Work Text:
Ink marred the page. Spamton's signature was shaky, but it was there on the contract. It was done. Finally.
Tenna tried to lighten the mood after seeing Spamton's hands shake. "See! Nothing bad happened! I told you you worry too much-"
Ringringring~
Spamton's face was blank. He moved almost robotically as he stood up to answer the phone. Tenna sighed and sat down, knowing how much Spamton hated it whenever he tried to listen in on his calls (and maybe he didn't want to dwell on the look on Spamton's face…). It was fine, anyway! After Spamton's call, they would talk through the terms of the contract again, both of them would be okay, and they'd both be big shots together! Tenna figured he really needed to stop worrying about all of this. Everything was fine! He needed to ignore the feeling in his gut that something terrible was about to happen-
The sound of the reciever hitting the floor made Tenna turn around. Spamton's face was deathly pale, his eyes dark. He turned and ran out of the room without a word.
"Wha- Hey! Don't just run off like that!" Tenna scrambled to get up and follow after him. He chased him down the hallway, grabbing his arm and keeping him in place. "Where are you going?!"
"Let me go!" Spamton screeched. He tried to pry Tenna's hand off of him, kicking and fussing in an attempt to get away. A few Zappers and Pippinses peeked down the hall to see what all the noise was about.
"What the heck has gotten into you? You're making a scene! Stop freaking out!"
He stopped thrashing for a second. Instead of responding verbally, Spamton closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and a loud pop sounded throughout the hall as he ripped his arm out of his socket. Tenna let go and froze in shock, Spamton taking his opportunity to run.
He ran outside and began patting himself down, trying to find his keys. His keys. Shit, he must have left them in his suit jacket. He didn't have time to think or go back inside. He had to just keep running.
Spamton was so focused on getting out of there that hardly processed it when he tripped on the curb and crashed against the pavement. His face hurt where it scraped against the asphalt. His arm hurt where it had been pulled out of its socket. Light snow fell from the sky, and every flake that landed on him felt like a needle in his skin.
His conscious mind screamed at him to get up, to move, to keep running. But his body felt completely limp. Like a marionette that had been set down. His vision blurred as his adrenaline rush slowly died and dread set in.
It felt so long, but was realistically only a few minutes, before a tall figure came into his bleary vision and knelt down next to him. "Spamton?! Oh my God, are you okay?"
Spamton couldn't speak. His mouth felt like it had been glued shut, his throat dry. Two large hands helped him sit up.
"You can't talk. Okay. I'm gonna pop your shoulder back into place, okay? It'll hurt a little."
Spamton barely felt the pop through the numbness and his racing thoughts. He barely registered when Tenna lifted him up and carried him back into his dressing room, and propped him up on the couch, and cleaned him up with a warm towel. His head hurt so bad, and his heart was pounding in his chest.
"Let's just stay here tonight, Spam. I don't want you running off and getting into trouble. What if you got hurt and I wasn't around to help?"
He hated being talked down to like that. Tenna knew better than to treat him like a helpless child. If he could talk or move at that moment, he would have chewed Tenna out like he never had before.
…But he still hadn't regained control of his body, and he couldn't deny that Tenna was just trying to protect him. It might have felt nice to be cared for, if he didn't feel so awful.
Tenna positioned him to lie down with a pillow and a blanket and made sure he was comfortable before sitting down on the other side of the couch and powering off. Spamton stared at the wall across from him. He felt sick. He felt helpless. He closed his eyes, trying to focus on ignoring the pain, and he slowly drifted off to sleep.
…
A hand brushed his hair back. Spamton gasped and shot up, his muscles clearly unhappy with the events that transpired yesterday. He coughed and tried to find his bearings.
"Are you okay? You looked like you were having a nightmare. How are you feeling?"
"I was jus'… no, it's nothing. I can move again." He looked down at his hands and shivered. "Just… a bit shaken, I guess…" He rubbed his shoulder, the soreness really setting in after the chaos was over.
"What happened on the phone yesterday?"
Spamton went pale again. He squeezed his hands into fists, feeling them begin to shake. Tenna sat down next to him and touched his non-injured shoulder.
"I want to help you! I just want to know what's wrong so I can help."
"No, no, I can't tell you! It's… Maybe I should jus' go-"
"We're not having another repeat of what happened yesterday." Tenna sounded a bit frustrated. "You're staying here. I don't want you running off and getting hurt where I can't help."
Spamton squeezed his fists and averted his gaze, but he didn't try to run away again. "…I still won't tell ya."
Tenna turned to get a proper look at him. He looked awful, plain and simple. His posture was stiff, his eyes were red, his face was pale, and he had started breathing a bit heavier. He sighed and shrugged. "Be that way. But I've gotta get ready for work! I'll get you a coffee and a TV Dinner." He looked at Spamton for approval, but Spamton had already started spacing out again.
He gave one final glance at Spamton before leaving to go to his own dressing room next door to freshen up. It never took too long for Tenna to get ready; TVs didn't need to shower, so he changed his clothes, cleaned his screen, and oiled up some of his squeaky joints before going out to start the day. He stopped by a vending machine to pick up a TV Dinner and a cup of coffee Spamton always bought before returning to Spamton's dressing room.
"Eat up, I know you get cranky when you don't eat. I'll see you after work."
"Mhm."
Tenna set the food and drink on the coffee table and quietly shut the door as he left. He made a mental note of how strange that was. Normally Spamton would throw a fit for daring to call him cranky or use any "baby words" while addressing him, so what could have possibly been on his mind to make him so distracted he wouldn't even react to that?
Working was a distraction for Tenna. He couldn't spend much time mentally fretting over Spamton when there were always so many sets to finish, boards to program, scripts to rehearse, and shows to put on! The Dreemurrs needed him, after all! It didn't matter if he was worried, or if he wanted to spend more time with Spamton, or if he wanted to check to see if Spamton was okay. Nothing mattered more than the lightners.
…Right?
The other employees noticed that Tenna was a nervous wreck by the time the workday ended. As soon as Toriel left the living room to put the kids to bed, he sent everyone home and went right down the hall to where Spamton's dressing room was located. What if Spamton had snuck out while he was working? What if he was out dying in a back alley somewhere? Tenna opened the door without knocking.
Spamton was sitting in the same place on the couch he had been that morning, with the food and drink completely untouched. His eyes looked hazy. Had he moved at all?
"…Spam?"
"Ah!" Spamton jolted and looked up. Was he really so out of it that he didn't hear the door open? "Oh. When did ya get here?"
"Just now. How's your shoulder doing?"
"'s fine."
Tenna stared at the food on the coffee table. He made a show of drooping his antennae and shrinking down a full foot. In the past, Spamton would always fold to his exaggerated acts of pity-garnering, and he figured manipulating him into eating wasn't the worst thing in the world.
But Spamton didn't even notice his obviously sour mood, already lost in his mind again. Tenna quickly understood that he had to be more direct.
"You didn't eat today."
"Huh? Wasn't hungry."
"Don't say that. I know that's not true."
"…It's just…" Spamton started fidgeting with his hands as his eyes darted around the room. "I think somethin's gonna happen to me. And I don't want ya ta see it."
"Something? Like what?"
"…I don't know yet." He scratched at his wrist. Tenna had taken notice of that habit; It had started a few months ago. Spamton fretted over his wrists, fingers, and neck, but now he was doing it more and more often. His feathers were starting to look a little thin in the areas he scratched at.
"Well, don't forget that we're partners. I'm on your side! I want to help you!"
"Mhm."
Clearly Spamton wasn't one for talking in this state. Tenna decided to try to get Spamton to eat one more time. "If you don't eat, I'll be worried about you all night. You don't want that, do you?"
For the first time since last night, Spamton made a face, looking a little annoyed. Tenna figured any emotion was an improvement. Spamton picked up the now-cold TV Dinner and reluctantly ate a few small bites before putting it back down. "I'm not hungry."
Tenna smiled at the minor success and clapped his hands. "Well, I'm glad you tried! It's getting a bit late now, I figured I'd do some more work before hitting the hay. Do you want me to leave, or should I bring my work here?"
"…" Of course, Spamton was already spacing out again.
Tenna stood up and left, returning a few minutes later with a hefty stack of paper on a clipboard. "Then I'll just revise this script for a little bit here."
An hour passed without a single word exchanged. Eventually Tenna felt a soft bump against his side, and he looked over to find Spamton leaning against him, his eyes shut and breathing softly. Spamton's body was cold, colder than it should have been. Tenna wrapped an arm around Spamton to try to warm him up and kept working. When he was ready to leave, he wrapped Spamton up in his blanket and kissed him before heading home for the night.
* * *
This routine became their new normal. Tenna would check on him every morning, bring him some food, work all day, and then check on Spamton again before going home. Spamton seemed fine with staying in his dressing room all day, usually staring into space or sleeping.
Even though he was no longer trying to fight or run away, Spamton wasn't feeling much better. He kept scratching at his joints and picking at his feathers, and even though Tenna brought him nesting materials, he refused to make a nest or anything of the sort. If he wasn't on the couch, he would be hiding in a corner or under his desk, shivering and refusing to get up no matter what Tenna did. Tenna worried about him, of course, but he didn't seem to be in direct danger, so Tenna simply tried to help wherever he could.
One day, when Kris and Asriel were at school and Toriel and Asgore were at work, Tenna decided to take a short lunch break to check on Spamton. He assumed it would go as it always had; he would do some paperwork in Spamton's dressing room to keep him company, and then he would go back to his normal work before the family could get home.
When he opened the door to the dressing room, he paused. The scent of iron hit him before he could process anything else.
The room was empty. A streaky trail of blood led from the couch to the ensuite bathroom. Tenna covered his mouth to suppress the scream building up in his throat and ran to the bathroom to find Spamton. The worst possible outcomes ran through his mind in the few seconds it took for him to reach the room.
Spamton sat curled around the toilet, coughing and heaving into the bowl, his face hidden by his arms. He was hunched over, shirtless, and his back…
Three deep wounds cut into his shoulder blades and back where his wings and tail should have been, pooling blood onto the floor around him. There was definitely too much blood on the floor for his small body to survive without much longer. Tenna ran up to him and started fretting, desperately trying to figure out what he should say or where he should put his hands.
"Oh, oh my God! What happened to your wings?! Are you okay?! Oh my-"
Spamton threw up again. His entire body was shaking like a leaf in a storm.
"Okay, okay!" Tenna tried to think instead of freaking out. "Okay, I know there's a first aid kit somewhere. We'll stop the bleeding then let's take you back to Cyber World! I'm sure someone can help you there!"
Spamton gave him the smallest nod, and Tenna took off running. He came back with a first aid kit and tried his best to keep his hands steady as he cleaned the wounds. The pathetic little sobs Spamton let out when the antiseptic washed over his wounds made Tenna want to cry, but he tried his hardest to keep his composure for Spamton's sake.
Packing and covering the wounds was even worse. Every touch made Spamton yelp, or gag, or heave, and Tenna was sure he would have put up a fight if his body wasn't actively bleeding out. Tenna shushed him and whispered soft nothings in an attempt to keep Spamton as calm as he could as he taped the gauze to his back.
As soon as the bleeding was stemmed, Tenna scooped him up and carried him as carefully as possible out of the room and to his car. Spamton's body was freezing cold. His pulse was racing. Tenna set him down in the passenger seat and rushed to start the car.
"I think I have some soda here… Here, drink this. It'll make you feel a little better." It wasn't the best healing item in TV World, but it was all he had in a rush. Spamton sucked it down and felt his HP raise just enough for him to stay awake and not pass out from the pain. He tried to cast his healing spells on himself, but the little angels kept dissipating into green sparkles before they could do much. "Hey, don't overexert yourself! We're getting help now!" Spamton curled up in his seat and mumbled something miserable-sounding, more green sparkles trying and failing to heal him.
As soon as Tenna parked the car in Cyber City, Spamton turned to him and muttered the first comprehensible thing he'd said all day, "Don't ya dare let 'em see me like this." He was still so picky about his public image. If they weren't in the middle of a crisis, Tenna might have laughed. Instead, he took off his tailcoat and wrapped it around Spamton in an attempt to disguise the blood and make him look more put-together.
Going to Cyber City was the right choice. The Ambyu-Lances were much more knowledgable and helpful than the Pippinses or Zappers would have been, and Spamton was thankful for the shred of anonymity provided by going to a different world. He was rushed into a private room, and the Ambyu-Lances began stabilizing him with healing magic and giving him transfusions to replace the blood he lost.
Spamton lied on his side in the medical cot, shivering and shaking from the pain. Tenna held his hand tight. "We're here. We're getting help. You'll feel better in no time!"
"…It hurts…"
"I know, but you'll be okay. They said we might even be able to go home today!"
"…Tenna?"
"Yeah?"
"Did ya really take me to Cyber City when ya should be working?"
"Oh? I guess I did! I was so worried about you, I wasn't even thinking about…" Tenna suddenly felt awful. The kids had to be home by now. What would they watch? Did Mike know to put on some reruns for them? And did he really choose Spamton over his lightners? He looked back at him, but Spamton had already closed his eyes and started dozing off again.
…Well, maybe choosing Spamton wasn't so bad…
After a few hours of rest, Spamton was cleared to go home. He held Tenna's hand as they walked back to the car. The stress on his body made him dizzy enough that he didn't trust his ability to walk straight without help, leaning further into Tenna as they got closer to the car.
The drive home was quiet. Tenna had recovered past the initial shock and fear from the event, and Spamton was awake enough to talk about it. "…So… your wings and tail…"
"Yeah…"
"What happened? They don't just fall off, do they?"
"…I knew something was gonna happen… fuck, fuckin' hell…" Spamton was curled up as much as he could in his seat, leaning against the window and watching the streetlights pass by. His back hurt too much to lean against the seat normally.
"Who… who did this? I mean, why would anyone do that to you? And how? There wasn't anyone else in the dressing room, was there?"
"…Why…" Spamton sighed and rolled down his window, leaning his arms against the car door. "I feel sick again. Need some fresh air."
Tenna needed to say something to lighten the mood. "Think of it this way! You said something bad would happen, and it did, but now you're okay! We're only up from here!"
"…"
Tenna quickly decided it would be best to leave Spamton alone for a bit. Clearly he wasn't feeling well enough to talk.
By the time they got back to the studio, Spamton was asleep in his seat. It had been a long day for him, after all. Tenna lifted him up as carefully as he could to not wake him and carried him inside.
Spamton's dressing room still looked like a body had been dragged through it, and Tenna shuddered at the idea of Spamton sleeping in there with the sight and smell of blood. "MIKE!" he called out to nowhere in particular, "I want this room clean by morning!" If he got some Pippinses or Zappers to clean it, they'd probably blab about it, and then the whole studio would know, and Spamton would never forgive him. Mike was always so trustworthy to handle situations like this.
In the meantime, Tenna carried Spamton to his own dressing room. He laid Spamton down on his couch, making sure to position him on his side so as to not disturb his back any more, and gave him a kiss on the forehead. He spared a final glance back before leaving for the night.
* * *
"Gooood morning~!" Tenna entered his dressing room with boundless energy, hoping his enthusiasm would help cheer Spamton up after the mess that had happened yesterday. Whenever Kris was upset, a bright slapstick cartoon would always cheer them up, so surely some over-the-top comedy would bring a smile to Spamton's face! …He hoped it would…
Surprisingly, Spamton was sitting up on the couch, looking a little less dazed than he had in days prior. "Mornin', Tens."
"Oh, you look better!" Tenna rushed to sit down next to him. "How are you feeling? Does your back feel better?"
"Still hurts like hell, but… I thought about what ya said. About how the worst of it is over. And… I'm still here, you're still here, so…"
Spamton's hands were shaking. He clenched them into fists in his lap and smiled at Tenna. A real, genuine smile, one Tenna hadn't seen in what felt like forever.
"So, maybe things can work out! I got this far, after all!" His smile faltered. "…I don't like ta talk about it, but my life wasn't all sunshine and rainbows, y'know? But I made it outta that hellhole, and losing my wings n' tail can't be worse than that! Long as we stick together, we'll be fine!"
Spamton's smile practically glowed. Tenna was overcome with the sudden urge to squeeze him, and before he knew it, he wrapped his arms around Spamton's neck in a careful-yet-strong hug.
"Yeah! We just have to stick together! Everything will work out!"
Spamton hugged him back tight before pulling away and giving him a kiss on the lips. He laughed at the shocked face Tenna made every time without fail. "You always look at me like I'm gonna leave at any second. Didn't I just say I was stayin'?"
"You did try to run away once."
Spamton made a face. "You know I didn't mean it."
"You really had me worried there! I didn't know what was wrong with you!" Tenna defended. He cleared his throat and tried to get back on track. "That doesn't matter now! What matters is that you're feeling better!"
Spamton smiled again. A soft, tired, warm smile, one where his eyes squinted shut and his crow's feet were more pronounced. Even though he was tired. Even though he was in pain. Tenna thought that Spamton must be the most handsome man in the world with that smile.
Life started to return to how it had been before the incident. Spamton had a hard time adjusting to not having wings or a tail, especially with his balance, but he had always been an optimist. Tenna had to admire his flexibility in situations like this; though he didn't know much about Spamton's past, he knew that Spamton had always been good at adapting to difficult situations. He worried about him plenty in the first few days, but Spamton's cheerfulness was contagious.
Spamton returned to doing some light behind-the-scenes work only a few days after his injury. After a few weeks, they had started to make plans for his redebut onstage. Tabloids had already started making up crazy rumors about Spamton's sudden disappearance from the public eye, with some claiming they saw him and Tenna on a date in Cyber City, but Spamton brushed off these rumors much quicker than Tenna had. "They don't know what they're talkin' about. Don't worry about 'em."
Apart from the rumors, things had been going great. Spamton had started reintegrating into TV World and was spending less and less time in his dressing room. The plans for his redebut was going fantastic. It seemed like the worst of it was over, and now things were really looking up!
…Until Spamton decided to lock himself in his dressing room again. Tenna decided to leave him alone for a bit. He could have just been feeling a little down that day, after all! But after a full day, Tenna couldn't take it anymore and unlocked Spamton's dressing room with his master key.
"Spam?"
Spamton was nowhere to be seen, but a lump of blankets sat on the couch, and a miserable voice came from it. "Go away…"
"Are you okay?"
"I don't. Want you. To see me. Like this." He spoke methodically, as if he was struggling to get the words out.
"Did something happen?"
Spamton refused to answer. He didn't move or give any indication that he wanted to continue this conversation. Tenna understood that Spamton needed some alone time, so he left without another word.
Tenna worked late that night in his dressing room. He knew he should have gone home earlier, but something in his gut told him that he couldn't leave the studio when Spamton was suffering just next door. If something happened to Spamton and he wasn't around to help, he wouldn't be able to forgive himself!
Hours passed. Tenna had read and reread his script a million times. Kris and Asriel had been put to bed long ago. Surely nothing was going to happen, so Tenna should really just go home. He stood up and put his script away, adjusting his suit and getting ready to leave.
A blood-curdling scream rang through the hall. Tenna whipped around and sprinted to Spamton's dressing room, his body moving before his mind even registered the sound. He threw open the door and ran up to the couch.
"No, NO! Don't touch me! Don't look at me! GO AWAY!" Spamton screamed at the top of his lungs. He glitched in and out, thrashing and shoving and wailing, preventing Tenna from getting a good look at him. Tenna grabbed his wrists and gasped when he felt cold hardness where warm feathers should be.
Spamton's hands and arms were no longer feathery. Plastic laid where flesh should have been, joints segmented and attached together with strings. "What… What's happening to you?" Tenna let go of his wrists, and Spamton rushed to cover his mouth. His chin was soaked in blood. "Is your mouth okay?! Did something happen?!"
Spamton kept screaming at the top of his lungs, until it suddenly stopped short. He froze before grabbing at his throat. His mouth was open as if he was trying to scream, but nothing came out.
"Hey, hey, what happened?! You can't talk? Okay, you're okay, I'll go find a healing item and you'll be-"
Spamton scratched at his plastic neck, gasping through silent sobs. Tenna hated the idea of leaving him for even a second in this state. He took a deep breath and ran as fast as he could through the studio to return with a Deluxe Dinner. By the time he came back, Spamton was no longer actively bleeding, curled up on his side and crying miserably.
Tenna finally got a proper look at his face. His jaw was broken, hanging from its socket. "Oh, oh dear! C'mon, just eat a little, you'll feel better-"
Spamton held out a hand to stop him. He coughed up a tiny bit of blood before opening his bleary eyes.
"T<T[TV]… NNA [$&!#?]!!!" He coughed again. "STOP IT StOP IT STOP IT STOPIT!!!!!"
A jolt of horror ran through Tenna's body at the fact that Spamton didn't sound like himself at all, he didn't even have his accent anymore. Tenna sat next to him and helped him sit up, holding his face and inspecting him.
"What happened to your voice? What… what's going on, Spam? You're really scaring me…"
"It HURTS! IT HURTS!! YOUR [Fifty Percent Off QC's Coupon!] WON''T DO [$!X$]!!!" He held his throat and wheezed, but he leaned into Tenna's touch.
"Okay, okay, we should start by calming down. You're okay, I'm here, we're still together! It's like you said! As long as we're together, right? Right?"
Spamton dragged his nails down his face. Artificial hiccups and sobs sounded like they came out of a speaker as his entire body glitched. Tenna hugged him to his chest, stroking his hair, trying to ignore his own tears.
"[$!$!]… T-TEN—" He heaved "ThE [[Silly Strings]] HURT!!!!!"
"I know it hurts. But we'll be okay! You… you said yourself, you've been through hell, and you still made it here! We just have to stick together…" Tenna felt himself shrink. He tried to ignore the feeling of cold plastic against him and focus on petting Spamton's hair. "…You feel cold. Let's go home, okay? It's more comfy there."
Spamton felt exhausted. His entire body ached from the glitches and the feeling of his skin being replaced by plastic, and he was so Goddamn tired from all the screaming and fighting. Going home and curling up together in a nice warm bed sounded amazing. He nodded silently, not daring to test his voice again. Tenna wrapped him in the blanket he had and lifted him into his arms.
Spamton's weight in his arms felt comforting. Even in their current nightmare, even in the state they were in, Spamton still lied in his arms. Spamton still trusted him.
When they got to Tenna's house, the two worked together to make a little blanket nest on his bed and curled into each other's arms. Spamton was still shivering, but he was no longer trying to fight or run away.
Tenna thought about what was happening to Spamton. The wings and tail Tenna liked so much were gone, his charming accent disappeared with his old voice, his handsome smile would be no more considering his broken jaw, and when the plastic spread to his face his wrinkles would be gone, too. All the little physical traits about him that Spamton hated but Tenna loved would be gone.
And yet, now, holding Spamton in his arms… Tenna didn't feel so upset about it. Spamton was the same man he fell in love with years ago. No matter what he looked like, he would be the same man underneath. And what really mattered was that he was still alive. They were together. Spamton wouldn't leave. As long as they stuck together, everything would be okay.
Everything would be okay.