Now's Your Chance!!! Spamton x Reader

Acid Trip Down Memory Lane

The bubbling of acid is the only sound as Payton mulls over his words. You dig your nails into your palm as you wait, putting a leash on your anger for the time being.

"I'm sorry, give me a moment. I wasn't exactly expecting you," Payton sheepishly apologizes. 

You don't have the words to respond. You refuse to pretend that things are okay, but you're also trying very hard not to say what's on your mind. After all, saying "I hate you and want to choke you to death with my bare hands" isn't exactly productive.

Noelle glances up at you worriedly from your side. You give her your best smile.

"Head back to the boat for a bit, please."

"A-are you sure you'll be okay?" 

"Yeah. Just, uh, keep Clipton company for a bit while I get this over with."

"O-okay." 

She steps away, grabbing Clipton as she goes and walking back to the boat. 

Leaving you alone with Payton.

You're left waiting for a moment in tense silence.

Payton's attention drifts from you to Spamton. His expression is warm, as though he's looking at someone he truly loves and not the muttering, ruined brother that he's actively been trying to keep imprisoned. 

"...I guess I should start with him, huh?"

His eyes flick back to you. You don't respond, but meeting his eyes seems to be enough of a confirmation.

"...You know already that he was one of us. But how much do you actually know about him? The 'him' that made it to the mansion, the 'him' that served Queen." 

You don't want to talk about him like this, not really. He's across the island, trapped in his cage and most likely just out of hearing distance. The constant simmering of acid around you ensures that much. You feel bad treating him like he's not there when you should be breaking him free. But if indulging Payton gets him to leave, well...

"...Not much," you admit. "He's an Addison. He got really successful. There was someone backing him, and then..." You swallow thickly. The memory of those vivid green strings around your wrists... You can only imagine how Spamton felt. How he feels. "...Then, there wasn't. And everything went wrong, and now we're here."

He nods. 

"You're mostly right. But let's start from your first mistake. He was an Addison." 

"What?"

"Don't act like you don't see the differences. Even after his little dip in the pools here, he was still an Addison, just... small. But something changed him after that. It was like he... gave up on resisting whatever was tugging at him. The next time I saw him, he looked like this. Hinges and ball joints are the only thing keeping him together at this point, I'm sure of it."

Something clicks in your head. His disdain is disgusting, but the new connection manages to ring out over your resentful thoughts.

"Wait." You narrow your eyes. "You were there?"

"Hm?"

"With the acid."

"Yes. We all were." He tilts his head, amused. "No one's told you?"

"Everyone's just danced around it," you huff. 

"Don't be too harsh on them. Most people want to pretend it never happened. Spamton especially, I'm sure. He never did like to talk about his low points," he sighs, reminiscing. "Well, let me enlighten you, then."