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 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.

/drowns

[punful]

He can't help chuckling a bit at Mettaton's reaction. Yeah, that's a pretty standard response to this stuff. It's just too difficult to explain. You have to start at the beginning, and there's no real beginning to start from. There's nothing to start from.

"yeah. that's what most people say."

He wonders if half the time--half of the incredibly small handful of times that he's ever talked about this--if people just think he's making shit up. If maybe it's some kind of delusion, or an over-complicated joke, or if maybe Sans is just completely fucking insane. A guy who doesn't exist who did some things that never happened--it's like when a little kid tells you about their imaginary friend, the one they blame all their mistakes on.

Isn't that kind of what Sans has been doing this whole time?

Even if people can somehow understand the part where there was a monster who is no longer here--people like Frisk and Chara--actually parsing that information is virtually impossible. Retaining it hardly ever happens. Sans could spill everything to Mettaton right now, and the best case scenario would be that Mettaton simply doesn't believe him, and would forget all about it the next day.

The worst case scenario is that Mettaton's mind shatters--and then he forgets about it the next day.

Kind of a lose-lose.

"that's...i guess that's the problem. it's not just me. but, heh. that's my fault too."

If he'd just stuck to his secrets and not given Frisk an inch, maybe they wouldn't have sought such a permanent solution at all. He put the idea in their head. Not just Frisk, either; Chara too. Sans gave them both the option. Made it so that throwing themselves into the Core, any Core, was a conceivable way out if either of them find themselves with no reason to continue, again.

Just find the Rabbit Hole, walk through, and jump. Time-consuming, but simple. Two more people that Sans can barely remember, two more people that the others forget entirely. Two more gaping holes in everyone's lives.

Mettaton laughs and fixes him with a pointed look, and it's sudden enough that Sans looks up at meets his gaze.

"heh." He looks away after a moment. "that's only because you don't know me yet."

*Velma voice* you stop that

[mettatonvevo]

Mettaton continues looking at Sans, even after he turns away.

"You're not the first person to say that to me you know. And it begs the question... when do I know you?"

When does anything he's done count as knowing someone? Where is this boundary line?

"I know you like puns. I know you were a pretty good stand up comedian. I know you love your brother. I know you love comfortable clothes that are easy to sleep in. I know you can be thoughtful with gifts. You like business because when you strip it all down, it's a rather simple process."

He rubs his thumb gently over Sans's hand, continuing to look at him.

"You love to mess around and be silly. You love the stars and everything about them. You're great friends with Alphys... better than me. You don't know how to say thank you for gifts, but you're grateful for them anyway. You love burned s'mores more than a perfect roasted marshmallow."

There's a lot of things he has picked up on from the past couple of months and just being in Sans's presence.

"You have a passion for learning and you care for your friends in your own way. You're messy and odd and there are a lot of things I don't know about you, but there are things I do know too."

There's so much more he could say but he stops. This already feels weird enough. He sighs.

"So where, in all that, can you say I don't know you? I certainly know something. We wouldn't be here right now if I didn't know you in some capacity."

There's a small passing thought in Mettaton's mind. How much does he know of me? He's not sure what the answer to that is. He's not sure he wants to face the painful truth of it.

"How is it your fault that it involved other people? I doubt that whatever he did only had ramifications for you even if he was wiped from existence. Do you mean when you talk about it?"

He thinks of asking 'is the subject cursed somehow?' but he feels that may be a bit insensitive.

never

[punful]

When do you know someone, huh. When do you know someone who does nothing but lie and keep secrets, who doesn't tell anybody anything. Even inane, stupid stuff, like the fact that he likes space and stars. He hides everything, anything that has even a chance of being sharpened into a weapon and used against him.

He grins wryly and is about to answer, but then Mettaton keeps speaking. He stays quiet as Mettaton starts listing off traits. Puns, comedy, his brother, comfort and taking it easy, pretty basic stuff. He likes business, well, yeah, okay. He's thoughtful. Uh, sure, he supposes, on the rare instances that he's not thinking about himself.

Mettaton rubs a thumb over his knuckles and keeps going, keeps going with no sign of stopping, and Sans...doesn't know how to do this. Because Mettaton starts digging a little deeper, past the superficial stuff, and it's not like when Papyrus does this. It's not like when Sans gets down on himself within Papyrus's hearing, and Papyrus starts listing off the good things about Sans. Broad, sweeping statements, like Sans is a good brother, Sans is a good person, Sans is loved.

No, Mettaton digs in, goes for the specifics, stupid little things like his preference for burnt marshmallows, things that would be meaningless out of context, might be meaningless even in context. You can deny that you're a good brother or that you're a good person, but you can't deny something ridiculous and factual, like a marshmallow preference.

And how long has Mettaton been paying attention, anyway, and why? And when the hell did he get so damn observant? Only he's been like that the whole time. He has an eye for detail. He's practically a genius when it comes to details. He notices things, and people don't expect him to, just like people don't expect Sans to notice things. What, the guy who sleeps through his shifts and does nothing but tell puns?

But why bother? It's Sans. It's just Sans. There's--there's no point to noticing things like that about him. All these neutral, factual, objective little things, instead of--instead of the way most of the other people in his life notice the subjective things. Papyrus, Alphys, the kids. Hell, even Gaster had been like that.

What's the point in seeing all those stupid little things? What's the point of digging in like that? If Mettaton has noticed this much, he must have noticed that all he's going to dig up is garbage.

Why didn't he just stop back when he realized don't piss off Sans if you want to live?

He doesn't know what to do with this. And that scares him. The confusion scares him, the vulnerability scares him. How much Mettaton has seen scares him; how nice Mettaton is being scares him.

He doesn't deserve this.

He's been staring at the floor this whole time, looking for patterns in the carpet, sitting still and trying not to tremble too much. There's that feeling again like he needs to get out, be anywhere but here. Be alone somewhere so he doesn't have to think about how goddamn terrifying it is that people care about him.

He doesn't speak until well after Mettaton has finished.

"i don't get it." Why bother? "i don't get why you care."

Papyrus bothers because they're brothers, and because Papyrus has a good soul. Alphys bothers because they're so damn similar, have similar problems and backgrounds, can relate to each other. The kids bother because--because he's pretty sure he's not a real person to them, just a sort of tool they can use to measure themselves by. A concept. A metric. A barometer.

A sword.

Mettaton, though, Mettaton can't possibly be gaining anything from this.

He shakes his head. Stop it. Stop thinking so hard about it. Just because he doesn't get it doesn't mean it's not true or valid. You can't go around denying other people's feelings. That's how he keeps running into trouble with Frisk and Chara, after all.

Just move on.

"i'm one of two people who remembers anything about him. so if people learn anything, it usually comes from me."

He finally pulls his hand away from Mettaton's--not sharply, not a tug--and folds his hands in his lap.

"frisk tried to erase themselves because of what i told them."

>:( !!!!!!! also uh suicide mention cw

[mettatonvevo]

Mettaton, for his part, shrugs. "I wish I could answer that with anything other than 'I just do', but I think it comes with being friends with someone. On some level you have to care."

It's why he failed Alphys so utterly after she gave him his body. Because he stopped caring. And when he stopped caring, he stopped being her friend.

Perhaps he was right. Perhaps he really was incapable of caring for others. His friendship with Sans will only lead to that being revealed again.

Sans pulls his hand away and Mettaton doesn't stop him. He ignores the pang of loneliness in his heart. He grins ruefully, looking back to the wall.

"So we're the same then. We've both told someone something and they used it as a weapon to try and kill themselves."

What a horrible thing to have in common.

"As hypocritical it is for me to say, it's not your fault. Frisk has been... unsettled like that for a long time. You can't predict everyone's reactions to what you say."

He hopes hearing that will help Sans more than it has helped him, whispering it to himself during the late nights when everyone is asleep and he's alone in the mansion, thinking of the forest and the dark shadows of the trees.

"Who else remembers him?"

Mettaton certainly is curious. Who else knows about this mysterious Monster that destroyed Sans so utterly?

[punful]

He shakes his head a little, grinning faintly.

"on some level, i guess, but you don't--you don't have to put in this much effort. it's just me."

It's just Sans, and it's not like he's reciprocated. It's not like he's put in an equal amount of effort. He doesn't know all those little things about Mettaton. He--he knows that there's a lot more to him than he lets on. He knows Mettaton isn't just some superficial pop star. He knows that...Mettaton likes to hand sew things. Knows that he loves Napstablook. Knows that he can be pretty damn funny when he wants to be.

Knows he had some kind of truce with his Mirror. Knows Mettaton was jealous of him, and might still be.

Knows he's dismissive of bad parents. Knows he's got a streak of Justice a mile wide.

It's probably not enough, right? He hasn't been trying hard enough to get to know him, because he never tries at anything.

"yeah...guess we...have that in common."

He hadn't thought to draw that comparison until just now. But Mettaton is right. Just because the ins and outs of Gaster's accomplishments and eventual erasure are a bit scientifically complex doesn't mean it's not pretty much the same.

They both said too much, and someone almost died because of it.

So Mettaton gets it. He actually does get it.

"yes i can. predict it, i mean. because i knew. i knew that about them. but i told them anyway. i didn't think...i didn't think they'd take it that way, but...i should have. i should have known. it wasn't just frisk. every time i talk about it, something goes wrong."

Everyone he goes to for help. Everyone he asks, even without getting into the details. All the ex-scientists he sought out back when he was still trying to piece things back together, all the people he left confused, trying to sort through the things they knew and the things they didn't.

And Alphys. God, Alphys. Even if they'd eventually reconciled, the crap he put her through...

"if i hadn't told them, frisk would have found some other way. i know that. but i didn't help. i just made it worse."

Even when he tries to help, he makes things worse. Isn't he making this worse right now?

"i can't tell you that. sorry."

He's already screwed himself over here. He's not going to drag Alphys under the bus with him. Not again.

[mettatonvevo]

"You know Sans, despite what you may think, it's not that hard to care about you. It's quite easy."

Worryingly so, all things considered. He hadn't wanted to fall into this desire for friendship, this flow of kindness he's in, but it's here. There is no way he won't regret this.

"It's pretty easy to blame yourself for other people's actions, but that takes away their own agency. Perhaps you should have been more careful with your words, but in the end, Frisk decided to twist it into something that would suit their ends."

It feels... cruel. It feels cruel to speak of Frisk like this but the fact remains that they still made their choice. Mettaton respects them enough to know that they have the power to move mountains and that their choices matter. And so do their consequences.

"You can't blame yourself for other people's mistakes. And sometimes you have to accept that you won't be... perfect when you deal with them. That you may add fuel to the fire because you couldn't see that you were trying to put it out with kerosene. You thought it was water."

More platitudes. More desperate, wishful thinking. He hurt Napstablook and he hurt Alphys and who knows how many countless others; all because he couldn't see past his own bullshit.

"I'd say this is going rather well, all things considered. I haven't blown up and you seem pretty stable, so clearly there is some way to speak about this without doom raining upon us both."

He nods a bit solemnly at Sans's refusal to name whoever it is that still remembers that Monster.

"It's all right. As I said before, I don't want to force you to say something you don't want to say"

Even if the curiosity is eating at him.

[punful]

He snorts, grinning faintly. "heh. don't think i believe that."

Maybe for someone like Papyrus, who cares freely and easily. Someone who can encourage Sans to change but still accept his myriad faults. Mettaton, though? Seems like too much wasted effort.

He's quiet as Mettaton speaks further, frowning again just slightly. That's...that's a pretty good point, isn't it. Blaming yourself for someone else's actions takes away their agency. Frisk made choices. Chara made choices. He gets that. The things they've both done, here and back home, have been their own choices, just as his choices have been his own.

It'd be ridiculous to blame himself entirely. He just should have done better. Should have done so much better. He didn't help; he just made things worse. At times, his actions just reinforced whatever choices the kids made.

He's not responsible for their choices, but he sure as hell didn't help.

You won't be perfect when you deal with people. That makes sense, too. Sans has always been crap at comforting people, at saying the right thing. Sometimes you just can't know what's going through someone else's head. Sometimes you just can't predict what someone's going to internalize, or if they're going to take something the wrong way.

Right. He's known that for awhile. Wasn't that why it was always better not to try at all?

He got into this nasty habit of trying, and that's why he keeps ruining things. Too late to break the habit now, isn't it? It comes with caring. And he can't just stop caring about any of them. Not the kids, not the others. Not even Mettaton.

"heh."

It's just much too late.

"god. this just...really sucks, huh?"

[mettatonvevo]

"It's fine if you don't believe me. I know how I feel."

He doesn't say it hard, it's not harsh, but there is a conviction there that speaks volumes. Mettaton will not be swayed. ...At least not now, not in this moment.

Mettaton chuckles.

"Oh yes. This sucks a lot."

He wishes Sans could tell him what was going on. He wishes he could tell Sans what is going on. But while the abyss between them has shrunk, has closed so much that the gap is easier to step over, Mettaton still holds back. If he knew what Sans was thinking, he'd think that perhaps it shouldn't be too late. That perhaps, when it comes to Mettaton specifically, he should think of letting him... go.

Mettaton shifts for the first time in awhile, turning to duck his head under the bed to check on Mini. The tiny robot sits under the bed, quietly glowing. Mettaton chuckles a little, pulling himself out again.

"It seems Mini went into sleep mode. The poor dear must have overloaded themself earlier. That tends to happen when they get very emotional."

They don't have the same kind of battery life as he does; eventually he'll have to ask Alphys for something more efficient for them. But for now they are fine.

He looks back at Sans. "...How are you feeling?"

[punful]

Mettaton believes it, even if Sans doesn't. Not like Sans can judge him for that.

The robot moves away to look under the bed, and the moment--whatever it was--passes. Sans shifts a little as well, tilting his head back against the side of the bed. God, he's tired. Talking is exhausting.

"heh. kid's got the right idea."

He checks under the bed for a moment to find that 4 has apparently gone to sleep as well. Just the sight of him and Mini makes Sans yawn. He sits back up and leans against the bed again.

"me? tired, mostly, heh. but, uh..."

He closes his eyesockets for a moment, thinking. Choosing his words.

"this was...okay. talking. i kinda...i, i actually feel a little better, i think."

He peers at Mettaton.

"you?"

[mettatonvevo]

Mettaton settles back against the bed, smiling a little. At least Mini is... happier than before. He still needs to make things up to his darling child but that's a plan for the future. For when Wonderland isn't flooded with water. And time isn't resetting.

"I'm feeling pretty good myself. I'm glad you feel better."

It's probably a drop in the bucket of Sans's problems and needs to talk about them, but all the same he feels grateful to have helped at all. He... feels a little lighter himself, in fact. To help and be helped is better than he expected.

"Perhaps I needed to talk a little, too. Thank you for listening, Sans."

[punful]

Sans smiles at Mettaton, and it's genuine.

"heh, hey, you know...any time."

He yawns again, not bothering to hide it.

"really wears you out, though, huh? emotional stuff and all."

He's glad, he thinks. If nothing else, he's glad he and Mettaton were able to clear the air. It would have been a shame if they had just left things the way they were.

"think i might...nap for a bit. that okay? if i'm not awake before the air starts running out again, you can wake me up."

[mettatonvevo]

His smile is as genuine and real as Mettaton's and it feels like a breath of fresh air. Then Sans says 'any time' and for a short, perilous moment, Mettaton wants to cry. To reach out and just let it all out. It's the second time he's felt this way during all of this and it's just as hard to reign it back. But he does. Because this, whatever this is, the aftermath of this vulnerable moment, shouldn't be ruined by Mettaton being so... messy.

"It does. I feel like my battery life has dropped a bit during all of this."

His tone is relaxed and friendly as he nods in response to Sans's question. "It's absolutely fine, dear. And I'll do that, don't worry."

[punful]

"i know exactly what you mean."

He pulls up his hood and folds his arms across his chest, settling into a more comfortable position against the side of the bed. He could sleep standing up if he wanted.

"thanks, mettaton." His eyesockets slide closed. "you know, for--all of it."

He's asleep within minutes. Eventually during his nap, he slides sideways and ends up leaning against Mettaton, snoring gently.

Friends make the best pillows.

[mettatonvevo]

The silence is easier to deal with now after their talk. It's almost enjoyable to sit quietly at Sans's side. It reminds him of lying on the floor with Napstablook, or when he would read human magazines next to Alphys while she caught up on 'human history'. It's calming.

Apparently Sans in his slumber feels this way too, sliding and leaning against Mettaton as he snores. There's a small moment of shock at the unexpected contact, but it's quickly replaced with a rush of warmth through his soul. He looks at the skeleton for a moment, thinking, then gently wraps his arm around him, adjusting Sans so his neck isn't so awkward in its placement against him. He makes sure not to jostle the monster too much and when satisfied settles down, leaving a casual arm wrapped around the skeleton protectively.

Sleep well, Sans.