someone you’re so close to, that you love, and then they’re gone out of nowhere. 

Forever.

Trying to shake the feeling of emptiness digging its claws into him, Mettaton smiled down at Shyren. “Hello, my darling. I hope this isn’t a bad time. I came to ask if you’d.. like to work for me?” He spoke carefully, afraid he might be too intimidating.

The door opened further, Shyren peering up with wide eyes. 

“people..?” 

He’d forgotten how little she spoke. At first, he didn’t even really understand what she was asking.

Once it clicked, he laughed softly, still trying his best to appear like a normal, joyful, and sociable king. “Oh! No, no, of course not. You would just be my secretary.. if that’s alright with you.” 

“yes,” Shyren hummed, a polite smile on her face. “sounds nice..”

Mettaton returned the smile, though his was likely faltering. Hopefully she wouldn’t notice. “That's wonderful, darling! Would you mind signing this for me?” Mettaton took the contract out of Maddy’s hands, giving it to Shyren gently—along with his glitter gel pen, of course.

While Shyren was figuring out how to sign the document, due to her lack of hands, Mettaton turned to see Maddy with a sour look on her face. He raised a brow, questioning.

“You’re so rude to me, all the time—but you treat her so nicely. You’re so fake,” Maddy scoffed, voice low.

Mettaton rolled his eyes in return, copying her usual gesture. He didn’t give her a vocal reply—here was not the place to talk about this.

Maddy huffed once, and then gave up entirely. She seemed to share Mettaton’s sentiment, even if Maddy was the one who started it. Perhaps she wasn’t as socially inept as he thought, Mettaton could give her that—though she was a fool to think he was ‘fake.’ What a joke.

Once signed, Shyren gave the contract back to Mettaton, who passed it to Maddy. It’s like a bad game of telephone, Mettaton mused to himself.

“I usually give my employees pins for their clothes..” Mettaton grimaced, fully aware she didn’t wear such garments. “But for you! I made you a hairclip.” He leaned closer, carefully so as not to startle her, and clipped it to her fringe. 

Shyren’s smile warbled, and Mettaton couldn’t tell what that meant. It’d been so long, he’d forgotten all her mannerisms. “..it’s pink..”

“Mhm.” Mettaton nodded, perhaps a little frantically. Of course, he managed to choose a color she doesn’t like! “Is that okay? I can change the color, it’d just be a little painting-”

Shyren shook her head softly, interrupting him. “i like it..”

“That’s good to hear. Okay, one more thing-” Mettaton (truly) smiled, now, a pair of round glasses appearing in his grasp—tracing his finger on the familiar rim. They were Alphys', a spare she'd left behind. “..I thought they’d, you know, add to the ‘secretary’ look.”

Shyren looked a bit skeptical as she fumbled with the glasses, but once she had them on, her expression returned to normal. “thank you..” 

“Oh, no, thank you! I’ll leave you alone now, but my assistant will be in touch, okay?”

Shyren nodded in response, offering a wave before closing the door, the resulting thud making Mettaton jump.

Huh. He’d kind of forgotten he was just standing outside for that entire conversation.

As he turned to look at Maddy, her face was twisted in a way he couldn’t quite describe. Disgust, maybe? Contempt? The face a child makes when it tastes the juice of a lemon for the first time.

Oh. She was fuming. “Are you kidding? Are you actually joking?” Maddy laughed with no humor, stomping the opposite direction of the house. She was hugging herself tightly, her jagged, bitten down nails digging into the soft plush of her arms.

Mettaton sighed, more so groaned, running a palm down his face. “What, Maddy? What now?”

“The glasses. The way you’re treating her like a delicate little angel.” Maddy turned around to face him again, walking backwards as they got farther away from the house—snarling like a dog, ironically. “Did Alphys get sick of you? Is that why you’re having to replace her with Shyren?”

“I-” Mettaton gasped, almost choking on the humid air of Waterfall even without lungs. “What makes you think you can speak to me that way?”

“You’re not fucking scary, Mettaton. I don’t care if you’re the king. All that did was boost your ego further, which I didn’t even think was possible-” Maddy ranted, positioned like she was ready for a physical fight. “That’s beside the point. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with you?” Mettaton growled low in his throat, frustration and grief mounting into a flurry of panic. His eyes started to sting, and he would not cry right now, he wouldn’t, he wouldn’t. “You criticize everything I do, Maddy!”

“Because you deserve it!” Maddy—Madison—yelled, eyes blazing with her anger. She stood in a wide stance, attempting to appear more threatening. Mettaton knew it probably wasn’t a conscious choice. “You can’t just waltz back into everyone’s lives and expect them to welcome you with open arms just because you offered them a job!” 

“I’m. Trying!”

“Not hard enough! You shouldn't have left in the first place—I didn’t! No goddamn excuse in the world can justify you abandoning your fucking family!”

Mettaton began pacing, eye contact between the two lost. He couldn’t bear it anymore—the anger, the hurt in her eyes was too much. “It’s not that simple-”

“Yes, it is!”

“Fuck, you know what? I wasn’t going to tell anyone, but you just keep pushing.” Mettaton screamed, stomping like a toddler. He paused, reeling his volatile emotions in the best that he could. Otherwise, he’d never be able to say it out loud! No one would ever know! “I’ve already gotten what I deserved. You want to know why I have to ‘replace’ Alphys?” He lowered his voice to a near whisper, choking down the emotions swelling back up in his throat. “She’s dead, Madison.”

“What?” Madison stared blankly, eyes narrow like she was scrutinizing her words. Deciding if she believed them.

“She killed herself.”

“..This is, uh, a really insensitive joke.” Madison shook her head, pity in her gaze—but not because of Alphys’ suicide—because she thought he was so pathetic that he’d lie about it. “I didn’t think you would-”

“It’s not a fucking joke, Madison, she’s dead!” Mettaton yelled, voice box peaking and giving horrible, screeching feedback, which he paid no mind. “We watched the human kill Asgore, she told me she needed to think, and I haven’t seen her since. It’s been weeks. She’s not coming back. She’s dead.”

“Huh.” Madison hummed, considering. “Yeah, you know, that explains why you’ve been acting.. like this.”

Mettaton laughed, incredulous. He finally tells the truth and he gets fucking insulted in return. How could he expect anything else from Madison-Asshole-Extraordinaire. “Is that all you have to say? Not even a ‘sorry’?”

“What?” Maddy snapped, arms glued to her chest again, returning to the position she was in when Shyren first closed her door. “So your friend died. That doesn’t excuse how you’ve treated me.”

Mettaton sighed, looking up at the fake star-covered ceiling. Alphys wanted to see the real stars one day, but she never got the chance. This was the first he’d told anyone about her death, hopefully the last, and now all he felt was empty. He missed the joy of the lab, when it wasn’t eerie and silent, hollow. He missed when Mew Mew Kissy Cutie was Alphy’s thing, and not something co-opted and stolen by his cruelest family member. He missed her geeky-nerdy ramblings about things Mettaton hadn’t given a shit about. If only he could’ve recorded the conversations that now only exist in his memories. “..I.. I don’t want to continue this conversation.”

“Typical,” Maddy scoffed, but the venom in her voice had been lost minutes ago.

They walked back to the resort in silence, Maddy leading with her head down and lips sealed. She seemed at least slightly remorseful about the horrible things she’d said.

Good. 

Chapter Text

my life’s been pretty good, i’d say. i don’t really do much. yeah, it’s awesome. my brother, on the other hand.. not only does he represent mettaton, but shyren too, now. apparently her old talent agent bailed or something. he seems happy about it, though, so it’s whatever.

me? i don’t even know what a manager does. if i had to guess.. i manage.

i didn’t read the contract. too much work. it was, like, three pages.

don’t really think it matters anyway. mettaton sure doesn’t care whether or not i do my job. he’s busy. apparently. king stuff is hard, or so he says. but between you and me, i feeeel like there’s something else going on.

i’m also his favorite, so that’s another reason. i can do whatever i want and no one will call me out. 

well, uh, except mad mew mew. but all she does is yell at me. i can’t even take her seriously, anyway. 

because she’s possessing a life-sized anime catgirl doll.

yeah.

today, i’ve invited everyone (except miss hissy) to the “mtt-brand break room”. the posse, as i like to call it, is finally fully assembled, so. only right that i get us all together for a celebration. ish. it’s more like we just get to chill during our collective break. 

there’s jeirid, he’s mettaton’s assistant. mettaton doesn’t know his name, everyone else does. it’s funny. he’s chill. kind of always damp, though.

shyren and napstablook aren’t here. expected. they’re not the types to hang out with a group of strangers.

oddly enough, papyrus isn’t here either. what a guy. he’s got killer work ethic. 

so who else does that leave? well, ruins dummy is here. and he’s got arms now. that’s cool. 

catty and bratty walk in and immediately huddle on the floor in the corner. away from us. rude.

so. 

guess that leaves me, jeirid, and ruins dummy. this is an unfortunate turnout. 

ruins dummy looks around. i dunno, he seems pretty unimpressed. “Huh, I thought everyone was supposed to come.”

“yeah, i mean, i invited everyone. but, uh. clearly they didn’t want to hang.”

“That sucks. Kinda awkward now.”

jeirid sits next to me on the couch. he’s. just a little sweaty. a little. “Not really. Well, okay, it’s weird that the girls are just.. here.. and not talking to us. But it could be worse! Maddy could be here!”

“yeah. this is a pretty good group.”

“..Do you guys smoke?” okay. weird subject change. thanks, jeirid.

“Smoke what?” well, that got ruins dummy’s attention.

“...Marijuana..?”

that’s hilarious. the guy’s getting technical. “dude, why are you bein’ formal about it? weed. say weed.”

“Okay. Weed. Do you. Smoke weed.”

ruins dummy’s fully interested now. this is so funny. “I mean, out of a bong, yeah. I’m not really supposed to use lighters.. I’m very flammable.” 

“i’m open to anything, if i’m being honest.” hell, if i drink, i might as well smoke, right?

that’s actually terrible. don’t tell anyone i thought that. that’s how you fall down the heroin pipeline. i’m still gonna smoke, though, cause it’ll be really funny. 

jeirid looks like he’s gonna crumple up and die for literally no reason. “..Cool. New blunt rotation.”

“Bong rotation.” yeah, cause. as he said. you should never give a lighter to a guy made of cotton. 

“y’know, that was a really weird way to start a conversation. rewind a bit. how's life?”

“Oh, absolute trainwreck. I hate every bit of it. It was bad enough when I was flipping burgers, all day, every day, but now I’ve been promoted. I’m?? The King of the Underground’s assistant?? Why me?? Why is this happening to me??”

“he’s not so bad.”

“Of course you think that.” weird diss, jeirid. i have not a single clue what he’s alluding to, but his tone makes me think i.. should..?

“now what does that mean..”

“King Mettaton is a complete and total dickhead to everyone except, like,” he pauses like he’s thinking, but he’s looking at me the whole time. “It might just be you.”

“well, yeah. everyone knows that. but you’re being weird about it.”

now ruins dummy chimes in. “I think he like-likes you.” what is this, kindergarten?

this is an odd conversation to be having during my break. it came out of nowhere. these guys are really bad at small talk. whatever happened to talking about the nonexistent weather? 

anyway, i’m sure mettaton has a lot more to focus on than ‘like-liking’ me, so i’m pretty doubtful. it’s whatever, though. sure, i happen to ‘like-like’ him—

this is awful. it’s not even worth the bit. 

“..okay, man.” i don’t really want to humor ruins dummy. “so. how’ve you been.”

“Oh, pretty good! I have arms now. I can pick up my drinks!” 

yeah, he also frequents grillby’s. i’ve had the ‘pleasure’ of watching him figure out how to drink out of a glass with no arms. and let me say this now. grillby does not have straws. he should really invest, though. if ruins dummy didn’t originally have arms, who knows who else doesn't have them. 

“congrats.”

“Hey, does anyone know when our break ends?” jeirid asks the whole room, including the girls, apparently. they look at him like he just killed someone, then go back to whispering. 

“we got, like, 20 minutes left. at least.”

“Let’s say. Hypothetically. I ran home and got my bong. Would we still have time?”

“i mean, yeah. probably.” i have no idea. i don’t know where he lives.

“Okay! I’ll take that chance!” he stands up, and. well, he doesn’t really run. it’s more like he speed-shuffles his way out of the break room. sure, dude.

and then it’s just me and ruins dummy.

“so.”

“I really think you should act on the like-liking thing.”

“why do you keep saying it like that, man? we’re adults. we’re not in middle school.” it’s a pretty uncomfortable subject. so i’m trying to avoid it as best as i can.

“Look over there.” he points to catty and bratty gossiping in the corner.

huh. touché. very middle school.

i’m still gonna avoid the topic.

“you got me there, bud. but, uh. we’re not gonna circle back to that. let’s talk about somethin’ else.”

“Okay! Do you like poetry? I really fuck with Emily Darkinson.”

“..eehhh..” this guy really confuses me.

Chapter Text

The throne room was, of all things, a pretty okay place to spar. Not the greatest, but not the worst, either. Mettaton had moved any important furnishings out of the way, so that now the only thing standing between Maddy and Papyrus are large, towering pillars. Papyrus was deft on his feet, but he wasn’t quite familiar with the layout of the castle just yet. Maddy, for all of her enthusiasm, was a little clumsy, but she knew her way around the place. Dashing in and out, between columns, ducking, using the flowers to her leverage rather than slipping over the soft petals.

It was one thing after another. It was vicious. It was unabashed. For all that Papyrus was ─ a little daft, a little air-headed, a little dumb, put politely─he was a great fighter. Not that she hadn’t expected it; what is it now, the head of the Royal Guard? She doesn’t get paid to pay attention to that kind of thing anyway, but, come on. It’s Papyrus. How difficult an enemy could he be?

A damn good one when he wanted to be, apparently.

Maddy could hear wind rushing through the halls, the barrier close behind them, and it felt like blood coursing through her veins. 

But more than anything at all, this was awfully frustrating, because she just couldn’t seem to land a single hit on him. Despite his apparent incompetence, his unfamiliarity with the castle grounds, his general ineptitude in day-to-day life.

Actually, more than anything, it was pissing her off. The next time Maddy went to strike, her claws tore right through the bandage wrappings of her knuckles, poking holes in the fabric; it then quickly came undone, hastily wrapped bandages withering after all of this pinching and jostling—more enthusiasm than it was skill just yet.

Papyrus had stopped, then, presumably with sympathy for her position. Then it was the perfect opportunity to strike again. She paused, taking one deep breath, hunched as if she didn’t have the energy for anything else.

And then, with bandages flying past her vision as she raises her fist and winds it back, totally misses by a long shot.

“Oh! Come on!” She cried, keeping herself upright, barely, after sending herself careening into thin air. “Are you kidding me? How can you be so hard to hit?”

Papyrus only laughed at her predicament; though there’s nothing cruel about it. If he had cheeks and skin around his mouth, she could only assume he’d be smiling, too. 

“It’s not fair─” she interjected, before he could part his jaw, “you’re not even fighting back!”

“WELL,” something in his tone tells Maddy he’d be downright grinning if he could. “LIKE YOU SAID, IT WOULD NOT BE FAIR.” It’s not often that Maddy ever considers that Papyrus ─ sweet, naive, stupid, frustrating Papyrus ─ could ever have a single duplicitous bone in his body, but right now it feels like he’s made up of them. “THAT IS THE CHALLENGE, IS IT NOT? A TRUE MASTER MUST LEARN NOT ONLY TO ATTACK.. BUT THE PURSUIT.”

“To hell with the pursuit!”

She cracks her knuckles, hastily re-wrapping her bandages and tucking them into each other so they don’t come loose. The next time she goes to strike, she’s clocked over the back of the head with something firm. It made her pause in her tracks when she heard Mettaton snort, trying his very best to keep himself from laughing, Papyrus looking off into the distance and whistling an off tune. Must have been the wind. When she whipped her head around to see exactly what it was, she’s quick enough to see the tail end of a bone disappearing.

Unfortunately, Papyrus seems to have seen this as the perfect opening ─ the little machiavellist. Another bone crashed into her side before she’d known it, sending her stumbling into the wall.

“You─”

“THIS IS WHAT YOU WANTED, ISN’T IT? FOR ME TO FIGHT BACK?”

Rather than giving a comprehensive, coherent argument, Maddy bared her teeth and growled.

“PERHAPS WE SHOULD STOP FOR NOW,” he suggested, lightly, as though treading dangerous waters, “AND FIX YOUR WRAPPINGS.”

Stubborn as she may have been, Maddy is not stupid enough to ignore a liability. Especially not when he’s giving her an out. “..Yeah, I─ Okay, fine, whatever.”

When Papyrus let his guard down, she decided that just then was the perfect time. And much like all the perfect times to come before, he was revoltingly swift with it, dodging by a hair. “AH. YOU’RE GETTING CLOSER,” he exclaimed, though his voice swelled and peaked with genuine surprise.

“Stop encouraging me!”

Papyrus is not deterred by this, though; unfortunately. “I SENSE GREATNESS WITHIN YOU, MADELINE ─ BUT I HAVE SOMETHING THAT YOU DON’T.” Kneeling in front of her as he took his paws into his own hands, gingerly undoing the wrappings.

Maddy arched a brow, watching his phalanges skim across her wrists, redoing her bandages in a much more practiced manner. “Years of training,” she noted. A pretty clear disadvantage. “A complete lack of personal safety, and weirdly fast reflexes?”

“YES.  BUT—HEY.” Warning, he tipped his jaw at her as she looked away, giggling; who could have said that? Must have also been the wind. “PATIENCE, MADELINE.”

“That’s not even my name.”

“TOMATO, TOMATO.”

“You used the exact same pronunciation,” Mettaton chimed in from the floor. Maddy let her head fall back against a pillar on the throne dais with a thud; for just a few blissful moments, she managed to forget that he was ever there. He was ‘spectating’, apparently, but he was just sitting on the floor with his knees to his chest. Looking sad and lame. As per usual.

"PATIENCE," Papyrus continued, undeterred, "DISCIPLINE," Okay, that one felt targeted. Maddy’s whole face scrunched up.

"Is that what you call it these days?" she countered, mock-serious.

"I CALL IT HOW IT IS." Maddy made a noncommittal sound, like she didn’t really believe him. Mettaton rolled his eyes. “YEARS OF TRAINING. DEDICATION. A RIGOROUS SCHEDULE THAT I FOLLOW TO THE SECOND.”

That sounds more in line for him; dedication rather than self-preservation. Maddy is half-sure he'd give someone the skin off of his back, had it been their last dying wish. Maybe that's how he became a skeleton, she mused, boredly, to herself.

When he'd finished wrapping the bandages and tying it into bows, she stretched her paws out in front of her, retracted her claws, tested it out. Just then, she wondered why she'd ever thought about going through with this all in the way that she had ─ it must really hurt to punch bone full-throttle. Oh boy, it would sure be useful to have something else to attack with right about now!

Then came her opportunity. "ROUND TWO," Papyrus proclaimed as he stood, stretching his legs, bending at the knees behind his back, as if he needed it. Before she was even up and on her feet, she was being clocked left and right with Papyrus’ bone attacks.

But she was no fool! In fact, having grown used to it (even after getting startled by the first few), Maddy reached out and wrapped both of her hands around one of these bones, giving it a few swings to test out the weight of it in her palms. She stood a little taller, and Papyrus made an observational hum, but hadn’t said anything. 

Getting back into the swing of things was easy. Maddy, with a little more drive, was able to jump and duck and dodge left and right and whichever way, steeply missing attacks thrown at her as she raised both of her hands above her head and beat down at Papyrus. Hell, she even managed to get a hit or two in!

In fact, they’d both been so engrossed in this all, that they hadn’t even noticed when Mettaton rose, patting down his pocket as he searched for his buzzing cell phone.

Chapter Text

As he left the throne room, Mettaton fumbled for his phone. They could fend for themselves just fine—it wasn’t like he was participating, so why stay and waste his precious time? He only had so much. 

He accepted the call, putting it on speaker without checking who it was, and started the very tedious journey back to ‘his’ house. 

It was Asgore’s, of course, everyone knew that. And even though he had remodeled it like he planned, it still felt off. Haunted. That made sense, he supposed. But it was still just slightly uncomfortable—not to the point that he’d rather be in the lab, though. Of course not. The lab.. it was actually haunted. Every time he set foot in that cold, so very empty building, he felt like he could hear Alphys. On her computer, or skittering around, or working on something cool. But it was still empty, so empty. Sometimes, if he stayed there long enough, he’d hear her call his name. For a moment he’d think it was real, and forget she hasn’t been there—alive—in a long time, and he’d go to the source and see nothing but cobwebs.

“..hello? mettaton?” Sans’ voice shocked him back to reality. Okay, perhaps he should have checked the contact name, that was.. a little scary. 

Recovering from his surprise, Mettaton cleared his throat. “Sorry, were you saying something?”

“yeah, i was asking if you have time to talk.”

“Like.. in person, or..?”

“preferably.”

“I.. I mean, yeah, I have time. I’m on my way home right now, so—”

“i’m kind of in front of your house already.”

What the hell? “What?”

“i planned ahead.”

“Okay.. Well, I’ll see you soon, then.”

It was a good thing there wasn’t that much space between the throne room and the house. Not like the space between the throne room and the CORE. That took two elevators and an excruciatingly long walk. 

This only took a mildly-painfully-long walk. The Last Corridor would’ve been a nice break from the boring, dull greys of the rest of New Home.. if not for the group of monsters working there. They were mapping out the space needed for the statue of Alphys he’d commissioned. 

A few stopped to point him out, like ‘Hey, look, it’s the King!’. It only irritated him further. Why couldn’t he disappear at will? Life would be much easier if he only existed when he wanted to. Which, admittedly, wasn’t often these days—but still. 

He felt like he was dragging his feet from point A to point B─nothing like what one would expect from, surely, the most regal, the most noble; the King. How disgraceful of him, to put shame to such a title. He watched as his feet skimmed the ground, soundless as metal raked across the plush golden petals beneath him.

When Mettaton arrived home, he placed his crown on the bookshelf next to the staircase. He didn't quite care for it—he was never one for those (surprisingly dull, in the crown’s case) golds. He liked jewelry, of course, but he preferred silver. It matched the rest of him. 

He slowly, slowly inched towards the front door.. as if there was some kind of murderer outside. Which, of course, he knew wasn’t true—but the paranoia of being both the king and the Underground’s only celebrity had really taken a toll on him. Who knows who could be around any corner, waiting to strike the moment he let his guard down?

Eventually, he opened the door. Yeah, as expected, there was Sans, just standing there. As far as Mettaton was aware, Sans was yet to murder. He had the same dumb smile on his face as he always had.

Sans gave a light wave, tucking his hands into his pockets afterwards.“hey.”

“Hi.”

“can i come in? ‘s kinda important.” You could’ve at least made it sound the slightest bit important, Mettaton mused to himself, but he felt beyond nitpicking Sans’ cadence. 

“..Sure, yeah. Whatever.” Mettaton conceded easily, stepping aside to let Sans in, then closing the door behind him.

“uh, wow. i like what you’ve done to the place.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm, but Mettaton really didn’t have the energy to bite back, choosing to ignore it instead.

He led Sans to the living room, where Asgore’s old, ratty chair was replaced with a fancy and very regal-looking chaise lounge which Sans took the liberty of kicking his feet up on, half-laying with his hands behind his head. Mettaton, initially, had raised a brow at him, but opted to let it slide—the image was a little funny, anyways, wasn’t it? Sprawled out across only the most stately of furniture laid Sans, in his stupid blue hoodie, with its stupid ketchup stains.

Sans’ head lolled to the side, eyes struggling to find something to focus on. They eventually just found Mettaton’s again, whilst Sans twiddled his thumbs. “so, uh. ‘bout a week ago, i heard something.. pretty interesting from your publicist.” 

“Ruins Dummy?” Mettaton’s face twisted, a mix of suspicion and displeasure, “Since when is he a gossip?”

“ehh, it wasn’t gossip. not really,” Sans huffed a breath of laughter, shaking his head. ”it was somethin’ about you.”

“Me?” Mettaton hoped, maybe even prayed, that Ruins Dummy hadn’t spilled the… ‘ghost beans.’

“yeah, he said, uh—now this is going to be in his words, not mine—he thinks you ‘like-like’ me.” Sans seemed to cringe as he said it, hopefully more because of the wording than anything else. 

“Oh.” At least it wasn’t about his pre-Mettaton life, that would’ve been much, much worse.

Sans didn’t seem to be a fan of that response, eyes faltering in their focus on Mettaton’s every facial movement. “oh?”

Mettaton opened his mouth and closed it a few times, trying to find the words he wanted to say. Eyes wide, he was slightly aware that he probably looked like a fish. “I just.. wasn’t expecting that.”

“was he right..?”

“Do you want him to be?”

Blue dusted the top of Sans’ cheekbones, hands fiddling with the arms of the chair. “well, if i’m being honest, i’ve been into you for a while.”

“..So..”

“i wouldn’t be opposed to a relationship.. if you do, uh. ‘like-like’ me.” 

Mettaton blinked—this was all so absurd, and yet, he couldn’t stop himself from smiling. Looking away, bashful, he lifted a hand to cradle his own cheek. Despite himself, he felt it warm beneath his fingertips—being made of metal and magic sure had its pros and cons, huh? “..Yeah. That would be nice.” 

“cool.” Sans’ smile brightened infinitesimally, looking smug. 

They stayed in silence for a few minutes, staring at each other. It was growing a little awkward—for Mettaton, at least. Sans looked unbothered.

“Um.. what now?”

Sans shrugged, “i dunno, i didn’t plan this far.”

“So, what, you just wanted to confront me about being in love with you, then leave?”

“well, i don’t want to leave- did you say you’re in love with me?”

Mettaton furrowed his eyebrows. “..Yes?” Was that not obvious?

Sans’ eyes scanned Mettaton’s face, his mouth falling slightly open in his shock. “wow.”

“That’s.. what we just talked about.”

“love’s a strong word. i didn’t think you felt like that.. wow.”

Mettaton shrunk in on himself, leaning against the wall behind him. “I can’t tell what tone you’re using.”

“no, no, this is- this is a good thing.” Sans chuckled, face gleeful. “i’m just. wow.”

“I’m.. I’m confused.”

“i just thought you had a crush on me or something.”

Mettaton laughed, face warm. “No, it’s worse than that, I think.”

“worse?” Sans held his arms out, an invitation. “c’mere, man, stop standing there all weird.”

Mettaton accepted it, falling into the embrace of Sans.

They ended up in some cuddling-ish position. It may have been slightly uncomfortable, but Mettaton would’ve rather died than moved.

“We never really.. talked.. until, I don’t know.. A couple months ago? So.. it didn’t feel normal.”

“hey, the heart wants what it wants.”

Mettaton sighed, snuggling closer. “..Neither of us have hearts.”

“close enough.”

Mettaton smiled, wrapping his arms tighter around Sans. It was nice, it felt so normal. It didn’t feel real—not after everything that had happened. As he thought about it, something built within him. He shouldn’t be allowing himself this moment. Did he deserve normal? Deserve niceties—after all that’s happened?

Before he knew it, he was sobbing, burying his face into the soft blue fabric of Sans’ hoodie. 

Sans’ eyes widened, surprise etched on every part of his face. “wha- what’s wrong?”

Mettaton felt like he couldn’t speak, responding instead with an ugly wail, black tears blotting sky blue.

“mettaton, what’s wrong?”

“I- I don’t- I-” Mettaton paused in an attempt to catch his breath, failing and instead letting out another sob, “I’ve just been-” His breaths were coming in quick, hardly finishing before the next began. He was panicking, he thought, and even though he technically didn’t need oxygen to live, it felt like it was the only thing keeping him from death.

“hey, hey,” Sans hushed, arms tightening around Mettaton’s shoulders.

“I don’t- want- to be alone anymore, please don’t let me be alone,”

“you’re not,” Sans tried to comfort, a hand running through the thick black strands of Mettaton’s hair, soothing. “i’ve told you before, and i mean it, i’m always here for you.”

Mettaon was wailing, broken up only by his sniffling and hyperventilating. He felt he could not answer.

“i really care about you, mettaton. i wouldn’t be here if i didn’t.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t- I don’t know why I always end up crying when we-”

“shh, shh.”

“I’m sorry,”

“it’s fine. you’re not doin’ too well. i get it.” 

Mettaton laughed brokenly, hiding his face in Sans’ neck. “This is an awful first date.”

“ehh..” Sans huffed a laugh, “..i’m not gonna disagree with that.”

“I’m sorry, I’m-”

“stop apologizing. it’s okay.”

“I- I- I keep falling apart on you,”

“mettaton, look at me.”

Mettaton sniffled, lifting his chin to peer up into Sans’ eyes. He only hoped he didn’t look as bad as he felt.

“you’re okay. you’re not alone.” Sans held Mettaton’s face, gently. Like he was something precious.

“Please don’t leave me.” His voice came out small, terrified. It was so stupid of him to act like this, but he couldn’t be left alone again. He couldn’t.

“we only just became official, like, five minutes ago.”

Mettaton giggled, trying his best to blink away the tears welling up. Sans was always so funny. 

“what, am i gonna get up to go home, and you’re gonna start crying again?”

Mettaton laughed fully, with his chest, thundering out of his speakers.

Sans laughed too, his smile returning to its full glory. “there you are,” He said, with a tone Mettaton had never even heard before. It made him feel so.. safe.

“Ahah- hm?”

“this is the mettaton i remember. you’d laugh at everything i said, even if it wasn’t that funny.”

Mettaton giggled again, resisting the urge to lean in and kiss those pearly whites.

“see? you have an awful sense of humor,” Sans chuckled, tugging at a strand of Mettaton’s hair playfully.

Mettaton hummed, pressing his lips to Sans’ cheekbone softly, before pulling back again to resume eye-contact.

Sans was staring at Mettaton like he was made of gold, like he was the one who made the false-stars that twinkled all across the underground, “you okay now?”

“..Yeah. Thank you.”

Chapter Text

A few days had passed since Mettaton and Sans became a.. thing. And unlike he expected, Sans hadn't filled the emptiness within him.

It was an inconvenience at best, damaging at worst. Nothing would fix him, it seemed. He couldn't understand it—he'd been in love with Sans for such a long time, why didn't this make him happy? Why didn't anything make him happy? Was he doomed to feel hollow forever?

He was okay, he was fine, with Alphys. But when she left, it felt like something shattered. Irreparably. He thought maybe, maybe, Sans could save him—but it didn't work, it didn't stick. He wondered if any chance of joy he could’ve had died with Alphys—or even before that, maybe. The day Undyne was dead, Alphys was dead, Mettaton should’ve been counted among them. Sure, he was alive physically—but emotionally, he felt about as much as Asgore did, nowadays. Oh, how ironic. King like king.

Why did it have to be Alphys? Why couldn't anyone else have killed themself in response to Undyne and Asgore's deaths? It wasn't fair. No one was there for him anymore. Of course he had Sans, but he couldn't rely on him, that'd only push him away. Mettaton had seen it before. Either he'd do it himself, or Sans would get sick of him. 

That was always how it went. Alphys, too—but it was both. He'd pushed her away, and she got sick of him. And he was the only one to blame. All he had to do was treat her with the love and respect she deserved. He couldn't even do that, and look where it got him—now he'd never be able to make up for his wretched behavior. Alphys made him feel alive, and he took that for granted. Now she was gone, and he might as well be too. 

Part of him blamed himself. He could've been a much better friend, and maybe she wouldn't have left. If she knew he still loved and cared for her, she wouldn't have thought she was alone. She wouldn't have thought it was her only option. She wouldn’t have thought Undyne was the only thing worth living for. Why not him, too? He knew why—he was cruel to her far too often, kind far too rarely. He would’ve come to the same conclusion, if he were her.

There was nothing left for him. How was he supposed to go on without her?

Chapter Text

The Underground looked great, really. With each passing month, it became more beautiful, more sparkly, more perfect—more and more like its king, like Mettaton.

And yet.

Even if he knew, objectively, he was the most stunning, gorgeous monster in the entire Underground.. it didn’t feel right. Seeing his own face everywhere was supposed to make him happy. It was supposed to boost his own ego—but how could it, when he hated himself? Every time he saw a stupid billboard with his stupid face on it, all he could see was every flaw, even when no one else seemed to be able to. And he hated that he thought that way, too—how could he hate Alphys’ greatest creation? 

At least, as Snowdin Forest became quieter and quieter, emptier and emptier, that meant it wasn’t as affected. It still looked like a cold, creepy forest, stagnant around so much change. 

As he approached the door to the Ruins, Mettaton stiffened. He hadn’t been here since he was looking for Alphys, months ago—but it felt like just yesterday. It felt like he was still waiting for her to come back.

Whatever. There was no time to think about that now, because it was freezing, and he wanted to get out of the cold as fast as possible. He shivered, air vents releasing swirls into the frosty, humid air.

So he went through the door, cursing the two impossibly long hallways ahead of him. This was the place Ruins Dummy chose to live in for the rest of his ‘life’? Seriously? He couldn’t have chosen anywhere else?—perhaps, somewhere less dreary?

Eventually, he made it up the basement stairs. And to his surprise—all three of his cousins were already there. It made sense, obviously, because he lived the furthest away now, but it only made him feel more like he didn’t belong. They’d worked together for months now, and he still wasn’t close with any of them. Maddy hated him openly, he was lucky if he could make small talk with Napstablook, and Ruins Dummy was indifferent to him, at best. Ruins Dummy seemed to just.. stare through them all, like they weren’t really there. Mettaton guessed that’s what happened to someone who had been alone for so many years. He, at least, had Alphys after he left.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” Maddy spat. She always had something to say.

Mettaton huffed, rolling his eyes. “You live in Snowdin. I live in New Home.”

He knew he should’ve just ignored her—but he was right! Of course he had to defend himself!

Maddy shrugged, dismissing Mettaton’s existence by looking at her (very jagged) nails, instead. “Then come early.”

In a clear attempt to de-escalate the quickly building argument, Ruins Dummy held his arms out. “Guys, let’s go hang out in the living room! And not be, like, leaning on the railing!” 

Mettaton relented, of course, sighing as he allowed Ruins Dummy to lead everyone into the living room. Clearly, he’d been redecorating, but it still looked like someone else’s house. Which it was. Like cousin, like cousin, Mettaton supposed. Always living in other people’s houses—even Maddy. Apparently, she lived under Sans and Papyrus’ sink..?

So the only Blook who had their own place, now, was Napstablook. That checked out—they always were the overachiever of the bunch.

Ruins Dummy stopped, clapping his hands together as he spun around to face them all. “So what’s up, guys?”

“What is this for?” Maddy’s tail thumped against the ground, arms crossed on her chest as they typically were nowadays, accompanied by a scowl.

Ruins Dummy waved a ‘hand,’ more like a nub, Mettaton mused to himself. “Can a guy not invite his cousins over to chat anymore?” 

Maddy’s scowl deepened, eyebrows furrowing in question. “You invited Mettaton, though.”

Trying not to engage, Mettaton focused his attention on Napstablook, who seemed enthralled by the previous homeowner’s snail books. Seems they weren’t interested in the conversation either, but probably for a much different reason. They hadn’t gotten comfortable around him yet—part of him thought they never would. 

“Is he.. not my cousin?” Ruins Dummy sounded genuinely confused, nubs stiff beside his pillowy body.

Maddy tsked, “That doesn’t mean you have to invite him. He makes the vibes weird.”

“That’s not nice,” Ruins Dummy chided, muppet-like mouth open in a poor imitation of Maddy’s scowl. Poor guy didn’t have any teeth.

Maddy shrugged, movement making a pigtail unpleasantly graze Mettaton’s shoulder. “It’s the truth!”

Ruins Dummy returned to his common dumb smile, resting his hand-things together on his chest, nub in nub, as if he was teaching a valuable lesson. “Sometimes the truth isn’t very nice, and you need to keep it to yourself..”

“Sometimes I want to punch you,” Maddy readied herself as if she was actually going to—and Mettaton really hoped she wouldn’t.

Ruins Dummy returned to the same blank stare he always wore. “Okay.” Bit of an underreaction, but whatever.

Mettaton, however, was tired of this. “God, do you just want me to leave? You’re squabbling like children.” 

“Yes!” Maddy jumped to say, pigtail slapping Mettaton again. Sometimes, Mettaton wanted to rip her hair out.

Ruins Dummy fake laughed loudly, sending a glare Maddy’s way. “No, this is my house, and you should stay.”

Mettaton didn’t think anyone was questioning who owned the house in the first place, but.. well, was it Ruins Dummy’s house? Whatever. Not important. However, he never remembered Ruins Dummy going anywhere except for Grillby’s before the previous homeowner disappeared..

They stood in silence, aside from Maddy doing the cat-doll-thing equivalent to huffing and puffing like the big bad wolf.

Breaking the metaphorical ice—though obsidian, or even lava rock, may be more accurate—Ruins Dummy spoke gleefully through the tension. “So, uh.. uhh.. you guys watch any good shows lately?”

Maddy huffed again. “The only thing on TV is Mettaton.”

“That's your fault for watching cable,” Mettaton mumbled, trying to stop himself from rolling his eyes out of his head—which was entirely possible for a robot, by the way. These screens were very precious to him.

Maddy’s head snapped to glare him down. “It’s like you intentionally try to piss me off every time you speak to me.”

“I-” Mettaton paused, breathing through his nose in an attempt to tamper down the anger flaring in his chest. “Is it such a crime to try and banter with my family?”

“It’s a crime when you’re annoying.”

“What the hell is your problem, Madison?”

“You! You are my problem! You’re such a cunt! And you expect all of us to just be okay with it! ‘Waaah, being the king is so much woooork!’ Get over it!”

Mettaton inhaled sharply. Breathe, he reminded himself. In and out. In and out. Don’t murder one of the few family members you have left. “I’ve tried my hardest to be civil with you, I really have—”

“Oh? Oh, really? When? When you screamed at me in public? When you got all pissy because I dared to call you something other than ‘kind and benevolent King Mettaton’?” Maddy’s voice slowly grew in volume, until she was truly just yelling in Mettaton’s face. Her hair was becoming quite disheveled from how she pulled at it, her frustration mounting. “When I told Napstablook who you were, and you acted like I was the fucking devil?” 

Mettaton bared his teeth, metal glinting in the dim lights Ruins Dummy had in this god-forsaken living room. “Yes! You make it so goddamn hard!”

“Okay, I think I get it now.” Maddy began, tone mocking. “I’m reasonably upset at you for cutting all of us off, and I’m supposed to treat you like a fragile little baby anyway? Is that it?”

Mettaton steeled his gaze, staring down on her metaphorically and literally. “You have no right to be speaking to the King that way.” 

“um.. guys..” Napstablook butted in, and they might as well have whispered it, the way Mettaton and Maddy both ignore it entirely.

“I am your superior and you will act like it.”

Maddy checked her wrist like there’s a watch there. There isn’t. “As far as I’m aware, I’m not clocked in.”

“I’m always your superior, Madison, I rule the entire Underground! You’re such an entitled bitch, you think my status doesn’t apply to you just because you’re ‘family’.” Mettaton scoffed, waving at her dismissively—like she was nothing but a moth, clinging to his light, his warmth, for survival. “Some family—I’d say we’re only connected by last name, but we aren’t, are we, ‘Mad Mew Mew’?” 

Madison narrowed her eyes, a smile appearing on her face, and then disappearing just as quick. Smug. “Sure, Hapstablook, we’re super disconnected.”

Mettaton struggled to control the anger that took hold of him the very moment that name escaped her lips. “You just don’t know when to fucking quit, do you?”

Mettaton decided then, well, perhaps she needed to be taught when to quit. So, he electrocuted her—and, oh my, the satisfaction that filled him the moment she fell to the ground was wondrous. No more annoying blabbering—for now, at least.

“Oh, hey, I didn’t know you could do that!” Ruins Dummy, unbothered as always.

Napstablook’s eyes were pitiful, something sad, something regretful, maybe. “what the.. why.. did you..?”

Mettaton glanced between the three others in the room—including the unconscious one, of course. “..She deserved it.” 

“no, she didn’t..” Napstablook chided, though it wasn’t harsh whatsoever. Mettaton wasn’t sure they had the ability to be harsh. Napstablook frowned, floating closer to Maddy to check on her.

“You know what? How about we all regroup, uh.. tomorrow! I think we’ve hung out enough for today.” 

“Fine,” Mettaton spat. Did Ruins Dummy or Napstablook deserve to be treated harshly just because Madison Mew Mew was a.. displeasure to be around, to put it lightly? No, of course not, and Mettaton knew this. So he did the responsible thing, and left, stomping down the stairs.. maybe leaving dents in the wood. 

Mettaton came back to himself outside of the house, once he was finally alone. He let some of the tension out of his limbs, shaking his head to rid himself of the memories of that horrid family gathering, which didn’t work. Obviously. He felt exhausted, legs ready to drop at any moment—but his battery was completely fine. He wouldn’t need to charge until much later that night, so why was he so tired?

Mettaton had cancelled all of his appointments for the day in preparation for this gathering. Now, with the gathering over much earlier than he thought it’d be, he had nothing to do. So he went where his feet carried him.

Sans. He was standing out of Sans’ house. Mettaton’s boots crunched in the snow, fidgeting. Of all places..? Well, it’s not like he could go to Alphys anymore, with her being.. dead and all. Mettaton could only assume his body knew best, and knocked on the door.

Chapter Text

Papyrus opened the door, darkness of his eyes peering into Mettaton’s. His face broke out into a wide smile, clearly excited to see Mettaton.

Angel above, of all people to encounter today. Why couldn’t Sans live alone? Even Mettaton lived on his own, nowadays. Sans needed to follow suit, or even move in with Mettaton, if he was so inclined.

“HI, KING M-” Papyrus couldn’t even get a whole sentence out before the familiar sight and sound of electricity crackling overwhelmed Mettaton’s senses.

Honestly, it even surprised him, the involuntary electrocution. It happened more and more these days, but it wasn’t any less jarring. 

What wasn’t surprising, however, was that Papyrus was still standing, and looked to be completely fine. He’d tanked multiple shocks from that stupid maze in Snowdin, of course he’d still be up and about after one. Mettaton couldn’t tell if that was disappointing to him or not.

Maybe Maddy was just weak. She hadn’t been fully connected to her chosen form for long, after all.

“..UH..” Papyrus started, after they had stood in silence for far too long. “I TAKE IT YOU’RE NOT HERE FOR ME?” 

Mettaton felt his anger flare once again, posture stiff. “Move!” 

“OKAY!” Papyrus chimed, smile turned awkward. Mettaton’s would too, if he were electrocuted at random.
Mettaton walked in, now that Papyrus was out of the way—a cold draft following him inside. He felt himself calm ever so slightly, knowing soon he could be calm—soon he could be normal—with his arms wrapped around his boyfriend.

But. Sans wasn’t in there. Mettaton’s entire body tensed, frustration overwhelming him. He turned slowly back to face Papyrus, eye twitching. “Where is your brother?”

“HE’S UPSTAIRS, PROBABLY NAPPING.. AS PER USUAL.. NOTHING EVER GETS DONE AROUND HERE..” Papyrus complained, pointing up towards Sans’ door with one mitten-clad hand.

Mettaton could feel the electricity coursing through his fingertips, though he tried to keep it at bay, even as he snapped vocally. “I don’t need your entire life story.” He turned sharply, needing to get away from Papyrus NOW, marching up the steps two at a time.

When Mettaton finally reached Sans’ bedroom door, he didn’t bother knocking. He instead opened it without warning, forcefully, the door itself slamming into the wall.
Sans appeared only slightly surprised to see him, eyes wider than normal, but barely. 

“..hey.” Sans greeted, raising a hand to give a casual wave. “what’s up?”

Mettaton grit his teeth, something between a whine and a growl rumbling from his throat. “Everyone is so goddamn annoying! Madison thinks she’s so much better than me. And she isn’t! She’s a massive bitch who acts like everything I do is some kind of personal attack on her!”

Sans’ eyes widened again, more than when Mettaton had burst into his room. “uh, wow, that’s a lot-”

“I can’t take it anymore. It’s like I can’t do anything right, no matter how hard I try! And—I do try! No one gives me any credit for it!” Mettaton interrupted, trying his best to not accidentally electrocute Sans. He could still feel it—He could feel it escaping him incrementally without his control, could feel it buzzing in the air and making his powerlon hair staticy. 

Sans was frowning, as much as is possible for such a monster. He moved to sit up straight on the edge of his bed, watching Mettaton intently. “hey-”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I hired all these people for support, but it’s like they’re putting me under a microscope—and I just- I’m sick of it!” Mettaton borderline yelled, hands pulling at his hair—which of course, stuck to the metal of his arms with static electricity. If he could grow hair, like a human can, he’d rip it all out, just for the satisfaction of it! “Everyone makes mistakes, and it’s fine to call people out on them, but when I try to, everyone’s like ‘but you’re so much worse than me!’ So what? I can’t have an opinion on how much of a bitch you are?”

Sans tried again, raising his hands as if to show surrender. “uh-”

“But you!” Mettaton cried, falling to his knees in front of Sans. He leaned forward, resting his face on Sans’ thigh, looking up at him as if he were a god Mettaton was worshipping. “You don’t do any of that. You make me feel normal.”

Sans’ hands were in the air, awkward and unsure. “uh.. you’re.. welcome?”

“That’s why I’m here—” Mettaton paused. He felt like he was suffocating, even without lungs in his chest; or oxygen, or blood. “I need you to make me feel normal! I feel like- like I’m dying.”

“how do i.. do that?” Sans sighed, one hand coming to rest in Mettaton’s hair, fingers running through the black strands.

“I don’t know. I thought you would know. Just- I- talk to me.” Mettaton sighed, closing his eyes. Living in the warmth of Sans’ arms only.

“..okay. uh. so, today was pretty boring. no work, and you said you wouldn’t be around, so i kinda just did nothing all day. ‘s fine, though.” Sans rambled, and Mettaton felt himself grow drowsier at the sound of Sans’ uninterrupted talking. “a much-needed break, if you ask me.” 

Mettaton tried his best to let his emotions simmer down. Let them fly away with the wind, or whatever it is that normal monsters say, but they just wouldn’t. He still felt like he was dying—like the wires throughout his body were both not getting enough power, and simultaneously being overwhelmed by sheer electricity, to the point of catching fire.

Sans chuckled; a sound Mettaton would have loved to catch in a jar, to listen to for the rest of time. His favorite song. “y’know, i’m actually glad you’re here.. even if you showed up yelling about how much you hate everyone.”

Mettaton let out a heavy breath, arm twitching to hold Sans’ hand. He opened his eyes, searching Sans’ face. For what, though, he wasn’t sure. “Hm?”

“i missed you, man.” Sans’ eyes were staring at the floor, now, blue dusting his cheekbones. “is that weird? we’ve only been dating for, like, two weeks.”

Mettaton lifted his head off of Sans’ lap, crossing his arms over his thighs instead. “I miss you every second we’re not together.”

“..oh. huh.” Sans looked.. thoughtful, perhaps, eyes moving to stare at Mettaton’s hands.

Mettaton felt something in his chest drop, rushing to correct his mistake with a forced laugh. “Sorry, maybe that was weird..”

“nah, it’s just like-” Sans took a second to think, eyes shifting to Mettaton’s face at last. “you’re so intense. it’s crazy.”

Now that Sans’ hand was out of his hair, Mettaton took the chance to fix it a little. He ran his own hands through, combing it to its normal shape. If only he had his hair tools.. “Yeah, that’s.. kind of my thing?”

Silence overtook the room, Mettaton fighting back the familiar growing stinging in his eyes.

“..I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do. Nothing makes anyone happy. I try to be nice to Madison, and she thinks I’m attempting to make her mad on purpose!” Mettaton’s frown was heavy, hands clutching to the fabric of Sans’ shorts. “I just want to be her friend!”

“well.. she’s not super nice herself.” Sans reasoned, hands coming to rest on both of Mettaton’s shoulder. A welcome weight.

“I know. She refuses to treat me with any sort of decency or respect—and that’s all I’m asking for!”

Sans nodded, and though he was trying to pretend that he cared about this particular conversation, it was obvious he was bored. “uh huh.”

Mettaton’s eyebrows furrowed, hands drawing back to himself. “This isn’t interesting?”

Sans hummed, shrugging lazily. “nah, not really.”

“Oh.”

“how are you having work drama outside of work?”

“We.. we’re..” Mettaton began, struggling to get the words to form on his tongue, artificial as it were. “It’s not important.”

“okay.”

They sat in silence again, far less comfortable this time around, but it wasn’t exactly uncomfortable.

Sans released a long breath, tickling Mettaton’s cheek. “how are you feeling now?”

“Better. Still on edge,” Mettaton released a long breath too, mimicking Sans. He let a smile grace his face, resisting the urge to tackle Sans in a hug. “But you’re helping. I love you.”

Sans returned the smile, leaning forward to wrap his arms around Mettaton. He didn’t say it back, but—but Mettaton gave him the benefit of the doubt. It likely just slipped his mind or something. Sans loved him. He had to.

Mettaton forced himself to return to his previous train of thought. His eyes were burning again, just a little. “..I’m so tired of being so angry. It’s draining. And it doesn’t make me feel any better once I’ve gotten my rage out. It just makes me exhausted.” 

“i don’t like it when you’re like this either.” Sans shrugged again, moving a hand to cup Mettaton’s cheek. “it’s not you.”

“Nothing feels like ‘me’ anymore,” Mettaton mumbled, leaning into the cold bone pressed against his metal.

Sans tilted his head in question, “nothing?”

Mettaton sighed, wistful. He turned his head, kissing Sans’ fingers one by one. “Except being with you. I wish we could be together forever.” 

“forever’s a long time.”

“I know.”

Chapter Text

Mettaton posed. Cameras flashed. He was getting antsy, posing growing stiff. He had an interview in an hour, thanks to Sans filling his entire schedule today.

The photographer—an up-and-comer, apparently—snapped her fingers, on one hand of six. “Only ten minutes left, dearie. Quit being so tense.. ahuhu.”

This had been where Muffet had been since the king fell, Mettaton could presume. Mettaton hadn’t known this photographer, who was well liked in the industry, rumored to have the best skills in the Underground, had been Muffet of all people. Sans must’ve not realized either, when he’d set up the appointment over the phone. He’d have warned him, at least!

Mettaton had been here for nearly 4 hours now, a welcome reprieve to bask in himself and his image in his otherwise less enjoyable, very packed schedule. Sans, as his manager, had been working him to the bone this week. Event after event, job after job, barely any time to think, or do much of anything besides charge himself when it was necessary. Just as Mettaton liked it. 

Things were busy outside of that, too ─ his new management had been working overtime to keep up this image and reputation. Ruins Dummy, bless his heart, had been painstakingly editing photos, adding some adjustments here and some lighting there, editing out odd expressions and adding a bit of a thicker crowd in the back before posting anything. 

Well. Whatever made him feel useful, Mettaton supposed.

Shyren, too, the lovely little lady; She was just the sweetest thing Mettaton had ever seen. Always doing her work with no complaints—but what is there to complain about when all you do is paperwork, anyway?—Not insulting him, and being a general beacon of joy. Surprisingly. Though she hadn't gotten better at socializing, she had improved mentally. She’d even started singing professionally! All that talk about her being tone deaf was really overblown. She had a lovely voice.

Maddy, more than that, her favorite part of the job was ushering people away from Mettaton; annoying fans, creeps and weirdos, annoying children, annoying parents trying to lift their child to Mettaton's face in order to have him kiss their crown. And her least favorite part? Actually being around Mettaton, of course. She acted like he had a disease. Whatever.

It was anything that anyone could ever want, really─ busy life, lots of fans, a lover. 

…

So why─

Well, Mettaton didn't like to dwell on the little things!

Too much else to think about than something like that.

Muffet snapped her fingers again, on all six arms this time. “Come on! I said to loosen up, not zone out!” It was funny, really, how her voice lost all sweetness when she was angry. Like how Maddy tended to end her sentences with ‘nya’—weird—in normal settings, but the moment she was ticked off, all she did was screeeeam. Or would yowl be more appropriate?

Maybe that’s why they were friends. Maddy spent most of her days off with Muffet—at least, that’s what Mettaton’s heard. From Ruins Dummy, of all people. That guy was an actual serious gossip.

“Yes, O Master Photographer,” Mettaton mumbled, striking a half-assed pose. Of course he loved the spotlight, but really, how many photos did one woman need? Was that her thing—taking so many pictures that of course some of them had to be good quality?

All five of Muffet’s eyes turned to slits, her mouth twisting into a scowl. “Well, dear, if that’s how you’re going to be.. I suppose we’ll end it there. We have enough pictures, anyway.” Despite her truly disturbing expression, her voice regained that sultry tone. Honestly, who was she trying to impress? 

At least it was over. “Great, thanks.” Mettaton wasted no time in getting the hell out of there—only to be stopped abruptly.

“Ahuhuhu! I think you’re.. forgetting something!”

“I don’t handle finance anymore! Talk to my manager.” Mettaton snapped, and continued getting the hell out of there.

He had other things to do in the Capital, so no time to go home and rest for his ‘free hour’. 

Maddy and the other cat—Jenga?—caught up to him as he was walking, and thank the Angel they did, because there was a crowd starting to form. As much as he loved attention, it really did get exhausting, being both the most beloved—and only—celebrity in the underground and the king.  

He didn’t speak a single word to either of them—why waste his time? They both knew he didn’t like them.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He did try to like Maddy, at least. But as always, it was near impossible.

For some reason, Ruins Dummy thought it was a good idea for him, Shyren, & Napstablook to have an.. office? All of their jobs could be easily performed in the comfort of their own homes—in fact, Mettaton wasn’t sure Napstablook ever even used the office—so why did Ruins Dummy think that was a good investment?

They all had too much G on their hands these days. Funnily enough, paying all these employees barely made a dent in Mettaton’s metaphorical pockets. Merch sold out in minutes these days, CDs and records were flying off shelves, ..et cetera. Of course it was lovely to see himself everywhere, but it just felt hollow without—

Anyway, there was Ruins Dummy. Dead-eyed as always. Really, after receiving arms, his next move should’ve been to get new eyes. More expressive ones. 

He waved his dumb little nub arm. “Oh hey! What’s up?”

Offering a polite nod to Shyren, who was silently filling out a form, Mettaton walked over to Ruins Dummy’s desk. “I just finished a photoshoot, so you’ll have to post some of the pictures to UnderNet when they're released.”

“Uh huh. Yeah, of course. Also, you just reached 100,000 followers on UnderNet, which makes no sense because I don’t think there’s even that many monsters in the Underground.” Ruins Dummy looked.. suspicious? It was hard to tell with how few expressions he could actually make.

Mettaton rolled his eyes. “What does it matter that some of them may not be real? Did you send a celebration post?”

“Oh, not yet. Should I?”

This was basic social media management! What did he mean ‘should I’? Mettaton scowled. “Yes!”

Ruins Dummy typed something on his computer, then looked back up at Mettaton. “So, you’re doing really well on UnderNet and MonsterTube, I already said that—and you have 20,000 monthly listeners on Mystify, your shows are doing really well, and there’s lots of engagement on news articles about you. Overall, you’ve never done better! The Underground’s general perception of you is very positive. There’s a few monsters on UnderNet who’re like ‘oh Mettaton is too full of himself’, but then they get bullied into deleting their accounts not long after.”

Mettaton.. did not ask for a summary. But it was fine. Helpful, even.

The most he could muster as a response was,  “..Okay, thanks.”

Chapter Text

unlike the first time i asked everyone to hang out with me, everyone showed up. even mad mew mew, who i did not invite. guess she caught on. 

unfortunately.

now listen. she’s a fine person. like, morally. but she has such a judgmental air to her that it makes her completely and totally unbearable to be around. and i haaaave to deal with her ‘cause we co-run the sink casino.

but it’s whatever. as long as she doesn’t sit in the corner gossiping like catty and bratty do.

yeah, i did say everyone. that means even the shy ones. like napstablook and shyren. i’m pretty good buddies with napstablook, i’d say. maybe that's why they’re here now, or maybe they’ve just been coming out of their shell.

like.

like a snail.

snails have shells.

okay, well they don’t come out of them, because then they’d be slugs.. whatever, man.

anyway, i’m honestly surprised to see shyren here. she’s just as timid as ever, but it makes sense when you take into account everyone else in the room. besides me, of course. everyone knows i’m super friendly and charismatic. seriously, though, everyone else can make this a pretty weird environment. mad mew mew’s.. well, it’s in her name. jeirid is. he’s. uh. sweaty. and very opinionated. ruins dummy’s okay, and i think he and shyren were friends at some point, but he’s still probably a little much for her. and then, uh. catty and bratty. in the corner.

oh, and mykaa’s here. he’s jeirid’s boyfriend.. so i’ve heard.

and so i’ve seen. they’re. actively making out. mykaa’s nice, though. kinda his thing.

actually. you know what? it isn't everyone, 'cause papyrus isn’t here. that guy seriously doesn’t know when to take a break. love him. wish he was here. 

so. okay. who’s here. me, jeirid, ruins dummy, napstablook, shyren, mad mew mew, mykaa, and the dynamic duo on the floor.

that’s a pretty good turnout, in comparison to the first time we did this. and as per usual—if he’d stop sucking mykaa’s face—jeirid brought his bong. so we’re gonna get faded, as the kids say. 

ehh, maybe i should, uh. intervene.

“so are we gonna hang out, or..”

jeirid finally pulls off of mykaa and. wipes his mouth. okay, gross. don’t know if i want to smoke with this guy anymore.

“Sorry.. we got.. carried away.” i think he’s sweatier than usual. man, i like this guy, but sometimes i seriously question the people i choose to spend time with.

i swear i can see catty taking a picture of him from the floor. you know what? fair enough. gossip makes the world go round, as they say..

i don’t know who ‘they’ is.

while jeirid packs very very sloppily (man, i’d hate to see this guy roll a joint), mad mew mew decides to say something. “This is all highly inappropriate—I have half a mind to report this entire group.”

yeah, okay, miss hissy. who would she report us to? mettaton himself? she doesn’t even like him. that’s an empty threat if i’ve ever heard one. 

“What is? Kissing?” mykaa’s almost completely oblivious to the bong now being lit right next to him. well, ‘being lit’ is an overstatement. jeirid’s kind of just fumbling with the lighter. this guy’s got issues. 

“Using tongue and touching each other all.. gayly.. and smoking weed!” this really is, like. not a problem at all. if she thinks tonguing is bad, she'd hate to see what—

hey, actually, maybe i shouldn't finish that sentence.

“we’re not. uh. working. right now. does it matter what we do?”

coughing like he’s never smoked a day in his life, jeirid tries to get a sentence out as he passes the bong and lighter to me. “Aren’t you-” oh lord, he’s wheezing. “Supposed to be working?”

it really pays to not have to breathe, because i think i’m inhaling, like, all of the smoke this thing has to offer. i need to, if i want to survive the wrath of mad mew mew.

ruins dummy agrees with jeirid, and he shows this by nodding his weird disembodied muppet head very aggressively. “I think when you’re a bodyguard you really shouldn't go on break.”

you know, that’s a good point. maybe i should chime in when i’m not exhaling through my.. eyes. it's happened before, obviously, but it’s never gotten any less weird. i guess it makes sense. my head’s hollow. 

when i’m finally taking in air again, i pass it to ruins dummy. “yeah, what are you gonna do if mettaton, uh.. gets jumped? or something?”

“Rejoice, rejoice, rejoice.” okay.. i thought she dropped the threes thing.

“That’s really good to know. Mettaton’s bodyguard wants him to die.” mykaa looks almost wistful, like he’s looking off into the metaphorical sunset. he sounds that way too. i like this guy, he’s funny. 

maddy tsks like what she said was perfectly reasonable. “Try to find someone who doesn’t.”

going around the room, jeirid decides to literally list ‘em off. “Sans, Napstablook, Shyren, Ruins Dummy, Mykaa, Catty & Bratty.. Probably that other guy.”

assuming ‘that other guy’ is papyrus, i’m honestly not sure these days. like, of course he doesn’t want mettaton to die, but.. i dunno. there was that one time he electrocuted him.. at least that’s what i heard. i wasn’t there. okay, i was there, but i wasn’t in the room. that might’ve changed his opinion a little. or maybe not.  

man.. jeirid really needs. like. smoking lessons. this is sad to watch. 

“Funny you didn’t say yourself. So you’re on my side?”

of course he doesn’t like mettaton! he’s the number one mettaton hater of all time. mad mew mew’s only number two. she needs to step up her game. 

oh my god i think he’s dying. 

maybe i should answer for him.. “yeah, ‘course he is. you two hate him the most out of all of us.”

“That’s not hard, because I don’t hate him at all..” okay, thanks, mykaa. he’s seriously got a heart of gold. 

and jeirid is passing the bong to me.

“Well, you should start.” there’s a very real bite to mad mew mew’s voice. she still isn’t intimidating. she's possessing alphys’ life-sized anime catgirl doll. i can’t get over that. it’s hilarious.

“..no..i don’t.. think he should..” that’s the first time napstablook’s spoken since they got here. and i can’t even reply, because i’m, uh. busy. wonder if my eyes look cool at all.. like a fog machine..

mad mew mew is pissed the hell off now. “Why are you pro-Mettaton now, Napstablook? Don’t forget how he..” she hesitates. odd. “..has treated you.” 

“um..well.. he’s nice to me now.. so.. i’m starting to forgive him..”

“Bullshit!”

even i cough a little as i exhale what appears to be an entire cloud. i need a sec to recover, otherwise i’d be trying to de-escalate the situation.

“He’s not being nice to you, he’s treating you like a baby! A fragile, helpless baby! He’s doing it to Shyren, too!” yikes. that’s.. a little harsh, no?

shyren removes herself from the group, settling into the corner with catty and bratty. fair enough. she doesn’t seem much for conversation, let alone confrontation.

passing the bong to ruins dummy again, it’s my turn to say something. and hopefully not yell it. madison. “not sure if that’s entirely accurate—”

“You don’t get a say in this! He’s your boyfriend!”

no comment.

jeeeeeeeez, jeirid’s eyes are red. i’m surprised he even got enough into his system to get high at all. “Whaaat.. are you for cereal?” 

we are not talking about this.

Chapter Text

All things considered, Club MTT was doing great. It’d been open for months now, and, well. No one has died. No negative Help reviews. No notes on the employees, besides especially positive thoughts on Mykaa. He wasn’t annoying like Catty and Bratty, was exceptional at his job, and generally didn’t ask for much. Just a work uniform, a little more than minimum wage, and permission to advertise Nice Cream to customers. Sure, who cares?

Mykaa’s job was sort of useless when it came to Mettaton, though, who didn’t tend to waste his time on cute cocktails. He usually just asked for straight everclear in a martini glass. This night was no different.

If anything, Mykaa should be grateful he wasn’t forced to carry acetone.

He’d chosen to wear normal going-out clothes for once, so the only indicator that he was even the king was.. well, probably everything. It wasn’t hard to notice the super tall robot—made even taller by the extensions on his boots—with disheveled hair and red eyes. He wasn’t hard to miss—even if he did, kind of, look like your typical monster at the moment. 

Part of him wished he could go unnoticed, but still, after everything, he did love the attention. 

At least one thing hadn’t changed.

Sliding Mettaton’s drink across the bar, Mykaa frowned. “You look sad. You know what always cheers me up?”

Mettaton knew what he was going to say, eyes rolling as he grasped the glass. “A-”

“-A Nice Cream!” Mykaa interrupted, smile large and cheery even in the dim lighting of the bar.

Mykaa’s predictability was comforting, if nothing else. “No thank you.”

“..Okay. Wanna talk about why you look sad?”

Mettaton sighed, then downed his drink. “Ask me later.” He liked the taste of alcohol, actually. Which really wasn’t all that surprising—he ate glass and batteries.. often.

Noticing a familiar pink blur, Mettaton shuddered. He turned to her, while Mykaa refilled his glass. 

Of course it was Maddy. She was off work today, and yet she still ended up in the same place as him. 

What were the odds?

And oddly enough, she’d brought .. Justin? And dear god, Papyrus, too. His three most insufferable employees! All here on their off-day! 

“Oh, good lord,” Maddy groaned. As the months went by, it seemed more and more like she was actively resisting warming up to Mettaton. It felt like every time she treated him with any semblance of kindness, she retracted it immediately—and compensated with worse treatment.

It was exhausting, the game she played. Mettaton would rather she just kept the same attitude every time than this nonsense. 

“AH.. MAYBE WE SHOULD GO SOMEWHERE ELSE?” As irritating as he was, Papyrus did tend to act as the voice of reason.. most of the time. This was one of those times, thankfully.

“Hell no! We’re not gonna let King Dickhead ruin our night out.” That was a new one. Maddy usually just deadnamed him and went on with her day—but they were in public. At least she had an ounce of respect. 

The ugly, sweaty cat looked at her like a deer in headlights. “You’re so brave. Insulting him when we’re, like, right next to him..”

Mettaton was getting just a bit tired of them talking about him as if wasn’t there, so he decided to step in. After downing his recently refilled glass, of course. 

He savored the taste of Everclear on his tongue, courtesy of the masterful Alphys. If only she could see him now. Mettaton couldn’t tell if she’d be disappointed or not. “Are you at least going to say hello? Or are you just going to stand there whispering to each other?” 

Maddy sneered, a truly ugly face, not at all in line with her ‘cutesy’ anime features. “I’m sorry, I recall the last thing you said to me being ‘Leave me alooooone!’” She spat, her tone turning mocking when she quoted Mettaton. “Does that not hold up?”

The ugly cat elbowed her, genuine terror on his face. Someone in this group had some sense, aside from Papyrus, thankfully. 

“You don’t need to be scared of him, Jeirid,” Maddy huffed, “He can’t actually do anything—not in public, at least.”

Oh, is that what she thought? Mettaton disagreed. In fact, maybe the cat deserved a little zap right then and there! Really, Mettaton wanted to kill him, but that would be overdoing it—Mykaa was right there, after all.. And he needed his assistant alive. 

So, Mettaton electrocuted him. Only lightly, like when you toast bread but only till it’s golden.

The cat’s fur bristled, he looked like a charred fuzzball. A little like a pipe cleaner, too. And not in a good way. “..Are you sure?” Aside from the way he looked, he was mostly unaffected. It was probably because it wasn’t that strong of a shock..

“Oh my god! Mettaton!” Maddy hissed. “Can you- chill, chill, CHILL—” 

Mykaa, clearly trying to defuse the figurative bomb of an argument, interrupted. “Haha, hahahaha, ah.. How about some drinks, guys?” He was trying, at least. 

Mettaton slid his empty glass back to Mykaa. He’d clearly been feeling the effects of the alcohol already, but it wasn’t enough. He’d like to be blackout drunk within the hour. 

“Mykaa..” Maddy started, but then sighed. “Sure. Dirty Shirley, please.”

“Oh, yay! That’s my favorite drink!” Mykaa quickly got to work. Of course that was his favorite drink. It was just a kiddy mocktail turned alcoholic. Mettaton wouldn’t be surprised if he’d concoct some twisted, fucked up alcohol float one day.

Papyrus, awkward as what seemed to be the only state he existed in, tapped on the counter with a bony hand. “ON A SIMILAR NOTE, CAN I JUST GET A SHOT OF GRENADINE?”

Mettaton shuddered, trying not to think about the texture. Or flavor. Straight syrup? Even the concept of it was horrific. How were Sans and this guy related?

Maddy seemed equally like she was going to throw up, eyes wide and hand flying to cover her mouth, like she was going to puke. She wasn’t, of course. She didn’t have a stomach. “..Papyrus, that’s disgusting.” 

Mykaa paid the insult no mind, and promptly poured some grenadine in a shot glass for Papyrus, then returned to mixing Maddy’s drink.

Papyrus bellowed a laugh, “YOU HAVE NO TASTE, CLEARLY.” And. He took it like any other shot. What the fuck.

Mettaton had to turn away to keep from literally gagging. It was honestly fucked up that he even had that ability, but whatever. Not like he could get it removed, with Alphys being dead and all. No way was he going to mess with his own programming and risk ruining himself physically. He was already ruined mentally—this body was the best part of him, nowadays.

The cat spoke after a while—Mettaton was thoroughly disappointed that the effects of his shock had worn off. “Can I.. uh..” Well. Maybe not all the way. Maybe it zapped his brain a little. Likely he’d already been stupid beforehand, though.

“No worries, I know your drink order,” Mykaa had the most intense goo-goo eyes Mettaton had ever seen. Seriously, what did he see in that ugly, sweaty, annoying creature? 

To each their own, he supposed. 

Maddy took a sip of her drink, then put it down and looked around.. suspiciously? “Hey, where’s Catty?” 

Mettaton scowled. Now was not a good time to introduce another person. He was three glasses of straight 95% alcohol in, he didn’t need to keep track of Maddy, Catty, and The Cat. 

Mykaa passed a generic-looking drink to the cat. “I think she’s hanging out with Bratty.. So that either means I’m the only one working the bar, or there’s no bouncer right now-”

“Explains why you guys were let in,” Mettaton interrupted, his words starting to slur.

“..HAHA!!!! THAT’S FUNNY!!” Fakest laugh of all time.

Maddy rolled her eyes. “Do you ever have anything nice to say?”

Angel forbid he tries to joke! Maddy had to just have no sense of humor, because this was getting ridiculous. Time and time again, he’d try to say something even slightly comedic, and she’d get pissed off! 

As much as he wanted to kill her, he’d just ignore her. Keep his mouth full with liquor opposed to spitting words, and all that. “Mykaa, refill my glass, please.” 

“..MYKAA, DO YOU HAPPEN TO HAVE ANY COUGH DROPS?”

Chapter Text

Ring. 

… Ring. 

Click.

Mettaton hovered over the disconnect button with shaking fingers, despite the fact that Sans had only just accepted the call. 

Mettaton clenched his hovering hand into a fist.

He hesitated, taking in a shuddering breath, “..Hi.”

“hey, what’s up?” Sans sounded as casual as ever. He always did. Like nothing had ever changed. 

Mettaton couldn’t speak. It was like he’d been muted, but he hadn’t touched his volume dial. He tried to say something, anything. His mouth opened and closed repeatedly, a desperate attempt to get even a word out—but only silence followed.

“..uh, hello?”

He still couldn’t even make a sound. He was frozen, aside from the uncontrollable shaking, and the faintest sign of artificial tears welling up in his eyes. No, no, he couldn’t cry yet. He hadn’t even said anything!

He opened his mouth to try again. Still, nothing but something akin to a whine, his throat tight with his despair. Choking and pathetic. What was wrong with him?

“mettaton, you called me, dude.” Sans was getting impatient, his voice sharpening. It wasn’t pleasant to hear, to say the least. To say the most, it was terrifying. 

Finding it hard to get what he wanted to say out, he opted to buy himself just a little bit more time. “Can you- can you give me a minute?”

Sans hummed, and Mettaton could picture him sitting in his room. “yeah, okay.”

What could Mettaton even start with? It was so much to cover, and over the phone, no less? But he couldn’t let Sans see him break down, not again. The first time was enough—and the second was just insult to injury.

“..gettin’ a little bored here.”

As a final attempt, Mettaton supposed, Sans started telling a joke. “hey, what did the skeleton say to the robot?”

It did work—well, a little bit. Mettaton smiled slightly in advance, and murmured, “What?”

“get on with it or i’m hanging up.” 

Oh. His smile disappeared as quickly as it’d arrived.

Mettaton inhaled sharply, falling back to lay down. This bed wasn’t his, even if it did have his old sheets, and his old pillow, and... 

“It’s just- I don't know how much more of this I can take.” That was as good of a start as any, he supposed.

There was silence for a moment. And then all Sans said was a small, “huh?”

Before he could really think about what to say next, it spilled out of him in one long breath. “I can’t do this anymore. I-I think Alphys killed herself, and my relationship with my family will never be the same, and no matter how many fans I surround myself with, I’ll always be alone, and I don't have anyone to talk to except you and my therapist—and I can’t talk to my therapist, but I don’t want to put this on you, I-”

Sans interrupted. “jeez, slow down. i can’t understand anything you’re saying-” He paused abruptly, then asked—much quieter, “she killed herself?”

Mettaton couldn't stop himself from crying anymore, inky black tears rolling down his face. He wouldn’t bother wiping them. It would just make more of a mess. “I- I- That’s- That’s what I’m assuming. When Asgore died, she- she told me she needed to think, and then she went to the basement, and I ha-” He paused, running a hand through his hair, “I haven’t seen her since. I looked for her everywhere." He repeated, "Everywhere." It felt like no matter how much he said it, it didn't convey the extent of his desperate search. "She’s gone. I’m so scared.” 

“..shit. she was a really good friend.” Sans sounded so.. calm. Of course he was hard to read, that was his thing, but why now? For once, could he show an ounce of emotion?—Show that he cared? Even a little bit? He should care. 

“Yeah.. I- You used to come to the lab sometimes while she was building me, and—” Mettaton’s reminiscing was cut short by a horrifying thought. “What am I going to do when I need repairs? She was the only one who knew how to do any of that!”

He.. he wasn’t going to last. Mettaton needed regular maintenance, at least once a month, but it’d been so long. What if he was slowly breaking down, and he didn’t even notice? Mettaton knew that, eventually, he would be betrayed by a failing body. Rusty parts and missing cogs, wires cut and voice box sputtering. Without Alphys, it was his destiny. His destiny to die a shell of what he once was. Just like the old king.

“hey, i’m sure you’ll be fi-”

“No, I won’t. I really won't.” Mettaton snapped, tugging at his hair. “I can’t do this anymore, Sans. I wasn’t made for this, and now my only friend is probably dead, and I have no one to fix me if my limbs get blown off again, or something else happens. I’m so- I’m so.. scared.” His voice softened into something weak, feeble. “This body won’t last. I won’t last.”

When Sans didn’t respond, Mettaton felt like he’d done something wrong. Maybe he had. He rushed to correct his mistake, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to- to vent like that. You have enough to worry about.”

“you don’t have to apologize. you said you didn’t have anyone else to talk to, right?” His voice was always so soothing. Now Mettaton wished they were face-to-face. Then Sans could hold him, and make all his problems disappear, and..

Mettaton scowled. “Yeah, but I just- This is so unprofessional.”

It sounded like Sans hesitated before mumbling, “..i’m sure that’s not the only unprofessional thing about our relationship..”

“Can we not talk about that? Not now. I’m.. I don’t know what to do.” Honestly, he wanted to talk about them—he wanted Sans to calm him down like always, to make him happy, to make him feel like he wasn’t actively dying. But he’d hidden this entire topic for so long.

“well. you’re pretty strong for having made it this far. especially with keeping all that a secret. why don’t you just, uh.. continue as normal?”

“I don’t feel like I…” Mettaton trailed off, eyes widening in realization. “I’m only getting by because everyone loves me, aren’t I?” 

“mhm.” So calm. Like it didn’t mean anything.

Mettaton scoffed, the tears coming even faster than before. “..That’s not reassuring at all.”

“what, do you want to be overthrown?”

Mettaton laid his phone beside his head, staring up at the ceiling. “No, it’s just.. I’m doing a really bad job at being king, and no one cares, because I’m Mettaton.”

“..isn’t that good?”

“How am I supposed to improve if there aren’t any standards?”

“i think about that a lot.”

Sans didn’t continue, which prompted Mettaton to follow up with, “..And do you have any insight on it?”

“nah.”

...Wow. How helpful.

“i’m not that encouraging, huh?” 

“No, not really.”

He sighed, “i don’t think it matters what you do in the long run. it’s all gonna end one day either way. you could stay the same, or try to improve. what difference would it make, really, when everything’s just gonna.. go away?”

“..What?” Mettaton’s eyes widened again, brows furrowing. 

“hm?”

“That was really dark. I didn’t expect that.”

“yeah, well, i’m full of surprises.”

“Hm.”

Mettaton stayed silent for a beat, sniffling. “..I love you.”

“...yeah.” 

Mettaton’s mouth hung open, horrified. Sans had always just avoided it, never.. never this. What did that even mean? ‘Yeah’? It wasn’t a question, that wasn't the right response. He started to shake again, breathing picking up, tears flowing just like before—no, no. It was fine. Everything was fine. Maybe Sans just.. fucking.. forgot what the proper thing to say was. Certainly not ‘yeah’. 

Could Mettaton ever catch a break? It didn’t feel like it. And he couldn’t even argue, or question what the hell ‘yeah’ meant. He could barely even think of something reasonable to say.

It felt like hours passed—and all he managed to come up with in the end was, “I don’t want to hang up.” His voice wavered, and it was so clear he’d been crying.. he still was. Sometimes it felt like that was all he ever did.

“okay. you have anything else to say?”

“No. Just stay on the line, please.”

“sure.”

It kept repeating in Mettaton’s head. It was eating at him. Why was he so hard to love? And why was it so hard to just lie? At least if Sans just lied and said it back, he wouldn’t have to mess with Mettaton’s head. 

He could only imagine what it’d be like to have this conversation in person. Maybe it’d be easier, because he wouldn’t be alone, in a cold, mostly-empty house that was supposed to belong to him but didn’t. He wouldn't be sobbing and clutching his phone like a precious gem.

Tentatively, he leaned in closer to his phone to whisper, “W-Why.. Why didn’t you.. say you love me back?”

“there’s no point.” Why did Sans insist on giving him riddles for answers? He either loved Mettaton or he didn’t. It was that simple, and he couldn’t give a single straight answer.

“..Do you?”

“does it matter?” Of course it did! What kind of a sick question was that? Didn't their relationship mean anything to him?

“To me, it does.”

“..okay.”

'Okay'?

Silence, and all Mettaton could hear was his own breathing. He hoped that, maybe, it’d help him regulate himself, even a little.

“i- i just..” Sans half-sighed, half-groaned, frustrated. “whatever, it’s not important.”

“No, no,” Mettaton was quick to reply, on the edge of defensive, “what is it?”

“the same thing i said earlier. nothing really makes a difference if it’s all going to end anyway.”

Mettaton wiped his eyes. A useless gesture, really, considering they were yet to stop. Irritation, and perhaps desperation, seeped into his tone. “..I suppose. But it’s nice to be together now, isn’t it?”

“guess you could say that.”

Mettaton felt the fire of anger flare in his chest, reaching to hang up the call without thinking about it.

Resisting the urge to throw his phone across the room, Mettaton turned to murmur into his pillow, hugging it tight to himself. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

Chapter Text

The statue was finished, finally. It’d taken months—Mettaton kept having to tell the workers to make adjustments, to make it look more like Alphys.

It had paid off. It looked just like her. 

He thought it’d provide some sense of closure, but the more he looked at it, the more he wished she was here to see it. He wished she was here to see that he did care about her, he did love her, he did want to repair their friendship. 

Why had he only decided to make an effort moments before she disappeared? Why was he so stupid?

Every day. Every single day, he thought of more and more ways he could’ve fixed things before she left him, but it didn’t do any good, because—what was she going to do, come back? Rematerialize from the scattered dust he probably didn’t notice in the basement because it was already full of regular dust? Maybe if he had gone after her when she left, she wouldn't have done it. 

This statue was supposed to honor Alphys. It was supposed to immortalize her, the Royal Scientist who created a robot with a soul, but all it did was serve as a reminder that she wasn’t there. She’d never be there. The lab was cold and empty and haunted, in the middle of Hotland, burning, and bustling with activity. It always was. That was how you got to the MTT Resort. The MTT Resort was how you got to the Capital. 

But no one had to go to the lab. Not anymore. There was nobody there. Mettaton wasn’t even going to hire a new Royal Scientist. Why would he? It’d be salt in the wound. Like the previous one didn’t matter. Like Alphys just filled a role, and when she left, she’d have to be replaced. She was more than just a role. 

It was becoming more and more obvious, the answer to his question. ‘How would he go on?’

He wouldn’t.

He couldn’t. 

That was it. He knew now. He had to.. follow her. 

But he couldn’t do it himself, he knew that.

He was too much of a coward.

Chapter Text

Dead, muppet eyes. Soulless, yet with this.. inexplicable air of tragedy. “Profits are down 20%..” 

“..You.. you don’t.. You do not manage money?” Mettaton’s face twisted in deep confusion. Was that Ruins Dummy’s attempt at a joke? It wasn’t really funny. Just odd. 

Maddy snorted. Right, of course. Because she was easily impressed by everyone except Mettaton.

“Okay, yeah,” Ruins dummy tapped his weird nub hands on the table. “People keep telling each other to kill themselves in your comment sections.”

Mettaton shrugged. Sometimes he was among them doing the same thing, after all. Not that he’d share that fun fact with this group. “Yeah, they do that.”

“I’M.. NOT SURE THAT’S THE PROPER REACTION?” Papyrus interrupted. This damn goody-two-shoes.

Mettaton sighed, nails clicking against the table. “What is he supposed to do, stop them?”

“YES?” 

“Okaayyy, adding a comment filter..” It was truly.. something, the way Ruins Dummy could accurately use a phone with no fingers. Inspirational, maybe. Gross? Hard to pinpoint. How the hell did he use phones before he was given arms? 

“THANK YOU!” Papyrus shouted—though it was hard for him not to—his smile somehow larger than it was before. How was that possible? What even was there to smile about? 

Mettaton inhaled shakily, trying not to already electrocute the entire room. It was fine. Normal.. business.. meeting. When he initially hired this team, he didn’t expect all of them to be so irritating. Maddy, definitely, and Jack..? So, the cats. But everyone? The whole group, besides Sans, Napstablook, and Shyren? 

“..Anyway,” Maddy’s voice was sharp, as always. She coughed, once, clearing her throat, her face falling into a careful, but stern expression. What could possibly be pissing her off now? Nothing even happened. They were just talking about social media. “On a similar note, these fans are seriously getting violent. Every damn day, I have to fight off more and more losers who think Mettaton’s the angel. Any ideas on what to do?”

“pepper spray.” Sans mumbled, resting his head on the table. So sleepy. So cute—but now was not the time to focus on that.

Papyrus’ jaw fell open. “WHAT?”

“just a suggestion..” Sans shrugged, peeking up at his brother briefly.

“I think the Pyropes would like that,” Maddy grimaced, “But otherwise, not a bad idea.”

“NO. MAYBE. DON’T DO THAT.” Papyrus looked very concerned, because he always had to be above it all. Angel above! Sometimes pepper spraying people was the right thing to do. If he couldn’t see that, well, it was a good thing he wasn’t the bodyguard.

“Overruled,” Mettaton huffed. “Maddy, you can start carrying pepper spray.”

“Score, score, score!” Maddy scribbled something in a notepad. Really odd that she was taking notes for this meeting, but whatever. Was she even writing anything legible? The way her hand moved was so irregular, it’d be a shock if there were any clear words at all.

Looking around—Mettaton could only assume they were making sure no one else had anything to say—Napstablook spoke up. “..um.. i’ve wanted to.. ask this for a while now.. why do we.. have an office?” 

“Because it’s professional, duh.” Ruins Dummy crossed his arms. Was he.. trying to look cool? It wasn’t working. Nothing he’d done landed properly, at least not with Mettaton.

“WHAT? WHY DON’T I GET AN OFFICE?”

Mettaton stared at the table. This meeting was really testing his patience. Most things did, these days, but this was really doing it. 

Ruins Dummy raised his hand..? For some reason? “Come to ours! We’ve got space! Napstablook never shows up.”

“..i..prefer my house.. for music stuff..” They seemed to shrink back into their ghost-chair. Poor thing. 

Papyrus nodded, leaning over the table in Ruins Dummy’s direction like an over-excited dog. “OKAY! I WILL SEE YOU TOMORROW!”

Shyren looked.. dejected. It seemed that she, too, disliked Papyrus. Mettaton understood entirely.

The room fell quiet. Maybe it was finally Mettaton’s turn. “Um. Another thing. I’m not really liking this.. overbooking that’s been happening lately. Unfortunately, I can only be in one place at a time. Alphys did not include ‘teleportation’ in my body’s abilities.”

Maddy scribbled in her notepad again, then looked up, with mischief..? On her face. “How do we make it so that you’re in.. no place? Ever?” 

Come on! Seriously? That was the weakest threat Maddy had ever come up with. She was supposed to be just a little creative. That was nothing!

“Maddy. Seriously. Quit it with the regicide talk.” The cat finally decided to say something—he’d been oddly quiet, and kind of nauseous-looking the entire time. It was a welcome change, though, because Mettaton hated his weird, ugly, scratchy voice. Probably from all the cigarettes. Too bad he was talking now. Peace-ish ruined.

“He’s not gonna do anything,” Maddy rolled her eyes and elbowed the cat. They really shouldn’t have sat next to each other. Not only were they individually annoying, but they encouraged each other’s absolute insufferableness. It was like a neverending, looping nightmare! 

Sans raised his head, blinking slowly. “..uh.. yeah, okay. i’ll free up your schedule a little.” At least someone had something useful to say.

Mettaton sighed, feeling a little tension leave him with Sans’ voice in his ears. “Thank you, my love.” 

“Uh, yeah, about him—” Maddy started, her eyes narrowed, “Did you know that every few days, he has a smoke session with Jeirid and Ruins Dummy in the breakroom?”

Mettaton tensed up again. “...Okay?”

Maddy’s gaze sharpened farther, staring down at Mettaton. “Are you not going to do anything about that?”

“No. That’s none of my business.” Mettaton shrugged, imbuing venom into his next words. “Don’t waste my time, Madison.”

Speaking of wasting time, Ruins Dummy was spinning his chair like a kid. “What’s so wrong with smoking a little weed? It’s not like we can get brain damage. I don’t have a brain.”

Clearly.

The cat still looked nauseous.. for some reason. “Yeah, and it helps with my anxiety.”

Maddy scoffed. “Jeirid.. don’t even talk to me. I can’t believe you’re part of them.” Oh, if only. If only they stopped talking to each other. 

Ruins Dummy stopped spinning abruptly, muppet eyes wide. “So.. uh.. You’ve got a whole two columns in the newspaper. And it’s funny, because I don’t even know who writes it. Is there a team? Should we get in touch?”

“You, Shyren, and Papyrus can handle that.” Mettaton waved his hand dismissively. He was supposed to just sit there and look pretty! Everyone should just know what to do by now, without him having to hold their hands!

“Okay, Joojling ‘newspaper writers near me’...” Ruins Dummy typed something on his phone. Shyren only nodded. 

Papyrus leaned across the table, looking at the phone screen intently. “NO, NO, YOU HAVE TO GOOGLE THE SPECIFIC PEOPLE.”

“I don’t know the-”

“GIVE ME YOUR PHONE.” Then he reached for it, grabbing it right out of Ruins Dummy’s weird nub hands. 

Mettaton slowly lowered his head onto the table. Sans knew what was up, clearly. He needed a serious nap.

Chapter Text

“Chara?”

A small, almost fearful voice rang throughout the space. 

Chara, awakening from their brief nap, rose partly out of the ground. This was odd, and new—Asriel had either been ignoring them this entire time, or hadn't known they were there at all. 

“Asriel?” They turned, facing the source of the voice. There he was, in all of his flowerly glory. 

“That's.. not my name anymore. How long have you been here?” His voice now came out guarded, and somewhat hostile. And that strange flower face.. there was not an ounce of familiarity in his eyes. They hadn't seen it up close until now—Frisk had always kept their distance. But why didn’t he look like he recognized them? He clearly did. 

They were still going to call him Asriel. It was the right thing to do. 

“It feels like forever now. I was awoken when the human fell... Their determination was astounding.”

Chara could feel it still—the determination that brought them back, coursing through their veins like fresh blood. Wasn't that something? Being dead, a spirit, and still feeling as strong as that.

Asriel’s face twisted in possible humor. “Yeah. I haven't been able to reset since they fell. I can't even reset now, and it's been months!” He wiggled the leaves on his stem as a way to emote. It was disturbing. 

They crossed their arms—maybe it was insensitive to utilize their limbs when Asriel didn’t have any. “I don't understand why they haven't reset. There is nothing more for them to do, nothing more to see. Frisk is long gone.” 

“Maybe they just got bored of the game,” Asriel suggested, raising an.. eyebrow? “I did. That's why I keep killing people.”

“..Uh huh.” That didn’t make any sense, anyway. If they got bored of the game, they would’ve also started killing. But Chara was still here, not waiting to be re-awoken after a reset. 

He looked incredulous now. “Come on, Chara, it's not like you're any better.” 

“I didn't say I was.” Defensively, Chara backed up. Really, though, they may be. Though they longed to empty the underground—hopefully by freeing monsters—and do whatever it takes for that result, Asriel continuously acted on boredom and impulse. He would kill just to see what would happen, repeatedly, like it didn’t matter. That didn’t bring them any closer to freedom. In fact, it set them back. Resets didn’t allow for any progression. They’d never be free at this rate—but it didn’t matter anymore. Because Asriel couldn’t reset. They were stuck.

His face settled, huffing a sigh. “Okay, fine. Have you been keeping up with.. what's happening?”

“Yes. I am appalled, truly. Have they attempted this route before?” Of course they were awoken every time, but they only really paid attention when it was relevant. Like when they had to describe an object, or an enemy, or keep count of kills. This afterlife became monotonous after a while.

Asriel was silent for a moment. Was he thinking? It was hard to tell. So few of his mannerisms had carried over when he was given this.. form. “I don’t think so. I don’t know, they all blend together.”

“Hm.. Have any other routes ended up like this?”

“No. This is weird.” Even Asriel seemed shocked. He’d seen it all, so that wasn’t reassuring in the slightest.

Chara frowned. “I see. Then, what are we supposed to do?” It was such a hopeless situation. Asriel’s power to reset hadn’t been reinstated. They didn’t seem to be coming back. 

“Wait it out, I guess? I don't know.” Asriel.. shrugged? Those leaves weren’t doing him any favors. “I've been trying to keep Papyrus happy, at least.”

The red one, Chara thought. Boisterous, naïve. Kind. “I'm surprised he is even sane, let alone happy.”

“He's a pretty resilient guy.” Asriel smiled, a genuine one. So okay with being friends with someone new. But not his own best friend. 

“So I've noticed. And what about the rest of them?”

He groaned. “Can't you find out for yourself?”

“I don't quite like to leave this room. I only followed Frisk because if they woke me up, it must have been important.” Their gaze trailed off to the door to the Ruins. Empty, now, besides that horrible training dummy. It would never have the warmth it once held, ever again.

Something sparkled in Asriel’s eyes, if only for a moment. “And it wasn't.”

“No.” Chara’s eyes returned to the flowerbed beneath them. “I thought it would be.”

“It’s.. It’s okay, Chara. We’ll get ‘em next time.”

They smiled weakly at his attempt to cheer them up, nodding. “..Sure. Good night, Asriel.”

He hesitated, the discomfort of being connected to his real name evident in his face. “See you later,” He mumbled. 

Chara sighed, falling back into their resting place, cozy and soft. Safe and protected. Nothing could hurt them here.

Chapter Text

Mettaton hoped Asgore didn’t haunt this room, in some backwards spirit logic way, that would only ever happen to fuck up his life further. Asgore would likely be traumatized by the sight of Mettaton and Sans currently ‘locking lips’ on what used to be his king-sized bed.

It should’ve been a perfect moment, or at least a mildly good one. Mettaton was safe, secure. Most of all, he was making out with his boyfriend! 

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get lost in it—he couldn’t distract himself. And that really sucked. Sans was all he wanted before, so it didn’t make any sense that he never seemed to be enough now. If anything, this was just annoying. He shouldn’t be on the verge of tears for no reason. He should be happy. 

Pulling away from Sans, Mettaton frowned. “Hey, um.. can I ask you something?”

Sans sort of made the gesture of ‘raising an eyebrow’, despite his.. lack of. Funny things like that made Mettaton second guess himself, and wonder if he should stick around. What a good boyfriend he was. “..yeah? what’s up?”

“If I told you to do something, would you?” 

For a moment, Sans didn’t respond—he just stared. “uh, kind of a weird question. do you have, like, a kink i need to know about—”

Shocked, Mettaton shoved Sans even further away. “Oh my god, what? No?” A lot of talk about weird questions from someone who just asked an even weirder one.

“i mean, we were just in the middle of a pretty hot makeout session, that we should probably get back to..”

“This is serious, you pervert!” Mettaton swatted at him. Really, really, it should’ve been a fun moment. He kept thinking about it, how he should be enjoying himself. But it just wouldn't click. Mettaton averted his eyes for a moment, “No, um. I was just wondering.. if I asked you to do something really morally wrong, would you do it?”

Sans’ smile widened, maybe in humor. “well, what are we talkin’? kidnap?” His tone was so light. It used to be almost reassuring, how normal he acted. But now? It felt like a slap in the face. A reminder of all Mettaton was failing at.

“No,” Mettaton looked away, avoiding looking at Sans’ reaction. “Like.. say I asked you to.. kill me. Would you?” He’d been thinking about it for a considerable amount of time. Sans was the only one he trusted to do such a thing, especially now. Everyone had shown just how much they didn’t like him—and he’d rather be killed as an act of love rather than out of malice. 

“what?”

Mettaton winced. That wasn't a good reaction, but he didn’t want to explain. He didn’t want to argue. He just wanted to be dead.

As morbid as that sounded.

Sans took a moment to compose himself. “sorry, i uh.. didn’t.. expect that.” His voice was a wide range of emotions—A rare occurrence.

“..That doesn’t sound promising.” Mettaton mumbled. If Sans didn’t kill him, who would? 

“why’re you asking me to do it?” Of all questions. Really, it almost made Mettaton laugh, the absurdity of it—to be told to take your boyfriend’s life, and only question why it was on you.

But it wasn’t.. that funny. “I thought you wouldn’t be upset, or ask why, or argue..”

“i’m upset, and i’m asking why, and i’m arguing.”

Mettaton hesitated. “I don’t know what to say-” He couldn’t explain how he thought it’d be the ultimate sign of devotion, because that would make him sound crazy.

As if he didn’t already.

“why do you want me to kill you?” Sans pressed, grabbing Mettaton’s arm. 

Any other time, he’d accept it—but this wasn’t ‘any other time’, so he pulled away sharply. “None of your business.” 

“yes it is. you literally want me to kill you.”

“I..” Mettaton didn’t have any more defense, clearly. No way to explain and no way to convince, so he chose deflection. “You don’t need to know why. I just need to know if you would do it if I told you to.”

“..no.”

“W—” Okay. Unexpected response. That’s fine. “What do you mean, ‘no’?”

Sans crossed his arms. “the least you could do is tell me why you want me to murder you.”

“If I explain, will you do it?” He fought the urge to roll his eyes—maybe now wasn’t the best time to be sassy.

“no..?” It came out almost tentative, like the right reason would convince him. If only.

“What do you want from me?!” Mettaton snapped, getting impatient. What was up with these mind games? There was no need for any of this. It wasn’t difficult to just listen.

“you’re saying you want me to kill you and not telling me why. i’m worried about you. i always have been, but i didn’t think it was this bad!” Again, Sans reached for Mettaton—grabbing both his arms this time. 

“You don’t need to be worried, you need to put an end to this. I.. I can’t. I can’t live without Alphys.” 

“is that what this is about?” Sans’ expression shifted, to an emotion Mettaton couldn’t recognize. “you don’t deal with grief by also killing yourself.”

“I’ve tried everything. I don’t want to exist anymore. I can’t keep going. Not without her.” It was already killing him, really. Maybe not physically, but every day it got infinitely harder to continue living—to the point where death was preferable. 

Sans let go of Mettaton. He got quiet, keeping that odd expression. Finally, he muttered, “why don’t you do it yourself, then?” 

Disregarding the implications of being told to kill himself by his own boyfriend, Mettaton shook his head. “I-I can’t.” His voice lowered, and softened. “I wouldn’t be able to. I’m a coward.” Truthfully, he’d tried already. But he couldn’t go through with it.

“yeah. clearly.”

“Please, you have to—no one else would even listen if I asked. I don’t.. know.. what else I can do.”

“i don’t understand why- am- am i not enough for you?” Sans’ eyes were wide, and his voice came out desperate, almost defeated. Mettaton had never heard that from him before this. It was unsettling, but..

Maybe that was the way to convince him. Provoke him. Mettaton tilted his head slightly, and tried to stay monotone as he said, “No. You aren’t.”

“what?” Mettaton had never seen Sans look so distraught before. A lot of firsts, and not in a good way. “are you fucking serious?”

“You’re not enough for me,” Mettaton repeated. It was working, he thought, but he wasn’t sure it was worth seeing Sans like this—so horrified and confused. 

“i-”

The room fell almost completely silent, save for Mettaton’s quiet attempts to not burst into tears. It wasn’t worth it. 

That.. expression returned. But it shifted—Sans almost looked amused. “you know what? yeah. fine, i’ll kill you if you tell me to.” He sounded sarcastic, joking. 

Mettaton didn’t respond. He didn’t know how to. He couldn’t thank him. Not when it turned out like this. The conversation wasn’t supposed to go this way, it wasn’t supposed to make Sans upset, it...

Sans got off the bed and shuffled toward the door. He turned around for a moment, but didn't look at Mettaton. “i- i just- i’m going home. don’t call me, i won’t answer. actually? don’t contact me at all.” 

“What? Wait, no, no-” Mettaton’s breathing picked up—no, this was all wrong. “Wait, I’m sorry-” He pleaded, reaching an arm out. Dramatically. What the hell was that going to do? 

“fuck off, man!” Sans stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. 

Chapter Text

Sans had apologized, of course. Whether it was out of actual remorse for attempting to cut Mettaton off or because he thought Mettaton was too fragile to handle actually being cut off, it was unclear. It was probably both. And it was true—Mettaton was definitely too fragile to survive that. To put it lightly, he didn’t think he’d back out of killing himself if he tried. Regardless, they were talking again. Apparently, Sans had opted to not bring up their previous conversation at all, and continue as if it didn’t happen. Okay..

Mettaton wasn’t quite sure how to feel about that. He wanted it all to end soon—so having the topic ignored by the one meant to do it wasn’t very reassuring. 

“What is with you and spacing out whenever I talk to you?” Maddy derailed his train of thought. The monthly Blook Family Gathering was today, so that meant another inconvenience added to the pile. It wasn’t all bad. Napstablook was starting to warm up to him, finally—too bad it’d taken them until it was almost over. The bond would never reform. It was a shame, really, because Mettaton missed them. Every time they were both in the same room, he had to fight the urge to beg for forgiveness and a clean slate. 

Well, it sure would be clean soon..

In a lot of ways, that reminded him of how he felt about Alphys. When she was still alive. He’d reference her in passing and become overwhelmed with emotion, at least internally, and have to recompose himself.

Not anymore. He wouldn’t even talk about her.

Blinking, Mettaton faced Maddy. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

“Was asking if you’d seen any good movies lately. Y’know. Making regular conversation as opposed to an argument for once.” Maddy sounded oddly embarrassed, and kind of annoyed, too.

Either way, it was a welcome change. “Oh! Yes, actually. Anyone But You. It’s a romcom. I thought it was great.”

It even surprised Mettaton that Maddy was also warming up to him. Her insults had been weaker lately, and she seemed more genuinely interested in his well-being. That was funny, wasn’t it? Everything was starting to line up in his favor when he’d already given up. It was nice while it lasted—but it kind of sucked that he still hadn’t gotten over the fact that she stole Alphys’ doll.

“You guys ever seen BASEketball?” Ruins Dummy chimed in, the biggest damn smile on his weird muppet mouth. 

They were in his house again. Sometimes they’d all go to Mettaton’s, sometimes Napstablook’s. Never Maddy’s, because she lived under a sink. Not even just under a sink—in a back room behind a casino that was behind the sink. A casino! 

“..Uh.. No, I can’t say that I have, bud.” Maddy’s voice was light, amused. It was refreshing not to hear anger in it for once.

Napstablook tilted their head, gauging the ‘crowd’ as per usual. When they made sure everyone else was silent, they spoke up. “oh.. is that.. the movie you made me watch last week..”

“Yeah! Maddy, you should watch it. Actually, we should all watch it. How’s next Friday..” Ruins Dummy preemptively got his phone out. Was he going to schedule a movie night? 

Well, okay. He’d done weirder, Mettaton supposed.

Maddy tilted her head, her tail swishing. “Ah, shit, wait. That won’t work. Date night.”

Realizing he likely wouldn’t even be alive next Friday, Mettaton added, “Yeah, um.. won’t work for me either. Always on the clock.” He felt bad, but it wasn’t a complete lie, at least. He was pretty busy these days, even on his employees’ days off. 

How would things change when he was gone? Hopefully they wouldn’t memorialize him with his worst works. Maybe he should’ve written up a will.. And which songs, and shows, and movies, to remember him by.. 

Well, there was still time, wasn’t there?

A shame he wouldn’t be able to leave anything to Alphys. 

“..i.. i can.. watch it with you.. again..” Napstablook offered. They didn’t look too keen on it, though. Was the movie bad, or just one you couldn't watch too often? 

“No, it’s gotta be all of us. Okay, how about next Saturday?” Ruins Dummy was seriously typing up a storm. Even computer keyboards were confusing, but phone keyboards were so much smaller—how were his little nub hands so precise? 

Maddy shrugged. “Yeah, that works.” 

Kind of a difficult situation. Would it be better to lie and say he’d be there, or lie and say he would be busy? He wouldn’t be, technically, because there’s not much to do as a pile of dust. Hey, maybe they could sweep his dust into an urn like humans do, and watch that BASEketball movie with it.

“..That should be fine,” Mettaton said. Good enough. ‘Should’, in case something came up. 

Ruins Dummy typed something else, then put his phone down. “Okay. Movie night! Next Saturday! Don’t forget!”

Yeah. That’ll definitely be the last thing Mettaton thinks about.

When no one said anything, Maddy changed the subject. “Anyway, are you guys seeing what’s going on on UnderNet lately?” 

“oh.. um.. i only use it to promote my music..”

“Yeah, and I only use it to keep up with B-” No, they weren’t that close yet. “Napstablook’s music.”

“You mean all the suibaiting?” Ruins Dummy asked, picking his phone back up. What the hell was ‘suibaiting’? That didn’t even sound like a real word. 

Alphys was always saying things that didn’t sound like real words. Most of her Mew Mew Kissy Cutie rants were near incomprehensible if you weren’t practically taking notes.

Maddy snickered. “Yeah, that. I mean, it’s been happening all year, but I feel like it’s gotten crazy in the past few weeks.”

Mettaton frowned, remembering something. “I thought you made it so people couldn’t tell each other to kill themselves anymore.” The meeting wasn’t that long ago—what could have possibly happened?

Ruins Dummy shrugged almost dismissively. “Yeah, uh.. they got around my filter.”

They wouldn’t have gotten around one made by Alphys, that was for sure. She was so smart, so good with computers. She’d have rearranged the entire UnderNet faster than Ruins Dummy could set up his—apparently shoddy—comment filter.

“Hah!” Maddy’s face turned smug. “That’s an understatement. They’re threatening each other more now that there’s a filter! It’s an act of defiance!” It was odd to hear her shout and not be incredibly angry. 

“..What are we supposed to do about that?” Mettaton asked, tentatively. Were they even going to do anything? What was the point? For one, that was hilarious, and for two, the people would just bypass the filter again!

“Let it run its course. Duh.” Maddy giggled, her tail swishing mischievously. Of course she’d say that. She lived for violence.

Like cousin, like cousin.

Chapter Text

That was it. Mettaton couldn’t take it anymore.

It was weird, because yesterday was such a good day. Nothing had gone wrong—maybe that was the issue. He wanted to end on a positive note. It felt like how when you have a suicidal friend, they start being kind and generous right before they kill themself. 

Alphys should’ve done that. Would’ve been a lot better than leaving without saying goodbye. Not even leaving a note or anything. Just a ‘see you later’. A lie. A hollow, mean, sick lie. She could’ve said something. Or—she could’ve said nothing. 

No, it was fine.

As he made his way to the throne room, for what he hoped was the last time, he let his mind shut down. There was nothing more to think about, not that he hadn’t let consume him all this time. It was all going to be over soon. He didn’t have to keep ruminating on everything he’d lost.

Sliding down the wall of the throne room, Mettaton dialed Sans’ number and put it on speaker.

He picked up after the first ring. That was unusual.

“hey, what’s up?”

“I.. You..” Mettaton struggled to find the right words, something that wasn’t ‘kill me now’. That was too.. direct? “I want you to do it now.” 

“i don’t..” It wasn't clear whether Sans was meaning to say he didn’t want to, or he didn’t understand. But when he spoke again, his voice had shifted. “i’ll be there in a sec.” 

“I didn't tell you where I am.” Quietly, Mettaton thought he could hear shuffling coming from Sans’ microphone.

“..got a hunch.” And then he hung up. Ever mysterious, this one. Never wanted to divulge any information beyond surface level. 

It didn’t take long for Sans to show up, walking through the door to the Barrier rather than the door to New Home. Mettaton, deciding not to question it, waved him over. No point in learning about his quirks with such a short time left. 

“you know, you got a perfectly good throne right over there..” Sans didn’t argue further, however, and sat on the floor next to Mettaton.

“I prefer the floor,” Mettaton said, his voice distant even to his own ears. He really didn’t want to talk, or exchange pleasantries on a day that was anything but. He just wanted it to be over.

He waited, not making eye contact with Sans. Refused to even look in his direction. 

After a considerable amount of time, sitting in nothing but accompanied silence, Mettaton lost his patience. What was up with this stalling?  “Are you going to do it or what?”

Sans didn’t seem bothered by his snappiness—he held onto Mettaton’s arm, actually. Like they were only cuddling. “don’t you want to talk? even just for a minute.. or two?”

“No. You’re going to try to talk me out of it.” 

“of course i am. i don’t want to do this.” Sans’ voice was so.. calm. Soothing, even, but not enough. He’d never been enough, no matter how badly Mettaton wanted him to be. No matter how badly he wanted Sans to save him. 

Mettaton sneered, anger the first real flicker of emotion he’d allowed himself to express. “You said you would.”

Sans’ face darkened. “i- i don’t know what i was thinking. i can’t go through with this.”

“Why not?” Mettaton spat, trying to pull away from him.

If anything, Sans’ grip tightened, his fingers digging into the shiny metal of Mettaton’s arm. “because i-” He hesitated, inhaling shakily. “i- i care about you—i want you to live.”

Mettaton stilled, if only for a second. It kind of sounded like there was something else, something more than the simple act of caring for another.. But he didn’t let that shake him. It didn’t matter what Sans thought. Not anymore. “But I don’t. You want me to be happy, don’t you?”

“..of course.” His gaze softened, but it looked like he was trying to frown. 

Those eyes. Mettaton shook his head. “Then you’ll put me out of my misery. I’ll be happy when it’s over.” He’d had periods of feeling nothing before Alphys was gone, but ever since she left, he’d longed for those episodes. So much emotion, and none of it did him any good. He wanted not to feel anything anymore, and this was the only way.

“i’m not going to do it.” He sounded so decisive. 

Mettaton’s face twisted in frustration. “You can’t change your mind now, Sans! That’s not fair! You said you would do it!” He snapped. 

“this isn’t fair!” Sans argued, but he didn’t sound angry. Just.. scared, if anything. It was disturbing. Large, nervous eyes, and an unending smile. That smile, once something that Mettaton admired, now seemed nothing but a reminder of what could've been, had their fate not become so twisted.

They were quiet for what felt like forever, until finally, Mettaton whispered, “..Please?” He looked down at Sans, eyes wide. “I.. You.. I always wanted you to- to save me, but.. It’s never worked. But you’re still the only one I trust to.. do this.”

“what do you mean, ‘save’ you?”

“It’s like something is.. broken within me, and I thought you could fix me, but you.. you can’t.”

Sans’ face fell, if only slightly. Can’t do much when you can barely express emotion. “..and i needed to know this, why?” It really wasn’t clear if he was genuinely hurt or not. It never was. 

“I’m trying to make you understand why this is my only option.”

“but it isn’t, mettaton, i don’t have.. i.. we don’t have to-”

Cutting him off, Mettaton insisted, “Yes we do. You have to kill me. Please. This is how you can help me.”

“..i.. i can’t..” Sans sounded so.. feeble. He wasn’t like this a few days ago. He sure had a lot to say then.

“Yes you can. Just, um. Think of all the times I’ve said something mean to you.” A little bit of a weak idea. He could think of plenty, so maybe it would work. Hopefully. Anything to get this over with faster.

“that’s.. what?”

“Yeah, and then when you’re mad about it again, you’ll be able to kill me.” Mettaton didn’t mean to sound so sarcastic. He was serious. Anger made a lot of people violent. Maddy, Undyne, himself..

“do you seriously think i would do that?” 

No, not really. But Mettaton didn’t trust any of his assumptions about Sans—he was too confusing. Always acting like he had something to hide, but so.. open, at the same time. It didn’t make any sense. So, sure, maybe he could be violent. Or maybe not. He never adhered to anyone’s idea of him. A walking contradiction.

In a way, that was charming. Too bad Mettaton wouldn’t ever see him again after this.

Deciding not to answer, Mettaton looked away and narrowed his eyes. “..Alphys would’ve killed me,” He mumbled. 

Actually, he didn’t know if that was true, either. Maybe he could’ve pulled another ‘malfuctioning robot’ stunt, and that there was no fix besides scrapping him. And she wouldn’t dare reveal their secret, so she’d have no choice.

But there was no point thinking about that, because all she was anymore was dust scattered in the lab’s basement—and this wouldn’t even be a possible scenario if she was alive. All of this madness started because she left him. She abandoned him.

“maybe if you insulted mew mew kissy cutie,” Sans said, with a morbid laugh, which kind of pissed him off. The tension worsened, palpable in this already suffocating room. Mettaton parted his lips, ready to object, but─ “no. she wouldn’t have.” Sans continued─ kinder, this time. 

Mettaton turned back to Sans, keeping his eyes slitted. “How do you know?” It was a rhetorical question, of course. He couldn’t possibly know.

Sans.. rolled his eyes. Was this really the time? “‘cause i was better friends with her than you.”

“W-” Something between jealousy and frustration flared within him. “Why would you say that?” That wasn’t fair. Sans didn’t even know about Mettaton and Alphys’ history. Maybe he’d been friends with her longer, but better friends? No. No, they couldn’t have been. They couldn’t have had a deeper bond than Mettaton did with Alphys. That didn’t make any sense. Alphys was his best friend, even if Mettaton hadn’t ever admitted it aloud. Even if he should've treated her better, he would’ve been nothing but a shitty, pathetic ghost, left to rot, without her. Not the beloved ‘Mettaton.’ Not the king of the underground.

“oh god, wait- i didn’t mean it.” Scrambling to fix his mistake. Typical, never leaving what's left alone. 

“..Yeah, you say a lot of things you don’t mean.” Mettaton tried to pull away again. Sans wouldn’t let go. Yeah, that wasn’t the only thing he wouldn’t let go of. Was it so hard to just kill someone? Angel above!

Sans’ eyes narrowed, if only for a moment. “i’m.. choosing to ignore that—this can’t be it. there has to be something else. keep going to therapy, or-”

Mettaton interrupted. Had to shoot that down quick. “No. It hasn’t helped before, why would it now?” Ruins Dummy was not at all equipped to handle such baggage. It was a miracle he’d even gotten a degree, with how completely and utterly unserious he was. 

“because- you’re not- you’re not giving your therapist anything to work with! you use your time just to talk shit about people or complain!” Sans’ grip tightened further, something like pain shooting up Mettaton’s arm.

“I keep saying this—I can’t talk to him about anything serious. I can’t talk to anyone.”

Sans tilted his head. He looked like he was trying to frown. “..you vent to me all the time.”

“Because you make me feel safe.” That was Mettaton’s attempt at comfort, but it didn’t sound genuine. Why didn’t it? He meant it. Sans did make him feel safe. And almost whole. For the few hours of each day they were together. 

“not safe enough for you to stay.” Sans’ voice sharpened, but even now that he sounded mad, he didn’t look it. He just looked.. 

“Yeah! That’s what I keep saying! I want you to be enough so badly, but you aren’t. No matter how much I love you, you can’t fill the—”

The glass of Mettaton’s waist shattered. It was.. such a horrible noise.. And 

Something was

Piercing his 

Chapter Text

no no fuck wait i didn’t mean to do that no why can’t i make it go away what do i do oh my god no no no he won’t stop screaming he won’t stop i don’t want to look but i can’t look away i’m never gonna see him again this is the last time no please i don’t want to keep doing this i don’t want this why did i listen to him no no 

he   grabs my   wrist and  digs his   nails   into    my    sleeve    his  eyes   black out   there’s      nothing      there anymore    i don’t  want this i don’t want this i don’t want this i don’t want this i don’t want this please can i stop now i didn’t    mean to  i  just   got   mad  

“no, no, no, i didn’t—”    i can’t  “no, please, i didn’t mean to, i love you—” i can’t i   can’t he won’t   stop screaming    

and i  can’t   move i can’t     i can’t do anything   i can’t  w  why did i  listen   why did i listen to him  why did i  even   come wwhy ccould n’t   i talk   him ouut of i t   i   didn’t mean  to   i don’t   w  i don ‘t  want   this i don’t   i don’t    i can’t   i can’t  breathe  please   i  don’t want  to see this anymore   but he  won’t   he won’t stop he won’t stop  even if i   look   away i’m  sttti ll l k i lliin  g   h im  i can  still    hear   him   i  can’t   i can’t   i can’t   i   i  ccann  t  n o   no nno   no no  i  no    he  can’t l eave  he  can’t    do  this to   me  he can’t  d i  love   him  he can’t do   this to me   he can’t  leave  he  can’t  make  me   do thh  is   to   him

he       stops   screaming  bu    but he   ’s   he’s still  he’s   maaking   thhis   this        terrible   sound no n  no  no no no  no    no no    no    no  i don’t   want to hear   i don’t   want   to see   i don’t   want this   i don’t i c   i    i can’t  i can’t  i can’t   why   did  it   hhave  to      be          me   why   why did   he m  make  me   hurt   him  i don’t    i don’t want  this i don’t  want i don’t i don’t

he  slumps  over    onto   me   i       i    can     i can    i  can feel    him m      dying   i can   feel   him   dyin g no  i don’t  i i   no   no no   no   no   no no no  no nno  o no  please    

he    lifts his   head and  it’s   like   he’s   looking   at me  and   aannd  he  s  smil es   he smiles  why is he    

i’m not holding    anything 

oh  my  oh my god   ohmy god   oh   my god  oh my god what  what the fuck    what do i    what did i do   what  what am i supposed to    oh my god     oh   oh my g  od  it’s everywhere   i    i’ m   i’ m covered   i n  it oh   my god oh my god fuck what do i do   no no no no no no what do i do i can’t i can’t think i can’t oh my god he's gone oh my god no i can’t i don’t i   don’t know what to do why did i  why did i why why did i why did   why did i  oh my   god   please i don’t   i don’t know how to      what   oh  my god   why ddidn’t    ij ust tell him    no      why didn’t   i   just   stay   home why did i  listen to him   why did  i argue   with him   it was  an accident   i didn’t  mean to i didn’t   i didn’t mean   to  fuck that’s not going to do anything i still did it i killed him who cares if i didn’t mean to   i killed him   he’s   gone   it’s  everywhere what   what do i do what     can   i do  oh my god i can’t think i can still hear him screaming i can’t i don’t know what to do i’m so    i can’t    what am i supposed to   i don’t    i can’t  please i didn’t mean to  what   the fuck   is wrong with me what’s wrong with me why did i  kill  him  please i can’t i don’t know what to do

i   need to   i need to get   help  i

help   

where  do  i  

who     who do i  

where  do  i 

Chapter Text

These breaktime hangouts were a lot more fun without Sans, Maddy thought. And a lot less.. stinky. Because of all the weed. Jeirid had started smoking his own joints for reasons unknown, but would bring in his bong for Ruins Dummy. No fires in the break room! 

And someone finally showed up this time. Maybe because she had to literally drag him here, maybe not.

“MADELYN, TRUTH OR DARE?” 

And yet, after all this time, Papyrus had still never gotten her name right. Regardless, he’d been making insane strides in training, and actually taught her a lot, too.

Maddy raised an eyebrow. “..Madison. Dare.” It was kind of a pointless question. She always chose dare. She liked to live on the edge!

“I DARE YOU.. TO BE.. NICE AND KIND FOR ONE HOUR!” What. No! What? Why? What!

Cursing him internally, and trying not to curse him externally, Maddy tried to form a ‘nice and kind’ sentence. “You- you can’t just- I- Damn it, damn it, damn it!” 

Did not go well, clearly.

“HA! CAN’T INSULT ME, CAN YOU?” Papyrus looked too damn smug for a guy about to be dared to hold a conversation with Aaron.

Maddy scoffed. “Whatever. Shyren, sweetness, truth or dare?”

“..truth?” Shyren was really starting to gain her wings. It was such a lovely sight, especially with the place she was at when they first hired her. Shyra’s falling down really took a lot out of her—but now? Sometimes she would say full sentences!

“What happened with your last agent?” Maddy raised an eyebrow cheekily.

“fired him.. ha ha..” That was surprising! Of course everyone had heard that she wasn’t being represented by her old agent, a loooong time ago. That was why Papyrus took over.

Maddy gave a toothy grin. Well.. more like fangy? Was that a word? .. Didn’t matter. “Ooh. Interesting.” Really, that brought up more questions, but alas.. the game must continue. 

“napstablook..?”

Napstablook brought their ghost-laptop today. A real worker bee.. Even on break. Their commitment was something to look up to, at least. “oh.. um.. dare, i guess..”

“..say something mean.” Shyren smiled. The mischief!

“oh.. okay.. ruins dummy.. i don’t like your bow.”

Ruins Dummy flipped his head around—quite literally, like, it did a backflip?—to face Napstablook. “What. What! My bow? Not even my bowtie? My head bow?” For emphasis, he pointed to the pink bow on his head. Yep, that’s the one, buddy. 

“it.. doesn’t go with your.. uh.. cloth..” Napstablook snickered, covering their mouth with a little ghosty hand. 

“You don’t go with my cloth!” 

Their face twisted, like they were holding back a really big laugh. “...what..? um.. anyway.. burgerpants, truth or dare..?”

Jeirid rolled his eyes—probably because Napstablook called him Burgerpants. But Maddy didn’t think they meant it maliciously. Maybe they forgot, or maybe it was another sign they were finally starting to walk on their own.. um.. Well, the analogy didn’t quite work, but the intention was there. “Truth.” Coward.

Napstablook thought for a while, then mumbled, “..why are you so sweaty..”

Maddy started to cackle. Such an unexpected question! Honestly, she’d wanted to know the answer for forever, but Jeirid seemed a little.. sensitive. Good thing Napstablook clearly couldn’t care less. Oh, they were hilarious and didn’t even know! Maybe they did. Maybe they were a comedic genius.

“Man, I’m just nervous, I don’t-”

The door to the break room opened, carefully, kind of weakly. Like Shyren was the one behind it—but she was right over there, so..

Sans stumbled into view, mumbling inaudibly, and.. what the hell? He was covered in dust, it was everywhere. You don’t just naturally come across that amount of dust. It’s created. 

The sight Made Maddy gag. Her ears pinned back, and her tail bristled, starting to lash. 

“OH, HI, SANS!” Papyrus sounded much, much too casual for the current situation. Did he not see the clear crime scene right in front of him? 

Oh, maybe not, because he was wearing sunglasses. Indoors. 

Maddy could see Shyren recoil in.. disgust? Out of the corner of her eye. Why wasn’t anyone saying anything? The only sound, now, was Sans’ nonsensical muttering and heavy breathing. Could he speak up? Make it seem like he knew he was even there?

Fine. Maddy herself would have to be the one to break the silence. “..What. The hell.” It came out through gritted teeth and hostile eyes. 

He wouldn’t look up. He was just.. staring at his hands. “i- i don’t- i- i don’t know what to—” 

“Speak up! What the fuck is that?” Maddy hissed, pointing to the dust coating Sans’ face, his hoodie, his.. everything. It was... 

“h-he.. he told me to.. and i didn’t.. i.. didn’t.. mean to..” The way he was speaking about it—a horrifying realization set in, and Maddy stiffened. No, it couldn’t be. He could only deal 1 HP’s worth of damage. There was no way he could take out someone like that. No, this was all wrong. 

Faintly, she could hear everyone else reacting, but it felt a million miles away. There was a roaring in her ears, like she was standing in the middle of a waterfall. 

“You didn’t.” Even her own voice sounded muffled. She’d left Mettaton alone for an hour. Maybe even less. All those times Jeirid teased her for going on break as a bodyguard—she didn’t think this would be the end. Of all people, she thought he’d be safe with Sans, because they were dating, but.

Clearly not.

Clearly he had no loyalty. No morals. No compassion. No ability to think of anyone but himself.

“i can’t.. i don’t.. i don’t know what to do..” And now he wanted to act like a victim. Like his own ‘boyfriend’’s dust wasn’t all over him. Like the king’s dust wasn’t all over him. Like her cousin’s dust wasn’t all over him. 

Against better judgment—No, there was no better judgment, not in a situation like this—Maddy lunged, but her claws only swiped at the air. Someone was holding her back. “You- you- you wretch! I’ll kill you! I’ll destroy you! You sick bastard!” She yowled, her voice strained and terrified, despite her rage. She thrashed wildly, energized by a fire she’d never felt before. Who in their right mind would even think to restrain her? He should be executed right where he stood, as brutally as possible. An eye for an eye. A kill for a kill. 

“MADDY, STOP! THAT’S NOT GOING TO DO ANYTHING!” Of course it was Papyrus. Kindhearted to the end, even when his brother had committed an unforgivable, unjustifiable crime. He had too much faith. Too much good within him.

Maddy snarled. “Don’t defend him! Let go of me! He- he killed my-” She continued to struggle, even clawing at Papyrus in a desperate attempt to get free—and give that murderer what he deserved. 

The murderer in question stood frozen in shock, still staring at his hands like that would do something. 

She could hear Napstablook over her own shouting. She wouldn’t dare to look back and check—hearing their choked sobs was enough. The only thing she could see was that killer just standing around, and the only thing she wanted to see was his own dust scattered on the ground. 

Chapter Text

The royal guard had been comprised of only two members during King Mettaton’s reign. Maddy, and Papyrus. So, when a certain murderer committed regicide, it was up to them to decide what to do with him. Maddy had obviously volunteered to personally execute him, but.. she held a certain sympathy for Papyrus that made her think, maybe—they should.. hold off, for now. At least until they found out what to do. So they’d opted to toss him in prison and confiscated his dusty clothes. Conveniently, and weirdly, he had an almost exact backup outfit. 

Well, prison for now was a locked and barricaded room in the castle. That would have to do until they found a viable place for a real cell.

No one had been informed yet, outside of the ‘MTTeam’. In other words, this group was keeping the most devastating secret the underground would ever hear. It was bad enough when King Asgore passed away, but he didn’t have nearly the cultural impact in the modern underground that Mettaton did. He was like their own personal Angel. What would they do without him? It’d be like the second Asriel. Just when all hope seemed to already be lost, there would come another wave. The cycle would continue. Was this really how life had to be? Surely that couldn’t be it.

Maddy took a deep breath. “..Okay, so.. does anyone know how to force everyone’s TVs on? That’s the only way an emergency message would get to the entire underground.”  

Her mourning veil made everything red-tinted, since she’d opted out of the traditional black. It was more accurate, anyway. The rage still burned within her. Instead of this meeting, she should be beating that murderer to a pile of dust.

“YOU KNOW WHO WOULD KNOW HOW TO DO THAT?”

“..Who.”

Papyrus dropped his head like he was praying. “METTATON..”

Maddy’s ears flattened. “Okay, and how does that help us now? What are we going to do, ask his dust?” Her words came out sharp, guarded—even if she was acting strong, his death had really.. fucked her up. She didn’t even know why. They weren’t close. They never had been, but when he abandoned his whole family just to go become a celebrity, it cemented that he didn’t really care about any of them. 

And yet, she cared about him. Even more, actually, now that he was dead. It felt like she had to preserve his memory, his legacy. It was wrong enough that they’d buried Sans’ old hoodie. But it really would’ve been the chosen ‘favorite item’, wouldn’t it? 

The thought of it made Maddy's metaphorical skin crawl. To love someone so much, and that’s how they repay you. By taking your life.

“I’M SORRY, IT’S JUST.. WHAT AM I GOING TO WATCH NOW?”

“..Reruns?” Jeirid snickered. He hadn’t been taking any of this seriously. She didn’t expect him to, but was it so hard to show an ounce of sympathy? At least when people who couldn’t handle the joking were in the room. It was insane to practically rejoice at the death of someone that your friends were close to. 

It’d only been a day, so maybe it was too early to make assumptions, but Napstablook hadn’t said a word since the incident. They cried for most of the first day, but now—now they just looked hollow. Not all there. There wasn’t the slightest bit of emotion on their face. 

And Shyren wasn’t much better. She was upset, that was clear, but she looked.. hurt. And it was weird, because Maddy didn’t even think Shyren liked Mettaton all that much. What with the ‘Alphys replacement’ and all.. But apparently she did. And she was fragile already, because of Shyra, but this looked different. 

Ruins Dummy and Papyrus seemed to be on the same page. They were mourning Mettaton, of course, but not as intensely as everyone else—and neither of them were happy with Maddy's execution idea. Papyrus she understood, but Ruins Dummy? It felt like a personal attack. For one, he was always on her side, and two— That was his family, too! Why wouldn’t he want to see the murderer meet the same fate? 

Speaking of Ruins Dummy, he raised his hand. “I mean.. I could post on UnderNet from his account. That would reach a lot of people.”

“They’re not going to believe that,” Maddy growled. Why didn’t anyone ever have good ideas? Why did she always have to do everything herself?

Papyrus put a hand over his mouth, visibly thinking. The way he moved like a cartoon was comedic, but not now. “WE COULD TRY BOTH. AN ANNOUNCEMENT ON THE TV AND ON UNDERNET.”

“What would that do?” Maddy hissed.

“THOSE AT HOME AND THOSE OUT AND ABOUT WILL BE NOTIFIED!”

“..Okay. Yeah. You’re right.” She was so tired of arguing. Tired in general, too—she hadn’t gotten much sleep. Too busy thinking about her dead cousin and how he could’ve been kinder, and how she could’ve been more understanding, and how his own ‘boyfriend’ murdered him. She just wanted this to be taken care of, and quickly. 

Napstablook silently moved across the room. She didn’t bother checking what they were up to. It was best to leave them alone, anyway—everyone had to grieve in their own way, and she’d let them do so without any interference. 

“Okay, posting it now..” Ruins Dummy typed something on his phone. Almost immediately after he’d sent the status update, it started buzzing and making beeping noises. Well. That didn’t take long at all. “And.. how do we, uh.. get it on the TV?”

“OH, DAMN IT.. HE AIRED ALL HIS SHOWS BY HIMSELF! WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO?” Papyrus sounded almost wistful. Well, okay..

Napstablook.. had already figured it out, apparently. Soon, everyone’s phone was receiving rapid notifications, and Maddy threw hers across the room. Annoying. She didn’t need to see the whole of the underground’s reactions to Mettaton’s death. She’d seen enough.

“..Hey, do you think we should tell the guys at Club MTT?” Ruins Dummy asked, sounding more like an afterthought than anything.

Jeirid perked up. “Oh, shit! I gotta tell Mykaa!”

Chapter Text

They’d all decided what to do. Who would rule, now that King Asgore and King Mettaton were both dead?

Not Napstablook, because they were too fragile.

Not Shyren, because she wasn’t doing well.

Not Ruins Dummy, because he had other things to worry about.

Not Jeirid, because he’d be a terrible king.

Not Papyrus, because there was another plan for him.

Not anyone else.

Maddy. Of course. Violent and angry. The perfect successor to one who was also, arguably, violent and angry. Apples and trees..

Ever the fashionista, she’d changed up her look a little. To look more regal. A princess-y bodice and long white gloves. A skirt that was just familiar enough that she hadn’t changed her entire silhouette. Lighter and longer hair, with more neat pigtails. And longer bangs to cover one eye. As a sort of.. tribute. 

She hadn’t taken off her mourning veil—actually, she attached it to the crown. 

The crown and cape were disturbing to even own, let alone wear, but what was she supposed to do? And it wasn’t like she could clean the cape. That would be removing, like, a fourth of Mettaton’s dust. So she had no other choice but to wear it.

Maddy didn’t waste time making up a stupid posse like Mettaton did. She didn’t have to. Everyone from the previous ‘MTTeam’ stood by her.. with an extra addition, of course.

She could have a little fun. She could have a little happiness. Muffet could become queen consort if she wanted to. 

Maddy hadn’t exactly granted any kind of power to Shyren, but she did let her sleep in the guestroom of New Home—and got rid of those glasses. They were buried, even without any dust, just to give Alphys a proper goodbye. It was the right thing to do, free Shyren from that responsibility, and let Alphys rest.

No one had seen Napstablook for days, but they would accept Maddy’s calls, at least. Even if they didn’t say anything upon doing so. That was okay. It’d even be okay if they never spoke again, as long as they were safe. 

Jeirid and Ruins Dummy had been given the very important job of guarding the murderer’s cell. They weren’t liabilities like Papyrus, who would absolutely free the murderer if he had the chance, but they also wouldn’t try to attack him. According to Ruins Dummy, they just played card games while the murderer still stared at his hands endlessly. And according to Jeirid, he was a real buzzkill. Maddy liked the second half of that word. 

Club MTT wasn’t going to close—it brought people joy and comfort, and closing it would put people out of their jobs. The MTT Resort wouldn’t, either, but the prices of.. everything would be reduced. There would be no reason, or time, for greed in Maddy’s underground. Her sole focus was to free all monsters.

And who would be by her side? 

Muffet, for one, in her new princess-y dress. Even though she was queen consort. From the front, it didn’t seem like she had any Delta Rune imagery on her.. but the sides of her many sleeves were embroidered with it. That was good.

Then.. Papyrus. Maddy wanted him to be the prince. So she’d brought him to the throne room.

They would train here. Sometimes Mettaton would be sitting on the floor, knees to his chest, pretending to watch. He’d say something annoying, and Maddy would ignore him. Maybe she should’ve been more sympathetic.

“Papyrus.” She started.

“YES?”

“Do you want to be the prince?”

“WOW! WHAT AN HONOR!” Quieter, he added, “CAN WE LET MY BROTHER OUT OF PRISON?” She wasn’t even upset with him for suggesting that every time they spoke anymore. If anything, it just reminded her that the underground no longer had a judge.

“No.”

Papyrus fidgeted with his mittens. “..CAN I HAVE A TIARA?” He spoke so tentatively, like there was even a possibility of denial.

It made Maddy laugh, just a little. “Sure.” Seemed like the promise of a tiara calmed his urge to break the murderer out of jail.

His eye sockets lit up.. metaphorically. “OKAY! I WILL BE THE.. PRINCESS!” 

“Yeah.” She wasn’t going to question his decision to be the princess. It fit better anyway. Queen, queen consort, and princess. No kings or princes to be had here.

A lightbulb seemed to go off in Papyrus’ head. “OH, WAIT.. WHO’S GOING TO LEAD THE ROYAL GUARD NOW?”

“Me? I’m not quitting just because I’m the queen. You’re staying in it, too. We need as many fighters as possible, in case another human falls. We will empty the underground.” She wasn’t going to be a coward. Not like the last two kings. Maybe she should recruit more people to the royal guard.

Maddy sent a quick text to Ruins Dummy, to finally update the rest of the underground about the situation. Everything was in order. The murderer hadn’t gotten what he deserved, but close enough. There was a new royal family. 

..He sent a video back. Him, Jeirid, and the murderer playing ‘Go Fish’. 

“Got any.. uh.. aces?”  Jeirid, who looked much happier and maybe even healthier, side-eyed the murderer. 

He didn’t respond. Just mumbled something incoherent.

Ruins Dummy flipped the camera so it was facing him. He had a new bow—black and pink. “Yeah, you keep saying this. I just don’t know why you-” The video ended. 

He texted back shortly: ‘1 sec playing cards’

Chapter Text

(A pink notebook with cat ears. It has a heart-shaped padlock to protect others from opening it, but it’s open now.)

(All entries are written in pink glitter gel pen.)

Dear Diary,

To be honest, I don’t know why it was so hard for Mettaton to be the king. He was grieving, I guess, but so am I. I’m doing just fine. Actually, I might be doing pretty good. Most of our efforts are focused on training the royal guard right now, but there’s still fun things to do. We did a little bit of revamping on the puzzles in the RUINS, to make them less murdery and more fun. If a human falls down, they’re getting killed on sight, anyway. No reason to prolong their stay with easy puzzles. 

I got this idea when I was cleaning out Mettaton’s old house. He had so many diaries with only one entry, just strewn out on the floor like trash. Apparently, it was a collection. They were an interesting read.

I burned them after. For his sake. I also replaced the lock on his front door, and barricaded it for good measure. Nothing to see here.

Dear Diary,

No humans today. I guess it makes sense, because the last human was the first in years. That stupid human. They helped me realize that anger wasn’t always the answer, and then they turned around and killed Undyne! And King Asgore! And, by association, Alphys! And that’s why the murderer killed Mettaton! It’s all their fault. Stupid domino effect. I should’ve brought more knives the first time I met them.

Dear Diary,

Shyren’s been acting.. well, not weird, per se? She’s just been off. She floats around with this look of horror and disgust on her face.. at least she’s doing better than Napstablook. I’m worried about them, but I don’t want to upset them any further. 

Dear Diary,

Fun news: I just got back from a wedding. It was low-key, of course, because how could we feel joy so soon (a MONTH AND A HALF!! LET US FEEL JOY!!!! STOP POLICING US!!!!!) after King Mettaton’s death? Okay, guess whose it was. Jeirid and Mykaa! Underground, say hello to Jeirid Sqiik!!! That’s an awful name if I’m being frank. My name is Queen Madison Mew Mew. Be more like me. 

Actually, this gave me an idea. Maybe I should propose to Muffet. Lock her in as eternal queen consort. I don’t know if I actually will though.. seems too soon.. like I’m just riding the marriage train..

Dear Diary,

It’s weird. Sometimes I’m on top of the world, and then I get like

This crashing wave of grief. I don’t get it. I didn't like him, he didn’t like me, that was that. Why do I only give a fuck now that I can’t do anything? Why didn’t he just apologize for leaving?

Dear Diary, 

Sometimes I feel bad for having Papyrus’ post be at the entrance of the RUINS. But also, like.. he loves puzzles. I’m sure he doesn't mind all that much, even if he is in Snowdin. Better than being stationed in Hotland, though, I guess. He hates that place LOL

Dear Diary,

Ruins Dummy always sends me the weirdest videos. Today he sent me a video that was just zoomed in on Jeirid’s paw for most of it. Then Jeirid said ‘What, man? Are you spying on my cards?’ And then he checked. And he went ‘Oh shit. This is a Candyland card.’ 

Then the video just ended???? I never got to find out how the hell he was using a Candyland card during a game of Bullshit! 

Dear Diary,

Okay I’m getting really worried about Napstablook. Not in the sense that they're going to do something bad, because they can’t, but. I just don’t know how to help them. I’m afraid if I try to talk it out with them, they’ll close themself off entirely. Like, not even return my calls.

It must be rough. I keep thinking about how close they were with Mettaton before he left, and how he tried super hard to fix things before he got murdered.

Poor Napstablook.

Dear Diary, 

Papyrus REALLY doesn’t want me to execute the murderer. Muffet does, though. Who holds more power? A queen consort or a princess? I wish I knew, but there never was a princess or a queen consort. Just a king, a queen, a prince, and some kid.

Dear Diary,

Just got back from Club MTT. I thought the vibes would be off, but I was sorely mistaken! It was crazy in there! Also apparently Catty and Bratty weren’t dating until very recently????? This is news to me. I thought they were always a couple.

Dear Diary, 

I’ve been making good progress with the new royal guard. Obviously, I didn’t fire any of the existing members, I just added more.

I learned a lot from being Undyne’s training dummy, and then I learned a lot from Papyrus and I equally training each other. If a human never ends up falling down I’m gonna be PISSED!!!!!!!!

(The ink is still fresh.)