Wired: Metta's Story

THERAPY: A REAL THORN IN MY SIDE!

Mistral

The Lab - November 16, 2012 - ????

She didn't know how in the world anyone was supposed to carry on fighting after all that had happened. Where did people like Frisk and her cousins get their strength? Why was there still a Resistance, without- without her father? It hurt so much, staying in his lab when he wasn't around anymore. Everything reminded her of him, reminded her that he had been there but never would be again.

She moved in a stupor, not truly hearing the sympathetic words anyone said to her, not even caring about the constant pitying looks. A stronger, less lost Mistral might have been annoyed by it. To this new Mistral, none of it mattered.

When she heard of Lightning Bolt attacking the shelter Alphys and Undyne had been keeping going, she was surprised there'd been no casualties. Everyone had been spared the explosion of magic that had burst from her former friend. She was glad everyone was alive, of course, but... how long could it last?

Dad's gone. Mettaton is gone. Felix is gone. And the rest of us can disappear at any time. If I die, it'll be at the hands of my SOUL's other half.

"Hey, Mistral." Mistral jumped as Rose touched her arm, and she actually looked at the clever woman, into those knowing green eyes. "Pass the salt."

"Oh-" Mistral picked up the salt and handed it across the table to Rose. Strangely enough, it was perfectly within reach of both of them. "Here."

"Jeez, you aren't even going to comment on the farce?"

"Should I?" Mistral blinked, feeling slow, like moving through something thick. Like molasses. "What...?"

"I only did that to try to get you to talk to me a little." Rose sighed deeply. "You're worse than I thought, though. I might have to..."

"Well, we are talking now."

"Sort of. This isn't what I had in mind." Rose looked away, seeming to think for a moment. Mistral watched her, vaguely curious about what she meant. Then Rose turned back to Mistral with new vigor in her eyes. "I think you need to talk about it."

Mistral went rigid, not saying anything. Rose was probably right. But where would she even start? What could she say that would portray the depths of her despair? There was nothing. Nothing she could offer Rose that would be good enough.

"Just give it a shot." Rose offered a comforting smile. "I promise it won't make you feel worse. I'm not sure that's possible."

"Okay, fine." Mistral said softly, her throat feeling dry. "I'll try it. But... somewhere more private. Please."

"Of course." Rose nodded sympathetically. "You lead the way, you grew up here after all."

Mistral pushed her unfinished breakfast to the side and left the table, leading Rose out of the room into the hall. She knew where they would have privacy. But... nevermind. It would be fine. She could handle it.

Mettaton's old room in the lab was untouched, left exactly as he'd had it. In the time he'd stayed there, he'd amassed a large collection of keepsakes, gifts from friends and family, and his wall was plastered with kind words from fans of his show. Mistral knew he loved reading them, because they reminded him of how far he'd come from just a ghost boy on a snail farm. Made him feel like his true worth was appreciated.

Rose locked the door as she entered the small room behind Mistral. Nobody would disturb them that way. Rose was wise to think of it, because it made Mistral feel considerably safer. Any secrets would only be heard by a trusted friend.

She sat down on Mettaton's old bed, seeing him there in a fleeting memory. This was the place he'd first met the demon. The bed he'd laid down in and dreamed of stardom. She shook her head to clear the visions away. She needed to be here in the moment, with Rose Eaton, who pulled up a chair and sat down facing Mistral, a comfortable distance away that was still close enough to feel intimate.