[...He knows what they're doing, and for more than one reason, it's not going to work.]
IF I COME ACROSS A NICE HUMAN, THEN ALL THE BETTER FOR ME!! BUT THIS PLACE ALSO SEEMS LIKE IT'S TROUBLESOME, SO YOU'LL FORGIVE ME FOR FOCUSING ON PEOPLE I CARE ABOUT A LITTLE MORE.
[Mettaton doesn't have a rebuttal for that. He missed Alphys so much and that wasn't fair, Frisk!
In fact...Mettaton's actually sort of peeved that they went there just to get him to ignore them, because again. He knows what they're doing. The Frisk he knew already...they were like that too. And he hated it, because nothing he did worked for them either.
He knows his next words should be more carefully measured, especially after how he'd dealt with Sans...but...]
FRISK
IF YOU DON'T FEEL COMFORTABLE TALKING TO ME, PLEASE DO BE MORE FORWARD ABOUT IT.
[A little piece of them, maybe, knows they aren't really being all that fair, but-
Well. Now he's not being fair either, is he? The space between texts lingers, for a minute, two. Long enough that, perhaps, he has time to think that they're not going to reply again.]
I'm happy you're here.
But you shouldn't be happy I am. And if you are, then maybe we don't have the same memories. Maybe the Frisk you know is a nicer one.
[All of the yous he knows are lovely, but he doesn't know them. It's hard to align themself with any of the other them's; the ones they met, when the door let a flood of people through, the ones they haven't.
There are probably worse Frisk's out there, too. Probably. It's funny how no one's ever met one, though. Not to their knowledge.
[...This one. This particular message takes even longer to send than the first, because Mettaton, while normally lightning fast at text messages, found himself typing and backspacing so many times that he loses count.
Then...he just decides to say what's really on his mind. No more pretense.]
I'VE SEEN A LOT OF YOUS. THE ONE THAT I KNEW WAS NOT ONE WHO I THINK KILLED ANYONE. OR MAYBE THEY WERE. TO ME, THAT FRISK WAS STILL MY FRIEND.
BUT YES
I DO KNOW WHAT YOU ARE CAPABLE OF
I KNOW WHAT HAS BEEN DONE AND ALL OF THE DIFFERENT WAYS OUR WORLD COULD TURN OUT.
[There, he has to pause. He's having a hard time maintaining himself. Every time he talks about this, he feels as if he's drifting from himself, like maybe he's not the Mettaton that matters, and he never will be. He's the dead end.
It's hard to focus when he doesn't feel like himself. When he doesn't feel real.]
I LEARNED A LOT ABOUT ME AS WELL. I REALLY CAN BE A TERIBLE PERSON HUH
OH I MEANT TERRIBLE. I'M SORRY. BUT ANYWAY. FRISK. I'M SORRY FOR RAMBLING. I'M SORRY THAT YOU FEEL LIKE YOU HAVE TO DIVERT ATTENTION FROM YOURSELF--AND DON'T TELL ME YOU WEREN'T, OKAY?? I CAN TELL!
JUST
I CARE ABOUT YOU. I CHOOSE TO LIKE YOU, DESPITE WHAT YOU MAY THINK. CAN THAT NOT BE ENOUGH? MUST IT BE COMPLICATED?
Even as they feel their shoulders stiffen, breath catching in their throat, there's- almost a sense of relief, that accompanies it. He knows what they're capable of, and the different ways things could turn out.
They don't have to pretend they're better than they really are. Don't have to; even if he knew a Frisk who was better than them. Or maybe they weren't.
He cares about them, despite what they may think. Can that not be enough?
Must it be complicated?]
I'm glad you know. And I'm sorry that there's stuff to know.
[They're sorry. For all the things they still can't tell him about it, as well. The words that will never, ever come. But he's not asking them why, like Sans. He's just asking if they can-
What? Ignore it?
Just be friends anyway.]
You're not a terrible person. I like you too.
[That part? That's not really complicated at all.]
[Like Frisk, and being the hypocrite he is, he doesn't believe them. Because he knows what he can be. He has seen what he's done with a crown on his head, and he's seen the futility of trying to oppose a human set against the world. And seeing what he could do, experiencing it on the Moira to the point where trying to change it made him become it all the same...it's hard to think he will ever be anything different than a selfish, delusional ghost in a machine trying to make everything just as he likes it.
There's a gap again, nigh uncalculable it feels, but really it's just minutes. Six long minutes before he responds again.]
FRISK
CAN YOU KEEP THAT BETWEEN US? SANS MIGHT CATCH ON, BUT THAT'S ALL. YOU TWO ARE THE ONLY ONES I WANT TO KNOW THIS, OKAY?
[Six minutes is a long time, when those minutes are always ticking forward. A lot of time to wonder about things like...if they can really ignore all of this.
The answer, Frisk thinks, is they can't. It will come up another day. When they don't want it to. They'd try, and make jokes, and stand under the stars together, but it'd come up again anyway. That's just how things went. In the meantime, they could enjoy the time they had.
Let it be known that they tried...and all of that. They're trying.
It's just difficult, when everyone always seems to want different things.]
Our secret.
But also... I don't know if you know other stuff? About other people? Can those be our secret too? Because I don't think they're our secrets to tell.
[They don't tell other people, why someone climbs a mountain. Or eats buttercups. Or absorbs a SOUL.
Not their secrets. Not theirs to say. Not Mettaton's, either.]
I know a bit. Some of it I already knew, but there's a lot I learned here.
[They could probably tell him now, about how they've never seen it. An ending where everyone left the Underground- or an ending where the Underground went empty...in an entirely different way.
But he doesn't like talking about those kinds of things. Maybe it's not even necessary.]
I JUST WANTED TO KNOW IF YOU DID BUT WE DON'T HAVE TO DISCUSS IT IN DETAIL.
I'M STILL TRYING TO UNDERSTAND THIS ALL MYSELF.
[It's hard to get his head around it. He's still struggling with it--which is why he so infrequently talks about it.
Because it makes him question his existence, and the more he does that, the less he feels as if it will continue, or that he's "Mettaton."
Or whether he's dreaming about being somewhere different, and that one day he'll wake up and remember that he's just a murderer for sport left in a cell until it's his turn to kill again.]
Well we don't have to talk about those parts, but I can help if you want to talk about some of it.
[Not that they really understand it any better than he does, but there's probably a bit of a difference between living it, and seeing it. He knows it could happen.
They could make it happen. Every good thing, every bad thing- they just have to try. Or not try at all.
Either way, it's never much fun. And it hardly ever turns out the way anyone wants it to.]
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Come join the fun of indirectly touching on subject matter!
IF I COME ACROSS A NICE HUMAN, THEN ALL THE BETTER FOR ME!! BUT THIS PLACE ALSO SEEMS LIKE IT'S TROUBLESOME, SO YOU'LL FORGIVE ME FOR FOCUSING ON PEOPLE I CARE ABOUT A LITTLE MORE.
THAT INCLUDES YOU, AREN'T YOU LUCKY?
with all the fun of murdering everyone you love!
I think Alphys really missed you. I hope you spend some time with her.
[They try a different way.]
you little shit hdu
I MISSED HER TOO.
I'M NOT GOING TO WASTE THIS OPPORTUNITY
[Mettaton doesn't have a rebuttal for that. He missed Alphys so much and that wasn't fair, Frisk!
In fact...Mettaton's actually sort of peeved that they went there just to get him to ignore them, because again. He knows what they're doing. The Frisk he knew already...they were like that too. And he hated it, because nothing he did worked for them either.
He knows his next words should be more carefully measured, especially after how he'd dealt with Sans...but...]
FRISK
IF YOU DON'T FEEL COMFORTABLE TALKING TO ME, PLEASE DO BE MORE FORWARD ABOUT IT.
hd I? hdU.
Well. Now he's not being fair either, is he? The space between texts lingers, for a minute, two. Long enough that, perhaps, he has time to think that they're not going to reply again.]
I'm happy you're here.
But you shouldn't be happy I am. And if you are, then maybe we don't have the same memories. Maybe the Frisk you know is a nicer one.
I'm sorry.
HOW DARE ANYONE??
Though it does take him a few minutes to respond.]
FRISK
I'M SORRY I SAID THAT, I SHOULDN'T HAVE. BUT YOU HAVE TO KNOW
ALL OF THE YOUS THAT I KNOW ARE LOVELY.
[The ones he's interacted with anyway.]
I AM ALWAYS GOING TO BE HAPPY TO SEE YOU AND I WANT YOU TO FEEL CONFIDENT IN THAT FACT. YOU'RE WORTH BEING FRIENDS WITH.
TIME TO SHUT DOWN THE UNIVERSE, OBVIOUSLY
There are probably worse Frisk's out there, too. Probably. It's funny how no one's ever met one, though. Not to their knowledge.
He doesn't know yet.]
Did those mes kill people.
enjoy this teal deer (i'm so sorry)
Then...he just decides to say what's really on his mind. No more pretense.]
I'VE SEEN A LOT OF YOUS. THE ONE THAT I KNEW WAS NOT ONE WHO I THINK KILLED ANYONE. OR MAYBE THEY WERE. TO ME, THAT FRISK WAS STILL MY FRIEND.
BUT YES
I DO KNOW WHAT YOU ARE CAPABLE OF
I KNOW WHAT HAS BEEN DONE AND ALL OF THE DIFFERENT WAYS OUR WORLD COULD TURN OUT.
[There, he has to pause. He's having a hard time maintaining himself. Every time he talks about this, he feels as if he's drifting from himself, like maybe he's not the Mettaton that matters, and he never will be. He's the dead end.
It's hard to focus when he doesn't feel like himself. When he doesn't feel real.]
I LEARNED A LOT ABOUT ME AS WELL. I REALLY CAN BE A TERIBLE PERSON HUH
OH I MEANT TERRIBLE. I'M SORRY. BUT ANYWAY. FRISK. I'M SORRY FOR RAMBLING. I'M SORRY THAT YOU FEEL LIKE YOU HAVE TO DIVERT ATTENTION FROM YOURSELF--AND DON'T TELL ME YOU WEREN'T, OKAY?? I CAN TELL!
JUST
I CARE ABOUT YOU. I CHOOSE TO LIKE YOU, DESPITE WHAT YOU MAY THINK. CAN THAT NOT BE ENOUGH? MUST IT BE COMPLICATED?
what the heck never be sorry
Even as they feel their shoulders stiffen, breath catching in their throat, there's- almost a sense of relief, that accompanies it. He knows what they're capable of, and the different ways things could turn out.
They don't have to pretend they're better than they really are. Don't have to; even if he knew a Frisk who was better than them. Or maybe they weren't.
He cares about them, despite what they may think. Can that not be enough?
Must it be complicated?]
I'm glad you know. And I'm sorry that there's stuff to know.
[They're sorry. For all the things they still can't tell him about it, as well. The words that will never, ever come. But he's not asking them why, like Sans. He's just asking if they can-
What? Ignore it?
Just be friends anyway.]
You're not a terrible person. I like you too.
[That part? That's not really complicated at all.]
no subject
[Like Frisk, and being the hypocrite he is, he doesn't believe them. Because he knows what he can be. He has seen what he's done with a crown on his head, and he's seen the futility of trying to oppose a human set against the world. And seeing what he could do, experiencing it on the Moira to the point where trying to change it made him become it all the same...it's hard to think he will ever be anything different than a selfish, delusional ghost in a machine trying to make everything just as he likes it.
There's a gap again, nigh uncalculable it feels, but really it's just minutes. Six long minutes before he responds again.]
FRISK
CAN YOU KEEP THAT BETWEEN US? SANS MIGHT CATCH ON, BUT THAT'S ALL. YOU TWO ARE THE ONLY ONES I WANT TO KNOW THIS, OKAY?
our secret. please.
no subject
The answer, Frisk thinks, is they can't. It will come up another day. When they don't want it to. They'd try, and make jokes, and stand under the stars together, but it'd come up again anyway. That's just how things went. In the meantime, they could enjoy the time they had.
Let it be known that they tried...and all of that. They're trying.
It's just difficult, when everyone always seems to want different things.]
Our secret.
But also... I don't know if you know other stuff? About other people? Can those be our secret too? Because I don't think they're our secrets to tell.
[They don't tell other people, why someone climbs a mountain. Or eats buttercups. Or absorbs a SOUL.
Not their secrets. Not theirs to say. Not Mettaton's, either.]
no subject
[Just like that, his text is bold and loud and yet still reserved and somehow unlike him.]
DO YOU KNOW THINGS ABOUT OTHER PEOPLE? YOU'D HAVE TO, BECAUSE
WELL BECAUSE IT'S YOU. RIGHT?
no subject
[They could probably tell him now, about how they've never seen it. An ending where everyone left the Underground- or an ending where the Underground went empty...in an entirely different way.
But he doesn't like talking about those kinds of things. Maybe it's not even necessary.]
Nothing I can tell you.
no subject
I JUST WANTED TO KNOW IF YOU DID BUT WE DON'T HAVE TO DISCUSS IT IN DETAIL.
I'M STILL TRYING TO UNDERSTAND THIS ALL MYSELF.
[It's hard to get his head around it. He's still struggling with it--which is why he so infrequently talks about it.
Because it makes him question his existence, and the more he does that, the less he feels as if it will continue, or that he's "Mettaton."
Or whether he's dreaming about being somewhere different, and that one day he'll wake up and remember that he's just a murderer for sport left in a cell until it's his turn to kill again.]
no subject
[Not that they really understand it any better than he does, but there's probably a bit of a difference between living it, and seeing it. He knows it could happen.
They could make it happen. Every good thing, every bad thing- they just have to try. Or not try at all.
Either way, it's never much fun. And it hardly ever turns out the way anyone wants it to.]