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It’s a relatively normal day, all things considered. Tenna is bossing the cast around, the Mikes have scattered throughout the building, Elnina and Lanino are arguing again.
It’s been a pretty normal day, except for one thing. Tenna has been extremely touchy for almost a month, and it’s starting to make Battat want to tear his skin off. He's been touchy even when Battat's not in his costume! Why would he do that!? He darts out of Tenna's way as the taller Darkner starts to lean to pick him up again. Eugh… He's picked up enough as it is. He doesn't need to be touched more. Tenna can save it for other pippinses or for later when he's Mike.
It could blow his cover if he keeps doing this, but at this point he couldn't care. It's overwhelming.
As soon as his shift is over, he bolts away from the stage and to the Mike Room. He enters the code knowingly and shuts the door behind him.
He hates being touched that much. It makes him want to explode.
He steps into the main area, Jongler gone for their shift, and sits on the couch next to Pluey. He leans against his side. He's cool to the touch, being made to shadow. Pluey croons out a note, wrapping his tail around Battat's leg loosely. See, this? This is nice. Battat trusts Pluey. He won't do more than he wants, and he can easily leave or ask him to stop. “...Thanks,” Battat mumbles. Pluey trills happily and goes back to watching the TV.
After a few seconds, Battat asks, “Has Tenna been acting weird around you?” Pluey looks at him and tips his head. “Has he been more touchy or grabby or whatever.” Pluey shakes his head. “What!?” That can't be right. “Are you sure? He's been so touchy lately! He keeps trying to grab me even when I'm not Mike!” Battat waves his arms as he speaks. Pluey shakes his head and shrugs, giving Battat an apologetic smile. He raises his hand to pat Battat's head but pauses for a go ahead. “Whatever,” Battat mutters. Pluey puts his hand back down.
Battat looks up at the clock above the TV. He’s got about twenty minutes until Jongler gets back from their Mike shift and he has to go out. Ugh, it doesn’t sound as appealing as usual. For once, he wants to go to bed. He stands up to go get ready for his own. Pluey complains as he gets up but doesn't move off the couch. “Stop complaining, I'll be back tonight,” Battat says. Pluey pouts. “You're so needy! It'll be okay!”
Pluey meows pathetically and Battat snorts. He puts on most of his costume, leaving off the gloves and his helmet. Pluey leans his head over the back of the couch, basically giving him puppy eyes, despite not having any. Battat huffs. He places his hand on the top of Pluey’s head between his ears. “There. All better.” Pluey jerks his head up to try to lick Battat’s palm but all that happens is that he gets himself stuck halfway off the back of the couch. Battat retreats. “Hey! See if I treat you to that again.” Pluey pouts. He flips himself over the couch and sulks towards the bedroom. “See you tonight,” Battat says. Pluey blows him a kiss. He rolls his eyes but dutifully catches it to place on his cheek. Pluey beams and skips into the bedroom.
Battat flicks the TV off and tidies up a bit. He could go to his board, but it's too much of a timesink right now. He's been scolded about it enough.
The door starts to open and Battat ducks behind the couch. Jongler hums as they close the door behind them. “Oh, it's just you,” Battat says, standing up.
Jongler laughs a little. “Jus’ me, boss.”
“Don't laugh at me!” Battat says, waving his arms. He snatches his gloves off the table, pouting. As he puts them on, he asks Jongler, “Has Tenna been acting weird around you?”
Jongler hums, shrugging their jacket off. “Not really.”
That can’t be right! Pluey gave him the same answer, but it can’t be right! Tenna’s been more touchy around Battat. Picking him up more often, setting him on his lap as he works on the script, rubbing his antennae against him when he stands on Tenna’s workdesk or vanity. It’s probably nothing? Tenna does weird things sometimes. Being touchy isn't technically a problem. Battat hates it, but he has to keep Tenna happy.
“See you tonight,” Battat says.
“Have a good shift. Love ya.” Jongler bops their head against his forehead.
“Goodbye, Jongler,” Battat says, trying and failing to hide a smile. He puts his helmet on as Jongler chuckles. They usher him out, the door to the Mike Room clicking shut as Battat walks away.
Surprisingly, Tenna doesn't need much done. At least, it doesn't seem like it. Battat still has regular things he needs to do. Move the stage lights, make sure the sound system is working, help the zappers keep the other pippinses in order.
It's tiring, but it's his job.
After the show wraps up for the evening, Battat checks in with the stage crew before moving on to organize script papers. He likes this part. He can basically turn his brain off and go by instinct. Sorting, sorting, sor-
The door opens suddenly.
Battat jumps, looking up at Tenna. He stares at Battat without eyes, hands behind his back with an otherwise unreadable expression. “Sorry, sir,” Battat says. “You startled me.”
Tenna doesn't answer. He just stares at Battat.
“Sir?” Battat says nervously. He gets off his chair, walking up to Tenna and placing a hand on his legs. “Are you alright?” Tenna abruptly moves that leg and Battat scrambles back so he doesn't get kicked. “Careful!” he complains.
Tenna, again, doesn't answer, but he smiles for a moment, fangs reflecting the light of Battat's lamp. He licks his lips.
“...Are you hungry?” Battat says. “I'll get you some food.” He starts walking towards the door.
Tenna blocks his way surprisingly efficiently. He does succeed in kicking Battat away from the door, knocking him over.
Why hasn't he said anything? This is weirder than normal. “Boss, I need to get past you.” Battat stands back up in the middle of the room. Tenna grows bigger, leaning down. He stalks forward like a predator. Battat steps back nervously. Drool drips out one side of his mouth and his antennae are tipped towards him. “...Sir?” he says. Tenna lunges, lifting him up and pinning him to the wall in one smooth motion. “A-ah!”
Tenna brushes his antennae across Battat's costume. Battat squirms, trying to get down. “H-hey, this isn't very-” Tenna opens his mouth and Battat's breath catches, choking his sentence off. He stares at him with wide eyes. Tenna’s mouth glistens with saliva, shining just as bright as the rest of his face. Tenna wraps his teeth around his torso, poking him through the costume. Battat's legs dangle out of his mouth as he straightens. Battat presses down on Tenna's tongue, claws pricking through his gloves, and blinks spots out of his eyes. The static from the glass makes his head hurt. Saliva coats his body. “Tenna!” he yells.
Tenna licks Battat over like a candy and hums. He sounds disappointed. Battat struggles, pinned in place. He kicks the frame of Tenna’s face. Tenna bites down harder. Battat gasps at the feeling of the needlesharp fangs jabbing into him, effortlessly piercing through every layer of his costume. Tenna could bite him in half without trying. He forces himself to go limp to try to stop him from biting down again. Tenna huffs. His breath is hot from the heaters that keep him functional. He licks Battat again and rocks him side to side for a moment.
Then he swallows.
He swallows!? He's not even going to kill him first!?
His throat is tight. It squeezes Battat on every side. The light dims as he descends. He stops with his body squished in Tenna's throat and his legs in his mouth. He kicks his legs, slamming his feet into the roof of Tenna's mouth. Tenna pins them to the top of his mouth with his tongue. He tips his head back and swallows again. It sends Battat down. Down, down, down. He arrives at the stomach with a splash. He lands on his face, his legs following him shortly after. He turns over so he rests on his back. It's dark and quiet. The soft hum of Tenna's heaters muffle any outside noise. Battat's breathing quickens. No one would be able to hear him either. He pushes the walls outward.
Tenna hums, satisfied, but Battat doesn't hear it over the ringing in his ears and the sudden growling of the stomach. Did he do something wrong? Did Tenna find out they were fakes? Is this his punishment?
Is this what happened to Mike?
He starts struggling. “Let me out,” he pleads, dropping his Mike voice. “I… I'll stop! I'll leave! Don't… Don't keep me in here! Please!” A sob chokes out of his throat. “Please…”
The only reply he gets is a hiccup.
Tenna starts walking. The liquid pooled at the bottom of the stomach splashes over Battat. He sputters, sitting up. He yanks his helmet off, taking deep breaths. This is getting nowhere. Either Tenna can't hear him or he's ignoring him.
…He doesn't know which he hates more, because he likes neither.
Battat stops fighting. It's no use. He looks around, holding his helmet to his chest like it can give him comfort. It's dark, almost pitch black. Small lights blink on and off on the other side of the deep purple stomach walls. The heaters that keep Tenna running cause it to be a warm, but not scorching, temperature. They hum quietly, a gentle white noise. Slime and saliva coat his costume, liquid pooling around his waist. It stings where it seeps through the holes Tenna made in his costume. Battat shifts, moving to sit as far away from the liquid as he can. He doesn't sit there long. The stomach walls, a soft fabric of some sort instead of the smooth glass of Tenna's mouth, push him back towards the center. They massage him gently, rumbling. He pushes his hands against them, shuddering.
His skin prickles, but he's not sure if it's because he’s soaked or because of the touch. It's too much touch. He feels like he's going to throw up, or that he should tear his skin off with his costume.
Tenna continues walking, the movement rocking everything inside back and forth. Battat buries his face in his hands, covering it in slime. The stomach gurgles around him, pressing on his sides. He takes a deep breath, shaking. It's… It's all just a bad dream! He's going to wake up in bed with Jongler squeezing him way too tight. For… For the first time in months. Mistakes can happen! He'll wiggle out of their arms then tell them not to worry about the dream. They and Pluey will force him to tell them anyway. It will-
Tenna's stomach growls.
“There's no getting out of it this time,” Battat whispers to himself. “This is it.” He feels a bit lightheaded. He might pass out.
Gravity shifts a full ninety degrees as Tenna does something. Battat tips forward, faceplanting in the slime again, losing his grip on his helmet. He rolls over, lying down. The liquid laps against his shoulders. The fabric squishes beneath his head. He pushes outward with his arms. “Tenna?”
Something big and heavy is set on top of him. Battat flinches, wiggling beneath the pressure. It moves up and down and around- Is Tenna rubbing his stomach? Battat kicks his legs, shoving at Tenna's hand. The Boss Darkner hiccups. He pats Battat a few times before settling his hand over him. He lets out a satisfied sigh.
That's what he thinks of Battat. He's a satisfying meal, and not one of his best friends. There's nothing else he could be in this situation. Battat feels sick at the thought. He starts moving again. Anything to get out.
Tenna presses down on him as soon as he starts, stopping him easily. He lets out a burp. His stomach blurbles, squishing Battat. He moves his hand once Battat stops trying to move, giving the pippins room to breathe.
Battat tries to catch his breath. He presses his hands outward, moving the stomach walls. The material squishes beneath his fingers. Tenna hums, putting his hand back on him. Without warning, he says, “You always say you'll do anything for me.” His voice is muffled, but loud.
Battat does. But he didn't mean getting eaten alive! That feels like a step too far! “I… I didn't mean this…” He feels uncharacteristically sleepy. He kicks his legs, but it's more of a tired stretch. Tenna traces a shape over Battat. Battat's arms shake before falling to his side. He whines, pulling his arms to his chest.
Tenna laughs a little, setting his hand down again. It rubs up and down. Battat's too tired to fight. “Why would you say that? I've been told it's nice! I missed this feeling so much.”
“...I… I don’t want to be in here…” Battat says. The stomach gurgles around him, likely muffling his answer. He barely registers that Tenna is responding to him now, unlike when he was pleading earlier.
“Of course you do!” Tenna says. He says it like it’s a simple fact. “It’s warm and soft, and you’re MINE.” The heat spikes for a moment and Battat shudders. “All mine!”
“...I don’ wanna die,” Battat slurs, eyes fluttering shut.
If Tenna says anything else, it’s distant and indistinct. Sleep comes for him unnaturally quick, and he knows nothing at all.
~~~~~
Battat wakes up shivering. He sits up with a gasp. He grips at his chest, expecting to grab at his Mike costume. Instead, he grabs a handful of his poncho. He looks down at the damp fabric in his hand, confused. Was it a dream? It felt so real.
“You're up!” Battat jumps, poncho falling from his grip, and looks up at Tenna. The TV smiles wide, no fangs in view. “I was getting worried.”
Battat looks around, bewildered. He's in Tenna's room, lying on his pillows. His clothes are soaked, making him shiver. A blanket covers his legs. “...What?”
“Do you need anything? Some food, a drink? I can get it all for you!” Battat stares up at Tenna. What is happening. Tenna frowns, antennae drooping. “Mike?”
With a jolt, Battat notices his Mike costume hanging on the wall. It’s just as soaked as he is. “What!?” He did know! Was this supposed to be a threat!? It was a horrifying one!
Tenna follows his gaze. “Oh- your costume. I thought you'd be more comfortable without it! I can't have you catching a cold!”
Battat shakes his head to spin it. Four. Other than the rush, everything in the room stays exactly the same. “What!? How long have you known!?”
“A few months,” Tenna says absently.
“A few- And you didn't tell us!?”
Despite not having eyes, Tenna manages to give Battat a look like a kicked puppy. “...What if you left?”
“What if we-!?” Battat sputters. He gestures at himself and then at Tenna's torso. “And you thought this would help!?”
“The mailma-”
“I'm sorry, but this isn't about the mailman! He has nothing to do with this!” Battat yells, flailing his arms. “I thought you were going to kill me!”
Tenna shrinks, drooping. “Oh… You didn’t like it.”
“No! How would that be okay!?"
“Well, I just thought…” Tenna trails off, shrinking more. An embarrassed blush spreads across his screen.
Battat squints at him. Did he… Did he like what just happened? Did he enjoy eating Battat and trapping him in his stomach? That’s crazy. Battat works for an insane man. He should move to another Dark World where his boss won’t eat him. Battat sighs to himself. He can't leave. Someone has to stick around and keep Tenna in check, and he's the best at it. “Don't do that again.”
Tenna gasps, looking directly at Battat. “You're not leaving me?”
Oh boy. “DON'T do that again,” he repeats. “You're lucky I'm not.”
Tenna grows gigantic, spreading his arms. He beams. “Oh, Mike, I'm so happy!”
Battat frowns. Tenna doesn't even seem to know his name, and he thought Battat would be happy about this. “That's not my name. After this-” He gestures at himself and his wet clothes again. “-you should at least call me by my name.”
“...Oh.” Tenna shrinks a bit. “I don't know your name.”
That was obvious. “Battat.”
“Battat! What a good name!”
It really isn't. “Whatever.” Battat shivers. “Are you going to trap me again or can I leave? I'm freezing.”
“Oh, you're…?”
Battat closes his eyes, letting out a frustrated hiss. Through gritted teeth, he says, “I'm going. To my apartment. To change.” He can't even catch a break after being eaten alive.
He wants to go home. He wants to see his partners. He wants to…
…He needs to get out of here.
“Right! Right, of course.” Tenna picks him up, ignoring his protests, and sets him on the floor. “I will see you later, Mi- Battat!”
Battat walks as calmly as he can out of the door. As soon as it's shut, he bolts towards the Mike Room. He inserts the code quickly and slams it closed behind him. He leans his back against the wall, sliding down to the floor. He covers his face with his hands, shaking. Tenna ate him. He was trapped. He could’ve died, and Pluey and Jongler would’ve never known what happened to him. He was… He…
…The mailman!? Tenna ate him then immediately brought up the mailman!? Battat didn't even prompt him about it, he just said it! Did they do it often!? Battat couldn't bear it a second time. And surely the mailman would have asked about it before it happened? Battat has heard enough about the man to know he wasn't the most… Stable person. He did dangerous and reckless things. Tenna eating him wouldn't have been something he would argue against. But it had to have been inconvenient and a waste of time! It couldn't have been something they did all the time! It's certainly not something Battat wants to experience again!
“Boss?” Battat's head snaps up and he stares at Jongler and Pluey. A choked sob wrenches its way out of his throat and he reaches out towards the two. Pluey whistles in concern and Jongler leans down to put their hand on his shoulder. Battat lurches forward and wraps his arms around their neck. Jongler pauses at the unexpected touch. They wrap their arms around him and lift him up. Tears start to drip from his eyes at the familiar feeling. He buries his face in their shoulder. “...Battat?”
“Don't put me down,” Battat somehow manages to choke out, wrapping his arms tighter. “D-don’t put me down.” Their warmth is different from the stomach he was just trapped in. It's comfortable, and familiar, and he knows they will never hurt him.
Pluey warbles, worried, and places a hand on his back. Battat would never say that in normal circumstances. “Are ya okay, boss?” Jongler says. “You're soakin’ wet.”
“Mmm.” He presses his face closer to them. “Tenna knows.”
“He knows? How's long’s he known?”
“...A while.”
“Did he hurt ya? Is that why yer wet?”
“I don't...” Absently, he turns his head to look down. There's pinprick holes in his clothes and he can feel bruising where Tenna bit him. “...Oh.”
“C'mon, let's getcha into something more comfortable,” Jongler says.
“Mhm,” Battat agrees absently. He lets his partners carry him to the bathroom, starting to fight once they touch his bare skin under his shirt. It hurts. It's too much. Stop stop stop. They leave the rest to him. Washing with cold water, he dresses in dry clothes. He returns to his partners. He stares at the ceiling, not touching either but appreciating their company. They'll have to discuss this later, both between each other and with Tenna, but for now Battat lies between Jongler and Pluey.
Alive, loved, and free.