Alphys took a deep breath, knowing that she needed to stay calm for Mettaton's sake. Whatever was wrong with him, it was clearly serious, and she needed to be there for her friend. It was the least she could do to make up for all of the horrible things she'd done in the past.

Shaking her head vigorously, Alphys got changed, grabbed her coat, and stepped out of her lab. She intended to head straight to Mettaton's studio, but she hesitated. As much as she wished she could be strong for Mettaton on her own, she felt like she needed some support here, and there was only one fish she could count on for help.

Alphys turned and hurried over to the riverperson. "To Waterfall, please!"

It was late and Undyne knew she should quit training and go to bed, but she was in the zone, focused entirely on hitting the dummy in front of her house square in the chest from fifty yards away. Her eyes narrowed as she grounded her feet and pulled her arm back, ready to launch her spear…

"Undyne! Undyne!"

The fish turned on her heel upon hearing the panic in Alphys' voice. "Alphys, what's wrong?" she asked with concern, her spear dropping to the ground, forgotten.

"It's M-Mettaton," Alphys gasped, having clearly run from the riverperson's station. "I don't know what happened but something is really wrong and I don't know if I can help him on my own! He's never acted like this before! W-what if he's hurt or, what if… what if someone tried to ruin his show or he…?"

"Alphys!" Undyne interrupted. Alphys froze, her mouth agape and fists clenched tightly. "It'll be okay, Alphys. Whatever it is, I'm sure you can help him. Where's he at?"

"He's at his studio. He just finished his last performance of his tour. I thought he would be happy right now," Alphys answered, wringing her hands.

"Then what are we doing standing around here for? Let's go!"

Undyne started to stride back towards the riverperson's station but looked back when she realized Alphys wasn't following. "Hey, Alphys," she said, kneeling next to the lizard as tears rolled down her yellow face. "I promise, everything's gonna be fine. I may not be the biggest fan of the robot, but I know you can cheer him up, and I'll be there supporting you. Let's go?"

Alphys looked up at the fish, who was smiling at her encouragingly with her scaled hand extended towards her. She swallowed and took Undyne's hand, feeling a burst of resolve.

"Let's go."

Warning: Self-harm upcoming. If you don't feel safe reading about that, skip to the next chapter. Please take care of yourself! 3

Upon reaching the studio, Alphys and Undyne headed straight for the back entrance, dodging monsters left and right who were chatting animatedly about Mettaton's performance as they left the venue. Alphys dug in her lab coat's pockets for her keys and opened the door to find the hallway completely dark. All of the crew must have left immediately after the show. At the end of the hallway, however, opposite of the backstage entrance, she could see a faint light.

Alphys glanced at Undyne, who gave her a determined nod. The lizard took another deep breath and walked briskly toward the light, which she knew was coming from Mettaton's prep room.

She knocked softly on the door. "Mettaton? It's me," she called. "Can I come in?"

She was met with silence. Alphys was really scared now. With Undyne by her side, she slowly opened the door.

Mettaton's prep room, while a little messy with various pink and sparkly clothing items and makeup strewn around, seemed perfectly normal. However, the main lights surrounding the celebrity's mirror weren't turned on. Only the small lamp in the corner of the room was on, and on the ground next to it sat...

"Mettaton!" Alphys squeaked, covering her mouth with her hands.

The robot was a complete mess. He was slumped against the wall, utterly defeated. His hair, usually shiny and styled perfectly, was now limp and tangled, falling messily over his face. His normally flawless makeup was horrifically smudged and there were trails of mascara running down his cheek. His robotic skin looked even paler than usual and his normal undereye was dark and puffy.

Undyne couldn't help but flinch when she saw him. Not because of his dreadful appearance, although it was shocking to see him in this condition, but because the side of his face that was normally covered by his bangs was on full display. Until now, he never let anyone see that side of his face, except Alphys.

Mettaton was still wearing his trademark heels and shoulder pads, but he seemed to have had tried fixing some sort of malfunctioning with his arms, as there were dents and scratches in the soft metal of his forearms and wires sticking out all over the place. He hadn't moved since Alphys and Undyne entered the room, simply staring blankly at the wreckages of metal that were his arms.

"Oh no, Mettaton!" cried Alphys again. "Did you have some sort of technical breakdown? D-don't worry, I'm sure I can fix it! It's probably because of how hard you've been working lately; we haven't been maintaining your body as well as we should have. I'll get you fixed up right away…"

Alphys' words trailed off as she stepped closer to Mettaton and his head jerked up to look at her. In his eye she could see fear, panic, and something like shame. He quickly hugged his arms to himself and brought his knees to his chest to try and hide himself away, turning his head away from her again.

"M-Mettaton?" Alphys bit her lip, unsure of what to do. Everything about his behavior was extremely uncharacteristic. Usually, she could never get the robot to shut up, but now he was refusing to even look at her.

Alphys kneeled in front of Mettaton and gently took hold of one of his arms, extending it to take a better look. The damage that had been done; it was… no kind of malfunctioning could have produced this. The scrapes and deep dents in the metal, the wires stretched and snapped, oil leaking out… this looked… intentional?

Alphys was terrified. "Mettaton?" she whispered as she held his hand. "Did you do this to yourself?"

The robot closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall. Minutes passed in silence, until Alphys wondered if Mettaton might have fallen asleep. Eventually, though, he opened his bright pink eye again, looked squarely at Alphys, and nodded. He clenched his fists as he remembered what had happened before he called Alphys for help.

Tears in his eye and dripping onto the floor, Mettaton gritted his teeth and forced himself back to his feet. He had to hold on to the bureau for support as his vision swam from exhaustion. His breathing was erratic as he tried to keep from hyperventilating, still stubbornly intending on carrying on with packing as if he wasn't completely breaking down.

It was no use, though. The robot flexed his fingers, feeling a frightening, overwhelming urge that he had never experienced before.

Pathetic. Worthless. Useful to no one.

Mettaton shook his head frantically, as if doing so would shake the horrible thoughts right out of his brain. Panic continued to rise in him as he realized that he was too far gone now to turn back.

A total waste of space. Nothing more than a glitzy piece of scrap metal.

The robot sucked in his breath and stumbled over to his bag of repair supplies. He dug around frantically until he found what he was looking for: a screwdriver, a pair of pliers, and a hammer.

Loved by everyone, yet cared about by no one. That's no surprise, though. There's no reason why anyone should care about you or get to know you. You're just an entertainment robot, after all, programmed for others' enjoyment. Besides, this is everything you ever wanted, wasn't it? A life of stardom. What more could you ask for?

As if in a daze, Mettaton walked back over to the bureau and glared at himself again in the mirror. He was a wreck. A wave of gratification washed over the robot as he took in the absolute mess that was him.

Good. The more wretched, the more pathetic you look, the better. You can always cover it up with makeup. All you have to do is keep working yourself into the ground, keep performing every day and night so you don't have time to slow down and think about how miserable and alone you really are.

But that wasn't enough anymore. Mettaton took the screwdriver in his hand and unscrewed a screw near his elbow. It made a soft clinking sound as it fell onto the floor. He continued doing this with several more screws until he could pop open a small panel in his forearm. Doing so, he gazed almost curiously at the wires within.

Pure hatred suddenly coursed through him. Complete and unbridled loathing and disgust for himself. Shaking, his breaths growing more ragged by the second, Mettaton took the pliers and…