Chapter Text
Winter remained in portions over the months. Along streets, in the chill of hospital corridors, and in the stiffness that never left Tenna's arms, no matter how many therapy sessions he went through. Snow went to slush, slush to rain, and the city gradually returned to life. And, through it all, Channelle always came back.
Sometimes she only had an hour between shifts at Merrin's bookstore, her coat still damp and her fingers covered with ink. Other times, she stayed long enough to watch the sun set through the window, the glow of Castle Town flickering on as stars claimed their place in the sky. She was the one who brought Tenna back in when his shoulder locked up unexpectedly in early spring, worry in her voice despite her steady hands. She returned weeks later when the tremors returned, which the doctors described as minor but worrying enough to warrant another prolonged stay. Tenna hated the backwards progress. Channelle hated seeing him pretend it didn't bother him.
By late spring, the hospital room felt familiar in a way that neither of them wanted to notice. The employees knew them by name. Tone and Clara rotated in when Channelle was unavailable, remaining steadfast as ever, though Tenna rarely needed them to hover. He got through most days on his own. And when he didn't; when buttons, cups, or persistent pain let him down, Channelle was already there, filling the space with quiet competence and presence.
Whatever fractures once existed between them had gradually knitted themselves back together.
They didn't rush, but her touch rested longer on his arm. His voice softened when he said her name. She sat closer now, close enough that their shoulders brushed, close enough that the warmth felt intentional again.
~
She arrived later than usual. Tenna noticed the bright and barely contained energy emanating from Channelle before she had time to set her bag down. She didn't even sit before blurting out, “Ant! You won't believe the news I have!”
He looked up from the papers in his lap, his screen brightened with curiosity. “News?”
“The publisher got back to me,” she exclaimed. “The one that Ralsei mentioned. And—they want to move forward with my book!” The words fell out of her, breathless and still in disbelief. “They loved it. They want to go over contracts, editors, and—”
Tenna lurched forward, breaking into laughter before she could finish. “No way!” His voice jumped an octave, filled with sheer, undiluted excitement. A scarlet blossom emerged from the tip of his nose. “That's incredible—no, that's phenomenal!”
Clara, who had been quietly organizing something on the couch, hardly turned when Tenna threw his arms around Channelle and tried to lift her like he used to after a successful show.
Channelle flinched, “Ant, wait—”
Too late.
His shoulders produced a piercing mechanical click in mid-spin, and he yelped as gravity reclaimed them both. They collapsed onto the couch near Clara, breathless and laughing. “Ow!” Tenna rasped and clutched his shoulder. “Why didn't you stop me?”
“You dork,” Channelle wheezed, wiping the tears from her screen. She was laughing too hard to give a proper scolding. “Your doctor is going to ban me from visiting if you've set yourself back again.”
“Oh my goodness,” Clara shouted, moving forward, equally terrified and exhausted. “Ant Tony Tenna, I swear—do you want to stay here longer?”
Tenna grinned through the pain, fully unrepentant. “And miss a moment to give her a showstopping hug as congratulations?” He spoke proudly. “It was worth it!” He winced sharply, gripping his other shoulder. “... a little worth it…!”
Clara squeezed the bridge of her nose. “Unbelievable…”
Channelle nodded, smiling, “completely impossible.” She remained next to him, excitement still pulsing beneath her shell. “I'm scared,” she admitted suddenly. “But in a good way! People are going to actually read it. With my name on it. Not rewritten, and certainly not credited to anyone else.”
Tenna watched her while she spoke, the way her hands moved and the trembling in her voice. He had seen her happy before, but not like this. Never before was it so open. Another blossom escaped from his nose. “I've never seen you like this,” he remarked softly. “I like this kind of happy on you.”
She looked at him with a sparkling screen. “Thank you. Thank you for believing in me. And for reminding me that I was still capable of achieving this.”
He shook his head, “I barely did anything!”
“You did! You encouraged and listened to me. You provided me far more support than I ever expected.”
He grinned, but it was more meaningful than his old showman's grin. “I was merely a jester serving my purpose.” He paused and tilted his head thoughtfully. “But you were never a maid. You were always the hero in your own story.”
The words shocked her into silence. Emotion swelled too quickly for her to control. She leaned forward and held him tightly, placing her forehead on his screen for a fleeting, precious moment. “I love you,” she whispered.
Tenna responded quickly and softly, “I know. And I love you, too. More than words can describe…” He cupped the side of her CRT with a trembling palm.
Clara turned away. Just enough to hide her quivering lip as she rummaged through her handbag, retrieving a tissue, then another when the first proved insufficient. She dabbed at her screen, chuckling quietly to herself under her breath. “Oh, don't mind me,” she said in a husky voice. “I am just—It's been a long winter.”
Channelle noticed right away. She smiled at her and straightened up as if something else had just occurred to her. “Oh, actually” she tapped her coat pocket, “that reminds me. I almost forgot this!”
Tenna tilted his head, “Forgot what?”
She reached in and took out a small cream-colored envelope, handling it carefully. She held it between her fingers, smiling to herself. “This is for you,” she said, presenting it to him. “Lanino and Elnina asked me to give it to you personally.”
“Asked you—?” He carefully took it and turned it over before opening it. When the significance dawned on him, his screen dimmed slightly, then brightened again when he let out a gasp. “A wedding invitation? They... invited me?”
Channelle nodded. “They did! And—” she hesitated, clearly amused, “they wanted you on the groom's side of the aisle. Provided you get your butt out of the hospital by July.”
Tenna chuckled softly at first, but it cracked halfway through when his own emotions caught him off guard. He looked down at the card, his thumbs caressing the edges carefully. “They're finally doing it,” he smiled. “My stars of the weather. After so many years…” Tenna stared up at Channelle with a timid expression. “And you? Will you be… sitting with Elnina's side?”
Her shoulders lifted in a slight shrug. “Actually—no. I'm a bridesmaid! With Sirenna. We've been helping Elnina's step-sister with preparations.”
His brows rose in surprise. “You?”
She laughed, “I know. Me.”
“That's incredible,” he said, sincerity outweighing surprise. “You'll be great up there!”
“They considered having you by Lanino, but there wasn’t room anymore when all his brothers wanted to be up there.”
Tenna paused, “Brothers? Plural?”
“Oh, yes,” Channelle laughed. “Apparently, Lanino is the youngest of eight.”
‘Eight?!’ Tenna huffed a laugh, “Of course, the moon has so many siblings!”
Clara chuckled, “bright enough to go around!”
Tenna folded the invitation carefully and placed it among his belongings. ‘July,’ he pondered. More of a reason to get well fast. Channelle gently grasped his hand, mindful of her grip. “You'll be there, we'll make sure of it.”
He looked at her and nodded, “I believe you.” Outside, the light changed as afternoon slowly started its transition to evening. Clara excused herself shortly after, giving them privacy with a knowing smile and a final swipe at her cheeks. Tenna returned to his hospital bed, the invitation safely at his side, his heart full. A wedding, a book, and a wonderful summer ahead. With Channelle and all of their friends—their family. For the first time in a long time, he didn't feel the need to question if anyone at the studio still wanted him around. Or they liked him in the first place. Despite everything, they invited him to important events in their lives! He couldn't be happier. Happier for them.
Her dress was a stunning pastel blue, unlike anything she had ever imagined herself wearing. It was down to her calves, light enough to dance in the gentle breeze that blew through the open windows, carrying the aroma of summer blossoms and fresh-cut grass. Long dresses just weren't her style. Standing in front of the mirror, smoothing down the fabric and adjusting the curl in her right antenna, Channelle almost looked like she belonged at her own wedding.
Almost.
“Alright,” she said to her reflection, amused, “let's go see a bride.” The small dressing tent was brimming with enthusiastic conversation and anxious laughter. Elnina stood resplendent in the midst of the commotion, a cascade of pale gold and white lace that shimmered in the morning light, her veil hung softly over her shoulders as if it, too, couldn't stand to conceal the excitement on her face. “Lanino's not going to know what hit him.” Channelle remarked softly as she approached, her lips lifting with genuine warmth. “You’re practically glowing.”
Elnina let out a half-laugh, half-sob, and the entire room sprang into motion. “No—no—no—not again!” Sirenna was the first to react, swooping in with a tissue and flapping it in front of Elnina's face as if she were repelling a demon. “We just fixed the eyeliner! This is attempt number three! Do you want to look like you've been crying through before the vows?”
“I c-can't help it!” Elnina whimpered, pressing the tissue against the corners of her eyes, her mouth quivering uncontrollably. “I'm just—I'm so happy!”
“Happy is great, tears are not,” Sirenna quipped, carefully wiping away tears with the tissue. Shade contributed his own commentary from beside Elnina, a sequence of smooth, witty saxophone notes that managed to sound both agreeable and amusing. He was dressed in his own black and white suit, which stood out against his mauve skin and small cat ears, which no one saw very often considering that he always wore that signature Shadowguy fedora.
Channelle snorted. “Save the waterworks for the reception, okay?” Her heart soared as the entire room burst out laughing, including Elnina through her hiccupping gasps. She looked around the room; Sirenna snarking amusingly, Shade worrying over Elnina's dress details, and a few other bridesmaids smiling happily. They weren't just colleagues anymore, they hadn't been for a while. They were family, something she never imagined she'd have. And now, on a beautiful summer morning beneath a sky so blue it didn’t look real, she was witnessing one of them start a new chapter of her life.
She'd never felt more at peace.
“Alright, alright,” Channelle carefully straightened the veil and smoothed a strand of curly hair from Elnina's face. “Take a deep breath. Today is going to be amazing. And we'll make certain that if Lanino fumbles up there, he’ll never forget it.”
Elnina laughed and nodded through her tears. “Thank you, really. For being here.”
“Nina, I wouldn't miss this for the world.”
As visitors took their places under strings of gentle white lights and weather-themed banners wafting in the breeze, the music outside began to stir. The first blossoms of hydrangea and jasmine curled towards the sun, framing the aisle like a storybook painting. And as the bridal party gathered near the door, bouquets in hand, grins shared, hearts pounding with anticipation, Channelle allowed herself to take in the moment. The warmth, the laughter, the life.
The soothing hum of a quartet wafted through the garden, each melody blending into the warm breeze. Sunlight poured through the branches overhead, dappling the aisle with shimmering gold, while paper lantern clusters swayed softly from the pergola beams. The flower-trimmed path was lined with rows of white chairs, their borders adorned with delicate ivy and blossoms in Elnina's favored blue and cream colors. At the far end of the aisle, a floral arch rose high over the altar, interlaced with ribbons, weather vanes, and tiny silver charms shaped like clouds and raindrops, a lighthearted tribute to the bride and groom's shared love of the sky. Beyond it, a light haze lingered over the horizon, and the world fell still as the ceremony began.
Channelle took her place among the other bridesmaids, her dress brushing against her knees and her hands neatly folded in front of her. Elnina stood opposite Lanino beneath the archway, radiant and trembling with joy. The bride's veil reflected the light like morning mist, and she continued dabbing fiercely at the corners of her eyes, much to the annoyance of Sirenna, who hissed; “Don't you dare cry again!” under her breath. The officiant had to pause to allow the ripple of laughing to subside before proceeding. Channelle's gaze drifted across the altar to the crowd, and landed solidly on him.
Tenna.
There he was, sitting between his parents, and awfully close to Lanino's many brothers, all of whom appeared to be too identical to distinguish. Most of the men or more masculine guests wore some kind of silver, except for Tenna, who had swapped his bowtie for his signature yellow tie that stood out against the rest. The suit itself was exceptionally designed, considerably more polished than anything she'd ever seen him wear before, but still undoubtedly him. And when his glance met hers, the entire ceremony appeared to still. The corners of his lips relaxed into that old smile, and he raised his hand in a little, unobtrusive gesture across the way. Channelle's lips curled up involuntarily, her heart skipping as she reciprocated the wave, far more subdued than the giddy flutter it elicited within her.
From there, the vows were made; beautiful and emotional, full of weather metaphors and promises of sunny days and storms to come. There were tears, laughter, and a kiss beneath a shower of petals as the newlyweds were announced to enthusiastic cheers. The gathering continued in the same golden light, with lanterns burning faintly as evening approached. Tables were dispersed beneath climbing roses, adorned with lace runners and small cloud-shaped name cards. A swing band played softly in the background as visitors interacted over glasses of sparkling cider and slices of lemon cake.
Channelle had been talking about the ceremony with Sirenna and Shade, with the Shadowguy providing commentary solely through saxophone solos, when a familiar voice called her name. She looked around and there he was again. Tenna, now without his suit jacket and much more relaxed. He slipped his way through the crowd toward her and paused a few steps away, almost timid; his screen glowing warmly in the twilight. “Hey,” he said, his voice carrying that nervous lilt she recognized all too well.
“Hey,” she parroted, subconsciously playing with one of her antennas.
For a moment, they were just standing there, struggling for words, two old friends who had once been everything to each other. “You look…” Tenna gestured vaguely, “Wow.”
Channelle gave a gentle laugh, her cheeks warming. “I could say the same about you. I never expected to see the King of Screens in a tailored suit that wasn't bright red.”
“I aim to surprise these days,” he remarked with faux dignity, only to fumble and almost lose his drink when Shade honked a dramatic wah-wah from behind them. They both chuckled, the uneasiness between them fading into something more comfortable.
They talked like that for a while, alternating between little conversations about the ceremony, the vows, and how Elnina had nearly cried herself into a drought. It wasn't forced or cautious anymore. It felt normal, as it had always been when the world around them wasn't crumbling.
~~~~~~
“I'm telling you,” he whispered, moving closer as if he were giving her a secret, “Zaps is definitely trying to steal the bouquet. He's got to planning something...! Probably just to annoy Pips.”
Channelle suppressed a laugh. “Maybe he just wants to smell them, Tenna. They are different from the ones that decorate the whole venue. I think he’s past annoying Pips. Intentionally, at least.”
“I really think he wants the bouquet.”
Their light conversation flowed so smoothly that Channelle nearly missed the shift in energy — the crowd's movement toward the center of the courtyard. Elnina, her cheeks flushed with delight, had stepped onto a little elevated platform near the archway, bouquet in hand and mischief in her eyes. “Before we run off to catch our flight,” she blurted out, “I think there's one more tradition we need to uphold!”
“Oh no,” Channelle sighed, hesitating a step forward.
“Oh yes,” Tenna countered, grinning as he gave her a slight push forward.
“I'm not doing it.”
“You should totally do it!”
“I'm absolutely not—”
“—oh look, you're doing it,” Tenna interrupted as Elnina’s stepsister grabbed Channelle by the wrist and hauled her into the growing crowd. The audience began to clap and chant Elnina's name as she turned away from them, bouquet in hand. Channelle remained near the back, arms folded, well-prepared to dodge if it came close.
“Three!”
“Two!”
“One!”
The bouquet soared into the air, and for a brief, absurd moment, it seemed to be headed straight for her. Channelle's hands shot up instinctively, despite her intention not to catch it. The bouquet brushed against her fingers, almost making contact, as a blur of aquamarine shot from the side.
“MINE!”
Sirenna leapt forward like a wide receiver in a championship game, grabbing the bouquet with both hands and spiking it into the ground in sheer delight. The courtyard erupted with laughter. Sirenna assumed a celebratory stance, hands on her hips, shouting, “I caught it!” while the shattered remnants of tradition lay scattered around her, a blue Swatchling, which Sirenna had brought to the wedding, stood nearby, looking simultaneously delighted and overwhelmed by the declaration.
Channelle, meanwhile, retreated from the field of battle with the grace of a soldier who had nearly escaped calamity. Tenna waited where she had left him, trying (and failing) not to laugh. “Does a near-catch count?” He asked innocently.
“If brushing it for five seconds is enough,” Channelle replied with a chuckle, “then I guess I'm doomed to be with the next guy that buys me coffee.”
There was a beat of silence.
“Do you… wanna get some coffee?”
Tenna blinked for half a second, puzzled. Then the realization hit him like an anvil. “Wait—wait, was that—did you just—” His screen lit up bright pink as he fumbled over the words, “—ask me out?”
Channelle raised an eyebrow. “Depends. Is that a ‘yes?’”
“Yes!” He blurted it out so quickly that she practically collapsed with laughter. “Definitely yes! Let's go now. Forget the sweets! Forget the dancing! Forget the—”
“Ant,” she interrupted, still laughing, “they haven't left yet.”
“Right, right, right. We’ll give them ten minutes.” And when their laughter subsided, she noticed that he was still smiling, wide and boyish, unable to conceal his delight. And, though she'd never confess it out loud, so was she. She was just waiting for a flower to shoot out his nose from how ecstatic he was.
The courtyard was alive with the kind of enjoyment that lingered. Laughter bubbled from every table, lantern lights swayed gently above, and petals from the bouquet toss remained scattered across the flagstones. At the far end of the yard, a classic ebony vehicle approached the archway, its trunk adorned with streamers and tin cans clinking against the gravel. Elnina and Lanino approached in a whirlwind of hugs and final goodbyes, their cheeks flushed with delight, their arms wrapped tightly around their loved ones as cameras flashed and cheers erupted. “Text us when you land!” Pips yelled alongside Zaps and Shade.
“Try not to cause a thunderstorm on the honeymoon!” Sirenna yelled, raising both arms above her head.
Lanino laughed, Elnina blew one last kiss, and they hopped into the car, waving out the windows as it slowly moved down the path. Everyone gathered down the lane to cheer and scatter petals as the newlyweds disappeared into the sunny evening. Channelle and Tenna stood together in the back of the crowd. They didn't say much, just smiled quietly as two of their closest friends vanished into a bright new chapter in their lives. Tenna leaned in slightly, “Now?”
“Now.”
They moved away from the bustle and lights, squeezing between tables and passing the dessert bar until they arrived at the gravel walk leading out of the garden. Their hands met briefly before Tenna's fingers softly hooked around hers, as if to ask for permission. She didn't pull away. Channelle cast a glance at Tenna as they turned the corner, her gaze lingering a little longer than intended. He noticed her staring, of course, and responded with a crooked, sheepish smile that made her heart twist in that familiar, ludicrous way.
“Hey,” she spoke softly. He hummed a questioning note, and she allowed herself to speak before uncertainty could stop her. “I’m… really glad it’s you. After everything. I don’t think I ever told you that enough.”
Tenna blinked, taken aback for a moment, then his look softened into something warmer, not goofy or dramatic. Just him. “I'm glad it's you, too,” he said, his voice quiet and genuine. “Always was.”
For a while, neither of them spoke. They just kept walking to her little blue car, their plug-tails brushing against each other until they were perfectly intertwined. Channelle let the silence settle, satisfied and certain. There was a coffee shop somewhere ahead. Whatever the future held lay somewhere further ahead. But right there, she knew she had found her way back home. And perhaps, she reflected with a soft, steady smile, this was just the next chapter in their own story. Two opposite souls, finally discovering how to write the rest of it together.
To fall in love.
~End~