Don't worry about that, you're...Asriel, you're more hurt than I am!!

[Whoever had done these dressings hadn't done them terribly, but Mettaton can't push away that prickle of fear that Asriel might just die here and now. It's a little terrifying, and although his joints protest, he pushes himself to his feet and moves to the kitchen.

At the least, fussing and looking for something to provide to the young boss monster, anything at all...it distracted him from himself. He didn't want to think about himself.]

You shouldn't have come, it could have worsened your injuries--I'm glad, though, to know you're...here. It's just--

[There's a clatter as Mettaton drops something plastic, out of sight, and he breathes an exasperated sigh.]

I'm sorry, all this noise...so unnecessary...just give me a moment..!