Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Spamton’s head is spinning.

Nausea so strong it fills his chest and limbs. There’s a ringing sounding through his brain. Not like a phone ringing, but like the piercing sound of a tuning fork. Was he dying? Is he already dead? He doesn’t try to move for a while. The dizziness turns into pins and needles, like static, filling up his body. He feels like he’s falling although he’s sure he’s on solid ground. 

Spamton peels his eyes open, but there’s nothing to see. Just an endless void surrounding him. Shaking, his eyes dart back and forth. He blinks furiously, trying to clear the darkness from his view and the fogginess from his mind. Shapes start to form, his eyes finally adjusting. He forces himself to sit up and exhales a harsh static noise.

Panic subsiding just a little, he realizes he’s in someone’s bedroom. The panic and confusion return, and he hurriedly scans the room for the nearest exit only to find a floating square of ghostly silver light. No… a window. Curiosity numbs his adrenaline as he takes a wobbly step closer. 

He doesn’t remember any part of Cyber City with a light as gentle and faint as that. His brow furrows more as he notices he can’t even make out the neon green grid that normally covers Cyber World’s sky. He must be far out in the Cyber Fields he concludes. 

With his dizziness dissipated, he spots a door behind him and starts to make a getaway, turning to peek at the window one more time. Until, his foot catches on a rug and he face plants on the ground, painfully bending his long nose up.

“.<YE 0UCH[[!$*¡]] \s$HSHksh..!!!” He slams his jaw shut, silencing the noise in a bit-crushed hiss as he slowly gets up again.

Freezing in place, he hears a shuffling of fabric from a second bed to his left he failed to notice. 

There’s… someone there! He’s about to book it, not willing to be questioned why or how he was in this darkner’s room when he had no idea himself. A figure sits up. A familiar messy bob with bangs that hang down like curtains is silhouetted in the dark. 

He squints, glasses reflecting the light from the window. “KRIS…?” 

The figure jumps at the sound of his voice and scrambles to reach over and switch on a lamp. Light fills the room, and Kris Dreemur finds themselves face to face with an impossibility. 

“KRIS!! IS IT REAL ilY YOU??” Spamton’s molded grin starts to stretch. “IT’S ME!! YOURE OLD P[rison Mate], SPAMTON G. SPAMTON !!!  [Little Sponge] YOU REALLY HAD ME [[Screaming for help]] THERE HAHA!” 

Dumbfounded, Kris rubs the sleep out of their eyes. “HEYY!  [Is that a new paint job?] [whatever happened to] YOUR [[Black and blue all over]]? AND [whatever happened to] WHAT’S WITH THE FACE? DID YOU HAUL ME OVER HERE FOR A [Free luxry getaway]? WHEN DID YOU START [Hit the Hay] IN CYBER MOTELS??? I COULD’V3 [[gift for you!]] A MUCH BETTER DEAL!! [don’t miss out on]-” The puppet’s mouth won’t stop flapping. 

Kris slowly stands from their bed, reaches out, and pokes Spamton’s pointy nose.

“OWHEY WHAT’$ [The Stages of Matter] WITH YOU!??! I JUST [[got this thing waxed!]]” He somehow scrunches his plastic face up and gingerly rubs his nose, still sore from the fall. His eyes snap back to Kris who is squatting to stare at him intently, their hand hovers above their knee, tempted to test his solidity again.

He was there. Existing out of the dark world. Kris remembers how he faded away, leaving only his iconic glasses and an icy feeling of hopelessness in their chained up soul. Until now. Kris wants to ask so many questions, but they can’t seem to find their voice.

Spamton backs up a little. “IT IT,S RUDE TO [[Window Shopping]] KRIS! QUIT YOUR [ogling] AND [Buy me] SOME 1NFORmATION! IF YOU DIVULEGE WHERE THE [#$&@] I AM, I WILL BE SURE TO COMPENSATE YOU AN [Rare Item] WHEN I GET BACK TO [squalor and filth],” 

Kris swallows a lump in their throat and speaks, voice hoarse despite almost never being used. “I thought you died.”

Spamton laughs. “[Dead or dying]?!? EHAHa…! KID, I EAT [Die] FOR BREAKFAST, ITs NO B/:^” A small glitch jumbles his features for a second and he cuts himself off, suddenly remembering something important.

“Oh 0H. WAIT A SEC OND.” He holds his hands up. “KRIS. YOU SAW. I WAS [The Smooth Taste]!!! AND YOU...  YOU [[Genorisity]], EVEN AFTER EVERY [SaVings Alert] I GAVE YOU I GAVE… YOU GAVE YOU HAVE THE [Dealmakers] BUT” He touches the frames of his round glasses and taps the lenses, making tv static blink over the colorful glass.

“I AM  N0T.. HOW IS..?” 

Kris lets out a breath they were holding. Spamton looks helplessly to them for answers.

“You… don’t know where you are?” 

Spamton taps his foot impatiently. “YES I THOUGHT I [Make it crystal clear], HELP YOUR OLD PAL OUT! SPILL [    wants to know your location] [Please confirm your address in the link within 24] SECONDS!!”

“This is my house. This is the Light World.”

Spamton’s permanent smile drops at the corners. “WH.   DON’T PULL MY L[strings] KID!! [No bullying in the server]! THAT CAN’T BE the [[Case by Case]] IITS STILL DA_RK” He rushes to the window, looking up and through the glass at a scenery of darkness. 

“SEE? NO LIGHT! NO [[Heaven]] NO [escape].” The cartoonish red blush on his prominent cheeks seem to disappear and his lenses go dark to match the sky. 

Kris picks up the digital alarm clock on their nightstand and holds it up to Spamton’s face. Red glowing numbers reflect 1:19am in his glasses.

“It’s nighttime, the sun will come up in like… six hours.” Kris yawns, and sits back on their bed.

“the [sun]…” Spamton says oddly quietly. 

Color returns to his face as he frantically darts to the side of Kris’s bed. “IS TH4T [How the sausage is made]. HOW IT WORKS??” 

“Uh huh.”

Spamton frowns to the best of his ability. “YOU’ RE SAYING THE [[HOLY LIGHT OF HEAVEN]] IS GONNA [Banish the darkness!] RIGHT THROUGH THAT WINDOW AND ALL I HAVE TO DO IS [please take a number]???” 

They nod. Spamton is silent. 

He looks back at the window, then back at Kris, searching for any signs of dishonesty. “WELL, I GUESS I’VE GOT [No where to run].”

Kris watches him wedge himself between their nightstand and their bed to push the nightstand under the window. After some effort, Spamton uses the drawers as steps and plants himself on top of it. He squints at the lamp’s light so close to him, and blindly reaches out to turn it off. Kris whispers something he can barely make out. 

He peeks at them from behind the lamp. “[[ come again]] KIDDO?” 

Kris clears their throat, “how… did you leave the dark world…?” 

“EAHAEH..! KRIS, AS [far as I] KNOW I’M STILL [[Help! Can anyone hear me?!]]” 

“You don’t believe me?” 

“…I WILLL FIGURE THAT OUT [in like… six hours.]” Kris winces, hearing a low quality playback of their own voice coming out of his mouth. 

Static suddenly shrouds Spamton’s spectacles. His painted blush and the corners of his smile go missing again and he curls into himself, squeezing his hands together. His voice leaks out of his throat, frantic underneath a drone of white noise.

“I hope you’re right please please be right just this once please please please be right let it be true let it be true let” 

Under their bangs, Kris’s brows furrow. “Maybe you should sleep, it will make the time move faster.” 

Spamton jerks up, tipping his head back in a manic laugh, as his lenses switch colors like Christmas lights. “YOU WANT ME TO [[/time set 0]]?! NO!!! I’M NOT GIVING UP MY [place in line] FOR [[Basic Needs]]. YOU [Sleepmode] IF YOU DESIRE, I’LL BE[[keep your eyes glued to the screen]]”

Kris stretches their lips into a doubtful grimace, then flops down on their pillow, already feeling their eyelids getting heavy. 

They mull over all the questions Spamton’s presence brought. He somehow pulled free… battered and broken, but far away from where he was supposed to be. Far away from the role he was made for. They are filled with… hope. 

They are also filled with anxiety. Where will he go now? He can’t stay in their house, can he? What will their Mom think? What will the town think? He doesn’t pass for a human, much less any type of monster they’ve ever seen. They doubt he’d go back to the Dark World willingly, If he could return at all. Will he eventually turn to stone without a dark fountain? They’d push him to Castle Town themselves if that ended up happening… Maybe he can live in the town’s shadowy alleyways like some kind of cryptid. They recall a kid’s movie their family used to have on dvd about toys who were secretly alive. Maybe they could get Spamton to agree to keeping still and quiet around everyone except for them. They doubt that too. They decide to tell Susie about this development tomorrow.

Spamton sits, facing the window. If the curtains weren’t there, it would have filled his whole view. With a hand on his chin, he takes a closer look outside. A totally unfamiliar view reveals itself, strange bushy shapes line the bottom, and a deep darkness fills the top. 

Staring into the sky with scrutiny, Spamton notices no grids, no skyscrapers, no ads flashing their neon lights, just one speck floating, sparkling. He sees another and another close by. Many sparkling specks! They sprinkle the sky. These must be stars… Although, he recalls the high road to Queen’s mansion sports stars as well. 

He presses his teeth together, tapping his chin with a finger. If he was near that area, then he should definitely be able to see the city, the teacup rides, or even some stray balloons carrying maice into the sky. Looking out into the horizon, he doesn’t see much. More bushy blobs and that ghostly light.

Spamton feels his heart flutter. Maybe… maybe this isn’t Cyber City, maybe not even Cyber World. It could just be a different Dark World… one with calmer scenery, and glittery skies.

He doesn’t dare leave Kris to go out and explore on his own. Poking around an unfamiliar place could prove to be perilous. Plus, puppets should stick together. If he wasn’t so [[!$@&]] after the Neo fight, maybe he could have convinced Kris to let him join their party?

He shakes the thought from his head and peeks at the alarm clock. 2:30am. Five hours left! He had waited longer for less. 

He leans towards the window again, accidentally pushing the tip of his nose to the glass. He jerks back, it’s cold! He gets a blank look on his face and presses his hand to the glass. It’s cold… why was it always cold. His head slowly turns to observe Kris, just a lump in their sheets. The thought of how warm they would be under those covers passes his mind. He couldn’t think of any reason for them to be lying, but he stops himself from believing them completely. If this was a nasty trick by Kris, they’d get a mouthful from him that’s for sure. 

A coo from outside snaps him out of his head, a few stray pixels jumping off him. 

What was that? Some freak wandering around making noises? He scans the darkness. It sounds again, in a rhythmic kind of pattern. 

Spamton wrings his hands together. All these differences have to mean something. Was this some sick limbo the universe sentenced him to? Or was he really, truly, finally free? At least his best friend customer was here with him… He hears the rhythmic whooping again, and he feels something he hasn’t felt since Kris brought him the empty disc: a spark of hope and excitement. 

He keeps his sights set on the sky, pleading with a silent prayer. 

Chapter Text

In a trickle, a hot glow seeps through the leaves, breaking the monotony of night. 

Spamton snaps to attention, leaning closer to the window. His eyes are blown wide and he starts to tremble. 

With celestial grace and the unstoppable slowness of a glacier, a golden color is lifted by curtains of orange, pink, and purple. More vivid than any [high quality 300dpi gradients] Spamton had ever seen. He doesn’t blink, afraid the slightest movement will break this heavenly vision.

Slowly, the yellow dissolves into a deep blue. Any confusion or trepidation he may have felt are completely submerged in pure awe. The sky must be loading, he thinks. 

An ethereal white announces the arrival of yet another. The anticipation has him pulling on his jaw, almost gnawing on his fingers. White dilutes the darkness of the blue, filling the sky with a familiar hue. With trembling hands he slowly removes his glasses. Spamton’s eyes start to water. 

The very same…! The same color he desperately clung to for so many years. A color he hoped, but never believed he would ever see again. A gentle light brings color to the trees, waking up the world. But it was only the overture to a grand finale, and he had front row seats. 

LIGHT… blinding, burning, crawls over the tree-line. Spamton takes in a rocky gasp and holds it. Golden beams of sunlight reach out to him. He pushes his face closer to the glass to meet them, comically bending his nose down. Touching the window with his hands and now his nose, the sun greets him with fiery warmth, seeping through the glass, into his skin, into his soul. 

A flood of tears breaks loose and he starts to sob, glitches tearing through him with every breath. He feels the hot burning pain in his eyes all over again, but doesn’t dare look away from the radiant, excruciating, rapture. If this was a dream, or a hallucination, he prays it never ends. He prays to live in this glorious light until all imperfections are burned away, and the delicious smoothness of shining sunbeams is all that remains.

At last the pain is too much, and his eyes are forced shut. He desperately tries to rub the tears away. Peeking out from his hands, he breathes out a laugh in relief that the light had not disappeared. 

It was real. He was real. It touched him to confirm that fact. 

All that separated them was glass. Spamton feels a little deja vu.

He needs to get closer. 

He snatches up his glasses. Hypnotized by perfect beauty, Spamton hysterically tries to open the window. Pulling and prodding until he finds the latch. Hearing a spring release, he flings it up with a bang. The early morning air blowing into the room awakens something in him, butterflies fill his chest and spill out into his limbs. 

This is love, it has to be. He wasn’t just seeing heaven, he was feeling it. It embraced him, and he was bathing in it. The crisp air and warm sunlight quenched a thirst he knew he had but never felt. Soothed a pain he always had but never noticed. Sucking in the air with a shuddering breath, he gets the feeling that he had never been truly alive until now. For the first time in a long time, a smile spreads in his soul, matching the over enthusiasm stuck on his face. He crawls closer to the light.

Kris wakes up from the racket just in time to see Spamton fall out of the window. Their eyes go wide, and they spring out of bed to the window. Looking to the ground, they spot Spamton, flat on his back, slack jawed, and smiling. Kris dashes downstairs and out the door.

The pain and shock from hitting the ground is dull compared to the heavenly blue filling Spamton’s view. Suddenly Kris is blocking that view, looking over him with a concerned look on their face. Spamton tries to say something, but just ends up laughing, a warbling sound as his voice tries to settle on a pitch. Tears still stream down his cheeks, as if he had experienced too much excitement too quickly and had nowhere to store all that joy. Kris can’t help but crack a smile. They sit down next to him. 

Catching his breath, Spamton abruptly sits up. “KRIIIIS!!!! Kris YOU WONDERFUL [Sponge], YOU WERE [[Right as Rain]]!! I’’M FINALLY. I’M FINALLY. I’M FINALLY. I’M FINALLY. I’M FINALLY. I’M FINALLY. I’M FINALLY. I’M  AM FINALLY[[become a real boy!]]” Spamton shouts, grabbing Kris’s shoulders. Kris nods with a small smile, not knowing how to react to Spamton’s elation. 

He laughs boisterously, “THIS IS [[The Most Incredible Savings Event of ]] MY [[Warrenty EXPIRED]]!!!!!” He looks towards the sky again, hands falling to his lap. Kris notices with alarm that he is staring straight into the sun, so they slap a hand over his glasses. 

“THE [#*&] ?!?! DON’T [Locked out of Heaven] YOU LITTLE [Crony]!” he shouts in surprise, pulling their hand off his face. 

Kris tells him that looking directly at the sun will hurt his eyes. Tears still trickling from under his lenses, he crosses his arms. “WHAT?? REALLY??? KID, I’VE [been around the block], I KNOW [IT BURNS! STOP! HELP ME!] WHEN IT [kill] ME” 

Kris frowns and shakes their head. Spamton’s glare softens, “AWW YOU DON’T WANT YOUR OL PAL TO [Soul Destroyed By God’s Light]? THATS R3AL [Sweet Deals!] KRIS. ALRIGHT, YOU ARE THE [Light] EX-PERT HERE! HAHAEHAE!” 

Spamton waggles a finger at them. “DON’T THINK THIS MEANS I’LL ST0P [click to claim] THESE [Breath Taking Views]. THIS IS ONE (1) [High_Qualty HDRI] [Skybox]!!” He enthusiastically gestures to the sky, looking up with reverence. “AND LET ME SAY, what a [[Specil Deal]]. [This baby can fit so many ] COLORS IN      !! IT WAS [Gorgonzola]! [G0re]GEus! [bad breath?] TAKING!!! IT [Burning sensation] So GOOD. IT WAS [R3@ching out to you to ]!  I.  FELT.  IT.   I CAN’T BELEVE YOU [[Snoozed you loozed]] THROUGH THAT!!!!, A PROCESSION OF    [Angel]!!  IT W/AS $ IT WAS [it was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.]” 

His hands, which had been clasped together as if holding onto the memory of the sunrise, relax. He drinks in the sweet morning air and lets out a crackling staticky sigh so weighted with relief it was palpable. 

Kris looks into the blue, trying to see the overwhelming beauty that warranted Spamton’s fervent shaking. It was a nice morning, not unlike any other morning. 

A chilly breeze blows by, signaling some new arrivals to the stratosphere. Billowy clouds drift into view. Spamton jumps up, gawking at the sky. He looks at Kris to make sure they see them too. 

“Clouds.” Kris simply says. 

His jaw literally drops from his face but glitches back into place before he notices. Looking back up, Spamton falls to his knees. 

A perfect sky, pristine and refreshing, decorated with imposing dollops of soft white and that play with the blue, highlighting their three dimensional nature. Spamton’s mouth opens and closes, but he can’t seem to get his words out. A noise like a dial-up modem prefaces his laggy speech.

“1t;Z>$ JUST LIKE MY JUST LIKE MY JUST LIKE MY JUST LIKE MY      “ 

Another chilly breeze makes him shiver, snapping him out of his loop. He shakes the static out of his head. 

“eAHAEHA… THE [Light World] IS [Better Air Conditioning for HALF the price] THAN I THOUGHT…” He adjusts his blazer, pulling it tighter. 

“It will get warmer in the afternoon,” reassures Kris. 

“[Temperature.Regulation] ISn’T VERY GOOD HERE HUH?” 

Kris snickers in response and gets up. 

“HEY WEAR ARE YOU [Going somewhere?]?.” 

“I’ll be right back.” They say, already walking away. 

Spamton’s brow furrows, but he quickly drops any protests to continue admiring the sky.

Kris walks around to the front door and lets themself in only to find Toriel brewing tea in a large multi-colored tumbler. She notices Kris and puts a paw over her heart. “Oh Kris, good morning! You spooked me! I am surprised to see you out and about so early. Could you tell me why you are sneaking in through the front door?” 

Kris shuffles their feet, avoiding their mom’s piercing gaze. “I was… watching the sun rise. Out back.” 

Toriel smiles warmly. “Oh how nice… I’m glad you are enjoying this lovely morning. Maybe we could make it a new family tradition! I would join you, but I’m just about to leave for a teacher’s conference. I will be gone all morning, so you must make your own breakfast. That does not mean the leftover pie in the fridge!” 

As she lectures, Kris slowly reaches over to the couch to snatch a blanket and complete their mission. 

Toriel gets a sympathetic look. “My child, did you get cold out there? Why don’t you take your jacket from the closet?” 

Clutching the blanket, Kris shakes their head. 

“Oh alright, you may take it outside. Just don’t get it too dirty, we have picnic blankets for that!” As she turns to grab her purse and tea, Kris disappears out the door. 

They take a breath, thankful their mother didn’t follow them. They weren’t ready to deal with Spamton’s first impressions. 

As they turn the corner, they see Spamton still staring at the sky with a silly, slack-jawed smile. He sticks out like a sore thumb against the green grass and fall foliage, as if he was photoshopped in. It didn’t help that a glitch would occasionally reveal his digital nature. Kris blinks a few times in disbelief of the ridiculous image. 

Still oblivious to Kris, Spamton raises his hand up, blocking the sun. Then he wiggles his fingers, watching the light peek through the spaces. He slowly turns his hand feeling the warmth of the sun travel over his plastic palm. Holding up his other hand too, He keeps it there, trying to hold the sunlight in his hands. He wishes he was NEO again so he could reach higher. If he was big enough, maybe he could touch the clouds too. He imagines they feel like the softest cotton, or chilled whipped cream. The downy pillows of angels… If he was big enough, he’d rest his head on a dream, so high up, no one could reach him, and he could look down on everyone scurrying around, as he drifted along without a care. Imposing wings on his back and a perfect, responsive body, a proper angel…

Sneaking up from behind, Kris tosses the blanket over his head. 

“HEY! [Who turned out the lights?]!” He exclaims, flailing and glitching. 

Kris watches with fascination as some of his pixels clip through the fabric. He finally manages to yank the blanket off, almost ripping it with his pointy nose. He whips around, startling Kris. 

Despite his mile wide smile, he is clearly angry. “WHAT ARE YOU [playing @] KRIS?? GONNA [Sack] ME UP? TAKE ME [far away]? THROW ME IN THE [210°] [[Chicken Soup]], JUST BECAUSE YOU [Want my autograph?]!!” 

Kris just picks up the blanket and holds it out to him. 

Spamton blinks, dropping his smile. “IS IS THIS FOR THE [block unwanted] WIND?” 

They shove the blanket at him. He looks at Kris for a moment, then puts it around his shoulders with a giddy grin. “UR [a real ] [[Suck-Up]], AR3N’T YOU [Little Sponge]? THAT’S GREAT! [Doing me a solid] CAN HELP YOU CLIMB THAT C0RPORATE [Laddy]! IT’S ALL ABOUT [[NetworkConnection]]ING KRIS! KEEP UP THAT [Pathetic groveling], AND ONE DAY YOU COULD [[Be a Big Shot!]] JUsT LIKE ME!!” 

Kris snickers at the unsolicited career advice. They suppose that’s his way of saying thank you. 

With the touch of the soft blanket Spamton is brought back to earth, and notices a new touch. The grass he’d been sitting in the whole time. 

Cautiously, he runs a hand through it, watching the blades spring back up after he pushes them down. He pinches one between his fingers and pulls it out of the ground, bringing it close to his glasses to examine it. 

Such a muted green! Desaturation was somewhat rare to find in Cyber World. Spamton looks all around, taking in the foliage. He’s completely surrounded! How did he miss this before? 

“KRIS! WHY D1DN’T YOU TELL ME THE GROUND IS [[Full Coverage]] IN [Natural 0rganic Fibers]!?” 

Kris is surprised. Weren’t the cyber fields covered in grass…? Or no, the ground was just a flat green color. They watch Spamton slowly press his fingers into the dirt. What is he doing? Kris is somewhat relieved that they aren’t the oddball in town anymore. 

“[Guaranteed softer skin in 7 days or less]” He mutters, pushing one of his hands deeper into the soil. He grabs a fist-full of earth and gives it a curious sniff. Spamton can’t think of anything that smells similar to the clump in his hand. He looks around again at the countless blades of grass and leaves each reacting to the breeze with unique movements and subtle sounds. 

He presses his teeth together, “HOW ARE THERE [Thousands, even MILLIONS] OF [       ]??  HOW DO YOU HAVE ENOUGH [Dedicated Ram] FOR THIS?!??” 

Kris tilts their head, they aren’t sure how to answer that. 

He looks to the ground, noticing the little hole he made there. “I CAN. I CAN. I CAN [[T3rraf0rm]] HERE?” 

Kris shrugs, “Sure. You can dig, if you want.” 

Spamton slowly squeezes the clump of dirt until it falls apart. “UnLIMITED [Complimentary], [[Hyperlink Blocked]]???” 

They have no idea what he’s talking about, but give him a thumbs up anyway. 

A laugh starts low and slow in Spamton’s throat, crescendoing into a manic cackle, as he starts tearing into the ground, creating a bigger hole. Kris swipes the blanket he dropped before it gets covered in more dirt. They give him space, too confused and curious to stop him. 

Wall-eyed and still giggling, he starts piling soil up in a little mound. Kris makes a mental note to bring him to the beach one day. He stops only a moment to attempt to eat the grass. Kris has the thought to intervene, but lets him continue because they think it’s funny. 

“HAEHAHEHA!! I CAN’t. I CAN’T [You’ll never believe] THEY JUST LET YOU [Making] HERE!!!” Spamton cheers, standing on his mound admiring the hole he dug. 

Kris comes closer again. It’s a horrible hole, shallow and messy. Lancer would commend his effort, but suggest that he pursue other endeavors. 

Spamton yanks up a handful of grass and shows it off to Kris like it was some revolutionary new product. “AND THIS [Natural Organic Fibers] ARE [Fantastic Selection of] [[Choking hazard]] AND INCLUDE TERRIBLE TASTE [[for FREE ]]!!” 

Watching Spamton stuff grass into his mouth reminded Kris how hungry they were. It was breakfast time after all. 

They stand up, patting the grass off their pants and dirt off the blanket. “Want to come inside and eat breakfast?” they ask. 

The colors of Spamton’s lenses switch back and forth like some kind of odd blink as he just stares at Kris. After an awkward silence, the question finally seems to register. 

His jaw falls open to spit out a response. “[[Thank you for filing a request, we will]] GLADLY [@!#*] YOUR [1nvite your contacts]!!! [A thrilling tour of foreign cuisine,] IS JUST WHAT I NEED TO WASH>DOWN [A spoonful] oF [[Hyperlink Blocked]]. BUT ONLY IF [You’ll pay for that], KID!” He meticulously dusts off his hands and clothes like he wasn’t playing in the dirt a minute ago. As he finishes fixing his hair, he joins Kris at their side. 

Kris notices with mild disgust that a blade of grass is stuck in the crevice separating Spamton’s jaw from his face. They tap right below the corner of their mouth to tell him. 

“WHAT’S THAT KRIS?” Spamton copies their movement. 

“0H! MISSED A [Green]” he says as he plucks it out and flicks it away. “ARnT YOU A HELPFULL [[Little Sponge]], HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT BEING MY [Personal Assistant]? [We offer many benofficials] AND THE P4Y IS [Non-existent]!” He waggles his eyebrows that have spontaneously appeared just to be waggled. 

“…I’ll think about it.” they reply, half-joking. 

The two of them stroll over to the front door. All the while, Spamton revels in the fresh and giddy feeling he has. For once, his smile doesn’t feel strained, and somehow he feels like everything will be ok. No matter where he is, the vast blue sky will be there, watching over him. If he doesn’t [$$!$] it up, maybe Kris will stick around too.

Chapter Text

Kris stands at their front door, an eager salesman at their side. With a hand on the door knob, they wonder if they’re going to regret officially welcoming Spamton into their home. They glance down at him. 

“WELL, ARE YOU GOING TO [[Welcome him into your heart]] OR NOT?” He asks with his hands on his hips and a bright smile.

Kris clears their throat and slowly opens the door. Spamton adjusts his lapels and politely puts his hands behind his back, preparing to make a good impression to an empty house. Kris enters first, tossing the blanket back on the couch, and Spamton strides in behind them. 

He looks all around the room turning in a circle, lingering on the open door behind him. “[What a lovely home,] SPACIOU S AND [c3ntral Heating]! I’M SURE YOU DO PLENTY OF [[Live Laugh Love]] IN HERE.” 

Meeting his gaze, Kris points a finger at him, “I’m going to get some breakfast for us. Don’t steal anything. Don’t break anything.” 

Spamton puts his hands up, “WHAT?!?NO NO I WOULD NE<3R [Do all that stuff]!!! I’M AND [HonestMan]. YOU CAN [Trust me] [In your home, car, or office] AND EVEN YOUR [B4nk Account]!!” 

Kris narrows their eyes, then locks the front door and heads to the kitchen. They know there’s some cereal somewhere in the pantry. They wonder if Spamton would like Sugar Dusted Chocolate Bombs… although, he would probably eat anything. 

Meanwhile, Spamton is sniffing around the living room. A heavy glitch almost makes him trip when he notices the large television set in front of the couch. 

“KRIS?! What D1D I >TEll YOU?!?!” He shakes his head in disappointment, dramatically sniffles and wipes a fake tear from his eye. “A GUY TRIES TO [Warning!] SOMEONE  AND THEY JUST [[allowing registered criminals to talk to your kids]].” 

Spamton slides a hand across the screen, rubbing an accumulation of dust between his fingers. He starts to snicker. 

“haEHa… BUT IT LOOKS LIKE THIS [Cathode] WAS LEFT [R0tting] [[shunned by friends and family]].  YOU’RE HALFWAY THERE KRIS!! [To complete the ] ALL YOU NEED IS A [[Large, Ball Peen Hammer]]!!!” He punctuates his pitch by taking a swing at the television with an invisible hammer as he stares at Kris with a manic grin. 

Kris gives him an awkward smile in response and continues to fill two bowls with cereal. They opt to eat their cereal dry, the way they’ve always liked it, but leave the milk out in case Spamton wants to try some.

Spamton’s nose twitches as he nears the beloved “Chairiel.” Hidden behind it is a jar of loose change with the words “For a rainy day” written on a flowery print label. Like some kind of dowsing rod, his nose leads him right to it. 

“OHOHO A [[Cash]] OF [[cache]]!” Spamton exclaims as he snatches the jar and ogles the coins and paper bills through the glass. “[Raw, unfiltered] [Lite] WORLD KROMER.… I NEED TO [Free Samples] THIS RIGHT NOW!!!” 

Before he can twist open the lid, Kris appears in front of him and puts their hand on the lid. Spamton’s head snaps up to look Kris in the face, flashing his best customer service smile. 

“HEY HEY KRIS, MY [Bestest Buddy]!!! YOU WON’T MIND [[Donate and Share]] A LITTLE [Genorisity] TO YOUR OLD PAL!!! COME ON, YOU CAN [Spare Change]. I KNOW YOUVE GOT DEEEEP [Pocket](s)!!” His fingers get fidgety with eagerness. 

Kris slowly pulls the jar away from him, as he scrapes his fingers across the glass.

“I SEE YOU VALUE YOUR [[Super Savings!]]… THAT”S WHY IM R3DUCING THE [[Minimum Donation Amount]]!! JUST ONE DOLAR!!! TO [Renew license please confirm your] FR[endtable]s hi P.” Kris looks at the jar, then at Spamton, whose hand is stretched out awaiting payment. 

Usually their choices were meaningless, overshadowed by the narrative, sweeping little interactions away. But now, they know at least it would make him happy, that’s something they could affect. Their Mom wouldn’t notice a single dollar missing…

Kris unscrews the jar and fishes out a dollar bill. Spamton’s jaw creaks open in some kind of open-mouthed smile. If he could salivate he would be. They place the bill in his hand, and he stands frozen for a moment. 

Kris is tempted to poke him again, but before they can, a little visual bug snaps him out of it, and he plays a bit-crushed cash register sound effect as he throws his hands in the air. 

“MUCH APPRECIATE KRIS!!!” He giggles and stretches the dollar out, examining its colors and patterns. 

A smile crosses Kris’s face. They take the jar with them as they return to the kitchen, searching for a safer place to put it. 

Spamton chuckles more, realizing he was the first Addison to take physical Light World cash directly from a Lightner. If only they could see him now…

It was delightfully textured, crinkled with use. He holds it up to the light, making the deep greens and yellows glow and revealing hidden patterns within the paper. 

This light, this real light, acted similarly to darkness in his world. Bringing things into view and into reality as long as it continued to cover them. Now he was part of it. The light now shines on him. It was as if his innate requirements to exist had been flipped. 

Did that mean he was now a Lightner? The possibility of his ascension made him shake with excitement. He reached higher than Spamton Neo ever could, but he was still the same. 

Still a puppet, still riddled with glitches. The thought that he was completely, irreversibly broken made him feel like he was sinking. Back into darkness. Back into the trash. Where he belonged. That’s what he was made for after all. He couldn’t change himself. He was the same salesman in the light and the dark. The Light World was fresh, it didn’t know him. But he was still the same, it was obvious he didn’t belong. He was still a puppet. Plastic and lifeless. Completely and irreversibly broken. His story was set, somehow it would find him again and drag him, kicking and screaming, back to his role. Not even the burning light of heaven could do anything about it. It was only a matter of time.

Kris hears white noise coming from the living room. Maybe he turned the TV on…? Peeking in, they spot him standing where they left him, the dollar bill held tightly in his fist. He faced the wall, completely still. As Kris approaches him, the static noise becomes louder. They take a look at his face. 

Digital snow had flooded his lenses. Once more the dots painted on his cheeks were gone along with his smile, the odd rectangular shape of his teeth still stuck in a grin. With his face downturned, he looked even more lifeless than usual.

Kris waves their hand in front of his eyes. 

No response. 

They cautiously tap his shoulder. 

No response. 

They prepare to flick his nose, but withdraw before releasing their pointer as a thought pops into their head.

They wonder what his eyes look like underneath his glasses, especially when he was doing… this. Perhaps removing the source of the static would wake him up?

Curiosity guides their hand closer and closer to his frames, the static seemingly hissing louder as their fingers approach.

Just as they make contact, Spamton’s face distorts horrifically. Kris recoils as Spamton jerks back in a panic, cowering on the ground, his glasses flickering static and garbled colors. 

With his horrible mouth upturned in his trademark massive smile, his glitching head flips back and forth as he yells with sudden panic, 

“no! please! LET ME STAY. Please LET ME STAYP LEASE [[I need to make a ph0n3 cALL!]] [[A Phone Call]]!!!” He freezes for a moment. 

In less than a second, he snaps up to a standing position, his face and glasses returning to normal. He looks at Kris with his usual smile, their eyes are wide in fear. Then he silently opens his hand and stares blankly at a very crumpled dollar bill.

Kris swallows a lump in their throat, and takes a long breath in, realizing they had been holding it since they reached for his glasses. 

He still freaks them out sometimes, although they consider him a friend. Actually, the fact that he was so scary and weird made them like him more. They wanted him to hang around. It felt special that he was the only one who recognized their predicament and actively wanted to help them break free. 

Their puppeteer had been exceedingly friendly and heroic, they often doubted any of their friends actually liked them for the weird, edgy kid they had always been until now. The terrifying thought that their new friends would leave them if they ever did regain their autonomy, loomed over them like a great shadow. (Spamton’s friends dropped him when he lost the thing that made him successful…) They really hoped at least Susie would stay. The only ones they are certain would stick around was their Mom, their brother, who wasn’t even in town, and… Spamton. 

Underneath his insanity, ego, and anger, he was desperate to be understood, to have a real friend. They had a strange camaraderie, a solidarity between puppets, that reached beyond the on-rails adventure their soul dragged them through. Certainly, his puppeteer had been rougher with him. Yet, he was still kicking. It was still possible for him to deny the will of the Narrative. This thought pumped confidence and hope through Kris’s veins. 

Or maybe it was just a case of weirdos attracting more weirdos.

Kris speaks up, “Are-“ “HAHEHAHEAEHA!!Nothing’s Wrong. NOTHINGS WRONG.!!! DON’T [Worry wart] YOUR [Little] HEAD, [Little Sponge]!!” 

He promptly tosses the dollar into his mouth, and it gets sucked into the abyss. He looks pleased. 

“YUM YUM” 

“…Do you still want to make a call?” Kris asks as they hesitantly reach for their home phone on the wall. 

Spamton tilts his head, “A [phone call]…? HA HA! WHO WOULD I [Call for help]?? NOBODY WOULD ANSWER. WE B0TH KNOW. [Longdistance calls made to a location outside defined local calling areas are typically charged a higher billing rate.]” His teeth clack together as he finishes his sentence, the interruption playing like a voice message from an intercom.

Kris briefly recalls the grating noise their phone made when attempting to call within the Dark World. They suppose it wouldn’t work the other direction either. How did he know they tried…? 

They humph, glancing away from him. “Um. Breakfast is ready.”

Spamton immediately perks up, clasping his hands together. “[Fr?] THANK YOU [[Chef]] KRIS!!” 

With pep in his step he walks ahead of Kris and seats himself in front of a bowl filled with a cereal that should be classified as a dessert. As Kris takes their seat next to him, he uses his spoon to mix the dry, chocolate colored puffs around, the clinking sound reminds him of car keys jingling in his pocket. 

“[Bone app the teeth] KRIS!” 

“Yeah you too.” Kris replies with a smile that surprises them with how genuine it felt. 

Spamton picks up his bowl and expertly funnels the cereal into his mouth, crushing the puffs between his teeth. 

“HEY THAT’S GOOD!! [Lotsa] CRUNCHY!” He seems to have no issue talking with his mouth full. 

Not a single piece is wasted. Not even the spoon is safe. Oh well. 

Kris is impressed by his inability to choke. “[Part of a Complete Breakfast]” He spouts, noticing Kris staring. Placing the bowl down, he sees the milk carton Kris left on the table.

“WHATs THIs KRIs? A [[1 Gallon]] OF [[Physiological torture device]]?”

“It’s Milk.” They reply, snickering through a mouthful of chocolate corn puffs.

“THAT,S WHAT I SAID! …but YOU WOULDN’T                  YOURE FAVORITE [Pal] RIGHT??;?” 

Kris has no clue what he’s talking about, but he looks kind of nervous about whatever he didn’t say, so they look him in the eyes with a sinister smile and nod. 

“I would.”

With some kind of fear in his eyes he quickly smacks their back in a stilted but friendly gesture. “HEHAHEA I DIDNT KNOW YOU [Liked] ME T>HAT MUCH YOU, [rabid FREAK]!!!!!”

Not leaving any time for Kris to ask, he pops open the milk carton and fills his empty bowl. “[[By the By]] [Little Sponge], UR SUPPOSED TO [Serving sample] THE S0UP BEFFORE THE [Main Attraction]”

Spamton holds his bowl up gesturing to Kris, still holding a spoonful of cereal. 

“CHEERS KRIS!!! TO [[Freedom ]]. TO [[Heaven]]!!” He proceeds to pour the whole thing down his gullet, tipping his head back like he was taking a shot. 

“Cheers, Spamton.” Kris shrugs and follows suit, dumping the last bit of their cereal into their mouth, ravenously crunching the puffs into dust.

Spamton’s smile stretches at the corners when he hears Kris say his name. He hasn’t heard “Cheers, Spamton” since 1997… Those ungrateful slimes, congratulating him… he knows now that it was all fake, they were all just jealous. All the praise and support, respect from his peers… For once he could at least pretend to be worthy, because everyone knew he was the biggest thing around. 

A small glitch snaps him back to the present. He doesn’t dare think about it anymore, those memories are like touching a hot stove. His eyes wander back to Kris, still chomping through cereal. 

What a good kid… even when he tried to take their [Heart Shaped Object], despite both of them being held up by strings, he knew they were on his side. He could see it in the way they sliced through the last wire with a wild hope in their eyes. After everything he did to them, they stayed after he fell… They kept his final gift. How else could he be here with them?

Dusting off any crumbs, he reaches into his blazer. 

“HERE KIDDO, A TIP!” He places the spoon that Kris swears they saw him eat a minute ago on the table. 

“DON’T [lost it all] IN ONE PLACE.” He winks at Kris. 

They look bewildered as they cautiously pick up the spoon. It’s definitely the same one. 

Poor kid, they’ve probably never seen that much [spoon] in their life. Pushing his bowl away, he stands up on his chair and slicks his hair back.

“WELLLLL LL THATS ENOUGH [Chocolate Caviar] 4 ME. COME ON KRIS!! LETS [[Go go go]] BACK OuTSIDE!!!!!” With a hop and a skip, he’s off towards the front door.