Mettaton walked briskly until Papyrus was completely out of sight, and then he started running. He didn't know what he was running from, but whatever it was, he needed to get as far away from it as he could.

The snow crunched loudly beneath his feet as he sprinted through the forest, startling the woodland creatures around him. Luckily, there were no other monsters around to see this. He gasped for air as he came to a sudden halt outside of Snowdin, thinking frantically of any way to avoid coming across people on his way home.

The only option was to skirt around Snowdin and take the most desolate path he could find through Waterfall. It would take much longer to get home that way, but it would also help convince Alphys that he and Papyrus had been testing Papyrus' puzzles for a long enough time.

Exhausted and numb from the cold, Mettaton dragged himself in the direction of Hotland.

Alphys was typing furiously at her computer, a steaming bowl of instant noodles at her side. She muttered strings of numbers to herself, trying to remember the correct code for the program she was designing.

Suddenly, she heard the door to the lab open. She swiveled in her chair to see…

"Mettaton! You look… what happened?!"

Mettaton's hair was sticking out all over the place and his boots were covered in mud. He was clearly drained of energy. But he smiled reassuringly.

"Not to worry, Alphys darling! Papyrus and I had so much fun with his puzzles, but it was quite dirty out there in the snow. I must have forgotten to look after my boots because I was so engrossed in the puzzles. I suppose that's what I get for wearing a cute outfit for such an occasion. But I have plenty more gorgeous pairs of boots, and I can easily buy a new pair!

"I am feeling quite tired now, though, so I think I'm going to recharge for a bit. Toodles!" And with that, he swept away up the escalator, just as suddenly as he had arrived.

Alphys stared quizzically in the direction of the escalator where Mettaton had disappeared. He always prioritized his appearance over anything else. No matter what. And he didn't seem to be the kind of guy to get all that excited about puzzles. There was no way he had ruined his boots just because he was too excited about Papyrus' puzzles to care.

The lizard sat down at her desk again, trying to think of what could have happened and why Mettaton was lying about it. He didn't seem to be upset, which was a relief. She was still worried about him after his previous breakdown, but he seemed to be more emotionally stable now.

But there was no getting around it. Something had happened when he was out with Papyrus.

Alphys had seen how happy Mettaton looked when he was hanging out with Papyrus at his and Sans' house the other day. Maybe Papyrus really had some sort of effect on him that made him a little less self-obsessed and perfectionistic and more… carefree?

Whatever it was, it seemed from Mettaton's expression to be a positive thing, so Alphys decided to let it go for now. She would ask Mettaton about it later. Papyrus really was good for him!

When Papyrus returned home, Sans was napping in the same spot on the couch he had been when his brother had left.

Papyrus walked over to Sans and shook his shoulder gently. "Sans? Can you please wake up?"

"Mmmf." Normally Sans would have ignored him, but something seemed wrong by how quiet and dejected Papyrus sounded. Normally he would have berated Sans at the top of his lungs for napping in the middle of the day.

"What is it, bro?" Sans asked, sitting up and rubbing his eyes sleepily. As his vision came into focus, he immediately felt concerned upon seeing Papyrus looking utterly despondent. He was crying.

"Papyrus! What's wrong? What happened?" Sans scooted closer to Papyrus as the tall skeleton dropped onto the couch, sobbing. Sans gave his brother a big hug, not knowing what else to say.

They stayed that way for a long time, until Papyrus was too tired to cry anymore. He sat there on the couch, hiccupping, staring up at the ceiling.

"S-Sans. I d-don't know what I d-did wrong. I was j-just trying to be nice. I even b-brought some hot chocolate for us to h-have. I know he was just doing me a favor by agreeing to try my p-puzzles, but what did I do that was so b-bad? He was so angry, Sans. He was yelling at me and I didn't know w-what to do!"

Having worked himself up again, Papyrus started crying for the second time, hugging his brother tight.

"I knew it," Sans growled. "That worthless bag of bolts. What a piece of trash. I swear, if he thinks he can treat you that way, he's got another thing coming. When I find him, I'll… I'll…"

Sans' left eye was flashing blue and yellow, but Papyrus shook his head frantically. "No, Sans, please don't! Don't hurt him. Just… let's just leave him alone. H-he said he never comes to Snowdin anyway and he stays in Alphys' lab most of the time, which is why I'd never seen him in person before. We probably won't run into him again. I just… I want to know what I did wrong, Sans. I thought… he seemed… but he hates me!"

Papyrus curled up in a ball on the couch, still sobbing.

Sans was still furious. "I don't know what happened, Paps, but I do know that you didn't do anything wrong. You're the kindest person I know. No one could ever hate you. Whatever happened, it's all on this robot. I knew from the minute I saw him that he was trouble. So don't beat yourself up, Paps, please. Do you, uh, want me to make you some spaghetti?"

Despite how upset he was, Papyrus gave a small teary-eyed smile. Sans was really trying to make him feel better, even though his cooking was absolutely terrible.

"No, that's alright, Sans. Thank you. I'm… feeling a little better now. But I think I need to be alone for a little while, so I'm going up to my room. I'll see you in a little bit."

Papyrus wiped his tears away and stood up, intending to head up the stairs, but he hesitated. "Really, Sans, please don't do anything to him. Promise you won't?"

Sans sighed heavily. He wanted to give that piece of scrap metal a piece of his mind, but if Papyrus was so against it…

"Ok, bro. I won't do anything."

Mettaton huffed impatiently as he dug around in his makeup bag for his eyeliner. The show was about to start and he had just smudged his makeup, having been careless enough to run his hand through his hair. It was a new anxious habit he seemed to have picked up.

Since the incident in the forest two days ago, Mettaton had been working tirelessly to prepare a new set of performances, featuring all new dance routines and even a new song he had written in a matter of hours. He had been so inspired, he'd barely taken any time to sleep the past couple of days. Alphys had warned him not to push himself too hard, but when inspiration struck, he had to let the creativity flow. He was a star, after all, and his fans deserved nothing but the best from him.

Or, was he pouring his entire self into these impromptu shows because he was trying to avoid something else? Mettaton clenched his fists, scrunched up his face, and forced the thought out of his mind. All that mattered was putting on a spectacular performance tonight. And he would be live in just a few minutes…

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

Mettaton felt the familiar rush of adrenaline that always came right when the curtain fell after a particularly good show. Just as always, performing made him feel much better. Everyone loved him! They cheered him on, chanted his name, fought each other to get to the front of the crowd so he would notice them… He was the idol everyone craved.

But he had to admit, he was feeling a bit tired. He was looking forward to going home to recharge, and then, to give another show tomorrow!

Mettaton strutted back to his prep room, congratulating some of the crew he passed by on a job well done, and packed up his stuff into his trademark glittery pink handbag. Then, wasting no time, he headed out of the building, intending to make a beeline straight for home. He wasn't doing an autograph afterparty this time.

But as soon as he locked the back door to the studio behind him, he was stopped by three hyper teenage girls. One of them was a fire elemental and the other two were slimes.

"Oh my God! Mettaton!" the girls screeched, beside themselves with excitement.

Oh great, Mettaton sighed internally. These were the hardest type of fans to deal with. But he hitched his seductive grin on his face and put his hand on his hip.

"Why hello there, darlings! Did you enjoy the show tonight?"

"Oh my God oh my God yes! It was soooo good!" one of the girls drawled.

Another of the girls pretended to swoon.

"It was your best show yet, Mettaton!" the third one piped up.

"Thank you very much, my dears! I would love to chat, but I have to be going for now. But don't worry, I'll be performing again tomorrow!"

Mettaton tried to squeeze through the line of girls, but they only hovered closer around him. He was stuck.

"But Mettatonnnn," the girls whined. "Can you give us an autograph, pretty please? We're your biggest fans!"

Mettaton was getting more anxious by the second, but he forced himself to wink coyly. "Now now, girls, I couldn't do that! That wouldn't be fair to anyone else who wanted to get an autograph tonight but couldn't. I only sign things at my official afterparties, you know."

But they wouldn't take no for an answer.

"Oh come on, please, Mettaton?"

"We love you soooo much, Mettaton!"

"We literally wanna marry you, Mettaton!"

Mettaton had tunnel vision. He couldn't take it anymore. He shoved past the girls, knocking them aside, and ran off towards Hotland in a panic. As soon as he lost sight of them, he slowed down and caught his breath, trying to gather himself.

That was certainly not the ideal way to handle such a situation, but Mettaton decided to give himself a bit of a break this time. He was a bit stressed at the moment, after all, and wasn't feeling completely up to the task of placating his most unhinged fans.

But no. He couldn't give himself a break. Those girls would already be telling everyone they knew how Mettaton had completely blown them off, and they would certainly be adding a few embellishments to the story. Everyone would hear about it.

Mettaton felt panic welling up inside him as he walked back to Alphys' lab and instinctively started trying to come up with the best method of damage control.

Suddenly he froze as a familiar wave of exhaustion and despair threatened to devour him.

No… Please not again…

You're a failure.

Mettaton sank to his knees, pressing the palms of his hands hard against his temples as if to stop the onslaught of misery from overcoming him.

Can't even deal with a few airheaded fans. No wonder you're such a disaster when it comes to Papyrus.

No. Please…

You're heartless. You're pathetic. You shouted at him and left him alone in the snow after all he did was show you kindness. You don't deserve someone like him.

Mettaton started rocking back in forth in the dust of Hotland, whimpering, pleading for everything to stop.

All you do is mess everything up. You hurt everyone you get close to. No one actually cares about you. They would be better off without you.

No they wouldn't! He made the Underground a better place, didn't he?

What a joke. People only watch your shows to deal with the boredom that comes with being trapped in a place like this. If everyone was free and lived on the surface, no one would need you. No one would care about you. You're expendable.

The robot started hyperventilating. He felt like he was about to suffocate.

Worthless. Disgusting. Expendable.

"AGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!" Mettaton screamed at the top of his lungs, almost breaking his voice box. He started punching the ground with his fists as hard as he could, watching his gloves tear apart and his hands dent and crack, chips of paint and sparks flying everywhere.

Eventually, he slowed down until finally, breaths heaving, he stopped. His hands were mangled messes of metal. But, unlike last time, it didn't feel good. His hands were screaming in pain. But he still felt numb.

Mettaton stood up, his breaths returning to normal as cold resolution set in. He took a deep breath, steadying himself as he continued on home, to Alphys' lab.

All of the lights in the lab were off. Mettaton opened and closed the door as quietly as possible so as not to wake Alphys. He made his way carefully to his room and shut the door, sitting on his bed and examining his brutalized hands again.

You deserve this. You hurt Blooky, you hurt Papyrus, and it's only a matter of time before you hurt Alphys too. Disgusting. They would be better off without you.

Better off without you.

In a daze, Mettaton stood up and walked over to his bureau to look at himself in the mirror. Besides what used to be his hands, he looked just as perfect as ever. A beautiful shell encasing the most hideous soul imaginable.

Mettaton took off his shoulder pads and heels. He took a screwdriver from the bureau and began to unscrew his chest plate. Once the screws were loose enough, he carefully removed them and set them neatly alongside his shoulder pads and heels on the bed. He removed the protective chest plate and added it to the pile.

Returning the screwdriver to the bureau, he picked up a hammer from his repair kit, the same one he had used last time. But this time, he wasn't going to mess around.

Better off without you.

Without hesitation, Mettaton swung the hammer straight at his chest, aiming at his motherboard.