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[When the feed clicks on, Mettaton is at the camera, perfectly poised and smiling wide.]

Hello, Wonderland! Sorry for that little hiccup earlier!

[He fluffs his hair a bit, which definitely looks disheveled; an unusual deviation from his usual picture perfect looks.]

I had a small incident with Wonderland's local dream demon BUT! There's no need to fear, darlings, because your strong, amazing hero Mettaton repelled the evil doer! Wonderland is safe and so are the rest of you!

[He smiles, though it falters for just a brief second before he continues.]

Now, let's put this silly incident behind us, shall we? There's no need to worry about any of these shenanigans or torment yourself with worry over me (unless you want to, of course! ♥). I'm sure you'll see my shining face on the network sometime in the future again (minus any and all unauthorized uses of my brand) so I shall let you all return to your daily lives. Bye, darlings~!

[He pauses for a moment, blinks, and then hurriedly gives a cutesy wave and wink to the camera, though it's clear his heart isn't in it. The feed ends there.]

((ooc: Mettaton may respond to network responses but it will probably be sporadic due to the fact that he's feeling really rough right now. For anyone wanting to personally come and check on him, the door will have many latches and locks and Mettaton will not be opening his door for anyone other than close CR, if that. But he's fine. Absolutely fine! Totally.))

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[The scrape of metal on metal, the unhitching and clicking of pins and tumblers being pulled and slotted out of place. Extra locks. Extra security. That's a good sign, isn't it? It means he's...he's taking precautions. Against Bill. Keeping him out.

Or keeping everyone else out instead.

How long has it been like this? Sliding cards and notes beneath doors instead of knocking and visiting - they wouldn't have known, would they? Never asked. Never stopped by to visit.

When the door finally swings open, he stands there, slightly strained, but alive. In one piece, like he says. They search him, his gaze, his demeanor, for any trace of sparking yellow, of the booming voice with the bizarre inflections and almost showman-like verve.

But it's just him.

Just him.

The breath whisks out of their throat in a quiet huff of relief in the same moment they tip forward, arms snapping around his waist in an abrupt, frantic hug.]

[The hug is almost instant and it's a surprise. Mettaton's eyes widen at the sudden contact. It's thoughtless how his arms wrap around Frisk immediately and it's thoughtless how he holds them close.

He's trembling again. He feels them against him, warm and soft and he wants to rip himself away because- because Bill. Bill could be here any moment and use his hands to dig into their back and rip and tear and hurt and he can't let that happen.

But his hands don't rip. They don't tear. Fingers don't move on their own to do more than grip his friend tightly. And it's soothing and terrifying and he's letting those pesky tears fall again.]

I'm ok. I'm all right.

[Comforting words for both parties, he hopes.]

[It's okay. It's okay. He's okay, and unhurt, and they didn't - and it's going to be okay. He's not hurt. Not physically. But something like that in his head - maybe he'll never feel safe. He might not ever, might not ever, and he should.]

Is he...

[What happened?

It's rude to ask right now, probably. Rude to make him relive it so soon after it happened. Sorry wells up in their throat, and they have to choke it down. It's not about you. Don't make it about you.]

We're never gonna let him again.

[Mettaton nods a bit numbly, too overwhelmed by his emotions to trust himself to speak quite yet. Never again. It will never happen again but-

That's a lie, isn't it? Because he didn't make a deal. He didn't do anything to let Bill in, he just

He waltzed in on his own. Forced his way through electricity and wires and settled into his chest and Mettaton didn't know what to do or what was going on and then his legs moved on his own and and and and and]

I don't. I don't know, Frisk. He could do this again, easily, and I... I...

[He buries his face into the top of their head and shakes a little. They're warm. They're here. He wouldn't be hugging them if it was Bill here instead. Remember that. Just remember that.

Steady.]

I'm sorry, dear. This is... such an undignified show.

[Completely unfitting of a star of his caliber.]

[He could do this again. Meaning there wasn't a deal, couldn't have been. Unless Bill's capable of exploiting that sort of loophole...? He would, they're fairly sure. It'd be characteristic of the dream demon to do something along those lines. The need to ask nestles on their tongue, sitting there like a slug until, instead, they let him bury his face where it is and stay there.

Stay there. Steady.]

It's okay.

[Injecting a faint levity they don't feel, they add:]

I won't tell anyone.

[A weak chuckle, the slightest tremble to his frame as he holds them, that's what the joke earns. It's good. It feels nice, even if it feels like the entire world has ended.

Funny how he's looking to the one who usually ends it for comfort here.]

Thank you, dear.

[It's another moment before he lifts his face up, resting his chin on their head. He doesn't want to let go but he knows they're sensitive about contact.]

It's ok if you want to let go. I appreciate the hug but I don't want to overwhelm you.

[He can feel himself settling. He knows he may drift away again, may slip back into the panic and fear but for now he's steady. His feet sure and right on the floor.]

[A low hum as they process that, brow scrunching up studiously before they wrinkle their nose, shaking their head, and merely tighten their grip.]

Mm-mm.

[A burst of something two parts childish and three parts sincere prompts what comes next, a slight grin cracking across the breadth of their features - slightly facetious, but mostly not.]

I'm gonna be your bodyguard now. I'm keeping you safe forever.

[Mettaton... doesn't know how to respond at first. What Frisk says is so painfully sweet and childish. It pulls a well of emotion out of him and his soul glows gently and he laughs. He wishes monster bullets didn't hurt humans, wishes he could express how that makes him feel without the shallowness of words.

Wishes he could just say I do feel safe with you here. But the burden that would place on their tender shoulders... they already bear the brunt of the world, the heaviness of their sins hunching their back and slowly crushing out the sunshine that he knows hides inside their low smiles and quiet eyes.

But it means a lot to him. It means so much to hear this, especially from them, after everything the two of them have been through. It stings, knowing that later he'll pay for this, pay for embracing them. He doesn't know how much he will be able to play this off but... it's worth it. It's worth it, to risk this. It's worth potentially throwing out all of his progress if he can just hold them for a little longer.]

Well if that's the case, Bill Cipher has no chance at getting to me again.

[Even if he could come in at any time, haha. Because what's to stop him from trying again? Would Mettaton succeed at fighting him off a second time? He doesn't know. He doesn't know and it frightens him.]

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[Their mouth flattens into a thin line, slightly exaggerated. But only slightly.]

Mm-mm. I'll SAVE over him until he goes away again.

[They'd known Chara had at least stalled him, annoyed him to some extent by pulling that same trick. Maybe he only regards them as something of an amusing diversion, but when he's inhabiting a body, he's just as susceptible to being yanked back to Point A as anyone else.

If they can't do anything else, they'll annoy him out of Mettaton until he leaves him alone again.]

[Mettaton blinks a little.]

Oh.

[He'd never considered Frisk's SAVE and RESET abilities as something that could be used against Bill. But it makes sense, doesn't it?]

That could be your little ace in the hole. That way I can't hurt anyone. I'd be unable to move, and the same for him.

[It's not an ideal solution. Mettaton would much rather have a more guaranteed way to kick the demon out should he ever come to call again, but this is better than nothing. Mettaton feels just a little safer than before.]

[Unable to move. That's...not very helpful at all in the end, is it? He ends up caught in his own body, stuck in a self-imposed prison, and Bill just gets angrier. More liable to take it out on someone else - like the metal suit he'd be wearing.

Not a good plan. At all.]

At least until Ford can help.

[A slight amendment, but hopefully a helpful one. Ford would know what to do where Bill's concerned. He usually does.]

[Mettaton smiles a little wryly at that.]

Ford and the others from his world would certainly be the ones to know how to deal with him best, seeing as he's endemic there.

[If only he had stayed there, he thinks bitterly.]

...Ford truly is kind. Not just for trying to help me with Bill, but for how wonderful he has been to those he cares about.

[Like Alphys. If there is one common thread that Mettaton and Ford share (other than being possessed by Bill now, apparently) it's their mutual love for Alphys.]

[Personally, they're plenty inclined to agree. Humans were a...complicated situation for them, at least to start with, after they'd arrived back on the Surface, and even more so when Wonderland had deposited them into its own keeping. He and the other Pineses - they'd changed things, even if they didn't always know it.

They'd proved that humans could be good.]

Their world can be scary.

[Bill is the scariest thing in it, mostly.]

But they're here to keep us safe from it.

[Mettaton nods a bit.]

Just as everyone in Wonderland tries to do. ...Well maybe not everyone.

[There are a few people he's pretty sure wouldn't lift a finger to help others and that's a fact.]

...Thank you, Frisk. For coming here. It. It means a lot.

[It's weakness, a huge weakness he is showing again. His mirror more than likely has shifted to watching them standing together in the hallway and he doesn't know how he'll explain any of this to him but that's for later.]

[If it's a weakness on his end, it's one on theirs. A liability, caring this much. Once you care, you can't...there's no really coming back from that, is there? Their head bobs, coupled with a small sniffling of a child who is - is definitely not wiping at their nose with the hem of their sleeve, because they're supposed to be better than this. Crying just makes people feel guilty.]

...didn't wanna lose you. Not again.

[They've lost, they -

They're tired of losing people.]

[They sniffle, their voice hoarse with quiet tears and Mettaton feels small pinpricks at the sides of his eyes.]

Frisk...

[Not again and Mettaton feels his soul twist and he lets out a broken chuckle. He's only going to keep hurting them if he keeps being weak like this. They care for him and want to stay with him and he has to leave them because it is who he is and it's- it's tragic.]

I'm sorry.

[He doesn't explain why. He just holds them tighter.]

Y-you didn't -

[What's he got to be sorry for? He didn't - he didn't do anything wrong. Bill took him, Bill used him, and he used him because maybe his body was presumed to be...to be up for grabs, because maybe he hasn't bonded to it...?

They don't know how ghosts work. They don't know. They'd have to ask Napstablook, to make sure.]

It's not your fault.

[He stills. How can they say that? How can they say that when it is so irrevocably, unequivocally his fault? Both Bill's possession of him and when he pushes them away one day. A day that is getting closer with each passing moment and if he had lungs they'd be paralyzed at this point.]

You're kind to think that.

[They don't know. They don't know that he's the one who spoke to Bill first, that he's the one that kept their friendship going even after knowing the horrible things he did to Ford, knowing that he wasn't someone who could be trusted or even remotely cared for. How can you not blame yourself when you walked into the trap knowingly?

...He doesn't like those thoughts. They stir something else in him, something beyond Bill and his mind drifts to his mirrors, hidden throughout his room.

You know it is a trap. And yet you step into it anyway.]

It's not.

[The words nearly crack with the force of their insistence, low and sharp like splintering glass. It's not his fault, it's not his fault if Bill takes advantage, and does something he doesn't want to do.

Because he doesn't want it.]

Did you want to hurt anyone? Did you want him to use you?

[There's so much, hah, determination behind their words, an insistence that Mettaton can feel thrum through his soul. He wishes he could believe them.]

No. Of course not, no, I didn't want to hurt anyone and I absolutely didn't want him to use me.

[No one uses Mettaton and gets away with it. That's what he'd like to think, at least.]

But Frisk... you don't know the whole story. I was a fool in my interactions with him and that's how I got here. There's no one else to blame other than him and myself.

[His words are hollow and devoid of emotion. A simple statement of fact.]

Why?

[It's a simple question, is it not? Why would it be his fault? What makes him a "fool" in his interactions? Bill saw an opportunity, but he sees an opportunity in everyone and everything he sees. He uses people. That's what he does. That's Ford says he does, and Ford...he'd know better than anyone.]

Why is it your fault?

[They keep asking and prodding and Mettaton grits his teeth. Why? Why? It's so obvious to him and Frisk wants so badly to believe in the good in him when it isn't there not beyond anything shallow that is required for a star!

He lets go of them and steps back towards his room.]

If you must know, Frisk, it's because I was the one who first talked to him when he got here. And kept talking to him, despite everyone's warnings and explicitly seeing the damage he's done.

[His voice is low and angry, though all the anger is directed at himself. He doesn't look at Frisk.]

I forged that connection with him, tended to it and kept it going in some fool-hardy effort to save my own ass and there's nothing anyone can say that would change that.

[He dug his own grave. Now he lies in it.]

So?

[Their brows curve down, their lips ironing out into a firm, uncompromising line. Maybe, maybe they're wrong to insist that he should stop this, all of this, but - how could they be? He didn't want to do it. He didn't mean anything terrible to come of it at all.

He's furious with himself. For opening a door and not closing it after. But who's to say it would have stayed close? Couldn't Bill have forced it back open, any time he liked?]

He's...strong. Stronger than anything else here. He could have done anything, he, he still does anything. You couldn't...you can't...control that.

[Their shoulders hike up to their ears, head ducking.]

He's...Ford said he's, that he's like that.

He's good at making you do what he says. Making you think it's your fault. Making you think that it was your idea.

[Their words slice and Mettaton closes his eyes. He still can't look at them. He wants to believe them so badly, feels the words scratching at his walls and he shudders.]

Ford did mention something along those lines.

[His tone is low and tentative. Again he gets this doubled feeling. Frisk's words resonate deeper than he likes and he doesn't think he has the energy to fight left after the initial outburst. It's taking everything he has to imagine himself still in his own body.]

I'm sorry, darling. I... there's a lot for me to process. I'm not thinking too clearly.

[So much has happened and Frisk is trying to help him bless their little soul. He doesn't deserve this.]

It's okay.

[They're trying to do too much. Too much, too fast, and it spills across the floor. Don't make this another mistake. Don't make this another broken promise, another error to be rectified, another person they've destroyed.

Don't make this another relationship that frays and falters, and falls to pieces.]

I'm...sorry. If you wanna be alone, I can...

[Leave, and make sure not to bother him unless he, unless he really wants them to.]

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