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solalunar-eclipse · 1 year ago

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Strings Neither Green Nor Red

Chapter title: Yellow Threads (Videon E. Addison)

AO3 Link

Rating: T

1 | 2 | 3 | 4

Summary: As much as Spamton might try, he can't avoid his old friends/coworkers forever. And is staying away really doing any of them any favors? (Aka I really like reuniting Spamton with the Addisons who used to know him and jumped at the chance to do it here. Set post-Chapter 2.)

Spamton belongs to Toby Fox, all other characters belong to @brightgoat on Tumblr and Twitter. (Also, just so you all know, this fic is probably going to wind up being a bit lighter than the average piece of Brightgoat content, just due to my own writing style. Hopefully that's not too much of an issue!)

Also: TW for implied/referenced alcohol abuse/alcoholism in this chapter.

It was a dark day in Cyber City. The glowing screens and advertisements plastered across every building gleamed as the sole source of light for all the city’s inhabitants. If one of them were to look up, all they would see beyond the skyscrapers and between the green grid was a dark void stretching out into infinity.

Of course, it was always this dark in Cyber City, no matter what, but at the moment Video felt like it reflected their mood more than usual.

They blinked tiredly, struggling to focus their eyes on the clock by their cash register, which read six a.m.—the start of their shift. They’d had an early night (for once) yesterday, but somehow when they did sleep, it was always restless and uncomfortable, plagued with unsettling dreams that they could never quite remember.

Video sighed, and summoned up just enough energy to plaster a huge grin on their face as the first of their customers came in for the day. Their numbers had been dwindling for a long time now, so they were actually rather grateful for the few that remained. Even that fact could only add some genuineness to their smile, though, as genuine happiness had eluded them for a long time now.

Vid moved through their morning on autopilot, throwing out all of the catchphrases and selling points that they’d long since memorized. Their job wasn’t even something they had to focus on anymore, so it didn’t qualify as a distraction (although they often wished it did). The customers’ faces were a blur—they’d stopped trying to memorize new names a while ago. They weren’t really able to these days, unfortunately.

Once the clock hit twelve, it was technically time for him to close up shop for his lunch break, but he didn’t particularly care if he was working or not, honestly...at least not until the end of the day, when he could hopefully go to the nearest bar and drink his sorrows away.

He rubbed at his eyes as he stepped out into the street, trying to adjust to something that wasn’t the monotonous glare of the fluorescent lights in his store, before pinching the bridge of his nose tiredly. Once upon a time, he’d had access to constant, endless energy, but that wasn’t something he could rely on anymore. The person who’d been there to fuel it was gone now, and his sales (his entire life) hadn’t been the same since.

No, not “the person”. He had a name. Spamton. Video’s jaw tightened slightly—Pay’s constant emotional repression must’ve been getting to him more than he realized.

As Vid turned the sign in his store to the side marked “Closed”, a flicker of movement in the reflection on the glass door caught his eye. A tasque, perhaps, searching for food in the nearby alleyway?

He walked over to check (his easily distractible nature was one of the few traits of his that had remained over time), but saw…nothing. The yellow Addison shrugged and was just about to turn away when a sudden crinkle, followed by a loud slam, came from the dumpster in the alley.

“…hello?” he called warily.

The bin remained silent. Suddenly, though, a tasque did actually appear, padding over to the dumpster and beginning to paw at it and meow unhappily.

“Aw, is one of your friends stuck in there?” Video asked, his expression softening a little. The tasque looked very cute and sad, he had to admit.

As he walked over to the bin and placed a hand on the top, he heard some rustling from inside. “Alright then, let’s see what we’ve got in here.” he said, opening the lid to reveal…

…still nothing?

The tasque leapt into the dumpster and began to paw vigorously at the trash, making Video yelp and jump aside. He took a few more rapid steps back as the contents of the bin began to move without warning, but froze when he heard a voice complaining from inside.

“STOP IT, YOU SILLY [[Feline]]!! CAN’T YOU [C] I’M TRYING TO [Undercover Agent]—?!?”

The person inside cut themselves off abruptly, but Video had already heard more than enough for him to know who was inside. He stumbled forwards until he hit the edge of the dumpster, clinging to it with both hands in a desperate bid to remain upright as his thoughts whirled with disbelief.

Sprawled amongst the trash, his black-dyed hair all a mess as a tasque licked vigorously at his face, was Spamton G. Spamton himself.

He looked genuinely stunned as he stared up at Video, clearly lacking all of his usual bravado. “UM…HI?”

“You’re alive.” Vid breathed, his mind returning to him in full force. “You’re alive, oh my god!”

His mouth kicked into overdrive seconds later, finally remembering that he knew a decent amount of words as well as how to use them. “Holy—where have you been all this time?! Why didn’t you come back home, didn’t you know I thought you were dead? What happened to you?!?” he yelled, turning away to pace back and forth forcefully.

Spamton blinked. “WAIT. SINCE WHEN. DID YOU WANT. ME TO COME BACK?”

“What?” Video wheezed, halting his movement as Spam’s response registered. “Since when’d you think I didn’t?”

“THAT [[Late Night Special]] AT THE CYBER GRILL—?” The smaller Addison froze as his voice glitched, clapping a hand over his mouth. He moved farther back into the bin, eyes darting around for an escape route, but Vid wasn’t having any of that.

“Hey hey hey, first of all, calm down.” Video insisted, kneeling down in front of Spam. “I’m not gonna be stupid like Click and make fun of you, ‘kay? Second, no, I’m not mad. Man, I wasn’t even upset for more than, like, a day or two, and then I realized how stupid I was being and came to look for you…but you weren’t there.”

Spamton looked away. “WELL, YOU MADE IT [Clear As Day] TO ME THAT YOU WANTED ME [Out of Stock] IN YOUR LIVES.”

“I—” Vid began, his hands starting to shake. “Spam, I—I’m so sorry. I…….I don’t have any excuse for what I did. I could come up with a million, but I’d just be lying. I was a jealous jerk, and that’s the end of it. And you don’tever have to forgive me, or talk to me again, but—oh god, if I have to spend the rest of my life without you I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”

“HA! YEAH, [[Shore Vacations 20% Off]].” Spam scoffed. “PULL THE OTHER ONE.”

“N-no, seriously! I know I didn’t tell you this enough way back when, but my life is literally better when you’re around. Like, I thought I was just hyper all day, every day because that’s me! But…now, I can barely do my job, man. I spend my nights at the bar like a loser, just trying to not feel like actual garbage for maybe a couple hours…but all that does is make me sound like a jerk. Dammit. Because, like, the fact that I can run away from my problems is probably still better than what you’ve been through. God, I’m rambling, I didn’t mean to, I just, I’d do literally anything to be able to talk to you for real again. Anything. Whatever you want, I’m serious. I will literally pay you actual money, whatever it is you want. Please.”

By the time they’d finished speaking, Vid could feel genuine tears welling up in their eyes. They’d cried plenty of nights when they were alone, but this was the first time it had happened in front of someone else.

Spamton just stared at him for a minute. With every second that ticked by, Vid felt more and more terrified…until finally, Spam spoke.

“YOU WANNA [Specil Purchase!] ME [[Government-Mandated Lunch Break]], THEN?”

“Are…you asking me to get lunch with you?” Vid asked, stunned.

“HEY, IF YOU’RE GONNA GIVE ME [[Wild Prizes]], I MIGHT AS [Well Visit] TAKE THEM!”

“I��m guessing this doesn’t mean we’re cool yet, though.” Vid said weakly.

Spamton hesitated. “NOT…YET. THAT WAS A PRETTY [A+] SPEECH THOUGH.”

“I meant it.” Video insisted.

“I NEVER SAID I DIDN’T [[Buy It Now!]].” Spam said, his face unreadable.

Vid stood up, their legs trembling. “Geez, I can barely walk. …uh, what do you want for lunch?”

“DOESN’T MATTER. I’M [Mail Order] THE MOST EXPENSIVE [[Item In Store]].” Spamton smirked.

“Fair…I’ll pick a medium decent place then.”

“NOT THE [[Bargain Bin]]?” Spam asked, curious.

“What, you seriously think I’m gonna stiff you? Now?” Vid was incredulous. “Did I not just say how much I want you to hang out with me again?”

“…HUH.” was Spamton’s only response.

True to his word, Spam did order the most expensive thing on the menu, and Vid shelled out the money for it without a single wince. This, more than any of the nervous conversation Video tried to make, seemed to help convince Spamton somewhat of their intentions.

After Vid had handed over their card, Spam started a conversation for the first time in the whole meal. “WHAT [[GPS Locator]] ARE YOU WORKING [@] TODAY?”

“Oh! Uh, just ad block/unblock. Basic stuff.” Vid said, clearly surprised.

“YOU GET ANY UN[[Block User]]S TODAY?” Spamton asked, smirking. It was a running source of irritation amongst all of the Addisons that hardly anyone came into their stores to get ads back. Having that happen was exceptionally rare and could make the user in question an instantly valued customer…so long as they didn’t reblock ads later.

“God, I wish. That’d be hilarious.” Vid smiled. “I think the latest person to get one was Cinnemon. I can’t even say I’m surprised, she’s really nice to her customers.”

“THAT’S THE ONE WHO LIKES [[Food Safety Rules]], RIGHT?”

“Yeah.” Video said, still half smiling. “I never told her why I was feeling so bad these past, like…years…but she gives me free cake sometimes, which is awesome.”

“SWEET, EVEN.” Spam said automatically, before seeming startled by his own joke.

Vid laughed. It was short, rusty—a little harsh, even. But still, it left them stunned. “Geez. I…I don’t think I’ve laughed in ages.”

“ARE YOU [srs]?” Spamton asked, sounding almost genuine.

“Yeah, wow…can’t even remember the last time I smiled for real. Yikes.”

“HUH…YOU REALLY [1 Missed Call] ME THAT MUCH?”

“I did.” Vid said quietly, visibly shrinking back into their chair.

A heavy silence fell over the table.

“…YOU WANNA GET [Breakfast is the most important meal of the day!] DAY AFTER TOMORROW?”

“Really? Yes!!” Video cried, nearly jumping out of their seat.

“DON’T GET TOO [Hype Train].” Spamton said flatly. “I’M STILL [[Cashing In]] ON THAT PROMISE OF YOURS.”

“Okay, okay. But still!” Vid exclaimed, jittering slightly. They were so excited at the promise of seeing Spam again, of smiling more, of, well…maybe, eventually, forgiveness.

…

Over the next few weeks, Video and Spamton met up occasionally for meals, slowly but surely rebuilding a fragile version of the bond they’d once had, despite Spam’s insistence otherwise. The former Addi had been starved for attention and care for far too long, and Vid was more than happy to provide.

As the visits continued on, Vid refused to disappoint, time after time, showing nothing but eagerness and compassion. Not long afterwards, Spam slowly stopped ordering only the most expensive food in favor of things he genuinely wanted.

One day, they’d had to have the difficult conversation about what had happened to each of them since they’d last been friends. It had been looming over several of their previous conversations, but Vid was eventually the one who brought it up first, forcing himself (and the other three Addis, despite the fact that they weren’t even there) to lay everything bare.

Shame had visibly weighed him down as he spoke, but he’d forced the words out regardless, insisting that Spam only deserved to know the truth if they were going to continue spending time together.

Some of it surprised Spamton, some of it didn’t, but in the end, he refused to stop spending time with the yellow Addi, leaving him elated. Meanwhile, he evaded telling Vid too much, giving him only a basic outline of what had happened—omitting Neo entirely, of course.

Video hadn’t been comfortable pushing the subject, something which Spam was grateful for. Still, despite the lack of information he’d provided, something about that had seemed to clear the air, allowing their later conversations to be lighter than before.

(Vid had also opted not to tell the other Addis about Spamton, both on his own and later at Spam’s request.)

One day, as a matter of fact, Video noticed that it was time for their lunch break to end…but for once, due to some weird scheduling, he didn’t actually have to go back to their job for the afternoon. “Hey, do you want to do literally anything else but work right now?”

“I DON’T HAVE [[A steady job]] ANYMORE, REMEMBER? YOU”RE [[The One And Only]] WHO EVEN HAS TO WORK.” Spamton said, smirking.

“Yeah, yeah, I know!” Video cried, throwing up his hands. “…wait, was that supposed to be funny or serious?”

“WHY CAN’T IT BE [[A Two For One Deal!]]?.” Spam asked. When this got him only awkward silence, he continued, “WELL, IF YOU DON’T NEED TO DO YOUR [Work Hours], HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT [[Hitting the town]]?”

“Oh my god, yes!” Video shouted, jumping to his feet. “Genius! I actually kind of had something I’ve been wanting to do for a while…”

…

…it was a miracle he didn’t get caught, honestly, despite the amount of time he spent watching the building beforehand to make sure he got his timing right. When Spamton had picked up on what the yellow Addi wanted to do, he’d even insisted on helping, much to Vid’s surprise. He hadn’t refused, though, delighted to do just about anything with Spam.

The danger in the situation was that pink Addisons were notoriously uptight, as well as famously strong��and Joyston was the strongest of them all. Video knew that running into him while pulling this off could potentially spell disaster and even death for both of them—but that was what made it fun.

After sneaking into his store and proceeding to swap every single pair of Dating Shoes for Divorce Shoes and vice versa, the two Addisons fled to the rooftop of the building across the street, shooting each other smirks the whole time.

“YOU’RE [[Legally Obligated]] TO TELL ME HOW HE REACTS TOMORROW, YOU KNOW!” Spam insisted, actually smiling for once. It had been fun for him to do something as frivolous as that again, truthfully.

Video grinned back. “Oh, man, absolutely.”

He looked out across the street and up towards the skyscrapers, enjoying the way the lights mixed together.

“HEY. YOU WANNA [Feast Your Eyes!] SOMETHING COOL?” Spamton asked suddenly.

“Uh—sure!” Vid said, eager to do just about anything Spam might suggest.

Their old friend led him on a several-block walk without elaborating. At first, Video was too nervous to even ask what was going on, but after about three minutes, they mustered up the courage to speak.

“Are we there yet?” they asked, and then immediately regretted it.

It seemed to hit well with Spamton, though, because he let out a glitchy laugh. It surprised him almost as much as it did Vid—enough to make his stride stutter briefly.

Video smiled, relief sinking into them. Maybe…maybe they could repair things after all.

Spam led them up a fire escape, then across a few rooftops to yet another ladder. Once Vid had made it to the top, they looked around and saw…nothing but bland skyscrapers.

“Why are we here?” they asked, bewildered.

“DOWN THERE, [[Wise guy]].” Spam said flatly, but he was smiling.

Vid walked to the edge of the rooftop and looked over—

—and down into a shining column of multicolored, ever shifting light.

“Whoa…” they breathed, stunned.

“THOSE [Paid Advertisements] LOOK EVEN NICER UP [[In the stratosphere]], DON’T THEY?”

“Those are—wait, is that Central Plaza?!” Video gasped. “I’ve never seen it like this before!”

“SOMETIMES YOU JUST GOTTA [Eyeball] SOMETHING A DIFFERENT WAY, AND IT’LL LOOK [[better than ever!]]” Spam said, moving to sit at the edge of the roof.

“…is that supposed to be a metaphor for something?” Vid asked, smirking.

“[Yes, no, maybe so].” Spamton muttered. “I WANTED TO SAY…I”M [[Apologies for the poor service!]] ABOUT WHAT I SAID [Way Back When] TOO. I GOT M4D WAY TOO FAST>.”

“Spam…” Video murmured, rapidly losing the ability to speak.

“YEAH?”

“I’d trash my motorbike in a hot second if I could take back everything from that day. I promise. That’s how much I wanna fix this.” they said, looking him in the eyes (as well as they could with his glasses, anyway).

Spamton stared at him. “BUT YOU [[Cherish]] THAT BIKE.”

“Not as much as I care about you.” Vid insisted.

After a long, long pause, Spam hesitantly shifted closer to Video, before leaning his head on the yellow Addi’s arm. “That…means a lot.” he said softly, his voice not glitching for once.

“I’ll say it again if you want.” Vid said, putting an arm around Spam’s shoulders and pulling him closer.

“NAH…[[One Time Only!]] ALL I NEED.” he said, turning back to look out at the city lights with his friend once again.

#deltarune #spamton #spamton g spamton #yellow addison #videon e addison #this is literally my first time ever writing any of these characters so i REALLY hope it turned out well #feel free to leave constructive criticism if you'd like!#i was hunting for fanfic of these characters a while back and came up with...absolutely nothing #so i was like GUESS I HAVE TO DO IT MYSELF THEN #anyway hope you all enjoyed #and have a great day!

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hailsatanacab · 11 months ago

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Family Dinners - dpxdc

"Holy shit, you're Bruce Wayne!" Danny gaped, jabbing a finger at the man sitting at the head of the table.

The bustling dining room goes silent as everyone turns to look at him.

"Danny, who did you think was going to be here?" Tim asks, disbelief plain in his voice and Danny feels his face flush red.

"Sorry, I, uh, I guess I just never put it together. Tim Drake-Wayne. Wayne Manor. It, uh, makes sense now." He laughs sheepishly and scrubs at his neck before slumping back down into his chair.

"Well," Tim says with an indulgent sigh, "at least I know you're not just friends with me for my connections."

"Yeah, I'm really sorry, I just never thought about it, I guess."

Danny sinks lower as everyone around him laughs. Come to dinner, he said, the food is the best, he said, ignore the family, he said. Danny really wishes he'd listened to Tim and just ignored them—almost as much as he's regretting accepting the offer in the first place—but... he's having dinner with Batman.

Ancients, that's so weird!

The last time he saw Batman was in the future and, suffice it to say, it was not going well. There hadn't really been time for family dinners there.

Wait. Family dinners?

He peers around the table, openly gawking at everyone as it all clicks into place.

"Everything alright, Danny? Now realising who everyone else is?" Tim asks with a roll of his eyes.

"Uh... something like that..." Danny mumbles as everyone laughs again.

From further down the table, the smallest Wayne scoffs and clicks his tongue.

"I thought you said he was smart, Drake?"

"So, you all do it, too, then?" he asks, ignoring the jibe. Danny's only a little bit jealous as he thinks of how much easier they must have it, how much easier it'd be if his family had been on his side, too. "You all work together?"

"Nah," Dick says from across the table with a brilliant grin. "Tim's the only one that works with Bruce, we all have different jobs. I'm a police officer in Bludhaven."

"Disgusting." Danny blurts out without thinking—because seriously, what kind of self-respecting vigilante would also be a police officer?—before clapping a hand over his mouth. "Sorry."

The whole table laughs again, the loudest being the blonde girl a few spaces down from Dick. Look, Danny wasn't really paying attention to names when they were all paraded in front of him. Dick only gets remembered because his name is a joke.

Come on, Danny, recover!

"That's, uh, not what I meant, though."

"Oh?" Dick asks, cocking his head slightly to the side. Is it Danny's imagination or does his smile tense slightly?

"Yeah, I mean like, you know, in costume. It must make it so much easier to have everyone together like this."

"Costume? What do you mean?"

Yeah, Danny's not imagining it, everyone tenses up at that. It's really only now that he's realising that this probably isn't how he should bring up that he knows about their... night time activities. In fact, he probably shouldn't be bringing it up at all.

"Uuhhh..." Danny looks wildly around the table as he continues making his stupid noise. Think, think, think! There must be a way out of this!

"Danny?" Tim asks, looking concerned.

"Oh, Ancients, this isn't how I wanted it to go at all," he mutters, slipping even further into his chair. He's almost on the floor now and he so, so wishes it could just swallow him up.

His real first meeting with Batman was meant to be cool! He had planned to be Phantom, maybe save them from a tight spot, prove his worth as a mysterious and powerful ally as thanks for the help Batman gave him in the future.

"Danny, what are you talking about?" Tim starts tugging on his sleeve in an attempt to pull him back up from his pit of despair.

Eventually, Danny relents and sits up straighter, hiding his face in his hands and whining all the while.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't expect him to be here and it threw me off so now I look stupid and it's so embarrassing!" he wails, flailing his arms wide. "Why wouldn't you warn me that Batman was your adopted dad, Tim? Couldn't you have let me know?"

"I'm sorry, what? Danny are you alright? There's no way Bruce can be Batman, look at him!"

"Yeah," the blonde girl laughs from the bottom of the table, "look at him! That's a wet noodle of a man! Batman can actually do things, B is incapable of pretty much everything."

"Thank you, Stephanie," Bruce sighs, massaging his forehead.

It's... Those are the first words Danny's heard Batman say since everything went down and it's enough to knock him out of his embarrassment.

It's really good to hear his voice again. Especially now, when it's strong and healthy and full of personality—even if that personality is little more than a tired father right now—far better than how it had been, at the end.

Danny sits up, back straight, and grins. He's got this. He remembers it perfectly. Some people count sheep to fall asleep, Danny repeats his mantra to be certain that he'll never forget it.

"Gamma alpha upsilon tau iota mu epsilon, 42, 63, 28, 1 colon 65 dash 9."

Once again, the whole table falls into silence.

"Holy shit..." breathes the other D name (Duke? Danny's pretty sure he's Signal) from opposite Stephanie. "Isn't that...?"

"The time travelling code." The littlest Wayne says stiffly. "We have met in the future?"

"That's not just the time travelling code, Dami." Dick says, looking between Danny and Bruce. "That's the family time travelling code."

Danny's grin freezes in place.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"1 colon 65 dash 9." Dick explains, still flicking between him and Bruce. "It means you've been adopted into the family and we should all treat you as such, no questions asked."

"Tell you what, I'm about to ask a question." Danny says, dumbstruck. "You just told me it was a code to identify time travellers, not anything about being adopted! What the hell, B?"

Bruce looks about as shellshocked as Danny feels.

"We must have been close," he says finally, after opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water a few times.

"No! Not that close!" Danny reels back, taking a deep breath ready to refute it all, but... "Well, I mean, you found me when I first got stuck, and you helped me get better despite being... And then we fought together against the, uh, bad guy, before he, um, he... before you couldn't."

An uncomfortable beat passes while they all pick up on what Danny tried so hard not to say.

"So, you're not from the future, then, you travelled there and came back?" Tim asks, breaking the tension and leaning forward with a glint in his eye.

"Yeah, it was a whole end of the world thing, but don't worry about it," Danny says with a hand wave, "It's all kosher now, won't ever happen."

"What did happen?"

"Seriously, don't worry about it, we cool."

"How long in the future was it?"

"About ten years? You were pretty spry for an old man, B," Danny laughs, wishing they'd get off the topic of what happened and get back to the adoption bit.

Everyone shares degrees of a cautious smile as they relax out of the shock, and Dick—whose grin is the biggest—says, "No wonder you got the family code, you're already riffing on him like one of us. How long were you there for?"

"A week, before I managed to get back to my present and stop him then."

"A week? Jeez, B, that has to set some kind of record, seriously."

"Oh!" Danny says, sitting bolt upright and blinking in surprise before pointing at Dick and bouncing in his seat. "You're Nightwing!"

"What?"

"That's exactly what Nightwing said when Batman told me the code! Makes so much more sense now."

Dick laughs and claps his hands, delighted.

"You were not formally adopted?" The grumpy small one—Dami?—asks, his face pinched.

"I didn't even know I was informally adopted."

"And your parents? Are they alive or dead?"

"Damian, stop—"

"They were dead in the future, but they're alive now." Danny says, looking down. He fiddles with the tablecloth, twisting the fabric around his fingers as he fights down the pang of sadness that he always feels when he thinks of them now. He forces a bright smile on his face and hopes it doesn’t look too strained. "I just, uh, can't talk to them much, anymore."

"Damian," Dick warns, "1 colon 65 dash 9. Treat them as family, no questions asked."

"This is Damian treating him as family, the little turd has no manners." Tim scoffs, rolling his eyes, but he gently bumps shoulders with Danny to knock him out of his funk. Danny can't help but send him a watery smile.

"I have the most exemplary manners, Drake, unlike some people." Damian spits, crossing his arms with a pout. "I was merely ascertaining his status to see how he could possibly fit into the family."

"I know this is all a bit sudden, Danny," Bruce smiles, ignoring Damian and reaching out to lay a warm hand on his arm, "for all of us. But if I felt strongly enough to give you that code after spending a week with you in the future, then you are more than welcome in this family, if you so choose it. I think I can speak for all of us when I say we'd like to get to know you a bit more."

"I know a threat when I hear it, Bruce." Danny snorts. "But, yeah, I get it. I'm sorry this is all so weird, it really wasn't how I wanted to find you again, but... I'm glad I did."

"So are we, Danny." Dick says, with a warm smile. "And formally or not, 1 colon 65 dash 9 means you're family. Welcome to the fun house! No take backs or refunds, sorry. You're stuck with us."