Archive of Our Own ^beta

Tenna woke the same way he always did slowly, joints clicking one by as he stretched  like old typewriter keys warming back up. Habit made him pat around the bed before he even turned on his screen just a careful sweep of his palm across the sheets, checking every spot Spamton usually burrowed into. Once early on when Spamton had just started to sleep in the bed beside him, he rolled in his sleep without thinking.  Suddenly there’d been a very small Addison wheezing under several hundred extra pounds of solid television.

A few seconds didn’t collapse his lungs or crack his casing, but the sound of it had burned itself straight into Tenna’s circuitry.
He didn’t have eyes, but touch never lied.
Tenna stretched one leg out, toes brushing the folded quilt at the end of the bed. He gave it a light nudge more of a question than a kick, just enough to see if something small and stubborn would wriggle in protest.
He paused, letting his hand drift across the space near his ribs, Spamton had taken to sleeping pressed against his side lately. A new habit, picked up after a string of particularly bad nights. Tenna didn’t mind at all, actually he loved it. Half the time, he pretended to still be asleep just so he could feel Spamton scoot closer without embarrassment.
He brushed along that spot now slow and gentle feeling nothing but the smooth cotton of the bed sheets.
Tenna frowned. “Hey” he said softly. “Where’d you go?”
He reached toward the pillow near his own head, that was Spamton’s “official” spot nowadays, though he rarely stayed there. Tenna’s huge hand hovered, then patted gently around the edges. The faint outline where he usually curled had already faded.
Tenna sighed, slow and soft. Sleep tugged at him again. Spamton moved around at night sometimes.

That was normal. That was...okay.
Tenna rolled onto his back, settling in again. The mattress dipped with his weight, creaking as if it were also too tired to argue. His antennae relaxed against the pillow as he patted  around just one more time, just in case.
Tenna huffed a tiny, resigned sound.

"He’ll crawl back in a minute.” he murmured to himself as he pulled the blanket up a little, settling deeper into the mattress, and let his systems drift back into a light dozing.
Spamton wandered at night in a few different ways, and Tenna knew them all.
Sometimes he was fully awake, skipping out to the bathroom, grabbing a late snack, running warm water over his hands when his seams ached or his head buzzed too loud. Those nights came with commentary. Complaints. A shouted “I’m up, don’t [Ringing Alarm Bells]" tossed over his shoulder like Tenna was the unreasonable one.

Other times, he drifted half asleep. Not gone  just loose. He’d wander through the house, settle somewhere strange, maybe fall asleep again on a windowsill or the bathtub. In the morning he usually remembered it the way you remembered a dream, a bit fuzzy around the edges, but real enough. He’d crawl back into bed eventually, muttering about sore joints and stupid instincts.

There were nights that worried Tenna more than others. Those had been common once, back when Spamton lived in the trash when he could lose whole stretches of time without noticing, wake up somewhere cold or dangerous and just...keep going. Those didn’t happen much anymore. He had worked very hard to make sure of that.
But knowing they could still happen was enough to make something cold settle in his chest. The quiet night stretched on and Tenna let his systems drift but they didn’t settle. Spamton never stayed gone this long without making noise about it.

Tenna’s processors finally caught up to his body that small, instinctive prickle crept down the back of his spine.

He hadn’t heard anything.

Usually there was something, even asleep Spamton wasn’t quiet. He clicked. He twitched. He made soft, grumpy little growls whenever a blanket edge tickled his nose.
He angled his antennae toward the bathroom first, scanning for the low hum of the vent fan Spamton sometimes turned on during midnight wanderings.
"Spammy?" Tenna called, quiet and careful. His fingers flexed unconsciously.

Tenna’s chest tightened as he pushed himself upright

"Okay–alright. Just gonna... I'm going to check. Just in case" 
The soft buzz of his display lit the hallway just enough to catch the edge of the wall and the dark mouth of the rooms beyond.
Spamton? he called quiet and gentle, the way you’d call into a cave you hoped was empty
He angled one antenna forward, listening.
Tenna’s jaw tightened. Spamton was small now, and quieter than he used to be, his joints properly oiled so he moved without a sound. And the thought of him wandering half conscious through dark rooms without even the faint glow his feathers used to give off
Well Tenna didn’t like the thought of it one bit. He eased the bathroom door open, letting his screen cast a pale sweep of light across the tiles. Everything looked untouched the sink dry, the counter clean, the air still and cool from hours of disuse.
Next, he stepped into the kitchen, letting the soft glow of his screen wash over the counters, the sink, the cluttered spice shelf, and the little stool Spamton used to climb when he wanted something from the higher cabinets. Everything looked perfectly ordinary at first glance.
Nothing knocked over, no signs of distress, no faint breathing tucked in any corner. He even crouched to check the lower cabinets, pulling each door open with careful, quiet movements, but they were all empty.

Tenna moved to the hall closet next, easing the door open with the same careful reverence he’d use stepping into a quiet chapel, the hinge whispering softly as if even it understood the rules of this space. His screen light spilled over the small, familiar hollow inside, illuminating Spamton’s nest where it rested in the corner like something something that had grown there naturally rather than been placed. Soft towels lined the base, folded and refolded until their edges blurred together, scrap fabric layered on top in mismatched colors and textures, two pillows curved into a crooked donut that left a shallow depression in the center where a small body fit exactly. It wasn’t neat by any means but it was intentional, every piece chosen and arranged with care, adjusted over weeks until it held shape the way Spamton needed it to.
It always made something warm flicker in Tenna’s chest, that sight. Pride? Maybe relief, at least it was a proof of progress. When Spamton had first come back into his life, there had been no nest at all, just restless pacing, collapsing wherever exhaustion overtook him, curling up in places that made Tenna’s processors scream because they were too exposed, too hard, too reminiscent of places no one should ever had to believe was suitable for rest. The nest had come later, after regular meals, after clean clothes, after showers that didn’t leave him shaking and dissociated, after his body slowly remembered what it felt like not to be freezing.

 It took a while but he was no longer malnourished and  running on fumes and panic alone, his joints repaired as much as they ever could be, his systems stabilized enough that he could sleep without jolting awake every hour, convinced he’d lost something again.

Healing hadn’t erased the damage that was done, nothing ever would.
But it had given him enough back that his instincts had begun to surface on their own, cautious and tentative, like an animal testing whether the ground beneath it would hold.

Spamton felt safe enough to claim space without asking, to build something meant to last more than a night, to rest somewhere that wasn’t chosen out of desperation. Tenna had never suggested it. He’d simply noticed one morning that the towels were stacked differently, that Spamton had stafted bringing more things back from his collections he had stached around town. Ralsei hadn’t meant to overlook him. It just hadn’t occurred to him that Spamton ever needed a place.  When you were used to seeing someone as an object in the party. Something that could be picked up, moved and swapped when convenient, the idea of them needing a home at some point didn’t come naturally.
Spamton had started retreating here like it was his own room, a quiet and controlled place. And that more than anything, was why Tenna had given him the closet without hesitation.

At one point Spamton’s entire world had been a dumpster with a single salvaged pillow buried in trash, a nest made of rot and necessity because there had been no other option. Years ago Tenna had promised him everything. Togetherness, safety, a future big enough for both of them.

And he pushed him toward a contract he knew would destroy him, convinced in his own terrible certainty that he could fix whatever broke afterward. Tenna had wanted it all the success, the partnership, the control, the assurance that no one would ever leave him again. He had believed both selfishly and arrogantly, that love and regret could undo any consequence, that he could simply reach out after and pull Spamton back up whole.
He had been wrong and nothing he did afterward would change who paid the price.
Tenna didn’t let himself think the words often he didn’t let himself say them out loud. But the knowledge lived in him anyway, threaded through everything he touched. It was an unspoken apology repeated every day.
'You can take up space here, you can hide if you need to, you can build something that belongs to you and no one will take it away.'
Tenna had learned far too late, what it meant to respect autonomy, and now he honored it in silence, even when every instinct in him screamed to hover, to fix, to pull tighter.
Seeing the nest undisturbed should have reassured him.

It should have meant Spamton was nearby, he was tucked away in some other quiet corner of the home. But it only hollowed him out, the unease in his circuits tightening another notch as he stared at the empty depression in the pillows. Tenna let out a slow breath, fingers curling reflexively against the doorframe as guilt and fear tangled together in his chest, indistinguishable from one another.

"Not here either..." he whispered, the words barely leaving his speakers, because even now, even after everything, the thought of Spamton being alone somewhere dark felt like punishment he deserved more than Spamton ever had.

He moved on, retracing his steps through the house with growing unease. He swept the bedroom again, checking the corners, the shadows beneath the nightstand, lifting the blanket checking the shallow dip where Spamton sometimes burrowed back under and drifted off again. He crossed into the laundry room next, the faint scent of detergent mixing with the cold tile as he nudged aside the hamper with one foot.
He checked the washer, then the dryer, opening each just long enough to confirm they were empty.
He checked under the kitchen table, crouching low enough that his screen reflected off the polished floor, then pushed aside the blanket draped over the back of the couch to peer behind it.

Every familiar hiding spot was empty, every place Spamton had ended up during past nights stayed stubbornly and unsettlingly vacant. Even the high cabinet he’d once found Spamton curled inside, after a particularly bad night of sleepwalking, sat dark and undisturbed. One room after another, every space he checked came up the same.
Tenna paused at the front door longer than he wanted to admit, one hand braced against the frame.
Spamton didn’t leave without warning.
That was the rule. One of the first ones they’d made together, even if they’d never said it out loud.If he ever needed to leave for air, space or even one of his odd little night time errands he said so. Sometimes he even narrated the entire decision like Tenna was a courtroom he had to convince...at least a note. Writing was harder for him nowadays. His puppet hands didn’t obey the way they used to, the lines wobbling and breaking under the constant static in him. The words came out crooked and half tilted, spaced unevenly where he’d lingered, careful with keywords in a way that felt intentional.
But he always left a drawing. Spamton had always loved to draw, and when he could sit long enough to calm his hands, the lines came out clean and confident, just like before. He didn’t always draw the same thing or even with the same amount of effort. Sometimes it was a wobbly star or a heart, sometimes flowers or strange little symbols that felt more like punctuation than pictures. There were doodles of himself, quick little exaggerated things, and on rare occasions, a careful sketch of Tenna. And once only once he left behind a cat with too many legs.

There was no note this time.The door was unlocked, like it always was. They didn’t lock it. They had never thought they needed to, not many people did in Castle Town.
Tenna stared at it, chest humming low with unease. Spamton wouldn’t need to force it. Wouldn’t need to decide anything. One wrong turn and he’d be outside before his system caught up.
He opened it with the gentlest push of his fingertips, letting the crisp night air slide in around his ankles.
His screen glow spilled across the porch like a searchlight stretching into the dark He scanned the concrete, the railing, the small patch of grass.

The thoughts crept in, unwanted and sharp. What if he’d just finished using the space? Finished resting. Finished healing. Taken what he needed and slipped out quietly...
Tenna had offered him safety and warmth, a bed and the quiet promise of no questions. And Spamton had accepted it, what if that was all it was to him? Something to use while it lasted, a small, private victory in leaving first? He had learned early that you didn’t wait for things to be taken away. You took them while they were still yours.

His hand slid down the door, fingers trembling. He hated how easy the thought was to believe, how neatly it fit into every place he still felt hollow.

He shut the door and immediately doubled back through the house, any lingering caution gone. He moved fast now, pulling cabinets open, yanking drawers out, sweeping blankets aside as he searched.
"Spamton?" he called, the name slipping out sharper than he meant it to.

Tenna stopped in the middle of the living room, breath coming too fast.
"No. No oh no...this isn't helping"

There was nowhere left inside. He knew that now, the certainty settling heavy and sick in his chest. His screen brightened a notch as adrenaline spiked, light spilling too harsh across the walls.

"Okay! okay." he rattled off, spinning in place like his body didn’t know which direction fear lived in. His hands flexed uselessly at his sides, fingers trembling.

"No. No, he’s fine. He’s just–just sitting somewhere That’s all."

A thin, breathless laugh slipped out of him, brittle and wrong. He shook his head hard, like he could rattle the thought loose.
God, listen to yourself,he whispered, voice pitching. "Why are you even why...why are you talking–"His words snapped off.
Tenna coiled his tail tight, antennae twitching low as if scolding him for the lapse. He dragged a hand down his face and forced himself to stillness, grounding his breath and his thoughts.
Stop. Focus.
Tenna swore under his breath sharp and sudden, the kind of word he avoided because once he started, it meant things were already slipping.
The thought shoved him toward the door before he could second-guess it. He stopped short, glanced down at himself, and felt the irritation spike.
Boxers...Slippers.
"Oh! for ffffuck's sake!"  Tenna snapped, already turning back toward the bedroom, steps too fast, nearly skidding on the rug as he crossed the threshold. The room felt smaller now, it just felt wrong. His head was buzzing so loud it made his internal wires whine.
Tenna yanked open a drawer and He grabbed the first pair of pants he saw and nearly tore them in half trying to get them on.
His fingers shook, the button slipping stubbornly out of his grasp.
"No NO come on!"he hissed, fumbling with clumsy hands. The button slipped again, his breath catching with it.

"Why–why won’t you His voice cracked. This is " his voice was tight as heat built behind his screen

His voice was tight as heat built behind his screen. "This is so stupid. Get it together."

The button slipped from his grasp again.
He let out a sound somewhere between a growl and a sob. "Oh, forget it!"

He yanked the pants off, flung them onto the bed, and snatched up something else, looser, softer, barely coordinated. He didn’t care. He didn’t have time to care.

He was halfway through dragging a shirt over his head when something on the bedside table caught the light of his screen.
Spamton’s glasses. Folded neatly. Exactly where they were supposed to be.

Tenna’s breath punched out of him. "Oh! oh thank the stars."

Relief hit him so hard his knees nearly buckled. He staggered forward and sagged against the bedframe, one hand braced there like the room might tilt without him. His screen dimmed, glow flickering unevenly as he sucked in a shaky breath.
Thank you, he whispered  not to anyone in particular.

The glasses stared back at him, clean tinted glass catching the faint pink glow of his screen.
Spamton didn’t need them to see. But spamton wouldn’t leave without them.
He lived in a body that was not the one he’d been born into, bones replaced, face fixed, expression trapped behind paint and springs. An inherited body that never quite felt like his, no matter how long he’d worn it.
The glasses were the one thing he still controlled. The way the world met his eyes the way he met himself.
Spamton was learning slowly and painfully, to like himself the way he was now. To live inside what he’d become without hating every inch of it.

Tenna reached out and picked them up with aching care, thumb brushing the frame like a promise. His chest still hurt, but the shape of the fear had changed now.
He turned automatically, reaching for the tote bag by the door  the one he always grabbed when they went out together.
It usually held whatever odd treasures Spamton had claimed that day. Cracked glass, screws and nails, things no one else saw value in...and sometimes a puppet whose legs tapped out before his brain did.
His fingers curled around the strap.
"No." he said quietly, forcing himself to let go
"Focus."

He stepped back, shook it off, and moved for the door again.
Outside, the air was cool enough to bite. Tenna paused on the threshold
"Star?"
He walked, slow at first, checking the places Spamton gravitated toward without even realizing it. The low wall near the bakery where he liked to sit and pick at the crumbling brick. The lamppost with the flickering bulb Spamton insisted was “almost charming.” The narrow alley that smelled faintly of dust.
Tenna crouched, peered behind walls, checked shadows twice. He checked the steps, the edges of doorways where someone small might tuck themselves away.

The town opened up around him, the space growing wider, emptier, until Tenna found himself standing alone in the middle of an open square. Lanterns flickered. The night hummed softly. Everything felt too big.
Tenna stopped hands curled into fists, then loosening again. His breathing came a little too fast.
"Okay." he whispered, voice thin. "Okay. Just– just think. You can think."
He exhaled slowly, shoulders rising and falling as he forced his thoughts into something usable. He turned in a slow circle, scanning the open area again.
Lamp posts, rooftops, the edges of buildings where shadow pooled thicker.

"Uee hee!"

The sound burst out from behind him. Tenna flinched hard enough that one antenna crinkled sideways, its tip wobbling as his screen flashed brighter in reflex.
"Oh!"
He spun, hand half raised before his brain caught up. "Jeez!"

A round shape hung upside down like a bat from the nearest lamp post, tail hooked around the metal. Bells chimed softly as Jevil swayed back and forth, hands clasped behind his head, grinning like he’d been waiting all night.

"Tenna! Tenna! What are you doing out here all alone?"

Tenna stared for a second too long, core still surging "...Oh" he said finally, tension leaking out of him in a rush. "It’s just you"

Jevil gasped "Only me?" he laughed, delighted. 

Tenna dragged a hand down his face, antenna still crooked despite himself.

"You me."

"That was the idea yes yes" Jevil said cheerfully. He let go of the lamp post and dropped only to land lightly on the stone, springing upright with a flourish.

He circled Tenna once, peering up at him with exaggerated curiosity.

"Round and round and round we go, they chimed, hopping backward, but where’s the one who walks too slow?"
He leaned back on his heels, head cocked as he looked Tenna up and down
"Where is your little little duckling?"

"Hey! absolutely not. Do not call him that. He’s not some... he's not a lost little thing trailing after me, okay? He knows where he’s going."

Tenna exhaled, dragging a hand down the front of his screen as if he could physically wipe the comment away. His tail twitched, irritation sharp but defensive, the kind that came from being cornered rather than truly angry.

"He’s not following me around, he said, a little too quickly. We just-we go places together. That’s all. That's normal."
The word landed heavier than he meant it to. Normal. As if saying it aloud could make it settle into place, could sand down the edges of how rarely they were apart, how instinctively his steps slowed to match Spamton’s, how easily he folded the habit into normalcy, how quickly he stopped noticing it at all.
Couples went places together. That was all this was, nothing strange, nothing worth commenting on.   
And yet even Tenna could feel how thin the justification sounded.

Jevil’s grin widened, sharp and knowing.
"You’re spinning quiet without your echo."

One antenna twitched hard enough to bend sideways, the snap of it giving away what would’ve been an eye twitch on anyone else.
Tenna’s hand curled slowly at his side, deliberate, measured.

"Would you This does not involve you."

"Oh!" Jevil clapped a hand to his cheek.
"Big screen, big sound!  I was only playing playing!" he said, bells chiming as he lifted both hands.
"No need to shake the whole board!"

Tenna drew himself up, shoulders tense. "Have you seen him anywhere?" The question cracked despite his effort, worry bleeding through the edge of his voice.

"Ohhh, hide and seek! Jevil clapped again, delighted. I love that game!"
But his tone shifted, just a little.
"Strange thing, he hummed, rocking on his heels. You’re always glued, you two. Screen and string."

"Now don’t you dare." Tenna’s voice spiked, too loud, too fast. "You don’t get to frame this like it’s some little parable."
He took a step forward before catching himself.

"Maybe when the glue loosens, the pieces don’t know where to land."

"Watch your metaphors" he said, voice low. "You’re not clever enough to aim them at him."

Jevil only grinned wider. "Oho, touched a wire!" They chimed, bells ticking softly.
"Maybe he skipped the sparks before they started flying."

Tenna didn’t answer right away. instead, he turned. Stone scraped under his finger as he started down the street, shoulders tight, tail snapping once behind him like a warning shot.

"Don’t." he snarled without looking back. "Don’t you talk about him like that.
You don’t know him." Tenna went on, voice low and sharp, the words clipped like he was cutting them free with his teeth.

"You don’t know how he thinks. You don’t know what scares him. And you don’t get to pretend you do just because you like the sound of your own riddles... so you can just you can just ....go pick a different

"

For a moment, it sounded like he meant it.
But the soft footsteps crept up behind him, jester light and wrong, moseying along easily keeping pace.

Jevil skipped alongside him, hands clasped behind their back, grin never wavering.
"Ohhh, come on!" he laughed. "You can’t storm off after that! That’s the best best part!"
Tenna stopped so abruptly Jevil nearly bumped into him.
They blinked a few times then raised both hands at once, bells chiming.
"Hey! hey no tricks no slips tonight!" he said quickly. "I'm swearing on my bells."

Tenna inhaled, slow and deliberate, like he was holding himself together by force.
He didn’t run, he said. You’re making it sound dramatic.
He waved one hand, dismissive. "He gets disoriented sometimes. It’s just a startup issue. He wanders until things settle down.
His tone hardened That’s not...It's not fleeing. That’s just a glitch." 

Jevil tilted his head, interest clicking into place.
"He’s never gone this far before" Tenna added, quieter. "Not outside the house."

Something in Jevil’s stance softened.
"Once I had a friend friend, he said, voice suddenly lighter, distant We laughed! We did! in the same halls. Then I dash dashed ahead" Jevil continued, almost cheerfully. "And the door it shut with a BANG behind behind ME!"
They sprang up in a smooth motion, hopping on his tail until he hovered level with Tenna’s screen.
"Kee hee hee funny funny I didn’t GO anywhere. But EVERYONE they said I had GONE too far far far"
They shrugged, dropping back down to the stone path. "Ha! CHAOS You DON'T need footsteps to get lost, lost in."

Tenna’s shoulders sagged, just a fraction. The fight bled out of him all at once, leaving something smaller behind.
"I just want him safe, he said quietly. I don’t want him lost out here."
Jevil’s smile turned sideways "Freedom’s funny!" he sang.
"It bends and snaps and spins around.
Some chase it till it bites them back.
Some sit still till they’re found."

A soft laugh slipped out of him, bells chiming in punctuation. "Guess which one your little pal is? I NEVER go away! I spin! I dance! But he?

He goes silent and waits for the voice to call back."

The words lingered between them, sharp and uncomfortable.
They hopped back up onto the lamppost in a smooth, careless motion, balancing there with an ease that made the height feel irrelevant. He settled without effort, posture loose, like the street itself was just another stage.
From there, his gaze stayed on Tenna bright, amused, and unreadable all at once, his smile tilted in that way that never quite meant the same thing twice.
"Safe is a funny word" he added, almost gently. "Most words are!"

"Ok"Tenna said, too brisk. "That’s...that is enough philosophy for tonight."

He straightened, fingers tapping against the stone as he turned away.
"I need to go find him. Before he gets turned around. Before"–he stopped himself. "Before it gets worse"
Behind him, Jevil clapped his hands together, delighted.
"OHOHO! Look at him GO! A hero’s march  march! You’re such a good friend, friend" Jevil sang, his voice swinging with that familiar, unsettling warmth. "Running headfirst into the maze for someone else’s heart heart!"

Tenna stilled, he felt the words land heavier than he wanted to admit. He didn’t turn around, didn’t correct him, didn’t snap back with a denial or a deflection dressed up as controlling the situation. The instinct to shut it down flickered and then passed.
He let out a breath that turned into half a laugh before he could stop it, the sound slipping out of him thin and tired.
Now is really not the time, he said, more to himself than anyone else.

He turned and started down the street, posture straightening automatically, that old practiced composure snapping back into place like a familiar mask. He only managed three full steps before the sound reached him. The sound was soft and metallic, instantly recognizable, the faint chiming keeping pace behind him without hurry.
He found himself slowing, despite his better judgment. The bells weren’t loud enough to demand attention, but they threaded through the quiet all the same, grounding in a way Tenna hadn’t expected.

He didn’t look back right away. He told himself he was listening for other things instead. Footsteps ahead, movement in the dark, anything that might explain where Spamton had gone and still, the sound stayed with him.

"You don’t have to follow me." Tenna said it at last, his voice steady by habit rather than comfort, that familiar broadcast calm stretched thin over raw nerves. This isn’t... well I just mean this is not a group activity. It’s a simple retrieval. In and out. Minimal disruption." 

Jevil didn’t answer, but he didn’t stop either. The bells carried on, steady and close.
Tenna exhaled slowly, shoulders easing a fraction as he continued walking, his pace unconsciously adjusting until the sound settled into rhythm behind him. He hated that the presence helped. He hated even more that it did.

"Just don’t do anything"  he added, quieter now, not turning around. "I don’t have the bandwidth for surprises tonight."

Jevil hummed, amused but compliant. "A walk is just a walk." he replied.
So he kept walking, shoulders squared more out of habit than resolve, quietly rehearsing the outcome he needed this night to have. He would find Spamton, make sure he wasn’t hurt, guide him home without turning the moment into something frightening or overwhelming. Safe and sound. Warm and acccounted for. That was all that mattered, and if he held onto that image tightly enough, the rest of the noise might stay where it belonged.

By the time he reached him, Tenna would be calm, steady, reassuring, the way Spamton needed him to be. He focused on that version of himself as they moved through the dim streets, unaware of how fragile the illusion really was.

Jevil hummed as they went, a tuneless little melody that kept time with Tenna’s steps.

"Find the puppet, find the thread." he sang softly. Follow where the quiet led.
"When the hands go slack and the head goes hollow"–Tenna’s attention narrowed instinctively, the way it always did when Spamton’s name hovered just out of reach. His antennae angled forward, not toward Jevil, but into the dark ahead, searching for any sign that might confirm the plan he was clinging to. Whatever Jevil was circling around, Tenna refused to let it land.

"Once upon a time time,
You shout "ACTION!" at the line.
Now you whisper, now you WAIT,
Let the SCENE decide its fate fate."
He clapped once, pleased. Oho! New genre!
Tenna didn’t respond right away. He kept walking, but his head tipped just a fraction, processing.
"...uhm sorry but can I ask you something?" he said at last, the words careful, measured the way they always were when curiosity outweighed urgency.
Jevil spun once on his heel "Questions! My favorite seasoning"

"You talk in rhyme" Tenna said not trying to criticize or offended, just curiosity. "Even when you’re being serious. Is that intentional?"
Jevil blinked up at him, then smiled wider. "Oh, very! Words are slippery little things. If you don’t tie them together, they run."

Tenna absorbed that, nodding once.
"Spamton talks in advertisements" he said quietly, like the observation had only just crystallized. "He doesn’t mean to."
Jevil hummed. "Mmm. Jingles stick."
Tenna’s steps slowed for half a second before he corrected it. "I don’t think he hears it the way we do."
"No" Jevil agreed, voice softer. "That’s just the filter he got snap, click, locked."

They turned down a side street. Castle Town wasn’t big, no place really was, once you learned all its corners. 

"You’re out pretty late" Tenna said. "You got somewhere you’re heading back to, or are you just" he gestured vaguely,  "Doing laps?"

"I CAN go back back, he said. That part works now yes? Doesn't always mean I WANT to! NYA HA HA!"
He let the silence stretch just long enough to be uncomfortable then flicked his gaze toward the shadows Tenna kept scanning.
"But I SEE you are not worried about ME mehehe!"

"He doesn’t do well alone" Tenna said quieter now. "He pretends he does, but he doesn’t."

Jevil hummed as he drifted along beside him, tail looping lazily.                                        Tenna exhaled through his teeth. "He doesn’t ask when something’s wrong" he said, too quickly. "He waits it out. Pretends he’s fine. Tenna stopped short, peering behind a stack of crates.

"And the longer he waits, the harder it gets to come back like nothing happened.
And I know how that sounds, okay? I know it sounds like I’m hovering, or controlling, or whatever people like to say when they don’t actually want to think about But I’m not-I just—when he’s not where I expect him to be, my brain starts filling in gaps I don’t want to think about."

Jevil tilted his head. "Oh?"
"You ever notice"Tenna said slowly, "that people don’t panic when I disappear for a bit?"
Jevil blinked up at him, bobbing once on his heels like he understood exactly where the thought was headed.
"Oh you know they assume I’m off air. Or recharging. Or being dramatic somewhere else.
But if he goes quiet, everyone thinks it’s on purpose. Like oh, he’s Oh, he’s ignoring you. Oh, he’s just being difficult.
Tenna snorted, bitter.
He’s not like that. He just...loses the thread sometimes."
He checked behind another stack of boxes, then sighed. "Anyhoo he's probably judging me for panicking."

Jevil twirled once, then bowed "You aren’t wrong for holding the string" he said, voice gentler than usual. You’re wrong only if you pull."
Tenna looked down at his hands.

"I don’t pull." he said quietly.

"I know"

They walked a few more steps. Tenna opened his mouth again already halfway into another sentence, another explanation, another question, another  justification... then he noticed that the now familiar sound was gone.
He turned and the street was empty behind him. No flicker of motion, no retreating shadow. Just the thin wash of lanternlight.
Jevil hadn’t even walked away. He’d simply stopped being there.
Tenna stood very still, chest humming low, the sudden quiet pressing in around him.
"...Right." he spoke to no one. "Ok, alright."
His tail curled tighter arounf his leg.

Tenna took a deep breath, Alone again.

squared his shoulders, and kept walking.
The street was too quiet at this time of night. This was the kind of quiet that pressed against Tenna’s screen until he could feel it buzzing in his skull.

Jevil hadn’t come back and that bothered him more than he wanted to admit.

He moved down the side street slowly, every step deliberate. He checked corners he’d already checked. Looked up at ledges that were obviously empty. Shifted a garbage bin that scraped loudly against the stone

Tenna grumbled an automatic, brittle reassurance under his breath, mostly to hear his own voice cutting through the quiet. "Okay. That’s fine. That’s totally fine. That is A-OK."

He bent again, bracing both hands against a crate to shove it aside properly, muscles tensing as stone scraped against wood...and something shifted behind him, close enough that it registered before his mind could make sense of it. He spun, already mid-breath, screen bright as he searched for the culprit, the flash of bells or the curl of a tail he expected to catch in the corner of his vision.

He scanned the street again, sweeping left and right, Shadows leapt and collapsed under the glare, offering up nothing but his own tension reflected back at him.
He frowned and let his gaze drop, checking closer to the ground this time, attention narrowing as he searched the spaces his first pass had skipped over.

Lower.

....And lower.

Spamton stood a few steps away, small enough that he’d slipped from tennas view entirely. The sudden angle of Tenna’s screen caught him square in the face, his eyes flickered, unfocused for a split second, like a signal stunned by a camera flash, before struggling back into place.

Tenna shrieked, It wasn’t dignified and it wasn’t controlled. It wasn’t anything that belonged to a Big Screen Host with a cultivated presence and a carefully rehearsed voice. The sound ripped out of him sharp and high, pure reflex, as his antennae shot straight up and his tail lashed violently behind him, cable snapping through the air as his entire body reacted a split second before his mind caught up.

Spamton jumped too, the sharp sound tearing a startled response out of him as his body jerked backward on pure reflex, joints stuttering as if the signal had hit all at once. For a split second he glitched hard, movement skipping and catching as his hands flew up instinctively, posture collapsing into defense before his mind could catch up.

Then the shape in front of him stuttered again, familiar in all the wrong ways, and recognition slammed into place just as sharply as the fear had. For one frozen heartbeat, they stared at each other in shared terror, both too startled to move, too close to process anything except the fact that they had just scared each other senseless.

Tenna dropped to his knees right there on the stone, claws scraping once as he caught himself, breath leaving him in a shaky rush. He didn’t reach for Spamton...at least not immediately. He opened his arms instead, wide and careful and unmistakably offering, like he was afraid that even touching without permission might make the moment shatter.
Like if he stayed still enough, Spamton would stay too.
"oh my god, hi- oh darling" The words came out fast and uneven, voice cracking despite his effort to keep it steady. 

"I was so worried, I woke up and you weren’t there and I checked everywhere and then the door was unlocked and I just-"
His hands trembled where they hovered, palms open, waiting.

"I know you’re capable", Tenna rushed on, the confession spilling out faster than he could organize it. "I know you are I KNOW you’ve survived worse it’s just that you’ve never left at night before, andmybrainitjustwent" Spamton stepped forward before Tenna could finish. IM [Fine Summer Day]!! NOT some [$!X$]ing [Lost Package], he snapped, voice sharp and frayed. I GET IT. yOU doN’T HAV3 T0  [Run Rabbit Run] THE [[Customer Service Script]]!!!

Tenna moved on instinct, too fast for second thoughts. He reached out and pulled Spamton in, lifting him off the ground in one smooth, motion and holding him tight against his chest. The sound that came out of Spamton was a small, startled squeak, compressed and involuntary and it hit Tenna harder than any shout could have.

"Oh whoops! sorry" Tenna breathed, panic and relief tangling in his voice. "I didn’t mean–" He leaned in without planning it and pressed a quick, apologetic kiss to Spamton’s forehead, gentle enough that it barely lingered

Spamton froze mid motion, like a toy snapped into pause. Everything about him locked at once. Limbs rigid, jaw stuck open, that fixed grin stretched into something painfully unhelpful before his face went violently red, heat and embarrassment flashing across him in a single, overdramatic burst.

I w4s I I 1 I was JUST [Justification] just [[Loading Screen]]!! he squeaked.
Tenna stared at him for half a second too long.
"Oh you cannot keep doing that" he said softly, fond and breathless. "My system is definitely not rated for whatever that was." His arms loosened just enough to give Spamton space

Spamton reached up and tugged at the front of Tenna’s shirt, fingers catching on the edge of his pocket. Once, then again, a little sharper this time, like he was ringing a bell that refused to work.
HEY...[Hay is For horses] Spamton stunned, squinting up at him, fingers fumbling insistently at the fabric.
Th0se Are [My] [Facial Controls]!!! he added mortified. Gimme my [Cool shades] 

Tenna screen warmed, pink bleeding in at the edges before he could stop it, something soft and stupid and unbearably fond settling into his posture. Of all the things Spamton could have said sharp, defensive or biting. 
His voice dropped without effort, losing all its broadcast polish and projection.
"I know" he said gently. "I wouldn’t take those from you."

He slipped the glasses free and handed them back with careful hands, gentle as a promise.
Spamton took them with both hands and shoved them back onto his face a little too hard, the frames clicking into place as he adjusted them with quick, flustered motions. He nudged them up the bridge of his nose, then again, like he was making sure the world had snapped back into the correct resolution.

Tenna didn’t let go, instead, he shifted his grip and held Spamton out at arm’s length, hands firm but gentle at his sides.Tilting him slightly this way and that as if checking for damage.

"Okay" Tenna announced, scanning him with exaggerated seriousness. "Let’s see. Systems online! Color’s full. No smoking outta your ears. And no twitching!"
Spamton squinted behind the tinted lenses. What 4M I? A [Diagnostic Report]? ?

Tenna’s mouth curved, soft and utterly helpless. "You startled me"  he said simply. “I’m checking."
St0p 5taring, he hissed. I’m n0t a [Before And After Photo]. Spamton huffed, crossing his arms. I’m FINE.
Tenna paused, really looked at him the fixed expression, the flushed face fading back to normal, the way the glasses settled him back into himself.
"Yeah." he said quietly, and then pulled Spamton back in without warning.
"Now you are."

He adjusted his grip without thinking, one hand still firm at Spamton’s back as his gaze flicked down and back up again, quick and habitual. He frowned faintly.
"Alright" said, trying and failing to sound casual. "Real quick. Not a serious question. How did you even get this far?"

Spamton snorted Oh PLEASE, he said, rolling his eyes. I didn’t [Traverse The Shadow Realm].
Tenna glanced down again, just a few seconds longer this time.
Spamton followed his gaze and immediately bristled.
I have LEGS, he snapped. They DO that.

"I know!" Tenna said quickly, "I just–" he stopped, exhaled, and corrected himself. “I didn’t hear you leave.”

Wow, GUESS your [State Of The Art Security System] needs A patch.
Tenna let out a weak laugh despite himself. "Yeah. Guess so."
His vision flicked down again, but gentler now the plastic of Spamton’s feet scuffed and grimy, darkened in places they hadn’t been earlier, like he’d walked somewhere he shouldn’t have. Tenna swallowed, thumb brushing unconsciously at Spamton’s side.

Spamton shrugged, already halfway into a bit. [[Autopilot]] he said. H4ppens wh  y0ur [Noggin] reboots.
Tenna nodded like that explained everything. because, honestly, it did. He held Spamton close against his chest, rambling as he always did when he was trying not to spiral.

"Okay, hear me out now just hear me out on this one" he said. "If there’s a little bell the door, it might wake you up. It would wake me up. I wake up if the smoke detector thinks about beeping."

Spamton narrowed his eyes behind the tinted lenses, head tilting just enough to be suspicious. You [saw III] THat on TV.
Tenna froze for half a second too long. "Nope...?"

Spamton didn’t blink. He just stared at him l utterly unconvinced.
Waz it a [Sitdown Comedy]???

Tenna exhaled slowly through his nose, shoulders slumping just a fraction.
"…It worked in the episode"
Spamton squinted harder, little plastic fingers clawing into Tenna’s shirt as he gave it a sharp, offended tug.
I do NOT [Kneed] no [$<"*>,%] [Jingle Bells]!! He gestures vaguely at himself. What am I¿ a [Pretty Kitty]???

Tenna sputters. "No! I didn’t mean— it’s just a noise cue!"
Unfortunately Spamton was already already committed

Oh yeah? What’s [Nexpo]huh??? A little [Tag You're It!] that says If found Please Return To [Current address]
Tenna’s screen goes almost red. "That is NOT at– no I would not!"
Spamton hovered there for a moment, vibrating with the kind of confidence that only comes from making bad decisions on purpose.

Though. I could be a very [Good Kitty] if I stayed indoors.
The silence that followed was immediate and complete.
Tenna’s antennae snapped straight up.
"I–Spamton.”
He swallowed, clearly scrambling for words that would not make this worse.
“You can’t just say things like that.”
Spamton shifted in his arms, settling more comfortably, like he’d decided this was a perfectly reasonable place to be havingt this conversation. A quiet, pleased hum slipped out of him.
[Wynaut]? You look like a [Broken Signal] when I do.

Tenna turned away, utterly fried, arms locked straight as he held Spamton out in front of him like a problem he was not equipped to solve.
"You’re doing this on purpose"  he said, helpless
C’mon,” Spamton said, far too casually.

Tenna stiffened instantly. “No. Whatever you’re about to say, the answer is—”

I'd still [wear and tear] it  Spamton continued eyes glinting behind the shades. [Cool Kat<span;> Collar With Bell $3.80]
Tenna’s systems seemed to spike with a sharp whine as he cut him off. "STOP—”

[RING RING RING]! Bad [Bobcat®] wandered off again.”

“Do not” Tenna choked, screen flashing pink. “You are fresh out of a dissociative episode, this is not the time–”Spamton tilted his head slightly, the motion slow and deliberate, like he was considering him.

Oh?
Sorry.
Did the [Local Celebrity] FORGET how many TIMES I’ve been [Publicly Humiliated] before [Breakfast Club]?

Tenna made a noise that was not any word not even close .

“I am a  host,” he said weakly,

Oh, please! I’ve se3n [Watt] you [Do The Dew] with a [Mike].

Tenna let our a noise somewhere between a choke and a whine he. “I...that is– that is for performance!”

Oh, PERFORMANCE? Spamton echoed sweetly.

That’s what you called it when you [@#%$>,^] used [[UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS]] on MY [MP3: male moan 63g.wav] [PRIVATE CHANNEL] during company time??? Oh and the TIME in MY [CUNGADERO]!!  You Mr. Ant [Tennis balls] [REDACTED] the [Foam Zone]!! you [Snap, Crackle, and Pop] the SEAT and then U [Audacity Snake] to [Spillways] your [Starbucks] on your own [ Crow Of Cock 104731.mp3] 
DO u hav3 ANY idea! Spamton continued, voice pitching sharp. How [Rock Hard] it is to get [Starbucks] out of [Snow white] feathers?? he said with a glitchy scoff.
My @$$ and MY [New car scent] SMELLED like [Pumpkin Spice] for [Deals For Dayz].

If that’s..what.you.call.."performance" Spamton added, almost amused,
I think [Ewe] take your [Workload] very seriously.

Tenna’s internal fans screamed in protest, whirring so loudly it bordered on panic.
“Where” he managed, voice cracking.
“Where in world did you ever learn to talk like this?!?”
The [Trash Zone]  Spamton replied instantly.
U learn a [Used Car LOT] WHEN you’re STUCK between [Used Hypodermic Needles] AND [Free Internet]

"I cannot believe you. I am begging please,” he said hoarsely. “Please stop talking.”

Spamton squinted up at him and made a tiny, unmistakable jingling noise with his mouth. This body had come with a few perks, and Spamton was going to be a bitch about every single one.

Tenna squeezed Spamton without meaning to, hands clamping down as Spamton’s body gave just enough to remind him this was not a problem him could crush away.
Spamtons body compressed with a faint plastic creak, followed immediately by an irritated noise from somewhere deep in his chest.

"We are going to LOCK the door!" 

Spamton laughed short and breathless  but the sound faded as the last of the adrenaline drained away. He shifted, quieter now, embarrassment creeping back in.

Tenna nodded too fast. "We can do that!" he said quickly. "That’s a real solution. See?"
A thin, hopeful smile flickered. "Look at us. Responsible adults"

Spamton’s voice dropped, the bravado draining out of it. …I just— He hesitated, fingers tightening briefly onto Tennas a small, unmistakable signal.
Tenna didn’t hesitate. He drew Spamton in closer, tucking him against his chest without a word.
Spamton’s voice was barely audible now, muffled where his face pressed into Tenna’s frame.
I woke up in a [Dumpster] …It.wasn’t.. even. mine.

Tenna froze for half a second before instinct took over, his grip tightening immediately as he pulled Spamton closer.
"Oh my god, Spammy" he whispered, the words thick with relief and horror all at once. “Come here,doll.

It was one of those old, soft endearments Tenna had always used without thinking, left over from a time when doll just meant beloved, something precious and close to the heart. The irony of it now wasn’t lost on him, but it didn’t sour the word.

He lowered his head and pressed his chin gently against the top of Spamton’s hair, holding him there as if anchoring him to something solid.
"That shouldn’t ever happen to you again." Tenna said quietly, certainty threading through every word. "Ever."
He nuzzled closer without quite realizing he was doing it, his antennae dipping and drifting instinctively, brushing through Spamton’s hair as if drawn there on their own. They twitched and adjusted, light and curious, poking and shifting like they were trying to catalog him by feel alone. He smiled faintly, the kind of unconscious expression that came from comfort rather than thought.

Spamton let out a quiet laugh at the ticklish sensation, shoulders hitching as the antennae brushed his scalp. “HȆ̵̼Y̶̞̌̋” he muttered, half amused, half squirming. He wriggled once, then again, clearly determined to reclaim some dignity, and Tenna immediately loosened his hold to help, lowering him carefully until Spamton could hop down on his own.
The moment his feet hit the floor, Spamton stiffened. He rubbed his hands against his shirt, brows knitting as his fingers came away slick with something cold and unpleasant. He looked down at them, then back up, deeply unimpressed.

What the [[Heck]] is this.

Tenna leaned down immediately, concern snapping back into place as his antennae dipped toward Spamton’s hands.
"Oh no" he said, already scanning him over. “Is that oil? Or-" Do NOT guess! Spamton snapped, tugging his shirt away from his body like it had personally betrayed him.
If I [Investigation Discovery ] it, it becomes [Real Boy].

Tenna squinted at the dark smear across the fabric, then leaned in, his screen glow revealing the thin residue clinging to Spamton’s inner legs that distance had hidden before.
"Yep That is... that’s "

Spamton scowled... well he scowled as much as he physically could.

This was my [10/10] [Sleepytime Tea] shirt!! It was [Soft]...now it..smells..like [[Stranger]] and Regret. He huffed and turned away, clearly done discussing it.
Whatever he muttered. Let’s [Go Go Go!] You look like [Crisis Management] I l0ok l¡ke [Evidence].
He took two determined steps and immediately wobbled, gait uneven and off-center, his small frame compensating badly as his feet slipped just a little on the slick pavement. He recovered, barely, posture stiff with irritation rather than pain, but it was obvious now how much effort it took.

Tenna clocked it instantly. His gaze flicked up the street, taking in the passerby at the far end, and the decision settled in without hesitation.
"Okay" he said, already moving. "Nope. C’mon."
He shrugged his jacket open and scooped Spamton back up in one smooth motion, tucking him against his chest and pulling the fabric closed around him like a shield.

Spamton yelped. HȆ̵̼Y̶̞̌̋!!
Tenna didn’t break stride, adjusting his hole like this was a familiar problem with a known solution.

"Nope" he said calmly. "We are not doing this part. You’re cold, you’re sticky, and I am absolutely not  letting someone ask why my looks like he lost a fight with a recycling bin.”

Spamton peeked out eyes half closed now that the adrenaline was draining.
You R treating [User] like a [Pound Puppies] he complained, muffled now that he was bundled up tight.
Tenna didn’t even slow down, his stride steady and unbothered. He adjusted the jacket around Spamton without breaking pace, tucking the fabric closer like it was second nature.

"You’re shaking" he said, glancing down briefly. "And you're...you are covered in slime and–" He hesitated, then added, gentler but no less firm, “You do kind of look like an aspca commercial right now.”
Spamton made a small, offended noise and promptly vanished into the jacket entirely, retreating until nothing but the faint outline of his shape remained, like a turtle pulling inside a shell.
[Rude Buster] he spoke from somewhere near Tenna’s chest.

They walked in silence for a few steps.
Just [Checking Account] Spamton muttered, AM I being [Escorted To The Facilities]? or ar3 YOU planning to [decontamination]  and PRETEND [Zero] of this [Happy!]ended 

Tenna snorted, a quiet sound of amusement. “Oh, hush. You’re just being dramatic on purpose now, you can stop narrating this like I’m about to assault you with the garden hose."

'We have warm water" he continued, ticking it off like a plan he’d already committed to. “Clean clothes. Your blanket straight from the dryer. And then you’re going to sit somewhere soft and let your body remember it’s not in danger.”

_______________________________________________________

Tenna didn’t realize how exhausted he was until the water shut off and the house settled into quiet again, the kind that only came once everything urgent had finally been taken care of.
Spamton reappeared from the bedroom a moment later, a blanket draped around his shoulders like a makeshift cape that was only slightly too big for him. His hair was still damp, sticking up at odd angles. He smelled like peony soap instead of street grime, and the sight alone made something in Tenna’s chest finally unclench.

Spamton shuffled into the kitchen without ceremony, tugged open the cabinet, and retrieved a sleeve of cookies like this was simply the next logical step in night.
And Tenna watched him in silence, the way Spamton leaned against the counter, the way he tore the sleeve open with his teeth, the way the first bite seemed to settle him.
O K Spamton said after a moment. Yeah. That helps.

"You want any milk?" Tenna asked, still smiling. Spamton waved him off. Nope!! [[Cookie Monster]] only I am [Stabilized].

Tenna had been watching him without quite meaning to, attention lingering the way it did when relief hadn’t fully caught up with fear yet. The worst of the panic was over, but it had left its residue behind. That heavy and quiet feeling settling into his joints. He’d spent the night running through everything that could have gone wrong, every place Spamton could have ended up and every version of himself that hadn’t gotten there in time. Even now when they are safe back home, the guilt clung stubbornly. It was irrational and persistent, until his body did what it always did when the feeling got too big to hold.

Spamton looked to his side about to say something. His eyes flicked down. Then back up. Then down again. Froze looks dead on at tenna whos now eye level with him.

WHY did you [Shrinky Dinks]???

Tenna answered way too fast.  Oh! No reason! Just–I uh.... a comfort setting. Power-saving mode.
Spamton stared at him for a long moment, the stillness sharp and focused in a way that meant something had tripped an internal alarm. His eyes narrowed behind the lenses.

WHY would you [Minimize Window]?? he demanded. What’s WRoNg? What's [Red Light]???
Then he reached out and poked Tenna right im the chest, firm and accusatory.
He yelped. "Hey! Don’t d-don’t poke me, I'm sensitive!
Spamton poked him again, harder this time, like he was testing a theory.

Tenna sighed, the tension finally draining out of him as his shoulders slumped and his antennae drooped a fraction. "Okay. Okay" he admitted. "I lied." His voice softened, the words coming out quieter than he meant them to. "I just... I didn’t–"he stutterd, words tangling as his hands tightened uselessly at his sides. He looked down, then back up again, breath catching like he hadn’t expected it to.

"I just didn’t want to be far away from you anymore."

Spamton paused, a cookie halfway to his mouth. He looked at Tenna for a long moment, something unreadable passing behind his eyes as he chewed, swallowed, and wiped his hands carefully on his shirt like he needed the motion to think. Then he nodded once.

[Alrighty Then!]  We’re..done.. here.

"Done with what?"

Come on Spamton said, already turning. “Bed let5 GO [You've Got Mail!] h4d a [Big Feelings] Night.
Tenna barely had time to register the words before the world flipped sideways. Spamton scooped him up without warning, lifting him with an ease that suggested he’d made the decision before Tenna had time to react. Tenna’s body went light in his arms, the sudden closeness knocking the breath right out of him. His antennae shot straight up, screen flushing bright pink as his systems scrambled to catch up.

Behind him, his tail reacted on pure instinct  the length of cable swinging loose, the three prongs at the end clinking softly together as they rattled against Spamton’s side. The sound only made Tenna more flustered, the cable twitching uselessly like it didn’t know where to go either.
"W-whoa!" Tenna managed, half laughing, half mortified, hands hovering like he wasn’t sure where he was allowed to put them. "Spammy!"

Spamton adjusted his grip without ceremony and kept going, completely unfazed, carrying him like this was the most obvious solution in the world.
"Oh my gosh,” Tenna breathed, then laughed, breathless and startled and entirely undone.

Don’t [The Wiggles] plz

Tenna immediately wriggled. "This is–I don’t...wow" he said, tail wagging so hard it thumped against Spamton’s arm. "You know, if this were a show, this is the part where the audience goes awwww."

Spamton snorted. “This i$ [Stop Sign] a [Telenovella]

Tenna rested his head against Spamton’s shoulder anyway. "You’d be the fan favorite! The mysterious one. Tragic backstory."
He giggled, actually giggled, hand flying up to cover his mouth like a teenager.

“Oh my god. Wow. You...Spamton you are surprisingly–"  

Spamton scoffed immediately, chin lifting as if the compliment had flipped a switch. He adjusted his grip on to hold tenna closer, posture straightening in a way that was half confidence, half performance

Please~ he said, voice sliding right back into pitchman smooth. You ThiNk I can’t [right hand]le a [[Premium Package]] like you?

He gave Tenna a tiny, unnecessary bounce, just enough to prove the point.
[ABS Plastic] he went on smugly. [Nerves Of Steel] spine.He paused then, almost fondly threatening Don’t [Why Worry?] I’m not gonna [Drop Ship] you

He let out a short, self satisfied laugh, the kind that said he was enjoying this far too much. If he’d still been an Addison, he absolutely would’ve flexed.

Addisons were meant to be identical in all the ways that mattered. Spamton had never quite managed that, even before. Now the difference was undeniable, written into every awkward movement, glitched advertisment and visible seam. Tenna didn’t mourn the loss of normalcy. He chose Spamton as he was now, and let that be enough.

They didn’t bother with the bed. Spamton turned instead, guiding them toward the hall closet. He nudged the door open with his foot and ducked inside without hesitation. The nest waited there exactly as he’d left it  blankets rumpled just so, pillows crooked and familiar, a small, contained world that belonged just to him.

He lowered Tenna down first, careful in a way that was almost reverent, adjusting the cushions until Tenna was properly supported, properly tucked in, properly safe. He pressed a pillow against Tenna’s side, tugged his blanket up around his shoulders, then stepped back to check his work with a critical squint.
He tilted his head, antennae angling toward Spamton as the realization settled in.
"Oh"  he murmured, tail flicking once. "Okay."

Spamton nodded, satisfied, and then turned and left without another word.
Tenna watched him disappear down the hall.
"Spammy?"  he called, not panicked, just confused in that small, plaintive way that came out when he was tired and shrunken and very much not in charge of anything right now.
When no answer came, Tenna remained there, letting the quiet grow around him. His screen glowed softly, antennae drooping in tired acceptance.
"Well" he whispered. "I guess I live here now."

Footsteps scuffed just outside the closet And Spamton reappeared almost immediately, struggling slightly.
He had a paper plate clenched between his teeth, freeing both hands, one clutching the cookie sleeve, the other a crinkled bag of chips. A water bottle was wedged awkwardly against his arm, rattling every time he moved.
He froze in the doorway like he’d just been caught stealing.
Tenna stared.
Spamton stared. He froze in the doorway like he’d just been caught stealing. Tenna stared as Spamton growled around the plate and shuffled forward, carefully dumping the whole mess onto the floor beside the bed.The plate slid free from his mouth last, placed with surprising precision

There! he said, straightening. [911 what's your emergency?] rations.

Tenna’s antennae flicked up in surprise "Since when did you start believing in self care?" 

Spamton shrugged, scooting the blanket into his lap and kicking at it until it stopped touching him Wrong. He reached for the water bottle next, twisted the cap with his teeth, and drank, slow at first, then longer, like he hadn’t realized how dry his throat was until the water hit. Some of the tension drained out of his shoulders as he swallowed, exhaled, and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.

You..looked... like.. you.needed.it.

He tipped the bottle back again, a few more gulps for good measure, then set it down within easy reach.
Also my [Energy Bar] is empty, he added, voice flattening,  And my [Tylenol Extra Strength] is [[Screaming]]. I.will not be facing my [Thoughts And Prayers] without [ruffles® cheddar and sour cream].”

Tenna’s tail started wagging immediately.
"Oh my god is this sleepover?!"
Spamton glanced up at him, expression flat but unmistakably fond.

Yeah. You looked like a [Sleepover Episode].

Tenna gasped softly, delighted. "Oh! Blankets. Snacks. Emotional vulnerability! He laughed, giddy and warm. "This is textbook."

Spamton laughed and crawled back into the nest, settling beside him with a tired sigh. He shoved the chips closer with his foot and nudged the water bottle into Tenna’s reach.

Don’t ge+ [Crumbl cookie] in MY [Pillow],” he warned.
Tenna nodded and carefully settled the plate into his lap."Thank you for trusting me" he said earnestly.
Spamton squinted. ...I [moss]tly just [REDACTED]
Tenna smiled anyway, shifting closer without asking and settling beside him. He relaxed after that, comforted by the simple fact that he wasn’t the only one trying to hold everything together right now.

"You didn’t have to do all that." Tenna said quietly
Spamton waved a hand vaguely. NON[cents]  [[Angel]]!

He cracked open the chips and immediately froze. Tenna watched him very carefully. "What."
Spamton tilted the bag, peered inside, then looked up with exaggerated suspicion.
These are the [Wrong] [Flavor Profile] 

Tenna gasped. "Oh no."

I SPECIFICALLY remember BUYing the [Customer Satisfaction survey] Ones Spamton said solemnly. Thi$ is a [Bait And Switch].

Tenna leaned closer, conspiratorial. “You want me to eat them so you don’t have to?”
Spamton considered this. Then pushed the bag into Tenna’s hands.
YES  .That’s called [Delegation].

Tenna laughed, happily crunching away.
Spamton watched him in silence, eyes half lidded, smile unchanged, attention unmistakably fixed...and then reached over, stealing a chip straight out of Tenna’s grip.

"...hey"  Tenna protested weakly.
Spamton didn’t apologize. He didn’t even look at him  just chewed slowly and deliberately.

...[Executive Privilege].

He shifted once, then again, then stopped with a quiet whine.
Tenna felt it immediately. "You okay?"
Spamton made a noncommittal noise, one hand lifting to rub at the side of his head like the thought itself annoyed him.
Yeah. STILL got a LITTLE [Static] in the [Beautiful Head].

Tenna adjusted without thinking, easing closer, one hand hovering before gently resting against Spamton’s shoulder. His screen dimmed a few notches, the glow soft and steady.
"I can turn my brightness down more" Tenna offered. "Or I can put on one of those  late night infomercials where almost nothing useful happens for twenty minutes.”

Spamton snorted. “WOW! Tempting THE [Smooth Taste Of]!! absolutely nothing.

He closed his eyes anyway. He curled around Tenna, all plush and solid, one arm draped loosely over Tenna’s middle like this was instinct now. Tenna relaxed into it immediately, screen dimming, body finally allowed to stop bracing.
After a moment, he spoke again, quieter.
"Hey Star?"
Mm.

"I just–tonight was a lot. And I know I still...I still think I can fix everything if I just—” He swallowed. “I’m trying. I swear. I’m trying not to grab the wheel every time I get scared. I’m really, really sorry for–" Uh-uh Spamton cut in, disappearing beneath the little star blanket he’d claimed after moving in pale blue, fleece, edges chewed thin from restless nights. He curled into it and went still.

No.

Tenna went very still. "No?" he echoed, sharp and disbelieving, the word slipping out before he could stop it. His screen flared brighter, heat spiking fast and sudden. “What do you mean, no?–" He caught himself mid breath, hands tightening once against the blanket before he forced them to still.

IT is [3:45 AM] Spamton snapped, the words coming out clipped and edged.

I have a [Headache]. You’re [Toasty]. And if you start [Rolling Stones] out the FULL [Director’s cut] apology RIGHT now, I am going to [Lose My Cool] and that WILL [F1] no one.

"Okay" he said, low and careful, hands flattening against the blanket like he was grounding himself there. "I hear you. I am parking it."

Spamton lifted his head just enough to look at him properly, eyes tired, voice calmer now he was still blunt, but he wasn't unkind.

I'M not [See 'n Say®]ing you DIDN’T [$%$#÷!] up.You did. U WERE a [Big Screen] with a BIG [Panic Room] problem. You [Manipulation Station] and [workplace harassment] and [Liar Liar Pants On Fire!

Tenna winced. "That still sounds really really bad.

Yeah!! Spamton agreed easily. 

 Spamton sighed, rolling his head back against the pillow, his little tail flicked once against the fabric of the bed.

BUT he continued, YOU [Showtime!] up after. You [Please Stay On The Line]. You didn’t..vanish..WHen th1Ngs got [UglySnuglies®]. You didn’t [Use Your Imagination] no   thing happened.”
He shifted again, tucking closer, one hand curling into Tenna’s shirt like it belonged there.
You [apology Video] Spamton said. For the [Contract Agreement] For the [Your Call Could Not Be Forwarded]...For [You think you thought!] You c0ulD [Fix It Felix] the [Sticky Situation]...For [Hoverboard]. For [KNOT] hovering. [Fore] apologizing about [Apollo]GIz1ng

Tenna groaned faintly. "no, Spammy come on now! do I really apologize that much?"

[100% guarantee]!!! You AlS0 apologized when U [Thot] I WAS [Missing Person] Spamton went on, voice softer now, edged with something raw beneath the humor. Wh3n I [Crybaby Milk]...When I DiDnt.
When you [ShortStack.com] circuited and Turned ON the Water[Well It Works For Me!] like a BABY
"Hey that was one time" Tenna muttered.

Spamton snorted. Sure..It..was. He eased back into place, cheek settling against the blankets, limbs slackening as the last of his resistance faded. And RIGHT now...he finished, eyes closing, WHAT I need IS [Zzz]. And [Crunch Therapy]. And U not [Tear]ing yourself APART like it’s a [Hobby Lobby].

He went very still for a few seconds after that. Tenna, unfortunately, did not.
He shifted, tail swaying with contained excitement, then wrapped both arms around Spamton’s middle and hugged tight, He pressed his head against Spamton’s plush stomach, the stuffing gave gently under the weight, like a well loved plush that had learned how to breathe.

Spamton made a strangled noise [BoobTube]

He immediately tried to pry Tenna off him, elbows braced, hands pushing at Tenna’s shoulders in short, annoyed shoves that did absolutely nothing except bunch the blankets and make Tenna laugh quietly into him.

"Well, I don’t know what you expected. You’re extremely soft. That feels like an invitation."

Babe pl[EA]se n0t [Objectify] my [Stomach Region]!! He groaned, voice muffled. I am not a [Limited Edition Plush Drop].
He tried to roll away, but Tenna shifted with him, sticking close without effort.

This body HAS [Limited Mobility], he snapped.
You are [Abusing The System].

'I never get to do this." Tenna said, voice low and earnest, arms tightening just a fraction. "Do you have any idea how unfair it is that you’re full of stuffing?"

I [A.M.] [Beggars can't be choosers] YOU to let me–”
Tenna ignored that completely. "I’m fifteen feet tall ninety nine percent of the time! I hold you. I am the platform. The furniture. The infrastructure." His tail flicked, delighted.

“Tonight? I get to be the little one.”
Spamton sighed the long, sigh of someone who had absolutely lost this battle and knew it. His tail flicked once. Then twice. Then, traitorously, began to wag.
"YOU’re the WORST [ROI] he muttered.

"And yet!"  Tenna said happily, "you still love me."

Spamton did not answer to that. He simply shifted, disentangling himself with slow, sleepy movements, then sat up to fix the nest with surprising precision pushing crumbs aside, nudging the water bottle away with his foot, tugging blankets back into their familiar crooked shape. He scooped the empty wrappers up, tossed them just outside the closet to deal with in the morning, and pulled the door closed again.
He rolled halfway onto his side and relaxed into the nest, joints slack, body folding in a way that felt more placed than held, the way a puppet rests when the strings go quiet.

Tenna watched, breath caught, like this was the most important television program he’d ever seen.
Spamton pulled the blanket up, then patted the space beside him twice without opening his eyes.
Tenna made a sound somewhere between a gasp and a squeak and immediately complied, sliding down beside him, careful  like he’d been invited into a sacred ritual. He settled in close and powered his screen down completely as Spamton’s arm rested around him, awkward at first, then steady. It wasn’t something Spamton usually got to do, and it showed but Tenna didn’t pull away.

"Oh" he whispered. This is it. This is the

Spamton growled, already half asleep. If IF say [This Episode Of Bluey Is Called Sleepover] again!! I WILL [Uninstall] you.

Tenna smiled into his chest, the last of the energy draining out of him. "Alright" he whispered. "I’ll behave."

They lay like that for a while, warmth shared, breathing in sync, safe at last.
Eventually, Spamton shifted again, slower this time, and reached up to his face. His fingers hesitated at the bridge of his glasses.

Hey he whispered.

Tenna hummed in response, barely awake now.
Spamton slipped his glasses off and placed them on the floor beside the nest, where he could reach them if he needed to.
His tierd eyes, soft and unguarded blinked a few times in the low light.

You. lock.. the. front..door? he asked quietly.
Tenna’s arm tightened around him.
"Yep" he said immediately, "Triple checked."

[Good Deal!]