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It was a day like any other in Castle Town, which is to say, complete and utter nonsense. Swatchlings and Zappers squabbled about like they always did, Clover had dropped a barrel of sportsballs on Top Chef semi-accidentally, and Lancer was up to his schemes and stunts, which were usually endearing until today.
“I—I’m so sorry Mr. Spamton!” The rotund boy cried out, after an ill-advised bike stunt crashed into the dumbfounded dummy.
“H3HAH4>h3 IT’S [Fined] KIDDO, [Nothing and Nobody] CAN [down] A BIG SHOT [liked] M3—” he exclaimed before his face broke out into a series of glitches surrounding one of his eyes.
Tenna, who had sat in Castle Town long enough to acclimate to both his fellow subjects and to his newly reunited partner, stared on with worry, raising a hand to his mouth in a faux-nailbiting gesture.
“Spamton, you’re clearly hurt! We need to get you some care, now.”
“IT’S [Okay to say] [Cathode], I [canned] JUST [Press F1 to Help].”
On cue, a miniature angelic Spamton appeared and healed his face.
“SEE? [Good] AS [New and impr—”
The glitches consumed him once again, scaring Tenna and Lancer into action.
“Uh, okay, he can’t heal himself, so…” Tenna pondered for a moment trying not to panic. “Ralsei should know what to do right? But, he’s currently out with the Lightners…”
Lancer looked down with consternation, before his face lit up.
“He’s one of those Cyber Darkners right? I remember Girl Dad saying she sometimes gets checked up good by those… what are they? Am-boo-lanses?”
Tenna clapped his hands in relief at the sound suggestion. “That’s right! The Ambyu-Lances! Thank you so much boy, I’ll take him right over.”
“I [Donnut] NEED AN [Emergency Services]. I’M [The customer’s always right!]”
Tenna grit his teeth, unfortunately all too aware of how healthcare-averse his partner is.
“Yes! Yes you do and that’s final!”
Spamton stood the best he could in his condition, falsely declaring “YOU [garbage can’t] M—” before Tenna scooped him up in one fell swoop. Spamton hated this, but he knew there wasn’t much to stop Tenna when he’s on a mission. And after losing Spamton once, the TV was hellbent on making sure nothing was out to get him ever again. Tenna won this exchange, and the email knew he couldn’t fight him on it.
A quick walk around Castle Town with a postman in tow later, and the Ambyu-Lances were located. A simple diagnostic was ran to identify the problem.
“Mm… yeah, this is what I thought. Happens to self-taught healers.”
“WHAT DO [you’re mean]? I’M [Great Value!] AT [2.99 Bandages].”
The Ambyu-Lance looked puzzled, before Tenna stepped in to translate, well adjusted to his quirks.
“He means that he’s good at healing.”
“Ah… not denying that sir, but when Darkners who lack a greater understanding of their type of anatomy learn to heal, it often results in longterm minor damage accruing,” the needle-faced nurse explained. “The surface is healed and any major issues get resolved, but smaller basic issues go undetected with self-made remedies.”
The Ambyu-Lance pulled up a JPEG of the diagnostic on his body to show him and Tenna, who was anxiously pacing about the room.
“This bike crash caused you new damage, which you healed, but it also brought to the surface years of accrued damage that never healed properly.” The program gestured to small fractures shown all throughout the scan. “It’s like your whole body fractured. I don’t know what in the Light’s name you got up to in order to cause all this damage but there’s years worth of it, and none of it resolved. Now it’s all worsened enough that you can feel it.
“So,” the Ambyu-Lance continued, “in order to kickstart the proper healing process, I’m prescribing you pain medication and several days of bed rest. I hope your…” the Ambyu-Lance looked up at Tenna, who beamed showing off a new wedding ring “spouse can help you around the house.”
“THIS IS [Natural bull meat], BIG SHOTS DON’T [need a vacation?], I NEED TO [work that body!]—” The glitches overtook him once again, causing him to cry out in pain. Tenna rushed to give him a rub on the back but backed off, scared it would cause more pain, and his large hand awkwardly lingered for a tepid moment.
“… I’LL TAKE THE [pain remedies to try].”
Tenna carefully carried Spamton in his arms bridal style to their room in the castle (technically Tenna’s, but Spamton had made himself at home long ago), despite concerned or confused looks by the other Darkners he passed by. Spamton cringed in embarassment at the gesture despite how saccharine it was.
“I CAN [Walk the talk], YOU KNOW.”
“Yes, but I want to be sure my little parcel is safely delivered to bed. I don’t want you to glitch and trip and hurt yourself!”
Spamton sighed, knowing the damned boob tube was right. Yet another victory today, 0-2.
Tenna carefully opened the doors with his back pressing against it, and made a beeline to the bedroom, tenderly laying his mailman down on the bed and pulling the blankets over him.
“I’M [Not for ages 3 and younger], YOU KNOW.”
“No, but you’re precious cargo. I want to make sure you’re all nice and comfortable, okay?” Tenna brushed a stroke of hair out of Spamton’s face, so gentle it made Spamton want to weep.
The feeling was alien, foreign to him after years of loneliness, of isolation and pure want. Not only had he been an outsider from the start in his own Dark World, only further enhanced when his sales came crashing down and he dedicated his mission to becoming Neo (a now long abandoned dream), but he had been ripped away from his beloved in the worst way. He tried to come to terms with it. He reasoned Tenna must’ve never really loved him. Used him. Was glad he was gone. That he could be bigger, better, have a stronger comeback and be everything Tenna wished he could be.
Now that fate had taken an odd turn for the both of them though, he wanted nothing more in this life than this moment, sighing gently when Tenna took off his glasses to lay them on the nightstand, and stifling a whine when he walked away from the bed, and out of the bedroom.
“WHERE ARE YOU [Going out of business]?”
“Oh, now you want my care the second you aren’t getting it. And you call me clingy!” Tenna called out from the main room. “It’s okay Spammy, I’m just going to cook us dinner. Hang tight for me dear.”
Tenna proudly donned his apron, preoccupied with cooking. It something he practiced to take up the time in TV World during his loneliest years and developed an earnest passion. He mentally perused the many recipes stored in his mind, memories of old cooking shows once tailored for a certain boss monster mother, now given new purpose for the people he loves. He settles on a chicken noodle soup recipe. Sure, Spamton wasn’t sick with the cold, but a warm bowl of soup was always relaxing for him at least.
He went to work, fastidious in the prep, grabbing each necessary ingredient, before carefully but quickly dicing the mirepoix and tossing it in the pot. He softened the vegetables before throwing in the stock, adding random spices he deemed the most comforting before adding leftover cooked chicken and the noodles. In no time at all, the meal was ready, and he prepared it on a tray with a glass of water and the prescribed pain meds which he was to take as needed every 6 hours.
“Oh Spammy~ I have dinner ready~” He chimed in a singsong voice as he emerged through the bedroom doors to a drowsy courier. He was clearly stewing about something, an expression of scorn on his face.
“I’M NOT [hunger for more].”
“Yes, you are. You at least have to try eating. You haven’t all day! And you need to take food with your meds—” Tenna turned around and took a deep breath. Less overbearing, less controlling. They’ve talked about this. Give him the agency. Guide, don’t decide.
“I worked hard on this soup. Can you at least try it and tell me if it’s good?”
Spamton’s expression immediately softened. There’s the ticket.
After taking a few bites, his appetite properly set in and he was devouring the soup, so much so Tenna told him to slow down so he didn’t burn himself. It was scary seeing Spamton like this—not because of his appearance, which Tenna had long since gotten adjusted to—but rather, how desperate he was, like the food might be ripped away, or that he may never get a chance to eat again. It made Tenna ache, wanting him to know that he’ll always be there, that this will last, that he will be damn sure of it. In time, Tenna thought. I need to give him time to get used to this, however long it takes!
Halfway through, Spamton paused, and knit his eyebrows like he had forgotten something. Once he recalled, he looked at Tenna with a confused expression.
“THE [soups up] IS GOOD, [buy the stay!].” The words fell from his mouth unnaturally, not used to being earnest to someone, even over small things like food.
“Oh, I’m so glad! I’m happy you love my cooking, I can never get over that, hehe!” Tenna glowed, not with the power of a sun, but the gentle light of a moon. Either way, to Spamton, it was his light.
He took his pill and the glass of water and, after making a face at the bitter taste on his tongue, gulped. As much as he hated to rely on it, the pills kept further glitches of pain at bay.
“[Welfare], TIME TO [Bedding].”
After the dishes had been done, leftovers put away, and nighttime routines assisted, the two laid in bed, not cuddling for tonight to give the email space, and yet he stirred. He was thirsty, and for the first time in forever, had a place to safely get water.
He pondered. Surely I’ll be fine to get just a glass of water, right? It can’t be that hard.
Without further consideration, he hopped off the bed with a slight thud. His knees buckled, but he didn’t think to stop. He didn’t want to stop.
He walked into the kitchen and pulled the stepladder up to the cabinets. Just a climb up and…
On the third step he wobbled in his daze and fell crashing down like debris, only to be caught by a familiar hand.
Ah, shit. Busted.
“What are you doing up! I told you I can take care of everything!” Tenna started berating, but as he noticed Spamton’s eyes filling up with static, he stopped and softened his expression before letting Spamton sit on the counter.
“I H4tE [this is it!]. I HATE [feeling worthless?] I’M SUPPOSED TO BE [BIG]. I’M [surplussed] TO BE [a self-made man!] I CAN’T EV3N GET A [dammed up] GLASS OF [wotter].”
Spamton looked up, a pained expression in his eyes.
“HOW AM I [supposit] TO [dark matter] TO YOU IF I CAN’T EVEN [help yourself!] MUCH LESS [work that body]?”
He wished he could cry. It was physically no longer possible. It still felt humiliating to fall apart in front of Tenna this way, who surely felt so disgusted.
Yet again, he was proven wrong when the CRT embraced him.
“Oh, Spammy… you were always important to me, work or no work, or whether you can help yourself. I don’t care about that! I care about you! You’re what I signed up for!” He backed away and carefully lifted up the mailman’s left hand, a wedding band gleaming. “In sickness and in health, I promised you.”
He nuzzled his face against the puppet’s. “Whether you like it or not, you’re never getting rid of me!”
Spamton sighed and leaned into the gesture, happier than ever.
It wasn’t the first time they’ve had this talk, or the second, or even the third. Yet somehow Tenna repeated himself with more fervor every single time. It wouldn’t be the last time he needed this reassurance, but every time, Tenna will be there. Every day he’ll wake up by his side, every meal they share he’ll be there to savor every last bite, every smile exchanged will reassure him this is real, this is lasting, this will be what keeps him going. Tenna had given up on the idea of being adopted by a Lightner after they reconnected, something Spamton felt he should regret, and yet Tenna beamed like a spotlight, focused on him in spite of every bump in the road, every flaw in his body, every fear the CRT felt to his core, like he was the most important thing in Tenna’s world. And for just a moment, he let himself feel it, rather than just pretend to feel important like he needed to.
He didn’t need to put up the mask anymore. Not with him. Not ever again. He’ll learn to take it off when he’s ready.
The entire time the postman was musing, Tenna had already gotten him the water, which he thanked the cathode for and downed unceremoniously.
“Let’s go back to bed, okay?”