Oh, please forgive me…

It was past midnight, not that Alphys could tell. She had made sure that her laboratory- the real one, not the bright pink little façade in front- was devoid of clocks. The incessant ticking ate away at her mind, and looking up at the quickly spinning hands and lapsing red numbers every two seconds just to scold herself about her battered sleep schedule wouldn't have helped a thing. The lights were all turned off, the cybernetic green flickering of electronic journal entries acting as the only source of luminescence.

It only became this way after the Amalgamates fused together. Recounting the event in her head for the thousandth time made her cringe with a mix of humiliation and despair. The thought of incessant phone calls filled her head.

"Where is my wife? You promised she would be home in time for my son's birthday, and yet we haven't heard a word! You swore it, Dr. Alphys!"

"U-um… is this Dr. Alphys? I know I called a couple times already, but th-th-this is Shyren. S-so… so la ti… so can you… can you allow me to talk to my sister yet? Piano lessons start up again this month. Please let me speak to her?"

"This is Lieutenant Rusty of the Royal Guard! Ma'am, I'm giving you an order that you let me see my privates ASAP. You said that they were ready to roll, and we haven't gotten word in two weeks! What has happened?"

Everyone had been so angry at her. They had every right to be. 'Royal' Scientist was this special title bestowed unto her by Asgore with all the bells and whistles attached. And yet, she saw herself as barely worthy of a hint of praise- the only place where she belonged was at the bottom of Waterfall's trash pit. Permanently.

The only thing that had stopped Alphys from doing the unspeakable to herself at this point was Frisk. They had personally gone out of their way to reach her behind a door with a specialized security lock, just to check up on her. Not to mention, they got assaulted by the poor, confused Amalgamates along the way. Frisk didn't care, though- while their expression stayed as stolid as ever, a bright aura emanated from their expression, somehow channeling feelings of sympathy. This poor kid that she had mislead time after time, just to heal her own tattered self-esteem… still trusted her?

She realized that she had to tell the families of these creatures. Frisk knew as well as she did that a life of eating miscellaneous powdered chow and living in this dusty, squalid lab was a meager existence. Whether they were one person or seventeen people in a single body, it didn't revoke the fact that they had feelings and mattered as people.

Frisk was heading off. Off to fight Asgore. And at this rate… off to death. Frisk hadn't seemed at all willing to fight, now less so than ever. They were willing to just hand themselves over. Even now, she clutched a sheet of paper that they left in front of the lab entrance.

'Goodbye! Thanks for everything. I'll see you again sometime.' the message read, both innocent and wise at once. A crudely drawn image of them together graced the page, along with an uneven smiley face wearing equally crude sunglasses. She still couldn't imagine that a living creature, let alone a human being, could have that much heart to them. More heart than she might ever have.

… Now was the moment of truth. Less reflecting, more acting. She had been at it for hours, and yet still continued to persevere, moving a labyrinth of electromagnetic coils, gears and lithium batteries from one side to another. It was almost like surgery, but her scalpel was made of rubber. For good reason, of course.

She jammed a white button on her panel with her claw, and a circuit flow of energy began within her subject.

Please forgive me. If you wake up, please forgive me… I don't want you to hate me, too.

Little blue sparks began from one end to another. The reaction at first looked like it would work, but it slowed to a crawl. She couldn't undo his damned transformation. This silly, battery-eating, unsuited-for-combat form had nearly gotten him killed out there, and she was unable to change him back.

Not like he'd care if he woke up. He'd dust off his industrial steel shoulders and walk right out the door.

Papyrus. Undyne. They cared about her genuinely. They… they thought she was good, no matter what. She trusted her friends. She trusted their opinions about her. Even after the fiasco with Frisk and the Amalgamates, they thought she was still okay. Even after lying.

Undyne, the only monster in this hellhole she could trust with a spear at her throat, thought she was still worth living for. This was the first time she could remember someone deciding to stand up for her and what she did and her interests…

Well, maybe the second.

Speaking of second, second time could be the charm…

A whoosh of energy and light filled the room, but still nothing. Damn it! She had thought that this issue only extended to the battery life! How badly had his Soul been damaged?

Memories flickered back to her.

"Haha! You're quite the intellectual, I see. Even if your tastes in entertainment… conflict somewhat with my own, is it possible that we could form a deal? I'll become your partner and help you… but only if you find a way to create a corporeal form that suits my interests!"

A ghost with only one eye showing from beneath a wisp of stylized 'hair' had stopped inside her lab each day, giving her encouragement when she needed it most. She dared not tell him that the inspiration for his final form was to be inspired by Mew Mew's heroic love interest in the later arcs when the main antagonist was introduced. Th-that was a silly episode, anyway. Trash. It was all trash, now.

"Is… is that going to be me? Ohmigosh, I can already see it! My name up in lights… a five-star entertainment club… It's the future of my dreams!" he had cried, immediately clicking a gel pen to write in a magenta diary. He was getting more solid and able to handle physical objects by the day- he'd surely be able to possess the exoskeleton. Maybe forever this time.

Now, she was praying that he was still in there somewhere. She lied when she had told Frisk that he was replaceable. In reality, her AI programs were still just prototypes with maybe a couple interaction settings.

Mettaton wasn't a machine, he was her friend. Or… well, he had been, at least.

She gave a half-hearted smile.

Can't it be like old times again?

She sent another jolt through the connection wire. No cigar. At this point, she wasn't really expecting it to work. And yet… it had to. Somehow. She went back to fiddling with ports.

Okay, Alphys, think back to college. It's juuust like recalibrating your first laptop. Nothing strange about it.

Worse thoughts filled her head. She and Mettaton were great partners, at first! He picked up steam in Hotland really fast, using discarded human items as props for talk shows. Soon, he started calling fans onto the show as special guests, and it branched out into TV and radio shows of all genres. He didn't just own the media, he was the be-all end-all of the media. Everyone knew his name and everyone loved him. Except, perhaps, his employees.

It had totally taken over.

Looking at the corner of the operating table, under a can of soda she glimpsed the folded edge of a torn poster for one of his shows.

'Thanks for making my dreams come true! ;D'

She held back an ungraceful sniff. That was the high point of her entire life. She had made one ghost happy with himself and given him the biggest career life in the Underground. She had finally done something nice for someone and hadn't messed it up. And then Asgore appointed her.

They grew apart, the fame went to his ego, the job took away any hint of a social life she had left, and there they had left off. They both had this weird bitterness for one another- a friendly rivalry in taste of media had turned into fire and ice. Their personalities couldn't be more opposite.

Yet, at their cores, didn't they want the same thing? Recognition? Admiration? Love?

She couldn't leave their relationship at its final point. With Mettaton totally throwing aside Alphys' (deceitful) advice in favor of the truth, she had been exposed to Frisk. Suddenly, she was the villain of their little act. And leaving off, all she had the guts to tell them was that they had to either kill Asgore or die trying?

What on Earth had she done?

"Reset program- Mettaton. Attempt restoration of configuration files. Reload local data." she said, using vocal command to start backing up the inner workings. Projected on a screen above her was a file inventory.

It's not like either one of them had done the right thing. After he had hit gold in the business department, all he'd ask was stuff regarding the new body. When it was going to be finished. What features it'd have. How comfy it would be to move around in. He was a narcissistic twit and he knew it.

"… Open central configurations." she ordered the machine. As the files appeared, loading in an ever-increasing line, something stood out to her.

SOUL 98% reloaded.

"… Mettaton!"

SOUL 99% reloaded.

"O-oh my god. You're alive…"

SOUL 100% reloaded. Ready to recalibrate.

She jammed down the switch as quickly as she could.

"…?"

He looked around, almost kind of star-struck. He didn't seem to fully understand what had happened.

But, he seemed to understand just a little better when he felt the embrace of someone who used to be his closest friend.

"Th-th-thank you for all the nice things you've ever said to me. I want things… t-to maybe, like, go back to the way that they were before? You know… before they got rough?" asked Alphys, tripping over her own words in desperation. "I-I'm so glad you're okay. And… and I need you! Please, if we can start an urgent broadcast- I need to contact every single monster in the Underground! I can only do so under your network password! We need everyone's help- to help Frisk! I don't know what they're going to do, but we need you." she implored. "And… and I missed you so bad. I-I thought you may have been a goner. Please… please help?"

A metallic hand patted her head in the joshing way she hadn't known for a few years, now.

"So, could we perhaps say that it's… showtime? Frisk's the one who decided that my life is important enough to keep on living. Yours, too! We had better take that to heart and return quite the favor!"

Alphys' eyes shone, as she gave a determined nod.

"Th-that we should!"