Chapter Text
Even if it was physically possible for Tenna to go kicking and screaming, he no longer had the energy left to attempt it.
He was told he was going to be helped, that there was still a place for him somewhere. That SURELY someone out there would want him.
Then why, oh why, was he all alone again?
The morning was a bit of a blur for him, in all honesty. He had watched as Toriel rushed Susie and Kris out the door for Saturday church service, the kids barely able to spare him a glance as silence fell over the Dreemurr household once more and he was left on his own. Even the studio was dead quiet, aside from the anxious pacing of his big footsteps up and down the halls. All his employees had left him as of last night, either by firing them himself, quitting before he could fire them, or having their contracts completely voided by the Lightners. In hindsight, it was a pretty stupid setup to begin with. He’d not make the same mistakes again. …Hopefully.
But it was all going to work out, right? Susie, the dear girl, spared him such kind words at the end of it all. She promised that there was a new home out there for him and that she and Kris would find it. What HOPE that gave him! What a JOY it was to think that there was still use for him, after all. It was a little scary, sure, but maybe this is what he needed. A new studio, a new stage, and new viewers.
When Toriel returned home, Tenna found it strange that the kids weren’t in tow. Panic began to gradually set in when she unplugged him, his whole world basically disappearing from his vision once more– or what was left of it, anyways. The cool pressure of nothingness surrounded him, his senses into the Light World muffled and cut off. He wasn’t able to see like this in the slightest, barely able to hear and feel what was going on around him. He’d grown somewhat accustomed to this state over the years he was left unplugged, like a very prolonged sleep mode that he let himself drift off into.
Now that he had gotten a taste of what it was like to be powered on and used again, going back to this was heartbreaking. Agonizing.
He had to keep reminding himself that it was only temporary. Unplugging him was just a necessary evil if it meant moving him from one home to another. He had to believe that was the case. A specific scenario was clear in his thoughts, playing out perfectly as a means of comfort for himself. Kris and Susie had taken their time to walk around town in his stead, singing praises of the wonderful TV they were giving away! And then, naturally, they had found a place for him! His new Lightner was here at the house to pick him up, and sweet, sweet Toriel was just doing the job of helping to move him. No doubt sending him off with a smile and wishing him well with his next life.
It was perfect. He had nothing to worry about, putting his full trust in such good kids. He just had to play the waiting game. And he was GREAT at games!
He could feel the vague sensation of being lifted and carried in her arms, only to be set down moments later with a rather unceremonious thud.
On the ground. On grass and dirt and-
No. No, no, nononoNO.
Was he OUTSIDE? WHY was he OUTSIDE!?
Shouldn’t he be in someone else’s arms by now? Or loaded into a car? Something NOT the ground?
Where was Susie? Where was Kris?
The void was starting to become crushing, the expanse of oppressive darkness seeming to cave in on top of him, Tenna far too self aware of his current situation. He shouldn’t be out here. He should be in a warm home. Any home. New or old, it didn’t matter. Just PLEASE bring him back inside. Please?
This couldn’t be happening. It had to be some sort of sick joke. Any second now, he’d hear Susie laugh, saying that he was fine. She and Kris only wanted to get back at him a bit for all the trouble he put them through last night. And, hey, haha- He wouldn’t blame them! He’d give a big sigh of relief and laugh along with everybody. Maybe he did deserve a little slap on the wrist, right?
…
They weren’t coming. They promised him he wouldn’t be thrown out, but no one was coming. Did they actually, really forget? They couldn’t have. Why did they forget? He was so confident that he’d be getting a second chance. They promised.
They promised.
He barely registers the flimsy weight of the tarp that gets laid over him, Toriel already gone before he can properly react. A hollow gesture at this point. His antennae hang low with deep disappointment.
He wants to be mad; he should have every right to feel betrayed. But he can only sit there in discouragement, wondering what it was he did so wrong to have things end up like this.
Tenna knows what the next step is. He’s living on borrowed time.
Maybe… Maybe it won’t be so bad? Maybe he won’t be totally crushed and destroyed. There was always a chance of being broken down for spare parts. At least that way, he could still have some kind of use. …Yeah, haha! He would be okay with that, probably! He could ease his worries with the thought that bits and pieces of him could live on, even if the whole of him didn’t. He still had SOME kind of purpose, even if it wasn’t what he originally had in mind. Haha! Ha. Ha…
Oh my god, he doesn’t want to die.
Something inside of him snaps, all his ambitions crumbling away instantly. He’s crying now. Fat, glooby tears leak from the inky black of his screen and into his gloved palms. His aching body shudders and shivers, huddled up and trying to ignore the chill seeping through his Light World selves' casing. For as much as he enjoyed the holiday season, he always hated the cold itself.
It hurts. His arms, his head, his heart. Everything feels like it's on fire and freezing over at the same time.
He’s begging out into the surrounding silence between sobs. Please, not like this. ANYTHING but this. He’d go back to staying unplugged and collecting dust in a closet if it meant he could still live. He doesn’t want to go yet. Please, PLEASE.
No matter how much he hopes for it, nobody hears him. Nobody else comes to save him.
He doesn’t know for how long he sits and cries. His internal clock is all sorts of messed up. Eventually, the tears just stop coming, leaving him still and distant.
—
Good ol’ Saturday morning. The weekend was a brief freedom from your work week, allowing you time to yourself. Time which, unfortunately, you had to spend doing errands. Thinking on it, you couldn’t really complain that much. It was nice to be able to buy whatever food you wanted and prepare it just the way you liked, even if you found yourself eating the same couple things every week. There were plenty of other things you’d eat over cup noodles for the third day in a row, but the problem stemmed from simply not having the energy to prepare proper meals. You had to settle for keeping things easy to make if it meant feeding yourself at all.
You’re fishing your car keys out of your pocket as you feel a light sprinkle begin to take over the sky, hissing through your teeth.
“Damn,” You were already anticipating rain today, given the forecast on your phone and the darkening clouds in the sky. What you weren’t exactly happy about, however, was the fact it decided to begin JUST as you were heading out for the day.
“Bad timing, I guess.” Awful luck on your part, but you suppose you could make do. You’d keep your shopping trip short and sweet with mostly the essentials, you told yourself. Then you could return home to your apartment, laze around, and enjoy the rest of the rainfall from within the confines of your cozy little abode.
You shut your car door, starting it up and sitting for a moment to fiddle with the radio settings before pulling it out of its parking space and onto the road. There’s a few other residents walking along the sidewalk on the opposite side, likely returning from some kind of church service given the few choir robes you see worn. Two of the churchgoers– teenagers, a snowdrake and a yellow lizard monster– are bickering about something you can’t hear from where you sit. The apartments grow smaller and smaller in your rearview mirror as you shift your focus to driving, officially starting your day.
You had moved into Hometown only some weeks ago. It wasn’t a perfect living situation, but it beat staying with your parents. Your feelings towards your family were complicated, to put it simply. You were still on (mostly) good terms with them, still keeping in touch with them every now and then, but it was undeniable that you were desperate to get out of there. They were supportive, for the most part, figuring it was inevitable that you’d be out on your own one day. You’d told them it was for a better work opportunity with a shorter drive and they had believed it easy, not even questioning it further.
The arguments and the yelling were taking a toll on you, exhausting you more than what could be considered healthy. Petty back and forth-ing nearly every single night, forced to sit there and listen, occasionally being pushed into taking a side... Your parents should have divorced a long time ago, truthfully.
Perhaps, then, you wouldn’t have resorted to living completely on your own in an effort to finally rid yourself of their stressful drama and nagging.
Also, it turns out your workplace was still a whole 30 minute drive away, anyways. So much for that.
You blink yourself to attention as the rain starts to drop down heavier, flicking your wipers on at a low setting. Where did you need to go again? Let’s see… Right. There was a flower shop you wanted to stop at before dealing with your groceries. Your mother had gifted you a small, potted something-or-other as a housewarming present to your new place. You don’t remember what she called it and it was still in the early stages of growth, so there was no telling what it’d blossom into. Still, having something like this helped to provide at least a minor amount of stability each day. Waking up and being reminded you had to take care of your pet plant was better than nothing.
It’d be good to treat it to something nice, perhaps. Some kind of yummy plant food or fertilizer for the tiny thing. Man, you weren’t even sure what the differences between all the different types were. You could ask whoever worked there for advice, but it’d probably be hard if you had no idea what your plant even was. Nothing was ever easy, was it?
And as if on top of it all, the universe decided to give you an extra middle finger today, reeling you straight out of your silent tangent as something big and blue smacks right into your windshield.
“Oh- Shit!” A gasp is pulled from you as the road is suddenly obscured, gripping your steering wheel tightly and moving your foot onto the brake pedal on instinct. By some saving grace, the ground isn’t yet wet enough to have you losing control and your car stops safely after an abrupt jerk forward.
Just because you and your car are unharmed doesn’t mean you’re happy, though. When you come to and recover from your frazzled temper, you see the culprit is a tarp of some kind, now caught within one of the arms of your windshield wipers.
The moment settles into a beat of stillness save for the quiet hum of your car’s engine before you let out a loud sigh, easing your foot off the brake and onto the gas in order to pull over to the side of the road.
“You gotta be kidding me…” You mumble various aggressions to yourself as you park and step out, a gust of wind greeting you and helping to explain why you were so rudely interrupted. Yeesh. The rain might not have been so heavy yet, but you hadn’t accounted for the strong winds, apparently. The tarp, stuck between the glass and a wiper, waves to you as you reach to dislodge it. Surprisingly, it gives with little effort needed, pulling free easily. A mercy towards you, like an apology if you were so inclined to see it that way.
Your head darts around to look where this thing could have even blown from, wondering if it escaped a neighbor’s yard and needed to be returned. Nearly all the yards are empty, save for the closest one to where you parked, a box-looking thing sitting out by the curb. Whatever it was, the cover in your hands was likely meant to keep it dry and intact until the trash guys came around to take care of it. A bit weird, considering people normally didn’t care if their garbage got wet or not. The only exception you could think of were disposed electronics.
Your feet are carrying you over before you know it, squinting and trying to make out the details.
Oh, wow. It WAS a TV. Someone threw out a whole entire TV! And not just any TV– A CRT, at that. You can’t estimate a manufacturing year with only a glance, but there's no denying it. It feels like it’s been eons since you last saw one of these things in person. Even most thrift stores and flea markets nowadays only had earlier flatscreen models, sets like the one in front of you effectively being phased out from anywhere that wasn’t within niche collectors’ circles.
Odd. You’re unsure what it’s doing out here. It didn’t LOOK broken. A couple of scratches and a taped up antenna, but it looked to be in still pretty good condition. …Unless something was terribly wrong internally and you were slowly getting, like, five different types of cancers just by standing here and breathing next to it. Hm.
You’ve been itching for a CRT for a while now. There were so many old games you wanted to return to and replay, even better now that you lived alone and wouldn’t have to worry about any interruptions. Indulging in your childhood sounded more and more appealing with each consecutive second that you thought about it. Yeah, you knew that emulation was always an option, but it just wasn’t the same. You wanted an excuse to break out all your old consoles to give them some use again and having a CRT display would provide the most authentic experience. Besides, these things could get expensive! Were you really about to turn down a free TV because you were afraid of getting a lil’ sick?
Your head darts around again, checking now for any other eyes on you. Like competition for this thing would suddenly run out of a bush at the last second and claim they saw it first, looking to fight you for it.
Another few seconds pass before you decide you won’t get yelled at for doing some trash picking. With the coast clear, you settle the tarp back down on top, stepping in front and preparing to lift it. Couldn’t have the rain ruining such a neat find, after all.
“Don’t mind if I do…” You wiggle your fingers playfully, getting a grip on the underside of the casing and lifting with your legs.
Ah. Right.
“Fff- Fuck, you’re heavy…!” A strained wheeze erupts from your throat, and for a second, you think your arms are going to give out. You’re doing your best to use your whole body to balance the weight out, the glass screen up against your torso while you take careful steps back to your car. You assume it’s better that if this thing DOES fall out of your arms, that it falls onto its back instead of potentially shattering the whole screen and getting pieces of glass everywhere. After a few minutes of strenuous effort, you somehow open the passenger door and get it into the seat, having to take a moment to heave a loud breath out and regain the muscle function in your biceps if it meant you still had to drive back home.
You lift the tarp a bit, staring at the TV now that you don’t have to worry about it getting wet. Damn, is it dusty. You’d definitely need to give this thing a good cleaning when you were back home. Without a second thought, you reach over, pulling the seatbelt across the front and buckling your brand new-old TV in. The errands you had planned for today are completely forgotten, your mind now occupied with a sudden new fixation.