Archive of Our Own

Tenna had always taken maintenance seriously, it was basically the mechanical version of self care.

He cleaned his screen the way someone else might wash their face before bed, smoothed a microfiber cloth over his casing the way others rubbed lotion into their hands, and coiled his tail neatly before sleeping, like braiding hair to prevent knots. He still stretched every morning with the quiet determination of someone who intended to outlive his warranty. Ankles, wrists, spine, antennae. He folded nearly in half without so much as a servo complaint, a little smug in the knowledge that he was still far more limber than most hardware his age.

Spamton, unfortunately, did not arrive in anything resembling that condition.

He looked like he was holding on out of spite alone, and he absolutely reeked of piss. Dirt had settled so deeply into his seams that washing him felt like excavating an artifact.

His joints made that little death rattle whenever he moved too fast, and the first time Spamton tried to make a joke about his modular puppet body, Tenna had simply said, "Hey, could you give me a hand with" and before he could finish, Spamton popped his entire hand off and tossed it at him like a fastball.

Tenna still caught it by pure instinct, fumbled, stared down at the thing in horrified confusion, and let out a squeak so high pitched it echoed.

Spamton cackled the whole way over as he reached up to reattach it. "YOU SAID you needed a [Helping Hand]!" he crowed, delighted with himself.

And it honestly was funny right up until Tenna got a good look at the wrist seam where the joint connected. A thin ring of black mold had begun to bloom in the plastic, creeping out like soot from a crack. Tenna's laugh died mid breath.

Spamton blinked at him, still proud of the joke, still wiggling his fingers like nothing was wrong, and Tenna wished with his whole stupid oversized heart that it was nothing, just another weird puppet trick to laugh off.

He didn't know the first thing about doll upkeep, but he knew mold when he saw it, and he knew Spamton wasn't going to get that out alone, not with joints that small and seams that hard to reach. So he grabbed cleaning supplies he thought might work, sat with him on the bathroom floor and did what he could...

He got the hang of easing a cloth into the  gaps of his joints without stressing the pins and how to wash the fabric until the water finally stopped turning murky.

Spamton behaved surprisingly well. He sat still, made only a few sarcastic comments. That alone was progress. Considering he wouldn't even rest in the same room as Tenna when they first reunited, allowing someone to scrub mildew out of his seams qualified as a major emotional breakthrough.

Spamton did well with routine, once he had one.

He showered regularly now. Not every day, but often enough that his stuffing didn't smell like a grandmother's basement anymore. He wasn’t built to sweat the way organic bodies did, most days the only moisture he produced came from nerves, which was both inconvenient and deeply embarrassing, so most of the grime he picked up came from outside: alley dust ground into his seams, mud splashed up his legs when he cut across lawns, whatever he picked up squeezing into places no one else wanted to go while he hunted for something he can "resell.

A simple shower helped with all of it. His plastic feet had practically no grip on the porcelain. They looked like shoes at a glance the pointed fronts, a little raised heel built right into the sculpt more hoof than anything, the kind of design choice meant for style, not stability.

On dry floors he moved just fine, but the moment water hit tile he had to slow down, testing each step like the ground was covered in ice underneath him. Tenna bought a nonslip mat for him, one of those stone-textured ones that looked like a tiny riverbed. Spamton called it "an [Elderly Accommodation]" but warmed to it faster than he'd admit. And he was meticulous about drying himself afterward, standing by the space heater in a towel, rotating slowly like a rotisserie chicken so the warmth reached his stomach and sides evenly. He hated mildew with a burning passion.

Tenna never commented on it beyond a fond, "You're going to cook yourself one of these days," when he caught Spamton sitting a bit too close for comfort. He was mostly plastic, after all, the kind that could technically melt if he ever hugged the heater instead of just hovering near it.

Spamton even had a warped thumb from years ago, the surface smoothed and slightly flattened where a broken lighter had briefly turned it soft before cooling again. He joked about it sometimes, holding the thumb up like a cautionary tale, insisting it gave him "character" and an "ergonomic grip."

Spamton was still independent and stubbornly so. He even drank water without being reminded, which Tenna considered a personal victory.

He still had that instinct to preen. It just expressed itself differently now.

Sometimes he polished the scuffs on his plastic casing until he could see the vague hint of his own reflection. He smoothed the fabric over his torso like feathers that weren't there anymore.

Sometimes he'd climb up beside Tenna just to "fix" his antennae, bending them out of shape and then carefully back again like he was tuning an instrument and then straightened his tie with unnecessary precision.

Tenna pretended not to melt every single time. He had never seen anything cuter in any Dark World, and he had worked in children's television.

Today was one of the quiet days. 

Tenna was stretched out on the couch, one arm draped along the back, the other resting  on Spamton. He was half asleep in his lap, curled like a cat that had decided this was its spot now and that any further discussion would be pointless.

Tenna loved it, loved him, but sometimes the softness of these moments hit with a strange ache. He still wasn't used to it. For so long he had only imagined being close like this, imagined a version of Spamton who would let himself lean on him, let himself be held. And now here he was... Changed in so many ways, but he was here.

Tennas hand moved absentmindedly, kneading Spamton's stomach through the thin fabric of his shirt. It was soft there. A little uneven in places where stuffing had shifted over the day, lumps smoothed down with patient pressure.

Spamton made a little pleased sound as his shoulders relaxed even more, his tail flicking slowly.

Tenna adjusted his grip slightly, letting his hand slip beneath the edge of Spamton's shirt until his palm rested against the seam that ran down the center of his torso. The stitches were familiar beneath his fingers, a narrow, the quiet structure that kept everything where it belonged. It was simply part of him now. And he had long since stopped trying to find the right word for how Spamton had come to exist like this, because every term he could think of felt wrong in some way or another. "Built" sounded too mechanical and "made" sounded impersonal. Neither fit the person curled up against him. He didn't want to think about how that body had been created, or transformed or whatever the proper word was for how a person ended up like this. It was just… Spamton.

He felt cool under his hand the way he often did, his temperature always a little lower than it should be. The warmth from Tenna's palm seeped slowly into the fabric and fluff beneath it, and Spamton seemed to lean unconsciously into the heat, soaking it up like a snake seeking the warmest sunny rock.

Tenna's thumb traced a slow line along the seam, not really thinking about the motion at all, simply grounding himself in the familiar texture of the thread line

But something didn't feel quite right.

He brushed the spot again and felt the faintest ripple of uncertainty sliding down his spine. He shifted his fingers and pressed more carefully this time, slower, letting his attention narrow around the sensation beneath his hand. There was something there, a firmness that didn't belong.  It wasn’t  large, just a small resistance beneath the plush, like a stubborn little knot of something that refused to flatten.

For a moment he wondered if it might be something Spamton had used to replace old stuffing. A scrap of foam or upholstery...maybe he was just touching a packing peanut lodged at an unfortunate angle.

...Or maybe it was nothing at all.

Bodies were strange sometimes, and Spamtons definitely more than most. Perhaps this was simply how he felt on certain days and Tenna had never noticed before. Trying not to worry, he smoothed his hand over the spot again, practically petting him now, coaxing what deems like compacted stuffing to settle back into place. For a moment it seemed to work, whatever firmness had caught his attention softened slightly under the pressure.

But the thought didn't comfort him at all. If anything, it felt as though he had only pushed the thing further down rather than removed it.

Spamton decided to shift at that exact moment, He rolled a little further onto his side, pressing comfortably against Tenna’s arm, clearly under the impression that this was intentional affection and not investigative prodding. 

"Hey, Spammy?" Tenna asked softly, his hand still moving in slow, absent strokes as though the touch itself might keep the moment from turning serious.

"Mm. Present and [Prosecutable]. What's up?

"Is that supposed to be there?" Because subtlety had never once survived contact with his curiosity, Tenna gave the spot an experimental little press, he didn't mean to squeeze him so firmly...but Spamton flinched hard enough to jolt against him.

"[[Hurt2.wav]] THAT’S [Normal Type]!" he said quickly ">TAHT] S MY [Bonus Upgrade]!"

Tenna pushed himself up, peering down at him.

Spamton groaned as the sudden shift dislodged him from his perfect little crook "C'MOO[Online]!! [Cathode], I WASj H  C0MFY." He shifted sideways to reclaim some version of the position he'd lost, his stubby tail giving an offended twitch as he settled against the cushions instead.

Tenna gestured vaguely toward Spamton's side. "What even was that"

"...O-OH!   THAT" he said lightly. "OL' [Steel Baby Boy]'s BEEN [Hitchhiking] A [Carpool] FOR A FEW [Fiscal Quarters]

Tenna crossed his arms and waited...the silence stretched long enough to get uncomfortable

"...Okay." Spamton held out for another second before cracking. "Okay. Fine. It's. a.. sewing.. needle."

"A needle" Tenna repeated slowly. "Because that felt like a lump. Not a… stick

"MAYBE Y oUR [Digits] R JUST [Big1988]!!"

Tenna huffed a quiet laugh. "I mean, yeah. They are," he admitted, glancing down at his hand beside Spamton's much smaller frame. He pressed the spot again, careful not to hurt him. "But that doesn’t explain why it felt like a marble...is it supposed to be there? or did it just happen.

Spamton waved it off immediately. [Hay] IT HA$ NO T [Dying] M[= YET [Wright]?

"I know you're trying to joke, but that's dangerous...that could stab you. And I do not like that you're acting like you don't care.

"OH [Relaxium Calm]!" Spamton said, forcing a laugh. "It's [No?] big [DEAL]. IT JUST @ [Littlest] #####...

" Spamton I am a delicate, system" 

"U ARE [And Another Thing!] VERY LOUD"

"That is... irrelevant, the point is I require regular maintenance. And you give that to me."

Spamton's hands curled into the fabric of his blanket.

"So explain to me," Tenna continued, voice going firm as he leaned forward "why you think I deserve better care than you do?"

OH SURE” he said loudly, waving a hand as if presenting a case to an invisible jury, "[Q&A[ WHAT I$ [Insider] my [GUTS] BUT WH3N I @SK WHATS IN YOUR [[Hyperlink Blocked]] [Suddenly Salad] I M the [Deviantart]"

Tenna just looked at him like someone trying to solve a puzzle with missing pieces. "Spammy, I love you, but I have absolutely no idea what that means"

"I D0N+ KN0\/\/ E!TH3R" Spamton shot back immediately. He was just talking to talk now, throwing up smoke because he didn't want anyone looking too closely at the fire.

Tenna leaned forward, elbows on his knees, trying to get past the act and talk to him.

"You changed my wiring more times than I can count. You've crawled inside my chest cavity with a flashlight in your mouth and yelled at me about budget shortcuts. And you did good work! hell you do better than the tech crew ever managed. Everything runs smoother when it's your hands on it...so why is that normal, but me asking what's inside your stuffing is suddenly so invasive?"

Spamtons mouth opened, then closed. He stuttered around a response that didn’t come together, his usual quicksilver cleverness completely glitching out 

"DON'T [Complement] M3 [Duration Of The Film-] AN argument!!" he barked suddenly, because...well that felt easier than answering.

"Then stop arguing badly" Tenna retorted  in the softest possible way. There was no accusation in his face, only concern and a kind of baffled affection, like he truly could not understand why Spamton was trying so hard to lose a fight he wasn't even in

And that was exactly the problem Tenna wasn’t fighting with him. He was just sitting there, loving him, and he still had no ideas what to do with that.

"I–i'm [Justification] NOT [Used Item] 2 THIS, OK ay?!" he yelled, the bravado dropping all at once

His hands were shaking now. He curled in on himself,  fingers pressing into his own sides like he was trying to hold something together through sheer force

"You [Know It all] WH4T YOU R  [boing]!" he snapped, voice cracking on the edges. "IM STILL [Free Trial] TO [Anime Figure] IT OUT!

Tenna’s whole posture softened. "Oh...Spammy. You could've just told me that!

Spamton let out a high and brittle laugh, one that didn't belong in a living room. "[🎵 Do you know what it’s like 🎵]" He demanded.  To [Wake up Wake up!] and YOU R..." He stopped dead, the rest of the sentence, whatever he was trying to explain dissolved somewhere between his throat and the air

" 1 [Early Morning] MY [JAWS] JUST–" He made a sharp, jerking motion with his hands. "It . fell .off!!"

"Well" Tenna said carefully, forcing a crooked smile that didn’t quite form properly "at least you didn’t have to buy a replacement"

Spamton blinked at him, not blank so much as... wrong footed. Like the joke had reached him, and under different circumstances he would have bitten right onto it, but right now he just didn't have the bearings for it.

'I don't know why I said that" Tenna said.

His antennae wilted and he made the saddest, most apologetic expression he could manage without eyes, his posture shrinking just slightly. It was the digital equivalent of 🥺 and he knew it.

"Ṉ̵͖͖͓̠̜̬͚̫̀͘ǫ̷̧̠̺̻̱̦̙͠  NO [No Problemola] don't don't don't DO T h@ t F4CE"

Spamton snapped weakly, swiping at his eyes like he could erase the image from both of them. "ITH0UGHT[I Was a Young Boy] DY!ng. I [THINK] THAT [End.]. I [Pickupplease.org] IT UP LIK3– [Liker] [[ Oh GOD, t-that's not supposed to be come off!]] AND TH3N !T JU$T .[Alligator Snappers] BACK ON."

He laughed again, small and hollow this time. "LIKE [0] HAPPENED. [But WAIT if you call n–]... I-I DID[Knot] SLEEP FOR [2] [Good Night Sleep Tight]. I KEPT [Please Hold] to [Signia™] SOME THING ELSE   HIT the [%<"*>,^] FL00R

"That is not something you should've had to just... handle," Tenna said, his voice getting rougher the longer he spoke. "You were scared, and alone, and hurting, and instead of getting comfort you had to go straight to cleanup." He dragged a hand down his face. "That's awful. That's awful, Spamton. I'm sorry."

Spamton sat there, shaky and folded in on himself, looking at Tenna like he believed him, for a moment he looked almost embarrassed by how much that had gotten to him.

"MY [Hare] DOESN'T [Miracle Grow] b4ck" he said suddenly

"I was uh..  aiming for a bigger emotional arc here"

Spamton shrugged helplessly. "THIS I$ TH E [Noah's Arc] IM [On Point!]"

"U PULL [IT 2017] O U T, IT [Vanished]. IT S [faux]" he said, voice wobbling as the anger curdling into grief. “I USED TO BE [Cover Girl]ED IN F3@THER$. I [Buy Used Like New] 2 TAKE [Care Bears] OF [Me and Myself]"

His shoulders shook. "I [The Used] TO [Brain matter] TO mySELF. I do[KNOT] [knowledge] HOW [Two] [Life] IN THIS [Thingy]!" he said, almost pleading now. "I'm.. still .learning .how ..not to.fall.apart." 

Tenna started to reach out to him but stopped short.

 "It[Has] BEEN there [Fore] years. 4ND IT H@ S  ' T HURT IN A WHILE S0 [Whatz] THE [New Point of View?] IN [Dissecting] me NOW?"

"In a while?" Tenna echoed quietly...he didn't touch him right away. That was the thing Spamton noticed first.

Spamton had curled in on himself, shoulders tight with hands fisted in his jacket like he could hold his stuffing in place by force of will alone, braced for the usual of someone else deciding what needed to be done to him.

But Tenna just stayed where he was. He had learned the hard way... that when he felt cornered, he snapped first and apologized later. He kicked with those small little legs that did more noise than damage. He scratched, he screamed. Once earlier on, Tenna had tried to grab him just trying to help calm him down, and he ended up with a bite mark on his wrist and a shaking puppet sobbing apologies through a face that couldn't stop smiling no matter how miserable he was. 

So he didn't crowd him but wouldn't retreat either. He stayed close enough that Spamton could feel the warmth at his side, far enough that he wouldn't mistake it for restraint.

He needed space the way a spark needed air. And at the same time, he needed someone close enough that the dark didn’t swallow him whole. That was the part Tenna had only recently figured out, the stubborn duality of him. Push too close and Spamton withdrew himself but pull too far away and he unraveled just as quickly, convinced he'd been abandoned mid sentence.

Tenna shifted a little more to back against the couch,  "Hey" he said eventually, gentle but pointed. "...Hey."

Spamton sniffled. "IF YOU R ABOUT [Too] [Say It Ain't so] [It's Okay Buddy] I WILL SCREAM.”

Tenna smiled a little. "Good to know." He went quiet for a moment then he tilted his head, antennae giving a faint little bob as an idea struck him.

"Do you remember" he said slowly "when you were fixing my wiring and found that sticker?"

Spamton blinked, the kind that suggested his brain had not yet caught up with his face.

Tenna continued like he wasn't sure whether to commit. "It was a  one."

Spamton just stared blankly like he was just  mentally scrolling through cached files and finding nothing helpful.

"Inside my chest."

Now he squinted, head tilting just a fraction, expression shifting from confusion to suspicion to something dangerously close to recognition.

Tenna watched him carefully. "On my left side?"

There was a half second of silence before Spamton absolutely lost it. "OHH MY [Lord And Savior]!!" He laughed so hard he tipped sideways, falling onto the couch cushions in a heap, one hand clutching his stomach, the other slapping uselessly at the upholstery.

"U gave YOUR[Self image] A PARTICIP4TI0N TRO phy.” He wheezed

Tenna flushed pink all the way up his screen. “It was a rough week!”

"[A Rough Week!]"Spamton howled. "YOURE A BROADCAST [Iconic!!!]"

"I Needed the "

Spamton was cackling now with his stub of a tail thumping wildly against the couch. "YOU STUCK IT i  YOUR OWN   [Treasure Chest]LIKE [Nice Job!]! ME"

Tenna crossed his arms "You stuck it on my arm after!”

"AAAAND [Name Tag] IT!!

@ TATTOO" Spamton shot back, still laughing. “I REMEMBER.”

They were both laughing now as it felt like the tension in the room cracked open and drained away. 

Spamton wiped at his eyes. "OK...OOOKAY!! [Wowie Zowie] I [ Facebook Memories] ABOUT THAT"

Tenna sat back relieved. "You moved it somewhere safe and I really appreciated that."

"YEAH WEL· Spamton muttered, suddenly very interested in the button of the couch cushion. "IF ª [5¢] STICKER [Keeps®]  U FROM [Shrink Wrapping] EvEry T!ME YOU [Reading Rainbow] FAN M@IL I [Hidden Figures]!T [EarnIn] a PRO[Motion]"

"...Hey Spams?"

 "yeah?"

"Okay so I mean this with " he began, hands up in the air like he was sculpting the words

"Why is there a needle inside you anyway? I'm just... I am trying to map the logistics here because did you accidentally swallow it...or even purposely like as a good luck charm? Or did you, um... uhm like roll onto it in your sleep and it just... migrated?

Or did you mid repair? Because you do do that thing where you hyperfocus and then suddenly it's hours later."

Spamton flopped back like a sock puppet, like the question had physically struck him down.

"UGHHH. I [Waz] [Hopes And Prayers] WE COULD [Ride Or Die] THE COMEDY [Choo Choo Train] A LITTlE LONG ER."

Tenna waited with hands folded patently in his lap.

Spamton sighed "Okay. Fine. Full story ."

He rolled onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow. "[Okie Dokie]  he began, raising one finger. [CLICK Take a Pic 🎶]  THIS.

IT$ [Frozen 2].

IM [3] [Mega Blocks] FROM H0ME AND [Eye] JUST COM[Mitten] A [Under 18] CRIME."

Tenna's head snapped toward him immediately. "What was the crime?"

Spamton did not even try to look at him. He swept one hand through the air like he was resetting the stage. "[Wee Wee Wee.mp3] ARE N0T THERE [Yeti]. WE 4RE [Bob Ross] A SCENE 0K?"

Tenna leaned back slowly but he was already smiling. He always loved a story. 

Spamton continued, voice dipping into something low and conspiratorial. "IT IS [Are You Afraid Of The Dark?].

IT IS [Nyquil Cold And Flu].

THE [Must Be The Wind] I$ SLICING THROUGH M3 LIKE I AM A [Cheapo] PARADE [Balloons!?]... MY [Lateral] IS ALL[Ready] IN @ BAD MOOD.

I [Have It?] JUST HUMILIATED    SELF IN  [Public Domain]"

"But I thought you said you committed a crime?"

"I DiD" Spamton snapped at him offensively. "BUT TH@T S NO T [Y] I W4S [Marathon]"

"Then why were you running?"

Spamton threw both hands in the air. “Be[Cause and Effect] I [Tripping?] O\/ER a [Decorations!] LAWN STATUE AND [Panic!] [Even Steven] THOUGH I W4S [Not Applicable] YET TECHNICALLY [trapped?]." 

"Oh. OH! You sprinted because you made a fool of yourself."

"YES" Spamton said flatly "WE HAVE [Established Titles] THAT I M DRAMA[Attic]"

"So what kind of statue was it?"

 "[Wii] aR3 not.. focusing. on .the . statue."

"Well I need context!  You said you're  a scene, I can't picture the scene without knowing the props!"

"IT w4s A [Loosey Goosey]!!! A c[=ramic GOOSE [Inside] A [Blue Bonnet] I [Kickin It!] IT AND IT [Homemade] A NOISE THEN I. ASSUMED  WITNESSES...I FLED."

Tenna made a small strangled noise that was definitely a laugh he was trying to kill.

"…[WhatsApp] so [Funny Bunny]???"

"Nothing" Tenna said immediately, which made it worse.

Spamton pushed himself up on his elbows. "U ARE [Creationism] A FACE."

"No I am not" Tenna insisted, already smiling. "I'm just–I am trying to imagine you running" he lifted a hand and wiggled two fingers across the air in a tiny walking motion.

"Like–"

"[DEW] NOT!!."

"I'm sorry but I've seen you hop when you get fast, and you said you ran, and I just–"

"Don't. say. it."

Tenna pressed his lips together. His shoulders shook.

"...[Teen]NA."

"I am not laughing at you" he said quickly. "I promise. It’s just— when you get going you do that little hop jog thing and I–"

"[Tennis]"

Tenna's fingers started tapping lightly against the the back of the couch in an unmistakable rhythm.

Spamton gasped. “NO.”

"I didn't say !” Tenna protested, already losing composure.

"I D0 NO+ SOUND LIK3 [Hollywoodedge, Wooden Blck Hits Raz CRT019402]!!!"

Tenna pointed at him immediately. 'You said it! I didn't say it,  you did!" he took in a breath, forcing himself back under control, though his tail was still twitching with residual laughter.

"Okay" he said much more steadied "Now back to your story. Tell me, on a scale from 'minor misdemeanor' to 'deeply regrettable boss fight', where are we landing?"

Spamton let out a long deep sigh as he felt  deeply wronged by the line of questioning. "I. [Robert] a [ ] of [camels] OFF THE PORCH."

"You shoplifted from someone's

' [They/them] LEFT THE? Th3rE!!" Spamton defended immediately.

"OUT !N THE [Open sesame] ON A [Little House On The Prairie] (OOLER. LIKE A GIFT [Basketball] 4 SINNERS!! THE [HYPERLINK BLOCKED] IS [ I A.M] NOW 3 [Mega Blocks] FROM [hme] CLUTCHING A [Wolf Pack] OF THE  [Negative Review] CIGARETTES I H4VE EVER TOUCHED [And then!] RUNNING [L ike a Bat Out Of He l l]

Tenna leaned forward, hooked despite himself. "Were they at least decent brand?"

"N O"  Spamton said immediately. "They. were. terrible."

"Then why did you--"

"[My Strange Addiction] try TO KE EP UP."

Tenna lifted his hands in surrender "Continue."

Spamton nodded once, satisfied. "So0O̴̩̓̐... RUNNING.

IT IS [Chili] ENOUGH THAT [Users] JOINTS [He Felt A Feeling...] LIKE THEYRE [Comments And Concerns].

I CUT THR0UGH THE SIDE [Off] A YARD TO AVOID THE [Honk2.mp3] BECAUSE I WILL NOT BE [Mockingbird] 2 IN 1 EVENING AND I [Catch!] My [Redacted] ON SOME THING SH4RP."

He gestured vaguely to his own torso.

"FENCE," he clarified... "OR [Maybe Baby] iT WAS A  Decor At Half Price] MAILBOX [] HARD TO [Say It Ain't So 🎶]!!

ThE [Import]ANT DETAIL I$ THAT I F3EL [Joann Fabrics] GIVE AND THEN [Eye] FEEL AIR...

Fluff everywhere. Cold inside... A-And LET me tell you!!! [Cathy]!!

I M ALREADY A [Frozen Chicken]! [Calming Breeze] !N THE [Internal Organs]? YOU MIGHT AS WELL THROW [Spamton] IN A MEAT [men's Foot Locker] AND [Ring Ring telephone. Wav] IT PERFORMANCE ART."

"I still don't know how you made it through a singlewithout–"

"I SAID [I Said!] We R [Hyperlink Blocked] A SCENE!!" Spamton insisted, though his voice dipped slightly.

He rolled his shoulders like he could still feel it.

"My HAND$ ARE [Numb–Linkin Park].

I [Canned]NOT FIND THE [Threads].            I'm TRY I N G to K33p [Under Pressure 🎵] ON THE [Flesh Wound] WHILE STILL [Runway] BECAUSE [×2] I Ha\/ CONVINCED [Me/Myself] THAT THE G̴̢͇͙̃̐̕Ǫ̴̖̊͆O̴̩̓̐S̶͙͙͛̐̎Ę̷̈ HAS [Call Now For A Bonus Gift] THE AUTHORITIES"

Tenna made a small scoff of disbelief at that last addition.

"JUST LET ME HAVE THIS!" Spamton demanded, pacing in a tight circle like a very angry bird. Honestly he almost looked like a weird cockatoo with his hair styled this way.

"I am letting you, I'm literally sitting here letting you monologue."

"O K OK [OK KO] I GET [Home Sweet Home]!! "And I Am FREEZING MY [Hooters] OFF.                                                                    The SEam is [Open Hours] 3N0UGH THAT [Avery] TIME I BREATHE!! SOME[The Thing] Iz FALLING ... So I grab...my kit... and sitdown...so I start sewing."

"My [Chicken Fingers] are [Vibration]"

"The... thread keeps slipping... I drop...the..needle."

"Oh–oh my god, Spammy, your joints must have been locking up so bad, mine seize up if the humidity changes even a little. Did they do that awful thing where it feels like they're grinding?"

"Why were you even sewing outside? Why didn’t you go somewhere warm?"

Spamton gave him a look. He literally paused, craned his whole neck back, and lowered his glasses with two fingers like a disappointed teacher addressing someone eight feet above him.

The silence was heavier than speech and far kinder. If he had said anything, it would have come out at retail volume.

"...Right. Dumpster. Sorry."

"     I$ [Still Water] Open...my [Organ failure] I AM NOT EXACTLY [Inside]THE [Mood Booster] 4  [Easter] hunt. SO I [Grabby] ANOTHER [Need]LE WITH OUT [Eye Spy] FOR THE [1st] [Uno]"

“You didn't check,” 

“I was busy being a bleeding muppet, Tenna.”

Tenna made a helpless, horrified sound and pressed a hand to his own screen.

"Y-you...finished sewing."

"I [Finish Line] sewing" Spamton confirmed. “I [Ty] I+ OFF, I LE4NED BA(K.

I THOUGH [Wow!]!  THAT WAS @ [Misery Machine] EXPERIENCE. I DESERVE A [Cancer Stick]... BUT THEN" Spamton said grandly, lifting a finger again "I [Feeling] SOMETHING [Weird Route]"

"How weird."

"[[Weird! like you know when you got a pebble in your shoe? but inside your shoe lining where you can’t shake it out.]]"

"Ok...and your first theory was?”

I [@$$]UMED [It Follows] WAS GENERAL [Agonizing Abdominal Pain]" Spamton replied calmly. “Which, at the time, was a safe bet.”

Tenna stared at him like he'd just told him he drinks paint water.

To be completely clear  Spamton has in fact, once multiple  occasions drank paint water. But that was unrelated to this situation and would not be discussed further.

"I had a [Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day] NIGHT!!! Spamton snapped. "My STANDARDS WERE [Low Battery]"

Tenna dragged a hand down his face. "And when did you realize that wasn't just normal discomfort."

"[Later Gator]" Spamton said, a little quieter now. "WHEN I     [Wentz] 2 PUT THE 1ST [Kneed]LE AWAY. AND IT [Waz] NT ANYWHERE."

There was a careful pause from Tenna, he was apparently choosing his next words very carefully.

"How deep was it?"

Spamton squinted at him. "[Y] I$ THAT YOUR FIRST [Question Question🎶]."

"I just want logistics."

"I-IT WAS NOT [Shallow Grave]."

"Oh! Wait what kind of  were you using?"

"...You [Arr] focusing [On The Ball] The [Incorrect Buzzer4.wav] PART."

"Well need to understand the structural integrity of the repair."

"IT WAS DECENT," Spamton said irritably. "NOT [1792 Full Proof Bourbon] BUT NOT [Dollar Tree."

Tenna nodded once, absorbing that. "And–so you just left it?"

Spamton simply shrugged.

"You got used to a needle inside you."

"I H4VE [Evolution] TO WORSE."

Spamton finaly leaned back as he N na.  spread his hands wide like he was closing out a segment.

"AAAAND THAT! [Your honor] IS HOW I [Freak Accident] INTERNALIZED A SEWING NEEDLE."

Tenna stared at him for a long moment.

"That is the worst story I've ever heard."

Spamton tilted his head. "I HAV[= TOLD [Ewe] WORSE.??"

"I know" Tenna said quickly. "I know. I just-- why didn't you ever try to take it out."

"I DID!!! I D [Sit Still] THERE WITH THE [Deadly Weapon] AND  TALK    MY S ELF INTO IT.

AND THEN [Snap Out Of It!]!!! E V E R Y [Thyme]!  I THOUGH ABOUT [Gore] MYSELF AGAIN I REMEMBERED ##########. S0 I TOLD MYS3LF ID DO it [Tomorrow Is Another Day 🎵] And then And then And then it [Red Light] HURTING AS MUCH... "IT WASNT COMFORTABLE," he added quickly. "BUT IT DID NOT [Blood Curdling Screams] EITHER."

They sat in companionable silence for a moment. Then Spamton lifted his shirt and pointed to one of the rougher patch jobs along his left side that spread onto his back.

"This scar here," he said. "That night."

Tenna swallowed. He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again and immediately began rambling, hands gesturing as if he could physically organize his thoughts into something useful.

"I can help, okay? Just tell me what you need. I can pull it out, or I can hold you steady while you do it, or–uh...hand you stuff like a nurse? I-I just don't want you doing it alone. So tell me what to do. And I'll do it."

Spamton glanced up at him, looking softer now. "You gonna do the doctor voice?"

"...Do you not like it?"

"N-No I DO" Spamton said quickly, nudging at Tenna knee with his own. "ITS [Anxiety YOU SOUND [Liker] YOU GOT A PLAN!! EVEN W   N YOU DO NT."

Tenna's shoulders loosened immediately, relief brightening across his screen in a soft wash of pink static. "Oh! Good," he said, visibly pleased. "Because it really does help me focus." His tail thumped once against the couch cushion, then again, unable to hide the small burst of giddy pride. "I think better when I narrate."

Spamton snorted fondly. "Yeah, I noticed."

Tenna didn't even pretend to be embarrassed. When he was cooking, he slipped into a calming midday programming cadence, he enthusiastically announced ingredients and measurements like they were breaking news, and Spamton just had to understand the difference between two paprikas.

When they played games, he couldn't resist with the the full TV host persona, the dramatic pauses and exaggerated crowd reactions that did not exist. Even when he was reorganizing cables or dusting shelves, there was often a faint undercurrent of commentary humming in his voice, as though some invisible audience might benefit from knowing exactly why the remote had been moved to the other end of the coffee table.

He did have a plan...some of the time. And even when he didn't, he can put on a voice that made it sound like he did, and sometimes that was enough to build one.

Spamton leaned into him a little more, "IM [Negative] G00D @ASKING" he admitted quietly. 

Tenna nodded. "You don't have to be good. You just have to let me try."

Spamton leaned into him

"…O Kay" 

"Okay [Dr Tennaville] he said carefully. "[Bee] STRAIGHT WITH ME!!"

Tennas fingers hovered near his middle, moving with the exaggerated caution,  pretending to perform delicate mechanical work while clearly fighting the urge to smile.

But the he seized him by the waist and lifted him straight off the couch like he weighed nothing at all. Spamton made a noise, that someone might mistake for distress if they didn't know how delighted he got when manhandled.

"Balance is looking fine" Tenna announced solemnly, turning Spamton upside down like a salt shaker.

"G0OD [Good Reads] NOTE" Spamton squeaked, hair dangling toward the floor. "VERY [PHD]!!"

Tenna rotated him a little further, inspecting him from every angle like he was looking over on item at a pawn shop. "Mobility, looks, good" he declared, dragging the last word out so dramatically it became a physical vibration through his chest cavity.

Spamton wheezed. "U are JUST [The Greatest Show Man] OFF YOU BIG—"

Tenna tapped on Spamton's head lightly with two fingers, as though checking for hollow spots inside. "Mmhmmm Feels like quality craftsmanship" he said flipping him upright again,letting Spamton lean back his open palms.

"Range of motion" he narrated. "Yup! Perfect! Lift, please.”

Spamton lifted them high as if being arrested. “I KNOW MY RIGHTS AS A "[[Small Business Owner]]."

Tenna nodded gravely. "Very good. We have a compliant patient."

A pleased little smile crept across his face as he slid a hand to Spamton's midsection and gently smooshed him back against the couch, his palm dwarfed him more than enough to keep him pinned there without trying.

"Alright" Tenna said in a low, clinical tone that fooled absolutely no one. "Breathing test."

Spamton narrowed his eyes. “You just made that up.”

"Deep breath in  " 

Spamton did, because of course he did. There was something about the weight of it here that made him go pliant without meaning to. 

"In" Tenna murmured again.

Spamton inhaled again. This time he relaxed more completely, head tipping back as he closed his eyes. His fingers loosened where they'd been clutching at Tenna's sleeve. 

Tenna waited, letting him exhale, and on the next inhale, he pressed down.

Not hard or anything like that! just a quick little shove, that he couldn't resist and it made Spamton twitch violently, grabbing at Tenna's wrist.

Tenna's eyes lit up… well...his screen brightened slightly. Aha… abdominal reflexes are responsive."

"STOP [ Get a kick out of:]IT" Spamton shrilled"

“I would never,” Tenna said, pressing just slightly deeper again, smug warmth radiating off him in waves.

Before Spamton could fully recover from the ambush, Tenna scooped him back up with both hands and turned him sideways like he was a plush being inspected for factory defects. Spamton yelped as Tenna’s thumb slid under his tail, lifting it with clinical curiosity that didn’t feel clinical at all.

"H-HEY[ Hay]!!!

THAT is [Private Property]!!"

"I was just checking your spinal flexibility."

Spamton pointed at him accusingly. "YoU WERE [Slef Checkout] MY [@$$]!¡!"

Tenna's face softened with the tragic sincerity of a man attending a memorial service. "Oh...Sweetheart" he said quietly, "you don't have one anymore."

Silence.

Absolute devastating silence.

Spamton screamed like a kettle boiling over, flailing in Tenna's hands. "[Y] [Wood] u SAY THAT TO ME???"

Tenna hugged him gently with one arm to soothe him, while the other continued his "exam" lifting Spamton’s tiny foot and shaking it once. "Yes yes very sturdy. Good traction."

Spamton muffled into Tennas chest "I HOPE YOU K[now]! I ' M [revenue cycle management]  YOU 4 [Emo]TI0NAL DAMAGES."

Tenna hummed sympathetically. "Mmm. We can discuss copay later."

He moved to lift him again by the armpits a moment later like he was stretching a cat. "Checking heart activity" he declared.

"WHAT.

YOU CAN T.

DON’T.

NOT LIKE THAT."

Tenna raised Spamton high above his head like Simba on pride rock, angling his antenna toward Spamton's chest with exaggerated precision.

"Quiet, please" he shushed, antenna angled carefully against his chest, face impossible serious. "This is delicate work."

...tick... tick... tick...

Not exactly a heartbeat, it sounded more like... maybe gears?

tick tick tick

Really it sounded more like the motions of hands on a clock

Spamton giggled through his fingers, the antenna tips tickling him until the rhythm stuttered outright.

...tick...tick ticktick

and then sped up in a flustered, uneven little spiral as he dissolved into ugly, helpless laughter.

Tenna's smile crept in,  he was not going to admit how cute he found this part of Spamton, he thought of it like a little wind up toy.

He didn't move his antenna away just yet. "...Ah" he murmured, tone going thoughtful in a way that was definitely not professional. "Responsive."

Spamton wheezed, kicking his legs a little. "DON'T YOU DARE PUT THAT IN MY [Medical Records]"

Tenna just hummed, entirely pleased with his medical prowess, listening as the rhythm refused to settle back down. ...ticktick... tick... tickticktick...

"Sooooo" he said pulling back, rocking Spamton lightly in his hands "you got insurance?"

"No" Spamton wheezed.

Tenna nodded once, solemnly...then he dropped him. Just opened his hands and let him go from exactly the height he'd been holding him, a perfect, intentional little plop with the confidence of a man who knew there was a soft landing underneath and apparently trusted reflexes over communication, a common issue.

Spamton yelped on the way down. His limbs pinwheeled in a helpless flail before he hit the couch flat on his back, bouncing slightly on the little fleece blanket. For one tight, moment he froze completely not even allowing himself to breathe. Old muscle memory bracing for the impact of a harder surface, a higher fall, a time when nobody caught him.    

Tenna's antennae jerked back in alarm. But before he could reach down, Spamton exhaled in a sputter and then burst into sharp laughter. His tail thumped like a drum against the cushions, betraying him completely. He threw an arm over his eyes like the dramatist he was.

"I m ah...ah OK!" he managed, still breathless.

Relief washed over Tenna so visibly it softened his whole posture. He placed his hands on his hips in a posture of exaggerated authority.

"Well! I guess we can work out a payment plan."

Spamton sat up, wiping tears. “OH?

I SEE.

I KNOW THIS SETUP!!

AI’ve SEEN this one before—[Doctor Offers Patient a Special Payment Plan: Two cock creampie]"

"NO. Nope. We are not doing that!" Tenna snapped, clapping his hand over Spamton's mouth and holding it there like a fucking morality muzzle. "Parental controls are ON."

Spamton purred under the pressure, voice vibrating against Tenna's hand. [Mmm]AYBE [Right Turn] them [Off!] [Late Night With The Devil!]??"

Tenna tried to pretend the heat in his screen wasn't rising into peach colored embarrassment.

"Spammy" he said gently, lifting him again  carefully this time, and settling him in his lap "we can... talk about that after we get you fixed up, yeah?" His voice dipped softer. "I don't want you feeling one way now and then different once we start messing with your stitches."

Spamton blinked up at him, thrown off kilter by the sudden softness in his tone.

Because they didn't know. Spamton might feel sore, raw or just queasy...or he could feel a million times better once that bit of metal was out, relieved in a way that turned him bright and reckless. There was no telling which direction the dial would swing.

"But I want you choosing that moment with a clear head. Not because you're wound up right now.”

Spamton leaned into him again "O-ok OK [Dr Tennaville] [WhatsApp] my Prognosis!?"

Tenna hummed, pressing two broad fingers along Spamton's torso in a slow, deliberate path just light enough not to hurt but firm enough to feel the oddness beneath the plush.

"...Mmm, hmm, yep, you sir might need a stuffing transfusion."

"[Hold Your Horses!]!!"

Spamton sat up a little, eyes wide, hands gesturing frantically at himself.

"Hold ON. Are you sayin' I'm [Skinny Cow]?"

Tenna panicked instantly. "N-no! That's not–"

"All these years of [Nutritional Guesswork], [Dumpster Dining], and [Mystery Liquids]," Spamton barreled on, already pacing in a tight little circle, "and I come out the other side with a [Model Figure]?!"

Tenna snorted before he could stop himself. "Spammy–"

"So what you're tellin' me," Spamton continued, pointing dramatically at his own torso, "is that I was a [Delicate Frame]. A [Starving Artist]. A–"

"You were severely malnourished," Tenna cut in, still laughing.

Spamton waved a hand. "Tomato [Potato]"

"No," Tenna said gently "you were just sick, Spams."

He paused, then pulled into a little almost bashful shrug. "Yeah I know I was kidding...mostly"

Tenna groaned and scrubbed a hand over his screen. "Don't do that to me."

"I live to [Create Tension]."

Before Spamton could escalate the conversation any further, Tenna scooped him up and relocated him to the kitchen table, as if that had been the plan all along.

Spamton barely reacted beyond a surprised little, "Oh!"

"You are fine, healthy. Maintained. Properly fluffed. 

Spamton squinted up at him. "You're not just sayin' that 'cause I'm on the table."

"I would never lie during a medical procedure."

"Mhm," Spamton hummed, clearly unconvinced. "[Shore."

"For the record," he said, 'under fluffed' was a joke. A bit. You're okay."

Spamton nodded. "I [Brain]!

I was JUST [Joker]!

But [HYPO]thetically..."

Tenna raised an antenna.

"[What ifs!] there WAS a [Redacted] issue" Spamton said casually, like he wasn't testing something important, "you WoULd [STEEL] the [GUTS] from THAT 1 pillow we [Do Not Engage] like RIGHT."

"Absolutely not," Tenna said, scandalized. "You can't just use anything. You have a completely different fiber density!

...

"Ok in a life or death situation... yes I would do that for you."

"Good!! Hate that fluffy [Star of Bethlehem]."

"Wait you meant the star pillow!?"

"It's SAD!" [Geometry Dash]  TRYING to [Bumblebee] clever!! Spamton grumbled

"WHERE does MY [Beautiful Head] go???"

Tenna's expression melted into pure delight. "It's not  it is decorative." he explained, antennae curling into a bright little heart before he could stop them. "It just ties the room together!"

Spamton opened his mouth to argue and then didn't. Because, objectively, the stupid thing did tie the room together. The neutral toned black couch. Deep blue curtains. The yellow star nestled perfectly between them for a contrasting color. It was annoyingly correct.

"[Fine Print]. But if [U] get a [Lovley Pair] [Luna] shaped one?? I'm [Makes Claims] IT. That [Unit] ID actually US3."

Tenna lit up like someone had switched him from standby to full broadcast. His tail wagged once. Then again... then faster.

"Yes. Yes! Aww oh gosh you woukd just fit perfectly in the little curve! Oh that would be perfect!" He caught himself mid enthusiasm, still beaming all the while.

"Okay, okay," he said, bouncing once in place, trying to reel his energy back in. "Enough lollygagging. But we will absolutely look into that later." He wiggled his fingers ominously toward Spamton's side. "Now let's take care of you."

Spamton sighed like he was just about to endure a mild inconvenience instead of y'know a minor surgery. "[Yeah Yeah] Just [Grabby] the [Scizor] and GET this [Game Over] WITH."

"Spammy, no. We don't have good scissors in this house. They're all dull."

They'd been run through wire, cardboard, plastic, and anything else Spamton had decided he was working with a the time, the man had many projects and grabbed whatever was nearest at the time.

Spamton immediately pointed toward the counter. "Those?"

Tenna followed the gesture. "The knife block?"

"YEAH. Spamton repeated. "BIG [Shiny 🎶] scissors."

Tenna inhaled slowly... Very slowly. "Spamton," he said with immense patience, "those are kitchen shears."

"YE4H? 

"They are for veggies."

"THEY R just–"

"And," Tenna continued firmly, raising a finger, "for cutting bones and cracking shells."

Spamton's jaw clicked shut. The rest of his argument retreated immediately. He lowered his gaze, eyes drifting down over his own chest, over the smooth plastic of his skin, the hollow space inside that Tenna had just very helpfully compared to seafood infrastructure.

"...OH..."

"They would technically work," he admitted. "But they're a little much for this kind of job."

"[Correct] let's [Probability] NOT use THE [Red Lobster] tools..."

"I probably still have my embroidery scissors somewhere," Tenna said, already turning toward the hallway.

Spamton finally layed back onto the table. "Go [Fetch Rewards] your [Dainty Princess] scissors."

"I will!" Tenna said brightly as he hurried off with earnest purpose, tail swishing behind him. "And I'll be riiiight back."

The house filled with the soft sounds of Tenna searching, cabinet doors opening and closing, drawers sliding just a little too far before being nudged back into place. Spamton stayed and listened, the faint clink of metal shifting against metal carrying easily down the hall.

He could picture it without looking, Tenna crouched in front of the little cabinet that was practically one giant junk drawer, tail curled loosely behind him, antennae tipped forward in concentration while he chewed absently at the inside of his cheek, trying to remember where he had last put the sewing tin "somewhere safe."

A brighter metallic clatter rang out, followed by a dull knock and a sharp little inhale.

Spamton chuckled under his breath. Tenna had Probably stood up too fast and bumped his head again, there would be a quick rub to the back of his head, and that reflexive glance around the room even when completely alone.

The rummaging resumed with renewed purpose, more deliberate now, until at last the small, decisive snap of a tin being shut echoed faintly toward the kitchen. A moment later Tenna rounded the corner holding a slightly dented metal container in both hands, looking quietly triumphant.

"Okay!" he announced. "Tools acquired!"

Spamton stared at it for a long, wary second. Then, without breaking eye contact, he inched backward on the table, palms planting behind him as he scooted away with the slow caution of someone retreating from a very small but very real threat

"Oh"he muttered. "0# [$#%^]. This I$ [The Happening]" 

Tenna leaned onto his elbows on the table so he was closer to Spamton’s eye level.

"Hey now" he said gently. "It's a nice little kit. Look! everything is clean. And I promise it's safer than whatever you've used before."

Spamton huffed a weak, humorless laugh. "You HA\/E [Negative] IDEA–" Tenna raised a finger. "Shh. You can tell me more survival stories after, okay?"

He slid the kit open slowly, narrating like it was the most normal thing in the world.

"This isn't surgery, I know we joked earlier" he added. "It’s just some maintenance. Like... like when you help clean my vents.

Spamton’s gaze flicked to Tenna’s chest, to the vents he'd helped filter and re aligned more times than he could count.

"[Yeppers]" he said. "Yeah [All Recipes]Right"

Tenna smiled,  felling encouraged his metaphor landed. "You used to have a whole toolbox for me."

Spamton snorted. "[Hey Man What Gives!] I U$eD TO [Have It? Need It!] My own [1st] AID [Kits]"

Tenna looked completely unamused "That was some  falling apart thread with a few bent and rusting needles and some paperclips inside a playing card box "

"It [Work Shopped]" Spamton said bitterly he was still a bit upset that those items got thrown out, but he did understand that hoarding those kinds things just didn't help anyone"

"You deserve proper maintenance tools" Tenna said firmly but without judgment.

Spamton swallowed. "OK" he said. "[Cool Cat]. Coolcoolcool. THI$ IS [Non Fiction] HAPPENING"

Tenna nodded. "We can stop! We can do this another time if you aren't ready."

Spamton shook his head immediately. 

"NO.

I WANT IT."

He said as his hands curled into his chest.  

"JUST–

I.

I [Want The Usual?] Do this [Part 2] ALONE."

Something about that made Tenna’s expression soften in a way Spamton couldn’t quite stand looking at. "Well" he said, carefully but still in a casual tone, "I do have the steadier hands here."

Spamton winced.

Tenna's arms weren't what they used to be. Sometimes they jerked or the motors caught for a second too long. Spamton had even tried to fix it once, tools spread across the carpet in a hopeful semicircle. He crouched doing his best to peer inside only to discover there was nothing to fix. No loose wire to tighten, faulty servo, damaged motor, botched soldering, misaligned gears, faulty lubrication systems. No smoking gun in the circuitry, much to his annoyance. Just Tenna's old, battered joints doing whatever the hell they felt like, after his arms had been sliced open and he cracked his head on the way down, something inside him never quite calibrated right again.  

It wasn't an everyday thing. Sometimes Tenna would drop a dish or he could lose his grip on the strap of a grocery bag. Sometimes, rarely, he would even have to put Spamton down because his shoulder twinged like an buzzing wasp.

Spamton never seemed to mind. When Tennass arms began to ache, he knew the feeling all too well.

He'd quietly hop down and carry on happily beside him, But Tenna still hated it, not so much the pain, but the look Spamton gave him, that quick flash of wanting to fix something he couldn't get his tiny hands around. Spamton just loved fixing things, even when the only thing that needed steadying was Tenna.

So Tenna being himself, sweetheart with just a streak of manipulation still clinging to his circuitry would occasionally let out the softest whine imaginable, even if he wasn't hurting in the slightest. Just enough to make Spamton perk up.

Just enough to make him march over and say "Gimme [That Thing!]!"  now trying  to carry something two times the size of his own  damn torso. And Tenna would stand there, happy as can be watching his partner take up space in the world again.

He couldn't give him the life he was meant to have, but he could make sure he was needed in this one.

So when his hands hovered uncertainly now, he noticed the hesitation immediately. He flexed his palms and curled his fingers. "No pressure" he said soft. "You are completely  with me."

Spamton exhaled through his nose, tight but trusting.

Tenna eased himself into his chair and set the little metal tin down with more care than the situation strictly required. Most of the space was taken up by neatly wound spools of thread in dozens of colors, their surfaces glossy and untouched, but he moved those gently aside for now. Beneath them sat the true contents, small embroidery scissors, a seam ripper with pink handle, a few needles tucked into a felt strip and a little measuring tape curled in on itself like it had been asleep.

Spamton leaned in, eyes bright with a strange mix of excitement and dread.

"That [Thingamajigger]!

L00KS [ Similar Results] a TINY HARPOON"

"It's a very polite instrument" Tenna assured him as he picked up the seam ripper. "It only attacks thread."

" IT [Bettergoods] Spamton muttered.

Tenna put it down quickly, hands lifting in surrender. "No scissors" he said immediately.

"Your stitches here are just too . They'd just laugh at scissors and refuse to let them in. This little guy, though–" he wiggled the seam ripper between his fingers "slides under one loop and cuts it clean. It even has this cute little safety thingy so I don't accidentally gut you."

Spamton's pupils went wide. "I-I [Would You, Could You, On a Train?] PPPREFER not BEING [Brutally Mutilated."

"I would also prefer that" 

He looked back down at the tools, swallowing hard. "So we just open this up. Kind of like how they..."His voice pitched embarrassingly high. "dissect people?"

"[Y] []OULD YOU [See And Say] that

O U T

[Exploud]???"

"I'm nervous!"

"So am I!" Spamton snapped.

 "Okay, okay, we can't both be nervous. One of us has to be the brave one." Tenna sat up straighter. “Right. Yes. I can be brave. I can be–oh gosh." He pressed both hands flat on the table to stop their trembling. "Okay. There "

"Y34H!!. GOOD JOB [Prime Time]"

Tenna reached for the felt strip of needles, touching each one gently as though greeting old friends. “Alright. You know yourself better than I do, so...what gauge would be most comfortable?"

Spamton perked up in a way that was nearly adorable. He leaned forward until his nose almost touched the row of needles, evaluating them like he was choosing jewelry.

"THIS[sss] 1 is [Goodie] OR ANYTHING [S] than that.

SMALLER is [Grrrrreat].

Just not [Biggering 🎶].

Please .nothing .bigger than that one."

Tenna's heart clenched so visibly he actually made a small squeak, and his antennae curled into anxious spirals. "I don’t want to hurt you" he whispered. "If I use something too big and"His voice faltered. He looked one breath away from crying.

Spamton immediately tried to backpedal.

"HEY

DO[knot] G0 [Softies] on me!

Im [Built Ford Tough]

I CAN hand.le it."

Tenna nodded vigorously, though his voice remained fragile. "Right. Yes. You're very durable. But still, I want to use the gentlest tool possible. You're... you are important."

S0 before YOU go [Dig a Ditch] around IN mY [Internal Affairs]!!are U [Even Steven] qualified for THIS???"

"Well" Tenna said carefully "I've never removed a foreign object from a sentient puppet before."

Spamton's mouth dropped open.

Tenna hurriedly added "But! I have watched Toriel fix the kiddos clothes. And toys. And... uh. One time a chair.”

Spamton nodded immediately. "Oh. OK. GO0D"

Tenna's shoulders drooped just a little at the mention of her. "She was really good at it" he said quietly. "Very patient with them"

h-HeY Spamton said quickly, forcing a scoff. [C'mon 🎵] Don’t [Get It Before It's Gone) all [Tender Moment] on me now.”

Tenna looked down at him.

"I MEAN it" he said, sincerely giving tenna a pat on the wrist. "You R DOing great."

"aww thank you Spammy."

Tenna chuckled weakly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Guess I get a little...glooby."

"Yeah..." Tenna continued, oblivious for a moment  "You probably feel the same about your umm" He gestured vaguely. "Your flock? Group?" Tenna tried.

"What the heck is a bunch of Addisons called?"

"C–can we [Pretty Please]  not do this while I’m   THE   [[OPERATING TABLE]]?"Spamton snapped, voice pitching sharp with old anger.

Tenna winced immediately. "Right. Nope. My mistake. Baaaad timing."

He switched gears instantly, gentle but brisk, a good host redirecting a segment.

"Okay! Alright, my darling."

He smiled, sweet and reassuring. "Bathroom break before we start?"

"NOP[="

"You comfy?" 

"[Correct]" Spamton said patiently.

"Not too cold? Table not hard on your back?"

"No"

“Need a pillow or anything?”

"N0?."

"Just checking! You want a good luck kiss?"

Spamton hesitated then nodded, suddenly shy.

Tenna bent down and pressed a soft kiss to his... well his teeth, kissing is still pretty awkward when one of them didn't have any lips to kiss with.

"Okay" he said as he sat properly again, little tool in hand. "Any last words?"

"T-Ten-nnn–T

...

[10% off]."

Tenna laughed nervously. "Okayokay. I' starting."

Tenna leaned in slow. "I'm gonna start now." he said again.

Spamton laid perfectly flat on the table, arms folded behind his head in a posture that was ninety percent bravado and ten percent genuine attempt to relax.

" I [A.M] ready.

Do your WORST"

He worked the tool carefully under the first stitch and snapped the thread loose.

Spamton hissed out a whine at the sudden tug.

"O-okay" Tenna blurted, immediately pulling back. "Oh god I'm sorry. I can stop. I can–"

"No NO" Spamton said quickly, breath shaky but steadying.

"It DOES [Pain Scale 8]. THAT S JUST– [It's Gonna Be Alright] [Little My] SKIN [Dude]"

Tenna winced harder than Spamton had. "I hate that."

Spamton cracked one eye open to look at him. "  U doing  [[Great!]]. I HAV3 [All Done! [Hyperlink Blocked] TO [Mi] with [Whey] less [Nice And Clean!] equipment."

Tenna continued stitch by stitch. Most slipped loose easily, but every now and then one caught and tugged just enough to remind them both what he was doing. Spamton flinched again, letting out a breathy laugh. 

"I'm so sorry" Tenna said again.

“Spamton said, softer now. “I said it’s okay.”

“I’m so sorry,” Tenna said again.

I said [Iz] [Okie Dokie]

Tenna hesitated for a moment, looking down at the work in front of him, then back at Spamton. His antennae twitched uncertainly.

"Can... I hold your hand?" he asked quietly. "Just– if it hurts, squeeze me."

Spamton blinked at him, confused by the question more than anything else. 

"YE4H"

Tenna offered his pinky finger 

Spamton wrapped his hand around it, thumb bracing against the metal joint. His grip was small but firm, cool where Tenna's casing was warm.

More of the seam opened under his hands, and the white stuffing inside began to show itself in soft, snowy tufts. It was brighter than the yellowed fabric around it, plush and delicate, the closest thing his body had to living tissue. Innocent in a way the rest of him no longer got to be. Tenna's fingers hovered, tempted by the texture, by the give of it, by the strange intimacy of seeing something no one else ever would. He adjusted a bit of fluff with a claw only because it blocked the next stitch, forcing himself not to linger.

He wished he could've seen him when this body was new, before the shine of the plastic dulled and started to crack, before the stuffing caught onto the scent of old cigarettes. There must have been a first day, a moment when Spamton looked down at jointed hands and soft fabric and didn't understand what that meant yet.

Spamton stared at the ceiling. “…So how many guys you had laid open on a table like this?”

"Please don’t phrase it like that!"

"[Butt] IM nervous! L3t me deflect with [18+] [Quest] [Ions]!

Tenna snorted while shaking his head as he kept working. When the seam finally loosened fully and fell open, he paused, set the tool aside, and gave Spamton a chance to have a moment 

He craned his neck, took in the sight of himself opened , stuffing rising and falling with each breath and then immediately recoiled.

GHH why

AM I [Human Being] squeamish [Aboot] my own ####? It ME!" He slapped a hand over his eyes, then peeked again like he couldn’t help himself.

I Have [Witerally] been [Cast Aside] into TR4SH compactor!!

Ive BEEN stepped on.

Get it [We're All In This Together 🎶][Spamton G Spamton!]!"

But instead of spiraling, he gave a crooked, slightly hysterical laugh at his own ridiculousness.

Tenna smiled, relieved by the sound.

"It is lot to look at all at once, I'd probably feel the same way if you handed me my own gears" He reached out, instinctively brushing his fingers along Spamton's upper chest, above the open seam.

Spamton’s breath hitched and it made Tenna freeze up. "Oh! wait oh no did that hurt?"

"NO] Spamton said quickly. " It

JUST [Ribbon Felt] like–" He grimaced at the sensation of cool air brushing directly across his exposed stuffing.

"ITS [Like And Subscribe] a [AO3 Draft] in my [Intestine].

I don't like it."

Tenna bit back a sympathetic laugh.

"That makes sense, well finish this up quick. Lemme just–" His hand drifted up again without thinking, brushing through Spamton’s hairline, then down the side of his face.

Spamton squinted at him. "@RE YOU [Petting Zoo] me???"

"Nope..."

Spamton groaned, but only because his body betrayed him instantly.  His breathing settling, his eyes fluttering half closed, touch starved little puppet finally getting handled the way he needed to be, melted like he'd been wired for exactly this.

Tenna waited until he felt the tension bleed out of him, until and the tiny tremor under his stuffing quieted. Only then did he speak again.

"Spamton?"

"Mmm?" Spamton hummed, barely present.

"I'm gonna need to reach inside, but only if you're okay with that."

Spamton blinked up at him with hazy, unfocused eyes, almost like the sentence required a full processing cycle. Then he nodded lightly.

I. 

Am Good.

[Truthsticks]. I just [Kneed]ED a [2nd" He waved one hand aimlessly. "[Dew] WHAT you [Gotta Go!] D0"

Tenna exhaled, relieved. "Alright."

He brushed his thumb once more over Spamton’s cheek. "Gimme your hand?"

Spamton blindly reached out until he found one of Tenna’s huge fingers and wrapped both of his hands around it, gripping tight.

"OK!! !! [I'm ready, I'm ready, I'm ready.]"

Tenna's screen warmed into a soft warm glow. The sight of Spamton holding on to him so trusting damn near melted his servos 

"Alright now" Tenna murmured, steadying his free hand over the opening. "I’m gonna go slow."

Spamton nodded, squeezing at every little spike of tension, every moment where the new sensation made him want to clench or pull away. But he didn’t. He stayed right there, holding onto him, breathing through the strange exposed feeling.

Tenna carefully adjusted a bit of displaced fluff and leaned closer.

"Okay" he said, voice a quiet rumble. I'm gonna look here. Just squeeze me if anything feels bad."

"Got . it." Spamton took one more breath, bracing with dignity he absolutely did not possess a minute ago.

Tenna smiled softly, almost reverent.

"Good. Now let's see what we got going on in here."

Tenna slipped his fingers into the opening, careful and slowly, he was respectful of the fact that this was not a machine panel. Spamton jerked slightly, breath faltering.

"GEEZ [I can’t believe It's Not Butter] I flinched @THAT. I Am $UCH a [Babyscry34.mp3]".

"Oh shut up you are not,” Tenna said immediately. “You’re doing amazing. Seriously.”

"THAT–" he started, then laughed. "[Eek.23.mp3] That I$ WEIRD!!"

Tenna froze. "Weird bad?"

"NOPE Spamton said, surprised. "Just… [[Weirdo]]. Like [Anyone] [Whisper Confessions] IN yo UR [Ears] and you F33L it [inside Out] your [Heartbeat]"

"Okay... that’s very specific."

"I AM a [Homeless  Man] of [[EXPERIENCE POINTS]]" Spamton said solemnly.

Tenna continued, fingers probing gently through the stuffing. The texture changed under his touch it became denser, packed tighter like scar tissue.

“Aha.” Tenna brightened. “There you are, you little troublemaker!

Spamton tensed, then immediately forced himself to relax. "ok [Just Do It!]

Do the 

THING."

Tenna adjusted his grip, carefully isolating the shape buried inside, He finally caught it between his claws.

He worked slowly, easing the needle free inch by inch careful not to tug at him, he woukd hate to tear anything. It resisted at first, lodged deeper than he originally thought, surrounded by stuffing that had clearly tried to protect the area.

It eventually slid free with a few more gentle pulls. Tenna pulled his hand out, holding the needle up to the light like examining a gem.

Spamton gasped and laughed in the same breath.

" OOH H0ly [[Sugar Honey Iced Tea]] he said, voice incredulous and breathless. "That [Feels Like–] GOOD!!!"

"Really!?"

Spamton flexed experimentally, eyes widening. "0h [Mine] [Dog]. I D!DNT  realize [How Much You Got?]  THAT [Sucker] [Until Dawn] it WAS NT THER3 ANY[ Gimme More!].!"

Tenna felt something in his chest unclench so hard it almost hurt. He looked at the needle, then the needles layed out in the table noticing how it's larger than anything they owned, then back at Spamton. "Wow. That was really in there.”

Spamton squinted at it. [WOWIE].

I.  HATE.  that THING"

Tenna held it up to him like a trophy. "What should we do with the parasite?"

Spamton thought for a second. "[Can Do!] WE cremate !t?"

"Hmm now that is temmpting."

He set the needle aside carefully, well out of reach, then turned back to Spamton.

"How do you feel?" he asked, whole heartedly earnest.

"[Zippo] he said, surprised. "Which FEEl [Liar Liar Pants On Fire]. But ALSO [Super Duper Nice]

Tenna nodded, biting his lip. "I really hate that you lived with that, we'll close you up in a minute"

"Y-you R [Knot] gon[NaNaNa] just [Lead] m[= 0P3N right??"

Tenna smiled weakly. "As funny as that would be, no."

He reached for the sewing kit again, then paused." Oh–hold on" he said.

He tipped the kit gently, spilling its contents onto the table. Thread spools rolled and clinked softly against each other. Reds, blues, greens, a gold and silver, neutrals, a few brighter colors mixed in.

Spamton stared at them then turned his gaze back to Tenna "WAIT" he said slowly.

Tenna glanced at him. "yeah?"

Spamton’s tail twitched. "I GET [two] [Choose Wisely]? ?"

 “Of course you can! It’s your body."

Spamton’s face lit up so fast it was almost comical. "ooooh" he breathed. OohHhH U [Cereal]?!?

Yeah! If you want something  or something or  I won't stop you."

Spamton laughed, high and disbelieving, "Are Y0U [[Kidding Me!?]]? I\/E BEeN [Rocking] [Missing File]  CLOSE to MY [Fingies] 4 YEARS!!"

Tenna chuckled. "Not today we got  plenty of options."

His neck joint clicked softly as he craned farther, eyes tracking the spools like they might make a break for it.

Spamton hummed thoughtful for a second "[Okie Dokie] OK [All]Right.

No [Under Pressure 🎶].

JU$T my ENTIRE [Middle]SECTION!."

Tenna hovered nearby, hands folded behind his back, trying very hard not to loom. "Take your time"

Spamton leaned his head a little farther, inspecting the lineup. Reds and some purples and blues. A ton of neutrals but those are boring. A couple questionable browns or maybe even greens he couldn't tell"

"OH [Wait A Minute!].

Tenna followed his gaze. 

Spamton lifted his chin, eyes wide under his glasses.

"TH4T one [Sparkle Sparkle~]"

It was subtle, an iridescent white spool, thread catching the light just enough to shimmer when it moved. 

And Spamton stared at it like it had spoken to him.

"[CATHODE]!! This [One And Only] $PARKL3S!!" 

Tenna smiled before he could stop himself. "It does! It's very shimmery."

Spamton's tail started wagging outright now. " I W@NT to [ I Saw The TV Glow] AGA!N!!!"

"Yeah?" Tenna said gently.

Spamton nodded hard. "[!] I [Used Product] to [Glow Worm] ALL the TIME! BA(K WHEN I was...[Oh y'know!] me me"

Tenna didn't even try to hesitate. "Of course, sweetheart."

"IF.

I [Pick Up Sticks] the WRONG

[Uno] does MY [Tummy] GET [Angry bird] at me??"

Tenna snorted softly. "Whatever you pick, I'll make it look good."

Spamton relaxed at that, shoulders easing back against the table.

Tenna snipped open the packet of thread with the scissors, sorting through the contents until he found the smallest needle he owned. In his mind, smaller meant gentler. Smaller meant it would hurt Spamton less. Whether that logic actually held up was debatable, but the intent was there.

He stuck his tongue out in concentration as he tried to thread the iridescent strand through the tiny eye. The thread slipped immediately, slightly slicker than standard threads it's practically designed to mock anyone with hands Tenna's size. He tried again. And again. Each time, the shimmering thread slid away like it had better places to be.

Spamton watched, sighed through his nose, and held out a hand.

Tenna didn't even look at him. "You can't rush art, Spamton. Just gimme a second."

"What [MOTION PICTURE] is THAT [From: Your Friend]?"

Tenna dropped the thread again and let out a frustrated growl.

Spamton clicked his tongue. "Would YOU [Gimme Gimme] THAT TH!NG!? IM [Naked And Afraid] here!"

Tenna surrendered needle and thread with a long-suffering sigh. Spamton threaded it almost instantly, flicking the needle back toward him with infuriating ease.

Tenna stared at him, genuinely annoyed. "It was from Toy Story 2."

Spamton brightened, laughing as memory struck him. "OH! [Wright]! The [Ant Sized] CowB0Y with the [EXTREME SEPARATION ANXIETY].  The [Grandpa] fixes [He/Him] UP and [All Things]! MAAAN I [You Really Need This] what [Other] guy HAD!!"

Tenna steadied his newly threaded needle, took a breath, and asked quietly  "You ready?"

Spamton squinted up at him. "As Ill 3vEr BE."

Tenna hesitated, then looked down at him with a compassion he didn't bother to hide. "Do you really want me to repaint your cheeks and shine your eyes like that?"

Spamton did tend to scratch his face when stressed, and the markings had become more scuffed than stylized. He cleared his throat. "YOU!!

U JUS+ [Wanna Play?]  D0ll [Girl Go Games]!"

Tenna shook his head, flustered but earnest. "I mean, I would love for you to experiment with your wardrobe, yes. But I just think you deserve a few touch, you'd look absolutely beautiful."

Spamton nearly short circuited on the spot. He tried to hide how much that hit him, mumbling, "MAYBE. [ Another day, Another Dollar]" even though the pleased twitch of his tail he tried to hid by sitting on it betrayed him completely.

Tenna nodded brightly. "Right. Right. Cosmetics later."

The old thread was completely gone now, every stitch he'd removed gathered in a neat little pile beside them like a tiny shed skin. Tenna lined up the fabric edges again, hesitating, repositioning, he was  second guessing himself every few seconds.

His fingers hovered, then shifted, then hovered again. He was trying so hard to recreate whatever factory worker had done over s decades, but his hands kept wanting to fall into their own rhythm instead. When he finally lowered the needle, Spamton made a small opinionated  noise.

"[Press Start] LOWer" he said, tapping the spot with one finger. "OTHER[Wize] U R G0NNA [GIft] ME a [Stranger Things]  B3lly WrInkLE."

Tenna immediately adjusted and lined up properly ' Oh yeah! Good catch.”

Spamton hissed when the needle went in sharp inhale, then a weak laugh. "[Yep, yep, yep!]  Still [Flesh]

"Ohhh I know" Tenna murmured, wincing apologetically.

"IT S [Fine Dining]" Spamton said quickly. [Personal] JUST LIK3 2 com[Airplane]"

Tenna worked more carefully after that, slipping into the slow pattern his hands naturally preferred. It wasn’t the near invisible straight stitch Spamton had been created with with, nor the uneven ones Spamton used  on his own patch jobs, no matter how hard he tried the tension from working on himself without a mirror was usually off.

And Tenna, in full concentration was almost unbearable to see, antennae stiff straight forward, voice steady.

"Okay, not too tight, loosen that one... good, good we want structure, not strangulation."

Tenna's version was different he was doing blanket stitches, visible and even, each one holding strong over the edge like a bright little ribbon hugging his fabric closed. The iridescent thread shimmered each time it caught the light, a detail Spamton absolutely lit up over as the line built up over his stomach. 

"There you go. You're okay" Tenna said under his breath. "You're doing really good for me."

He exhaled slowly, like he was pacing both of them through it.

"Almost there. Just stay with me."

When the seam was finally secure, Tenna tied it off with a simple knot. He checked it once, then again, then leaned in and pressed the tiniest kiss over the new stitching like he was sealing an envelope and sending it somewhere lucky.

He drew back just enough to inspect his work, hands hovering uselessly before he finally clasped them behind his back to stop himself from fussing with it again. "That's closed, right? It looks closed."

Spamton glanced down at his middle and gave it an experimental little pat. "[Ding Ding Ding]!! IT IS"

Relief hit Tenna so hard it nearly made him sway. He leaned back on his chair instead, trying and failing to look normal about it. "So" he said, stretching the word until it practically glowed "how did I do?"

Spamton looked up just in time to catch the hopeful tilt of his head, the way his hands had gone still with anticipation. It was impossible not to hear what he was really asking.

So Spamton gave it to him.

"You [D.I.D] [[10/10]] he said, and Tenna visibly lit up.

[The Whole Truth]!!!

[For Realsies]. It [Weck Signal Strength] HURT, the [Patchwork] R EVEN, NO[Ting] pulling [Ouch1.wav]  and you [Magically Delicious] made ME LOOK [Better Help] than I did [Before/After]. Which [Bi] the WAY I$ [Mariana Trench] OFFensive."

He poked lightly at one of the little loops, watching the shine shimmering in the light. "[Who's That?] TOLD [Recipient]  YOU RE [Authorized] to B3 GOOD @this???

THAT IS MY [Job Application]!!. IM  [[Fixer Upper]] AROUND [Right Here Right Now 🎶]"

Tenna made a helpless, delighted little sound, like praise shorted out half his circuitry in the nicest possible way. "I just wanted to do it right" he said, too pleased to hide it.

"Aw [H3L L]" Spamton muttered.

He touched the new stitching again, gentler this time. The loops were more visible than the old factory seam, prettier too, soft little arches marching down his middle in shining thread. He stared at them for a second too long.

"I m PRETTY...

SHUT <P up, I HAVING A [Precious Moments] he grumbled."

"I didn't think I'd ever get to see you shine again."

Spamton sighed through his nose, looking away before the feeling in his chest could get any bigger. He had written that version of himself off as dead years ago, filed it away with all the other things he thought were gone for good. Seeing even the faintest hint of that glow reflected back at him now did something strange and tender in his core.

So he tipped his chin toward his side instead.

"Hey" he said. "While you're here. . ."

Tenna followed his gaze to the small section of loose stitches there, much smaller and rougher than the ones he'd just replaced.

"C4N YOU [Please Help Them] with THES3??" Spamton asked. Then, before he could lose his nerve, he added, "[Eye] LET YOU [Get The Goods] the [[Crayola®]]"

Tenna completely froze like a deer In headlights. "Really!?"he asked, voice quieter and a little stunned. "You're sure?"

Spamton shrugged, trying for casual and missing by a mile. "I [Trust Fund] YOU!"

Tenna’s expression turned so unbearably fond that Spamton had to look at the ceiling for a second.

"I don't want to pick something you'll look at later and go 'wow, that was a mistake' " Tenna said. "I mean, I'll still stand by it, but–"

"[Lock Pick] ME a [Coloration] Spamton said, snorting. "WhatEVER [Creation] you [Happy Appy]. YOU R the [One And Only] one [The Who] gonna [Vision it]"

That hit Tenna like a hand to the chest.

"Okay" he said, suddenly breathless with joy. "Ooooh. Oh! I get to help. Okay, now what color would make you look even prettier?"

"Alrighty Let's see."

"So blue is alway beautiful on you, right? Oh jeez we have so many blues... But! then this yellow is super warm it's just bright and cheerful, which you are even if you pretend you're not.   

Tenna kept sifting through the spools, narrating his thought process like it was a live broadcast only he could hear. Blues slid through his fingers, then creams, then something almost silver. He frowned thoughtfully at each one before setting it aside. "Okay, so red is classic right, reds always safe. But maybe we don't want safe! Maybe we want

Maybe we want statement!"

Spamton lay back on his elbows, trying to look unimpressed and failing miserably. 

Tenna nudged aside a few whites and greys and paused.

"Oho" he whispered, fingers hooking under a spool half hidden beneath the pile. He pulled it free and held it up triumphantly. "Oh this one is cool!"

The thread was metallic green, bright and glossy, catching the light in quick, sharp flashes as he turned it.

Spamton blinked, something tightening unexpectedly in his chest. "It S SHINY" he said, as if that explained the sudden flutter he felt inside. " I Like [Shimmer And Shine]

It was also the color of the puppet strings that used to control him. The same sharp, synthetic green. The color of money, too hungry and promising. He had been a number one rated salesman after all.

Tenna smiled at that and brought the thread down to test it against the lowest part of Spamtons side, right where plush met his hips. The placement was unfortunate.

Tenna tilted his head, studying the alignment.

"Oh no."

Spamton narrowed his eyes immediately. "WHAT!???" [Watt] HAPPENED???"

Tenna bit his lip, clearly trying not to laugh. "Spammy. It's right where a cutie mark would go."

"A [HYPERLINKBLOCKED]????"

"A cutie mark!" Tenna said, delighted. “From my little pony! The one about the magic of friendship. When they figure out what they're good at, they get a little symbol right here.” He tapped the exact spot on Spamton's hip where the thread rested.

So...YOURE [Say It Ain't So] ME" he said carefully "That [Magic Mike] horses get [Xs] tattoos WH3N they [Action Figure] out THEIR [[Career Path]]

Tenna nodded earnestly. "Yes. Well. They're not just horses. There are unicorns and pegasi and lots of other things. There is a lot to learn."

Spamton squinted. "So they HAVE [The last Unicorn]"

"Yes."

"ANd flying ONES"

"Pegasi" Tenna corrected, pleased.

Spamton considered this deeply. "S0 what you're S4YING" he said slowly, [IZ] that [Hypothetical] had BEEN BORN a [pony], I would HA\/E [Receive In The Mail] a [Certified Professional Marketing] symbol THE MOMent I closed MY [Babies First] deal."

Tenna laughed. "Maybe! But–oh  well no, not really. All Addisons sell things" He waved a hand, trying to organize the thought. "It's not the sale itself. It's more like... what keeps you going back to it

Spamton squinted. "The [KROMER]."

"I'm serious," Tenna insisted, smiling a little. "It's the part of you that really matters." The part that keeps trying even when anyone else would have quit! You keep going even when you really shouldn't... That's the thing that sticks." 

"...Right.

So we're [Sweet Talk] THE [Import] parts." Spamton nodded, unusually solemn  He glanced up, wide eyed and a little hopeful. "...Can I be a [Sky Stallion]?"

Tenna didn't even hesitate. "Of course you'd want wings."

[FREEDOM] T3N[Nah]!!" Spamton said dramatically, spreading his arms as much as his current situation allowed. I [Have You Heard]> BEEN [Threw] some [Stuffing]"

The softness in Tenna's expression flickered for just a second before he hid it behind a grin. "Yeah. You have."

He snipped a length of the metallic green thread with careful precision and picked up the needle again. His tongue stuck out slightly in concentration as he attempted to thread it.

Once. Missed, Twice? The thread slipped through his fingers.

Spamton 

"No" Tenna muttered, determined.

On the third try, the thread slid cleanly through the needle’s eye.

"YOU D!D U [Liar And A Theif] somehow?¿‽"

"Ha! No!" Tenna said, delighted.

"Oh Spammy! should...should I do some embroidery? A dollar sign? Since it's right in the spot."

"[No Means No!] Spamton said instantly, scandalized. His tail betrayed him by giving a single excited twitch. "[Were] NOT [Committed Relationship] to THAT yet."

"Oh come on, it'd be funny"

[Red Light]

"Just a tiny thing? It would be so cute"

"NO[Negative Review] [NOPE] [Teen[NA]!!"

Tenna laughed and finally refocused, bringing the needle closer to the loose stitches. He examined the frayed threads critically. “Okay these stitches here are"

"[Ugly Duckling]" Spamton supplied.

“They are not ugly" Tenna protested. "They’re just a tadenthusiastic.”

"IT R [Fuggler®] "

Tenna huffed. "I think if we use the scissors, it would hurt less if we can cut all of them at once, right?"

Spamton looked at him carefully, then extended his hand without hesitation. "[Tell Me A Story] WH3N"

Tenna took his hand automatically, squeezing it gently as he positioned the scissors. "On three, okay?"

"One."

He tightened his grip slightly.

"Two " 

Spamton's fingers curled around his.

"Three."

Tennas scissors slid cleanly through the cluster of loose stitches.

Spamton hissed more surprised this time, not sharp with pain. His fingers tightened around Tenna's for that moment and then, just as quickly, relaxed.

 Spamton breathed, genuinely startled. 

"THAT.

[Skill Set] ACTUALLY [Working Girl]!

"Did it hurt less?"

"YES!" Spamton admitted. He released Tenna’s hand, flexing his fingers once as if testing the aftershocks. "GOOD [House Call]!!"

Tenna's flower bloomed like a sunrise. "Okay, good! let's close you up"

Spamton watched him work through half closed eyes, feeling strangely warm, not from the stitches themselves or from tenna near him, but from the way his antennae made tiny micro tilts every time he pulled the thread taut, the way he kept muttering under his breath like he was afraid to get it wrong.

It wasn't much space an maybe an inch but Tenna handled it like it mattered more than anything he'd ever done with his hands.

"There" he whispered "All secure."

He set the needle aside, then slipped one steady hand to the small of Spamton's back and the other to his side.

"Okay, come on. Sit up slowly."

Spamton braced and let Tenna pull him upright, the two of them moving in careful synchronization. His repaired side tugged a little, but it held firm, it was held together by somebody else's patience and skill.

When looked up, Tenna was already looking at him.

...He looked pround. Soft in the ways Spamton still didn’t know how to handle without feeling like his chest was about to combust.

Tenna rubbed his thumb, gently, over the new stitching.

"You look "

Spamton froze, breath catching, blinking like still he wasn't sure he had heard right.

And then just barely his tail wagged softly. He stayed seated for a second after, blinking before  carefully pulled his shirt back down over his stomach, smoothing it down like he was tucking away a secret.

When he stood up, his eyes widened.

"Oo00H" he breathed, twisting at the waist experimentally. "I [Amnesia] what [Standstill] without the [Electric Stabbing Sensation On One Side] F3LT like!!"

Tenna nodded vigorously, antennae bobbing. "That's wonderful. That is exactly what I was hoping for."

Spamton rocked back on his heels and then forward again, testing the distribution of weight like a cat rediscovering its own limbs after a nap. He bent slightly, then deeper, gauging the resistance. 

Spamton had learned the hard way that not all thread felt the same once it became part of him. Some seams behaved, melting into the fabric like they’d been there since day one. Others tugged at the wrong angle, pinched when he bent, or just made him feel like a stranger in his own skin. Different threads flexed differently, breathed differently, carried weight differently. So he always had to give new stitching a trial run, see how it flexed, how it bent, whether it cooperated with his body or tried to boss it around. And now...now that he actually had options instead of whatever he'd scavenged he could take the time to feel out whether this one fit him. Just picking what made him feel most like himself.

He blinked down at himself "...[Cartoon Confusion Vibes1.wav]

Tenna hovered a step behind him, hands half-raised like a nervous stage parent at a recital.

Spamton took one exaggerated step forward. Then another. Then just because he could, he hopped down from the table with a light thud and landed squarely on both feet.

"[Lettuce] [Test Drive] THESE" he declared.

Tenna brightened instantly, clasping his hands together. "Yes! Please do. Very thorough field testing. We support innovation in this house."

Spamton bent at the knees. Twisted side to side. Lifted one leg, then the other. He leaned backward until he nearly tipped and then righted himself with a quick flick of his tail. Each movement pulled at the seam just enough for him to catalog the sensation. These ones felt... responsive. It flexed when he flexed, they didn't argue.

He crouched and stood again, faster this time.

"OK!! 

OH [!$!] W0W!!" 

Tenna beamed like he'd just been handed a trophy.

without warning, Spamton decided the only logical next step was a stunt.

The seam felt good, better than good actually! and the sudden burst of confidence went straight to his head. If it could handle a stretch, surely it could handle a little spin, right?

[Watch Mojo] THIS"  he started, already committing.

He flung himself sideways with far more enthusiasm than structural planning, one leg kicking up in what might have become a graceful cartwheel arc if he’d been ten years younger and significantly less rickety.

He made it halfway before gravity finished the rest.

There was a sharp clatter as his shoulder clipped the chair and his legs followed with all the coordination of dropped coat hangers.

Tenna gasped and lunged forward. "Oh no no, I just patched you up!" he exclaimed, scooping Spamton upright before he could complete the maneuver by face planting entirely. "Spammy! My love letter, what did we say about flinging ourselves around?"

Spamton wheezed out a laugh from somewhere near Tenna’s elbow.

"[Wii] said [Username] I$ allowed [Too] [Meowth Used Play Rough!] IF IM not [Call 988]!!!"

Tenna froze mid lecture and immediately began backpedaling, words tripping over each other as he tried to respect the agreement they had very carefully negotiated months ago.

"Yes, yes, that is what we agreed on...controlled chaos is permitted" he said quickly, holding up both hands. "I-I'm not revoking that. I just...there are floors involved, and–and I'd really like that seam to hold for more than five minutes" he winced.

"Maybe let your stuffing settle for a minute before you start doing acrobatics, okay?"

Spamton grinned up at him, entirely unrepentant. "I'm f!Ne" he said, brushing imaginary dust off his sleeve. "[C]??"

He demonstrated by bouncing lightly on the tips of his feet, then doing a small, ridiculous skip in place. 

Tenna's face softened into delighted disbelief. "Oh! Your posture improved!" he announced, circling Spamton, assessing him from every angle. "That Is just delightful. You're standing like an upstanding citizen."

Spamton exaggeratedly straightened, chin lifted high and chest puffed out.

"Didn't [When Will You Learn!?" I W4S compensating THAT H4RD" he admitted.

He bent forward and touched his 'toes' testing the seam again. The iridescent thread stretched without complaint. He twisted at the waist, then leaned dramatically to one side as if dodging an imaginary bullet. the sharp internal resistance that had once interrupted every motion was gone.

After a brief pause, he suddenly turned toward the hallway "And..." Spamton said while already skipping ahead of him toward the stairs "I [Use Your Noodle] I CAN [Green Means Go] UPstairs without doing THE [Itty Bitty] sideways [Shuffle Board]!!!" 

Tenna clasped his hands together, delighted beyond measure. “A miracle!”

Spamton paused at the base of the stairs and, for the sake of nostalgia, demonstrated the sideways shuffle anyway. He turned his body at an slight angle, slightly dragging one foot upward and then leaning dramatically as though ascending an invisible staircase with exaggerated fragility. It was a pure mockery of himself, of the way he used to tilt to avoid pressure along his middle.

And bounded toward the real staircase.

The first step took easily. He paused, feeling how the thread flexed as his torso bent and was met with just the ordinary strain of movement.

He took another step, and then another.

Tenna hovered at the bottom like an lifeguard, hands twitching with the urge to catch something that wasn't falling.

Spamton turned and tried to shoot him a look. " I am [Negative Results For Search Results] GL4SS,” he said.

"Oh I know" Tenna replied quickly. “You just look like you could shatter dramatically for narrative purposes.”

Spamton chuffed and continued upward. The stairs had always been a negotiation, now he climbed straight.

Halfway up, he paused again, experimentally twisting at the waist as if checking whether the old compensation would automatically engage.

He took the last few steps in a small, buoyant hop.

Upstairs, something thumped lightly, probably Spamton testing another unnecessary maneuver, and Tenna opened his mouth to protest, already gathering the start of another worried lecture, but the words fizzled out before they could fully form.

Instead, he leaned against the banister and listened to the sound of light quick footsteps pacing the hallway above, followed by another small, satisfied thud. So he just shook his head, smiling to himself.

It was just a needle that was really all that changed. The worst of Spamton's hurt was still buried where no tool could reach, and it would surface again someday. It would inevitably flare, and they couldn’t stitch that shut.

Pain like that couldn't vanish it only eased between waves.

Tenna just hoped Spamton would let him stay through the next one.