Sans glowered at the pulsing, glowing purple barrier before him, and clenched his jaw as a drop of sweat trickled down his vertebrae. Of course he wouldn't have been able to teleport straight into Alphys' laboratory. That would have been too simple. Of course she would protect herself with cursed walls and spells. Of course. But perhaps...
Maybe...
Experimentally, the shorter skeleton reached out a hand, and bone made contact with glimmering violet. Almost instantaneously, he let out a shriek as agony seized his very core, making it flicker dangerously. His fingers went from ivory to ebony, and before anything else could happen, he snatched his hand away, holding it close and panting. His knees almost buckled, and he took a few steps back to regain his composure, shock crawling down his spine in icy waves.
This magic was strong. Stronger than him. Or perhaps he'd been weakened by his previous encounters? The mere thought of such a thing happening made his shoulders hunch in a mixture of fury and shame.
There was no way he could blast through that! If that stupid weed Flowey were here, he could've burrowed underneath it, negotiated with Alphys- anything other than hopelessly standing here would have been great. He huffed and looked down at Papyrus, who was still limp in his arms.
"...I should've just left you behind," Sans snarled, looking away from his empty and inanimate eye sockets. "This is what you've always been- a hinderance. An obstacle. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have...This wouldn't have-..I.."
For some reason, Sans found himself unable to bring the words making his skull throb into open air. Unable to further express his tumult, he felt his eye flare briefly. The skeleton growled and his grip on his sibling tightened almost maliciously.
"As articulate as ever, Sans," a nearby voice purred, making the skeleton jump. He tensed and took a step back as a lithe, four armed figure approached him from his far right, walking through the barrier as if it were nonexistent.
Two amber eyes stared him down,
"Mettaton," he hissed, scarlet flaring in his eye socket. Mettaton gave him a smirk in response and cocked his hip, spreading his four arms.
"The one and only, baby," the robot crooned, sauntering over with a confident air that made Sans extremely uncomfortable. No one had approached him in such a way before. Almost against his will, he took a step back from Mettaton's taller form and bared his teeth, like a frightened animal trying to ward off an intruder.
"Tell Alphys to stop being a coward and let me through," the skeleton hissed, despite the knot of uncertainty forming at the back of his skull. "Or I'll-"
"Or you'll what, Sansy?" Mettaton cooed, false concern dripping from his voice like a sickening honey as he batted his lashes. "You'll take care of me, just like you took care of Frisk? Just like you took care of Papy here? By backing out at the last minute?"
The robot took utmost glee in seeing the stunned discomfort in the skeleton's eyes, and almost squealed in delight as he saw anxious drops of sweat appear on his bony brow. Alphys had cameras almost everywhere- and Mettaton always had front row seats. After seeing what had occurred between him and Frisk, he reckoned Sans wasn't something to be afraid of anymore, and boy oh boy was he going to milk this opportunity to make him squirm. The robot leaned in so his nose brushed against Sans' and he smiled so wide his teeth shone in the moonlight.
"I'd think twice before calling anyone around here a coward, baby bones," he whispered. "Especially if I were holding the body of my dead sibling in my arms."
With an outraged cry, Sans let one of his arms rear back and slammed his fist into Mettaton's face as hard as he could, flames erupting around his feet as eye lit up.
"He's alive, you idiot!" he roared. "And if you don't make your detrimental peanut of a creator come out, or at least remove this accursed thing, someone is going to die, do you understand me? I- "
The skeleton cut off as a canon was thrust into his face, humming faintly with energy, his rage and growing red aura instantly diminishing out of pure shock. Mettaton's eyes glowed, and he gave a small giggle.
"Sans, did you know that I am loaded with sensors that tell me just how much magic, how much strength, is left in a monster's core? With one scan, I could tell you if Alphys can help your sad excuse for a sibling or if your entire cowardly crusade has been for nothing," the taller figure laughed and continued. "I can tell you if you hold the flickers of life in your hands, or if you hold the very epitome of your mistakes. I can tell you if you've made the right choice, or if you've dashed your entire reign to pieces for nothing in one fell swoop. Don't you want to know that, Sans? Isn't that something, oh, I don't know.. Important?"
The skeleton stared back incredulously at the whirring cannon, frozen. His last encounter with Mettaton had ben rather vexing, yes, but nothing at all like this. What had changed? How did he know about what happened with Frisk? Was Papyrus really dead?
...Was all of this more important than the tiny sliver of pride he had left? Surely it would be a stupid question to others, but it was of utmost importance to him. First Papyrus. Then Frisk, and then Flowey- and perhaps that was necessary, but was he really going to stand here and take orders from this scrap of metal who thought he was better than him? What if Papyrus was dead?
He would have done all of this for nothing. Mettaton was right. Even so..
Didn't the saying go 'Desperate times, desperate measures?' How desperate was he, really? If he helped his sibling and then reunited with Frisk and Flowey- then what would happen, assuming Alphys was still against him?
Maybe all this was for naught after all. The glorious death he'd almost tasted a few hours ago seemed more appealing now than ever, and he half wished Mettaton would shoot him to bits that very instant. He knew that wouldn't happen, though.
Like him, Mettaton was a cat that liked to play with its prey before the meal. The robot took Sans' silence for compliance, and sniggered, retracting his firearm.
"There we go. Let's start with some simple Q and A, yes? What are you doing here, besides looking pathetic?" Mettaton queried, his tone a bit more business-like. "No one is allowed past these lines, except for Asgore, but he's not due for a while. It's important that no one messes up Alphys' work."
There was a brief moment of silence, a bit of shadow covering Sans' face before he spoke. Then it clicked.
"You mean it's important that no one sees her failures, right?" Sans murmured, his teeth clenched. Mettaton squinted, leaning in.
"...What?"
"I said, you mean it's important that no one notices her failures!" the skeleton reiterated loudly, taking a step forwards. "Do you honestly believe that a creature as proud as Alphys would keep her 'wonders' a secret? Of course not, you weren't even made when it happened, were you? You were just created to keep the others at bay, to distract them with something nice and shiny so she could hide her disappointment behind their awe! I bet even Asgore's fallen for it, and maybe that's why he hasn't slaughtered you all already!"
Amber eyes narrowed against scarlet, and all four of Mettaton's arms stiffened. A slow look of confusion took up his face, and he blinked, as if just waking up.
"...I don't know what you're talking about, bone bag, but you better stop," he growled, shaking his head uncertainly. Sans smiled up at him, the act oddly serene, eerily slow.
"...Tell me, Mettaton," he drawled, regaining confidence. "Have you ever actually seen Alphys at work?"
Thick silence filled the air as Mettaton looked away, crossing one set of arms and clenching the fists of his other set, tapping his foot impatiently. He was growing uncomfortable.
"Well, no. Duh. I'm in charge of watching the cameras and making reports. That's my job. I was made to be a surveillance and security bot, you idiot-"
"Wrong," Sans interrupted, his golden tooth gleaming as he grinned wider, looking like a victorious jack-o-lantern. Flowey's intel was finally starting to make more sense. "What exactly did she do with those reports, tin can? Hm?"
"Watch it," Mettaton snapped, rearing his canon once more, lip curling. "She read them extensively, for your information, and sent me out when-"
"Sent you out, hm? To do what? Chase after possible snoops? I'm guessing none of them gave you any sort of lead, or proved to be any danger. Sounds like... busy work to me," Sans offered lightly, a smug look on his face. Mettaton recoiled, incredulous as his processor raced.
"Busy work is given as a diversion that makes someone feel occupied and important while they do nothing- I've been protecting Alphys and her discoveries, and defending this place! I've been keeping contact with some of the outsiders," protested Mettaton, shaking his head as if to clear the tentative confusion and unease from his thoughts. "You have no idea what you're talking about, you-"
In a flash, Sans' small hand was around Mettaton's neck, and he yanked him down so they were eye to eye, digging the tips of his bony fingers into the robot's metallic finish with a soft scraping noise.
"I might have cracked when it came to that stupid kid, and when it came to Papyrus, but you mean nothing to me, you scrap heap," he spat, quivering with pent up energy as flames sparked in his eye socket. "I could crush you single handedly if I felt like it. The only reason you're alive to mock me is because despite everything, I find you useful."
The skeleton looked down at the motionless body in his arms and shifted, letting go of Mettaton and snapping his fingers, sending the robot flying into the air with a shriek. He couldn't help but let out a growl of victory. After all that had happened, it felt nice to be back where he belonged. In control. Having the upper hand.
He found it delicious.
"Now, I have some information. Information that your dear Alphys has been hiding from you, bolt brain," he continued. "And from the looks of it, you desperately need to know that you're being played. We all are, technically. But anyhow. You give me the ability to get through, and I'll give you freedom."
This entire time, Mettaton had been writhing like a maggot in agony, limbs flailing.
"Freedom?! Freedom to do what?" he screamed, glowering down at his foe.
"Freedom to choose," Sans answered lightly. "The ability to have a choice in the first place. I'll give you all of that if you'd be a gentleman and let me through. Or, I could just toss you like a dented soda can. Sure, it would be detrimental, but I have a limited amount of patience."
While Mettaton debated, tension hung in the air like electricity in a thunder storm, and when he finally chose to speak, his voice was soft and frail. Fear tinged his words. He'd lost.
"...Fine."
He fell from the sky with an unceremonious thump, sending snow flying, and stood to dust himself off.
"What's-"
"Alphys has been lying to everyone this whole time," Sans interjected, not missing a beat, not making eye contact. He stared down at Papyrus as he spoke, taking in every crack, every dented bit of bone, as if telling the story to him. "Long story short, Flowey told me. Looks like you have holes in your security system, cause somehow, he was able to burrow underneath the barrier and get through. He's seen her in action, and the truth is.. There isn't much happening."
"But Alphys is under orders from Asgore," Mettaton interjected, spreading his arms as if presenting some sort of trump card to end the discussion. "And so are you. You kill them, she brings them to life and brainwashes them into fighting for us. She makes an army, presents it to Asgore, and we win. Everyone's happy. It's simple."
"Except it's not," Sans snapped, turning to glare at him. "Hasn't anyone taught you it's rude to interrupt? Think, you pathetic excuse for a life form. Why do you think it's been taking Alphys ages to send you out to Asgore with any form of results? Why do you think she's locked herself away so well, going as far as to put up this barrier and create you, in order to keep the outside world away? Why do you think she's kept you so busy with watching the cameras instead of doing something of use, like luring more bodies into the underworld to further progress? Well? She's just been using you to cover herself."
Mettaton sunk to his knees, clutching fistfulls of the ground and rapidly shaking his head as it spun. Alphys didn't need him after all? No way- none of that made sense! There was no way Alphys could fail! She was the best at what she did. That's why the king hired her- right? But... if Sans was telling the truth, then.. his previous actions made sense. No wonder Alphys panicked when she found out he'd spared a human. He hadn't seen the rest of it, but her terror had logic now. Sans' supposed betrayal wasn't the source of her fear because..
She wouldn't have been so afraid if she were telling the truth.
"I... so all of this is just a big lie?" he squeaked, looking up at the skeleton. "She's just... stalling?"
"Basically," Sans murmured, turning his back to him. "Once Papyrus is back on his feet, we can meet up with Frisk and Flowey, and gather more allies to help us overthrow Asgore. Because if he finds out his plans have fallen through- well."
Mettaton stood once more, and rubbed his temple, gazing at his feet the entire time. Being proven wrong was humiliating. He was sure he'd been doing the right thing, and then... This? He felt like a used rag. He felt worthless. Like excess. This was all too much to take in. He felt weak. liquid brimmed in his eyes, and with a shocked inhale, he realized he had the ability to weep. He hadn't known that.
"... I didn't think it was possible," he said breathily, almost in a daze, the violet wall reflecting in his golden eyes as he tried to dry them. "For things to change so quickly, I mean. I honestly thought.."
He tilted his head to look at Sans pointedly, and the skeleton let out a protesting yell as his pride took a blow at the robot's implications.
"Look, I don't have time for this! The only reason I'm doing anything is because I don't want to die just yet. When I die, it'll be magnificent- I won't leave this world pleading and powerless in my ignorance, under the thumb of some idiot tyrant," he hissed. "I'm doing this for myself. Now are you going to make up your mind and suck it up, or are you going to sit there like a lost puppy?"
Chest heaving, as his face burned, he waited. And waited. And waited. Mettaton didn't turn back around. Instead, his fingers curled into his palms until they became fists. The robot was speechless for a few more seconds, caught in his own whirlwind of emotion. A tear dripped off his chin and landed on the ground.
Slowly, his lips curled into a soft smile, and he squinted, lifting his chin as his eyes glowed, his renewed fervor making them shine like search lights.
"Come on, then, Sansy. We've got a job to do."
This probably needs a lot of editing, and I apologize if it's a boring read, and redundant, and dialogue heavy. But it needed to happen. If anything, I'll re-upload it if any changes are made. As always, please leave all negative comments to yourself.