Work Text:
After spending so much time in disguise by Tenna's side, Battat couldn't take it anymore. He felt a near hysterical urge to make Tenna know the real him. He deserved the credit for his actions as Mike, damnit! However, revealing who he was right away would jeopardize everything, and he wasn't even sure he wanted to reveal himself at all. He had to play this smart. Several crazed plans involving subliminal messaging and psychological manipulation later, Jongler and Pluey had talked him down to a worryingly simple one: just talking to him out of costume.
It wasn't like Battat was never out and about without his disguise, but for some reason, being around Tenna without it was extremely nerve-wracking. He'd just been standing in the same room about ten feet behind Tenna trying to work up the nerve to approach him. Thankfully, everyone had cleared out a few minutes after they'd wrapped, and Tenna himself was busy reading notes. Otherwise, he would be getting plenty of weird looks. But at it was, he had all the time in the wo—
"Did you need something?" a voice interrupted his thoughts.
He jolted and looked up to see that Tenna had turned at some point and noticed him. He wracked his brain for anything to say. Nothing. Tenna was still looking at him. He cleared his throat and opened his mouth. No words came. Tenna started to frown.
"Youweregreattodaybye," he blurted and darted out of the room.
Well, that could have gone better. He definitely had not been wallowing in bed for hours, nope. Everything was going according to plan, and he wasn't discouraged by his own incompetence at all! He screamed into his pillow. What if... What if Tenna had known he was there the whole time? He shouldn't have just stood there for so long! Now Tenna was going to think he was a huge creep. It was over. Battat was never going to be able to go outside without his disguise ever again, which was unfortunate because that thing got kinda hot after a few hours. Maybe he could figure out a cooling system...
There was a loud knock at the door.
"What?!" he shouted.
The door flew open to reveal another pippins. It was one of his roommates, but Battat spent so little time with them, he realized he didn't actually know any of their names.
"What are you doing? We can all hear you screaming and crying, y'know," they said.
He blinked. He actually hadn't thought of that.
"I don't care if you want to cry over your boyfriend or whatever. Just keep it down," they remarked, slamming the door behind them.
Boyfriend? What was that supposed to mean? Had he been saying things aloud? It didn't matter; it wasn't like his roommate knew anything anyway.
Battat had tried to convince himself that he was fine with abandoning the plan and going back to normal. That lasted a few days until he delivered a fresh cup of coffee to Tenna, made to his exact preferences that Battat had learned through months of trial and error and absolutely perfected. Tenna had beamed at him and said, "Thanks, Mike!" and suddenly his resolve was out the window. Or did going back to the plan mean it was in the window? Whichever way, the point was that the plan was back on, and this time he would nail it.
He made it about halfway down the hall before he bolted back to Mike's dressing room. Pluey frowned at him disapprovingly, and Jongler gently but firmly shoved him back outside. He took a deep breath and began walking down the hall again. He knew Tenna should be heading for his office right now, which meant he was free from the burden of making up an excuse to get into his dressing room. Though the thought of being in the room without his disguise was a little enticing...
He was so focused on his thoughts that he completely ignored his surroundings, and a few feet after turning the corner, he slammed face first into... something. A faint metallic clang hung in the air, and Battat fell back on his ass. He rubbed his face, wincing slightly. It was honestly more surprising than painful.
"Whoa there," a familiar voice said. "You're all so small I don't always see you! Sorry about that."
Battat froze. Why did the universe hate him? He peeked up through his fingers, and sure enough, the some one was just the person he was looking for. Tenna had move to squat down in front in him, a concerned and sheepish look on his face.
"It's fine," he mumbled. "I wasn't looking where I was going either."
Tenna snapped his fingers and exclaimed, "I knew it! You're that pippins from last week!"
Battat held his breath, hoping he could pass away instantly.
"I never got to thank you for the compliment," Tenna continued.
What. He was so surprised he forgot not to look directly at him.
Tenna rubbed the back of his neck and muttered, "It's a little embarrassing, but I don't really get many compliments. Not to my face anyway."
"I'll do better next time," Battat assured him.
"...What?" It was Tenna's turn to look at him in surprise.
"You don't get many compliments. It was a pretty bad compliment, so I'll do better next time," he explained.
Battat wasn't sure where this newfound confidence was coming from, but he was going to make the most of it.
"You will, huh?" Tenna smiled. "Then I look forward to it."
Battat couldn't help but smile back.
Battat felt like he had a whole new pep in his step. He had a whole conversation with Tenna, and Tenna had liked talking to him. He was so good at this. Forget every self-flagellating thought he had before. He was on top of the world.
"It was just one talk though, Boss," Jongler said. "Ya still gots to have more."
Pluey nodded in agreement.
"Well, yeah," he sputtered. "But! I got the test run out of the way! It'll be smooth-sailing from here."
Pluey and Jongler exchanged doubtful looks. Pluey let out a few low notes. Battat frowned.
"I'm not overconfident; I'm exactly as confident as I should be," he assured them.
"Whatever ya say, Boss," Jongler appeased.
The next time he approached Tenna, he was significantly calmer. Now that he had already pulled a couple embarrassing stunts, and Tenna was still willing to talk to him, he wasn't as hopped up on nerves. He actually made it all the way to his office with no mishaps. He'd even brought a coffee as a failsafe. Things were going exactly to plan. He knocked on the door.
"Come in!" Tenna called.
There was an automatic open button Tenna had had installed under the handle when he'd realized that even the tallest of them only reached his chest. Battat liked to think it was mostly for his benefit. He pressed the button. Tenna looked up from his writing and smiled at him.
"Well, hello! It's you again. Sorry to say, but I don't remember your name...?"
Ah. He should have known he had forgotten something.
"Hello, Mr. Tenna," he greeted. "I'm Battat."
He held up the coffee mug, and Tenna perked up.
"Oh, is that for me?" At Battat's nod, he took it and tentatively sipped it. "Whoa, that's amazing! Did Mike send this?"
Battat's smile strained. "No, ha, I made it myself!"
Tenna looked at him appraisingly. "Is that so?" he muttered. "You sure know how to make a mean cup of coffee! Only Mike's could possibly compare."
Battat shuffled slightly. A nervous, giddy feeling erupted in his throat.
"You think so? That's high praise then," he said.
"The highest," Tenna agreed. "Is that all that brings you here?"
Oh. Oh no. He had been so focused on making the coffee perfectly that he had completely forgotten to have a real conversation topic ready. In a panic, he latched onto the first thing he he could thing of.
"What are you doing?" he asked, pointing at the papers on Tenna's desk.
"Ah," Tenna startled. "I was just uh, trying to come up with new bits for the gameshow segments, but I'm afraid I'm a little stale."
"Maybe I could help," Battat offered.
Tenna hesitantly thumbed the papers for a moment before he sighed and handed them over. Battat skimmed over the papers as quickly but thoughtfully as he could. Category trivia, timed tasks, guess the drawing, name the tune... Hmm...
"I don't see anything wrong with these," he said, looking up at Tenna.
"Really?" Tenna grumbled. "They're all so... boring."
"I don't know; I think a big part of the entertainment value is the personality of the host, and you've already got that covered. Plus you're pretty good at engaging with the contestants and even getting the shyer ones to speak up," Battat said, flipping through the papers again. "People love the classics for a reason, and you mix in fresh new challenges between rounds. I don't think you have anything to worry about, but if it really bothers you, we could brainstorm a bit."
He looked back up to see a soft pink glow and a goofy smile on Tenna's screen. He felt his own face flush.
"W-what?" he asked. "What did I say?"
"That was a lovely compliment, Battat," Tenna said softly. "Thank you very much! For that, and the coffee."
He nodded jerkily, rubbing the back of his neck. He hadn't even said anything special; he was just speaking facts, but the flips his stomach was doing said differently.
Something weird was happening. Battat was suddenly more eager to speak to Tenna out of costume than in. And while Tenna always looked pleased to see him either way, something about Tenna saying his real name and seeing his real face felt more intimate than when he asked "Mike" to massage his antennas or have a drink with him. After that day in his office, Tenna seemed more willing to share his concerns and ask for a second opinion. It gave Battat a proud feeling to know that as himself or as Mike, Tenna felt like he could rely on him.
But he couldn't help but feel a little guilty too. Tenna had no idea that the things he shared with Mike were also shared with Battat. It was for the greater good, he told himself. Tenna probably wouldn't be able to handle the loss of Mike, and Pluey and Jongler were relying on him. Plus Tenna liked Battat, so would he even be that upset about it? He hoped not.
He found himself lingering around more as himself and leaving Pluey and Jongler to juggle other things. In a way, it almost balanced out, because he couldn't stop himself from volunteering to help Tenna anyway, so what was the harm? Jongler and Pluey had congratulated him on his success initially, but as the weeks wore on, they started to get more antsy and annoyed.
On his third week not being Mike, Jongler pulled him into the dressing room.
"What?" he hissed. "Can't you see I'm busy?"
Jongler visibly deflated.
"Sorry, Boss," they mumbled. "We got to know... Are ya leavin' us behind?"
Battat was dumbfounded. Did they both think that? He glanced at Pluey, who fiddled with his bow and looked away.
"What made you think that?" he managed.
"Ya spent so much time flirtin' and not so much with us..." Jongler trailed off.
"I'm not flirting!" Battat screeched hysterically. "I'm just—"
Pluey made some sad notes.
"Yeah, you don't even care about Mike no more," Jongler added.
Battat flapped his arms indignantly. "Of course I still want to know who Mike is! I'm dying to know! But Tenna doesn't constantly give away hints or anything. And I have other priorities right now," he said, composing himself.
"Like gettin' him ta like ya," Jongler muttered.
Pluey hummed in agreement.
"Is that so wrong?" Battat sighed. "Look, I'm not giving up on Mike. I'll try splitting my time better, okay?"
Jongler nodded, "That's good with me."
Pluey nodded enthusiastically.
As Battat put on his costume, he asked himself if he was trying to flirt with Tenna. And why did the idea not actually sound that bad?
Battat threw off his disguise and nearly jumped down from the catwalks in his haste to reach Tenna.
"Tenna!" he called, trying very hard not to look like he'd raced down a flight of stairs.
Tenna turned and beamed at him. "Battat!" he greeted. "There's my star assistant! I didn't know you were here today."
"Isn't Mike your star assistant?" Battat questioned.
"Can't I have two?" Tenna countered. Then he sighed and said, "Actually, I haven't seen Mike around as often. I know he's still here, but he doesn't speak to me as much."
Battat's throat felt dry but he forced himself to press on. "Oh. That's too bad. Do you miss him?"
"Yes, he's a very good friend," Tenna said easily. "But enough about him. What are your thoughts, Battat?"
Tenna's words gave him a whiplash in emotions that his brain struggled to comprehend.
"On the program?" he asked. At Tenna's nod, he continued, "You were sensational today. I didn't even notice the interviewees and contestants."
It was true. He couldn't even remember who was in the talk show segment or how many contestants were on the game show.
"Sensational, huh?" Tenna preened. "And where were you watching from?"
"I was working the lights," he answered honestly.
"Is that why the spotlight seemed to love me today?" Tenna laughed.
Battat blushed but laughed along.
"Yeah, you got me," he joked.
Tenna paused and put a hand to his mouth thoughtfully.
"You know," he mused. "Your laugh... it sounds familiar..."
"R-really?" Battat wheezed as nonchalantly as he could.
Tenna snapped, and Battat jumped in surprise.
"It sounds like Mike's!" Tenna exclaimed triumphantly. "What a coincidence!"
Battat thought he might have five consecutive heart attacks.
"Haha! That's some coincidence!" he agreed. "What are the chances?"
"Anyway," Tenna continued. "Now that you're here, would you mind joining me for a drink?"
"Sounds great," he agreed.
But he wasn't sure if the pounding in his heart from still from his scare or way Tenna smiled at him.
"Guys," Battat said a few days later on the floor of Mike's dressing room. "I think I might like Tenna."
"We know," Jongler said. "We said so weeks ago."
They had, hadn't they?
"But now I'm agreeing with you!"
Pluey made a few high notes.
Battat flushed and sat up. "I'm not gonna tell him! He probably hasn't noticed anything anyway, so if I did, it would just come out of nowhere."
Pluey shook his head and let out a few low notes.
"I'm discreet! I am!" Battat argued.
Jongler sighed. "If ya say so."
"Plus what would I even say if I wanted to tell him? That he has a great figure and a cute face? That he's so tall it makes me crazy? That he outshines everyone on his show? Tha — "
"We's not tryin' ta make ya do anything," Jongler interrupted.
"Right," Battat said, deflating.
He flopped back onto the floor, staring up at the ceiling. It was shame Mike's room didn't have more chairs, but asking for more would just invite more questions that he didn't want to make up answers for. There were still some glow-in-the-dark stars that Pluey had stuck up there during the first week of their ruse. He glanced over to his conspiracy board gathering dust in the corner. He hadn't had new clues in months. If he were honest, he was starting to feel that even if Mike had been real at one point, he was long gone. And good riddance! Mike didn't deserve Tenna. Tenna needed someone better than a guy who would just get up and leave with no explanation.
He sat up.
"I'll be back in a bit," he called, running out the door.
He could just barely see a sliver of light under Tenna's dressing room door. He knocked.
"Yes?" Tenna responded, but something sounded strange about his voice.
Battat pressed the button and let himself in. Tenna was sitting at the vanity with his head flat against the surface. Battat's chest tightened with concern.
"Boss?" he asked, climbing the ladder by the vanity. "What's the matter?"
Tenna slowly straightened and looked toward him. His screen was a mask of static.
"Mike? Is that you? You aren't tired of me?" he asked.
"Of course not!" Battat assured. "I just had some stuff going on is all."
Damnit, he was just messing everything up, wasn't he?
"Really?" Tenna asked. "You're not planning to leave me?"
"I'm not," he said firmly. "I don't ever plan on leaving you. I'll be here as long as you want me."
It was almost frightening how much he meant it. He patted Tenna's hand in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture. Tenna's screen flickered a few times before his face finally reappeared.
"Sorry," he sighed. "I'm just not having a very good day, I'm afraid. But the show must go on!"
Battat frowned. "Are you sure? We still have another 15 minutes. If you're not feeling up to it, I could ask Lanino and Elnina to stall while I make some calls."
"You'd do that for me?"
"Sure. It's not like you haven't asked me to do stranger and more difficult things," he joked.
Tenna laughed weakly before sobering again. "I can't. What if the audience gives up on me?"
"They won't," Battat argued. "Everyone has off days! They should understand that, and even if they don't, there's no one who could really replace you. They'll be waiting on the edge of their seats for your return," he reassured.
"You really think so?"
"Absolutely. You trust me, right?"
"I trust you more than anyone," Tenna said seriously.
Battat's heart clenched.
"Then trust me to handle this."
Tenna smiled softly. "Thanks, Mike. I don't know what I'd do without you."
The next few weeks were a blur of juggling being Mike and being Battat. On top of spending time with Pluey and Jongler, he had to keep Tenna from feeling like either one of his selves were abandoning him. He felt exhausted and run ragged, but at the same time, he felt fluttery and excited. He'd managed to strike up a decent friendship with Tenna as himself while reaffirming his importance as Mike.
Still though, he couldn't keep this up forever. If something didn't change quickly, he was going to collapse. But there was still time before that happened.
Jongler and Pluey didn't seem to agree.
"I'm fine, guys," he insisted.
Pluey made some notes in protest.
"Yeah, we didn't want ya to tire out," Jongler agreed.
"I'm just trying to do what everyone wants," Battat protested. "I'm not trying to tire myself out. But I have to spend time with you guys and with Tenna, so sometimes—"
"Go home," Jongler said. "Get some sleep. We can tell Tenna."
"Bu—"
"Ya need rest. Don't make me force ya."
Pluey pounded a fist into his palm and nodded.
Battat sighed. "Alright. If you insist."
It wouldn't do to damage their friendship, so he reluctantly put away his disguise and half-heartedly returned Pluey's cheerful goodbye wave.
He ended up getting sick the day. It was terribly boring being stuck at home the next couple days. His roommates were loud, but thankfully they had more of a social life than him, because they were barely home. It occurred to Battat that the studio felt more comforting to him that his actual apartment. He sighed and rolled over, hoping that he'd be ready to go back when he woke up.
Battat felt refreshed when he walked into the studio the next week. He stopped a few feet inside the doorway and took a deep breath of that sweet studio air.
"Hey there, Battat!"
He choked on the breath and looked sharply in the direction of the voice. Tenna smiled down at him.
"Your friends told me were sick. Glad you're feeling better!"
"Yep, I'm fantastic," he wheezed.
"You sure are!" Tenna agreed. "It's great to have you back. I missed you."
Battat blushed so hard he thought he might pass out. "Thanks."
Thanks?! Fucking thanks?????? He changed his mind; he needed to go back home immediately.
Tenna laughed. "See you around, Battat!" he called back as he walked away.
As soon as he was gone, Battat turned and slammed his face into the nearest wall. What was wrong with him?! He pulled away and noticed a faint dent from one of his edges. He looked around frantically, but nobody was around to see him act like an idiot. Letting out a sigh of relief, he ran a hand over the dent, and was relieved when no paint flecked off. He slapped his cheeks to ward off the blush and headed to his dressing room. It was fine. Tenna had laughed. He wasn't a failure. Tenna had said he'd missed him. He took a deep breath and let it out.
The following day was anything but normal. It started out just fine, lulling Battat into a false sense of security. It was only after lunch break that it all went to shit. He stepped out of the dressing room, only to immediately hear Tenna call out "Battat!"
He whipped around in the direction of Tenna's voice, but Tenna said nothing and merely sipped his coffee. Battat looked at him questioningly until his mistake suddenly registered. He wasn't Battat right now; he was Mike. He looked down at his clothes only to have his fear confirmed.
"I knew it," Tenna whispered.
Battat's heart nearly stopped. "Tenna, I—"
Tenna held up a hand. "Stop," he ordered.
"I can explain! I—" Battat tried again.
"Stop. We'll discuss this later," Tenna said firmly. "We have a show to get back to, right?"
Battat nodded despondently. They started off down the hall, Tenna's steps sure and unwavering while Battat trailed hesitantly behind. He was going to be sick. At least Tenna hadn't immediately fired him, but this silence was almost worse. Tenna tended to be very big and open with his emotions, so Battat wasn't used to guessing what he was feeling. When he made it up to the catwalks, Pluey worriedly put a paw on his arm. Battat winced. He didn't know if Tenna knew about the others, and if he didn't, he wasn't about to drag them into it.
"Later," he whispered.
Pluey frowned but nodded.
The next few hours dragged on, but Tenna put on an excellent show as always. He gave no indication that he had just thrown both their worlds off their axes. In case he never got to see it again, Battat soaked up every second of Tenna's performance.
Finally, the show was over, and Tenna was bidding the audience good night. The pit in Battat's stomach turned into a black hole. Everyone else filed out until it was just them and Tenna. Tenna looked expectantly toward the catwalks, and Battat steeled himself, walking as confidently as he could toward the stairs. Descending them, with Tenna waiting at the bottom, felt like he was walking to his own execution.
When Battat finally reached the bottom, Tenna gestured for him to follow before sitting at the desk on stage. Battat awkwardly climbed into the armchair closest to the desk, his stomach twisting into knots.
Tenna waited for him to be situated before he asked, "Was it fun for you?"
Battat stiffened. "What?"
"You couldn't manipulate me enough with one identity, so you had to use your real one too?" Tenna's voice cracked. "Is that it?"
"No!" Battat shouted. "That's not it at all! I never wanted to take advantage of you or use you or-or anything! Please, you have to believe me!"
"How am I supposed to do that when you're still wearing that disguise?" Tenna muttered.
Moving faster than he ever had, Battat ripped the disguise off.
"I know it looks bad, but I swear. I swear to you, Tenna, that I never intended to hurt you. I only ever wanted to make you happy," he promised, leaning forward to put his hands on the desk.
"Then why?" Tenna rasped, his screen flickering.
Battat faltered. "I— After—" he cleared his throat after started over. "At first, it was just to appease you. You wanted Mike, but he wasn't here, so I thought I'd make things easier for everyone and uh, pretend to be him," he explained. "But then I kinda got used to it, and I started looking forward to helping you. Until I started to want the credit for myself instead of just Mike, and I also began to worry that you only liked me because I was Mike. So then I started talking to you like me instead."
Tenna's expression didn't change. "And the others?"
"The others?"
"Don't tell me you have three costumes," Tenna deadpanned.
"I—"
"It's okay, Boss," Jongler interrupted.
Battat turned to see Pluey and Jongler had joined them on stage. He had honestly forgotten they were still here. They walked over to Battat's chair, and Pluey put a supportive hand on Battat's shoulder.
"Everything he said is true," Jongler confirmed. " We's been helpin' him help you. Don't be mad at him."
Pluey made a few passionate high notes.
"Thanks, guys," Battat said.
Tenna sighed and rubbed a hand over his screen. "You really didn't have any bad intentions?"
"None!" Battat confirmed. "I should have told you myself. I'm really sorry about that."
"We didn't think ya'd fall for it really. Not for so long anyway," Jongler added.
Pluey let out some low notes.
Tenna looked at the three of them incredulously. "Do you all think I'm completely stupid? Of course I knew you weren't the real Mike. None of you look anything like him."
Battat fiddled with his fingers anxiously.
"Oh," Jongler said. "Then whys ya go along with it?"
Tenna huffed. "I... Mike left so suddenly it was nice to think it never happened. I guess I just wanted someone here."
"Sorry," Battat whispered. "Are you mad at us?"
Tenna stood up and moved around the desk to kneel in front of Battat's chair.
"No," he said. "You've all helped me so much. What name you used is less important." He paused. "...I was mad at first, but now that I've thought about it... If you're being truthful, there's not much to be mad about. Thanks, Mikes. What are your real names?" he smiled tentatively.
Pluey stepped forward and hummed an excited high note. Jongler nervously adjusted their hat.
"Jongler, sir," they mumbled.
"Well, Pluey and Jongler, it's an honor to meet you! You weren't officially hired as my assistants, so we can go over the details later, but if you want to stay on, you're more than welcome to. Just no more disguises, okay?"
Battat let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and smiled shakily. It seemed like everything was going to be alright.
A couple days later, Battat was jogging up the catwalk stairs again. He put on his headset and took his post, nodding at Jongler and Pluey. He wasn't sure about the others, but he knew he was buzzing with excitement. The stage felt even more electric than normal.
On the ground floor, Shuttah gave the signal that they were rolling, and Tenna greeted the audience in his usual way. After a quick thanks to the sponsors, Tenna dramatically pointed up and exclaimed,
"Battat! The board, please!"
Battat grinned.