Chapter Text
This is what I get for saying I wanted to talk to him, Battat frowned.
In Mike’s doorway stood a staggering mess of a man, reeking of spirits. “You left the door unlocked, Mike.” Swaying, Tenna attempted to move forward, but with little tact. He stumbled, almost tripping over his own feet. A sloppy grin donned his flushed screen. “Were you waiting for me?”
“Huh — what..?” Utter bewilderment.
“Did you like the flowers?”
“Oh,” Battat crossed his arms, sighing, “that's what this is about.” Prior to Tenna’s intrusion, he thought he had no patience left; this was going to test him beyond his already exceeded limits. Still, he was aware enough to know that his anger needed to be methodical. He had to be justified in any conviction he were to make. For now, he would play along, and try to figure out what exactly was going on in his boss’ mind. “Were the flowers supposed to be an apology?”
The smile on Tenna’s face shifted a bit at the acknowledgment of accountability, though he nodded. “I thought you may like them.”
Battat did his best to keep his tone level, though already he was failing slightly. He didn’t bother with the Mike voice. “But, you didn’t think I’d also like a real apology? One that you meant?”
Tenna’s smile now vanished entirely, substituted by dramatic offense. It hadn’t taken long for his demeanor to shift, Battat noted. “I did mean it! It hurt to rip all those suckers out, you know! They don’t come out easy when I’m unhappy.”
Battat raised his brow. “Why would you think it’s easier to hurt yourself than to just say you were sorry?” At least I know he’s been upset about all of this. A part of him was less angry than he sounded.
Unsure of how to respond, Tenna fidgeted a bit. “Well, um, I was just trying to — uh…” His gaze was empty. “...don’t know.” The talent of producing a convoluted, redirected response — something typical of his nature — was lost in such an intoxicated state. His honesty left him defenseless. Battat took advantage of this unusual lack of confidence.
“Of course you don’t know! You wouldn’t be able to see it if it was right in front of your nose.” Battat took a step forward, though purposefully keeping distance. “But, you can’t fool me; I know why you couldn’t apologize.”
A mixture of confusion and apprehension appeared on Tenna’s screen. “You do..?”
“Are you really asking me to spell out your own mistakes to you?” Now, the agitation was becoming hard to mask. It was only fueled by the dumbstruck expression of his boss, who looked as if he had been cornered. “You still haven’t learned anything from this, have you?”
Tenna covered his mouth, but said nothing. It was unclear what sort of reaction he was having. His silence was infuriating. “Well?” Battat demanded, desperate for any kind of response. Out of all of the possible replies he was anticipating, he hadn’t expected Tenna to hunch over, antennae bent. Mortified, Battat watched him vomit in the doorway. “What the hell!”
In deep shame, Tenna covered his mouth again. Vomit dripped from his chin. “I’m sorry! I — I’ll get someone to clean it!”
“No one’s even here right now, it’s the middle of the night!” Battat grinded his teeth, disgusted and enraged. The unexpected nature of the event caused him to lose his patience altogether. His careful plan was falling apart. “This is exactly the problem!” he called out. “You make a mess of things and always expect others to clean up after you. How humiliating is it to have someone clear away your own puke, of all things?” A beat. “But, you don’t feel shame, do you? You’re no better than a spoiled kid, always used to being waited on.”
An unhealthy mixture of nausea and overwhelming emotions resulted in Tenna’s body beginning to grow weak. He leaned against the wall, his head spinning. Despite the solid surface, there was hardly enough support. In a state of low functioning, all he could think to say was: “I’m sorry…”
A bitter cackle from Battat. “Oh, now you’re sorry! After you can’t get anything from me anymore, you suddenly feel bad, is that it, huh?” His pupils were narrowed.
“No, I — I regret this.”
“‘Course you do! You’re a drunken mess.”
“No!” Stumbling a bit, Tenna left the security of the wall in order to wave his hands, rejecting the interpretation. “I meant I’m sorry about all of this. I never wanted things to go this way. I never…” he started fidgeting with his tie, “meant to be hurtful.” He neglected to wipe his chin.
For the first time, it seemed like Tenna was actually addressing the issue. It caught Battat off-guard, but not enough to fully quell his anger. His tone lowered nonetheless. “Just because you’re upset doesn’t mean it’s right to take it out on everyone else.”
Averting Battat’s gaze, Tenna hung his head. The alcohol rendered him meek: more in tune with his deeper feelings without an ego to dominate them constantly. The cloud that typically shrouded his reasoning began to lift once overwhelming pride was stripped away. “I don’t mean to do that.”
“You don’t mean to do a lot of things, but they still happen.” And I never meant to care this much, but look what happened, too.
Mr. Tenna looked up, misplaced. Like always, he waited for Mike to explain. “So… what am I supposed to do?”
“It’s about what you need to stop doing! Quit all your yelling, and changing plans without notice, and constantly expecting perfection from us when you know we’re all trying our best. And for everyone’s sake, stop feelin’ so damn sorry for yourself all the time!”
Neglecting the first half of what was said, the accused’s antennae drooped. “You know why I’m upset, Mike. I can’t help that.” His screen turned black. It was not enough to invoke any tenderness from Battat.
“Take a look around you! Does anyone look happy to be here? We all know times are tough, but sulking about it doesn’t help the situation any.”
“But, it’s not just that, Mike. You know it’s not! Everything’s felt wrong since he left. And it’s only gotten worse. I’m so lost without him.”
Sighing, Battat rubbed a hand over his face. For a moment, it had appeared like Tenna was actually trying to analyze his mistakes; it became clear how short-lived such an attempt was once the truth became too great for the man to bear. A tunnel that was recently opened now grew blocked once more. The entrance to Battat’s heart, too, closed. “Look. I know things suck, but you need to be strong. You’re supposed to be the one in charge of this Dark World — you can’t go throwing fits when something goes wrong, and you need to stop dwellin’ on the past so much. That contract was a long time ago. You need to grow up, move on, and get yourself under control.”
“GROW UP? I’ve been plugged in for over thirty years!”
“Oh, my God,” Battat despaired, unsure of whether his rage or his dismay was greater. “You’re taking everything so freaking literally! ‘A course I know that you’re old, I’m telling you to grow a spine! Take some criticism! Be accountable! Feel a little bad about your actions for once.”
“I have felt bad, that’s why I gave you those flowers!”
“But, you haven’t understood!” Finding his face growing hot, Battat took a few, short breaths. They were not enough to be effective in cooling his boiling blood, but they were needed nonetheless. “I really thought you were getting somewhere tonight. I actually got an apology from you. And, you were just about to admit that you hurt me, only to backtrack all over again, and make up an excuse for why you can treat me and everyone else like dirt! You’re not the only person in the whole Dark World with problems, you know. Plenty of people have been hurt before. They’ve been neglected, too. We all feel the effects of losing the spotlight, just in a different way. But, you’re too wrapped up in your own head to see that!”
Tenna paused, taking it in. Then, he asked: “You really think I’m like that?”
A small, exasperated laugh escaped Battat. “I think? I think? You are like that! I’d say ask anyone, but they’d be too afraid to tell you the truth.”
The air between them shifted; the one-sided tension morphed into two. Conversation grew heated as Tenna scoffed. “Why would my employees be afraid of me? I’m not a bad boss at all! What about all of the bonuses I give them? I don’t have to do that, now, do I?” He crossed his arms.
“You really think that giving an overworked staff a bunch of unsold, useless merchandise is a worthy thanks for putting up with all your constant nagging? News flash: that’s not consideration, that’s making things more convenient for you by getting rid of stock that no one wanted to buy! If you really wanted to be nice, why not start with — oh, I don’t know, giving your employees access to healthcare?”
The man in the doorway looked caught, his expression confirming such. Fumbling over his words, Tenna found no proper excuse for this attack. His face was scrunched with failed concentration and anger.
“What’s the matter,” Battat rattled on, soaking up Tenna’s struggling, “can’t find anything to say? Having to actually think about your problems for once?”
Baring his teeth, Tenna scowled. Battat was coaxing his temper to come out, and Tenna failed to stop it. “Well, in your eyes, they would just find another reason to be upset with me even if I did give them healthcare, wouldn’t they? They all hate me! Nothing’s going to change that. Why even bother when I know they wouldn’t appreciate it?”
“Because that’s what being kind is! It’s about extending a hand to those around you, without expecting a favor in return.”
“...They’ve never done anything like that for me.”
“Because you treat them horribly! God!” The endless back-and-forth had grown tiresome. Nothing meaningful would be resolved tonight; not with drunkenness and irritability pervading the conversation. All that was desired now was rest, and to resolve things at a later time when tensions had subsided. “Just go sleep it off, will ya! Get out of here!” Battat swatted at his boss, as if he were an animal.
Realizing he was being told to leave, Tenna froze. “No.”
“Excuse me?”
“We haven't resolved anything yet.” It was clear logic was not in order. In spite of both of their anger, Tenna still believed that making peace was possible. Little sense could be made of such reasoning, other than concluding it was born from the mind of a drunken individual.
This defiance left Battat steaming. Not only was he insulted, but now disrespected. He was beyond enraged: he was hostile. “I’m telling you now to leave. We’ll deal with this when you can actually stand upright without looking like you’re about to fall over, or mess up my floor even more,” his voice was a low growl, threatening. His hint was not taken.
“But, I want to FIX things now! I can’t live like this another night. I’m… gonna need help going to bed.” A large shoe rubbed against the back of Tenna’s leg in an awkward fashion. His anger was gone.
Battat’s body rattled from his rage, as if containing some sort of aggressive animal within. A violent demeanor overtook him, though there was nowhere to expel it aside from through words. “I can’t believe it! After all of this, you’re still only worried about yourself! How vile can you be?”
Oddly, Tenna looked surprised. For a moment, the strain left his face. His tone changed. “No, that’s not what I meant. I meant that —”
“I don’t care what the hell you meant! Get out!”
Tenna flinched, his voice growing soft. “I just… wanted you there with me.” Still, he did not move.
“Get out!” Battat shrieked, his throat burning from the abuse it endured.
Tenna threw his arms to the sides, blocking the doorway completely. A sudden passion overtook him. His face was flushed for a variety of reasons. “No, Mike! I can't leave you like this! I — I care too much!” He simply refused to quit. His stubbornness would have been admirable in an external context. But, Battat had other means of getting him to give up. A terrible resolution came across his mind, blurted out without thought:
“If you quit disrespecting my space, I’ll show you how much I care and — and… I’ll finally dip out of here!” Battat yelled. The words came out before he had even registered them himself. There were plenty of times before where he would claim that he’d quit, but always he would reconsider and eventually give up the notion. Amidst the peak of his fury, however, it seemed like a real possibility this time. At that moment, he felt like he hated Mr. Tenna; he had finally been pushed over the edge. Then he’ll actually know what it’s like to feel hurt for once, he concurred with dark satisfaction.
Tenna’s face dropped. “...you mean that as a — a joke, right?”
Without any other way to express himself, Battat stomped his foot in a desperate attempt to relieve some kind of pressure. He was surprised at how it was possible to become even angrier. “Why would I be joking? Are you really that stupid?”
Upon realizing the validity of the threat, Tenna gasped, clutching his tie. “No!” His antennae fell flat. “Mike, please, you wouldn’t — you couldn’t… I—”
“And what if I do mean it? What then, huh?”
He watched as Tenna started to shake, though felt no pity. Disregarding his own vomit before him, Tenna started to hastily approach. His expression was one of horror. “I can’t lose you, I just can’t! Not someone else… You mean too much to me, let me prove it!” Despite Battat backing away, Tenna got on his knees, hands clasped in a begging position. His stature shrank with every word. “I — I’ll do better! I’ll show you! I’ll take care of you for once, just please!” Tears started to stream down his face. “I don’t wanna be alone again… You’re all I have.”
It was a genuine display, but it invoked little sympathy. To Battat, it was just another performance. “There you go, playing the victim again! You think you can tug at my heartstrings to get me to stay? Crying all over my floor and such? Why should I trust anything you have to say? What can you actually do to prove that you care?”
He was met with sniffling. “W — what would you want me to do?”
“We tried to have that conversation over fifteen minutes ago, but you completely ignored it! You know something? I don’t think you’re even capable of change. At this point, why bother?”
Tenna began to cry harder now, realizing how serious Mike was being. A nauseating déjà vu overtook him. “I can’t lose you Mike… I care... so much.” He was beyond desperate.
“Sure,” Battat scoffed, rolling his eyes underneath his headpiece. “Just like how you say you’re a great boss, too, huh?”
In passionate rejection, Tenna shook his head. “No, Mike, you’re different from the others! I like you too much. I…” By now, he was fully sobbing. “I…”
“Spit it out already! Say what you so desperately need to. Then leave. And don’t expect to find me here in the morning.”
“I can’t have you leave, Mike! I LOVE you too much!”
A sharp inhale. Next, a pause. Then, disbelief: Battat was so confused that he was able to successfully override his anger for the moment. “You… you what?” His voice was different then before.
Realizing what he said, Tenna froze. At once, his body grew stiff. His screen turned black. “I love you like… a brother. You know.” He held his head low, but he was unable to hide the trembling in his voice. This time, however, it didn’t appear to be from sadness.
“Like a brother.” Battat’s heart sank. “Is that really what you meant?” There was no emotion behind his tone, masking fear of what the answer may be.
Abruptly, Tenna stood up, defensive. “O — of course that’s what I meant! What else could I possibly mean? It’s not like — not like—” He swallowed nervously. So much was happening, and far too quickly for him to process. He gripped his tie with severity, grimacing.
Battat’s eyes were wide. “Not like… what?”
Looking to his left and right, it was clear Tenna didn’t know what to do. His words came out jumbled again, until something finally coherent was spoken: “I — I should go like you wanted me to, Mike.” He started to back up through the archway he had previously guarded with such fervor.
Battat paused, still stunned. “N-No, wait!” he called out, but Tenna had already reached the room’s exit.
“Please, just don’t leave me after this, okay?” Tenna pleaded meekly. And with that, he slammed the door shut, leaving Battat alone in the dark.