A/N: So I'm clearly procrastinating on my other Undertale fic, I won't deny that. But I've had this oneshot idea for a while and I couldn't help it... I practically live for Mettaton angst, I don't know... -sweats-
Anyway, **SPOILERS** ahead, specifically for the True Pacifist/True Lab arc, so if you don't know what happens yet, the story may not make a lot of sense, or it may ruin the story of the game for you, so please be careful!
I do not own Undertale, or any of the characters, events, or places mentioned. I am merely a huge fan channeling her inner Alphys. ^^'''
Hope you enjoy the read! :-)
Mettaton bolted upright in bed, metallic vocal chords screaming for breath that he did not need. Cold oil slicked down his forehead, and he wiped at it furiously while checking the clock beside his bed. 3:30 am. Still early.
It was all too familiar for the robot now, waking up in the dead of night with nothing but terror and adrenaline coursing through his circuits. Another nightmare.
Mettaton sighed and positioned himself a little more comfortably on the bed, cradling his bedazzled pink cellphone. He knew who he wanted to call, the one person, ironically, who had started this onslaught of horrific dreams with her stories. And yet, she was the only one who would understand him and the pit of fear that nestled within.
No doubt that Alphys would still be awake, probably getting ready to doze off to reruns of 'Mew Mew Kissy Cutie: School Days.' What an odd pastime, however, Mettaton was not one to judge.
The only question was, would he dare interrupt her with a topic of discussion that would most likely be difficult for her, as well?
He squirmed and dialed as quickly as he could. He couldn't help it if this was the only way to help him get back to sleep. Nobody had to know that the greatest pop idol of all time needed back-to-sleep pep talks.
"H-hello...?"
"Alphys!" Mettaton, regrettably, almost threw his phone from hearing her voice after such a long wait. "Erhm, Alphys, darling. I need your assistance, if you don't mind."
He could hear her shift from the receiver, and sigh sympathetically. "Another bad dream, Mettaton?"
"Er, yes." His face plates heated up. It was so embarrassing, as though he were a small child in need of parental reassurance. It was absolutely absurd.
"Oh no... A-about the same thing that you've been avoiding telling me?"
"Mmhm. It's getting more and more vivid every time I try to sleep."
"Y-you could always try not sleeping. Yanno, b-because you're a robot, and you don't... Really... Need... Okay, you must think I'm pretty dumb right now, d-don't you?" She managed to stifle a chuckle.
"Darling, please. You know I need my beauty sleep, even if I'm always fabulous. It is how the humans do it, after all"
"O-of course. Well, you c-could try to tell me about the dream, specifically. It might help you sort things out better."
Mettaton's vocal chords jolted. If he had a real heart, it would most likely be in his throat right now.
"From where though?"
"Th-the beginning? I guess?"
Mettaton fidgeted. Was he ready to tell her just yet? And where exactly was the beginning for that matter? Every time he had these dreams, there was no definitive start. It would always just be a black void, or a misty corridor or...
Or a dank, dark laboratory.
"W-well..." The robot squeaked, barely able to express himself without a flurry of emotions overwhelming him. With a focused expulsion of air, he proceeded. He would start from where he could remember the most, no matter how much he wanted to bury it away. It was either now, or suffer through yet another terrible, sleepless night.
"It's... Dark. Very, very dark. And quiet. I can hear every small noise, from the echo of a leaky faucet, to the drone of faulty machines. And there's this... moaning. It's all around me, bouncing off the walls, filling me with dread. I pursue onward, somehow drawn to the sound, as ominous as it is, because it is also... familiar.
Each footstep clangs to the floor, as I make my way down this path. Each corner I turn leads to nowhere special, and every door I try to open is locked tight. But the sound is getting louder, and every part of my being knows what awaits me, yet still manages to deny it.
I turn the last corner, and I see them. At first, a pile of unrecognizable, semi-transparent goo, an amalgamation, as you would have called them. But then... Oh but then..."
Mettaton's grip on the phone tightened, and mistakenly pressed a few buttons. It didn't hang up the call, but he ignored the inquiring chirps that came from the other end.
"Metta? A-are you there...?"
He was shaking. His gloved fingers pulsed rapidly, his chest plate heaved, and his ventilation system whirred laboriously. It was painful to continue, but he had to if he would ever find hope of beating these nightmares.
"S-sorry, darling. Where was I?"
"The... A-amalgamation..."
"Right..."
"...They turn around to face me. I'm utterly devastated at what I see. It cannot be possible, can it? I know that all monsters have souls inside of them, souls filled with compassion, hope, love. Souls that inhabit weak, fragile physical forms that cannot handle excessive experimentation. But... What of those who do not... Possess a physical form?
'Bl-Blooky?'
What I see before me... Is my own darling cousin. I remember... Their face, misshapen, as if their ectoplasm is melting before my very eyes. I can't bear to watch them writhe and wince, but I have to help them. I scream, I reach out, but they continue to look at me through sad eyes, grounded. And no matter how hard I try, I can't quite get to them.
They finally speak out.
'M...etta...ton... h.,,..elp...'
Their voice is distorted. Almost as if it were... Someone else's.
'It... h...urts...'
They are crying out, their wails of indescribable sorrow burrowing right through me, until I start to feel hollow, lifeless, soulless. I look down to see nothing but musty tile, and I rest my head in my hands because that's all I can hope to do in order to drown out the awful sound. I'm frozen. All I want to do is take them away from this horrendous place, but I'm such a coward. I can't even face my own dearest family. I can't save them, I can't help. I can't do anything.
Now, the room is spinning, and all I can hear is the echoing of my cousin's voice.
They're telling me that it's all my fault.
I left them alone for so long.
Alone to wither away.
Alone to DIE.
And here I was, thinking that it was impossible for a ghost to die.
But somehow… I killed them.
I left them for dead...
...I... I've failed them in every way possible... I'm such a... a..."
The phone slipped from Mettaton's slackened hold, clanging against metal limbs. He held his head in his hands and began to rock back and forth furiously.
He felt like he'd been taking his cousin's love and loyalty for granted this whole time. Not acknowledging how much he meant to them, and refusing to reunite on the assumption that they wouldn't accept him back.
But he knew. He truly was a coward. Perhaps, now, these dreams were telling him to get it together, because he might have something today and lose it tomorrow.
And he didn't want to lose Napstablook anymore. Certainly not from his own foolishness, either.
"Alphys?" He picked the phone back up, a clear oil streaming from his custom-made tear ducts. "I'm sorry, Alphys. The last thing you need is to listen to me carry on dramatically."
He heard a modest giggle and snort from the other line. It was calming. "Oh please, Mettaton, what else do you ever do? In all seriousness though, I-I never realized just how bad those dreams were. You've never... T-told me before. But I'm here for you. And I support you. N-no matter what."
It was so wonderful to hear those words coming from her, Mettaton loathed to admit.
Before tonight, he liked to believe that he never needed anyone but his audience and the spotlight. His dream was enough to keep him level-headed. A funny thing, what reality-bending nightmares could really accomplish.
"And hey, Napstablook is going to be just fine. But you need to go to them as soon as you can. I know you miss them terribly." She hesitated, as though cautiously picking through each possible word to say. "I-I've grown up a lot in the past little while. I've made peace with the mistakes that kept me tied down, that suffocated me. D-don't you think... Don't you think that you ought to untie yourself, too?"
Mettaton sucked in a sharp intake of air. She was right. The only true way to vanquish these nightmares was to finally grow up and face everything. And he really wanted to see that little ghost's face, to be able to talk and sing and eat meals together again. It was what he truly longed for, even with all the fame.
No more late shows that kept him busy. No more avoiding phone calls. No more excuses.
"Thank you, Alphys. Thank you so... So much."
"D-don't mention it, ehehe. You wouldn't want to ruin your image, would you?"
And with that, they laughed out their teary goodbyes with a promise to meet up in the morning, and a promise to set everything right.
And Mettaton, for the first time in a long time, was finally able to sleep soundly.
End.