Chapter Text
Spamton stretches out in his dressing room, his hands above his head as he sighs softly, letting the tension leave his body after the day of work in the studio. He rolls his neck and begins to gather his things. Just a briefcase full of makeup and his other clothes, but tonight, he's too tired to change here, so he decides to wear the TV Time suit home; he can wash it there anyways. Spamton walks out to the exit door, and makes his way to his car, starting it up, and beginning the long drive home back to cyber city.
Tenna puts the keys in his ignition, and presses on the gas, pulling out surprisingly quickly, as he's regularly a very safe driver. However, today, he has a certain friend to catch up with. He watches Spamton's taillights pull out of the lot, before following behind him. He drums his clawed fingers on the steering wheel, feeling a pang of guilt. This is a bit strange, isn't it? Most bosses wouldn't follow their workers home, especially not after the past two days. However, Tenna argues to himself, he's watching out for Spamton's safety.
Tenna knows that brainwashing can certainly get messy, and it can be easy to make someone forget simple things like where their house is, or how to drive on a highway. So, he tries to ignore the gnawing in his stomach as he follows the smaller darkner home.
By the time that Spamton reaches his apartment, he's worn out and annoyed. There was some asshole tailgating him the whole time, and he felt like he was being followed. He walks up to the door, and groans as he sees a garbage bag left by his next-door neighbor, Nubert. It was his turn to throw out the trash, as they both rotated on a schedule, but Nubert would always leave it right outside the complex door, and blame it on Spamton if it didn't get thrown out. Dammit. The last thing he wanted right now was to deal with garbage. He was hardly even tall enough to reach the dumpster without standing on his tiptoes...
Tenna pulls up alongside the apartment a few minutes later, quickly turning off his lights and engine, and looking out the window. He watches Spamton struggle to lift up the garbage bag, and a small, fond smile grows on his lips, before he snaps himself out of it. Okay, Spamton is home and safe now. It's DEFINITLEY time to leave. But, he can't seem to find the courage to turn on the car just yet. He's throwing out the garbage, is it really that bad to make sure he gets INSIDE safe? No, of course, not... so he sits there for a while, watching the clock in his car. Five minutes. Ten minutes. Fifteen minutes.
By the time eighteen minutes have passed, Tenna opens the car door, and begins to walk towards the apartment complex. Spamton still hasn't returned... Tenna makes his way towards the back dumpsters, and he nearly passes out. Spamton is cornered against the wall, weakly trying to push away a poppup, as it repeatedly whacks him with its long arms, demanding that he acknowledge it's ads. Before he can think, Tenna grows even larger, his screen going a little bit darker.
"EXCUSE ME." His voice comes out staticky and glitched, his hands in tight fists at his sides. The poppup looks over, at the massive, looming figure at the end of the alley. Spamton whips his head over, his eyes going wide. "Tens!? What the [[WOMEN WANT TO FUCK NEAR YOU!!]] are you doing [HERE]?!" He cries, but Tenna is already closing the distance towards the poppup. Even though the poppup is about ten feet tall, Tenna still towers over the darkner, head twitching just a little, his antennae rigid and spiked. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Tenna demands, his hand slamming into the wall next to them, looming over the poppup.
The smaller darkner glitches awkwardly, beginning to back up. "LEEVINGG...." It tries, slowly trying to creep by Tenna. "GOOD." Tenna spits, watching Spamton's harasser turn away. As soon as it turns the corner, Tenna shrinks down, and instinctively lifts Spamton into his hands, like an injured kitten, his antennae drooping as he takes in Spamton's scratched form, the beginning of bruises already forming on his soft skin. "Oh, oh Spammy..." He says softly, pulling the smaller darkner against his chest, cradling him softly.
Spamton's face flushes red, and he just sits in stunned silence for a moment as Tenna holds him, before he feels hot tears welling in his eyes. What the hell? Why is he crying? He doesn't cry, businessmen don't show emotion. MEN don't show emotion. But as Tenna holds him close, and rubs soothing circles on his back, cooing soothing words, everything - even the confusion on why Tenna is here, and how he knows where he lives - melts away, into raw, weak little sobs.
Spamton doesn't process Tenna reaching into his pocket and pulling out his house key, and finding the apartment off of the number, until he suddenly realizes Tenna is laying him down on his bed, stroking his hair. The older darkner is shrunken down to fit into his apartment, and looking at him with worried eyes. "Are you okay, Spammy?" Tenna asks softly, his heart aching for the smaller darkner. Through teary eyes, and sobs that slowly recede, Spamton nods, his lip quivering. He wipes his nose, and slowly sits up, curling up a little. "S-sorry you had to [sea] that, Tens..." He murmurs, looking away in shame.
Tenna's eyes widen, and he shakes his head, reaching out to cradle Spamton's face in his hands. "What are you talking about, big shot? You don't need to be sorry! It's that damn poppup that should be..." Tenna growls, glaring out the window at the nonexistent enemy. Spamton smiles weakly, looking up at the CRT. "Thanks..." He sighs, and looks down at his outfit. He REALLY needs to change. He runs a hand through his hair, and sighs, beginning to stand up. But Tenna quickly protests, putting a gentle hand in front of Spamton. "W-wait! You shouldn't get up, you could be hurt... I'll do it..." Tenna whispers, his hands drifting towards the buttons of Spamton's shirt.
But as he begins, Spamton's breathing picks up rapidly, memories of past lovers and friends screaming and abusing him once they saw his binder or found out he was trans, and he feels a panic attack beginning to take course as memories of that night come rushing back. Hands on his shirt, pulling it over his head, and then hateful screams in his ear as he was held down on the bed, someone he was supposed to be able to trust trying to prove he was female through the most hateful actions.
He suddenly smacks Tenna's hand away, his eyes wide and brimming with tears again. "NO! Get away from me!" He yells, backing up against the headboard of his bed, his stomach twisting, chills running through his body. His breathing comes in and out faster than he can process it, as he's forced to watch from the outside as his trauma takes control, his feet kicking at an invisible danger.
Tenna holds his hands up, eyebrows shooting up, before he quickly backs away, shaking his head. "I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean- I- What can I do, I'm sorry!" He fumbles, watching with a scared expression. He's never seen anything like this before, and he has no idea what he's supposed to do. He backs away, wanting nothing more than to take the smaller man into his arms and cradle him until everything is okay, but he can tell that would NOT help right now.
"D-Don't touch me! GET OUT!" Spamton screams, his hands coming to cover the top of his head, as if trying to protect himself from the falling debris of his trauma. Tenna really begins to panic, looking around in terror. What is he supposed to do? What CAN he do? He shakes his head, trying to keep his voice as soft as possible, kneeling down in front of the bed, while keeping his distance. "S-Spammy, I'm not going to leave you alone like this, you-"
Tenna lets out a groan of pain as a phone receiver collides with his face, groaning and holding the plastic of his screen in pain. "DON'T CALL ME THAT!" Spamton yells, his eyes wide and panicked, like the shadows are all ready to attack him. Rubbing his screen, Tenna looks over to Spamton, feeling his heart ache. He doesn't want to make the younger darkner feel worse, but he can't bear the idea of leaving the poor thing alone now. He steps closer, slowly, holding his hands up like he's approaching a frightened animal. "Spamton? Spamton, it's me, Tenna..." He says quietly, his hand slowly reaching out, watching the crying darkner wince.
"Hey, hey, it's okay..." He says quietly, extending his palm. "I'm not going to hurt you, okay? Maybe other people have said that, and maybe they were lying, but I'm not... Pinky promise." He holds out his pinky finger, his face soft and concerned. Spamton slowly uncovers his face, looking up at the taller darkner. Tenna sits there, his hand extended, for what feels like years. He waits patiently, ready whenever Spamton is. Slowly, the smaller darkner reaches out, interlocking pinkies with the CRT.
Tenna smiles, and nods encouragingly, smiling down at Spamton. "Thats right... I'm still here... okay? I'm not leaving..." He murmurs, and softly holds Spamton's hand, getting a little bit closer. "Do you want to talk about it...?"