Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Spamton dreamed of this not too long ago.

Being settled on the couch amongst his siblings, their magic a hearth fire drifting between them. The TV murmuring about baking competitions, java cookies nestled into (and staining) their carpet, his siblings soft breathing around him, that sturdy feeling of safety he’d been yearning for.

It’s been around a month, Spamton thinks, since he reunited with his brothers. And what a mess that was, just thinking about it made him cringe a bit. 

Funnily enough a lightner had been the one to rescue him. His code has been plagued by viruses for as long as he can remember- but some particular bug left him nearly immobile. Memories of blaring lights, violent thrashing and foreign faces are burned into his head.

That’s all that pops into his head too, his memory of his time on the streets tends to be shawty at best. It’s all foggy and blurred together- the Ambulances told him to expect that. 

“Memory files are fragile, if code is ever… ‘tampered’ with malfunctions with memory are bound to happen.”

Spamton gripped the hospital bed sheets tighter. “Tampered…?”

The Ambyu-Lance paused. “..Apologies, I thought you already knew. 

They flipped the pages attached to their clipboard. “Mr Addison, your code has been compromised and rewritten in multiple different places, multiple times. There was Malware downloaded onto you. We were able to clean most of it up, including that nasty virus.” 

The Ambyu-Lance met his eyes with a serious stare. “Realistically, you should be dead, best case scenario you should be insane. The fact that you are here, coherent and stable is nothing short of a miracle.”

His memory was fractured but the pieces weren’t hard to put together. He remembers how it felt to be demented, unhinged, hungry and so terribly lonely. He remembers dragging himself out of trash bins. He remembers savoring the gush of warm air he’d feel as he crept into the mansion. He remembers the craving for NEO’s sacred glow.

Neo…

Breath  

He breathed. 

It was okay now, he and his siblings made up, Mike couldn’t reach him anymore and he could think for himself. Spamton focused his mind on how the sofa felt beneath him and counted his breaths- it’s a technique that Flash of all people taught him. Spamton never imagined the reckless second youngest brother to be the one with grounding techniques. ..Come to think of, Flash probably benefits from knowing them.

Slowly tension he didn’t know was there leaked out of him as he sunk down in his spot between Payton and Popup. 

His eyelids felt heavy, so he let them slide shut.

It felt nice.

————-

There was a noise from outside

Something quiet…singing,-? 

No.

Ringing…….? 

Ringing, his phone, 

At night….?

.

.

It was distracting, was it getting louder?

….did they even have a phone …?

Begrudgingly he peeled his eyes open. The TV now off let the cool chill of a Castle Town night drape over the room. He then checked on his siblings who were thankfully still there, just sleeping. 

He pushed himself up with a huff. The sound, definitely ringing, was getting louder- and it was driving him crazy. He’d have to stop it if he wanted to sleep tonight.

Now feeling more awake he knew it wasn’t real. He’s done this song and dance before. The phantom ringing was just.. another part of his daily routine. Eventually the sound only he could hear would start digging into his brain, straining it until he was forced to answer. Or at least follow it to its ‘source’. Finding whatever empty space of air the sound radiated from and proving to his brain that it wasn’t real.

Spamton clamored off the couch with little struggle and began his trek.  Dutifully ignoring the tightening of his chest as he crept along the dark hallway. 

Weirdly he felt like he was doing something illegal. Like he was prowling his way into the mansion's basement or getting ready for a shady deal. Shaking his head, Spamton pulled his hand away from where it clung to the wall. He was determined to stop this paranoia. He lived here for Christ's sake! He could go anywhere he wanted.

He had to remind himself of that more and more as he grew closer to the patio door. Made of glass, the sliding door was the only thing keeping the night ( and the ringing) out. Nobody remembered to draw the curtains.

Despite Castle Town not having a moon, the bleaching light stained the floor around him. Part of him screamed to leave and just deal with the ringing but a stronger, smarter part of him said he was just paranoid. Spamton knows how to make it stop, so he’s going to stop it. He moved past the dread pooling in his stomach as he reached for the door. His hand trembled- never a good sign. But he was just paranoid, it’s not real. His phone has long since been destroyed. He just needed to see it for himself. Then, he could sleep and put all of this behind him.

He stepped out, and the sound didn’t stop. 

Not here, then.

That’s okay, it’s close. He can tell. He just needs to find it. He just needs to answer it and then he can go to bed. 

Spamton pushed towards their backyard, following the ringtone. He crept off the stone patio, bypassing the tables and chairs into the palatinate grass that seemed to tremble around him. The noise conducted him about the Addison household’s sidings and off onto the sidewalk. 

He grew more antsy by the second. It wasn’t normally this difficult, he should have found his phone by now. He should’ve answered by now. He has to find the phone. It won’t be happy with him if he takes much longer. 

He doesn’t know how long he was walking for, but the next thing he knew he was standing on a street corner. The ringing inside his head was unbearably loud now. He was close.

Then he saw it. The phone, his phone , was there. Illuminated under the flickering streetlight. But as soon as he blinked it was gone, taking the ringing with it.

He screwed his eyes shut, rubbing his head to try and get the fog settled in it to go away. The ringing always made it hard to think, and the longer he took to stop his delusions the worse it got. He needed to focus to get home.

Focusing on his messy brain, he didn’t hear the stranger approaching.

The attack was abrupt.

Spamton was just getting his bearings when he yanked into the air by his collar and pulled against some stranger's chest. They broke into a sprint. He only wasted a second freezing before he began to thrash in their grip. But he wasn’t strong enough, he barely affected them. Breath, god dammit! It wasn’t working. Why wasn’t it working? But he knows why. He was a small, weak darkner now. He couldn’t defend himself in this state. The cleanup of his code stole away any previous glitchy powers he had. He should’ve known something like this would happen. He should’ve known it’s dangerous. He shouldn’t have gone outside .

His attacker stopped their sprint in some alleyway, holding him aloft in front of them as they caught their breath.

“Damn… it’s actually you. The Spamton G spamton!” Their words were paired with a bewildered laugh. They seemed delighted. “And what are the chances? I woulda thought you’d be dead by now.”

Spamton grimaced.

“H HEY THERE! …[[you]]!” Spamton grasped at where the stranger- A werewire- gripped his collar. This is fine- he’s been here time and time again. He thought he left this behind . He knew how to handle this. Spamton studied their face trying to figure out what warranted this. He had a lot of enemies, he had no clue who this one was. 

“L… [[LO NG TIM3 NO SEE!]]?” Spamton offered his award losing smile.

The werewire only yanked him closer. Humming as they studied him. They looked almost.. disgusted. “Yeash. How the mighty have fallen.” They muttered.

The werewire jabbed a clawed finger into his chest. “You really don’t remember our deal do ya, bigshot?”

Spamton winced, curling up as much as he could while being dangled. “…[[FILE LOST]]”

“The Keygen. That you stole .”

Ah.

That- this wasn’t good. The people he scammed for that Keygen are not ones you want to mess with. Ever. He cursed his past self (as he so often does) for pulling this shit. 

One of the things he remembered better was this deal in particular. They called themselves Tor, a powerful dark web group with a reputation of not letting anything slide. How he managed to steal a Keygen from them is beyond him. It made sense that they’d eventually catch up. Having let a puny glitchy Addison steal from them is more than embarrassing. 

Okay, so they want revenge. An example! They want to scare off others from trying the same thing.  He can deal with this.

…

Oh god he’s gonna die. 

Ignoring his dawning horror, the werewire swung Spamton around a little bit. “Hey, hey! No hard feelings! Believe me, I know how it is. It’s hard out here!” They faked empathy, a mockery of kindness rotting their words. 

Softly they tilted his chin up, forcing him to meet the warewire head on. “..All you gotta do is pay up, and make up for the time you’ve kept it of course. No biggie!”

Words failing him more than usual, he just shook his head. He didn’t have that kinda money. And he couldn’t imagine dragging his brothers into this. It’s dangerous, for their safety and for their reputation.

“What, ya don’t wanna pay? Boss won’t like that y’know…” They paused and tightened their grip on him to a painful amount.

“And I’d hate for you to get hurt.”

He can’t breathe.

The pain broke him out of his stupor. Spamton began to thrash and scratch at their hands. Static and glitches sputtering around him. “I’LL [[Buy now!]] I’LL [[ PUR CHAS3]]!! [[Hands off the merchandise!]] I JUST NEED [[a moment of your time, sir?]]”

The werewire looked a bit disgusted, holding him farther away from him. “Blegh- the hells wrong with you!?”

Unfortunately for the werewire, this closed the distance between Spamton and the dumpster behind him. In his panic he grabbed the first thing behind him, a bottle, and launched it right into the werewire’s stupid face.

The glass satisfyingly shattered on them and they recoiled with a howl. Spamton being tossed to the ground in the process. He scrambled for purchase against the dirt before shooting into a run. 

“[[ A  H HAHEHAEHAEHAHA]]” A laugh bubbled out of his throat. That’s more like it! Serves them right trying to mess with THE Spamton G. Spamton! 

He grinned, full on smiling like he hadn’t in a while. Part of him missed this, not being homeless and starving or being insane of course- but the exhilaration. His heart pounding as he got away with something. Racing through the alleyways twists and turns and sliding around obstacles only he could get through. He was Spamton G. Spamton and he could make his way out of any situation! The giddy excitement was addicting.

It was fun .

Until he heard running behind him. 

Shit shit shit 

As the adrenaline wore off, he noticed that he was in pain, actually. Everything hurt, especially the arm he landed on. And his worn out legs were protesting against this abuse.

He’d almost forgotten that he wasn’t as healthy as he once was. His sickness from months prior still clung to him even as he recovered with his siblings.

And he could hear them catching up on him oh god no he can’t get caught now-

He tripped.

Dread filled him as he tried to push himself up but realized he couldn’t . His hurt arm sparked with pain at any attempt. His breaths came in short puffs as the running, now more of a walk, meandered towards him. Toying with him.

Breath

there’s got to be something- 

Again he was lifted from the ground. This time by the back of his shirt. 

“You’re a slippery little thing, arentcha? The werewire sneered. They didn’t even sound out of breath. 

They lifted him up, almost above themselves. Spamton could see the glass still stuck in them, bleeding.  “I’d say no hard feelings, but….”

 Breath!

“I’d be lying.”

Spamton yanked the wire attached to the werewire’s head towards him and bit down. Hard. 

The move was risky as hell, but it was this or lie down and take whatever Tor has in store for him. And he doesn’t just lie down . Spamton fights tooth and nail to the last second. 

Payton must’ve lied to him growing up because biting definitely worked. The wire keeping his attacker in their stronger form snapped away and the original plugboy fell to the ground. Spamton, of course, fell too. But his life was worth the starts in his vision.

Werewires are big , intimidating darkners with much more strength than he has. But a Plugboy? They’re small. Not too much bigger than he is. And small meant vulnerable, small meant weak. 

He could take a Plugboy.

But suddenly he was jerked up by the plugboy and splintered against the wall. 

“You asshole! ”

Pain blossomed all around his head. Black spots writhed in his vision. 

breathe- 

He was bashed into the wall again. 

A small whine escaped him. It hurt. It felt like a multi on burning needles were being dug into his brain. A metallic taste invaded his mouth and something- tears-? pricked in his eyes. He tried to grab something- anything- but it was no use.

He crashed into the wall again. The pain was numbed the third time. Something was ringing again. His arms- he has arms. But they were pinned. Something was strangling them, keeping them pressed to his sides.

It hurt it hurt it hurt

Brea….

help

.

.

.

.

Spamton had fallen into a daze. 

Distantly, he knew he should keep struggling, keep fighting. Spamton G. Spamton doesn’t just lie down and take things. But.. it hurt, a lot. Everything hurt. And letting himself be carried off by this stranger meant the hurt stopped. If only for a little.

More distantly he knew that allowing himself to be taken away was only securing more hurt. But he couldn’t.. he couldn’t do anything about that anyway. He was small.

The Plugboy was small too.

At some point he shuffled shuffled against the pink arm wrapped around him, testing if maybe he could escape. But the grip only tightened until-

Hurt hurt hurt hurt-  

It was best not to fight it. He couldn’t fight it because they’d hurt him if he did.

So he didn’t. 

————-

Swatch didn’t mind cleaning duty, no not at all really.

It was structured and satisfying, they found the circular washing of dishes calming and relaxed at the sight of freshly mopped floors. The hushed Castle Town nights as the dinner rush eases out were welcomed by them. Cleaning was meditative to Swatch. So they allow the swatchlings to return home as they deal with any messes.

Setting plates back into their cupboard, they smiled. Swatch had always dreamt of having their own restaurant- one under nobody’s rule but their own. Of course, having been working under Queen, such a dream had to stay as just that. A dream.

But now, with their fountain sealed the swatchlings and them were relinquished of such duty’s. They were finally able to make their dream a reality.

Pleased with the state of their restaurant they secured a bag from the trash can and headed out to the garbage area. When they saw something, someone , most peculiar.

“…Spamton..?”

Spamton G. Spamton, self proclaimed BigShot and resident nuisance of the Mansion, was there, like he’d been many a time before back in cyber city. However today he had company, a plugboy was there. Holding Spamton with one arm like a football. 

Of all the ways they’d seen the small Addison this had to be the most bizarre.

Blinking out of their rather intense deja vu they recognized that the plugboy looked rather scraped up. And spamton…

Was that…

Blood?

They looked to the Plugboy, who seemed to be scanning for a direction to run in. Unfortunately for them the alleyway was a dead end. “..Apologies for the interruption. You- you look injured.” 

The poor thing backed up a bit. Swatch realized they’d have to change their approach. Seeing the plugboy in such a sorry state saddened them. And although they didn’t particularly like Spamton, they’d once considered him a friend. They couldn’t leave him like ..that.

They lowered down on one knee, trying to appear as less of a threat. 

“Please, allow me to help you.” 

Chapter Text

Never had Spamton been so happy to see Swatch. 

They were saying… something. That didn’t matter. He needed them to help him. They’d help him, right?

He had to assume so.

Spamton instantaneously writhed. Kicking his legs and twisting himself with the little energy he had left. He glitched violently, static blocks flashing all around him while the Plug Boy struggled to keep their hold on him

“[[S TANG3R DANGER]ER]]-  [ [[ H HELP]]!!!!!”

Evidently Swatch got the message of “ no, this Plugboy is not my friend and I’m in danger please help me” because suddenly everyone was moving.

The plugboy swore under their breath and jeered away from the butler. Who only followed and reached for them again. It became a sort of cat and mouse dance. Twisting and diving around each other until The Plugboy ran into the color cafe with spamton in tow. 

Pushing and shoving through Swatches kitchen they knocked down whatever they could as they went. Successfully slowing Swatch down.

They hurdled around the counter and coasted under the table. Lunging for the door handle and-

Locked.

Spamton, with his thoughts muddled and everything aching felt a spark of hope. Only for a second, though. Because before he knew it they’d spun around and summoned a bullet to his neck.

The Plugboy, completely out of breath, gasped between words. “sStay back- stay back or the fucking.. fucking little guy gets it!”

Swatch stilled, hands still hovering in the air. A twinge of fear was quickly covered with unnerving calm, the same attitude they held with rowdy customers. "I'm asking you to release my friend.” 

Friend? Did…. Swatch see him as a friend?

“Back against the wall. Now!” They ignored Swatch. Opting to keep fumbling with the handle. 

Now it was Swatch’s turn to ignore someone. . “The door is locked. You cannot exit without the key. Please, dismiss your attack. We can end this peacefully.” 

In a flash Spamton felt a piercing pain in his hand. He felt nauseous, without have the energy to struggle he could do nothing. Nothing to block out the screaming. Why were they screaming?

Oh, he was screaming.

Huh.

With his blurred vision he could see swatch had backed against the wall. And that they were slowly moving again. And that there was a Swatching approaching from behind.

Wait, a Swatching?

In a Flash, the hero in red slammed a frying pan into the Plugboy. Finally they both fell limp against the ground.

“Crimson!?” Swatch yelped.

“Boss!! Master Spamton!!” They let out a soft yet tender scream. “Goodness gracious I’m ever so sorry! We were just worried, you were late!  And then I saw this and you seemed so scared and I acted on impulse and I’m so sorry!” They rambled and jittered with their feathers all puffed up.

Spamton hear rushed could hear footsteps racing towards him. “No! No- Crismon you were brilliant I cannot thank you enough! You made the right move! Call- call Tasque Manager! I’ll call the Ambyu-Lances”

A weight was lifted off spamton. Blurry reds, whites and blacks moved above him. Something touched him, and he flinched away. But it was soft, and warmer than he was. So he leaned into it. His head hurt. 

Something in Spamton relaxed, and he let the sounds and colors drain away. Eyes fluttering shut.

————-

Payton was inconsolable, ever since they realized they were missing their littlest brother the orange Addison had been losing it. Frantically searching every nook and cranny of their home.

They’d just finished ransacking the last baby-brother-sized cabinet they had and there was still no sign of him. 

“No, no no Spam where are you, where are you! He’s not here! Why isn’t he here! ” They shouted miserably to Banner, who had joined with Payton in scanning their property. While Flash and Popup searched the town.

Banner, who was holding it together decidedly better than the oldest Addison, rested their hands on Payton’s shoulders. “ Breath Pays! breath- it’ll be okay... and yeah he’s not here.”

Payton made a wounded noise.

Banner backtracked. “But we’ll find him! He couldn’t have gone far, he probably just.. wanted some fresh air and got distracted.” 

But it was clear that even Banner didn’t really believe that. Spamton hadn’t been exactly eager about going outside since they found him and when he did go outside it was never alone.

He always seemed… scared. 

Payton wiped away the tears that’d been building in their eyes, taking deep breaths. “Yeah, yeah.. sorry.”

They stood up, dusting themselves off and putting on a brave face. “Let’s join Flash and Popup in town.”

The blue addison offered a smile in return.

Payton grumbled. They were trying to focus on grabbing searching supplies but their phone was being incredibly distracting. All of the addisons had done the unthinkable today, they took off work. Never mind it being unprofessional- finding their brother was far more important. Payton’s customer clearly didn’t get the memo because they kept calling.

Begrudgingly, Payton picked up the phone. 

“Sorry! We’re closed today”

“Wiat- Spamton!?!? You found him!? oh my god ..”

“ Yes, yes of course! I’ll be there! I’m already on my way. Thank you!”

Payton hung up and raced down stairs yelling up to Banner. “Banner! Ban, call the others! Someone found him!”

The Addison in question choked. “What!? Where is he!?”

“The hospital”

————-

Beep……. Beep……. Beep…….

Spamton grumbled, pushing the pillow to cover his head. 

Beep……….Beep……….Beep……..

What’s with these irritating noises keeping him from sleeping? His head throbbed against his skull. Too loud.

Beep………Beep…….

He reached over to slam his hand down on his alarm clock, only for it to clear the empty space beside him. He attempted to open his eyes, but the white lights around him were blinding. 

He resigned himself to his fate, ignoring the strange beeping and the new, distant sounds of yelling. 

Why were they yelling…?

He brought an arm up to shade his eyes and in the process he felt something- strings attached to his wrist .

He bolted up in bed and yanked at the lime strings digging into his wrist. Which was difficult, seeing as his other arm was.. wrapped up…? He then realized they weren’t strings oh him but... an IV.

…Where was he….?

Disregarding his pulsing headache Spamton took in the room. The bed, not his couch , under him was plush and cool. There were fluorescent lights embedded above him, illuminating the stark white white room to be impossibly bright. The uniformity was only broken up by his fading gray hair and small blue accents dotted around. 

A hospital.

The beeping, he found, could be attributed to the machine looming next to him, all sorts of numbers he didn’t know the meaning of being displayed. 

But the yelling…?

Who goes through yelling in a hospital??

“-brother!? I want to see my brother!”

Spamton gawked. Flash???  

He really Shouldn’t be surprised. Flash means well, but it’s just like him to cause a scene in a hospital. Especially if it’s for one of his siblings. Something in Spamton warmed hearing that passion was for him .

“Sir, you have to calm down! He isn’t ready for visitors yet!”

Spamton peeled off the other stri- wires attached to him and slipped out of the bed. A big mistake, because he was greeted with a wave of nausea as soon as his feet hit the ground. His head spun and crackled with pain and the world slid out in front of him. 

“No! You have to let me see him!”

He caught himself with his back against the bed. Breath . Then he pushed himself up, walked over to the door and opened it with his free arm.

He couldn’t help but snicker at Flash, who was busy wrestling against an Ambyu-Lance. And when Flash saw him frustration evaporated from his expression, replaced by something else. Something spamton couldn’t place. 

“Spamton!”

“Mr Addison, back in bed!” The Ambyu-Lance barked.

Spamton flinched at the doctor’s order. And quickly moved back from the door.

Flash glared at the doctor, just about ready to kick some doctor ass when more shouts joined their chorus.

Popup came and ran right past both Flash and the doctor, earning an offended “Hey!” From both of them.

Popup slid to her knees as she reached Spamton, who was standing there like a lost Tasque. He hesitated, but placed his hands on Spamton’s shoulders. A multitude of emotions passed by her face as she took in his condition.

“Shit.. Spam, can I hug you?”

Spamton nodded, and Popup gently pulled him into a firm hug. Still careful not to jostle his casted arm.

The Ambyu-Lance must’ve given up, because Flash came running in shortly after. His expression flipped from enraged to concerned as soon as Spamton made eye contact. 

Spamton watched his yellow brother breath deeply for a minute before kneeling down and joining in their hug.

“What happened..?” Popup finally muttered into Spamton’s hair. And like she feared the answer he asked “did someone do this to you..?”.

He asked that last time, too.

And Spamton only but his tongue. He couldn’t… you don’t tell people about Tor. That only paints a bigger target on your back. As if his could get any bigger. 

But his siblings weren’t on their radar and he’d prefer to keep it that way. This was a grave he dug for himself and he’d have to deal with it. Even if it hurt. Even if he was scared.

He’s terrified.

Flash must’ve noticed his hesitation, because he backed out of the huh a bit to look Spamton in the eye. “C’mon Spams, I can’t kick ass if I don’t know who’s ass needs kicking.”

Popup elbowed Flash, earning an indignant noise from the yellow Addison. “You don’t need to tell us anything right now.” 

“Yeah” Flash seconded. “We’ve got time.”

Then the pink Addison paused, narrowing his eyes at Flash “What’d you do to Dr. Norton.”

————-

“I’m so sorry for their actions, that was highly inappropriate of them” Payton spoke sweetly, pulling out all the sales tricks to placate the disgruntled doctor. A talent of theirs that  never ceased to inspire Spamton. 

“Please, let me offer you some coupons? It’s the least I can do.”

Dr. Norton, who’d been locked out of this section of the hospital, eventually let out a sigh. She unfolded her arms with a slight shake of her head. “That’s alright, I understand that this was a.. peculiar circumstance.”

Popup and Flash sat bashfully in the corner, as anyone would be after being scolded by an exasperated Payton, teased by Banner and berated by a rightfully peeved doctor. Only Banner joined Spamton on the bed, where he leaned against the blue Addison’s arm.

Dr. Norton whipped her head back to Popup and Flash. “But you pull a stunt like this again and I won’t let you off so easily, alright?”

“Yes Ma’am!”

“Of course!”

Her expression softened and Dr. Norton resumed her professional tone. 

“Now with that settled,” she walked over to Spamton’s bed and studied the strange number machine. “How are you feeling, Mr Addison?”

Spamton unconsciously clung a bit closer to Banner, who squeezed his shoulder in return. 

“B ET [[better than ever!]]-“ 

Breath  

“BETTER, H3AD HUrts” 

Dr. Norton hummed in response, jotting some things down on her clipboard. “That’s to be expected, you had a rather serious concussion and a fractured arm.”

She gave him a gentle smile. “We’ve healed your arm fully, but you still have a minor concussion. So you’ll want to stay home for at least a week. Try to avoid bright screens.”

She turned to Payton, handing them a bag. “Here is some pain medication, and a standard firewall boost for while he recovers.”

Payton nodded, and folded it into their hand bag. 

“Your HP is above 75% now, so you’re allowed to go home,” She clasped her hands together. “However, Mr Spamton, Tasque Manager would like to speak to you about what happened first.”

Spamton sputtered. Not a chance! He hasn’t seen Tasque Manager since he was breaking into the mansion and he liked it that way, thank you very much. 

Not to mention snitching gave more reasons for Tor to….

He glanced at his arm.

…

“Spam?” Banner nudged him.

“[[A ]! [[R3QU3ST  D ENIED]]! THERES NOT MUCH TO [[Walk and talk]] 4BOUT. AHAE.” He stared deliberately not at his siblings, curling up slightly as to hide himself.

Nice shoes clacked against the ground, Payton’s shoes, handmade, as the orange Addison approached. The bed dipped down with them and Banner scooted over to make room.

He felt hands wrap his own, and couldn’t help but to look up at Payton. 

“Breathe Spams, it’s okay.”

He didn’t realize that he was shaking until then, or how frantic his breaths had gotten.

Payton pulled their baby brother against their chest in a gentle hug. And spamton let them, although he didn’t hug back. He just stared, biting his mouth shut.

“..It must’ve been scary, what happened. But I’ve got you now. You’re safe, we’ll protect you.”

They brushed down his hair. “And whatever it is that’s stopping you from telling, we’ll handle it.”

Spamton gripped their shirt, finally and desperately hugging back with one arm. “..You’ll get hurt ” He whispered.

Payton squeezed Spamton back, and paused for a second. “Yeah, we might, but it won’t be one of us alone. We’re stronger together, so even if we do get hurt we’ll be okay. I promise.”

The orange Addison leaned back from the hug, switching into their customer service voice and speaking with a cheeky grin. “It’s an offer you can’t ignore!”

Catching on, Banner piped in. “A deal just for you, and you only!”

Flash sprung into his view. “And you’ll get fifty percent off on your next purchase!!” 

“And how much do you ask? For free! You heard it right! For free! Limited time offer!”

Spamton snickered, trying to hide his laugh with his hand. God, he loved his siblings.

Payton’s smile softened. “Sooo… do we have a deal?”

Letting out a small snicker, he returned his family’s warm smiles. Warm fuzziness spreading in his chest, he couldn’t help but trust them. He couldn’t help but feel safe with them. 

“[[DEAL]]”