Chapter Text
The heels of his leather shoes tapped against the hardwood floor with wariness. Being careful and collected wasn’t much like him – not much like the version of him that he built himself to be, anyway, but he had accepted that he had lost the battle; he would never get back to being “a big shot”, he would never get back to his prime and he couldn’t even live the prestige of inhabiting someone’s loving memories. Tenna doesn’t remember him. His forever partner doesn’t remember him and it caves a hollow feeling in his chest in a way that, back when he felt the high of being at the top of the world, he swore he wouldn’t feel again. But there it was.
So when he escaped and decided to walk aimlessly through the empty backrooms of this enormous studio, he set himself on the search for something unattainable. He wants to see him again, he wants to hear his voice again even if that’s the last thing he listens to before turning to stone. Even if this last thing is him being reminded once again of how irrelevant he has become.
Somewhere else, Kris taps their pocket and doesn’t feel the outline of a pair of glasses anymore.
…..
….
…
He makes his way to the empty stage, behind the closed thick velvet red curtains. It's late, there won’t be any shows for the next couple hours and no one will come. He takes a moment to take it in; Lifts his glasses to his hair, rubs his eyes and temples, takes a deep sigh. Even back in Cyber City, there weren’t many screens as large as this one, made to measure to make the egregiously tall host seem proportionate to the rest of the surroundings. And he owns the space every time. God, his mind makes everything about him and he hates it. He hates it because it makes the engulfing guilt inside of him coil an evergrowing, ever uncomfortable knot in his stomach. He crosses his arms, hugging his own small frame, and stares at the enormous black shiny screen. His deformed reflection stares him back – he can almost hear it inquiring him about what the hell he was thinking to come to this place. And he wouldn’t know how to answer that.
The silence was broken by heavy but calm steps. Spamton froze. But why, isn’t that exactly what he wanted? Isn’t this exactly who he wanted? His shoulders stiffen and he stays planted with his back turned to the direction of the sound. He doesn’t want to look at him even though, well, that is all he could ever want now.
— Uh… Hello?
No response.
— Uhm… I’m sorry. I don’t recall seeing you around the studio before, so I suppose you came here to watch the show… But we won’t be airing until a couple hours from now… I thought I had asked Ramb to start closing the doors after hours but maybe he forgot, I should ask Mike… Ahem- Feel welcome to come by later! It’ll be a pleasure to give you a fun time! Hah.
Still nothing. Tenna swallowed dry, starting to feel uneasy. Who the hell is that anyway? Who would be interested in barging through his empty stage after hours to stare at the big black screen of nothing? The big stage of the program no one has been too keen on watching for quite some time now. The lightners brought an unexpected and ironic light to the place, sure, bringing the crowd back even if it was out of pure curiosity or a morbid wish to see them suffer – Well, there was another known program with a known host for that purpose, anyway – Tenna didn’t plan on torturing them. The physical challenges were supposed to be fun and tricky, is all. Even then, when the trio wasn’t around, the crowd dissipated again. So who was that, and what do they want here?
Spamton took a slow turn of his heels, turning his face back first, then his body. No pasty smile this time. He just stared at the other, expression unreadable, clutching his own forearms even tighter. He hates his height but he wishes he could become even smaller and disappear right now.
— ...You.
Tenna’s voice sounded unusually quiet, free of the TV host bravado entirely. He furrowed his pixelated eyebrows and straightened his lips, crossing his arms himself, lightly tilting his screen.
— It was you back then, messing with my wardrobe, trying to tell me things that I don’t understand. And it’s you again. Who are you? And why are you getting into my business? I know all my employees, and you don’t fit in at all. What do you want from me?
He couldn’t pinpoint what, but something about this darkner unsettled him. He wasn't usually this… Rude? Straightforward? But this situation felt weird.
— I’m sorry.
A beat. No, why would this happen?
— I know you probably never wanted to see me again, I know I look unrecognizable, but if you give me a chance I can try to explain things…
Tenna’s expression widened. His lips turned into a frown, his screen slightly statickier. Oh, he was livid. With those stupid half rose tinted glasses off the way from the stranger’s face, he could finally see it. It’s him, the one person he wished to never come across again, the one person who had taken him so long to come to terms with the fact that he was gone. And now he’s not?
— Why would you come here? – The first sentence came with angry confidence, but was quickly followed by a twitchy, broken-ish, lower tone – Do you just want to see me suffer more?
Spamton’s brow furrowed, his eyes filled with worry and guilt. His form allowed him far more expressions than the TV screen could have, but he knew him and knew that this body language conveyed straight up pain, and it strangled him. Tenna hugged his own shoulders tightly much like the smaller man did, crinkling the smooth vinyl of his red jacket, screen facing the side. He almost felt like he had physically shrunk.
— I know I don’t belong here anymore. But, please, if you let me, I want to tell you something. Some-things.
Tenna doesn’t recall the last time Spamton ever said sorry, or please. This was different, and it scared him. He was clearly different, both in appearance and manners, and he can’t help but wonder what caused this. He can’t help but wonder what happened in all those years after he left him to fend for himself. And he hates to accept that he’s curious. Concerned. He hates to notice how his engine powered metallic “heart” quickened its pace in worry, hammered his steel casing and choked his voice box.
Spamton was trying so, so hard to not let that infuriating quirk of his slip and screw up this whole exchange that he could feel his body shake. He didn’t want to startle Tenna even more, to become even more incomprehensible, he needed this to work. He needed this chance.
— So, please- [PLEASE, PLEASE, LET ME GET WHAT I WANT]
He clamped his mouth shut, eyes wide. What?
— I’m [SORRY THAT I’M MISBEHAVING]. Ugh-
— What is going on??
Tenna was so confused that he almost forgot how resentful he was just moments ago. For some reason Spamton’s voice was changing pitch and intonation every second as if someone was switching the channels or radio stations. How and why was this happening?
Against his better judgement, Tenna took a couple steps and sat on the raised floor platform edge. He gestured for the other darkner to do the same, and to go on with his so wished explanation.
— So what do you want to tell me?
Spamton let out a sigh of relief and took his seat, a couple meters away from the host. He rested his elbows on his knees and his face on his hands, gathering the courage to start. Where does he even start? A couple silent minutes pass by.
— I never meant to [LEAVE YOUR CRAPPY JOB NOW!] you behind. Especially not on that night.
Oh, that night. He went straight to where it hurts most, now there was no coming back. He either comes out of this lucky, or even more despised. Tenna winces, staring at a random wood heart on the floor planks. His antennas were plugged in, attentive.
— My mistake was not telling you everything, of course I should have, even a lover of surprise gifts should tell his partner about a possible life changing promotion! But I tried to keep it [NOBODY KNOWS IT, BUT YOU GOT A SECRET SMILE AND YOU USE IT ONLY FOR ME] instead. I just wanted to see that glimmer on your screen when I finally told you so bad. I loved to make you happy, I loved to see your big smile more than anything else. You were my darling.
There goes the inherently modern mailman with his simulated old-timey charm which he reserved for him and him only. It certainly didn’t come with his nature, being derived from an incredibly frivolous current age problem, spam emails, misplaced in a TV World. He wasn’t even sure what an email was, but he knew it was new – for sure newer than a CRT. He always said he didn’t have to worry his head about this. As badly as Tenna wished he could say this was all manipulative, that he was bringing up all of those things just to make him fold, he could feel that he was being honest. And that made it all worse, somehow.
— When that man called me I saw a chance of making us [SHINE BRIGHT LIKE A DIAMOND] forever, bright, brighter than TV could ever make us! He told me those things, made me believe in the unbelievable, made me believe that he could make us desirable for the public. I should have never worried about that sort of thing, I should have realized earlier that all we needed was each other. He told me that shrinking my potential to only being a TV host was a [I’M NOT GONNA WASTE MY TIME IF I CAN’T BE BY YOUR SIDE] of time, that if I embraced what I truly am I could make myself known by the entire world… Why would I want that? No one likes spam emails, Tenna – contrary to the salesman channel, no one chooses to watch spam. No one enjoyed seeing my [EYES WITHOUT A FACE] plastered on the billboards of Cyber City. No one likes to see me at their door other than you, and I managed to make you not even like it anymore.
Tenna’s system was working overtime trying to wrap his head around what Spamton was trying to say, while simultaneously being flooded by all the declarations he spilled along his lines. This had to be on purpose, hadn't it? Even if it was genuine.
— I know you prefer things to be [LITERAL LEGEND!]. I’m sorry for [DANCING WITH MYSELF] around the subject, I’m only doing that because even [ME, MYSELF AND I] not sure what he offered me. He called me for weeks straight before I left and when he called me, it was like a trance – it was like the words got directly to my brain and altered its workings from the inside out. He told me that in order to [MAKE A DEAL WITH GOD], I just had to go back to Cyber City and [MEET ME IN THE PALE MOONLIGHT] him. I hesitated, because it was your birthday, but I did go. All I wanted was to get that [BIG JUICY] deal, get back to you and secure us forever! How could there be any gift more worthy than this? Just a quick signing and we wouldn’t even have to work again a day in our lives, if you agreed. So I met him at the border of the Acid Tunnel.
Tenna stared in his direction attentively, brows furrowed. Expecting, waiting for something that would justify all of this. He saw Spamton lower his glasses back down, and for a moment it seemed as if its lenses became staticky. His voice dragged.
— He wasn’t where he told me to meet him. I was there, and all I could see was a shadowy figure all the way across the river. It extended its hand, and in my stupor, I assumed I could reach it from where I stood. Of course I couldn’t.
Deep sigh.
— I fell in the acid and it burned me entirely, and while it ate through my skin and hardware all I could think of was how I was going to die alone. I’ll die, and Tenna will never know why I even left. And although I’m alive, which is by itself debatable, that’s exactly what happened, isn’t it?
All the taller man could do was stare in disbelief, and wait for even more disconcerting things to come off of the other’s mouth.
— Swatch, the queen’s butler, was doing his daily walk around the city to ensure things are going swiftly when he found me. He had to “fish me” out of the acid, I was barely still whole, he had to reconstruct me with the other palace employees’ help. They did their best, but their best could only be so much, and I ended up smaller than I originally was. My body hurts constantly, I creak with every step which my gears grind together under this puppet ball jointed silicone skin, I look beat-up, of course, I could never be the same. I’ll never look pristine like the other Addisons again. My hair is different, my voice is too. It 's like…
He looked lost in thought, searching for the right words to say what he wanted to say, head tilted to the side, hands gesturing vaguely.
— It’s like the acid fused me permanently with the Cyber World. Every time I get nervous, [SO ANXIOUS], excited even, anything, I get those speech quirks – like I am constantly tuned to the internet in its entirety, spewing a stream of every piece of audio present there, uncontrollably. These audio files merge with my voice and replace the ideas that I’m trying to get across, making me indecipherable sometimes. There are even times where I end up quoting commercial breaks from our channel, even if those aren’t on the internet. Just by memory. I [REALLY HATE YOU, STOP GETTING IN MY WAY] it, I hate it a lot, but if I try to hold it my body hurts even more. When I realized I couldn’t come back to this world anymore, I tried to be part of the other. The Addisons didn’t [TELL ME BABY, DO YOU RECOGNIZE ME?] anymore and I’ll admit, that part hurt a lot, even if I was from a different world they were still the only kind of “family”? I could say I had. So since I couldn’t be an Addison anymore, I tried to “emulate” Swatch’s style. Needless to say I became a joke. I kept it because the glasses help, [I TRY TO LOOK UP TO THE SKY BUT MY EYES BURN].
Tenna shifted uncomfortably.
— I tried to continue being a salesman, even! With the very little amount of money that I managed to get, I paid sponsorships for myself. But that only served to annoy people more. I tried opening up a store, but the location wasn't very favorable… [*BUT NOBODY CAME]. I decided to live in the trash, the only place that wouldn’t charge me rent. Although the man never called me again, it was like I could still hear him inside my mind, whispering how much of a failure I was, that I couldn’t even close a deal if my life depended on it. There was nothing left for me anymore. I went [INSANE IN THE MEMBRANE, INSANE IN THE BRAIN!]
— So how did you manage to come here?
The other finally said something. Spamton’s posture perked up at the slightest showcase of interest coming from him, smiled a little, even, opening up his arms.
— Well, that’s when the [COME ON BABY, LIGHT MY FIRE] inside my tunnel appeared! The lightners. — He looked up, apparently remembering the events clearly — The other ones were too scared to come to my shop, but Kris has something weird about them, I don’t know, I resonate with it. Back when I was under Swatch’s care I ended up finding out about a scrapped project of his… A MASSIVE functioning robot in the basement, left to rot like myself, how fitting! I [COULD NOT BELIEVE YOUR EYES]. All it needed was someone’s essence. And in my fit of insanity, I thought, if a darkner’s essence could bring it to life, a lightners SOUL could bring it FURTHER! Wherever FURTHER is, anyway… I managed to convince Kris to help me. They didn’t know what my real plan was, they didn’t know I wanted their [Heart Shaped Object]. I guess I tried doing to them the same thing the man on the phone did to me.
Tenna wrapped his arms around his knees and brought them together, resting his screen on them. This entire thing was utterly miserable, but it’s like a car crash. He really wants to know what happens next.
— Then what?
Spamton stared at Tenna directly.
— I [SACRIFICE! I’D SACRIFICE MYSELF TO YOU] and inserted my essence in a hard drive. I decided this would be the last thing that I try, even if it kills me.
Just the mention of him dying was enough to make Tenna shudder.
— Lucky me, for some reason, Kris actually kept up their promise. Next thing I knew I was in it. At first it was terrible; Old, clunky, entirely rusted, I knew I was there but I had a hard time integrating fully, I couldn’t even move, see or speak for the first minutes. They even thought that they did all this hard work of taking me there for nothing, they kicked, slammed me in frustration.
The TV winced. That didn’t sound like Kris at all, but simultaneously, he didn’t have trouble believing that they had actually done that. What happened to them to make them become this resentful, violent teen? He aches with worry.
— But when I finally recollected myself… Oh — He palmed his forehead, shaking his head, smiling to himself — It felt so nice. [JESUS CHRIST (Deny Your Maker)], I was finally myself! I was already used to being malfunctioning, obviously, so it wasn't hard getting used to that, and there I had it… I was big, LARGER THAN LIFE! You had to see it, Tenna, I was taller than you!!
His genuine excitement in not being himself was depressing, but simultaneously so contagious Tenna couldn’t help but imagine this tall, towering, full of confidence version of Spamton and he hated to notice how the idea brought a rosy tint to his screen. He kept gesturing with his hands, trying to showcase how insane it was, circling them within themselves with each new feature he mentioned.
— I had armor, I had WINGS! Although, the only problem was… — His glasses went back to being static — I had [MASTER OF PUPPETS, I’M PULLING YOUR STRINGS]. Even though I was this newfound force of pure technology and brute force, I was still not much more than a puppet, and it boiled my blood. I thought to myself, can I never leave this hell?
He lowered his head and ran his hands through his hair, holding a bunch in the nape of his neck. Deep breath.
— Which is why I needed a soul. I was obsessed, I had to have this! But when I cornered Kris, their friends quickly came to help them. I wish I had this determination, better yet, I wish I had a [WON’T YOU COME AND SAVE ME?] too. I convinced myself that maybe the strings were what’s keeping me from being free, maybe I didn’t even need a soul! So I encouraged them to rupture the strings. In my sick fantasy, the closer I was to lose, the closer I was to win. Needless to say, I didn’t. When all of the wires were loose, my body fell limp to the floor. I was done with. You know how darkners work, we very rarely actually die so I could just go back to my old self, but I didn’t feel like it. I didn’t feel like there was a purpose in trying anymore, I didn't want to feel the shame and disconnection of being this pathetic body again. I left them my glasses, which Kris pocketed, and for a while I stayed there, thinking it would be this way forever.
Tenna started connecting the dots himself.
— Kris doesn’t know there's a hole in their armor’s left pocket.
The sentence sounded funny like this, especially because he was realizing how dumbly all of this came about. It took a nasally laugh out of him.
— When my glasses fell off from their pocket, I recognized where I was and I couldn’t believe it. Well, you already know how that went.
Tenna felt embarrassed remembering how the situation unfolded, but he couldn’t blame himself – no one was supposed to be back there and he actually, genuinely didn’t recognize him. He scared the witts out of him!
— I told Kris I would never do anything like that again, and went back to their pocket. But you not recognizing me hurt me more than being in this fucked up body again does, and you know how I’m a try-hard. I had to see you, and I had to have you see me too.
Three minutes of complete silence. The regret of saying all of this, of even coming here in the first place was kicking in for Spamton, and he swallowed dry. He actually had no chance at all, didn’t he?
But Tenna finally did something. A chuckle. He raised his screen from his knees, lowering his legs and slapping them. His expression was unreadable.
— I mourned you. — He looked at Spamton. — I felt every kind of pain, bargain and anger one has to go through, and you were alive all along! Couldn't you have used the same phone that this man used to call you, to call me instead?? To ask me if I could perhaps try to come and save you, as you put yourself, even if I couldn’t? Even if I don’t have the power to transverse the worlds like you used to, even when you know I’m stuck in this studio forever?
He sounded broken. His speakers emitted a consistent humming sound, making his voice scratchier than usual. He punched the wooden stage under himself, startling the other man.
— You left me because of your greed. You left me to rot, you left me clueless about all this technology thing, stuck in the past, because you claimed I’d never have to worry about it. Had you teached me, maybe I could have called you myself! Maybe I could have emailed you, even, hah, what about that? …Why did you leave me here, Spamton?
Hearing his name come out of Tenna’s voice box for the first time in all those years shook him to his core. It hurt, and it hurts even more to know that all of this is his equivalent of crying, something that he can’t actually do.
— I-
— You left me, they left me, one by one until I got shut off and dusty for years. The lightners are gonna leave me too, aren’t they? Lack of being used also ruins things, did you know that?
Spamton stared ahead at the thick red velvet, lost in thought, with nothing worthy to say that would appease Tenna. Even more silent minutes went past, he started to worry that nothing he did could fix this.
— I’m sorry, I genuinely am-
His string of excuses got interrupted when Tenna got up on his feet suddenly in a swift motion. Just when he thought he was gonna leave, he directed his steps towards him, almost marching his way to the other. He stopped in front of him, Spamton had to crane his neck upwards to face him.
— Tell me if this hurts.
Spamton flinched and closed his eyes. The entire build up made it seem like he was gonna be beat to a pulp, and he told himself that even if that was what was gonna happen, he deserved it. But of course, of course this was a stupid concern. Tenna was the most gentle darkner a fountain could ever produce, and as the public gets his nonchalant self, his caring hands were reserved only for him. Caring hands that went unused for so long… But not anymore. When the pain didn’t come, he felt two large hands wrap under his shoulders and lift him from the floor as if he weighed nothing – not that he was heavy, not at all, but he wasn’t feather-weight either – followed by being dropped slowly again. Tenna had sit back down on the edge of the stage, but this time with Spamton on his lap, and he hugged him so tightly he worried his frail thin steel bones would crack, but he wouldn’t even be able to complain if that happened. His heart hammered in his chest so quickly that he could feel his heartbeat in his throat. As Tenna held him so tightly that his claws, that are normally hidden under the padded gloves, were bunching the fabric of the back of his suit, he wrapped his legs around him and hid his face on his shoulder, after taking his glasses off and dropping them by their side on the floor.
— I missed you so much, angel.