[Mettaton shakes and shakes and then he laughs and it's broken and discordant as he leans against the doorway. He grips his face and the smile that rips open his face is wild and crazed.]

Like old times. Like old times? How can we ever go back to that? Why do we pretend we could ever go back?

[His soul glows and it feels like he is three inches removed from his body. He's not connected and he chokes out a small sob. His body. Not his body. His body. Not his body. Hisbodynothisbodyhisbodynothisbodyhisbodynothisbody]

We're trapped in some magical hell hole with no chance of escape and I had my body stolen by a fucking, a fucking triangle, and you don't remember the same things I do, you don't remember the surface and the sun the way I do and no one does and I am always alone, I have to be, that's how it is-

[He can't tell if the electricity popping out of his body is real or just his imagination. What if he vibrated so hard that he moves even farther from himself and vacates this form completely? The thought strangles him, the panic clawing its way up his throat and for a moment he opens his mouth and nothing comes out.]

I can't do this Alphys, I can't, I can't do this alone, but I have to, but I can't!

[He sobs out the last word, finally breaking down. The tears overflow and he curls up to the side of the door, openly weeping.]