Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

It was a quiet weekday morning in the TV Studio Dark World. Blissfully quiet. Tenna had already left for work by the time Spamton woke up. He vaguely recalled the sensation of a feather-light kiss on his temple that stirred him from his sleep for barely a moment. When he did eventually join the world of the waking, he rolled over to Tenna's side of the bed to bury his face in the familiar scent of firewood cologne that the star preferred. It was a shame Tenna had to leave early. Spamton would have wanted nothing more than to keep him in bed and dedicate a lazy morning to cuddles and naps.

But, alas, work called for both of them. The show must go on, as Tenna would gleefully remind him while dramatically pulling the covers off a half-asleep Spamton on the dawn of a Sunday morning.

Spamton lazily went through the morning routine while wearing one of Tenna's shirts as a 'borrowed' overcoat. He was almost tempted to take a day off, but what would the point of that be if Tenna was still working? As tempting as it was to sneak in and be a nuisance backstage, he did have to keep his pestering to a minimum to preserve the surprise element.

Then, after he finally got dressed and made tracks to leave, a photograph hung up on the corridor wall caught his eye. It was of the pair on set of 'Meal Times Made Easy!' after Tenna recorded a baking-centric episode to help Toriel come up with ideas for a bake sale. Tenna stood behind the counter, while Spamton sat on it. Just before Shuttah snapped, Tenna dipped a finger into the cake’s icing and swiped it on Spamton's cheek. The laughter of both was captured for all to see.

Spamton's hand idly rubbed the spot on his cheek where the batter had been. The day had given the crew more ammo in the ‘Spamton isn’t as serious as he plays himself up to be’ argument, but it was worth the tarnished ‘reputation’ to have such a perfect photograph of the couple.

By the time he finally started work in the dressing room, it was over an hour later than usual. There was no panic about being 'on call'. Not now.

Two months ago, Cyber City had a power outage. Spamton made an impulsive, irrational decision and fled to TV Studio in the middle of the night. He had bribed someone to run a late train just for him. Tenna had been surprised to see him knock on the star's door, but Spamton shrugged it off, instead saying how he wanted to come home. The ground disappeared from Spamton's feet as he was lifted into a hug that filled him with more love than he ever thought possible.

In reality, it was a large gamble. His Benefactor, the voice on the phone, had been growing more demanding. More jobs, more requirements, more more more - how far was Spamton willing to go to keep everything he held dear in his life of success? There were cons and scams that he was willing to do on his own, of course, but the Benefactor was definitely doing everything in their power to prevent Spamton from existing outside of this work.

It had worked. The walls had been closing in on him in Cyber City. He cut ties with everyone in his life - only Tenna remained because he was too stubborn to let the Addison's cold words get to him when they called each other. Sleep was elusive. Spamton would hallucinate that his body wasn't his and that he was seeing segmented limbs instead of his hands. Sometimes he didn't eat for full days - partially his own fault, partially an order from the Benefactor as punishment for not working hard enough. The voices in his head were growing louder by the day, until they ultimately drowned out his normal thoughts when he wasn't following their orders. His temper grew ever shorter and only made him more prone to lashing out. If he tried to put his foot down and argue that he needed a break, or try to set boundaries, he would lose control of his limbs and be forced to watch himself equip his Thorn Ring before succumbing to the fog. When he would regain consciousness, the deed was done and the scars on his right ring finger were freshly reopened and bleeding.

Not even his pilgrimages to the robotic angel in the basement could help ease his suffering. His prayers would go unheard and unanswered. He knew he was going to Hell, but he needed one more chance to prove he was capable of good! He used to be an honest Darkner who never relied on crimes and scams behind the scenes of a car enterprise! Give him a reprieve from his suffering, and he will prove he can just be emails, like he always should have been! Forgive him for being unable to resist the temptation of sin in his desperation to prove he was more than what he was created to be! He should have seen how happy he was as an Addison who single-handedly manned the email servers and assisted his brother and friends in their shops!

But then... The power went out. Everything went quiet. The voices remained, but they returned to the familiar background murmurings that he could tune out. Most importantly, each time Spamton stepped into his dressing room in the Studio, the phone never rang in their chime. If a call came through, it was normal business, normal conversation.

The Benefactor didn't phone once. If he did something they didn't approve of, they phoned immediately like they were listening and watching every single moment of his life. That hadn't happened. They had lost him. He had escaped.

The Studio was his safe haven, his sanctuary. This was where he belonged. He was wanted. He didn't feel the pressure to prove he was 'better' than anyone or rise up the ranks. He still had to show off, of course, but there was no expectation to be 'the best'. If he went to socialise, others were happy to see him. He had made friends. He was beginning to enjoy his hobbies again. He could rebuild his appetite, try and remind his body how to have a full night of sleep, and simply heal. He could climb onto Tenna's lap and feel the warm embrace of the Darkner who meant everything to him and the safety of knowing that Tenna's words and feelings were true.

Life had regained its purpose beyond massive profits and breaking records. The curtains had been drawn back. He could see a world beyond numbers and deals.

Yes, he was lounging on the couch in his dressing room, reading through the arrangements for Big Shot Autos agreeing to sponsor some internships. Yes, he was still remotely working on things in Cyber City.

But this was the life he wanted.

This was what he had carved out for himself, by himself. If every day played out similar to yesterday, Spamton would live a very happy life. At last, he could make his own choices in life - including the possibility of figuring out his future with Tenna. With the Benefactor breathing down his neck, he was scared to consider too far beyond the present… But now he wanted to. This time, he wanted to live for himself.

A second screen was pulled up to display his inventory. Most of his go-to items were on the first two pages, but there was one item hidden on the seventh page.

Spamton hesitated, listening to make sure there was no one outside. Then, he reached into the screen to take out a box in the shape of a shoe that could fit in his hand. His thumb eased the lid open so he could examine the contents: a large golden ring with the outline of two stars imprinted on it. It was perfect. Maybe tonight, after work -

A knock on the door.

"Shit!" Spamton hissed as he threw the box back into the inventory and jabbed it closed. "Yeah?"

“Do you have a minute?”

The dressing room door opened and Tenna stepped inside before Spamton could even consider a response. The TV host lowered his head and shrunk down to a smaller size so he could better address the Addison on the couch.

Spamton chuckled. "Morning, Showstopper. How's the rehearsal going?"

“It's fine." That was an unusually blunt response. Spamton tapped the screen closed and pulled himself up to give Tenna his full attention. 

"Are you okay?"

"I've been thinking…" Tenna trailed off, looking aside. When he was ready to continue, the screen turned back to Spamton. "As you know, you have been here for quite some time. I think this arrangement between us is working out rather well, wouldn’t you agree?”

"Well, yeah. It's been great! It’s quieter here than in Cyber City. I can get my work done, not have to worry about competition or peer pressure. Just focus on the high road and the Big Shot life." With the use of his catchphrase, he playfully made finger guns with both hands and aimed them at Tenna with a wink. It didn't make even a hint of a smile appear on Tenna's lips. That wasn’t normal. "But the real highlight is getting to wake up next to you every day. I couldn't ask for anything more than that, you know?"

No answer. 

Spamton patted the empty half of the couch. "C'mon, big guy. Take a seat. You can talk about what's troubling you. I've always got your back. You know that, right?"

Tenna did as suggested, but not beside the Addison. Instead, he turned and crossed the office to sit on Spamton's chair behind his desk. A page that Spamton hadn't noticed Tenna holding was placed on the wooden surface, only to be covered by interlocked hands. The blank screen was set on Spamton. The only expression he could read was the reflection of his own bafflement at how strange Tenna was behaving.

"Ant…?" Spamton slowly rose to his feet. This wasn't right. "What's going on?"

"What are your plans for the future, Mr Spamton?"

"Mister - what? Ant, there's no one here. What happened to the rule of 'dropping formality in private'?"

"I asked you a question." This time, one of Tenna's hands stretched out to gesture to a chair on the opposite side of the desk. Spamton felt so small, but he forced himself to follow the instruction and slump into it. He thought about the question for a moment. It was unnerving that Tenna was asking this so soon after Spamton was reflecting on his future. But where Spamton's vision had hope, Tenna's question had a distant formality to it.

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

He rolled his eyes and sighed in a forced attempt to not focus on that hunch. "I don't know. You know that. I live day-to-day. That's how I've always worked." That wasn't by choice. He had spent too much of his life fearful he was going to lose everything if he got too attached. The cursed ring he was created with would make his body sting with pain if he tried to consider that he deserved any happiness with Tenna. But now, when he had finally felt comfortable looking beyond the 'today' and wondered about all the 'tomorrows' to come, Tenna was treating him like a stranger. 

Tenna's expression remained still. That answer wasn't good enough. Spamton sank into the chair with a heavy sigh.

"Ugh, seriously? Ant, I don't know, really. All I do know is that I want to stay here. Cyber City's great and all, but everything gets into my head if I'm stuck there for too-" One of Tenna's hands turned the page he was covering to face Spamton before pushing it across the desk. "-long…?"

"Everyone who stays here is a member of staff. They are under my employment." Spamton looked down. It wasn't a single page, but a small bundle of pages held in place with a star-shaped paperclip. The text was too small to read at a glance, but the word "contract" was clear at the top. "If you do wish to make the move to stay, then you will need to accept a deal."

"A deal? But… You told me I could stay as long as I wanted, no questions asked."

"Things change."

His heart plummeted. This was a trap. It had to be. The spikes of the Thorn Ring were beginning to dig into his stomach. This was what he got for wanting to be selfish. He snatched the pages and crossed the office to drop onto the couch.

"Mr Spamton. Please return -"

"Cool your screen. I'm not signing anything until I read the terms and conditions. That's a rookie mistake."

A suffocating, unbearable silence set in. Spamton tried to throw glances at Tenna in an attempt to figure out what was going on, but the TV host was stoic. It was unnerving, as though they really were strangers. There wasn't any point trying to get answers that way. When his attention returned to thoroughly reading through the contract, nothing stood out to him at first. There were the usual things covered: job outline, required hours, annual leave, extreme factors that could risk termination of the contract…

Spamton stopped.

"Hey, uh... What do you mean by 'not telling the whole truth' as a reason for firing me in the future?"

"I value honesty. If I ask you a question, I expect the true answer."

"Why would I have any reason to lie to you?"

"You have before."

Guilt dug into him with such intensity that it would have hurt less if Tenna had simply walked over and stabbed Spamton. The Addison hesitated, shrinking into himself. He had to lie. Telling anyone the truth would mean the Benefactor could kill him. Lying meant safety. Lying meant the Benefactor couldn't take everything away. Lying meant Tenna couldn't be hurt since he refused to let Spamton push him away for his own safety. The Benefactor got violent when they were angry…

"If you value your secrets, Mr Spamton, I will respect that, but I will request the contract be returned unsigned and you need to vacate the premises."

Spamton's head snapped back toward the host. "W-what? Hold on. Are you saying that if I don't sign this you're going to kick me out??" 

Tenna didn't answer.

Spamton's heart ached. In all the years Spamton had known him, Tenna had never looked at him like he was a piece of dirt. It was like Spamton was worth nothing. Was that how Tenna really felt?

"If you want to break up with me, Ant, just say so! Stop wasting both of our time if you don't love me anymore! Just spit it out!"

"Stop trying to jump to absurd conclusions -"

"Me???? You're the one who is threatening to toss me out if I don't sign this fucking thing! You want to take everything from me! And for what??" Spamton stormed across the office and slammed the contract down.

"Mind your langu-"

"Fuck you, Tenna." Spamton leaned across the desk as best he could, aggressively pointing at Tenna. "Tell me what this really is about. Do you think I'm seeing someone behind your back? Is that it?? Is me being friends with some of the crew making you possessive or something???"

"Do not speak to your superior in that -"

"You're not my boss. I haven't signed SHIT. And I'm not doing so until YOU tell me the truth!" 

"I am only trying to do what's best for the studio in the long term. I want this place to continue being the success it is. You're the key to that."

The anger subsided, swiftly replaced by dread. "Me…?" He tried to play it off with a nervous laugh. It had to be something innocent. It must be... Please. "W-what are you talking about? You're talking to the guy who still gets 'rerun' and 'retake' mixed up."

"You're the Big Shot. The success of one is shared by all."

Spamton stepped back, eyes wide. No…

"Ant, I… There's a reason for that, but I -" He turned his head toward the phone. "L-look… You need to trust me. It's not worth it."

"'Not worth it’? You are the most successful Addison of the decade in Cyber City. You are worth a fortune by name alone. Are you afraid of being usurped? Replaced? Thrown out onto the street with no care about how badly you crack and splinter on the crash to the cold, hard, earth?"

"No, I'm not. The risks are way higher than the rewards. You need to trust me. I'm trying to protect you, and it's better that you don't know. It's better that they don't know."

"If you loved me, you'd tell me."

The words felt like ice gripping Spamton's heart. This was cruel. Was this a test? But who was testing him: the Benefactor, or Tenna? He deserved to be treated better by this by the one Darkner he'd always loved. 

This should have been an instant dealbreaker. He should have left and returned to Cyber City without another word. But if he went back, it wouldn't be the same. It would be nice to be near his family and friends - assuming he wasn't immediately swallowed up by the voices in his head and he could try to reach out for help - but it would simply be existing if he didn't have Tenna there.

This was what he wanted. He wanted a life with Tenna. Was it worth the price if Tenna never loved him at all?

(Was it a mistake believing the dream of a domestic life together was achievable for bad luck personified?)

"You'll hate me more than you already do..." Spamton didn't know why he was trying to argue. Tenna was worth more to Spamton than the reputation of being a Big Shot. He would go bankrupt for Tenna. He flipped through the contract again.

Not telling the truth would have him lose everything, but there was nothing stating that he would suffer a similar fate for admitting he was a fraud. Even if Tenna hated him afterward, there would be no grounds for dismissal. Spamton had worked here long enough to skip over any potential probation period. He should be safe… And after this, he could try and figure out whether Tenna ever liked him to begin with, or whether he was only ever dating the Addison for the potential of the prestige.

"Fine."

He reached across the desk to lift a pen. His hand glided across the page with a familiar signature, right on the dotted line.

The phone rang.

Chapter Text

Tenna's TV Studio was an entertainment hub. A wide assortment of shows were filmed and broadcast alongside airing Lightner shows. It was a hub of activity and productivity! Work was good, numbers were consistent, staff morale was high!

But…

Last night, the Holiday family had paid a visit. They chose their movie to watch after dinner, and Tenna couldn't help but peek out to see how everyone was doing.

Carol and Dess had grabbed their coats and left early.

That never happened before. Tenna was distraught.

What did he do wrong? He thought he had been doing so well. What mistake did he make to have someone choose not to stay? His fear was starting to come true: he was becoming irrelevant.  If he failed, then he would be thrown out. He would be tossed to the curb and it didn't matter whether he was damaged on impact.

Tenna was made to entertain. His whole existence centered around that! He might be popular with the Darkners, but what did that matter if the Lightners didn't want to watch him? What if Asriel and Kris stopped watching him too? What if they left too? What would be the use for a TV that no one wanted to watch??

The family night wound up, but Tenna’s mood did not lift. If anything, the host had spiraled deeper into despair as he went through the night routine.

If he was thrown out, what would that mean for him? For everyone else that relied on him? He shaped this Dark World into a studio! What would happen if he was gone? So many lives hinged on him being used and staying relevant! If he failed, it was more than himself he was letting down. No other Darkner in this Dark World had as heavy a burden weighing down on their shoulders as Tenna did.

The thoughts plagued him all night. He couldn't sleep. He needed to fix this now, while he still had the chance. There was still time! There must be…

If he was stuck on the channel of depression, he would normally get out of bed and do something else to try and push the negativity far away or reconfigure his thoughts to report on something else. If he could bury it all deep, deep down, then everything would be okay again. He could smile, and laugh, and no one would need to know that things were starting to take a turn for the worst. No one needed to think about how he was ruining everything because he wasn't good enough anymore. No one needed to know that Tenna had noticed how Toriel was growing a little snappier toward Asgore and he wasn't able to stop it and make everyone happy again like they used to be. It was fine! He was fine! He wasn't useless! He'd make them happy again! He'd figure it out!

Tonight, however, he was stuck lying on his back. Spamton was pressed against his side, his head against the host's shoulder and his right arm draped across his stomach. The Addison was fast asleep, clueless to the host’s internal plight.

… Spamton. The Big Shot.

From someone who was content with a simple life to a businessman who chased all the highs life had to offer. If Tenna failed, Spamton would leave. He wouldn't stay with a disappointment like Tenna. He would pack up and disappear when all eyes were off him. Of course he would - who would want to associate with an outdated, worthless, stupid piece of junk like Tenna? Spamton was so handsome, charming, caring, funny… Anyone would want to love him as much as Tenna did.

He wouldn't know himself if he lost the Studio, but who would he be without Spamton? Tenna liked the Darkner he was when he was around his precious snowdrop. There was more light and laughter in the host's heart that helped make the stresses in the Light World more bearable. If Spamton left, Tenna would be little more than a husk consumed by all the negative emotions that were building inside his core. He didn't want that. He didn't want to be trapped with only these big emotions that he couldn't control forever with no escape. He didn’t want to be alone…

The thoughts were forcibly shifted. Spamton had 'figured it out'... How did Spamton do it? What was the 'help' he kept hinting at? What were those secrets that he was so protective over? How did an Addison who claimed he had no instinct to sell become the top seller in the whole of Cyber City? Why did Spamton clam up every time the topic came up? Why did Spamton let Tenna stay in the dressing room for some phone calls, but not others?

Who was on that phone for those phone calls?

Who made Spamton 'big'?

How did he cheat the system?

… Why did Spamton never tell him the truth? Didn't he love Tenna? Tenna never hid anything from him.

This wasn't fair! Tenna needed to know. This was his domain! He was entitled to know anything he asked of his employees! 

His antennae perked up in realisation. Spamton wasn't his employee. But if he signed a contract, then he would have to finally share his secrets and he would have to stay no matter what! Spamton would have to be his!

He carefully maneuvered himself out of Spamton's loose hold and tucked the blanket safely around him. A soft kiss was placed on the Addison's temple.

Spamton smiled in his sleep. He needed Tenna, just as much as Tenna needed Spamton. And once the perfect contract was written and signed, then they would both have the secret to being a Big Shot. Everything would be as it should be forever. Tenna would never need to let these fears consume him ever again. He would always be needed, wanted, and loved.

It wasn't that easy. Of course it wasn't.

Tenna's first mistake was acting too formal, too distant. Spamton was suspicious before the offer could even be made. Even so, the door stayed open. He could continue. He had started this plan to make everything better. He would continue.

The second mistake he made was overestimating his own cunning. Any businessman worth his salt would dissect a contract before signing it. But that was fine. Tenna was also a businessman. He remained steadfast. He could do this.

Spamton's walls had shot up faster than someone could change the channel. Tenna was supposed to be the one Darkner that Spamton could truly be himself around. That's how it always was. This wasn't the way it was supposed to be.

… Should he stop?

No. 

He can't. There was so much to lose if Tenna gave up now.

The third mistake followed shortly after this. Tenna ignored how Spamton grew nervous and fearful the moment Tenna said the phrase 'Big Shot'.

Tenna had read the papers, he had heard the rumours. Apparently, Big Shot Autos was a front for something more illicit and crooked. Spamton was doing something rotten behind the scenes. But Tenna knew this, and he still adored Spamton! Why didn't he understand that nothing would change after this? He would protect Spamton from the consequences of his crimes!

But the final, biggest mistake was trying to use Spamton's love for the star as a reason to tell the truth. Why did he say that?? Why would he resort to such a horrible idea?? That was going too far. Love should never be used as a weapon, and Tenna knew that! He needed to apologise the moment the chance arose. Then everything could go back to normal and they could be happy again. Tenna simply needed to know how to ensure everything would stay exactly as it was. That's all.

Spamton signed the contract with a disdain that made Tenna's shell rattle. He hated Tenna. He really, truly, hated Tenna. 

What had he done…?

The moment the pen was slammed down, the phone rang.

The tone was wrong. It was too deep, too slow. The pauses stretched like a yawn. Just when he thought that the caller had hung up, it rang again. How could a rotary phone sound that different?

From where he sat behind Spamton's desk, he could see the terror that gripped the Addison.

"I… I have to get that."

This couldn't be interrupted! This moment would never happen again! Spamton was going to leave and abandon him after this! He was going to tear the host's heart into pieces and make everyone see how horrible and wicked he really was! It had to happen now!

"It can wait. You have to -"

"N-no!" Spamton staggered back, edging slightly closer to the phone despite the fear etched onto his face like he was made of stone. "You don't understand! [[They]]. Won't. Wait."

Tenna rose to his feet and moved around the desk. This wasn't right. "Who? Spamton, you need to -"

"Shut up! I…" The phone's twisted chime echoed through the dressing room. "Fuck… No… No… Your contract…"

Tenna lunged forward, trying to grab Spamton's hand to stop him. The Addison turned. Even with the clear height advantage, Spamton kept low and shoved Tenna backward. The host crashed onto the couch.

Spamton answered it.

Tenna's vision turned to static.

Tenna was sitting on the same couch, in the same office. Instead of bright, warm lights, it was cold and dark. The room was bone dry, yet there was a heavy dampness in the air. Posters that were once pride of place had been torn, serving only to emphasise the paint peeling off the walls.

Nearly all the furniture had been torn out of the office in a past moment of rage.

The phone was still on the table, the receiver dropped on the floor instead of resting neatly on the table. A heavy layer of dust coated it, making the coal black plastic appear off-white in colour. It remained in the precise spot it had been dropped by Tenna.

A symbol of the choice he made.

A permanent reminder.

A relic of past mistakes.

"Why did I pick up the phone…" That was his voice, but it wasn't him saying it. "That crummy mailman… He should still be here, with me…"

The colour returned to Tenna’s vision. The warmth returned to the room. Spamton was hunched over the phone, both hands gripping the receiver with such force that they trembled.

"No…" It was barely a breath, but it was loud enough for Tenna to hear. He hoisted himself off the couch and cautiously approached.

"Spamton?" 

Spamton took a half-step back. There was noise from the receiver. Spamton's entire form shuddered like he had been zapped. 

"Are you okay?"

Spamton looked up at him, fear in his eyes. None of this felt right.

"I… I have to go. Now." He didn't even try to hang up the phone properly. Spamton dropped it and ran.

The world froze around Tenna.

This was his chance. The call hadn't ended. The caller could be the secret to success, just like he wanted!

But that voice, his voice... It sounded so sad and lonely. Spamton left and never came back.

The need to know the truth had kept Tenna awake all night, but he would never be able to sleep peacefully again if Spamton was gone forever.

Contract or not, Spamton was his. Anyone would know that. He wasn't going to let anyone else take what belonged to him!

And that thought brought with it the clarity that cut through the desperation. He loved Spamton. There shouldn't be a struggle to decide which choice was more important!

"What am I doing…? Spamton, wait!" The phone was ignored as Tenna gave chase.

Chapter Text

Each Dark World existed in its own bubble. A connection could only be formed if two separate Dark Worlds were brought to the same location. What this connection manifested as was unique for each combination: roads, a footpath, or even a river. To Spamton’s frustration, the connection between the TV Studio and Cyber City was through trains. If it had been a road, he would have been long gone! He only had two hours to get back. Every second mattered, and that was before considering whether there even was a train running right now. The Benefactor would not have given him this ultimatum if the station was closed - even they had some sort of understanding for Spamton being physically unable to follow their order.

He had to keep running. He didn’t have time to consider what would happen if he stopped for a moment. 

Back in the Studio, Tenna sped out onto the corridor. Spamton had already disappeared out of sight. He could have run off in any direction! But if the other Tenna’s voice was correct, Spamton left and never came back. That meant he was going to the train station. It was a short journey from the Studio: exit through the front lobby, go down Pageant Boulevard, take a left and then ascend the stairs or ramp. But for Tenna, as he bolted through the lobby, it was like he was on his last chance in a Physical Challenge. Once he burst through the doors, he shot up to his true height to give himself the advantage. Longer strides on the Boulevard helped lessen the impact of Spamton’s head start.

Tenna skidded around the corner and spotted a hint of red in the near distance. “Spamton! Wait!”

Spamton glanced over his shoulder. It was the wrong choice, as it only had him witness the sight of a fifteen-foot tall TV host pouncing him. “Oh shi-!” 

Dust flew into the air as the pair crashed and tumbled to the ground.

"Get-t off! Fuck 0ff! I don't want to be anywhere near [[you]] right now, you [ly-lying, cheating, rotTEn] asshole!" Spamton was like a wild beast in a cage. He snarled, thrashed and tried everything in his power to knock Tenna back and escape the hold. But nothing worked. Spamton was trapped in a tight embrace from behind.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!! I don't know what came over me today." Tenna pulled Spamton closer to himself. "Spamton, please, don't leave. I don't know what's going on, and you don't have to tell me. You never need to tell me! But please, please don't go!"

"You made your fuck1ng choice!” Spamton shouted as he tried to push Tenna’s arms away, “And I made [it’s my faul-] choice! My brother is going to [died] if I don't get to Cyber City in the next tw0 hours, and you'Re going 2 [died] if I [keep to what I know best]!!!"

"What?? Then we need to do something! I can call Queen and ask for help! She could ask the authorities to check in on him!"

"No!! [No! Please! No!] You've [that's plenty] enough damage! I need to [get me out]! If I stay here, Rose dies, and so wi-w1ll you! [O-Our store is closing down!] We'll all [cease and decease!]! I'm [ran out of chances]! Fuck!!! I've [you're a mess] everything. I can't lose lose lo5E-" Spamton was hysterical through his glitches. Tenna quickly adjusted Spamton so he was pressed against the host's chest in a grounding hug. Immediately, the struggling stopped. Spamton's fingers dug into the firm material of Tenna's suit lapels as he held on for dear life. It didn't distract from the tears dripping onto the red material. 

Tenna couldn't remember the last time he had seen the salesman in such distress. When was the last time he had heard Spamton’s vocal intrusions be so intense that it affected every single sentence?

Who was it was made the threat? Where can Tenna find them? When will he get the opportunity to tear this individual from limb to limb? The rage was making Tenna’s magic boil, but he couldn’t say that. Spamton needed grounding and support right now. Tenna would be there for him. He couldn’t make this trip alone.

"I'm going with you. Let me prove that wasn't who I really am. I love you, Snow. Let me help you. I got you into trouble, let me get you out of it. Please. You won't face this alone."

Spamton's energy sapped from him. "W-what?"

"We go together. And then, once we fix everything, let me make up for the hurt I caused you today. You being in my life is more important than anything else." Tenna stood up, but Spamton made no attempt to drop down to the floor, nor did he loosen his grip.

"Then we… We need to hurry." No glitches interrupted Spamton’s response. That was a good start.

The train journey to Cyber City was silent. Despite his earlier attempts to fight and escape from Tenna’s grip, Spamton refused to stray from Tenna. Curled up on the host's lap, Spamton wrapped both arms around one of Tenna's arms. He pressed his forehead against it, as though convincing himself that Tenna really was here. It was a moment of weakness, and Spamton knew it. He should be nowhere near Tenna after what happened in his dressing room with that damn contract! But... He didn't want to be alone right now. He wanted to believe Tenna's apologies. Tenna had never acted so strangely before, but he had always been so supportive through good and bad days. Tenna's presence brought some peace when everything in Spamton's life was falling apart. His brother was going to die, and it was going to be his fault.

Spamton began murmuring a prayer, muffled by Tenna's sleeve. Let those who had no connection to his scams and schemes be protected from this unjust and cruel punishment. They were good Darkners. It was only him who was corrupt. Please forgive him for his sins...

Tenna held Spamton close, rubbing slow circles on Spamton's back with his thumb. This was always the go-to to ease the Addison when he was agitated or stressed. It was a simple, repetitive action that grounded Tenna as much as it did Spamton. It helped ease the TV's fury and permit him to think with clarity about what he did. When Tenna's thoughts spiralled, he let himself fall into a state of depression. 

Not this time. He forced himself to reflect on his actions like he was reviewing one of his performances. What had he been thinking? The Tenna he turned into last night and remained as this morning... That wasn't who he wanted to be. His choices, his mannerisms... It went against everything he believed in. Yes, he wanted to stay relevant! Yes, he wanted to keep Spamton in his life! But why did he approach both of these problems in such a cruel manner? Why was he so selfish that he was willing to put his pride before his own happiness? What trouble did his stupid contract land Spamton in? What sort of horrific Darkner had Spamton under their thumb? Spamton hated being confined by others! What crimes had been committed by the salesman if death threats could be so easily given? 

But, the most important question: why did the Tenna in that vision let Spamton run and deal with all this alone? 

Tenna was an honest Darkner, even if today's actions questioned that! He loved Spamton. That mattered more than his pride! If he was allowed a second chance, he would dedicate the rest of his life to be there for Spamton, and he would always be there, no matter what. 

Gradually Spamton's grip began to loosen as the gentle touches on his back began to work their magic. The slow, even breaths indicated that Tenna had succeeded in making Spamton doze off.

It wouldn't help solve the overall problem, but a small chance to breathe might help in the long-term. Tenna would stay awake. He would watch over the Darkner that meant everything to him.

“We are now approaching: Cyber City Station.”

The announcement startled Spamton awake. He jumped out of Tenna's lap and went for the nearest door, bolting the moment the gap was wide enough for him to slip through. Tenna shrunk down to his normal height in the city and quickly followed. They couldn’t afford to waste a single second.

Twenty minutes left.

Normally, when the pair used to arrive in Cyber City, they would take a taxi to Queen’s Mansion. Spamton ignored them. It was a short journey, but Spamton knew the roads. They had to pass a busy junction. Today would be the day that there was a traffic jam. He couldn’t take the risk.

Instead, they ran. Years of casual late-night walks gave Spamton a very good mental map of the back streets and alleyways. The quieter route that they navigated was a little longer than the direct path of the main streets, but there would be fewer Darkners in the way. They could push themselves to their limits without worrying about collisions.

“Come on, come on…” Spamton glanced down at his watch. “Fuck! Come on!”

Ten minutes left.

Chapter Text

Five minutes remained.

Three Swatchlings screeched in fright as they narrowly missed being run over by a speeding Addison in the Mansion's lobby.

"Sorry! Sorry! Delayed trains when you have a scheduled meeting, you know how it is!" Tenna babbled an apology as he chased after Spamton. They turned a corner, whizzed up some stairs, took a left, counted five doors on the right. Spamton slumped against the door as he fumbled opening the lock to the office beside his suite with shaking hands.

Two minutes left.

"C-come on, fucking - open, you stupid-" The key was taken out of his hands by Tenna, who unlocked it effortlessly. Then, at last, they made it inside.

The office was almost in complete darkness once the door swung shut behind them. Tenna turned to flip on the light switch. Nothing happened. Aside from Tenna's screen, the only other light source came from a window in the living room that the office was connected to. It stretched across the floor, cutting the apartment clean in two until it reached its destination of illuminating the phone. At some point since Tenna had last visited, Spamton had moved it from his desk to a table beside the couch. The salesman always insisted on keeping the rotary phone in the office, and never in the personal space so he could have a proper break from his work. If the phone was right beside somewhere where Spamton could nap… Tenna didn’t want to consider the implications of this.

One minute.

"Tenna. Wait outside."

"No. Whatever is going on, I want to be here for you, like I said I would. You're not going through this alone."

"... Fine." Spamton didn't have the energy to argue. Instead, he staggered to the phone, his legs finally able to burn in pain from the run, and dialled a number. Logic would have had him drop onto the couch to try and recover, but the salesman was too antsy to stay still for even a fraction of a second.

Tenna tilted his head to the side to try and gauge Spamton's reaction.

"Please don't be too late. Please don't be too late…" 

Each ring felt like an eternity. What if Spamton was too late? What if the Benefactor had gotten their claws on Rose? What if the Cyber Boutique was nothing more than corrupted data? What if he had destroyed his brother's life because he didn't obey and -

"Cyber Boutique! This is Rose speaking. How can I help you this afternoon?"

The voice on the other end of the line was upbeat and professional. It was a normal business day. Everything sounded exactly as it should be.

Spamton slapped a hand over his mouth to try and mask the sob that slipped out.

"Um, hello? Are you still-"

The receiver was slammed onto the base as Spamton stepped back. The stubborn tears hit his hand.

Rose was safe. Spamton hadn't said anything, and the Boutique did not have a caller ID screen. There was no way for Rose to know who he was talking to. It wasn't a fake pretense to trick Spamton. It was the standard professionalism from the pink Addison.

Rose was safe. He was never in danger.

Which meant…

Spamton's eyes widened in realisation as he spun around to face Tenna. 

"What's your purpose with me?"

"Pardon?"

"Why did you keep me around for so many years?? What's the reason for me being there? Am I a play-thing? A pet? Or am I to be the replacement target? Do I have any worth or meaning to you??"

"I know I acted poorly today but do you really think that’s all I am?" 

"Please. Please… I need to hear the truth. I need to know. Why did you make me sign a contract today?"

"I was stressed and I was taking it out on you. I made a mistake, I swear to you!" He wanted to approach, to reinforce the truth in his words, but Tenna did not want to risk making matters worse. Spamton was like a cracked sheet of glass - one wrong touch, and everything would shatter. "You've been by my side this whole time because I love you. I love you! As much as I enjoy being able to work together, I would be just as happy having you in my life as my boyfriend, no professional ties between us. When we go home - if you want to come home with me after how horrible I've been today, you can close the door on me if you want - I'm tearing up the contract. You matter more than how badly my work is going, and I will dedicate the rest of my life to proving that to you if you can ever forgive me."

Spamton swallowed a lump in his throat as he approached Tenna, reached up, and tugged the tie. It was a familiar, unspoken cue: 'kneel down for a second'. When he did, Spamton's hands shot up to Tenna's face, slowly tracing the frame, then the screen. Tenna turned it off, allowing Spamton's hand to thoroughly examine the glass-like surface from the top left to the bottom right. The moment the hands rested on the frame again, Tenna clicked the screen back on, mindful to keep it as dim as possible as to not startle Spamton with a sudden burst of light.

"I'm sorry. I just, I-I needed to see… I need to make sure… You're okay. That I-I haven't killed you by being here…"

Tenna had checked his reflection that morning. There were no blemishes of any sort on his head. Spamton must have reached the same conclusion as he kissed the side of Tenna's frame.

But as soon as Spamton did that, he was out of reach faster than what Tenna thought was physically possible. It was like Spamton had teleported. Both hands grabbed fistfuls of his hair as he let out a frustrated shout.

"Spamton? Are you okay?"

"These fucking voices! I can't think with how loudly they're shouting! Shut up!!" Tenna recoiled, thinking he had crossed a line, but Spamton was looking at the phone. The phone that had brought him such fame and success. The phone that caused him so much pain and suffering.

The Addison stormed over and yanked the base with such force that the socket was torn out from the wall. At the same time, Spamton's vision turned static for a split second. When it returned, his hands were smaller and segmented as they struggled to maintain a proper grip on the base of the phone. Glowing, white strings were tied to different parts of his body, attached to something beyond the ever-darker ceiling.

He had no lungs. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. The voices were growing louder. The walls were closing in all around him. Everything was too small, too tight. But he felt so tiny, so overwhelmed by the sheer expanse of the world around him. His head felt so stuffed and heavy, but the inside was hollow. He could barely keep a thought in his mind. It was too full, too empty. Too loud, too quiet.

"N-no, no… [no no no]. Please. Have m-m-mercy on me…"

A touch.

"Stay with me, Snow."

Tenna's voice cut through the overbearing, heavy static. Air poured into the Addison’s lungs as he scrambled to catch his breath. He turned to face Tenna. The host was still on his knees, but he had moved close enough to cautiously place a hand over one of Spamton's.

He looked down. His hands were normal. There were no strings over him. He was safe.

He was safe. But what was real? What was in his head? 

"There we go. You're okay…" Tenna gently squeezed the back of his hand. "Take a slow breath with me." 

Spamton nodded, mimicking Tenna's actions of inhaling, pausing, and exhaling. It didn't magically make everything better, but it did give him an idea.

"Fuck you!!" The shout erupted from Spamton as he turned and threw the phone into the darkness with every ounce of strength in this body. In the distance, the sound of hard plastic snapping and a distorted chime echoed through the office.

Spamton stayed where he was, slumped over and shoulders heaving. Following a few heavy breaths, he began to giggle manically.

"You want to know the truth? The truth of my success? That's why you wanted the contract. You never wanted me to lie again." Slowly, he turned around to face Tenna. His eyes were wide, but the pink pupils had shrunken.

"F-forget about that. You don't need to -"

 "It's the phone." Spamton cut over Tenna. There was a frenzy in his voice. "It helped me. I have a Benefactor who has given me the help to rocket to the top of the charts. But their help isn't free. They're in my head too. They've been there for a long time, a-a long time. If they call, I answer, no matter what I was doing beforehand. If they tell me to jump, I ask 'how high?'. If I refuse, I am punished. And the punishments have been getting worse the more I refuse." Tenna, still on his knees, wrapped his arms around Spamton. The salesman immediately sank into the embrace. "I've refused too many times. I've broken too many rules. They're going to kill me and turn me into their little toy, Tenten. I've seen it. The visions. I'm just a puppet. A toy. A pawn. No freedom. No choice. No me. No more, no more..."

"No one is going to hurt you, Snowdrop, and no one is taking your freedom away. Not while I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere." One hand slowly brushed through Spamton's hair. "I nearly lost you because I put my ratings first today, but that's not my real priority. You are. If I lose you, then I've lost everything of value in my life. I'm staying by your side, I promise. I love you."

"I love you. I'm sorry for dragging you into this." Spamton placed a shaky kiss on Tenna's lips. "I only wanted to keep you safe. I lied to keep you safe. That's all I-"

The phone rang.

The pair froze.

There was no emergency battery in that device.

But it rang.

That familiar, slow, deep chime.

"Nooo, no no no no…"

"Just ignore it, Snowdrop. They'll stop."

"I can't. I-I literally can't. If I don't go, I'm forced to." 

"Forced?"

"If I don't walk over there and answer it, they will make me go over there, one way or another." His right hand shot out and roughly shoved Tenna's shoulder. "Shit! I'm sorry. That wasn't me." Spamton used his left hand to hold his right arm in place. "Fuck… That's the start of it. They take my right arm first. Then I'll start moving. And then…. I-I don't remember what happens after that. But if I can hear the phone, I must answer it, whether I like it or not. That’s the rule. I don't have a choice."

"But I do." Tenna held Spamton closer, letting himself grow larger to better shield the Addison. "You're staying right here. No one is having you. No one is taking you from me."

Spamton buried his face in the crook of Tenna's neck, kissing the casing softly. "No matter what happens, do not let me answer the phone. I don't know what will happen this time, but it - it won’t be good." A shudder ran through Spamton's body, making him wince in pain. "Tenten… I'm sorry for whatever I do or say. It's not me. I never want to hurt you. It's not me, I swear it's not me…"

"I'm sorry I caused all of this, Snowdrop. If I'd known -"

"I never wanted you to kno-ahh!" Another painful jolt ran through his body. When he spoke, it was in a rushed, shaky voice. "Ant. Listen. I don't have much time. Please. Get out of here. It's okay. I forgive you if you want t-to leave. I can hear the phone. I haven't answered. They're going to - going to - g-g-g0innNng-" There was a violent shudder, and Spamton's body slumped against Tenna.

"Snow?"

No answer.

Tenna pulled Spamton back, gently cradling him in both hands to see what happened once he was in view. Spamton's form was completely limp. His head lolled to the side, jaw slack and his eyes open and unfocused.

"S-Snowdrop…?"

Nothing. Only the sound of the phone ringing could be heard.

"No, no… What do I do… I-I can't keep you here. I need to get you away from the phone. Once you're away from it, then that'll bring you back, right? Stay with me just a little longer. Please…" He pulled Spamton toward him again, using one hand to protect Spamton with a secure hold while he rose to his feet. Even with the fear gripping his core, Tenna could still walk. He crossed the office and tried the handle.

It was locked. 

The door had swung shut behind them on their arrival. It was not one that was set to automatically lock. But before he could figure out what happened, the darkness whipped around him to swallow up the door entirely.

"Tenna…?" Spamton croaked, meekly tugging whatever piece of jacket he could reach.

"It's okay, Snowdrop. I'm here. I’m here…"

"The phone…"

"What?"

"The phone. It's ringing. I need to… I want to…"

"N-no, no you don't. We're not answering it, remember?"

"Please. Let me. And I'll… I'll be so good for you. I'll stay with you, Tenna. Just like you want. You'll never need to worry again." Spamton pulled back until he could look at Tenna's screen. There was a smile on his face, but the glazed, empty eyes unnerved Tenna. "I'll be there, right by your side. I'll be your good, loyal partner. I'll always agree with you and do exactly what you say. I'll be exactly who you want me to be. Just let me answer the phone first. And then we can go home."

Tenna swallowed a lump in his throat. This wasn't right. Spamton would never speak like that. He would never give himself up like that. Tenna would never want Spamton to belittle himself in such a way, and Spamton knew that. His face had no hint of real affection on it. It was like he was simply a puppet who was being told what to say.

A puppet.

Wasn't that what Spamton had said earlier?

"We will be going home. I promise." Tenna moved his hands to make sure he had a good grip on Spamton's body. "But you aren't answering the phone. That's not what you want."

Finally, a true expression appeared on Spamton's face - anger.

"No. No. I need to answer it! And I'll." Spamton cut himself off. His head rolled down. Before Tenna could try and determine what happened, Spamton's right hand shot out and grabbed a wire in Tenna's neck.

For an instant, Tenna's body spasmed as he briefly lost control. The shock made his body shrink, allowing Spamton the chance to effortlessly land on the floor. Tenna dropped onto one knee to try and recover. He was briefly immobile. It was an opportunity large enough for Spamton to run across to the phone… But he didn't move. He was frozen mid-step, like an unseen viewer had hit the 'pause' button on the remote. The host's antennae perked up at the realisation.

"That's it, Snowdrop!" He had been bought some time to recover. Now that he was fully operational, Tenna pounced, pulling the body against his chest. He rolled toward the open doorway between the office and the rest of the apartment. If the office door was sealed, then he would use the other exit! Surely the shadows couldn't reach the whole way around!

But as he landed back on his feet, the body's head threw itself up to roughly collide with the underside of Tenna's frame. This time, the Addison's body pushed against Tenna's chest. With the small gap that was created, it slipped out of his hold and landed on the floor.

The body stepped back, lacking all the grace Spamton would normally have. The right arm undid the tie and tossed it aside. It reached toward the bottom of its shirt. Suddenly, the left arm shot across and roughly shoved the right shoulder with an open palm multiple times in quick succession. Each hit knocked the right arm back and prevented it from completing its task, while also interrupting any potential to counter. Despite everything, Spamton was still able to fight back.

Tenna quietly shuffled across the office to put himself between the body and the phone. As much as he wanted to reach out and do something, he was scared of hurting Spamton in the process. All he could was watch the struggle.

The body stumbled to the side, using the momentum to slam its left side against the wall in an attempt to pin the rebelling limb. In a blink, the left hand pressed against the wall and used the momentum to push back. This time, it shot out and pinned the right wrist against the right hip.

But the body let out distorted, glitched cackle. The right arm abruptly shot up to get out of the hold, and then roughly slammed the side of the hand against the left shoulder. The left arm fell limp.

"Spamton!" The shout was pointless. It was no longer Spamton piloting the body, and Tenna had clear proof of that.

With no more interruptions, the right hand lowered once more and tugged the shirt out so the bottom two buttons could be undone. Wrapped tight around Spamton's stomach was a black, material pouch.

"Why do you wear that?"

"What, a shirt? You want me to walk 'round shirtless? Heh, you perv."

Tenna choked on his breath, his screen heating up at the mental image. "N-no! The material pouch thing. Around your stomach?"

Spamton cackled, knowing his joke had paid off. "That's where I keep my cursed item that I was created with. If I keep it on me like this, no one can ever steal it from me. They'll never know that's where I hide it." He reached behind him and unclipped the pouch. Then, he opened the zip and pulled out a ring. 

"Ant, it is my displeasure to introduce you to the Thorn Ring." It was made from a strange, dark green metal that didn't reflect the light. Both the inside and outside had sharp spikes of different sizes. The tips of the spikes on the inside of the ring had been stained red.

Mesmerised, Tenna leaned down and reached out, but Spamton's other hand lightly held his wrist to interrupt the action.

"Please. Don't touch it. I know how to hold it safely, but you will be hurt if you touch any of the spikes. Ant… You don't wanna see this thing on someone's finger, ever. The Thorn Ring messes with your head if you put it on."

"How so?"

"Well, let's just say it makes it easier to control whoever wears-"

"Don't you dare!!" 

In a blink, Tenna had conjured a star and threw it at the body. It hit the right hand, and the ring went flying into the darkness. Tenna's screen dimmed to ensure neither of them could see it.

The body let out a breathy snarl as it turned its focus to Tenna. The form was slouched over, like a puppet on loose strings. It staggered forward and stumbled into a charge. But when Tenna reached forward to snatch it, the body's right hand conjured a large car projectile that knocked him back, allowing the body to clamber over him.

It stretched out, the phone just in reach - and a loud CLAP shook the ground. Suddenly, what should have been a hand on a phone was now a hand against a wall.

"I said NO!" Tenna pulled himself back onto his feet and brushed himself off. In response, the hanging arms led the momentum to turn the body slowly toward Tenna. Behind it, the cut scene slowly shifted to normal.

"Your contract doesn't control my every action, Tenna." Instead of simply lifting it, the body rolled the head up to look at Tenna with that empty expression. "Stop trying to make me do what you want!"

"I'm not doing that. I'm respecting his wishes, not yours. I know you aren't Spamton."

"What are you talking about?" The body shook with a breathless laugh. "If I'm not me, then who am I?"

"I don't know. But you aren't Spamton. You're them, aren't you?"

The body's right shoulder lowered, allowing the head to tilt to that side. "Well now… I suppose a good guess warrants a good reward. You are right: I am the help you wanted to meet this morning." The host's antennae sank with dread as the body began to amble toward him. "I am the only one who can make sure you will never be thrown out. I am the one who can help you get everything you ever wanted: fame, a future of nothing but success and adoration from the Lightners… a perfect little doll of a partner." The body straightened its posture and propped its chin up with the back of the right hand, as though trying to show off its good side. "He is a handsome little thing, is he not? Such pretty, pale pink eyes, a smile that can catch someone by surprise… And a body that would appeal to so many. And he is yours, all yours. That was why you wrote that contract. You never wanted him to leave. You wanted to claim him forever… How wonderful would it be to have such a perfect little partner, ready to dote on you whenever you want, will come the moment you call, and will never dare question anything you say? It sounds like a dream, right? Just let him answer the phone."

Tenna's hands tightened into fists. "No. I want my Spamton. Now. Let him go."

"I am not someone you can order around, little TV! Who said you had a choice in any of this? There is nothing left of him for you to have! Everything that is his, is mine." The phone rattled. Out of the cracks, multiple bright white, curled phone cables shot out and latched onto Spamton's back. The body's face briefly contorted into genuine pain, before it quickly returned to the previous, pretend expression. "You know the rules, little TV. Once a contract is signed, it cannot be reversed." The body lifted into the air, just out of Tenna's reach. "He gave me his soul in exchange for success. I am his deity."

"You're sick!" Tenna's rage engulfed him, shifting him into a larger form. "You're twisted! You can't have him! He is not an item to be OWNED!" He reached out to grab the Addison, but the body drifted out of the way with ease.

"You are all items to be owned, little TV. And he is mine. If you let him finish his job, then you can claim whatever is left of him. I will be generous. Otherwise… Perhaps he would be more agreeable if he were the reason for your screen exploding."

"W-what?"

The body swooped forward like a bird of prey. There was only a split second for Tenna to shield his screen with his arms. He could feel his HP be lowered by a fraction. Being a Ruler meant that his health and defenses were far higher than the average Darkner, even in a different Dark World. Having that sense of security did not guarantee that he would make it out of this alive. He still needed to be careful.

"You disgust me! How dare you hide behind him like a shield!" He lowered his arms, watching how the body swayed in the air in front of him. He needed to cut the cords!

Tenna raised both arms and pointed them toward the ceiling. A dozen star projectiles formed and shot across the office, but each one was intercepted and destroyed by a simple magic bullet. The Benefactor was taunting him.

"You really do think this is just another one of your little games, don't you…?" The body raised its right hand, and Tenna had to pull up a shield to block the barrage of envelope-shaped missiles.

The moment the attack ended, Tenna sprung forward to grab the body. Right as he was about to make contact, it glitched and disappeared. With a split second of an advantage, another round of envelope-shaped bullets were fired at Tenna. He was forced to shrink to dodge them. 

The envelopes were a distraction. A magic car had been formed behind him and rammed into the back of his legs. Tenna immediately lost his footing and fell backward. As he crashed on the ground, he called up a Rimshot to prevent any further sneak attacks. Once more, the loose spikes were destroyed before they could even touch the cords.

Tenna wouldn't attack and cause Spamton any harm. He couldn't grab the body. The cords were impossible to hit. There had to be another way to release Spamton…

Inspiration struck. Grabbing Spamton was the best option, but it needed to be at the moment that was least expected. Otherwise, the body would keep disappearing.

"Snowdrop! I know you can hear me! Please! Stay strong! I know you can beat this!" The use of the nickname made the head twitch, as though gaining recognition.

"Oh! Now you value our relationship?" The body laughed, giving an eerily accurate impression of Spamton, despite the lack of emotion in the voice.

"I always have!" Tenna's arms were immediately shooting up to block as the body swooped forward. A light touch prompted him to cautiously lower his arms. The pale pink eyes that he adored, as cold as they were now, examined his screen.

"And how do you think I valued the relationship?"

It was an easy question to answer. In his mind, he could visualise the dozens of times that Spamton kissed him, or took Tenna's hand into his two smaller ones, or how easily Spamton dozed off while they cuddled. He knew how Spamton liked his coffee, and the variations between making it at home and ordering it in the Studio. Spamton always had a way to make him laugh, no matter how glooby Tenna was.

"You love me."

The body smiled, and Tenna felt something in his core turn cold. The fingers that brushed against the side of his frame sent an unpleasant shiver down his spine.

"Oh, Tenten…" The voice held a familiar softness to it, but it still wasn't right. "You are so desperate, so needy for love and attention… You'll take any offer you can get. It would be so easy for anyone to play the part just to get what they want out of you…"

"No…"

He remembered how nervous the white Addison had been confessing his feelings. It was before he had ever become a Big Shot. Tenna would never forget the way Spamton had almost talked himself out of it. He was so small, so fragile, so precious. Just like a snowdrop…

"You accused me of lying this morning..."

When they woke on a morning that didn't require an early start, Spamton would murmur words of affection in this cute, sleepy voice. Even if he had a Big Shot persona to play, the act was dropped when they were alone. It made Tenna wonder what life might have been like if the chase for fame hadn't consumed Spamton. Would they have been able to live in this little domestic bubble sooner? He never wanted to rush those mornings.

"But you were wrong about what I lied about… I lied every time we kissed."

A kiss on the cheek before they parted ways for work.

A kiss on the wrist when a cup of coffee was passed over.

A kiss on the forehead when one fell asleep on the couch.

A kiss on the back of the shoulder when watching what the other was working on.

A kiss on the lips, paired with a murmur of love before they said 'goodnight'.

"No… No…" Tenna couldn't hold his form. He began to shrink. The body drifted down so could it stay painfully close.

"I never loved you, Tenna," it whispered, "You had the power that I needed to raise myself to new heights. That’s all I wanted you for."

Drooped antennae bolted upright. Wait a minute. No he didn't. Spamton kept refusing Tenna's offer to work on set. The realisation had Tenna snap his fingers to create lightning bolt projectiles to throw at the cords. 

The body blinked out of existence, reappearing just out of reach.

"You wanted the truth! That was in my contract, Tenna! What's wrong? Is it too hard to hear?"

"You're spitting lies at me!"

The body laughed. "Am I? Why don't we talk about truths? Like how no one actually likes you? No one cares about you, Tenna!" The body's right arm reached outward as it goaded overhead. "You're manipulative, egotistical, selfish, and a control freak! Everyone is nice to you because you wrote it into their contracts! They have no choice! Why would anyone like a jackass like you??" Each insult jabbed into Tenna, shrinking him down a little more until he was back to his adjusted Cyber City height. "You will be thrown out with the trash soon, and I look forward to the day. I hate you. I hate you!"

Tenna clung desperately onto how Spamton swore that whatever he would say or do wasn't really him, but everything hurt. Words that Tenna feared were true were being thrown at him in a rapidfire round. It sounded like Spamton, too. Was this how he really felt? 

Tenna felt his legs go from under him, forcing him onto his knees. The emotional heartbreak hurt more than any physical injury would have.

There was silence. Only the low, unnatural chime from the phone broke it.

The phone was still ringing.

It snapped Tenna to reality, like someone had adjusted his screen to produce sharper images. This wasn't Spamton. This was someone pretending to be him! Even if those were Spamton's real thoughts and even if Spamton hated him, Tenna wouldn't let him suffer like this! He should have the choice to break up with Tenna, not be stuck in this… Whatever this was! 

Freedom… That was all his Snowdrop ever wanted. If Tenna kept making mistakes in this moment, he was increasing the risk of Spamton losing that forever.

He had one good opportunity. He needed to use it.

"So… You really do hate me." If the puppet could pretend, then so would Tenna. He let himself shrink a little more and turned off his screen. With his head lowered, he was the perfect picture of a broken Darkner. "Then prove it. Destroy me. Pull out my antennae. Snap my wires. Break my screen." Overhead, he could hear the faint whistling of movement as the cords lowered the body. "Make me unworthy of anyone's attention. Turn me into scrap. Isn't that what you want? I can't see the point in continuing on if you…" He trailed off, perfectly replicating the reaction of a dejected lover.

Tenna couldn't see. The movements were silent. He was putting himself on death's door willingly for the chance to help Spamton. 

There was the hum of magic inches from his head…

Tenna turned his screen on at full brightness and rose to his feet. In the darkness, the sudden change would startle anyone, but Spamton was particularly vulnerable to it. He hated the sudden bright light of Tenna throwing the curtains open in the morning, or when he accidentally turned on his screen at its normal setting in the middle of the night. Of course the body would be stunned by a sudden, large flash of bright light! Not even someone possessing it could control natural reflexes!

Using this moment to his advantage, Tenna reached out and grabbed the body, sharply pulling it backward until every cord snapped out. Then, as before, he held the body close to lessen the twitching.

"Spamton is MINE and he is free to be WHOEVER he wants to be. No one else decides that but HIM. As the Ruler of the Dreemurr Dark World, I promise that you will NEVER touch him AGAIN. He is under MY protection!!"

Tenna didn't wait. Not this time. He ran to the open doorway, skidding around the corner into the apartment. The screen stayed bright to help keep the path ahead clear. He kept running, even with the screeching sounds behind him. The heavy weight of darkness pressed down on his shoulders, but it would not stop him from getting Spamton as far from the phone as possible. Before he could buckle under the pressure, Tenna abruptly shrank and returned to his previous height to give himself an opening. He couldn't afford to make a single mistake, not when Spamton's life was on the line.

He could see the door out of the suite, and a short breath was all he needed to increase his speed and aim with his shoulder. He made a mistake wasting time earlier trying to use the handle, but the shadows wouldn't be able to stop the door if it wasn't there to begin with.

The impact sent the door flying across the corridor to slam against the opposite wall. Tenna bolted out of the suite, followed by many clawed hands that reached after him with each step. The corridor had been fully illuminated when they arrived. But now, it was in complete darkness.

In his arms, the body struggled, but Tenna held it close. The right arm was restrained, while a hand kept the head against his chest. The less damage that Spamton would have to deal with after this, the better.

The echoes of the phone could still be heard. Something wrapped itself around his ankle and tugged him backward. Tenna stumbled, whipping his head around to blind the offender with maximum brightness. He was let go. He kept running, grateful that there was no one else around.

A noise came out from Spamton. It sounded like garbled interference. But he was leaning his head back and tapping it against Tenna's chest to try and get the host's attention.

"Hold on, Snowdrop. We're nearly there."

"But Tenna… The phone… I need to go back, and…. And…" It sounded more like Spamton, but his mind was so confused. "If I don't, then something… Something bad…"

"Something bad will happen if you do answer the phone. That's what you told me, remember?"

"... Did I…?"

Down the stairs.

Across the fully-lit lobby.

Through an arched doorway.

Out into the gardens.

Bench.

Tenna gently placed the body on the bench before he dropped to his knees on the ground. With exerting so much energy in a foreign Dark World, he felt light-headed and weak. The adrenaline rush had faded, but he couldn't rest. Not yet. They weren't completely safe.

"Spamton?" Pulling himself up, he put a hand against Spamton's cheek. In the garden, the phone could not be heard. The body shuddered and tried to grab his neck with the right hand. This time, Tenna gently caught it and lowered it to rest against the bench. With his other hand, he cupped the side of Spamton's head to examine his face. The eyes were half-lidded and unfocused, but there was a slow blink. "Snow? Can you hear me?"

The body shook, and the right arm attempted to wriggle out of Tenna's light grip, to no avail. The strength was finally fading.

"It's me, Tenna. We're outside. Can you feel the wind?" The body's head slowly rolled away from Tenna's hand. The eyes squeezed shut. "Yes, that's it. There's a gentle breeze that gives a light chill. We're out in the gardens. Do you remember when we came out here for a walk and you suggested we should climb into the fountain when I said it didn't look too deep?"

The body's mouth opened, but only garbage sounds tumbled out. 

"Yes, that's right," Tenna chuckled, keeping himself calm despite the fear that this was still a trick. "And we'll have coffee out here tomorrow, you and me. No, scratch that. Hot chocolates from that café you like. We should treat ourselves, right?"

To Tenna's surprise, the head fell toward his hand and rubbed against it. It was slow and gentle, like it was seeking comfort.

"Yes, that's right, Snowdrop… I'm here. I'm right here." His thumb slowly stroked the too-warm skin to offer that support.

A few moments passed. There was a soft groan, and Spamton opened his eyes. There was a familiar light reflected in them.

"Heaven…?"

"No, it's Tenna."

"A-Ant…?" Spamton's face squeezed when he let out a grunt. "I-I can't feel anything… What happened? Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

"We're okay. We're outside… save your strength and stay with me. Stay awake, okay?" Tenna's thumb lightly brushed his cheek. "I'm so sorry, Snow. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have forced you to sign the contract…"

"Hey, it's okay. You didn't know this would happen. But since we're in Cyber City… Think we could go to Color Café later? I've been craving their Ribbon Cable soup. I know you say my recreations at home are fine but I swear I'm missing something. We need to do a research trip to see what I'm doing wrong."

Tenna chuckled, lifting his hand off Spamton's right hand to wipe the tears off his screen that were starting to form. "Yes, yes… We can go. Maybe we can ask Swatch for tips."

"Not a bad idea, big guy." His eyelids were growing heavy, but Spamton forced himself to stay awake. "Hey, Tenna?"

"Yes, Spamton?"

"I love you."

"I love you too. I love you so much…" Tenna leaned down to gently kiss the Addison. When he pulled back, Spamton's head dropped against Tenna's hand like a dead weight.

"... Spamton?"

Chapter Text

Tenna was frozen to the spot, kneeling in front of the bench for several minutes. Part of him held onto the hope that Spamton would stir, and that everything would be okay. It would be like the heart-stopping moment in the movies the Dreemurrs enjoyed watching. He had beaten the evil, just in time! Good prevailed! Everything should be right again!

But Spamton didn't move. Reality wasn’t that simple, and Tenna had to face that.

“I’m so sorry, my precious Snowdrop. I only wanted to protect you from that… Thing.” Tenna wanted to scream, cry, find the origin of this ‘Benefactor’ and tear it from limb to limb, but none of that would help right now. “I thought I was doing the right thing. If I’d known it would still be the wrong choice…” He trailed off, looking down again. 

Spamton was moving, but not in the way that Tenna had been looking for. His chest rose and fell in tiny spurts. He was still breathing. He was alive.

There was still time! He could still help Spamton! He refused to let the story end like this. As a Dark World Ruler, he would break all the rules and defy order to bring Spamton back to him if he had only a glimmer of opportunity.

Tenna jumped to his feet, haphazardly bundling Spamton into his arms to cradle him against the host’s chest. He was from a different Dark World. He needed an expert, and he needed one now to tell him what he needed to do.

At that, Tenna spotted a figure standing at the doorway to the Mansion, partially obscured by shadows. His form tensed, only to immediately relax when the figure stepped out. Even from a distance, Swatch’s expression was impossible to read.

“Ah. Mr Tenna. There you are.” Swatch waited until Tenna was close enough before talking. “I was informed there was some commotion between yourself and Mr Spamton earlier?”

“Swatch, your timing is perfect. We need a doctor. Now. Spamton has had a medical emergency. I brought him outside in the hopes that it would help him feel better, but he has just fallen unconscious.” With how calmly Tenna spoke, one would be convinced that the matter was of little concern, and he was merely taking precautions. It was what Spamton would have wanted. The less attention drawn to any flaws, the better.

“Of course, sir. Am I to request that he be checked in?”

“No thank you. I want to keep him in my suite. However temporary it may be, he is a resident of my Dark World, and I would like to monitor him by myself.” If Spamton was in the hospital, Tenna would never leave the room. It was better for both to be comfortable. “If things take a turn for the worst, then I will look to have him admitted.”

“Very well. I will issue that call immediately. What will I tell them?”

Tenna paused for a fraction of a second. He couldn’t tell the truth! He needed to lie. But what would work…?

“He was electrocuted.” With the power out in the office and a broken phone, it would be an ideal story to weave together once he had time to think!

“Electrocution. I will get to that now.” Swatch bowed and turned to leave.

“Oh, and Swatch?” The head butler turned to Tenna. “Do not let anyone into either his suite or his office. I’m not sure if there’s still a shock risk, but it would be best to leave everything as-is for now.”

“Yes, sir.” 

By the time Spamton was placed on his side of Tenna's bed, it was clear that he would not be waking up any time soon. None of the movement or adjustments prompted even a subconscious reaction from Spamton - a far cry from when Spamton used to curl in closer if Tenna tried to carry him to bed after falling asleep in his dressing room. He looked so peaceful, so calm. He hadn’t looked truly at ease like this since he was simply the mailman with no desire to sell products and no desire to be ‘Big’.

Fame and success had cost him so much, and if he had this corrupt deal looming over his head the whole time…?

Tenna dropped to sit on the foot of the bed. His head fell into his hands and the emotions he had locked away finally cracked through the wall. Tears spilled through the screen. Spamton couldn’t die, not like this. There must be time. How could such a wonderful individual disappear, just like that? Tenna had made a mistake, and Spamton paid the price. That desperate need to be relevant and wanted by the Lightners might have cost him the most important individual in Tenna’s life. Was that really worth it? How could he go on in life without the other half of his heart?

How grateful he was that he heeded the laments of that other him in that vision! If he hadn’t… If he had let that thing control Spamton forever, it would have been a constant reminder of his failures! At least Spamton could rest and recover here. Tenna never had a phone added to the suite.

… 

Because Tenna's phone was in his head.

Panic overruled common sense. Tenna scrambled out of the bedroom and into the living space. A button was pressed to make a call, and he began to pace.

"Hello. This is Lanino."

"It's Tenna."

"Tenna!” The tone of professionalism was immediately dropped. “What happened? You sound like you've been crying. No one has seen you since the morning rehearsal. Are you okay?"

"It's… I…" Tenna didn't know where to start. He couldn't tell the full truth, and it wouldn’t be possible to use that same act like he had with Swatch. Lanino knew him too well. "I'm in Cyber City. It's… It's Spamton. There's been a medical emergency, a-and he's not waking up. I know I'm letting everyone down but I need to stay here. I can't lose him. I don't know what I'd do without him…"

Lanino’s voice was calm and soothing. "Tenna, it’s okay. Focus on Spamton. Elnina and I can keep the show going while you're gone."

"Th-thank you… There's reruns and, and archived episodes. Use them. I… I need to keep my phone off today.” He forced himself to stop talking to take a slow breath to try and ground himself for a minute longer. “I'll check in tomorrow if things have calmed down.”

“I hope things will improve soon.”

“Me too. And…” A memory from the office came to the forefront. “I'm sorry for being so demanding and rude lately. You all mean so much to me and I never want any of you to think I take advantage of your kindness."

“I speak for the Studio when I say that we know you would never do anything like that. Right now, Spamton needs you. Be there for him. But make sure to take care of yourself to help you weather through this unexpected storm. Cyber City isn’t your Dark World. You need to keep within your limits so you can return safely.”

"I'll do my best. Thanks, Lanino…"

Once Tenna hung up, he reached to the back of his head and clicked two buttons. The phone was offline, and would remain that way until Tenna felt it was safe to use it again. It only served to further isolate him in a time when he really needed some support, but it was the better choice for keeping Spamton safe.

A sigh was his only company as he returned to the bedroom to see Spamton’s body seizing up on the bed.

"Snowdrop!" Tenna ran over, quickly pulling Spamton into his arms and holding him close. "It's okay. I'm here. I'm here. I didn't leave…"

Immediately, the struggle stopped. The head fell toward Tenna, but he couldn't tell whether it was an intentional choice or simply the shifting of position knocking it to the side.

"Oh, Spamton… I'm so sorry. This is all my fault. I never knew this was going to happen if I… I didn't know this would happen. Please come back to me… I can't lose you…" He felt himself begin to shrink as he held Spamton close to his chest, tears spilling out again.

Chapter Text

An hour passed.

A knock on the door startled Tenna awake from a heavy, dreamless sleep. He didn’t feel any better emotionally, but at least he had a little more energy to face whatever other messes today wanted to throw at him.

"It's unlocked!" Tenna shouted. He could hear the door open, followed by footsteps. "I'm in the bedroom, on the right." That only gave him a few moments to return to his adjusted height, lay Spamton back on the bed, and make himself look presentable. Once he opened the bedroom door, Swatch was waiting on the other side. They held a heavy-material bag, which was swiftly handed over.

"I have cooling pads that you can put on Mr Spamton if he is overheating. I also brought your preferred Combo Stack Sandwich and a bottle of water. It is important that you eat and drink when you are able to."

"Thank you… But what about calling a doctor?"

"They're on their way." Swatch took a slow breath and straightened their posture. The gifts were merely an excuse to arrive beforehand as part of their job. "Mr Tenna, while investigating the power outage I noticed the door to Spamton's apartment is broken. I need to complete an incident report. Please, tell me what happened."

As expected. Tenna wouldn't tell the truth. Spamton would hate it if that was known by the general public, especially something as terrifying as being possessed. Instead, the last thing he remembered thinking about before falling asleep was the fake story. It was a better alternative to focusing on the truth that lay limp in his arms.

"We returned here unexpectedly he could attend a meeting over the phone in his office. He answered it, but the phone electrocuted him and cut the power… Or maybe the power went out before he answered the phone. I'm not sure which happened first... The lights wouldn’t turn on in the office when we arrived, I know that much. I threw the phone across the room to get it away from him and I think it broke." Tenna stepped back to place the bag on the nearby table. "I'm sorry about the door, that was my fault. The office door locked on the inside, and I panicked in my haste to get him outside. I don't know why ramming the door was the only solution I could think of. I can pay for the damages."

"I will get back to you on that once everything has been processsd. How is Mr Spamton?"

"He still hasn't woken up. I don't know if he's even still alive."

"If an Addison was dead, you'd know it by the way they lose that natural underglow under their static-like skin." A blue Ambyu-lance stepped inside, bumping past Swatch and offering a gloved hand to Tenna. "Dr Geepev, lead practitioner at Cyber City's Technomedical Institution Clinic. I have requested the assistance of my colleague, Professor Norta."

"Good afternoon, Mr Tenna," The pale green Addison bowed. Her curly hair was kept up in a tight bun.

"I shall take my leave," Swatch stepped back. "May we tidy up Mr Spamton's office? I was able to investigate the two locations without harm."

"No thank you. Just find the phone and carefully get rid of it. Make sure no one stays in there longer than they need to today, please." Tenna needed to be sure the risk was removed.

"As you wish." The head butler bowed and swiftly departed. Once the door into the apartment clicked closed, Tenna whipped around to the medical experts. There was no need to hold the sophisticated act. Enough screenings of medical dramas had taught Tenna to be honest with doctors.

"I lied," he blurted, "I'm sorry. I panicked. I didn't want others to know and I didn't know what to do."

"Easy there. Lied about what?" Geepev asked sympathetically.

"Spamton wasn't electrocuted. It was… I don't know what the proper term is, but it was like someone was trying to control him. I saw curled cords being used like puppet strings at one point. It was like a horror movie with ghosts."

"Did Mr Spamton agree to this?" Norta's tone was cautious.

"I'm not sure, but he knew it was going to happen. He was so scared, but so resigned at the same time…"

The two practitioners looked at each other. Geepev spoke first, "I'll run the tests for his vitals to make sure he's still there, you start scanning his coding and internal programming for anything suspicious."

"Yes, Doctor."

"And you -" Geepev turned to Tenna, "- will take a seat to try and get some strength back. You look like you have had a long day."

Tenna was not a medical doctor. His "Doctor Tennaville" role was purely a dramatic act to make the audience smile. His only understanding of what was happening was based purely on medical dramas. All he could do was watch from the nearby table and force himself to eat half the Combo Stack sandwich. He had no appetite, but he needed to keep his strength up. No one else was allowed to care for Spamton. He needed to recover after that battle, and this would help. 

The two medical experts stood at the side of the bed with a digital clipboard and numerous screens. Each of the screens had text rapidly scrolling vertically, like someone had pressed the fast-forward button during the credits. Somehow, Norta was able to monitor them with ease. Meanwhile, Geepev pulled out various items to run tests on the reaction of the body to different events. They noted how only one arm twitched when prodded in a certain area, and how all reactions were subtle.

With four screens running and the physical test completed, the two practitioners approached Tenna.

"While we wait for the results, I want you to give us as clear an account as possible, Mr Tenna." 

Tenna took a slow breath to try and ground himself. "We only got here a few hours ago. He was already really stressed for - um, a number of reasons - and we ran from the train station to here. The office was in darkness. The lights wouldn't turn on. He made a call, and everything seemed fine. He disconnected the phone and threw it across the room. It was one of those plug-in rotary phones that need to be connected to work, and it broke on impact. But it rang anyway, and shortly after that he lost control of his body." The memory brought the guilt back in waves.

"He asked me to not let him answer the phone, but then he started fighting me. But he had said he didn't want to do that, so I stepped in." His hand clenched into a fist at the thought of Spamton being controlled. "Someone else spoke. It wasn't him. I know it wasn't him… But I managed to grab him and run out of the Mansion and he didn't answer the phone. He woke up outside but he said he couldn't feel anything. I think it was below his neck because he reacted when I touched his face… And then h-he blacked out." It was hardly a well-crafted story, but Tenna was too uptight to worry about that. “Is he dead?”

"He responded to our tests to begin with, so he is still alive, just unconscious," Norta tried to give a reassuring smile. "Initial signals from the 'brain' indicate that it is still operational. There is no risk of losing him."

Geepev was taking notes on the clipboard. "You mentioned he lost control and changed behaviour. Was it seamless?"

"No. There were a few times where the body sort of… Fought against itself?"

Norta returned to the bedside and lightly pressed her finger against his neck. "There's no response to normal touch. The body still isn't back under his control. We don't have a lot of time to help him."

"I think we can get a head start, thanks to the actions of Mr Tenna." Geepev turned back to Tenna. "I know you are not a resident of Cyber City, and I will explain what is happening as best as I can. By taking him out of the environment where he was being controlled, you saved his life today."

"I… what?" His antennae curled in confusion. "But look at him. He isn't responding. I shouldn't be praised. That's a bad thing." 

"It is. But… how good is your knowledge on digital products?"

"I know what video games are?"

Geepev smiled. "Excellent. Imagine that Mr Spamton's body is a video game, and his brain is the player using the controller to move the character on the screen." He paused for a moment, only continuing when Tenna nodded. "During the events of today, someone else entered his gaming room and tried to steal his controller. This made the body move strangely. If Mr Spamton tried to take this controller back, it likely created moments where the body was doing contradicting things. Using that video game example again, Mr Spamton was trying to stay on a platform, but the intruder was trying to make the character fall into the lava pit. This would explain the 'fighting' that you saw."

"Yes! He was trying to grab something bad with his right hand, but the left hand tried to stop it. The right hand then hit the left shoulder to stop the movement."

Geepev took note of this. "That is great news that he was still able to fight back despite the odds. Now, this 'crash' I mentioned earlier. To use this video game room analogy again, imagine that you walked into this room and saw the pair fighting over the controller. You can't go over and stop them because you will get hurt, so you walk over to the video game console and unplug the controller. The character is still on the screen, and the game is still playing. The 'crash' that you forced is simply making it that no one can use the controller to move the body. This is a very good thing."

"It doesn't sound it..."

"In this case, a computer program 'crashing' is not the same as receiving an injury. It means that it had to suddenly shut down. To put it simply: whatever external presence was trying to control him failed. And it is thanks to you that this happened."

A loud series of beeps caught the attention of the group. 

"Doctor? We've found it." 

The Ambyu-lance returned to the side of the bed. Tenna was quick to follow. The screen had the name of a program: "puppet_spam.exe".

"What is that?" Tenna asked. "What is a Spamex?"

"You are looking at the player that tried to steal Mr Spamton's controller. 'Puppet underscore Spam' is the name, and 'dot E-X-E' tells us this is an executable file, or something that can run inside Mr Spamton's brain."

"But he doesn't like being controlled! He wouldn't agree to let anyone else to do something like this. There isn't any way he would let this happen!" He reached out to touch the pop-up. Immediately, Spamton's body glitched and shuddered. For a split second, Tenna swore he saw the body disappear and be replaced by a toy puppet.

"Be careful! We don't want to draw attention to it!" Norta scolded, swatting Tenna's hand away to open the file properties. "He likely doesn't know this is in his code, and it doesn't appear to be fully embedded. It would explain why Mr Spamton could resist, and why that strange form didn't hold."

"Professor, can it be stopped here?" Geepev sounded concerned.

"It can, but we don't have long. I should be able to get it out now without asking for my brothers to bring specialised equipment. Waiting for them, or moving Mr Spamton, would run the risk of the program being implemented. Mr Tenna -" she faced the host, "- might we avail of your assistance in the absence of my brothers?"

Tenna nodded. "I will help in any way I can."

"Removing a program like this isn't straight-forward, especially if it is one that can be controlled externally. Now that it is isolated, it is exposed." Calmly, she gestured to the screen. "When I try to remove it, the body will activate and try to resist as a built-in survival instinct. But if we do not act soon, the creator of this program will make it start again, and potentially force it to embed and create something that may not be possible to reverse. To keep everyone safe - especially Mr Spamton himself - he will need to be restrained. This will also prevent any delays that could work against us."

Tenna was alarmed at this suggestion, but he quickly grounded himself. Norta was a professional. She knew what the best solution was. "I can do that." He climbed onto the bed and sat beside Spamton. He reached over, only to hesitate. "But what if me sitting here and holding him gets in the way and makes things worse? I've already caused enough trouble today."

"Don't worry, Mr Tenna. So long as he is facing me, I can work with no interruptions. We will start when you are ready."

Following Geepev's guidance, Tenna sat with his back against the head rest. The host lifted Spamton and positioned him so he was also sitting, his back against Tenna's chest and his head limply resting on the shoulder. Both of Tenna's arms wrapped around Spamton's stomach, pinning the Addison's arms either side of him. 

"Okay. I think that should do it. By keeping hold of his core, it will be difficult to escape, no matter what tricks are pulled." As he spoke, Geepev waved a hand. Tenna's head felt constrained. "I've created a safety barrier to protect your head from the thrashing that will happen. It will still hurt, Mr Tenna, but we will make sure you are okay and that your internal workings are unharmed. Hold firm, and tell us the moment you need to stop for any reason to gather yourself or adjust your hold. Professor, I leave it to you."

"Yes, Doctor." Her hand glowed green as she reached into the screen and grabbed the file.

Immediately, Spamton's body jolted to life, exactly as was predicted. Despite the surge of energy, it was trapped.

"Come on, Snow. Fight it. We're trying to help you." The words gave Tenna himself a sense of reassurance and the drive to keep Spamton close. "You're going to be okay. I'm right here."

Norta's other hand reached forward, pinched the air, and began to pull back toward her body. This action, one that looked like she was carefully unravelling a thread of yarn, was repeated slowly. With each successful round, the body continued struggling.

Standing beside the bed, Geepev monitored the situation. He watched Spamton's movements and advised Norta on whether she should wait or continue. The head rattled and spat out an Addison Buzzword attack, but Geepev swiftly blocked it with one of his own projectiles.

"Snowdrop, I know you can hear me," Tenna whispered against the side of Spamton's head, "You're doing so well. Just hold on a little longer." But Norta had pulled the invasive program out a little further, giving the body a small surge of energy as it tried to fight back. The head lowered and slammed back against the side of Tenna's frame.

The dizziness that had immediately swamped Tenna's mind lifted in an instant.

"Stay with us, Mr Tenna! Are you alright?" Geepev's hands had a green glow around them.

"J-just peachy..." Tenna leaned back and shook his head. "Please, keep going."

With every minute that passed painfully slowly, the file inched further and further from the screen. Tenna could feel the strength in the Addison's body begin to sap, but the desperation increased in exchange. 

The body twitched and shifted, suddenly dropping to half its size. Tenna's arms, that had been around Spamton's stomach, were now around his chest. The head shook, shifting in appearance. 

But Tenna held on. The attempt to escape didn't work, even if the struggling dramatically increased.

"What's going on??"

"Hold steady, Mr Tenna!" Geepev turned to heal the screen that held Spamton's coding. Once more, the body shook as it returned to its normal size and appearance. 

"It's trying to activate the file as an emergency situation. We've been spotted." The green around Norta's hands grew stronger. 

"What does any of that mean??" Tenna snapped.

"The program is trying to turn him into a puppet. Keep him close. If it can't move, then it can't fully change anything." Geepev's attempts to provide reassurance could only go so far to ease the host's mind. "This is the same as before. You're keeping the controller out of someone else's hands."

"Out of their hands," Tenna quietly repeated latching onto the words like the only piece of driftwood out on the open sea. Despite the risk of a second headbutt, Tenna lowered his head to kiss Spamton's temple. "I'm not letting them take you. You are staying just the way you are."

The intrusion had brought with it a second wind. This time, the body began spewing garbage sounds that caused both practitioners to flinch. As the only piece of hardware, Tenna was able to keep his concentration intact long enough to lift his hand away from the limp left arm and cover the body's mouth. He then turned on his screen to play the live broadcast in an attempt to drown out the sounds.

Soon, both medical experts recovered and gratefully resumed their tasks. They had pulled the invasive file far enough out to reach halfway up Norta's forearm. They couldn't lose now!

The struggle persisted, even when the attacks stopped. Tenna could feel his strength draining. If there was a third wind of energy, he worried he wouldn't be able to hold the body back.

It wasn't just him. Everyone in the room was growing tired. This was a battle of endurance. Whoever was the most stubborn would win, and Tenna did not like losing.

The corrupting file continued to attempt to control the body. Compared to before, the attempts were flimsy. It managed to briefly change Spamton's left arm into a mangled, puppet illusion, but Tenna refused to accept that it was real. 

The head bumped against Tenna's shoulder.

"Tenna… This is your only chance to save yourself," the body whispered. "If you let this finish, your fame will wither away and you will die. Is that what you want?"

"If me dying means Spamton can live, then so be it." Tenna kept his voice low to ensure no one else could hear him. He knew what was important to him. If he saved himself and lost Spamton in exchange, he might as well be dead. "Spamton is mine. You cannot have him. I forbid it."

At that, Norta gave one sharp tug and pulled the program out completely.

"Now!"

Geepev put his hands out and summoned a box to trap the file in. Then, a large number of tiny needle projectiles appeared inside the box and stabbed through the program over and over again until the file exploded into tiny pixels that were unable to escape the box.

The moment that happened, Spamton's body fell limp in Tenna's arms. 

"It's alright, Mr Tenna." Geepev spoke before Tenna could open his mouth. "A file extraction is physically exhausting for the patient, especially against something as stubborn as that. He will likely still be out for the rest of the day at the very least while his mind works on reclaiming full control. It is safe to put him back on the bed." Tenna slowly did as instructed while Geepev called up another screen. This was turned to show Tenna. "His vitals are returning to normal. This is good news. The procedure was a success."

"I'm running a second scan to make sure there isn't a failsafe, Doctor."

"Thank you, Professor. Mr Tenna, once he wakes up, which may not be until tomorrow at the earliest, I want you to call the clinic and have him visit as soon as he is physically able to move on his own. He will need some supports for his physical recovery, both from this and from whatever happened in the office. Here. I have a map that will help you find us."

To Tenna's immense relief, he was handed a paper fold-out map. There was a phone number at the bottom, along with the standard opening hours.

"He's clear. There's nothing else being flagged as malicious or unusual." Norta sounded relieved. She stepped away to grab the box and dump it into a pop-up recycling bin.

"So… He's okay?"

"He's okay, Mr Tenna."

"Thank you both. Truly. I don't even know where to start to repay you. How much does this procedure cost?"

"We're funded through the tax collected from wages. You don't need to worry about that. What you do need to worry about is making sure that the two of you rest sufficiently." Geepev's attention turned to the screens. Records were saved and stored away for future reference before each screen was closed. "If anything happens, call me on that number at the bottom. His recovery will be slow and he will need someone there for him."

"And if anyone asks, stick with your electrocution story," Norta removed her green gloves and safely disposed of them in the recycling bin. "A rumour of someone almost being hacked is not something anyone would want to be known for, especially an individual of Mr Spamton's ranking. But if it is something you know you can trust, you can tell them the truth. He isn't in danger now."

"I will. Thank you both!"

A few minutes after they left, there was another knock on the door. This time, Tenna was confident enough to go out and answer it.

"Good evening. I apologise for my intrusion, but I wish to enquire as to how Mr Spamton is."

Tenna couldn't mask his relief. "He's going to be okay. He'll need some time off work, but it should be a full recovery."

The butler, to Tenna's surprise, smiled. "That is a relief to hear. I will make sure that any clients who wish to speak with him are informed that he is on sick leave until further notice."

"Thank you, Swatch, truly."

With the stress of the day finally easing, Tenna was drained. He changed both himself and Spamton into clean pyjamas and completed his nightly routine before he climbed into bed.

At first, he stayed on his own side, keeping a distance between them. But after a few moments, he rolled over and gently tugged Spamton toward him. If Spamton stirred overnight, Tenna wanted him to know he was safe. Not only that, he could hear Spamton's soft breathing when they were this close. With all the upheaval and stresses, that familiar, soft rhythm brought a sense of comfort.

His body quickly gave way to sleep, but not before Tenna kissed Spamton on the top of the head.

Chapter Text

It was late morning by the time Tenna stirred. As he always did when he didn't have to get up for work, he shuffled himself down to leave kisses in Spamton's hair. It was a bad habit. It usually woke Spamton, who would try and block Tenna's screen with a pillow so he could go back to sleep without the onslaught of affection.

This time, there was no reaction. He was still unconscious. Tenna reluctantly pulled himself away and set Spamton back down on the bed. As tempted as he was to stay in bed and go back to sleep, Tenna needed to keep up and moving. With his own energy levels gradually recovering, he had to make sure he avoided any risk of petrification by keeping himself busy and useful.

Unlike yesterday, he kept the Addison under the covers, making sure he was comfortable and tucked in. Before he stepped out of the room, he kissed Spamton on the forehead and murmured "Good morning" against the skin.

In the living room, he reactivated his phone to call the clinic.

"You're through to Dr Geepev, lead practitioner at Cyber City's Technomedical Institution Clinic."

"Good morning, it's Ant Tenna. Um, Spamton is still not awake, but I wanted to ask how I'll know if anything goes wrong."

"Good morning, Mr Tenna. At this point, it's just a waiting game. Is his breathing stable?"

"Yes. It's just like he's asleep."

"And has anything unusual happened? Involuntary movements, alterations to the appearance, etcetera?"

"Not that I've seen."

"Wonderful news! It's hard to say how long he will be out for. He may not wake today, but that is okay so long as he is still breathing and does not show any signs of discomfort." Tenna could hear the sound of typing in the background. Perhaps Geepev was taking notes of this phone call. "If he is still out by tomorrow night, we will have him checked in so we can monitor him, but I see that as a worst case scenario. I imagine he will wake up on his own when he is ready. He needs time to re-establish that connection between mind and body."

"So I don't need to worry about keeping him hydrated?"

"Think of this like being put on standby. He will need food and drink when he wakes, but his body is only using the smallest amount of energy now. One thing I would recommend is making sure that there haven't been any physical changes to his appearance overnight. We did get the file out, but there is a minute possibility that one strand of coding was left behind that could flare up."

"And if it does?"

"We can deal with it if he is brought here as soon as it is noticed."

"Okay. Thank you, Doctor. And sorry for asking silly questions."

"There is no such thing as a silly question, in my experience. Have a good day."

Geepev’s call only served to plant a new worry in Tenna’s mind. He returned to the bedroom and carefully examined Spamton’s body to make sure that none of the changes that he had seen yesterday had returned, or had never been removed during the file extraction.

Two thorough checks were completed because he could put the troubled thoughts aside and return to the living space. He had to do something to stop himself feeling so stressed. His antennae kept wrapping around each other, and the last thing he needed was for them to knot when no one could help him untangle them!

To get himself back on track, he called Lanino. Curiously, there was no answer. Fortunately, when he rang Elnina, she picked up.

"Hello, Elnina here! TV Studio's favourite raincloud!"

"Good morning-"

"Tenna!! How is Spamton? Lanino told me what happened and we've all been worried sick about him!"

"He's…" There was a shaky breath, but Tenna was able to push it aside. "He's going to be okay. I had a doctor come by to check him, and… He'll wake up after more rest."

"I'm so glad to hear that! And what about you? Have you been taking care of yourself?” Tenna could imagine her saying that while wagging her pointing stick at him, which brought a smile to his screen.

“I’ve been trying. I ate yesterday, I slept last night. Knowing Spamton is going to be okay makes me feel okay… Does that make sense?"

"It does... I'm sorry you have to be there on your own."

"I don't mind. I'm glad to be here. I… I don't want to think about what would have happened if he returned here alone." No. He really didn't want to think about that right now. That was the opposite objective for his call. "Now that the danger has passed, I'm keeping my direct line on. I think I’ll be better company today.” Judging by the sound of Elnina huffing on the other end of the line, Tenna’s attempt to lighten the mood fell flat. “We can have a team meeting this afternoon to decide how to progress things while I am gone. I imagine we will need to stay here a few more days when he wakes up."

"That's no problem. Lanino and I can keep things running. We have a movie scheduled to start at three."

"Three…" He lifted the map and looked around for something to write with. A pen was lifted from a pencil case on the coffee table. "Great. I'll talk to you then."

"Please take care of yourself today, Tenna."

"I will. Don't worry." 

“And if you need someone to talk to, at any point, please call us, okay?”

“Okay.”

At some point early in the morning, before Tenna woke up, one of the members of staff had left breakfast and a newspaper on the kitchen table. Swatch must have correctly predicted that Tenna would not want to leave the apartment, and that there wasn't anything he could cook to tide him over.

The breakfast was a Fried Drive meal - an assortment of different foods that were fried - and some slides of bread. Tenna noted how it was something that could be eaten hot or cold, meaning that he could keep some for later. He ate a small portion, and put the rest in the fridge for later. 

On his way back to the bedroom after tidying up the kitchen, he glanced at the forgotten newspaper. This was taken back into the bedroom, where he sat on the bed beside Spamton and spread the paper out in front of him. It would be a good way to pass the time. He could read the articles out loud for Spamton to hear.

"Huh. Apparently there was a concert last night. That's a shame. It would have been nice to open a window and hear the music. We should try and go to a concert here. As much as I enjoy what the Shadowguys do, I think it would be fun to listen to a different genre for a night."

On the bottom of the front page, his wires twisted as a headline popped out at him:

"Rumour: #1 Rated Salesman in critical condition. Full story: Page 6."

"Oh no." Tenna frantically flipped through the paper to find the article in question. Once he found it, he began to read it in a mutter. "Our eye in the Mansion caught wind of a strange story. Staff were talking about Spamton G. Spamton being in a critical condition after a currently unknown incident yesterday - why were the staff talking about this in public? Bah, I should have told Swatch to keep quiet about this..." But he had told Swatch a fabricated version of events. If he was lucky, that would be the story that would spread. That was what Norta had recommended yesterday. If that's the story the press would obsess over, then maybe that wasn't the worst thing.

He continued reading aloud: "How the face of Big Shot Autos, who had disappeared to the TV World Studio, snuck back into Cyber City without anyone seeing him is a mystery we'll figure out later. Doctors were seen entering and exiting the Mansion yesterday, but both declined interviews when approached. Stay tuned for an update tomorrow as the story develops." Tenna slumped back, heaving a sigh. 

"This certainly doesn't help matters. I suppose there’s a small victory in the fact that there’s no mention of me being there. But if this is in the newspaper…" He glanced at Spamton. Guilt had taken a hold of him, but he forced himself to shake it off. "I need to tell your brother the truth. I’m sorry, Spamton. I know you said you can’t speak to him again but… He’s your brother, and you two were as thick as thieves when I first met you. Even if I don’t know what happened to sever that tie, Rose deserves to know what happened to you.”

"Cyber Boutique! This is Rose speaking. How can I help you this morning?"

Tenna paused, mentally apologising to Spamton again for going behind his back. "Hi Rose. This is Tenna."

"Tenna?" The phone did little to mask the ice in the Addison's voice. "What do you want?"

“I know I shouldn’t be calling you like this, but I do so with good intentions. I want you to hear about it from me instead of the rumour mill -”

“Spit it out. If you keep stalling, I’m hanging up.”

Oh dear. Tenna quickly steeled himself. “It’s about Spamton. There was an incident yesterday.”

“Let me guess: he finally got arrested for being a manipulative, selfish piece of shit?”

“N-no… There was... Rose, he almost died yesterday.”

“He… What?” The iced bitterness in his voice had thawed immediately; replaced with the warmth and care that matched how Spamton used to talk about his brother in the early days. “What happened?”

"He had a medical emergency yesterday. But he's okay! He's going to be okay. The doctor said he might be out of commission for a little longer, but he will wake up. It was..." The host paused to take a short breath. He needed to keep going now that he started. "I don't know the Cyber City terminology, so forgive me for anything I might say wrong. Someone possessed him and was controlling him like a puppet. I was able to get him out before anything bad happened, and the doctors performed a - I think they called it a 'file extraction'."

"Shit... Something was in his coding? Do they have any idea how long it was there for?"

"I don't know, but they said something about it not being fully 'embedded'."

There was an audible sigh of relief on the other end of the line. "Am I allowed to see him?"

"I'm not going to stop you from seeing your brother, Rose. That's why I wanted you to hear this from me, rather than from gossip. But... Because of that, don't come to the Mansion just yet. I'm worried there might be reporters snooping around, and I don't want you getting caught up in that."

"Thank you. I didn't even think of that... I'll wait until the evening, if that's okay?"

"I'll be here all day, so call me any time after four. Do you have the number for my direct line?"

"Yeah, I think I saw..." Tenna could hear faint rustling in the background. A drawer was opened, then closed. Something was shuffled. "I think I saw it in our card holder. Snow gave me one of your business cards. It's black, with everything written in gold, right?"

"Correct! It's the formal direct line. I was told I had to forgo my usual flair for the design. If you need me, call that number. But if anything happens before that, I will let you know." Tenna looked down at the newspaper, remembering the second reason for the call. “I don’t know how popular newspapers and tabloids are here, but I’m worried there’s a chance Darkners might ask you for information. If anyone does, tell them that Snow was electrocuted when he picked up the phone. I didn't want to tell Swatch the truth, and it was lucky I had the idea to lie. That version of the story made it to the paper."

"Electrocuted by the phone, got it…” Rose trailed off, as though something was on his mind. Tenna decided it was smarter to wait and give the cobbler time to decide what to say, and whether that was the right thing to do. “I’m sorry about being snappy earlier. Everything with Snow has been so stressful and complicated lately. But I’m glad you’re there with him. Ever since you two met, you meant the world to Snow. Thank you for proving that him putting his faith in you was the right choice.”

Chapter Text

As the clock ticked over from 'morning' to 'afternoon', Tenna's perception of time shifted. Every minute felt like an hour, each hour felt like a day. His attempts to keep busy with phone calls fizzled out once his list of contacts ran out.  

Tenna liked keeping busy. That was how he went through the day ever since he was unboxed. Any time he visited Cyber City, the suite in the Queen's Mansion was only a place to rest and recharge. He would be filming, performing, participating in meetings, catching up with Queen, spending time with Spamton… Any hint of personality the suite gained over time was purely by accident: gifts from patrons, items left behind, impulsive purchases when shopping. It wasn't a home, not really.

It was Spamton that helped Tenna enjoy the highlights of Cyber City. They would waste time Darkner-Watching in Color Café, or they would sneak to the funfair to compete at the stall games. Some evenings were dedicated to window-shopping in the East and West Shopping Districts, while others were attempts to find quiet spots in the little parks dotted around the city where they could take a break in an outdoor setting. 

The city wasn't the same without Spamton beside him, but the idea of a journalist snooping around the Mansion brought a sense of dread. Was there any point giving someone free potential to spin more rumours and speculation? Going as far as the balcony even felt risky - not that anyone would see him.

Tenna pulled himself off the couch. He needed to keep busy. If he stayed in this one spot, he would be risking reruns of negative thoughts!

The first stop was back to the bedroom. Spamton hadn't moved, and he was still asleep, but his face looked flushed.

"I'm sorry, Snowdrop. Perhaps I should have been more considerate in my plan to try and keep you comfortable today. You look like you're too warm," he murmured to himself as he scanned the room. "Swatch said he put them in the bag... Ah, here we are." A cooling pad was pulled out of the bag. This was carefully placed on Spamton's forehead once some loose stands of hair were gently brushed aside. "If you were awake right now, you would be red with rage. You never liked anyone knowing you were feeling even a little off-beat. You would nearly talk yourself hoarse to prove you didn't have a sore throat." 

Tenna lifted one of his hands and moved the thumb down and up like the hand was able to talk as he sat at the foot of the bed. "I'm Mister Big Shot! I'm always the best at everything! I never get sick!" He laughed at his terrible impression of his boyfriend. "Two doctors saw you sick! And now there's a rumour running around that you were electrocuted! You are going to hate it! Or maybe you'll use it for a publicity stunt." He spread his hands out, briefly forming the words in a bright sign as he spoke them: "Spamton G. Spamton: The Shocking Turn of Events This Week!”

It was such a ridiculous thought to latch onto, but it helped lighten the mood as he rose to his feet and threw the doors of the wardrobe open.

For the next hour, he took everything out, placed the clothes on the bed and fully re-organised the contents of the wardrobe. It was almost a 50-50 split between Tenna's outfits and Spamton's outfits - which was a ridiculous concept considering how Spamton lived in the Mansion by the time they had reached the stage of leaving clothes in the other's home. The salesman had a fondness for dressing well thanks to his experience working in his brother's fashion store. Tenna was also a strong enabler for Spamton's impulsive purchases. He couldn't help it! Spamton looked good in everything he ever tried on.

While he worked, he talked in-depth about upcoming project ideas for the Studio, as he would do while preparing in his dressing room. Spamton would lie on the couch, saying nothing but keeping his full attention on the host. Similarly, there were days where Tenna would be getting ready with Spamton sitting with his back against the dresser's mirror. The Addison would be animated as he talked Tenna through the entire events of his phone meeting with his Big Shot Autos assistant. 

"I'll get out of your hair, sweetheart," Tenna leaned down to kiss Spamton on the cheek at half-past two. "I'm going to have some lunch, and then I have an afternoon meeting. I'll fill you in later."

He had given himself just enough time to force himself to eat by taking a small portion of the breakfast. His appetite still wasn't back, but he knew he needed to keep the energy levels up.

Just before the clock turned three, he phoned Elnina. He was put on loudspeaker, which allowed him to have an informative and thorough meeting with his team about the scheduling for the next four days. By then, he would hope that Spamton would be awake and they would receive the ‘all-clear’ from the doctors to return home… If that was what Spamton even wanted. In return, he was informed about various events that happened and questions that his insight was needed on. Things were still running well despite the abrupt departure of the main host, and it was a good chance to let other members of the team step up and try taking on new roles.

By half past four, he concluded the meeting, which had descended into casual chatter. Elnina and Lanino made sure that the topic of Spamton didn't come up, and he felt better hearing what was happening back home. There were plans underway to have an unofficial music festival, inspired by talks of the school have a little festival of some sort. It was good motivation to keep going to get back to TV World once everything settled down.

But when he stood up, he felt his energy was low. He needed to go rest, but it was too early to sleep. Lying on the bed while working on something else was a suitable compromise. He could finish reading the newspaper, and maybe work through the puzzles and brainteasers. But if he was going to do that, then he would need something sturdy to lean on, and a pen to use. He had returned the one he found back to the pencil case, but... Tenna didn’t have a pencil case. Instead, it was a generic, white canvas cylindrical case with the Big Shot logo scribbled on it in marker that Tenna lifted. Only Spamton would think to do something like that. The pen being at the top was pure coincidence, as the majority of the contents inside were colouring pencils. 

Tenna scanned the table a second time. If there were colours, then that meant that one of Spamton’s colouring books would be there too. This was located under an advertisement for the funfair.

Art was one of Spamton’s favourite ways to escape from the world. Even when he was at his worst, colouring was one of the only things he would let himself do to unwind.

Tenna hugged the book and the pencil case close to his chest in a poor attempt to stop the emotions welling up to the surface again. His poor Snowdrop. None of this should have ever happened. He never should have felt pressured to be a Big Shot…

In the bedroom, his plan to do the newspaper’s puzzles while resting was forgotten as he instead opened the colouring book. The first page had a date scribbled on it, presumably the day Spamton received it, and a small, silly self-portrait, presumably in case someone else pretended to be the ‘rightful owner’. That thought made him smile and look down at Spamton. Upon a brief reflection, he flipped the cooling pad to help it work efficiently.

Spamton never had a preference, opting to buy whatever his artist friend recommended from his gallery. This book was floral themed. Each page burst with colour and radiance, but Tenna knew the choices of colours were wrong. That never mattered to Spamton. He preferred using the pictures as a chance to study colour rather than creating accurate designs. Some pages explored how different shades looked when used together, others had restricted choices, while two used just one colour in as many ways as possible to create different shades and tones. It was honestly fascinating to flip through.

But it wasn't just the front of the pages, the back had items of interest on them too. There were doodles signed by both himself and some of his friends, notes hastily scribbled during a call or to remind himself of something, a doodle of Tenna with some hearts around it, presumably drawn when the pair were talking on the phone. Another page had attempts to test his knowledge of cars. 

Big Shot Autos… An Addison focused their life's work on something they were passionate about. That was what Spamton had once told Tenna. The host knew that this love was for the email server, with how Spamton's face used to light up when the workings of it came up in conversation. That same passion wasn't there when the topic of cars came up. He enjoyed the challenge, but the love wasn't there in the same way. Even so, Spamton forced himself to continue on.

"I have to prove myself, Ant. There's no compromise on that," Spamton's voice was adamant on this. They were speaking over the phone, but Tenna could easily imagine the way Spamton’s face scrunched up with a scowl.

"You don't need to prove anything to anyone. You are already successful."

"No, I'm not! I'm an Addison. We're made to advertise and sell things. I don't sell anything! Emails are free-to-use! I'm already a freak because I'm pure white. I can't have more reasons for others to look down on me! I need to boost my ratings."

Tenna slowly rubbed the side of his frame. This was a topic he never understood, despite the time and effort he took to try and learn about the rules and norms of Addisons. "That's not something you should be focusing on. You should be doing what makes you happy. You're worth more than -"

"Stop that, please. I'm not worth anything, not really.” Tenna’s heart broke at how dejected Spamton sounded. “I'm a failure in the eyes of other Addisons. I can’t spend the rest of my life leeching off others. I need to show that I’m just as good as everyone else - no, better!”

“But, Snowdrop, there are others who -”

“Sure, Rose and my friends don't care, but you don't see the way Addisons glare at me when you aren't there. Some of them still call me a mannequin! I'm going to find my worth. I'm going to be a Big Shot. I'm going to prove them wrong!"

There was a pause. When Spamton spoke again, it was softer.

"I have to…"

"You really did put a lot of work into chasing this dream of yours, huh…" Not that Tenna knew much beyond their phone calls. He was swamped with work at the time which prevented him from travelling to Cyber City as frequently as he wanted to, and their relationship wasn't as established at the time. It was harder for the pair to find the chance to spend time together back then.

Then, somehow, Spamton succeeded. He released his brand, and he shot up to the highest ranks almost overnight. He was launched into the spotlight and broke all sorts of records. Tenna had thought it a marvel that he had managed all of this with a little help.

In hindsight, that must have been when Benefactor began calling him. It took advantage of someone desperate to prove his worth. What a rotten tactic! Would Tenna have been able to stop that nightmare from sinking its claws into Spamton if he had been able to visit more? 

'puppet_spam.exe'... What would have happened if…

No. 

He couldn't start thinking about that. He couldn't afford to be angry at how he didn't help stop all of this from happening. He needed to distract himself.

The page was flipped to reveal an uncoloured page of flowers. He set to work.

In time, Tenna's screen turned on to play an old cartoon that he remembered Kris and Asriel enjoying. Having the sounds in his head drowned out the negativity, allowing him to focus on colouring each petal as precisely and neatly as possible. He wanted Spamton to find this later and be surprised that it was such a nice piece of art. 

Then again, the surprise wouldn't compare to the time he caught Spamton colouring one of the discarded set designs in bright greens and oranges during a team meeting. Afterward, Spamton had attempted to hide his embarrassment by insisting that he was absolutely finalising the design for the International-Sports-Head-Dressing-Dance-Competition (whatever that meant), and he was absolutely not colouring because he was bored during the meeting. The argument had been so silly that Tenna couldn't keep a straight face. It was only made worse by Spamton grinning and adding to the story, which in turn had steam coming out of Tenna's vents as he erupted in laughter.

Tenna put down the green pencil he was holding. What would he do if he never heard that mischievous voice again? How could he face the day if he was never allowed to see that bright smile and sparkling eyes? 

His vision began to blur with static and tears. Blinks didn't make the vision clear, forcing him to furiously rub the screen with his sleeve. How long would he be able to keep going, waiting in this endless moment in the hopes that Spamton would wake up?

Chapter Text

Slowly, the picture of the flower arrangement came to life. Tenna was not a great artist by any means, but he was good at staying inside the lines and keeping his work neat. The book was put down so he could stretch his joints. Colouring was certainly helping keep things calm, which only meant that the sound of his headset ringing startled him. Spamton's body tensed, only to immediately relax when Tenna answered.

"Good day! You're through to Mr Ant Tenna!" His hand reached across to rub the back of Spamton's right hand as he pulled on the mask of professionalism. 

"Hey, it's Rose. I wanted to, uh… How is Snow?"

"He hasn't woken up yet, but his breathing is still steady. It looks like he's sleeping. The only thing he reacted to was my phone ringing a few moments ago, which isn't… Great."

Rose hummed. "Try rubbing the back of your hand against his cheek."

The suggestion was a strange one, but Tenna lifted his hand and slowly completed the task. "He smiled… How did…?"

On the other end of the line, there was a relieved laugh. "When he was younger, he used to nap a lot during downtime. If he fell asleep against me on the couch, he used to have this, uh, habit of rubbing the side of his head against my arm like he was a Tasque. And then he'd smile."

"He still does that. I thought he… it was just him getting comfortable."

"Nah. I think it's some subconscious thing to make sure someone was still there."

'Someone was still there', the reassurance that he hadn't been abandoned. Tenna knew that sentiment all too well. "He told me about how he spent a long time alone before meeting you… Is it linked?"

"I think so, yeah…" Rose let out a frustrated sigh. "I wish I could have found him sooner, that I could have helped him break out of that automatic mode earlier in life. I'm his brother. I'm supposed to protect him! I could stop Addisons picking on him, but I couldn't stop him from using that damn phone!"

"It's okay… none of us could."

"You don't understand, Tenna. Everything went to shit the moment he started receiving calls from his 'Benefactor'! He made it to the top, but he ruined everything!" The Addison caught himself and huffed. "Sorry. I know you aren't why that happened… Did he tell you why we haven't spoken?"

"No. I couldn't figure out why he would cut contact with someone that meant so much to him. He would dance around the topic when I tried to ask."

Rose scoffed. "That's hardly a surprise. To put it very simply: Snow stole confidential customer contact information from the Boutique and sold it in the Dark Alleys - to actual criminals who want to steal money from innocent customers."

"What?? That can't be true!"

"It's true. We have footage of it. And that's only the start of it. Surely you've heard the rumours of him pulling scams on others to get the upper hand in something? He was no better than the scum in the Dark Alleys. It was only the nice suits that separated him from the rest. When I asked him to admit that he stole from me, he argued and shouted. I told him I wouldn't talk to him again until he got his head out of his ass. He stormed out and…" There was a brief pause for a sigh, "That was the last time I saw him. Until your phone call this morning, I was adamant I would dig my heels in and wait until he came to me to apologise. But he never reached out."

"That doesn't sound like him at all, but yet… It does sound exactly like who he became." It was a sobering thought for Tenna as he reflected on how much Spamton really had changed over time. "When he came to the Studio two months ago, he was cagey and suspicious of everything. After a week or two, I started seeing glimpses of the Snow we both knew. It was like he was starting to remember who he used to be."

"Maybe if he's like that again, and maybe if he means it…" Rose was silent for a moment. "I miss my brother, Tenna. I miss who he used to be."

"If the doctors are right that they got everything, I think we might get the real him back."

"I hope so…. Hey, uh… I'll be leaving here soon. Do you want me to drop anything over?"

"Actually, could you… He used to talk about this orange soda somewhere near your store?"

"I know the one."

An hour passed, and there was a knock on the door. When Tenna opened it, he was greeted by one of the Swatchlings and Rose, who swiftly stepped inside once he thanked the Swatchling.

The pink Addison was at least a head taller than his younger brother, but the resemblance was striking. As was expected with Addison siblings, Rose had the same pale pink eyes, but they also had a remarkably similar facial structure. Rose had long hair that was tied at the nape of the neck. Tenna couldn't help but wonder whether that was why Spamton had his hair in a ponytail in the early days. The main difference was in how the brothers styled the shorter segments. While Spamton spiked his back, bar that one piece that always fell forward, Rose gathered them together to let them fall over the right side of his face. 

Rose's outfit was a classier version of the standard Addison uniform. The green trouser-shoe combination was high quality, but the eye was drawn to the black blazer. The lapels were magenta and were decorated with hand-embroidered white roses on each point. A crisp, white shirt with the top button undone was the final piece of the well-dressed outfit. Everything about Rose oozed 'fashion expert', and it was little wonder that Spamton was inspired to appreciate fashion in a similar way.

The brothers even shared physical habits. When Rose withdrew a bag from his inventory, his fingers fidgeted with the handle before passing it over.

"There's six bottles of the orange soda - there was a good deal - and also a keyboard cookie," Rose smiled, only to quickly continue, "It was always his first choice. It would be good motivation for him to get up."

"Thank you, Rose. This is very kind of you. Do you want one?" A bottle was offered to Rose, who quickly accepted. "I can bring you into the room if you want to see him for yourself."

The moment Rose stepped into the bedroom, he was drawn to sit on the edge of the bed, just beside Spamton. His thumb slowly traced the shadows under Spamton's eyes.

"I haven't seen him look this exhausted since the first day I met him. I never would have wished for him to suffer and struggle alone after we fought…" Rose sounded heartbroken. "Bytes, I'm an awful brother. I should have reached out sooner. Maybe then he'd be okay…"

"I don't think any of us could have been able to stop it before it happened. He said something about running out of time."

"What exactly happened yesterday?"

The inevitable question was asked. Tenna lifted a chair and placed it opposite Rose. Only once he was sitting did he recount the main events from the moment Tenna had made that stupid contract that put Spamton in danger, to when the doctors were able to confirm the procedure was a success.

Rose's eyes were on Spamton the whole time. His soda had been placed in his inventory so he could hold his brother's right hand with both hands. They only let go when Tenna finished speaking. In a blink, both hands grabbed fistfuls of Tenna's sweater so Rose could throw him off the chair.

"This is all your fault! You're the reason he's lying there like that! I should - I should… Argh!" Rose let go and stormed off. "I should break your stupid screen! He had a moment to get away from everything and he went to you! You were supposed to keep him safe! And instead you put him in danger!" A shoe projectile was conjured up. It spun in the air until the sharpened point was hovering directly in front of Tenna's screen. If he moved a fraction, it would make contact.

Seconds passed.

Nothing happened. No one moved.

Eventually, the projectile dropped to the floor and disappeared as Rose turned to look at his unconscious brother. "I should hate you… But you protected him. You've stayed with him this whole time when he's at his weakest…"

"I deserve your anger, Rose. I don't blame you for having it," the host's antennae drooped. "I hate myself for what I did, for what happened and what I caused. I didn't know. I would do anything to go back and never start any of this. But I promise you that I will do everything in my power to ensure he has a smooth recovery. And… If he can ever forgive me, I want to spend the rest of my life proving that I love him more than anything."

"You better." Tenna couldn't tell whether Rose was joking or serious. It was better not to ask. When Rose returned to his spot on the side of the bed, Tenna pulled himself onto his feet.

"I'll give you some time alone with him. But… Before I do, there was something I forgot to say…" For the third time today, he mentally apologised for going behind his partner's back. The pause was disguised by Tenna lifting the toppled chair and setting it back in its original place. "When you were in the Cyber Boutique yesterday, you had a phone call where no one spoke and they quickly hung up."

Rose turned toward the host in alarm. "H-how did you know that?"

"That was Snow. He had been threatened that if he didn't return to the city before a certain time, that you would be killed. He told me several times over the last two months that he had no desire to return to Cyber City, but he was on the first train back at the mere thought of you being hurt because of him. You've been on his mind this whole time. He still loves you, even if he feels like he doesn't deserve it anymore."

With tears in his eyes, Rose turned back to Spamton and brushed a finger along his cheek. As expected, his brother smiled.

"You told me earlier today that you two argued." Connections were being made in Tenna's mind, like he was the main character in a detective show. "I suspect he used it as an excuse to cut contact and put distance between you both, yes, but I don't think it was something he wanted to do. Perhaps he felt that if he had no personal connections to anyone, then he could protect them from the consequences of his actions."

The tears began to slip out. Rose sniffed. "Snow… You idiot… I would have been there for you if anything had happened. I promised I'd protect you…"

Tenna gently squeezed the cobbler's shoulder before making his way toward the door. "Take as long as you need."

Rose stayed in the room for an hour. Tenna kept himself busy by finishing the leftovers from breakfast and quietly playing the Studio's broadcast on his screen to try and give some semblance of privacy. Even so, in the quiet moments, he could hear the soft voice of a brother desperate to rebuild what should have never been broken in the first place. He respectfully tuned out anything that sounded like words. This was not a conversation that was to be shared with anyone outside of that room.

When Rose did step out of the room, he was an emotionally drained Darkner. Yet, compared to how he was when he arrived, he was someone who could take a breath without feeling a weight on his chest.

"Thank you, Tenna. For everything. You always have looked out for him, even when he never wanted this lifestyle… I wish I could offer to stay here tomorrow and let you take a break, but I have stock taking that I need to be there for."

"That's alright. I am happy to be here as long as it takes. Please take it easy tonight, Rose. Snow is going to be okay. I'll take care of him."

Those words struck something in Rose's chest as he marched over and hugged Tenna. "Thank you."

When the apartment was empty once more, Tenna decided that there was little point staying awake when he felt so worn out. He set to work completing his night routine and tidying up, only changing into pyjamas before he was ready to climb into bed. As he did the previous night, he gently rolled Spamton onto his side to hold him close.

"You are cherished by so many Darkners. I hope you will see that when you wake up. I love you, Snow. Never forget that."

The screen clicked off as sleep quickly claimed him once more.

Chapter Text

Dark.

There is nothing, and it is too much.

Fully aware of everything, and knowing nothing at all. 

Darkness closes in all around.

It claws and scratches and grabs and squeezes and it hurts.

It hurts.

No air.

Can't breathe.

Need to hold on. Need to keep focused on the moment. Need to be aware and stay here.

But why?

Holding on makes things go bad. Unlucky. Bad luck. Misfortune. Hatred.

And yet letting go is worse?

Can't keep holding on. Harder to think…

"Spamton?"

A voice breaks through the darkness. 

'Spamton'? What is that?

Something touches the side of the face. The touch is different from what is felt in the darkness.

It doesn't hurt. It feels nice.

"Snow? Can you hear me?"

'Snow'... That's 'me', isn't it? I'm Snow. And that voice. That voice isn't me. But it is something near me.

"It's me, Tenna. We're outside. Can you feel the wind?"

'Tenna'. That is someone very close to me. That is 'him'. He is here. 

Not 'here'. 'Outside'.

My grip tightens. I need to stay awake. If he is outside, then I am too. I must be.

I will myself to move, to feel the wind. 

"Yes, that's it. There's a gentle breeze that gives a light chill. We're out in the gardens. Do you remember when we came out here for a walk and you suggested we should climb into the fountain when I said it didn't look too deep?"

I know nothing. But he speaks, and I remember. I remember looking up and seeing his shocked expression at the idea. I remember how he grabbed me when I pretended to move toward the frame surrounding the fountain. I remember laughing so hard I couldn't breathe. He laughed at me.

Maybe he hears what I say. He laughs now. It's so beautiful to listen to.

"Yes, that's right. And we'll have coffee out here tomorrow, you and me. No, scratch that. Hot chocolates from that café you like. We should treat ourselves, right?"

'You and me'. That's how it always should be, right?

I want to be closer. I move whatever I can toward him. I feel his hand. It's warm.

"Yes, that's right, Snowdrop… I'm here. I'm right here."

Tenna… My Tenna. My shining star. My favourite show. My Showstopper.

My grip on my mind and my thoughts are as strong as they can be. I feel the smallest piece of control return to me, and I take it. I throw away the darkness and make the eyes open. If I am dead, so be it. If I live, then let me be greeted by the sight of…

"Heaven…?"

"No, it's Tenna."

I can't move anything. That makes me panic. 

My mind wasn't ready for this. It's too much energy to pilot a disconnected body, to focus, to concentrate. But I want to be here. I need to be. But I know I don't have long.

Tenna is perfect, but he's upset. He's apologising. If this is where I die, I want him to smile.

So I pivot the conversation, as I always do when I don't want to talk about something. I simply choose a different topic and shove it into the body of the message, like a new paragraph in an email.

I talk about food and a dish I want to try while in this Dark World. I ask him out on a lunch date, hoping that I'll be there to go with him.

(Ah, there it is. That wonderful laugh.)

I tell him that I love him. That's the most important thing.

He kisses me.

I want to stay. I want to live and be with Tenna. 

But my energy is gone. I can't hold on.

The simple task of holding my head upright is impossible.

I can't focus.

Can't think.

I lose my grip.

Dark.

Once more, darkness.

But this time… It wasn't overbearing. It was empty. It was easy to simply drift aimlessly and feel nothing. There was nothing to hold onto. 

Everything was so far away. This was so isolated.

Then, slowly, something did reach out. He was tethered onto something. Even so, there wasn't anything he could do. He was suspended, but no longer drifting.

That sense of security and grounding came at a cost. Memories and awareness began to return to him. There was guilt and regret for things he wasn’t able to do, for those he left behind.

Of course this was how it ended. He was Snow Addison: the email guy, the bearer of misfortune. Take one look at the Thorn Ring and you would know Snow was bad luck personified! He was Spamton G. Spamton: the #1 Rated Salesman of 1997 who didn't have the ability to make a sale by himself, the scam artist using the front of an honest business. But boy, he sure put on a show!

Of course he wouldn't be allowed to keep his happiness! Why should he? Everyone wanted him to suffer. If they didn't, why did no one help him when he needed them? Why did everyone let him… 

He should have fought harder in the office. Endured longer. Anything! The Benefactor ruined it all! And now he was gone! He was nothing!

But why did he feel a tear on his cheek?

A tear?

Spamton's eyes shot open. He was lying on his left side. He used his right index finger to gently press against the tear. Even in the darkness, he could see the faint glow of his white skin, dull as it was compared to what he remembered. He had his body back, but how?

He felt so upset for what he had failed to do, and yet… His chest felt so full of love.

Love… Wasn't that what they said you would feel when you were dead? The sermons he listened to on the radio would talk about Heaven. It was supposed to be a place of love, and safety; a moment where he could feel happiness forever. Not that he deserved to be in Heaven in the first place but… Maybe he had been forgiven in his final moments. Maybe that was why he could be here in this form.

Was that how it worked for Darkners too? He was software, not a phyiscal item like most. Even with his own body, he was something that had been installed into something else. How does Heaven work for him? Would he have this moment to load, and then be factory reset? Would the memories of this Addison fade away to allow a new Addison to start? Would he fall back asleep and simply disappear?

Or… Maybe Darkners had a personal, specialised Heaven?

His Heaven… What would that look like? Once, he might have said it would be swanky and elegant. Somewhere filled with riches and the finest items that could ever be found. He might have justified it by saying he worked hard and now deserved a comfortable rest. But now, he just wanted Tenna. He wanted to be held by the Darkner he loved with all his being.

Heaven responded. There was movement around him. Tenna was there, fast asleep. Spamton became aware of how the host's arms wrapped around him like a bubble of safety, as Tenna always preferred. It was perfect, just like he remembered it, except for one detail. Normally, when they slept like this, Spamton's back would be against Tenna's chest. Was the change simply an opportunity to show Spamton that his wish had been granted? He wasn't going to be ungrateful!

In the peace of the darkness, he looked up to admire Tenna. At first, the mood soured. Why was he happy to see Tenna? It was his fault that Spamton was dead! Him and his stupid big mouth and his damn contract! It kick-started this whole mess! The contract he signed killed him before the phone ever rang!

And yet… Tenna had apologised multiple times. He travelled to Cyber City. He stayed and rescued Spamton from the clutches of the Benefactor. Tenna was there in the garden, just before Spamton died.

Tenna really was his Heaven.

He closed his eyes and took a breath to put a mental block in place. Now that he was dead, he didn't want Angel to accidentally appear if Spamton was overcome with a surge of emotions. If it discovered they were no longer alive and would never see anyone else again, Angel would be so upset. The concept of 'death' was completely foreign to the little child-like summon. He would need to figure out a way to explain this later. 

Spamton opened his eyes once more. Heaven Tenna looked so peaceful while he slept. Would the Living Tenna be okay? He wanted the Darkner he loved to move on without him. He wanted Tenna to smile again, to love again, without him. It was okay to let him go.

"I'm so sorry I've left you alone in Cyber City," he whispered. "I hope you will be okay without me…" His right hand reached up to softly rest the pads of his fingers against the side of Tenna's frame.

The screen turned on at full brightness. 

Spamton reeled back and covered his eyes with his hand. "What the -?!"

Tenna's arms instantly moved away, and Spamton could hear the sound of him shuffling in the bed. He fumbled with one arm to pull himself into a sitting position, mentally cursing his left arm for being numb with how he had been lying on it. Being able to use both hands would be really helpful right now!

"Ant? What's going on? I can't see!" With eyes clenched shut, Spamton blindly patted in front of him, only stopping when he felt one of Tenna's knees. "Can you please turn off your screen?"

"No." Tenna sounded scared.

"It's okay," Spamton squeezed the knee, "I know I'm dead. It's okay. You don't need to hide it from me, Showstopper. I can handle it."

"D-don't start that. Please. I… I just want him back. Don't pretend to be him again."

"What do you mean? I'm me. I promise. I'm…" 

Suddenly, Spamton understood. If the last thing Living Tenna had seen was a threat of Spamton being hacked, Heaven Tenna might be fearful of the same thing. "If you're going to blind me, the least you can do is go buy me a hot chocolate. You said so in the garden, so you owe me. But if you buy it in the Color Café, that's wrong." He gambled brushing his thumb against Tenna's knee. It wasn't grabbed or pushed away. That was good. "The right place is called 'Sweet Dreams', remember? It's not far from the Mansion. And when you're out, could you check what colour they chose to paint the walls? They hadn't decided last time I was there."

Slowly, the screen's brightness began to dim. Spamton cracked one eye open, only to shut it when it was still too bright.

"Snowdrop…?"

"It's me, Ant. I'm sorry I scared you awake. Can you please turn off the screen so I can see you again?" There was a hesitation, but the light dropped, followed by a click as a lamp was turned on. Spamton slowly opened his eyes to adjust.

It was Tenna's room in the Queen's Mansion. They were both wearing pyjamas. Tenna sat on the opposite side of the bed, curled over defensively. He looked exhausted and vulnerable, and Spamton couldn't shake the suspicion that it wasn't purely because of being woken. He wanted to reach over and kiss Tenna, but that was a bad idea. He didn't want to risk causing further distress.

Instead, he looked around. The bedroom was a familiar sight, but there was a small mess. Tenna was normally so tidy, but things were stacked on the table. That was the proof he needed to know this wasn't the right place. Even so, he was quiet for several moments as he let this fact sink in. When his gaze returned to Tenna, a soft smile formed.

"It's all so normal," Spamton chuckled. He awkwardly shifted himself so he could properly sit on the bed. Strangely, his left arm was still asleep. His right arm began rubbing his left shoulder as he added, "I didn't know what to expect, but this is perfect. It's exactly what I would have wanted."

"What are you talking about?"

"Here. Heaven. I knew it was supposed to be the ideal version of what makes you happy but… I suppose being anywhere with you is perfect for me."

Tenna's laugh was quiet, and almost sad. "Snow, you aren't dead."

"Yes I am." Spamton's counter had Tenna huff. His screen flickered to life as he began to replay something from his perspective.

"It's alright, Mr Tenna. A file extraction is physically exhausting for the patient, especially against something as stubborn as that. He will likely still be out for the rest of the day at the very least while his mind works on reclaiming full control. It is safe to put him back on the bed."

"What the…?" Spamton leaned in a little closer, watching the blue Ambyu-lance step away. "That's Geepev. You two never met when I was alive. And… that's me. Lying there."

On the screen, Tenna's view lifted to show a digital display.  "His vitals are returning to normal. This is good news. The procedure was a success."

"The procedure…? A success…?"

"A file extraction. Something bad was removed from you." Tenna turned the replay off, unwilling to show more than he absolutely had to. He slowly reached over and lifted Spamton's right hand. It was placed on the side of his neck. "Can you feel a pulse?"

Spamton nodded.

"In a murder mystery drama, the victim never has a pulse. They don't respond to anything, they can't feel anything." The words were merely a distraction, as Tenna swiftly used his other hand to lightly flick Spamton on the cheek. Without a glove, it had a sting to it.

"Ow!"

Spamton paused. That hurt.

Heaven was supposed to have no pain.

"But I…" Words failed him. "I was in darkness, drifting alone. That was limbo. And then I was brought here. But that… But you…"

The pair fell silent, each connecting the dots to his own dilemma. Spamton felt tears stinging his eyes right as Tenna's concern dropped into shock.

"... I'm alive."

"It's really you."

Spamton awkwardly crawled over to kneel in front of Tenna. Once he was close enough, Tenna leaned down, and the pair met in a kiss. Tenna gasped and pulled back.

"I'm so sorry I blinded you earlier! I thought that - you were using the right hand, and that was one that…"

"It's okay. I would have been scared too if the roles were swapped. My left arm is numb. I'm sorry for scaring you - both now and in the office." A large hand cupped the side of his face, and Spamton quickly pressed into it. "Thank you for not leaving me behind."

"I told you I would stay! I was so scared you weren't going to wake up, Snow…” Tenna trailed off. Cautiously, Spamton moved his right hand to slowly drape it around the back of Tenna's neck. The host's arms wrapped around him and held him tight, yet with such care, like the Addison was a fragile porcelain doll. When Tenna spoke again, his voice cracked. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Snow. I never meant to hurt you. I didn't want any of that. I'm so sorry I caused all of this because I was being selfish and horrible. I never should have written that stupid contract, I don't want to lose you…"

"It's alright, it's alright," Spamton held on tighter, "I forgive you. You didn't know. I never told you the truth. I'm not angry at you, and I'm not going anywhere, okay?"

Tenna sniffed and rested part of his frame on Spamton's right shoulder. "Okay… I missed you. I missed you s-so much."

"I missed you too, Showstopper."

After an emotional roller coaster, neither of them were in the mood to go back to sleep just yet. Tenna sat with his back against the headboard. Spamton was curled up against him in such a way that pinned his left arm against Tenna's chest. He could hear the faint thumping of his heart, and the soft whirring of Tenna's inner workings. Tenna's arms were warm as they protectively wrapped around him. He was safe, grounded in the knowledge that he really was here.

Somehow, despite all the odds stacked against him, Spamton was alive, and Tenna had a part to play in it. He was sure of that. There was no way he would have succeeded on his own.

They stayed like this for several minutes. The calm was blissful. Both of them were here, both of them were safe. Everything was okay.

Then, Spamton looked up. There was a scuff mark on the underside of Tenna's frame that wasn’t there before everything happened. He had personally checked Tenna's head before that final phone call. That meant…

"I hurt you."

"I'm okay. I can’t feel it."

"No. Let me…" Spamton reached up. His hand had a soft green glow as he healed the bruise. Normally, he would have called Angel, but it was better to keep the summon blocked for the foreseeable future; both to let it be safe from the emotional turmoil, and to let Spamton build back up his strength first. "You've done so much for me. It's the least I can do to repay you."

"You don't owe me anything. I ruined everything. You should hate me."

"Funny you say that, because I love you. That's not gonna change, big guy. But -" Spamton was quick to continue before Tenna interrupted him, "- talk about what happened. Let it out. You've had to do all this on your own the whole time we've been in Cyber City."

Tenna held Spamton closer. "That Benefactor you told me about… It took over your body. It used you like a puppet, just like you said it would. And it tried to attack me, trick me, distract me… But I never let it near the phone. You told me that you didn't want to answer it. I didn't let you. I think you tried to stop it with your left hand, but it hit that shoulder and it stopped the movement. I think that's why you said it's still numb…" Tenna paused to take a short, shaky breath. "I was able to grab you and bring you outside and you started talking and I thought you were okay but you were exhausted and... And then you passed out and that was nearly two days ago…"

"Two days??"

"T-then I had Dr Geepev and Professor Norta here to check you… They did that file extraction and it had the word 'puppet' in the name. And sometimes during it you turned into a puppet and…" Tenna's voice shook. "I was so scared, Snow… I-I don't know what I would have done if you had become that thing's puppet. I wouldn't have been able to keep going without you, knowing that it was all my fault. But they got it out. They got the program out…” Tenna swallowed a lump in his throat. His grip loosened as he looked away.

“Ant? What else happened? There’s something else, I know it.” Tenna was a very emotional Darkner. It was impossible to ignore how something else was still troubling him. But Tenna shook his head. "It's okay. Whatever it is… You can tell me."

Once more, Tenna shook his head. This time, the screen turned off. Static took over, broken with intermittent horizontal bars like it was trying to tune into something.

When Tenna turned back to Spamton, he could see his face in the screen - but it wasn't simply his reflection. Instead, it was a distorted, eerie version of himself.

A voice came through the speaker.

"You accused me of lying this morning…"

Spamton's breath caught in his throat. That was his voice, but he didn't remember saying that.

"But you were wrong about what I lied about… I lied every time we kissed."

"What…?" No. That wasn't right. That couldn't be further from the truth!

"I never loved you, Tenna," the not-Spamton on the screen whispered, "You had the power that I needed to -" 

Spamton pressed his hand over the screen. He didn't want to hear the rest. His stomach turned at merely thinking those things. When he was sure that the mockery wouldn't continue, he moved his shaking hand to cradle the corner of Tenna's frame. 

"Tenna, no, no… that's not true at all. I love you so much. You mean everything to me." Spamton was sure to stress that. "I promise you that every time I've said 'I love you', I've said it with my whole heart. I've never loved anyone more than I have you."

"Do… Do you mean it?" The screen was still off.

"I do. I promise you, I do. I love TV, and I love you. And I will say it as many times as you want me to, every single day we're together when we go home."

"Y-you… Home?" The screen clicked on, allowing the face to reappear, but Tenna didn't look at Spamton.

“Yeah. I want to go back home with you. The moment we can get a train, I want to go back to the Studio, back to our condo." He pressed his hand a little harder against the frame to try and emphasise that he was there. "I want to wake up every morning beside you. I want to finish that stupid argument we were having last week over which shade of green we should paint the guest bedroom. I want to interrupt script review meetings with cups of coffee. I want to spend evenings getting distracted from cooking dinner because I heard a song on the radio and I want you to dance with me in the kitchen. I want to fall asleep in your arms. There’s nowhere in all the Dark Worlds I want to be, because I love you.”

"You do…?"

"I love you, Tenna. I love you. And I don’t think I’ll ever stop. I never want to. I want to always love you.”

Tears slipped out of the screen, but there was a wide, shaky smile. Tenna's nose shuddered, and Spamton was rewarded with the sight of a red blossom, only for that joy to swiftly disappear when he realised that he had never seen Tenna produce a flower that was so tiny and brittle. The flower had barely bloomed before the petals fell off. How worn out was Tenna?

"I love you too, Snow. I love you so much. I-I'm going to tear up that s-stupid contract and burn it and stomp the ashes and-"

"And you're going to rest. You're exhausted. Your screen has more static dots on it than usual." Spamton pulled his sleeve over his hand and gently pressed it against the screen to help dry up the tears that needed to escape.

"What about you?"

"We'll figure me out later. We have a bigger problem right now." Tenna's confusion prompted Spamton to nod. "That's right. Me being out for two days means you're two days short of your cuddle quota." Spamton playfully waggled his eyebrows, which got a little laugh out of Tenna.

"B-but you shouldn't be… Not with your…"

That prompted Spamton to glance down. The left arm was still completely useless. If what Tenna said was true about Spamton injuring it while under the Benefactor’s control, it wouldn’t be back in commission any time soon. "Hmm. That is true… Maybe I can only give you a 'cud' right now. The 'dle' will have to happen later."

"That's not what I meant!"

Spamton huffed. "I'm a businessman. I take hitting my quotas very seriously! Wait! I know." His right hand reached across to lift the dead-weight left arm so he could flop it over Tenna's shoulder. "There we go! Perfect. Well. Nearly perfect." Before Tenna could ask, Spamton surged forward to kiss him again while draping his right arm over the other shoulder. "There. Now it's perfect." One more kiss was given for good measure. "I love you, my perfect, beautiful cathode. I love you, my handsome centerpiece, my main attraction… Wanna lie down and cuddle properly for a little while?"

"I think it's a good idea. You probably shouldn't be this energetic after everything that happened."

"Relaaax, there's no stopping me! I’m on a high!"

Those same words made Tenna chuckle three minutes later, once Spamton had immediately fallen asleep the moment they settled back in the bed. Tenna’s fingers brushed against Spamton’s cheek.

To his absolute delight, the Addison nestled in closer with a smile.

Chapter Text

Morning came, and the Dark World left them be. When Spamton stirred, it was his own decision rather than being startled awake by an alarm. He took a slow breath and took in his surroundings. He was still lying on his side, curled up against Tenna. However, the host's fear of losing Spamton must have eased, as Tenna had moved away to lie on his back.

The Addison carefully pulled himself up and crawled to the edge of the bed. No response from Tenna. Spamton gingerly stood up and crossed the room. No reaction. There had barely been a shift in Tenna's breathing when Spamton returned with a note to leave on the empty pillow:

‘Going to the bathroom and then the kitchen. S.’

Hesitating for a few moments, Spamton took in the sight below him. Tenna was a Darkner heavily based on his Lightner form. It was hard to figure out some things, such as how his body was doing. However, for someone who knew him well, it was easy to tell when Tenna was truly exhausted: the screen. To a casual onlooker, Tenna's screen was off, as it always was when he was asleep. Not this time. The TV was still on, but it was in sleep mode. He hadn't the energy to properly turn it off.

In all the time they had known each other, this was only the third time that Tenna had over-exerted himself in such a way. The seeds of worry that had been planted last night were beginning to sprout. What did he go through on his own? If Spamton had been forced to lie while under the Benefactor’s control, what else happened? How scared had Tenna been, where Spamton waking up brought fear before relief?

If this had been a normal, lazy morning, Spamton would have relished coming up with the best way to wake Tenna up in revenge for all the times Tenna did it to him, but there was a strong possibility that it would only make matters worse. The clock on the wall stated that it was only seven in the morning.

Spamton smiled softly, brushing a finger against the frame and powering down the screen. Let Tenna sleep a little longer.

The bathroom door was carefully locked behind him. Now that his body was up and moving again, there were certain routines that needed to be dealt with. Ordinary, mundane habits that helped drive home the fact that Spamton truly was alive.

This thought hit him hardest after washing his face. It was already a struggle with one hand, but the need to double-check his reflection to make sure he had properly dried himself off made him slow his actions.

He looked exhausted and sickly, despite how much he had been physically resting. The natural white hue of his skin was a shade or two duller. The last time it had been this weak was when he was stuck in his default programming, back when he was a nameless Addison. That was before he had been discovered by Rose - a period of atrocious self-care due to lack of awareness. To pull away from those thoughts, he gently poked and prodded his face. Nothing was out of place, nothing had shifted. That was good. Despite all the threats, warnings, and visions, Spamton's face was still that of an Addison, not a puppet or a corpse. Even so…

"Spamton G. Spamton… You look like shit." The salesman had a habit of muttering to himself when he was alone, ever since he started talking to other Darkners face-to-face. Once he began working with the Benefactor, it morphed into quietly arguing with himself. A voice had formed, one that belittled and insulted him. Was it a reminder of his sins, was it his own self-loathing?

It didn't matter. It didn't answer.

In fact, Spamton's thoughts were completely clear. When he was in Cyber City, his head would fill with mutterings and whispers of voices that were impossible to decipher. They would grow in number and intensity until Spamton struggled to hold onto his actual train of thought.

But there was nothing. Just silence. 

Had they been removed as part of the file extraction that Tenna mentioned?

A slow inhale, followed by an exhale, allowed Spamton the small luxury of taking a moment of peace without the bloatware in his mind. More importantly, it grounded him as he looked at his reflection again.

In the quiet of the early morning, this would be the best chance to examine the consequences of his actions that day. It was better to make the discoveries, if any, alone. Tenna was already tangled up in guilt and remorse. Spamton couldn't burden his boyfriend with recalling horrific memories.

The most obvious evidence of the possession was his limp left arm. With this as his focus, he put his willpower into lifting it… But nothing happened. Squeezing his eyes shut to try and focus on any part of the arm was fruitless. He really couldn't move it.

Slowly, he pressed his right palm against his shoulder, adjusting the position to figure out where the ability to feel anything stopped. From what he could tell, it was just before the ball of the shoulder.

“F-fuck… Is it paralysed? It doesn’t feel broken. Nothing looks weird or hurts…” The only way he could be certain was to pull off his pyjama shirt that Tenna had dressed him in at some point after the possession. It was a struggle to remove with one hand, but his action was interrupted by a series of sharp, stinging pains in his back. At first, he assumed it was simply a consequence of inactivity, but this morphed into panic when the same pains happened again. The shirt was slightly torn in his struggle to get it off and turn to try and see his back in the mirror. 

“What the…?”

His back was littered with fresh cuts that were approximately the size of his thumb. He could count nine cuts, all with one side deeper than the other, as though something dug into his skin. It was like the Thorn Ring’s markings -

The Thorn Ring.

Where was it??

The material pouch clipped around his stomach was still there, but it was already unzipped. There wasn't anything there. Not only that, his right ring finger had no fresh cuts on it. Somehow, he never wore the ring that day. Was that because it was on his back instead? How could that even work?? The ring had never physically changed size before! It only made its presence known by extending its presence to his stomach when he was stressed. It never actually changed appearance! Maybe he would have to ask Tenna something about that day after all…

Spamton shook his head and forced himself to examine the left arm. Aside from it being immobile, and a bruise that matched the area Spamton could stop feeling anything, it was completely unharmed. Nothing felt out of place.

The same couldn't be said for the right arm. When he turned to his reflection, Spamton was greeted with the sight of colourful injuries.

"What the fuck, what the fuck…" There was a small cluster of red marks near the right shoulder, but somehow that was less terrifying than the bold, hand-shaped bruise wrapped around his right wrist. He moved his wrist to be beneath his left hand, which created a perfect match. Why did the Benefactor inflict so many injuries? Was this a consequence of Spamton actively refusing?

No, that couldn't be it. Most of the injuries were on his right arm. That was the limb he lost control of first. If it was the Benefactor's doing, the injuries would be mirrored. Instead, Spamton recalled Tenna saying how his left arm struggled. Even when he was fully under, something in Spamton's mind fought back. He couldn't remember actively doing anything, but he knew from previous experience that he would struggle when he would start losing control. Maybe that was what happened. Maybe his initial struggle was why the Benefactor lied with his voice. Did Spamton hurt Tenna in any other way?

Was that his punishment this time? Tenna had ensured the actual punishment didn't happen…

Those visions of his hands turning wooden and segmented. The feeling of white strings digging into him. The sensation of losing his ability to breathe as his body shifted into something much smaller.

It was real. He had felt it.

Tenna had said he had seen Spamton's body try to change too. That was supposed to be his punishment: become a puppet for daring to break free from the strings.

"No wonder he was a mess last night…" Tenna had done the impossible and cut Spamton free instead. But what was the price he had to pay in exchange? There was a strong chance that Spamton simply being awake and moving would be enough to bring the pain of guilt and regret back to Tenna. Spamton couldn't stand the thought of his partner suffering like that.

If they were going to get through this together, Spamton would need to take all this in his stride, for Tenna. He would need to pretend that all of this was another day in the office. He could lock all these emotions away. It was something he had burdened himself with this entire time - what was a few weeks more? - but this time it was for Tenna. If he could minimise the impact of any bad day, show that he was able to get up and carry on like this was a small blip, then… Maybe that would help bring back his Tenna and prove that everything would be okay.

This was his second chance at life. He shouldn’t be alive! He should be a useless, dead puppet that was thrown out with the trash! But here he was: walking, talking, thinking clearly…

Tenna could have let that fate happen. He could have rightfully taken out his anger and let the phone be answered. Instead, he kept Spamton close. Love really was stronger than anger and betrayal.

From today, he vowed to be an honest Darkner. No more scamming, no more cheating. If Tenna could forgive him, then maybe Heaven could too.

He pulled back on the pyjama shirt, not bothering to put the left arm through the sleeve, and stepped out of the ensuite. Tenna was still asleep, and he looked so peaceful.

Spamton’s heart fluttered, and with it came a wave of relief. Despite all the injuries and pain, the lies and hurt, the love he felt for Tenna remained unharmed. He would help Tenna heal as much as Tenna would help him recover.

In the kitchen, a breakfast had been left for Tenna. One portion made sense - no one knew Spamton was awake. The smell was so enticing as his body suddenly remembered the simple joy of food. He crept over, reaching out with the intent of stealing just one piece, only to stop.

To the right, a bag caught his eye. The branding didn't belong to the Color Café. Rather, it was a small store hidden in the West Shopping District that Spamton used to enjoy going to when he was a simple white Addison. But he hadn't kept any of their bags, so that ruled out the idea of it being used for grocery shopping.

Curiosity overruled manners as he tugged it open. Inside, there were four bottles of his favourite orange soda and an unopened keyboard cookie. Tenna wouldn’t have known where that store was, nor which brand to choose.

Had Rose visited?

No. He didn't want to think about the idea that his brother didn’t despise him for everything he did and for the hurt he had caused. He couldn't focus on the fact that maybe his own family might care about him after all.

He could feel the surge of emotion, but he didn't have the energy to cry this early in the morning after the shock of discovering his injuries. A distraction was needed, and he shoved the unopened cookie into his mouth as a makeshift second hand so he could snatch up a bottle and the newspaper in one hand.

Once he had stormed over to the couch and spread the newspaper on the coffee table, he smashed the cookie against the table and unwrapped it. Then, he sat down, held the bottle in place with his knees, and unscrewed the lid of the soda. The intention had been to simply put the bottle down, but one sip was enough to make him realise how he was parched. It was downed in record time.

Then, only then, did he feel ready to start reading the newspaper as some form of distraction.

Unfortunately, he didn’t get far in this plan. On the fourth page, a headline jumped out at him:

‘Confirmed: #1 Rated Salesman Still in Critical Condition After Electrical Accident’

“What the…?” Spamton blinked hard and reread it to be sure he wasn’t seeing things. Two pieces of cookie were lifted as he began silently reading.

‘Following yesterday's report, our eye in the Mansion was able to do further investigation on this curious incident. According to whispers in the corridors, Spamton G. Spamton had been electrocuted in his office. The Big Shot's office was off-limits for our eye, but some Swatchlings were spotted attempting to restore power to the office. His whereabouts are currently unknown. No hospital in the city can confirm whether he has been admitted as a patient. No other medical practitioners appeared in the Mansion. He may have been quietly relocated to another location overnight for further treatment.’

Spamton sighed. "Heaven's sake, don't they have anything better to do?" Before he could push it away, the final paragraph caught his eye:

‘This latest discovery follows the sudden and rapid decline of Spamton's ranking, stunted only by confirmation of this accident occurring that same day. Whatever happened is only the start of a long climb back to the top of the charts for Mr Big Shot.’

If the article was correct, Spamton’s ratings were going to plummet in record time once they realised he was awake. No Addison lost their position that fast if there was no scandal… But Spamton’s ranking was fake. The Benefactor had artificially inflated it to further boost his branding. If Spamton had refused for the last time, he would have lost everything immediately. That made sense.

"Wait a minute…" Spamton perked up, rereading the final paragraph. The ratings were still there. His 'accident' had stopped it dropping dangerously low. That bought him the smallest window of time. He needed to rescue Big Shot Autos. There was a chance he was still going to Hell after all of this, but that was an honest business! It became the honest front for his dishonest work. He had staff who had no idea what mess their boss had been caught up in, because Spamton had handled the nasty affairs of the job by himself! Darkners needed that business to stay open so they could pay their bills! If he used this 'accident' to his advantage, he could successfully hand the torch to his assistant without negative consequences.

The wheels were turning in his mind. The Benefactor couldn’t return and tempt him with something that Spamton was no longer connected to. Not only that, his assistant, Russell, was truly passionate about cars! There was literally no one better suited for the role in Spamton's eyes!

He snapped open his emails and started typing:

Subject: Urgent Meeting

Good morning Russell,

I'm in Cyber City. How soon can we arrange a meeting between us, the board, and the lawyers? Today. As soon as possible.

Spamton.

He needed to get up and get moving. The faster he could quit, the better. He would be doing everyone a favour by keeping the business alive. The shady deals would die with his career. As he made his way back to the bedroom, a reply appeared:

Re: Urgent Meeting

Mr Spamton??? What are you doing??? Aren’t you critically injured???

I can arrange the meeting for you but are you okay??? Why are you doing this???

Spamton grinned. This would be a perfect opportunity to take advantage of this weird story.

Re: Urgent Meeting

I’m okay! S:^)

I woke up last night. I’m going on medical leave after this, but there’s something I need to do first. Let me know as soon as you can get this sorted.

Thanks Russell. You're the best.

Spamton.

He opened the bedroom door in time to see a groggy Tenna rising out of the bed. The note was in his hand.

"Good morning, Showstopper."

"Spamton…? Why are you up? You should be resting today."

"I know, but there's some things I need to do today."

"No. You need to go to the doctor. I promised."

"I know you did, and I'm sorry that I'm not doing what you want. But the papers say I got electrocuted, for some reason, and I need to use this to my advantage.”

“Advan… What?”

“I became the '#1 Rated Salesman' because of the Benefactor. Without them, everything is going to crash and burn," Spamton sighed. "I only have today to save Big Shot Autos from going into receivership. I need to save livelihoods, and I know what to do. I can’t risk looking like someone who is on the mend. I need to look as injured and weak as possible to help sell the story.”

Tenna slowly approached, a frown spreading on his face. "So you really are a crook."

"Yes. I'm a selfish, rotten crook, and that is the truth. But not for much longer, I promise. It's for something good, if I can do it right. This is the last thing I need to do… And then I'll come clean to you about everything." His email screen popped up, granting him a brief moment to skim the message. Russell pulled through. "I have a meeting at 11."

"And it looks to be 9 now," Tenna finished, throwing a glance to the clock. "You'll have time for some breakfast before you go."

"Is it okay if you help me get dressed first? I don't think I'll be able to button a shirt with one hand." He gestured to the rip in his pyjama shirt to prove as much.

Tenna smiled. "Of course."

With Tenna's help, Spamton was able to slowly change into his bright red Big Shot suit. As he reached for the tie, Tenna gently put his hand over Spamton's to stop him.

"If you want to look sickly, you shouldn't wear a tie. Not only can you not physically tie one with one hand, the thoughts of trying to figure it out would tire you out."

"You… You want to help me lie?"

"You're playing a part," Tenna corrected, "at least, that's the impression you're giving me. I can help give you tips and suggestions to sell the act. You said this is to help you do something good rather than hurt other Darkners, and I want to believe you."

"Please, believe me. And after this, I'll never lie to hurt others again."

"You should never lie again, full stop. Lying is bad. My Lightner family always says so."

"So I should have told the truth when we were planning Elnina's surprise party?" Spamton quirked an eyebrow with a playful smirk.

Tenna paused. After a moment of thought, he scowled at his boyfriend. Damn him and his logic. "Okay, fine. You can lie about good things for nice surprises." Spamton cackled and returned the tie to its original spot.

After breakfast, before Spamton could leave, Tenna disappeared into the bedroom without a word. The Addison sighed. There was a good chance that Tenna was still disappointed in Spamton for being corrupt by choice. It was like pulling the mask off a costume. Whatever way Tenna had once viewed him, it didn't matter anymore as it was tarnished by the crimes bubbling under the surface. He was hardly surprised to find he was setting off alone. It was best to quietly slip out to prevent an argument.

"Snowdrop?"

Spamton turned. Tenna was approaching with something in his hand.

"You weren't going to leave without letting me see you off, right?"

"Sorry, I… thought you wanted to be alone."

"I was looking for something," Tenna knelt down and gently shook out the material he was holding. Spamton recognised it as being one of Tenna's favourite silk scarves. "I don't want you hurting your arm when you can't feel anything. Let me wrap it up for you."

"Thank you."

Tenna's scarf was longer than one Spamton would wear. It was ideal to use as a makeshift sling once the length was folded in half. The tan material was soft to touch, reducing the potential for irritation or friction burns once Tenna securely tied it in place. With how close they were like this, it was easy for Tenna to kiss Spamton's cheek. 

"Good luck at this meeting."

"Thanks, Ant. I promise I won't be long."

"Are you sure you don't want me to drive you there?"

"I'm sure. I need some air…" Spamton paused, looking down at his left arm. "Hey, Ant? The paper said I was electrocuted. I'm going to capitalise on that but… Do you have any idea where that story came from?"

"That was me. I lied to Swatch and said you were electrocuted when you answered the phone. I thought we were alone, but someone must have overheard. The doctors said to not correct it."

Once more, something in the Addison's chest fluttered. He should have expected Tenna would have a part in that. "Thank you Ant, seriously. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"I didn't want the whole City knowing what happened to you, not without you deciding what the truth should be." Another kiss was placed on Spamton's cheek for good measure, though it did little to distract Spamton from the way part of Tenna's screen tinted pink. "I'll see you later."

Chapter Text

One of the many benefits to moving into Queen's Mansion during Spamton's peak was how it was a much shorter commute to Big Shot Autos, the company that he had sold his soul for, compared to his old apartment. Most days, Spamton would elect to drive there, purely to show off, but it was a pleasant walk when he needed to stretch his legs and get some fresh air. Today, he was able to reflect on both the story he needed to fabricate and the state of the business itself.

Big Shot Autos wasn't the only car dealership in Cyber City, but it was considered the most reputable. That was Spamton's intention long before he got tangled up in phone cables. Affordable cars, reliable support. Every dollar that entered the accounts was an honestly earned dollar. Its reputation preceded it.

Each dishonest dollar was handled directly by Spamton in countless "off the book" deals, offers made under the table, or through jobs unrelated to the car business entirely. Each scam and trick was played by Spamton, and no one else. It was him that closed the deals, or pulled the plug, or even fought a few scraps. The corrupt side of the business was one that he ran while wearing every single hat that was needed. That was why he was always under pressure when the Benefactor gave him demands. Tenna questioned why Spamton couldn’t hire help for the urgent jobs, but there was no way to explain it. He simply lied and pretended everything he had to directly deal with was confidential.

Without him there, his dealership would continue on. He was certain of that. The lies did nothing to prop the business up. It could easily stand on its own. He had disappeared for two months and everything was running smoothly.

He forced himself to stop walking. There was absolutely another him that became consumed by this need to scheme and lie. If he had stopped viewing Darkners as individuals and more like stepping stones to get where he wanted…

'Spamton' was a stage name that he grew attached to. His work was with emails, not just the spam! What sort of degenerate would he be if he was obsessed with taking advantage of others?

"Stupid fucking voice." A small rock was kicked. If he hadn't been so stupid, he'd be a less successful Addison with two working arms and zero near-death experiences. He was so useless and stupid!

That was why he needed to do this. He needed to make one final plea to prove he wasn't rotten. He wasn't trash. There was still something good to salvage.

With a deep breath, Spamton forced himself to keep going. A distraction was needed, and there was a sob story that he needed to conjure up. If only this was a world where he had simply been electrocuted…

The headquarters of Big Shot Autos was a large, one-story building that matched the dark blue aesthetic of the city. Several large windows gave a glimpse into the world of cars: the main showroom, the reception for the offices, and even some of the offices themselves. This building served as a backdrop to the familiar, eye-catching logo of bright red and yellow. As both the main dealership and the home to the main offices of the business, it needed to be Big. Originally, Spamton wanted one building to be a one-stop shop for everything, but it became more sensible to relocate repairs and check-ups to a smaller venue off-site.

An expansive yard sprawled out in front of the building. Cars of different shapes and sizes were lined up neatly in their white-paint boxes. At a glance, Spamton counted three groups of Darkners who were perusing the different options available. The popular manual line, the innovative automatic range… Even some of the Easy Cruise Cungaderos. What had initially been a mistake by Spamton while practicing how to create cars at a normal size, the Easy Cruise became an unexpected, popular choice. With a little pair of legs and a mind of its own, it somehow served as both a pet and a vehicle. 

To this day, he had no idea why they were so popular, and he suspected that had nothing to do with the Benefactor.

What a strange feeling it was. Spamton, an Addison who was supposed to stick with moderating the emails, finding a way to create cars. He was so proud of how everything turned out, yet there was no regret for what he was about to do, not even when an unsold Easy Cruise model trotted up to him and meekly bumped his hip with its 'snout'. Somehow, every single one recognised him, even if he wasn’t the one who created that specific car.

"Hey there, buddy," he cooed, petting the car's hood, "It's good to see that you're practising being gentle toward others. Now, you gotta promise me you'll be real good for your new family when they swing by, okay?" In response, the car beeped. "That's the ticket!"

Despite everything that he did, despite the hardships he went through to learn the basics of cars and the sleepless nights of studying in the quest to 'prove' he was a normal Addison like everyone else, Spamton knew it was worth every minute of struggling. Once the basics were figured out and a plan was formed, he built up a good team of experts around him, and Russell was the shining example of that.

The lanky, red-orange Addison with haphazard, spiked hair that fell forward and a casual black suit with an open jacket and a too-narrow black tie was standing awkwardly in the lobby when Spamton stepped through the doors. The moment he was spotted, Russell sped over.

"Mr Spamton, sir! Did you walk here??" Spamton grinned up at Russell, giving a playfully guilty shrug. His assistant was younger, but had shining potential for the future. His love and knowledge of cars was unmatched in the entire automobile sector. There was one day where the pair walked back to the office after a conference in a nearby venue. From the conference, all the way to Spamton's office, Russell had successfully told Spamton the entire history of the car from being a horse-driven carriage to an automatic vehicle without a single trip-up or many opportunities for him to catch his breath. It was honestly impressive and informative, looking back.

Russell should have been snapped up by one of their rivals long ago, but he kept refusing because he wanted to work in a business where the customer was treated with respect and integrity. That firm philosophy helped keep Spamton on the right track when times were difficult with the Benefactor. Easy sales were not worth losing the trust of the customer. The long-term goals needed to take priority over the short-term profit. The business would always stay honest that way.

Spamton casually approached, giving his assistant a lazy wave with his one working hand. "Hey, Russell. Long time no see. How have you been handling the day-to-day on your own?"

"T-this isn't about me! This is about you!!" Russell sputtered, shaking hands gesturing toward Spamton like it would somehow add further emphasis to his words, "Why are you here?? You nearly died! You should be in the hospital! I read the articles! You look terrible, sir! Uh, no offense."

"None taken. Deep breaths, Russell." In contrast, Spamton's hand followed a slow, calming motion to try and ground Russell before his panic kicked him into overdrive. "It's like you said: I 'nearly' died. I didn't. I hope the team behaved in my absence?"

Russell's posture slumped with a sigh. He knew Spamton well enough to recognise when his boss didn't want to talk about something. "Yeah… They've been great, sir. Do you need anything before we go in? I'm sure no one will mind if you need to sit down and have a coffee first. You look like the walk here tired you out."

"I'll be okay… Actually. No, that's a lie. I would perish without a coffee. Haven’t had one in nearly three days. I think that’s the longest I’ve lived without it since I was found." At least that got a smile out of his assistant as one of the secretaries hurried off. "You don't need to keep looking away from the sling. It looks worse than it is. I lost feeling in that arm, so we tied it up to keep it safe."

"Because of the electric shock, right?"

"Right. Which reminds me: I read that my accident impacted my ratings. Did it damage the business?"

Russell pulled up a screen to review a dotted graph. "No, sir. Your ratings unexpectedly plummeting two days ago did affect the stocks, but the news of your injury that same day quickly stabilised things again. I imagine confirmation that you are okay will help bolster things." 

"You know, I've never understood how the rating system worked. Why was it falling, and how did it know to stop when I was injured?" Spamton rubbed the side of his head.

"It really is a mystery, sir. Not even the Ratings Board could give us an explanation for it. They're as confused as you are."

That, at least, gave Spamton confirmation that his time with Tenna had improved his acting skills. "Oh well. There's no point dwelling on it. It didn't cause any damage to this place. That's what I wanna focus on. C'mon, we haven't long to figure this mess out." He passed the reception just in time to be handed a coffee. "Thank you. Russell, get the breakdown of stocks and sales for the last two months and six months and have them on standby."

This was his only chance. He couldn't screw this up.

At the head of the boardroom table, Spamton scanned the attendees that had been patient enough to wait for a Darkner who was the model example of someone who came back from the dead. The legal team were present, and there were representatives from the stakeholders, senior members of the team, and the executive board. There were enough here for Spamton to go through with his plan, especially now that he had that coffee with him. Russell had been completely correct when he commented on how Spamton looked worn out from a short walk.

Was he going to have to struggle with low stamina? Was this his new normal?

"Sir?" Russell leaned over and tapped him on the shoulder. "I sent those files to you. I also attached a copy of the statistics from the last quarterly report so you have them to hand."

"You're a genius, kid. Thanks." With a breath for grounding, Spamton rose to his feet to get everyone's attention. 

"Good morning. Thank you all for coming to this last-minute meeting. As I'm sure you all heard, I was recently in a work accident. The phone in my office blew while I was using it, electrocuting me in the process and paralysing my left arm that had been holding it." Spamton took a short pause to loosely gesture to the sling with his right hand. This delay also encouraged him to sit back down and not test his energy levels when he had barely started the plan. The last thing he needed was a dizzy spell. "I woke up last night, and I've had some time to think this morning. Recent events have taught me a very important lesson. I would like to verbally state my intention to step down and resign on medical grounds with immediate effect."

The moment the words came out of his mouth, the boardroom erupted into chaos. Voices shouted at him from all directions. He was the face of the brand! It couldn't function without him! This was going to ruin them all! What was he thinking? This was a crazy idea! He couldn't do this on a whim! What about the stocks? The upcoming internships?? 

Spamton lifted his hand to try and get attention back on him. "I will answer everything during this meeting, but you need to understand things from my perspective. As you all know, when you have an Addison fronting a business, their societal rating is crucial to ensure the success of the business. Mine is falling, only stopping because the news broke about my accident and it will continue to fall once things settle. 

"I'm not going to buffer the topic: this accident nearly killed me. It is a miracle I woke up at all. I'm able to get up and walk around today, but I suspect I'm going to be weak and in pain for the rest of the day. I currently don't have the energy to jump the hoops I used to. Regaining my rank will be impossible, and having a fallen Addison in charge of a well-known brand will signal bad news for everyone here. We all know the Addison superstitions about this sort of thing." That, at least, had some of the board nodding in agreement. "Yes, I can simply take prolonged medical leave in a gamble to buy myself time, but that leaves questions looming overhead. It'll make others focus on me, not the cars. But by resigning on medical grounds, I hope to lessen the impact of my falling rank while also issuing a statement to clear any misconceptions. I will not allow Big Shot Autos to be tarnished because of my inability to perform a safety check in my own office. I want the focus to remain on the cars, as it always is."

"So what of the business?" asked one of the executives. 

"I expect it to run exactly the same as it did yesterday. In my two month absence, the ratings have been consistent with the annual forecast. Because of this, I wish to appoint Russell as my successor. Anyone who knows him will know he was the real brains of the operation-"

The Addison of the moment jumped in his seat. "Wh-what?? Sir?? But I…"

"Russell, you don't need to be a copy of me," Spamton turned to his assistant, "In fact, that is the last thing you should be. I know that you being exactly who you are will keep this place going strong, maybe make it better than ever. And we have one of the finest teams in the city. You have plenty of support to help keep the show going. Your rank doesn't matter. Our brand thrived because of the cars, not me. Besides… You've basically been on a trial run for the last two months while I've been out of town, remember?" With a smile, he addressed the board. "This may be unexpected, but I expect all of you to help make this process as smooth and as efficient as possible. We have a lot of paperwork to sort out today, and I would like to have as much of this resolved as soon as possible."

He was going to leave it there, but he needed to sweeten the deal to ensure everyone was on his side. "The moment it is confirmed that I am 'healthy' enough to work, my ratings will drop and the stock value will plummet. Let's get through everything while folks think I'm on my death-bed, yeah? Save us all a few headaches."

The meeting continued for two hours without a break. The steps for allowing the seamless transfer of positions were laid out, the confirmation of Spamton's resignation along with all the fine details that came with that, and the road map for the next six months. He even drafted up a public statement for the company to use once it was reviewed and approved.

A lot was covered, but it was crucial to tick off as many things as possible, as fast as possible. Already, the phone wires wrapped around him were starting to loosen - but he wasn't finished. There was one more thing he needed to do.

"Russell? A moment?" Spamton nodded toward his office. "I want a chance to chat before I go. I don't plan to stay long."

Spamton's office was open and spacious, a far cry from the small offices that were more than suitable for the email Addison. The walls were painted white to make it bigger, emphasised by several floor-to-ceiling cabinets. This white expanse allowed the focus to be on all the photographs, awards, and other accolades. Huge windows served as bragging rights to show to the visitor what Spamton had dominion over.

In his heyday, his personality was enough to fill the space with ease. Now, Spamton could see that the space was empty and cavernous, ideal for how fake the pretense of him being the '#1 Rated Salesman' actually was. In comparison, the dressing room in the TV Studio that he had been in a few days ago was much more inviting and genuine. It was far smaller, but that was all he ever needed. For now, he crossed the expanse toward the plush armchair behind the large, cluttered desk.

"I'm sorry I put you on the spot like that, Russell. You remind me of who I used to be. If I had asked you privately, you would have refused." Stepping behind his desk, Spamton opened his inventory screen. His eyes scanned the desk, only to pause and lift to look at his assistant. "But you know I'm not going to disappear, right? I'll be an email away for anything you want to check with me."

Russell held a doubtful expression as he rubbed the side of his head. "You spoke like you had a script. Had you planned to step down before you left?"

"Not really. Sure, quitting was on the cards in the future, but I hadn't intended to do anything this soon. Nearly dying really changes your perspective on things…" Spamton eased himself into his chair. He could feel his energy dropping again - and this time, he had no coffee to help himself recover. Once he had taken a few slow breaths and collected himself, he returned to the matter at hand. "I put too much of myself into building this company. I don't think there's anything left for me to give anymore without risking my health further. After the events of this week, I want to go back to keeping the email servers ticking. It's a low-energy job. If I don't have the strength to get up, it won't matter. I want to quietly bow out of the world of advertisement before I am forcibly removed from it and drag others down with me. And anyway!" he gestured to the younger Addison, "Look at you! You're young! You've got potential and you're brimming with good ideas! Now's your chance to be the Big Shot! It's time you were able to take the full credit for them! This place is gonna do so well with you behind the wheel."

"... You really think so?" 

"Buddy, I know so. I've seen how much you've come on since you started here. I picked you to be my second-in-command for a reason! Your passion for cars is unmatched. You've helped give this place its reputation of being one of the most trustworthy in the industry! And now you can make your mark!" As he made this statement, he reached across the table to grab one of the photographs on the desk. The number of personal items had been kept to a minimum in this office, so the tidy-up wouldn't take long. "Everything is already in place. You don't need to worry about getting things established. Instead, you can have that dream of making Big Shot Autos - or whatever you want to rebrand it to - the best car enterprise in the whole City. There's no one else I trust with this place more than you. I'll get back in contact with you before I leave, whenever that will be, and there's nothing stopping me from coming here to talk face-to-face if you need help." He lifted another photograph, hesitating as it bumped off the desk telephone. It, too, was a black rotary model, much like -

Dread sunk in.

"There's a lot I'll need to show you anyway, but there’s something I want you to remember. Never accept deals from strangers over the phone. With a new face, folks are going to try to take advantage of you. Only discuss options in a face-to-face meeting with someone else on the team there with you. Nothing is going to be so important that it can't be scheduled. If they claim it's urgent and needs to be handled immediately or their offer is so good that it needs to be settled that day on that call, it's a scam. Got it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Just 'Spamton' is fine. I'm not your boss anymore." A drawer to the side was unlocked, and Spamton scooted his chair just enough to allow Russell to see what was inside. "Come over here. There's some important things I need to show you that I forgot about last time."

Spamton and Russell had relocated. Spamton had dragged the chair across the office to one of the cabinets so they could go through the internship programme that was due to start.

"Remember: it's best to keep the interns doing simple tasks for the early days. I always say to let them shadow a member of the team first. They can see how a day pans out and questions can be asked. It takes the pressure -"

There was a knock on the door.

The pair turned around.

One of the secretaries stood at the door. Her slender form looked like wires tied together, which only emphasised her nervous form.

"Um… M-Mr Spamton, sir? There's a rather furious Mr Tenna in the lobby…"

"Thank you, Mari,” Spamton turned back to the cabinet, only to pause. That wasn’t part of the plan. Why was he furious? “Say, what time is it?”

"It's quarter to three."

Spamton felt his entire body freeze. "Alright. Tell him I'll be there s-shortly." Once Mari left, Spamton rose out of the chair and turned to Russell. "I have to go. I promised Tenna I'd be home hours ago. Bytes, he's going to kill me... Like I said: if there's anything you want to check, if there's anything I can help with, shoot me an email. Don't be a stranger just because I'm retired from the business. Got it?"

"Got it. Thank you for believing in me, sir. Good luck with Mr Tenna."

Spamton peered through a crack in the door out to the lobby. True to Mari's word, Tenna was pacing back and forward with such speed that it was a miracle the floor didn't have a path worn into it. He had even increased in height, something that he tried to avoid doing in Cyber City.

"You've already died once this week. Twice won't be too bad," muttered Spamton before opening the door and stepping into the lobby.

The moment the sound of another shoe hitting the tiled floor rang out, Tenna whipped around with a screen red with fury.

"Hey Ant -"

"Don't you 'Hey Ant' me, Spamton!" Tenna stormed over and plucked him off the ground with a fistful of the back of the jacket's lapel like he was a kitten. The staff at reception shrank back at the anger directed at their boss, but Spamton simply smiled and waved at them as Tenna slammed the door open.

"I can't believe you. You promised it was a short meeting! Spamton, you promised you wouldn't be long! But no! You've been here for four hours!" Tenna's rant was loud as he stomped through the car park. Several Easy Cruise Cungaderos nervously stepped back as the pair passed. "You woke up last night. You shouldn't even be out of the bed! And you decide the smart thing is to go back to work??? Why did you lie to me??"

"I didn't lie. I wasn't working. I needed to meet with the board so I -"

"A meeting counts as work!!" Tenna's shout echoed across the car park. Any Darkners that had been outside debating their purchases ducked behind cars to avoid being spotted by the raging Dark World Ruler. "Stop lying! I asked your staff! You had a two hour meeting with no breaks, and then you went straight into your office to have another meeting with Russell!”

"I did that because -"

"And if I hadn't come to collect you?? You would still be in there! Is this what you think is a good way to start your recovery by going -"

"Ant!" Spamton's shout was barely loud enough to be heard over Tenna, "I quit!"

Tenna abruptly stopped walking. The anger had disappeared faster than someone could change the channel. Spamton was lowered to the ground. "... What?"

"I quit," he repeated, brushing down his jacket and adjusting the sling. "That's why I needed to look as sickly as possible. I needed the board to see just how bad I am and that I'm stepping down so I can focus on my health. I didn't want to tell you the plan in case it didn't work. Most of the details have been figured out. By tomorrow morning, Big Shot Autos won't be mine anymore. It'll belong to Russell." Spamton shifted his weight onto his left foot before resuming the walk. "I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to stay this long. I lost track of time trying to give Russell a crash course on stuff he needed to know that I hadn’t told him a few months ago. Probably will need to check in on him once more before we go."

"You… Hold on a moment." Overcome with confusion, Tenna hurried after Spamton once he returned to his Cyber City height. "This is what you spent years working toward. This place is your pride and joy. It's your dream!"

"Not quite," Spamton stopped at the gates, leaning against a pillar while taking in the sight of the entire property one last time as the owner. "It was like another child to me, and I was as proud of the success of Big Shot Autos as I am of my email servers. But I realise now it wasn't actually my dream. It was just my attempt to fit in in a world I never really belonged to. If anything, I feel like I've gained more than I lost today, you know?" With a smile, he reached over to lightly squeeze Tenna's hand. "But… Before we go back, can I make one more visit?"

"Snow…" Tenna pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Please? I need to apologise to Rose. I can't let the moment pass any longer than I have, and it needs to be done in-person. It's the least he deserves."

"No. You're starting to wilt, and Rose said he was stock taking today."

Instead of deterring Spamton, it only made him laugh. "That makes it even more ideal! He won't be interrupted by customers! I won't be long, I promise, and you can walk with me to keep me company!" Spamton turned sharply in the direction of the shopping districts. The action made the blood rush to his head as he staggered to the left. The world span around him. Only that Tenna had good reflexes to reach out, Spamton would have crashed to the ground.

"Snow, you're not going. Not yet. You need to rest first. You can't put your health second!" Both hands skillfully scooped Spamton up in a familiar hold. The Addison's sigh was heavy as he pressed his head against Tenna's shoulder. The wave of light-headedness was strong.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, "I just… I miss him, Tens. I miss my brother. I miss being a brother…"

"I know you do, but he wouldn't want to see you like this. You need a break first."

"Ant, please. I wanna…"

"Rest. Please. I'm scared you're going to make yourself sick."

Spamton's head pressed harder against Tenna's shoulder. A murmured apology was all he could muster the energy to do.

Chapter Text

Tenna loved Spamton. That was something that was clear as day to anyone who knew the couple. However, in moments like this, he wanted to shake some common sense into his partner.

Neither of them were role models in showcasing a healthy work-life balance, but at least Tenna had the excuse of his schedule being somewhat erratic as a family TV. Ever since he became a Big Shot, Spamton frequently worked himself to exhaustion. This action of Tenna holding Spamton in both arms, cradled against his chest with the head against his shoulder, was almost like a routine of its own. The Studio staff would frequently watch their boss fuming while carrying Spamton back to their condo to sleep. Normally, it would be paired with Spamton either trying to defend himself in an argument, or talking to distract Tenna from starting said argument.

This time, he had fallen asleep shortly after Tenna picked him up. Even if he had accidentally lost track of time, Spamton was still pushing himself beyond his limits. He was supposed to rest and heal!

Tenna could feel his antennae spark with frustration with every step on the walk back. The anger that he had felt when he discovered his partner was still working was back in full force, surging as he charged through the Mansion back to the suite. Spamton was being ridiculous with all of this! He was trying to act like nothing was wrong with him, and that he wasn't running a weakened body! Tenna knew Spamton had one day decided that he would approach his problems by burying them and shifting the blame elsewhere, but this was something he shouldn't do that for! What if he became sick? What if he did something that was irreversible because he pretended everything was fine?

But, as he set out the late lunch for the pair with one hand while carrying Spamton with the other, Tenna did begrudgingly acknowledge that Spamton was trying to give others peace of mind. It didn't excuse the reckless nature of the actions, but it did help lessen the anger.

He carefully positioned Spamton on the kitchen chair, but the Addison didn't stir. Tenna's hands cautiously pulled back, only to surge forward to catch the body as Spamton toppled over. This was bad if he was too exhausted to even acknowledge that he was sitting. 

Looking around, Tenna tried to figure out what could be done to help Spamton rest while also making sure he had something to eat, when he spied the couch. Both the Addison and his meal were relocated there. Spamton was propped up with pillows from the bedroom so he wasn't lying fully flat, and this movement finally stirred him. Half-lidded eyes took in the sight of Tenna kneeling on the floor with a plate in one hand, breaking a portion of food up with a fork.

"... 'msorry…"

"It's alright. This is still an adjustment for both of us. Are you able to eat?"

Spamton nodded. Tenna set to work slowly feeding him, mindful to wait and make sure Spamton was okay before continuing. He could see the way Spamton couldn't hold eye contact, too filled with shame to try and even pretend he had the strength to hold conversation, or that he hadn't passed out shortly after leaving the dealership. Not only that, Spamton's energy began to wane. They had barely worked through half of the meal before the Addison's eyelids drifted closed and his head fell back against the pillow.

Tenna decided against waking him. Instead, he pulled off his coat and draped it over Spamton as a makeshift blanket. He wouldn't let frustration get the better of him when Spamton was only figuring out his new limits. It was easy for Tenna to decide what should and should not be done. Spamton was the one that had to learn to adjust to any changes. All Tenna could do was hope that Spamton would learn to accept them until he began to slowly improve. It would take time, and it was up to Tenna to make sure that this wasn't rushed.

An hour passed.

After eating his own lunch, Tenna took advantage of the quiet to book a doctor's appointment for midday the next day, and began making plans for dinner based on the ingredients that had been left in the apartment on his request.

As he finished writing the shopping list for the last pieces he needed, Spamton abruptly woke with a gasp.

"Fuck!"

Tenna dropped the pencil and raced over. "Are you alright?"

"No!" Spamton was scrambling to pull Tenna's coat off him. "I didn't mean to fall asleep! I wanted to talk to Rose!"

"Hey, hey…" A hand reached out to gently cup Spamton's cheek, stopping the frenzy in its tracks. "It's alright. It's only half past four. There's still time. I would have woken you shortly anyway. I'm glad you slept - you needed that rest. How are you feeling?"

"... Better. But still shitty. I don't want to be this useless."

"That's alright. You need some time to recover. It won't be like this forever. We'll just need to make sure you take more commercial breaks than usual, that's all. Don't be so hard on yourself."

At last, a hint of a smile appeared on Spamton's face. He pressed his cheek against Tenna's hand. "Yeah, you're right..."

"Now, are you sure you're going to be alright?"

"I need to do this by myself. You being there might make him think you forced me to go." Spamton dug his hand into the pocket of his heavy coat. It was large enough to cover the sling and keep eyes off the salesman. "Plus, if they've been stock-taking all day, Rose won't want to be distracted for too long. New stock gives inspiration for new outfit combinations and designs."

"Remember: be back by seven. Give yourself enough time to walk back, and call me if you don't think you can manage the walk. I can come collect you."

"I'll be fine. See you at seven. Love you."

"Love you too"

With a kiss on the cheek, Spamton was left alone.

The main commerical area of Cyber City was one large street that was split in two by Main Street. The East Shopping District was dedicated to everyday goods: groceries, digital supplies, hobby equipment, among other things. The West Shopping District was the side that was dedicated to gifts, houseware, appliances, hobby stores, and high quality goods. Cafés and restaurants were dotted through both sides. Though the Cyber Boutique was classed as a 'luxury' fashion store and was located in the West Shopping District, they had a wide range to appeal to any budget - the love of wanting Darkners to wear good clothes overruled the urge for making profit. 

The street had its usual hum of busyness, reminiscent of the first time Spamton had walked down this street many years ago. On that day, he had no sense of self. He was simply 'White'. It had been a tumultuous series of events: from exploring the street in awe in what he believed would be the only time he would ever see it alive during the work day, to undertaking a walk of shame as the local Addisons assumed him to be spyware, to accidentally catching the attention of the Darkner who was coded to be his brother. Rose had helped him figure out who he was, and even had the coding to tell Spamton what his actual name was - 'Snow'.

He stopped walking when he reached one of the display windows of the Cyber Boutique. This was his second home, his safe haven, his familiar retreat. The Boutique was always there, for good days and bad days alike.

This was the place that helped him develop his social skills, practice interacting with customers, and learn how to be an Addison that could live and think for himself rather than be stuck on automatic. It was where he could 'rent' a small room in the back as an office and be granted the luxury of stepping out and being welcomed by a brother and friends who cared for him so much.

No matter what obstacle faced Snow, Rose was right there by his side.

… And how did Spamton repay that kindness?

Spamton shook his head and approached the doors. An orange 'Closed!' sign hung on the glass, but Spamton still had his key safe in his inventory. He unlocked the door and stepped inside.

The interior of the Boutique was exactly how he remembered it, only with different stock for the current fashion season. The store was still bright and welcoming, the lights drew the eye to different beautifully dressed mannequins. Even the smell was the same. It would be easy for Spamton to close his eyes and pretend that he had gone back in time to when he was just Snow, the ordinary email Addison with no impossible dreams, no unfair pressures making him question his very being. But it was time to look ahead and make a better future.

"I'm sorry. We are actually closed today for…" A pink Addison had hurried toward the door, only to stop in his tracks when he saw who the 'customer' was.

"Hi, Rose."

"Snow. You… Y-you're alive."

"I am." Spamton unbuttoned the coat and shrugged it off. It was hung up beside the door. "I know you're busy but… Can we talk for a few minutes? Please?"

Instead of the consultation booth on the right-hand side, Rose led Spamton into the break room on the opposite side of the store and offered him a chair. The brothers sat awkwardly in silence for a few moments as they both tried to determine how best to break the ice between them.

It was Spamton that spoke first. "I woke up in the middle of the night. When I stepped out of the bedroom and into the kitchen this morning, one of the first things I saw was a bag with orange soda and a keyboard cookie. I know that must have been from you. There's no one else who would have thought to get that cookie. If someone had asked me what you would have done if I had nearly died, I would have guessed you would have done nothing. But… You visited." The white Addison took in the simple surroundings of the break room. "Last time I was in the Boutique, you told me that I wasn't allowed to come back until I got my head out of my ass. You wouldn't talk to me until I sorted out my priorities. It shouldn't have taken me this long to give you the closure you deserve." He took a slow, deep breath.

"Rose, I'm sorry. For everything. You only ever wanted what was best for me, and I kept fucking it up. Yes, I did steal those contacts from the Boutique. Yes, I sold them in the Dark Alleys. It wasn't my choice but I still did it, and I still denied it instead of admitting that I nearly destroyed your entire life's work. I kept lying because I-I didn't want anyone to be hurt because I disobeyed. But after everything I did, I still put you in danger a few days ago."

"What do you mean? Nothing happened." Rose remembered Tenna talking about this, but he wanted to be certain. He wouldn't put it past Tenna to tell a tall tale.

"I broke one of my rules with my Benefactor. I wasn't to be employed by anyone else. As punishment… They were going to kill you unless I came back."

"Why didn't you ask me for help? You were in trouble. I could have helped you. We all could have! There would have been a way to get you out of that trap."

Spamton lowered his head. "I was told that telling the truth to anyone would have serious consequences. When I refused an order, I was threatened, then I was hurt if I refused again. I didn't want anyone else to suffer because of me. I was scared. I didn't want you to die because of my mistakes." His hand tightened its grip on his knee. "I had no idea what to do, but I knew I couldn't talk to anyone about it. That's why I pushed everyone away. I thought that if I was alone, then maybe… I could still save everyone. Everyone would be okay if I had no ties."

Rose's eyes widened. Tenna's hunch had been correct. Everything had been true.

"Rose… I know we can't have the bond we used to have. You deserved someone better to be a wonderful brother to, and I wish that someone else had been given this eye colour instead of me. What I did was so wrong, and you should rightfully hate me. And it's fine for me to leave like we are strang-"

"What are you talking about?" the cobbler interrupted, "You're my brother. I love you. You aren't your Thorn Ring, remember? I'm not going to throw that away now that you're here, and especially not after how I almost lost you forever." The blunt words brought the tears that had wanted to form that morning to Spamton's eyes. "Yes, I'm still angry at you for what you did, and for the rumours of other scams you pulled. Yes, I think you're an idiot for doubling down on the lies instead of being honest and asking for help… But I don't hate you. I could never hate you. I want you to be in my life. That's why I wanted to go see you as soon as I was able to. I don't want to lose you."

"But I -" Whatever was on Spamton's mind was cut off as Rose pulled him into a hug. Suddenly, Spamton felt like the lost, uncertain Addison he used to be as he sank into the embrace with one arm and a broken composure. "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry, Rose…"

"It's okay, you're okay… Come on, you're gonna make me cry too if you keep blubbering apologies like this."

Spamton sniffed. "Sorry…"

"Snow." Rose's scold was light hearted as he ruffled the white Addison's dyed hair. In return, Spamton nestled in closer. He didn't want his brother to let go.

The pair stayed like that for some time, letting the reality of them being reunited sink in. Spamton knew he couldn't stay like this all afternoon, not when Rose had to go back to work and Spamton wanted to keep his promise to Tenna. When he spoke, it was into Rose's shoulder.

"Hey… Remember you used to talk about your plans for the Grand Boutique?"

"Yeah?"

"I finally figured out how I can properly help you make it happen. I quit my job in Big Shot Autos this morning, and I was told I'm due some sort of lump sum. I had it arranged with the lawyers that the money would go straight to you."

"Hold on, what??" Rose pulled back, gripping both of Spamton's shoulders. "Snow, what?? You can't do that!"

"Too late. It's all been signed. I don't know how much Tenna told you about what happened to me the other day, but I don't want to stay here anymore. I like who I am in TV World. I'm a better me. I don't need to worry about ratings or sales or what I should or shouldn't be doing. I can run the emails from the Studio. There's a good internet connection. And I'll still come back and visit you whenever I can! I want to be here to see the opening of the Grand Boutique one day."

"You… You really mean all of this, don't you?" Rose finally let go and dropped back into his seat in disbelief. "You really are yourself again."

"I don't think so… I won't magically turn back into who I used to be, but I can work to make myself someone he'd be proud of. He was always happiest when he could just be himself without any expectations to be someone he isn't." Spamton, too, slouched into his chair. "But I can't do any of that without knowing that you're on my side, and that you don't hate me for what I did -"

"I don't."

“- But I need to be sure. Rose, you’re my brother and my best friend. That’ll never change. I will never forgive myself for being so stupid. I should have just listened to you when shit starting going wrong." His hand reached up to grab a fistful of his hair. "Who cares what other Addisons think? Who cares about being a Big Shot? Who cares?! I never should have let myself become obsessed with proving myself to Addisons who never liked me at all! I lost everything in this stupid quest. I nearly died! What if I had died? What if I had been corrupted and taken over?” He yanked his hair to try and stop that train of thought, only for the tension to drop. He slumped forward. “But if I’d known you would be safe, I would have gladly died in my office that day."

"Snow -"

"They threatened to kill you if I didn't come back to the city. I don't know whether they actually could, or whether it was only me they could hurt, but I didn't want to take that chance. If it was me who took the hit instead, then it wouldn't matter. No one would care if I died. Maybe they would have been hap-"

Rose reached out and firmly squeezed Spamton's right shoulder. "If you think for a second that I would have been happy to hear you died… Snow, I missed you. I wanted nothing more than to strangle that caller for what they did to you. But if what Tenna said was right, then that means you're free. You get a new start, and you get to choose the life you want. I wouldn't want you to stay here when your heart is in that Studio."

Spamton's head lowered. "He could have let me die. He should have let me die, but he didn't. He stayed, he's been keeping an eye on me. He's even buying food so he can cook us dinner. I don't deserve it."

"If anything, he doesn't deserve it after what he started." 

"I could blame a lot of Darkners for what happened to me. I'd rather not think about that yet. I don't have the strength to be angry. But… Are you in a rush to go back to work?"

Rose folded his arms with a frown. "Depends on what you have in mind."

"Would you have time to make a small alteration for me?" Rose tilted his head to examine the shoes. Instead, Spamton pulled up his inventory and retrieved a small, pink shoe-shaped box. A glance was thrown to the time that appeared in the top corner, confirming that he was still within the limit.

Rose's eyebrows furrowed at the sight. "How do you have that? You haven't been here since I extended my range into accepting jewellery commissions - wait a minute.” He snatched the box and opened it. A large, golden ring greeted him.

“I KNEW it had to be you that ordered that ring, not that SaveDisk! The measurements were too strange for a normal Darkner! Oh Motherboard, you’re finally going to propose!!” Hopping out of the chair, Rose bolted out of the door.

"Rose, NO! Get back here!"

Rose sped across the store floor, passing his tailor partner along the way. To the confusion of Solas, the orange Addison, Spamton was in hot pursuit, like they had all gone back to simpler times. Once the cobbler made it to his slightly elevated work station near the back, he dropped into his chair and spun to face Spamton with a grin tinted with mischief. “I quite like the design of this, you know. But what are you thinking?”

Spamton screeched to a halt, his panic replaced with wariness as Rose examined the ring. “Well… You see how there’s the outlines of two stars? Is it possible to turn them silver?” 

“Yeah, that’s an easy one. I can quickly paint over them for you. As payment, you must tell me about how you're going to propose.” He snapped his fingers, and a mini furnace came to life. “Have you anything booked? Any plans?”

“Plans?" Spamton shuffled awkwardly from one foot to the other, feeling more like his younger self as he tried to put scattered thoughts into words. "I don’t know. I didn’t really have any ideas. He makes me want to think about a future; about having kids together, if he wants…" He sighed, "I don’t know. The day everything went wrong, I was thinking about just asking him after work."

Rose, who had been in the middle of putting on safety equipment, stopped and stared at his brother with a deadpan expression. “Snow. You can’t be serious.”

“What? Tenna’s whole life is theatrics and big performances. I don’t want this to be something like that with how little energy I have today. It's going to take ages for me to rebuild my stamina to what it used to be. I don't want to wait any longer."

“But you can’t treat it like you’re asking if he wants to borrow a CD. This is life-changing! If you’re going to just ask him, think about why you want to spend the rest of your life with him. Why do you want that?” Special metal tongs lifted a small container of melted silver out of the furnace and onto an iron stand. From here, it would be easy for him to begin ‘painting’ the ring.

Spamton sighed. “Where do I even start? I don’t want to spend the rest of my life without him. He wanted me when I was a nobody. He makes me laugh, he makes me feel special and wanted. I like waking up next to him in the morning. And that day… He forced me to sign a contract that kick-started everything. But when he realised what he did, he changed his tune. He saved my life. He fought to protect me. He found a way to rescue me out of Hell. If he wasn’t there, I wouldn’t be here. He stopped the foreign program from doing…” Trailing off, he swallowed nervously. “I-I kept seeing visions of myself as a toy wooden puppet. If I answered the phone one more time, I don’t even know what would have happened. It would have been bad. Really bad. But Ant stopped it. And he did it without a second thought. He put me before everything else. He’s my Heaven.” 

Rose looked up from his work to give Spamton a knowing smile. “That’s love, little bro.”

“And that’s why… I don’t know how I could try and put it into words.”

“They say actions speak louder than words, and some Darkner theorise that Addisons have design elements from birds in order to make ourselves seem more appealing to customers. Maybe you could test that and perform a mating date when you built a nest. Oh! Maybe you can form a tail and wings that you could woo him with!”

“You should be so lucky that you’re holding molten silver and that I’ve only got one working hand.”

Rose cackled as he applied the final touches. “Seriously though. What you said to me is exactly what you need to work with. A proposal needs to come from the heart. It’s not a business deal. You want to be honest and emotional. Love is something that is impossible to define simply. Like a ring, it isn't 'one size fits all'. It’s what feels right for the two of you.” Rose stood up and dropped the engagement ring into a metal bowl filled with cold water. 

The silence of Spamton reflecting was broken only by the sizzling of the rapidly cooling metal.

“… What if he says no?”

“He won’t. He didn’t leave that apartment while you were unconscious. He minded you, by himself, the whole time. I brought the orange soda because he asked for it and said you talked about it. When I was able to go in and see you, he had one of your colouring books on the bed. I don’t think he would want a life without you either.” Rose lifted a finger. The ring floated out of the water, spun in the air to dry off, and landed neatly on the palm of his hand. “And it’s like you said: he saved you. That means he must tolerate you, at least a little.”

“True,” Spamton conceded with a chuckle.

“Just be yourself, Snow. That’s all you need to do. If you want the proposal to be just the two of you, then don’t force it. You’ll know the right moment when it appears. The shoe will fit perfectly."

“Okay… Thank you, Rose. I mean it.”

“By the way…" Rose hesitated returning the boxed ring to its owner, "You are going to come back and see me before you leave, right? I want to hear how it goes, and I know the others would like a chance to catch up - if not now, then some other time. We’ve all been worried about you, even if we were hurt and angry by what you did. I’ve missed you, Snow.”

“I've missed you too, Rose. And anyway! I have to come back. If he says yes, you’re my best man.”

By the time Spamton returned to Tenna's suite on time, Tenna had just finished setting the table. The host turned and smiled.

"Welcome back, Snowdrop. Your timing is perfect. How did it go?"

"It went really well. He doesn't hate me, and… I've given him the lump sum from resigning so he can expand the business like he always wanted to. I feel so light, like a weight has been lifted." Spamton put his hand on his chest, as though trying to feel that absence.

"Carrying that hate and anger can be burdensome," Tenna agreed. "I'm so happy to hear that it went well. Tell me everything!"

With more energy compared to when he struggled to eat lunch, Spamton was able to sit at the table with Tenna and give a proper run-down of the full day's events over dinner - minus the conversation with Rose about the proposal. He admitted that he was an idiot for pushing himself too much on his first day awake, but saving the business and reaching out to his brother were two things that needed to be prioritised. They needed to be resolved immediately, and Spamton could dedicate himself fully to his recovery. Tenna's relieved laugh at this declaration earned him a light shove from the Addison.

In turn, Tenna shared the events that transpired during his shopping excursion: how he nearly tried to pay in Points, catching glimpse of a white dog speeding down the aisle with a cash register in its mouth, how he had reserved a table for them in the popular Monitor Restaurant for eight o’clock tomorrow evening, and how he single-handedly outsmarted a group of Virovirokun by donning his Doctor Tennaville persona on his way back. He also admitted how he had a short nap while food was cooking in the oven. It wasn't just Spamton who had overestimated his energy levels today.

That realisation stayed with Spamton, but he didn't know what to do with it until the pair were cleaning up afterward.

"Ant? What was that movie you wanted to watch last week?"

"Three Minutes to Sundown?"

"Yeah. Can we watch it when we finish tidying?"

Tenna paused to look at Spamton with a bewildered expression. "But you said you didn't want to waste your time watching cowboy movies."

"I changed my mind. I want to waste my time watching cowboy movies." He smiled, and Tenna's screen brightened in excitement. 

"I think you'll like it. It isn't as jam-packed with clichés like other ones I tried to show you. It's a much better example of a good cowboy movie. There's plenty of action, an interesting story, and well-rounded characters." There was a pause to pass Spamton the salt container to put away. "Not only that, it was all filmed on location - no need for movie magic here!"

"Okay, but are there horses?"

"So many horses."

"Nice."

The pair settled on the couch and set the movie playing. It didn't matter whether it was slightly cheesy, or that the acting was a little dated, Tenna loved it… And that, in turn, made Spamton appreciate it a little more each time a little feature or moment was pointed out to him.

As Tenna wrapped an arm around Spamton to pull him closer, the Addison realised that he really did want to live like this for the rest of his life. The need to propose to Tenna was strong… But how? When?

All he knew was that it wouldn't be right now. They were both too tired for another round of strong emotions.

Chapter Text

One upside to this unexpected trip was that neither Spamton nor Tenna were here on business. There were no alarms set, no strict schedules that needed to be followed, no staff knocking on the door to check in on them. Now that Spamton was beyond the worst part, there was peace at last.

When Tenna stirred, it was shortly after nine. He was lying on his back, with Spamton curled up against him. The Addison was fast asleep, with his head against Tenna's shoulder and the right arm draped across his stomach.

It was a familiar scene to the night that started this whole mess.

This time, Tenna had no desire to move. He was content to relax and simply enjoy the presence of his partner, relaxed and sleeping peacefully. It was a pleasant surprise, as Tenna had been convinced that Spamton would have woken from nightmares. Instead, there was nothing but the steady rhythm of his soft breathing. No phone calls, no recordings, no performances. 

Just Tenna. Just Spamton.

This was what mattered most. He would still need to return to TV World and figure out how to prevent his future from being destroyed, but that could wait for a little longer. Right now, his attention was on holding close to what he almost lost forever. His Lightners meant everything to him, that hadn’t changed. Potentially facing that future where he can’t entertain them filled him with dread if he thought about it for too long. But that hadn’t happened yet, if it ever would, and he needed to understand that. The future hadn’t happened yet, and if he obsessed over it for too long, everything important would be lost in the past. He needed to learn how to appreciate the present instead of seeing it as a prelude to a destroyed future. 

The present made one thing crystal clear: Tenna loved Spamton. Those days without him were a torture. He felt so useless, so empty, so miserable. A part of him had vanished during that time - and that was the life he was supposed to lead by not chasing Spamton in the first place? What a waste of an existence! With Spamton, it was like Tenna's display had been set to have better saturation. The world felt more colourful and alive. There was beauty shining in that pretty Addison's eyes.

Yes, this was what mattered to him. His little family, as odd as it might be, was special. And maybe, when things settle…

Tenna shook his head. It wouldn't be fair to ask about kids when Spamton was still recovering. This wasn’t the first time Tenna had put the thought aside. Normally, Spamton was too stressed or agitated to consider life beyond that week, let alone the future as a whole. But if most of that pressure came from the Benefactor, and Spamton was no longer chasing that high rank, would that mean that the topic of starting a family could be raised? Perhaps it was something to consider once everything settled, and this served as a compromise as Tenna allowed himself the luxury to slip into the little daydream of imagining what that child might look like. They would likely be more Addison if there wasn't a new piece of hardware in the household or a new station installed by the broadcaster, but would they have any TV features? A little pair of antennae would be adorable! What if they had the colour of his lilac frame instead of Spamton’s white? Or maybe they would have a TV head, but have eyes like Spamton’s. There were countless possibilities!

Then again, Tenna mused as his body relaxed, the most important thing was not their looks, but the hope that their child would be happy. And with Spamton there, laughter would be a common feature in that household.

Sleep had come surprisingly easy to Spamton once the pair had settled in bed after watching the movie. There were no dreams or memories playing in his mind. His eyes opened slowly, and he felt more well-rested than he had in some time. Without a functioning left arm, he was forced to put all his weight on his left hip to give himself the momentum to lift himself up and adjust his right hand’s hold to pull himself onto Tenna’s body. Somehow, this didn’t catch the host’s attention, allowing Spamton to see what was on the screen.

If Tenna was asleep, his screen would either be off or would have flickered to a random channel on zero volume. This time, the screen was muted, clueing Spamton into the fact that Tenna was awake, but daydreaming. On the screen was an episode from a show Spamton didn’t recognise, but there was strong focus on an adult with a baby.

... A parent and a child?

It was a poorly kept secret in the Studio that Tenna wanted to be a parent - a Darkner only needed to watch how he interacted with Angel for five minutes to see it in full swing! It brought to mind the fact that he had just told Rose about wanting to start a family with Tenna. For Tenna to be considering something like that after everything that happened this week…

He knew Spamton was a crook of some sort, and he was going to be told the truth once Spamton was ready to talk. Would Tenna still want that? Would he finally see sense and kick the Addison out on the curb? Or… Would Tenna wonder whether something like that even mattered when Spamton was trying to prove himself to be a better Darkner than he was before?

He needed to take his mind off that dark path before he made himself miserable, and so Spamton heaved himself up again. This time, he positioned himself to lay higher on Tenna's chest. The shift in pressure was enough to cut the feed and make the face reappear. The volume was unmuted.

"Ah. Good morning, Spamton."

"Good morning, Tenna..." Spamton pushed up to capture Tenna's lips in a kiss. From here, he could murmur "I love you".

The words were enough to spur Tenna on to return the kiss. One hand lowered to rest on Spamton's back, while the other settled in his hair, uncaring as to whether the grip made the bedhead worse. The need to hold Spamton was stronger.

They stayed close. Each of them was equally stubborn to take as short a breath as possible in between kisses to prolong every moment together, every second shared in the other's company. It was as though the first kiss reminded them of how they needed to make up for lost time. Both suffered from a withdrawal that had slipped right under the radar until they were lost in the taste of the other's lips.

"Heaven... I love you so much…" Spamton's voice was barely a whisper against the host's lips, "I could stay like this… All day." It was hard to share a full sentence when all he wanted was to keep kissing his boyfriend.

Fortunately, Tenna did not object to this plan, if the way his hand in Spamton's hair tightened was any indication. It was the closest to a warning Spamton got before his head was pushed closer by Tenna to deepen the kiss.

Eventually, Spamton was the one who had to reluctantly pull back for a proper breath of air, but his lips refused to stray too far from Tenna's body as he began leaving a trail of soft kisses. Down the frame, underneath it, along the neck, until he stopped at a spot that made Tenna shudder. He smirked as he set to work leaving kisses in that area, until Tenna's hand yanked his hair and pulled him back before he could leave any sort of mark.

"I-I-I think we should be focusing on getting ready this morning, wouldn't you agree?" 

Spamton leaned forward to kiss him again, relishing how Tenna's warm screen grew more colourful with a blush. "I would like to disagree, actually, but I think you won't approve of me missing this appointment..." Then, with a dramatic sigh, he made a show of reluctantly rolling off Tenna and landing back on the bed. "Even if this appointment between us is long overdue…"

For good measure, Tenna dropped a pillow on Spamton's face.

After a lazy breakfast and an awkward, one-handed shower, Spamton sat in the bedroom wearing a white shirt and jeans as he towel-dried his hair. The grey sweater to finish the outfit off was draped over a nearby chair to claim once he was ready to go. Sitting in silence meant that he could hear snippets of conversation from the main living space. He had heard the phone while he was finishing up in the bathroom. To his relief, the sound of the dialtone didn't bring any sort of reaction to his mind or his body. He didn't panic, nor did anything tense in fear. He really was okay, and Tenna could check in with the Studio Crew in peace.

Spamton tilted his head slightly to better eavesdrop on the conversation in the main living space. The star sounded more like his jubilant self, with how his voice bounced with passion and joy for his work. If Spamton stopped what he was doing, he could pretend that they were simply on vacation rather than on the recovery phase of a traumatic event. 

Then again, what part of that meant they couldn't treat this as a vacation? Spamton's only job was moderating the email servers now, and that was easy work to supervise. Tenna wasn't here for performances or interviews. They could simply be a couple. They could relax and unwind once the doctor's appointment finished.

"Spam?" Spamton blinked. Tenna was crouched in front of him, frowning. When did he step into the bedroom? "Are you alright?"

"Yeah! All great. Can I take you out for lunch to the Color Café? I know we're going out for dinner tonight but… Why not make the most of the day?"

Tenna chuckled. "How can I refuse such an offer? But it will have to be after your appointment." He lifted the towel and began drying Spamton's hair.

"Then we make it a double feature. A date to the doctor, followed by a date to the Café!”

"Well, well, if it isn't Mr Miracle himself!" Geepev's voice was upbeat as the pair entered the clinic. "Wakes up after a near-death experience through hacking, and you spend the first day awake working."

"Quitting, if you must know," Spamton playfully corrected, "but I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you and Norta risking everything for me. Thank you for bringing me back from the brink." He followed Norta to sit on the examination table.

While Norta set up the scans, Geepev asked a quickfire round of questions while working through a standard medical check-up. How he was feeling, his energy levels after various activities during the previous day, and questions about his appetite were covered. His stamina would remain low, but it was anticipated that Spamton would be able to gradually build it up so that he could function for a full day without napping. Until then, he would need to accept his limits and take frequent breaks from whatever he was doing, even if it wasn't anything particularly demanding.

Then, when Geepev and Tenna stepped out for a conversation, the scan began.

"The code wasn't a generic one," said Norta, "how was it installed?"

"I didn't realise it was there. I had… Gotten caught up in a shady deal, let's just say. I was offered help in exchange for completing some jobs, and I agreed. Shortly after that, I began hearing voices in my head." Something that Spamton certainly didn't miss.

"What sort of voices?"

"Garbled voices. Whispers that had little meaning. I called it bloatware. When they were loud, it was impossible to focus on what I wanted to think about. If I refused the orders given to me on the phone, they would grow louder. That was my first warning." Spamton's right hand idly rubbed his left arm. "If I refused again, I would briefly lose control of my right hand and, eventually, the rest of my body. Then, if I refused again… I was put into a trance and the job would be finished when I woke up. Sometimes there would be injuries, for good measure, I suppose."

"A trance?"

"It's hard to explain when I don't have it on me. The item I was created with… It hazes the wearer's mind to the point where they barely hold a thought of their own. When I was forced to wear it, it would make it easier for someone else to tell me what to do."

Norta winced in sympathy as she tapped a screen. "I see why you were always cagey about talking about it in interviews. But if that's the case, it would explain why the external file wasn't fully embedded. That 'trance' must have covered the gap instead."

Spamton sighed. "That might be the first piece of good luck that ring has given me in my entire life."

While the scan was underway, Spamton's mind was racing about the invasive file and the potential consequences of it.

"Norta? I think answering the phone that day would have finished installing the file."

"Pardon?" Norta peered around the screen.

"The deal I made required the phone. That’s how they first reached out to me. The day of the incident, I refused to answer. It kick-started everything. I saw visions of myself as a puppet, but I refused. After that, I lost control of my body and I blacked out. They took control of me and tried to force me to answer it… If Tenna hadn't been there, I would have been a dead toy."

"Or you would have been a vessel completely under their control."

Spamton's expression dropped. "God… I didn't even think of that."

After the test came through clear, Geepev and Tenna returned. The doctor examined the left arm to investigate what was wrong. To Spamton's relief, the arm was simply disconnected, not paralysed. Feeling would eventually return, but it could take a few weeks to regain full control as nerves worked on re-establishing connections. A round of healing was given to help ease the strain and clear the cuts on his back.

Finally, he was given a list of exercises and treatments he would work through to help build the strength back up in his shoulder once he can move it. Until then, he was advised to keep it in a sling when out of the house. 

"Actually. Before you two go," Geepev approached, handing Tenna a slip of paper. "Following what we were talking about… Exercises and practices for you to complete until you are back in your own Dark World to prevent the development of petrification. But I think if you are departing in the next day or two, you should be fine.”

Tenna hesitated before taking the page. "Thank you, Doctor. I'll be sure to keep that in mind..."

The walk back to the Mansion was quiet. Spamton had expected Tenna to ask about how the appointment went. Instead, he kept his head down, reading the page Geepev gave him. 

Guilt pricked at Spamton. They had been so focused on what happened to him that neither of them had fully considered the very real possibility of Tenna starting to petrify from staying in Cyber City for too long.

"Hey.” He gently bumped against Tenna to get the host's attention, "I don't know about you, but I'm starting to get a little homesick. I've been given the all-clear on the condition of resting so…. Wanna go home tomorrow?"

The question hung in the air for a few moments. When Tenna did finally react, there was a quiet, resigned laugh. "Home… I don't know why, but I'm still so afraid that you're going to leave. You don't have to travel back if you don't want to."

"But what if I do want to?"

"What if you petrify?"

"I didn't when I was there for two months. I'll be alright, promise." Spamton's response did little to ease the worry etched on Tenna's screen. "Hey. I mean it. I only need the internet, remember?"

"I remember…"

"And you know what else I need?"

"What?"

A hand slipped into the host's larger one. "This. Us."

Tenna snorted. "You're so corny."

"I'm a one of a kind special deal. No one else gets an offer like this." Quickening his pace, Spamton tugged Tenna after him. "You and me, Ant! The Dream Team of the century. That's the way it's always gonna be! Top-rate billings at the prime-time slots. Billboards right in the heart of the city! That's you! That's me! That's us! And once we're back in the Studio, the crew aren't gonna know what hit 'em now that I won't be shackled to that damn phone all day!" With a cackle, he yanked Tenna into Color Café.

True to its name, the Color Café was a burst of colour the moment the pair stepped inside. Though the choice of shades were bright, it still exuded elegance and warmth to invite patrons in. Instead of a Swatchling, it was Swatch who greeted them at the waiting spot.

"I thought I heard your voice from halfway across the city, Mr Spamton," the head butler greeted with a bow.

"You know me too well, Swatch. Gotta make sure everyone knows who is about to burst through the door. Any chance we could get a table with no reservation?"

"Of course. The lunch rush has just finished. You shall be able to dine without interruption. Please, follow me." Swatch turned and swiftly led the pair over to a booth in a quiet corner of the Café. By the time the two had slipped into opposite sides of the booth, Swatch had disappeared, leaving only the menus behind.

"I wonder whether you quitting will have you tone down that boisterous persona you crafted in your quest to be a Big Shot?" Tenna's innocent musing had the Addison's eyes widen in surprise.

"Boisterous…? Was it really that bad?" 

"What? No, no! That wasn't what I meant!" Tenna reached forward and rested his hand over Spamton's. "I love how you have found the confidence to speak out like that, but it would be a lie to say I don't enjoy when you feel comfortable enough to be yourself, as you are, without feeling like you have to act a certain way to impress me. I like you."

"You do???" Spamton let out a gasp. "G-gosh... I didn't know you felt that way about me. I like you too."

"Snow." 

"This is the best day of my life! Can I buy you lunch?" This time, Tenna couldn't answer as he was too busy giggling. 

"Are you two ready to order, or should I give you another few minutes to pretend you haven't been in a relationship for several years?" Swatch's deadpan voice made the couple jump.

"Sorry, Swatch. Could I get the Ribbon Cable Soup and a Coolant Lemonade?"

"I'll get the same," added Tenna, who had completely forgotten to look at the menu. Swatch nodded and typed the order on his screen.

"Actually, hey, Swatch?" Spamton pulled himself up to give the head butler his full attention. "Tenna told me what happened the day of my accident. Thank you for everything you did to help save my life."

"I was glad to have found Mr Tenna when I did. For what it is worth… Congratulations on your early retirement."

"Thank you…? Sorry, how did you hear about that?"

"It made the front page." Swatch returned to the counter to fetch a newspaper. Sure enough, a headline was on clear display:

'MR BIG SHOT NO MORE.

Spamton G. Spamton has retired from Big Shot Autos!'

"... I'll be honest. I should have expected this, but I didn’t," sighed Spamton.

"Not only was there a public statement, there were also reports of you shouting it at Mr Tenna in the car park."

"... Ah. Yes. I did do that, didn't I… Only because that cathode wouldn't listen to me!"

"I was worried about you overworking yourself!" Tenna countered, "And I was right to worry!"

"In any case," Swatch spoke up before the pair began bickering, "I wish you well on your next endeavour, whatever that might be. Would I be able to talk to you before you leave about your suite, Mr Spamton? I expect you remember Queen's conditions when you were offered the accommodation?" 

The Addison blinked. "Yeah, I remember. I'll see you later." Swatch bowed and departed. Once they had disappeared behind the counter, Tenna turned to Spamton.

"Queen's conditions?"

"Yeah. You have your place as a gesture of goodwill between Dark Worlds, much like how you have a place for her to stay when the visits went the other way. As for me? I was given the suite on account of the success of my brand. I was told I wouldn't need to pay for it, but if I lost my rank I would be kicked out. I'll have to sort out where my stuff is gonna go. I should still have my original apartment…" A screen was pulled up to search his deeds. "Good, it's still in my name. My Cyber City Allocated Funds covered that rent the whole time. I'll need to figure that out too… Eh," he dismissed it with a shrug, "That can wait until we go home."

The newspaper became the source of attention while the couple waited for food. Lemonade only provided a brief distraction before they were going back to working through the puzzles.

When the two bowls of Ribbon Cable soup arrived, Spamton's face lit up after the first mouthful. It was just as good as he remembered it, and better than his attempts to recreate it in the condo in TV Studio. With this in mind, he was taking each mouthful slowly, analysing every flavour and comparing it to the recipe he had scribbled on a saved Notepad document.

Tenna stopped eating, too distracted watching Spamton's antics. The excitement matched how the Addison would behave when he was studying cars while they watched TV together. Once Spamton finally noticed, he egged Tenna on to help him figure out the missing ingredient.

"And how is your meal - what are you two doing?" Swatch's rehearsed line was interrupted by their confusion on their discovery of Spamton and Tenna slowly eating soup while referring to a screen.

"I'm trying to steal your recipe so I can recreate it when I leave the City."

To the surprise of the couple, Spamton's upfront confession made Swatch crack a smile. "And, if I may ask, how is your attempt at thievery going?"

"So-so. I've got most of it, but there was something missing when I made it before."

"I see… Very well. Good luck." Swatch turned away. Sometimes, it was better not to ask what the eccentric Addison was doing.

After the most entertaining lunch the pair had shared, Spamton treated Tenna to an ice cream. It was worth the extra Dark Dollars to see a smile break out across Tenna's screen when he saw the embellishments added to it. The host lifted a wafer diamond and balanced it on the bridge of Spamton's nose. Somehow, it stayed in place until the Addison finally cracked a laugh.

Once they were finally ready to go, Spamton approached the counter while Tenna stepped out into the Mansion's lobby.

"Now that my rank is starting to drop, will I be kicked out today?" Spamton waited until the bill was paid to ask.

"No, but I would recommend using today to start moving your belongings."

"I think that might be a little complicated, eh?" Spamton gestured to the sling, "But I'll see what I can do."

"Here, I think these might help." Swatch opened their inventory and transferred two files to Spamton. "Any possessions that you wish to be relocated to your old lodgings can be packed into those. So long as you have it labelled, I can arrange to have it delivered. Given your recent circumstances, I am happy to make this exception for you."

"Thanks, Swatch. Seriously. Look, I know I was a bit of an ass while living here, but you were always a welcome sight after a long day. I'll miss swinging by here."

"The sentiment is mostly shared. I imagine your departure to TV World will be a one-way trip?"

"Yeah. If I come back, it'll be as a tourist. I think it's time to make some choices for myself without worrying about how the ratings will react."

"Speaking of, if I may ask something unprofessional… Will you be making your relationship with Mr Tenna more official?"

Spamton's posture tensed as he threw a look behind him. Fortunately, Tenna was pacing with a hand on the side of his head. It was likely a phone call back to the Studio. "Hopefully. Maybe. If I can play my cards right."

The head butler smiled. "I understand. I wish you luck in your future and hope that you are able to lead a quieter life. Before you go, I have one last thing for you."

"C'mon, Swatch. You already gave me some boxes. That's more than…" Trailing off, Spamton's eyes widened as he scanned the writing on the top of the page. "You're kidding me."

"Perhaps there will come a day when you will be able to show me your interpretation of the Ribbon Cable Soup. I think having the official recipe might be a good starting point."

"Thanks… Seriously."

Chapter Text

"Jesus, Ant! What did you do??" Spamton couldn't help but laugh at the sight of his busted apartment door lying on the opposite side of the corridor to the door frame that it should have been attached to.

Tenna huffed. "I panicked! I didn't want to waste time opening it properly!" He lightly bapped Spamton on the top of the head with the two flat-pack boxes that he was carrying. "But look! Now you don't need to worry about figuring out how to get your key out with one hand."

"Yeah, very thoughtful of you," snickered Spamton, who took the lead in entering the suite. The moment the threshold had been crossed, the shorter Darkner's body hunched over in pain.

"The Thorn Ring is still here. I don't know whether I should be happy or annoyed about that."

"Do you want to look for it together?"

"No... Not yet. Let's get to work. We don't have long to clear up."

The apartment that had been given to Spamton had an identical floorplan to the one Tenna used. The main difference was that an open archway to the office was on the left. The kitchen and sitting area had few personal belongings. Whatever was found was deemed unimportant and packed neatly into one of the two boxes. The guest bedroom was still empty, but Tenna quickly searched it to be certain.

Spamton opened his bedroom door and hesitated. "Hey, Tens? I think I figured out why we cleared out the main living space so easily. Sweet Heavens, this is gonna take a while…"

Tenna peered over Spatmton into the room and laughed at the mess. "You know what will make this job better? Coffee. I'll go out and get us some, and that'll give you a chance to start before we take a break."

"You've got a deal - but only if you buy hot chocolate. You still owe me, remember?"

"Yes, you're absolutely right!" A kiss was placed on the top of Spamton's head. "I won't be long."

A click of the door indicated to Spamton that he was alone. While the footprint of the room matched the bedroom he woke up in with Tenna, the atmosphere was far different. Tenna's room was messy, but it was the result of stress and haphazardly living in a space that neither of them belonged to.

The room that Spamton stood in, however, was in a state of disarray that could only be managed when the owner of the room no longer cared. Several outfits were thrown across a chair instead of neatly being hung in the wardrobe. The table was barely visible, hidden beneath scraps of paper, a colouring book, scattered pencils, and a long forgotten glass. No effort had even been made to put any scrap rubbish in the trash can. The floor was where they belonged. All around him, the barren walls were a muted grey that reminded Spamton of a file that could not be edited.

This suite was never a home. This was a lodging. This was an empty space for a Darkner with a broken spirit and shattered relationships to hide away from the City when everything became too much to bear. When he cut ties with his Addison friends and ignored Tenna's attempts to call him, all attempts to pretend that he was fine were abandoned at the front door, much like Spamton's attempts to pretend that there was a genuine source to the smile he flashed at his team in Big Shot Autos.

None of the staff knew how his personal life was falling apart at the seams. If they didn't know about the corrupt side of the business, then they didn't need to know about the shell that their boss had become. It was only fair. This was the price the Big Shot had to pay to ensure things didn't go worse. If he was alone, then no one would be hurt by him, no one could hurt him, and no one could take anything away from him. He only needed the phone. They never steered him wrong.

Spamton shook his head. What a terrible mentality to have. He turned his attention to the table and set to work.

Once the colours and book had been tossed into his inventory, and the clothes had been dumped on the bed, Spamton sat on the chair to determine how he should tackle the rest of the mess.

Whatever was on the floor could be trashed. Nothing was of any worth. After that, he should be able to grab his products in the ensuite and start sorting the wardrobe. By then, Tenna should be back, and the job should be a lot easier.

Then… They would leave here together, and by the time they boarded the train tomorrow… Would they be engaged?

Rose was right. Spamton couldn't simply ask. It needed to be a memorable moment, something that Tenna would deem special. But Spamton couldn't bring himself to do anything truly spectacular. He had neither time nor energy to arrange such a thing. He only had tonight! How could he make it like something from the movies, but out of view of the audience, with basically no time to figure out a plan? If Tenna said yes - it wasn't a guarantee that he would! - they would be bombarded with questions and excitement. Spamton didn't want to share this moment with the world.

So what could he do?

Tenna had booked a table at the Monitor Restaurant. That was one of the nicer restaurants, located in a higher spot in the City. If Spamton could take the lead on the walk back, they would arrive at a small viewing point. It was a popular tourist attraction as it gave great views of the city, but it would be quiet by the time they would arrive.

They could look out on the city together. Maybe Spamton could ask about what Tenna thought of the view. Would it make the TV smile if Spamton said that view paled in comparison to Tenna's beauty? Would Tenna grant him the honour of seeing that view forever?

No… That was a little too corny for Spamton to actually say out loud.

Maybe he could say that it was the perfect backdrop for a scene that he had played in his mind for a long time?

"... Huh." That one didn't sound as bad, actually. But no sooner had the realisation struck, Spamton sprung out of his chair in a panic. He couldn't be caught daydreaming! Tenna would grow suspicious if nothing had happened in his absence!

He raced into the bathroom, opening the inventory and grabbing everything inside. On his way out, the trash can was lifted and dropped at the bottom of the bed as a target for the mess that has accumulated.

By the time the floor and the table were fully visible, there was no sign of Tenna. At least that gave him a chance to open the wardrobe and try and start sorting them.

Once he moved into the suite, this wardrobe became a shrine to beautiful clothing. The finest suits ever commissioned were here, along with a variety of outfits in different styles. As each hanger was lifted, it was placed into one of three bundles on the king-sized bed: "Take With Me", "Leave For Visits", "Ask Tenna".

Now that he was retired, he wouldn't need as many suits for meetings and conventions, but he would still need to dress well if he was allowed to remain as Tenna's plus one.

The two drawers were opened and closed as the garments were removed. The bottom drawer was left alone, as it was one that Spamton had left empty.

The need to double-check ultimately won out, and he opened it.

Instead of silence, the drawer rattled. Something was inside.

"What the…?"

It wasn't 'something', singular. 'It' was at least one dozen photo frames of varying sizes. Spamton hesitated, looking around him once more.

That was why the bedroom looked so miserable. The walls used to be a gallery of happy memories and treasured company, reminders of what mattered most to him. But after he fought with Rose, he tore them all down and threw them into the bottom drawer in a fit of rage. If they stayed hanging, they would have become reminders of the price he paid to make it this far, of the hands he was willing to step on to keep his feet dry, the bonds he tore apart.

There were two styles of frame: an old-fashioned wooden frame, and a sleek, black plastic frame. These denoted whether the photograph was given to him by Shuttah or Solas, whose hobby was photography.

How long had it been since he looked at the photos properly?

It took several trips with one hand, but Spamton was able to transport them to a spot on the opposite side of the bed, where they were stacked face-down. Once the final bundle was dropped on the duvet, he climbed onto the bed. He had made great progress cleaning, and the doctor had told him to take frequent breaks.

Look at him go, he was actually following the advice of a medical professional!

His hand reached out to the bundle of frames, only to hesitate. Was this something he wanted to remind himself of? Would the first photograph bring with it anxiety? Or would it give him a reason to keep looking toward each tomorrow that had yet to come?

The plastic frame at the top of the bundle was snatched and flipped face-up to reveal a photo of Snow’s corporation - the Addison term for a closely knit group of friends - in the Cyber Grill.

“Sol, this is a terrible place to test your camera’s timer!”

“Actually, this is the best spot! How often are we all here together?” Solas, the orange Addison, countered as he adjusted the camera to take in as much of the opposite couch as possible. “Everyone, get in nice and close on the couch!”

“We’re not going to fit!” laughed Morpho, the artistic blue-purple Addison.

“Then squeeze together. It’ll only be for a moment!”

“Brother, I know you’re excited, but it would be more sensible to ask someone else to do this…” sighed the yellow Addison. “We can do this another time.

“Come on, Ashes! There’s no fun in that.”

While the group bickered, Snow and Morpho’s twin sister, a pink-purple Addison called Orchid, watched on from opposite sides of the couch. It was better not to get involved. Unfortunately, their silence only served to egg Solas as he turned on the timer and scrambled through the group to get to the middle.

In the chaos, Snow yelped as he was bumped off the edge of the couch. He only had a moment to pull himself up to his head could be seen above the table right as the camera flashed.

Spamton snorted as he saw how ridiculous his longer self looked, yet how his face glowed with laughter.

The next photo was an Addison striking a dramatic post while wearing a stack of seven, large hats. The face was obscured, but the white hands were a giveaway as to who it was.

After that was a photograph of Rose and Snow dressed up in matching navy suits for one of Solas's modeling sessions for the new season of clothes. The brothers  sported identical grins.

How did Spamton exist in recent times knowing he willingly chose to abandon all of this? How much of an idiot was his younger self to decide that pursuing fame was more important than cherishing the treasure that he had the whole time? A second chance was never deserved, but now that he had it, he wanted to grab it with… Well, he couldn’t grab it with ‘both’ hands if one was still paralysed. Would the sentiment still be as effective with only one hand, or would he have to wait until he was medically cleared to hold things with both hands?

The Addison sniggered as he put the photo aside. He might need to ask Tenna his opinion on that problem. 

One more glance was given at the door. Maybe the coffee shop was busy. Another photograph was lifted.

Pink eyes lowered to examine it, only for tears to start forming. The focus was on the young, white Addison, but both hands were cupped to the left of his face. A smaller version of him, standing at six inches tall, stood on this makeshift platform. With a shining halo and fluffy white wings, Angel had both tiny arms pressed against Snow’s cheek in the best version of a hug that it could replicate.

That was the day Angel had learned what a ‘camera’ was. Solas had asked whether it would like a photograph taken of it. The summon had excitedly agreed, but zipped through the Boutique, refusing every single one of Solas' suggestions, until it found Snow. It wanted its first ever picture to be taken with its dad.

This photo was not put with the rest, but instead was placed gently onto his lap so Spamton could rub his eyes, one at a time, with the heel of his hand. At least he had blocked the summon from appearing when he thought he was dead. It always had the innate ability to manifest when Spamton had a surge of emotions. He refused to let it see him like this, not after everything that happened.

“... Snow?” Tenna’s voice was soft as he stepped into the room. “Are you alright?”

“No… No I’m not,” sniffed Spamton, “I miss my baby. I want to hold Angel close and tell it how much I love it and how proud I am of how much it has grown up and become so clever all by itself. I want to make sure it know that it’s the most special thing in my whole world… But I can’t. L-look at me…” Spamton gestured to himself, and Tenna could feel his core ache in sympathy. “I nearly died. My arm isn’t working, I look like a mess, and I wouldn’t even know where to start explaining what happened. I don’t want it to see me like... I don't want it to have memories of me like this…”

“You’re a good parent, Snow. It’ll be worth the wait to be able to see it when you’re feeling better.” One of the takeaway cups was offered to Spamton before Tenna sat beside him on the bed. “Maybe you two can spend a day together away from the Studio to make up for this lost time. Yeah?”

“Yeah…” Spamton trailed off to sip his drink.

The pair sat in silence with their drinks. Spamton had shifted his position so he could curl up against Tenna’s side. The stack of photographs were ignored while Spamton’s focus was solely on the one still lying on his lap.

Tenna wrapped his free arm around Spamton and gently brushed his thumb along the Addison’s right arm. Tenna had been so focused on helping Spamton through the physical consequences of the possession that it was only now that he was starting to understand the extent of the emotional aftershock. Experiencing death first-hand must put everything in a different perspective. When the pair first met, Snow valued those in his close circle. Losing all of that, only to have a chance to repair the bonds, must have hit Spamton hard while looking through the photographs. No wonder Spamton had prioritised making amends before his own physical health. Not being able to spend time with his little 'child' must be devastating, especially given how close the two were.

Eventually, when he finished his drink, Spamton reached forward and grabbed another photo in what was likely an attempt to try and distract himself. It was of himself and Rose in front of the Ferris Wheel. He quietly explained the context to Tenna, with fondness in his voice.

Then, to the surprise of both, the next photo was of the couple. It was the first time they wore matching outfits, on their first Hallowe'en together. Tenna dressed up as a vampire, and Spamton dressed up as Tenna dressed up as a vampire. 

The memory of seeing Spamton wearing that silly cardboard helmet made Tenna laugh warmly.

“I stand by what I said: you would make a very cute TV.”

“Uh, no?” Spamton frowned. “If I can’t be email-related, I'd be a radio, obviously.”

The host dramatically pouted. “But video killed the radio star! I’d never want to hurt you!” 

“Then we change the story! Why can't video kiss the radio star?” He reached up and tugged Tenna down just far enough to peck him on the lips.

“I suppose I wouldn’t object to an idea like that…” Tenna’s smile was soft as he cupped Spamton’s cheek. “How are you doing? Do you want to leave it here for now?”

“I’m okay. There’s only the things on the bed left to sort. Now that you’re back, it won’t take long at all. But… Thank you. For being here. It means a lot to me.” Smiling, Spamton pulled back and looked behind him. “Say… When we finish looking through. these photos, could you help me go through one of the bundles of clothes? I’m not sure whether I should take them or leave them here for when we come to visit. I need a second opinion.”

Chapter Text

Spamton was frozen to the spot at the entrance to the office from inside the apartment. It was the final room to check before the apartment was officially ready to leave behind forever. This was a path he had taken dozens of times at any time of the day or night, but it was the last place he wanted to be in. All he could think about was the black rotary phone illuminated by the light from the apartment, the only point of focus in the pitch-dark office. The cord wrapped around his neck, slowly squeezing -

A hand gently squeezed the Addison's shoulder. Tenna was right by his side. "If you want, I can go inside for you. You can stay out here and tell me what to pick up.”

“N-no, I’m okay.” Spamton did not sound confident. “I need to find the Thorn Ring. I can feel its presence in there, and I’m not letting you touch that if I can help it.”

“Alright. Then I’ll stay with you the whole time.” He stepped into the office first and turned on the light. It worked this time. Content after a brief wait that the bulb wouldn't blow, Tenna returned to Spamton and offered his hand. Spamton took it, gripping it tightly as he followed Tenna into the former workspace.

With the lights on, the true damage from that day could be seen clearly. The phone had disappeared. Part of the wall near the archway was scuffed, where the phone had crashed into the wall. Several scorch marks in the shape of phone cords spread out from where the supposedly broken phone had fallen. Spamton’s eyes widened in horror at the sight.

“At one point, these, uh, ‘wires’ came out of the phone and dug into your back. I pulled you away from them. Maybe they… disappeared afterward? I didn't check.” Frowning, Tenna turned to examine the rest of the office. Thankfully, the only other evidence of a possession was the turmoil of toppled furniture and general upheaval, such as a fallen desk chair and a tossed paper bin.

Spamton silently scanned the room, taking in everything. He had done this, however indirect it was. What had he done to try and hurt Tenna?

But as his eyes scanned the area near the door, his breath caught in his throat and his grip tightened in Tenna’s hand. It was the only warning to follow Spamton to the desk. Once he tugged his hand away, Spamton crawled under the desk and reached out. Somehow, he had located the Thorn Ring in the midst of chaos, pressed up in the corner between the back leg of the desk and the wall. Even with the overhead light working, this area was dark. Paired with the light-absorbing dark metal, the Thorn Ring was almost invisible.

Slowly, he pulled himself back onto his feet, looking between his hand and the sweater. “Would you be able to…”

“Oh, of course.” Tenna lifted the sweater and undid the lower shirt buttons to allow Spamton access to the material pouch clipped around his stomach. While waiting, Spamton raised the ring to examine it under the light.

“It really doesn’t have a single new stain on it…” 

“Of course not,” Tenna said as Spamton returned the Thorn Ring to its pouch, “You told me it was dangerous, and I didn’t want to take the chance of letting that thing equip it. But why don’t you get rid of it? You hate it.”

“I don't have a choice. It’s in my coding to keep it on my person until I meet the right ‘conditions’ to sell it to its destined ‘buyer’. It’s some Addison bullshit that I don’t understand. I would destroy it if I could. No other Addison has to deal with this sort of fucked up magic. My brother? His 'special item' helps ice magic. Mine? Fucking mind control.”

Tenna's focus was on quietly fixing Spamton's outfit once the Thorn Ring was sealed away. A thought came to him. “Then why don’t you? Destroy it, I mean."

Spamton laughed sadly. “I tried. Nothing works.”

Eager to take his mind off the Thorn Ring, Spamton turned his attention to the desk to check for items he had forgotten. Most of the key items had been lifted in his initial, rushed departure from the City two months ago, but there were things that were forgotten in his haste. One such example was the first drawing Angel had been able to make of it with Spamton. It was a mess of colour and scribbles, but one could make out a general 'Spamton' shape and a little 'Angel' shape. To the Addison, it was worth framing and keeping on his desk.

“I meant what I said earlier about not wanting Angel to know...” Spamton’s voice was soft as he lifted the drawing to examine it. “Ant, you need to promise me that you don’t tell Angel the truth about what happened to me this week, or tell it anything about the crimes I committed. I have worked so hard to keep it safe from all my mistakes.”

“You can’t hide the truth forever. Someone will accidentally tell it that you were injured.”

“I know, and I’m not trying to pretend this never happened to begin with. It's a healing summon - it'll know I was hurt the moment it appears, even if I'm healed." Spamton stored the frame safely in his inventory. "What I mean is that I don't want Angel knowing the actual events that happened here. If it asks - which it will - tell it that I was electrocuted."

"So stick with the normal story."

"Exactly. I haven’t taught it about the idea of ‘death’. I don’t want it learning about that because it thought I was never going to wake up again." The working hand slowly brushed against the sling. "I’d rather it fuss over me and my not-working arm over it feeling like it has to constantly check that I’m breathing. You know what I mean?”

“I do,” Tenna nodded, “and you have my word that I won’t tell it the truth about what happened in here. But you can’t pretend that you are still working and living here. It’ll find out you retired and moved out. How are you going to explain that?”

“There's nothing to hide there. Two months ago, Pops gave me an offer I couldn’t refuse. I could stay as long as I wanted, and I decided I’m staying. Besides…” Spamton grinned at his partner, “Angel asked me ages ago why we didn’t live together all the time. It always missed you like crazy when one of us had to go home after a visit. Staying in our condo will make it so happy, and it will love being able to come back here to visit its uncle when we’re able to.” He dismissed the inventory, only to quickly retrieve it to look at the drawing one more time. “You had a good idea earlier. When I’m feeling better, I’m going to take it out for more day trips, like I used to before I became a Big Shot. I want to let it play in the snow for the first time. We have a lot of missed time to make up for."

“That would be a lovely idea.”

At last, the clean-up was completed. Awards and framed copies of articles were taken off the walls to be stored in one of the boxes. Tenna stepped outside with the bundle to do that while Spamton did one final scan of the room.

He wouldn't miss this place. The office came with sleepless nights and constant stress. He would be plagued by whispers if he was here alone, and he didn't want to constantly keep Angel out in case it became corrupted by the Benefactor. If anything, Angel had been appearing less frequently as the Benefactor grew more demanding, like it somehow knew to stay away.

In the apartment, the phone in Tenna’s head began to ring.

Unlike that morning, Spamton was hit by a shudder and a wave of light-headedness that dropped him to his knees. His vision went hazy, only to refocus on the sight of his right arm being a full puppet limb. No, he was completely wooden. He could feel the distorted shift of weight and the burden his head became. His hand shot up to his face. Instead of the soft static of his Addison skin, his segmented fingers brushed against smooth wood. As it trailed down his face, he felt a distinct, separate piece of wood where his chin would be that moved when he opened his mouth.

“N-no…”

Overhead, the lightbulb blew, forcing the puppet to curl up and shield himself with his arm. A new light source appeared. Spamton's head shot up. It was Tenna, except his screen was covered in static. The host was slouched over as he ambled across the open space. Once it was close enough, it fell to its knees with a loud thud.

This wasn't right.

“T-Tenna…?”

“The words are carved in the passage of time, little puppet. You are nothing.”

Spamton recoiled. That was the voice of the Benefactor. Were they able to control Tenna too?? Had bringing Tenna in here been a mistake?? This was why Spamton had pushed everyone away! He had wanted to keep everyone safe! He never wanted Tenna to answer the phone and be plagued like he was! 

“Your actions have no impact on what is to be. He will die, and you will watch it happen.” As they spoke, Tenna’s head began to cleanly split in two, straight down the middle. The cut continued down his neck and into his torso as the voice continued, “Your actions are for naught. You too will become as worthless as his corpse, an empty marionette hanging by a single thread.”

“N-no… No. No! He’ll be okay! I’ll [you have my word] - no, I guarantee it! I'll make [are you sure] of it! And I’ll find [ewe]! And I’ll [[kill]] you! You won’t take him from me, you bastard! You have no [be sure to power off your monitor] over me now!!!” 

Spamton’s hand shot out to grab the Benefactor by the throat. His hand was caught.

He blinked.

The lightbulb in the office was working fine. His Addison hand was being held by a terrified Tenna.

"S-Snow?"

“Ant? A-Ant, tell me I didn’t do [did I hurt you?] to you. I… I didn't mean to. I'm so sorry, I didn't [I don't want to hurt you] want to -"

Tenna shook his head. “It's okay, it's okay… I’m fine. But you… You were shouting. You were upset. I… I wasn’t thinking. I forgot to turn off my phone when we came in here and -”

“No. I-I don’t want you to have to do that sort of thing. I’m not letting myself be scared of the sound of a fucking dialtone for the rest of my life. I need to be stronger than this. I'm cutting my own strings. I want to be free.” With a heavy exhale, he huffed, “And I will kill that asshole with my bare hand when I get the chance. He threatened you.”

Tenna gave a breathless chuckle. “I thought I heard you shouting about not letting anyone take me away from you. You're so romantic!”

“I just had a vision of turning into a wooden puppet, had someone threaten to kill you, and nearly attacked you while I was hallucinating, and all you can focus on is that I was being ‘romantic’??” The question made Spamton laugh. “Good Heavens, you are a disaster and I love you.”

“I love you too.” Tenna’s smirk was proof that it was an intentionally ridiculous thing to say to take Spamton's mind off things. “So, shall we finally rid ourselves of this place? I think a bit of fresh air will do us both some good.”

“Please. I want to close this application and delete it from my life.” 

Tenna helped Spamton back onto his feet and took his hand. “Don't forget: I’m with you, no matter what.”

“No matter what.” Spamton squeezed a little tighter and followed after Tenna.

Before he could cross through the archway back into the apartment, the phone rang.

But the phone wasn’t there. It had been removed. Spamton had just scanned the entire office and there was no sight of a telephone. It had not magically reappeared when their backs were turned.

Tenna’s reaction didn’t change. It didn’t come from his headset. He was simply hearing things. He pressed closer to Tenna. Tenna squeezed his hand.

The phone rang again.

This time, Spamton turned in the direction of the sound on reflex.

A small circle of pressure formed around his ear. Something hovered just in front of his mouth. There was nothing there. No object was visibly there, but something had manifested.

The breath was snatched from Spamton's lungs.

“Snow -?” Tenna felt the light restrain from an unmoving partner. Something wasn’t right.

A voice spoke out with such clarity that even Tenna heard it: 

“Ego te absolvo.”

Then, a click.

Spamton’s left arm erupted in an intense, burning pain.

Tenna did not take a moment to even try and guess what happened. In an instant, he had let go of Spamton’s hand so he could bundle the Addison up and run straight for the apartment entrance.

Darkners panicked to get out of the way as Tenna barged through the reception of the Technomedical Institution Clinic. The receptionists were powerless to stop him running through the double doors. Each closed door was scanned until he spotted Norta’s name listed with several others.

Inside, three Addisons of varying green shades jumped at the sight of Tenna carrying Spamton who was writhing and doing everything in his power not to cry out in agony.

“Put him down over here.” Norta immediately pointed to an examination bench in the middle of the room. A male Addison who had the darkest shade of green quickly cast blue magic to restrain the infected arm. “My brothers, Macfey and Avash, and I will take it from here. You need to leave, Mr Tenna.”

“No! I want to be with him! I’m not leaving -”

“Please.” The third Addison, who was larger and a muted olive-green, stood in the way. “This is an active virus threat. We can’t risk hardware becoming damaged. He’s in good hands, but there is a high chance you will be hurt if you stay.” 

It was clear that Tenna wanted to refuse and argue, but when the door was opened, he followed Avash out.

Back at the bench, Macfey pulled off the scarf-sling and sweater while Norta ran a scan to confirm what was wrong. “It’s the invasive program. It’s still here.” On the screen, ‘puppet_spam.exe’ had been located. This time, it was 85% installed. Avash hurried over to check the results. “I-I don’t understand. I ran the scans this morning. Everything came up clear.”

“We haven’t time to figure that out now. We need to move.” As the extraction expert, Avash quickly pulled a glove over his hand and grabbed the file to stop it from installing further. Spamton let out a cry.

“G-get the shirt off! Get it off! It hurts!” 

Macfey threw a glance to his siblings, waiting for them to give the nod before he tore the sleeve at the shoulder. With the fabric removed, all four could see how the arm violently twitched. There was no attempt to struggle out of the hold of the blue magic. Instead, the erratic movements were due to it undergoing a transformation. It was reforming itself into a puppet arm made from pine wood. With how the three medical experts reacted, Spamton realised this wasn't another hallucination. This was real.

“Ohhh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck -”

“Stay calm, Mr Spamton -”

“Calm??? My arm is turning into wood!! How the [fork] am I supposed to stay [keep calm and carry on]??”

"Unless you want an immediate amputation, you should zip your folder right now, Mr Spamton," snapped Avash. The threat successfully had the salesman stop shouting and hold still as best as he can. The antivirus Addison's grip tightened on the invasive file, but Spamton forced himself to keep quiet and still. His form stayed rigid, eyes clenched shut as he struggled to retain enough willpower to not cry out in agony.

The antivirus siblings worked best in tandem. They could cover any role, but each had their strengths. Norta was the researcher and the go-to for check-ins and scans. Macfey was the hunter. He knew how to track a virus and stop it from spreading. He could also bait it in certain directions to prevent it causing harm. Avash was the extractor. His strength ensured that few viruses could knock him back.

A job that had taken Norta over half an hour took Avash ten minutes, even if the file was more embedded. It was a brutal procedure. Despite his best efforts, Spamton's left arm involuntarily shook and rattled inside the casing of blue magic. Macfey held firm, ensuring that his magic did not falter for an instant. It was easier to keep an infected target restrained, especially when the host was co-operating as best as they could.

Norta stayed to the side. She monitored the situation and served as Avash's eyes when he needed to gauge how Spamton was holding up. The businessman needed to be periodically healed, thanks to the damaged arm slowly depleting his health through the constant burning pain.

Avash's hold was tight on the invasive program. Even if it tried to resume the installation, it was unable to make further progress. His movements to draw the file out were more aggressive compared to Norta's cautious approach a few days earlier.

The file was slowly untangled from Spamton's coding, but it was clear that having a file nearly installed was making the extraction more complicated. Each time a wire connecting the file to Spamton's programming snapped, the white Addison let out a whimper of pain in a struggle to keep quiet as ordered. Avash's approach shifted to try and carefully pluck wires out, but even that did not lessen the pain.

Between that and the burning in his arm draining his energy, Spamton was light-headed. Being weak before anything ever happened meant that he was particularly vulnerable to any harsh changes. Whatever energy he had to think, it was channelled straight into keeping his body still.

"Brace yourself, Mr Spamton. It's almost out, but this will hurt. Ready?"

"No, b-but do it anyway." Spamton had pre-emptively squeezed his eyes shut and dug the fingers of his right hand into his knee.

Avash counted down, only pulling with all his might when he shouted "Now!". Norta channelled her magic into supporting Avash in his action of roughly tugging the invasive file out completely. Macfey amplified the blue magic to keep the left arm pinned in place.

The moment the file was fully removed and encased, Spamton fell back on the bench, his body shaking from the prolonged onslaught of pain.

"Wait, don't destroy it just yet," said Macfey. "I've never seen a virus like this before. And if what Norta told us about it already is true, then we need to be prepared in case this happens again. I would like to study its behaviour."

"Very well." Avash snapped his fingers, locking the case inside a second box.

Meanwhile, Norta stepped over to the other side of the bench. She pulled up a screen to scan for his vitals.

"He blacked out," she explained in a soft voice. "His results this morning indicated his energy levels were low. This took everything he had out of him."

"Orchid did say he used to call himself the 'unluckiest Addison'. I can see what she meant. What a nasty file to have trapped inside you..." Macfey sighed.

"It was a file that could put him into a trance. According to him, he had unknowingly agreed to it, but his 'special item' being linked to trances meant it never fully installed. I… I still don't understand how it activated it. I removed it - hm?" Movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention. "Mr Spamton? Are you still with us?"

The white Addison groaned, his face clenching in an attempt to open his eyes. When he did, he gave a weak smile. "You know, I'm glad I quit my job yesterday - fuck, that hurt. Did you do it? Is it gone?"

"Yes. We're going to run another scan to be certain."

"Multiple," corrected Avash. "I want an additional scan of the arm by itself in case any residue code broke away. The file I took out was intact, but I would like to be sure."

"Thank you, all of you… But how bad is it?" The need to see it for himself did not give him the energy to physically move. He would need to wait a little longer.

The guilt on Norta's face gave Spamton the answer he needed, but she provided a verbal response. "I'm sorry, Mr Spamton… While the extraction was a success, its removal did not reverse the changes like we had hoped. We were able to complete some rollbacks to regain the Addison skin but… I'm afraid your arm remains in a puppet-like state.”

“C-can I see it…?”

Norta nodded to Macfey, who stepped forward and gently hoisted Spamton into a sitting position. He kept his hand on the other Addison’s back for extra support.

Compared to his right arm, the left arm still maintained the shape and style of a wooden puppet arm, complete with segments at every joint. Instead of the pine wood surface, there was a layer of Addison skin. Even if the light was duller than the rest of him, it was less obvious than it otherwise would have been. It looked so wrong.

"A-and this is it… This is me? And there’s no way to… Do anything about it?”

"Unfortunately, it's not that simple. The coding is coming through clear, see?" Avash turned a screen around for Spamton to see the results of one of the scans, "But the arm itself is corrupted. Adding other coding won't make any changes at all. The only way we could have prevented it was if it had been found before it activated."

"But," Norta added, "All the scans are coming back clear. I'm still optimistic that Dr Geepev’s diagnosis will be correct: once the connection reforms, you will have a fully functioning arm. There will need to be some physical therapy to adjust to the changes, but that can be completed in the Studio's Dark World."

"What happened? Norta told us that all the scans were clear this morning." Macfey moved his hand away, confident that Spamton had regained enough energy to hold himself upright.

Spamton sighed. He had already told Norta part of the story, and he didn't see the harm in telling the brothers the events from an hour earlier, no matter how uncomfortable he felt. He recounted the events in the office: the vision he saw, how he almost hurt Tenna, and the phantom phone call. There was a comment on how he heard a message, and then the arm rapidly grew unbearable with the pain.

"I had made a deal. I unknowingly accepted that file. Are you sure this won't happen again?

"We're certain. You shouldn't have any voices in your head either," said Avash.

"If anything, it sounds like the location triggered the activation of the dormant code." Macfey pulled up a screen to write some notes on. "The office is where you were previously hacked, yes?"

"Yeah."

"Then I would wager that the location holds some sort of file activation. You mentioned to Norta that it wasn't the first time you had blacked out. Was it in that same room?"

"Nearly all the time. I never connected the dots… But what if someone else is affected?"

"We'll arrange to give the office a thorough scan and uninstall process. If there is anything weird, it won't stay there."

With a heavy sigh of relief, Spamton slumped, only to bolt upright.

"Wait. If I'm fucked, does that mean anything else I make is fucked??" Spamton looked around for an answer. When none of the siblings responded, he let out a huff. "You know, my Little Shot? The little summon I have? Six inches tall? Has wings? Will it also have this arm? It matches my appearance!"

"Only your appearance," Norta repeated, once she realised what Spamton was babbling about, "From my recollection of previous check-ups, it isn't a one-for-one replica. If it can have wings and you don't, then it should have an unaffected arm."

"Thank Heavens…" 

"Now, do you want us to fetch Mr Tenna? I'm sure he's worried sick out there."

"Could you let me have a few more moments first? I need to come to terms with… This."

"I understand you are distressed," Avash sighed, "But it's been proven that hiding your worries impacts the healing."

That brought a smile to the white Addison's face. "Don't worry, I'm reckless, but I'm not stupid. I won't lie about how I’m doing. The problem is that none of you are used to Ant. He's the worst to deal with when he's stressed. He already blames himself for what happened to me, and seeing me in any way upset will make him feel worse. One of us needs to be calm, and it has to be me. Trust me: it will help keep him level-headed, and that will make the next step a lot easier."

After a few minutes, Norta stepped out to find Tenna. Macfey helped Spamton lay his arm across a table to compare it to his right arm. With both side by side, it was clear to see the differences. The left arm was almost skeletal in comparison, and was roughly two inches shorter in length. There did not appear to be any damage outside of the inability to move it, and the burning sensation did not leave any scarring. He could feel the sturdy wood when he gripped his left arm, but time would tell until he knew what the sensation would properly feel like.

By the time Tenna returned, Spamton was getting advice on how to protect the left arm with additional layers, including a thermal sleeve for warmth, and a white glove to protect the joints during the healing process. He had been told the news beforehand, but it didn't stop him from silently walking over and sitting beside Spamton. The left arm was lifted so carefully, like Tenna was afraid it would snap under his grip.

Spamton smiled. “I’ve decided our Hallowe’en costume next year is based on the Corpse Bride.”

The siblings watched as Spamton's guess was completely correct. The random comment cracked through the host’s worry, and he visibly relaxed. The guilt that had been hovering around him disappeared in an instant.

"I'm sorry I didn't get you here sooner. We could have saved more of it…" Tenna softly kissed the back of Spamton's hand, but the sensation didn't register.

"Actually… You arrived just in time. We couldn't reverse the damage, but every second counted. You helped ensure he retained the Addison skin over the wooden frame, and guaranteed that the changes didn't spread beyond the arm."

"Oh. I… I see…"

“It’s a shame too,” Spamton shrugged. “If it had stayed wooden, we could have decorated it with stickers. But I guess I’ll have to suffer with my normal skin. Help a guy out?” After patting blindly behind him, Spamton managed to locate the sweater and pass it over to Tenna, who began the job of putting it on.

“We’ve explained to Mr Spamton what he needs to do during this adjustment period. It will take a few days for the body to acclimatise to the adjusted body weight. He’ll need to be mindful of his balance while he walks.” Norta had a page with notes that she was writing on. “After that, once he regains movement, he needs to learn how to move and hold things with a shorter arm.”

"Hey. I have a question." Spamton used his right hand to prop the left up like a child wanting to ask the teacher something. "Do I have to stay here overnight for tests and stuff?"

Avash blinked. "No?"

"And do I need to come back tomorrow?" Spamton’s question was slightly shaky as Tenna carefully tied the arm back in the scarf-sling.

"Not unless something flares up."

"Good, good... So does that mean I can leave? We've dinner reservations tonight." When there was no objection to this, Spamton hopped off the bench. “Thank you all for saving my ass again. I promise I won’t do it a third time this week.”

As Tenna followed, Norta pulled him aside to pass him the note with guidance on recovery. “I was going to say something else but… Is he normally like that?”

“When he doesn’t want to focus on something? Yes.” With how endeared Tenna sounded, Norta thought it best not to question it any further.

As they stepped outside, Spamton lifted his head and took a deep breath.

"Are you okay, Snow?"

"Yeah, I'm okay… It's going to take some getting used to, that's all." With the sweater on and the arm tied back up in the scarf-sling, it would be easy to pretend nothing had happened at all. "I asked, and they said Angel shouldn't have this. I hope they’re right."

"I'm sure they are. Remember the time you cut your cheek? Angel wasn’t hurt when it appeared later on to check in on you."

"Oh yeah… You're right. I'd forgotten about that. C'mon, let's go back."

Tenna reached down to take the right hand in his before they set off. They had barely cleared a block when he felt a tug.

"Snow?" Tenna turned to the Addison. Spamton was swaying.

“Ant…? I don’t think I can -” His legs went from under him. Immediately, Tenna crouched down and pulled him close before he could fall. “I’m sorry…”

"Don't apologise. A lot has happened today. I'm amazed you were able to stand up and walk out of the building to begin with. You have been so strong today, but now it's time to recharge your batteries, okay?"

Spamton hummed and shifted himself so he could rest his head against Tenna's shoulder. "Don't cancel tonight…"

"I won't."

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Chapter Text

Spamton had passed out before Tenna had returned to Queen’s Mansion. The Swatchlings assigned to guard the entrance swiftly opened the front doors for the TV host to allow him through with no interruptions.

“Good afternoon, sir.” Swatch had stepped out of the Color Café to accompany Tenna back to his suite. “I heard there was another commotion in Mr Spamton’s office. Following my inspection yesterday, there was nothing that could have resulted in another shock. I would like to confirm what happened to have left Mr Spamton in this state."

“This wasn’t caused by electrocution, Swatch. He simply over-exerted and fainted. Doctor Geepev had advised me to return Spamton to the clinic as fast as possible if it happened in the day or two following him waking up as a precaution.” The improvised lie was smoothly delivered while the pair ascended the stairs. “I promise that I understand the risks that can follow electrocution. No TV worth their static would want to gamble a surge of foreign electricity in their wires. I imagine it should be the same for a piece of software.”

Swatch's nod was enough to confirm this was true. “If I may ask, what was the prognosis of this appointment?”

“As I had hoped, the fainting was simply him not knowing his limits. He will need to rest more during the day while he rebuilds his energy. Which reminds me: Swatch, can I ask you to leave a copy of the train timetable in my suite? If we aren’t there or don’t answer, leave it on the counter by the front door.”

“Certainly, sir. Would you like me to collect any bags while I am there if you aren’t there?”

“No thank you. We haven’t started packing yet. I'm not even sure how much I want to take with me."

“Very well.” The head butler stepped forward with a master key to swiftly unlock and open the door for Tenna.

“Thank you… Oh, before you go.” Tenna stopped in the doorway and slowly turned back to face Swatch. The screen clicked off. The TV head slowly leaned back to further add emphasis of looking down on Swatch. “I would advise you to retrain your staff following our departure tomorrow. What I told you about what happened to Spamton a few days ago was said to you in confidence. I trusted you and those in your employment to keep Spamton’s matters quiet, and yet… Somehow, it appeared in the paper the next day. If I discover the events of this afternoon are in tomorrow’s paper before I board that train, I will see to it that you personally are reprimanded for incompetence before I leave this Dark World. Are we clear?"

The head butler’s feathers ruffled, but they were quick to relax with a sharp exhale. “Yes, sir. I will see to it that my staff are reminded of their professional obligations.”

In the bedroom, Spamton was gently lowered onto the bed once the sling was removed. The blanket was tucked around him with care. With an alarm set, a few hours of rest would help the injured Darkner rebuild the energy needed to go out for their dinner date. Tenna would have preferred to cancel it entirely and let Spamton sleep, but he would never be forgiven for making a decision for both of them independently. 

Tenna had already betrayed Spamton’s trust once before, and the consequences were still being felt. He had worked so hard to keep Spamton safe, but one slip-up undid all that progress. He nearly lost Spamton again in that accursed office! Spamton’s arm was permanently disfigured because Tenna had forgotten to mute his phone! Everything that had been so carefully balanced had been knocked like a house of cards. 

That Benefactor… They were possessive, but Tenna was stubborn. They had no idea what to expect when facing Tenna. Spamton was his. That had never changed, even with the phone calls. Tenna had laid claim to Spamton first.

Not only that, Spamton needed Tenna, not the Benefactor. It was them that had hurt Spamton, not Tenna! They were the reason any of this pain and suffering happened, and Tenna promised himself that he would not leave.

It was Tenna that would be there to help Spamton through this recovery period. It would be Tenna who would take the time to go through the necessary daily exercises and stretches to help regain mobility in that left arm. Spamton would be comfortable and able to take things at his own pace until he was better. No one else would be able to help the Addison better than a Dark World ruler! Spamton had given reassurance that he wanted to go back to their condo, and Tenna would make that condo a perfect home to start a new life in. Spamton would be safe, and far, far away from that accursed voice.

Once Spamton was as snug as a bug under the blanket, Tenna hesitated. What would it have been like if the voice had simply contacted Tenna? What if he had been given the opportunity to be Big too? If Tenna had been ‘in the loop’, then Spamton’s agreement never would have been broken, and the puppet antics never would have happened!

… But if Tenna was under the thumb of a voice he couldn’t see, what consequences would have faced him had he put his foot down and refused to do something? Would there be a humiliation in the reality of a Dark World Ruler being controlled by another? Would his staff take him seriously? Would he ever know what it was like to be truly Big? How could that happen without -

A weak groan snapped him out of his thoughts. 

“It’s alright, Snow… I’m here. We’re in the room, and you’re lying on the bed.” Immediately, Tenna was leaning over and resting a hand on Spamton’s chest. “You’re okay. It’s time for your scheduled recharge. I’m going to set an alarm so you will be awake in time for our dinner date. Relax and rest. I won’t be far if you need anything, okay?” 

Before he could move, a hand wriggled out from between the blanket and grabbed his sleeve. Spamton’s eyes were open just enough to give him a faint sense of where he needed to look. Despite the exhaustion that weighed him down, the hold was firm.

Tenna paused, taking a moment to try and guess what this implied. “Do you… Want me to keep you company until you fall asleep?” When the grip tightened, a soft smile appeared on Tenna’s screen. 

This was it. This was the proof that Spamton needed him. No matter what happened after this, no matter how small his audience would grow in the future, he would make sure that Spamton would always be there. He would always have Spamton. Spamton would always have him. There would never be anything to question that. Not now. Not ever.

But he needed to focus on the present and be a supportive partner. That was a priority. “Alright. I’ll stay with you for a few minutes, I promise. Can you let me go so I can take off my jacket and set the alarm? Then I will be right by your side.” 

Immediately, the hand fell, and the head dropped back against the pillow. Clearly, Spamton was drained if such a simple action took so much effort. Tenna kept his screen on the Addison while taking off his jacket and draping it over the back of the chair. Then, the clock was lifted to let the countdown to the alarm begin. 

Slowly, Tenna returned to the bed and took his place beside Spamton. The white Addison lacked any hint of expression on his face, yet his chest rose and fell in short, even spurts. The discomfort his body was feeling was matched only by the sheer relief of being able to physically rest. Not even the disruption of Tenna moving Spamton’s arm back underneath the blanket did anything to shift the former Big Shot’s expression. With how he was positioned, it was like Spamton was unconscious all over again.

Unwilling to humour the thought, Tenna settled down, opting to lie on the blanket and lightly drape his arm across Spamton’s stomach. When Spamton once more pulled his arm out from underneath the blanket with the sole intention of blindly tugging Tenna closer to him, the host was quick to nestle closer and kiss the side of Spamton’s head as reassurance. 

"I'm right here. Everything will be okay…" He powered the screen off to avoid having a light shining in Spamton’s face.

Within minutes, both had fallen asleep.

The loud, clanging alarm jolted Tenna awake. He hadn’t intended to nap, but there was no denying that the rest helped him as well. 

In another Dark World, in a bedroom in a homey condo, Spamton would have let out an irritated noise and buried himself under the blanket to drown out the invasive, blaring alarm. In that other bedroom, Tenna would laugh and kiss Spamton’s hair once the alarm was turned off and lightly teased that the ‘big bad noise’ was gone.

But here, as Spamton remained unresponsive to the still-ringing alarm, Tenna was faced with the reality that perhaps the constant protests to getting up in TV World wasn’t simply Spamton liking sleep too much, something that had been confirmed by Rose. Instead, Spamton would have been stretched beyond his limits in a foreign Dark World to meet the expectations of that damned Benefactor. Spamton always struggled to sleep when he was alone in his suite. Was that the Benefactor's fault? Is that another reason why Spamton kept falling asleep or struggled to wake?

Once they returned home, Tenna would make sure Spamton settled into a routine of getting better sleep. He would feel like a million Points, Tenna was sure of it! Maybe that could start today. Spamton could sleep a little longer and Tenna could simply wake him later before they had to go.

“No… I can’t do that. You’d never forgive me if I went back on my word. You would want to get ready” Tenna moved to finally turn off the alarm, disappointed to see how his partner hadn’t stirred from the subconscious registering of a presence disappearing around him. Carefully, a hand was pressed down on the opposite side of Spamton’s pillow to allow Tenna the leverage to lean down and lay out a trail of kisses that started in Spamton’s hair, then across his cheek, and along his jawline until he stopped at the chin.

“Good morning, Snowdrop…”  The murmur, along with the light barrage of kisses was finally enough to make Spamton’s eyes flutter open when the body shivered at the sensations. Something in Tenna’s chest whirred at the sight that graced his screen. “There’s my perfect mailman.”

Unfortunately, while the body was awake, the mind was certainly not. Spamton’s right hand reached up until it rested against the side of Tenna’s frame, then it tried to weakly push his head down toward Spamton’s left shoulder.

Tenna snorted. “Are you trying to make me go back to sleep?” He covered Spamton’s hand with one of his own. “No, no. That won't do... We have to get up. You told me to wake you for our date tonight, remember?”

At last, the mind stirred just enough to mumble, "... I r'embr… Wha' timezit?"

“Six. We’ve time before we have to go.” The answer had Spamton sigh in relief. “How are you feeling? Do you think you’ll be able to go? It’s okay if you can’t. I can cancel -”

“No, no…" Spamton took a long, deep breath and forced himself into a sitting position. "I’m going. I’m okay, I’m okay. I just hate being stuck on low power like this...”

“It won’t be forever. Geepev said you’ll be able to build up your strength again over time. For now, you’ll just need to take an afternoon nap to help give yourself a fighting chance on the road to recovery.” Tenna’s fingers slowly brushed through Spamton’s hair to help it find its familiar shape.

“Think I can get you to nap with me in your dressing room? You always had the nicer furniture…” The Addison trailed off, flopping against Tenna with a content sigh. Maybe he could stay in this moment a little longer.

The hand moved aside to allow Tenna kiss Spamton’s hair. “I’m sure I can pull some strings to let that happen.”

“Now that I have picked my outfit, have you decided which shirt you want to wear with your jeans?” Tenna's date night look was still hanging up, but he put them aside to grab them faster once he had Spamton dressed. There were still several options left in Tenna's wardrobe that would look perfect on the former Big Shot - though Tenna would be hard-pressed to say something didn’t suit Spamton.

Tenna's question hung in the air for several long seconds.

“Tough decision, dear?” There was a playful tone in his voice as Tenna turned around. Instead of seeing a Spamton sitting on the bed, frozen by indecision; he was instead greeted by the sight of the Addison with his head down, attention on his arms. “... Snow?”

“Huh?” Spamton looked up, shrinking back slightly in guilt. “S-sorry, did you say something?”

“I was asking about whether you had decided which shirt you wanted to wear but… Are you alright?”

“Y-yeah. I think this is all starting to really sink in. This is how things will be for me, forever. I can’t feel anything so it’s - uh, it’s still surreal to see this.” His gaze lowered to his hands. Without the sling on, the left arm had been positioned to flop over his lap. Like this, it was easier to feel the difference in the body weight distribution. If Spamton let his concentration break for a second, he could feel himself begin to lean more to the right. It was less like his left arm was lighter, and more like his right arm was too clunky. The sensation was bizarre, and he quickly straightened his posture. “I embraced the role of a salesman because it let me pursue freedom. That’s all I ever wanted. The money was nice, but the freedom… That’s what I wanted more than anything else. With the Benefactor breathing down my neck, I’d accepted my fate and the reality that I’d never be anything more than what they told me I’d be.”

“You’re so much more than that.”

“They wanted me to be - look at me... They wanted me to be their puppet who would never refuse their order. That’s all I was to them.” His right hand slowly rubbed his left arm. “Somehow, I was treated even worse than I was by the Lightners. But… I don’t have their voice in my head anymore, and I can think clearly without the bloatware and whispers that would creep in if I stayed here for too long. I haven’t had my sleep disturbed by the ringing of that damn phone yet. And if the price to pay was the use of my left arm and have it replaced by a damaged, corrupted file… That’s the best possible deal. No one else needs to know that it’s meant to be wooden.” Spamton trailed off, looking up at Tenna as a thought crossed his mind. “You did this.”

“You shouldn’t look so happy when you say that.”

“You saved me. I should have died that day. You refused. You let me live.”

“It’s my fault this started to begin with, and I’d do everything in my power to keep you safe. I would reverse everything if I could." Tenna meant it too. He knelt down to kiss the back of the left hand, like how he saw the knights in fantasy movies swear an oath to the one they cared about. There was no reaction to the touch, yet Spamton still looked endeared. “So long as I live, you will be under my protection as ruler of the Dreemurr Dark World, and none will ever hurt you. I will make sure of it.”

“You don’t need to do that -”

“But I want to. I’ll always want to.” The smile on his screen spoke a thousand words. “Are you ready to choose a shirt, or do you need a few more moments?"

Monitor Restaurant was located in one of the highest spots in the City, on one of the slopes. It was not considered a ‘luxurious’ restaurant compared to the prime spots in the middle of the City, but it had built up a good reputation for itself over the years it was in operation. The main attraction was the namesake: large windows that allowed patrons a special view of the city and funfair. The interior was warm, but dark, to allow the focus to remain of what lay beyond the glass.

It was a popular choice for Spamton and Tenna’s date nights when they were in Cyber City. Once he became a Big Shot, Spamton made it his mission to book a table for one of the nights. Outside of that, he never went there. As much as he enjoyed the food, he wanted to associate the venue with Tenna. 

The thought must have been reciprocated, as Monitor Restaurant was Tenna’s first choice when he decided a date night to celebrate Spamton’s ‘retirement’ was needed.

Spamton’s plummeting rankings did little to change how the staff smiled and escorted them to a table on the upper floor. It was like any other time - only this time, their waiter wished Spamton well in his retirement and his recovery on behalf of everyone who worked in the restaurant.

It only drove home one thought in Spamton’s mind: he didn’t deserve this kindness from other Darkners after the dirty tricks he had played to get to the top. He couldn’t confess his sins lest Big Shot Autos suffered, but he would never truly get the chance to partake in his penance. 

Tenna’s smile and actions appeared to disagree with the conflict stirring in Spamton’s mind. The host only gave the menu brief glances as he instead wanted to take in the sight of his boyfriend. Spamton had eventually chosen a sharp, dark green shirt with the top button opened. With the tan scarf still functioning as a sling, white gloves on both hands and black jeans paired with his favourite black shoes, the Addison oozed modernity and class. It was a far cry from the full suits that Spamton would usually wear on these dates, yet it was still fitting for him.

On the opposite side of the table, Tenna had opted to wear a burgundy sweater-vest over an off-white shirt and beige trousers that were complemented by dark brown shoes. Spamton would be lying if he thought Tenna looked anything less than perfect. If he wasn’t already head over heels for the TV, he certainly would be now!

Both Darkners had a surge of energy following the nap, which allowed both to engage in lively conversation. The topic of recent events was off the table in an unspoken agreement. Tenna led the conversation as he caught Spamton up on the antics in the Studio since they left. Spamton had been an advocate in letting some of the cast get a chance to try their skills, and he relished the fact that his idea was being taken seriously.

After their starters, two other patrons who had finished their meal nervously approached the table. They apologise for interrupting the couple but they wanted an autograph from Tenna - who was delighted to agree. It granted Spamton an opportunity to sit back and watch how Tenna truly shone when allowed to make others smile. He could understand why Tenna felt desperate enough to create that contract; even if Spamton believed there would always be someone who would love the TV as much as he did. Maybe Spamton had been wrong to never explain the truth to Tenna, but there was an innocence in how the host handled fame and his popularity. Spamton never wanted to risk that feeling being tainted. It only added to Tenna’s charm.

By the time the empty main course plates were collected, Spamton knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Tenna. He wanted to marry that TV. That feeling had not diminished, despite everything that happened. If anything, it had only grown stronger. He would do anything to see Tenna on their wedding day. Would Tenna opt for a suit, or would this be an excuse for him to wear a dress? Either way, the star would look beautiful.

How was it that Spamton managed to be the one to earn Tenna's affections? He knew he was lucky beyond measure in the knowledge that Tenna's love belonged to only him.

His right hand stretched out across the table. Tenna, who had been telling Spamton about Elnina’s debate about whether she should dye her hair, glanced down at the hand. With curled antennae, he reached out and placed his hand over Spamton’s.

“Are you alright? You look like you have something troubling you.”

“I love you, Tenna.”

Tenna chuckled softly and brushed the side of Spamton's hand with his thumb. “I love you too.”

The streets were quiet when the couple began the stroll back to the Mansion. Tenna had told Spamton of the plan to get a train tomorrow, and the Addison was quick to agree. Neither of them wanted Tenna to begin undergoing petrification from staying too long. They would be ready to leave in the morning, only sleeping in depending on how forgiving the train timetable was. Then, after a day of rest, Spamton would lower the mental block and allow Angel to learn about the ‘electrocution’ and how its Dad had retired from being a car salesman. It would be a busy few days, but it would be a nice way to start the next chapter.

"Actually, wait. Before we go back… Can we go that way?" At a fork in the road, he gestured to the uphill path on the left. "Since this is my last night here, I want to take in the sights with my own eyes one more time. I know I have photos but it's not the same, you know?"

Tenna smiled. "Of course. It's a beautiful night to do that."

The conversation trailed off as they traversed the path. Steps were slowly ascended until the path turned to continue toward apartments. To those in the know, like Spamton, it was better to step off the main path and cross into an alleyway. From here, the pair were able to approach a railing where the city centre sprawled out before them like a colourful kaleidoscope. 

They were closer than they were at Monitor Restaurant, but this perspective shifted the focus to the City Centre and both the East and West shopping districts. The buildings were painted in various shades of blue, with each one standing out in its own way thanks to billboards and pop-ups that decorated them. Some buildings had no lights following the end of their business day, while others were illuminated by their windows. Spamton could see the Boutique if he leaned over the railings just far enough. That was the place he would miss the most in this whole Dark World. In the streets closest to where the couple stood, the vague shapes of Darkners and cars could be seen journeying along, oblivious to those spectating from afar.

"I'll never get over this view," Spamton admitted softly. He carefully maneuvered himself to sit on the railing. Tenna leaned down to prop his right elbow against the cold metal, while his left arm stretched out to give Spamton extra support in his position. 

"It is a marvellous sight to behold," Tenna hummed in agreement, "But I won't mind not seeing it again any time soon. I know I have the perfect view I need."

Spamton snorted. "Okay, yeah, Garden Heights is pretty, but I don't see how you can appreciate it when you're looking out over TV City rather than at the plants that are there. Maybe it'll be my time to learn what the flowers and stuff are called."

"I didn't mean that."

Spamton turned his head. Tenna was looking at him, ignoring the view completely. The host slowly leaned in closer, and the Addison found himself caught in a kiss. Tenna's right hand lifted so it could gently rest against Spamton's cheek in an unspoken plea to stay close.

The pieces were falling together perfectly. This was the ideal start to the proposal which, in turn, gave Spamton the boost to deepen the kiss right as he reached up and squeezed the base of Tenna' left antenna. He felt Tenna's fingers curl a fraction against his skin before Tenna pulled him in as close as they could be without putting Spamton in danger of falling off the railing. The static zapped at his tongue, but it only encouraged Spamton to keep going.

He would have gladly stayed like this for an hour, but Spamton had a reason for taking such a diversion and he needed to concentrate. When they broke for air, Spamton reluctantly leaned back so he could properly look at Tenna.

"I always wanted a moment like this. Just you and me, in a secret corner of the city where we don't have to be what others expect of us." His fingers slowly traced the edge of Tenna's frame while he spoke. Though his eyes briefly drifted to the lips that were tempting him into another kiss, he forced himself to stay on track. "I love you, Tenna, and I hope that you still feel the same despite everything that's happened to me."

"Of course I still love you!" Tenna playfully snapped, like the mere thought of anything contrary was an offense, "I want to be here, with you. Even after everything that… After everything you've lost."

"Hey, it's okay." A reassuring pat was given to the side of Tenna's head. "I still have my arm, and I'll do everything I can to get it working again. At least they didn't have to amputate it."

"Not just that. I mean… You resigned from Big Shot Autos because you were so sure that no longer having that Benefactor would ruin everything."

"That's because they would. I don't know who - or what - my Benefactor was. All I know for sure is that they were not a normal Darkner. If they told me to do something, and I did it, the rewards would be more than what they should have been. If I refused, then they make sure I suffered in some way. They had the power to artificially inflate my ratings. That's how I broke records. It was fake."

"F-fake…?"

"But Big Shot Autos was an honest business. I kept everything separate. Remember how you used to catch me doing jobs with strict deadlines, and you would remind me that I had a team for a reason?" Spamton's question made Tenna nod. "Those jobs were the crooked ones. I didn't want anyone knowing the truth, so I shouldered that side of my work by myself. I had staff who worked honest jobs! If I let the business tank, what was going to happen to them? But if I cut ties, then I could help them one last time, and no one would be hurt."

Tenna's right hand pulled away as he shifted his balance from one foot to the other. "I just don't understand… Your Benefactor had the potential to do so many wonderful things. Why didn't they?"

"Beats me. They're twisted, that much I know. Sure, they were all nice and caring when they first called, but they showed their true colours once it was too late for me to back out. I was forced into an oath of silence. I couldn’t ask for help, even though I wanted to."

Silence fell. Tenna turned his head to look at the view once more. Spamton's gaze lowered. It didn't feel right to continue with his plan when the mood had taken a nosedive . There was something underlying Tenna's words, and he needed to know what that was. "But hey… You know, it's not all doom and gloom. They never touched my emails. I haven't lost everything."

"But you lost your chance to be Big because of me…"

"I would've thrown it all away for you if I had been given the choice. I would have gone bankrupt for you."

Tenna turned his head, antennae upright in surprise. He had once learned that if an Addison made a declaration like that, it meant that their life's very purpose was less important than being able to spend time with someone. Yet… Given how he and Spamton had been dating before Spamton became a Big Shot, and how Spamton’s true purpose was free for everyone to use, the sentiment did not feel as genuine as it should have.

"Is that why you dangled it in front of me the whole time?"

"... What? What did I dangle?"

"Being Big. I would have been happy if you had never looked into the car industry, and I told you as much. If you had stayed as a mailman, you would have had my heart completely and I would have loved you as much as I do now. But you became Big... And you did it alone."

Spamton's eyebrows furrowed. "Ant? That wasn't what I was doing -"

"I waited. I thought that once you had everything in order, you’d - you’d tell me the truth." As Tenna spoke, Spamton could feel the Thorn Ring's spikes digging into his stomach as they always did when his stress levels grew, as though trying to amplify the negativity. 

"I lied to keep you safe. That's all I ever wanted. They… They wanted to hurt you."

"'What's success without a little pain'… Isn't that what you told me once?" When Tenna turned his head, there was a sad smile on his screen.

"That isn't… T-this…" The stinging from the spikes hurt almost as much as the pain in his heart, but he forced himself to not buckle from either. "Is… Is that why you stayed with me? Is that why you went through all that effort not to lose me when I tried pushing you away?"

The words that Tenna had uttered finally caught up with his brain. "No, no! Of course not!" With a jolt, Tenna repositioned himself so he could hold Spanton's right hand with both of his, desperate to undo his fumble. "Snow, I made an effort to stay with you because I love you and I want you in my life. You've made my world so much brighter. You've given me a reason to put more effort into my life outside of my work. I guess… I just thought we could be Big… Together."

"But we were." Spamton's simple response had Tenna's antennae curl in confusion. Tenna helped Spamton off the railing to stand on the ground as the mailman continued, "We were the top billing at so many social events. You've had countless sold-out performances here in Cyber City. We had numerous photoshoots, prime-slot interviews, an article dedicated to calling us the couple to aspire to be like. I even hosted a party for all the snobs. Me! Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I'd do that, and that's because you were right there by my side."

"But that's not the same as being Big with the Lightners."

"It isn't,” Spamton agreed, “but what's wrong with living to help the Darkners? That's what my focus has always been on. You make the Darkners smile and laugh just as much as you do your Lightner family."

"... You think so?"

"I know so. I'm one of them, and every day I have to pinch myself to remind myself that I get to be here with you." Spamton finished with a smile, but it lost its strength when Tenna glanced aside again. "Tenna?"

"I'm sorry. I know what you are trying to do, but… That day, when you left and I ran after you, I know there's a-a world where I stayed behind. I know there's a 'me' out there who picked up the phone. I want to be Big, Spamton, I can't pretend otherwise. I don't want to be forgotten about by my family."

"You won't be. I promise you, you won't be," Spamton softly rested his hand against Tenna's arm, "But there are other ways to do it. My Benefactor… They would have made your family hate you."

"And how do you know that?"

"Because they made Rose hate me for what I had become. They made me steal from him when I didn't want to, but they also told me they'd hurt him if I tried to clear my name. You don't understand the stress that puts someone under." Pulling his hand away, Spamton sighed. "I made it Big, sure, but I lost everything on the way. My family, my close friends, my sense of self, even my sense of 'right' and 'wrong'. The only time I began to regain these things was when I was in the Studio, out of reach and out of sight."

"But -"

"They would have killed me that day if you didn't come with me. I know they would do the same to you if you had gotten your way. Those kids wouldn't want to watch a TV that had certain words blocked or channels removed. I don't want that. I don't want you being hurt because I made mistakes in my desperation to be accepted by some of my peers. If I'd just… if I had only listened to the voices of those I care about, none of this would have happened." It was a sentiment Spamton had uttered a thousand times before when he was alone in a heartless bedroom in the Queen's Mansion, surrounded by photographic relics of the life he threw away. 

Tenna turned back to the railing. He had shrunk while Spamton spoke. Now, just tall enough to rest his nose on the top of the Addison's head, Tenna sighed. "All I want is the certainty that things will never fade away. Is that wrong?"

"No. No, it isn't. But you can do that without the Benefactor. You don't need a direct line to them. You've got a good team of Darkners around you. And now… You've got me. I'll do anything I can to keep things going." Tenna hunched over at Spamton's promise. It only emphasised how he shrunk a little more. The Addison gave a small, sympathetic smile. "It's okay to feel glooby about this. You've had a long few days and a lot of stress."

"I'm sorry… This shouldn't be about me." Tenna's voice was so quiet that the volume was nearly at zero. "You almost died. You lost everything. Your arm is disfigured. You have so many more things to worry about than me. I'm so selfish and stupid..."

"I never said that." Spamton shifted his weight to his right foot so he could lean over and lightly bump against Tenna. "I love TV. I'll help however I can now that I have so much free time."

"But what if it doesn't work? What if I'm unplugged and thrown out?" Tenna turned to look up at Spamton, only to be greeted with a shrug.

"Then I learn how to install myself onto a TV. We'll be thrown out together. Maybe we could be the stars of the dump." Fuelled by the grim idea, Spamton quickly whipped up new lyrics to Tenna's theme song: "Spamton and Tenna's Dumpster Time~!"

When the improvised jingle was finished with a jazz hand, Tenna snorted as tears began to form on the screen. "I missed you, Snow."

"What?" The hand lowered. "I've been here the whole time. I mean, aside from when I was knocked out…"

"Yes, but not like this. It's been a long time since I've seen your eyes sparkle like we're standing under the spotlights. You're acting more and more like the Addison I fell in love with. You’re being yourself again." Tenna stepped closer and wrapped his arms around Spamton's waist. In an unusual turn of events that had Spamton be the taller of the pair, he rested his hand against the side of Tenna's frame once more. This time, the host leaned into it. "Maybe I'll never be Big like you were… But I would be nothing more than a husk of myself without you in my life."

"That's exactly how I feel. When I pushed you away along with everyone else, I was miserable and hollow. You make my coding skip a line when I look at you."

The tears slipped down the screen. Tenna rose onto his toes to give himself just enough height to kiss Spamton. There was no further movement, no attempt to make the kiss any deeper. It was simply a moment to allow both Darkners to recognise that the other was right there - and despite their individual flaws and mistakes, the partner was not going anywhere.

Chapter Text

Following confessions that neither of them had expected to hear, there was a sense of burdens being lifted off their shoulders. Both had admitted secrets that they had been sure the other would never forgive them for - and yet, neither of them left. The love they shared was stronger than any sort of fear. Spamton was ready to dedicate himself to a life of righting his wrongs, and Tenna was ready to try and find another way to be Big.

The walk back to the Mansion was peaceful. There was no need for words. The reminder of the other's presence was more than enough to keep each of them grounded. Tenna, who was still shorter than Spamton, kept a tight grip on the Addison's free hand. Spamton was here. Tenna was here. That was all that mattered.

On the table near the entrance to the suite, Swatch had left the train schedule. There was a train due to leave in the late morning, which they agreed upon before setting to work packing.

An hour passed. They played music on the radio and sorted out the small assortment of items that Tenna wanted to bring back with him: some photographs, two outfits, and a bag. All the while, he gradually grew until he was back to his Cyber City height. The time together doing something so casual and domestic helped keep the energy light. Spamton had even fetched his Keyboard Cookie to share to give them both the motivation to finish the job. When Tenna jokingly asked about the orange soda, Spamton refused on account of wanting to hoard it for when they returned home.

By the time the packing was finished, the pair sat on the edge of the bed to try and regain some strength before getting ready to sleep.

"Hey, Snow?"

"Yes, Ant?"

Tenna rested a hand over Spamton's hand. "Thank you. For earlier, I mean. I think it might have helped to get all of that off my chest. I hope you know that I love you for who you are, and I always have. Your actions don't make me think any lesser of you. You are still the Darkner I fell in love with."

"Tens..." Spamton could not tell whether it was love for his partner or shame for his crimes that made his face burn. "After everything you have done for me, listening to your troubles is the least I can do to repay you. I don’t know what I’d do without you, beautiful…" Spamton pushed himself forward to kiss the tip of Tenna's nose. To his delight, the nose shuddered as the host tried to stop it from blossoming with his free hand.

"I-I-I should call Lanino. Let him know you're okay after earlier. I'll be back!"

"Don't take too long, handsome~" Spamton watched Tenna hurry off with a lovestruck smile. However, once the door closed, he dropped back onto the bed, uttering a curse under his breath.

He screwed up! After that emotionally exhausting heart-to-heart conversation, Spamton couldn't bring himself to actually propose. Now what??

Jumping onto his feet, he snatched his pyjamas and stormed into the ensuite. He needed a new plan, and fast! There wouldn't be time to go somewhere before they had to catch the train. Unless he did it on the walk to the train station? But what was important about that?? There was nowhere significant along that route! Not only that, they agreed on the time to leave, so Spamton would need to have a very good reason to want to delay it - and he was out of ideas!

That meant the proposal would have to be back in TV World. Maybe he would have to go with his original, pre-contract idea of a dinner date. That would only guarantee there would be an audience, and that was not what Spamton wanted after recent events! He was weak! He didn't want to play a part or be crowded with attention!

The frustration of his failure to complete his plan came with a second wind that powered him through the nightly routine. Not even struggling with one hand delayed him for too long. By the time Spamton was finished and stepped back into the bedroom, Tenna was sitting on the bed once more. He had already changed into his pyjamas and was still on the phone. The movement behind him prompted Tenna to turn around, and his expression lit up.

"Snow! Come here! Come say hi to Lanino and Elnina!" He patted a spot beside him on the bed that Spamton dutifully sat on. When Tenna slumped his posture and lowered his head, one of the antennae drooped down to be closer to Spamton. This, in turn, allowed him to hear the chatter on the phone.

"Hey hey hey."

"Spamton!!" Both members of the Weather Duo could be heard loud and clear - to the point of Spamton playfully pulling back with a dramatic flinch. "How are you? Are you okay?"

"Oh, I'm doing absolutely stellar. Never better! Hope you two have been behaving without the big guy there!"

"You know us, Spamspam," teased Elnina, "We're the biggest instigators of trouble in this whole Studio! Stormy days and plenty of tricks in the forecast!"

"But it is good to hear you sound like yourself," Lanino was quick to cut in. "It sounds like a lot has happened since you left. We've all been worried about you."

"Y-yeah… It hasn't been easy, that's for sure. I’ll be glad to put this week behind me." He rubbed the back of his neck. This was a miserable thing to think about. 

Then, an idea struck.

"Hey, if you're all so worried about me, does this mean I'm getting a 'Welcome Home' party tomorrow?"

The joking tone was missed by Tenna, whose demeanour had immediately perked up. "Yes! That is a great idea! We need a party to celebrate Spamton being okay and his safe return to our Studio!"

"Hey! Wait! I was kidding! I didn’t actually mean it!" 

On the other end of the line, Spamton could hear Elnina's bright laughter. "Too late, Spamton!"

"I've already booked a DJ," Lanino teased.

"Oh yes! A DJ would be perfect! We could get party food too. Chips and chocolates and soda all around! We need to make the most of this!" Caught up in the excitement, there was no point attempting to stop Tenna's one-track mind.

"Okay, well... Guess I'll have to be the centre of attention for the day. I'm gonna go mentally prepare for that. Have fun planning!"

"See you tomorrow, Spamton!" Elnina giggled. Lanino likely said something, but Spamton crawling up the bed had him go beyond the range of the transmission. 

When Spamton settled himself to sit on his side of the bed with the pillows for back support and the blanket over his lap, Tenna was up on his feet, pacing back and forth as he gave ideas for this last-minute celebration. In an attempt to make it less obvious that he was eavesdropping, Spamton opened up the email server to allow it to prepare for an overnight update while he scanned the overall running of it.

Through the translucent white screen, Spamton could make out Tenna's figure removing his gloves and putting them on the table. That was the final proof that he was going to bed, and only served as a distraction as Spamton instead watched him instead of the graphs on the screen.

Tenna clicked the buttons to hang up. He stepped closer to the bed, only to pause. The screen did little to hide how Spamton was staring at him. The movement stopped as Tenna tilted his head to the side with an amused smile.

"Is something the matter, Snowdrop?"

Spamton hummed. "No. Just remembering how much I love you, Showstopper."

Tenna made quick work of setting himself up like Spamton had. They would lay down and sleep soon, but Tenna liked the quiet intermission before that. He reached over and swiftly untied the sling, then tossed it onto the nightstand.

His plan had been to ask how Spamton was doing after a busy evening, but the Addison took the opportunity to yank Tenna into a quick kiss. The daze that followed gave Spamton a brief window of opportunity to crawl over and sit on his boyfriend's lap.

"I love you." Spamton's voice was a murmur against Tenna's lips, interrupted by brief pecks against lips. "You're so handsome, and your voice is so nice to listen to when you're talking on the phone. You're so perfect to me, and I love everything about you." The words were successfully making Tenna's screen grow warmer to the touch. Spamton's index finger idly tugged on the collar of Tenna's pyjama shirt. "It's all true. I've loved you from the moment I saw you on TV for the first time all those years ago. I've loved you from the moment you met Angel and treated it like it was your step-child without a second thought. I've loved you every morning and each night, and I can't see myself changing channels when you're my main attraction."

"S-Snow…" Tenna could barely get the name out before Spamton kissed him properly. This time, Tenna had enough brainpower to react. His right hand rested on Spamton's thigh, while the left snaked around the Addison's back to tug him closer. As the kiss deepened, Tenna's left hand slipped under the shirt to brush fingers against the light, static-like fuzz of Spamton's skin. The action, as expected, made the Addison shiver, but it also had Spamton suddenly break the kiss and pull back.

"Is everything alright, Snow? I’m sorry, I forgot about the healed cuts on your back..." Worry rang clear in Tenna's voice. When Spamton tugged Tenna's left arm, he moved it and allowed Spamton to guide it to rest on the right thigh, mirroring his other hand. With all four hands in sight, Tenna was quick to conclude that Spamton was reflecting on the events of the day once more as a way to distract from the brief sting.

In reality, Spamton had been struck with the heavy realisation that this was the moment Rose had told him about.

"That day, in my dressing room… I thought you hated me. I thought - I thought that you were using the contract as a way to break up with me in a way that would pin the blame fully on me. You knew that I didn't want to be 'trapped'." As much as Tenna wanted to object, Spamton's expression told him that there was more that needed to be said. "But when everything went to shit minutes later, you ran after me. You stayed with me. You were there. You saved my life and gave me back my freedom. I never thought I would have that again..."

Pink eyes stayed on Tenna's left hand. He was used to seeing it without a glove, but now it looked so bare without a ring. Would Tenna even like it, or would he be annoyed to not have a say in its design?

"I still don't know what I did to deserve you. Why me? Why was I the random nobody Addison that caught your attention years ago? Why were you not charmed by one of the other Addisons, or a higher-ranked Darkner? How did I manage to make you love me when I had no value compared to my peers?" A sigh gave him a moment to take a breath. "How can you still love me after everything I've put you through this week? How can you care when you know my success was a lie? But… Here you are, even when I'm back to being just the email guy."

"That's all I ever wanted, Snow."

Tenna's interruption made Spamton's head shoot up in surprise. A smile appeared on the shorter Darkner's face. "That day… There's something else I remember about that contract. You mentioned your ratings like you thought I would leave if they dropped -"

"I should have said something instead of what I did…"

"And I know what to do." Now, it was Spamton's turn to give a look of reassurance. "Let me offer you a contract instead, and I can give you a way to remind yourself that I will always be with you."

Confused by the offer, Tenna didn’t ask for clarification. Instead, he opted to stay quiet as Spamton slipped off his lap to kneel on the bed directly in front of him.

With a wave of his hand, Spamton manifested an off-white screen. The server was only beginning the overnight update, but that wasn't what he wanted. A tap shifted it into his inventory. Then, he swiped the screen six times until he landed on the page with one item stored by itself. A pink, shoe-shaped box that fit in his hand was pulled out. Once the screen disappeared, his eyes returned to Tenna.

"Tenna, I…. Being with you has made me a better Darkner, and this week has really helped me see that. I want nothing more than to be able to stay with you. When I thought I was dead, you were the first thing I saw. You are my Heaven, and I would be a fool to leave that." 

The box was pressed against his waist so he could click it open before lifting it to his eye level. Inside, the golden ring with silver stars sparkled for Tenna to see.

The host's body had a ripple of electricity shoot up his spine as he belatedly realised what was happening. "S-Snow…?"

"Ant Tenna, will you marry me?"

"E-even after everything I did this week?"

"Do you love me after learning my success was a scam?"

"Of course, but -"

"But why can't I be allowed to love you? I love all of you: the happy and the sad, the sleepy and the angry, the groovy and the glooby. I want to see every good and bad day through together." As Spamton spoke, Tenna began to tremble. Emotions were swirling in his chest. This felt like a dream. A moment shared between them, with no audience to perform to, a piece of Tenna that didn't need to be broadcast for all to see… It was magical.

"Ant, please… Marry me."

"YES!" With a joyous shout, Tenna's excitement finally got the better of him as he shot up to his true height with such speed that Spamton was knocked backward. The former salesman laughed as he heaved himself up to get the ring out of the box and put it on Tenna's finger. The moment it reached the base of his finger, a large, vibrant flower blossomed from Tenna's nose.

"Oh, Spamton…. My precious Snowdrop…" Tenna was still shaking from the rush of emotions, but he forced himself to shrink back down to his Cyber City height. "There's nothing I want more than this. I've wanted to marry you and start a family of our own together for such a long time, b-but I knew you weren't ready to consider it but I… I…" Words failed the chatty showman as he swallowed. "I love you, I love you. I love you."

"I love you too, future husband."

Two new words were enough to fuel Tenna with a bubbling, merry energy. He pulled Spamton into his arms for a hug with such intensity that the pair toppled over sideways and crashed onto the bed. Laughter rang out before they shared another kiss.

"I love you so much, Snow. My fiancé…" Tenna giggled at the chance to finally use that title as he began to pepper Spamton's face in light kisses. Then, as he finally felt the first wave of giddiness of the moment wear off, he rolled onto his back and carefully positioned Spamton to rest with his back against the host’s chest. From here, Tenna could lift his left hand to allow both of them to properly examine the ring under the light.

"This ring… It's beautiful. I love the inclusion of stars. They look stunning in silver..."

"Don't they? Gold and silver make quite the team, just like you and me. Just like it will always be." Spamton idly pulled Tenna's right arm closer as a subtle hint to hold him tighter. Before that happened, Tenna carefully plucked the flower off his nose and nestled it in Spamton's hair.

"Just like it will always be…" Tenna repeated in a murmur. He gently lifted Spamton's left hand to examine it. "And we will get you a ring to match."

"I don't think that's how it works?"

"But I want you to have the reminder that I will always be there for you too. That box is the branding for your brother's work, right? Maybe we could commission Rose to make a silver ring with golden stars on it once we're home. I bet it would be perfect for you…" His thumb reached around and began idly brushing the base of Spamton's ring finger.

A breath caught in Spamton's throat.

"I can feel that."

"W-what??" Tenna impulsively brought the hand up to his screen to kiss the same spot.

"That t-too. I… I felt it."

Another flower was quick to bloom on the tip of Tenna's nose. This time, Spamton turned in the hold to hug his partner as best he could.

"I can't wait to hug you with both arms on our wedding day."

Tenna and Spamton flinched at how quickly the lights in the Green Room turned on the moment they walked through the door. The cast and crew had squeezed in to make it a proper 'welcome home' party to celebrate the return of Spamton after an accident.

The temporarily blinded Addison had been pushed onto a small platform so he could give a speech and announce that he would be staying full-time in the Studio. He couldn't pretend that the excited reaction to the news didn't tug at his heart strings. Somehow, despite the mess he had been tied up in, he had really found a place all his own.

"Now then, let's start this party!" Tenna, as always, raised both hands when making an announcement. This only served to catch attention. Tenna never forgot to wear his gloves. 

Lanino stepped forward, squinting as he looked up. "Tenna… Is that a ring?"

Tenna - who had already gotten used to the idea of being Spamton’s husband-to-be that he had overlooked the fact that no one knew - felt his screen heat up with a blush as everyone in the room reached the same conclusion:

"You two got ENGAGED???"

The event quickly shifted to encompass an engagement party. It was a much-needed relief, as the positive news took attention away from how they nearly lost Spamton and instead focused on the fact that there would one day be a beautiful wedding in the Studio. The couple were asked about the build-up, whether it was planned, how much did Tenna know before the moment happened, and all the other exciting developments to their boss' love story.

Eventually, Elnina had to step in and push Spamton aside to give him an excuse to take a break from being the centre of attention. Much like her colleagues, she too was excited to hear that Spamton had finally overcome his fear of rejection and made the next step in his relationship official. She correctly guessed that the jewellery order that she had been there for the delivery of was the ring, which explained why he had been so secretive about it. Her question of who the jeweller was brought with it a rush of joy when she learned that Spamton had finally reconciled with his brother and apologised for what had happened. Elnina’s silver lining to her raincloud kept the pair on brighter topics and far away from how Spamton nearly didn't have the chance to propose at all. There was a wedding to plan for, and ideas on how Spamton's brother and closest friends could travel over to attend.

The ideas warmed something in Spamton's chest, but a moment of realisation sank in.

"Would you excuse me for a few minutes, Els? Doctor said that I need to try and take quiet sitting breaks." 

"Sure! Don't be gone too long, okay? The Shadowguys have their concert coming up."

Somewhere in Cyber City, a phone rang.

Somewhere in Cyber City, someone answered it.

The door to his dressing room clicked shut behind him. A sigh slipped out as he crossed the room to curl up on the couch. The break from the crowd really was needed - he could really feel his energy sapping. Taking some time away would help a lot. But that wasn't the only reason he stepped away from the party. With everyone knowing the 'truth' about what happened, and the news of his engagement had broken, there was one more Darkner who needed to hear the news.

Once he was settled on the couch, he closed his eyes and took a slow, deep breath. The mental wall that he had built up was finally lowered. Too much happened over the last few days, but now… He was safe. They all were. It was time.

"Angel? Are you awake?"

Spamton put out his hand just as the green sparkles appeared. With a poof, a six-inch tall, angelic version of Spamton bounced on his palm before shooting up toward his left arm that was still neatly tied up in a scarf-sling.

<dad!! ur arm! wat happened?? ur hurt!!> Angel's little hands pressed against the top of the shoulder to use its healing magic.

"Hey, hey, don't burn your energy. You won’t be able to heal this. It's okay, I’m okay."

<no its not! ur not okay!! ur hurt…>

"It's disconnected, not hurt. I can’t feel anything right now. The doctor said my arm will be better after some rest. I need to give it time to reconnect by itself. He was very happy to let me go home."

<home?> Fluttering back to Spamton' open hand, Angel landed and sat down. It opened its mouth, only to snap it closed. Then, on reflection, it slowly looked around. This was definitely the dressing room that its dad worked in. <but we r home>

"That's right, yes, but, well… A lot happened over the last few days. I had to go back to Cyber City earlier this week, and while there… I was zapped by the phone when I tried to answer it."

<it zapped u?> it gasped, <i didnt no it had magic! its so mean!>

"No, no, it doesn't. It's just a phone, and it was an accident, not an attack." Spamton couldn't stop an endeared smile from spreading on his face. "There was a power surge of some sort. When I picked up the phone, I was electrocuted. That’s why my arm isn’t working right now... Angel, how is your left arm? Does it hurt? Can you feel it?"

The summon frowned as it lifted both arms. The right and the left were shaken without any strain. Then, it patted the left arm with its right hand. <its ok. i can feel n move it>

"Thank Heavens… I was worried that you would be hurt too. I never would have forgiven myself if that happened…" Spamton would need to do a second check later when there wasn’t a sleeve in the way, just in case there were any cosmetic changes that he would need to be aware of. The emotions that had been felt the previous day in Spamton's suite flooded him once more as he lifted his hand to bring Angel to his chest in a hug. "I missed you, Angel. I love you so much."

Though it was confused, it hugged back. <i luv u 2 dad>

“And I’m so proud of you. I don’t tell you that enough. You’ve grown up to be the smartest little Darkner I’ve ever known. There’s no one like you in all the Dark Worlds.” His thumb slowly rubbed the back of Angel’s head. “And after everything that happened to me this week… I want to work hard to be the Dad you deserve.”

<but u r de best dad?> A sniff overhead made Angel squeeze out of its dad’s hold and flutter into the air until it was able to look at Spamton’s face. <dad? u ok? r u hurt nywere else?>

“No, no… I’m fine. I just realise how lucky I am to have you in my life. I don’t know what I’d do without you, kid.” A comment that was supposed to be left open-ended was instead answered by the sensation of tiny hands patting under his left eye, then his right, in an attempt to dry the tears that had slipped out. 

<i dont wanna go nywere without u dad. ill always b here>

Spamton’s hand carefully scooped Angel up to help him place a kiss on the top of its head. “I’m glad to hear that, because there’s some really important things to tell you... Like how we are not going anywhere. We’re gonna stay here with Pop, all the time.”

<all de time? really??> Angel’s voice shot up half an octave in excitement, zipping around in small circles. <we get 2 stay with pop!! i always wanted us 2 do dat!>

“And you and I will have so many days out together, even if Pop’s working.”

That made the summon screech to a halt. <but wat bout big shot?>

“I’ve retired. I sold Big Shot Autos. I’m just the email guy again. No more work trips, no more big parties, no more meetings -”

<no more fone!> The summon’s attention quickly turned to the abandoned phone on a small table across from the couch. It took off and hovered in front of it. Though its back was to Spamton, he was sure he heard Angel blowing a raspberry at the device. It was no secret that Angel had grown to dislike the phone the longer Spamton worked with the Benefactor, even if it didn’t know the truth. Then again, Spamton couldn't blame it. The Benefactor took up a lot of his free time, which in turn impacted the things that father and child could do together.

“Angel!” Spamton laughed, “Come back over here! There’s something else really important I want to tell you.” Once Angel had returned and landed on the palm of Spamton’s open hand, he took a slow breath. “Now then… You know how I love your Pop?”

<ye>

“And I just told you that we’re moving in to stay here all the time?”

<ye>

“Well… Last night, I asked him to marry me - and he said ‘yes’.”

There was a pause. Angel’s head tilted to the side. <wats a marry?>

Spamton snickered. He should have anticipated that Angel wouldn’t understand the word. “Well, if he marries me, we get to have a wedding.”

That word was one Angel recognised, who dinged in excitement. <u 2 r gonna b 2geter 4eva n 4eva??>

“That is the hope, yes. But the wedding won’t happen for -” In a blink, Angel had disappeared. Spamton laughed and pulled himself off the couch. “Guess I gotta go find it.”

<pop! pop!!!>

The host turned from the cups he had poured at the juice table in time for Angel to crash into his screen with arms spread out in an attempt at a hug.

“There’s my little shooting star! I didn’t think I’d see you today!” With his right index finger and thumb, Tenna carefully lifted the summon who was smaller than the palm of his hand to hold it close. “I missed you!”

<i missed u 2! dad sed u n him r havin a weddin!>

“Yes! We will be! Your Dad and I will be getting married one day! Look, he gave me an engagement ring.” The left hand was lifted to allow Angel to move closer and examine it. “This ring is his promise that he wants to be with me and that he loves me an awful lot. And when we have our wedding, we’ll share new rings that say that we will stay together.”

As it listened, Angel gently pressed a hand against one of the stars embedded on the ring. <pop? does dis mean ull be my real pop now?>

“Yes... I’ll be your real Pop. We’ll be a real family at last.”

Once more overcome with excitement, Angel hugged Tenna’s ring finger as hard as it could. <i always wanted dat 4 4eva! i luv u pop!>

“I love you too, Angel. I love you more than all the stars in the sky.” With enough time spent with such a tiny summon, Tenna knew he could press the tip of his nose against Angel’s back in a gentle way to return the affection.

In his peripheral vision, Tenna watched Spamton approach and offered a hand for Spamton to take. 

With no more strings threatening to pull everything apart, a family could finally look to the future for the first time. There would still be challenges ahead of them, but there was nothing that they couldn’t face together.