Prompt: Mettaton with "I just waist resources and cause problems. It'd be better if I died."


Things are excessively fucked.

They often are, it's par for the course for them, but this time Papyrus isn't even around for him to complain about it with.

He's dead.

And while Sans is sure they'll be able to laugh about it afterward, that doesn't really help the current situation.

Besides, Mettaton is king and that's always a ride.

Sans enters the throne room, the flowers are brown and wilting (nobody takes care of them quite as his brother does). Mettaton lounges on the throne like it's a Persian lounge, looking as aloof as his position bestows him.

Sans knows he's breaking.

"You didn't find her either, huh?" the new king asks, but he doesn't need an answer. They both know where Alphys is. "I can't do this without her," Mettaton bemoans, and he sounds almost human but not quite. "I need- I just can't, ok?"

It sucks, because Sans doesn't even particularly like this guy. "You're already doing it, kind of," he says lamely while he tries not to think of rampaged streets and looted storefronts.

Mettaton turns and stares at him, ever the character judge, sighing dramatically.

"I just waste resources and cause problems. It'd be better if I died."

Sans doesn't know if he's being serious or not, but better safe than sorry. "Don't say that. my brother is dead, you know?"

Not that he will be for long, but that's beside the point.

Mettaton sighs again, less dramatic and more desperate this time, and Sans feels compelled to say something despite himself. Despite hating this outcome and wanting nothing else but to go home and bury his head beneath the sheets until the next reset hits.

He misses Papyrus so much.

"You can't, ok? They need you." He's not good at being encouraging but his brother would be proud of him just for trying, and it carries him forward with fervor he doesn't actually feel. "There's nobody else who can do this. You're kind of literally all they have left..."

God that was lame.

But Mettaton looks at him and he smiles just a little bit, in such a way Sans can really see the hurt there. God, he fucking hates it.

"You're right," he says, slowly, then nods with something like assurance. "Of course you are."

He wipes at his eyes (do robots even cry?), then stands up, back straight, and Sans does admit Mettaton has a certain regal air to him. Maybe if things had been different-

"Thanks, sweetie," the robot says, almost instantly back to his fabulous persona and he pats Sans on the head in passing. "It's time to rule!"

Sans doesn't say anything, waiting for his king to leave the room before visibly slouching.

God, he hates this fucking timeline.


Save Sans 2k17

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