Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Swatch was closing the café for the evening, after their final customers had left. They would usually let all the Swatchlings go home once business had died down for the afternoon and the kitchen was closed. However, that meant that it was left up to Swatch themself to finish tidying up for the day and take out the final trash bags to the dumpster.

Not that they minded that much, they took pride in taking full responsibility for the smooth running of their establishment, just like they had when they were head butler at Queen’s mansion. But in this new dark world they now served customers rather than a monarch and her guests, though she did pay the café a visit from time to time, the small round master bouncing around her ankles.

Swatch had just carefully opened the back door, trash bag held in one wing prepared to be thrown in the dumpster that sat against the back wall of the building, when they were startled by a sharp metallic crashing sound. Swatch froze for a moment as they were hit by feelings of strange familiarity. This sort of thing had happened to them a few times before, back when they served in the mansion.

Swatch would be taking the trash out to the dumpsters in the alleyway when they heard crashing sounds near the bins and then something skittering away. Or sometimes they caught the litter blighter, holding the puppet up by the back of his shirt as he struggled feebly. Swatch would chastise the tiny salesman for the umpteenth time before placing him out on the street and shooing him away. It never seemed to dissuade him though.

But this couldn’t be the salesman, right? Kris had told Swatch about what happened in the basement of Queen’s mansion, that they had defeated the machine containing his soul. Though they had been a bit vague about what happened afterwards, something about getting the copycat’s shades? It seemed highly unlikely he could be here.

Swatch still let out a sigh, and stepped out of the building, walking up to the dumpster. The lid was shut, and they hadn’t heard any further noises since the original crashing sound. Setting their face impassively and preparing for the worst, Swatch lifted the lid of the bin.

Inside, a tiny figure was crouched on top of the garbage bags with their back to Swatch, rummaging through a bag they had torn into. The sudden light caused the figure to suddenly freeze up, before quickly glancing behind them with an expression of surprise.

“WOAH!! [[Hot Singles In My Area]]?!?!” Spamton quickly burst out, scrambling backwards against the rear wall of the dumpster, eyeing Swatch anxiously. The strange puppet looked the same as always, except without his Swatch style knock-off glasses.

Swatch couldn’t help but chuckle slightly at what Spamton had said, quickly covering their mouth with their free wing to try and hide their mirth. They should by all rights be annoyed to see the salesman back at his old antics again, but instead felt the very strange sensation of relief. As if Swatch was glad to see that Spamton had survived the destruction of the cyber world. They didn’t want to admit that though, not even to themself.

Spamton took Swatch’s silence as a chance to stand up and compose himself, brushing some of the dirt off his torn black jacket. Though even standing on top of garbage in a dumpster, he still only level with Swatch’s chest, so the bird was still looking down at him. “WH4T ARE YOU DOING [[All Alone On A Late Night?]]” Spamton asked, though his usual confidence seemed somewhat diminished.

“What are YOU doing in my garbage again, Spamton?” Swatch retorted wearily. “If you are looking to try and sneak into Queen’s mansion again, well, she lives over in that castle now.” Swatch pointed to the castle in the middle of town.

Spamton glanced away with a small frown. “I HAVE [[Nowhere to go on a Friday Night?]].” He started climbing out of the trash, up onto the closed lid of the other half of the dumpster. This put him at nearly eye level with Swatch now. Swatch now noticed that they had been wrong in their initial assessment of Spamton being unchanged, he did look more dishevelled than ever, rather pathetic really.

“But everyone has gotten new homes in this town,” Swatch said in confusion, gently placing the trash bag down in the bin on top of the others now that the puppet was out of the way.

Spamton shrugged. “I WASn’T OFFERED A [Luxury Pent house Apartment] LIKE ALL THE OTH3R [Little Sponges].” He didn’t seem particularly upset about it though.

“So, you are back to living in the garbage?” Swatch asked, though without any intended malice.

“I’VE BEEN TAKING A [Ride Around Town] TO CHECK OUT THE [[A-maz-ing Real Estate Options!]],” Spamton said indignantly, crossing his arms over his chest. “THIS 1 HERE IS 1 [Hell of a Deal]    , CLOSE TO ALL THE AMENITIES AND BEST OF ALL, BEST OF ALL! [[Free Samples!!!]].”

“You’ve been… eating what we throw away?” Swatch tried to keep the look of disgust from creeping onto their face. Spamton shot them a burning look, a mix of anger and shame. “What about your brothers?” Swatch quickly asked after a moment of thought, remembering the Addisons.

“HA! YOU THINK THEY CARE AB04T MY PATHETIC [[$4.99]] LIFE?!” Spamton gave a short manic laugh. “NO, THEY [[Abandoned me for the slime]] A LONG TIME AGO.”

Swatch cocked their head to the side, unable to help but look at the small man with pity. When they were the head butler of the mansion, they had been clearly instructed by Queen to keep Spamton out. However, they were under no such obligation now with their own business.

“Would you like come inside? Have a hot cocoa?” Swatch offered softly with a small smile.

A look of utter confusion overtook Spamton’s face. He blinked up at Swatch rapidly with disbelief. “YOU WANT TO MAKE A [Deal]??? I HAVE [0] KROMER LEFT, AND                  LEFT TO [[Trade Now!]].”

Swatch shook their head, their smile falling away. “No, this is… a free sample.”

Spamton looked like he was struggling to compute the situation again, his eyes looking blank. As Swatch lowered half the dumpster lid back down to cover the garbage, Spamton had stepped towards the edge of the bin lid he was standing on, looking down at the ground. He then knelt, putting his short leg over the edge as he was about to try and scramble down the side of the dumpster.

Swatch quickly reached out and grabbed Spamton around his torso when he was about to fall. This caused the puppet to freeze up. Swatch gently lifted the salesman down to the ground, setting him down on his short legs. Spamton stood still staring blankly ahead as Swatch walked around him to the door, opening it and gesturing inside with a wing.

Spamton finally seemed to snap back to reality, putting his fake smile back on as he strode towards the open door as quickly as his stumpy legs would allow. “TH4NK YOU, [[ValuedCustomer]]!” he exclaimed cheerily as he walked into the building, Swatch following and pulling the door shut behind them.

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It wasn’t long before Spamton was seated in a booster seat at one of the café’s tables with a steaming mug of hot cocoa on the table in front of him. Swatch was sat across the table from him, elbows propped up on the table surface, resting their beak on their folded wings, their eyes rested on their companion.

Spamton looked at the mug with suspicion, before reaching out and picking it up, sniffing it with his long nose before gingerly taking a sip. The warmth quickly spread through his chest, a feeling of comfort so unfamiliar now.

“NICE PLACE YOU GOT HERE. A [Prime Location],” Spamton decided to try and break the silence, looking around awkwardly.

“Thanks. The Color Café was always my favourite part of working at the mansion, so I’m glad I got a chance to reopen it here,” Swatch explained in their soft dulcet tone.

“IT WAS 1 OF MY [[Top 10 Places To]] AS WELL,” Spamton said with a smile. “YOUR SWATCHLINGS ALW4YS MADE SUCH DELICIS [[Out of this world spaghetti flavours!]].”

Swatch chuckled, hiding their beak behind a wing once again when they did so. “Thank you, they would appreciate that, they liked it when you would stop by when you were living in the mansion.”

“OH?” Spamton was left surprised again, unsure how to react to the almost compliment. He cleared his throat, hoping he could get the next few words out without a tic. “WHAT ABOUT [[ValuedCustomer]]?” He cursed himself when he failed. You. He had just wanted to say the word YOU. Why was that so hard?

“Huh?” Swatch looked confused. “Me?” they pointed to themself. “Oh, well, of course, I enjoyed the company of all of her majesty’s guests,” they muttered rather quickly. “I hope you know that I was just following her orders, when we threw you out, it wasn’t anything personal,” they added, seeming a little ashamed.

Spamton waved a hand. “[[The customer is always always always right!]]. YOU TREATED ME [Like a ValuedPatron] NO MATTER HOW MANY TIMES I TRIED TO GET INTO THE [Luxurious Basement Apartment]. GAVE ME A GOOD [Dressing Down]     , BUT NEVER EV3N RAISED YOUR VOICE. I [[Appreciate Your Continued Patronage]].” Spamton winced slightly at the tics, hoping he would be understood nonetheless.

Swatch looked thoughtful, and for a moment Spamton was worried that they had not parsed the meaning of what he had said. But they spoke before the puppet could open his mouth again to try and clarify.

“What was your obsession with that machine?” they asked softly.

Spamton sighed and took another sip of cocoa. “IT FELT LIKE… [Freedom]. IT FELT LIKE [[H e a v e n]]. BUT IT WASn’T. IN IT, I WAS STILL AS MUCH OF A [Puppet] THAN EVER.”

Swatch cocked their head at Spamton. “Well, I don’t see any strings on you. Aren’t you as free as the rest of us, to make your own choices, to live how you want?”

Spamton shook his head vigorously. “YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND MY [[$!$!]] LIFE. I’M NOT [[Great Deals!]] AT AN YTHING. I WAS [Manufactured to the highest standards] WRONG! TOO MUCH OF A [[Ant-Sized]] [Little Sponge]. NOT [[Lucky Lucky, Win Big Now!]].” Spamton looked down at the table, simmering in frustration.

“So, you’re not good at being a salesman, Spamton, so what?” Swatch started. “You don’t have to be one. You can be whatever you want, especially now we are all free.”

“BUT        . BUT THAT’S WHAT I WAS [Fashioned From High Quality Materials] TO DO! MY BROTHERS, THEY WERE ALL [[Huge Investment Opportunities]], AND I COULDN’T EVEN MAKE A [Sale] [Sale]. I WANTED TO SHOW THEM I COULD BE A [[Big Shot]] TOO!” Spamton was now gesturing vigorously as he spoke. “AND I WAS    , FOR A [Glorious] MOMENT! UNTIL IT ALL WENT DOWN THE [[Drain]][[Drain]].” The feeling of defeat remembering his fall was almost overwhelming. He grabbed the mug and chugged down the rest of the warm drink. “AND THIS PLACE ISn’T [Freedom], IT’S JUST ANOTH3R CAGE [[For The Whole Family]].”

Suddenly Spamton jumped to his feet, and in one smooth movement hopped down off the booster seat to the floor. “THANK YOU FOR THE [Excellent Customer Service]. I WON;T HOLD YOU UP PAST [[Closing Down!]] TIME ANY LONGER.” Spamton said as he started walking towards the front door to the café. He could hear Swatch scramble to stand up from their chair behind him.

“Wait, Spamton!” Swatch called out as they stood, which caused the puppet to stop in his tracks for a moment, in front of the glass door. “I’d feel bad, sending you out into the cold with nowhere else to go, like I did so many times before.”

Spamton reached out a hand and pressed it against the cool glass of the door. He hunched up his shoulders, trying to push down the sliver of hope building in his chest. He knew better than to get his hopes up anymore.

“I'LL BE fine. MAYBE I LIKE [[Living in a god damn garbage can]],” he said dismissively, though not yet pushing the door open.

“Wouldn’t you rather sleep on my couch than on a bunch of trash?” Swatch offered humbly.

Spamton slowly turned his head around, raising an eyebrow at the bird. “I WOULDn’T WANT TO SMUDG3 YOUR [High Quality Upholstery],” he argued back half-heartedly.

Swatch shook their head. “I insist. As I said, I’ve thrown you out in the cold too many times, and I feel guilty about that. Let me at least do this much for you?” Swatch looked hopeful.

Spamton only put on a show of considering the offer for another moment. “HOW COULD I REFUSE [[A Deal Like That]]?” Spamton finally accepted, removing his hand form the door.

Suddenly, before he knew what was happening, he was being scooped up off the floor by Swatch again, who placed the puppet up on their broad shoulder. Spamton squeaked indignantly, and quickly dug his heels into Swatch’s chest and grabbed onto the bird’s suit jacket to help balance himself on that perch.

“Sorry, I hope you don’t mind, but we’ll get through the cold much quicker like this,” Swatch apologised as they got out their keys and stepped out into the evening chill, locking up shop behind them. Spamton held on tightly as Swatch started striding into the night, making cheery idle chatter as they walked, likely to help reassure Spamton.

Spamton had stopped trying to stamp out the hope in his chest, which was swelling quickly, warming him through much like the delicious hot cocoa.

Chapter Text

Spamton was shivering slightly in the cool night air by the time they arrived at the huge Swatchling share house. The sides of the building were painted a cacophony of clashing primary colours, and laughter wafted from the windows. There was a much smaller house off to the side of the share house, this one painted monochrome. That’s where Swatch headed, getting out their keys to quickly let them inside and out of the cold.

Once through the black and white door, Swatch picked Spamton off their shoulder and gently set him down on the floor. They walked further into the surprisingly humble abode, Spamton trailing slowly behind as he took in his surroundings. While the interior decoration colour scheme was indeed dominated by stark white against deep black, that wasn’t to say there was no colour. Much like Swatch’s suit, there were bits of bright colours here and there around the place, like a blue vase, or a yellow picture frame. It wasn’t much bigger than a regular sized apartment, open living space with a few rooms off to the side which would likely be the bedroom and bathroom.

“I apologise if this is rude of me, Spamton, but I think it would be a good idea if you were to take a bath,” Swatch suggested politely, gesturing to the bathroom. The puppet hurried across the floor quickly to catch up to the tall bird and then let himself be ushered in through the bathroom door. “You can place your clothes in the washing basket, and I’ll find something clean for you to cover yourself with for tonight.”

Swatch smiled down at Spamton with reassurance, before pushing the bathroom door nearly closed, but not fully. Spamton realised that this was because everything in this house was tall bird sized, and he was so small that he would struggle to reach the door handle to get out of the room.

The bathroom was the same mix of monochrome with splashes of colour as the rest of the house. The bathtub was massive, and Spamton noticed it doubled as a shower. But obviously Swatch had suggested the puppet take a bath because he wouldn’t be able to reach the taps to operate the showerhead.

Spamton set the bath taps running and removed his outfit, throwing the black jacket and white shirt and pants into the laundry basket (on tip toe, this place really wasn’t made for someone of his size). He didn’t have to wait very long for the bath to fill enough so he could sit in the water. If he had filled it all the way, it would have been like a swimming pool for him. He narrowly avoided slipping and face planting into the water as he scrabbled up over the tall sides of the tub.

His soft puppet torso had been relativity protected from dirt by his shirt and jacket. Instead, his small plastic hands and feet had borne the brunt of most of the stains, so he paid them the most attention when scrubbing. He also had not had a chance to wash his hair in a very long time and soaped it up several times (the shampoo was out of reach).

The water was so warm and relaxing that Spamton would have liked to just soak in the tub, but he also didn’t want to keep his generous host waiting. So, once he got himself as clean as possible, he drained the tub, being careful again not to slip when climbing out. He grabbed the hand towel to start drying himself off. Then he wrapped the towel around his body and approached the door, pushing it open a crack.

“Are you done in there?” Spamton looked up to see Swatch looking down at him inquisitively, some white garment laying over one wing. Spamton nodded hurriedly, and Swatch reached down to hand him the garment. “This is a shirt that turned out to be too small for me, but on you it will be, well, like a very long night shirt probably.”

Spamton looked down at the shirt he now held with silence for a moment. “TH4NK YOU FOR YOUR [[Genorisity]].!!” he blurted out, before quickly retreating back into the bathroom out of sight.

Spamton ran his hands over the fabric in an absent-minded manner. The cotton was soft and clean. He removed the towel from around his body and wiggled into the shirt, which covered his tiny body completely, reaching down to the floor. He had to roll the sleeves right back over his arms to make them short enough. His small fingers clutched at the fabric over his chest. He was finding this situation difficult to believe. Someone was helping him, and not because he was a Big Shot? What was Swatch getting out of this Deal?

Spamton reeled in the threat of tears before they could start to form. He couldn’t fully let himself give in to hope yet. Knowing his luck, this would all fall apart quickly too, just like every previous time people had tried to help him, such as the voice on the phone, and Kris with the disk. He should just enjoy this while it lasts.

Spamton threw the towel in the laundry basket and exited the bathroom. He saw Swatch was setting the table, a quickly tried to hurry over to join them. But the puppet tripped on the hem of the far too big shirt and went crashing face first onto the floor.

He blinked as he raised his head to look up, seeing the shape of Swatch hurrying over to help him. Before Spamton could pull himself up, Swatch was there, lifting him gently to his feet. Spamton brushed down the fabric of the shirt.

“Are you alright?” Swatch sounded concerned.

“[Thank You] FOR YOUR [[Can I be of assistance?]],” Spamton responded. He pulled the fabric of the shirt in tight around his waist and made a small knot in it to keep the excess fabric tucked up and away, so now his small feet poked out the bottom of the almost dress.

“Are you hungry?” Swatch asked, stepping back over to the kitchen.

“THAT IS WHY I WAS [Rummaging] THROUGH YOUR [[Exciting Selection of Goods]] BEHIND YOUR [[EsteemedEstablishment]],” Spamton pointed out, walking up to the table and starting to try and climb up on a chair.

He was suddenly scooped up again and deposited on top of the table. “Just sit on the table, it will be easier,” Swatch said dismissively, placing a bowl down in front of Spamton. Spamton grumbled a bit before taking a seat on the white tablecloth and picking up the fork. Being manhandled for the sake of efficiency had started to feel a little bit demeaning, though he was sure Swatch meant no offence with it.

----------

“You mentioned a fondness for the Swatchlings spaghetti code earlier, well, I taught them how to make it, so let me know what you think about my original recipe,” Swatch gestured to the bowl the puppet sat next to. Spamton had been squinting at the meal, so Swatch felt the need to explain what it was. Swatch realised that Spamton had been squinting a lot since they found him in the dumpster.

“Spamton… can you see without your glasses?” Swatch asked as the salesman started gulping down forkfuls of sauce coated pasta. Of course, he must be able to somewhat perceive the world around him, what Swatch was really asking was if he could see clearly.

Spamton turned to squint at Swatch now. “I MAY BE P4RTIALLY BLIND   , BUT EVEN I CAN SEE [[These Incredible Deals!]].” Spamton suddenly bared his teeth and growled slightly while shaking his head. “I MEAN, I CAN SEE ENOUGH [Shapes! Colours!] TO GET [Buy!].”

“So, your glasses were actually prescription lenses?” Swatch asked with incredulity.

“YES, THE BEST KROMER CAN [[Buy! Buy!]].” The puppet had gone back to woofing down the food in between speaking.

“And you gave them to the lighteners?” Swatch reproached.

“YES       [Good Sir/Madam].”

Swatch paused for a few moments. “… but why?” they finally asked.

Spamton looked down at the table. “   ,    I AM NOT A [[Smart]]       .”

Swatch couldn’t help themself, they burst out into laughter, though they quickly tried to stifle it, especially when they noticed that the salesman was glaring at them.

“YEAH Y34H, [[Laugh It Up!]]. I KNOW I’M JUST I;M JUST A [[Jokes! Fun! Games!]] TO EVERY1.” The puppet looked so sullen that Swatch’s laughter died in their throat.

“No no, I apologise Spamton, I don’t think of you like that,” Swatch hurriedly and anxiously attempted to amend. “It just sounded like such a silly thing to do. I’ll ask Ralsei if he can try to get your glasses back off the lighteners next time they are around.”

Spamton didn’t really respond, just worked on finishing off his meal. Swatch quickly tried to eat their own before it got too cold. They had been so distracted by the little puppet that they had forgotten about it.

Swatch was slightly astonished when, after finishing his bowl, Spamton stood up and tottered down the length of the table closer to Swatch, taking a seat cross-legged next to their half-eaten bowl of spaghetti. He didn’t seem interested in the food though, instead was peering up at Swatch with scrutiny.

“Did you want some more?” Swatch asked in disbelief. They had given Spamton a portion the same size as their own, there shouldn’t be any room left inside the puppet to store more spaghetti.

Spamton shook his head. “JUST [Moving on in] CLOSER TO SEE [[Better Prices, Better Products]].” He titled his head as he squinted up at them.

Swatch chuckled. “What is it you are hoping to see, exactly?” they asked, before taking another mouthful of food.

“YOUR [[Deepest, Darkest Desires]]     ,” Spamton looked frustrated again for a moment after he spoke, huffing.

“My… motivation? For doing this?” Swatch made a guess at what Spamton meant. The puppet’s eyes suddenly went wide with shock.

“H- HOW DO YOU [Do That]? ARE YOU A [[Psychic who can read minds at half-pr1ce!]]?!?!” Spamton had jumped to his feet and was now pointing up accusingly at Swatch.

“How do I understand you?” Swatch said, amusement edging their voice at the puppet’s antics. “You are clearly trying hard to be understood, and I like to think of myself as capable of being rather clever at times.”

Spamton crossed his arms over his chest and glowered at Swatch with suspicion.

“Do you somehow think my intentions are less than noble?” Swatch asked with a sigh. “Do you look upon any kindness now with the suspicion of it hiding something sinister?” They had abandoned their fork in their bowl, no longer interested in eating now, instead maintaining intense eye contact with the puppet.

“WELL          YES! EVERY TIME I HAVE BEEN GIVEN A [HelpingHand], IT HAS ENDED IN [[Disaster]].” Spamton broke eye contact, turning away slightly. “[9/10 Dentists Recommend] THAT YOU [Trust Nobody] IN THIS [[Rat Race]].”

“Spamton… I can’t promise you everything will be okay, but I can assure you I have no ulterior motive than to help you, simply because it’s the right thing to do,” Swatch offered, spreading their wings slightly for emphasis.

Spamton seemed to ponder this for a moment. “SO, YOU’RE NOT GOING TO [Sell] MY [Kidneys] ON THE [[Black Market]] TO BUY YO URSELF [[A brand new car!]]???”

Swatch snorted out a laugh. “I take offense that you would even consider I might do such a thing.”

“MY [Deepest, most sincere apologies] [Good Sir/Madam],” Spamton sounded slightly guilty. “BUT IF NOT AN [[Organ Harvesting Opportunity]] THEN WHAT AM I what am i WH4T AM I TO YOU? I THOUGHT YOU ONLY SAW ME AS AN [[Annoying]] LITTLE [[Slime]].”

“Well, we could be friends, if you like,” Swatch offered.

Spamton did that thing where he just stared right through Swatch while trying to compute what they had said. “YOU… WANT TO BE [[Roblox Besties]] WITH YOUR [Old Pal] SPAMT                 SPAMTON G. SPAMTON?!” He finally said in disbelief.

“Sure, we can be friends,” Swatch gave a friendly smile. “And you can stay here for now, no strings attached.” Swatch instantly regretted using that adage, for as soon as it left their mouth, they noticed the puppet wince. “Sorry,” they added softly.

Swatch pushed back their chair and stood, now once again towering over the little salesman even though he was standing on the table.

“Do you want to get down?” they asked as they noticed Spamton looking around. The puppet nodded, so Swatch gently scooped him up and set him down on the floor. Spamton followed at Swatch’s heels as the bird collected the plates and took them into the kitchen.

Swatch emptied the remnant of their dinner into the bin and started filling the sink. They felt a tug on their pant leg and looked down to see Spamton smiling up at them.

“Do you want to help?” Swatch asked in slight confusion. The puppet nodded eagerly. Swatch shrugged, then leaned down to pick him up. They placed Spamton on the countertop next to the dish rack and handed him a dish towel.

It was to have company while doing the dishes. Of course, they could have always asked one of the Swatchlings to come over and help them, but they didn’t like ordering them around outside of work hours, even if they would happily do so. And it was clear that Spamton was trying to do something to repay his debt of gratitude towards Swatch, and even if it was unnecessary, Swatch still appreciated the effort.

Chapter Text

After they finished washing up and Spamton was returned to floor level, the puppet hurried over to the couch and started scrambling up onto the soft white cushions. He then watched Swatch wander over to join him, taking a seat on the other cushion and softly smiling at Spamton.

“SO, [[What do you like to get up to on a Friday night, hot stuff?]]” Spamton slapped both hands over his mouth after the tic escaped. “WAIT, NO, I- I- I MEAN-“

Swatch attempted to stifle another chuckle with a wing to their mouth. “Well, I guess we could watch some television,” they redirected, swiftly picking up the remote.

Fear and anxiety instantly gripped Spamton. “NO!” he shouted and shot to his feet, causing Swatch to freeze in surprise. Spamton rushed over and leaned on the bird, trying desperately to reach for the remote. “DON’T B3LIEVE HIS LIES, HIS LIES,    HIS [[Deals So Good They Are Criminal!]]”

Swatch blinked down at Spamton in bewilderment. “Spam… it’s just the news,” they said limply as they pressed the power button on the remote and the flatscreen sprung to life. Spamton could see in his peripheral vision the shapes of the news anchors sitting innocently at their desk, reading out the stories.

Spamton stopped flailing his arm around trying to reach the remote, but his eyes remained fixed on it, and it felt like his body was locked in place with dread.

“Are you quite alright?” Swatch enquired, voice laced with concern, and they slowly put the remote back down on the coffee table.

“I’M [[Feeling great after using this one trick that doctors hate!]] …” before he had even finished the sentence Spamton was gently bashing his face into Swatch’s upper wing. After a few seconds he felt something gently stroking his back.

“I can turn it off if it makes you uncomfortable?” Swatch offered as they ran their wing tips down the puppet’s back to try and comfort him.

“NO, it's fine,” Spamton’s voice was muffled by the feathers he had left his face pressed into.

Spamton didn’t really want to move, but eventually he pushed himself away from Swatch, who retracted their other wing from stroking the puppet’s back. Spamton sat down close to Swatch, pressing his back up against the couch, and staring in the direction of the television despondently.  

“JUST [For The Love Of God] DON’T PUT ON ANY INFOMERCIAL CHANNELS,” he managed to push out after he felt a little calmer.

“Why would I when I have one seated right next to me?” Swatch joked, nudging Spamton gently with his wing.

“PLEASE DOn;T       ” Spamton implored sadly, screwing his eyes shut.

“O-oh… my apologies, I didn’t know it was a sensitive topic for you,” Swatch remedied remorsefully. “Where did the glitch come from if you don’t mind me asking? Though you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, of course. I hope my curiosity doesn’t offend you.”

Swatch’s super polite nature often left Spamton reeling, so it took him a moment to formulate an answer. “IT’S [[Part of the packaged deal]]. I TOLD YOU, I WAS [Fabricated with the upmost care] WRONG. AN ERROR WAS M4DE    , [Wires] WERE CROSSED, A [[Bug]] IN THE [High Tech Systems]. I [Released To The Public] LIKE           THIS.” Spamton tried to explain as he gestured to his body, not looking up at Swatch though.

“I’M [Unsure, let me check with my supervisor] WHAT I EVEN AM,” he continued. “PART [Mannequin]?, PART ADDISON, AND PROBABLY A [[Secret Ingredient]] TOSSED IN TOO.? MAYBE A [[Hyperactive Ant]].” Spamton sighed. “BUT [A Panel Of Experts Agree] THAT I AM A… MISTAKE.”

Spamton now glanced up at Swatch, who looked like they were about to say something, but the puppet kept going before they had a chance to give some sappy comforting words. “STILL, I TRIED TO BE [Like All The Others]. I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE THE E_MAIL GUY. LOADED WITH [Pre-recorded Phrases] FOR [[GuaranteedSales]]. BUT NO   1 WOULD [[Listen To My Pitch]].”

Spamton got to his feet and walked to the other end of the couch, standing and staring out the window into the dark night. “I ONLY BECAME A [[Big Shot]] BECAUSE I HAD [Somebody] TO TELL ME WHAT TO SAY. TH4T [Voice] ON THE PHONE OVER OVER OVER WROTE THOSE [Pre-recorded Phrases] AND HELPED ME SAY WHAT I NEEDED TO, TO ACHIEVE [[Great Success]].”

Spamton turned back to look at Swatch, who appeared to be listening intently. “AND, well… [[You Know What Happens Next]],” he said with a shrug. “I [[Desperately]] TRIED    , BUT WITHOUT THEIR [Help] I WAS [[Finished]]. WENT A BIT [[Crazy]] TH3RE FOR A WHILE, THOUGH THE LIGHT nERS [[Snapped]] ME OUT OUT OF IT.”

“NOW, [OnceAgain],    NOBODY WANTS TO HEAR WHAT OLD SPAMTON HAS TO SAY.” He paused and narrowed his eyes. “EXCEPT… you.”

Swatch seemed to be looking as innocent as possible while Spamton looked at them with suspicion. “WHY ARE YOU [Listening] TO ME???”

Swatch shrugged. “Because I’m interested in what you have to say,” they offered simply, fiddling with their wing tips in their lap slightly.

Spamton took a few steps back towards the bird, still looking at them with doubt. “THE [Voice] ON THE PHONE [Listened To My Pitch], AS DID KRIS. WHEN PEOPLE ACTUALLY [Listen] TO ME     , THINGS END UP [[Bad]] [[Bad]].”

“So, it’s not so much that you mistrust me, more that you are superstitious of something going wrong if anyone pays you the attention you so desperately crave?” Spamton was glad for his permanent blush to cover his embarrassment at Swatch’s words, which cut into his pride. He stared at them, mouth agape. “As if you are cursed or something?”

“I AM CURSED [[with so much extra stock, prices slashed to clear, buy now!]],” Spamton grunted and stamped his foot in frustration. “[[$!$!]]”

“You seem… unusually frustrated with the glitch today Spamton, are you alright?” Swatch asked cautiously, moving slightly to reach out towards the puppet.

“I JUST WANT TO [Make A Good Impression], THAT’S ALL,” Spamton sat down sullenly. “I DON’T WANT TO WANT TO W4NT TO [[$!$!]] THIS UP.”

When he looked up at Swatch again, their features had softened. “I’m not judging you Spam. It doesn’t bother me at all. Feel safe to be yourself here,” they reassured. They reached out an placed a finger feather under Spamton’s chin, pushing it upwards. “Chin up little guy. You’re not cursed, and things can get better.”

Spamton felt his eyes water a bit, so quickly jumped to his feet and rushed over to press his body and face into the bird’s side in a hug. He felt Swatch’s body go stiff as their muscles tensed, but after a moment they placed a wing against the puppet’s back again, providing comforting pats.

----------

“You look exhausted. You should get some rest,” Swatch noticed the puppet not too subtly drying his eyes after pulling out of the long hug. “I’ll get you set up here and then go read in my room for a while.”

Spamton nodded while composing himself, and Swatch switched off the television before getting to their feet. They went to their bedroom closet to grab a spare blanket and fetched a pillow off their bed. They took the items back out to Spamton, who was sitting on the couch cushion, looking almost inanimate.

But the puppet came back to life when Swatch attempted to hand him the items. He accepted them quietly, muttering thanks, before arranging himself a spot to sleep on the cushion. Swatch went into the kitchen to pour a glass of water, which they brought back over to put on the coffee table for the puppet. By the time they got back, Spamton had curled up like a cat, the blanket pulled over him, still damp hair resting on the pillow.

“Good night, little one,” Swatch said softly, before exiting the room and turning out the lights. They stripped down to their boxers and sat with their legs under the covers of the bed, leaning back against the bed head, grabbing the book off the nightstand.

But though they opened it to where they had neatly placed a bookmark, though they directed their eyes down to the page, they could not focus on the words. Though they may have appeared calm and collected as always, they were still reeling from everything that had happened that evening. Their inbuilt instinct to serve and care had taken over after finding the puppet in the dumpster, nearly as involuntary as Spamton’s glitch.

How much of what they had done or said was actually real, and how much was compulsion? When they had served at the mansion, though they liked Queen well enough (especially before she got so intense with the world domination thing), it’s not like they had always followed every order or catered to every whim because they simply wanted to. Similarly, the Swatchings were compelled to follow all of Swatch’s orders; Swatch only had a modicum more freewill than they did.

Had they listened to Spamton ramblings because they were actually interested, or because of their compulsory politeness? Did they help him because they actually cared, or because they compelled to? It was hard for them to tell the difference. Now that they were alone, they could finally have a chance to pick apart their actions and feelings.

The relief that Spamton was alive, that seemed real, it wasn’t a ‘required’ feeling. Whenever they had laughed at the little salesman, that had been genuine, as the puppet certainly hadn’t been telling any jokes. Maybe they actually cared? It wasn’t like they didn’t like being nice and polite to people and helping them out. It was the fact that it was hardly a choice, that they were compelled to do so by their nature. They would rather do it because they genuinely wanted to.

Swatch had been over examining their own personality and having an existential crisis ever since they were freed from Queen’s service. Though freed didn’t mean much, as they had just gone straight to serving others instead. It’s what they were made to do after all.

This line of thought wasn’t helping. The fact was, they had done what they did, and Spamton was staying with them for now. Is this what they wanted, and if not, could they even get themselves to throw him out? That sounded like a horrible thing to do, and very sad. Perhaps that was a sign that they did actually want the puppet to stay, that they genuinely wanted to help him?

Swatch slammed the book shut again and returned it to the nightstand with a small huff, removing their glasses and setting them down as well before flicking off the bedside lamp. They wriggled down under the covers and lay staring up at the ceiling instead. They let out a sigh and tried to sleep early as well.

They barely slept at all and got up early to tip toe out of the house to go over to the share house, taking Spamton’s dirty clothes with them in a plastic bag.

The Swatchlings asked them where they had been the previous evening, why they hadn’t come over for dinner. They made the excuse of feeling under the weather and asked if the Swatchlings could handle running the café today on their own, though Swatch knew they would be perfectly capable of doing so (unless any maice came in). Using the sick excuse was nearly a mistake, as suddenly their underlings were crowding around them, trying to push them into a bed to rest, wetting a towel to put on their head, and one has started cooking chicken soup within seconds.

Swatch managed to get them under control and to calm down, convincing the crowd of muscular birds that they were quite able to take care of themself. The Swatchlings almost seemed disappointed, but assured Swatch that they would take the upmost care of the Color Café instead. Swatch thanked them all and saw them off as they left for work with a cheery smile and a wave.

Once they were gone, Swatch headed to the laundry room. They dumped the puppets clothes in the washing machine and set the cycle. Then they gathered some pieces of cotton from the stash in the linin cupboard and took them over to the sewing machine. Swatch was the one in charge of repairing any damage to the Swatchlings uniforms or clothes since they left the conveniences of the city, so had developed some skill in the art of textiles. They hoped it would be enough for this.

They worked through the morning, stopping to put Spamton’s clothes through the dryer. Once they were dry, they also repaired the puppets jacket as best they could, and the hems of his pants. The shirt was in okay condition, as it had been protected by the jacket. Once the sun was fully up their work was complete, and they made their way back over to their own house.

Chapter Text

When Swatch returned to the house, they found that Spamton was partially tangled up in his blanket and oversized shirt on the couch, but still fast asleep. Some of the puppet’s limbs were now exposed due to the assumedly restless sleep, and this was the first chance Swatch had to get a proper look at them. They were segmented and made of hard plastic, doll like. Legs split into three segments attached with ball joints, including small triangle feet. Arms were two segments, but with very detailed hands with fully segmented movable fingers, which Swatch was already aware of. Spamton was a strange little creature, to say the least.

Swatch stopped themself from staring and started carefully laying out the salesman’s mended clothing on one half of the coffee table. For some reason, Swatch had been unable to help themself repair the black jacket by using white patches, and the white pants using black patches, now giving the garments a random checked look that even more closely resembled their own attire than before. They also laid out their own creation; tiny plain cotton pyjamas so Spamton wouldn’t have to sleep in his clothes.

Swatch didn’t wake the sleeping puppet though, instead retreating into the kitchen area to start brewing some coffee. Soon the smell of coffee was wafting strongly through the room, and toast was cooking as well. Swatch poured the coffee into a normal large monochrome mug, and a tiny single shot espresso style ceramic cup as well. They lost themselves in a moment in the smell of the melted butter on the toast, before placing the cups and plates on a tray and taking it over to place on the empty half of the coffee table. Swatch took a seat on the armchair off to the side of the coffee table, rather than the couch.

It wasn’t long before Spamton stirred, blinking heavily as he struggled to untangle himself from the blanket and sit up. His long nose sniffed the air, clearly having detected the strong scents of coffee and breakfast. Freeing himself from the blanket he looked around, his gaze falling on the coffee table. Swatch hoped he could see enough to appreciate the gift.

Spamton’s eyes went wide, and he reached out to gently grab the jacket off the coffee table. He brought it closer to his face, inspecting the white patches that had been affixed over the tears.

“YOU [Fixed] IT FOR ME   ?” the puppet said in disbelief, picking up the pants as well. Swatch smiled while the salesman jumped to his feet and started pulling on the pants up under the large shirt. Swatch politely averted their gaze when Spamton started pulling the oversized shirt off to replace it with his own. When the bird looked back Spamton was wriggling into the v neck jacket.

The puppet looked down at his outfit in awe. “I [[Love]] [[Love]]      !!!” he announced as he smoothed out the jacket.

“I’m glad,” Swatch said, then nodded to the other garments. “I also took the liberty of quickly fabricating you some pyjamas as well.”

“[[Wowee!]]. I CAN [[Barely Believe These Deals!]],” Spamton said appreciatively, grabbing up the pyjamas and tucking them and the oversized shirt into his little blanket nest.

Swatch chuckled. “Please, have some breakfast and a drink too,” they said, and started setting out the meal on the table, placing Spamton’s plate and tiny cup down in front of him.

Spamton stared at the breakfast in disbelief, before turning the same gaze upon Swatch themself. “WHY ARE YOU DOING ALL THIS FOR [Little Old Me]?”

“I am obliged to,” Swatch stated simply, as if it was obvious. They tried to ignore the fact that they had been asking themself the same question.

“NO, YOU;RE NOT, I’M NOT ONE OF YOUR [Honoured Guests] AT THE MANSION AN YMORE,” Spamton argued back firmly.

“But you are still a guest in my home, so I must be a good host, as social etiquette requires,” Swatch defended, feeling a bit uneasy about how Spamton was pushing this argument. “Didn’t you ever learn your manners?”

“OF COURSE I DID   , POLITENESS IS THE # 1 RULE OF [[Great Customer Service!]],” Spamton emphasised. “BUT YOU T4KE IT [[To The Next Level!]]. WH Y???”

Swatch glanced away for a moment. “My apologies for being too nice,” they said, though it came out sincere rather than sarcastic.

Spamton scowled slightly. “THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEAn’T, AND      [[You Know It!]].” He picked up the cup and sipped on the coffee. “OF COURSE I [Appreciate] EVERYTHING YOU'VE DONE FOR ME.”

Swatch picked up a piece of toast to eat, hoping Spamton would just drop the discussion. Thankfully he seemed to, digging into the prepared breakfast instead. They consumed the meal in mainly silence after that.

Once finished, as Swatch rose from the chair and started to tidy up, they said “So would you like to go over to the castle today, and we can ask the young master if he could request your glasses back from the lighteners next time they visit?”

“[[Sounds Great!]], BUT DON’T YOU HAVE TO GO TO [[9 to 5 slog]] TO DAY?” Spamton asked. Swatch could hear the puppet climbing a chair to get up on the table behind them.

Swatch stifled a snicker. “Spamton, do you even know what time it is?” When they looked over at the puppet, who had managed to get up on the table, he shrugged. “It’s 10am already.”

“EGADS! [[Where Does The Time Go?]]” Spamton responded in shock.

Swatch shook their head mirthfully. “Don’t worry, I sent the Swatchlings off to run the café for the day.”

“YOU CALLED IN SICK???” Spamton narrowed his eyebrows in disbelief as he looked at the bird. “… THEN AGAIN, YOU DO LOOK [[So tired, it’s time for a new mattress?]].”

Swatch waved a hand dismissively. “I’m perfectly fine.” They finished with the dishes and walked over to Spamton, holding out a wing to the puppet. “Let’s go?”

Spamton looked up at Swatch suspiciously for a moment, before stepping into the offered wing. Swatch lifted the puppet up who then stepped off onto the bird’s shoulder, taking a seat.

----------

They took the back route to the castle, avoiding the central business area of the castle town. Swatch didn’t want any of the Swatchlings spotting them out and about when they were supposed to be resting, and Spamton had demonstrated some brief anxiety about running into his brothers hawking their wares around there.

Once they reached the castle they entered with no resistance, as Ralsei had stated that the castle was open for anyone to visit at any time, so there were no locked doors in their way (except that massive one at the back of the foyer, though no one knew what was through there).

Once inside Swatch allowed Spamton down to the ground, and the puppet followed at the bird’s heels as they made their way through the foyer, then up the stairs to the left. In the long hallway with several doors to rooms, they spotted some people down the end of the corridor. As they approached closer, Swatch could see it was Queen and Lancer relaxing on banana lounges in the middle of the hallway.

“Oh Ho Ho, Who Is That I Spy?” Queen asked loudly, her attention on the approaching pair. Lancer sat up in his chair and looked over at them with confusion.

“Greetings my lady. I hope that you are well. Would you happen to know where the young lord of the castle is by any chance?” Swatch asked with a swooping bow.

“Oh, Swatch My Dear, How Good It Is To See You Here,” Queen began, and Swatch smiled politely. “If You Are Looking For Ralsei, I’m Afraid I Don’t Know Where The Little Scamp Has Run Off To Today.”

“That’s quite alright, we’ll have a look around for him th-“

“Oh, Actually, Swatch, Darling, Since You Are Here, Would You Mind Tidying Up The Place For Me A Bit?” Swatch’s back stiffened at Queen’s haughty request. “This Floor Could Really Use: A Good Sweeping.”

Swatch tried to politely turn down the request, but all that came out of their mouth was “… Of course your majesty, right away.” And suddenly their body was doing a stiff 180 degree turn and they started walking back down the hallway to look for a broom cupboard.

“WHAT THE [[$!$!]] ARE YOU DOING?!?!” Spamton hissed as he ran to catch up with Swatch’s long strides. “YOU;RE [[Fired from your last job?]].”

“It’s fine Spamton,” Swatch dismissed as they pulled open a small, non-descript door. “This shouldn’t take too long. Why don’t you go and see if you can find Ralsei in this place? I should be done by the time you come back with him.”

Spamton gave Swatch a weird look, but put up no more resistance, shrugging and walking off around a corner. Swatch sighed as they grabbed a broom out of the closet and went back to were Queen and her son were and started to sweep the hallway.  

”Oh Ho Ho, Very Good Very Good!” Queen announced once Swatch was finished. Swatch smiled graciously, but before they could excuse themselves, the monarch started talking again. “And Actually, Swatch Dear, While You Are Here, My Dearest Lancer Is Feeling Quite Thirsty. Would You Mind Fetching Him A Lemonade?”

Swatch stared at her is disbelief for a moment before the words slipped out of their mouth. “Of course, madam, I will get that sorted right away.” A few seconds later they were hurrying back down the corridor.

They couldn’t direct their feet to go anywhere but to the room where the food and beverages were stored for the castle occupants. They fetched the necessary ingredients and set about making the beverage. They went ahead and made a pitcher full, putting it and two glasses on a tray before making their way back towards the living quarters.

As Swatch stepped out into the foyer again and turned to head towards the steps, a flash of green caught their attention. They noticed Ralsei and Spamton headed in the same direction as they were, chatting to eat other. Noticeably, Spamton was wearing his bi-coloured glasses again. Ralsei noticed the tall bird and look at them with confusion, as did Spamton. The two then changed direction to come directly over to Swatch.

“Hello Swatch. What have you got there?” Ralsei inquired, looking a little puzzled.

“Well met young master.” Swatch greeted, giving another swooping bow while keeping the drinks perfectly balanced. “Queen and her son requested some refreshments, so I came to fetch a beverage.”

This didn’t seem to alleviate Ralsei’s confusion. “Oh… ah, that’s very thoughtful of you Swatch, but they are my guests, so please allow me to attend to them.” Ralsei held out his paws to take the tray.

“Very well young master,” Swatch said, gently handing over the tray. They were filled with relief. If they had to go back to Queen, no doubt she would have more requests, and they could be kept here all-day preforming chores for her.

“Oh, and Spamton let me know the reason for your visit. Kris actually left the glasses with me, and I was happy enough to return them to their owner,” Ralsei explained with a smile. “Was there anything else you needed?”

“That is all, young master,” Swatch said appreciatively, with another smaller bow.

“Oh, and by the way, you can just call me Ralsei, okay? I may be a prince but… we are all equals around here, you know?” Ralsei laughed with slight embarrassment.

“Of course,” Swatch said with a smile, and had to force themselves not to bow again. As Ralsei walked off with the drinks towards the stairs, Swatch waved them goodbye.

Swatch felt a tug on their pant leg and turned their attention down to the puppet.

“WHAT THE [[$!$!]] WAS TH4T?!?!” The salesman demanded, staring up at Swatch accusatorily. “WHY DID YOU MAKE THEM DELICIS [Fresh Beverages]???”

“Don’t worry about it,” Swatch dismissed with a wave of their wing and an awkward chuckle. “We better head back now, right?” They crouched down next to Spamton.

Spamton looked like he was about to say more, but then seemed to think better of it and closed his mouth. He quickly scrambled up Swatch’s offered wing to get onto their shoulder again. Then they took their leave of the castle together, heading back to the bird’s house.

Chapter Text

They had returned to Swatch’s house, and the bird had placed Spmaton down on the coffee table, who looked around himself in thought.

“SO, [[What do you like to do for fun around here ha-]]” Spamton quickly snapped his mouth shut tightly, trying desperately to squash the phrase. Swatch looked at him in concern as the puppet struggled to hold it in. “[[Handsome!]][[Handsome!]][[Handsome!]]” he finally blurted out the end of the phrase several times, followed by “[[$!$!]][[$!$!]][[$!$!]]”, and then sighed in defeat.

Swatch shrugged, not even seeming to acknowledge the embarrassing glitch. “What would you like to do today, Spamton?”

Spamton shook his head and glared up at the bird. “THIS IS YOUR [Vacation Day]. THE ONLY 1 I HAVE EVER EV3R SEEN YOU [[Take Off]],” he pointed out firmly. “WHAT DO YOU W4NT TO DO??”

Swatch looked very awkward and uncomfortable all of a sudden and pulled slightly at the collar of their suit as if it was too tight around their neck.  “But… you are the guest… I really must insist...”

“NO. [[I must insist!]],” Spamton pointed up at Swatch accusatorily. “WHAT [Leisure Activities] DO YOU ENJOY? DO YOU DO AN YTHING OTHER THAN [[Work Work Work!]]???”

Swatch looked down at their two longest pinion feathers that they were pressing together in front of their body, the equivalent of someone pressing their index fingers together. “W-well… I like to read… and I have dinner with the Swatchlings sometimes… maybe watch some television… play chess with Seam…”

“YOU LIKE [Board Games]?” Spamton latched on quickly.

“Well… mainly chess…” Swatch replied evasively.

Spamton eyed them with suspicion. “IS THAT BECAUSE THE PIECES ARE BLACK AND WHITE?”

Swatch’s posture seemed to shrink even more. “Maybe…” They let out a nervous laugh.

Spamton was thoughtful again for a moment. “I KNOW OF CHESS, BUT HAVE NEVER PLAYED IT. I COULD [[Learn in 3 easy steps!]] THOUGH, IF YOU CARED TO TEACH ME,” he finally suggested.

“Sure, if that’s what you want,” Swatch seemed to perk back up a bit, their tone back to the usual politeness.

“NO     , ONLY IF IT;S [[What You Want]]!!!” Spamton snapped, planting his hands on his hips.

“I… I guess so. It sounds good to me,” Swatch was back to being a bit awkward again. “Let me go and find my board.” They took off to go and rummage through some cupboards.

Spamton sat down on the coffee table, knowing there was no way he would be able to reach the game from the couch. Swatch brought the chess set over and started setting it up in front of Spamton, who watched closely.

Swatch was a very patient teacher. Spamton had fun learning to play the game, and it seemed like Swatch was enjoying themselves as well. The afternoon lazily went by in this manner until they were unexpectantly interrupted by the doorbell. Swatch blinked at Spamton in confusion, before standing up and going over to the door, peering through the peep hole. Their eyes widened in panic.

“Quick, hide!” they hissed at Spamton, who was taken aback. Spamton looked around, saw his blanket nest on the couch, and quickly dove over to it, covering himself in the blanket and garments and then holding still.

He heard the sound of the door opening, and then Swatch saying, “What are you all doing here?” in a confused tone.

“Came to check on you.” “Came to see if you were feeling better.” “Came to make you dinner!” A bunch of different voiced babbled at once.

“Really guys I’m fine, there’s no need,” Swatch tried to protest, but Spamton could hear the sound of the group of birds walking into the room.

“Chess?” “Who you playing with?” “Had a guest?” they pried.

“O-oh, uh, no, I was just… uh… practicing some strategies,” Swatch covered awkwardly, and Spamton could hear many footsteps moving all around the room.

“You look tired.” “You should be in bed.” “You should get some rest.” “Let us clean up this mess.”

“N-no, wait!”

Suddenly the pile of blanket and clothing on top of Spamton was lifted off him, exposing him to the light. He looked up, noticing a bunch of pointed white faces looking down on him with confusion.

“It’s the littlest Addison!” “It’s Spamton!” “There is a guest, there is a guest!” they started shouting in excitement, and one of them picked Spamton up and held him up high for them all to see.

Spamton looked around all the eager faces of the Swatchlings, and also noticed Swatch off to the side, half heartedly reaching out one wing towards Spamton, face slightly flushed.

“LET’S DRESS HIM UP IN A LITTLE SUIT.” “YES YES, A LITTLE SUIT.” “YES AND A BOWTIE TOO.” The birds started screeching.

“No no, guys, he’s already wearing a suit, nobody’s dressing up anybody!” Swatch protested over the bird’s screams of delight.

“Why is he here?” “Where did he come from?” They asked their leader, most of their heads cocking to the side with the questions.

“Uh, well, he doesn’t have a home in the town so I’m letting him stay with me for a while,” Swatch attempted to explain.

“He should stay in the share house!” “He should stay with us!” “There’s plenty of room!” “Yes, in the share house, in the share house!” They squawked enthusiastically. Spamton had a feeling of slight alarm go through him and looked to Swatch to save him.

“No no everyone, it’s quite alright, Spamton has been enjoying his stay here on my couch, isn’t that right?” Swatch gestured for Spamton to speak.

“A-AH, YES, THIS IS QUITE QUITE QUITE [Adequate],” he announced, swallowing a lump in his throat.

“Well...” “You should at least bring him over for dinner.” “Yes, let’s have a dinner party!” “We will make you a feast!” the birds trilled together.

Swatch finally pushed their way through the small crowd of muscular birds and reached up to take Spamton from the one holding him. “Ah, sure, yes, we can come over for dinner.”

“Give us some time to prepare!” “Come over in an hour!” The birds instructed as they filed their way out of Swatch’s house while waving farewell, the last one shutting the door behind them. This left Swatch standing alone holding the puppet defensively, which was actually pretty tightly and almost winding Spamton.

“Guess we have a dinner party to attend,” Swatch said weakly as they placed Spamton gently back down on the coffee table.

----------

Swatch had excused themselves from Spamton’s company to take a much-needed shower of their own. Being alone always felt like a relief, as they could finally have complete control over themselves, no chance anyone was going to ask them to do anything, or, in the case of the Swatchlings, try to do something for them. They could relax under the hot water as it soaked through their black feathers.

Getting their feathers soaked through to the down, however, took ages to dry from. Swatch stood in front of the bathroom mirror which hung over the sink, running the strongest hairdryer imaginable over their entire body. They were close to being done when they a tiny knock at the door. The bird quickly grabbed a towel to wrap around their small waist and cover them down to the knees, before going to see what Spamton needed.

Swatch opened the door a crack and looked out at the puppet. Spamton startled slightly, and then his eyes went super wide as he stared up at the half naked bird. “Can I help you?” Swatch asked politely.

Spamton’s gaping mouth moved slightly, and he put up a finger in the air like he was trying to say something, but no words were coming out.

“[[WOWZERS!]]”, he finally managed to say, then, “W-W-WAIT, NO    , I M3AN. Y-YOU WERE TAKING [Such A Long Time] TO DRY, THAT I WONDERED IF I COULD JUST IF I COULD JUST [Fix My Hair] IN THE MIRROR WH- WHILE YOU WERE DOING TH4T, BUT, UM- AH- I DIDn’T KNOW THAT YOU WERE…”

“Oh, my apologies for monopolizing use of the bathroom. Here, allow me to assist you,” Swatch offered, and reached out to pick Spamton up. A flash of panic raced across the puppet’s face, and his doll like body went stiff in Swatch’s wings as he was lifted from the floor.

Swatch paused, holding Spamton in mid-air. “Are you quite alright?” they asked, noticing the puppet was staring down at their feather covered chest.

“Y-YES I;M [[Great!]] [[Fantastic!]] [[Thank You!]]” Spamton stuttered, shifting his gaze away. So, Swatch turned around and placed the puppet down on the bathroom sink countertop in front of the mirror, and then reached for a comb. Spamton looked confused for a moment, but then alarmed again when Swatch started running the comb through Spamton’s black hair.

The puppet looked like he was about the protest, but no sound came out when he opened his mouth. Swatch realised they had forgotten to give Spamton the opportunity to brush his hair after he showered the previous night, and now after sleeping on it there were a number of tangles they had to work through.

Spamton sat there at first like he was frozen in place, like an actual inanimate doll, staring into the mirror, watching Swatch work on his hair. Eventually he started to relax however and lean into the brushing, eyelids half closing.

After Swatch had worked out all the knots, they held out the comb in front of Spamton for him to take. “Here, you can style it how you like now while I finish drying off.”

Spamton slowly took the comb, and Swatch picked up the hair dryer and got back to work drying the rest of their feathers, standing a few steps away from the sink as they did so. Spamton slowly looked down at the comb, then back up to the mirror, watching Swatch’s reflection for a moment. Then he quickly shook his head and turned his attention to his own reflection, leaning in and started styling his own hair. Swatch didn’t own any hair wax though, so there was only so much Spamton could do to get the black mess under control.

Swatch was very detail oriented, so it didn’t escape their notice that as Spamton worked on his hair, he kept glancing at Swatch’s reflection as well. Swatch also wasn’t dumb, and they could make a pretty good guess at why Spamton was peeking at them. It was no secret that Swatch had a well-built figure much like the Swatchlings, their tight suits doing little to hide it. Many had called them handsome before as well. So it wasn’t really all that surprising that the puppet was fascinated.

When they were done Swatch helped Spamton down off the sink and went into their bedroom to get changed. They thought they heard muttering and a little bit of manic laughter coming from the other room as they got dressed. When they came back into the main room, they found Spamton hunched over the chess board, staring at it intently.

“You prepared to go?” Swatch asked their companion, cocking their head as they tried to glean what was fascinating the puppet so.

Spamton snapped his head up. “OH, YES, [[Let’s get this show on the road]],” he said, hopping down off the table to follow the tall bird out the front door. Swatch noticed that now that he was washed, with clean clothes and his hair brushed, he almost looked the same as he used to when he was living at the mansion. He looked nearly as happy as he had been back then as well.

Chapter Text

Swatch wondered where the Swatchlings had gotten the booster seat. Then they suddenly recognised it and realised a Swatchling would have had to run all the way back to the café to grab it. But of course they had. Going above and beyond was as much a part of their nature as it was a part of Swatch’s. They just couldn’t help themselves.

Swatch noticed that Spamton’s eyes were as wide as saucers looking at all the dishes that the birds had cooked up, all laid out on their long communal dining table. Swatch could only imagine how this would feel for someone who had been eating out of dumpsters for so long. The puppet didn’t even seem to mind being passed around by the Swatchlings that much. They deposited him in the booster seat and tied a cloth napkin around his neck. The utensils they provided him were also child sized. No detail left unattended.

Swatch was actually almost somewhat glad that it wasn’t them who the Swatchlings were making a fuss about for once. Sure, the other birds guided them into their seat at the head of the table, with the finest cutlery laid out in front on the tablecloth. But mostly their attention was on the puppet, the unusual addition to dinner. A real guest, not just their leader.

They all sat around the table and got stuck into the massive offering of food. Swatch knew it wouldn’t go to waste. The Swatchlings didn’t maintain their bulk by dieting, that’s for certain. The two flanking Spamton’s chair attended to the puppet’s needs, passing him whatever dish he wanted a portion of, refilling his drink in a tiny glass, and wiping sauce from his face.

There was never much conversation at the dinner table between the Swatchlings, as they mainly focused on eating all the food that they had taken such care to prepare together. In every aspect of life, they worked as a team, a unit. Though they always looked to Swatch for overall guidance. Swatch was separate from the birds almost hivemind, like one of them but at the same time different, more independent. That was required to be a leader.

Swatch was quiet during dinner but was happy to see that Spamton was having such a grand time. The salesman clearly remembered that the Swatchlings would listen to anything he had to say, so he was regaling them with tales from his ‘glory days’ between bites of food. The puppet could fit a surprising amount of sustenance in his small body.

Once dinner was over there was suddenly a flurry of activity as the birds started quickly cleaning everything up. Everyone played a part, from collecting up plates, binning waste, washing dishes, drying them, and putting them away. Swatch knew better than to try and help, if they ever did, they would only be pushed back into their chair and told to relax. So soon it was just them and Spamton at the table, Spamton casually sipping on the last of his beverage and humming.

Swatch didn’t really know what to say, and Spamton didn’t seem to be present in the moment as his eyes looked a little glassy, or at least he didn’t try to strike up any conversation. Instead, they sat there in semi-awkward quiet until the Swatchlings were finished and had returned.

“Thank you for the wonderful meal,” Swatch said graciously with a smile as they got to their feet. The Swatchlings smiled back, and then two of them reached out to grab Swatch’s wings. Swatch stiffened, and looked around in alarm, noticing another Swatchling had picked up Spamton and was holding him over their head.

“Time for games!” “Party game time!” “Let’s play!” they crowed, pushing and dragging Swatch into the living room despite their polite protests, the one holding Spamton aloft bringing up the rear.

“OH? [[Fun! Jokes! Games!]]?” Spamton asked, while the Swatchlings laid out the brightly coloured twister mat and Swatch groaned. Spamton was placed down on an armchair to oversee the proceedings (probably so he didn’t get crushed to death under a pile of muscular bird bodies) and Swatch crossed their wings over their chest as they stood watching their subordinates take turns spinning the pointer.

Suddenly one of them reached out and grabbed Swatch’s wing, pulling them onto the mat. Swatch squawked indignantly and almost tripped over as they were dragged into the game. The Swatchling held up the pointer for Swatch to spin.

“N-no, I uh,” they started objecting with shakes of their head and crossing their wings back and forth in front of them. But then they paused, noticing the hopeful look on the Swatchlings faces. They also noticed Spamton looking clearly eager and enrapt from where he was seated on a chair. Swatch sighed, reached out a pinion feather, and flicked the pointer.

It wasn’t long before the birds were all twisted up, and someone slipped, sending them all crashing down on top of each other. The Swatchlings cackled with laughter, and Swatch grunted as they tried to free themself. They could also hear a different pitch laughter and looked around to find it was coming from Spamton. The puppet was pointing at the pile while clutching his stomach as he was overcome by hysterical laughter.

“[[Clean up on aisle3!]]” Spamton managed to choke out as Swatch finally got free and pushed themself to their feet. “[[Som eone left a]] PILE OF [[$!$!]]ING BIRDS [lyeing around].”

Swatch let out a huff. “All right, I think that’s quite enough games,” they announced, brushing their suit down while the Swatchlings got to their feet.

“Then onto the next in tonight’s scheduled entertainment.”  “Please enjoy the movie.” Some Swatchlings said as they pushed Swatch to sit on a couch. Swatch barely had time to react before the lights in the room were being dimmed and the overhead projector switched on, the birds all taking up seats in various spots around the room, on chairs and couches and even some on the floor.

Swatch ended up partially squashed between two of the birds. They glanced over at Spamton, who looked to be having as grand a time as ever, eyes fixed on the white wall which the projector image was overlaid onto, looking keen for the movie. Swatch sighed again and tried to relax and enjoy the provided entertainment like everyone else was.

When they finally got to leave at the end of the evening, the Swatchlings looked a little crestfallen.

“How long is Spamton staying with you?” “Can he stay with us next?” “Will he come and work at the café?” “He should work at the café with us!”

Swatch looked at them in slight surprise, then down at the puppet who was sitting on Swatch’s wing which was held up against their chest. “Huh… I hadn’t really thought of that…” they mused.

“HUH?” Spamton asked in confusion. “YOU;RE [[Offering]] ME A [[Paid position in the company]]???”

Swatch smirked and shrugged. “Well, unless you would prefer to sit around doing nothing all day while I’m at work?”

Spamton looked thoughtful. The Swatchlings crowded around the pair looked hopeful. “YOU HAVE A POINT [Friend]. PERHAPS [Starting From The Bottom] AGAIN WON'T BE SO SO BAD.”

The Swatchlings screeched happily, and Swatch’s smile actually reached their eyes.

----------

Spamton started working at the Color Café with Swatch and the Swatchlings. He started out with just sitting on a counter and helping to dry the dishes, chatting away to the Swatchlings as they worked the kitchen. It’s not as though they were short on hands, but it was nice to feel somewhat useful and wanted. He refused to accept any pay for his work, arguing that he was just earning his keep.

Swatch soon taught Spamton how to use the coffee machine so he could help make the drinks, one of the more bottle neck processes of any café. This led to Spamton spending more time at the front counter with Swatch, making conversation between customers. Though, whenever his brothers would visit the establishment, Spamton would quickly hide away. Back when Spamton had become a Big Shot, his brothers had made it clear they wanted nothing to do with him, and he had no desire to try and force them to interact with him.

There was a couple of things Spamton started to notice about Swatch as the days of living and working with them went by.

Despite their friendly, helpful, and polite attitude, it seemed that underneath Swatch was actually quite an asocial bird. They were quite uptight and rather uncomfortable in any intense social settings, like the Swatchlings dinner parties, or when the Café got overly crowded. They often showed great relief when the crowds dissipated, or when they got home away from everyone but Spamton. Spamton could only imagine that they were even more comfortable when they got to retreat into their bedroom, away from him.

The second thing Spamton noticed, however, was despite Swatch’s highly strung nature, they seemed to have no concern at all with their body being exposed. After showers they would often walk through the living space to the bedroom with just a towel wrapped around them, fully showing their feathered chest. Spamton would unashamedly stare, though Swatch seemed to either not notice or not care.

The third thing Spamton had noticed about Swatch was their inability to say no to people. Well, not just anyone. They could easily deny service to an overtly rude customer and ask them to leave, or even throw them out themselves like they had to Spamton when he used to try and sneak into Queen’s mansion. No, it seemed that Swatch couldn’t say no to anyone they perceived as having a higher social status than them (or a guest to their home, like Spamton).

Mainly, Queen, though Spamton suspected it may stretch to Ralsei and Lancer, though they never really asked the ex-butler to do anything. But Queen seemed to under some sort of impression that Swatch was still her personal servant. Though perhaps she wasn’t even that aware of what she was doing when she blithely made requests to them.

Queen came into the café one day carrying a large amount of bulky shopping bags. She ordered a glass of battery acid and sat and a table to enjoy her drink. After she finished, she approached the counter again, smiling wryly.

“Swatch, Darling,” she cooed sweetly, “I Was Hoping That You Might Be Able To Assist Me With An Issue Of A Sensitive Nature.”

Spamton noticed how Swatch’s body subtly stiffened at the request. “What do you need help with madam?” they asked, and Spamton thought under the polite overtones they sounded a little strained.

“Well Now, You See, Ralsei Painted My Room In #009DFF, But I Want It In #0096FF. And He Won’t Change It For Me, Says It’s Perfect Already, So I’m Taking Matters Into My Own Hands,” she said with a firmness that made it sound like some sort of war. “But I Could Really Use Some Help With Painting It, Its An Awful Big Job Just For Little Old Me. You’ll Help Me Paint It, Won’t You Swatchy? You Understand The Importance Of Good Colour Co-ordination” she batted her ‘eyelashes’ at them.

“Of… course… my lady. Right away,” Swatch said with a sharp nod, and quickly stepped around the counter to Queen’s side.

“Oh Ho Ho, Wonderful,” Queen announced pompously. “Oh, And Dear, Could You Help Me Carry These Bags Back To The Castle As Well? They Are: Awful Heavy.”

“As you wish, your majesty,” Swatch bowed, and held out their wings, which Queen quickly transferred all the bags into.

“WHAT THE [[F…ifty Percent Off]] ARE YOU DO ING?!?” Spamton asked incredulously from where he stood on the counter, standing up on his toes.

Swatch shook their head slowly. “Please don’t be concerned. Spamton, you are in charge of the café until I get back,” and with that they were stiffly following Queen out the front door.

Spamton sighed uneasily, running a hand through his hair. Even if he ran after them, it didn’t seem like there would be a lot he could do to stop it. It seemed only Ralsei’s orders could overwrite Queen’s for Swatch.

Chapter Text

Swatch was actually good at painting, and usually enjoyed it. It was what they had been originally made for, when they served lighteners through their computer screens. That was before they went into the service of Queen. They had painted plenty for her too in their time at the mansion, from walls to portraits, and now they had been roped back into doing so again.

Of course, it ended up that Swatch was the one doing all the actual painting work, with Queen acting as more of a hinderance than a help as she stood around supervising their work, trying to direct them, or saying they missed a spot, or to redo a part of it. But they could not stop themselves from responding to each request with a compliant “Yes, my lady” or “Right away”.

Technically they could have tried to convince her to take a Swatchling to assist her, but Swatch didn’t want them to have to endure this instead. They would take responsibility for their own inability to refuse her, not throw one of their subordinates under the bus.

They were about three quarters done with the painting which had already taken way longer than it should have, when the pair of them were suddenly interrupted.

“What are you doing in here?” Ralsei demanded from the doorway. Both Swatch and Queen turned to look at the prince, who looked like all his fur was puffed up in annoyance.

“Isn’t It Obvious?” Queen stated haughtily, raising her nose into the air slightly as she gestured around with her cocktail glass of bright green battery acid she had been sipping on all afternoon. “I’m Redecorating.”

“But… why?” Ralsei gritted out, his voice strained with exasperation. “You’re painting over it with the exact same blue!” He pointed accusingly at the wall while his eyebrows pulled together in an expression of frustration.

“No, It Isn’t,” Queen claimed with a small frown.

“Yes, it is!” Ralsei argued back firmly.

“I Think You Will Find: It Is Not,” Queen shot back, walking over closer to the prince as they bickered so she could loom over him as a form of intimidation.

Since technically Swatch hadn’t been told to stop, they kept painting while the pair of monarchs debated on the colour, the bird trying to tune them out. After all, they would get it finished a lot quicker while Queen was distracted.

“It’s not just the fact that you are uselessly repainting a room I worked hard on the exact same colour. It’s that your making poor Swatch do it all for you!” Ralsei pointed over at them. Swatch had tuned back into the conversation at the mention of their name and looked up from their work in slight surprise. “They are not your personal butler anymore, remember?”

“I Am Struggling To Find The Logic In Your Statement,” Queen said, mouth set in a thoughtful line and looking somewhat vexed.

“You aren’t a ruler anymore; you don’t just get to boss people around! That’s not what good rulers do anyway!” Ralsei argued righteously, pointing a clawed finger up in Queen’s face.

“I Think You Will Find That I Am Not Bossing Anyone,” Queen asserted. “I Simply Asked My Good Dear Friend Swatch If They Would Assist Me, And They Are Always Happy To Help. Isn’t That Right, Swatch Dearest?”

“Of course, my lady, anything for you,” Swatch was reaching the point where they wanted to gag on the forced words. Growing self-awareness sucked.

“See? They Love Serving Me!” Queen laughed in victory.

Ralsei’s finger slowly fell from where he was holding it up, as he looked at Swatch with confusion and disbelief. “I… don’t think they have a choice…” the prince mumbled. Swatch’s heart skipped a beat. Now ignoring Queen, Ralsei walked across the room to where Swatch was crouched painting around an outlet near the bottom of the wall. This meant that as Ralsei approached, Swatch was at eye level to the small prince.

Ralsei titled his head slightly to the side as he examined the bird. Swatch’s heart was suddenly racing. Had the prince figured them out? Unexpectedly, Ralsei reached out his white paw, holding it in the air.

“Give me the brush Swatch. Go back to your café,” Ralsei sighed, paw held out expectantly.

“Of course, young master Ralsei, right away,” Swatch said automatically, handing over the paint brush and rising to their feet. Technically they were just obeying another order, but at least it was going to allow them to get out of there. Swatch bowed slightly, and Ralsei gave them a strange look but didn’t say any more to them.

“Oh Lighten Up Peach Boy,” Queen said dismissively as Ralsei turned to frown at her. Swatch hurried out the door before they had to hear any more.

As Swatch left the castle, they checked the time. It was already well into the evening, past closing time for their café. They trusted that the Swatchlings would have taken care of all the tidying and closing up for the day, so there was no reason to go there. But still they had to fight the compulsion to obey Ralsei’s command to go there. They collected themself for a moment, sighed, and started walking home.

----------

Spamton was sat on the front step of the Swatchling’s share house, a blanket wrapped around his small frame. He had insisted he wanted to wait out there for Swatch to return, refusing the Swatchlings never ending offering of him having dinner with them. In the end, they made sure that he would be warm out there at least.

They were all acting like there was nothing amiss, like it was normal for Queen to hold up Swatch for so long. When they hadn’t returned to the café before closing time, and all the Swatchlings had been getting ready to leave, Spamton had become concerned. But the Swatchlings didn’t seem worried in the slightest, and when Spamton had voiced his concerns they all just gave the puppet blank stares, before reassuring him that Swatch would be home whenever they had finished serving Queen.

Spamton was pulling the blanket tighter around himself when he noticed a figure in the distance down the street. The white parts of their suit stood out well even in the dark of night. Spamton watched Swatch approach, the puppet getting to his feet. Swatch seemed to spot Spamton, and a look of trepidation spread across their face.

“What are you doing out here, Spamton?” the bird asked as they approached.

“WAITING FOR MY [Best Friend],” Spamton said, putting his hands on his hips. “IT;S WELL WELL WELL PAST CURFEW YOUNG [[Man, Woman or Child]]. WHER3 HAVE YOU BEEN??”

Swatch’s grim expression suddenly broke into a smile. “I was just… ah... never mind,” they shook their head and the smile faded, and Swatch stepped over to the door to their own house. Spamton grabbed up the blanket hopped down off the steps, scurrying to keep up with the tall bird’s strides.

“I’m really your best friend? I’m honoured,” Swatch chuckled as they got the door open. Spamton suddenly felt like he had been shot through the heart, and he was lost for word as they entered the house.

“Did the Swatchlings feed you?” Swatch continued as they walked into the kitchen area, while Spamton made his way to the couch to add the new blanket to his nest.

“THEY TRIED    , BUT I DIDN’T WANT TO [[Wine and Dine]] WITHOUT YOU,” Spamton partially mumbled, not wanting to betray how concerned he had been.

“You didn’t have to wait for me you know, I can take care of myself,” Swatch stated as they started getting out ingredients to cook dinner.

“But you can’t stand up for yourself,” Spamton muttered lowly, hopping back down off the couch.

“What was that?” Swatch asked loudly.

“I DIDN’T SAY [Anything],” Spamton claimed as he walked over to the table. He climbed up the ladder on the side that Swatch had installed for him so he could easily get up on the table. “WHY DO YOU DO WHA TEVER THAT [[ValuedCustomer]] ASKS YOU TO? IS SHE [[Blackmailing]] YOU OR              ?”

“Ha ha, no not at all,” Swatch dismissed with a laugh as they continued to cook.

“THEN WHY [Why]???” Spamton demanded.

Swatch was quiet for a moment. “Old habits… die hard, I guess,” they said flatly, staying turned away from Spamton so he couldn’t see their face.

Spamton felt a bit bad. He didn’t want to upset Swatch. But he did want to get to the bottom of this mystery. Was the bird literally incapable of denying Queen’s requests? Or anyone they felt they needed to be of service to? The answer to that question could have disturbing repercussions. How much of what Swatch did was of their own free will? Had they taken care of Spamton because they actually wanted to, or because they felt they had to? Did they even like Spamton at all, or was it all a lie?

While simmering on these thoughts Spamton put on his own façade of cheerfulness over dinner. He acted as if there was nothing wrong, while formulating a plan in his head to help him uncover the truth. It was simple, but hopefully effective. He waited until they finished their meal and had moved to the couch to watch television. Over the past few days Spamton had grown less jumpy about watching the idiot box, though avoided channels with lots of advertisements.

He waited until Swatch had gotten comfy on the other half of the couch. Then he spoke. “OH, ACTUALLY, [[Big Shot]], WOULD YOU MIND GETTING ME A DRINK?” he asked blithely.

Swatch was out of their chair in the blink of an eye. “Of course, what would you like?” they asked with a slight smile.

“TEA, [[Please]].” Spamton said with a fake grin.

“How many sugars?” Swatch asked as they started walking towards the kitchen area.

“2 [[Please]].”

Swatch nodded and went into the kitchen to make the beverage. Spamton shuffled in his spot, feeling some discomfort about what he was about to do to his friend, but he needed to know. He grabbed up the remote and flicked through channels to distract himself while he waited.

After a while Swatch brought the freshly made tea over to Spamton, setting it down on the coffee table in front of the puppet with a polite smile and sitting down next to him again. Spamton put on an expression of looking pleased, and picked up the little teacup and saucer, sipping on the beverage. It was perfectly fine.

“OH, NO, ACTU4LLY, THAT’S [[Too Sweet]],” he lied, making a face. “I’D HATE TO BOTHER YOU [[Best Buddy Old Pal Old Friend]], BUT COULD YOU MAKE ANOTH3R CUP?”

A look of concern briefly passed over Swatch’s face, but they reached out and took the cup and saucer from Spamton and rose, heading back into the kitchen. The guilt was already starting to gnaw at the puppet’s guts, but he couldn’t back out now.

After a while, Swatch brought the new freshly made cup of tea over to Spamton, handing it over with a more awkward smile this time. Spamton looked up at them with a beaming grin and patted the couch cushion next to him. The bird took a seat, and Spamton took a sip. The tea was still fine.

“HRMM… AH… HMM…” Spamton made obvious noises of dissatisfaction, and Swatch looked down at him with apprehension.

“Is there something the matter?” Swatch asked tentatively.

“AH WELL, YOU SEE [[Old Chap]], IT;S NOT QUITE RIGHT STILL. TOO MUCH [Milk],” Spamton lied again. “I HATE TO BE [That Guy]      , BUT WOULD IT BE TOO MUCH TOO MUCH TROUBLE FOR YOU TO MAKE ANOTHER CUP???”

Swatch’s body stiffened slightly. “Not at all, I’ll get on it right away,” they said, quickly taking the cup and saucer Spamton was holding out and getting to their feet again.

They went back and forth like this a few times, each time Spamton acting like there was something wrong with the beverage which required it to be remade, like it wasn’t hot enough, etc. There was no more smiling from Swatch, they wore a very blank expression as they went back and forth trying to fulfil Spamton’s request.

Swatch walked up to the coffee table holding the 6^th cup of tea. Spamton could hear the clink of the ceramic cup hitting the saucer as Swatch’s wing shook with fury. He could see it in the bird’s eyes now as well, even though the rest of their face remained impassive.

“GO ON. YOU KNOW YOU W4NT TO [[Throw it at me, baby!]].” Spamton said with a knowing, sly grin.

“Excuse me?” Swatch grated out with some confusion.

“I KNOW YOU;RE [[Pissed]]. I CAN SEE IT IN YOUR [Eyes],” Spamton incited, now sitting up and forward. “SO THROW THE TEA ON ME, I KNOW YOU [[Want To]].”

“How absurd, I would never do something so uncouth,” Swatch replied indignantly, but their eyes told a different story. The cup rattled louder.

“YOU KNOW YOU [[Want To]]. I'M AN ANNOYING, [Entitled] LITTLE [[$!$!]]. AT LEAST FLIP ME THE [Goddamn Bird] OR SOM ETHING!!!” Spamton continued to provoke, now on his feet and doing a stupid little ‘throw something at me’ dance.

“I… can’t…” Swatch said with a shaky breath, averting their gaze down to the ground, their whole body shaking. Suddenly they set the cup and saucer down on the coffee table and quickly walked off into their bedroom, avoiding looking at Spamton. They didn’t exactly slam the door behind them but did shut it more roughly than usual.

Spamton’s face fell, and his stomach dropped. His fears had been realised, somewhat, though that… didn’t really help him to understand Swatch better at all. Now he just felt terrible for trying to push the bird like that and upsetting them. He may have just really fucked up.

Chapter Text

Swatch pressed their back against the bedroom door, their legs feeling weak beneath them, and then slowly started sliding down it until they were sitting on the floor. They pulled their shaky knees up towards their chest, wrapping their wings around them and huddling into themself. Their mouth felt dry, and their breathing kept catching in their throat as they tried to slow it down. Their body trembled with a mix of anger and frustration, along with some embarrassment.

Once they had mostly got their breathing under control, Swatch leaned back against the door more, allowing one of their legs to stretch out on the floor as it had started to cramp. They heard a small knock on the door they had their back against. They opened their mouth to try and tell Spamton to go away, but no sound came out.

“HEY [[Big Shot]] LOOK I’M…. SORRY I’M SORRY I;M SORRY i’M SORRY        I’M SORRY” Spamton seemed to get stuck in that loop for quite a while, before his voice fell silent again. It would have been funny if it weren’t so sad. Swatch didn’t even try to reply.

“NICE GOING [[Idiot]]!!! WHAT THE HELL KIND OF [Half-pr1ce Deal] WAS TH4T?” Spamton seemed to be muttering to himself, though it was loud enough for Swatch to hear through the door. “[[Buy Now!]] THEY’RE GONNA THEY;RE GONNA TH3Y’RE GONNA THEY’RE GONNA       !”

Swatch felt a little bit bad for the puppet, who sounded like he was panicking himself a bit. There was an urge to go out and comfort him, but they managed to squash it.

“PLEASE [[Answer the phone]]! I’M SORRY I;M SORRY I’M SORRY I DIDn’T MEAN FOR IT TO [[Go That Far!]].” Spamton begged from the other side of the door pitifully. “I WAS [Stupid]![Stupid.!][Stupid]!”

Swatch heard Spamton slump to the floor behind the door. “I [Know what it’s like] TO [[Lose Control]]. I’M A [[Goddamn]] PUPPET TOO.”

There was a moment of pause. “YOU PROBABALY NEV3R EVEN [[Wanted]] ME TO STAY HERE.”

“That’s not true…” Swatch said softly, finally finding their voice again.

“WHAT WAS TH4T? DID YOU SAY SOM ETHING [[Buddy]]?” Spamton chirped hopefully from the other side.

Swatch exhaled deeply and shuffled over until they were sitting beside the door with their back against the wall, and reached up and turned the handle, pulling it open. On the other side Spamton stood, looking up at them with apprehension.

“I wanted you to stay,” Swatch said as they let go of the door handle and rested their wing on their knee.

“REALLY?” Spamton asked uncertainly, with a tight smile and pleading eyes. “BUT… HOW DO I KNOW YOU [[Really Mean It]]? ARE YOU JUST SAYING IT TO [Be Polite]?”

Swatch shook their head slowly.

“ARE YOU JUST REASSURING TO [Be Nice]?” Spamton pressed further, looking down as his own fingers as he fidgeted. “HOW CAN I TELL IF AN YTHING YOU EV3R SAY IS [[GenuineProduct]] OR JUST BECAUSE YOU [Have To]??”

Swatch just glared at the puppet as intensely as possible, which made the little businessman shrivel up under his burning gaze.

“A-AH… [[Point Taken]], YOUR EYES DON’T [Lye] ABOUT IT.”

Swatch gave a small curt nod, then rested their head against the door frame, feeling exhausted.

“HOW ABOUT…” Spamton started, looking thoughtful. “HOW ABOUT INSTEAD OF THINKING OF ME AS YOUR [[Honoured Guest]]    , MAYBE I COULD BE YOUR [Roomate]? YOU DON’T HAVE TO [[Best Service in the City!]] YOUR [Roomate] RIGHT.?”

“Oh,” Swatch breathed. They hadn’t considered something like that. Perhaps it could even work. They nodded slightly in agreement.

“THAT;S [[Great!]][[Fantastic!]][I love it!],” Spamton looked pretty pleased with himself, his grin now genuine. “AND [You Know], ITS NOT A [Social Faux Par] TO [[Thow Away]] YOUR [Roommate] IF THEY ARE AN [Incredible] ANNOYING LITTLE [[$!$!]]. SO IF YOU [[Want To]] NOWS YOUR CH4NCE    !” The puppet said with false enthusiasm, striking a stupid little pose inviting Swatch to throw him out.

Swatch shook their head, the hint of a smile tugging at their mouth. “I want you to stay,” they repeated softly.

“W-WELL, IF YOU ARE [Sure],” Spamton said uneasily. “I [Promise] I Won’T TRY TO [Order] YOU AROUND AGAIN. YOU CAN EVEN GET [Revenge] IF YOU LIKE… YELL AT ME, HIT ME, PICK ME UP AND [[Shake Me Like A Doll]], [[I Don’t Mind At All]]!”

Swatch rose from the floor, straightening up their suit. As they looked down at the puppet, he took a nervous step backwards, eyes darting around, looking instantly regretful.

“I’m not angry anymore, Spamton,” Swatch reassured, waving their wings slowly in front of them to indicate the salesman should calm down. “Well… okay, I’m still a little mad at you, but I’m not going to hit you.” The puppet looked relieved, body relaxing slightly.

“WELL… LET ME [Make It Up To You] THEN,” Spamton smiled and gestured for Swatch to step closer. Swatch gave Spamton a confused look, but stepped through the bedroom door until they loomed over the tiny man. Spamton continued to smile mischievously and gesture. Swatch knelt down on the floor in front of the puppet, staring at him in puzzlement. Spamton’s smile grew even wider, and he gestured more furiously for Swatch to come even closer. Swatch bent forward until they were face to face with the tiny puppet.

Spamton reached up a hand and quickly patted Swatch on the head. “EAHAEHAEHAEHAEH!!!” he laughed as he quickly scurried away, back to the couch.

He missed out on seeing Swatch blush furiously.

----------

Spamton attempted to help Swatch break their programming and learn how to say no to requests. It certainly seemed to help that Swatch was trying to view Spamton through a different lens, not as a guest to serve but as an equal. Though it didn’t exactly help that Spamton needed Swatch to help him with a lot of things because he was so small, so Swatch couldn’t just say no to everything Spamton requested.

When they practiced and Swatch was prepared to deny a request, they could do it pretty easily. However, their first instinct was still always to try and assist with any request. So, when Spamton tried to test them by catching them off guard sometimes with stupid requests, they would often automatically comply.

“HEY [[BIG SHOT]] CAN YOU PUT ME IN THE [[Refrigerator]]?” Spamton asked blithely with an impish grin.

“Certainly,” Swatch replied automatically, stopping what they were doing and reaching down to picking up the puppet before walking towards the fridge.

“W-WAIT NO! [Stop]!! THAT WAS A TEST WHY THE [[$!$!]] WOULD YOU ACTU4LLY PUT ME IN THE FRIDGE,       [Help!]” Spamton protested as he struggled in the bird’s grip.

“Oh… my apologies…” Swatch said meekly when they realised, their face flushing a bit as they set Spamton back down.

Of course, Swatch was still also excessively polite with their mannerisms. Spamton didn’t know if this was a part of their compulsions or just their personality. It was also still a bit hard to tell if they always meant what they said. It was important to read the most subtle clues in their body language, and they usually only showed their true emotions through their eyes.

However, Swatch actually started to open up to Spamton about their feelings, especially regarding Queen. Spamton encouraged them to try and say no to her the next time she asked them to do something.

“THE NEXT TIME THAT [Evil Hag] COMES IN HER3 AND MAKES A [[Request]], [Kick her To The Curb!]!” Spamton said, followed by manic laughter.

Swatch sighed in exasperation, resting their head in one wing which was propped up by their elbow on the service counter. “Spamton, first of all, she’s not really that evil. She thinks that I like helping her, like I used to,” they started to explain. “And secondly, I… I don’t think I could do that.”

“[[Fine]]!! JUST [[Politely Decline]] THEN!” Spamton suggested with less enthusiasm. “YOU Don’T HAVE TO [Serve] HER ANYMORE! SHE IS NOT [Above] YOU, RALSEI SAID WE ARE [[All Equal]]! GET THAT THROUGH YOUR [Beautiful Head].” Spamton stood on the counter, legs apart, pointing at Swatch.

Swatch looked a bit startled for a moment, before clearing their throat. “I know… but I told you… old habits die hard.” They looked around the café uneasily, even though there wasn’t that many customers. “And try to keep your voice down, please?”

The front door chime sounded as it opened, and the two of them looked around to see who it was.

“Speak of the devil,” Spamton said very quietly as he moved a bit out of the way, taking a seat next to the coffee machine.

“Hush!” Swatch hissed, before flashing Queen a customer service smile as she approached.

“My Queen, it’s good to see you. What would you like to order today?” Swatch asked politely.

“Swatch Dearest Honey Darling Gravy. I Am Throwing A Party At The Castle This Saturday And I Shall Require: Catering.” She looked at them with an expectant smile.

Spamton looked between the two of them eagerly, his hands clenched in little fists. He noticed Swatch's words catch in their throat for a moment, as they swallowed deeply.

“Of course, my Queen,” they finally said, much to Spamton’s disappointment. His face fell. “What did you have in mind exactly?”

“LOL IDK,” she said with a haughty laugh, the letters IDK appearing on her face screen in red text. “I’ll Leave All The Details Up To You To Sort Out. Just Know The Whole Town Is Requ- Ah, Invited.”

“Certainly, my Queen,” Swatch said as Queen strode away, looking very pleased as she left. Once she was gone through the door, Swatch glanced back down at Spamton. Spamton looked up at the bird with stern disapproval.

“WHAT WERE WE [[Just]] TALKING AB04T!” Spamton said accusingly, gesturing for emphasis.

Swatch rubbed the back of their head with one wing awkwardly. “Sorry… I couldn’t exactly say no to a formal business request like that.”

“YES, YOU COULD H4VE! YOU COULD HAVE SAID WE ARE TOO [Busy][Busy] [[On a Saturday Night]] TO TAKE ON SUCH A REQU3ST!” Spamton pointed out in frustration.

“There are plenty of Swatchlings to close up the café plus set up the event…” Swatch trailed off, their shoulders drooped, and then they suddenly slammed their face down into the counter.

Spamton jumped to his feet in shock and rushed over next to Swatch to see if they were okay. “She’s going to expecting me to organise everything, not just the food,” they groaned into the surface. Spamton frowned, then reached out a small hand to gently pat the bird's head for comfort.

“DOn’T WORRY, I’ll [Help]   ,” Spamton reassured as Swatch lifted themself from the counter and straightened up, adjusting their glasses. “BUT DON’T GO [[Over The Top]] FOR HER, AND MAKE THIS THE [[Last Chance]] TIME YOU SAY YES TO AN YTHING EXCEPT HER [Ordering A Drink].”

Swatch sighed. “Okay, thanks Spamton, I’ll try.”

Chapter Text

For the rest of the week, after they sent the Swatchlings home and closed up the café, Spamton and Swatch worked on plans for Queen’s party. They took a few trips to the castle to scout out which rooms would be used and to draw up how they would set them out. They planned the menu of hors d’oeuvres and cocktails, the décor, seating arrangements and more.

It had actually been quite pleasant though, despite all the extra work they needed to put in. While they had worked away, they chatted and bonded together. Spamton had joked and laughed a lot, trying to keep the bird’s spirits up. Swatch seemed to genuinely enjoy the puppet’s company and appreciated his attempts to cheer them up.

For example, when Spamton noticed Swatch looking very concerned over calculating the amount of food and drink for the number of expected guests, he dropped his own task of drawing up invitations and walked across the café table over to them. The bird seemed to be lost deep in worried thought, their brow furrowed as their tired eyes stared at the page.

“SO, WHICH ROOM WILL BE THE [PIPIS] ROOM?” Spamton asked loudly, smiling stupidly up at Swatch. The bird blinked in surprise, focused their eyes down on the puppet, then tried to stifle a laugh as it slipped out their mouth.

“HE Y HE-Y! [PIPIS] ARE [[Serious Business]] YOU KNOW!” Spamton claimed, making a fist and slamming it into his palm for emphasis.

Swatch stared at Spamton with their mouth held closed tightly for a few second, before they threw their head back and erupted into howling laughter. Spamton jumped up and down and gestured with pretend anger, demanding Swatch respect the pipis, as the bird wheezed and slammed their fist down on the table.

Once Swatch got themself under control, they reached out and started ruffling up the puppet’s hair with their wing. This caused Spamton to pause his tirade, freezing in place under the physical touch. Swatch withdrew their wing and smiled down at him with both their mouth and eyes.

“H-H-HEY H EY! [[Respect]] THE DO!” Spamton finally stuttered out, reached up to smooth down his hair. Swatch chuckled and sighed, resting their chin on their wing as they looked at the salesman. Spamton suddenly felt a bit self-conscious under their gaze, and quickly excused himself back to his own work.

Later on, Spamton sat on the table, still trying to draw up invitations. He was experiencing some frustration with it, as his designs all came out looking like advertisements. He looked up at his companion who was still seated at the table with him. But he was surprised to see that Swatch had their head resting on their wings which were rested on the table, eyes closed and breathing deeply.

Spamton got to his feet, and quietly stepped over to the sleeping bird. He sat down next to Swatch’s head and studied their sleeping features. Their face looked relaxed for once. Spamton unconsciously reached out a hand and started gently stroking the black feathers on Swatch’s head.

Swatch stirred slightly, cracking open one eye and blinking at Spamton blearily. Then they leaned their head slightly into Spamton’s touch. Spamton stopped stroking in surprise, then pulled his hand away, holding his wrist slightly awkwardly with his other hand and feeling his painted cheeks start to burn.

“HEY BUDDY, SHOULD WE [[Pack It In]] FOR THE NIGHT?” Spamton quickly asked. “[[You Look Like You Could Use Some]] [Rest and Relaxation].”

Swatch yawned as they lifted their head up from the table, stretching their wings out behind their head. “Guess you’re right Spammy,” they said casually. Spamton’s breath hitched in their throat slightly at the use of the nickname.

Swatch looked down at him, and their expression turned slightly concerned. “Are you alright?” they asked.

Spamton’s heart sped up. “Y-YEAH, I’MFINE I'M FINE. [[You’re The One]] FALLING ASLEEP AT THE TABLE!” he quickly covered. “STOP WORRYING ABOUT ME AND PRACTICE SOME [Self-Care] [Big-Bird]!!”

“Alright alright,” Swatch said dismissively, flapping one wing in Spamton’s direction. They used their other wing to stifle another yawn before they set about packing away the stuff all over the table. Spamton helped with gathering up the notes and plans.

When Swatch grabbed up Spamton and set him on their shoulder to walk home, Spamton sat slightly closer to the bird’s head than usual, stealing a number of glances at them.

They had already eaten at the café earlier, as the Swatchlings had made them dinner and left it with them to have while they worked. So Spamton was insisting that Swatch go straight to bed when they got home, even though the bird kept insisting they were fine.

Once they got through the front door to Swatch’s house, Spamton jumped from Swatch’s shoulder to the floor, ran around behind them, and started pushing on their calf towards the bedroom. Obviously, it was only demonstrative, as he didn’t have the strength to actually push 200 pounds of bird around.

Swatch chortled and started slowly walking towards their bedroom, with Spamton still following behind trying to push them in that direction. Once they crossed the threshold into the bedroom, Spamton stood in the doorway, putting one hand on his hip and with the other pointing firmly at the bed.

“Okay okay, geeze you are persistent,” Swatch snickered, and before Spamton could even react, they started unbuttoning their jacket, hanging it neatly in their closet. Spamton stared in astonishment as Swatch quickly unbuttoned their shirt and slid it off. Even covered in feathers the tone and definition of their abdominal and chest muscles was clear to see.

Swatch noticed the puppet was still standing there and turned to look at them quizzically. Spamton felt frozen with his eyes fixated on the black feathered chest.

“Is there something you needed?” Swatch inquired as they started unbuttoning their pants.

Spamton opened his mouth but all that came from his throat was a dial-up tone. Panicking, he quickly shook his head to snap himself out of it. It seemed that Swatch took that gesture as a no, as they turned their attention back down to their hips, hooking feather fingers under the waistband ready to pull their pants down.

Spamton quickly turned and scuttled away, fleeing to his couch, heart racing out of his chest. He scrambled up and into his blanket/clothes nest, burying his face in it as he caught his breath. Why did Swatch have to be so god damn casual about taking their clothes off? He heard the bedroom door slowly close on the other side of the room.

----------

It was the day of Queen’s party, and Swatch had been run off their feet all morning overseeing all of the organisation to get things ready. They had left half of the Swatchlings with Spamton to run the café for the day and brought half with them to the castle to help set up the rooms. It was now the afternoon, and things had quietened down a bit as the majority of the set up was finished, and most of the Swatchlings were now focused on the beginning of the preparation of food and drink for the guests.

Ralsei emerged from the kitchen where he had gone to check on the Swatchlings, and approached Swatch, looking troubled. Swatch had an idea about what was to come, and already felt awkward before the conversation had even begun.

“It’s happening again Swatch. I know you probably can’t help it, but you’re letting her boss you around again,” the dark prince said with exasperation, brows furrowed.

“It’s not like that at all,” Swatch lied, waving a wing dismissively. “I couldn’t very well turn down a formal commission such as this for my business.”

“That is not really what I am talking about,” Ralsei said firmly. “How many times has she gotten you to move the tables today? Or even just in the past hour?”

Swatch glanced away. “Twenty,” they mumbled.

“Today?” Ralsei pressed.

“… in the past hour,” Swatch sighed, avoiding Ralsei’s intense gaze.

“Exactly!” Ralsei exclaimed, gesturing for emphasis. “She hasn’t seemed to have taken the hints I dropped her to stop doing that. Maybe I need to spell it out for her.”

“Please master Ralsei, it’s quite alright,” Swatch tried to placate, not wanting to start any issues with Queen just before the party.

“Ooooooh Swatch Darling,” Queen’s voice called out from the other side of the room. Swatch flinched slightly.

“Go into the kitchen, I’ll deal with her,” Ralsei said, looking determined. “Don’t worry, I’ll just tell her she’s not allowed to move the furniture anymore,” he added when he noticed Swatch flinch again.

Swatch sort of wanted to protest more, but they had been given an order by the prince. So, they just nodded and headed off towards the kitchen while Ralsei went to talk to Queen.

A few hours later Swatch was stationed at the castle doors, greeting the guests. This had always been their job when the Queen had thrown parties at her mansion because, despite being slightly shorter than the Swatchlings, they were considered the most handsome, the face of Queen's retinue. It used to not be out of the ordinary for guests to get flustered when Swatch greeted them, they seemed to have that effect on people.

Though now that everybody was living in this small castle town together, it was a much tighter knit community, where everybody knew everybody else and saw each other every day. Nearly all castle town residents were patrons of the Color Café now and were served by Swatch and the Swatchlings each day. So now when Swatch greeted guests at the door, the people greeted them back like a friend.

Seemed nearly the whole town had showed up, except Seam who was known to be an infamous shut in, and Mr Society who was still in self-exile. Swatch was greeting the last few guests when they felt something tug at his pant leg. They looked down to see Spamton standing at their heel.

“Oh, all finished up at the café Spam?” Swatch asked, reaching down a wing for the puppet to step onto. Spamton nodded and stepped up, Swatch lifting him up to speak to him.

“THE REST OF [[Your Family]] HAVE GONE INSIDE TO JOIN THE OTH3RS,” Spamton assured with a grin.

“Then we better join them,” Swatch said, walking with their wing held flat and balancing Spamton on it like they would a platter.

They found a spot in the room to watch the party more or less from the sidelines. Spamton stood on a table next to a big bowl of punch, and Swatch stood next to the table, still towering over him despite the puppet’s elevation. The Swatchlings were walking around the room carrying various platters, offering food and drinks to the guests in addition to what was available on the tables around the room. Music played behind the chatter of the guests.

Swatch glanced down at Spamton, and noticed he was suddenly staring intensely across the room, body held tense like a wound-up doll. Swatch followed the puppet’s gaze, then noticed the splash of colour that the group of Addisons made in the crowd. Swatch felt something grip their wing and turned to look down and saw Spamton clutching onto them, while trying to sort of hide behind their body out of view of his brothers.

“Why are you still avoiding them?” Swatch asked offhandedly.

“I DOn’T WANT TO WANT TO W4NT TO [Have A Friendly Chat] WITH THEM,” Spamton almost hissed, now clinging to Swatch’s suit jacket with both hands. “THEY DON’T GIVE A [Fresh Shitake Mushrooms!] ABOUT ME, SO I DON;T CARE ABOUT THEM EITH3R.”

“It kind of sounds like you do care,” Swatch pointed out.

Spamton shook his head vehemently. “I DON’T MISS [[Fake Friends]]. I’M DOING WAY WAY WAY BETTER WITHOUT THEM, THey’LL SEE.”

Swatch shrugged, turning back to look at the crowd of guests. They noticed Queen flitting around the room as well, wielding a martini glass full of bright green battery acid almost as if it were a weapon. She went from person to person, talking and laughing loudly and obnoxiously. Swatch prayed she wouldn’t head their way, and groaned when she spotted them and waved enthusiastically, walking over towards them.

Chapter Text

Swatch wanted to groan out loud as Queen came towards them. What else could she possibly want from them? The party seemed to be running perfectly smoothly thanks to all of Swatch and Spamton’s planning and preparation.

“Swatch Dear You Have Done An Excellent Job, This Party Is A Hoot! Really Takes Me Back To The Good Old Days,” Queen said flippantly as she approached them, acting as if living in her mansion was so long ago. “The Only Thing It’s Missing Is: Giant Pools Of Burning Acid.”

Queen took a big sip from her glass of battery acid, before leaning dramatically on Swatch. “Say, We Should Really Add Some Pools Of Acid To This Castle, Liven Up The Place A Bit.”

“I don’t think Master Ralsei would approve of that,” Swatch said quietly, looking at the floor.

“Psh,” Queen made a dismissive sound, pushing herself away from Swatch to try and straighten up. “Peach Boy Is Such A Party Pooper. A Real Stick In The Mud For Someone So Young.”

Queen’s gaze now fell on Spamton, who had come out from hiding behind Swatch. The puppet was watching the monarch with a critical eye. “And Who Is This Funny Little Fellow?” Queen slurred, leaning in towards Spamton slightly. The salesman looked perplexed.

“I’M SPAM TON G. SPAMTON!” Spamton announced in his salesman pitch style voice, still looking confused.

“Spamp…ton?” Queen asked, squinting her LED screen at the puppet.

“Don’T YOU REMEMBER ME??” Spamton questioned, looking slightly insulted.

“My lady…  he sponsored the funding for your giant robot,” Swatch explained incredulously. “You let him live in the mansion for a while because of that.”

“LMAO Really?” she laughed arrogantly, the letters LMAO appearing on her screen. “Wait, Didn’t We Throw Him Out?” she seemed to have gathered some vague recognition. “Why Are You Hanging Out With Such Riff Raff Like Him?”

Swatch felt the back of their neck prickle with annoyance, and narrowed their brow at Queen. “He’s my…” they trailed off for a moment, not sure what to say next.

“Your What?” Queen asked wryly with raised brows when Swatch paused.

“My businesses partner.”

“You Have Got To Be Kidding Me. When Did You Team Up With A Short Stack Like This?” Queen said loudly with derision. Some of the other guests were looking over at what was going on with their host. Spamton looked taken aback and insulted.

“He has been working in the café with me for weeks, you would have seen him when you came in all those times?” Swatch explained tersely, feeling their body tensing up.

“Oh, Well, You’ll Have To Forgive Me For Overlooking Someone So… Small…” Queen looked down at the puppet in a way that Swatch didn’t like at all; with borderline aversion. Spamton was glaring up at the robot with anger.

Before either of them could respond, Queen continued to speak. “Remember When We We’re Business Partners Swatch Dear? Remember The Good Times? Throwing People Like Spamptong Into The Acid? What Ever Happened To That?”

“You said you didn’t need servants anymore and went off to live in this castle with your son,” Swatch grated out.

“Oh That’s Right,” Queen said glibly with a short laugh. “I Do Feel Like I May Have Been A Bit Too Impulsive With That Decision Though. It Just Isn’t The Same Without You Around.”

Swatch’s wings clenched into fists. Oh no, she was not doing this to them.

“You Should Let Shorty Here Run The Café And Come Back To Work For Me, Swatch Dearest,” she said slyly. Swatch just glared at her with disbelief, heart racing and muscles tensing further.

“Just Think About It At Least” she said flippantly when the bird didn’t respond, waving casually over her shoulder as she strutted away into the crowd.

Swatch released a breath they didn’t realised they had been holding in, their chest aching from the pressure. They glanced back down at Spamton and noticed with alarm that the puppet was rolling up his sleeves, face contorted in fury. Swatch quickly reached out their wings to block Spamton from hopping off the table and going after Queen.

“LET ME AT HER LET ME AT HER, I’LL [[Bite]] HER [Ankles]!!!” Spamton growled, stomping one foot.

“That’s not the way to settle disagreements!” Swatch protested, using a wing to gently hold Spamton back.

“Spamton?” a puzzled voice said from off to the side. Swatch and Spamton froze and turned to look in that direction.

The blue Addison stood off to the side, wringing their hands in front of them as they stared at the little puppet. The other three brothers stood slightly behind them, looking stunned.

Swatch withdrew their wing from in front of Spamton and straightened up, adjusting their tie. Spamton was looking at his brothers completely dumbfounded, all anger having suddenly left his face. However, his expression soon contorted into anxiety.

The blue Addison, Video/Vivi (Swatch had learned their names from all the times they had ordered in the café), suddenly stepped forward and reached out, grabbing Spamton up off the table. Spamton squeaked as his brother pull his small body to their chest in a hug.

“HEY HE Y  H EY! [Hands] [100% Off] THE [[Merchandise]]!!!” The puppet squawked in slightly garbled tones as his brother crushed him in the embrace. The other Addisons had crowded around the pair as well, trying to get in close to their sibling.

“O-oh, sorry Spam,” Vivi stuttered with a blush, gently putting the puppet back down on the table. Spamton tried to compose himself as his brothers crowded around him. “It’s just… we thought you were…”

“Dead!” The pink one, Click, snapped loudly. “We thought you had literally died you know!”

“Calm down,” Survey, the orange one said, placing a placating hand on Click’s shoulders. The yellow one, Popup, who seemed like the eldest, nodded in agreement but didn’t say anything.

“We thought that when the Cyber World was deleted that you had been left behind,” Vivi explained, voice wobbling a bit with emotion.

Spamton made a dismissive noise as he smoothed down the sleeves of his jacket. “HA, LIKE [You Guys] WOULD REALLY CARE…”

“WE DO CARE!” Click exclaimed, pushing Vivi to the side slightly and pointing accusingly at Spamton. “We were looking for you once we realised what jackasses we had been to you!”

“YOU GUYS… [SearchTerms] FOR ME?” Spamton said with disbelief.

Vivi nodded. “I went to the mansion on the day you were being evicted to ask you to come back home… but you had disappeared…”

“The lightener came to us and they were wearing… your glasses,” Survey said, looking away. “But for some reason, they couldn’t really tell us what happened to you.”

“We started looking for you but then everything disappeared…” Vivi said forlornly.

“We looked for you here as well, but we couldn’t find any leads!” Click said animatedly.

“Where have you been?” Survey asked with concern.

A staticky noise came from Spamton’s throat as he tried to speak. “YOU… YOU YOU YOU GUYS… ACTU4LLY… CARE?”

“Of course we care about you, idiot! You’re our stupid little brother!” Click snapped. “You don’t know how much Vivi cried when we thought you were gone forever!”

“Hey!” Vivi interjected indignantly. “Don’t expose me like that Click!”

“We love you, Spam, you’re still our family,” Popup finally said something, looking sombre.

Spamton stared up at his siblings, and his eyes started to fill with tears. Soon fat droplets were rolling down his painted cheeks as he sniffled, falling to his knees on the table.

“I- I- I- I- I THOUGHT- I THOUGHT YOU ALL H-H-H4TED ME,” Spamton wailed, while the faces of his siblings filled with great concern. Swatch felt their feathers all fluff up a bit, and a compulsive desire to comfort Spamton, though they managed to hold themself back. This was a family thing, they shouldn’t intervene.

Popup stepped forward and picked up his littlest brother and cradled him against his chest as Spamton desperately tried to stop crying. The others all huddled around, embracing in one big group hug, little Spamton squished in the middle. Swatch noticed that the Addisons’ eyes were damp with tears as well.

“We never hated you Spam,” Survey reassured.

“We were just… jealous,” Click muttered as he glanced away. “Couldn’t be outdone by such a little punk like you.”

“We’re sorry, Spammy,” Vivi said remorsefully.

“We should have reached out before you disappeared,” Survey said. “Should have helped you.”

“We’re just… glad you’re alright,” Popup added, as Spamton buried his face in his oldest brother’s jacket.

Swatch couldn’t help but smile at the wholesome sibling moment. Spamton managed to get some control on his emotions, wiping his eyes as he stood up on his brother’s hands.

“Where have you been hiding from us though?” Click implored.

Spamton glanced over at Swatch. “A [[Kind Stranger]] GENEROUSLY TOOK ME IN,” he said with a small smile.

All the Addisons heads turned at once to stare at Swatch, making them feel a bit uncomfortable. They gave an awkward little wave with one wing. The Addisons turned back to stare at their brother, stunned by this revelation.

“You managed to score with tall dark and handsome?” Click asked in disbelief. “I mean, I know you liked them, but… how?”

“CLICK IF YOU DOn’T [Shut Your Mouth] RIGHT [$!$!]ING [[Now]] I’M GOING TO MAUL YOUR DAMN [Face][Off] I SWEAR TO [Heaven]!!!!” Spamton growled as he jumped up and down in Popup’s hands, shaking his little fists.

It was hilarious, but Swatch was too shocked to laugh. Spamton… what? Their thoughts slowed to a crawl. And… if the Addisons knew, it must have been for a long time. Swatch felt a slight blush creep across their face. They had an inkling that the puppet was attracted to them, but then most people were so that wasn’t out of the ordinary. But was there something more to it?

“Geeze Spammy okay calm down!” Click pleaded with his brother, who was now hanging in the air as Popup had grabbed the puppet up by the scruff to prevent him from leaping onto his sibling’s face to bite it off. Spamton was thrashing and growling like a rabid dog. After a minute though his fury seemed to quell, and he crossed his arms over his chest, scowling.

Popup walked up to Swatch and held out the puppet towards them. Spamton was now looking around slightly nervously as he dangled from the Addison’s grip. Swatch raised their brows, and then held out their wings for Spamton to be deposited upon them. Spamton sat on the dark feathers and stared downwards, away from Swatch, a furious blush tinting his pale face.

“Thanks for taking care of our baby brother,” Popup said as the other Addisons gathered around them, nodding in agreement.

Swatch smiled awkwardly at the gratitude. “It was nothing really, I enjoy his company.”

“We’ll let you keep him, but you better not hurt him!” Click warned with a wagging finger.

“GUY’S CAN YOU [Stop] EMB4RRASING ME [Please]!!!” Spamton had hopped to his feet on Swatch’s wings and turned around to shake a fist at his siblings. The Addisons started laughing at him, which only wound him up more, until he was jumping up and down and cursing them out again.

“Spammy you have to come visit us sometime,” Vivi said cheerily, reaching out and patting their fuming brother on the head. Spamton tried to bite the hand, but Vivi managed to snatch it away in time, just grinning at the attempt.

“Or perhaps we could meet at the café?” Survey suggested merrily.

“We’ll definitely come see you in there sometime,” Popup promised.

“But we’ll leave you alone with your ‘boyfriend’ for now,” Click added with a laugh as they all started moving away, waving and smiling as they went.

“I’M GOING TO [$!$!]ING [[Kill]] YOU!! YOU HEAR ME??? YOu'RE ALL [$!$!]ING [[Dead]]!!!” Spamton called out after them, gesturing angrily.

Swatch laughed as Spamton’s anger fizzled down, the puppet huffing and crossing his arms again. He then leaped from Swatch’s wings and onto the table again, making a show of brushing down his suit. Then he froze, and turned to look back up at Swatch, a look of fear on his face.

“DON’T DON’TDONT DON’T [[Listen To An ything They Say]]! THEY’RE JUST TRYING TO GET ON MY CASE [As Usual]. IN FACT, FOR GET ANY OF TH4T JUST HAPPENED,” Spamton rambled nervously, avoiding eye contact. Swatch grinned down at the little salesman in amusement.

Chapter Text

Swatch and Spamton didn’t run into Queen again for the rest of the party, so she managed to escape with her ankles intact, for now. The did spot the group of Addisons several times whispering and pointing at the pair of them, which made Spamton’s face flush red. Swatch secretly liked that look on the salesman.

At one point they also ran into that horrible blue butler whom Swatch hated. The way he seemed to leave a mysterious trail of worms around everywhere he went made the bird see red.

“Lo! If it isn’teth Queene’s EX-butler! Ha ha ha ha, how the mighteth hast fallen,” Rouxls crowed conceitedly, flicking his long white hair to the side. “I toldeth thou I wouldst be made our Monarcke’s Butler Supremeth!”

Swatch blinked at the man in disbelief. “Then why is it me running her party, and not you?” They genuinely wanted to know. This snivelling parasite seemed more than happy to serve Queen, so what need did she still have for Swatch?

Rouxls expression was suddenly torn between indignance and confusion. “Ah, well, thoust see, such things are Beneatheth my rank as her Left Hande Man. There art Responsibilities of more Import for me to attendeth to.”

“Such as…?” Swatch pressed, trying not to smirk.

Rouxls looked nervous for a second. “That is naught of thou Concern!” and with that the strange man turned and fled. Swatch and Spamton exchanged confused glances. They thankfully didn’t see Rouxls for the rest of the evening.

Once the party was finishing up, the Addisons made sure to come over and say goodbye to their little brother. They poked fun at their sibling, and Spamton threatened them all with severe bodily violence while holding a static grin. They promised they would visit the café soon.

Swatch and Spamton stayed behind to help the Swatchlings tidy everything up. Queen was nowhere to be found, and Swatch was relieved for that. They had been internally panicking about her ‘offer’ to come back to working for her. How were they going to tell her no when they literally weren’t able to?

Spamton seemed to pick up on what Swatch was feeling as they left the castle, patting the shoulder he was sitting on. “Don’T WORRY, IF [The Queen Of Mean] GETS WITHIN 10 FEET OF YOU I’ll [[Rip and Tear]] HER TO SHREDS!” the little puppet announced with all the confidence in the world. Swatch chuckled but didn’t feel very reassured. They doubted Spamton was capable of such and didn’t want any violence anyway.

“KINDA WISH I COULD HAVE KEPT THAT [Neo] BODY, I WOULD HAVE SQU4SHED HER LIKE A [[Bug]],” Spamton mused.

“She didn’t exactly order me to do anything…” Swatch said thoughtfully, mostly to themself. “She just… implied I should do it…”

“SHE JUST TRYING TO MAKE YOU FEEL [Guilty]. JUST STICK IN YOUR [AirPods] AND [[Ignore This E_mail To Die Instantly!]].” Spamton paused thoughtfully. “[Wait], DO BIRDS EVEN HAVE [Ears]??”

Swatch barked out a sharp laugh involuntarily. “Of course, we have ears, stupid,” as soon as the insult rolled out of their mouth Swatch snapped their beak shut, eyes going wide and body tensing up.

“HOLY [[Cungadero]], SWATCH      , DID YOU JUST SAY SOM ETHING ME4N TO ME?” Spamton seemed equal parts shocked and impressed, holding his hands up over his mouth.

“I- I- I- I- Oh my goodness I’m so sorry,” Swatch stuttered out as they covered their mouth with a wing, feeling flustered.

“NO, NO, THIS IS [[Great!]]      ! NOW JUST SAY IT TO QUEEN INST3AD OF ME!” Swatch could feel Spamton vibrating slightly with excitement.

“Good lord I could never do that,” Swatch responded, holding a clutched wing to their chest.

“SURE YOU CAN. HERE, LETS [Practice].” Spamton suddenly reached out and grabbed the upper and lower halves of Swatch’s beak, causing the bird’s shoulders to hunch in surprise. Then the puppet began moving Swatch’s beak open and closed while dubbing over the top like a ventriloquist. “HELLO QUEEN, [Horrible] TO SEE YOU. I JUST WANTED TO [[Let You Know]] THAT IT IS, [In Fact]     , YOU, WHO ARE THE [[Big Stupid]], AND YOU CAN TAKE YOUR [Offer] AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR [@$$]!!”

Swatch gently swatted Spamton away like he was some sort of annoying mosquito, making the puppet let go of their beak. “I don’t think so,” was all Swatch said in response, looking away.

“C’MON, Don’T YOU WANNA CALL YOUR OWN [Shots], MAKE YOU OWN [Deals]?” Spamton sounded a little exasperated. “DON’T YOU WANT [Freedom]?”

“Of course I do,” Swatch muttered as they turned the key in their front door’s lock and opened it, stepping inside.

“I’m starting to wonder who the real puppet is here,” Spamton muttered lowly, then suddenly his eyes went wide and his slapped his hands over his mouth as he registered that he had said that out loud. Swatch’s whole body tensed up again as they stared at Spamton in disbelief.

“W-W-WAIT WAIT WAIT! I’M SORRY, I DIDn’T MEAN TO-!” Spamton was looking at Swatch with horror. Swatch felt their tear ducts suddenly start to fill.

“NO NO N O NO NO NO DON’T CRY [[Big Shot]]! DON’T CRY DON’T CRY DON’T CRY” Spamton begged in panic.

“I’m not crying,” Swatch lied flatly as a tear rolled down their cheek.

Spamton reached up and started rapidly patting Swatch on the head. “IT’S [Okay]   , IT’S [Alright], SHHSHHSHHSHH,” Spamton attempted to placate, as the bird stared at him woefully. “I’LL TELL QUEENIE TO SOD OFF FOR YOU [[Next Time]] SHE COMES ASKING FOR [[A Little Something]].”

Swatch blinked away the tears, pulling themself together. While they appreciated Spamton’s well-meaning sentiment, they doubted Queen would listen to him, since it seemed she had no respect for him at all. There was still the option of going to Ralsei, but they would rather not. It didn’t really seem like Queen respected the dark prince’s authority either.

----------

A few days after the party, the Addisons had come to visit the café. Spamton stood on the table his siblings had sat around, speaking animatedly to them. Swatch smiled as they served the group macarons personally.

“So, Spam, you still wanna be a big shot?” Vivi teased lightly.

“I THINK AFTER [2] [Failed Attempt(s)] , THAT I’VE [[Learned That Lesson]],” Spamton said with a shrug. “I’VE GOT [Som ething Good Going On] NOW, WHY [[Risk It All]] FOR [Fame] AND KROMER?”

“Oh, is that so?” Click asked slyly, waggling his eyebrows, and glancing towards Swatch. Swatch tried not to blush, their feathers standing up on end. They attempted to subtly abscond back to the counter and make themself look busy, but could still hear the group speaking from there.

“SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!” Spamton yelled as he jumped up and down on the table. “CAN’T A [Guy] HAVE A [Friend]!!!”

“Do you need a pair of dating shoes?” Click pushed, smile wide with his enjoyment of his brother’s discomfort.

“GIVE ME YOUR [Shoes] AND I’LL BEAT YOU TO [[Death]] WITH THEM!!!” Spamton threatened. All the Addisons laughed and Spamton scowled at them.

“Go easy on him Click, he’s just a little guy,” Vivi said with a smirk.

“I’LL SHOW YOU A [Little Guy] IN A MI NUTE!” Spamton snapped. The Addisons fell quiet for a moment, before they all burst out in howling laughter. Spamton rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, tapping his foot and scowling at them while waiting for them to compose themselves.

“So, did you want to live with your family again Spammy?” Survey asked after the laughter had died down.

“AND GET [[Treated Like This]] EV ERYDAY? HA, [ No Thanks]!” Spamton said, maintaining his scowl.

“Awww c’mon now Spammy, you know we don’t mean anything by it,” Vivi said placatingly.

“[[You Guys]] ARE ACTUALLY KIND4 A BUNCH OF [@$$]HOLES, YOU KNOW THAT?” Spamton did not relent. “MAKING THIS [[Big Deal]] THAT YOU CARE AND THEN GOING [Straight To The] BULLYING AGAIN.”

The good humour left all of the Addisons faces, instead replaced by guilt. They were suddenly avoiding eye contact with their brother. Spamton actually looked pretty pleased with himself.

“Spam’s right, we do probably pick on him too much,” Popup said soberly, even though he hadn’t been the one bullying Spamton.

“I guess that’s why you didn’t want to come back home in the first place,” Survey said. “We should appreciate that he’s alive and here with us, rather than giving him a rough time.”

Spamton nodded along smugly, now smiling. “YOU GUYS BETTER [Respect] ME, OR I’LL HAVE SWATCH [Throw You Out].”

Popup looked at the other Addisons, and then nodded. “Sorry Spamton,” he offered genuinely.

Survey and Vivi said their apologies too. Vivi elbowed Click, who had his arms crossed over his chest, but then he conceded and apologised as well.

“[[Apology Accepted!]]” Spamton announced with a grin.

“Okay but seriously Spamton are you going to hit that or what?” Click said as he jerked his thumb in the direction of Swatch at the counter. “Because if you don’t, I will.”

Spamton grabbed up a newspaper off the table, went over to his brother and stating whacking him with it angrily. Click made a lot of pretend pain sounds between his laughter.

After having eaten their macarons and a bit more chatter, the Addisons said their goodbyes and left the Café. Spamton turned to Swatch and beckoned them over to the table.

“AND THAT’S HOW YOU [Stand Up For Yourself]!” The puppet said proudly. “EVEN IF YOU’RE JUST A JUST A [[Little Sponge]] LIKE ME, YOUR [Feelings] STILL MATTER.”

“You did that… just to teach me?” Swatch asked, bewildered.

“WELL, THAT AND BEC4USE I WAS GETTING A BIT [Sick] OF THEIR [$!X$],” Spamton clarified. “IF [Someone Like Me] CAN STAND UP FOR MYSELF, THEN [[You Can Too!!]]”

Swatch smiled softly down at the puppet. “I appreciate all your encouragement,” they said, offering out a wing to carry Spamton back over to the counter. “Should I try hitting Queen with a newspaper as well?”

“[[That sounds like a wonderful idea]]!” Spamton hopped up onto the offered wing with a big smile, and started rattling off about sticking it to Queen as they went back over.

After they had settled back into their usual spots, the door chime sounded. It was late in the afternoon, almost closing time, and they hadn’t really been expecting anymore customers. Swatch looked up to see who it was, and their muscles froze. If their face could have been any whiter it would have paled.

Queen strutted through the café door and towards the counter. Swatch felt the feathers on their back rising. Their wings gripped the countertop firmly. Queen’s face was plastered with a glib smile.

Chapter Text

“Hoo Hoo Hoo, Swatch My Dear, There You Are,” Queen called out as she advanced rapidly towards the service counter. Swatch felt the instinct to run but their legs were stuck in place.

Spamton quickly grabbed up a notepad and pen, stepping in between Swatch and Queen. “WHAT’LL IT BE, [Toots]?” he asked casually with a grin, making to take her order.

The robot looked down at the puppet with aversion. “I’m Not Here To Order Anything, Little Man,” she said dismissively, turning her attention back to Swatch, who shrunk somewhat under her gaze. Spamton crossed his arms over his chest as he glared at the monarch.

“You’ve Had Time To Think Over My Offer Of Coming Back To Work For Me At The Castle As Head Butler?” she asked Swatch sweetly with batting eyelashes. “We Can Do All The Things You Used To Love, Like Smashing Melons, And Barrels, And Barrels Full Of Melons.”

“I- I- I thought Rouxls was your new head butler?” Swatch somehow managed to ask, clutching their tie nervously.

“Who?” Queen asked in what seemed to be genuine confusion.

“Th-the blue guy?” Swatch offered, trying to swallow their nerves.

“Oh, Him? I Cannot Compute A Damn Thing That Guy Says,” she said dismissively. “And He Leaves Worms Everywhere He Goes. Between That And My Boy’s Fondness For Digging Holes, The Castle Is In A Real State. I’m Truly Desperate For Your Help.”

“SWATCH ISN’T [Interested] IN YOUR [[Deal]],” Spamton interjected, scowling up at Queen.

“CTRL F: Where I Asked You?” Queen huffed and returned the scowl towards the puppet. “What Do You Say, Swatchy?” her tone had turned syrupy sweet again as she addressed the bird.

Swatch felt like they had a lead ball stuck in their throat, and it was hard to get any words out. “Y-yes my Queen, you s-see, the thing about that is-”

“Oh So You Will? You Will For Me, Won’t You, Dearest?” the eyelash batting intensified. She had her hands clasped together, held against one cheek.

Swatch felt like their lungs has seized up under Queen’s expectant gaze. “O-“ they started, and faltered. “O-of course, my Queen.” Oh dear god no why did they just say that?

“W-WAIT, [[Hold On A Minute!]],” Spamton exclaimed loudly, looking between Swatch and Queen with utter disbelief.

“Wonderful!” Queen announced quickly, looking particularly pleased. “Well Hurry Up Then Dear, There’s Just So Much To Do!” she beckoned to them with a smile.

Swatch actually managed to hold themself in place for… a few seconds. Then they were stiffly walking around the counter to stand beside Queen. They glanced at Spamton, internally screaming for help.

“N-NOW WAIT JUST A GOD DAMN SECOND!” Spamton demanded very loudly, which caused Queen to stop and look over at him in surprise. “[[I Told You]], SWATCH DOESN’T WANT TO [[Work]] FOR YOU AN YMORE! SO LE4VE THEM ALONE!”

Queen frowned deeply at the salesman. “I Think You Misunderstand,” she said intimidatingly, emphasising each word carefully. “Swatch Loves Being My Willing Peon. I Still Have The Peon Release Form They Signed.”

“NO, THEY DON’T! TH3Y ARE JUST [[Forced]] TO OBEY YOU    ! AND YOU’RE TOO [Stupid] TO SEE IT!” Spamton pointed at Queen accusatorily.

Queen’s brows narrowed. “What Did You Just Call Me, You Ugly Little Computer Worm?” Anger started pulsing through Swatch’s chest at that.

“[[Stupid!!]]. YOu’RE COMPLETELY [[Oblivious]]! [Artificial Intelligence]]?? MORE LIKE [Artificial] IDIOT!” Spamton fumed.

An expression of rage contorted Queen’s face. “I Don’t Have To Put Up With Such Disrespect From A Defective Program. Know Your Place!” she growled, and advanced towards Spamton, hand raised. Fear suddenly filled the puppet's eyes, and he flinched backwards.

Swatch’s balled fist suddenly crashed into the side of Queen’s head with the sound of ringing metal. Queen was knocked right off her feet and into the nearby wall by the impact.

While Queen crumpled to the floor, Swatch stood frozen in place, arm outstretched, panting heavily. Adrenaline was racing through their whole body, and it felt like the world was pulsing. They barely registered the sudden pain in their fist.

“Don’t you fucking touch him!” Swatch growled lowly, withdrawing their fist and trying to straighten up. Their whole body was suddenly trembling.

As Queen sat up, the letters WTF? flashed up on her screen. She looked up at Swatch in pure shock.

Swatch looked around the scene before them as panic started to grip them. They saw the noticeable dent in the wall where Queen had impacted. They noticed Queen reaching up and gingerly touching the side of her head to see if there was a dent (there wasn’t). They noticed Spamton staring at them in awe, hands clasped over his mouth.

Swatch felt like they couldn’t breathe properly.

“What The Beep Swatch?” Queen asked in confusion.

“Get out of my café,” they managed to grunt at Queen, glaring at her as she got to her feet, though they weren’t sure how intimidating they looked with their whole body shaking.

Queen looked like she was about to say something, then thought better of it, instead huffing and walking out the front door as fast as she could, heels clacking loudly against the floor.

As soon as she was gone, Swatch’s legs gave out and they collapsed to their knees. They planted their wings on the floor in front of them to hold them up as they tried to breathe. But their lungs felt constricted, and they could only take in short sharp breaths.

Swatch heard the sound of Spamton jumping down from the counter as their vision began to swim. They rested their elbows on their knees and buried their face in their wings while they hyperventilated.

“SW4TCH, BUDDY, ARE YOU OKAY?” they could hear Spamton asking in concern, and felt a tugging on their sleeve. Swatch found they couldn’t respond though, couldn’t even move.

“HE Y EHY HEY IT’S OKAY     , THAT [[ValuedCustomer]] HAS HIGHTAILED IT,” Swatch could feel Spamton patting them on the knee comfortingly. Swatch just kept trying to suck in shuddering breaths.

“[[Friend]]?” Spamton asked with renewed concern. Swatch felt another tug on their sleeve. Then it seemed Spamton stepped up on their knees and started pulling at both their sleeves, trying to pull their wings away from their face.

Swatch slowly moved their wings away from their face, Spamton now hanging off their sleeves. The salesman regained his footing and hopped back down to the floor, looking up at the bird with worry. Swatch’s breathing had slowed.

“YOU [[Good]]?” Spamton asked apprehensively.

Swatch let out a long beath, then nodded slightly, though they weren’t sure if they were ‘good’ at all.

Spamton’s expression changed to one of awe. “[[Holy Moly]] THAT WAS [[Sweet As Hell]] OF YOU SWATCH. YOU LIKE ME [So Much] THAT YOU WOULD PROTECT ME?”

“Like you? Spamton I-” Swatch cut themself off, mouth still open. “I… care or you a lot, you know?” they turned their head away slightly.

“YOU… YOU DO?” Spamton still sounded slightly doubtful. “WELL… I ME4N      , THIS [[Tests Clearly Show That]] TO BE [100% Guaranteed True] I SUPPOSE.”

Swatch huffed out an anxious, breathy laugh, wincing slightly.

“THAT SURE WAS AN [[Explosive!]] WAY TO [[Break]] YOUR [Programming]!!” Spamton continued, clearly impressed. “YOU SURE [Sent Them Running]!”

Swatch withdrew their wings up towards their chest and hunched forward more, folding in on themself. “W-what have I done?” they asked in a shaky breath.

“YOU SHOW3D THAT [Hochi Mama] WHO’S BOSS!” Spamton announced, smiling proudly. “[[Loan Granted]], WITH A LITTLE MORE [Fireworks] THAN I WAS EXPECTING. YOU REALLY [Punched] HER INTO [Next Wednesday]!!”

“No… no no… how could I… do something like that?” Swatch muttered, staring down at their wings. “I was just so angry, and acted without thinking…”

“WELL     , I’M [Thankful] THAT YOU DID,” Spamton pointed out, looking a little more serious.

Swatch vision started to blur as their eyes filled with tears. Their throat hurt as they tried to hold down a sob that was threatening to escape.

Spamton seemed to notice this, and stepped forward to plant his hands on Swatch’s knees, looking up at them with concern again.

Swatch suddenly reached out and grabbed up Spamton, causing a small sound of surprise to escape from the puppet’s mouth. Swatch quickly crushed the puppet against their chest, wings enveloping his tiny body, his face poking out in the crook of Swatch’s neck. There was a small wheezing sound as the air escaped from Spamton’s body.

Swatch’s body heaved in silent sobbing for a few moments, until they felt the puppet squirming desperately in their crushing embrace. They released some of the pressure, and Spamton gasped for air. A small melancholy laugh escaped Swatch’s mouth.

Spamton’s feet scrabbled to get some purchase on the bird’s chest, his little hands gripped the suit as the puppet climbed upwards slightly, until he could sling his small arms part the way around Swatch’s neck. He pushed his rosy cheek into the feathers. Swatch was stunned out of their sobbing as the puppet hugged them as best he could. Swatch adjusted their wings slightly to support him.

“THERE THERE [Big Bird], YOU;RE ALRIGHT,” Spamton attempted to comfort accompanied with gentle pats to the back of Swatch’s neck.

“I’m afraid Spamton,” they croaked in an unsteady voice. “What will happen now?”

Spamton released his hold on Swatch’s neck, falling into the birds cupped wings. Sitting there, he looked up into Swatch’s moist eyes. “WELL, WE CAN GO BACK [Home], MAYBE GET [A Bite To Eat]?”

Swatch did a mix between a scoff and a laugh. “I… I meant with Queen… oh god I should really go apologise to her…” they said fretfully.

Spamton suddenly looked cross. “BULL[$!X$]!! SHE SHOULD [Deepest Apologies] TO YOU, NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND.”

Swatch shook their head twitchily. “But I… attacked her…”

“BECAUSE SHE WAS GOING TO [Slap] THE [$!X$] OUT OF ME!” Spamton said firmly, standing up in Swatch’s hands. “SHE WAS THE ONE WHO [Woke Up This Morning] AND CHOSE [[Violence]]. YOU SIMPLY [[Return Gift To Sender]]!”

Swatch breathed out a shaky sigh. “I can’t say I feel good about it,” they muttered.

“HEY, YOU PROVED THAT [[Even som eone like you can]] TAKE A STAND AG4INST HER, IN A WAY…” Spamton looked thoughtful. “AT LEAST MAYBE SHE’LL [Think Twice] BEFORE ASKING FOR AN YMORE [Favours] NOW.”

When Swatch didn’t respond Spamton sighed, then started climbing up their suit again to get onto their shoulder. “LETS JUST GO HOME AT LEAST, [Deal] WITH HER LATER?”

Swatch sniffed and nodded, using their now free wings to lift up their glasses and wipe their eyes. Spamton patted them on the shoulder as the got to their feet, speaking in a reassuring manner as they headed for the door.

Chapter Text

Despite Spamton’s attempts on the way home to distract them from what just happened, Swatch seemed very despondent when they reached the house. They had been cradling their right wing close to their chest, and when they reached the front door, fumbled using their left to get the key in and open it.

“IS  THERE SOM ETHING [[Wrong]]??” Spamton asked as they stepped inside, leaning forward on the shoulder he was perched on to try and get a better look at the wing.

Swatch also looked down at their wing. “I think that hurt me more than it hurt her…” they muttered quietly.

“IS IT [Broken]?” Spamton asked with concern.

Swatch shrugged very gently, considering the puppet was still perched on their shoulder.

“SHOULD WE [Take A RideAround Town] TO AN AMBU-LANCE???” Spamton suggested, eyebrows knitting with worry.

Swatch shook their head. “No, it’s not that bad,” they dismissed, though it sort of sounded like a lie. They reached up somewhat awkwardly to pluck Spamton off their shoulder with their left wing and lower him to the floor. Then they began shuffling towards their room.

Spamton watched them in confusion, before following slowly behind. Once Swatch reached their bedroom door, they turned to look at Spamton dejectedly.

“If you’re hungry… you can go over to the share house, the Swatchlings will make you something,” Swatch said in a very flat tone, moving through the door and closing it behind them before Spamton even had a chance to respond.

Spamton was left standing in the middle of the living area, alone.

His first instinct told him to go and try check on Swatch, though it seemed they had clearly indicated that they wanted to be alone. But if he went over to the share house to ask for food like Swatch had suggested, the Swatchlings may become suspicious of why Swatch hadn’t fed him and try to come and see them. Spamton assumed this was exactly what Swatch didn’t want.

Spamton went into the kitchen area and made a meal out of what things he could reach in the cupboards and fridge that didn’t need to be cooked. He took it all over to the couch and climbed into his blanket nest, which had grown to cover the whole of one of the cushions. Whenever Swatch would try and tidy it up, Spamton would get down on all fours and growl like a rabid dog, so there it stayed. Spamton had to have somewhere to keep his pipis after all.

Spamton turned on the TV to keep him company while he ate, and to try and distract him from worrying about Swatch. There was a tug of war going on in his head over leaving them alone like they clearly wanted or trying to comfort them. In the end leaving them alone was winning out, Spamton felt like he should respect their wishes. Plus, he wasn’t any good at the whole comforting people thing. Being the youngest sibling, it had usually been him on the receiving end of any comfort.

Spamton ended up falling into a restless sleep, curled up in his blanket nest with the TV still on.

When he awoke the room was dark. Extremely dark. He didn’t remember turning out the lights though. The only illumination was coming from the television screen. Spamton blinked at the screen in a daze. It took him a moment to realise that it was only playing static. As he stared at it in confusion, it sounded like the sound of static was growing louder. Spamton tried looking around the room but it was so dark that he couldn’t see anything but the TV. It felt like the darkness was intensifying like the static, creeping in towards him.

Spamton tried to flinch away from the encroaching void but felt resistance against his movements. He looked down at his arms and saw green strings attached to them, rising up into the darkness and then out of view. His eyes grew wide and he jumped to his feet, and started pulling against the strings he was attached to. They just swayed in the air with his movements.

Spamton started looking all around himself in panic, trying to figure out what was going on. Something on the television screen caught his attention again. The screen looked like it was… smiling.

The strings pulled taut.

Spamton’s body lurched forward as he sat up in his nest, eyes flying open. He stared blankly ahead of him as he breathed heavily, body trembling slightly. Blinking in confusion, he quickly looked down at his arms. There were no signs of any strings. He also realised that the room wasn’t dark, it was still brightly illuminated by the light he had left on. Spamton turned his head slowly to look at the TV, which was softly playing a normal advertisement.

Spamton sighed, releasing some of the tension in his body. Then he laid down on his back and stared at the ceiling as the nightmare slowly released its grip on him.

Bad dreams weren’t uncommon for Spamton, though so far he mad managed to hide them from Swatch. No point in bringing them up after all. If he could handle them while shivering in the bottom of a dumpster, he could handle them here.

Spamton didn’t want to go back to sleep, so stayed awake until he could see light behind the curtains. Swatch would usually be up by now, but Spamton hadn’t heard a peep from their room.

There was a knock at the door. Spamton hopped off the couch and ran over to it. He stuck his head through the cat flap Swatch had installed in the door for him and looked up to see who it was. A crowd of white pointed faces stared down at him.

One of the Swatchlings bent down and pulled Spamton through the flap, lifting him up to their height. They held him under both his arms, his legs dangling in the air.

“HEY    , EVERY BUDDY,” Spamton said slightly uneasily. The Swatchlings all looked at Spamton expectantly, and he suddenly realised that he was going to have to try and cover for Swatch.

“A-AH. I’M [Afraid] THAT SWATCH IS [[Feeling a bit under the weather?]] TODAY,” Spamton explained. The Swatchlings exchanged concerned glances.

“O-OH, [Please] DON’T WORRY DOn'T WORRY, I WILL [Stay Here!] AND TAKE CARE OF TH3M, WHILE YOU ALL [Go Get That Bread!],” Spamton reassured with a tense smile.

The Swatchlings looked at each other again, before shrugging and nodding in agreement. The one holding Spamton placed the puppet gently back down on the ground. Spamton made the confident gesture of finger guns at the group of birds who were waving him goodbye, before he scrabbled back through the cat flap.

Spamton was feeling anything but confident. His worry for Swatch was growing and he had no idea what to do. He didn’t want to invade the bird’s privacy and make them uncomfortable. He was also too small to be of any use in helping Swatch anyway, it wasn’t like he could make them soup or anything as an excuse to go into their room. He decided to keep waiting for now.

----------

Swatch didn’t come out of their room for the whole day. Spamton had been stuck in anxious indecision. When the Swatchlings came home in the evening, Spamton went to visit them. He lied about Swatch being okay and asked the birds if they could make a nice soup that Spamton could give to their leader. The Swatchlings were happy to oblige, and quickly made a delicious smelling broth. They made Spamton eat some first, giving him pats on the head before sending him tottering home with a steaming bowl full of soup.

Spamton made it through the cat door into the house without spilling much of the soup. He approached the bedroom door and knocked lightly, turning his mouth up in a smile. He waited expectantly for a response, but none came. His smile faltered. He knocked again, getting his head close to the door to better hear any response. None came, only silence.

Spamton knocked one more time. “SWATCH? ARE YOU [Okie Dokie!] IN THERE???” He called out. “I HAVE SOME DELICIS [Soup] FOR YOU, IF YOu’LL LET ME IN??”

There was no response from the bedroom.

Spamton had no way of opening the bedroom door to let himself in. He didn’t have a step stool or anything, nothing he could move in front of it to get up on to reach the handle. The door had suddenly become an impassable barrier between him and Swatch. He could only get in if Swatch let him in, or if he got the Swatchlings to help.

Spamton sat down next to the door, placing the bowl of soup down on the floor. He leaned his back against the wall and sighed. “I’m worried about you…” the words slipped though his mouth very quietly. He felt like his guts were knotting up in his abdomen.

After a little while he got back to his feet and walked away from the door, going back over to the couch. As Spamton scrabbled up onto the furniture he heard the sound of the bedroom door gently open, and then close. He quickly climbed up the back of the couch and peered over it towards the door. The bowl of soup had disappeared from the floor.

Spamton sighed and collapsed back into his nest again. At least that was something.

Spamton endured another night of restless sleep, even though he made sure to turn the TV off before dozing off. Swatch didn’t come out the following morning either. Spamton tried knocking and talking to them through the door again, but there was no response. His anxiety was building in his chest.

He decided to go to work with the Swatchlings instead of sitting around worrying all day again. He resolved to maintain the lie that Swatch was okay, saying they were taking another day off to rest. Spamton had decided that if Swatch hadn’t left their room by the end of the day, he was going to take drastic action.

Of course, being busy with work didn’t help alleviate all of his anxiety. Concern for Swatch sat in the back of his mind. He also did fret a bit over what he would do if Queen came into the café looking for trouble, but that luckily didn’t happen. However, the Swatchlings seemed to be slowly picking up on his unease, giving him concerned looks throughout the day.

Once they had finished up for the day, the birds suddenly cornered and confronted Spamton, crowding around him, asking him what was going on.

“HEY HE-Y GUYS, IT;S IT'S [Nothing], DOn’T WORRY ABOUT IT,” the salesman tried to rebuff, but they pressed him. It was a bit intimidating, being questioned by a bunch of nine-foot-tall buff birds, even if their intentions were only good.

“O-OKAY… FINE…” he said, swallowing hard. “I HAVEN’T ACTU4LLY SEEN SWATCH IN THE PAST 2 DAYS… THEY’VE BEEN [Hiding] IN THEIR ROOM, AND I AND I AND I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO.”

There was suddenly a flurry of ‘why didn’t you say something’, ‘why did you hide it from us’ and worried looks between them. They didn’t even seem particularly mad that Spamton had lied to them, just more concerned than ever.

“I’M SORRY… I JUST THOUGHT THEY [[Wanted Space]]. I DIDn’T THINK THEY WOULD [Appreciate] ALL OF YOU CROWDING IN ON THEM,” Spamton spoke to the anxious faces around him. “IF YOU COULD [HelpMe] GET THROUGH THEIR DOOR THOUGH, I COULD TRY AND T4LK TO THEM.”

The Swatchlings agreed hesitantly, and the group of them headed home, Spamton riding on one of their shoulders. They first stopped at the share house to get the spare key to Swatch’s house that had been left with them, and to make a bowl of fresh soup for Spamton to take in with him. Once again, they made sure the puppet was fed first, fussing over him anxiously as they probably wanted to do to their boss.

Two of them came with Spamton back to Swatch’s house, unlocking the front door so they could get in, and then gathering in front of the bedroom door. Spamton swallowed and rapped his knuckles on the door.

“I’M COMING IN SWATCH,” Spamton announced loudly, before nodding to one of the Swatchlings, who turned the handle and pushed the door inward for him. The room beyond was dark. Spamton took a deep breath and stepped inside.

Chapter Text

Spamton stepped into the dark room. “[Feeling Peckish?]” he asked as he looked around. “[Try This NewFlavour].” Spamton noticed the bed covers shift.

As he walked towards the bed he saw the soup bowl from the previous night sitting on the bed side table. Swatch leaving something not cleaned up? Preposterous! Things must be in dire straits indeed.

Spamton placed the new bowl of soup carefully down on the floor, then quickly scrambled up onto the bed. There was a mountainous lump under the covers. Spamton started to climb it.

“[You Can’t Hide] IN HERE [[Forever]] YOU KNOW,” the puppet claimed as he reached the summit of his short climb. He looked down at the pillows, seeing some black feathers poking out the top of the covers. The lump in the bed grunted.

Spamton sighed. “C’MON [Big Bird], TALK TO [Your Old Pal].”

The lump let out a massive huffing breath, and then started to roll over, tipped Spamton off and sending him tumbling down the side. Swatch’s head poked out from under the covers and turned to look at Spamton as the bird now lay on their back.

Spamton quickly climbed back up Swatch’s body, until he was on their chest. He took a seat, legs out to the sides and hands pressed down on the covers in front of him. Spamton stared down the bird with intense concern. Swatch watched them with lowered brows, looking unimpressed.

“What do you want?” Swatch asked wearily.

“I WANT YOU TO [Turn That Frown Up side Down!],” Spamton face palmed at the tic. “NO, I WANT YOU TO COME OUT OF YOUR ROOM AND EAT SOME GOD DAMN [Soup]. YOU’RE [Scaring Us All]. ME ESPECIALLY.”

Swatch huffed indignantly. “I’m surprised you managed to keep them out for this long…”

“I [Misled] THEM THAT YOU WERE [Taking A Break], BUT EVENTUALLY THEY [ScamDetected],” Spamton explained. “SO [What’s Going On?].”

Swatch sighed deeply, looking away. “Nothing…” they muttered evasively.

“YOU REALLY EXPECT ME TO [Answer Accepted]?!?! WRONG!!! [[Try Again]],” Spamton pushed, looking determined.

Swatch grimaced slightly. “I just… can’t process this, no matter how hard I try. I keep getting the urge to hurry off to the castle and apologise to her, but at the same time, I don’t want to face her. I’m… scared,” they admitted, avoiding eye contact.

Spamton gave the bird a sceptical look. “YOU HAVE A [Small Army] OF 9-FOOT-TALL BEEFCAKE AVIANS READY TO [[Throw Down]] IF AN YONE TRIED ANYTHING WITH YOU. YOu’RE ONE OF THE MOST [Well Protected] PEOPLE [Around Town], YOU SHOULDN’T BE SCARED OF AN YONE!!!” Spamton pointed out.

Swatch involuntarily snorted out a quick laugh at that. “I’m not scared of her like that, physical violence isn’t really her style anyway,” they explained.

“THEN WH4T IS IT?” Spamton coaxed.

“… I kind of wish I could go back to blindly following orders without a second thought. Doing what you were made to do… knowing your place in the world… there is peace in that.” Swatch rambled. “Freedom is scary.”

This caught Spamton off guard a little. All he had wanted was freedom, but Swatch wasn’t exactly wrong. “[Freedom] CAN BE SCARY… AND [[Painful]],” he agreed, thinking back to when he became Neo. Swatch nodded sadly.

“[Speaking of which], HOW’S YOUR [Hand]?” Spamton probed.

Swatch looked away again. “It’s fine…” they mumbled.

“LET ME [See],” Spamton requested, holding out his hands.

Swatch shook their head, shrinking back down into the covers.

“SHOW ME SHOW ME,” Spamton demanded, vigorously gesturing.

Swatch sighed, and then wriggled up in the bed until they could pull their wing out, spreading their feather fingers in Spamton’s direction. Spamton scrutinized the digits. There didn’t look like there was anything wrong with them. Spamton reached out to grab the end of the wing, and as he made contact it sent a spasm through Swatch’s whole body.

“Ahtatatatata,” Swatch hissed, squeezing their eyes shut in pain. They tried to pull their wing back but Spamton had a good grip on it with both his little hands, so that only made a small yelp escape from the bird’s throat.

“DID YOU [Break] YOUR [Fingers] OR SOM ETHING?” Spamton asked as he carefully ran his hands over them.

“I have no idea, just please be gentle,” Swatch begged, looking at Spamton beseechingly.

“THAT [Hochi Mama] SURE IS [One Tough Customer],” Spamton said, meaning it in the literal sense. Then he realised that he had probably been tenderly holding onto the wing for too long and quickly let go, trying not to blush.

Swatch gently retracted their wing, laying it down on top of their chest in front of where Spamton was sitting.

“IT OKAY TO [Injured? Need time off work?]   , BUT YOU DON’T NEED TO [Suffering Alone In The Dark?],” Spamton reasoned. “THE SWATCHLINGS ARE ALWAYS [Eager To Care] FOR YOU.”

“Yeah, probably because they don’t have a choice,” Swatch argued gruffly.

“SEEMS TO ME LIKE THEY [[Genuine Care]] ABOUT YOU,” Spamton rebutted. “AND AT THE LEAST I CAN [Guaranteed] THAT I DO.”

“That’s very sweet of you Spamton,” Swatch said with a small awkward smile.

“YOU’VE DONE [So Much] FOR ME, I WISH I WISH I COULD [Take Care] OF YOU TOO, BUT I’M [Not Big Enough],” Spamton said apologetically.

“But you are taking care of me, you brought me soup after all,” Swatch said matter-of-factly.

“YEAH I GUESS, BUT IT’LL GO TO WASTE IF YOU DOn’T GET UP AND EAT IT!” Spamton jumped to his feet, grabbed the covers and yanked them back as hard as he could, slipping and tumbling down to the foot of the bed with them wrapping around him. He heard Swatch squawking indignantly as Spamton untangled himself from the covers and looked over to top of them at the bird. Swatch was lying on the bed in just their boxers and had instinctually pulled their knees up towards their chest as they looked at Spamton with uncharacteristic embarrassment.

Spamton’s brain slowed as he looked upon Swatch’s almost naked muscular feathered body. The bird seemed to get over their initial shock after a moment and sat up in the bed, rubbing the back of their head awkwardly and blushing lightly.

“That was unnecessary,” Swatch said with a small huff.

Spamton couldn’t bring himself to say anything, only stare, gripping onto the covers.

“What, did you really think I was lying in bed fully clothed?” Swatch said in amusement, as they shuffled to the side of the bed and threw their legs over the edge, feet resting onto the floor.

Spamton couldn’t say he had really thought that far. He watched as Swatch picked their glasses off the nightstand and put them on, then reached down to pick up the bowl of soup Spamton had left sitting on the floor. They picked up the spoon and took a mouthful.

“Ah, yes, this tastes like Cyan’s work again, they take soup very seriously,” Swatch murmured with a satisfied smile.

Spamton reeled. “WAIT, [Stop The Presses]. THE SWATCHLINGS HAVE NAMES?” he cried in astonishment, scrambling over the covers towards Swatch.

Swatch turned their head and gave Spamton an incredulous look. “Of course they do?” they sounded very confused.

Spamton stared up at Swatch in shock. “BUT… BUT YOU NEVER YOU NEVER ADDRESSED THEM [Personally] BEFORE… I THOUGHT… I THOUGHT...” he went quiet as emotions battled across his face.

Swatch burst out into barking laughter while they tried hard not to drop their bowl of soup. Spamton sank down onto the mattress, staring down at the sheets in disbelief.

Swatch managed to get themself under control and reached out to ruffle Spamton’s hair. “You never fail to make me laugh,” they said appreciatively.

“BUT I WASn’T EV3N TRYING.” Spamton’s face burned with shame. He felt like an idiot.

While Spamton had an existential crisis about the Swatchlings having names, Swatch downed the bowl of soup and balanced it within the other bowl before getting to their feet and stretching. “I guess you achieved what you came here to do; I’m up,” they said.

“BUT AT WHAT [Price]?” Spamton overdramatized, getting to his feet and hopping down off the bed.

Swatch chuckled, then raised a wing, sniffing under it. They made a face of disgust. “Guess I better practice that self-care you go on about,” they said, grabbing up the dirty bowls before walking over to the bedroom door and poking their head out. “I’m okay, you two can go home, I’ll come over soon to see you. Here’s your bowls back; thanks for the soup.”

Spamton heard the footsteps of the Swatchlings walking through the house and then the sound of the front door opening and closing. Swatch also walked out into the living area, Spamton following closely behind. Spamton looked up at Swatch as they stretched again, the light glistening off the black feathers that covered their mostly naked body. They soon made their way towards the bathroom though and disappeared through the door. The sound of the shower running started a moment later.

Spamton had nothing to do but retreat to his nest for now while he waited for Swatch to be done. The hairdryer ran for ages like usual as Spamton mindlessly watched TV. He wasn’t really paying much attention, instead mostly thinking about how god damn attractive the bird was without clothing.

When he heard the dryer stop Spamton climbed up the back of the couch and stuck his nose over it, looking towards the bathroom door. Swatch emerged wrapped in a towel, steam billowing through the door around them. They looked over at Spamton and gave him a smile. Spamton’s heart sped up, and he quickly ducked his head back down behind the back of the couch, hiding away from view as he blushed.

Spamton was fiddling with a pawn from the chess board on the coffee table when Swatch came back through, now fully dressed in their suit. They only seemed to have suits in their wardrobe. They went past and into the kitchen, seemingly to make themself some tea. They brought it over to the couch and sat down on the unoccupied couch cushion.

“FEELING BETTER?” Spamton asked, peering up at the bird out of the corner of his eye, still worrying the pawn in between his fingers.

Swatch nodded as they took a sip of their tea. They hadn’t made any tea for Spamton since the tea incident, but Spamton didn’t really mind.

“Y’KNOW, [Here’s Some Advice], YOU SHOULD REALLY [[Invest]] IN SOME [Clothing] OTHER THAN [Suits],” Spamton offered.

“Oh?” Swatch said in surprise, looking down at their outfit. “Why’s that?”

“TO [Help] DISTANCE YO URSELF FROM THE WHOLE [[Service]] PERSONA,” Spamton explained. “SEPARATE [Work] FROM HOME LIFE. PLUS, THEY DOn’T LOOK [[Super Comfortable!]]”

Swatch shrugged. “What should I wear instead?” They questioned, blinking down at the puppet expectantly.

If it was up to Spamton, he’d have Swatch walking around in nothing but their boxers again. He squirmed at the thought, trying to calm himself down. Then he thought about Swatch wearing something very casual, like a hoodie, and almost laughed out loud. He noticed the bird was looking at him with confusion, so he cleared his throat, trying to also clear his thoughts.

“PERHAPS JUST A [Nice Shirt and Pants]?” Spamton suggested shyly. “MY BROTHERS HAVE BEEN MAKING [New Fashions] FOR THE DARKNERS AROUND HERE, MAYBE THEY COULD [[Help You Out]]?”

“Hrm…” Swatch made a thoughtful noise, cupping their chin with their wing. “I suppose you have a point. Perhaps they could make you something new as well?” Swatch gestured to Spamton’s old patched up suit.

Spamton mentally rebuked the idea, the suit felt sentimental to him since Swatch had fixed it for him. But he put those feelings to one side. “SURE… THEY ALW4YS LOVED DRESSING ME UP…” he balked a bit at the thought. He hadn’t liked being his brothers dress up doll… but if it was to encourage Swatch to embrace their freedom, he could endure it.

“Alright, we can go see them when my wing feels better,” Swatch agreed, sipping on their tea some more. Spamton smiled hopefully.

Chapter Text

Swatch wasn’t in fact feeling much better. They had lied to try and get Spamton to not worry about them so much. Just another method of deflection and evasion. They had known that they couldn’t get away with literally hiding from everyone forever. In fact, they were surprised they had been able to do it for so long. They had expected the Swatchlings to break in at any minute. But it seemed that Spamton had kept them at bay, knowing that the bird wanted to be left alone.

Swatch had known that they couldn’t have gone to work anyway because of their sore wing. Seemed that slamming it with their full strength against Queen’s titanium head had caused some of the bones to possibly crack, leaving them in quite a bit of pain. Or it could just be a lot of bruising. Either way, it probably would have been good to start using it again to take orders and carry things around.

So that was one excuse to hide away. But they had also been paralysed by anxiety, trapping them in their room. They hadn’t wanted to talk to Spamton about it, because they didn’t even know how to properly articulate the way they were feeling. They were just… upset. And lost.

So, they had just curled up in bed and silently sobbed all their feelings out, then lay there waiting to be told what to do again. Spamton had just helped break them out of that, to regain their composure, to put their mask back on. It was easier to push your own feelings aside to reassure someone else. Someone you care about more than you want to admit.

The only reason they had been able to break free from Queen’s control was to protect someone they cared deeply for. And this growing affection towards the little puppet was confusing. Swatch had never felt romantically attracted towards anyone before, in fact, they had started to believe they might not be capable of such feelings. But, as much as they tried to deny it, there didn’t seem to be a better way to describe how they had started to feel towards Spamton.

After chatting with Spamton for a while to reassure him they were ‘okay’, Swatch made good on their promise and went over to see the Swatchlings. There was an astronomical amount of fussing made over them. Swatch was squished in the middle of a bunch of burley bodies all trying to hug them at once. As the Swatchlings were all ironically a foot taller than them, all their white pointed faces hovered over Swatch to look down on them, almost completely enclosing them in the many winged embrace.

Swatch cradled their injured wing in close to their stomach and covered it with their other wing to try and protect it from being compressed. They didn’t mention the injury to the Swatchlings, they didn’t need any more fussing than this. Though, while the outpouring of attention and concern was slightly annoying, it was also comforting. They were loved.

It took a lot of reassurances to get the other birds to settle down. Swatch sort of made out that Spamton had been overreacting a bit, and they really had just been feeling unwell again and resting. No need to burden these beloved featherheads with their emotional issues. Swatch somehow managed to escape from being coddled to death and returned home.

When they got back, they played chess with Spamton, as the puppet seemed to believe it would make Swatch feel better. Swatch appreciated the sentiment. Later in the evening the puppet was growing noticeably tired, though seemed to be trying to fight it. He was sitting cross legged on the coffee table in front of the checked board, eyelids half closed and head partly drooping.

“Do you want to pack it in for the night?” Swatch asked as Spamton shook himself awake for the fifth time.

Spamton’s eyes widened, then he looked up at Swatch sheepishly. “I WANT TO [[Insure]] THAT YOu’RE OKAY,” he argued, and then tried to stifle a yawn.

“Please Spam, I’m fine, you’ve done enough for one day, you should get some rest,” Swatch insisted with an awkward smile.

Spamton looked very serious and thoughtful for a moment, and definitely didn’t look fully convinced.

“How about if I just sit on the couch next to you and watch television while you take a nap?” Swatch offered.

Spamton considered the proposal. “ARE YOU GOING TO STAY [Up All Night?]?” He sounded concerned.

Swatch shrugged. “I’ve been in bed for two days, I’m plenty rested,” they lied dismissively with a wave of their wing. They got to their feet and moved over to sit on the empty half of the couch. Spamton gave them an unsure look, before hopping over onto the couch as well, settling down in his nest.

Swatch smiled slightly to themself and turned on the television, adjusting down the volume so they could just hear it, but it hopefully wouldn’t keep Spamton awake. They glanced down at the puppet, who had removed his glasses and put them to the side and was now curled up with his eyes closed.

Swatch let out a silent sigh of relief, before turning their attention back towards the program. But as they watched, they did keep glancing down at Spamton every now and again, who was now breathing steadily with a peaceful look on his face. Swatch resisted the urge to reach out and stroke his cheek gently. The thought made their face feel warm.

Swatch had been mindlessly watching the television for a couple of hours when suddenly a strange sound coming from beside them turned their attention back to Spamton. The puppet was twitching and whimpering in his sleep. Swatch knitted their brows together in concern as they watched him, unsure of what to do.

Then the twitching escalated to thrashing around in his nest, making muffled moans and grunts. Swatch raised their wings anxiously, fighting between reaching out to the puppet or leaving him be. Should they try and wake him from the nightmare, or just let him ride it out?

“NO… nO… iT bUrNS!” a more glitchy and garbled voice than ever escaped Spamton’s mouth as he flailed about in distress.

Swatch couldn’t stop themself, they reached out and gently placed their wings on Spamton’s body. Spamton suddenly lurched up into a sitting position causing Swatch to pull away sharply, drawing their wings up to their chest. The puppet's eyes flew open and stared up at Swatch, mouth open in a silent scream. Spamton’s eyeballs were completely covered in static, which caused Swatch to flinch away for a moment. But then the puppet blinked, and his eyes went back to normal, tears leaking out from them.

Spamton blinked up at Swatch in a daze with vacant eyes, his small body heaving with heavy breaths. Swatch quickly reached out and grabbed the puppet up, pulling him against their chest. They felt his body go stiff in their wings.

Swatch shushed and cooed over the puppet as they held him against their chest. Spamton started struggling in their grip, freeing his arms and bring his hands to his face to dash away the tears. Swatch rubbed his back with one of their feather fingers while the puppet sniffled.

“You okay?” Swatch asked softly, looking down at the little guy with concern.

Spamton just let out a sigh.

“Nightmare?” Swatch coaxed gently, running their other wing tip over Spamton’s wet cheeks.

“It’S NOTHING,” Spamton rebuffed, trying to push the wing away with his little arms.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing to me,” Swatch said, attempting to wrap the wing around Spamton’s side again while the puppet kept trying to fight it off, his face starting to get flustered now. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I’VE HAD [Worse],” Spamton declared as he attempted to crawl out of the bird’s lap. Swatch allowed him to do so, though while trying to climb over their wing he slipped and tumbled back down onto the couch, landing on his back. He looked up at Swatch in defeat and didn’t even try and get up.

“Worse than thrashing around and crying out in your sleep?” Swatch asked incredulously, folding their wings in their lap, and looking down at Spamton’s upside down face.

Spamton shrugged against the couch cushion underneath him. “IT;S [A Lot Less Comfortable] DOING IT AT THE [Bottom] OF A COLD DUMPSTER,” he mumbled, glancing away.

Swatch titled their head back slightly as they were taken aback by how casually Spamton said that, and then looked down at the puppet in despair. They reached down and hooked their wings tips under Spamton’s arms, lifting the puppet back on his feet. Once they let go Spamton slowly turned around to face them, looking a bit dejected. He sat down in his nest, pulling his knees up to his chest.

Swatch reached out a wing and started stroking the puppets back again. Spamton’s body shivered at the touch while his eyes were firmly glued on his feet right in front of him, his nose resting on his knees. He looked like he was desperately trying to stop himself from crying again.

“Spam… it’s okay to need comfort you know… you don’t have to deal with it all by yourself,” Swatch offered gently.

“[That’s Kinda Rich] COMING FROM YOU,” Spamton pointed out indignantly. “AFTER [Hiding Away] FROM ME FOR [2 WholeDays] TO SULK.”

Swatch shrunk into themselves slightly, pulling their wing away from Spamton and back into their lap as they glanced away in shame. He did have a point there.

“I guess we’re both bad at letting others help us,” they mused quietly, flicking a glance back at the puppet. Spamton nodded hesitantly in agreement.

“Well… at least allow me to make you some calming chamomile tea,” Swatch suggested, getting to their feet. They noticed Spamton’s body tense at the offer, but he didn’t decline, just kept staring at his feet. Swatch went off into the kitchen to make the tea, trying not to concern themself too much with making it ‘perfect’.

Swatch returned to the couch and offered out the tiny cup to Spamton. Spamton looked up, then reached out with his tiny arms to take it. Swatch took a seat again as Spamton sipped away on the tea without comment. Once Spamton finished the drink Swatch took it from him and placed the empty mug down on the coffee table.

“If it would make you feel any safer, you can sleep leaning on me,” Swatch now offered casually. Some physical contact might be grounding for the puppet.

Spamton looked up at the bird in disbelief, and then his face started to flush. “N-NO, AH, UH, I I’M FINE,” he squeaked out, shaking his head furiously. Swatch suppressed a chuckle.

“Suit yourself,” they said with a shrug, and turned their gaze back towards the television, though they were really watching the puppet in their peripheral vision.

They saw Spamton was looking around nervously, like he was caught in indecision. Then, after a minute, he crawled hesitantly across the couch towards Swatch, curling up next to their leg and pressing his body against it.

Swatch smiled and lay back against the couch properly, actually trying to relax and not hold themselves up so stiffly for once. They put a wing down to cover Spamton’s sleeping form like a blanket. Eventually they nodded off, body sinking into the couch.

Chapter Text

Swatch came to slowly, blinking blearily into the morning light that streaming in through the window. Their body felt stiff from sleeping in a sitting position. They felt something warm pressed against their legs, and once they got their eyes fully open, they looked down.

Spamton was lying with his back against Swatch’s leg, his head rested on their thigh. Swatch smiled involuntarily. They slowly moved their wing to gently caress the puppet’s hair.

“Wakey wakey sleepy,” they cooed softly as they stroked Spamton’s dark messy locks.

The puppet began to stir, his small eyes slowly blinking open. Once his eyes were open, he looked up unfocusedly at Swatch. His head leaned into the gentle touch.

Then suddenly recognition and awareness seemed to hit Spamton all at once and his eyes went wide. He started trying to push Swatch’s wing away from him as he struggled to sit up, making sounds of indignance.

Swatch laughed silently, withdrawing their wing. Spamton shuffled away from them, face tinted red. It seemed that the puppet was struggling to form words, only managing to make more flustered noises.

“WHAt’S THE [Big] IDEA     ?” he finally managed to articulate, scowling up at the bird.

“Good morning,” Swatch said sweetly, undeterred by the puppet’s frustration. “Sorry to wake you, but I wanted to get up. Feeling a bit stiff.” They made some stretching motions in demonstration.

The irritation left Spamton’s face, and instead he was left looking confused and embarrassed.

“Do you want breakfast?” Swatch asked, giving Spamton a questioning look. The puppet hunched his shoulders defensively and nodded.

“I was thinking of making some omelettes, but I’m not sure we have any eggs,” Swatch said as he reached over Spamton’s head. He hovered his wing over the pipis in Spamton’s nest. “But maybe these would do instead.”

A sharp bark suddenly came from Spamton, who lunged upwards and latched onto Swatch’s wing with his teeth.

“YEOWCH!” Swatch yelped, jumping to their feet and shaking their wing up and down, trying to dislodge the puppet. Spamton let go and fell back down onto the sofa cushion.

“What the hell Spamton, it was just a joke!” Swatch exclaimed, pulling their wing close to their chest. Spamton’s blunt puppet teeth hadn’t even managed to pierce through their sleeve, they had just pinched them badly. Spamton was standing over his nest, growling defensively, but then stopped and looked confused.

“YOU? JOKING      ? SINCE [When]?” Spamton said sceptically. “WHO ARE YOU, AND [What Have You Done] WITH THE [[Real]] SWATCH?”

Swatch choked out a laugh. “I’ve joked around before, surely…” and then trailed off as they struggled to try and come up with an example.

“I’m sorry,” they finally said. “I didn’t think it would cause that much of an explosive reaction. Maybe I should refrain from further attempts at humour.” They slowly backed away from the protective puppet in an overdramatic way while smiling, before finally turning to walk into the kitchen to make breakfast.

When Swatch returned with the breakfast, the pipis were out of sight, probably hidden under a blanket. Spamton had put his coloured glasses back on, and was sitting with his arms and legs crossed, looking like he was holding a grudge. Swatch flashed him a smile to try and break the tension. Spamton looked away, sullen façade faltering.

“You going to work today?” Swatch asked casually as they set the food down in front of the puppet, taking a seat on the armchair themself. They had made waffles, daring not to actually make omelettes in case it was in bad taste.

“IF [[I Do]], WILL YOU JUST [Hide Away] IN YOUR ROOM AGAIN?” Spamton grumbled, moving to grab a waffle.

Swatch looked away guiltily, picking up a waffle and nibbling on it.

“YEAH [That’s What I Thought], SO I’LL BE STAYING [[Right Here]],” Spamton said pointedly between bites of food.

Just as Swatch sighed, there was a knock at the door. They blinked in confusion, before putting their plate down on the coffee table and going to answer it. They opened it to a swarm of white pointed faces looking expectantly down at them.

Oh crap, they had forgot the Swatchlings would be expecting them to go back to work now, especially since they had insisted there was nothing wrong with them.

“Work?” the word was echoed by the many, their heads turning and cocking this way and that questioningly. Swatch noticed Spamton come up behind them in their peripheral vision.

“Oh… right… the thing is, you see… I kind of hurt my wing a bit the other day… which is why I was taking time off…” they stuttered out awkwardly, holding up their right wing hesitantly.

The Swatchling standing right in front of Swatch cocked their head to one side, then suddenly reached out and grabbed the wing Swatch was holding up. Swatch screamed in pain, which startled all the Swatchlings.

“You need to see a doctor,” the Swatchling said, poking Swatch firmly in the chest as they let go of the wing. Swatch pulled the wing in close to their chest, hunching down defensively.

“It’ll be fine…” they tried to dismiss, which caused all the Swatchlings to glare at them with angry eyebrows. Suddenly they all started pushing through the doorway and into the house, crowding around their boss on all sides.

“Doctor,” one said firmly, with chiding look.

Suddenly the Swatchlings closest to Swatch all reached out and grabbed them, together lifting them up in the air. Swatch squawked and tried to struggle, but to no avail. The group of Swatchlings suddenly took off down the street, carrying their leader over their head. The last of them brought up the rear, carrying the puppet, who was watching the spectacle in awe.

----------

Spamton waited outside the Ambyu-Lance’s office with the majority of the Swatchlings, since there was no way they were all going to fit comfortably in the waiting room. The fear on the receptionist’s face when a stampede of buff birds had poured through the door and deposited their leader in front of the desk had been priceless. Swatch had been completely flustered and apologetic, while one of the Swatchlings demanded an appointment for them.

The Swatchlings seemed fretful and fidgety as they waited. Spamton wondered how Swatch could ever think their concern wasn’t genuine.

When the door to the building opened and Swatch stepped through accompanied by the one Swatchling who had insisted on going in with them, their whole family were suddenly crowding around them again, asking if they were okay.

Swatch insisted that the doctor had done an x-ray and their fingers were not broken, just badly bruised and already well on the mend. They then had to argue with their underlings for quite a while to get them to go off to work and let them take care of themself. The Swatchlings eventually hesitantly left to go run the café, leaving Swatch and Spamton alone on the street.

Swatch put a wing against their chest and let out a deep breath, their shoulders sagging in relief. Then they looked down and noticed Spamton standing at their feet, looking up at them expectantly. Swatch chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of their head.

“You satisfied now as well? I told you it was nothing,” they said sheepishly.

“WHY [Downplay] IT SO MUCH THOUGH?” Spamton pressed, mouth set in a hard line.

Swatch shrugged. “Don’t want to be a burden…” they mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

“YEESH      , YOU DOn’T HAVE TO [Keep Up] THE [[Tough Guy]] ACT YOU KNOW,” Spamton grumbled.

“Shall we head home?” Swatch asked, kneeling down next to Spamton.

“WELL SINCE [Apparently] YOUR WING IS [So Much Better!] NOW, MAYBE WE COULD GO [Shopping!] FOR [[New Clothes 30% Off RRP!!]]?” Spamton suggested as he climbed up onto Swatch’s shoulder.

“Do you want to visit your brothers?” Swatch asked teasingly as they straightened up.

“NO!! THEY JUST RUN THE ONLY [Boutique] [Around Town],” Spamton argued. “AND [[I Want You]] TO TRY B3ING MORE [Casual]. STARTING WITH YOUR [Attire].”

“It’s okay to want to see your family Spam,” Swatch said as they started walking.

“IF I [Never] SEE THEM AG4IN, IT’LL BE [Too Soon!]!” Spamton barked sharply. Swatch rolled their eyes, and Spamton shot them a glare, digging a heel into their shoulder.

“H-hey!” Swatch flinched away from the pain, looking wounded.

It didn’t take them long to get to the boutique, given how small the town was. The brightly coloured neon signs that adorned its façade left no confusion as to who ran the place. Spamton shuddered as he saw the mannequin in the window which looked so much like him, wrapped in a blue sparkly dress. It made his skin crawl. He wondered how he was going to get out of this visit without spending any time in that dress. It seemed unlikely.

Spamton balked as Swatch opened the door and they crossed the threshold into the store. He wanted to run, though that would mean falling more than five feet off the bird’s shoulder to the ground first. This had been Spamton’s idea though, it would be stupid for him to be the one saying they should leave. It was too late now anyway; the door chime had already rung out.

The two of them stood in the doorway, looking at the interior of the store laid out in front of them. It was a little on the side of over-the-top visual stimulation. There was so many colours of clothing, and so many bright signs all over the place.

The Addisons seemed to appear out of nowhere, popping up in front of the pair. They all posed in unison and then Click stepped out in front of the group to greet their customers.

“Welcome to our boutique, how may we ser- Spamton?” Click interrupted the clearly well practiced introduction when he registered his brother sitting on Swatch’s shoulder. The brothers all stared in disbelief at the pair.

“TAKE A [$!$!]ING PICTURE, IT’LL [Last Longer]!!” Spamton quipped at his brother’s stares. He noticed that Swatch was turning their head down slightly, looking a bit awkward.

“They let you ride around on their shoulder?” Click asked in awe.

“I;VE GOT TINY [Little] LEGS MAN, I [Can’t keep up with the latest trends?],” Spamton said, gesturing down to said tiny little legs.

“Relationship goals,” Vivi said dreamily, holding their clasped hands to their cheek.

Spamton glared at his sibling with burning fury and embarrassment. “SWATCH, [Could You Please] MOVE A STEP [Closer]?” Spamton asked in a measured tone.

Swatch looked at the puppet in confusion, but then stepped forward. Spamton got up into a crouching position on Swatch’s shoulder. The Addisons were watching him in puzzlement.

The puppet suddenly launched off Swatch’s shoulder onto Click’s, making his brother jump in surprise. Then he bounded from Click’s shoulder towards Vivi who was standing behind him. He sailed through the air towards Vivi’s shocked expression, and then latched onto his siblings’ face, growling and scratching with his blunt plastic fingers like a rabid animal.

Vivi screamed in terror, grabbing their tiny brother around the middle and trying to pry him off their face while Spamton growled “[I Told You] I WOULD [[End]] YOU [$!$!]ER!! GET [$!$!]ING MAULED!!!”

Popup stepped over, looking calmer than the others, and put his hands around Spamton’s torso, yanking him off Vivi’s face. Spamton kept flailing his arms as he was held in the air, still snarling. Vivi rubbed their face, watching the rabid puppet warily.

“So, what are you guys doing here?” Survey asked Swatch rather casually. Popup had pulled Spamton into a pressure hug to try and calm him down. His flailing was getting weaker.

Swatch cleared their throat, turning their attention to the orange Addison. “Spam thinks I should change up my look to something more casual,” they explained.

“Wow Spammy, how did you get the coolest Darkener wrapped around your finger like this?” Survey asked in amazement.

“DO YOU WANT A [[Mauling]] TOO? [[There’s Plenty To Go Around!]]!!!” Spamton snapped, struggling in his brother’s grip.

“Oh my gosh, we’d be honoured to assist you in building a new style Swatch,” Click said excitedly. “We guarantee we can find something you’ll love. Let’s stop wasting time and get to work!”

Chapter Text

"Please follow us to the fitting area," Click instructed cheerily and he and Survey motioned to Swatch. Swatch started walking after them, glancing at the others on their way past. Vivi was glaring and pointing warningly at Spamton who was still held firmly in Popup’s arms. Spamton was baring his teeth at his sibling as they had an intense stare down. Popup rolled his eyes, looking unimpressed by his brothers’ antics.

Swatch followed the other pink and orange brothers who were still gesturing excitedly as they led them towards the back of the store. The Addisons directed them into a small area that had a variety of fabrics and measuring tapes hanging on the walls, as well as some seats, full length mirrors, a coat rack, sewing machine, ironing board and more.

“Would you mind removing your jacket please?” Click requested politely, holding out his hands ready to take the garment. Survey seemed to be getting some items organised behind him.

“O-oh, alright,” Swatch nodded, and started unbuttoning their suit jacket while the pink Addison watched them patiently. Swatch slipped the jacket off their shoulders and handed it over. Click took the jacket and hung it up on a rack while Swatch straightened their tight-fitting two-toned shirt over their torso.

They couldn’t help but feel a little awkward. They were not used to anyone serving them apart from the Swatchlings. They were beckoned over by the Addisons until they were standing in the middle of the fitting area. Click and Survey pulled some steps stools up and each held a length of measuring tape.

“We’re just going to start by taking your measurements, if that’s okay?” Survey asked with a smile.

Swatch nodded meekly and the two Addisons quickly hopped up on the step stools so they could better reach around Swatch’s tall, broad figure. The brothers started wrapping tape around different parts of Swatch’s body, calling out measurements.

Swatch bristled slightly at the Addisons’ touch. They weren’t too keen on being touched by people they didn’t know that well. Swatch looked around and saw that Vivi had made their way over to them, holding a notepad and quickly jotting down the numbers as their brothers called them out. Spamton and the eldest brother were not in sight.

“You don’t have to hold your breath you know,” Click laughed. Swatch hadn’t even realised they were doing so, and exhaled deeply, face heating up a little in embarrassment. They let out a little awkward laugh as well to try and diffuse the tension in their body.

This was ridiculous. They had had suits fitted and tailored in the city before. How was this any different? They tried to think of something to say to make them feel more comfortable, rather than just standing in awkward silence.

“So, uh, is that a regular occurrence?” Swatch punctuated the question with a cough to clear their throat.

“What?” Click asked in confusion at the lack of context in the question, attention mainly on measuring Swatch’s chest.

“Spamton… mauling you guys?” Swatch clarified, trying to keep a straight face.

“Oh yeah, classic Spam move. It’s not like he can do any damage anyway with his blunt little fingers,” Click said dismissively, eyes staying on his work.

“Says you,” muttered Vivi, rubbing their cheek. “You try being the one getting attacked next time.”

“They say short people have anger issues,” Survey chimed in with a mischievous grin. “Spam is tiny so he’s full of rage.”

Swatch snickered at the sibling’s banter, feeling a bit more relaxed.

“So, did you want to stick with the mostly monochrome signature look, or did you have some other colours in mind?” Click asked as they finished up with the measurements, hopping down from the stools.

Swatch shrugged noncommittally. “This is all his idea; I’m just humouring him. But I’m happy to try anything.”

The Addisons’ eyes seem to light up at that. “Oh, we love a bit of experimentation!” Survey said with delight. Vivi hurried over to their brothers so they could pour over the measurements together, eyebrows drawn together in focus as they pointed down at the notepad. They muttered lowly to each other, quickly discussing something Swatch couldn’t quite make out.

“Let’s start off simple and go from there,” Survey announced with a dismissive wave as he walked off into the store to grab some clothes for Swatch to try. Click was looking a bit annoyed, like he had just lost an argument, crossing his arms over his chest and scowling for a moment.

“Would you like a refreshing beverage?” Vivi asked Swatch with a smile. “We specialise in personalised teas.”

“Sure,” Swatch agreed, returning the smile. Vivi nodded and walked off towards the back staff only door, leaving Swatch and the pink Addison alone for a moment.

It wasn’t long before Survey returned, dumped some clothing in Click’s arms, and then went off again to find more without saying a word. Click huffed slightly and placed the clothing down on a seat and taking the top item, a plain black t-shirt and looking over it with a critical eye.

“Would you mind removing your shirt Swatch?” the pink Addison asked, turning towards them.

Swatch nodded and started with undoing and removing their tie. They then began unbuttoning their shirt while Click seemed to be looking between them and the shirt he was holding. Swatch pulled the shirt off, exposing their dark feathered chest. They may be awkward about the situation in general, but they were never self-conscious of their body. They noticed Click’s lingering gaze as he took Swatch’s shirt and tie offered to him and handed over the black tee.

Swatch slipped on the shirt. It was fairly close fitting, hugging their figure. They swung their wings around their body a bit, getting a feel for the fit. Click was staring. Survey had just approached with another armful of clothes and was also staring.

“I hate it when you’re right!” Click snapped at his brother, who was looking pretty pleased with himself. “How do they make just a shirt look so good?” he gestured towards Swatch. The bird chuckled.

“Now we can try out some jackets,” Survey said with a satisfied smile. He handed Swatch a black leather jacket with white lining which was visible on the lapels. Swatch shrugged on the jacket, which fit tightly around their broad shoulders. Survey seemed pleased. Swatch stepped over to a mirror to inspect their reflection. They didn’t hate the look.

Survey gave Swatch a pair of plain white loose fitting chino style pants and sent them into a changing room this time. Swatch put them on and had to admit, they were a bit more comfortable than their two-toned suit pants. When they came back out of changing, the brothers also had them try on a simple black denim jacket, and then a slightly longer woollen coat, trying to cover a range of outerwear styles.

Then the Addisons had them strip back to bare chest to try a different shirt, a loose-fitting white linin button up. With the white pants it was a little too white, so they gave Swatch some black streetwear style pants to try with it.

The brothers fawned over the bird as they tried a variety of button up shirts, including a tight two-toned with three-quarter rolled up sleeves which hugged their pecs as much as the tee had, a black and white striped loose with half length sleeves, and even a rainbow striped short sleeved that the brothers were insisting that Swatch leave open, much to the bird’s amusement.

Vivi finally returned with the promised tea and when he saw the bird in the rainbow open shirt they burst into laughter. Their brothers shot them withering looks as they approached Swatch and handed the bird a steaming cup. Swatch thanked them kindly, taking the cup and smelling the aroma before having a sip. It made them smile. It tasted like black liquorice. It felt… comforting.

“Who is that one based on?” Survey whispered to Vivi out of the corner of their mouth.

“I think you know,” Vivi said with a sly smile, watching Swatch enjoy the beverage. Swatch wondered what they meant.

Once Swatch had finished the cup, the brothers allowed them to get dressed back up in their own pants and shirt. They had decided to buy quite a few of the items they had tried on, though left the rainbow shirt, much to Click’s apparent disappointment.

Before they put their jacket back on, Click seemed to want them to try some vests over their dress shirt, so they tried on a simple black one, to the Addisons’ collective approval.

“So… what do you see in him?” Click asked slyly as he tied a simple black tie around Swatch’s neck in place of their pink one while Swatch bent forward so he could reach.

“Pardon?” Swatch blinked at the pink Addison in confusion.

“Our little brother,” Click said with a smile. “You could probably date any darkener in town, but you choose him?”

Swatch’s eyes widened. “We’re not dating,” came out as little more than a whispered breath, and they looked away to the side.

“Psh. Maybe not officially, but you can’t fool us,” Click stated as he finished tying the tie and stepped back, looking up at the bird and winking. Swatch straightened themself up, trying not to blush.

“Like really? Him? I mean we love him because he’s our brother but…” Survey broke off, glancing away awkwardly.

“Like seriously! You could have anyone! What about that hottie blue butler?” Click suggested animatedly.

Swatch made a noise of disgust. “Him? He’s so annoying and full of himself!” they said in abhorrence.

“Funny, he said the same thing about you,” Vivi piped in with a grin.

“Is that so?” Swatch asked lowly, eyebrows narrowing. They suddenly wondered if punching Rouxls would be more satisfying than punching Queen.

“So, tell us, what do you like about Spammy?” Survey pressed with a gleeful expression.

Swatch ran a wing over their head and then rubbed the back of their neck. “… he makes me laugh,” they said quietly, avoiding eye contact.

“Is that all it takes?!” Click uttered in disbelief.

“So you admit it!” Vivi pointed at Swatch accusingly.

“I haven’t admitted to anything!” Swatch declared defensively, their feathers puffing up a bit.

“Why don’t you say something to him? He’s clearly crazy about you!” Survey implored.

Swatch shrugged. “I’ve only just sort of realised it myself, and I’m not sure how to go about it,” they said evasively. “Plus, its… kind of fun watching him get so flustered,” they admitted, covering their devious smile.

“Spam will probably literally stop functioning if you confess to him,” Survey joked in agreement, though Swatch could imagine that happening.

“Well, if you change your mind about him, give me a call,” Click said with a wink and finger guns.

Survey elbowed his brother in the side. “Stop trying to steal Spammy’s boyfriend, this may be his only chance at love,” the orange Addison hissed.

“It was just a joke!” Click tried to push his brother back with annoyance. “Mostly,” he added quietly.

“Hey guys, what’s going on over here?” a deeper voice asked from behind Swatch, who turned to look with the others as the eldest brother approached the group, Spamton riding on his shoulder.

Chapter Text

Vivi was pointing at Spamton while Swatch was led away by the two middle brothers towards the back of the store. Spamton glared up as his sibling, and tried to bite at the finger, but the blue Addison pulled it away quickly. Then they reached out and flicked Spamton on the nose, which threw him into a fit of rage, struggling against his oldest brother’s firm grip. He heard Popup sigh as he held onto him.

“Go help the others, I’ll deal with this one,” the yellow Addison said in a long-suffering tone. Vivi poked their tongue out at Spamton before walking away, Spamton yelling obscenities after them as they went, shaking his fist in the air.

Popup walked over to the customer service counter and set his tiny brother down on top of it. Spamton crossing his arms over his chest and looked away from his brother, still fuming.

“You could just ignore them you know?” the eldest Addison say wearily. “They would probably not do it so much if they didn’t get such a strong reaction out of you.”

Spamton glared at his brother accusatorily. “I’M THE [[Victim Of A Crime?]] HERE! GO LECTURE THEM INSTE4D!”

“Not entirely sure how you are playing the victim card when I just had to literally pry you off Vivi’s face while you tried to scratch their eyes out,” Popup said with a shrug.

“THEY [Had It Coming]!!!” Spamton maintained his stance, simmering anger creasing his features.

“Yeah yeah, okay, settle down tough guy,” Popup said sarcastically. Spamton glowered at him. Popup paused thoughtfully for a moment and then sighed again. “Spamton, I love you, I really do, but I’m failing to understand what Swatch sees in you.”

“WHAT THE [$!$!] ARE YOU [Talking About]??” Spamton asked in confusion, still sounding frustrated.

“You know, Swatch. Tallish. Glasses. Body of a Greek god. Obsessed with you for some reason,” Popup said sarcastically, counting off the points on his fingers.

The frustration fell away for Spamton’s face as he looked up at his brother in disbelief. “WHAT THE [$!$!] ARE YOU [Talking About]??” he repeated, though slightly quieter and more bewildered.

“Are you kidding me? Their eyes are glued to you basically the whole time!” Popup said with incredulity.

“OH, I SEE WHAT THE [Deal Is Here]. YOU’RE MOCKING ME JUST LIKE THEM. WELL, YOUR [Jokes] AREN’T [Funny]!” Spamton snapped, the anger returning to his face.

“Spam, you know I don’t stoop to their level,” Popup said, sounding kind of hurt at the accusation. “While everyone else is talking I’m watching all their faces closely, and I can tell you that Swatch’s expression softens when they look at you.”

A look of trepidation crossed Spamton’s face. “YOU CAn’T BE [[Serious Offers Only]],” he said uneasily. “THERE’S [No Way These Prices Can Be Beaten].”

Popup shrugged in defeat. “Believe it or not, but it’s clear to me they got it bad for you.”

Spamton was shaking slightly now when he looked up at his brother with imploring eyes. “YOU REALLY [Think So]?” he asked desperately. The very idea had him reeling. It was completely inconceivable that the bird could feel that way about him.

His oldest brother just nodded, giving Spamton a serious look. He didn’t seem to be joking in the slightest.

“THAT… CAN’T BE [Correct Answer]…” Spamton’s mind was stuttering trying to process the information. “WHY WOULD THEY [Like Me]?? I’M JUST A [Long-Nosed Doll].” It made no sense to him.

“I just told you I don’t know why. But you must be doing something right. Or maybe they are into annoying short-asses,” Popup sounded a bit sceptical.

Spamton thought for another long moment. “WHAT SHOULD I DO?” he finally asked with uncertainty.

“Tell them how you feel and ask if they feel the same way?” Popup suggested wearily. “Though I think they probably know how you feel. You aren’t exactly subtle about it.”

“N-N-NO WAY! IF THEY IF THEY DOn’T REALLY [Feel Like That] THEN I WILL [[Look Like An Idiot]]!! THEY’LL PROBABLY [Laugh] AT ME!” Spamton protested vehemently, crossing his arms in front of him.

“Like I said, I’m pretty certain they do. I mean what are you going to do instead, just harbour a massive crush on them for the rest of eternity?” the elder brother urged.

“B-BUT… IF THEY DO [Like Me] THEN WHY HAVEN’T THEY [Said Something]?” Spamton remained doubtful.

Popup gave an over exaggerated shrug. “Maybe they are embarrassed that they like such a short stack. Maybe they are waiting for you to make the first move. Maybe they want to be wooed,” he suggested noncommittally.

“HOW THE [[$!$!]] DO I [[Do That]]?!?!” Panic was edging into Spamton’s voice slightly, and he was getting fidgety.

Popup slapped a hand over his own face and sighed deeply. “Why am I giving romance tips, that’s Click’s specialty,” he muttered. When he took his hand away from his face, he noticed Spamton looking up at him beseechingly, and his expression softened slightly.

“Buy them flowers? Take them on a date?” he finally proposed vaguely.

Spamton winced slightly. “I DON’T HAVE ANY KROMER,” he pointed out, glancing away.

Popup dragged a hand down his face in exasperation, before walking around the counter to the register. He popped it open and grabbed out a handful of dark dollars, offering them out to Spamton. The puppet looked at the money with uncertainty.

“Just, take it, okay? Don’t make a big deal out of it like you always used to,” Popup said firmly, shoving the money in Spamton’s face. Spamton quickly relented, and reached up to take the notes, considering them for a moment before stuffing them in his jacket pocket.

“Thank you,” Spamton muttered very quietly. Popup exhaled in relief, closing the register.

“If you need more advice on dating, ask Click, he’s the expert after all,” Popup added.

“BUT HE’LL BULLY THE [$!X$] OUT OF ME FOR IT,” Spamton objected unhappily.

“He will help though, because he cares about you,” Popup stated in a tone that offered no rebuttal.

Now it was Spamton’s turn to sigh and look away.

“Come on, let us go and join the others again. They’re probably having heaps of fun without us,” the yellow Addison said, walking around the counter until he was standing in front of Spamton again.

Spamton suddenly stepped forward and pressed his body up against his brother’s, trying to wrap his little arms around their body in a hug. He felt his brother’s body stiffen in surprise, but then Popup reached down and placed his hands around Spamton’s back. Suddenly Spamton was being lifted up off the counter and then held tightly against his brother’s chest.

After a few moments Popup relaxed his grip and Spamton climbed up to sit on his shoulder. The yellow Addison turned his head to give his brother a rare smile, before setting off through the store towards the back to find the others.

As they approached the fitting area, Spamton saw his other three siblings standing around Swatch, who was wearing a neat black vest which hugged their torso as much as their suit jackets did. It looked very good on them.

“Hey guys, what’s going on over here?” Popup called out as they approached, causing the group to turn towards them. Spamton carefully watched Swatch’s face as they turned to see him. Did their eyes just light up, or was he imagining it? Swatch’s usually impassive looks were hard to read.

“You guys are late to the party, you missed out on all the great looks we were serving here,” Survey said cheerily as he moved about to carefully fold up the various pieces of clothing left lying around.

“It’s your turn now Spammy!” Click announced with devious delight. Spamton flinched backwards instinctually, but Popup kept walking forward into the fitting area. Soon his pink brother was reaching out to pluck him off the eldest’s shoulder, Spamton’s body going stiff as he was picked up.

“[Is This Deal Negotiable?]” Spamton asked nervously. Click just laughed while Vivi hurried over with their tallest step stool, setting it down in the middle of the fitting area. Click carried his brother over to the stool and set him down on top of it.

“Now stay right there,” they said in a cheery yet almost threatening tone. Spamton glanced over at Swatch for help, but the bird was being ushered to sit by Popup.

Suddenly Spamton was surrounded by the three middle siblings, all looking down at him cunningly while holding different pieces of clothing. Suddenly they were forcefully stripping him of his clothing, handling him like a doll, and quickly redressing him. Then they stood back and considered their work.

Spamton looked down to see they had dressed him up in a short sleeved white button up cotton shirt with fancy beige shorts held up by suspenders, with a little blue bow tie. Spamton’s face flushed red with indignance, and he glowered up at his siblings, who were looking pretty pleased with themselves.

“YOU HAVE GOT TO BE [Kidding Me]!!!” he exclaimed, pulling at the clothing in frustration.

“Oh come now Spammy, you look adorable,” Click said with a chuckle.

Spamton crossed his arms over his chest and sulked, while Vivi tried to take pictures of him. He glanced over at Swatch again, who was looking a little concerned.

They changed Spamton’s clothing again, this time into a set of tie dye pink and yellow overalls with a light blue shirt. Spamton was about to protest, but stopped, looking down at the overalls carefully.

“OKAY, I DON’T HATE THESE,” he admitted, twisting his body around to check them out from different angles. Looking back up at his brothers he saw they were desperately trying not to laugh, which caused him to scowl up at them again.

There was a flurry of manhandling again, and this time Spamton ended up in black denim jeans and a leather jacket. Well, at least that was an improvement.

He sighed. “COME ON GUYS, [Cut Me A Break],” he said despairingly, knowing that the protests were likely fruitless. Then he noticed Click approaching from the side, holding the sparkling blue little dress, and Spamton’s eyes went wide in fear.

“NO NO NO, YOU CAN [[$!$!]] OFF WITH THAT!” he exclaimed, recoiling away from the dress.

Suddenly Popup was looming behind Click, who went stiff as his elder brother whispered something in his ear. Click looked like he was about to object, but then seemed to think better of it, turning to slink away with the dress, much to Spamton’s relief.

Popup smiled at Spamton kindly and approached holding some black and white clothing. “I noticed your suit was looking a little worse for wear, so I made you a new one,” they offered a black jacket and white pants out to Spamton.

Spamton stared at the items vacantly. “BUT… I LIKE MY [Old One]… Swatch fixed it up for me…” he said the last part very quietly.

“You don’t have to get rid of your old suit. You can just use this one when you want to be a little fancier,” Popup reassured, moving the items closer to Spamton.

Spamton reached out and gently picked up the clothing, before placing it down on the stool and hurrying to pull of the clothes his brothers had put him in. Popup knelt down in front of him, blocking him from Swatch’s view to help preserve his dignity. The other brothers had stepped away slightly, looking away somewhat apologetically.

Spamton quickly pulled on the clean and tidy version of his old suit. Popup smiled gently at him, reaching out to ruffle his hair before straightening up and stepping away. Spamton frowned slightly and quickly reached up to fix his hair.

Swatch had also come over to join the group, looking down at Spamton and examining his new suit. Spamton looked up at the bird hopefully. “[What Do You Think?]” he asked with a crooked smile.

“Very nice!” Swatch declared with an approving smile. Spamton’s smile only grew bigger.

The Addisons started collecting up all the clothing Swatch was buying and bagging it up, also putting Spamton’s old patched up suit in a bag as well. As they did so, Vivi offered Spamton some tea as well since he had missed out. While the group was chatting away, the door chime sounded, causing them all to glance towards the entrance of the boutique.

A tall blue and white figure stood in the doorway.

Chapter Text

When Swatch saw Queen standing in the doorway to the boutique, they felt like their lungs had seized up and they couldn’t breathe properly. At first, she looked around the shop, apparently not noticing everybody gathered up the back of the store yet. But then she spotted them and stared directly at Swatch.

Swatch started trembling slightly as their legs started moving, walking them up to the front of the store. Queen watched them with unease as they approached, looking like she was ready to duck and run if they tried to punch her again.

Swatch threw themself down at Queen’s feet, wings pressing against the floor holding themself up only inches from the ground.

“My lady, I greatly apologise for my misconduct,” Swatch started grovelling automatically, but then suddenly slammed their fist into the ground. “No, I fucking don’t!” They clenched their jaw as they tried to break free of the compulsion.

“My behaviour was entirely unacceptable,” they continued apologetically as the compulsion took over again. “But you deserved it,” they managed to grate out next, grimacing at the floor.

“Be assured, something like that will never happen again,” Swatch struggled to raise their head to try and look up at her, shaking the whole time. “If you ever try to hurt him again, I’ll throw you through a wall,” they almost growled.

Queen was staring down at them, frozen in place, red letters spelling WTF? across her screen.

“Why am I doing this?” Swatch breathed out desperately. Tears started to roll down their face as they struggled against the need to prostrate themself before the monarch, struggled to try and get up off the floor, but to no avail. They felt helpless.

“Are You Okay?” Queen asked very slowly, recoiling slightly from the bird. Swatch slumped back down in defeat, pressing their head against the floor. They managed to swallow anymore platitudes, at least.

It was then that they felt something dig into their back, as a pair of little feet scampered up them and onto their hunched over shoulders.

“Not You…” Swatch heard Queen say in disgust.

“WHAT ARE [[You]] DOING HERE?!” Spamton asked accusatorily from his spot upon Swatch’s trembling figure. It wasn’t exactly doing Swatch’s dignity a great deal of good.

“I… Came To Purchase Clothing?” Queen said in a tone of very real confusion that Swatch had not heard from her many times before.

“What the hell is going on?” Click exclaimed from behind Swatch, where they guessed the Addison’s were approaching from.

“Look what you’ve done Queen, you’ve broken the bird!” Survey said in dismay.

“I Didn’t Mean To…” she said in bewilderment.

Swatch took a deep, shuddering breath. “Spamton, can you get off me please,” Swatch pleaded quietly. A moment later the puppet hopped off Swatch’s back, and the bird raised their head from the ground. The stupid banter had pulled them out of their breakdown. They slowly lifted their body up until they were kneeling. Spamton stepped in front of them a bit, looking up at them with concern. Swatch slowly got to their feet, standing face to face with Queen again.

“My apologies for such an outburst,” they said flatly, wiping their eyes and adjusting their glasses, returning to their impassive façade. Queen was staring at them with apparent disbelief.

Queen let out a resigned sigh. “I… Told Ralsei What Happened And He Explained To Me What He Thought Was Going On With You.” Swatch’s body tensed up again at that, though they tried to keep the discomfort from their expression.

“I Didn’t Realise That You Couldn’t Say No. I Shouldn’t Have Taken Advantage Of You Like That.” She looked away guiltily. This seemed to be like some sort of very awkward, evasive half-apology from her. Swatch was taken aback. They hadn’t even expected this much from her. They suddenly felt more relaxed. She knew the truth now, and it seemed unlikely she was going to try to use them anymore.

“Thank you…” they said quietly, glancing away for a moment as well. “Why are you actually here though? You don’t ever really wear any different clothes.” They turned back to her and raised a questioning brow.

“LMAO Can’t Fool You I See,” Queen laughed casually. “I’m Actually Hiding From The Horrible Blue Man, Please Don’t Let Him Find Me.” The word True displayed on her face screen.

Swatch made a face of disgust. “Not to be of your service again but, if you wanted me to, I could go sort him out,” Swatch said firmly.

Queen shook her head. “He Means Well Enough He’s Just… Incredibly Annoying.”

“Fair enough. Would you like to come in then?” Swatch asked, stepping to the side and gesturing towards the Addisons, who were watching the whole exchange with intense confusion.

“Wait… So You Don’t: Hate Me?” Queen asked, looking at Swatch with puzzlement.

“Should I?” Swatch asked incredulously. “Just because you’re angry or frustrated with someone’s behaviour, doesn’t mean you hate them.”

Now everyone was staring at Swatch in disbelief. “What?” Swatch said defensively, before reaching out and taking Queen’s hand and pulling her towards the back of the store.

“Does This Mean You Forgive Me?” Queen asked in dismay as she was pulled past the confused Addisons.

“No? Should I?” Swatch asked in return. “Forgiveness isn’t always earned by just apologising, which by the way, you haven’t really done properly.”

Queen looked intensely uncomfortable at that. “I Didn’t Realise I Was In The Wrong,” she said quietly, as if she didn’t fully believe the excuse herself.

“Not only did you use me selfishly, but you also insulted Spamton and tried to hit him, and you haven’t even apologised to him either,” Swatch said in a very matter of fact manner, no anger or upset in their voice.

“If I Had Known You Liked That Little Runt So Much I Wouldn’t Have Been So Harsh On Him,” Queen said defensively as Swatch ushered her to take a seat in the fitting area. “Plus, He Called Me Stupid.”

“That’s part of your problem, looking down on other darkeners. Seeing them as beneath you, there to either be useful in serving your needs in some way, or else they are not worth your time,” Swatch explained plainly, taking a seat next to Queen. “It shouldn’t matter if Spamton is my friend or not, you shouldn’t have treated him that way in any case. And while he may have insulted you, that’s not an excuse to resort to violence.” They felt more and more liberated with every word they said. It suddenly felt so easy.

Queen was basically squirming under their gaze now. The Addison’s had followed them back to the fitting area and went back to sorting and tidying up.

“Hey Vivi, if you are going to make Spam some tea, could you make some for Queen too?” Swatch asked the blue Addison as they went past. They looked surprised for a moment, before nodding and grabbing Click to take with them before going off to the staff area.

Spamton walked over and stood in front of Queen and Swatch, looking up at them with uncertainty.

“Here’s your chance to apologise to him, Queen. But only do it if you really mean it, not just because I said you should,” Swatch said, gesturing towards the little puppet.

Queen seemed conflicted. At this moment, she no longer looked like an imposing powerful monarch, she looked like a normal person.

“I Admit That I Was In The Wrong And Objectively Treated Both Of You Poorly,” she finally said. “I Was Selfish, And Conceited, Even If I Didn’t Mean To Be.”

Swatch nodded along, waiting for her to continue.

“I Didn’t Realise How Much I Relied On You Swatch. I Did Miss Having You Around To Help Out. I Thought You Liked Serving Me, I Thought You’d Want To Come Back,” she explained. “I’m Sorry For Making You Do Things Against Your Will.”

Then she turned to look down at Spamton. She seemed to be struggling with what to say to him. Spamton looked up at her expectantly, but also with a slight amount of worry.

“I’m Sorry For Being Rude,” she finally said in a very awkward manner.

“I’M SORRY FOR [Calling] YOU [[Stupid]],” Spamton said in return.

Swatch noticed the pink and blue Addisons approaching them again, and reached down to pick up Spamton, pulling the puppet up onto their knee. Spamton made a small noise of indignance as he was picked up, and his face coloured slightly as he sat on the bird’s leg, one of Swatch’s wings around his back to support him.

The Addisons were each carrying a cup. “Here’s your tea,” Vivi said cheerily, handing a cup to their little brother, apparently unfazed by the serious looks on the group’s faces. Click handed a cup to Queen, who still looked a little uneasy.

Spamton sniffed the brew while Vivi pulled Click away from the group. He took a sip, and his eyes went wide. “[This Stuff] IS [[Amazing!]]!!” he declared, before quickly slurping at the rest of it enthusiastically.

Queen raised an eyebrow at the puppet, before sipping on her own tea. Then she raised both brows in what seemed to be pleasant surprise. Swatch smiled as they watched their friends enjoy their beverages for a quiet moment.

Their moment was interrupted as the door chime rang out through the store again. Everyone turned to look towards the front of the store, where a tall blue figure stood silhouetted against the glass door.

“Oh mine Queene, art thou in hereth?” Rouxls called out.

“Oh Shit He’s Onto Me,” Queen said with sudden alarm. “Quick, I Have To Hide.”

“Allow me to deal with him,” Swatch assured, placing Spamton down on the chair so they could get to their feet. They stepped out into the pathway between the clothing racks, facing Rouxls as he approached the back of the store.

“Mine Queene, how am I supposedeth to serve thee if thou Keepeth Running away?” Rouxls announced as his eyes fell on Queen where she was seated. Swatch stepped in the way, causing the blue butler to come to a halt, looking at them with puzzlement.

“Queen doesn’t need anyone to serve her anymore,” Swatch said firmly, wings crossed over their chest.

Rouxls glared at the bird with a frown. “I thinketh Thou will Findeth that I am now my lady Queene’s White Knight, not Thee!” he declared.

Swatch blinked in confusion. “That… that’s not something I want to be. That’s not something you are meant to want to be.”

“Silence, Traitorous Worm!” Rouxls pointed accusingly at Swatch.

“… what?” Swatch asked in bewilderment. “You just accused me of white knighting, and now I’m a traitor?”

“We Duel for the Faireth Lady then, aye?” Rouxls challenged with a smirk and a wink.

“N-no? I’m not going to fight you, and I mean, it looks like you could be knocked over by a light breeze anyway,” Swatch said as they gestured towards Rouxls, still perplexed.

“Coward!” Rouxls accused with bravado.

Swatch sighed and started rolling up their shirt sleeves. As they did so, they noticed the blue butler’s expression shift to one of apprehension. He took a step back from Swatch. The bird finished rolling up their sleeves, fixed their eyes on the butler and took a menacing step forward.

Rouxls look of apprehension turned to one of fear, and he started backing away, before turning tail and fleeing once again.

Swatch actually hadn’t had any intention of hurting the guy, it was all just intimidation tactics. They didn’t exactly feel good about it though, more pitied the poor fool.

Swatch turned around to the rest of the group, who where all in various states between surprised and amused. Swatch chuckled and went back over to Queen and Spamton.

“That won’t deter him for long I’m afraid,” Swatch said as they rolled their sleeves back down. “If you want him to leave you alone, you’ll have to tell it to him straight.”

Queen sighed. “Statement Fact Detection Equals True,” she said in defeat. “It’s Just That Lancer Likes Him So Much, I Didn’t Want To Make An Issue Out Of It.”

“I would say break it to him gently, but you may need to be firm. Though not cruel,” Swatch suggested as they reached down to pick up Spamton. The puppet didn’t really make any noises of protest this time.

“Fine Fine, I’ll Try To Be Nice,” Queen said with a dismissive wave and a little smirk.

Instead of putting him on their shoulder, Swatch set Spamton down on their wing which they held close to their body, then took his little hand in their other wing. Spamton froze in place, his eyes going wide with disbelief.

“WH-WH-WHAT [Are You Doing]???” the puppet sputtered out, clearly flustered.

“Making sure you don’t fall off,” Swatch said casually, smirking down at Spamton. That was only a partial lie. The puppet practically squirmed on his perch but didn’t pull his hand away from Swatch’s. A flush creeped across his face as he looked away from the bird shyly.

“Hey guys we’re ready to go,” Swatch called out to the Addisons, who quickly scrambled to gather up the bags. Swatch turned and headed towards the front counter to pay for the clothes.

Chapter Text

Spamton first felt like his body was frozen in place sitting on Swatch’s wing, like he suddenly really was a lifeless doll. After he managed to recover from the initial shock, he was struggling not to squirm and blush furiously as the bird kept a gentle hold on his tiny hand with their fingers. He couldn’t bare to look them in the eye, even stealing a glance at their face made him quickly look away when he saw them softly smile down at him.

What the hell even was this, why hadn’t they put him on their shoulder like usual, why were they holding his hand? Were they just messing with him? Was this a joke? Whatever it was, he had to stop being so awkward about this, it was so embarrassing. He needed some way to distract himself, something to break the tension. He should just say something, just start blabbing away like he always did.

“WHAT HAPP3NED BACK THERE [Big Bird]?” Spamton managed to cough out, though still avoided eye contact. “[One Moment] YOU WERE [[Begging For Forgiveness]]      , THE NEXT YOU WERE [Show Them Who’s Boss!]?”

Swatch chuckled slightly. “I’m not sure. While I was ‘sulking’ I did a lot of thinking about standing up to her, about what I wanted to say to her, though I wasn’t sure that I would be able to. But since it turned out she had already found out about what was going on, that made it so much easier. Then it all just sort of… came out.”

They approached the counter, and Swatch placed Spamton down on the edge so they could fish their wallet out of their pants pocket to get the dark dollars to pay for the clothing. Spamton sat on the counter with his short legs dangling over the edge, looking up at the bird as they handed the money over to Survey who was serving them at the register.

“WELL, GOTTA SAY, I’M [Proud of you champ],” Spamton said as Swatch took the bags handed over to them by Survey. “DIDN’T THINK DIDn’T THINK YOU [Had It In You].”

“Neither did I,” Swatch almost muttered as they crouched down so their shoulder was level with the counter. Spamton quickly grabbed onto it, climbing up and taking a seat as Swatch straightened up.

“Thank you for your patronage!” the three warm coloured Addisons exclaimed in unison from where they had gathered behind the counter together, smiling. Spamton glanced down towards the back of the store and saw Vivi talking to a still seated Queen.

“Thank you,” Swatch politely smiled back at them in return.

“Have a beautiful day!” Survey said with a beaming grin.

“Come back and see us again soon Spammy!” Click insisted, pointing at his little brother.

“I’M NOT [Coming Back Soon] TO BE YOUR [Personal Dress Up Doll]!!!” Spamton snapped with a scowl.

“You mad Spammy? Gonna maul me too?” Click pressed with a smirk.

“DOn’T TRY ME [Beach Bungalow’s Available Now!]!” Spamton growled, glaring aggressively at his brother.

Swatch reached up their free wing and placed it over Spamton, using it to squish him down against their shoulder. Spamton let out a flurry of frustrated sounds as he was pressed against the shoulder, weakly trying to push back against the wing. Swatch chortled and released the puppet, who turned his ire on them now.

“YOU [Over-Sized Feather Duster]!!!” Spamton snarled, shaking his tiny fist in Swatch’s face. Swatch just grinned in response. They bid farewell to the Addisons while Spamton fumed, before heading out of the store.

“COULD YOU LET ME [Prices Down] FEATHER HEAD?” Spamton asked gruffly once they were out on the street, and Swatch looked slightly surprised. Swatch reached up a wing and held it out in front of their shoulder, and Spamton stepped onto it. Then they held him out in front of their body, looking down at him with their head cocked to one side questioningly.

“You want to walk?” Swatch asked in confusion as Spamton crossed his arms over his chest.

“I… UH… HAVE SOME [Important Business] TO ATTEND TO [Around Town],” Spamton tried not to sound suspicious when explaining, looking away awkwardly, his anger finally faded.

Swatch raised their eyebrows slightly. “Well… actually you know what, I wanted to go into the café and check on how the Swatchlings have been doing without me,” they said, glancing away as well.

“SHALL WE [[Meet Up With] LATER THEN?” Spamton asked, surprised that Swatch wasn’t asking about what he wanted to go do.

Swatch furrowed their eyebrows. “How about we just meet up back at the house when we are done?” they suggested with a sweeping gesture with their other wing which was holding the shopping bags.

“[[Sure Thing]]!” Spamton said, as Swatch lowered him to the ground so he could step off their wing.

“By the way, don’t stay out too late, some of the Swatchlings said there has been a strange figure stalking the streets at night,” Swatch said with slight humour as they stood up straight again and turned to go.

“WHAT? [Genuine Product]?” Spamton asked with surprise.

Swatch shrugged. “No one has got a close look at them, but they all say they heard the jingling of bells before the figure disappears into the night,” they explained with a wry smile.

“HA HA VERY FUNNY,” Spamton shot back sarcastically at Swatch’s attempt to unnerve him. “I THINK YOU’VE GOT A [Way To Go!] WITH YOUR HUMOR.”

“I mean… that’s really what the Swatchlings said to me… but you know them, they are scared of maice after all. Could just be their imaginations,” Swatch replied, before winking and walking away.

Spamton felt an unexpected shiver run up the back of his neck, though he cursed the reaction. It seemed that the more comfortable Swatch was getting with him the more they were trying to mess with him, just like his brothers would.

Spamton shook the feeling and thoughts away. He needed to focus on the mission. But where was he going to get flowers, like Popup had suggested? There wasn’t exactly a lot of shops in castle town, and flowers were one of the few things his brothers didn’t sell, otherwise Popup would have just given him some.

Seam did seem to sell some odds and ends, perhaps they would known where Spamton could get some flowers? Spamton didn’t exactly know them personally but it couldn’t hurt to ask. They also didn’t seem like the type of person to make fun of him for it.

So Spamton made his way off to Seam’s shop, which was just across from the café. He hoped Swatch wouldn’t catch him sneaking his way in there. Then again, he was very small, so it was quite easy for him to go unnoticed, though usually to his detriment. An Addison’s whole purpose was to be noticed. It was no wonder he had struggled to sell anything.

It was very dim inside the tent structure, with the wall colour very dark and the only light sources being the outside light creeping in past the door flap and some candle powered lanterns hanging from the walls. In the middle an old wooden cabinet lay on its side on the floor as a makeshift counter. The old cat sat behind it, resting their hands on the wooden surface, smiling down at Spamton. Behind them on the wall was an array of shelves covered in a wide variety of strange and unusual items.

“Hee hee... welcome,” Seam said, their grin widening. “Why, if it isn’t the bird’s little friend. How might I assist you? Looking to buy something? Ha ha ha…”

Something about the cat’s mannerisms was rather unsettling to Spamton, but he pushed himself to step up to the counter, which was taller than he was. “ACTUALLY, [Affirmative], I AM [Looking For A Little Something]. I DON’T THINK YOU WILL [Have It In Stock] BUT MAYBE… YOU MIGHT KNOW WHERE I CAN [Score A Deal],” the request came out more nervously than Spamton had intended.

“Is that so…? What is it that you need, small one…?” Seam looked down at him with interest, their button eye rotating once, mouth slightly open.

Spamton felt suddenly embarrassed about what he was about to ask, and quickly tried to swallow his anxiety. “[Fresh Flowers For Your Beloved],” he slapped his hands over his mouth as the tic escaped, his eyes going wide.

“Ha ha ha... so that’s what it is,” Seam laughed very lowly and softly in amusement, the corners of their mouth pulling back up into a smile again. “Trying to woo your large, feathered friend…?”

“THAT’S… NONE OF YOUR [[Business]]!!!” Spamton exclaimed indignantly, glowering up at the shopkeeper.

“Ha ha ha, easy now, I don’t mean anything by it,” Seam chuckled. “But as far as flower’s go, I’m not sure I can help.”

“UEE HEE HEE, FLOWERS, FLOWERS?” Another voice suddenly piped up from behind the counter, startling Spamton. Suddenly a black and purple jesters hat peaked over the counter, followed by a round grey face with yellow glowing pupils set in dark eyes.

“[Heaven]S ABOVE, NOT YOU!” Spamton exclaimed in dismay, baring his teeth at the imp.

Jevil burst into laughter as he rose into the air above the desk, the bells on his hat jingling with the movement. He leaned down towards Spamton, grinning for ear to pointy ear. “SPAMTON, SPAMTON, DO YOU WANT TO PLAY A GAME?”

“NO!!!” Spamton exclaimed, scowling up at the jester. This was the very reason Swatch’s eerie rumours had made him nervous. He hated this damn clown.

“AW BOO HOO HOO, YOU WOUND ME SPAMMY,” Jevil said while still smiling down at him. “DON’T WANT TO PLAY A GAME, GAME, WITH YOUR OLD PAL?” Spamton noticed that Seam was silently watching this exchange with great amusement.

“WE ARE NOT [Friend Request Accepted] YOU STUPID CLOWN!!!” Spamton shouted, jumping up and down with frustration. “I DOn’T WANT TO PLAY [Minecrap] WITH YOU!!”

This time Jevil’s smile fell, and he withdrew slightly, now looking hurt. “NOT EVEN IF I COULD HELP YOU WITH WHAT YOU SEEK, SEEK?”

Confusion washed over Spamton and he paused his tirade. “HOW CAN YOU [Acquire] FLOWERS?” he asked dubiously, even if he was concerned over what the answer might be.

“I CAN DO ANYTHING!” Jevil exclaimed with renewed vigour and reached up to pluck his jesters hat off his head. A shock of white hair was revealed once the headpiece was removed, with two small grey horns stick up out of it. Jevil held the hat out in front of himself. He reached a purple mitted hand inside it, poking his tongue out in a look of intense concentration. With a flourish he pulled his hand out of the hat, clutching a bouquet of flowers.

Spamton rolled his eyes as Jevil held out the bouquet towards him. Then he reached up to try and take the offering, but Jevil quickly pulled the flowers back out of reach, laughing manically.

“HEY, WHAT GIVES?” Spamton asked crossly, planting his hands on his hips and scowling up at the imp.

“JUST GIVING IT TO YOU WOULD BE TOO EASY, EASY!” Jevil announced smugly. “YOU’LL HAVE TO PLAY FOR IT!”

Spamton closed his hands into fists, and sighed. “I GUESS IF I HAVE [No Choice]…” he grated out, before glaring up at the clown again. “[Make It Snappy] THOUGH, I [Aint Got All Day Y’Know].”

“PLEASE, IT'S JUST A SIMPLE NUMBERS GAME,” the jester said, reaching into his hat again. He pulled out a desk of cards this time, before returning the hat onto his head. “YOU KNOW HOW TO PLAY IT, RIGHT? BLACKJACK?”

Chapter Text

“SURE, I KNOW HOW TO PLAY,” Spamton said snappily while Jevil shuffled the deck in weird and gravity defying ways. Jevil slowly sank through the air until he was sitting on the counter in front of Seam, still facing Spamton. He pulled two cards from the deck and placed them face down on the edge of counter closest to Spamton, and another two in front of his own crossed legs.

Spamton looked around, then scurried off into the corner of the room to grab a spare box, carrying it over to the counter and placing it down next to it. Spamton stepped up on the box so his head could peak over the counter and see the game. Jevil smiled down at him impishly.

“I BET THE BOUQUET,” the flowers were hovering suspended over the clown’s head. “WHAT DO YOU BET, BET?”

Spamton looked up at the imp with dismay. “REALLY? UGH      , FINE,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out the notes his brother had given to him, before slapping one down on the table next to the cards. “HAPPY NOW?”

“UEE HEE HEE, WE SHALL SEE,” Jevil said, flipping one the card in front of him. It was a face card. He flipped Spamton’s cards a well, two sixes. “WELL? DRAW OR HOLD?”

“DRAW,” Spamton grated out between clenched teeth. Jevil laughed as he drew another card from the deck and placed it face up in front of Spamton. It was a face card.

“[$!$!]!” Spamton cursed as Jevil laughed gleefully, grabbing up the dark dollar and shoving it up under his hat. Seam was also chuckling behind the imp.

“UEE HEE HEE, WILL YOU PLAY AGAIN, AGAIN?” Jevil asked cheerily as Spamton seethed.

“[$!$!] YOU CLOWN, DRAW THE DAMN CARDS,” Spamton spat as he slammed another dark dollar down on the counter. Jevil smiled unperturbed, moving the old cards out of the way and replacing them.

When Spamton lost again, he tried to reach up and grab at Jevil, but the jester quickly leaped out of the way.

“UNLUCKY, UNLUCKY,” Jevil crowed as he tucked the second dark dollar into his hat. “DO YOU GIVE UP?” he cocked his head at a strange angle as he looked down at the seething salesman.

“YOU WISH! [Come On Down To] FACE ME AGAIN,” Spamton snapped, baring his teeth at the clown again.

Jevil watched Spamton cautiously as he floated down to pick up the cards on the table, shuffling them back into the deck. Spamton considered trying to swipe at him again but decided to hold back for now. He put down another dark dollar and waited for the jester to deal the cards. Spamton glanced at Seam again, who seemed to be smiling with amusement at the proceedings.

On the third loss Spamton lunged towards Jevil but the imp skipped backwards through the air, leaving Spamton to crash into the bare counter face first. When Spamton raised his head up he saw Jevil was snaking around Seam’s shoulders, face plastered with smug satisfaction as he waved the dark dollar back and forth. Seam just sighed and shook their head, smiling.

“I’M TOO FAST, FAST FOR YOU SPAM MAN,” Jevil teased, resting his elbows on Seam’s shoulder as he smiled down at the salesman. Spamton collected himself, muttering obscenities as he put down another dark dollar onto the counter.

With a whirl of Jevil’s finger four cards flew through the air and settled down on the table, the others having slid out of the way after being hit by Spamton’s face. Two lazily turned over, and when Spamton looked up at Jevil again the imp’s smile had faded, and he looked a little bored.

Spamton looked down at the cards. Jevil had a three, and Spamton had an ace and a face card. A smile spread across the puppets face; luck was finally turning his way.

“DRAW,” Spamton announced confidently, smirking up at the jester. Jevil frowned and sent another card down his way. It flipped over, revealing to be a face card.

“[Jackpot!]” Spamton exclaimed, pumping his fists in the air in triumph.

“HUH, I THOUGHT I RIGGED THE DECK, DECK,” Jevil said with a frown, spreading the deck in his fingers and looking at the cards in puzzlement.

“YOU WHAT?!” Spamton exclaimed, jumping up on the table to point up at Jevil accusingly. Seam recoiled a little bit from the angry puppet.

“WHATEVER, IT DOESN’T MATTER, MATTER,” Jevil dismissed, pushing away from Seam and floating around to the side, staying out of reach of Spamton. “HEE HEE, TAKE THIS FOR YOUR BRID OF A FEATHER.” The bouquet floated through the air towards the puppet.

Spamton snatched the flowers out of the air with a huff, still glaring at the imp. “I’D ALMOST [Preference Set] TO SHOVE THEM UP YOUR [@$$]!!”

Jevil simply burst out cackling at this as he slowly spun through the air. Spamton flipped him the bird, before turning around to climb back down off the counter.

“WELL [Ladies and Gentlemen], IT’S BEEN [[Great]] TO SEE YOU, BUT I HAVE OTHER PRESSING [Engagements to Attend],” Spamton announced as he hopped down onto the floor and started heading towards the door.

“UEE HEE HEE, SEE YOU SOON SPAMMY!” Jevil called out behind him. “AND SAY HI TO THEM FOR ME.”

Spamton paused looked back over his shoulder at the clown for a moment. “WHO???” he asked in confusion. “SWATCH?”

“NO, SILLY, THE MAN WHO SPEAKS IN HANDS!” Jevil clarified, still grinning.

Spamton felt his whole body freeze up, and his eyes went wide for a moment. He coughed, trying to shake the feeling off. “I DOn’T [Talk The Talk] WITH HIM ANYMORE         ,” he said gruffly.

“I HAVE A FEELING YOU’LL BE HEARING FROM HIM AGAIN SOON, HEE HEE,” Jevil said, still smiling but somehow looking more serious at the same time. Seam was looking at the jester with concern.

Spamton was suddenly too unsettled to say anything, and quickly hurried out of the shop, fist tightening around the bouquet. He did not want to think about that right now. If he did, he might spiral into a panic attack.

Instead, he tried desperately to turn his mind back to his mission. He had acquired flowers. What were they for again? It was getting hard to think, and his vision was getting fuzzy. He stood outside the shop, trying to control his breathing and clear his head.

Swatch. They were for Swatch, of course. The bird’s handsome features filled Spamton’s mind, driving away the static. Spamton needed to get home to give them the gift. He blinked away the ominous thoughts and set off in the direction of Swatch’s house.

It took a lot longer to get around town on Spamton’s short stubby legs as compared to riding on the bird’s shoulder. Though it was always somewhat dark in the dark world, there were many blue lights in the sky that lit up castle town during their ‘day’ and dimmed down in the evening. By the time Spamton was halfway home, it was already starting to get darker, and there were less darkeners out and about.

Spamton was getting a little nervous about the growing shadows in the areas out of reach of the streetlamps. They seemed to almost move in his peripheral vision. It wasn’t like he had to worry anymore about Swatch’s earlier warning, he had already unfortunately run into the jingle monster and survived. But now a different monster was creeping at the edges of his mind, and he kept thinking he saw glimpses their pale face in the thick shadows.

Spamton shook his head again. He really shouldn’t let what the clown says get to him. It was probably just a prank anyway, the imp was just trying to scare him, and he was letting them succeed. Spamton took a deep breath, straightening his back, and continued to march towards home.

Spamton reached Swatch’s house and scrambled in through the cat flap, trying not to damage the bouquet as he did so. He had seen that the lights were on in the house from outside, so once he straightened up Spamton held the bouquet behind his back, looking around the room for Swatch.

Spamton instantly spotted the bird leaning over the dining table, and so he slowly approached. Spamton noticed that Swatch was setting the table, the bird still wearing the simple black vest over his white shirt from earlier that day. There was a booster seat on one of the chairs. A candelabra with lit thin stick candles sat in the middle of the table.

“Oh, Spamton, there you are,” Swatch placed the last of the cutlery down and stood up straight, turning to Spamton. “You took quite some time, I thought I warned you not to stay out too late.”

“[Apologies For The Delay],” Spamton said, stopping a few feet from the table. “WHAT’S UP WITH THE [High Quality Scented Candles]??”

“What’s up with the flowers?” Swatch asked in response, smirking slightly.

Slight alarm rushed through Spamton, and he struggled to form words as he pulled the bouquet from behind his back. “THEY’RE THEY;RE THEy’RE FOR FOR FOR THE TABLE!” he finally managed to stutter out, trying desperately not to blush.  

“Of course,” Swatch said wryly, and walked off to grab an empty vase off a shelf. They took it into the kitchen to fill partially with water, before bringing it back over to the table and setting it down in the middle next to the candles. They then reached down towards Spamton for the bouquet.

Spamton twitched a little bit, before holding up the flowers as high as he could reach. Swatch gently took them from him with a smile, before straightening up and turning to place them in the vase.

“You hungry?” Swatch asked as they turned back to Spamton, leaning over towards him again. Spamton nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. Swatch reached down and picked up the puppet, moving over to place him in the booster seat.

“I hope you will enjoy what I have prepared this evening,” Swatch said with a smile as they walked back into the kitchen area. Spamton wriggled in the seat to get comfortable, looking down at the set table. The tablecloth was clearly a clean, fresh one, as it didn’t have the stains and marks from the spot Spamton usually sat on top of it for meals.

Spamton turned his attention back to Swatch, who was busy at the kitchen counter. Soon they turned around holding a plate in each wing and walked back over to the table. They carefully placed Spamton’s plate down in front of him, before putting down their own and then taking a seat at the other end of the table.

Spamton turned his eyes down to the dish sitting in front of him. A piece of perfectly cooked roasted salmon lay in the middle of the plate, topped with a lemon slice, and covered with white pepper and chive sauce. It was served with a side of green garden peas and baby potatoes. Everything on the plate seemed to be so carefully and deliberately arranged.

“Well, what do you think?” Swatch asked in a patient tone, watching Spamton’s face closely as they waited for an answer.

“THIS LOOKS [[Incredible!]]!!” Spamton announced in awe, eyes looking between Swatch and the meticulously prepared meal.

“I’m glad you are impressed by the presentation, though please save your final verdict until you actually try some,” Swatch said humbly, gesturing towards the meal before picking up their own cutlery. Spamton grabbed up the half-sized knife and fork set down next to his plate, and started digging into the meal, despite momentarily balking at the thought of messing up the presentation.

Spamton looked up briefly to see Swatch carefully eating their own meal, their gaze trained on the puppet, eyes smiling. Spamton almost choked on a baby potato, and glanced away quickly, feeling his face heat up.

Spamton grabbed the small glass of wine which sat next to his place, taking a large mouthful to wash down the food and clear his throat. “S-S-SO… [What’s The Occasion]??” he asked nervously.

Swatch sighed, putting an elbow on the table, and resting their cheek against their hand, looking at Spamton with half lidded eyes. They then shrugged. “A new beginning?” they suggested.

“S-SU-SURE!!” Spamton exclaimed, grabbing up his glass and raising it in the air. “TO A [New Beginning]!”

Swatch smiled and raised their own glass, before taking a sip. Spamton downed half of what he had left in one gulp, before digging back into the meal.

Chapter Text

Swatch had to stop themself from flat out laughing when they saw the tiny puppet trying to hide a bouquet of flowers half the size of his own body behind his back. Of course, they had been able to see the flowers from their elevated point of view as they looked down at him. And obviously they knew the flowers were for them. But then Spamton had panicked and made his excuse about them being for the table, and Swatch had played along with it, not wanting to fluster the puppet too badly before their dinner date. Though they doubted Spamton even realised it was a date.

Swatch wondered how they had managed to fall for someone quite this oblivious, as they watched Spamton enjoying the meal they had specially prepared, putting in a lot of effort to try and impress someone who would eat literal trash. How had they suddenly found themself attracted to the puppet? It was difficult to call him good-looking at all, though he was rather cute. But it was definitely more of his personality that Swatch had fallen for. He was trying so hard to be a better person, and the way he cared for the bird was most endearing.

Swatch struggled to maintain their composure again when Spamton started choking on his food. The little guy may be a sweetheart, but gosh was he dumb as hell sometimes. Perhaps Swatch was attracted specifically to morons. Of course, the puppet’s antics made them laugh a lot as well. They had always been so serious when working in the mansion and hadn’t laughed as much in their life as they had since Spamton had shown up. He had helped them loosen up a bit, to not be so uptight all the time.

Swatch watched as Spamton downed the rest of the wine in his glass nervously, still avoiding maintaining eye contact. Swatch pushed back their chair and rose to their feet, which caused Spamton to lock eyes with them apprehensively. Swatch moved around the table and picked up the bottle of wine, turning to pour it into Spamton’s glass, filing it to the top again. Swatch wondered if getting the puppet drunk would help him to confess his feelings.

“O-OH, [Thank You]!” Spamton piped up while Swatch set the bottle back down on the table, moving back to take a seat again.

“So, what do you think of the flavour?” Swatch asked casually in reference to the dinner, resting their gaze back on the puppet.

“O-OH, YES, IT’S [[Fantastic]] [[Amazing]] [[Incredible]] [[I Love It]]!!!” Spamton exclaimed eagerly, reaching for the wine again. Swatch looked at him in concern momentarily as he quickly consumed more alcohol, briefly wondering if puppets could get alcohol poisoning.

“I’m glad you like it, I put quite a bit of effort into preparing it, trying to perfect it,” Swatch said appreciatively, gesturing to the meal with a wing.

“O-OH, [Hold The Line], WHAT ABOUT YOUR [Injured? Good.] WING? YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE [Rest and relaxation] TODAY, BUT YOU [Forge Ahead] AND DID ALL THIS?” Spamton questioned, his voice pitching up slightly in concern.

Swatch waved their non-injured wing dismissively. “Please don’t worry, I was careful, and it’s feeling a lot better anyway.”

Spamton raised a questioning eyebrow at the bird. “WILL YOU BE [Back To Work] TOMORROW THEN?”

Swatch tipped their wing back and forth in the air in a noncommittal gesture. “Perhaps I’ll come back on for light duties, or just supervision. Did you miss having me there that much?”

“WELL, THE [Customers] WERE A LITTLE DISAPPOINTED TO NOT SEE YOUR [Pretty Face] BEHIND THE COUNTER,” Spamton said with a small humorous smile.

“Oh? And what about yourself?” Swatch asked with a slight smug grin.

Spamton’s eyes widened, and he started pulling on his collar, before quickly going for the wine again. “I-I MEAN OF COURSE I MISSED YA [Big Bird], IT AINT THE [Same Great Taste] WITHOUT YA,” he managed to stammer out before taking another big sip.

“I’m touched,” Swatch said with a cheeky smile. They got up again to refill Spamton’s glass, eyes lingering on the flowers in the middle of the table as they did so.

“So where did you get these?” Swatch asked as they sat back down again.

“FRoM A [Stupid] [Clown],” Spamton grumbled contemptuously, tiding up his plate.

“Oh, Jevil?” Swatch asked innocuously.

“HUH??? hOW [Have You Heard About] HIm?” Spamton asked, staring at Swatch in surprise, fork hanging loosely between his ball-jointed fingers.

“I thought I mentioned before that I used to go play chess with Seam. Jevil was always there as well. He kept trying to eat the chess pieces, especially the knights,” Swatch explained with a wave of their own fork. “Hrm, I should really go back to visit them again… they have probably been wondering why I haven’t been back. I hope I haven’t offended them.”

“YOU     ? OfFEnD SOM31? Is tHaT EVeN PoSsIBLe?” Spamton asked sarcastically, his speech starting to noticeably change. Swatch noticed the puppet’s face was rather flushed now. “I’m suRe theY’re fine.”

Swatch chuckled as Spamton finished his third glass of wine. Spamton’s little arm reached out towards the wine bottle, grabbing feebly at it. Swatch quickly got up and reached over to pour him another glass. Spamton mumbled a thank you, before drinking again.

Swatch picked up the empty plates and took them over to the kitchen to place on the sink while Spamton continued to drink. When they came back and sat down, they had another sip from their own glass, which they hadn’t even refilled once yet.

“Swatchhh…” Spamton slurred in a strangely normal voice. “Did you knowww… I have a little secret…”

Swatch raised a confused and slightly alarmed eyebrow at the puppet. “What is it?” they simply asked, not sure what else to say. Was this finally it?

“I… like youuu,” Spamton said, gaze dropping to the table.

“I know,” Swatch said with a satisfied smile.

“I mean…” Spamton continued, gesturing with his glass. “I LIKE like you.”

“I know…” Swatch repeated, trying not to chuckle.

“Like… I have this massive fuck off crush on you…” Spamton hiccupped, then seemed to register what he had just said, eye widening in embarrassment, his mouth shutting tightly.

“I know, Spamton,” Swatch said firmly and clearly, though still smiling.

“W-w-wait… you do?” Spamton asked in alarm. “Is it… that obvious?

“I mean, yeah,” Swatch said with a shrug.

“Oh god… that’s kinda… [Cringe]…” Spamton said, wincing and turning his head to the side.

“How is it ‘cringe’?” Swatch asked softly, eyebrows drawing together.

“Because… well… you're you! And I’m me…” Spamton said in dismay, eyes downcast.

“What do you mean?” Swatch asked with concern.

“It’sss… it’s not like I even have a chance with someone like you…” Spamton sounded so melancholy about it.

“Why?” Swatch shot back, feeling ever so slightly annoyed with the puppet.

“Cause you’re so hot! You could have anyone… and I’m…” Spamton trailed off.

“Do you really think appearance is the only thing that matters Spamton?” Swatch asked huffily, frowning slightly. “That’s a pretty shallow point of view.”

Spamton squirmed in his seat under the bird’s gaze, reaching for the glass again, only to find it empty to his apparent dismay.

Swatch sighed deeply. “Spamton… I like you too,” they finally said, resting their elbow on the table and their chin in their hand as they looked across at the puppet.

Spamton’s head shot up to look at the bird again, alarm and confusion plastering his features. “W-w-what?” he managed to stutter out.

“I like you in the same way,” Swatch spelled out in exasperation.

Spamton stared at Swatch with what the bird could only describe as some form of fear. Then his expression changed to one of irritation. “Oh… that’s a cruel prank to play with a man’s heart,” he looked around the room nervously. “Where are the hidden cameras, huh?”

“I’m not joking Spamton,” Swatch said testily, glowering slightly at the puppet.

Spamton’s expression was now indescribable. “O…oh? R-r-really?” he managed to choke out, staring at Swatch in disbelief. “But… but why?”

A fair enough question, considering Swatch had been asking the same of themself.

“I think you are cute, and sweet, and funny,” Swatch responded, expression softening.

“Y-you really mean that?’ Spamton asked, his voice edged with desperation and scepticism, jumping up in his seat and planting his hands on the table, leaning forward towards Swatch.

Swatch nodded, sighing again.

“Oh… oh my…” Spamton said, face ruddy and eyebrows furrowed. He slowly sat back down on the chair, emotions battle across his face, clearly stunned, and lost for words.

Swatch stood up and walked over to Spamton’s seat, which caused the puppet to flinch back slightly. They reached out slowly to him, assessing his body language to try and see if he was going to be okay with being picked up. Spamton didn’t recoil any further, just blushed more furiously as Swatch wrapped their wings around him and lifted him out of the chair.

Swatch cradled the puppet with one wing wrapped around his middle and another supporting his rear, holding him up near face height. Spamton was flustered as hell, practically squirming in Swatch’s grip, though not like he was trying to escape. He was looking around anxiously, his breath quickening.

“I like you a lot, Spammy,” Swatch reassured with a gentle smile.

“B-but, why didn’t you say anything, if you knew I liked you?” Spamton said tensely, struggling to maintain eye contact.

“I’m sorry, I kind of wanted you to admit it first,” Swatch said with a small shrug.

“H-how long?” Spamton asked in a small voice.

“Mmmm… a while,” Swatch said vaguely.

Swatch brought Spamton closer to their face and leaned in at the same time. Spamton tensed up as Swatch closed the gap, looking slightly alarmed. Swatch gently pressed the top of their beak against Spamton’s cheek and nuzzled him softly.

Swatch felt Spamton shiver slightly under their touch before the puppet leaned into it. Spamton ended up practically resting his head against Swatch’s beak, and Swatch could see tears forming in the little guy’s eyes.

“Is this… am I dreaming?” Spamton asked, followed by a hiccup which jolted through his entire body.

Swatch shook their head with a smile. “No, my dear,” they said, nuzzling the tears off Spamton’s cheeks.

Spamton’s eyelids started drooping, his eyes looking unfocused. He looked tired. Swatch carried him over to the couch, placing him gently down in his nest. Swatch plucked the two-toned glasses off Spamton’s face and set them down beside the nest, before getting down on their knees next to the sofa. Spamton had curled up in a ball, and Swatch started stroking his back softly.

The puppet closed his eyes and relaxed against Swatch’s touch, drifting off into a drunken slumber.

----------

When Spamton regained consciousness, the first thing he became aware of was the pounding feeling in his head. He struggled to even open his eyes, and the light of the room was so bright to him it hurt. Apart from the pain his mind was blank as he tried to push himself up into a sitting position. It didn’t help that his vision was fuzzy at the best of times, and he blinked rapidly to try and look around the room.

He also tried to remember what happened before he fell asleep. After some struggle he recalled arriving home, and eating at the table with Swatch, and drinking wine, but the rest was escaping him.

Spamton fumbled around to find his glasses, eventually managing to grab them and put them on. It helped clear his vision a little, and the tinted lenses even reduced the glare of the light a little, well, at least the pink one.

He looked around and saw Swatch approaching the sofa with a plate in one wing and mug in the other, smiling at Spamton.

“Morning, love,” the bird said as they placed the breakfast down on the coffee table in front of the puppet.

Spamton felt his breath catch in his throat, his eye’s going wide. “L-L-L-LOVE?!?!?!” he choked out in shock.

Chapter Text

Spamton stared at the tall bird in shock and confusion, his heart suddenly pounding in his chest.

“WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?” he practically yelled the question, causing Swatch to tense up and their feathers to puff out slightly, their smile having fallen away.

“Is there something wrong?” Swatch asked in concern, reaching out a wing tentatively towards Spamton.

“WHAT THE [$!$!] DID YOU JUST CALL ME?” Spamton demanded, staring wide eyed at Swatch.

“Uh… do you have a problem with me calling you love, dear?” Swatch asked, looking dismayed.

“DEAR?!?!?!” Spamton almost screamed in disbelief, his heart now pounding in his eardrums.

“Y-yes? Do you… not like pet names, Spammy?” Swatch sounded a little distressed.

Spamton opened his mouth but all that poured out of his voice box for a moment was static, which also started to fill his vision. He couldn’t comprehend what was happening here.

He stared blindly ahead for a moment, body stiff, until he felt something touch his back. His vision started to clear, and he looked up to see Swatch had taken a seat next to him and was looking down at him with great concern, while pressing a wing against the puppet’s back.

“WH-WHAT HAPPENED LAST NIGHT?” Spamton finally managed to ask, wincing slightly at the pain from a headache that was starting to form.

“Um… we had dinner… and you got drunk…” Swatch started to softly explain.

“AND THEN????” Spamton prompted desperately.

“You told me you liked me,” Swatch continued tentatively.

“OH GOD NO…” Spamton winced and felt his heart sink into his stomach.

“And I said I liked you back,” Swatch added.

“OH GOD WHAT???” Spamton yelped, almost jumping in his seat. He looked up at Swatch imploringly, who smiled down at him gently.

“I guess I must have refilled your glass too many times,” the bird mused, gently rubbing Spamton’s back.

“ARE YOU… [Serious Enquiries Only]??” Spamton only just realised that was his first tic of the morning, apart from the swear censor.

Swatch nodded. “Ah… it’s a pity you don’t remember it… guess I’ll just have to put on an encore,” the bird said, and suddenly reached down their other wing to wrap around Spamton’s chest, lifting the puppet out of the nest.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Spamton squeaked out as he was raised up to the bird’s face. Swatch closed their eyes, leaned down and started nuzzling the puppet with their beak. Spamton froze in place, his breath catching in paralysed lungs. He blinked rapidly in disbelief, his mind trying to process what was happening.

Once Swatch pulled away again a dial tone rushed out of Spamton’s mouth along with the breath he had been holding. He stared at the bird, slowly blinking.

“Y…Y-YOU… M-ME?” Spamton failed to ask a question as his thoughts were so jumbled together while warm feelings surged through his body.

Swatch chuckled and nodded again reassuringly.

Spamton felt his muscles relax slightly, even though he was still reeling in disbelief. He reached his short arms out towards Swatch, who looked at them questioningly, before moving their head closer again. Spamton grabbed the bird beak, leaning his head against it and sighing.

“I love you, [Big Bird],” Spamton said softly, pressing his face against the other’s.

Swatch nuzzled him back again. “See? Is that so hard?” they said, before pulled Spamton down from their face and cradling him against their chest. Spamton sighed deeply as he tried to release the tension from his body, cuddling up against the bird.

Swatch leaned down and started gently preening Spamton’s bedhead. Spamton laughed and squirmed in place against the bird’s grip, letting out short sounds of protest at the grooming. Swatch pulled back, looking down at the puppet with the warmest possible smile.

“OH GOD… I FEEL SICK…” Spamton suddenly said, his hangover catching up to him. Swatch quickly put him down on their lap, where Spamton knelt over, holding his stomach. Don’t throw up on the bird, don’t throw up on the bird, don’t do it.

“Are you alright?” Swatch asked with concern as Spamton took deep breaths in his hunched over position.

“[Better Than Ever]! JUST ALL THOSE [Alcoholic Beverages] CATCHING UP TO ME,” Spamton explained, trying to get control of his nausea.

“Hang on, I made you some lemon balm and orange tea that helps with hangovers,” Swatch said as they reached over to top of Spamton and picked the small mug up off the coffee table. They held it out in front of Spamton, who reached out to take it with trembling hands. He held it to his mouth and sipped at it, the warm liquid washing down his throat.

“THANK YOU…” Spamton said in a drained voice, shuffling around to sit on Swatch lap cross legged while sipping on the calming tea. He felt Swatch start to rub his back gently again.

“Do you want to stay home today?” Swatch asked softly.

“MIGHT HAVE TO…” Spamton sighed, scrunching up his face as another wave of nausea washed over him. He held out the mug, and Swatch moved it back onto the table for him.

“Then I guess I take one more day off too,” Swatch said, now rubbing Spamton’s shoulders.

Swatch wanted to stay home to take care of him? Spamton felt tears start to fill his eyes while his heart swelled in his chest. He sniffled, reaching up to try and dash the tears away from under his glasses. He felt Swatch’s wings go still on his shoulders.

“Are you… crying, Spam?” Swatch asked in a worried tone, and Spamton felt them shift as they leaned down over him more.

Spamton’s only reply was a hiccupped sob that escaped from his throat, and a wavering breath that followed it.

Swatch leaned all the way down to press their head against the side of Spamton’s, their chin resting on his shoulder. “What’s wrong, love?” they asked softly.

That just caused Spamton to burst out into massive sobs, the tears coming out quickly now. Swatch held him tightly between their wings, nuzzling his cheek softly.

“PLEASE… DON’T LET THIS BE A DREAM…” Spamton cried, the sobs wracking his small body.

Swatch made soft shushing and cooing noises as the puppet cried.

“THIS CAN’T BE [The Real Deal]… I DON’T I DOn’T I DON’T DESERVE THIS,” he wailed pitifully.

“You really think you are undeserving of love, dear? Why?” Swatch’s voice sounded distressed.

Spamton’s throat closed up and he couldn’t really answer the question, just fought to try and stop himself from crying. It was all so overwhelming for him, and he still couldn’t believe it was real.

“I love you Spammy, I really do,” Swatch tried to reassure. This only caused Spamton to cry even harder. Swatch withdrew their head slightly. They plucked Spamton’s glasses off his face and put them down on the table, before trying to dash away the tears with their feathers.

“I’m sorry, I guess I’m coming on a bit strongly here… I’ve never been in love before so I’m not sure how to act…” Swatch muttered as they tried to wipe Spamton’s tears.

“You… you’re too perfect birdy…” Spamton huffed out softly as he tried to get control of his emotions. The tears slowed down and Spamton took some deep shuddering breaths.

“Come on big shot… it’s going to be okay,” Swatch said, letting go of Spamton. Spamton tilted his head right back to look up at the bird with watering eyes.

“OKAY, NOW YOU’RE JUST BEING MEAN,” he said in reference to the nickname. Swatch let out a short chuckle, glancing away guiltily.

“Well, I can stop if it really bothers you,” Swatch said half seriously.

Spamton shook his head and looked forward again so he wasn’t straining his neck. “IT’S JUST A LOT TO [Process], AND MY HEAD HURTS AND I FEEL LIKE THROWING UP,” he explained, wiping the remaining tears away with his sleeves. “I WISH I COULD REMEMBER LAST NIGHT…”

“Don’t push yourself too hard Spam, try and take it easy,” Swatch suggested lightly. “I’m guessing you probably don’t want to eat at the moment though.”

Spamton shook his head. Swatch reached over him and picked up the plate of toast, taking a piece and biting into it while Spamton collected himself. After finishing a piece, Swatch reached for the TV remote, turning on the flatscreen while Spamton lay down in their lap, resting his head on their thigh, feeling exhausted.

They spent the morning lazily watching TV, with Spamton slipping in and out of light sleep. Eventually his headache started to recede, and he sat up properly in the bird’s lap. Swatch suggested he take a bath to help him clear his head, and Spamton decided to take them up on that advice.

Spamton sat in the bathtub, trying not to cry again, expecting to wake up from this dream at any moment to find himself in a cold dumpster again. Everything about his life now was too good to be true, but he especially couldn’t believe that Swatch felt the same way as he did. That seemed simply impossible.

Once Spamton had finished getting clean, Swatch suggested they play some chess, probably to make things feel normal for Spamton again, to ground him. They played into the afternoon, Swatch maintaining some physical distance now from Spamton for the moment, probably to prevent him from getting overwhelmed again.

But Spamton found himself craving that physical affection, even though he knew it would probably make him cry. Swatch also reduced their use of the pet names, instead mostly sticking to Spam or Spammy.

In the evening some of the Swatchlings brought around a casserole for the two of them. The birds spoke excitedly with their leader about how things had been going at the café, asking when they would be back. Swatch assured them their wing had recovered fully, and they would be back at work in the morning. They showed appreciation for their subordinates’ thoughtfulness, before sending them away with a smile.

After dinner they watched a movie together, Spamton choosing to climb up into Swatch’s lap, to the bird’s surprise. Spamton leaned back against the bird’s firm torso, warmth from the hot avian body spreading through him. Once the movie had finished, Spamton made the crawl out of Swatch’s lap and into his nest, but the bird swiftly picked him up and started nuzzling him again.

“[Pretty Bird],” Spamton choked out quietly, blushing furiously.

“You know Spammy… I know you have your nest and all, but if you wanted to sleep in a real bed for once…” Swatch trailed off with a blush of their own.

If this was a cartoon, steam would have been spouting out of Spamton’s ears at that. He definitely felt like he was overheating as he looked into Swatch’s eyes, the bird’s expression looking a little uncertain now as they gauged Spamton’s reaction.

Spamton opened his mouth but only garbled computer sounds came out, so he nodded weakly instead. Swatch smirked and set Spamton down on the couch before getting to their feet.

“Get your pyjamas on and meet me in the bedroom then,” Swatch said before heading off towards the bedroom.

Spamton had to take a moment to metaphorically pick his jaw up off the floor. Then he scrabbled to pull his suit off and get into the homemade pyjamas Swatch had made for him. He then clambered down off the couch and hesitantly headed towards Swatch’s bedroom.

When he entered the room Spamton saw Swatch was already sitting in the bed leaning back against the headboard, shirtless. Spamton felt his heart rate increase massively. Swatch smiled at him and patted the bed next to themself with a wing. Spamton ran over and scrambled up the covers and onto the bed, before crawling up next to Swatch.

The bird reached out and grabbed up the puppet, placing him on their toned stomach. Then they picked up a book from the nightstand, opening it and holding it up in front of their face. Spamton blinked in disbelief as Swatch started reading to him. It wasn’t long though before he was curling up against the bird’s chest, the sound of their dulcet voice lulling him to rest.

Chapter Text

Swatch never thought things would end up like this when they had taken the little failed salesman home that night. They had never expected to fall in love, as they had always thought they were incompatible with those feelings. And yet here they were, lying in bed in the morning light, the tiny puppet curled up on their chest, and they couldn’t have been happier.

Once Spamton had fallen asleep the previous night while Swatch had been reading to him, they had taken his glasses off and put them on the nightstand alongside their own and the book. Then they had carefully scooted down into a laying position with the puppet still resting on top of them, before falling into a pleasant, comfortable sleep themself.

After they had awakened in the morning, they had proceeded to watch Spamton continue sleeping while warm feelings surged through their body. Spamton was simply so… small. Like a little cat curled up on them. It was incredibly adorable. Spamton was so cute Swatch had the unexplainable urge to squeeze the life out of him.

But at the same time, Swatch had overwhelming feelings of protection. They wanted to hold Spamton close at all times, to keep him safe from the cruel world that had wronged him so. They wanted to try and help fix the broken little puppet.

Swatch wished they could stay in this soft moment forever, but they had promised the Swatchlings they would return to work today, and it was about time they needed to get up, especially if they wanted to shower before work. They reached out a wing and started gently stroking Spamton’s hair.

“Wakey wakey,” they cooed softly, watching as Spamton’s eyelids slowly opened. The puppet started blinking with bewilderment at Swatch.

“O-OHHH,” Spamton groaned as pressed his hands down on Swatch’s feathers and pushed himself up into a sitting position, looking dazed.

“What’s wrong, Spammy?” Swatch asked, avoiding calling him ‘love’ as that seemed to overwhelm him last time.

“I REALLY THOUGHT THAT WAS ALL A [Dream Big],” Spamton muttered bashfully, avoiding eye contact.

Swatch reached out and put their wings around the puppet, pulling him close against their chest again, Spamton letting out a small indignant sound as they did so. “My feelings for you are real, and I will keep telling you that until you believe me,” they stated softly.

Spamton wriggled in Swatch’s grip in apparent embarrassment, though when he found his struggle to be futile, he sighed and buried his face in the thick black feathers. Swatch relaxed their grip slightly, and then started to stroke Spamton’s back, dragging a shuddering breath from the puppet.

“Come on, I have to shower before work,” Swatch said practically, carefully lifting the puppet off them and placing him down on the bed covers to one side. They lifted the covers off the other side and shuffled over to sit on the edge of the bed. They put on their glasses, before handing Spamton his own. Spamton appeared to be watching them in awe.

The puppet gently took the glasses and slid them onto his face, before blinking back up at Swatch again, who had stood up and was stretching their wings. Spamton got to his feet and stumbled over the covers towards Swatch, hopping down off the bed to follow the tall bird out of the room.

----------

After getting ready and dressed into their usual work clothing, the pair headed off to work in their usual manner, with Spamton riding on Swatch’s shoulder, as if nothing was different. Except everything was different now. Spamton leaned against the bird’s head as they walked, rubbing his face against the feathers. Swatch returned the gesture in kind, causing Spamton to flush.

Spamton sat up straighter as they approached the café, knowing that Swatch hadn’t said anything about these developments to the Swatchlings yet, and unsure if the bird wanted to tell the others in their own time. Spamton was still reeling from the whole thing himself, struggling to process it as real.

When they walked into the building and saw what was before them, Spamton slapped his hands over his mouth as he burst into laughter, almost falling off Swatch’s shoulder.

A big handmade banner hung over the customer service counter which read ‘Welcome Back Boss!’, flanked with balloons. The Swatchlings all gathered under the banner trilled out the same words in unison. Spamton felt Swatch’s shoulders sag underneath him.

“Come on guys, this is entirely unnecessary!” Swatch exclaimed, putting a wing to their temple.

“ARE YOU [Kidding] ME? THIS IS [[Amazing!]]” Spamton wheezed between bouts of laughter, clutching his stomach.

Swatch let out a long-suffering sigh. “I appreciate it guys, but please take it down before the customers start coming in,” they said pragmatically.

That didn’t seem to dampen the Swatchlings spirits, as they quickly got to work cleaning up their celebratory efforts in time for opening. Swatch walked around the counter to find a cake sitting on it in front of them. They chuckled as they set Spamton down on the counter and set to cutting up the cake and plating it up. As the Swatchlings finished cleaning up Swatch started passing out plates to them and put a smaller slice on a small plate for Spamton, handing it over to the salesman with a smile which warmed Spamton’s heart.

After enjoying the cake, they opened the café to customers, and the day proceeded like any other, Spamton helping Swatch make drinks at the counter, chatting away cheerily to them. Everything felt so perfect, and Spamton was brimming happiness.

At one point the pair attention was grabbed by some commotion near the doors to the café. Looking up they saw Rouxls arguing with a Swatchling, trying to push past them into the café. Spamton glanced up at Swatch, who was looking rather unimpressed, mouth set in a firm line.

“You keep things up here, I’ll go deal with him,” the bird said resolutely, walking stiffly back around the counter and over to the door. When Rouxls saw Swatch approaching he turned his ire upon them, which Swatch returned in kind. Swatch pushed up into Rouxls space, causing the butler to back up and out the doors, and soon both had disappeared from sight as they took the argument outside.

Spamton was waiting for the bird to return or a customer to come to the counter, when the phone, which hung on the wall next to the customer service counter, rang. It was a little unusual, given that most people would often just visit if they had any questions or requests. But Spamton didn’t really think much of it, as he ran across to counter to it and stood up on tip toes to grab the receiver off the hook. He brought it to his ear to answer.

“[Hi, You Have Reached] THE COLOR CAFÉ, [How May I Help You]?” he spoke in a cheery customer service tone into the receiver.

But when he heard the voice on the other end of the line his expression quickly fell, and he felt his lungs seize up in his chest and his stomach drop.

“Hello, Spamton,” the voice was incredibly muffled and garbled, but Spamton could still easily make out the words. “You finally picked up the phone. It’s been a long time since you’ve answered my calls.”

“No…” Spamton said softly, pulling the phone away from his ear and quickly pressing the button the end the call. Then he stood there for a while, staring at the phone in his hands, static creeping around the edge of his vision. Eventually he managed to slowly put the phone back up on its holder, though his eyes were still staring intensely without blinking.

Spamton sunk down into a sitting position on the counter, and tried to take long, deep breaths to calm himself. It felt like something was pulling on different points of his body. Trying to pull at his limbs. Despite his efforts his breath was coming out sharp and shallow, and his vision was filling with more static.

The phone started ringing again, causing Spamton to jump in alarm. He tried to ignore it, drawing his knees up to his chest and pressing his hands over his ears. Every ring caused his body to shudder, and he shut his eyes tightly to try and get rid of the static.

He thought he heard the muffled sound of someone calling out to him, but he just curled into himself even tighter. Suddenly he felt pressure on his wrists, and his hands being pulled away from his ears, despite his resistance.

“Spamton?” a soft voice asked, and Spamton realised the phone had stopped ringing. He cracked open an eye, and through the static that littered his vision he made out Swatch’s concerned face above him.

“What’s wrong Spammy?” Swatch asked as they gently held his hands in their fingers, rubbing their thumbs into his palms.

Spamton opened both his eyes as the static started to clear and let out a shuddering sigh. He opened his mouth to try and speak, but no sound would come out. He gave Swatch a helpless look.

“Come here,” Swatch said, scooping the puppet up into their wings. Spamton choked back a sob as Swatch held him against their chest. He was desperately trying to pull himself out of the dissociative episode, so that he wouldn’t worry the bird.

When the phone rang again it was like an electric shock ran straight up Spamton’s spine and he jolted in Swatch’s wings, before quickly pressing his face into the bird’s chest and grabbing onto their suit with his tiny hands.

Swatch removed one wing from Spamton, now only supporting him with the other. Spamton felt Swatch move, and then the sound of the phone being taken off the hook.

“Hello, this is the Color Café, how may I be of assistance?” Swatch said formally into the line. There was silence for a long while. “Hello?” Swatch repeated with uncertainty. After another moment they moved again, and the sound of them hanging up the phone was almost drowned out by the ringing noise building in Spamton’s head.  

Spamton felt Swatch’s whole body moving as they must have been walking, while the puppet took in shaky breaths against the monochrome fabric of their suit. He heard doors open and close, and then the noise of the café became quieter.

Spamton wanted to say he was okay, even though he could barely breath around the tightness in his chest. He felt Swatch running their wing up and down his back while making gentle shushing noises. Their concern for him made him want to cry more than the panic attack.

Eventually the ringing in his head started to die down and he managed to get his breathing under control. He opened his eyes and tried to blink away the static, before moving his head back slightly to look up at Swatch. The bird’s face was full of worry.

“Are you okay?” they asked slowly, uncertainly. Spamton nodded very slightly, releasing his vice grip on the suit fabric.

“What happened?” was Swatch’s next tentative question after Spamton didn’t say anything.

Spamton closed his eyes for a moment, before opening them again. “IT;S… NOTHING,” he lied very unconvincingly, refusing to make eye contact with the bird.

“You think I’m buying that?” Swatch said with a slight hint of irritation to their voice. Spamton flinched in response.

“Oh, no no no I’m sorry… it’s okay,” they quickly backpedalled as they watch Spamton grimace. They leaned down and started nuzzling the puppet instead. Spamton was too shaken to even get flustered, instead allowing himself to go slightly limp. He noticed that he was now being held in Swatch’s lap, who was sitting down on something in the dim storeroom at the back of the café.

“PLEASE… I’M OKAY…” Spamton eventually said, trying to push the bird away gently. Swatch withdrew, muttering apologies.

“Do you want to go home?” Swatch asked, voice still laced with concern.

Spamton shook his head. “NO, I;LL BE FINE, LET’S [Get Back To Work].”

“Well… if you are sure…” Swatch said uncertainly, placing Spamton down on the floor. The salesman straighten himself up and nodded, turning and heading for the door.

Chapter Text

After Spamton’s panic attack that first day back at work, throughout the rest of the week sometimes when Swatch was dragged away from the counter to go deal with an issue, they would hear the phone ringing. When they came back over, they would find Spamton huddled up in on himself, or at least looking a little panicked and unnerved. Unfortunately, Swatch wasn’t able to catch another one of the calls in progress, but fortunately it didn’t seem like Spamton was answering them either.

After the third time Swatch started taking Spamton with them if they had to leave their post, instructing a nearby Swatchling to watch the counter instead. Spamton seemed rather irritated about this but didn’t protest too much. When Swatch attempted to ask him about it, he gave snappy evasive responses, which hurt Swatch a bit. Why wouldn’t Spamton tell them what was wrong? Didn’t he trust them?

Though the calls stopped once Spamton was no longer left alone, the puppet was still tense and closed off. Their trips between work and home were quieter than usual, and Spamton didn’t lean on the bird like he had the other morning, instead sitting stiffly on their shoulder and staring ahead. At work he was also often silently sullen, not making as much small talk as usual. Swatch tried to chat with him in the normal light-hearted manner, but it didn’t seem to relax him much.

At home Spamton seemed to relax a little bit, though Swatch could tell a part of him was still on edge. Swatch attempted to shower him with affection, to take his mind off what was bother him, but it didn’t seem very effective. He was still unusually quiet and jumpy, even though he kept dismissing Swatch’s continued concerns. Swatch ended up trying to give him appropriate space, but it was frustrating.

It turned out that they weren’t safe at home either. One evening after work Swatch went into the bathroom to freshen up and was startled by the sound of the phone ringing through the house. They hurriedly rushed out into the living area, eyes quickly drawn to Spamton who was standing in front of where the phone was set up high on the wall, staring blankly at it as it rang, it being well out of his reach. Swatch was grateful for that much at least.

Swatch hastily stepped over to the phone and grabbed it off the receiver, holding it up to their head.

“Who is this?” they demanded angrily into the receiver; their expression pulled into a scowl.

They heard a click, and then a dial tone to indicate the call had been terminated. Swatch huffed in frustration, slamming the receiver back onto the hook. They turned to look down at Spamton, who was still staring ahead with unfocused eyes. They quickly bent to scoop him up, carrying him over to the couch and placing him down gently in his nest. They knelt down on the floor in front of him, taking his tiny hands in their fingers. Spamton’s gaze remained cast downwards.

“Spamton, love, please…” Swatch started in a pleading tone. “What’s going on? Who’s calling?”

Spamton raised his head slowly, looking up at Swatch with sad eyes. “NO 1 I WANT TO [Talk] 2,” he said simply, his voice wavering slightly.

“Spammy…” Swatch said sadly, leaning down to press their mouth against his head for a moment. “Why won’t you tell me about it?” they asked as they pulled back away.

Spamton hunched his shoulders up under their gaze, looking uncomfortable. “THERE NOTHING [You Or I] CAN DO ABOUT IT AN YWAY. JUST… [Don’t Worry About It] [Pretty Bird]…”

“Spam… I can’t just not worry about it, not worry about you. I love you dearly, and this is clearly affecting you,” Swatch said sadly. “Even if there isn’t anything I can do to help, I would still hope you would share with me.”

Spamton shook his head slowly. “I DOn’T WANT TO [Talk] ABOUT IT,” he said lowly, frowning.

“Well… I can’t make you I suppose…” Swatch said forlornly, before reaching down and scooping up the puppet again, holding him up against their collar, in the crook of their neck. “But I’ll still be here for you, and always ready to listen.”

They felt a small hand grip the fabric of their shirt tightly as Spamton buried his face in their shoulder. They squeezed the puppet tightly against them, titling their head down to nuzzle him with their beak.  

After a long embrace, Swatch pulled the puppet away from their body again, setting him back down in his nest. Then they got to their feet, and purposefully walked over to the phone on the wall. They reached out both wings and gripped the entire unit, before yanking as hard as they could, ripping it right off its screws. They proceeded to hurl it at the ground with all their strength, and it clattered across the floor.

They turned around, huffing slightly, to look over at Spamton, who was staring at them with wide eyes from where he was peering over to arm of the sofa. Swatch let out a chuckle and smiled at the salesman.

“No one ever calls me anyway,” they said with a shrug and a smirk.

----------

The phone was always ringing. It was incessant. Spamton didn’t know why he even kept it around anymore. It’s not like he ever answered it. It wasn’t worth answering, he knew that much. Yet somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to throw it away. He had to keep it around, just in case. Just in case things got any worse than they already were, in case he ran out of options, out of hope. In case he had no other choice.

The sound echoed through the dumpster, echoed through his head. He screwed up his eyes and covered his face with his hands, praying for it to stop. It didn’t. He opened his eyes and brough his hands away from his face, but when he did, he found green strings attached to his wrists, rising up into the air.

Spamton flinched and pulled against the strings. The phone continued to ring. The strings pulled taut and wrenched him around to face the phone. They yanked his hands over to the phone, knocking the receiver off the hook. It clattered to the floor, and static noise started pouring out of it, getting louder and louder.

Spamton tried to reach for the receiver to pick it up and put it back, but the strings held his arms back. He stared at the receiver in horror as a voice started speaking through the static.

“Don’t be afraid, Spamton, it’s only me,” the voice said in a smug tone, echoing around the puppet.

“It’s been a long time since we had a chat, but you go straight back to ghosting me again, a little impolite of you I must say” the voice continued slyly. “You haven’t forgotten about our little deal, have you?”

“HAH!” Spamton let out a short, sharp laugh. “[Jokes On You], I DOn’T NEED YOUR [Stupid] [[Deal]] AN YMORE! I’M DOING JUST [Fine]!”

“Oh, you mean playing house with the pretty birdy?” the voice let out a deep raspy chuckle over the line. “How long do you think that will last? You know you aren’t truly free yet. Are you happy with such a hollow, fleeting existence?”

“[$!$!] OFF, I’M [Not Interested] IN WHAT YOu’RE [[Selling]]!!” Spamton spat and started trying to wrench his limbs free of the strings, though to no avail.

“Well, you might be when everything starts turning to dust again before your eyes. I’ll ask again: How long do you think this false world will let you be happy? Another week maybe? A month? But you know, deep inside, that it will end like it always does,” the voice purred through the receiver.

“[$&%3^] YOU, [@$$]HOLE!” Spamton growled, yanking against the strings forcefully.

“You are certainly rude to someone who is only trying to help you,” the voice mused. “You know I only want one itty bitty little thing. Just… consider it… and answer my call when you’re ready to discuss it like a proper businessman.”

There was a click, and the line went dead. Suddenly the strings yanked hard on Spamton, ripping him off the chair and up into the air, dragging him up through an endless black void.

----------

Spamton jerked awake with a gasp, his eyes flying open and staring widely up at the void that surrounded him. Though after a beat he realised he wasn’t in a black empty space, but a dark room. Swatch’s bedroom, to be exact, lying on the mattress with the large bird curled around him.

Spamton sat up, just to be sure he was in control of his own body again. He held his hands out in front of him, resting them on his knees as he looked at his wrists, now free of any strings. He felt something large and warm wrap around his back and flinched, before glancing over at Swatch.

He could make out the bird’s expression even in the dark, and they looked very concerned. The pressure from the wing wrapped around his back comforted Spamton though, and he let out a shuddering breath.

“Nightmares back?” the bird asked softly.

Spamton nodded, balling up his fists and rubbing them into his eyes to try and chase off the remnants of the dream. Swatch gently pulled the puppet towards them, pushing his body into their chest. Spamton didn’t resist, leaning into the warm feathers. He felt the bird’s beak nuzzle into his hair as they started to preen him.

Spamton lifted his hands and sunk them into the feathers, running his fingers through the plumage and gripping fistfuls of it, focusing on the tactile sensation to try and calm his thoughts. It helped to slow his elevated heartrate and breathing, though the content of the dream remained vivid in his mind.

“Are you kneading me?” Swatch’s soft voice was edged with mirth. Spamton froze, realising he had been pressing his hands into the feathers in an alternating fashion, without even being aware of what he was doing.

“N-no!” he exclaimed while quickly withdrawing his hands, though he was shocked with how softly but clearly the word came out of his mouth, despite the stutter. He turned to look at Swatch, raising a ball jointed hand to his mouth in surprise.

“Heh, sure,” Swatch said sarcastically, running their fingers gently through Spamton’s hair while smiling at him. Spamton sighed, leaning into the touch, eyelids half closing, allowing his hands to fall limply back into his lap.

“Feel better?” Swatch asked gently as they massaged Spamton’s head. Spamton nodded very slowly.

“Thank you…” he stiffened again at how normal his own voice sounded, eyes opening fully again.

“Sorry about your nightmares,” Swatch said sympathetically, brows drawing together. “But I’ll always be here if you want to talk about them, or just comfort you if you don’t.”

Spamton took in a deep breath and nodded appreciatively, even though there was a particular dissenting thought running through his head.

Will you though?

Chapter Text

Despite his hopes, Spamton knew the calls were not going to stop coming. They never had while he had lived in the dumpster, he had simply gotten used to blocking the sound out of his mind. And besides, they hadn’t bothered him as much at his lowest point, when he had nothing left to lose anyway. But now he had everything to lose, and he was becoming increasingly terrified.

It wasn’t that he thought Swatch would just leave him, he felt the bird’s feelings towards him were genuine, despite his troubles in believing them at first. Spamton was worried the bird would be forcefully ripped away from him somehow, or something terrible would happen to them.

When Spamton had refused to help the voice on the phone before, his life had crumbled before his eyes, and now he was becoming increasingly paranoid that it would happen all over again. Spamton didn’t care if this world was fake, he no longer sought freedom or heaven, he just wanted to hold on to what he had at the moment.

Swatch couldn’t protect him from this. Spamton’s options were limited. So, he decided to go talk to the only other darkener who knew what was going on. He didn’t have much hope he could help, but Spamton didn’t know what else to do.

One-night Spamton purposefully slept away from Swatch on the mattress rather than cuddled up close like usual. As they had been going to sleep Swatch had tried to pull the puppet close a few times, but Spamton had kept pulling away. Swatch appeared to be rather wounded by this behaviour, eventually giving up and turning away from Spamton to sleep on their other side.

Spamton felt a little bad about it, as he wasn’t doing it because he didn’t want to be cuddled, but because he wanted to be able to sneak out of the bed once Swatch was asleep without waking the bird, and that would be more difficult if he was being held.

Once a few hours had passed Spamton slowly crawled out of the bed, the advantage of being so small was he barely made any impression on the mattress while moving across it. He silently climbed down onto the floor, before grabbing his clothes and quickly changing back into them, keeping an eye on Swatch’s sleeping form at all times, an excuse if he got caught already prepared.

But Swatch did not stir as Spamton quietly crept out of the room, the door having been left ajar for him as always so he wouldn’t be trapped in there. He wriggled out of the cat flap and set off down the silent night street, which was dimly lit by the lights that hung over the town as well as the streetlamps.

It took Spamton a while to get to his destination on his short little legs, making him realise that he took Swatch shoulder transportation for granted. The streets were empty at this hour, though he thought he kept seeing shadows moving out of the corners of his eyes. He quickened his pace whenever this happened, struggling to keep his fear under control.

Spamton approached the tent like shop, pulling open the flap like door and slowly stepping inside. The interior was still dimly lit by the ever-burning lanterns even at this hour. It seemed otherwise empty though, just flickering shadows dancing on the walls. Spamton took a few more cautious steps inside and wondered if he had made a mistake to try and come at this time, even though there were no other opportunities he could think of to get away from Swatch unnoticed.

Suddenly Spamton was startled out his wits as a figure dropped down in front of him from above, causing him to let out a sharp shriek. The imp hanging upside down in the air in front of him quickly reached out a mitted hand and pressed it over Spamton’s mouth, stifling the scream.

“SHUSH SHUSH SPAMMY, DON’T WAKE THE KITTY!” Jevil said in a hushed sing song tone, giving the puppet a toothy upside-down smile.

Spamton pulled sharply away from the jester, scowling but nodding firmly. “SHALL WE [Walk and Talk] OUTSIDE TH3N?” he offered in the quietest tone his normal voice allowed.

Jevil nodded, turning himself right way up and following Spamton out through the door flap, onto the street. Spamton looked around, but there was still not a soul in sight. He gestured in a direction, before he started walking, Jevil floating along beside him.

“SO, WHAT’S UP, UP, PUPPET BOY?” the imp asked cheerily as they walked in a direction away from any houses.

“… HAS HE [[Contacted]] YOU AS WELL?” Spamton asked, side eyeing the clown.

Jevil was floating a foot off the ground, relaxing on his back as if he was laying on a surface, his hands behind his head and legs crossed. He nodded with a closed mouth smile; glowing yellow pupils locked onto Spamton.

Spamton slowed his stride, before stopping and turning towards the imp. “SO    ?”

“SO WHAT?” Jevil responded, grin looking slightly smug as he looked down at Spamton.

Spamton rolled his eyes. “WHAT DID YOU [[Say]] TO HIM?” he asked in an exasperated tone.

“OH, I TOLD HIM TO SHOVE IT, SHOVE IT!” the jester said before bursting into giggles, curling up on himself and hands moving to hold his stomach as he laughed.

“OH?” Spamton commented with some confusion. “BUT AREn’T YOU [Worried About Your Superannuation]?”

“WORRIED? ABOUT WHAT?” Jevil asked, looking slightly confused himself now. “THIS WORLD ISN’T REAL, REAL, WE BOTH KNOW THAT. NOTHING REALLY MATTERS!”

“OH? YOU THINK [You Have Nothing To Lose]??” Spamton said snappily, crossing his arms over his chest. “WHAT AB04T YOUR DEAR [Kitty Cat]??”

The grin fell from Jevil’s face, replaced by a look of concern. “WHAT ABOUT THEM?” he asked hesitantly, straightening up now.

Spamton shrugged, before shoving his hands in his pockets. “YOU WOULD;T W4NT TO [[Lose]] THEM, RIGHT? YOU KNOW THE KIND OF [[Power]] HE HAS RIGHT? AND YOU’D [Risk Assessment] [$!$$]ING HIM OFF?”

Jevil scowled and made a huffing noise. “I’M NOT SCARED, SCARED OF HIM,” he said, though not as confidently as usual.

“WELL I DON;T KNOW ABOUT YOU, BUT I DOn’T WANT TO [[Lost Everything In Online Gambling?]] AGAIN,” Spamton said firmly, his mouth drawn into a line. “SO, IF YOU H4VE ANY [Great Ideas] OF WHAT TO DO ABOUT HIM, [I’m All Ears].”

Jevil finally floated down to the ground and stood on his feet, looking thoughtful with the fingers of one hand gripping his round chin and eyes downcast. “WELL, WHAT IF YOU GAVE HIM WHAT HE WANTS, WANTS?”

Spamton sighed and rolled his eyes. “HOW, THOUGH? IF I COULDN’T GET IT WHEN I WAS [Neo] WHAT MAKES YOU THINK I HAVE ANY [Better Chance] NOW?” Spamton said dismissively. “BESIDES… THEY’RE JUST A KID…” he added in a softer tone, looking down at the ground.

When Spamton looked back up he saw that Jevil’s eyes were also downcast. “THEY BESTED ME TOO… IF BRUTE FORCE DOESN’T WORK, WORK, PERHAPS YOU NEED TO TRY SOMETHING ELSE,” he suggested, looking back up at Spamton again. “BE SNEAKY, AND FAST, FAST.”

Spamton raised a sceptical eyebrow at the imp. “WHAT [Precision Measurements] ARE YOU IMPLYING?”

Jevil held out one hand and an item popped into existence in it. It was a small, slightly curved knife with the handle coloured with a purple and green spiral. It resembled Jevil’s scythe. The clown held it out towards the puppet, staring at him intently.

Spamton reached out and took the knife, slowly turning it over in his hands to inspect it. He looked back up at Jevil with apprehension. “BUT… THEY’RE MY [[Friend Request Accepted]]…”

Jevil shrugged. “EVEN JUST TO PROTECT YOURSELF FROM HIM, HIM. YOU’RE NOT AS STRONG, STRONG AS ME.”

“No need to rub it in…” Spamton said quietly and was once again surprised when his voice came out normal for once. Jevil looked surprised as well but didn’t comment on it.

Spamton cleared his throat before speaking again. “[[Thank You]], I GUESS. I DIDn’T EVEN [Thinking About Investing In] YOU WOULD [Help] AT ALL.”

“BUT I LIKE, LIKE YOU SPAMMY,” Jevil said with what seemed like genuine puzzlement. “YOU SHOULD VISIT MORE OFTEN, WE CAN PLAY MORE GAMES, GAMES TOGETHER!”

“MAYBE I WILL… IF [Everything Half Price] WORKS OUT OKAY…” Spamton said with uncertainty, sighing and looking away.

They bid farewell to each other in a rather civil manner, Jevil taking back off into the air and flying back towards Seam’s shop while Spamton walked away back in the direction of home. Once again it was a not insignificant walk for him, so while he wandered through the town, he had plenty of time to ponder things.

When the person on the phone had first made the request of Spamton, at the height of his success, he had only refused because he had thought it was impossible to achieve. Lighteners never visited the dark world anyway; he had no way of even getting near one. But despite this the voice didn’t take kindly to his refusal and stopped giving him the advice he so desperately needed, leading to his downfall.

When Spamton had heard there was a lightener in the dark world he had sought them out for a ‘chance encounter’, and to his shame, actually attempted to take what the voice had asked for. But despite his desperation he wasn’t able to go through with it, they were just a kid after all. Plus, he still had his backup plan, and the lightener could help him with that.

And they did, but it still wasn’t enough to obtain freedom. So, Spamton had tried to take it from them again, seeing no other choice left except to fulfill his old benefactor’s request. But he had been bested in the kindest way by the kid and their friends.

Now once again though, he felt he had little options available to him, and the walls were closing in. What could he do to protect this meagre happiness he had somehow achieved against all odds, except what the imp had suggested?

Plus, when he was Neo he had realised that the soul didn’t even belong to Kris, they were a puppet of it, a puppet just like him. Maybe they would even appreciate Spamton taking the soul from them, freeing them? They tried to free him, should he not return the favour, as a good friend should?

As Spamton approached the house again he tucked the knife he had been worrying in his hands into a pocket. He quickly wiggled through the cat flap and into the house. He was startled when he looked up to see Swatch sitting on the couch in the living area, back hunched over and arms resting on their knees, tried looking eyes trained on the puppet.

“Where did you go?” Swatch asked softly, not moving at all.

“I- I- I COULDN’T [Sleep Better Now],” Spamton quickly stuttered out his prepared excuse that he had planned in advance of getting caught. He slowly approached the couch, looking up at the bird apprehensively. “SO, I TOOK A LITTLE WALK [Around Town].”

Swatch sighed and rested their chin in their hands. “Why didn’t you wake me?” they asked in a slightly sad tone.

“I DIDN;T WANT TO DISTURB YOUR REST… I CAN [Handle Stress] MYSELF,” Spamton said, glancing away.

“I would have preferred if you had, you made me a bit worried,” Swatch explained. “I was considering going to look for you.”

“NO, NO, NO NEED FOR THAT,” Spamton said quickly, before clambering up onto the couch and kneeling next to the bird. He placed his small hands on their thigh and sighed. “YOU DOn’T HAVE TO [Worried About Your] ME SO MUCH, I CAN [Take Care Of] MYSELF YOU KNOW?”

“Ah, sorry, can’t help it,” Swatch said apologetically, lifting their head out of their hands. “Guess I just care about you too much.” They smiled down at him gently.

Spamton returned the smile, and Swatch reached down and scooped him up, lifting him up to hold against their chest. Spamton relaxed into the embrace with a sigh, pressing his head against their chest and trying to push all other thoughts from his mind for a moment of peace.

Chapter Text

When Ralsei turned up in the café the next morning, Spamton had to try and push down his excitement. It was just one little question he wanted to ask after all, and Ralsei probably wouldn’t even know the answer anyway, he was just the darkener who was most likely to know. Spamton had to be ready for instant disappointment, he had to settle himself. He could be patient; he was well practiced at that afterall.

Ralsei approached the customer service counter and Swatch started the usual small talk with him. The bird and goat seemed to get along rather well when they interacted, all genuine smiles between them. If Swatch wasn’t such a shut away outside of work, they might have been quite good friends.

During the light conversation, Spamton built up the courage to pipe in from where he was sitting next to the coffee machine. “HEY, KID… [Did You Know] WHEN THE LIGHT >nERS ARE [Coming Back Into Town]?” he attempted to keep his tone as casual as possible.

Ralsei looked at the puppet with mild surprise, and then his expression turned contemplative as he pressed a clawed finger against his chin. “Sorry Spamton, I am not sure,” he said apologetically. “I hope soon, of course. Do you miss Kris?”

“Y-YEAH…” Spamton stammered out, glancing away nervously.

“Aw, that’s sweet, I didn’t realise you cared about them like that,” Ralsei said with a smile.

“WEREn’T YOU [Listen To This] WHEN I MADE THAT WHOLE [Motivational Speech] ABOUT LIVING FOR MY [Friend Request Accepted]??” Spamton pointed out, referring to when they had fought his neo form.

“Oh yeah. Well, don’t worry too much Spamton, I’m sure you will see them again soon,” Ralsei reassured.

Ralsei proceeded to make his order, but before he could pay, he suddenly froze up in place, his eyes widening.

“What’s the matter, young master Ralsei?” Swatch asked with some concern, as both they and Spamton watched the goat carefully.

“I think the lighteners are in trouble…” Ralsei breathed out suddenly. “Sorry, I need to go help them.” He turned his head to look at Spamton again for a moment. “Looks like you might get your wish sooner than you thought.” And with that comment he promptly turned and made for the door, leaving in a flourish of swirling green robes.

Spamton felt a surge of emotion in his chest, but he wasn’t quite able to describe what it was. Excitement? No, he wasn’t keen to enact his plan. Hope? Perhaps, though it was hesitant, considering what he had to do. He attempted to maintain a calm demeanour though, as to not alert Swatch to anything being out of the ordinary.

Spamton shoved his hand into his pocket, touching the blade he had hidden in there with his plastic fingers, seeking any sort of reassurance from it, though there was none to be found. Touching the weapon only made him feel hollow, empty. He removed his hand again, sighing as the tension built in his stomach.

“You okay there Spammy?” Swatch’s voice snapped Spamton out of his thoughts, causing the puppet to whip his head around to look up at the bird.

“HUH? YEAH, I;M FINE,” Spamton said dismissively, giving Swatch a fake grin.

Spamton was fidgety for the rest of the day. Surely Swatch noticed, but apart from a few gentle enquiries to the puppet’s wellbeing, which were swiftly dismissed, they simply watched him with concern, glancing at the café phone nervously every now and then.

Towards the end of the day, a Swatchling came hurrying into the café, looking rather excited.

“They’re here! The lighteners are back, and they brought a whole bunch of new darkeners with them!” the Swatchling exclaimed enthusiastically. The other Swatchlings around the café let out a chorus of soft yet tender screams.

It felt like a bolt of electricity had run up Spamton’s spine, his whole body tensing up. Swatch glanced at him with a questioning look.

“Hey, why don’t you run off and see your friend, I’ll finish up here?” Swatch offered gently, now smiling down at the puppet in reassurance.

Spamton was surprised at the offer, which left him reeling for a moment. “…T-THANKS [Pretty Bird]!!” he stuttered out appreciatively. He stepped onto an offered wing, and Swatch lifted him up to give him a peck on the head before setting him down on the floor. Spamton blushed slightly, waved to the bird before running off towards the door, a Swatchling holding it open for him so he could step through without struggling to push it open.

Once out on the street Spamton started to hurry towards the town entrance and could see other darkeners stepping out onto the streets to see what was happening as well, some of them also heading in the same direction to greet the newcomers.

Spamton stopped when he reached the edge of the town, looking out towards the place where the light that delivered the lighteners to and from the dark world was, several other darkeners also gathering around. A bunch of new, strange darkeners were walking towards the town, looking around their new surroundings with mild awe and confusion. There were small points of light falling from the sky all around, which when they hit the ground they turned into more new darkeners.

The established residents greeted the newcomers warmly as they wandered into the town. Chatter started to fill the air, and the old residents started ushing the new ones into the town, showing them around. The small puppet was easily overlooked by everyone. Eventually Spamton was left standing alone staring at the light while everyone else moved away.

Three silhouettes stood under the light now, though they soon started moving towards the town as well. Spamton could soon see the leader was Kris, their long blue bangs brushing over their face and red half cape billowing behind them as they strode purposefully towards the town.

A short distance from Spamton, Kris stopped suddenly in place, Ralsei and Susie coming to a more awkward halt around them as if they hadn’t been expecting such a sudden stop. The two of them cocked their head questioning at their leader, who seemed to be staring straight ahead of themself at Spamton, though it was hard to tell with their eyes obscured.

After a pause, Kris suddenly rushed forward at an alarming speed, running straight at Spamton. The puppet flinched slightly, while Kris dropped to their knees and skidded to a halt in front of him. They quickly reached out an enveloped Spamton in a hug, bending over his small form.

Spamton stiffened up in surprise, his shoulders hunching as Kris held him. His legs suddenly felt weak underneath him, and he too fell to his knees. Spamton’s hand was thrust deep in his pocket, tightly gripping the hilt of the knife. He felt his body start to shake slightly, tension balling in his guts again.

Here it was, the perfect chance. The soul was right here in front of Spamton, he hadn’t even needed to try to get near Kris, the kid had positioned themself perfectly. It would be so easy now, to take it, while the lightener had their guard down. It seemed the imp had been right, about subtly over brute force. Spamton’s arm trembled as he tried to pull his hand and the knife out of his pocket, ready to thrust it forward and upwards.

But he couldn’t move his arm, it felt locked in place. How could the kid trust him so much after he had tried to hurt them and their friends? What had he even done to deserve this sudden affection they were thrusting upon him? Could he really be this quick to betray them again for his own selfish gains?

No, he had to remember, it was the soul that was probably making them do this. The treacherous little heart-shaped object that pulled its human puppet this way and that on a whim. Kris probably craved the freedom from it, the freedom Spamton could easily give them right now, if he simply had the resolve to.

Spamton swiftly pulled the blade out and held it upwards, pressing the tip against the vulnerable part of Kris’ chest, above the armour plating. The lightener stiffened up as they felt the sharp tip pressing into their clothing. The lifted their head up, looking down at Spamton between their bangs. Spamton could actually see their piercing red eyes and saw something in them he hadn’t been expecting or prepared for: fear.

Spamton also froze, staring up at Kris with wide eyes, arm locked in place. He saw another emotion join the fear in Kris’s red eyes: hurt. Spamton felt his throat tightening, the tension in his body growing by the second. Then his arm began to shake, while tears formed in his eyes.

Spamton relaxed his grip on the knife, which clattered to the pavement, the sound reverberating in his head. His hand reached up and grabbed a fistful of Kris’s clothing instead, bowing his head as he started to sob, tears forming quickly.

“I’M SORRY I;M SORRY I’M SORRY,” Spamton repeated desperately as he cried.

Kris seemed to untense their body, and soon Spamton felt a hand gently patting him on the back. Spamton looked up again with confusion, and saw a few tears running down Kris’s cheeks as well from watery red eyes. Then Spamton heard footsteps hurrying over to where the pair of them knelt crying together.

“Kris, are you okay?” Ralsei asked with concern, bending down towards them.

Kris quickly pulled out of hugging Spamton, looking up at Ralsei and nodding while quickly dashing tears from their eyes. Spamton noticed them quickly reach out with their other hand to pull the knife up against their knees to hide it somewhat.

“Hey, what the hell Kris, isn’t this the weird puppet that literally tried to kill you?” Susie snapped heatedly, glaring at Spamton and slightly baring her massive sharp teeth.

“Chill out Susie,” Kris said in their characteristic very soft voice, shooting the monster a glare. Susie scowled at her friend, before crossing her arms over her chest and huffing.

Kris turned back to Spamton, looking down at the sniffling puppet with concern. “What’s going on, Spamton?” they asked very softly, their voice more of a breath than a tone. Spamton just shook his head while rubbing the tears from his eyes.

“Spamton?” a different, familiar voice called out from behind him, causing Spamton to turn around. He saw Swatch standing a short distance away, eyes on the small group of lighteners and darkeners. When they saw Spamton’s tear stained face their own expression switched to great concern, and the bird hurried over towards them.

Swatch quickly bent down to scoop Spamton up into their arms, holding him close to their chest as they straightened up again. They looked down at him as he relaxed into their wing, and then they turned the attention to the group of children.

“My apologies young masters, but what is going on here?” Swatch asked, slightly anxiety edging their tone.

Kris got to their feet then stepped forward towards Swatch, holding their clenched hand towards them as if offering something. Confusion marked Swatch’s face, though they held their free wing out towards the lightener. Kris pressed the knife down flat into Swatch’s wing, before curling up the bird’s fingers to cover the weapon.

Kris motioned to the tall bird to lean down towards them, which Swatch obliged in doing so. Kris leaned up and whispered something to the bird, before pulling away again. They then looked over their shoulder at their friends, beckoning them to follow, before stepping around Swatch and heading off into town. Ralsei and Susie followed behind them, glancing at the bird and puppet as they went past.

Spamton saw Swatch turning their head down towards him, so buried his face against their chest to hide from their questioning gaze.

Chapter Text

Swatch hurried back to the café because it was closer than home, cradling the puppet against their chest. Spamton was completely quiet the whole way, not moving at all. Swatch had slid the knife Kris had handed to them into one of their pockets, and quickly fished out their keys to open the door they had locked only minutes ago after closing up and sending the Swatchlings home.

Once inside, Swatch stepped over to the customer service counter, and carefully placed Spamton down on top of it in a sitting position. The puppet kept his head down, refusing to look up at the bird. Swatch’s wings hovered around Spamton, not sure if they should touch him or withdraw at the moment.

Suddenly Swatch pulled themself away, walking over to a table to grab a chair, carrying it back over to the counter and setting it down in front of Spamton before taking a seat. This put the little puppet at eye level to them.

“Spamton,” Swatch said firmly, staring at the puppet. Spamton was seated with his back hunched over and face turned down to the countertop, eyes downcast. “Spamton,” Swatch repeated firmly, trying to make sure they had his attention. Spamton raised his head slightly, enough to peek up at Swatch apprehensively for a moment.

“Enough of this Spamton,” they finally decided to continue. “You are going to tell me, right now, what the hell is going on.” Their voice maintained a very stern tone that allowed no argument.

“IT’S… NOTHING…” Spamton said softly, glancing down again.

“This whole time I have not believed that lie for a moment,” Swatch pointed out, starting to scowl. Spamton shrugged but made no other attempts at a response.

“Do you know what Kris whispered to me, Spamton?” Swatch asked, which caused the puppet to look back up at them again hesitantly. “They said that you tried to kill them again!” Spamton visibly flinched at that, looking away guiltily. “So, you are going to tell me. What is happening. Now.” the last part came out almost like a growl.

Spamton practically squirmed under Swatch’s piercing gaze, looking around nervously. His eyes eventually landed on the café phone and he sighed, shoulders sagging.

“HE IS A [[Very Powerful]] MAN…” Spamton began in a smaller voice than usual. “[Offered] ME [[Success, Fame, Fortune]]. SO… I DID WHAT HE TOLD ME TO DO.”

Spamton turned his gaze back on Swatch again. “UNTIL… HE ASKED FOR [A Little Something] THAT I THOUGHT WAS IMPOSSIBLE TO GET.”

“What… was it…?” Swatch slowly asked as Spamton paused, though they had a feeling they already knew.

“A LIGHT >nER’S [[HeartShapedObject]],” Spamton confirmed what Swatch had been thinking, the little puppet now worrying his hands in his lap. “WHEN I SAID [[No Deal]] HE TOOK EVERYTHING AWAY. THOUGH, HE NEVER STOPPED [Calling], ASKING FOR IT.”

“BY THE TIME THE LIGHT nER SHOWED UP, I WAS [Desperate]. I TRIED TO [Take] IT. BUT I COULDN’T, NOT THAT [Time], NOT THIS [Time],” Spamton explained sullenly.

“What stopped you…?” Swatch couldn’t help but ask, wanting to understand Spamton’s motivations better.

“BECAUSE… THEY’RE JUST A [Kid]. I;M… I’M NOT THAT [Evil]… I… I [Hope] I’M NOT…” Spamton’s voice was wavering now, and he reached up a fist to rub his eye, bumping up his glasses.

“Of course you’re not evil Spamton!” Swatch exclaimed, and quickly reached out to pick up the puppet again, setting him down on their lap. They pushed his glasses back up onto his hair and started wiping his tearing eyes with their fingers. “You must have been truly desperate to go this far… that’s just what I am trying to understand. What pushed you to do it this time? I thought you were… happy…”

Spamton sniffled and sighed. “IF HE IS [Calling] AGAIN, IT MEANS HE IS [Asking For It] AGAIN. I KNOW IF I DON’T [Get It] FOR HIM, HE’LL [Take Everything] AWAY FROM ME, JUST LIKE BEFORE,” Spamton explained grimly.

“Did you actually speak to him on the phone? Did he threaten you?” Swatch asked with concern.

“WELL… NOT EXACTLY…” Spamton mumbled evasively.

“Then what made you think like this?” Swatch pushed.

“HE… CAME TO ME IN A [Dream]… WELL… A NIGHTMARE…” Spamton said softly.

“Huh?” Swatch said incredulously. “All this, over a dream?”

“HE SAID EVERYTHING WOULD TURN TO [Dust] IF I DIDn’T DO WHAT HE [Wanted]…”

“No, Spamton… your mind said that. People can’t actually enter your dreams, I don’t care how powerful they might be,” Swatch stated firmly. “That was just your own worries haunting you as you slept.”

“WELL, I KNOW IF I [Talked To] HIM THAT IS PROBABLY WHAT HE WOULD SAY, SO IT MIGHT AS WELL HAVE BEEN [[Real]],” Spamton contended.

“Spamton… everything isn’t going to be taken away from you. I’m not going anywhere, that’s for sure,” Swatch insisted, now stroking the puppet’s back.

“NOT EVEN… AFTER WHAT I JUST TRIED TO DO?” Spamton looked up at Swatch with sad, moist eyes.

“I’m not that mad, more worried than anything,” Swatch admitted. “And I’m just glad that you didn’t go through with it. In fact, you actually showed you are a good person. Even though you were so desperate, even though you saw no other way, you’d rather lose everything than hurt someone else.”

“W-WELL… THEY ARE MY [Friend Request Accepted],” Spamton sniffled, mouth turning up in a small, melancholy smile.

“Seems like they care about you too Spamton… they didn’t even seem that mad about it,” Swatch pointed out.

Spamton let out a long exhale. “I DOn’T [Know What To Do In Case Of A] NOW… I’M STILL… WORRIED…”

“Well… you could always answer the phone,” as Swatch began that sentence, they saw Spamton’s eyes widen in fear, “AND tell him that you won’t be taking his deal, now or ever. Maybe if you sound serious enough, he will give up?”

“SEEMS A BIT… [Wishful Thinking]…” Spamton said dubiously.

“You got any better plans that don’t involve murdering children?” Swatch asked pointedly.

“…NO…” Spamton admitted sombrely.

“Then… if you are up for it… I assume it wouldn’t hurt to just try,” Swatch offered.

Spamton seemed to be wrestling with the idea for a moment, emotions battle across his face, before sighing in defeat. “OKAY… I GUESS YOU ARE RIGHT…”

Swatch got to their feet, placing the puppet back up on the counter next to the phone. Spamton looked up at the device hanging on the wall nervously, and Swatch gave him a comforting pat on the back.

“I’ll have to leave the room for it to work, probably, but I’ll just be in the kitchen, so you can yell for me at the first sign of any trouble,” they explained reassuringly.

Spamton nodded up at them, his face tense with anxiety. Swatch leaned down to give him a peck on the cheek, before moving away and heading into the kitchen. They watched back through the pass-through hole between the kitchen and service area. Spamton was staring up at the phone, waiting.

Sure enough, it started ringing, which seemed to make Spamton almost jump. The puppet quickly reached up and grabbed the receiver, hands shaking slightly as he held it up to his ear. He didn’t say anything at first, appeared to be listening to the person on the other end of the line. Swatch frowned as they watched.

“LOOK HERE [Buddy], I;M ONLY GONNA [Tell It To Ya] ONCE. I’M [Not Interested] IN YOUR [Deal], AND I NEVER EVER WILL BE,” Spamton said in such a firm and serious tone that Swatch was surprised at, as he had just seemed like an anxious mess before. “THERE IS [No Way] I AM HURTING MY [Friend] FOR YOU. SO, I [Kindly Ask] THAT YOU TAKE YOUR [[Deal]], AND SHOVE IT!!!”

Ah… always had such an eloquent way with words, that Spamton.

Swatch came out of the kitchen and walked over towards Spamton, since it didn’t matter if the person he was talking to hung up now, the puppet had got to say what he wanted to. Swatch was a bit shocked however, when the voice came out of the receiver loud enough for them to hear.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Mr Spamton. I thought we made fine business partners,” the strange, distorted voice said in an emotionless tone. “But no matter, if you won’t get it for me, I’ll just find another.”

Suddenly, the whole room went dark, as if all the light had been sucked out of the café for a moment. A moment later the room filled again with the dim light coming through the windows from outside, while Swatch glanced around in confusion. Their eyes came to rest on Spamton, who was now facing them. Green strings rose from his body upwards, disappearing into the ceiling. His eyes were full of static.

“Spamton!” Swatch cried out in dismay, stumbling the few steps over to the counter while staring at the puppet. They stopped and reached out towards him, but hesitated. His arms were making jerky movements as they were tugged on by the strings.

“SWATCH!” Spamton’s mouth opened and the voice that poured from it was incredibly distorted and glitchy, more so than usual. And deeper as well, as if it wasn’t actually his voice. “YOU’RE A NICE STRONG LAD. IS THE LIGHTENER STILL IN TOWN? GET ME THE SOUL, AND I WILL LET YOU HAVE YOUR LITTLE PUPPET BACK.”

“No… no no no… what have you done to him?” Swatch’s hands hovered around the puppet, who was grinning up gleefully at them.

“EAHAEHAEHAEHAEH!!!” Spamton simply laughed, his head yanked back by a string as he did so.

“Please… stop! Let him go!” Swatch begged, grabbing the puppet, and shaking him gently as he continued to laugh manically. “Spamton, come back to me!” Swatch felt tears pricking the corners of their eyes.

“YOU WANT HIM BACK? GO GET THE SOUL THEN, [Pretty Bird]!” the voice said through Spamton, his body being jerked around in Swatch wings by the attached strings.

“No! I’m not going to do that!” Swatch shook their head vehemently.

“DO YOU NEED MORE MOTIVATION?” the voice asked, and then Spamton suddenly stopped moving, though the strings were still pulled tight. Suddenly the static cleared from the puppet’s eyes, and he blinked up at Swatch in confusion, the false smile gone.

“SWATCH?” Spamton asked in a small, terrified voice, his eyes flicking to the strings attached to his arms. “W-WHAT’S HAPPENING?”

“Spamton! It’s okay, I got you,” Swatch tried to reassure as they pulled the puppet close to them.

“I’M… SCARED…” Spamton choked out, trembling in Swatch’s embrace.

“Don’t worry Spammy… I’ll get you out of this…” Swatch said, even though they were not sure how they were going to accomplish that. Holding Spamton out in front of them again they started inspecting how a string was attached to his wrist. It wasn’t wrapped around or anything, it seemed to be coming out of the plastic. Swatch tried holding Spamton’s hand in place and tugging on it, but that achieved nothing.

“HAEAHAEAHAEAHAEAH!!” the laughter pouring from Spamton’s mouth again startled Swatch slightly and turning their gaze back on him they could see he was smiling once more, and his eyes had turned back to static. “DON’T EVEN TRY TO BREAK THESE STRINGS, IT WON’T WORK! UNLESS YOU HAD SOMETHING THAT COULD CUT THROUGH ANYTHING.”

“Anything…?” Swatch said very slowly, freezing in place. The personal motto of a certain imp echoed through their head.

Swatch released one of their wing’s grip on Spamton and reached down into their pocket. They grasped at the small blade Kris had handed to them, pulling it from their pocket and lifting it up in front of them to study it for a moment.

They held the knife blade up against one of the green strings, right above where it attached to Spamton’s wrist, and slid it across.

Chapter Text

The blade slid across the green string smoothly, slicing through the fibres until it snapped. Swatch let out a short huff of air from the breath they had been holding, their eyes lighting up. It had worked! They quickly grabbed the next string, pressing the knife against it.

“NO, NO NO YOU CAN’T DO THAT!” Spamton loudly protested in the strange voice that was not quite his own. He tried to pull away from the bird’s grip, but Swatch held on firmly, quickly slicing that next string.

“STOP! YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU ARE DOING!” Spamton yelled, struggling harder now as Swatch proceeded with cutting the numerous strings, his little hands pushing against the bird’s large wings.

“SWATCH, PLEASE, IT HURTS!” That made Swatch take pause for a moment, turning their gaze on the puppet’s eyes. They were still filled with static.

“Hrmph. Try every trick you want, but I won’t stop until I have freed him from your control,” Swatch said firmly as they continued to cut more of the strings.

Spamton suddenly stopped struggling for a moment. “HOW DO YOU KNOW HE WILL BE OKAY AFTER YOU CUT THE FINAL STRING?” he asked flatly, staring straight at Swatch.

Swatch hesitated for a moment, feeling a lump suddenly grow in their throat. “He’ll… be okay… I know he will be,” they said, trying to keep any wavering out of their voice. They had to keep going, had to believe it would all turn out okay. They had no other choice.

Swatch pressed the knife against the final string which was attached to Spamton’s head. They swallowed deeply, before slicing the blade across it.

Spamton fell limply against their wing.

Swatch dropped the knife onto the table and placed his other wing against Spamton as well to cradle the puppet. Swatch titled his head backwards to look at his face. His eyes had gone black now, and not a single part of him was moving.

“Spamton?” Swatch called in a small, strained voice, staring down at the lifeless puppet with distress. When there was no response, they shook his tiny body very gently.

“Please, Spamton… love… please be okay…” Swatch started begging, feeling tears welling in their eyes. There was no response.

Suddenly Swatch came enough to their senses to press the side of their head down gently against his chest. Relief washed over them when they felt shallow breathing and heard a heartbeat.

Swatch let out a massive sigh of relief, punctuated by a choked sob, and drew the unconscious puppet up close to their chest, hugging him tightly. Swatch muttered thanks to the universe as their body shuddered with sobs while gently squeezing their partner.

After a few moments they stepped backwards and took a seat on the chair they had left near the counter. They laid Spamton out in their lap, looking him over with concern. It seemed while they had been holding him his eyes had closed and his breathing was more noticeable now.

Swatch started to gently caress Spamton’s face with their wingtips, cooing softly as they did so. Soon, the puppet’s eyes slowly blinked open, and he looked up blearily at the bird.

“Hey, love,” Swatch said in the softest tone, smiling down at their beloved.

Spamton squeezed his eyes open and closed a bit, before opening his mouth. “Swatch? What happened?” he asked in a very normal sounding voice, which actually sounded weird coming from him.

Swatch shook their head. “It doesn’t matter dear, what’s important is that you are okay,” they tried to keep their voice from cracking with emotion as they spoke, continuing to stroke Spamton’s face.

They both suddenly tensed up when they heard a crackling sound coming from the phone receiver which had been discarded on the countertop.

The distorted voice wafted from the receiver. “Useless, the both of you.” Then the dial tone sounded, indicating the line had gone dead.

Swatch quickly drew Spamton up into their wings again, holding him protectively against their chest. The puppet shivered slightly in the embrace.

“Don’t worry, Spam… I will never let him hurt you,” Swatch said firmly, running their fingers down the puppet’s back.

They did feel slight concern when they felt the ends of the strings still poking through his clothing. Swatch slipped a wing up under Spamton’s jacket and shirt, running it across his bare skin. Their fingers brushed across the remnants of strings which still seemed to be sunk into his body. They tugged gently on one, which sent a spasm through the puppet’s body.

“What the [$!$!]?” Spamton said weakly, squirming slightly in Swatch’s grip.

Swatch let out a concerned sigh, rubbing Spamton’s back again comfortingly. They didn’t know what to say though to reassure him.

“Come on… let’s get out of here…” they said softly, rising to their feet while still holding the puppet against their chest. They carried him out of the café, awkwardly locking the door behind them, before setting off towards home.

Swatch looked down at where Spamton was cradled in their arms, and saw he had his eyes fixated on a bit of string coming out of his hand, tugging on it gently.

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Spamton absent-mindedly picked at the small bit of green string which protruded from the back of his hand. He shuffled slightly in his seated position on the Swatchling’s lap, the bird’s wings resting against his small body. Around him the other birds chatted away cheerily. They were all sitting on the carpet in various positions, surrounding the monopoly board.

The Swatchling Spamton was seated on was playing on his behalf (as the car piece, of course), as he was rather too disassociated to pay proper attention to what was going on with the game or conversation. Every now and then one of the birds would throw him a concerned glance, but for the most part they seemed to be trying to keep up the pretence of everything being okay.

Swatch hadn’t told them anything when they had dropped Spamton off to be taken care of, just a very serious warning to protect the puppet at all costs. Of course, the bits of green string poking out of his body had not escaped the Swatchlings attention, but after Spamton had not responded to their initial enquiry about them, they had not attempted any further questioning.

The game was an attempt to cheer him up, of course. Spamton appreciated the effort, of course, but he couldn’t bring himself to participate properly. His mind was elsewhere, as he anxiously awaited Swatch’s return. After everything that had happened Spamton couldn’t help but feel worried about his partner’s safety and wellbeing, though of course there was little he could do to protect them.

His weakness continued to frustrate him. Once again, he hadn’t been able to do anything against the (for want of a better term) cruel strings of fate that pulled him along. Now, even though the strings had been cut, they still literally clung to him, a constant reminder of his powerlessness.

Spamton breathed deeply, trying to squash his emotions which were threatening to bubble to the surface again. He didn’t want to cry in front of the Swatchlings. He didn’t want to keep showing the world how weak he was.

Looking up at the group, Spamton realised it was already too late, as all the birds had their heads turned to look at him with concern. He realised a tear had slipped from his eye and was travelling down his cheek.

The wings against Spamton suddenly tightened their grip, and he was lifted from the lap and into the air, causing him to let out an indigent squeak. All the birds were shuffling across the floor towards him. The one holding him was already pressing their beak into his hair.

Soon Spamton was surrounded by the massive avians, bodies pressing together as they all reached forward and started nuzzling him. A laugh escaped Spamton as the beaks pressed against his tiny body, tickling him through his clothing. He desperately tried to push their faces away with his little hands, but it wasn’t like his strength could match that of a bunch of nine-foot-tall birds. He was completely at their mercy.

“PLEASE, [Valued Customers], THIS ISN’T NESSESARY!” Spamton protested through giggles, his face flushing red.

“Go easy on him there everyone,” a soft voice called out from across the room. The birds ceased their assault and turned their heads together to look over at their leader. The birds let out gentle cries of greeting as they moved away from Spamton while Swatch walked over towards the one holding the puppet.

“SAVE ME, SWATCHY!” Spamton pleaded, reaching up towards them. Swatch chuckled and leaned down to pluck Spamton out of the Swatchlings wings, lifting him up towards their face. Then they proceeded to start nuzzling him as well.

“NO! BETRAYAL!” Spamton exclaimed in a light-hearted fashion, struggling again weakly in Swatch’s grasp. Swatch’s smile only grew, and they nuzzled him more. Spamton glanced down at the seated Swatchlings, and noticing they were all watching only increased his embarrassment.

Swatch stopped and pulled away, smirking down at the puppet, before turning their attention to the Swatchlings. “Thanks for taking care of him,” they said, which was responded to with a chorus of chirps.

“Will you be staying for dinner, boss?” one of the Swatchlings asked, looking up at them hopefully.

“Sure, sounds great,” Swatch said with a grin. That was met by a chorus of soft yet tender screams, and the Swatchlings quickly set to packing away the game and heading off into the kitchen. Swatch carried Spamton over to a chair and took a seat, sitting the puppet down in their lap but keeping a hold on him with their wings.

“How are you feeling, love?” Swatch asked in the gentlest of tones, looking down at him now with concern.

Spamton started picking at the string again. “TIRED…” was all he could really manage to say.

Swatch started to rub his back like usual. “I told Ralsei and the lighteners what happened,” they started hesitantly. “They said they were aware that someone is going through dark world’s and trying to corrupt darkeners… like you and Jevil… they found another one on their most recent adventure.”

Spamton continued to pick at the string as he listened to Swatch.

“They are going to do what they can to stop him. Thought they said not to worry, as he has probably moved onto the next one now… and after what happened probably won’t bother us again. Though if he does, we should go straight to Ralsei,” they continued to explain. “Hey, stop that.” They grabbed his wrist with two fingers, pulling his hand away from his other.

Spamton sighed deeply and proceeded to lean heavily against the bird, looking up at their face.

“Should I cut them back more?” Swatch asked carefully with a questioning gaze.

Spamton shook his head. “IT… HURT SO MUCH WHEN YOU [Prices Cut] THEM…” he said in a strained tone, looking away.

Swatch’s eyes went wide at that revelation. “Oh god… Spamton… I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean to hurt you,” they apologised quickly and anxiously.

Spamton waved a hand dismissively. “YOU DID WHAT YOU HAD TO, AND IT [Saved] ME. I COULDN’T [Hold] IT AGAINST YOU, BIRDY,” he reassured, giving them a partially forced smile.

“I’m just so glad you are okay,” Swatch said, leaning down to nuzzle Spamton gently. “You’re safe now… please believe me.”

“DO YOU REALLY [Believe] THAT YO URSELF?” Spamton asked apprehensively, automatically trying to pull his hands together to fidget but Swatch was holding them apart still.

Swatch nodded. “I have to,” they said simply. “As long as we are together, we’ll be okay.”

“SWATCH…” Spamton quickly yanked a hand out of the bird’s grip and reached it up to touch Swatch’s pale face. “YOU ARE… [[The Best Thing]] THAT HAS [Ever] HAPPENED TO ME. I [[Love]] [[Love]] YOU.”

Swatch smiled, though they looked as though they were about to cry at the same time. “I love love you too Spammy. I will always be with you, I promise.” They pressed the tip of their beak against the puppet’s cheek again. “Whatever happens… we’ll get through it together.”

There was the sound of someone clearing their throat, and Swatch and Spamton looked up to see a Swatchling standing in the doorway, watching them. The white faces of the other Swatchlings were peeking around the doorframe as well.

“Dinner is ready boss,” the Swatchling announced, trying to keep a straight face.

Spamton blushed, and Swatch smiled, getting to their feet and carrying Spamton over towards the door where their family were grinning at them.

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Closing time, every new beginning

Comes from some other beginning's end