Work Text:
Porcelain fingertips left light 'tinks' in the cool, early autumn air as they rapped against the glass of a sleeping darkner's face. They were steady at first, but quickened as they began to lose their patience with the dark, reflective sea they tried to set in motion.
"[Cathode]"
Spamton was sat dangerously close to his old partner's face, kneeling beside the slumbering television with growing frustration. He was draped in one of Tenna's many left over T-shirts from his now defunked Tv World gift shop. Despite being the smallest size he'd kept in stock, the sleeves nearly reached the little darkner's wrists. His vision was slightly compromised, as his dealmakers had been leant to Kris on a promise. A series of static laden grumbles raised from his throat as he clenched a fist, only thinking about sending it hurling into Tenna's face. He huffed, his fist clattering against his hip. Tenna laid unnaturally still on his side. A pang of panic rushed through Spamton's body as he jumped to worse and worse conclusions. He couldn't truly know what kind of damage was done by the Knight, nor what he and the lightners were able to fix. It wasn't long before Spamton began to run his hands along the bezel of Tenna's screen, searching for... Aha! He gently pressed a button just under what would be Tenna's chin, immediately causing that all too familiar click and hum to trigger somewhere in that big head of his. Spamton felt his nerves subside and the feathers on the back of his neck prickle up at the sensation of the static field flaring to life in front of him. He shuffled back a bit on the bed while he watched the snow materialize.
"[Cathode] !"
He repeated the pseudonym more sternly this time and waited again with ever growing impatience, watching as scan lines periodically washed over the unpredictable patterns of black and white. He moved closer again and returned to tapping, fingers enveloped in that invisible fuzz as he did. The act was swiftly followed by Tenna's face flashing into view and Spamton flinching back as if he was expecting him to bite.
"Huh..? What in the—"
Tenna's breath hitched as he was startled upright by the presence of someone else in his room, almost completely forgetting the events of the night prior. Sweet little Kris bringing him something that... vaguely resembled his mailman. The explanations it gave as to what happened that made little to no sense to him. The insistence on letting it stay with him for the time being. He only let himself breath as he realized what sat in front of him.
"Oh, stars, don't do tha—"
"I WANT A [Hot singles in your area!]"
"What?"
"[grilled] ME A [cheese]"
Tenna pinched the bridge of his nose as he let out an exacerbated sigh. Wasn't the incident with the Knight punishment enough? Why did those kids want him to watch over this thing for them? He wasn't too keen on keeping pets, especially when they only served as painful reminders.
"It's the middle of the night, can't this wait until morning?"
Spamton grabbed the sleeve of Tenna's muted red Tv Time-branded pinstripe pajamas and began trying to drag him out of bed with little success.
"I'M HUNGRY NOW! YOU [Money Back Guarenteed]!!"
I almost wish I hadn't.
"Alright! Alright. But no more waking me up for silly favors like this."
Tenna waved his hands in front of him, shooing away this strange creature he felt unlikely to escape any time soon. The tension he felt in his neck, his upper back, and most notably his shoulders refused to let up as he made his way to his conveniently Ralsei-provided kitchen. Tenna had to pay special mind as to not crush the little puppet scurrying alongside him, chattering who knows what to itself. He was a little surprised by how easily it was able to keep pace with his bounding strides. If it really was who it claimed to be, it would've already flung several complaints at him for walking so fast, even though this was a leisurely pace to him. He wouldn't say it's something he necessarily missed from his old partner, but he never passed up the opportunity to tease.
Spamton had almost been leading Tenna to the kitchen with how far ahead of him he ran. He was excited to finally eat some real food, sure, but that hunger was just an excuse to have Tenna awake at this hour with him. There was a dense pit in his stomach about the situation he found himself in, even if he wasn't going to make it known to anyone but himself. It made him unable to sleep. It was almost like he was in the presence of a ghost— someone who shouldn't have made it out of that studio, yet walked beside him all the same. That burning hatred he'd convinced himself to feel for Tenna after all of those years was replaced by an ugly guilt he couldn't shake.
It wasn't your fault! it was fate!
But what if I stayed? I could've done something, anything.
You were just as likely to be taken out! You acted out of self preservation.
What self? How much of me is even left? Who are you even talking to? Leave me alone.
"Move."
Spamton let out pixelated a yelp as he felt something push him to the side, footsteps clattering against the tiles as he desperately kept himself from falling over. Tenna had swept him away from the front of the stove with his foot. He crinkled his nose as he gazed up at the towering darkner. Tenna was too busy buttering bread to pay him much mind. It hurt, thinking about how before all of this, he would be ecstatic to do anything for him, no matter how small. How he'd jump at the opportunity to fetch him water after a take, how he vied for his attention whenever possible. Now it seemed like Tenna wanted nothing to do with him. It'd be better if he just... left again.
Spamton tried to ignore the aching hole in his heart and scampered over to the fridge, digging his fingers into the seal to pry it open. He threw his body weight back once, to no avail. Another attempt, and still no results. One more time, making sure he planted his feet the best he could, and the door swung open, slamming into his face and knocking Spamton to the floor.
"[#$@!]"
The screeching sound of a censor bleep caused the television's antennae to snap upright in attention. He whipped his head around to see the puppet on the ground with his hands wrapped around the base of his nose, eyes squeezed shut. Tenna instinctively let out a grumbling breath.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"I'M JUST TR>Y IN G TO [Help! Oh, God, please, help...]"
Tenna was taken aback by this particular switch in tone from him. The little darkner's vocal tics were always strange and confusing to him, but this one had felt more personal. More... familiar. He took a moment to steady his breath, leaning into the open refrigerator door as he gazed down at the other.
"Well, just... let me handle this, alright? I don't think you can really do much to help here."
He pulled two slices of cheese out from the drawer they were kept in and closed the door before returning back to his workspace at the stove. Thoughts of his little mailman rushed back to him. The way that he used to deny any of the skill he had while on stage, while at the time Tenna saw it as him being humble, ate away at him now. He always talked himself up around the others, but when it was just the two of them... There was always this palpable air of insecurity Tenna had always just brushed off. His usual bombastic attitude would grow shaky and quiet, gripping at Tenna's sleeve in a silent plea for comfort he didn't always recognize. A lump grew in his throat. Did he push him away? Was he the reason—
Tenna felt something clutch at his pant leg. He wasn't surprised to see that little puppet leaning against his ankle, face pointed at the floor. There was a strong temptation to say something, but he swallowed it. The state this darkner had greeted him in was a sad one to say the least. He regretted the way he treated it back at the studio, seeing this corrupted image of someone he once knew so deeply— Someone he once loved— it was another awfully heavy straw on his back at the time.
Tenna reached down and, with all the care he could muster, picked him up by the collar of his shirt. There was a slight objection to this gesture at first, but the puppet steadied himself as he was lifted and gingerly placed on the kitchen counter. The large darkner refused to look at him directly, but it was an improvement from being on the ground. The aroma of hot teflon and butter wafted over him, and the heat of the stove top's flame was comforting in the chill of the night. He sat himself down cross-legged, patiently waiting for this rather tortured midnight snack. He watched as Tenna poked at it with his spatula before finally flipping it over, revealing a pleasantly golden-brown visage.
"How long has it been?"
Spamton's attention snapped up to Tenna's face while he continued to look straight on.
"Since you've last eaten, I mean."
Spamton took a moment before responding. He thought about all of the slimey scraps he'd fished out of garbage bins over the years, all the times he had to resort to hunting down the mice that he shared his alley ways with, the few nights he'd fallen asleep without eating anything at all. There was the last time Swatch had shown him a shred of kindness, leaving him a small container of fresh veggies behind the mansion before he inevitably betrayed their trust. The last real meal he shared with Tenna came to mind, punctuated by that corny little Tv-shaped sundae his partner was so proud of at the time. It was meant to celebrate the cementation of their partnership, but now it was only a faint memory of an era gone by.
"MIGHT AS WELL HAVE BEEN YEARS."
Spamton knitted his brow as he gripped the hem of his shirt. It was an answer Tenna expected. If what he could parse from his explanation from last night meant anything, the timeline in his head lined up. Of course he would've lost everything. Of course he'd be so affected by it. Of course he wouldn't have asked for help. He never did. Studio staff waited on him at every moment. Why would someone who had success brought to him on a silver platter need to reach out? Tenna transferred the hot sandwich to a plate and cut it into four neat little triangles with his spatula before presenting it to Spamton.
"Then I hope it's good enough for you."
Tenna leaned back on the counter catty-corner to the stove as he watched the little darkner, arms crossed. He was conflicted; On the one hand, deep down, he'd wished to see him fall so hard after he'd abandoned him all that time ago, but on the other hand, seeing him like this... it hurt worse than he ever expected it to. And he'd seen him at some rather low points. They'd both seen each other at some very low points. At least he was here with him now, even if there were some things to work on and... get used to.
Spamton picked up one of the neatly crafted slices and inspected it briefly before tossing the entire triangle into his mouth. The only sensation he could register was that it was still warm, but it filled him all the same. However, he paused as he noticed Tenna was staring at him the most intently that he had all night. His eyes darted back and forth, his nerves not taking the sudden attention too kindly.
"WHAT? DID YOU WANT A [25% interest]?"
He waved a piece of his sandwich in Tenna's direction only for him to respond by flashing his palm at Spamton.
"No, no. I made it for you. Just... be quick about finishing up so we can get back to bed."
Spamton's perked up at this. He was being much less cold towards him suddenly. There was an instinct for Spamton to be skeptical of his authenticity, a greater gut reaction for him to clam up tight again as he always did when confronted with the privilege of kindness. But... maybe that was against his better judgement. What reason did he have to run away anymore? He was forgiven by the lightners, taken in as an ally despite the wretchedness he'd showed towards them in that short moment as Neo. He took a deep breath before swiftly clearing his plate, standing up once again, and brushing the crumbs from his shirt. Tenna offered his hand to Spamton, more than willing to carry him back to his room after the night's revelations, and the little darkner accepted it with little hesitation.
The bed, once warm from the bodies inhabiting it, had grown cold in their absence. Distance had been cruel to them, the sudden severance of any communication whatsoever had let already tempered feelings curdle. However, that distance had been closing. Things had changed for the both of them. More humbling times laid in the wake of their prior success. Tenna laid himself under the covers, setting his old partner gently beside him. He could see his mailman in this new form of his more clearly now. The same award winning smile, the same rosey cheeks, the same hard headedness. He yawned. There would be time for this in the morning, along with all of the other new changes happening around him. As he sunk deeper into the sheets, Spamton was sat upright, staring down at his hands. He still didn't quite know what he did wrong for this to have happened to him. He still didn't quite know what he had become. He still didn't quite know what Tenna thought of it all, if he believed he was even telling the truth of the matter. The voice on the phone, his puppet master who deemed it necessary to ruin his life so thoroughly. Part of him wished he could take it all back. Another wondered if it was just another part of that fate he'd observed over and over. This uncertainty felt so uneasy after all this time obsessing over the things he knew were to come. But there was obviously hope underneath it all— a chance, no matter how small, that things would turn out okay. A hard 'click' coaxed his attention away from his thoughts and towards the darkner he shared this moment with. Maybe, whatever he was, it was okay for right now. He shuffled closer to Tenna, his warmth a much needed comfort in that moment, and rested his head against his back as he pulled the covers to his chin. Whatever his fate had in store, maybe this was it. A full tummy, a warm bed, and someone to share it with.