Chapter Text
A quiet Krismas at home with his own family.
Tenna had never allowed himself to hope for one, sure that it wasn’t in the cards for him. A happy little nuclear family with a house in the suburbs to call his own was what he’d wanted more than anything… and here Spamton and Spispi were.
Spamton had returned safe and sound from Midnight Mass, and promptly curled up in front of the fireplace with Spispi. He’d come home reeking of incense, with a faint whiff of peppermint beneath. It was reassuring to smell something other than grease and rot and stale, fermenting sweat upon him. After weeks of Spamton smelling like the games room of an anime convention, it was a relief to smell something pleasant coming off of him instead.
He'd taken care with his appearance, too, putting on his finest suit, a tailcoat of red velveteen. His hair, too, was black again; though he hadn’t bothered to get it trimmed yet. Tenna had offered to do it for him, but Spamton had declined… Something about not trusting a man without hair with a pair of scissors.
And while his jaw was… different… it was still nice to kiss Spamton again. … Even though Spamton didn’t have any lips with which to kiss back… and even if when he pressed his lips against Spammy’s teeth it felt like kissing basswood.
Once Tenna was sure that Spamton was asleep, he pressed a kiss against his favourite man’s forehead, before tiptoeing off into the Canyanero to get his Krismas gifts. He returned to the living room as quietly as possible, setting three stockings filled with goodies on the fireplace mantel, and two brightly-wrapped gifts adorned with bows beneath the tree.
He finally brought over the rest of the cushions from the couch and laid them out beside Spamton. He really wished that he had another blanket. Spamton had always been a bit of a blanket thief, but the habit had increased as much as Kromer since they’d returned home. He craved warmth, and any blanket that wasn’t swaddling Spispi found itself piled atop Spamton’s shoulders.
It was a good thing that Tenna’d gotten used to a lack of blankets back in their… earlier days. How many nights had they spent on the couch in Tenna’s office? In the backseat of the Cungadero? In Spamton’s too-small bed?
He drifted off to sleep, memory blending with imagination as his screen went dark.
***
“Daddy! Daddy!” He’d never heard the voice before, but it sounded like a voice he’d heard a thousand times before.
A swish of movement passed in front of his screen, and jumped into Spamton’s arms. He was wearing a ridiculous pair of sunglasses, and a shabby black blazer missing the top two buttons. He looked… like Spamton. Disreputable, with a sleazy sort of energy that gave him charm.
“I brought home [Microsoft Paint].” It was Spamton’s voice, sure as snow.
He couldn’t make out the girl beside Spamton. She was a ball of static in his vision, incomprehensible.
What he could see was Spamton painting a big blue sky, and fluffy white clouds, and a bright ball of yellow light with lines descending from it. Slowly, surely, darkness was filled in. Everywhere that Spamton painted turned real, until finally, finally…
He painted the girl.
She had the loveliest nose that he could possibly imagine. It was long and pointy and the spitting image of Spamton’s. To think that anyone could have such a beautiful nose – it was almost beyond comprehension.
And her eyes – she had eyes – one was pink, and the other was yellow. They were wide-open, darting everywhere, entranced by the movement of a cloud one moment, and the sway of grass in the breeze the next.
She turned towards Tenna, noticing him for the very first time. “Hey, dad? Could you spot me some money?” She said in the most sing-song voice, lilting like a windchime.
She was Spamton’s daughter alright. There wasn’t a lick of doubt in Tenna’s mind.
He pulled his wallet out of his tailcoat and handed it over to her.
“Thanks Dad! I love you!” She brought her hands together enthusiastically, before pulling Tenna into a hug.
She ran back to Spamton, waving her hands this way and that. Tenna couldn’t make out what she was saying, only that she was enthusiastic about it.
“Tenna? Tenna? [[Trash Heap]]?”
The world faded away, and the grass against his feet melted away into shag carpeting.
“[Trash Heap], come on, [get FREE kromer] up!”
Spamton, despite his small stature and physical weakness, had pulled Tenna’s feet onto the carpet, and was actively lifting him into a sitting position by the wrists. “There’s [FREE] [cotton socks for men] filled with [Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy]!”
He shoved a stocking into Tenna’s hands, the contents of Spamton’s own already flung out across the floor beside the nest.
Tenna obliged, fans whirring to keep down the heat from the fire. Maybe it was a good thing that he’d slept without a blanket after all. Inside were an array of sweets and nuts that he’d bought himself, and a fresh orange.
Spamton was actively peeling his, body craving nourishment.
The pregnancy had been so hard on his little body. “I hope you like it. Oranges don’t grow here, so I had to get it imported.”
Spamton bit into it, juice dribbling down his chin. “It’s [Turn up the JUICE!] [Turn up the JUICE!] [Make Sure You Don't Get It On Your Shoese!]”
Tenna wasn’t sure what Spamton was saying, but he seemed to enjoy the fruit.
He chewed upon a walnut himself, savouring the woody flavour. “Merry Krismas, Spamton.”
Spamton worked his way through all the goodies in his stocking, before typing his fingers up Tenna’s arm slowly but surely to his shoulder. “Hey… are you going to [The deadline has passed.] yours?”
Tenna plucked off a slice of orange and plopped into Spamton’s mouth. It was strange seeing someone chew without lips. Spamton had always been rather messy, but they’d somehow managed to get even more slovenly.
“There’s a stocking for Spispi, too.” He handed Spamton the rest of the orange, as he fetched the smaller stocking for her. He rubbed at her shell, gentle. “Spispi, sweetie? It’s Krismas morning. Santa Claws brought you some gifts.”
He busted out his acting chops, pretending that he hadn’t been the one to buy all of these things himself and was instead seeing them for the very first time. “Oh! It’s a cardboard book! With a story in it! Oh wow!” He ran his hand along the side. “Cardboard feels like home, Spispi. It’s like being back in the womb, except for TVs.”
“She’s not going [houses with large backyards for children to play in] inside my uterus.” Spamton, Tenna’s goodies plundered, plucked a candy cane from the tree and sucked on it.
“Well, cardboard feels safe, and comforting. Like… like your shell.” He ran his gloved fingers over her. “I associate it with before.” He mused.
“Got anything for her besides [cardboard boxes]?”
“Well, er…” he pulled out cardboard book after cardboard book. “I – mean – Santa picked out a bunch of cardboard books. Umm… maybe we should open the presents under the tree.”
Spamton perked up at this, scampering underneath and lugging out two large boxes. “Are these [buy 1 get 1 FREE] for me?”
“Oh, Spammy! Only one of them’s for you, the other’s for Spispi.”
Spamton took a quick glance at the tags before ripping the gift wrapping off of his, and dumping the cardboard box upside down, eager to get at what was inside.
A cuddly bath robe fell out and a faux fur blanket made out of cruelty-free polyester landed in his lap. He ran his fingers over the robe before burying his face in it, sniffing. “Smells like [traffic report] fumes.” He relaxed, wrapping it around himself, and tying the sash. He brought the blanket around his frame on top of the robe, and moved closer to the fire.
“Do you miss Cyber City?” Tenna broached the subject.
Spamton nodded. “Yes, but… it’s [turn volume down] here. For this [Season’s Greetings!] of life, I am [hyperlink blocked] to stay here.”
Tenna reached out and held Spamton’s cheek in his hand, brushing his thumb against it. Despite his transformation the rosiness had remained.
“What U [checkout] for Spispi?” Spamton asked.
“Why don’t you open it?” Tenna suggested.
Spamton tore into the wrapping paper, once again turning the box upside down to ‘liberate’ its treasures. A set of at least a dozen different bows fell out, all attached to elastic headbands that could attach to a pipis without needs of pins or buttons or magnets or Velcro or any potentially-damaging sort of closure.
“Who [Handmade Craft Fair] those?” Spamton picked one up, stretching it in his hands.
He whispered into Spamton’s ear, wanting to avoid ruining the magic for Spispi. “I asked Mike if he could have the costume crew make them for her.”
Spamton gave two thumbs up, then tucked the headband around Spispi’s head. “She looks [(2592×1464) capable front-facing camera] ready.”
“Have you changed your mind about acting for Spispi?” Tenna’s screen brightened. “She’s got a face made for television!”
“No. Child. Labour.” Spamton enunciated each word slowly, doing his best to avoid any voice clips that could be used against him from getting through.
“Well, when she hatches, she’ll convince you herself.” Tenna teased.
“If she hatches.” Spamton ran his fingers against her warm shell.
Tenna wrapped his arm around Spamton’s back, offering support. “It’s my fault, you know.”
Spamton shook his head, refusing to make eye-to-screen contact.
“She needed so much magic because of me, not you, Spamton.”
“I was the [$1] with [insufficient funds] magic.”
Tenna pulled him closer. “You could’ve sustained any normal pipis.”
“Will you still [I Love TV!] her, even if she [Never Have I Ever] hatches?”
“I love her, Spamton, just as I love you. No matter how much you change, or if you stay the same way that you always were, I’ll love you. If our little clam stays a little clam, I’ll love her. If our little clam hatches into a big brave bird, I’ll love her. She’s your daughter, and nothing will ever change that.” Tenna promised. “I’ll take care of her, and I’ll never stop caring, until either her or I break.”
Tears fell from Spamton’s eyes, unbidden. “And [spam email]?”
“I love you, Spamton G. Spamton.” He brought his hand to his lips, and gave it a warm kiss. “I may not always recognize you,” Spamton had gone through so many changes to have Spispi. “But I’ll never be able to blot my love for you from my mind.”
“I love [TV], [Cathode].” Spamton murmured. “I’m [My Condolences] I didn’t get you a [Birthday Present].”
“But you’ve already given me the greatest gift of all.” Tenna picked up Spispi, placing her in both of their hands. “Our daughter.”
Happy chirping filled Tenna’s antennae, and a new pipis formed, falling onto the blanket nest beside them.
It might not have been quite how Tenna imagined it, but he finally had a family. His hopes and his dreams had been fulfilled.