Chapter Text
The soft, dark ambience of Castle Town was often a source of comfort to those who wandered its streets. The azure glow of the lights contrasting against the obsidian stonework gave it a peaceful aura, an illusion of an eternal midnight's stillness.
Yet tonight, as Tenna walked their winding paths, for whatever reason, he only gleaned a deep sense of loneliness from the lights twinkling amidst the darkened sky.
Perhaps it was the fact that even in all its tranquility, the town was still dark and dreary compared to the bright and dazzling atmosphere that had been his old studio. Sure, he had the makings of a new studio here, too, but it would never be the same. Even now, after having spent the last few weeks in this place, he found himself longing—wishing that it could all somehow go back to the way it was.
No—nothing would ever be the same again. The curtains had fallen at last over the dark world Tenna had once called home, casting him out into the cold, dark embrace of their shadows. By the time they’d risen once again, he’d awoken with the remnants of a nightmare clinging to his psyche and a deep, aching pain rooted in his shoulders, the tendrils only ever seeming to burrow further in.
The knowledge weighed heavy on his heart, and it only served to worsen the migraine that had been prodding at him for over a day now, joining the rest of his aching body like a malevolent note in an already insufferable song. What had started off as a dull pressure had grown into the sharpened tip of a blade, slowly and repeatedly pressing against the back of his equivalent of a skull, teasing him with how close it came to breaking the delicate glass of his screen before backing off again.
He knew he should go home. With the way his body was practically begging for it, it shouldn’t have even been in question. But there was one major problem with that idea, being that right now, “home” didn’t feel like home. Not really. Sure, it resembled his old home in a lot of ways, something he’d expressed gratitude towards Ralsei for as soon as he’d been able to process what was in front of him at the time. It was an unconditionally kind gesture, and certainly not one he’d been expecting.
And yet, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t make himself believe that it offered anything more than isolation. That he deserved anything more. But like clockwork, he’d simply put on a smile and carried on throughout the day like he always did, and like clockwork, everyone had seemed to buy it so long as he kept it all shoved down, clenching his jaw through the pain.
Fake—everything was all so fake. A feigned smile here, a forced laugh there; at the end of the day, none of it was real, and he loathed himself for it.
Well, almost none of it. There was… one place Tenna had found himself feeling a little more welcome these days. A place where the soft, warm glow of the lights managed to cast away the darkness and relieve him of the weight of it all, if only for a short time. That, of course, was where he found himself heading now, hardly aware of the fact that his legs had been carrying him there until the indigo door of the Castle Town Café was standing before him, that same yellow-tinted light flooding out from the windows and beckoning him inside.
Without a second thought, Tenna pushed his way through and entered. Most days, it was almost magical how quickly the shift in atmosphere served to lighten his mood. Tonight, though, the brightness did little to help with his headache, much to his dismay. Still, everything was just as he’d been hoping for: this late in the evening, the place was winding down for the night, with few patrons left scattered about the premises. Tenna had had enough of the crowds for a while; tonight, he just wanted a peaceful corner of the bar to himself.
Or, at least, that was what he’d told himself. But as he stepped up to claim his spot on the end closest to the wall, he was soon greeted by the familiar feathered figure of the café’s owner, his gentle gaze just barely visible beneath the orange and yellow glasses adorning his face.
“Ah! Good evening, Tenna,” Swatch said, his voice as smooth as ever. “I was beginning to wonder whether I’d see you here tonight. Busy day today, I take it?”
Tenna perked up the moment Swatch had spoken without even realizing it. “Oh—no, not busy, per se, just… long.”
“I see. Care for a drink while you unwind, then?”
Despite himself, Tenna nodded. “S’pose I would.”
Obviously, mixing a migraine with alcohol was a less than stellar decision, but with the mood he was in right now, Tenna was almost hoping it would hurt enough to put him into a coma. Maybe he’d actually get a break for once that way.
“The usual?”
For what could have easily been the hundredth time that day alone, Tenna forced a smile. “What can I say? You know me so well!”
Swatch gave a curt nod of his own, and unlike Tenna’s, the smile shaping his expression was genuine in nature. “Of course. One moment, please.”
The second he’d turned away, Tenna dropped the façade with only a half-stifled sigh, letting his overly stiff antennas relax somewhat. He was getting awfully tired of just how stiff and achy everything was these days, but for whatever reason, it had all been bothering him even more so tonight, forcing him to put in extra effort to hide the headache that had been pricking at his senses.
Regardless, Swatch returned not long after, placing a classic mix of whiskey and soda in front of him with a graceful maneuver. Tenna shot him a grateful glance, but as he honed in on the dark amber liquid before him, he couldn’t quite bring himself to feel enthused.
“Just you, then?” Swatch asked.
Tenna raised his head slightly. “Hmm?”
“I see you with your compatriot, on occasion,” he clarified. “‘Mike,’ was it?”
“Oh.” Tenna managed to sink a little further into his seat. He hadn’t bothered to ask Mike to accompany him this time. Why would he, when he already knew the answer? He simply wasn’t worth being around right now. “No, I’m… alone.”
“So you are.” Swatch paused for a moment, then raised one hand to rest it on the counter. “Forgive me for asking, but… is everything alright? You seem a little down tonight.”
The question practically shattered him into pieces.
“What? Me? No, of course not! I'm peachy as ever!” Another forced smile. “What... what makes you say that?”
Swatch furrowed his brow. “Ah, my apologies, it's just that... well, if there is anything you wish to discuss, I want you to know that I'd be happy to listen. That’s all.”
Tenna struggled to hold his strained expression, his voice lowered to a near-growl. “I'm fine.”
For another moment or so, Swatch held his gaze, almost as if in challenge. Then, at last, he withdrew his hand. “Very well. I'll leave you be, then.”
As he turned to walk away, the pieces cracked and splintered smaller yet.
You fucking idiot. There you go again, pushing everyone away. No wonder they can't stand you—you keep messing it all up, over and over and over...
He gritted his teeth, bracing himself against another sharp pain clawing at the back of his head as the self-loathing inside him warred with the creeping sense of loneliness chilling his circuits. He lowered his gaze, staring down at the wooden countertop, the faint swirling patterns etched into its surface mimicking the way his thoughts were running circles around him. Damn it, damn it—
“...Wait.”
Swatch halted, turning to face him once more.
“I... I'm sorry,” Tenna began, only lifting his head slightly, still weighed down by guilt. “It's just... everything's so different...”
Swatch hesitated, but with a nod, he approached the bar to stand before Tenna again, his expression just as gentle as it had been. “It's alright. I understand.”
Tenna managed to look up a little more, only to flinch away from his spectacled gaze. “I don't know why, but I feel so alone here sometimes... like it's all just for show, you know?” Then, his antennas jolted upright in alarm the second he realized what he'd let slip.
Idiot! What do you think is gonna happen if you say that?! You're not allowed—
“...Is what I would say, if I were glooby! Which I'm not! Nope, never! Ahaha!”
Fake, fake, fake—
Swatch flashed a sympathetic grin, his eyes closing briefly before looking over him again. “It's okay, you know. Every color has its purpose, and blue is often considered among the most beautiful of them all. Sorrowful, yes, but also deeply profound. A necessary part of one’s reflection when looking at the bigger picture, wouldn’t you say?”
Tenna's screen flickered as he worked to process the words. “I'm... I'm not sure.” I don't think I like what's in my reflection. Isn't it better if some things are kept hidden? He shook his head. “Hah... sorry. I doubt you ever have to deal with that, being… you. You shouldn't have to listen to this.”
To his surprise, Swatch chuckled. “If only that were true. But that aside, you think you're the first one to experience loneliness? At a bar, no less?”
Tenna shrank down a few inches, his antennas bent forward significantly. “N-no, that's not what I...”
Swatch let out another breath of amusement. “Relax, I'm only teasing. Yes, believe it or not, I do know how you feel, at least to some degree. I can't ever claim to truly know what you are going through... but from my end, I have found that your frequenting of this establishment has very much helped to brighten my nights here in this peculiar little town.”
Slowly, Tenna perked back up. “It... it has?” The words almost didn't make sense. Certainly not in that order.
Swatch nodded. “Indeed, it has.” He then reached up to casually adjust his tie. “Now, I do apologize, but I have a few things to take care of in the back before closing. But please, don't hesitate to call out if you need anything else.”
“...Oh, right. Sure.”
With that, Swatch turned and disappeared beyond the door behind the counter, leaving Tenna alone with his thoughts for what already felt like too long. He'd quickly found himself staring at his untouched drink, watching the liquid stir abruptly as the ice shifted and settled, sending amber ripples across its surface. Watched as his reflection shuddered and distorted with the movement.
Eventually, he managed to coax himself into picking up the glass and downing half of it in a matter of seconds, wincing as the mixture of sweet and burning bitterness made its way down his throat. He was no longer quite as apathetic towards the way it would likely come to bite him in the ass later, but he'd already made Swatch go to the trouble of getting him said drink. The very least he could do was not let it go to waste, even if its cold touch did make him shiver.
But as he placed the glass back down on the counter with an aggressive clink, he glanced around, only to realize that he was the last one left this side of the bar. Everyone else must have departed without his notice, leaving him even more alone than before under the dimming yellowish lights.
Alone. Abandoned. Worthless, useless, forgotten—
Tenna sat upright with a start as Swatch reemerged from the back.
“Ah, you're still here,” he observed. “You did seem rather lost in thought the last few times I passed by.”
Tenna’s screen flickered once in confusion. He hadn’t noticed Swatch moving between rooms, either. Just how “lost in thought” had he been…?
“Sorry, I must’ve lost track of time,” he said. “You’re closing now, aren’t you? I’ll leave.” He stood then, his tail swishing behind him. “Goodnight, Swatch. Thanks for the drink.”
“Of course. You’re welcome here any time, my friend.”
Tenna turned to leave at last, mentally preparing himself for the transition back into the everlasting gloom. However, he’d only made it about halfway to the door before another dagger of pain shot through the back of his head, threatening to sever it in two with the way it pierced and twisted inside his mind, throwing him off balance.
“Nngh…”
He quickly raised a hand to it, but it did little to relieve it, nor to steady him, and he staggered hard to one side. He tried to take another step, but his body wasn’t cooperating, not to mention the fact that his vision had gone blurry and was darkening more and more with each heartbeat.
Behind him, he briefly heard the sound of footsteps thumping rather hastily against the wooden flooring. For a moment, as he stood and swayed, he got the sense that he might have been falling. Then, nothing but the harsh hissing of static overwhelmed the rest of his senses, and everything went dark.
“…Tenna…? Hey, Tenna… hear me…? Oh, no…”
A shuddering jolt, and Tenna regained awareness no more than a minute later. The static had yet to fully clear from his vision, but right away, one half of his body felt heavier than the other.
“Hhh… what…?”
“Tenna!” That was Swatch’s voice beside him. “Are you alright?!”
With an all-too slow motion, he tilted his head to see that Swatch was supporting half his weight, having pulled one of Tenna’s arms around his shoulders. Had he… caught him mid-fall?
“Mmnh… s-sorry, I… must’ve had too much…”
Swatch shot a glance towards the unfinished glass still on the counter.
“Pardon the language, but I think the fuck not,” he said, his tone dripping with disbelief. At the same time, he managed to lift one hand to Tenna’s forehead, brushing his soft fur-like feathers against it if only for a fleeting moment. “Well, that explains it. You’re sick.”
Sick…? The residual static was still disorienting him, but the word echoed in his mind tauntingly.
Swatch gazed up at Tenna’s screen then, concern flashing in his eyes, and after a pause, he asked, “I, uh… don’t suppose that’s normal for you, is it?”
“…Huhh? Is what—”
“…Ah, never mind.” The bartender adjusted his stance, doing his best to better support Tenna as he leaned heavily against him. “We need to get you home.”
“No,” Tenna groaned in protest, “I—I can go back myself… don’t need help…”
“Tenna. Sir. You quite literally collapsed in front of me and you can barely stand,” Swatch emphasized. “I cannot, in good conscience, allow you to walk out that door unassisted.”
Despite only just having learned of the fever gripping him, it seemed as though it had made itself right at home, his mind already slipping away into its dense fog. “Don’t… deserve it,” he mumbled, unable to stop himself in time.
Swatch paused, glancing up at him with an unreadable expression. “Nonsense,” he said, working to maintain a patient tone. “You’re ill and you matter just as much as anyone here, valued customer or not. That, and I’ve come to rather enjoy our late-night conversations, so I’m in no rush to see them end. Now, please, let me help you.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Tenna felt himself relax a little, too exhausted to keep up the tension in his body. He’d been thoroughly tired all day—all week, really—but it seemed it was finally catching up to him all at once.
“…Thank you,” he breathed, relenting at last.
“Of course. Let’s get you home.”
With that, Swatch managed to lead the two of them out of the café and, after taking a moment to swap the sign up front and lock the door, they began heading up the darkened path towards the castle. Meanwhile, Tenna fought to hold up as much of his own weight as he could, but it was proving more difficult than it should have. He was still moderately dizzy and his vision was blurry to match, making each step a frustrating challenge.
He could only hope that most of the other residents had gone home by now, given how he must’ve looked like he was being dragged straight to an AA meeting. He could name quite a few of his own employees that would have a field day if they happened to see him like this.
Thankfully, the streets seemed empty at this time of night, and they reached the castle foyer without incident. The hallways beyond it, however, were a little less welcoming. With the way the blue torchlight was dancing and flickering along the corridors, the shadows they cast were disorienting in the way they shimmered about, the dark tendrils writhing and lashing at him with reckless abandon.
Tenna tried to shy his gaze away from them, but they were inescapable, lining every wall like a dark, ethereal maw threatening to swallow him whole the further in they went. For a moment, his breathing had quickened considerably, and he searched desperately for some way to ground himself. But for whatever reason, not even the light from his own screen seemed capable of dispelling them. The walls were closing in; he was cornered, helpless, trapped—
“Hold on, we’re almost there,” Swatch said, readjusting his grip again.
Tenna took in a single, shuddering breath, snapped back into reality by the sound of his voice. That’s right—for once, he wasn’t alone here, was he? He could feel the reassuring pressure of Swatch’s body against his, still keeping a surprisingly steady pace despite Tenna’s leaning, and willed himself to focus on it for just a little longer.
Soon enough, they made it to the entrance to Tenna’s room, the sight of the large silver doors flooding him with an unfamiliar sense of relief. The moment they entered, Swatch led him to the couch centered in the living room, where he was slowly and delicately laid down, separating the two of them at last.
“Mmhh...” Tenna groaned as soon as his body had begun to sink into the soft linen. Already, the feeling of being off his feet was a godsend, though it did little to prevent the room from spinning as he tilted his head back slightly.
Swatch looked no less concerned as he glanced over Tenna’s supine form. “I'll fetch you some water. Be right back.”
He was gone before Tenna could protest, but it wouldn't have mattered. Not long after he’d disappeared into the kitchen, Tenna winced as yet another sharp, stabbing sensation burrowed its way through his casing, drawing out another pained groan from the back of his throat. He’d had his fair share of migraines throughout his career, but this one was getting bad enough to make him question his life choices.
Then, as he raised a hand to his head in a desperate gamble to soothe it even a little, he paused, feeling his screen flicker in a protest of its own. Held under its glow, he noticed that his glove—normally snow-white in color—appeared vividly and inexplicably red.
He blinked, his screen stuttering and shutting off for a moment before returning to life as he tried to clear his vision. No good—not only did his glove look the same against his light, but now everything seemed to have a reddish hue to it as though he’d literally put on rose-tinted glasses. Panic sparked within him, and he glanced around frantically in the hopes that it would somehow go away, but it was no use.
Something was very, very wrong.
Soon after, Tenna heard Swatch return to the living room, and he made an effort to twist his body towards him.
“S… Swatch? I think… something’s wrong with my screen,” he called out, unable to hide the fear distorting his voice.
“Ah… yes, I thought that might not be a good sign,” Swatch replied.
Tenna’s heart nearly skidded to a halt, his tail lashing in alarm. “Wh-what’s not a good sign?!” What’s wrong with me?!
For a few seconds, the bartender merely stood where he was. Then, wordlessly, he approached, handing Tenna the glass of water he’d obtained. Confused at first, Tenna hesitated before reaching out to accept it, but as he pulled it closer, he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the surface of the glass, the sight of it making him gasp slightly.
His entire screen was horribly dim and flushed a pale red, flickering faintly as though it were struggling to maintain a picture at all. Instinctively, Tenna flooded it with static, but even that was tinted the same pale red, the color having overtaken every aspect of said picture.
“No, no, no, no…” Tenna whined, brushing a gloved hand against his screen in despair. “I can’t… not like this…”
Swatch cleared his throat awkwardly. “So… it’s not good news, I take it?”
Tenna glanced up at him anxiously. “I… I’m poisoned,” he breathed.
“Poisoned?” Swatch echoed, stiffening in alarm. “As in, someone did this to you?”
“N-no, not exactly.” He swallowed, forcing the reality of the situation down his gullet. “My cathodes… I have three of them—red, blue, and green… but if I can only display red, then the other two must be completely contaminated…” Tenna fought to keep his voice at least a little steady as he continued, rotating the glass in his hand to get a closer look at himself. “A-and even then, my red one doesn’t look too good, either… it’s too dim.”
“How did this happen, then, if I may ask? Help me understand,” Swatch said in as calm a manner as he could manage, though his gaze flashed with worry. “What do you mean by ‘contaminated?’”
“Ions—they build up in me over time and cover my cathodes like a toxin,” Tenna answered carefully as he struggled to recall what he’d been told over the years when the others had warned him against overworking himself, a habit he still had yet to kick, it seemed. “It’s supposed to be slower than this… I thought I had more time…” He locked eyes with Swatch again then. “I can’t go out like this,” he said, voice shaking despite his efforts.
“You’re in no condition to go out regardless,” Swatch reminded him. “Speaking of which… do you have a thermometer here somewhere?”
“Uh, sure. Medicine cabinet, I think,” Tenna said, flicking his tail in the direction of the bathroom. “Why—”
With a nod, Swatch disappeared before he could finish the thought. Meanwhile, Tenna managed only a sip of his water before placing the glass on the coffee table next to him and laying back down, too perturbed to bother with actually drinking much of it despite how nice it had felt against his throat. Once Swatch returned promptly with thermometer in hand, he couldn’t help eyeing it warily as he approached.
“…Do we have to—”
“Yes,” Swatch interrupted without hesitation. “Forgive me, but we’ve been acquainted long enough for me to know that you’re not well-versed in self-care, and I want to make sure you’re getting the proper attention. Now, are you able to take this yourself, or do I need to ask you to open wide?”
Tenna felt his screen heat up another notch, briefly grateful for the fact that it couldn’t get any redder if he tried. “Um, n-no, I’ve got it, thanks!”
He needed no further prompting before accepting the device and slipping it under his tongue, hating the foreign feel of the plastic and metal against it. The wait always made him feel painfully aware of just how much his body ached, and now was no exception. With each second that creeped by, he was forced to come to terms with the fact that he was uncomfortably hot, tired, and his joints hurt relentlessly.
Paired with the migraine and the recent stress, the symptoms of the poisoning should have been obvious from the start, he was realizing now that he had no choice but to focus on them. Apparently, his acting skills were still sharp as ever if he’d manage to fool even himself this thoroughly.
After a minute that felt like a century, the thermometer beeped, snapping Tenna out of his spiraling thoughts with a start. He didn’t have the energy to do much about it, nor did he particularly want to look, but to his surprise—and perhaps relief—he didn’t have to, as he felt Swatch pull the device away instead.
“102.6,” he said with a slight grimace. “You need medicine.” He turned his gaze back onto Tenna then. “Will your color go back to normal once the fever breaks?”
His antennas drooped significantly. “No, it won’t. The poisoning won’t clear by itself. I’ll… I’ll need a full repair,” he said, choking on the words a little as his voice broke. Suddenly, he was finding it awfully difficult to keep his composure. “I… I messed up, a-and now I’m broken. I shouldn’t have pushed it this far…”
“Tenna,” Swatch said, concern lacing his voice, “have you let yourself rest at all since you’ve been here?”
Tenna turned his head away, avoiding his gaze. If he’d done that, it’d be no different than now. The Lightners would lose interest, the Darkners wouldn’t have gotten to work on his new studio, and he’d still be staring obsolescence in the face. That, and he’d probably still have a headache and his shoulders would still hurt anyway—god they hurt, they never stopped hurting—
“…The show must go on, right? Haha…”
Swatch’s expression dropped. “I… sir, with all due respect, what show?”
Tenna shifted uncomfortably. The one that never ended, dancing around him until it felt like the whole world was revolving, mocking him with the threat of failure. The one that’ll kill me if I stop performing for even a second.
He opted not to answer.
Swatch sighed. “Look… I know you have a rather complicated past, and perhaps even a complicated present… but you have to rest eventually.” He paused, gingerly placing the thermometer next to the glass of water. “I don’t want to watch you wither under those imaginary stage lights you seem to think you’re always under.”
That got Tenna to tilt his head back towards Swatch, his expression undoubtedly miserable. “Too late.”
“Ah, yes, well…” He took another breath and ran a hand over the back of his neck, ruffling the feathers along the way. “Is there anything we can do to fix it? What exactly does a ‘repair’ entail?”
Tenna hesitated, doing his best to gather his feverish thoughts. He’d never developed full-blown cathode poisoning before, but he’d gotten close once, back when he’d overdriven his systems in an attempt to keep up with the demands of showbusiness. A poor choice, in hindsight. Mike had been able to treat him before it had gotten worse, but it had been far from a pleasant experience.
“Heat and electricity,” he said with a shudder. “A lot of it. It needs to be burned out of me.”
“That… sounds rather dangerous,” Swatch replied, a flicker of trepidation visible behind his glasses. “Won’t that hurt you? Or at least make your fever worse?”
“It… might.” Oh, it most definitely would. “But I’m not sure we have the right equipment for that here anyway.” He swallowed roughly. “I… I’m not going to get better, am I? I’m going to die like this.” Unusable. Worthless.
“No, you’re not,” Swatch said, his tone unshakably patient despite Tenna’s dramatization. “I think… there may be something I can do, even.”
His antennas perked up slightly at that as he continued gazing up at Swatch, his colors distorted by the red tint of his screen.
“I’m not sure about the electricity,” he continued, “but the heat is something I can provide. Color, feeling, and temperature are all closely linked, you see, and color happens to be a specialty of mine. You said you have three cathodes, correct?” When Tenna nodded, he pressed on, gesturing as he spoke. “With my magic, I believe I may be able to heat up and reactivate the color of each one by drawing from your emotions.”
Tenna took a moment to process that. “You can just… do that?” He’d come to know Swatch as a man of many talents, but this was a new one for him.
“Well... in theory. My purpose in the Light World is to draw from the passions of others, bringing their canvas of dreams to life in vivid palettes of color, after all,” he said with a slight flourish. However, his gentler expression faded then, taking on a look of severity. “But I should warn you… I’ve been told that drawing out strong emotions in this way can be… intense. We’ll need quite a variety to reach your normal color from this state; a full emotional palette, if you will.”
Tenna’s heart sped up. This… this could actually work, couldn’t it? “I think I could increase the voltage to my cathodes manually. Overdriving—I’ve done it once before.” Sure, it hadn’t been the best idea last time, but now he had a reason for it. It’d be fine. “That should be enough current to break through the poison with the heat.”
Right? Right. Probably. It was a little hard to think clearly.
Swatch blinked. “Tenna, did you hear what I just said? Even if that’s the case, this won’t be an easy experience. I want to help you, but I’m not sure it’s safe to—”
“Please,” Tenna said, unable to stop his voice from wavering in desperation. If there was any chance he could be fixed here and now, he’d try grasping at it no matter how badly his hands were shaking. “I… I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know if anyone else will…” He swallowed again, forcing back the static that had begun to manifest across his screen. “You’re the only one who’s even noticed…”
Fuck. He was utterly pathetic right now, wasn’t he? Swatch probably wouldn’t want to offer him anything other than pity.
And yet, as the bartender’s gaze came to rest on him, his glasses having slipped just low enough to unveil his eyes from this angle, Tenna could only see compassionate worry. It was a look he was most familiar with through the lens of others: it was the look that Toriel had given Asgore when he’d come home one night, too exhausted to speak about the difficult case that had been troubling him for weeks. It was the look Dess had given Asriel when he’d broken his arm and she’d come to visit him, comforting him with a bowl of ice cream on the couch in front of the TV—in front of Tenna.
It was the look of countless lovers brushing a hand against the flushed cheek of their sick partners in dozens upon dozens of movies and shows burned into his mind forevermore. His heart fluttered faintly in his chest.
“…Are you absolutely sure about this?”
Tenna gave a small nod. “Please,” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.
“…Very well,” Swatch said with a sigh. “Sit up, then, if you can. I’ll need to be close for this to work.”
Obediently, Tenna did his best to comply, pushing himself upright on trembling limbs. His shoulders and elbow joints ached in protest, not to mention the fact that the fever made his head spin from the motion, but at the very least, he was able to sit up where he was.
Now that he'd made room, Swatch took his place on the other end of the couch, settling in as though he'd done so dozens of times before.
“Good. Now, lay back down,” he instructed, keeping his gaze trained on Tenna.
Hesitant at first, Tenna obliged, slowly leaning his way back down against the couch. As soon as he was close enough, Tenna flinched slightly as Swatch brushed his hands against the sides of his head, gently guiding it down onto his lap, surprised yet again by how soft his feathers felt against his screen’s casing. Now that he was staring up at Swatch, his hands awkwardly clasped together on top of his stomach, Tenna’s screen flickered involuntarily, trying in vain to brighten itself.
“Comfortable?” Swatch asked.
Tenna cleared his throat and gave a nervous smile. “Ah—ahahaha... s-sorry, this is all so sudden, isn’t it? Normally I'd at least offer to buy you a drink first!”
“Hm? What do you mean?”
Fantastic. As if this couldn’t get any more awkward than it already was.
“Uhhh, you know... just something they say on TV! Haha!”
By some miracle, Swatch chuckled at that. “I’m afraid I haven’t had much opportunity to watch TV in recent years… but perhaps, after you’re better, you would allow me the chance to indulge a little?”
Every wire in Tenna’s body tensed up all at once. He could practically feel his red cathode struggling to flare back to life on its own. “O-oh! Yes! Of course!” He said, his antennas sticking straight out until they touched the arm of the couch. Then, more quietly, he added, “I, uh… I’d like that.”
Swatch nodded, smiling warmly at him in return. “Are you ready?”
“Oh—one second.”
The changes he’d made to his systems last time he’d attempted this were still in place, stored in memory somewhere within his circuits. All he had to do was turn them back on. For the next moment or so, he fiddled clumsily with his blazer and tie, working to expose his upper chest plate and the maintenance panel built onto it, prying it open with unsteady claws. A few seconds more, and Tenna managed a quick swapping of connections from one circuit to the other before closing it again, all while avoiding Swatch’s gaze as best he could.
Immediately, he drew in a sharp breath, shuddering at the feeling of his voltage levels rising well above their intended baseline. It was a strange flurry of sensations that flooded him with a renewed sense of energy, though it was nothing but an illusion, and with the fever already ravaging his body, it only served to worsen the shaking of his limbs. A temporary boost that would inevitably make him crash and burn even harder after the fact—something that Mike had adamantly warned him against back in the day, before he’d seemed to have forgotten that Tenna had ever done this in the first place—but for now, it was a necessary one.
“Hah… okay, I’m ready,” he breathed.
“Then let us begin.”
At his word, Swatch moved his hands to rest against the sides of Tenna’s head, forming a gentle connection between the two of them.
“Just relax,” he said, keeping his voice low and steady. “We’ll start with an easy one. Green—a color often thought to be associated with negativity. Envy, sickness, greed… it is my belief that it’s one of the more misunderstood ones. But in truth, it may also represent security, vitality, and happiness. Tenna, I want you to focus on those feelings now. Think of a time when you felt safe, at peace.”
Already, Tenna could feel himself being lulled into a trance by Swatch’s voice, the prior tension melting away at last. “Mmh…”
Suddenly, a soft, pale green glow began to rise from each side of his periphery as Swatch’s magic flickered to life. “That’s it. Just a little further…”
Safe. Well. Happy…
It had been so, so long since he’d felt like that. But even then, a memory surfaced to the front of his mind right away, and in a matter of seconds, he found himself awash in its soothing light as he was whisked somewhere far away.
Sunlight. He could feel its warmth gracing his casing, the delicate rays descending from the open windows behind him in long, golden beams. A gentle breeze stirred, its soft whispers brushing against his antennas—a rare feeling that could only have been brought about by a simple summer’s day.
It had been quiet and peaceful throughout the morning and afternoon in the Dreemurr household, and by now, most of the studio on the flipside of reality—the Dark World—had drifted off, overcome by the tranquility besetting them. And yet, Tenna found himself pacing restlessly back and forth across his empty stage, his tail flicking in anticipation with each turn.
He wasn’t entirely alone, however. Below him, Elnina and Lanino exchanged a glance.
“Tenna, dear,” Lanino spoke first, attempting to snap him out of his stupor, “I think it’s safe to say that the weather outside will be just as lovely for the rest of the day. The kids will probably be out playing till dusk, so why don’t you come down from there for a bit?”
“Yes,” Elnina agreed, “you should save your energy for a while. Why not take a break with everyone else?”
Tenna came to a halt, turning his backlit gaze onto them. “What? No! Don’t you two know what day it is?”
They looked at one another briefly again.
“Um… June 28th?” Elnina offered.
“CORRECT! 10 Points on the board for—wait, no!” Tenna shouted with a shake of his head. “Heh, sorry, force of habit. Yes, it’s the 28th, but more importantly, it’s the day Azzy will have saved enough for that new game he and Kris have been wanting all month!”
“Right, okay,” said Lanino, “but do you really have to pace like that? You’re making the both of us anxious.”
“Of course I do! They could be home any minute now—I’ve got to stay limber!” Tenna raised his arms up dramatically as if to accentuate his point. He heard a sigh from one of them, but it mattered little to him.
“If you say so…”
“Would you at least like something to eat before then?” Elnina asked.
Tenna relaxed his stance a little at that. “Hmm… well, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to—”
Suddenly, he perked his antennas in response to the sound of the Dreemurr’s front door being swung open, echoing throughout the household and the studio alike.
“Ah, that must be them! Just the coffee will have to suffice—now, off with the two of you! I’ve got work to do!” Tenna said, sweeping his tail excitedly.
The weather duo merely exchanged a shrug.
“Alright, but let us know if you need anything, okay?” Elnina said.
“Sure, sure,” Tenna replied dismissively, though he doubted he’d need to. He was about to have everything he needed right here, in a sense.
With that, the two of them departed the showroom, leaving Tenna to switch his focus solely onto the Light World. Already, he could hear the various sounds of the Lightners approaching him, chattering amongst themselves as they entered the living room.
“…C’mon, hurry it up already!”
Dess. With her playful, rebellious cadence, Tenna could recognize her voice anywhere, and his tail flicked happily.
“I’m working on it!” That was Asriel—from his limited perspective, Tenna could see him struggling with the plastic casing of the newest edition of Smashing Fighters that he was holding. “Seriously, what the heck do they make these things out of?!”
“You’re just weak,” Dess teased, lightly grazing his arm with her fist. “Give it here.”
“What? No! You’ll probably break it,” Asriel said, holding it up and away from her. Dess laughed in response, but it wasn’t much longer before he’d managed to wrest the disc from its plastic prison. “Ha—got it! See?”
Dess rolled her eyes. “Just put it in already. Mom said I’ve gotta be home in like, two hours.”
With a nod, Asriel slipped the disc into the console, powering on Tenna’s screen at the same time. The warmth and brightness of it spread throughout him all at once, the feeling of the energy coursing through his wires just as invigorating as it always was. Soon enough, the title screen of the game appeared, making his heart skip with anticipation.
“Oh, wait… crap, I forgot we only have two controllers,” Asriel said, looking disappointed. He turned then, and Tenna saw that Kris was behind them, waiting quietly on the couch. “Here, Kris, you and Dess can play first.”
“What? No way, dude, you’re the one who bought the game,” Dess argued. “You should get a turn first.”
“Yeah, but I’ll get to play it whenever I want. You just said you have to go home soon, and I promised Kris they’d get to play as soon as I got back, so…”
Asriel… so selfless, as always, Tenna thought. He couldn’t help but feel a burst of pride on Toriel’s behalf.
“Sounds like you’re just scared to fight me,” Dess said with a wry smile, her tone returning to a teasing one. “What, worried I’ll kick your ass in this game, too?”
“Dess! What if my mom hears?” Though he’d lowered his voice then, Asriel couldn’t hide the smile of amusement forming across his face.
“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” she replied with a giggle. Then, as she turned away next, she said, “Let’s ask Kris. Who would you rather play with first?”
For a brief moment, Kris remained silent, glancing between the two older teens with a near unreadable expression. Then, in their typical low, mumbling voice, they answered, “…Doesn’t matter, I’ll kick both your asses.”
Asriel gasped. “Kris!”
Meanwhile, Dess practically burst into laughter. “Hell yeah! That’s the spirit, Kris!”
Tenna winced a little, though he, too, was still smiling wide. He sure hoped Toriel wasn’t nearby after all. But as they began to settle in more, the three of them close together on the couch across from him, all seemed well as they’d quickly become enamored with the screen in front of them, sharing more laughter interspersed with shouts of excitement as they took turns with the game.
They’re having so much fun! He could feel their collective joy as though it were his own, and Tenna found himself becoming more and more relaxed as the minutes went by. With the whole of summer ahead of them, it seemed like he had many more days like this one to look forward to. The thought made him giddy—yes, he’d have many more days just like this, spending time with his Lightners—his family.
And yet, despite it all, something dark began to creep inside his mind.
…What happens when the novelty wears off? What happens when they… move on? Once the thoughts started to flood in, it was impossible to stop them. They’ll find something else to do. Something better. I’ll be… I’ll be alone again.
His next breath caught in his throat, tightened by the sudden ache in his chest.
“…Tenna?”
He paused, confused. Who was calling out to him? It was just him here, wasn’t it?
“Tenna? Focus, please,” the voice called out again, distorted by the haze surrounding his mind. “Your color’s darkening a little.”
A sudden jolt shot through him, bringing with it a spike of pain in his head. That… that was Swatch’s voice. This is… just a memory? It’s not real?
“It’s okay, Tenna. Remember, you’re safe. I’m right here with you.”
Right—he’d come here for a reason… but it was getting harder to hold on to the joy he’d managed to recall, always so fleeting in his grasp.
“…Swatch? I… I can’t—”
His screen flickered uneasily, but once his vision steadied itself, he found that the scene of the memory had shifted ahead. The kids were no longer in front of him, the living room considerably darker as dusk had descended over the town at last. Tenna’s screen was off in the Light World, but between the long session and the sunlight that had been washing over him until recently, he felt hot and dizzy. Perhaps he should’ve taken Elnina up on her offer for food earlier after all.
Now, all he wanted to do was sleep. But before he could truly begin to drift off, he sensed someone approaching him again, snapping him back into a state of alertness.
“Oh, dear, would you look at this mess,” came the voice of Toriel, soft and silky against his antennas. He worked to clear his vision a little, though for some reason, a blurry spot remained on his left side. Still, he could see her well enough, leaning down to pick up the controllers that had been left scattered about.
“Those kids,” she murmured, chuckling to herself, “how many times have I told them, now?”
So many, Tenna thought, smiling in amusement.
Then, as Toriel finished placing the controllers neatly where they belonged, she paused, running her kindly gaze over him thoroughly.
“Oh—you've got a smudge. One moment; I'll be right back.”
Tenna's heart leapt as he watched her return a moment later, brandishing a microfiber cloth and a bottle of glass cleaner.
“Here we are,” she said, spritzing his screen once. Tenna flinched internally at the feeling of liquid coming into contact with him, but as soon as Toriel began wiping away the debris, he could feel himself begin to melt into her touch, the tension in his circuits dissipating over time. It felt almost dream-like, being cared for like this. A few passes, and his vision had cleared, too, the blurriness gone at last.
Th-thank you...
“There—much better!” She chimed, taking a second to admire her work. “Oh, your antenna looks a bit bent out of shape, does it not? Here, let me fix that right up, dear.”
Tenna merely held still as she began adjusting his left one, though it wasn't like he had much choice. At first, the motion made him wince as it filled his left-sided hearing with harsh, staticky white noise, but once it had been properly aligned, he sighed with relief as the dizziness he'd been feeling began to fade as well.
Meanwhile, Toriel was humming softly to herself, the sound wonderfully sweet and soothing as it resonated within his tired nerves. How he often wished he could replay it in his mind over and over—but alas, this, too, was nothing more than a memory, an illusion of past joy that had since been drowned out by the oncoming storm.
Her voice was becoming distant, and Tenna strained to hear it just a little longer.
Please, don't go—
But the more he struggled, the darker everything was becoming, enveloping him in a hazy shadow that consumed all in its path. She was fading, as was the whole of the Dreemurr living room, the image shuddering and distorting until only the void underneath it remained.
No, not yet! Please, don't take me away!
But it was only fading faster yet, and with a violent start, Tenna was thrust back into reality, a final cry of desperation escaping his lips: “Mama, please don't leave me!”
Suddenly, another hand moved to stroke his forehead, just as caring and gentle as hers had been. His body was trembling uncontrollably, and each breath came as more of a shaky gasp.
“Easy, easy now,” Swatch said, doing his best to provide a low, soothing tone of his own. “Tenna? Are you alright?”
Tenna's screen blinked a few times as he worked to remember where he was, immediately mortified by the realization of what had just happened.
“Uhh... sorry ‘bout that,” he said, sheepishly angling his head to the side in Swatch’s lap.
“It's quite alright. That kind of thing is to be expected. I did warn you, didn’t I?”
Tenna gave a small nod. He had indeed, but even then, it had been far more intense than he’d been prepared for. However, as his mind readjusted a little further, his antennas stiffened somewhat.
“Could you, uh… see that? My memory?”
“Not… exactly,” Swatch answered, shifting his gaze slightly. “I can’t see what you’re experiencing directly, but I can sort of feel it, if that makes sense. I can feel the flow of emotions and get a sense of how they’ve shaped you. Kind of like how art informs one of the artist, I suppose.”
“…Ah.” That didn’t entirely make sense to his clouded mind, but it was enough for him to feel self-conscious. “So, this is one hell of a way to get to know me, then, is what you’re saying? Hah…”
“That’s one way of putting it,” Swatch said with a warm grin. “It really is quite beautiful, though. The love you feel for them—your Lightner family, I assume?”
“They were my family, yes…” Gods, it hurt to think about how much he missed them. His chest was aching all over again. “They’ve, uh… moved on, I think.”
Swatch gave a slight nod of sympathy. “I see. I’m… sorry. But even if it’s in the past, that love has clearly shaped you in the best of ways. That kind of bond… it’s not something I’ve had for myself. I’m happy to serve my Queen, of course; I’ve never been one for the limelight such as yourself. So… thank you, for sharing those feelings with me.”
Oh…
Tenna nodded, though he couldn’t help squirming a little. This whole thing was turning out to be a lot more intimate than he was expecting… but deep down, he was finding that perhaps, beyond the shame, it was what he’d been needing for a long, long time now. To really, truly feel seen, not just as something to be watched, but as something—someone—more than that…
It was almost incomprehensible to him. He gave a nervous half-smile in return, though it didn’t reflect the true nature of his thoughts. There’s a lot in here that I don’t want him—or anyone—to see…
“Anyway,” Swatch continued, “that went well enough, I’d say. It seems to have worked; your screen is looking a lot more yellow.”
Yellow...?
Tenna sat up abruptly, his previous thought forgotten. “Is that good? It doesn't sound good.” He put a hand up to his screen. “Am I dying?!”
Swatch huffed a laugh. “No, I don’t think so. Combined with the red coloration you already had, it means your green cathode is fully functional again.”
Tenna lowered his hand again. “Oh. Right. I knew that.”
“But… hmm, it’s not quite the right hue,” Swatch pointed out, tilting his head slightly as he examined him. “You said your red cathode isn’t working well either, yes? Let’s focus on clearing the poison from that one next.”
“S-sure,” Tenna said with another nod, eager to lay back down. The sudden way he’d forced himself upright had dizzied him, and now that he was thinking about it, he could feel the added heat coursing through one of his cathodes with reckless abandon. He was thankful beyond words that it had worked, but he’d be damned if he said he wasn’t horribly uncomfortable right now, his casing gradually becoming riddled with sweat.
As he moved to rest his head against Swatch’s lap again, he seemed to take notice of the discomfort as well.
“Do you want to take a break before we continue? You feel warmer,” he said, gazing at him in concern.
“No, it’s fine,” Tenna insisted. “I want to get this over with.”
A break wouldn’t fix him. Only pushing through would, no matter how much it hurt. They needed to keep going.
Swatch looked hesitant, but after a moment, he conceded. “Very well. Red, then—most typically associated with anger, one of the most potent emotions of all, as I’m sure you’re aware. But in this state, it could be quite dangerous to invoke uncontrolled rage within you, so I think it would be best to focus on something else.” He raised his hands to the sides of Tenna’s head once more, the magic contained within his palms humming softly beside him. “Passion. Think of something that sparked a fire in your heart; something that filled you with the drive to keep going, lighting your path even on the darkest nights.”
Tenna took a deep breath, readying himself as best he could. As he began to relax, he could still hear Swatch’s voice above him.
“I’ve seen the way you command the stage with such grace and confidence. Show me that.”
His brow furrowed nervously. If he wanted passion, there was only one place his mind was likely to wander towards. A place he really, really didn’t want to go anywhere near; not now, not yet.
But of course, he didn’t have a choice.
With the next exhale, Tenna slipped away, the magic entrancing him like a thick fog until he was no longer in his home in Castle Town, but in another distant time and place, filled with the promises of what could have been.