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It started, as things pertaining to Spoke often do, with Spoke snooping around where he doesn’t belong. Except, he gets to choose where he does and doesn’t belong now, and seeing as he’s the leader of Null, he lets himself into Jamato’s office.
Immediately, he starts rummaging through Jamato’s stuff, finds a whole lot of paperwork regarding expenses he skimmed through, plans for an expansion he’s going to have to cancel, and even spots a few books Jamato had seemed to have been reading in hys free time.
Below all of that, however, Spoke found a cover he actually recognised. A lime green journal, to be more specific, with floral embellishments in the shape of ferns.
One Jamato had owned since the start of the server. One it had never let Spoke even peek at.
Spoke gave a quick glance around the office and through the window, spotting the place where said voidbug was being held for the time being, until he could figure out a room that wouldn’t be easy to escape from without being a literal prison cell. He had standards, unlike Jamato hymself.
Figuring no one was around to see him, he giddily flipped through a random page to start reading, only to find two flowers pressed into the pages with dates attached. He frowned, noting they were from around two years ago. He flipped through the next page to find the same thing.
He huffed, flipping to the last used page and paused at the date. This was a few days before Jamato left. Hy never added anything more. Spoke went to the first page instead and found the only bit of writing there.
A title that simply read, ‘Flower Album’. In the corner there was smudged ink that Spoke could barely make out the words of. I miss you. The smudges were tear stains.
Spoke found himself collapsing onto the office chair, starting to get an inkling as to what this journal actually was.
Much more carefully, Spoke began flipping through the pages. His breath caught at the first flower. He remembered it. The adjacent date only confirmed it. It was the day he joined Unstable. He’d given Jamato a Lily of the Valley. He’d said it reminded him of Jamato, though the exact wording nor reasoning he couldn’t recall.
The more he flipped through the pages, the more he found his face warming. Jamato had kept every flower of his hy’d been given. He shot up suddenly, flipping through the pages for an orange tulip he recalled Squiddo having handed to Jamato as a gift upon hearing hy likes flowers sometimes during the end of spring, flipping through those months, only to find no sight of it, not the adjacent date it would have.
That had the growing blush on his face flare, freezing his cheeks over and having him press a hand into the fabric of his hoodie, warmth flaring in his chest with a blooming affection he’d long thought wilted.
His breath hitches as he realised Jamato had made a journal of flowers he’d given to it, and him alone.
He flipped to the last page one more, the same date two years ago, then back to the first tracing over the tear stained ink like it held an answer for a question he hadn’t known he’d been asking. His heart clenched.
He found himself scrambling to put it back where he’d found it, shutting all the drawers and instead staring at his hands like they held the rest of the answers. Distantly he was aware he was still blushing, the cold under his skin causing it to prickle with numbness. He couldn’t even find it in him to feel bothered.
Jamato still cared. Even now. Hy still kept the journal. Still kept Spoke’s gifts.
Spoke still had lot of work to do, a prison to dismantle, a prisoner to figure out the placement of, a best friend whose location needs to be pinned down. However… he opened his inventory, recalling a flower field at the edge of the farlands.
Maybe he could take a detour…
————
Jamato had never been so unnerved in all its time on this server. Not quite afraid, nor horrified, nothing quite that intense. Just plain put-off.
Being Spoke’s prisoner, hy had been expecting- …well. Hy wasn't sure what hy’d been expecting. Whatever it was, hy was expecting it to hurt. To be some awful, stress inducing endeavour, if not something at least on par with Solitude, as hy had done.
Instead, it was given a simple guest room near Spoke's current residence, with the only change being that the door was replaced with an iron one. Interestingly enough, it was even allowed visitors, though with _ _X_ _ guarding the door not many of its previous so called ‘loyal’ soldiers bothered to check up on it.
Hy laid back down on the plush mattress, only to pause. Right. That was something else Spoke had done for hym. Granted hym actual furniture, shockingly given hym most of hys journals and writing supplies back, even had gone so far as to toss in the instruments for hys more frivolous hobbies.
All in all, it felt less like it was being treated as a prisoner and more like it was being forced into an early retirement. Still, it figured it really shouldn’t be complaining, it was living better than basically every other prisoner that had been in these halls, hell, it got fed steak instead of rotten flesh.
Hy just didn't understand. Why go through all the effort of treating hym so well? Why not just kill hym outright? Was it to prove a point? To prove to him Spoke wouldn’t reach hys level of cruelty? A bit of a moot point, considering hy saw Spoke toss Mapicc into the void like trash. If that's how Spoke treated all his best friends, Jamato really wasn't sure how well that boded for hym in the here and now.
…was it something else? The shred of humanity Jamato had been looking for? The one thing that gave Jamato a reason to keep going despite the dire situation at hand? It didn’t let itself dwell on those thoughts, knowing it would just lead to further heartache.
The worst part about all of this, however, wasn't the encasement itself, nor the fact the commander it'd trusted most was now ensuring its continued imprisonment. No, nothing compared to the feeling of its own shame.
How had things fallen apart so spectacularly? How had hy failed so spectacularly that the commander thought Spoke a better leader? It was- it was humiliating. It made hym want to curl into a ball and hide under the covers, screw hys pride.
It refused to fall that far. Absolutely refused to let its once right hand man see it so fully beaten. It would hold on to at least that much.
Jamato could only assume the time when Spoke arrived for what hy figured was a daily check in. Then again, Spoke was a pretty awful clock, seeing as he never had a scheduled routine.
It sat crouched at its bed, a book in hand and a sketchbook on its lap when Spoke walked in, and for a second the scene felt too domestic to be a hostage situation, up until Spoke was saddling up to Jamato’s side with too dull eyes and messy, frizzled hair and suddenly he was the Spoke Jamato hardly remembered once more.
“Watcha reading?” Spoke asked, voice holding the barely there crackle of static that constituted for a purr.
The bug tensed hands twitching to shut the book before refraining. There wasn’t a point. “Plant encyclopedia,” hy muttered, voice muted.
“How many of those do you have?” Spoke giggled, slightly incredulous, and Jamato found hymself flushing in embarrasment.
“I- I like to cross reference,” it muttered, curling up tighter on the mattress, which unfortunately for it, just gave Spoke a chance to clamber onto the makeshift bed as well and stretch out.
“You know what they call that? Nerd behaviour; you're such a fucking nerd, bro,” hys void Spoke said with that same affectionate tone he would use all that time ago that would have Jamato’s chest squeeze with love.
Now it squeezed with an aching longing it refused to acknowledge.
“Don't talk to me about nerding out when both of us can still remember your sewing phase Spork-” they both froze, the nickname slipping past before hy could realise hy'd said it. It was too late to take it back now anyway. Hy wouldn't acknowledge this either.
“I went to, uh. I went out for- a little… while.” Spoke changed the subject. Jamato tried not to frown.
Why tell it this? Did Spoke just want to rub it in its face that he had freedom and it didn't? He hadn’t bothered doing so before, probably not feeling a need to when he already very pointedly held the key to its room. Or cell. Whatever this constituted as.
Hy didn't respond, and hys spring Spoke took that as confirmation to continue. “I ended up, uhm, well I figured you'd like some company that isn't…” Spoke trailed off. Company that wasn’t him? Jamato wasn’t too sure. Hy didn’t like the thought of anyone else seeing hym like this just as much as hy didn't Spoke, but at least with Spoke, they'd already seen each other at their worst. Humiliation is a lot easier to bear when hy's seen Spoke cry and bleed. At least hy wasn’t suffering the same fate.
Its trail of thought was cut off when Spoke jerked an arm towards his inventory, looking through it and finally grabbing onto a… a pot? He sprang up and placed it on Jamato’s desk, then planted a freshly uprooted, roots intact, Lily of the Valley into the pot, before turning to Jamato loking inordinately pleased with himself.
Jamato blinked, staring at the flower for a moment. Oh. That’s what Spoke meant by company.
“Figured I'd spruce this place up a little, make it more homey,” Spoke exclaimed, voice gratingly bright for Jamato’s current mood.
“Why?”
Spoke’s head tilted in question. “Do you not like it?” He sounded oddly anxious.
“Why bring me gifts at all? Why give me all of this- I mean, after what I did to you, why aren’t you doing worse to me?” Jamato asked.
It was Spoke’s turn to frown, static flaring rapidly before being silenced just as quickly when Jamato didn’t manage to stifle a flinch.
“Alright, alright. I'll leave.” Spoke huffed, completely ignoring the questions Jamato posed and stomping out, leaving hym alone with hys thoughts. And the plant.
It forced itself up and towards the lily, taking in its petals. It wondered if Spoke knew how toxic a Lily of the Valley was. How easily Jamato could make it a poison. How easily it could kill Spoke with the gift Spoke had handed.
Hy had the supplies to. Hy swallowed, hands shaking, as hy took a closer look at the lily. For a thing so poisonous it's almost ironic how it's linked to innocence and purity. Insidious thing it was.
It grabbed its gloves from under its bed, things Spoke had so graciously offered it, and began harvesting the flowers on the plant, leaving only the buds not yet in bloom.
Hy could crush them. Form a fine paste. It wouldn't take much to have Spoke inhale them, though hy knew Spoke would survive, if only because he had access to totems. Still, even if pity revenge, it remained so tempting. Hy wanted to see Spoke bleed. To see Spoke sick and hurt and crying and-
And the thought still made its stomach churn. Still made it sick to its stomach and now it was left with a bunch of toxic flowers that were going to dry up eventually.
Hy did have something hy could do with them. Something so humiliated it was mortifying just thinking about it. Something so soft it made hym want to curl up to protect that little vulnerability.
It glanced towards the iron door, noting the back of its ex-right hand man’s head, seeming turned away from it for the most part. It sighed.
Hy really was going to do this, huh? How far hy had fallen. To want Spoke back so badly.
It took out the notebook it had kept hidden under the bed along with the rest of its supplies and started on the process of drying the lilies. It took some time, but once they were safely neutralised and pressed in, it paused, realising it didn't know the date.
Biting hys lip, hy moved to the commander, instead. “What’s the date?” Hy asked.
The null member didn't even pretend to acknowledge it. Like every other time it had stricken conversations. It felt too awkward to ask again.
It figured it would ask Spoke when he returned tomorrow and get the date that way.
————
Spoke was in a wonderful mood. His stupid idea had worked, if the evidence was to be believed. What evidence, he hears the imaginary voice in his head ask? Why, he couldn’t be happier to explain.
In words that come out crackling static, he begins. “Okay, okay, so!” He cuts himself off with a giggle. “I gave Jamato the plant, and the next day a bunch of the flower heads were chopped off and- and! Hy even asked for the date!” He squealed, then realised he sounded more than a little insane. He cleared his throat and continued to his nonexistent audience.
“Today, I'm gonna have Jamato go on a walk or something, but no, wait, I can’t seem weak around Underscores he'll start helping Jamato again. Okay, uhm… how about I try to relocate it as like a ‘punishment’ for a little while. Up the threats and all.” Honestly, it really wasn't that hard to find an excuse to pin some form of punishment on Jamato, seeing as it had given him a plethora of reasons that barely scratched the surface.
He began pacing. “The reason isn't gonna be an issue. Punishment is punishment and none of the Null care for fairness. It's what I'm gonna do. It’s like… it's gonna have to be something that sounds bad, but isn't actually. Okay. What do I know about JamatoP…”
It took a couple of rounds of pacing before he figured it out. It was a dare that happened a while back, Spoke had gotten annoyed for some reason or another about the state of Jamato’s room at the time, what with it being what was essentially a sensory deprivation chamber, no light, no sound, hell, he doesn't recall it being any particular temperature either.
Jamato had scoffed at him at the time and it had led to a bet on how long the bug could last in an actual sensory deprivation chamber.
One Spoke lost by a longshot because not only did Jamato find the place relaxing enough to fall asleep in, hy ended up liking it so much hy set one up in hys own basement to self regulate in.
Yeah, that would work out.
Plan decided, he left to go… build a sensory deprivation tank. Now how was it that Jamato managed to use water in the nether? He’d just ask the commander.
It took about a day or so to set up, seeing as it only really needed water and a quiet dark place, which the no-longer-destroyed basement was perfect for.
All that was left was to get Jamato inside.
“JamatoP!!!!!!” Spoke came in with an over the top squee. He stifled a giggle over the way said bug sighed.
“Full legal name, huh?” Came its predictable reply.
Spoke did giggle. “Nope! Lemme fix that, Jamato Pecan Pie!”
He resolutely ignored Jamato’s muttered, “there's no pie.”
“I've been thinking, and you know what?” He began, knowing his commander was likely listening.
“I really despise how you treated the prisoners here.” He didn’t bother hiding the glee he felt at seeing Jamato tense. “So, I think I’ve figured out a nice way to make you… ah… marinate on your decisions.”
“…ruminate.” Jamato muttered.
Spoke blinked. “Huh?”
“It’s ruminate. Not marinate.” Hy clarified.
Spoke waved hym off to hide his fluster, “potato, tomato, just come with me,” he snapped.
Far too hesitantly, Jamato stood, following after Spoke silently. Deciding Jamato was going too slow, Spoke grabbed its wrist and tugged it along. The walk wasn’t long but he could tell Jamato only got more and more nervous the lower they went, until they landed in the obsidian box Spoke had made. It looked… really ugly, now that he was looking back on it. Well, whatever.
“Alright, this will be your new home for the next hour or so! Nice and quiet to think your actions through.” He announced, smiling his dazzling grin he reserved specifically for when he was trying to imitate a sleazy salesman.
He opened the metal door. He could tell Jamato seemed taken aback.
“That’s- that’s a sensory deprivation chamber?” Jamato sounded so hilariously confused.
“Yup yup! Alright, get in bro, i’ll be back in an hour or something. Wait, actually so I don’t forget,” he turned to the Null guard who’d escorted them, “let hym out in an hour, yeah? Alright, that’s all.”
He pushed it inside, trying not to giggle at the way it fell face first into the lukewarm water and sputtered, annoyed at him. It was no longer scared, however, so he counted that a win. It did acquiesce and resume a proper position, not that there was much space there anyway to not do so. He shut the door and locked it, handing the null guard the key.
Then he practically giddily skipped back to Jamato’s room, more than delighted to look around. He started with the desk, hoping to find the book in the same place as before. About ten minutes of rummaging later he concluded it was not, in fact, in the desk drawer. Nor in any other drawer. It was one damn room, where the hell could Jamato have hidden a medium sized green book?
He's sure he'd given it to hym so it not being in hys hold was out of the question. He might end up needing to turn this whole room inside out. He really, really hoped it didn't come to that. Jamato was a neat freak. It'd know if its room was played with.
He started with checking the obvious parts, the cupboards, the closet, being as careful as possible to not displace anything in the process. When he found nothing, he started looking under the furniture, wondering if Jamato had perhaps knocked it over.
There, under the bed, he found it neatly placed, along with the rest of hys flower pressing supplies and a few other notebooks. Ignoring everything else, he honed in on the flower book and snatched it eagerly, settling on the plush mattress with a soft umph. He flipped to the newest page, and there, freshly inked, was the date two days ago and a new lily placed. His heart skipped a beat.
Jamato still pressed it into the pages. Jamato still cared. His breath hitched suddenly and he found himself with more energy than he knew what to do with. He sprung up, cheeks a bright purple, and left the room, the book still on the bed, to focus on the rounds around Purgatory. It was almost ready for demolition, most of the players already having been sent back to spawn or executed for their crimes. Although a lot of people didn't deserve a place like Purgatory, Spoke couldn’t allow those that did the opportunity to leave.
Before he knew two hours had passed, and, figuring that was likely more than enough time for Jamato to have been let out and settled into its room, he moved back to the wing he’d quarantined Jamato in, all too happy to greet his… prisoner.
However, the moment he had Jamato in view, he saw its posture and knew instantly that bug was pissed. Oh dear.
Had it been placed in the sensory chamber too long? Did it no longer like it? He hurried over, a sickening concern building up in his chest that he very deliberately kept away from his face.
Quickly opening the iron door, dismissing the null guard and stepping in, he tried to open his mouth only to be shoved back into the now locked door with an enraged Jamato, a familiar lime green notebook in hand.
“Y-you were looking through my stuff!” Jamato accused, voice high. It took Spoke a moment to realise it was not only rage that coloured Jamato’s cheeks bright. It was embarrassment as well.
Spoke looked away, realising in his own excitement he forgot to put the book back under the bed. “Uh- not all of it…” he mumbled. “Just this notebook, promise.”
Jamato scoffed, “oh, shove off, Spoke. That's the reason you put me in the chamber anyway, isn't it? Having me locked up isn't enough humiliation for you, you just have to take it a step further. It's never enough for you is it.” Hy snapped.
It was Spoke’s turn to huff. “Should you really be talking when you made this stupid hellhole just ‘cause you wanted to see me beaten down? You don't get the fucking moral highground here, Jamato.”
“You- you just-!” It shoved Spoke hard enough to get his back to impact with the wall a little painfully, causing him to wince, before throwing its hands up and curling onto the mattress, a sneer on its expression. “Whatever. At least I know why you gave me my stuff back to begin with.”
Spoke frowned, biting his lip. It wasn’t supposed to go like this. “No, no, Jamato that's not-” he clicked his tongue. “I swear I really did just look through that one, not anything else, I was just-”
“How do you even know what's inside to look through just this one, at least if you're going to spend your life lying try to get good at it.” Jamato spat.
He held back a groan. “Jamato… that's not… fine. Fine, I really did only look through this one ‘cause I found it while looking through your office paperwork. I thought it was a diary and I was- I was angry, dude, you tormented me for months, I wanted to at least know what you were thinking during it. I found this instead and- and I-”
“Spoke, I think you've done enough, just-”
“No, no. Jamato, listen- actually why am I even pleading? It’s not like you can force me out,” he shut his mouth at the glare Jamato sent him and hurried along, “I- I wanted proof you still cared. For me. Like- like at all. And I found this book instead… I mean. I just. Do you still even- of course you don’t, it was stupid.” He admitted, talking himself out of his own thought process.
Jamato just stared at him. “Did you find what you were looking for?”
Spoke closed his eyes, turning away from Jamato’s gaze. “I don’t know. I- it was nice… that you thought of me, so much. I… I wanted to know if you still loved me.” He admitted, voice quiet.
“It’s really never enough for you, huh?” Jamato sighed, getting up from off the makeshift bed.
“You really do break everything you touch.” Jamato said, even as hy took Spoke's hand in hys.
“Are you saying I broke you too?” Spoke asked weakly, staring at their interlocked fingers.
“I must have been the first you broke, if despite everything you've done, I still love you this much.” It paired those words with a hand to Spoke’s cheek, cradling his face with far too much gentleness than he deserved. He'd missed being held like he was precious.
He let his eyes shut close. If this was a trick, then he’d cherish the moment before the inevitable betrayal. Slowly, he leaned close to Jamato, tentatively wrapping his arms around the voidbug and relaxing when he felt the hug be reciprocated.
A hand began caring through his hair before Jamato pulled away slightly, just to stare at his pure white eyes.
Spoke stared back, something in his chest expanding and threatening to consume him whole, an emotion he'd long recognised as adoration. He’d missed his world so, so much.
He closed that distance between them, feeling Jamato’s lips on his at long last.
When they pulled apart moments later, Spoke kept their hands interlocked. “I love you too. Still.” He mumbled.
Jamato smiled, soft and sad. “I know. I'm… I was planning on giving you that book, once it was filled. As a gift. I guess… if you still…”
Oddly enough, hearing that small tidbit of information was the thing that had Spoke want to cry the most since becoming the leader of null. He blinked back tears, nodding to the open ended sentence. “I'll get you more flowers. We'll be travelling to spawn together soon, too.”
“Okay.” Jamato said, pecking Spoke’s lips again and surprising him. He blinked rapidly, before returning the favour and kissing Jamato’s cheek.
“I… I should finish up. Purgatory, I mean. Once Spawn is taken care of, maybe… we can…we can go…” he trailed off, knowing it was a ridiculous suggestion. They would never be able to escape their sins.
Still, Jamato indulged him. “Y-yeah, okay. I know a few places you'd have loved to visit.”
“Okay. Okay. You can’t leave until then. Literally.” Spoke replied, assuring himself more than Jamato.
Jamato just huffed. “I figured.”
Somehow, Spoke felt like he’d doomed them all over again. All he could do was hold Jamato’s hands tighter before letting go, leaving and keeping the room unlocked as he left. Jamato wouldn’t escape purgatory, and just for a moment, he hoped Jamato would choose to willingly stay, too.