Don't cross the river if you can't swim the tide

[mettatonvevo]

Who: Mettaton, some closed starters, and YOU!
Where: All around the mansion
When: Throughout the event
Rating: PG-13 unless something happens, upon which this will be changed
Summary: Mettaton is in the no-air-no-problem club, buuut those RESETs are giving him a bit of a run for his money. All well! There’s places to go and things to do, and he’s not gonna let a little water and time shenanigans stop him. …yeah…
The Story:

A.

[It’s a bird, it’s a plane, it’s…. what the hell is that. A rectangular submarine??? If you’re attempting to swim through the halls, have your door open to stare at the water, or if there is a window in your room to the hallway, you’ll catch sight of this robot in a different form propelling himself through the water. Maybe he’s carrying food in a water-tight container. Maybe he’s transporting someone’s pets or other things that need to be moved. Maybe he’s coming to “save” you! (Save being the operative word, depending on if you actually want to see him… and if he’ll be helpful or not.)

Either way, he’s here now. Or passing by. Wanna say hi?]

B.

Swimming through the mansion can be a bit tiring. Especially with the magic reinforcement that is partially behind his water-proofing, is draining his charge pretty quickly. So here he is, chilling out in some random empty room. Don’t worry, he doesn’t breathe; no air is being lost. Maybe he stumbled into your room or maybe you’re stumbling into whatever room he is relaxing in. Either way, here is a dripping wet robot at your disposal. ;)

C.

[Listen. A lot can happen in 5 minutes, right? I bet even MORE can happen if you repeat the same 5 minutes over and over and over and over and over….

Our lovely robot is stuck in a rather persistent RESET that is determined to make Mettaton repeat the last 5 minutes of his life. Why not keep him company and/or get trapped in it yourself! The world is your resetting oyster now that the water has leaked out of the mansion.]

D.
Wild card! Got an idea for your character and Mettaton? Throw it up here and we can go, ha, wild!

((ooc: while one of these prompts is specific for the resets, any prompt can have them involved if you want! Either indicate it in your subject or put it in your description and we can play around with it!))

Comments

[mettatonvevo]

Mettaton is stunned. This... this isn't at all the reaction he expected. At minimum he expected a deflecting joke and for them both to lapse back into silence. At maximum he expected Sans to take the bait and get into an argument with him over whatever.

But he's reaching out now. He's speaking from what Mettaton thinks is the heart and he just... doesn't know how to feel about it. The one time you need Sans to dodge and he takes the hit square on.

"I. Well."

He starts. Stops. Ruffles his hair a little more. Goodness, how do you respond to this?

"Thank you for the. Apology. Though I think I owe you one in return."

No, Mettaton. Stop talking. You shouldn't be talking like this, remember? This is why he gets mad with you. This is why things can go so-

"I should have thought about what I was doing when I thrust that ticket on you. You told me a little about... about whatever happened with you and it didn't even occur to me that I was sort of recreating it. I could have at least given you some warning, or some preparation."

He settles his back against the bed. Whatever. Whatever! He's already talking. There's no stopping it now, apparently.

"I got so wrapped up in worrying about keeping you alive that I didn't give a thought to keeping you safe."

[punful]

It's embarrassing, inasmuch as Sans has enough dignity left in him to ever fully get embarrassed. He didn't even mean to say that much. Could've just left it at "sorry for being weird" and have done.

"just wanted to clear the air is all. move on."

Because he actually kind of misses talking to Mettaton, and there's been like this dark cloud over both of them, this pall whenever Sans thinks about even talking to him. And it's all stupid. It's not Mettaton he's really even been upset with. It's not Mettaton at all.

It's just--he should be past it. It's been years. Time's supposed to heal all wounds or whatever, so why can't he just get over it? Is he just gonna act like a pathetic babybones every time someone gets desperate and tries to help him?

"nah, it's...it's fine." He fidgets idly with a loose thread at the end of one sleeve. "you didn't know. and that shouldn't be something you or anyone should have to worry about. i should be over it by now."

The best part is that it's damn hypocritical. Mettaton does something desperate to save him, and then a few days later, Sans turned around and did something desperate to save Frisk. It's a wonder the kid's been able to forgive him at all--and honestly, he's not entirely sure they have.

And it's--maybe it's a bit confusing. Some kind of cognitive dissonance. Because if Frisk has every right to hate him for taking their choice away, does Sans have a right to be upset for having his choice taken away? Or is that just melodramatic?

Maybe he and Frisk are just so used to having their choices taken away that it's stopped mattering. But that doesn't explain why it still stings when it happens.

"i don't...d'you think it's better for someone to..."

No, he's not going to do this. He's not going to get into this with Mettaton, or with anyone. He settles himself with a softly frustrated sound and stops fidgeting with his sleeve.

"never mind. this event's just wearin' me out."

[mettatonvevo]

Mettaton shakes his head, giving himself over completely to the tide of conversation.

"Just because it's been years since it happened doesn't mean that it won't still affect you. Time can heal but sometimes all it does is put distance between you and the memory. That's it."

It's been years since the other ghosts left the farm, but their departure still hurts Napstablook to this day. And himself, just a little bit.

Sans starts to say something more but then he cuts himself off. Mettaton tries to let it lie like that. Tries to let it rest. But he's a curious bot.

"For someone to what? To talk?"

That's what everyone always says is the best thing to do.

[punful]

"i guess."

He'd asked Undyne once how she'd done it. How does one get better? Training and talking, she'd said. It's a few years ago now, but it's just as irrelevant for him as it was back then. You can't talk about something that never happened, nor can you train it away.

But maybe that's the only way to actually fix anything. To seek help in some way.

Sans is terrible at that sort of thing.

"no." He says it a bit too sharply and forces himself to calm back down and try again. "no, like..."

He doesn't want to talk about any of it, doesn't want to drag Mettaton into this, not when the guy is having his own problems, with his child and apparently with some unidentified Mirror. God, no one should have to be part of this bullshit.

"like...is...is it better to. to save someone's life, even if it means you...you do something, heh, not so great to do it. or is it better to, uh, to let them--let 'em make a choice, even if that means they could--yanno. where d'you...where d'you draw that line?"

[mettatonvevo]

Mettaton doesn't react for a moment. He goes still and so perfectly so he seems almost statuesque.

"That's... a very good question, Sans."

He's tired. He's so, so tired. And the skeleton's words tear open an old wound and the dust seeps out of it and forms into words.

"Of the two times I have been in that position, I have erred on the side of doing the 'bad thing', though I can't say it was a completely conscious decision."

Panic and fear and love and desperation are a potent cocktail when mixed together.

"But... I would rather keep someone alive so that they have the chance in the future to make a different choice, to give their life a chance to be better than before, rather than allow the permanency of death to be their only solution."

He leans back against the bed, giving the ceiling a deeply weary look that settles into the subtle lines in his face where plate meets plate.

"Though, beyond that, I wasn't thinking of any lofty ideals. All I wanted was to make sure you and Blooky survived."

[punful]

Sans isn't really expecting the question to affect Mettaton that much. Sure, it's a pretty tough question, but this seems to hit him deep.

He's quiet as he listens to Mettaton's answer, looking in his general direction but not quite at him. Save the person now, and apologize for how you did it later. It makes sense. If they're dead, there are no more choices, no more futures. No apologies to be made.

Only that's not true. Wonderland brings people back. And back underground, there's always a Reset that scrubs all the dust off any timeline.

He almost misses when things were easier, when he could care less. When it was just him and an anomaly, and all these other monsters he knew or didn't. When he could care about just one person and have that be enough. To not have to think about things too hard.

Also not true. He's always thinking. It's just about all he can do.

"i guess that makes sense."

Wonderland and Resets or not, it's at least the option of a future. Of a Continue. Even just the option is sometimes good enough.

He blinks at the last thing Mettaton says and looks at him fully.

"napsta? they actually...did they actually--go through with it?"

suicide cw!!!

[mettatonvevo]

It's just one day they had said, their glow eerie in the pitch blackness of the forest. An entire day without them. An entire day of knowing why they would be gone, why they were gone, knowing that they had chosen to just... to just...

Even with revival guaranteed, it was still a permanent choice. A permanent scar upon their time here. There will always be one mark of death on them. And the memories will linger and they and everyone who knows them will know.

Mettaton doesn't think about the resets too hard. He knows that technically all of your work in one timeline would be erased for another. But... he'd like to believe that on some greater level than any of them understand, it would make a difference.

That could just be his ego talking though.

"I'm no great moralist, as I'm sure you're aware. I just know that they are entitled to their choice, and I am entitled to mine."

He knows he will get in trouble for this. For speaking about this to Sans, Sans of all people. He's opened up to him once with disastrous results and this promises to be no different but maybe that's ok. Maybe it will finally teach him a lesson. The jealousy is still there, buried under the other problems that have sprung up between them, and perhaps this will finally break them of this odd, ill-fated friendship that refuses to fade between them.

"No. But not for a lack of trying."

His voice is flat, lacking in his usual color and vigor.

"They would have succeeded if I hadn't promised that if they went, I would go too."

He'd walked ahead of them then. Deeper into the forest than they had gone. The branches and bushes had scratched at him. He hadn't noticed really until he was back in his room hours later, looking in the mirror. He didn't go to Alphys for that. He's always known how to buff out scratches.

good happy times

[punful]

He forgets sometimes that Napstablook and Mettaton even know each other. He's not sure how that even happened. Napstablook never seemed to leave their snail farm all that often, and Sans can't see how Waterfall would appeal to someone like Mettaton. All that damp must be hell on circuitry.

But they do know each other, and they clearly care very deeply about each other.

There's that thing about choice again. Maybe that's the best way to think about it. Someone can choose to do something terrible, but you don't have to choose to let them. You can choose to try and stop them. Or stand in their way. There's some subtle difference between making your own choice and taking someone else's choice away; a line that's easily crossed.

"that makes...sense, i think. about choice."

He needs to think about it more.

He rubs the back of his skull as Mettaton continues. He's not sure Mettaton should be telling him this. History has shown that Sans isn't so great at keeping secrets that aren't his own.

A suicide pact. Like Frisk and Chara. No wonder Mettaton is drawing a comparison between what happened with Napstablook and what happened with Sans. Telling someone you'll die with them--that's pretty manipulative. But it seems like it worked.

"i saw them on the beach that day. they said they wanted to..."

To just swim out until they reached the edge of Wonderland, and whatever happens to people who try that, happened. Sans had tried to talk them out of it, in his usual apathetic, half-hearted way. Guess it hadn't worked. Should've tried harder.

"...it's good you got them to stop."

Undertale: the happy RPG where no one has to die!!!!! (also more mentions of suicide cw)

[mettatonvevo]

Mettaton laughs. It's hollow and devoid of any real happiness.

"They were pretty obvious about what they wanted to do, huh? I suspected they were thinking of this when they sent that accidental text to the Network a bit before. Remember? Of all the ways you can die here in Wonderland due to the environment?"

He pulls his legs up closer to his body, resting his chin on his knees. This isn't an elegant or beautiful or even sexy way to hold yourself but right now he doesn't care. It doesn't matter. What performance is there for discussing your cousin's attempted suicide? If he's on stage, it's to an empty auditorium except for the skeleton sitting in the front row.

"I watched them closely after that. I knew they were depressed but as a ghost they can't die in the traditional ways other Monsters can. They are, functionally, immortal. But Wonderland has different laws, different rules that take away that guarantee."

He smiles bitterly.

"I was the one who initially warned them of this. I guess you could say I helped put the plan in their head."

He should have never told them. Just kept them from going out too far. Then again, they never would have gone outside if they hadn't known, huh? He truly was to blame.

It's almost funny. In every single lifetime that Wonderland has put me through, I have gone above and beyond in trying to keep you safe; in taking care of you. I'm sorry that in the lifetime it mattered the most, I didn't.

"They left me a note. They tried to say that they were 'going camping' and that they would be gone for a day. It was such bullshit. They're afraid of the outdoors! How did they think for a moment that that would work on me?"

He shakes his head, some emotion finally seeping onto his face, but the frustration bleeds out quickly.

"...I got them to stop because. When they wouldn't turn around, wouldn't let me grab them and pull them back, I. I knew there was nothing else I could do. So I."

His voice trembles a little as he says this. The room doesn't feel solid anymore. There's no carpeting underneath them, no tile. No, it's leaves. Dead leaves and grass and bushes. It's dark, isn't it? So, so dark.

"I walked ahead of them. I kept walking. I walked deeper into the forest than they had gone. I almost died that day."

He's not looking at Sans. He can't look at Sans.

fuck me running

[punful]

He does remember that. He remembers it making him uncomfortable, uneasy, in the same way that the kids make him uneasy when they say something a bit off. But he'd ended up shrugging it off. Had other things to think about, and he and the ghost aren't that close.

Thank goodness Mettaton was there. Thank goodness Mettaton gave a damn.

He doesn't quite look at Mettaton as Mettaton tucks himself up, sitting with his chin on his knees like a child would. This is private. Mettaton is being vulnerable around him, and that's--he shouldn't trust things like this to someone like Sans. He should know better. Didn't he ever learn what a terrible, terrible idea it is to show vulnerability to anyone?

Anyone but family at least?

He stays quiet and listens, not moving. Mettaton's voice is starting to shake. Sans--he'd had no idea. He hadn't known it had gotten this bad. He always figured that after he walked away from the beach, Napstablook had simply changed their mind.

Mettaton finishes and goes silent, and he's not looking at Sans either. Sans isn't sure what to say, or if he should say anything. How do you respond to something like that? "Sorry" is completely useless.

"i, uh..."

No, that's not right either. Can't say he's glad they're both still here, can't say he can relate, can't say he knows what it's like. It's not about him. He doesn't matter.

"it's...it's good both of you..."

He just isn't sure what to say.

"did...you and them talk about it after that?"

Making it about him again like the selfish little thing he is, because he can't help but hope that they did, because he and Papyrus never got a chance to talk. They both avoided it, and then Papyrus was gone, and it's like--a hole that can never, ever be filled. He and his brother will never be able to sort that out, really sort out how it felt, and Sans will never be able to truly apologize for what he put his brother through. Sans never likes or wants to talk about himself or any of that heavy stuff, but there are some things that truly need to be discussed.

A lost opportunity. So he finds himself hoping that Mettaton and Napstablook didn't miss it as well.

that's a weird way to fuck someone but its ok I dont judge (and the content warning dont stop comin)

[mettatonvevo]

Mettaton gives a small sigh.

"No. We haven't talked about it at all. We just came back to the Mansion and have just... ignored it since then."

They've talked since it happened, but they haven't talked.

"I'm afraid to bring it up, if you can believe it. I'm afraid that if I talk to them about it, they may end up attempting again and I will have to follow through on my promise."

I don't want to die, Sans he almost says, but bites his tongue. He can already feel the tears pricking at the edges of his eyes and he will not cry in front of Sans, he will not! Some dignity needs to be preserved.

He wrestles control over himself again, even as he unconsciously shifts just a little bit closer to Sans.

"I'm sorry. Usually when I talk about myself it's more flash and awe and less..."

He waves a hand.

"Depression."

He gives a dark chuckle as he lowers his hand again.

"I'm here talking about potential death and you're here having actually gone through it. ...I wish I could have helped you then."

The beach, while not as painfully poignant as the forest is for him now, is still a tough place for him to be when he remembers both of his conversations he had had with Sans there.

the pain train don't stop

[punful]

It's so weird to hear the tremor in Mettaton's voice, to hear him sighing. Mettaton is usually so put together. You'd think nothing could shake him.

Though Sans figures people probably assume that about him, too. Everyone has a persona that they project, that they hide behind. Something to keep them safe.

"that's...rational."

It's the same reason he never brought it up with Papyrus. Didn't want to upset him, didn't want to make him cry again, didn't want to make it worse. Didn't want to set himself off, either. He's made sure to be very good at hiding it, but he still catches himself now and then, remembering the way Papyrus's Mirror looked at him, remembering the way the sand shifted beneath his feet, and later remembering the sound of bone impacting his shoulder. The way the clavicle and rib just snapped like it was nothing. Like he was made of toothpicks.

He catches himself thinking about it, and then it's an hour later and he hasn't moved and he's wondering why he bothered getting out of bed if it was going to be that kind of day.

...He's doing it again. Making it about himself. It's different for Mettaton. Mettaton's got a promise to keep, and he's probably better at it than Sans is anyway. Just like Chara had a promise to keep, and followed through with it when Frisk died in Quor'toth. And Sans did nothing.

He realizes he's gripping his left shoulder and makes himself let go. Rubs the back of his neck instead.

"nah. it's okay. event like this makes you...contemplative."

All that crushing water out there, the slow depletion of oxygen. The Resets undoing anything you try to do. Yeah, contemplative is a good word for it.

"and, uh. it's fine. wasn't exactly being receptive to help then. heh. i never am."

Part and parcel of never telling anybody anything.

"dying's, uh..." He pauses. Doesn't want to make this about himself, but Mettaton sounds like he'd rather stop talking about his own problems. Somewhat astonishing, given it's Mettaton. But if that's the case, then maybe talking about it is...

It's just. Hard. It's hard, because he kind of--owes Mettaton now. This is the problem with talking about these things, and this is why he's usually so good at shutting people down when they start, because he doesn't want to know. Because if he knows, then the other person has a right to know something too. It's an exchange, like a debt or something. Quid pro quo. And now he owes Mettaton something, and he doesn't want to, because it's making things about him, and it's letting himself be vulnerable, letting himself open up to people--three things Sans avoids with the same doggedness that he avoids doing actual work.

Maybe that's it. Because opening up and talking is kind of like work.

But he owes Mettaton now, so.

"dying's...easy." He keeps still, keeps his tone neutral, and doesn't fidget. Stares straight ahead at the opposite wall.

"being dead's easy. i guess, uh, maybe that's--maybe that's a weird thing to think, but...i dunno, it's always just kinda been--right there. 1 HP and all. you kinda just get used to the idea that it could just happen. and then it happens, and it's just kinda."

He shrugs.

"it's just kinda what you expect. nothing really surprising. it hurts, and then it's quiet. never anything all that out of the ordinary. not like september was the first time, either."

It becomes rote. You can get used to anything, especially when the human always kills him in the exact same way every single time. You'd think there'd be a permanent line across his ribs, across and down.

"it's the stuff leading up to it, i guess. and then the stuff after you wake up. knowing it was--knowing who did it and how and knowing papyrus had to just sit there afterward. all the stuff you kinda just have to live with."

He gives a quiet sigh, his tone still completely neutral.

"papyrus and i never really talked about it afterward, either, and...i think that's one of the things i regret most about the whole thing. i'll never..."

He'll never get to convince Papyrus that it wasn't his fault. He'll never get to apologize for ruining the goodbye, or for leaving Papyrus to fend for himself with nothing but dust. He'll never get to explain what it meant to save Papyrus's life for once, or what it meant that someone who looked like Papyrus was the one to kill him. He'll never get to sort it all out. Papyrus is gone. He's gone. He's never, ever coming back, and even if he does, he won't remember that it ever happened. That's for the best, but there's still that emptiness in Sans's soul, and maybe that's selfish but...

God, he really is gone. He really isn't coming back. Something catches in Sans's ribcage and he shoves it down. Not here, not now, not in front of Mettaton.

"sorry, i uh. didn't mean to--make it all about me."

[mettatonvevo]

Mettaton gives the floor a few inches in front of him a rueful smile. Rational, huh? He supposes it is. All of this is so, so rational. Emotions and trauma and memories all slotting into place to make this hot mess a reality.

The robot listens quietly as Sans talks about his death. About the experience. About his 1 HP. Mettaton forgets that, sometimes. It's odd to look at someone who seems so whole, so solid, and know that on the inside, somewhere, something is off. That their body isn't like yours and will never function like yours. He's not less. He'll never be less, Mettaton realizes with a bit of a jolt. When did he stop thinking he was better than him? When did he start looking at Sans like an equal? He'd known, logically, that technically the skeleton wasn't beneath him (unless you refer to height) but now- now he feels it. Truly understands it.

He really does view him as a friend. Fuck.

Sans is odd about touch too. It's something he noticed way back when Sans was trying to get a new hoodie and Mettaton had grabbed him to move him. He'd frozen, probably fighting back the urge to teleport, thinking back on it. Mettaton never apologized for that. Funny how that only occurs to him now.

He lays a hand out between them. Silent. He hadn't noticed that he was so close to Sans until there is the barest of shoulder brushing. It's the best he can do right now, this non-verbal question. As it is with the kids, Sans doesn't have to take the invitation for contact. Mettaton makes sure his actions look as natural as possible, to lessen any feelings of coercion. He wants to hug him, but he knows that is not welcome now.

"There's no need to apologize, dear. Not talking to someone before they disappear for forever is a completely understandable regret."

So understandable, in fact, that it's the kind of regret that makes you lie awake at night, wondering where that key of yours landed.

"...He gave me a bouquet. For my birthday. It was late and during that time when the Mirrors crossed over, but it was a beautiful thing. I still have it on a desk in my room."

It has a place of honor next to a hand knit pink scarf. It's never wilted. Mettaton thinks it's one of the few nice things about Wonderland that Papyrus's vibrancy will never die.

"Did Papyrus ever know about whoever messed with your magic?"

It's a gentle question. A gentle prod. If Sans shuts him down, he won't push again. But he's curious. Did Papyrus ever know? Or did Sans keep secrets from his own family too?

[punful]

He's said too much. He's a regular chatterbox sometimes, always speechifying and saying all kinds of empty words. Not as much as Papyrus, but maybe it's something that runs in the family. The difference being that Sans never talks that much about himself; it's always other people. His brother, a lady who likes knock-knock jokes, two kids who keep trying despite themselves.

Sans just...doesn't like talking about himself. Maybe it's not just about secrets; he was like that long before keeping secrets and telling lies became so commonplace. Probably because there wasn't much "self" to talk about, aside from his HP problem.

This isn't...so bad, though. Time and time again, Mettaton proves himself to be a pretty good listener. Hell, a pretty good friend.

Damn.

He hears Mettaton shift slightly and sees Mettaton's hand out of the corner of his eyesocket. Not closing the distance, just...there. An offer.

Real nice of him.

Sans shifts, letting his hand drop between them as well, resting so that their pinkies are just barely touching. It'll have to do for now.

"yeah. but i guess...i guess the point is, uh. yanno. maybe you should talk to napstablook sometime, clear the air. just in case."

He's not sure that Napstablook is important enough to Mettaton that their sudden departure will leaving a gaping hole in Mettaton's soul, like Papyrus's departure left in Sans. But it occurs to Sans that he really has no idea what their relationship is like. If Mettaton was willing to die for Napstablook, though, it must be something deep.

Sans grins faintly at the mention of Papyrus.

"heh. that's like him. he was always your biggest fan. plus he likes pretty things."

Probably another reason why he trusted Flowey right away--but then again, that's just Papyrus for you.

For a moment, Sans's grip on his kneecap tightens. He shakes his head.

"no, he..." He pauses. "well, that's...not entirely accurate. the papyrus back in my version of things never knew. the one who was here..."

He never asked about the metal plate, never tried to dig into that mystery, and that's one thing he's glad he never had to learn.

"he was different. our--our histories didn't line up all the way."

[mettatonvevo]

Sans moves his hand and rests it just barely against Mettaton's own hand and the robot gives a small smile to the wall in front of him. It's nice to have this small contact. It's nice to have the intent of the smallest comfort be returned.

He lowers his head a bit and sighs. "You're probably right. Wonderland is cruel and opportunistic. It'll find a way to wound us no matter what we do; talking to them sooner rather than later would mitigate more pain in the future."

Will he actually do it? He's not sure. As much as he thinks it would be good for them to breach this topic, at the same time it has been so much easier to brush it aside. To move on to other things and pretend it never happened. His eyes drift to the shattered mirror a bit away from the two of them. There is probably another mirror in here, isn't there? When this is over, he's sure he'll get quite the message when he's alone.

"Well he must like pretty things if he likes me."

It's an immediate response, but the energy to it and tone is mild. Mettaton doesn't have the wherewithal to continue forcing his confidence when all he wants to do is lie down for awhile.

The robot notes the hand clench. He shifts his hand a little closer so that their pinkies are flush. It's the smallest of changes but one he hopes is interpreted correctly as a soothing gesture rather than an invasive encroachment of space. He's being as careful with Sans as he was with Chara and knows that in things like this, it is important to give the other person an out if they don't want the contact anymore.

"So your Papyrus from back home never knew that someone hurt you like that? It's surprising you were able to keep that a secret from him; Papyrus always seemed so... observant. Trusting, yes, but also mindful of his surroundings. He certainly saw through my lies, though he was too polite to call me on them."

There's no way Papyrus didn't know what happened back in September. There's no way the skeleton did not know that Mettaton was lying about an 'act' that had gone horribly wrong. He knew. But he was sweet enough to let Mettaton keep his dignity.

"Hm. That seems to be the theme of everyone here in Wonderland from home; none of us align quite the same as the others in terms of our memories and experiences."

He gives the wall a thoughtful glance now, idly wondering if he should check on Mini, who has been silent this whole time.

"And yet, somehow, we've found a way to come together. I think that's beautiful in its own way."

[punful]

"exactly. heh. this place really...really likes to pull the rug out from under everyone. undo anything you've worked on in one moment."

All the hard work everyone's put in for almost a year, and one simple mistake at Halloween almost ruined everything. Quor'toth almost ruined everything. The Rabbit Hole almost ruined everything. It's almost like a Reset. Sometimes he's honestly not sure which is worse.

He hopes Mettaton talks to Napstablook, before that can happen to them.

"heh. he'd always say you were his 'favorite sexy rectangle.'"

Sans was never sure what other sexy rectangles there could possibly be, but oh well. Papyrus had interesting ideas about things.

Mettaton moves his hand just a bit closer, and--it's a sign of comfort, of solidarity or something, but that almost makes it worse. It makes Sans feel guilty. What the hell is he doing, sapping comfort off of anyone even remotely willing to offer it? Should've done a better job of acting okay. What's wrong with him lately? Mettaton has much more important shit to worry about than some ancient history concerning some stupid skeleton.

Still. Sans doesn't move his hand away. Selfish as always.

"he--maybe he suspected." He probably suspected. Papyrus always seems to know when Sans isn't telling the whole truth. He knew something was up, but...

"but if he did, it...ended up not mattering anyway."

He forgot, just like everyone else. Sans's magic just became another blurry memory that Papyrus didn't look at too closely.

"chara and frisk might be the only ones."

Everyone else is just a little off. Toriel, Asgore and Napstablook are from completely different timelines. Alphys, Mettaton and Sans are from the good ending, just a few days or weeks off. And Papyrus was from one of the bad ones, but at the same time...at the same time Sans has no idea how to even quantify that one. Usually it's just the Reset cycle itself where the variation happens, but that handplate of Papyrus's was from childhood. Long before the cycle began.

How do you reconcile something like that? Sans can't even talk about it, and not just because he never talks about anything. No one else knew about the handplate at all. No one else would have any idea what something like that could mean. It was Papyrus's secret, anyway.

He sort of wants to just curl up on the floor again. Stop thinking about any of this.

"guess that's...one way to think of it."

[mettatonvevo]

Mettaton nods silently. Everything you've worked on, everything you've fought for... gone, in just a moment. That's what it had felt like losing Frisk that day in the gardens. He loved them so much but he had let them go. He couldn't get over himself for a moment to think that maybe, just maybe, they were pushing him away on purpose. And then he returned the favor. They fell apart and he did nothing. Not until it was almost too late.

But they came back from that. They both found a way. So maybe not all was lost.

Mettaton looks at Sans and suddenly he wants to tell him about Bucky. About Frisk. About Alphys. He wants to talk about the jealousy, the way it is poisoning this, right now. The mirror. He doesn't know why he's feeling this way; perhaps speaking about anything, anything at all with someone who gives even the smallest damn about him is more addictive than he thought. It's hard to resist.

But resist he does. Even as he takes comfort in the contact with his friend.

"Why did it end up not mattering? ...Did the kids dig where they weren't supposed to?"

There's a level of empathy here that he wasn't expecting for that angle of predicament. But it's there. He knows what it feels like to have Frisk and Chara butt their heads into something private and personal. Even if he has almost completely forgiven them both by now, it still stands that it happened and it sucked.

"Even if they aren't the ones we knew back home, I think by virtue of being here with us, they become ours anyway. Your Papyrus, my Napstablook, our Frisk, our Chara, your Alphys, so on and so forth... in that thread of thought, you're my Sans and I'm your Mettaton. Isn't that funny?"

They're not the same people from the same times, but they are the same people who are here now, making their own way in Wonderland.

[punful]

Resets come in a lot of different forms. It's incredibly easy to kind of see them everywhere, once you have that sort of framework. Every setback is a Reset. Every time someone leaves Wonderland, it's a Reset. When he eventually leaves and forgets everything, that too will be a Reset.

Some things don't Reset all the way. Some things you can't come back from.

Mettaton mentions the kids digging and...that's such a specific way to put it that Sans glances at him sidelong. Did one of the kids say something to him? Bring up Gaster, maybe, or something similar?

"no, it...that was a real long time before the kids were in the picture."

The kids are always digging where they aren't supposed to, but that isn't the issue this time.

"years and years ago. papyrus just kinda...made assumptions about what happened. and i never bothered to explain. eventually, the..."

He grits his teeth for a moment, pausing.

"eventually, the uh, the person who--he kinda--stopped being a factor."

Boy, what a way to put it. What a way to sum up the total erasure of an entire person. Sans shrugs.

"and papyrus just stopped thinking about it."

There were a lot of things people stopped thinking about; a lot of blanks that people never bothered to fill, because they could never be filled. No one thought too hard about who had built the Core. It was just there. It was there and it worked, and in the grand scheme of things, that was all that mattered.

Mettaton moves on anyway, touching on that old doubt, the old feeling of not the right Sans. Two Papyrus-es, and Sans was always the uncommon denominator. The odd one out. The wrong one. But Mettaton has a point, the same point Papyrus was always making--it doesn't matter. While you're in Wonderland, you belong. You belong to each other.

"heh." His grin turns openly wistful. "he thought the same way. no wonder you two got on so well."

[mettatonvevo]

Old history then. Unrelated to the kids and resets. Interesting. He'd never considered that Sans had much of a life before the bits and pieces he'd seen at the Hotel and with the barrier, but it makes sense. He is a full Monster, after all, with emotions and feelings and experiences.

Mettaton blinks, processing the information given him. So Sans got away with lying to Papyrus through omission. That does seem like it would be the most successful way to get something to slide past the skeleton. The way he talks about it though, it sounds like...

"So you and this Monster, what? Split up? And Papyrus let it go?"

Wow. He's sure there's more context here, but a dirtbag ex getting away with whatever he did because Sans didn't tell anyone, let alone his brother, is honestly very sad. Mettaton silently makes a decision to, if this Monster ever shows up in Wonderland, to kick his ass for Sans and Papyrus's sake.

The robot sees the nostalgia overtake the skeleton's face and it's painfully sweet. He really misses Papyrus and it shows. He wishes he could have gotten to know him better before he left; especially since they seemed to share the same views.

"For the little time we had, it certainly seemed that way. He asked straight up for us to be friends and we shook on it."

He chuckles at the memory, relaxing back against the bed and lifting his chin off of his knees.

"I'd like to think I did my best in that regard."

[punful]

Ancient history. The kind that doesn't matter anymore. The kind that, maybe, one shouldn't think about anymore.

It's rude to talk about someone who might be listening, after all.

He sights a bit and rubs at his forehead, bone rasping against bone. It's exhausting. It's always exhausting just to think about this stuff, let alone talk about it.

"it's complicated. a lot of..."

He pauses, frowning as he realizes what Mettaton just said. Wait, "split up"? That's kind of an odd choice of words. Is--is he implying that Sans--?

"wait, we didn't--wow." He gives a rather startled laugh. "wow, no, it wasn't like that. we weren't--pfft. we weren't, like, dating or anything. it wasn't like that. we just worked together."

Him and Gaster, dating? The thought had never even crossed his mind. Well--well, maybe he can't quite say that, if only because he doesn't remember that much. But the idea of it actually happening? Jeez. Not in a million years.

Maybe in another lifetime. Awful lot of worlds out there.

"nah, it was just. complicated."

That's putting it pretty mildly, but there's no other way to really put it, not unless he wants to get into all of that. Which he doesn't, and he won't.

He decides instead to think about Papyrus literally asking his idol to be his friend, and requesting that they shake on it. There's that wistful grin again.

"that sounds exactly like something he'd do."

He'd done almost the same with Chara, always insisting that they were friends, even back when Chara went out of their way to make people hate them. Never would have worked with someone like Papyrus. He's just that kind of person.

"you did good by him. i always appreciated how well you treated him. i, heh. back underground, he used to ask me if i could try and get your autograph, since i spent time at the resort a lot. never really bothered. i kinda...no offense, but i just didn't think you'd care."

[mettatonvevo]

Mettaton will shit talk anyone, especially if they are listening.

You hear that, goop man? You want a piece of this robot? Meet him in the gardens at half past ñ if you want an asskicking.

"Oh. So he's not your ex? Huh. I suppose I misread that completely."

So just a platonic relationship that went terribly, terribly wrong. Either way, poor Sans.

"What did you two work on? I'm assuming you two weren't Sentries together."

He's pretty sure he'd know if that was a thing from either Alphys or Undyne. Though maybe he wouldn't? His connection to Undyne is a little spotty other than flirting with her a couple of times while in her home and Alphys is a bit of a shut in so she might not notice in the first place!

Mettaton chuckles a little, shaking his head ruefully.

"Oh, I would have cared. I always love it when fans come by for an autograph. I would have loved it so much that I would have made an exposé on how wonderful and great it was that my fans reach out to me while throwing flower petals over my gracious self."

He levels his gaze with Sans.

"At least now I'd have some presence of mind to wait a few days before tooting my own horn, so to speak."

He's been getting better. He's been becoming more mindful, more insightful, more... silly. What about this is better, exactly? What about this is-

Stop. This is nice. Don't, just, don't ruin this. Enjoy this while it lasts.

[punful]

"jeez. no." He pauses, and his grin turns almost bitter. "if we had been dating, then the shit he did would've--would've been--"

It would have been a lot more fucked up. His hand goes to his chest almost against his will, clutching at the fabric. Imagine doing that to someone you actually love. Not just a friend or a co-worker or your own personal science project. Someone you loved.

Hadn't...hadn't someone once said that in some way he did love Sans? He can't remember.

You're his favorite.

He lets go of his shirt.

"never mind. listen, i...i know it seems like i'm being...needlessly mysterious, or something. which...heh. i'm needlessly mysterious about a lot of things. i know."

Force of habit.

"but this...i can't talk about this. every time i do, it just makes things worse."

It already broke the kids, all three of them, multiple times. He said himself, don't talk about it. Give them nothing. Sans isn't going to let this break anyone else. Mettaton doesn't deserve that.

Ancient history is best left buried and forgotten. No one has to deal with it but Sans. That's how it's always been. That's how it should be.

"anyway. yeah...heh. you really, uh, ended up being a lot different from what i expected. and this place really kinda...changes people."

For better or worse. Though for the most part, it seems to be for the better. Especially where Mettaton is concerned.

[mettatonvevo]

Mettaton listens quietly and, finally, moves his hand to gently take Sans's. It's not a hard grip in the slightest, with plenty of room for Sans to pull away. Once again Mettaton is struck with how careful this is. How tentative he has to be. It's nothing like with Alphys, where he'd sweep her into his arms and hold her tight. Or with Napstablook, where it's usually one small question and then they either hug or they don't. He doesn't know how things work with Sans, doesn't understand how they do but maybe, just maybe, he'd like to.

"How would it make things worse? Look, Sans, this clearly is something you need to talk about. It seems like it has been weighing on you for a while now and I've always heard that the best way to help these things is to talk. Whatever it is, I can take it. But... I'm not going to force you. If you don't want to share, that's fine. You've already told me quite a bit."

He gives Sans's hand a small comforting squeeze as he smiles wryly. "This place does seem to change people quite intensely. I would never have imagined the things that have happened here between the people I knew before."

Alphys actually agreeing to go on a date with someone who wasn't Undyne? Napstablook reaching out and becoming friends with someone without needing Mettaton to guide them? Even now, here, with Sans, they are both doing something that Mettaton never, in a million years, thought would happen.

"I'd return the sentiment, but I didn't know you that well before. But I'm sure you've changed for the better."

After all, he's pretty sure Sans would never begin to open up like this to him back home.

/sets self on fire

[punful]

He sees the movement. Sees the way Mettaton reaches slowly, giving Sans time to see it coming, giving him time to think about it and pull away if he wants. He doesn't. Mettaton's hand wraps around his and...

God, that must have been hard for him. The amount of restraint must have been incredible. Mettaton doesn't--he doesn't need to think twice about touching people. He's a tactile person, a monster of hugs and friendly grips on shoulders and clasped hands. It must be real hard for someone like that to be slow and careful, held back.

It's probably not fair. People shouldn't have to hold back their affection. But maybe that's hypocritical, and not even in the way that Sans finds comfortable. The kids are like that too, especially Chara, neither of them particularly keen on touch unless it's telegraphed, unless it's explicitly asked for. Chara can barely even bring themself to touch Sans at all, even when the situation is dire--though Sans is pretty sure that a good part of that is because it's Sans.

It's not...it's not like he's touch-averse, exactly. Hugs are nice, physical contact is nice. It's just...sometimes it's sudden. Sometimes it's someone grabbing him, or even picking him up, and it's not like it's violent or even particularly dangerous, but it--it could be. If you're grabbed, if you're held, if you're caught, then you can't move. You can't dodge. You just have to trust that someone knows what they're doing, and Sans, well. Sans has never been good at trusting anyone, or anything.

Except for his brother, of course.

But Mettaton is careful. Maybe he's learned, or maybe he's thinking of the last time he grabbed Sans. He takes Sans's hand, and it's just...it's nice. It's nice of him.

It's too nice. Something visceral in Sans wants to yank away, to put himself at least ten miles from Mettaton, because this is too nice, and Sans has made himself too vulnerable already, shouldn't have been talking about any of this, and the fact that Mettaton is being careful means he knows now that Sans doesn't like being touched suddenly, means that Mettaton knows one of Sans's many, many weaknesses. Means that Mettaton could use that knowledge against him if he ever wanted to, and Wonderland being what it is, he could want to at any point.

And it's too goddamn nice, and Sans just--doesn't know what to do with that. Doesn't know what to do with something this careful and delicate, doesn't know what to do with Mettaton saying, not even for the first time, that Sans can talk to him, that he doesn't have to, but that Mettaton will listen. That he's here, he's solid, as solid as his hand.

It's...scary.

It's scary. That's what it is.

And he thinks of how Frisk offered the same, and how Frisk went on to use even that minimal knowledge to try and erase themself. How Asriel offered, to the best of the poor kid's ability, and how Frisk later said that the kid got lost in his own mind for hours afterward. How Alphys offered, and starts crying without warning, and can barely string her thoughts together, how she says that he shouldn't be allowed to take something from you.

How he'd said maybe it's a good thing that we talk about him sometimes.

How he showed up in Wonderland and said give them nothing.

It always comes back to that, the part Sans remembers keenly, despite the fact that after that he'd said, you need not carry all that you carry alone.

What does he do here? What the hell does he do? Get into all that, delve into all that stupid tragic backstory bullshit, while Mettaton is sitting here holding his hand, while a small robot and an angry cat are camped out under the bed, while the hallways are flooded and time could Reset at any moment?

He's, uh. He's been silent for a bit too long here, hasn't he. He thinks he might be trembling a little. Hopes Mettaton hasn't noticed. Kind of impossible for him not to have noticed, considering.

"i, uh. i appreciate the...the offer. but it's...it's like i said, it's complicated, and...enough people have already been burdened with all this."

Just about all he's good for, isn't he? Deadweight. Parasite.

There's a funny feeling in his soul, like a flood. Like it's all going to come gushing out in a torrent and he's just gonna tell Mettaton everything and, god, part of him wants to. Just like part of him still wants to yank his hand away, even though that'll just open that enormous chasm between them all over again.

"you don't need this crap. you got enough to worry about. it's...just..."

Mettaton squeezes his hand just slightly and it's like something in him cracks.

"i don't know how to--i don't know how to do this."

He feels tense, scattered, but at least his tone is level.

"i don't know how to talk about it. every time i do, someone gets hurt. and that sounds melodramatic, i know, but it's true. this person..." He grits his teeth. "...doesn't exist. he never existed. so it...doesn't really matter, right? it's--heh. it's just--me."

It's just Sans. Sans clinging too hard to a past that never happened. None of it ever happened, so why should it matter? Why isn't he over it?

His grin widens and he gives a tired chuckle.

"you're wasting your time on me."

/gently dunks you into water

[mettatonvevo]

Mettaton sits there, quiet and patient in the ensuing silence. He's looking at Sans and the skeleton's eyelights seem far off and distant. He's shaking a little but beyond the hand holding Mettaton lets him be. He'll answer when he answers and he'll pull away if he wants.

When Sans does finally speak, it takes the robot a moment to really process what he said.

"He doesn't exist?"

How? Was this Monster so impossibly shitty that the universe decided 'You know what? Fuck that guy and booted him from existence? Mettaton pulls himself back. Ok. Try to be reasonable about this. This is certainly more than you expected and if Sans isn't being, like, needlessly dramatic, you need to be as kind as possible.

"Ok. Well. I'm not going to lie to you, Sans, that is certainly not anywhere in the realm of what I was expecting to hear."

No point in beating around the bush here. This is a bit out of Mettaton's depth. But when has a little thing like not knowing what he's doing stopped him before?

"I'd say, though, that despite the, ah, peculiar problem of his lack of existence, it still matters. If it's hurting you, it still matters. If his lack of existence is still affecting you and apparently other people, it still matters."

Then Mettaton, suddenly, chuckles. And looks Sans dead in the eye sockets. "That's not your decision to make now is it? I don't think I am wasting my time on you; therefore, I am not."

Good luck trying to convince him otherwise, Sans. He's a pretty stubborn bot. You gotta be if you want to be good friends with Napstablook and Alphys and Chara now, too.