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Spoke basically phased through the front door because using doors like a normal person was boring, and also because he'd just pulled off the most incredible prank and he was literally vibrating with the need to tell someone about it.
"MAPICC!" he shouted, already moving through the house at that speed that made his edges blur just slightly. Not quite fast enough to fully flicker out of reality, but close. So close. "MAPICC, YOU'RE NOT GONNA BELIEVE THIS, it was beautiful, man, it was ART, it was—"
He skidded to a stop in the hallway, nearly phasing through the wall in his excitement before he caught himself. His hands were already gesturing wildly at nothing, the words spilling out even though no one was there to hear them. Where was Mapicc? Usually by now he'd have appeared, tail wagging, ready to hear about whatever chaos Spoke had caused. Sometimes he'd even be in the middle of his own prank and they'd compare notes.
But the house was too quiet. Eerily quiet.
"Mapicc?" Spoke called again, bouncing on his heels, that restless energy making his fingers flicker at the edges. He clenched and unclenched his hands, watching them solidify. The void hummed under his skin, responding to his manic energy. He'd been running around all day—literally running, the kind of speed that made the world blur and his form shift between solid and not. He had so many ideas, so many plans, and he needed to tell Mapicc about all of them right now or he might actually explode.
He checked the kitchen first—empty, though there were signs Mapicc had been there earlier. A half-eaten sandwich on the counter, a cup of water. Spoke took the stairs two at a time, still talking to himself because silence was physically painful when he had this much energy.
"And then—and THEN—I—"
He basically threw himself at Mapicc’s door and crashed it open without knocking because knocking was also boring and he was excited and—
He stopped dead.
Mapicc was curled up on his bed, face pressed into his pillow, and even from across the room Spoke could see how his ears were pinned flat against his head. Not just drooped—completely flat, pressed against his skull in that way that meant something was really, really wrong. His tail was tucked close to his body, wrapped around himself protectively, and his shoulders were shaking.
The sound hit Spoke next—that soft, hitching whine that dogs made when they were hurt or scared or sad. The kind of sound that made something in Spoke's chest crack. Mapicc was crying.
All of Spoke's frantic energy came to a screeching halt. The words died on his tongue. His hands stopped their constant movement.
"Oh," he said quietly.
Mapicc's ears twitched at his voice, but he didn't look up. If anything, he curled tighter into himself, that whining sound getting quieter like he was trying to hide it. Trying to be small. Trying to disappear.
Spoke stood frozen in the doorway for a long moment, his mind suddenly racing in an entirely different direction. He'd been ready for chaos, for laughter, for causing problems on purpose. The void was still thrumming through him, eager and restless, begging him to move, to run, to flicker.
But Mapicc was crying.
Mapicc, who always had a smile ready. Mapicc, who kept Spoke tethered to reality on his worst days. Mapicc, who would follow Spoke into any terrible idea with his tail wagging and mischief in his eyes. Mapicc, who was family in the truest sense of the word.
Mapicc, who was curled up so small and sad that it made Spoke's chest physically hurt.
Okay. Okay. He could do this. He could switch gears. He was adaptable. He was flexible. He could absolutely push all that chaos down for later—and oh, it was definitely getting saved for later, he had PLANS, so many plans—but right now, right now his person needed him.
Spoke took a deep breath, willing his form to stay solid and his movements to slow down. It took effort, real effort, to walk—actually walk, at a normal human pace instead of that flickering speed he'd been operating at all day—over to the bed. Each step felt too slow, but he made himself do it. Made himself be careful.
He sat down gently on the edge of the bed, close enough to touch but not crowding. "Hey," he said again, reaching out to gently rest his hand on Mapicc's shoulder. "What's going on, bud?"
Mapicc made another one of those soft whining sounds, ears still completely flat against his head, and Spoke's chest did something complicated and painful. His fingers flickered at the edges—emotion always made control harder—but he focused on staying solid. Staying present.
"Nope, okay, none of that," Spoke said, his voice taking on that particular tone he used when he was determined about something. Gentle but firm. "Come here, we're doing this. Cuddle time is mandatory."
He didn't wait for permission—Mapicc wouldn't ask for help, Spoke knew that about him, knew it the same way he knew his own name—so he just crawled fully onto the bed and started trying to maneuver Mapicc out of his tight ball. It was like trying to unfold a particularly stubborn cat, if cats were built like border collies and had more emotional baggage than they knew what to do with.
"Come on, work with me here," Spoke muttered, gently tugging at Mapicc's shoulder, his other hand already moving to pet through Mapicc's hair. "I know you're sad or whatever but you're making this really difficult, and I'm trying to be comforting here."
"Go 'way," Mapicc mumbled into his pillow, voice wrecked from crying, thick and broken in a way that made Spoke want to wrap Mapicc in a blanket and never let anything hurt him again.
"Absolutely not. Not happening. That ship has sailed, crashed into an iceberg, and sunk." Spoke managed to get an arm around Mapicc's middle, carefully pulling him away from where he'd been trying to meld with the pillow. "You're stuck with me. Those are the rules. I don't make them, I just enforce them very enthusiastically."
"Spoke—" The word came out broken, and Mapicc's hands came up to weakly push at Spoke's chest, but there was no real force behind it.
"Nope! No Spoke-ing at me in that tone. I'm committed now. I'm all in." He finally managed to pull Mapicc away from the pillow, immediately tucking him against his chest, wrapping both arms around him firmly. Mapicc resisted for maybe half a second before he crumpled completely, pressing his face into Spoke's chest and just—breaking. His hands clutched at Spoke's hoodie like a lifeline, and the whining sounds got worse before they got better.
Spoke held him tighter, one hand coming up to cradle the back of Mapicc's head while the other wrapped securely around his back. "There we go," he said softly, his usual manic energy channeled into something gentler but no less intense. "There we go, I've got you. You're okay. We're okay."
He started doing what Mapicc always did for him when their positions were switched—running his fingers through Mapicc's hair in long, soothing strokes. Finding those soft ears that were still pinned flat and scratching gently at the base, right where he knew Mapicc liked it. His touch was careful, methodical, grounding.
"I've got you," Spoke repeated, quieter this time, and he felt Mapicc shudder against him. "You're safe. You're okay. I'm right here."
Mapicc made a sound that might have been a laugh or a sob or both, his face still hidden against Spoke's chest. His hands were still fisted in Spoke's hoodie, holding on like Spoke might disappear.
Spoke held him tighter. Stayed solid. Stayed present.
"So," Spoke said after a moment, keeping his voice light and conversational even as his fingers worked gentle circles behind Mapicc's ears, "I know you're having a bad day or whatever, but I gotta say, the whole 'sad dog' thing you've got going on? Not your best look. You're much better at the 'happy dog' thing. Way more on brand. The tail wagging, the ear perking, the general enthusiasm for literally everything—that's the Mapicc I know."
Mapicc let out a wet, shaky laugh against Spoke's chest. "Shut up."
"Never. It's physically impossible for me to shut up, you know this. It's against my nature." Spoke kept up the gentle petting, his other hand rubbing slow, firm circles on Mapicc's back. The kind of pressure that was grounding, that said I'm here, you're real, we're both real. "I've tried. Multiple people have asked me to shut up. Can't do it. My mouth just keeps making words. It's a medical condition. Very serious."
"It's not," Mapicc mumbled, but some of the tension was starting to leave his shoulders. His grip on Spoke's hoodie loosened just slightly.
"It absolutely is. Very serious medical condition. Chronic inability to stop talking." Spoke's fingers found a particularly good spot behind Mapicc's ear and scratched there carefully, and he felt Mapicc melt a little more against him. "The only known treatment is letting me talk at you about all my problems instead of dealing with yours. It's very advanced medicine. Experimental, even."
Another watery laugh. Mapicc's ears twitched slightly, not quite as flat anymore. Progress.
"That's what I thought," Spoke said with satisfaction, pressing his cheek against the top of Mapicc's head in something that was almost a nuzzle. "See? I'm basically a doctor now. Dr. Spoke. Has a nice ring to it.”
"You're an idiot," Mapicc said, but his voice was softer now, less wrecked. His breathing was starting to even out.
"Yeah, but I'm your idiot." Spoke adjusted his position, pulling Mapicc more securely against him, arranging them so they were more comfortable. "Your idiot who's not going anywhere, by the way. In case you were wondering. I'm here for the long haul. The extended stay. The—"
"I get it," Mapicc interrupted, but there was the faintest hint of amusement in his voice now.
"Do you though? Because I can keep going. I've got metaphors for days." Spoke's hand never stopped moving, alternating between petting through Mapicc's hair and scratching behind his ears. "Now come on, talk to me. What happened? Who did what? Who do I need to mess up, man?”
"No one to mess up," Mapicc said quietly. His tail uncurled just slightly, the tip giving one small, hesitant wag. "Just... bad day. Bad brain day."
"Ah." Spoke knew about those. The days when everything felt too big or too small, when the world didn't make sense in the right ways, when your own head was your worst enemy. He had them too, when the void pulled at him too hard and keeping solid felt impossible, when he wanted to just disappear into that endless cold emptiness and never come back. "Okay. Those are the worst. I hate those. Those days can go straight into the void and stay there."
"Yeah," Mapicc agreed softly.
Spoke pulled back just enough to look at Mapicc's face. His eyes were red and puffy, tear tracks still visible on his cheeks, and his ears were still drooped—not flat anymore, but not up either. Spoke reached up with one hand and gently wiped away the tear tracks with his thumb, his touch careful.
"But you know what's good about bad brain days?" Spoke continued, his thumb still brushing softly against Mapicc's cheek before moving back up to scratch behind his ear. "They end. They always end. That's like, the one universal constant. Even when it feels like they won't, they do."
Mapicc leaned into the touch, his eyes closing. "Doesn't feel like it right now."
"I know. But trust me on this one. Tomorrow you'll wake up—probably to me doing something incredibly stupid, let's be honest—and things will be better. Maybe not perfect, but better." Spoke's other hand was still working gentle patterns on Mapicc's back. "And I'll probably be planning to fill someone's base with chickens. Just absolutely full of chickens. Floor to ceiling chickens."
Mapicc snorted softly, his lips quirking up just slightly. "Chickens?"
"So many chickens. An unreasonable amount of chickens. An amount of chickens that should probably be illegal." Spoke was absolutely making this up as he went along, but Mapicc's ears were starting to perk up just slightly, so he kept going. His fingers never stopped their gentle movements. "And someone will try to help me because they think it's funny, but then the chickens will start escaping and it'll become a whole thing, and you'll be there with that look you get—you know the one—where you're trying to be mad but you're actually just trying not to laugh."
"I don't have a look," Mapicc protested weakly, but he was almost smiling now.
"You absolutely have a look.” He scratched behind Mapicc's other ear now, methodical and soothing, using both hands now to cup Mapicc's face and work behind both ears at once. Mapicc made a soft, pleased sound. "You do it like three times a day minimum. Sometimes more if I'm being particularly chaotic."
Mapicc was quiet for a moment, his breathing evening out more, before he said softly, "You don't have to stay. If you've got... you've got all that energy. You probably want to go run around or something.“
Spoke immediately pulled Mapicc back against his chest, wrapping his arms around him tightly. "Okay, first of all, rude. Second of all, wrong. Third of all—" He squeezed Mapicc gently, pressing his face against the top of Mapicc's head. "You really think I'm gonna leave you like this? Come on. Give me some credit here."
"But—"
"But nothing." Spoke's hand went back to Mapicc's ears, scratching gently, the other arm still wrapped securely around him. "Yeah, I'm like, vibrating out of my skin right now. I've probably got enough energy to run across the entire server twice. Maybe three times. The void's doing that thing where it wants me to just go and go and go until I flicker out of reality completely." He felt his edges blur just slightly at the mention of it before he pulled himself solid again, focusing on the weight of Mapicc in his arms. "But you know what's more important than all that?"
Mapicc shook his head slightly, his ear flicking against Spoke's palm.
"You, dummy." Spoke said it matter-of-factly, like it was obvious, like it was the easiest truth in the world. "You're more important. You're family. You're my best friend. You're the person who keeps me grounded when the void gets too loud. And family doesn't leave when things get hard or sad or when someone's having a bad brain day." He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Mapicc's head, casual and affectionate. "Besides, all that chaos I'm feeling? I'm just saving it for later. Banking it. It's gonna be so much worse now that I've had time to plan. Everyone should be scared."
"You're ridiculous," Mapicc said, but his voice was warmer now, and his tail was starting to wag properly.
"Yeah, and you love me for it." Spoke pulled him back in, tucking Mapicc's head under his chin and resuming the gentle petting. One hand working through his hair while the other traced soothing patterns on his back. "Now come on, stop looking at me with those sad puppy eyes. They're breaking my heart and I need my heart intact to plan elaborate pranks."
"Not doing it on purpose," Mapicc mumbled against Spoke's shoulder, but he was definitely relaxing now, his body going heavier and warmer against Spoke's.
"I know. But you're still doing it. Very tragic. Heartbreaking, even." Spoke's fingers worked through Mapicc's hair in long, careful strokes, scratching at his scalp in the way he knew Mapicc liked. "You're lucky you're cute when you're sad or I'd be making way more fun of you right now. Like, so much more fun. I'm showing remarkable restraint."
"You're already making fun of me."
"Yeah, but like, gently. Affectionately. With love and tenderness." Spoke could feel Mapicc relaxing more against him, the tension slowly draining away with each gentle touch. "If I was really making fun of you, I'd bring up that time you got excited about a butterfly and ran face-first into a tree."
“That was ONE TIME.”
Or that time you ate a flower because you thought it looked tasty—"
"Okay, that's enough—" But Mapicc was laughing now, that soft, genuine laugh that made Spoke's chest feel warm and full.
"But see? You're laughing now instead of crying. That's improvement. Major improvement. I'm basically a professional therapist." Spoke shifted them both so they were lying down properly, Mapicc sprawled half on top of him, still wrapped securely in Spoke's arms. "Comfortable?"
"Yeah," Mapicc admitted quietly, his head tucked perfectly under Spoke's chin. His ears were almost back to their normal position now, just slightly drooped. His tail gave a proper wag. "Yeah, this is... this is good."
"Good. Now I'm gonna keep petting you until you fall asleep or until I physically can't stay still anymore, whichever comes first." Spoke was still thrumming with energy—his leg was bouncing slightly, his free hand tapping against his own thigh in a restless rhythm—but he kept the hand in Mapicc's hair steady and gentle, never faltering. "And I'm gonna keep talking because, like I said, medical condition. Chronic. Incurable."
"What are you gonna talk about?" Mapicc sounded drowsy now, the emotional exhaustion catching up to him, his voice soft and content.
"Oh, I've got topics. So many topics. An endless supply of topics." Spoke launched into a detailed explanation of his prank from earlier, every detail, every near-miss, every moment where he'd almost gotten caught. His voice was animated, excited, but his hands never stopped their gentle, grounding movements.
He walked Mapicc through the entire process, his voice bright with enthusiasm as he described his past experiences. His fingers never stopped moving through Mapicc's hair, scratching behind his ears, rubbing gentle circles on his back.
"And the best part—the BEST part—was when they finally realised something was wrong, and they were trying to find me after I said I was the Director, and I'm hiding nearby trying not to laugh." Spoke's grin was audible in his voice. "I almost gave myself away like three times because I kept wanting to giggle."
Mapicc made a soft, amused sound against Spoke's chest.
"Right? It was perfect. Peak comedy."
He talked about other times he had caused mischief too—the Ashswag and Squiddo base, the Reddoons base, everything.
"Oh! And I was thinking—" Spoke continued, his voice taking on that particular excitement that meant he'd just thought of something really good. “We should go and visit Squiddo sometime soon too. Stop by, maybe go and see Jepex too!”
Mapicc made a sleepy sound of agreement, his breathing getting deeper and more even. His ears were fully relaxed now, and his tail was doing that slow, content wag that meant he felt safe. Spoke could feel the weight of him, solid and real and here.
"And then there's this thing I've been planning with—" Spoke paused, glancing down. "Wait, are you falling asleep on me?"
"Mm-mm," Mapicc mumbled, clearly lying, his face still pressed against Spoke's chest.
"You absolutely are. You're doing the thing where you get all heavy and warm and boneless." But Spoke's voice was unbearably fond, soft in a way he rarely allowed himself to be. His hand continued its gentle movement through Mapicc's hair. "Fine. You can sleep. But only because you had a bad day and I'm being exceptionally nice right now. This is premium friend behavior. Top tier."
"You're always nice to me," Mapicc said quietly, his voice thick with sleep.
Spoke felt something warm and complicated bloom in his chest, something that made his edges flicker for just a moment before he pulled himself solid again.
The void pulled at him, wanting him to move, to run, to flicker and phase and cause chaos. His leg was still bouncing, his free hand still tapping out complex rhythms against his thigh. He had so much energy, so many ideas, so many things he wanted to do.
But Mapicc was warm and solid against him, finally relaxed, finally peaceful. His breathing was even and deep, his tail still doing that slow wag even as he dozed off. His ears were soft under Spoke's fingers, and his hands were still loosely gripping Spoke's hoodie.
This—this was more important than any prank. This mattered more than chaos or energy or the void's constant pull. This was Mapicc, who had stayed by Spoke's side through every bad void day, every moment when Spoke couldn't stay solid, every time the emptiness got too loud. Mapicc, who never judged, never left, never gave up on him.
"Yeah," Spoke said softly, pressing another gentle kiss to the top of Mapicc's head, his fingers still working through his hair in slow, soothing strokes. "Yeah, I guess I am. Can't help it. You make it easy."
He kept petting, kept that gentle, grounding contact even as his mind continued to race through prank ideas and chaos plans. He'd save it all for tomorrow. Tomorrow he'd wake Mapicc up early—maybe not too early, he'd let him sleep in a bit—with some ridiculous scheme, and Mapicc would grumble and complain and then help him anyway because that's what they did. That was their thing.
But today, right now, this was what Mapicc needed. And what Mapicc needed, Spoke would give. Always.
Spoke shifted carefully, making sure Mapicc was comfortable, pulling the blanket up over them both with his free hand. Mapicc made a small, content sound, burrowing closer into Spoke's warmth.
"You're my best friend," Spoke said to the quiet room, to Mapicc who was definitely asleep now, his breathing deep and even. "Just so you know. You're my best friend and my family and my person and I'd fight my way through the invis mafia again a million times just for you."
Mapicc's tail did one sleepy wag in response, and Spoke smiled, soft and genuine.
He let his head fall back against the pillow, his hand still moving in gentle patterns through Mapicc's hair, behind his ears, down his back. The repetitive motion was almost meditative, grounding in its own way. His other hand eventually stilled its tapping, coming to rest on Mapicc's back.
The void hummed at the edges of his consciousness, patient and eternal. It would always be there, that pull toward emptiness and chaos. But so would this. So would Mapicc's steady breathing, the weight of him, the trust implicit in the way he'd fallen asleep on Spoke like this.
Because that's what family did.
Spoke did eventually fall into a light doze, though his mind never fully quieted.
When he woke up a few hours later—the afternoon sun casting long shadows across the room—Mapicc was still asleep, now drooling slightly on Spoke's shoulder. His ears were relaxed and soft, his expression peaceful in a way it hadn't been when Spoke first found him. His tail was curled around both of them, like even in sleep he was trying to keep them connected.
Spoke didn't mind the drool. He carefully reached up with his free hand and brushed a strand of hair out of Mapicc's face, gentle and affectionate. He looked at peace now. Better.
Slowly, carefully, Spoke started to extract himself from the cuddle pile. It took some maneuvering—Mapicc had essentially turned into a very clingy octopus at some point.
Mapicc mumbled something in his sleep, his hand reaching out toward where Spoke had been. Spoke quickly grabbed a pillow and tucked it into Mapicc's arms. Mapicc immediately latched onto it, pulling it close with a contented sigh, his tail giving a sleepy wag.
Spoke grinned, something warm and soft settling in his chest. He pulled Mapicc's blanket up over him properly, made sure he was covered and warm and comfortable.
"Sleep well," Spoke whispered, reaching down to scratch behind Mapicc's ear one more time. Mapicc leaned into the touch even in sleep, and Spoke's grin got softer. "Tomorrow you're gonna have to save the server from my terrible ideas. So rest up."
He stood there for another moment, just watching. Making sure Mapicc was really okay, really sleeping peacefully. The room was quiet except for Mapicc's soft breathing and the occasional sleepy sound he made.
Satisfied, Spoke turned and phased through the door, already feeling that banked energy starting to bubble back up. Now that Mapicc was okay, now that he'd done what needed to be done, he could let himself move again.
He bounded down the stairs, that manic energy finally getting its outlet. By the time he hit the main floor, he was already flickering with speed, moving between solid and not-solid, ideas pouring out of him faster than he could keep track of.
He pulled out his communicator and started going to Capital City’s coordinates. Plans needed to be made. He had hours of pent-up energy and he was going to use every bit of it.
Within minutes, he was bursting through the front door and taking off at that speed that made the world blur. The void sang in his veins, delighted with the movement, the freedom, the chaos. He ran across the server, scouting locations, acquiring supplies, setting things in motion.
But the best part, the part that made Spoke grin was knowing that tomorrow morning, Mapicc would wake up feeling better. He'd come downstairs with his ears perked up and his tail wagging, he'd see the chaos Spoke had caused overnight, and he'd give Spoke that look—the 'you're impossible but I love you anyway' look that Spoke had memorized down to the smallest detail.
And then they'd cause problems together. Like always.
That was the deal. That was family. That was them.
And when one of them was hurting, the other one stayed. They dropped everything, pushed aside the chaos or the sadness or whatever else was happening, and they just—stayed. They held each other through the bad brain days and the void days and all the moments in between.
Because that's what love looked like, even if it was platonic. Especially because it was platonic. The kind of love that said I choose you, I keep choosing you, I will always choose you.
Spoke phased through another wall, his form flickering with joy and energy and all that saved-up chaos. Tomorrow was going to be amazing. Today had been hard, but it had also been important. Necessary.
He'd do it again in a heartbeat. Every time. Always.
Because Mapicc was worth it. They were worth it. This—this strange little family they'd built—was worth everything.