Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“And I swear, if he sends me a bouquet one more time, I’ll…I don’t know what I’ll do but it won’t be nice!” Toriel huffed, practically clawing at her wrists at this point while her arms were crossed. She was stepping back and forth in the midst of her vent session, staring off at everything and nothing, her mood getting more sour the more she went on with this particular topic.

“I used to love flowers. And now…they all smell stale, in a way? Like those home air fresheners. I don’t know how Asgore cultivates his plants, but there must be some shady stuff going on at the back of that flower shop.”

The man under the hood of Toriel’s car gave a single huff of a laugh, his arm reaching out to get the bigger screwdriver next to Toriel’s feet.

“He’s probably using the cheapest manure possible for fertilizer. Otherwise, there’s some magic kind of business going on!”

“And how’s Kris handling things, then?” Stanton asked, if only to make Toriel shut up about her ex. He finally got that one part of the pipe unlatched, and carefully removed it, instantly relieved that the rest of the pipe didn’t spew out something. “Or, let’s scratch that. How’s Kris doing, in general?”

Toriel sighed, “Sorry, I went on a mighty tangent there, didn’t I?”

“Well, rather you say it to me than any of your neighbors,” Stan laughed.

“Sure,” Toriel giggled along. “Kris is…oh, I think you know more about how human teenagers are.”

Stan frowned at that statement. He unrolled himself out from under the car hood, staring up at Toriel, “Meaning?”

“They…don’t talk much to me, anymore. Still doing the average in school, though Alphys has told me they’ve been snoozing off during class more and more.”

Stan huffed, “Yeah, I guess I can understand. You should consider yourself lucky, then, that they became the shut out teenager and not a rowdy one.”

Toriel smirked, “Were you a rowdy one, then?”

“Mam, was I ever!” Stan grinned, “Downright troublemaker!”

“Oh, I can imagine,” Toriel laughed.

And it seemed that this piece of information seemed to take Toriel out of her sour mood, as she straightened her posture a little and responded, “Oh, but enough about me! How are you? Still trying to fix that old Chevy?”

Stan huffed as he stood up, “Not trying to, am. Though old parts similar to her are hard to come by. Was in an auction war for an old radio that could’ve fit, recently. Lost by 2 dollars, five minutes before the close.”

“Ah, sorry about that, then,” Toriel chuckled.

Stan held the pipe up a little, “This needs to be buffed out, or maybe I’m gonna have to get a whole new part.”

“And how’s life? How’s the business treating you?”

“Mmm, you know…I’m making even, and then a little some,” Stan shrugged. Toriel smiled in her motherly way, “I’m glad you’re doing good again.”

Stanton instantly rubbed the back of his neck, even if his hands were dirty, just throwing a bashful grin back at the words of affirmation. It honestly had been a rough patch last year. Stan was so fucking glad the shop was pulling its weight again, at least for now. “Yeah, I manage.”

“Do you need me to pay extra if you need to get a whole new part?”

“Uh, yeah, probably? Your model has those weird jagged pipes that need to be custom-ordered.”

“Alright, I’ll keep that in mind, just in case!” Toriel clapped her hands together, finally getting them out of her death grip across her chest.

“Oh, but I’m sure I can still work with this one,” Stan held the pipe up again, smirking.

“I never doubted you for a second!”

“You gonna be alright walking to school for like…a week, at most?” Stan asked next.

“Absolutely! Kris is definitely going to complain but,” Toriel giggled again. Stan just laughed along.

Man, he actually missed the little critter, right about now.

“Oh, also!” Toriel piped up, “I heard you got rid of your TV, recently?”

Stan blinked, “Uh…yeah, the power IC finally fried, at least from what I could discern.”

“Well,” Toriel looked away, humming. “You could have my TV. It’s been unplugged for about…five months now, I believe. I doubt we’re gonna have use for it, anymore.”

Stan blinked, “That old CRT?”

“Well, I know you like to tinker with anything. You can fix it right up! I can even help, in any way I can?” Toriel shrugged.

Stan hummed, “I mean, if you’re being this kind to give me a free TV, then who am I to say no?”

Stan grinned and Toriel nodded, “Splendid! Are you free any time Saturday so you can come pick it up?”

“Yup!”

—

Stanton Gerard Stinton (honestly, screw his parents for giving him a first name similar to his surname like that; Stanton in itself was already a surname in his nationality, anyway) had moved to town ten years ago, now. He had wanted to get away from the big city, for reasons remaining undisclosed for anyone he now knew. And, honestly, what better change to have from the bustling city than a small town filled with only monsterkind, who were instantly a hundred times more accepting than the whole of humankind.

He instantly bought out the car repair shop at the outskirts of town with the last of his savings, and modified it to also include tech repair, as well, though those requests were few in between. Monsters were more inclined to throw out shit than work on it. But that was also because monsters kept on to old tech more, so by the time they fizzled out, even Stan couldn’t help to repair the old things.

The Dreemurr household had run to him the minute they heard there was an adult human in town, to ask for help with their human orphan they had found about about two years ago as a baby. Kris was three or four then, nobody knew to assess their real age, and neither did Stan. But he instantly agreed, since he was only starting the business back up from where it had been degraded to, and the Dreemurrs agreed to pay for his services. Stan helped every single way he could, from simple advice to full on babysitting gigs, until Kris was ten(?). That’s when the household finally started showing cracks from the picture perfect family they were. It was also the time December from the Holiday household went missing. The Dreemurs and Holidays were practically one single family by that point, until they weren’t. Stan honestly didn’t fully understand how the two were connected that intimately, but he sure loved the Holiday’s younger daughter, Noelle, joining along on Kris’ babysitting escapades every once in a while. The girl was a pure soul, damn anyone who dared to lay a single hand on her.

Kris was honestly ecstatic to have another human in the town of only monsters, as soon as they could process that fact. They practically begged every night to have Stan babysit (at least that’s what Toriel has told him). And, to be fair, Stanton was also glad to have another human in the mix of his new life, even if it was a toddler. Although Stan never thought of himself as a family man, having to take care of Kris was some of the most gleeful moments of his life.

Until it came to a rather abrupt close. Until Toriel said it would be best to let her sort through the mess Asgore made (her words) with their children on her own. Until Kris started to run away from home to the auto shop, practically wailing into his chest almost every time, though not talking about why they were crying like that. Until Noelle also started frequently visiting, claiming that her mother still wouldn’t give her her own set of house keys, for whatever reason. Until even that didn’t happen anymore, though Noelle still came by to at least say hello. Kris just…stopped coming entirely, at one point, probably around the time Asriel announced that he would be going to university. He honestly feared for the kid. But he knew Toriel was a good mother…and she was trying. He couldn’t pinpoint an exact perception of Asgore to this day, though. He knew the father was trying, though he was trying in all the wrong ways, at least from what Toriel kept telling him. Asgore had never been a client in the shop to this day.

So it transpired…and Stanton just rolled with the punches.

Stan drove to the Dreemurr house in his pickup-truck and rolled around at three pm on that Saturday he and Toriel agreed on.

He rang the doorbell, and Toriel opened the door a moment later, grinning, “Hello!”

“Hey!” Stan grinned back, being let inside. He instantly looked at the CRT on the shelf standing right at the living room space.

He had done research after being promised the TV. And indeed, it was a Magnavox. Didn’t even have to figure out the exact model to handle repairs, though the antennas were definitely gonna be a bitch to work around, since the newer Magnavoxes killed those silly antlers.

He instantly remembered all the memories of him and Kris sat on the couch, watching cartoons. Man, he missed The Powerpuff Girls. The reboot killed the franchise, honestly. He only had to watch one double episode feature to know that.

“Man, it’s still a beauty, though,” Stan whistled jokingly, walking closer to the box. Indeed, it was unplugged, the plug on the floor. It had gathered a mighty fine dust layer, probably hadn’t been wiped in a month. He touched the screen gently. It was all intact, though the rough feeling under his fingertips of the black screen, not having been plugged in for this long of a time, disturbed him a little.

“Kris, don’t just stand there, say hi!” Toriel suddenly spoke behind him, and Stan stopped leaning forward to the CRT and looked to the stairs at the back of the first floor. Kris was standing on the second step upwards, face unreadable, fists clenched slightly.

“Hey, kid,” Stan grinned, waving.

Kris stepped down and practically ran to their old babysitter, wrapping their arms around the other.

“Oh holy damn, how tall are you now?!” Stan laughed, reciprocating the hug. The kid sure had grown from the last time he’d seen them. He instantly knew they’d be towering over him as soon as the actual big growth spurt happened.

And he wasn’t particularly bothered by it, or by his stagnated 5’5 height. Nope. Not at all.

Kris let go and instantly looked at their mom, “Can I go with him? To help set up the TV?”

Toriel’s fur bristled a little, which made Stan raise an eyebrow. But she shrugged after, “Oh, I don’t see why not! But you also should come back after, Stan. I insist on treating you to a homemade dinner!”

“Mam, you’re quite literally spoiling me these days,” Stan grinned, nodding. Toriel just shook her head, laughing.

“Alright, Kris, hold the plug just in case. Oh, and get the remote.” Stan walked back towards the CRT. He picked it up with a little bit of strain, while Kris also got to action, picking up the plug and holding the wire up.

“We’ll be back before you know it, Tori!” Stan grinned as goodbye, as the two carried the TV to his car. Stan huffed, “Open the back door.”

Kris did, and the two set the TV down on the back cushion.

“Say, does it need a seatbelt?” Stan joked, smirking at Kris. Kris chuckled, “Sure. Make the TV feel like a baby.”

Spamton did put the seatbelt on, in the best possible way he could.

“Shotgun!” Kris exclaimed as they opened the passenger door.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, kid,” Stan chuckled along, walking around his truck to the driver's side.

“So…noticed your mother wasn’t too keen to have you come with me,” Stan decided to ask halfway through the drive, changing the radio station as well. He knew Kris still liked the old rock channel. Stan had been looping on that new hits station for quite some time, since the bouncy beats made him wake up in his morning drive-around tasks.

Kris sniffed, “She thinks I’ll contract some disease from your house now that I’m older. She recently read some book on human viruses and has been…pretty weird about it.”

Stan laughed, “Well, I assure you, my house is spick and span!”

Kris just smiled back, and then looked back out the window.

“Easy, boy,” Stan muttered as he lowered the CRT down on the table where his old TV used to be. It felt like a downgrade, that’s for sure, but Stan was honestly gonna have the time of his life trying to upgrade the bitch.

Holy shit, think about the RGB modifications!

“You want me to plug it in?” Kris asked, waving around the plug cord.

“Yeah, test drive first! Let’s see what this old cathode can do!”

Kris plugged it in and Stan got the remote to turn it on.

Grey screen of static. Stan huffed, tweaking the antennas.

Bingo. The coloring of the screen was instantly a little off.

“Wait, how many channels does this actually have?” Stan asked Kris.

Kris shrugged, “Like…thirty? I don’t know if all of them still pick up.”

Stan hummed, deciding to go channel surfing.

And then saw a channel that was restricted. “Oh, wow. Parental controls came into play at one point?”

Kris huffed, “Mom. Being mom.”

Stan laughed again, “Well, not in my house!”

He went to settings, and turned the parental controls off. And instantly put on the MTV channel, which was currently showing an episode of Catfish. Kris blinked, “What is that?”

Stan grinned, “It’s some reality bs about people being tricked online with pictures and when you meet the actual person, they’re ugly.”

Kris cringed, “And why would that even be show material?”

Stan shook his head, “MTV is trash these days. Honestly, Toriel could’ve unblocked it any day and nothing about protecting his sweet kids would have been lost.”

Kris instantly punched his shoulder. Stan just laughed.

“Okay, let’s do this, then,” Stan sighed in content, turning the TV off and going to unplug it.

“You want some snacks while I figure out the first repairs?” Stan turned to the kid.

Kris shrugged, “Do you have chocolate, so I can make choco milk?”

Stan nodded, “Some old syrup should be in a cupboard somewhere. Help yourself.”

Kris grinned and instantly walked away to the kitchen.

“Oh, but check the expiration date, just in case!” Stan shouted at the other.

“Yeah!”

Stan hummed, walking to his front door hallway and opening his huge closet side door, where all the tools were.

He got out the screwdriver toolbox and went back to the TV.

He unscrewed the back and took it off. “Fuck, you’re dusty,” Stan snickered. Did he even own a duster? And where the hell would it even be, if he did?

“Mmm,” Stan hummed, deciding to use tissues to wipe away the griminess for now. He walked to the couchside end table and got out pocket tissues.

He went back and dusted off most of the bullshit with considerable caution. He had no clue if something would just short-circuit on him instantly.

The main control grid did look a little frayed, the wires old and…grimy. Stan scrunched up his face as he touched one. Definitely needed some chemical cleaning on this.

He eyed the empty spaces next, thinking about where to jam in an HDMI port. He also kept looking at the insides, and back at the casing next to him, about how the space would work. Man, this was probably considered mutilation to CRT standards, what he wanted to do. He easily could’ve just used an adapter, but he felt compelled to do this, for some reason.

He needed to consult some back-end forums for this, that’s for sure.

Maybe even hook up a connection to the deep web again.

Kris came back with a cup of chocolate milk in hand, just sitting down on the couch and sipping their beverage.

Stan hummed, “You think this guy could establish a connection to an actual digibox?”

Kris frowned, “It can’t connect to the internet.”

“Nothing I can’t stack in,” Stan shrugged, “It has enough free space between the mainframe and the casing.”

Kris chuckled, “It’s almost like you’re making a…what was that book again?

Stan instantly knew what they were talking about, “Frankenstein’s monster?”

Kris snapped his finger and pointed at him with a grin.

“Yes, I am absolutely doing that.”

“Aw, my poor second babysitter,” Kris chuckled again.

Stan laughed, getting the case and screwing it back on.

“Maybe there’s some movies on before we get back to dinner. It’s still too early, ay?”

Kris nodded with a smile.

Stan turned the TV on and went to sit on the couch, humming as he channel surfed.

—

Six months and three days of nothing. He was counting.

Of darkness staring back at him every time he walked to the stage. The studio was dark.

No audience. No Toriel. No Kris. No Asriel.

He hadn’t seen Asgore around, anyway.

No Noelle. No December. No Rudy. No Carol.

No other visitors.

No Stanton.

Just void. 

Tenna sighed as he stared into it again today.

He was practically the only one who still looked every day, in hope of… something.

Only one of the Mikes ever came along with him, anymore. They kept alternating.

Today, it was the green pippins.

He knew all three of them just wore costumes. Though he couldn’t tell if they knew that he knew, at this point.

Tenna sighed, “Alright, let’s head back.”

“Sure thing, boss,” Battat nodded, taking his clip board off the sound table.

Tenna turned his back on the stage, ready to leave.

And then the lights suddenly came on.

Both Tenna and Battat froze in their respective spots.

Tenna’s screen flickered as…

As he was plugged in again.

“Oh!” Tenna gasped.

He…

This wasn’t home.

He turned back to the audience seats.

Him.

Stanton.

With Kris.

“Oh, wow. Parental controls came into play at one point?” he hadn’t heard the man’s voice in a long time. It… felt like he was raspier.

“OH!” Tenna instantly grew in size, having been just five feet before. “HE TOOK ME IN!”

Battat laughed, “It seems so.”

And then Tenna’s head glitched again, as his controls were modified.

“Oh,” Tenna stared ahead.

Battat checked something, “Yup, that was the parental controls.”

“You try,” he turned to his companion.

Battat laughed, “Boss, I don’t think-”

“Come on, Mike,” Tenna smiled, “Entertain me.”

“...” Battat looked away for a second, then turned back.

“...Fuck.”

No bleeps.

Tenna laughed, “Marvellous!”

And then the studio turned dark again.

Ah.

He felt his casing come undone.

Fingers against his mainframe.

“Oh, he’s cleaning your head,” Battat scribbled something down.

Tenna’s head was buzzing with the…indirect contact.

He’d…missed those fingers on him.

Damn.

No, wait, he could actually swear now.

Fuck.

He felt his body heat up as Stan dusted him off.

“Ooohkay, we need to get back now, then!” Tenna laughed, every single wire in his body on fire.

Battat tilted his head, “Uh, sure, but-”

The studio lights came back on.

“Maybe there’s some movies on before we get back to dinner. It’s still too early, ay?”

“Oh, nevermind! Mike! What’s the schedule?!” Tenna instantly shook himself out of his buzz, pointing at Battat menacingly.

Battat scrambled in his spot, flipping pages on his clipboard.

He found the right page, as he listed off movies currently showing.

Tenna grinned. Those could work nicely.

“Let’s go. Simple screening, getting back on track. Call the other Mikes and tell them of the development, so they can tell everyone else!” Tenna practically twirled around.

The show is back on! New season, baby!

Chapter Text

Just another week at the shop. Stan practically melted into his couch this Friday night, groaning. His hands still felt sticky over the motor oil that had spewed out of the Cattails’ family SUV.

He turned the TV on for background noise, deciding to have a power nap before anything else he had planned for tonight. Which was nothing in particular. Just going over his cable inventory, some checks and balances, calling Toriel to let her know her car was fixed.

He had gotten the old part modified on Tuesday. Affixed it back Wednesday. And then just…procrastinated over the call, basically. Though he was pretty focused(enamored with) on cleaning out Berdly’s old Gameboy, anyway. Only had to put that thing back together now. And even though he swore to himself a few years back that he would never work on weekends (after he had a burnout), this one job seemed nothing special he couldn’t take time away from lounging on his days off for. So he had taken it home with him today. The box was on the kitchen table.

“Mmm…nothing honestly makes me drone more than some old-fashioned staticky noise from a CRT,” he mumbled out loud.

Countless days in his teenage years, at his family home’s living room, just having the bright screen glaring at him during late evenings, lulling him to sleep while he was almost done with homework, with mindless reruns on Cartoon Network. He’d probably watched every episode of Ed, Edd n Eddy when he was a kid.

“Mm…what a godsend you are, honestly,” Stan chuckled to himself as he praised his new companion in the household, fixing the couch pillow under his head a little. He honestly hadn’t felt this calm in…years.

There really was something in old tech that just…made him content. Made him happy, even.

He put the remote down on the floor, sighing out in bliss. House MD was on.

He succumbed to sleep.

Tenna just admired the other falling asleep.

Back in the Dreemur’s household, in those late stages, he was always perturbed at whoever just sat in front of his screen, doing whatever else, not actually looking at him.

Not paying attention to him.

Yet, now. With Stanton.

He was half-paying attention, to be fair.

But to be known that Tenna’s presence made the other calm.

So calm that he could unwind.

Tenna knew he ran a repair shop. Or something of that kind. Had to have been a tasking job, to be fair.

So to know that Stan could just…let himself go of said job in front of him, practically humming out his breaths as he slept.

“We’re ready to cancel the Supernatural episode coming up, just in case,” Jongler said, their head tilting back and forth, obviously also pleased he could be made use of in this sort of way, at least.

“It’s fine. He won’t hear it, anyway,” Tenna chuckled, making his way to the sound stage.

He lowered the volume just a tad.

—

Berdly’s Gameboy was intact again. It turned on without a hitch. Stan grinned, thinking of getting it back to the bird kid with a gift of one of his old Pokemon versions he’d unconsciously snagged while moving out of the city. He didn’t have the console, it didn’t matter to him.

He decided to call Toriel next. Yes, it was out of business hours, but Toriel had always said to not hesitate to call whenever, even after his so-called business fizzled out with the Dreemurr household.

“Hello!” Toriel answered back.

“Your car’s done. Didn’t have to get a new part, so no additional payments are necessary.”

“Oh, wonderful! Can I pick it up tomorrow? Just so we can drive to school on Monday?”

“Yeah, sure,” Stan smiled, walking back to the living room. Jeopardy was on.

Always a mind-numbing thing to watch, even if it granted weird knowledge to surprise (or disturb) others with later.

One of the categories in this episode was “gaming consoles”. Oh, and now he was invested.

“What time works for you?” Stan asked.

“Some time after 1 pm?”

“I’ll be in the shop, then!”

“Oh, and how’s the TV treating you?” Toriel laughed.

Stan laughed back, “Right about now…pretty good. You know I have an adoration for old tech, so this box head is serving me well.”

“Glad to hear! Would you like to see Kris tomorrow, too?”

Stan’s smile faded, “Uh…if they want to, I guess.”

“Alright, see you tomorrow then!”

“Bye, Tori.”

He hung up, and instantly swore at the middle contestant, “Oh come on, the answer was obviously the Sega Dreamcast!”

The volume turned louder a little.

Meh. Obviously the old TV was malfunctioning a little.

He didn’t lower it on his own, just slanted back on the couch as he stared at the screen, grinning at the 500 dollar question about gaming consoles. That one sure was a throwback.

—

Halfway into his lounging on Saturday evening, Stan decided he should repay Toriel for the dinner. So he drove to the store at the last twenty minutes it would be closing and got his ingredients. The owner told him that someone private had actually bought the establishment. Nice. No corporate fuckery coming to town, then. Everyone already had too much drama with the pizza place.

Stan was not a particularly good cook, but he had figured out his own recipes for entertaining guests, over time. So he made some preparations on Sunday morning and then drove to the shop for the time Toriel said.

Toriel came in at 1:30, Kris in tow. Kris ran to hug him, again.

Damn, just two encounters of his old babysitter gig kid made him emotional.

“So, I thought I should repay you for the kindness you’ve extended to me this past week. So I am inviting you two to lunch at my place,” Stan grinned, patting Kris’ head.

Toriel grinned, “That sounds lovely! But you don’t have to extend favors or anything like that!”

“It’s no problem, considering everything you’ve done for me over the years.” Stan just quipped back, grinning more at Kris at his side than Toriel.

Stan stayed in the kitchen for the better part of an hour, cooking, while Kris and Toriel sat in the living room, the TV on as background noise, Kris having decided that this was the opportune moment to do their homework. They had driven the car back to their home and then come back, as Stan also drove his own truck to theirs, and then carpooled them to his house.

The three ate and shared stories at the kitchen table. Toriel kept embarrassing Kris over their newly acquired sleeping habits, while Kris just grumbled.

“Oh and not to mention that new girl! She’s been particularly crude with you, in general.” Toriel suddenly frowned, while Kris inched around their seat uncomfortably.

Stan blinked, “What, she’s bullying you or what?” he turned to Kris.

“No! Just…” Kris frowned. “I think she’s just…trying to get used to the new place.”

“Okay, but the second she throws hands at you, I’m busting into the school.”

Toriel laughed while Kris groaned, “Do not.”

Stan grinned, “You know I never make promises.”

“It’s all fine!” Kris sneered as their body practically jolted to glare at Stanton. Damn, those bangs needed to be taken care of.

Unless they wanted to become an emo stereotype.

Stan snorted, “On sight.”

“Even you are embarrassing, now,” Kris huffed, rubbing his face.

“Oh, I knew from the get-go that I would become the weird crazy uncle to you one day. No shame here,” Stan was in glee as Toriel giggled at the joke.

“I just hope you don’t become strangers again after this gig,” Stan hugged Toriel. Toriel chuckled, her head right over his head, “I’m sorry. It’s been a busy year.”

“Yeah, I know,” Stan sighed as the two recoiled, smiling at each other in familiarity.

“And you too, Kris,” he pointed accusingly at the teen, “you better know you’re welcome to bother me anytime.”

Kris smiled and nodded, also giving the other a hug.

The two went into their home, and Stan drove back to his abode.

“Man, that just felt like old times, ay, CRT?” Stan laughed, staring at the TV the second he entered his living room.

Honestly, it was weird that he instantly decided to have the television box as an imaginary companion to talk to. Before, it had been the coffee machine.

But to be fair, this TV literally was a piece from the Dreemurrs, handed down to him. So he felt a connection with it.

He turned it on, grinning, “You better have some horror special for me, tonight. Feeling like watching old cringy slashers.”

He switched the channel.

And it switched thirteen channels forward.

Stan froze on the couch. Huh?

But the channel it was now on was showing Friday the 13th part VI: Jason Lives.

And in the back of his mind, he knew he had to fix that malfunction, be it the remote itself or the mainframe, but for now, he grinned, “Fuck yes!”

He ran to the kitchen as the commercials came on, and poured himself a glass of Sprite and finally got that months old chips bag out from the back of his junk food cupboard.

He walked back, practically giddy, munching on the chips, eyes fully set on the slightly small screen. It didn’t matter. Old movies like this were meant to be watched like this, anyway.

“This is my second favorite from the series, by the way,” Stan giggled at one point. Tenna just sighed in adoration, instantly saving the knowledge into his memory.

This whole week, the other had taken a liking to…talking to Tenna. As if he knew.

But of course, he didn’t know.

It felt special, nonetheless.

Stanton had never really talked about himself in front of the TV, when Tenna was with the Dreemurrs, obviously too preoccupied with Kris. Ah, Kris.

They used to be such a talkative child. Such a creative soul.

Guess those teenage years really did change everything. Or, the divorce. When they were watching today, they had literally said nothing, even as they were more watching him than doing the homework.

It left Tenna a little perturbed.

He’d only been unplugged for six months, but something had to have happened for Kris to be this…monotone. Right?

Their face was…blank. They weren’t even smiling at him.

But Stan was now, all eyes on him.

This was honestly the first time he’d actually felt full attention from the other on him. Back then, he’d been more busy with keeping an eye on Kris than committing to him.

It felt so satisfying.

He already felt sadness at the back of his external pins that this was only one slasher movie. That he couldn’t continue to please Stanton more with a full marathon of the movies coming up.

The ending credits rolled, and Stan grinned, downing the rest of his beverage. “Thank you.”

“You’re most welcome,” Tenna sighed.

And then he was shut off.

And he felt incredibly alone.

Stanton was the second viewer of his…lifetime that he wanted to interact with. To let him know he was…sentient.

The first was Kris.

Even though Toriel was literally his owner, he had never felt a particular need to let her know that he was real.

But those times with Kris. When they would turn him on, putting the volume at the loudest they could muster before it hurt their own ears. Just to have noise that would drown out the parents’ fight.

Oh, that poor kid. He wanted nothing more than to hug them.

He also wanted to hug Stanton.

But for completely different reasons.

Tenna’s screen rainbowed as he thought about it, again.

Fuck.

He was so enamored with that human, it was embarrassing.

He finally walked off the stage, the wires at his chest, in particular, vibrating.

He had no idea what was waiting tomorrow. Because Stan didn’t have a strict schedule of watching shows. He just turned on the TV whenever.

And, oh, what a wonderful thought.

He had had to fumble his way all through the week.

But it was…riveting, in a sense.

To know there was no schedule.

That he could put on whatever.

That he could…have freedom in his program.

Tenna smiled as he shut the door to his private room, ready to sleep and wake tomorrow with no idea what he was supposed to do.

Chapter Text

It was now two months since Stan had gotten the CRT.

He had cleaned its insides to pristine, and also attached the bootleg digibox, practically dismantling the antennas and then putting them back together to have the same signal as a LAN port. He could watch Netflix now.

Not that he was the series binging sort of guy. The only series he was going through on Netflix right now was The Office. Mostly as background noise, as he seemed to keep bringing work back home with him now. Just small appliances, whatnot. Easy to tinker with in the late evenings, as he sat on the couch in his living room, instead of doomscrolling on his computer in his bedroom.

Nothing else much had happened since he had that lunch with the Dreemurs.

Well, he did read Noelle’s web journal, about how Kris and Susie had had a big confrontation. Though it seemed that Kris held their own at it, so no reason to stomp into the school and have a lecture with the reptilian monster.

Also, poor Noelle. Getting a crush on such a volatile girl.

He could only hope that Susie was just posturing still, and was a little more soft once you got to know her.

It was a Thursday, as Stan entered his door, deciding to give a cheesy quip this time, “Honey, I’m home!”

He chuckled as he walked into the living room, looking at the TV. He turned it on instantly.

“Welcome home, sweetheart!” The channel it was on was showing some obscure romance movie. Maybe some Hallmark bs.

Stan sighed, deciding not to dwell on the fact that the first response coming out of the CRT was basically a reply to him, as he walked to the kitchen, ready to make dinner.

Just reheating his leftovers of macaroni and minced meat he had made a big portion of on Tuesday.

He walked back to the living room, ready to channel surf, when there was a knock at his door.

Oh hell, who was it this time?

That one grumpy ghost monster who he was spending eternity (his words, not Stan’s) on fixing his computer? Carol, just checking up, while also subtly mentioning the debt he still owed to the office? Undyne, coming to hit him with some obscure violation again?

He went and opened the door.

Oh.

“Hey, Noelle,” Stan sighed instantly, frowning. “What happened this time?”

Noelle practically tweaked out at his front door, looking away. “H-hi, Stan. Uh…well, I mean, it’s not a key problem!”

“Then why?” Stan leaned against his doorframe.

“I…” Noelle laughed a little, then practically deflated. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for. You know you can come by anytime shit’s hitting the fan.”

Noelle’s antlers twitched at the language used. But she didn’t say anything about it.

“It’s…I just…don’t wanna be home right now.”

“Then come in,” Stan smiled, getting away from the door.

Noelle walked in, taking off her shoes, “I’m so sorry, again!”

“And again, nothing to apologise for.”

Noelle followed the other into the living room dejectedly, as her eyes instantly turned on the TV.

“Oh. You…have Kris’ TV, now?”

“Yup!” Stan decided to walk to the box, patting its top. “Toriel gave it to me, since it had been unplugged for like, six months, anyway. And I instantly broke it apart just to have streaming stuff.”

“Oh!” Noelle grinned, her mind probably taken away from her own problems. “Do you have HBO?”

Stan huffed, “Yup. Only subscribed to finally watch Game of Thrones. Everything else is shit on it.”

Noelle giggled, “What about The Last of Us?”

“Eh, never played the games so don’t care that much,” Stan took the remote, switching over to Netflix. “Now, what kind of comedy can we watch to make you feel better?”

“Uh…do they have that one Sandra Bullock movie where she’s an undercover cop?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Stan laughed, typing Sandra Bullock into the search.

“Yes, that! Miss Congeniality!”

Stan put the movie on, “Have you eaten?”

“Yeah…”

“I can get some trail mix, just in case.”

“No need to!”

Noelle was sat down on the carpet in front of the sofa, staring at the movie with a smile. Stan had pulled out one of his fancy glass bowls to put the trail mix in, and also made tea.

Noelle was only sipping on the tea.

Stan hated to ask, but curiosity got the best of him. “So what happened, kid?”

Noelle instantly jolted in her place, looking up at the human, as Stan was planted on the couch.

“I…” Noelle looked away as soon as her eyes had landed on the other. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that, for fucks sake!” Stan laughed.

Noelle kept quiet for about a minute, probably debating in her head whether she should tell the other or not.

“So…the new finance department elections are coming up,” she finally spoke up timidly. Stan instantly frowned.

Ah.

Fucking Carol.

“And mom has been…stressed over it. And just…a little unbearable. But today, she…” Noelle instantly teared up.

“I can’t say it,” she sobbed, “But I…had to get away.”

“Can I hug you?” Stan lowered down from the seat of the couch to the floor, onto the carpet.

Noelle hugged the other herself, instantly sobbing into his shoulder.

Fucking Carol, Stan thought again. He just hugged her through it.

“You know she loves you,” Stan sighed, rubbing between her antlers.

Noelle nodded against his chest.

“It’s just a rough time for her, at the office. You gals are gonna get through it.”

“Yeah,” Noelle whimpered.

“It’s gonna be okay, Noelle,” Stan frowned despite himself, just hugging the girl tighter.

“I’m so sorry you have to deal with my problems,” Noelle whimpered out.

“Ssshhhh, it’s fine,” Stan just stared at the movie on the TV screen as he let the other get through her breakdown.

And then the TV malfunctioned again, as it got out of Netflix and pulled up VH1.

“Everything’s gonna be alright~.” the song soothed Noelle as she stopped shaking.

Fuck, at least the TV knew where to malfunction.

What song even was that, though?

Whatever it was, made both Noelle and Stanton calm down. Stan sighed, “Feeling better?”

“A little, yeah.”

Noelle pulled back, instantly laughing as she wiped the tears from her face. “It’s late. I should…I should go back home.”

Stan walked the other to the hallway, “I can drive you back.”

“No. That would just…freak mom out more. If she knew who I ran to.”

Stan inhaled, nodding. “Okay. Get back safe.”

Stan walked back to the TV, exhaling heavily as he planted himself back on the couch, “Man. Fuck Carol.”

The TV was still on the music channel. It glitched out, as a different song came on from the one it was showing before. It switched back to the same song from before, rewinding from the live feed. Definitely the digibox screeching out its displease at being connected to such old tech.

Stan chuckled. “I sure hope it will, cathode.”

—

During the next week, Stan finally met Kris’ new homeroom teacher. Alphys was a ball of anxiety, though she sure was fascinated by him, another human in town.

“Oh, I used to babysit Kris when they were still a kid,” Stan shrugged. The two were at the convenience store, Alphys having decided to help him with the non-milk products, as he had his extended family coming over next week, and he knew Rory was lactose intolerant.

Alphys grinned at the knowledge, “Cool!”

Stan nodded, looking away.

“I…sorry, I have to ask. Were they always this…lethargic?”

Stan blinked, “No, not particularly. It’s a recent development, I guess.”

“Okay,” Alphys laughed more to herself, as she also looked away. “I…I got worried about them, over that.”

“Well, to be fair, now that they’re a whole teen, I haven’t actually been over for a while, but… it’s definitely a human thing, trust me. They’re just staying up too late.”

Alphys nodded, “Well, thank you for the encouraging words.”

Stan huffed, “Sure.”

The old owner was still at the stand. “When’s the new owner coming in, anyway?”

“Oh, something about not getting their house sold where they live currently. They’re still paying forth rent though.”

“I’m…worried for Kris, Cathode,” he spoke to the TV.

“I mean…” he chuckled, “not that I wasn’t constantly worried ever since I stopped babysitting but… but I ran into their new homeroom teacher today. And…it’s fucking concerning.”

Stan frowned, “Fuck, why am I even so pressed about this? I was just the babysitter, for a time. I shouldn’t even…have any lingering feelings.”

Stan slumped against the couch cushions. “God, my TV is just gonna have more psychic trauma, at this point.”

Tenna frowned.

He already had trauma, anyway.

But to know that Stan trusted him enough to dump his own trauma on him. To make him more traumatised.

It was unsettling, yet validating at the same time.

This human.

“I’m sorry,” Stan chuckled. “I just…since you also were at the Dreemurr household.”

Tenna’s rewired antennas twitched. Oh.

 “I know you’re not sentient. But if you were, you would understand.” Stan sighed.

And Tenna did understand. Much more than Stan did.

—

“Holy shit, what have you done to this old CRT?” Clint instantly laughed as he eyed the multitudes of wires coming out from behind the TV box, all interconnecting at one point into one plug.

Stan grinned, “Actually fixed an HDMI into it. Got a digibox. Internet. The usual torment.”

Virgil whistled, “Guessing the work at the shop is not doing much to feed your boredom.”

Stan shrugged, “I mean, at least monsters go out of their way to pay more than enough.”

Clint turned the TV on. “Damn, this brings back memories of having to see the wonder that is Lord of The Rings on a small out of color screen.”

“I gotta make the last of the dinner, so yeah, you guys can channel surf.” Stan retreated to the kitchen.

“How’s the pipes here? I want water,” Rory asked.

“Well, the sink water is pretty clean, but I got bottled water, just in case you started complaining.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault America is literally poisoning its people!” Rory exclaimed, walking behind Stan to the kitchen. Stan just rolled his eyes, getting a bottle out from the fridge and throwing it to his second eldest cousin.

Rory opened the cap and drank, sighing out afterwards. “So.”

Stan blinked, “So?”

“So you’re…actually doing good here.”

Stan instantly frowned, looking away. He knew where this was going. “Yeah. More or less.”

“Sorry, just…I know it’s been, what? Ten years already? But…you know, we all…still worry, sometimes. Especially with the stunt you pulled last year.”

Stan sniffed, “I’m clean, if that’s what you’re implying. You know, besides alcohol and the occasional nicotine binge.”

Rory nodded, smiling, “And I’m happy that you’re good.”

Stan just smiled back as Rory didn’t say or make a move to hug him, just walking back to the living room. Stan sighed, getting out the premade sauce mix from the fridge.

Dinner with the extended Stinton cousins went uneventful enough. Everyone was more adamant on babbling to Stan about things he’s been missing since…being outcast from any sort of gatherings.

He didn’t miss the drama one bit. Stan laughed for about two minutes about the storytime of last year’s Christmas, where there were two hospitalisations and one screaming toddler. Fucking hell.

Monster drama was more chill, anyway. 

“It’s kinda weird, though,” Adam hummed quietly, once Stan had also said that out loud.

“What is?” Stan also quieted down.

Clint instantly sneered, “Don’t-”

“How you’re…like, here and yet…not? I mean…” Adam frowned, “You own the mechanic shop on the outskirts of town. And your house is also somewhere along those lines.”

“Stop,” Virgil spoke up, gritting his teeth.

“No, let him talk. Where you getting with this?” Stan frowned, staring at Adam.

Adam smiled awkwardly, “You…are you actually welcome here?”

“Oh, that was the worst way you could’ve said it!” Rory instantly laughed, putting down his cup since he was just about to drink. The cup spilled a little on the living room coffee table.

Since Stan only had two chairs to his name in the whole house, one of which was his damn computer rolling chair, the gang had decided to situate themselves on the couch, or around it. Only the chair from the kitchen was brought.

Stan just smirked, “What, so eager to have me come back?”

Adam inhaled, and the other three looked at Stanton in awe.

Stan huffed, “I see right through you, Bubbles. What you’re hinting at.”

He drank his water.

“As if I’d come back when only one person wants me to come back.”

Virgil and Clint instantly berated the other over the claim, while Rory shrunk into the carpet where he was sitting.

“Ay, fuck you mean by that?!”

“He’s not the only one!”

Stan had an unamused look as he gave a glance at Clint, then Virgil, then Rory. “So three, then.”

Rory frowned, “I’m just…” he sighed in resignation. “No, you’re right. I don’t want you to come back, either.”

Stan smiled bitterly.

“But not for the reason you’re thinking.”

“Then what?”

Rory bit the inside of his cheek, or at least that was what it seemed like from the mouth movements. “If you come back, I worry you’re…gonna relapse again.”

Stan’s smile was lost, and he just blinked blankly.

“Wait, that’s actually worse than whatever the fuck Adam was trying to hint at just now,” Clint snickered.

“Because sure, you were the black sheep of the extended family, whatever. But…we actually have too many black sheep to count,” Rory sneered at Clint.

Clint just grinned, “I’m like, five shades away from being the new black sheep, excuse you.”

“For fuck’s sake, I’m so sorry, Stan,” Virgil groaned, hiding his face in his hands. “This is all so stupid.”

And Stan did understand what Rory was talking about. Hell, he had heard it just today.

They ostracized him to hell and back, while hiding their own sins.

Stan was the only one brave enough to wear those sins on his skin with pride.

Yet, his skin was crawling right about now, thinking over it all.

Stan exhaled heavily, “Look, it’s…fine. I know they’re all still talking about me. Don’t care, honestly.”

Adam’s frown went wider, “Really?”

Stan huffed, and then practically hissed out, “Drop it.”

Adam’s mouth clamped shut and the other three also sneered awkwardly.

Stan took another sip from his glass. “I need a smoke.”

“I’ll join you, I guess,” Clint sighed, standing up as well.

The silence now was so thick you could cut it.

“Also, don’t let Bubbles fool you,” Clint smirked once halfway done with his cigarette.

Stan just looked at him next to him on his porch, exhaling his own cancer stick.

“The only reason A is so adamant about reconnecting you is so his own sins won’t get exposed.”

Stan raised an eyebrow, “Pray tell?”

Clint huffed, looking away, “Not that I know all of it, but…he has just recently started thinking that bringing you back to the loving grace of the family will somehow absolve him of his own wrongdoings a little.”

Stan hummed, “Well…he’s a fucking idiot, then.”

“No doubt about it.”

Both chuckled, taking their drags.

“You guys retraumatised my TV today, by the way,” Stan joked as the guests were ready to roll into bed. They had done competitive games to assign the positions, because Stan was dead set on making at least one of them sleep in his room and he was more than happy to take the couch or something.

So now Stan was assigned the blowup mattress in front of the TV. Rory and Virgil got the pull-up couch, Clint and Adam had to bunker up on his queen-sized bed. He could only hope those two didn’t end up fighting and thrashing his room in the middle of the night.

“...Retraumatised?” Virgil squinted his eyes.

Stan hit the top of his TV gently, “This bad boy is actually a hand-me-down. From the Dreemurrs. You know, my babysitting gig. That basically went AWOL.”

There was a moment of silence. Before Clint began laughing, Rory snorted and Virgil sighed. Adam just frowned a little, like always.

“Wait, so they actually got divorced?” Rory asked.

Stan blinked, “Oh, shit yeah, I haven’t been keeping up with you guys lately! Yeah, they hella divorced. Asgore is basically scorched earth to Tori.”

“Yeesh,” Clint chuckled. 

“Sorry, CRT,” Stan whispered into the night, knowing that the others were dead asleep. Virgil was almost snoring, taking those sharp breaths.

Stan felt compelled to raise his hand to the TV. To give it some sort of…reassurance.

It was still buzzing a little as he touched the screen. He smiled, “Good night.”

He nuzzled into his duvet, sighing, letting sleep take him.

Tenna mumbled a good night back, finally untensing, in a sense.

This day…had been informative.

Stanton wasn’t from America.

He was kicked out of the family.

Only four cousins still held contact with him. Yet, they were all a little bit awkward around it.

When his lightner body had been turned off, a lot of the crew began cleaning up. The only one who stayed was Jongler, in the end, until he, too, left Tenna to mull over…the lore drop. His words, not Tenna’s.

Stanton needed to stop watching all those theory videos on YouTube. It was doing irreversible damage to his crew’s language.

Tenna sighed, standing up.

Stanton sure was more of an enigma than ever, right now.

Because those implications…of his past he’d heard today.

A black sheep?

He simply recalled the conversation the three had when Stan and Clint had gone out to smoke.

“Adam, what the fuck?!” Rory practically hissed.

“I’m sorry, okay?” Adam shrunk into himself, hugging himself.

Virgil just snorted, “I should also extend, then, Rory, what the fuck?”

Rory sneered, “I know you all are all thinking of it constantly, too. I was just stupid enough to say it.”

Virgil sighed, “I mean…yeah.”

Adam licked his lips, “I just…I just want him back. Like, fully.”

Virgil patted Adam on the back, “But is it gonna do any good to him?”

Rory stared at Tenna in particular, as he replied, “He should never come back, Adam. You know that.”

Adam sneered, “Fuck, I know, I know!”

The blue-shirted human finally hid his hands inside his bent knees, groaning. “I’m sorry, guys.”

Virgil just kept patting him. “We know you tried to mean well.”

Rory huffed, “In your own selfish way.”

Virgil instantly snapped to the one with pink highlights in his hair, “Rory! Can we just drop it?!”

Rory looked away.

“I really don’t want to fight. Especially since this is the first time we’ve seen Stan after the…”

Virgil groaned himself, now, “Damnit.”

He recoiled from Adam, just sitting, frowning.

Nobody said anything else, until Clint and Stan came back, instantly deciding to ridicule the hell out the three brooding specimens at Stan’s living room. Trying to lighten the mood that way.

Tenna could only speculate.

But… he always knew Stanton was more than he was showing. That he was projecting.

Tenna hummed again in frustration as he turned a corner, making his way to his room.

Chapter Text

It had been four months since Tenna was relocated to Stanton’s house. He had never felt more alright and yet not quite right at the same time.

The upgrades Stanton had given him empowered him, yet made him feel lethargic at times.

Hell, his antennas being tweaked like that had him out of commission for three days.

His CRT head looked the same, but the inside of it felt…cluttered, in a sense. At least that one installed cooling fan helped him not overheat constantly. Though he did when everything was first imbedded, as he had practically heaved by the end of the night, as the arena turned off, for about two weeks. He’d gotten the hang of it now, and Tenna was at least 70 percent proficient with the digibox controls, not overheating unless Stan really went into those long nights, watching until 3 am. So on weekends. He was slowly getting the hang of that, as well.

He was still struggling with the streaming services, though. Those still threw him for a loop every time he tried…something. He could only switch out of them, but not manipulate them. He really wished to cut through the slog that was Game of Thrones, especially now that Stan was at season 6.

His body also upgraded along with the manifestation of his CRT head in the light world. He felt…buffer. His wires didn’t get twisted that much anymore. He needed less maintenance than before (or, well, just compared to the two months before he got unplugged at the Dreemurr household). The RCA cables at his left forearm were brighter in color, almost neon, and he could pull them out with no pain, using them just to point at cues, props, whatever, now. His metal-silicone skin was not fully elastic anymore. Almost like it was armor now.

His plug tail had been distorted to multitudes of wires until it twisted back into one, his old plug still in tact. (Stanton had fixed his neutral pin straight again) He could elongate it at will. His current record was a hundred feet.

He could now size up to 35 feet, though that had only happened once. He had almost broken the ceiling of the stage when it happened. But just that moment…Stan had kissed the top of his head, wasted out of his mind. Tenna had turned on a rerun of the old The Powerpuff Girls just to amuse the man in his drunk state, and Stanton had practically giggled, standing up and stumbling to where his lightner body was, planting his lips on the top of his box. “Such a fucking godsend.” Tenna hadn’t even known he loved that show that much. Now he wanted to pull up the Netflix stream of it every time he felt that Stanton wasn’t paying attention to him. But he couldn’t.

Yet.

He was so determined to work it out.

He wanted to be perfect for him.

To switch at his moods at ease. He could easily do it when he only had analog. But now, with all the LAN stuff, there were so many possibilities that he kept fumbling.

Hell, he had pulled up a YouTube Poop video at one point, Stanton still laughing but obviously disturbed, as he shut him off right after.

Enough about him, the studio! It kept the same old cheesy glam style he loved, but there were many new doors, new rooms. He could only be elated that his empire was expanding. Though, he wished some of them stayed only opened for one time and then never looked back upon again. (Hostel. Yikes, what a movie franchise. Whatever else weird stuff he watched was just added to that room, now being dubbed the Horror room, and it never changed from essentially being an SM backdoor.)

His favorite new room was the YT video essay one, as it brought so much knowledge to him of the light world. Battat was also a huge fan of it.

The green room was the same, but it seemed to fluctuate its light by what Stanton watched. The annual midsummer celebration this year had never been that brightly lit. Flowers seemed to grow out from the linoleum floor. It was perfect.

Tenna’s own private room was also upgraded to hell and back. He had four screens of surveillance now, when it had only been one to flicker through. His bed was extra soft and always warm or cold however he wanted it. The couch was almost velvet material. His vanity stand held makeup now. He’d only dabbled at it once, when it had been two days without being turned on. And he honestly didn’t know if Stan was just happy in general, or if his own reflection was brighter. The human just watched all the same, content.

The wasteland outside the studio was actually melting, little by little. Tenna honestly couldn’t even begin to comprehend what that meant, because it had always been a winter wonderland before, but now with Stan it was going away? He didn’t want to make any judgments. The biggest theory going on right now between the crew was that Stan just liked spring the most.

His crew was switched a little, and also expanded. He actually missed Ramb, right about now. Hm.

The Pippins had stayed the same lookswise, but everyone knew they were…not the same ones from the Dreemurrs’ house. These guys actually knew how to play dirty games. Tenna had to…assert himself, just two weeks in. They had only backed off from him, but everyone else was fair game. At least, everything was calming down at this point, and nobody let themselves be played fool to Stanton’s dice darkners. Also, everyone kind of assumed that Kris had smuggled Battat in on that first day of being relocated.

The Zappers brightened in their colour pallette. Stanton had modified the remote by now, as well, dismantling it and replacing buttons. Jongler’s work effort as a Mike tripled.

The Shadowguys started experimenting, becoming fascinated with dark jazz. It made their concerts a little bit more eerie, but nobody was complaining. Some of them even spoke in electric guitar chords now. Stanton was keen on 80’s-90’s metal. 

Since Tenna had practically invaded this new world, his studio was just…towering over the auto shop looking building Stan’s house had before as a hub. He’d been in there many times, now. Most of them were not particularly comfortable with switching to employment at the TV studio. Understandable, honestly.

New cast did include, however:

• Connor. Stanton’s tool closet. The guy figured he’d be doing more good inside the studio, since the human had been working on Tenna proficiently, until he figured him fit, and Connor still stayed, if only for the drama. Whatever that meant. He was now the main mechanic for Tenna, when his darkner self was having blips. Otherwise, not much of a big personality. Just watched along the sidelines.
• Philip. Phils for nickname, given by Battat. Stanton’s computer monitor (probably did include the PC case in his manifestation, even if the guy looked more like a monitor than anything else). Figured that the two main tech builds in the household might as well work together, to ensure full satisfaction for Stan. Probably a little bit jealous of Tenna at this point, because Stan wasn’t spending much time in his room anymore. (Hah. Suck it. TV still prevails!)
• Espression. Stanton’s coffee machine. A small, petite, incredibly feisty woman. She was the first one to switch over, and instantly began gossiping about the human. So essentially, the only personal choice of switching over. She mostly hung around the Mikes. (Only recently has she been trying to…rile Tenna up? With all the stories about how Stanton is actually unhinged.) (She probably figured Tenna’s feelings out.)

The days moved on. And Tenna just rolled with all the punches the upgrades gave him, what they gave his studio, almost feeling like a true king again of a dark world the more he got adjusted to them, pleasing his new lightner audience of one. And occasional visitors.

This honestly wasn’t good for his superiority complex. But he didn’t care much, at this point.

Because this audience of one felt like just when he’d first been unboxed. When the Dreemurrs practically had him on from 7 am to 9 pm. It was riveting.

It was terrifying.

Stan was still so chaotic about what he wanted to watch.

All of the crew was still adjusting, as well. To switch the mood at will. To cut to something random. To abandon the script and go haywire.

And Tenna certainly felt the most pressured about the chaos of it all. But he just steeled himself, even if he still made mistakes sometimes.

But he just focused on those gorgeous gray-green eyes of the human and kept broadcasting. He’d committed those eyes to his screen at this point, always having a little burn in when he was turned off, yet it always faded. Probably the upgrades doing their magic. (Stanton’s left iris was a little more grey, with those swirls of green dancing their way around it. The right iris was always that same faded green, spots of grey.)

Angel, what a unique human.

Tenna could actually admit it to himself, now.

He was in love.

—

This was getting kind of ridiculous, at this point.

Stanton sneered as he turned to the TV on this Thursday evening, muttering, “Hey.”

“Hello!”

Yup.

His TV was definitely talking back to him.

He hadn’t been that invested in the malfunctions before. He had just thought them as simple glitches screaming against his upgrades.

But it was too weird to ignore at this point. After a month of doing the last fix.

And the CRT box still kept blipping out.

Especially considering that it kept blipping out to soothe Stanton’s own moods.

Something wasn’t right, here.

This week, in particular, he’d been mulling over it at the shop. He hadn’t made any progress on the police vehicle, either.

Well, whatever. The town hall can pay for their extended bill, anyway.

Stanton focused back on the TV, which was showing some kind of romance comedy on channel 20.

Stanton inhaled through his nose around his sneer. He put the remote down on the coffee table, putting his hands under his jaw as he leaned his elbows against said table. “Switch.”

Tenna instantly froze in his stance on the stage.

…What?

Stan wanted him to switch the channel on his own?

He…

He was starting to acknowledge him, wasn’t he?

So he accepted the challenge, switching to channel 18.

The TV switched to Cartoon Network. Total Drama Action was on. “It's about time someone realized who's the most valuable player here. I mean, seriously, people.”

Stanton huffed at the confessional. What was that girl’s name again, Heather? The mean girl?

“Switch again.”

Tenna frowned.

Stan was testing him, then.

He switched again.

The TV channel switched to CBS.

“Are we actually going through with this?”

Stan inhaled intensely again.

“Fuck. You’re sentient.”

Tenna inhaled, as well.

“I am, what about it?!” Tenna seemed to tense up, shouting back at the (gorgeous) human watching him.

“Uh, Tens, I don’t think he should-”

“Shut it, Connor, I don’t wanna hear it right now!” he waved at Stanton’s respective tool closet. Connor just inched back, Pluey patting him on the back in some sort of reassurance, as he trilled out a chord.

“Still, though! He…The lightners should never know we’re actual beings! He’s ruining everything!”

Stan hummed. “So what are you, exactly? A random ghost? A deity? A demon?”

He gritted his teeth, waiting for the TV to respond back.

Oh.

Stan thought his TV was just possessed.

He was a religious man, after all.

Even though Tenna still hadn’t gathered the know-all around the humans’ respective religions.

He knew Stan was at least Christian.

But then there were all the sub-conversions.

And he hadn't figured out what Stanton prayed to.

He licked his lips.

“I’m not a demon, at least!”

Stanton grinned maliciously as the channel switched again.

It turned to a Supernatural episode, where one of the characters was trying to plead that they weren’t a demon.

Okay.

Tricks.

“Which means you are some sort of hell-sent being.”

Stan snickered.

He could probably write a book about this.

“I AM NOT!” Tenna screeched, practically the whole stage shaking over his shout.

“He’s honestly trying to rile you up, at this point,” Espression sighed out, “Don’t let him ragebait you.”

Tenna laughed, “What does ragebait even mean?”

Battat instantly fumbled around his clipboard, but then Phils recited, “”In internet slang, rage-baiting is the manipulative tactic of eliciting outrage with the goal of increasing internet traffic, online engagement, revenue and support.” Wikipedia: last checked 09.08.20xx”

Tenna laughed again, “So I should fall back?”

“Yes!” Elnina sneered, even if she didn’t understand the concept being handled around right now. “You can’t expose us like this!”

Tenna just stood around, tense, for about a minute

And then deflated, sighing, “Damn it. I’m sorry, everyone.”

Stanton just stared as the CRT box kept to CW.

He huffed, “Scared you, didn’t I?”

Stan bit his lower lip.

Shit, Tenna loved when the other bit his lips.

“Okay, well…” Stanton thought it over.

“That just means you’re not malicious…right?”

The human finally deflated into the couch, groaning.

Fuck, he was probably having some sort of manic breakdown, anyway.

Trying to confirm his teenage years-imbedded religious paranoia like this.

When his TV was just old, and suffering.

He sniffed, picking up the remote.

But he still felt like proving himself, as he practically whispered out, “Switch to ID.”

Tenna gritted his teeth.

“Don’t switch to it,” one of the Pippins sneered.

Tenna honestly fought every single wire in his body not to.

But his feel for validation still prevailed, as he switched to Investigation Discovery.

“Tenna, you damn simp!” Phillip practically giggled.

Stanton exhaled, grinning almost maliciously.

“Good CRT,” he licked his lips, right over that previous bite, as he leaned back against the couch back, just deciding to watch whatever episode of Disappeared was showing, as he picked up his phone, messaging Napstablook back after ghosting them for three days.

Tenna instantly heaved at the…slightly demeaning yet praising reply. His head spiked to 170 F.

“Okay, we need to get him out,” Connor laughed.

Tenna didn’t even fight back, as a multitude of his employees came to drag him to probably his room.

“Mike can handle this, for now. You just need to rest, after that chaos," Lanino chuckled at his shoulder.

Tenna just hummed, letting himself be dragged.

—

Stanton woke up in the middle of the night, 2 am, as he checked his phone.

Fucking hell. This was gonna haunt him for at least two weeks, wasn’t it?

No matter that the TV didn’t seem to…harbor malicious intent.

He’d be dead by now if it was something like that.

No, the CRT just kept fumbling around, practically trying to please him.

Some kind of ghost, who just wanted validation, then? Company?

Stanton stood up from his bed, groaning into the dark. His leg injury was acting up again. He dug into the lowest cupboard of the shelf by his bed, getting out a random pill packet. They were all painkillers in there, anyway, any one he got would do the trick.

He popped out three, and then grabbed the water glass at the top of the shelf.

Empty. Of fucking course he hadn’t seen that. He’d been too dissociated while getting ready to sleep. And then still dissociated for about an hour under the covers, anyway, not sleeping.

He could only hope Undyne didn’t bust down his shop door today, asking what the hell was going on with the police car.

He carried the pills with him as he stood up, muttering a curse as pressure was put on that injury.

He practically stumbled downstairs, to the kitchen. He finally took the pills into his mouth, and just turned on the sink, leaning down to the stream to have a gulp.

Hold up.

He still didn’t have percocet upstairs, did he?

Oh hell, if he has just taken three of that, especially like, five or more-year old ones (they didn’t even come in packets anymore, only prescription bottles) he would be fucked for the whole of today.

Stanton stood by the entrance to the kitchen for a moment, peering at his living room.

Peering at the TV.

He walked forward, inhaling.

He lowered himself down, his chin perching onto the corner of that suspicious box. “...Can you hear me? If you’re turned off?”

Tenna had honestly instantly gone to bed after that debacle.

And now he was awake instantly, as he felt pressure on the top left corner of his box.

Stanton was talking to him again.

In the middle of the night.

Oh no. It was weighing on him.

Tenna never wanted him to weigh on the human.

Tenna inhaled, knowing he couldn’t respond anything back, anyway, because he was turned off

He could only just nod to himself, an anxious sneer pulling against his mouth projection.

“You…you’re just…looking for company, right?”

Tenna inhaled again.

“You’re not gonna…curse me or something?”

He felt the chuckle through the throat leaned against him, currently. Tenna rainbowed out instantly, pulling his knees up.

“‘Cause lemme tell you, I’ve had just about enough shit already thrown around in my life. I just want peace now.”

And peace is what Tenna wanted for Stan.

He still didn’t know. Had only gathered context clues.

Stan…used to not be the same man he was when he came to this town. He had…secrets.

Terrible secrets.

Horrifying memories.

Tenna let out a whimper, as he recalled that one night, when Stan was drinking again. What he had said. “As good as you are, ethanol, you will never scratch the real itch, huh?”

“What do you want from me, anyway?”

Tenna’s sneer went wider.

He felt the pressure on top of his box disappear.

Oh. He was going to turn him on, wasn’t he.

Tenna anticipated it, ready to scream it as soon as he was turned on in the light world.

And then that familiar spark came.

And he perused through the channels in a single second inside his CRT mainframe.

Fuck. Nothing good.

He pulled up Youtube. Pulled up a specific song.

Pharrell Williams - Happy.

He was still too tuckered out to get out of bed and run to the main stage, to see what Stan thought about the implication.

But the first chorus hit, and Stanton instantly giggled.

Angel be damned. He giggled.

And Tenna instantly grinned back, all of his previous tension fading.

“Fuck, I forgot how peak that song was. Okay. You just…want to make me happy. And then it’s gonna make you happy?”

Tenna nodded violently against his pillow, “Yes, Stanton. I just want you to be happy.”

He knew the other couldn’t hear it. But he needed to say it, anyway.

He heard Stan sigh loudly during the last choir breakdown of the song.

And then he was turned off again.

“Well shit, who am I to stop you, then?”

He felt his presence get further and further.

He was going back to bed.

Tenna smiled, nuzzling against his pillow a little.

Yes.

The human at least knew now.

He could only hope Stan committed it to mind, and didn’t patronise him further.

—

“Oh, I’m gonna beat the everliving shit out of you!”

“HAHA! Bring it on!”

Ah. Berdly was visiting again.

Game time!

Tenna grinned as he was connected with the Xbox.

“Alright, gang! No funny business! And, yes I mean you, Pipster!” Tenna pointed at the third Pippins in the row of them in accusation.

The Pippins just snorted back, “Can’t promise shit.”

Tenna huffed. “We’re going for a clean fight, alright?” 

Stanton opened Smash Bros.

“Stan would kill that bird even if these idiots intervened or not,” Phils grinned, already having a hold on today’s Pippins group, just in case. They were all shouting back at him, trying to be set free. 

“Seriously, how can you claim to be a gamer when you always pick the worst characters in here?” Stan practically giggled, and the memory of three days ago made Tenna still, if only for a moment.

“Looks like we’ve got another Captain Falcon vs. Luigi situation on our hands, crew! Let’s get ready to rumble!”

Everyone just watched in anticipation, as Tenna shoutcasted the match.

“And that’s one point for Stanton! Let’s hope Berdly doesn't finally destroy the second controller, eh folks?”

Only the weather duo laughed, everyone else too focused on the game.

Stan lost a life not soon after. Practically everyone shouted in disdain.

“Come on, Stan, we know you can kill him in two seconds flat. Just don’t be a pussy!” Phils grinned.

The fight went on. Berdly lost another life, then Stanton.

“Ooooh, it’s neck a neck! What awaits at the end of this single match? Even I don’t know, haha!”

Though, he did know.

It always went like this.

Stan always pulled back. Letting whoever was against him win.

Granted, all his opponents were kids. So it was very sweet of him.

But every time it was against Berdly, the whole arena shook in shouts, claiming that this was going to be the one time Stan finally let the kid be humbled.

Yet, it wasn’t so this time, either.

Tenna was the only one who could feel it, through Stanton’s controller currently locked into his mainframe. He was only doing simple combo moves, which weren’t good enough to actually punt Captain Falcon into obscurity.

Everyone was already shouting about how Stan was folding once again.

Tenna was just smiling at Stan, having a laid back smile, deliberately fumbling the game.

“And Stanton gets overpowered once again! Who is this kid at this point, like, are we serious?” Tenna grinned as Berdly won.

Stan was always determined to hold up a fight against the bird monster, and then mysteriously fumbled at the last minute.

With Noelle, he didn’t try at all.

With Kris, he actually always lost out of his own efforts.

What a family man.

Tenna would love to see Stanton having his own kid. Yet, the thought always made him jealous, because he didn’t want him to have anyone else’s kid.

The audience was still shouting in disappointment, while Tenna mulled over it once again.

Both him and Stanton were…male.

But he was so down bad at this point that he actually wanted a family with the human. In his innermost fantasies.

Which would never see the light, anyway.

Stan was a lightner.

Tenna was a darkner.

They would probably never breathe the same air, even.

“So you’re ready to handle another year of school, I’m guessing.” Stanton chuckled, leaning against his hand on the couch rest.

Berdly snorted, “Most certainly!”

Oh, where had the days gone? It was already the 31st of August! School was starting tomorrow!

Tenna instantly felt a little glooby that he couldn’t encourage Kris through the final day of summer vacation this year.

Speak of the ill and they shall appear.

Stanton’s doorbell rang. He stood up to go answer it, and came back to view with Kris in tow.

“...Nerdly.”

“Krismas.”

Kris blinked, sneering after a few seconds of acknowledging the reply, “Oh, I’m gonna punt Noelle, she finally let you in on that nickname?!”

“Okay, I don’t want toddlers fighting in my house,” Stanton huffed.

Both Berdly and Kris shouted at him over it, while Stan just laughed instantly.

Kris turned to the TV. They smiled a little, “You and me, bird for brains.”

Berdly grinned, “You are so on.”

“Please don’t malfunction my TV more than it already has been,” Stanton just sighed as Kris sat down where he had been a minute before, picking up the controller.

“Oh! It looks like we’ve got a round two on our hands, gang! And this time, the bird is actually in trouble. I’m sure 95 percent of you are praying for his downfall. The nerve.”

Multiple eyes actually turned to Tenna, amused.

Tenna snorted, “No yeah, You’re right, I’m in that 95 percent.”

“Smash that bird!” Phils shouted. Everyone except Pluey and Tenna started chanting along.

“It’s Captain Falcon versus Sonic. FIGHT!”

Kris won in about three minutes. Didn’t even get one fall for them.

Berdly shouted, “Incorrigible! You must have cheated somehow!”

“Or maybe Stanton just sucks in general,” Kris smirked back.

“Heard that,” Stan came back to the living room, holding a platter of snacks. He put it down on the coffee table and then ran back to the kitchen to get the glasses.

When he came back, Berdly was munching on the trail mix and Kris was munching on a chocolate chip cookie.

“I must regain my honour!” Berdly basically preened.

Kris snorted, “Sure, though you’re not gonna regain it back.”

Stanton watched the two play, grinning. Seriously, why was Kris this good?

He frowned a little as he thought about it. Kris definitely shut themselves in their room and just gamed on the PC, then, these past two-three years. Definitely attached the Dreemurrs’ Wii to the computer, taking it away from the TV. Trying to distance themselves from the rest of the family breaking apart.

Stanton laughed as Berdly exclaimed in disbelief once again as Kris won. Though, this time, it was with more effort. Berdly had pulled out all the nerd knowledge combo moves in this round. Kris actually had fallen from the map twice. Though Berdly’s last gauge was so high that Kris only had to pull a spin dash on him once and Berdly lost.

“By the way, yes, I do suck, actually,” Stan commented, ruffling Kris’ hair and patting Berdly against his shoulder.

Berdly huffed, “I concede.”

Kris rolled their eyes, “Can you ever talk like a normal person?”

“I am talking like a normal person!”

“No toddler roughhousing,” Stanton instantly scolded, stopping the insult match before it even began.

Kris and Berdly just turned away from each other, brooding like teenagers loved to do.

Stan moved away from both of them, chuckling, killing the feed to the HDMI and letting it just stay on the last channel he had watched yesterday. AMC. Some obscure old timey movie was on.

Things got back to normal around the stage and backstage as the feed was flipped back to regular TV. Tenna made a gesture of swiping off sweat from the top of his head, flicking his hand dramatically, “What a show!”

Some laughed, and then everyone just settled in for the downtime, as Tenna was provided with a chair.

“Oh, I believe we’ve seen this one before! Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf!”

“Like, 40 percent of the current staff haven’t seen it, actually,” Phils chuckled. Tenna just shook his head, “Then prepare for vagueness and deceit!”

Tenna’s memory had been spot on since Stanton upgraded him. Somebody could ask him to reroll to a specific date and he could do it instantly. He had only tried it out of his own curiosity with the Mikes, as they had said it as more of a joke than anything. But the switchback happened, and all four practically giggled around it.

And then he started experimenting with it during his nights alone in his suite.

The longest he had gone back to was Stanton’s fifth babysitter visit. When Kris was still just a small toddler, babbling nonsense to Stanton as Stan just listened with half-fake enthusiasm, and encouraged the other to play around more. Run around more.

Yeah, he was always the chaotic type of sitter. When Asgore and Toriel were gone, Kris had all the freedom to poke and prod at everything around the house, with of course, some reproaches from the adult human, as he always explained why Kris couldn’t do this or that, actually, lest they hurt themselves.

He honestly missed those days.

And then his mind got back into his projecting screen, just staring at the sight that was Stanton’s living room, with Kris as a teenager, Berdly, the three talking about the last year of middle school and Stanton laughing as the kids were ready to just enroll into high school already.

“Honestly, I don’t know much about monster-oriented high school, but lemme tell you, those years are when all the bullshit really piles up.”

Kris frowned, “You’re talking about your…own experience?”

“Duh. But, you know, my high school only literally had five monsters. And humans are assholes, so yeah. Nevermind me, you’re gonna do great, Kris.”

He patted them on the head again. Tenna grinned as Kris just shuffled away a little, feeling awkward.

Berdly also turned around to Stan, “So…you…had a tough time?”

Stan blinked at the bird teen. And then just smiled again, “It was like, ages ago. I don’t even remember an inch of it, at this point. Just that one nagging reminder in the back of my brain like ‘oh my god, high school fucking sucked!’”

Berdly frowned a little. Stanton instantly huffed, “Doesn’t mean you guys are gonna have the same thing. Hell, I know how much more accepting the world has become. So you don’t let anyone dull your shine either, Berdly.”

Berdly snorted back, “As if I would. I’m too superior to let some C-plus mongrels get to me.”

“Okay, now we both know you’re not talking about me,” Kris smirked back.

Tenna tilted his head. Kris had been doing subpar in school lately?

They used to be a good student! Not a straight A's one but still.

Damnit. All the happening of these past few years really did a number on them. Tenna just wanted to burst out into the light world instantly and hug his second favourite viewer.

He’d accepted it since July. Stanton was now his number one.

But still, his heart yearned to comfort Kris whenever he could.

“Which reminds me,” Berdly smiled a little as he turned back to Kris, yet that smile held contempt. “You want me to bully Susie a little this year?”

Kris blinked.

Stanton also blinked.

“You know, in retaliation.” Berdly’s smile went into a sneer.

Oh dear. Despite the two’s rivalry, they were actually pretty close.

Definitely through Noelle, anyway.

Oh, Tenna just wished for the trio to game on him now, Stanton just backseating in the background like the pretty prince he was. He would definitely give Noelle the most pointers.

Kris frowned, “No. I’m good.”

Berdly just humpfed again, backing off.

Stanton grinned, “Well, to be fair, nerds trying to bully back is always a death wish so...”

Berdly instantly turned back to the adult, “You would be surprised.”

Stanton shook his head, chuckling.

Angel above, Stan needed to have his own child right now.

Tenna didn’t even need it for another constant audience in the household.

He just needed it for Stanton to be happy.

“It’s getting late, guys.” Stanton had picked up his phone to check the time. “Your mom is gonna have my head if I let you stay for a second longer, Berdly.”

Both kids also took out their phone to check the time. “By the beards, you’re right! I’m sorry, Stanton!”

Stanton grinned, “Nah, no worries. Just get a move on.”

Tenna and the rest watched in symbiotic bliss as the three moved around, Berdly getting his jacket. It must be a windy end to the summer.

“I hope you’ll actually pull your weight this time around, Kris,” Berdly left with one final tease as he exited.

Kris huffed, “I’m gonna kill him one day, just you watch me.”

Stanton cackled, ruffling the other’s hair for the fifth time this evening. “You get home safe too, alright?”

Kris hugged him. Stan hugged back with a grin.

“I’m sorry. Probably won’t have much time to bother you out of nowhere during school time.”

“Honestly, perfect. Finally getting these asshole babies out of my house.”

Kris grinned as they let go. “Bye.”

“Bye Kris.”

“Okay, this is gonna be the moment where Stan is gonna mumble some poetry at Tenna again, be ready, guys,” one of the Pippins mumbled to the crew.

Tenna heard it. And he was instantly waiting for it, then.

Stanton walked back into view of the living room, sighing.

And he actually walked up to Tenna’s lightner body. The TV.

He sat down right in front of him, grinning.

“I hope you're also relieved that Kris is gonna be okay, then.”

Tenna instantly grinned back. “Of course. That kid is as tough as nails!”

He hadn’t actually flipped to anywhere. Just said it out of principle.

Stanton sighed loudly, relaxing his shoulders.

“Night, poltergeist,” and then Stanton caressed the left side of his box.

Tenna bristled in his seat instantly.

But as soon as the touch enveloped him, it disappeared.

And he was turned off.

“And that’s a wrap, folks!” Tenna just said, still grinning as he stood up from the seat. “Beverages are on me tonight!”

All of the Pippins instantly cheered, running away, while everyone else stuck around, cleaning up the set.

Tenna just stood still, standing around like a dumbass, as he still had a feed on Stanton, even when turned off.

The human was cleaning up the living room, humming Metallica - Orion to himself.

Tenna practically hunched over, grinning like the lovesick idiot he was.

He didn’t even acknowledge the staff around him diminishing person by person, until there was nobody but Battat left.

“Boss? You ready to go?” he asked timidly.

Tenna sighed dreamily. “Yeah, sorry.”

“No worries,” Battat chuckled, instantly getting back into the yap session the two had gone over yesterday, about that one video essay Stanton had watched last week. Both had instantly fixated on it. It was about multiverse theory, of course it enraptured them.

The two split ways when they stopped at Tenna’s room.

“Have a good night, boss.”

“You too, B- Mike,” Tenna almost fumbled.

And it seemed that Battat was too tuckered out from the previous Smash Bros rounds that he didn’t even acknowledge it, just waving a hand as a goodbye.

Poor Battat. He always worked the hardest out of the Mikes.

Tenna entered his room, ready to fall asleep like a baby.

Tonight had been too good.

The game!

Berdly actually being humbled, finally. Not that Tenna actually held any animosity against the kid, just the situation being hilarious.

Finally knowing that Kris and Berdly actually held some kind of…appreciation for each other. So Kris wasn’t being bullied by some other third party.

Who was Susie, anyway? And why had Berdly practically presented himself to protect Kris?

Stanton just grinning through the whole debacle, as relaxed as ever.

And it seemed that he had an inkling that Tenna had been sentient since his conception, as he had said those encouraging words to him today.

He changed out of his clothes and rolled into bed, sighing.

The duvet was a little bit cold this time. Just how he wanted it to be.

“Good night, Stanton Gerard Stinton,” he mumbled into the empty room as he turned his screen off.

And it seemed that Stan was still doing his getting-ready-for-bed routine as he heard a mumble of “Again, night, Cathode” back.

Chapter Text

The whole of September rolled by too fast. Stanton just blinked and it was already the 25th.

To be fair, he could excuse his own quick passing of time for basically trying to grill his CRT every chance he could. After that blip during the end of August, whatever was possessing his TV had…fallen back. No clear answers anymore. Just context clues.

“Do you remember who you were?...Are?”

“I am me. He is me. And I’m you.” Rush hour…3? 2? Man, he never paid attention to the movies when they were on, growing up.

“Since when have you been possessing this CRT?”

“It’s been 84 years…” Titanic. Bruh. Stan instantly cringed at himself as he thought that meme word. He was too fucking old to actually say that out loud.

“Do you think you’ll somehow gather energy through me to become corporate…or something? You did say you weren’t gonna possess ME but…”

“I don’t wanna hurt you.” Madagascar. Pff.

“Do you…still feel lonely?”

“[...] miss you, even if we never met.” Some romantic movie? Damn. Stan actually felt his chest tighten at that response.

“Do you…fuck.” Stanton looked away, laughing at himself. He’d been drinking again. So he was being delirious as he tried to ask this time.

The channel didn’t change but the series being shown currently glitched backwards. “What is it?”

Stan sneered, turning back, actually feeling more hot in his face than just the alcohol buzz.

“Do you actually have any…perception about me?”

The CRT glitched into the grey screen of death. Stan cringed more. Damn. He practically glitched it out fully with that question, then.

Until after eighteen seconds (he’d been counting unconsciously) it switched back.

It was pulled into a movie trailer on YouTube. The Salvation.

Stanton inhaled. “Oh...oh wow.”

He raised a hand to the CRT’s side, caressing it. “I assure you, I’m no salvation. For anything.”

Also, besides him asking, the TV didn’t glitch out of their own volition, anymore. Stanton would plop down on the couch, feeling miserable to hell and beyond, and turn on the TV with it showing a psychological thriller. And not even moving from it. Stan would have to switch away himself.

He currently had four cars to fix in the shop. The parents started carpooling all their children to school again, instead of deciding to walk around the town in the hot summer days, hoping to get some vitamin D in the family. Only one vehicle was proving difficult, to be fair. But he had been dissociating the whole month, at this point, that he couldn’t even handle a simple task of replacing oil. He just stared around his small warehouse, his mind filled with the poltergeist in his home. That he had practically invited into his own home, because from all the context clues he’d gathered recently, it seemed that this thing was even sentient when they were back with the Dreemurrs.

God.

What the fuck did he even do this past year to deserve this?

Or maybe him building up to a simple hardworking life to this stage was God’s way of saying, “Oh no. You don’t deserve this much peace yet.”

What did he have to do to be absolved?

The town only had the monster’s religious church. No Christian church.

He honestly thought every day of clocking out of work, to drive to the village ten miles near to just…go confess there.

Yet, he had nothing to confess. Expect alcoholism. Which in his own mind, didn’t even count for that much. Humans were always self-indulgent creatures. And Jesus had forgiven them for it.

Or did he actually have to confess again to the relapse?

He had. Five times. Even went to one of the nearby bigger towns in the state for it. The priest at the fifth confessional booth had told him to try to forgive himself, for once.

And though he felt like he fully hasn’t to this day, he just decided not to bother anyone else anymore.

Stanton just dissociated on the couch this particular evening, feeling like he was in a therapist’s room, laying down on their expensive ass tight recliners, as he asked. “Do you think I’m a bad person?”

The TV switched.

“So do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.”

Fucking Lord of The Rings.

Stan practically giggled at the response, sinking further down into the cushions.

“Never fucking change, Cathode.”

He closed his eyes. It was a Saturday tomorrow, he could afford a quick nap, more autopiloting until 3 am and then sleeping fully.

Tenna was conflicted.

The crew had had a five-hour meeting over the predicament. How much Tenna should…expose them.

So after that, Tenna obviously pulled back from giving direct answers, instead deciding to be cryptic.

And it seemed to be dampening Stanton’s mood this past month.

Honestly, nobody was happy with this. But they had all agreed that it was for the greater good.

Stanton should never actually realise that his house was alive under the darker than dark.

So all of them just cringed along when Stan tried to ask something, and Tenna fumbled around an answer.

Though, Stanton always took it in stride. But Tenna knew, staring back at that human projected in the audience.

He was growing increasingly frustrated over not being answered to clearly, anymore.

“Alright, volume down, dim the lights a little,” Tenna sighed, turning to the current Mike on call.

Jongler nodded a little, doing just that.

“Have a good nap, Stanton,” Tenna mumbled, as everyone was getting ready to already pack it up, even if Tenna knew Stan would wake up later and just stare at him aimlessly until finally going to bed.

He was the only one who stayed on the stage, informing everyone to keep their heads in check just in case Stanton decided to have a considerate session after the nap.

He still stayed on the stage in one place as it emptied. Just staring back at the other’s slightly strained face as he slept.

The human’s hand on his chest kept twitching.

Stan awoke - he checked the phone on the coffee table - two and a half hours later.

He sighed, dropping the before reached hand off from the couch, making contact with the carpet.

He turned to the TV. Some random game show that was delivering the closing lines.

He kept it on the channel as he stood up, deciding to at least have some kind of snack. He hadn’t made dinner tonight.

Sandwich it was. He huffed as he spread too much butter on it.

He walked back to the living room space, his leg injury aching a little.

He ate as he watched the current show. Fucking Gossip Girl.

Scrolled through his Twitter feed as he half-watched the other screen.

Brought out his sketchbook to scribble a little about the new music box he would want to imbed in the Chevy. The original one had finally died on him. The new one had to be an older model thingy. He just wondered if he should go full nostalgia with a tape box, or try to upgrade it with one of those first-invented cd slots.

He wrote, scribbled and sketched for so long that by the time he got out of the haze again, it was 1 am.

He turned to the TV. Some late-night infomercial.

It wasn't exactly the witching hour, but he felt like he could get through to it more, right now.

So he stood up, walking up to the TV stand, gripping the sides of the top of the box. “I know you can hear me, you little shit.”

Tenna gasped as he went back into full consciousness in two seconds after getting the human’s nails on him. He’d honestly just been content, staring at the other invested in his notebook, dozing a little over the sight of the other being this concentrated. (Stanton was licking his lips a lot.)

Only to have hands on him when he was about to fully fall asleep at the armchair on the stage.

He just shuddered against the implicit hold that instantly sent currents through his wires, as he waited for Stanton to speak more.

He wanted Stanton to lean into his vents, for his voice to reverberate against his ray tube.

And he instantly regretted that thought, as Stan did, in fact, lower down, growling against his left vent. It…Tenna shouldn’t even think it.

“What’s wrong with you?” Stanton whispered against the vent, obviously frustrated.

Tenna licked his lips this time.

He finally looked around the stage and backstage.

Nobody but him.

“Why are you so shy these days?” it almost felt like…an encouraging praise. What Stanton asked.

Tenna shivered more in his seat, shaking his head. Fucking get a grip!

“Am I not doing a good enough job in indulging you, these days?”

Tenna practically huffed at that.

Absolutely not! Just having Stanton have his eyes on him in any capacity was euphoria.

“Or did you actually get scared after I found out what was going on?”

Well, sure. That was what the meeting was about, anyway.

Though, with Tenna being alone right now, he had to admit to himself that he wanted nothing more than to just…go along with Stanton constantly.

Any time he felt sad, put on a silly cartoon.

When he felt okay, put on a romcom to have him laugh wholeheartedly.

When he mumbled to himself about a particular movie to reminisce on, to switch to that instantly.

Tenna had been holding himself back for only less than a month. Yet, it felt like a lifetime.

A lifetime of not being able to fully please his audience of one.

Of two, when you considered Noelle taking refuge at Staton’s once more during a single evening. Even then he hadn’t budged.

He wished he had budged. Noelle had looked so damn nervous, shaken about…Stan never asked, this time. Just talked about his own shit, to distract the girl.

“Hm? Are you? Scared now? That I figured it out?” Stanton practically jeered, chuckling against his vents.

Tenna needed a cold shower when this was about to be over.

Tenna finally said something. He didn’t even know if he was switching a channel or not. “You don’t understand.”

Stanton stilled against him, simply breathing. So Tenna did switch, even if he didn't acknowledge it fully right now.

“You can’t understand. It’s too complicated.”

Stanton still just breathed against him calmly. Too quiet.

Until he felt Stan smush his head onto the side of his TV box, sighing heavily. “Why can’t you tell me, then?”

Tenna whimpered at the question. “I can’t! It’s…just…you can’t. Know.”

Stanton growled again. “Fucking know what?”

And now Tenna considered it.

Did…Was he switching channels with ease now? Letting all of his words be broadcasted with multiple shifts?

Tenna didn’t even concentrate on that, as he answered back, “Please, just… trust me? It’s not that easy.”

Stanton laughed against him, “When I told you I wanted things to be easy?”

“I’m sorry.”

Stanton sighed heavily again.

The pressure around his box disappeared in a millisecond. Tenna whined quietly over it.

Angel, he wanted Stanton’s arms around him 24/7.

“Fine. I get it. Just…I hope it’s not actually hindering you, then?”

Tenna would have blinked if he had visible eyes on his screen.

“Having to hold back. Or something.”

Fucking shit.

This human.

So compassionate. Be Tenna a darkner, a ghost, a demon, whatever. Nothing but…sympathy.

Tenna wanted to cry.

“I’m alright. I promise.”

Stanton instantly cackled, “Ain’t no way you pulled up that song!”

Ah. My Chemical Romance. Right.

Which also kind of betrayed his own fib.

Because he was, in fact, not okay.

He just wanted to switch into the Netflix The Powerpuff Girls stream for the hundredth time since he learned that that was Stan’s favorite cartoon.

Tenna bit his upper lip. “Are you mad at me?”

His eyes finally opened back up again, staring at the human at the bleachers.

Stanton shook his head, “Nope. I…I should actually apologise to you for pushing this hard.”

Tenna wanted Stan to push him even harder. Until he would break under the pressure.

Fuck. He needed to stop peeking into the Hostel room out of curiosity.

“It’s okay. I know you’re angry because I can’t give you the whole truth.”

Stanton was frowning. But he nodded along, anyway.

“Okay. Yeah. I’m going to bed. Night.”

“Good night,” Tenna just smiled back.

And that beautiful face from the audience seat disappeared.

And Tenna felt Stanton’s presence from around him, in general, disappear once more.

When all he wanted was to pull the human back and smother him in comfort.

He finally stood up, stretching his back.

He was honestly excited for whoever from his staff chewing him out tomorrow over having this weak moment.

Yet, he also hoped it would be Espression. He could actually banter back with her in a way nobody else yet managed to fit. Except the Mikes, but Tenna felt that they were kind of getting tired of his bullshit, at this point.

He wanted his bedsheets to be ice cold. So he could get over his buzz.

Stanton inhaled through his nose violently as he turned the TV off.

Fuck, this was…way too complicated.

This just meant that the poltergeist answered to something of a higher power. And they couldn't fully respond, actually, lest they be…eradicated?

Well, Stan sure was fond of the CRT enough at this point that he didn’t want that to happen.

Maybe he should just lay off.

Yet, his mind practically screamed against all the questions he wanted answers to.

He stood up, stretching his legs.

The old wound instantly hurt over the strain. When it shouldn’t. It was fully healed, just being a normal big scar.

He really should search at this point, how one could have phantom pain over just a scar, not an actually dismembered limb.

He was so ready to just…drive to ____ and get something from the nearest dealer.

But he just walked upstairs, ready to soak in a blazing hot shower for five minutes and pass out.

Those stuttered messages. What the full glitches spelled out. His CRT definitely cared for him, in some manner. It did dangerous things to his insides.

God, he was a lonely piece of shit.

—

October 1st, and the convenience store was already filled with Halloween knick-knacks.

He simply took a glance over them, then focused back on his weekly shopping list. When the hell had he even put in ‘peanut butter’? He rarely ate the stuff. Guess it was a craving when he had been drunk last week.

Somebody tapped his shoulder as he was about to open the dairy fridge. He turned around.

And instantly laughed, “Sorry, Berdly, this body is built on childhood horror trauma. Good try, though.”

Berdly instantly pulled away the cheap mask from covering his face, huffing.

Stan opened the fridge, smiling, “How are you handling things?”

Berdly shrugged, “It’s…quiet. For now.”

Stanton cheesed at the implication, “For now?”

Berdly shrugged again, “I just…got a bad feeling. Something’s about to boil over soon.”

Stan hummed in response, “Honestly, I kind of got a feeling about something like that, too.”

Berdly snorted, “You worry too much, Mr. Stinton.”

Stan just rolled his eyes with a smile.

“Actually, uh…” Berdly spoke up after Stanton had walked to the other aisle, and Berdly followed with only a yogurt cap to his name for now. He looked back down at the bird.

“Have you conversed with Kris recently?”

“Conversed. Pff,” Stanton snorted. “No? The last time I actually saw them was when you two were over before the first school day.”

“Okay,” Berdly looked away, trying to be nonchalant. But he was sweating a little.

Stanton raised an eyebrow, “Is there something I should know?”

Berdly shrugged, “You’re not their babysitter anymore, you don’t have to know anything.”

“Then why did you ask?”

Berdly lowered his head, sneering. More at himself, for sure.

“Okay, here’s the deal. Situation,” he raised his head up again, practically leaning forward a little.

Stan frowned, also leaning down a little. Like Berdly was about to tell a secret or something.

“It started last week. Kris…they’ve been so quiet since last week.”

Stan’s eyebrows squinted. “Just quiet or…quiet quiet?”

Berdly made a face as he tilted his head to the side, “Well, they’re talking. But it’s…simple responses. Not willing to talk back more. Heck, I teased them just today and all they said was “okay, good to know” and walked away.”

Oh, that definitely didn’t sound like Kris. They’d be quipping back in two seconds or less. Especially if it was Berdly mocking them in jest.

Stan pursed his lips, “And you say it started last week?”

Berdly nodded, “I just hoped you’d…know something through Ms. Dreemurr?”

“Well, Tori has also been busy ever since school started. I talked to her two weeks ago only, and she didn’t say anything about Kris being…subdued. Wait, is that the right term?”

“It is,” Berdly instantly scoffed at the question, as if it was a given. Stanton rolled his eyes again at the know-it-all.

Suddenly, Noelle was near the two, “It’s not just last week.”

Both Berdly and Stan turned to her, faces tense.

Noelle shrugged her shoulders, “Well, yeah, it definitely worsened last week, but…they’ve been like this, at least with me, since July?”

“Okay, I’m gonna ask Toriel tonight, then,” Stanton hummed.

“Please update us!” Berdly perked up. Noelle also nodded along.

Stanton huffed, “Honestly, at this point I feel like you kids wouldn’t get anywhere without me.”

He ruffled Noelle’s hair instinctively. Noelle giggled.

Tenna rolled through the evening’s show. Stan decided to watch some mind-numbing quiz shows again. The human ate his dinner, having a slightly tense face. What was wrong this time?

The crew got to know, as Stanton picked up his phone a minute after finishing his meal, dialing someone.

“Toriel! How’s it going?” Stan smiled despite himself.

“Oh, okay. That, uh…sucks. Haha,” Stanton responded to the reply.

“Well…I actually called you for a reason.”

What reason? Tenna tensed up.

“So uh…both Noelle and Berdly cornered me at the store today. They said Kris is being…weird. Like, weirder than usual.”

Oh no. Kris?

“They said they’re…just…really quiet. And…evasive. Subdued.”

That definitely didn’t sound like Kris. Tenna hummed unconsciously, shrinking down a little in concern.

He saw Connor, from the corner of his screen, ask about Kris from one of the Shadowguys. Probably why Tenna was always concerned with the lightner from the previous household.

He could only hope the Shadowguy was giving a good answer through their saxophone trills as he didn’t try to translate it in his head much right now, steeling his focus on the conversation happening in the light world.

“Oh. Uh…well, that can answer it, I guess. But still…you…haven’t tried to ease them to go to sleep?” Stanton was being a little accusative. Tenna instantly wanted to bristle back that Toriel was doing all they could.

“Oh damn. Sorry. Shit. Yeah, that honestly doesn’t sound good.” Stan answered next. Toriel’s reply seemed to only explain further and not defend back.

What was Toriel even saying, though? No sleep?

Nightmares?

What?!?!?!

Tenna let out a frustrated hum, not being privy to the whole conversation.

“You alright, boss?” Elnino dared to ask.

“I don’t like not knowing the whole story, right about now.”

Elnino just nodded in the background, “Same, to be fair.”

“Uh. I don’t know. What the hell can I do? I…I’m not close to them at all, at this point…” And then Stanton demeaned himself again, and Tenna wanted to tear his own nose off in frustration.

Of course you’re still close with Kris!

“I mean…” Stan chuckled, “What, like you’re gonna ask me to babysit this month?”

Oh please please please. Let the two figure it out together. Even if Tenna wasn’t in the Dreemurr household anymore and he couldn’t see. But he could already imagine the grin on Stanton’s face when he would come back home.

“Well…okay! Let me know, then.” Stan swallowed. Tenna instantly focused on the bob of his neck.

“Yeah, don’t…don’t tear yourself up over this, either. You’re literally the best mom I’ve ever met in my lifetime. You got this.”

Oh, how sweet. Tenna instantly sized up, vibrating.

And then thought about that again, and instantly shrunk back down. Oh.

Stan…didn’t have a good mother of his own?

Angel, what an enigma of a human.

Stanton laughed next, “Oh, don’t start mothering me now! I’m practically the same age as you.”

Stanton laughed more, listening to her reply.

“Yeah. Good night, Tori.”

Stan hung up. And instantly hid his face into his hands, hunching down on his seat on the couch, groaning.

“Well. That went…well?” Tenna said out loud.

“Hey, just out of curiosity…do you know what Kris likes on YouTube?” Phils walked forward, grinning.

Tenna looked down at him.

Aw. The current household (or the ones that detracted to his studio, anyway) wanted to also encourage Kris now.

“Not a clue, sorry,” Tenna smiled awkwardly, “I didn’t have connection back there.”

“Okay. We’ll just figure it out, then.” Phils patted him on the side of his hip. Tenna nodded, grinning assuredly this time.

—

Stan was honestly baffled. “Come on, you piece of shit,” he hissed.

The internet wouldn't connect on his phone. Did the new update finally make the UI obsolete?

He took a sip of his coffee, walking to the living room with it, groaning in frustration as he turned the CRT on.

Only to find that the CRT couldn’t connect, either.

“The fuck.”

He decided to call Toriel. Two times in the span of a week, wow.

“Stanton! Good morning!”

“Hey, is it just me or is the internet down anywhere else, too?”

“Oh, yes! It’s also down in our house. Kris is really mad, right about now. We were supposed to have a scheduled video call with Asriel this morning.”

“Damn, I’m sorry,” Stan sneered.

The two held some other small talk before dropping the call.

Stan sighed, turning to the TV.  “So how’s it affecting you, Cathode?”

The channels switched. Alternating through the streams, going back for the last one.

“I’m~~~Okay~~~Stan.”

“Okay,” Stan sighed.

He kept watching the current channel for another ten minutes while downing his coffee slowly, before having to get a move on to go to work.

Tenna inhaled, “Has someone checked on Phils?”

“Oh no, I didn’t even think about that!” Elnina gasped, and then ran off.

Tenna just buzzed in his stance.

This…was going to be trouble, wasn’t it?

Kris still hadn’t come over, either. Philip was actually so enthusiastic about showing off to Kris when the time came.

Sorry, buddy. Tenna frowned, “Can someone fill in for me just in case? I also wanna check on Phils.”

Mike/Battat took the stand, walking to the stage, grinning, “Go ahead boss.”

Tenna practically ran from the stage.