Chapter Text
He doesn't know how long he’s been lying there.
He knows that at some point the shivers racking his body disappeared, and the stabbing pain in his leg froze over into a dull throb. He knows that he’s been wavering in and out of consciousness- but that since he’s hurt he should stay awake. He knows that ambyu-lance on the other side of the alley failed at that. And that their chest had stopped occasionally rising.
He tried not to think about that.
He knows that he’s sorry, that a crushing sense of guilt had burrowed into his chest. But he’s not entirely sure why. His thoughts, much like everything around him, were slow and icy. Weighed down as if they were traveling through thick blankets of what lightners call snow.
He also knows that he disappointed his brothers, as much as he hates to admit it. He’s known that for a while. He’s known it in strangers' strained smiles. He’s known it in his long hours of working. He’s known it from the moment he was born. He can’t sell, he can hardly keep a job. He can’t even socialize right. Even when a lightner walks up to him and asks us to buy his stuff he still finds a way to mess it up in the end.
He knows that he disappointed Kris, too.
Kris… they actually believed in him, didn’t they?
And he threw it all away. He was going to leave them to be arrested by Queen. He was fully ready to betray them. Why did he want to betray them? Kris was his friend . They’d been nothing but kind and patient towards him and he let them down again and again.
Now this is what will become of him, nothing but glitched code in an alleyway. Spamton let out a breathy bitter laugh as his already fuzzy vision blurred. It made the dim blue city lights above him dance in a familiar, nostalgic way. Like once again, he was that lost program who spawned in too late.
His eyes slipped shut.
—-
There was still no sign of Spamton.
Banner had suggested they split up to search and then regroup in a few hours. He was the first to arrive back on Addison alley and he waited patiently on the sidewalk for his brothers to join him.
It seemed like the whole city was asleep that night, save for a few odd programs he saw during his search. Most of which were police helping look for his brother. He couldn’t blame people for staying in, it was terribly cold out. Even in his long buttoned up coat he shivered.
Banner frowned, remembering seeing Spamton’s comically small coat left on the hanger. Despite Payton’s and Click’s pestering, Spamton never took his coat with him to work. Hopefully he’s warm. Hopefully he’s safe. Banner had hoped that Spamton really was at a bar somewhere. And that this would all end with desperate hugging- then an hour or so of scolding. Even that was better than the alternative. Because the alternative meant Spamton was in danger.
Banner took a deep breath of icy air, trying to unravel the tight anxiety in his chest. Click, Flash and Payton were appearing from around a corner and walking towards him. Seems like they found each other first. Nobody looked happy.
They didn’t say anything as they trudged up to him.
Silently he took in his brother's conditions. Payton’s previously strained smile had faded into an open display of despair. Flash was no better, weakly glaring at the space between his shoes like it was the cause of all this. And Click, ever the leader, stood tall. But looked no less weary than the rest of them.
Click said what they were all thinking. “We need to take a break.”
And deep down, Banner knows he’s right. It just feels so wrong. Spamton was still out there alone, lost and possibly freezing. They couldn’t just go to sleep now.
He glanced to Flash, who was oddly despondent, if anyone was going to object he would’ve thought it’d be him. But it seems Flash’s tried too.
“..We search first thing in the morning.” Banner said with a quiet spark of determination. “I’m taking off tomorrow.”
Click smiled tiredly. “Of course, I assumed we all are.” Then he dusted off his own dark magenta coat as he spoke. “We aren’t giving up, we just won’t be of any use to Spamton like this. Don’t need us passing out on the streets.”
Payton nodded. “First thing in the morning. We’ll find him.”
With that settled Banner pulled an arm around Flash- hopefully easing him out of whatever spiral of thoughts he was sinking in as the four Addison’s traveled home.
He pretended not to see the dead virovirokuns they passed on the walk back.
—-
Spamton was floating.
Somewhere dark, numbing.
And... loud.
It wasn’t the familiar sounds of Flash and Banner bickering, or the repetitive shuffling of documents he had to sign. Or even the angry honks of monday morning traffic.
No, it was a large, muffled hum that filled up the endless expanse he drifted in. Like white noise, it was easy to zone out too. He didn’t mind floating away with the deep current. He was content with the waves of murky tranquility wafting over him.
But…
There was... something. A silent pull in the back of his head, a distant whisper that there was something he needed to do. Somewhere he needed to be. Someone was waiting for him.
Spamton frowned and ignored it nonetheless, the urge was foreign and nonsensical. He was done, this was it. It’s over.
Despite himself he could feel the ‘ something’ draw him further.
It was forcing things into focus, sucking him away from the cool depths. He tried to resist it. To pull away. To hang onto this peace he’d found. He doesn’t want to go back. He’s not ready ! Things were wrong out there. He can’t—
“ Spamton!”
He gasped for air as his surroundings came crashing in on him. It was cold, dark and- An alleyway. He was still in the alleyway, surrounded by looming blue-brick walls and crouched up against the wall. It was early morning, probably. The ground beneath him was rough, doing nothing to comfort his leg as it flared with pain.
But the figure hovering over him demanded more attention. He could hardly believe his eyes.
Kris was standing there. And they looked much better than they did the last time he saw them. Their right arm no longer dangled out of place and the messy cuts on their face had all scabbed over.
The sight of them made his stomach twist with an emotion he couldn’t describe. It took him a while before he recognized that Kris’s mouth was moving, that they were talking to him. All he could hear was static.
Then they shoved something into his face causing him to sputter. He managed to grasp the item- it was soft and pale-pink. Some sort of star-shaped candy.
Food.
Computing just how hungry he is, Spamton shoved the candy into his mouth. Only to be surprised by the flavor. It was sweet, akin to marshmallows in consistency and quite possibly the best thing he had ever had. He hadn’t realized just how hungry he was until that moment. He savored the taste.
Now done with his less-than-a-meal, Spamton tentatively met Kris’s gaze. They kneeled in front of him, one knee on the blood-stained ground as they watched him scarf down the candy blankly.
“Heal yourself.” They said.
Spamton quickly listened, the candy had revived a spark of energy in him that he used hovering over his broken leg. He didn’t have the energy to summon a miniature version of himself- so he tried doing it directly. It wouldn’t be enough, not even close. Even best healers in cyber city aren’t skilled enough to fix bones with just magic. He almost said something- but he caught sight of the motionless ambyu-lance in the corner of his eye.
He wasn’t scared . He wasn’t. They were fine. Lightners are good, Kris wouldn’t-
Spamton rested his hand back down, the magic once again emptied and leaving a cold chill behind. The bone was undoubtedly still broken but it’s the best his magic could do. The swelling, at least, had lessened.
Kris looked down at his leg which was very clearly still bent out of shape. “That’s all?”
Spamton cringed, they sounded displeased.
“I..” His voice was hoarse. “B- broken bones they.. they don’t heal well” Despite himself, he rambled on, looking up at Kris with a mixture of confusion, awe and something else he refuses to recognize. He’s not afraid of them. He’s not.
“You… came back for me…?” He breathed out.
Spamton saw Kris reach out for him and be braced for the inevitable shove. But it never happened.
Instead, Kris rested their gloved hand on his shoulder and gave a faint, warm smile. “I was always going to.” They said, “I want to help you. You’re defective, so I knew you might betray me at some point.” Kris reached into their pocket, pulling out a small ring.
“I’m sorry.” He bit out, ignoring the small, ugly part of him that wasn't. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m so, so sorry! My attacks are just unstable- and they could’ve really hurt them I- I’m sorry. I tried I swear I tried-” He didn’t know what else to say, after everything they still wanted to help him? A random glitchy program who can’t even listen? But of course they did. They’re a lightner. Lightners are good.
Kris sighed. “Spamton. I told you why I’m here.”
He clamped his mouth shut, managing to sit himself up a bit straighter. The Addison code in him insisting that he tries to keep good posture. Spamton blinked. Trying and failing to get his fuzzy brain to remember. “Sorry..“
“I am here to seal the dark fountain.” They almost scolded, idly fiddling with the spikey ring. “If I don’t succeed, the world will be plunged into darkness. I’m doing what’s necessary to keep that from happening.”
Spamton eyed the bruise forming on his wrist, then the scattered attacks the ambyu-lance had fired. He had nothing to say.
Kris’s smile disappeared. “I thought you could understand. I’m giving you a purpose , Spamton. But you couldn’t even make it to your keys.” Again Kris dug into their pocket, easily pulling out a pair of silver house keys. His keys. They dangled it before him.
On instinct he reached out for them, he wanted to go home . But Kris pulled them back just before he grabbed them. They tutted and handed him the ring instead.
“It’s a gift.” They said as he examined the ring. It seems to be made of brass and was covered in jagged barbs pointing inwards. Even through the fog surrounding his head he could tell it’s enchanted with some sort of magic, definitely expensive too. He felt bad for the poor darkner made to sell this- It hurts just to look at. It’d be hard to get someone to buy.
“..A gift” He echoed, processing the implications. Why would they…
“And a promise.” Kris clarified as they stood up, they didn’t bother dusting themselves off. “I’m giving you another chance, Spamton. I wasn’t lying when I said you have potential. Other darkners, your brothers, might not see it. But I do.”
They smiled again, wider this time. “I want you to join me in sealing the dark fountain, Spamton. Join me, and show them your potential.”
What?
Spamton’s mouth hung agape. Kris was going to forgive him, Kris wanted his help to seal the fountain. It was an honor. It was his chance. To actually do something right, to impress them. To prove to his coworkers, to Kris, to his brothers that he’s worth something.
It was everything he could ever hope for.
Why was he so scared?
The answer to that was clear, the motionless programs lining the alleyways spelled it out for him. But Lightner’s are inherently good beings, darkners exist to just serve them. Kris said they’re only doing what’s necessary and they wouldn’t lie. They’d only do this if it was necessary.
“b- but why me-!? My attacks are glitched and broken.” He put a hand to his chest, his arm aches at the motion. “Hell, I’m glitched and broken! I—“
“Spamton, you said you were sorry.” Kris cut him off.
“I am..” He meekly defended, clutching the painful ring in his palm.
“Then put on the ring and stop doubting me. I know what I’m doing.”
Spamton nodded mutley, his heart was pounding in his chest. He held ring hovering over his finger where he was already missing patches of white fuzz from pulling. His hand was shaking.
“It’ll hurt…” He muttered.
“It’s worth it.” Kris said.
Spamton opened his mouth, then closed it. He needs to stop doubting them. This is his last chance. He has to do this. To make up for where he failed Kris, to prove his worth to his brothers, to live up to his potential.
He steeled himself and then in one jerky movement shoved the ring onto his finger.
Pain .
He slammed his free hand over his mouth to muffle his scream.
He was overwhelmed with agonizing, nauseating pain. Everything was spinning around him and he scrambled for purchase when something- Kris- grabbed his arm, preventing him from falling backwards.
Then slowly, the pain numbed. Everything softened around him as he took in short heavy breaths. His vision cleared to see Kris, they were smiling.
“Good job.” They said. They looked proud. That gave him a sense of relief, like he was doing something right.
Kris crouched again, this time offering a piggyback ride. It’d been a long time since he had one of those- not at the lack of his brothers offering. It was more of a pride thing for him. He was too old for piggybacks.
Spamton didn't argue though, accepting Kris’s help without a second thought. It was a bit of an awkward carry- kris is only so much taller than he is- but that was fine. There was no way he’d be able to walk on his own with his mutilated leg.
As they moved past the ambyu-lances body Spamton furrowed his eyebrows. There was something he wanted to ask. But thinking felt- difficult. It was hard. Like trying to hold water in his hands.
He craned his head to stare at the ambyu-lance qas they left. Their chest still isn’t moving. Something about that felt wrong.
He didn’t ask.