Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tenna watched as the warm glow of Spamton's face dimmed and went pale. His eyes widened as his classic smile fell and twisted into a look of disbelief, then horror. Without even looking at Tenna, Spamton dropped the phone and ran.

The handset swung like a hypnotizing pendulum. No sound came from the receiver; it wasn't playing the off-hook tone. That meant someone was still on the other end of the line.

Tenna could have run after Spamton. He started to, or at least he made an aborted movement to pursue him. If he'd been a better man, if he hadn't been so scared and desperate for relevancy and answers, he might have done the right thing, the good thing, and gone to support his partner.

Instead, he picked up the phone.

…

There was nobody on the other end.

In the brief moment it took for Tenna to start believing he'd been tricked, the slam of one of the changing room doors echoed down the hall.

~ ~ ~

Programming had been put on hold, old reruns taking the place of the usual shows while the crew tried to work around their missing actor. Tension filled the air and everyone was walking on eggshells. The stage was off limits. Tenna was adamant that nothing be filmed until his co-star came out.

Spamton had locked himself in his room and refused to see or speak to anyone since he'd signed the contract. He didn't accept food, he didn't leave, and he didn't take any calls. The phone didn't ring anymore, anyway.

On the first day, Tenna had tried to ask him if he was alright. Spamton brushed him off, said everything was fine. There was something wrong with the way he'd spoken. Tenna brought up the phone and how there'd been no one there, and Spamton had started screaming at him, spouting nonsense about broken deals and prophecies until he devolved into an ad-break and then into static. Tenna had never heard him so upset, and beneath it all, he seemed afraid.

After that, Spamton had gone silent. It didn't matter who talked to him, even Ramb couldn't get him to respond. Tenna had asked Mike to try, but Mike didn't seem to be there anymore. That bothered Tenna. Something wasn't right and he didn't know what, and the one person that could tell him was refusing to.

He'd gotten angry, then sad, then angry again trying to puzzle out what the problem was. Inside, his concern for Spamton warred with the idea that he'd been betrayed and abandoned. He could've blamed his partner so much more easily if he'd just left, but Spamton was still here, and between the last look Tenna had gotten of his face and his behaviour now, things weren't adding up to the simple conclusion that he'd been scammed.

A week into Spamton's isolation, Tenna had caved and let Elnina and Lanino run the weather report. The afternoon was sunny, but dark clouds were on the horizon. Tenna didn't join them onstage. He sat at Spamton's door, screen dark and knees to his chest. Music drifted muffled through the walls, but the changing room was devoid of sound. If he hadn't known that there weren't any other exits, he might've thought Spamton had left after all.

Tenna shifted and rapped softly against the wood. "Spammy? You're still in there, aren't you?"

Nothing.

"It's just me. You know you can talk to me. Please?"

Nothing.

Tenna's composure wavered. His claws scraped against the door.

"I don't understand… why don't you trust me? Aren't we partners? I gave you everything I had, wasn't that enough?"

He was only met with dead air. He growled.

"I could get one of the Zappers to open this door, you know."

A crash, and then something slammed into the door. Tenna jumped.

"D0N'T," said a voice on the other side. "D[Don't miss out!], PLEASE."

Tenna frowned. "Spamton? Is that you? You sound… different."

"YOu CAN'T [Coming] IN, YOU CAN'T [c sharp] ME [[Like and Subscribe]] THIS!!"

"Why?!" said Tenna. He pressed his hands to the door. "What's going on? What happened after that phone call? Why won't you tell me?!"

"YOU CAN'T, [[You]] C4N'T, YOU [Can't sleep? Take these pills], YOU-YOU-YOU-"

Static, then sharp, unnerving laughter, then more static almost like a scream. There was a clatter, a smash, then sounds like one of the Shadowguys was chasing a lazer pointer around the room. Tenna backed away, appalled.

When the noises finally stopped, everything was silent again. Tenna breathed hard. There was something off, and the feeling of it itched at his circuits and sent chills down his spine. It was like when Asriel and Kris were playing video games and something happened that shouldn't, a glitch or a sprite out of place that just looked and felt wrong.

Tenna left. He told himself that there was nothing to be done. If Spamton didn't want to talk, then Tenna couldn't help him.

He found himself avoiding Spamton's door after that.

~ ~ ~

It was late. The cast and crew had gone home for the night and the Green Room was empty and quiet. Soft light beamed from the stars on the walls and cast off the shining surface of Tenna's head. He was stretched out on one of the couches, staring up at nothing. He'd taken to staying after hours these days. It was almost better to be here knowing his partner was too than leaving alone. He slept a little better, anyway. That is, when he slept at all.

A month had passed. Ratings had dropped. Tenna had started putting on new shows again, but without Spamton, it wasn't the same. The jokes didn't land, the writing didn't have the same kick. When he looked into the audience, the numbers had thinned. Familiar faces were missing from the crowd.

The family's fighting again.

Tenna curled in on himself. The cushions swallowed him as he started to shrink.

Everything was going wrong. Their dreams of success were crashing down around them. Nobody wanted to watch TV anymore, it was all 'e-mails' and 'internet' and 'yoob-toob'. Tenna's employees were starting to lose faith, so he'd been tightening up their contracts. The last thing he needed was for them to leave him, too. He wouldn't let them, even if they hated him for it, they'd all see eventually that he was doing it for a good reason. After all, everybody loved TV! They just needed to remember it.

A click echoed through the desolate halls. Tenna's antennae sprang to attention. That was the sound of a door opening. That was the sound of the door opening.

He scrambled off the couch, jumping up to his usual height as he ran to the changing rooms.

"Spamton?!" he called.

There was no reply.

The tip-tap of Tenna's shoes was the only sound that followed him as he made his way down the passage. He would have sprinted as fast as he could and grabbed his little mailman (he hadn't decided whether to hug him or shake him) but something about the way the silence was pressing down around him made him cautious.

He reached Spamton's door. It was ajar, opened just wide enough for someone to slip out. Tenna peered inside and gasped.

Everything had been completely wrecked. The furniture was torn apart and broken and the mirror smashed. The posters were hanging in tatters, Spamton's face ripped out of every one. Only the rotary was intact, once again left off the hook. The howler tone was beeping away. Tenna carefully crossed through the minefield of debris, wincing as his shoes crunched on splinters and glass, and unplugged the phone. The tone stopped.

Spamton wasn't in here. Where could he have gone? Why had he done this? What was going on?

A shiver ran through Tenna. He felt cold.

He walked back out into the hall. It seemed darker than it had been before. He increased the brightness of his screen, a beam of pale light stretching out ahead of him. There were the ranked changing rooms, doors still firmly shut. Tenna decided to check them anyway.

C-Rank looked normal. He kept quiet to not wake up the water cooler. Tenna checked the ball machine to make sure Spamton hadn't tried to climb up the prize slot and gotten stuck again. A-Rank's minigame doors were locked tight. The screens in the T-Rank room were off and the book, half obscured by shadow, was shut.

Tenna stormed out to the green room proper. There was no way Spamton had slipped past him. He couldn't have! He must be hiding somewhere, Tenna just had to check again. He turned to start his search over, and saw the S-Rank door was no longer closed.

That couldn't be right. Someone must have left it unlocked and Tenna just hadn't noticed… or Spamton had gone in while Tenna was distracted with the other rooms.

He slowly pushed the door open. The hallway on the other side stretched out ahead of him. Walking to the end took far longer than Tenna remembered. He stopped at the next door. He didn't know why he was hesitating, but there was a sense of finality to this moment, like if he went through then something would happen that he couldn't come back from.

Steeling himself, Tenna held his breath and stepped through.

It was quiet. The lights weren't on. Tenna's screen illuminated dingy walls and cracks in the paint. Dust covered the floor, and his shoes left prints as he moved further in. He had a thought that Spamton hadn't come here after all, because there would have been a second set of footprints in the grime.

"Spamton?" he whispered into the dark.

Something moved to his left. Tenna whipped around to face it. The air left his lungs in a gasp and he stumbled back into the wall. He clapped a hand to his mouth so he wouldn't scream.

At first, it seemed like Spamton was only standing, motionless and without a sound. That in and of itself was wrong. Spamton was always moving, always talking, beaming out at the world with that Addison glow. Perfectly still like this, it was clear the dull lightlessness of his pale skin was something unnatural, his cheeks a painted red and his hair a greasy false black. His suit, tattered now, seemed to be eating him alive with the way it slumped on his thin frame. Then there were the unrecognizable things. His hands were carved with unfamiliar lines. His smile was too wide. His lidless eyes yawned like shattered windows into a deep abyss. Most of all, and what Tenna couldn't fathom- his feet were not touching the ground.

Spamton was floating- no, hanging- he was suspended, arms held up and legs dangling like there were invisible strings tied to him.

Tenna watched as he silently drifted backstage, graceful as falling snow. The old door shut behind him.

Chapter Text

For a minute, Tenna couldn't breathe. The shock of what he'd seen left him paralyzed and pressing into the wall. He felt like he was trapped in a nightmare where nothing made sense. It really could've been a nightmare. As he trembled, he imagined that he was still on the couch slumbering away and Spamton was in his room, safe and… not that.

The image was burned into his mind. Limp limbs, a twisted face, empty eyes, the thing that had hung in front of him was an unrecognizable specter compared to his little mailman. But the hair, the suit; Tenna could not deny that they were Spamton's.

This had to be a nightmare. A very bad nightmare. Tenna forced a breath through his vents. Kris must have snuck downstairs after bedtime to watch horror movies again. He was just dreaming, wasn't he?

Tenna glanced at his shaking hand, lowered it, and pinched himself. He winced. Too real. It all felt too real.

If it was real, what did it mean? What was happening to Spamton?

The door to the backstage was in front of him. The couch was somewhere behind. He could leave, think of himself and his sanity, pretend this had never happened and just go back and try to sleep. In the morning, when he found Spamton missing, he could tell everyone that he'd snuck out in the night and left them all high and dry.

Except, Tenna had already done it once. He'd chosen the phone over his partner, and something horrible had happened. He wasn't making that mistake again.

Walking forward on unsteady feet, Tenna gulped, straightened his tie, and opened the door.

Darkness closed in around him. The lack of light was oppressive, nearly choking him. His screen only offered a shallow pool of respite. He felt that he still had a chance to turn back and save himself from whatever horrors waited further in.

He kept going.

The curtains swayed around him as if they were caught in a breeze, but the air was utterly still. Tenna didn't know if they were trying to push him away or beckon him onward. They writhed in a way that fabric shouldn't be able to move and clung to his skin where they brushed against him. He shuddered and swatted them away.

They parted, and Tenna was standing at the edge of the game console area. The sound of his shallow breathing echoed in the cavernous space and made him feel suddenly very small.

Spamton was hanging in the center of the room. He rocked gently with the movement of the curtains.

Tenna tried to call out, but the words caught in his throat. Clearing it made a sound that was far too loud after so much silence. He shrank on instinct. It was only him and Spamton in here, but he couldn't help the impression that he shouldn't draw attention to himself.

"Spamton!" he quietly hissed. The word scraped against the walls and parroted into something sharp and distorted. Tenna cringed.

Spamton didn't respond. If he was awake, he didn't seem to be able to talk like… that.

There wasn't much else to do. Tenna bit his finger and looked around, hoping he wouldn't see anything and knowing it was just the two of them, and then took a step closer to reach out to his partner.

He felt the shift in the air immediately. Pressure refocused around him, a physical weight of shadow pulsing like a beating heart as it squeezed out from where Spamton hung and swept into the corners. Tenna was caught in the wave and shoved backward. He stumbled.

Spamton trembled, and then fell. He crumpled unceremoniously to the ground like a discarded toy, his limbs painfully contorted beneath him. Tenna opened his mouth to speak and the shadows tightened around him. Spamton's fingers twitched. His head lifted slightly. He let out a wheeze that sounded like a plea.

And then, with startling clarity, Tenna knew that there was something else in the room.

The hum of the console starting up rose through the floor. Before Tenna could react, the massive screen split open at the middle as light blasted forth and blinded him. Harsh feedback blared as the colors switched green, blue, green, black bars crawling up until the whole thing went dark with an awful high-pitched tone. Tenna had to degauss himself to reset his vision. The buzz of voltage momentarily cut out the single agonizing note.

When he could see again, he was met with Spamton weakly trying to pull himself away, and the glow of the black screen ready to devour him. There was a rising tension in the air as the console continued to charge. The tone kept getting louder until Tenna felt like his head was going to crack.

He didn't know what was about to happen. He didn't care.

Tenna surged forward, struggling against the shadows with every inch as he fought to get to Spamton. He clawed at the Thing that held him and forced his way past it. The pressure abruptly released and he tripped and crashed down onto his knees.

A point of light only a few pixels across appeared on the screen. The hum reached a crescendo, and Spamton began to scream.

Strings, error-green and knife-edge thin, shot out and snared him by the waist. Spamton pulled at them, and more snapped around his wrists, his legs, his throat. He gurgled and strained against them. Then, the strings started to drag him backwards toward the screen.

Tenna was on his feet in a snap and sprinting. He thought to try a Smash Cut, but there was no time. The strings tensed and yanked Spamton up- just as Tenna caught him. The lines went taught and Tenna slid forward, putting all his weight into keeping Spamton away from that screen. His claws were digging into Spamton's suit and Tenna tried not to think about how thin his little mailman felt underneath it.

Spamton's head snapped back with the tension and he made a strangled noise. The joints of his arms creaked as they were stretched to their limits. Tenna's own were aching from the strain. He didn't have enough of a grip. He was being reeled in too, his shoes skidding against the smooth floor.

"I've got you!" he said. "I'm not letting go!"

Awful noise droned around them. Tenna stared into the vacant eyes of his partner and found no sign that he'd been heard. Then, as if drawn upward, he gazed past the strings and into the center of the darkness.

There, in the middle, between and of the shadows, he saw a face. It grinned out at him with too many teeth like mirror shards reflecting endlessly on themselves. Its eyes smoldered with merciful colors that pierced through Tenna's circuits. The sound of static wavered, warped, and resolved into unintelligible laughter. It made him feel small, smaller than he'd ever been, so small that light seemed endlessly far away and he could fall forever in the dark.

Once, Spamton had answered Tenna when he'd asked who was on the phone. He'd said, "a Friend".

Pink and yellow seared into him as its attention fixed on Tenna. Nothing existed beyond the dark, those eyes, and Spamton in front of him. The strings began to squirm and wriggle forward from where they were tied. They dug into Tenna's skin, latching onto some core part of him that made him gasp with pain. It burned.

He tightened his hold on Spamton.

The pull from the strings increased sharply, and Tenna nearly toppled over. He kicked uselessly against the ground as he was dragged the rest of the way toward the screen. At the last second, his heels caught on the edge of the console and he stopped. The sudden jolt had his limbs shrieking and he was sure he heard a crack from Spamton's frame. His arms felt like they were going to be ripped off.

Friend beamed out at him. It was closer, or Tenna was closer to it. The strings continued to burrow.

A single white pixel flew out and stuck to the screen. Tenna tore his vision away from the dark and saw it had come from Spamton. Flecks of black and white were peeling off of him and being absorbed. He was being torn apart.

Tenna was starting to overheat, shaking from the effort of maintaining his grip. Everything was on fire.

He didn't let go.

The smile of the shadow seemed to waver.

Strings whipped out and wrapped Tenna's head, crawling into his vents and burrying themselves in his ports. His vision flickered as he registered new inputs. It was going to show him something, something he didn't want to see. Tenna wrenched away, but he couldn't rip them out without losing Spamton.

The sight of his partner blinked and disappeared. There was nothing, a void so vast it was incomprehensible. He was lost within it, crying for help and nobody answering him. Another blink. He was looking out of himself, through the glass and into a world so impossibly bright it burned.

Tenna screamed, from pain and from anger and from sheer determination. He could still feel Spamton, and he anchored himself on the sensation of his partner in front of him. Pulling himself forward, he wrapped his arms completely around him. Even lost, even obsolete and infinitely small, Spamton hadn't left. He'd loved Tenna every moment that Tenna could not love himself and chosen Tenna over the phone even when Tenna hadn't done the same. He'd stayed. Tenna was not going to let go.

He saw it, then. He was made to see it. Where the strings were going. What it was all leading to.

Three heroes. The Angel. The Delta Rune. The end of the world. A prophecy foretold, its coming inevitable and terrible as a storm. Truer than anything, the truth of everything. He saw what it wanted him to see.

THE LORD OF SCREENS

CLEAVED RED BY BLADE

Red-hot agony split through Tenna's face and stole the breath from him. A circuit shorted out inside his body and he spasmed. For the briefest moment, his grip on Spamton loosened.

It was only a moment.

Tenna faced the dark, glaring into it as he hugged Spamton closer to his chest. He was nose to nose with the Friend, and he made sure it was looking right at him and listening very, very carefully.

"You're not taking him."

Friend looked back, its grin betraying nothing. Tenna was breaking under the strain, but he would shatter before he gave up. Perhaps that was his destiny.

Time seemed to slow. Something was going to give, and it was either Tenna or those strings. Tenna felt like he was melting, every fragile part of himself passing a threshhold. Any second now, he'd come undone. He hoped Kris would be able to forgive him.

Pressure shifted again. The droning laughter faded away.

The face disappeared into the black.

As Tenna watched, the strings went slack and then fizzled out entirely. With nothing to hold him, he fell back and crashed onto the ground. Spamton was limp and safely in his arms.

Everything burned, but it was the normal burn of overheating. He was injured in a dozen places and the components of his limbs were probably shredded. It was all he could do to breathe and try to cool down. He still clutched Spamton in a death grip.

Text appeared on the screen, the letters strange. He strained to read it.

[ WE ARE DONE WITH HIM. IT IS YOU WE NEED ALIVE. ]

Tenna swallowed thickly. The text disappeared, and the screen powered down. The console turned off and left the air still and quiet. The dark lightened.

Just like that, the nightmare was over.

It was gone. Spamton was here.

A wheeze puffed from Tenna's vents and he untensed as the last of his strength left him. He didn't think there was a part of him that wasn't in pain. Bit by bit, his awareness started to slip away as a deeper and far more peaceful darkness claimed him. He couldn't hold on any longer.

A small hand, the fingers thinner than they should be, gripped at the fabric of Tenna's shirt. He barely managed to lift his head to look.

Spamton was tilted so that he was facing Tenna, his eyeless sockets peering at him with an expressionless desperation. Parts of him fragmented off, jittered, and reset.

"T3n. T[Tender Love and Care]?" he said. His voice was staticky and distorted, but within it, Tenna heard his little mailman.

Tenna smiled weakly. "Hi, Spammy."

Spamton pulled himself forward so he could reach out and put his hand on the side of Tenna's too-warm screen.

"I [[mist]] YOU."

That was the last thing Tenna heard before he dropped into unconsciousness.

Chapter Text

Darkness receded slowly, consciousness seeping in waves of pain that lapped at Tenna's mind and had him wishing he could plunge back into the numb, velvety warmth of sleep. Moving felt like far too much effort, so he stayed still and let his thoughts percolate and collect like rain water.

He'd seen something he shouldn't have. Unwanted knowledge blazed through him with an ache soul-deep. He could feel himself being drawn perpetually forward toward a fate he couldn't escape, now. Tenna was cursed to know the terrible end he was headed for, and he had no idea why.

Then, he realized that Spamton was no longer in his arms.

Tenna would have jolted upright, but his body responded at the speed a Ribbick crawls. His fingers twitched, his screen buzzed as it began to turn on, and his vision faded in with a click. Everything was vague and dark. He worried that he'd somehow been transported to that awful empty void out of retribution, but then felt a small hand pat the side of his head.

"MORNING [[sunshine]]."

Weight, featherlight but there, pressed into his shoulder. Tenna turned his head and saw the blurry white image of Spamton leaned against him. He refocused his display settings and the haunting face of his little mailman became clear.

"Spamton," he murmured, and then winced. Angel above, everything hurt.

"TAKE IT [4 Easy Payments of 9.99] BIG GUY. YOU'rE [Injured? Call This #] PRETTY BAD."

Tenna groaned. "You're rolling ads now?"

Spamton was quiet for a moment. A few pixels broke off his shoulder and then returned. "I [[can't stop won't stop]]."

The incident at the door weeks ago. The brief conversation they'd had earlier. Every time he spoke, Spamton's speech was invaded by ad breaks and sound bites. Tenna was starting to put the puzzle pieces together, and he didn't like the picture they were making.

"What…" he started, not completely sure which of the hundreds of questions whirling in his mind he would pick.

"I GOT [u] A SPECIL [[TVDinner]]," Spamton interrupted. He grabbed a red plastic tray from just out of sight and slid it over. The vegan steak was cold and the ice cream cone in the middle had gone soggy, but it was food. "YOU SH0ULD [eat your heart out!]."

Tenna eyed Spamton, but he wasn't in any shape to argue. Heal first, questions after.

He started to sit up and hissed as his arms twinged. Spamton stood, faltered and nearly fell over, then moved to help. He grabbed Tenna's hand to pull him and Tenna yelped, then gasped as he'd tried to grab his shoulder and hurt his other side. Spamton dropped his hand like a hot iron.

"SORRY, SORRY," Spamton said. He looked down and another visual error buzzed through him. "I'M [So Sorry]."

It took some work and Tenna decreasing his size by a few feet, but between Spamton pushing at his back and his own efforts he managed to get into a sitting position. He didn't want to move his arms, so Spamton limped over with the TV Dinner.

"NEED HELP?" said Spamton.

Tenna nodded. Spamton hopped into his lap, stabbed the steak with a fork until a mutilated chunk came off, and then offered it to his partner with a shaking hand. Tenna took it gratefully. This close, he could see how slender and boney Spamton's fingers had become, the joints doll-like. It was the same further into the sleeve of his now-oversized jacket. He'd truly been reduced to something skeletal.

He ate a few more bites of the steak, Spamton struggling as much as Tenna was with each one. His HP gradually rose, and soon it didn't feel like it would kill him if he lifted the fork himself. Tenna took it from Spamton, and their hands brushed against each other. Spamton's were cold in that way plastic was, devoid of any sign of life or familiarity. Tenna tried hard not to recoil. Instead, he cut a piece of the not-meat and presented it to his partner. Spamton didn't move.

"I'M NOT [Hungry Hungry Hippos]."

Tenna frowned softly. "Don't think I haven't noticed you're hurt too."

Spamton's hand twitched toward his side. He looked away.

"Please?" said Tenna. "For me?"

A pregnant pause followed, and then Spamton sighed. "YOU [no] I CAN'T [[Resist]] WH3N YOU ASK [Like That]."

Tenna's antennae jumped and he couldn't hide a pleased smile as Spamton took the bite. Spamton chewed (mortified like he always was when Tenna fawned over him), shivered as the healing magic took effect, then straightened. His face really didn't change anymore, but Tenna could sense a sudden eagerness to him. He lurched forward to try and snatch the fork back.

"GIMME."

Tenna lifted the utensil out of reach. "Ah ah ah! You had your turn, now it's mine."

Spamton crossed his arms, and Tenna could have laughed as his little mailman pouted if he knew his ribs wouldn't protest. He certainly didn't complain as Tenna continued to feed him.

"It's been a little while since we had dinner together," Tenna said.

Spamton scoffed, or choked. Tenna couldn't really tell which.

"NOT MY [First Prize] PICK FOR A [[Save the Date!]]."

At that, Tenna broke. His screen fogged as tears threatened to fall.

"You really do care, don't you?" he said, then sniffled and wiped at his face. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to- it's just- I- it's been a hard month."

"TeLL M3 [abt] IT," Spamton said. Tenna knew he'd be rolling his eyes if he still had them. Then, he softened and picked at the edge of his jacket.

"[Did you know?]," he went on, "WHEN [u] PASSED OUT, I THOUGHT I [[Lost]] YOU."

"Me? I thought I was going to lose you!" Tenna said with probably too much force.

Spamton glanced off to some vague faraway point in space.

"What is it?" Tenna said. He reached for him, but Spamton leaned away from Tenna's touch.

"WHY?"

"Why what?"

"[Y] D1D YOU [[Save]] ME?" The words crackled as Spamton said them. He shook and put his hands over his eyes as if he was trying to keep from crying.

"Oh, Spammy."

"DON'T, PLeASE." He dug his fingers into his empty sockets and clawed at his face. His body fizzled with glitches. "DON'T [Look at me!], DON'T LOOK, [Pretty Please] DON'T, DON'T…"

Tenna did the only thing he could think to. He moved the TV Dinner to the floor and lifted Spamton so he could hug him to his chest. Spamton gripped Tenna's shirt and let out little static whimpers as he shuddered and broke apart. Tenna curled and enveloped him, holding him as close and as tightly as he dared. He'd been so, so afraid, so angry and sad for weeks, and now finally he had his little mailman back.

They cried together for a little while, Spamton mumbling between dry sobs. The dark cradled them both in the gentle silence of the backstage. Nothing was okay, but they had this moment with each other, and for a little while that could be enough.

Eventually they both quieted. Tenna relaxed, and Spamton leaned into him. Briefly, Tenna considered putting it off, carrying Spamton home and falling asleep just like this.

He decided to start with the easy questions.

"What time is it?"

Spamton shrugged. "EARLY."

"Right," said Tenna. "Okay." A beat. "Can you… see?"

Spamton tilted his head.

"You know, because of…" Tenna gestured vaguely to the two holes where his eyes used to be.

"MISSING MY [Dreamy~] [[peepers]] ALREADY?" He let out a humorless chuckle. "[It's Complicated]. THE EASY ANSWER IS [[yes]]."

Tenna nodded and took a deep breath. "Who was that? The thing that was trying to take you."

"A [[Friend]]," Spamton said. Tenna could feel he was tense, but after everything, he knew he had to push the issue. He deserved the truth, and Spamton had to believe that too.

"No, really Spamton. Who, or, or what was that?"

"…[idk]," and then because Tenna gave him a look, "I'M BEING [Honest Salesman]. IT'S FROM… [[beyond]]. I OnLY KNEW IT AS [[Friend]]."

"And it's the one that did this to you," Tenna said. It wasn't a question.

Spamton didn't reply. He didn't have to.

Tenna forced a chuckle and rubbed at the ports on the back of his head. "I suppose it's a good thing it didn't answer me when I picked up your phone."

"[Ding Ding Ding!] YOU GOT THAT RIGHT."

He seemed miffed about that. Tenna understood why.

"I'm sorry," he said, and then it was all spilling out at once. "I'm sorry I didn't go after you, I'm sorry I just let whatever happened happen, I'm sorry I couldn't have been better and chosen you instead of that darn phone."

"[CATHODE], IT'S FINE."

"No, it's not!" Tenna cried. He hugged himself and his claws dug into his arms. "I should have known, I did know something was wrong, and I didn't do anything."

"THERE WAS [Nothing to do? Try These]."

Tenna's screen blinked. It felt a little odd, but he ignored it. "What does that mean?"

Spamton hesitated. Tenna glared, somewhere between despair and frustration.

"Spammy, what does it mean? What happened to you? Why did that thing want to take you away? Why now, why you?! Why won't you tell me?"

They both breathed in the still air.

"…IT W4S [my fault]. OKAY? I MADE A [Stupid, Stupid!] DECISiON FOR A STUPID [[raisin]], AND NOW I'M [Paying with Cash or Card?] FOR IT AND [[url]] PAYING TOO. YOU DESERVE [Better] THAN ME."

Tenna winced. "Don't say that. Please, don't say that. You started talking to that thing because you needed sales, right? That's what you told me. That's not stupid at all."

"[[incorrect.buzzer]]. NOT THE [Decide Now!] I'M TALKING ABOUT."

"Then what…?"

All of this had started with that phonecall. He'd gotten that call right after Tenna gave him the contract. Tenna had asked Spamton for his secrets, he'd backed him into a corner and insisted that surely everything Tenna had given him was worth his strategy for success, and Spamton had agreed.

"No," Tenna said. The picture was getting clearer now.

Spamton wouldn't look at him. "IT WAS MY FAULT. I SIGNED THE [[Deal]]. I GNEW WHAT WOULD HAPPEN. AT LEAST, I [thought] I DID."

"Oh, oh no, no no no no…" Tenna did this to him. Tenna did this to him.

"[CRT]. [c]- ANT." Spamton grabbed the sides of Tenna's head, his eye sockets boring into Tenna's face. "IT WaS MY FAULT. [Mine! All Mine!]."

Tenna stared back, ignoring the chill that ran up his spine. "Why? If you knew, then why?"

"WHAT A [[100 points]] [Simple as Butterscotch Pie] ANSWER." Spamton stroked Tenna's cheek. "IT'S [because] I LOVE Y0U."

Those three little words- he said them so rarely, and they played through Tenna's scorched circuits like fingers on a harp making the most wonderful music. Yet, his heart sank.

Spamton leaned in then, whether to distract Tenna with a kiss or because he really meant it, and Tenna felt the world falling away as a burning line cut through him over and over again. The strings only led in one direction. He pulled back.

"Spamton, wait," he said. "There's… there's something you should know."

If he hadn't known his partner's mannerisms so well by now, he would've missed Spamton deflating slightly before straightening to hide his disappointment.

"WHAT, NOT INTO [[50% Off Creepy Haunted Dolls]]? I GET IT, I [unknown command] IF I EVEN HAVE [Lucious Lips] ANY[[more]]." He laughed, but it was forced.

Tenna shook his head. "No no, that's not it. It's… it's something your… Friend showed me. There's a prophecy, I didn't catch all of it but there was a part about… me."

Spamton drooped, and the subtle white noise of static he emitted got stronger as bits of him flaked away.

"[THE LORD OF SCREENS/CLEAVED RED BY BLADE]"

Tenna froze. Pain throbbed through his screen as sudden clarity struck.

"You knew?"

Spamton didn't face him.

"It told you."

He gave an almost imperceptible nod.

Tenna grit his teeth. "When?"

A few tense moments passed. "A [Long Long Time Ago]. BE[[4]] WE MET."

"And you came here anyway? To, what, wring me dry of everything I had to offer and then leave when I got unplugged?"

"IT'S NOT [[like]] THAT." Spamton seemed sad, but it was so hard to tell with that awful too-wide smile. "I CAME FOR [business or pleasure], AND I STAYED FOR [[You]]."

"But you knew. You knew I was going to die."

"I D1D. I [fell] FOR YOU ANYWAY."

There wasn't much Tenna could say to that. He huffed, his lip trembled as he tried to keep another round of tears back and he covered his mouth. This was too much. It was all too much.

"You could have told me," Tenna said. "About any of this. At the very least you could have told me you'd go against your other deal if you signed."

Spamton's joints creaked as he turned to fix on that distant point again. He pricked at the segments of his fingers.

"I WAS SCARED."

Tenna couldn't help a snort. "The unshakable Spamton G Spamton, admitting he's scared? That's one for the books, folks."

He withered a bit as Spamton slowly turned back. Tenna could imagine the half-lidded glare of indignation his partner would be giving him if he was still able.

"I'm sorry. I'm just surprised you said it, that's all."

The glare continued, then Spamton stiffened and tapped against the plasticky surface of his wrist.

"DO YOU WANT [The Truth]?"

Tenna sat up a little straighter and hid a wince. "Yes. You don't have to tell me everything, I don't… I'm not ready for everything. But yes. Please."

"…I THOUGHT I COULD [[break]] IT."

Tenna stared at him.

"I THOUGHT, IF I [Try Harder] ENOUGH, I COULD DEFY [fate] AND THE [Dialtone] AND STOP IT. I THOUGHT I COULD [[save]] YOU." He took a shuddering breath. "I WAS GOING TO [[Heaven]], ANT. I WAS GOING, AND I WANTED [2] BRING YOU WITH ME."

Spamton crumpled on himself and dragged a hand through his hair. "BUT NOW WE'RE BoTH [Stuck]."

He looked so small. The folded up salesman was a far cry from the Big Shot Tenna had come to know, but he was still the same little mailman. Up against the weight of the prophecy and the truth of their existence, everything looked small.

"At least," Tenna said, "we're both stuck together."

Spamton made a choked noise and bapped Tenna on the arm. "YOU [Authentic Tree Sap]. YOU'LL NEVER MAKE ANY [[BIG SALE]] B3ING [soft and cuddly] LIKE THAT."

Tenna nuzzled him. "Awww, you know you love it, though."

A bitcrushed sigh. "I DO."

"…Say it? Just one more time. Please?"

Spamton looked him right in the metaphorical eyes. "I LOVE YOU."

Tenna could have melted. Yesterday he'd been hopeless and alone, and now he was terrified nearly out of his wits but Spamton was here and still cared about him. A desperate, bubbly, fragile and warm feeling filled him like the last carbonation of a flat soda, and he lifted Spamton up to his chest again and peppered the top of his head with kisses. Spamton squawked and feebly tried to push him away.

"HEY, HEY!! EASY ON THE [Merchandise]!! I SPENT [[0.3 Hours]] ON THIS [new 'do]!! WOAH-"

Spamton flattened as Tenna rocketed up to his feet-

"Come on, let's get you- Yeowch!!"

-and then immediately doubled over as his body reminded him he was still very much injured.

"…[CATHODE]?"

"'mm fiiiiine," Tenna groaned. "Haha, just a little setback folks, a few good sips from our One-of-a-Kind TV Time Healing Spot (Patent Pending) should fix us both right up."

He started shuffling his way out of the backstage, Spamton perched on one arm and the other firmly planted on his twinging spine. Tenna glanced between the curtains as they passed, but nothing moved in a way it shouldn't. He shut the doors firmly behind him and let out a relieved exhale in the faint light of the S-rank room. His screen still felt funny, and he worried that it'd been cracked.

"We'll be taking a slight detour everyone," he said. "Just a quick pit stop to make sure my face is still in working order."

Spamton gripped his arm as Tenna made his way over to one of the smaller changing curtains. "ANT? [Ant Farm], WAIT A [[2nd]], I DON'T THINK THAT'S A [Great Idea!]."

"Why not? It can't be that bad, right?"

"YEAH, BUT I SHOULD [Warning! Product Contains Materials Hazardous To The Eyes]-"

Tenna swept aside the curtain and faced the mirror on the other side. Whatever hopeful expression he was wearing dropped and swirled down the drain.

Two distinct, shadowy lines were burned into the middle of his face. The edges of his screen were discolored and warped. None of the glass was cracked, thank goodness, but the casing on either side was.

"It's. It's not. That bad," he tried.

"COULD BE [A lot, lot worse]."

"I'll get used to it."

"YOU COULD [Look Like A] [[0 stars]] [Lost and Found] [$#@&!!] DOLL."

Spamton wasn't looking at himself. In fact, he'd turned his head completely around so he couldn't see the mirror at all.

"I'll get used to that, too," Tenna said. He gave Spamton a peck on the cheek if only to prove it.

Putting a smile on for his reflection didn't help their image much. A puppet and a broken TV, strung along by fate and always at the mercy of someone else.

A thought occurred to him.

"Do you know…" he said, then swallowed. "How much time do we have left?"

Spamton burried his face in Tenna's shoulder. "[It's a Mystery!]"

Tenna nodded, trying to stomach that uncertainty.

"There's a lot we still need to talk about," he said.

"MHM."

"You'll be honest with me, won't you?"

Spamton squirmed a little. "[[I owe you one]], D0N'T I?"

Neither of them spoke for a minute.

Maybe, if they'd gone their seperate ways, they would have grown to resent each other. They could have blamed the other for all their shortcomings and told the world how much better off they were alone without being able to hide that it was all a lie. Maybe they would have held on to that little kernel of hope and waited against all odds for the day they met again. Maybe it would have been too late.

"We'll have to get you a new suit," Tenna said. "Your measurements need to be redone, too."

Spamton scoffed. "DON'T [Kidding] YOURSELF ANT, I CAN'T [Special Guest Appearance] ON TV WITH THIS UGLY MUG."

"Sure you can! A little padding, a lot of makeup, a bit of editing in post, and I'm confident the audience will love you just the same. Ooh, how about a pair of snazzy new glasses to complete the look?"

"HMPH. I'LL TAKE ThE [Perscription Lenses], EVERYTHING IS [Too Bright!] ANYWAY."

Tenna swung the curtain closed and started off for the green room. "One pair of extra-strength sunglasses, coming right up! We can't have our star blinded by the spotlight, can we?"

As they approached the final door, soft voices filtered through. Tenna grimaced. Had some of the crew shown up already?

Spamton perked up, then buzzed with errors as he suddenly scrambled in Tenna's hold.

"[CATHODE], [CATHODE] YOU HAVE TO [Hide and Seek] ME, THEY CAN'T SEE ME LIKE THIS, THEY CAN'T [[know]]!!"

Tenna hissed as his partner crawled up onto his head. "Spamton, calm down! We have to explain it to them sooner or later, we might as well get it over with now."

"NO!! [No no no no no]!!!"

"Oh for the love of-" Tenna reached up, scruffed him, and held him in front of his face. Spamton hung bonelessly.

"If anyone says a word to you, if they so much as look at you wrong, I'll fire them. How's that?"

Part of Spamton's face glitched. "OK."

"Good. Let's do this."

He left Spamton to perch on his shoulder and put on as convincing of a smile as he could manage. Then, out the door they went.

There were only three crew members; a Zapper, a Shadowguy, and the green Pippins were huddled together and seemed to be deep in a conversation. They hadn't noticed Tenna just yet.

"I'm telling you, this is going to work. He won't even notice!"

[musical agreement]

"I dunno, dis still seems pretty sketchy ta me."

Tenna cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Clocking in early today?"

The pippins yelped and whipped around. "Boss! Hey, we weren't scheming or anything, we were just-!"

He went still and his eyes got very wide. The Shadowguy's jaw dropped. The Zapper started shaking.

Tenna's smile faltered. He could feel Spamton's grip on him tightening.

The pippins looked between the two of them as he grew increasingly more distressed, and then inhaled sharply.

"WHAT THE F-"

Technical Difficulties! TV Time will be Right Back…

~ ~ ~

Toriel sighed and pinched the bridge of her snout. Repairing the TV wasn't going to be cheap, especially with whatever damage the heat had done to the capacitors inside. It still seemed to work even though the screen had been affected. She collected herself and turned around to Kris, who was standing like a guilty puppy in the middle of the living room awaiting their punishment.

"This is why it's very important to turn off the TV when you're done with it, my child," she said. "If you leave it on all night again, it will overheat and break."

Kris nodded slowly to show they understood.

"I am sorry, but I will have to ground you from watching TV for the rest of the week," she said.

Kris frowned, but nodded again.

"Thank you. It will be good for you to spend more time away from that screen. You've been watching it so often these days, I worry sometimes."

She ruffled Kris' hair, then walked past them into the kitchen.

Kris waited for a moment, then tried to be inconspicuous as they leaned over and checked if Toriel was still looking. Confirming that she was busy now trying to get some of the hair out of the sink, they snapped a hand into their pocket and scurried up to the TV. Quick as lightning, they pulled out a bandaid and slapped it on one of the cracks in the CRT's casing, then spread their arms across the wide, warm glass and gave it a hug.

That done, they innocently trotted off and up the stairs to their room.