#sick!!!

A snap of fingers, clapping hands. Immediately Barkely's on the case. They already know what Tenna wants before he's even said the word. Handing him his cue cards with a smile. They open their mouth to offer to read off his schedule, but he's already walking away again, sorting through and discarding which ones he doesn't like.

Sometimes they wonder why he tells them to write out his lines if he ends up changing them the majority of the time. But, that's not their worry, they're just happy to help! If they're able to make Mr. Tenna's day just a little better, that's what matters. 

They follow along behind him, picking up the cards as they go. He demands something else, something about his coffee, which Barkley again already has at the ready, the perfect temperature, two sugars. They grab it from a pippen and hand it to him as they finish organizing the—now useless—notecards. 

He takes a sip, nodding once and it makes them beam with pride.

"What's the lineup for today, Barky?" Tenna asks as they move from the green room to set. 

They ignore the accidental jab, looking through their clipboard for the schedule. "Well Mr. Tenna, we start off with the morning news, followed by the weather, and then a cooking segment! There's a break for lunch and then—"

"That's it?" He stops in his tracks, they almost collide with him, barely managing to side step as he spins around to face them. 

Barkely hesitates, unsure of what he wants. "What do you mean, sir?" 

"Sparky-I mean Barky, come on. You mean to tell me that's all we have for morning programming? What are we supposed to fill the time with? Infomercials? We'll lose the audience!" He pinches his nose, foot tapping, clearly irritated. Irritated at them, is how they take it. 

Their ears fold down, worried now. "Well um, it's, it's a slow day today, with some reruns in the mix to fill the space. Since we had such a packed lineup of live recordings yesterday... The crew wanted a bit of a break so—"

"The crew? Are you—" Tenna bends down, getting on one knee so to be at eye level with Barkely. "Who's the one that's in charge around here?"

He's so close, much more in their personal bubble than Barkley would like. They can feel the waves of frustration rolling off of him, the way his antennae twitch, the ever-growing frown on his face. 

They swallow, speaking softly. "Y-you are, Mr. Tenna."

"So tell me then, Barks, why the crew's making decisions like that?"

He doesn't give them a chance to respond, instead standing up and clapping his hands, suddenly chipper again. 

"Well, no matter! We'll just have to make do. Oh, and Bradley?" Tenna leans over them, towering. "Keep up the good work." He pats their head once, then walks off, throwing out orders left and right as the crew hurriedly prepares for the first segment of the day. 

Barkley stands there for a moment, frown across their features. They shake it off though, putting on a smile to follow after him and help, just like they're supposed to. 

But as they're going to catch up, they overhear something that sends a pang into their circuit heart. 

A shadowguy and pippen walk by, the former scoffing lightly and muttering. "I don't know why they put up with that, I'dda quit by now if I's was them."

"It's because they're a doormat." The Pippen responds, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. 

The pair keeps walking, not knowing the effect their words just had on the poor idog. They practically freeze in place. There's a strange feeling inside them, they can't quite describe it. There's a numbness, mixed with hurt, fear, anguish, and much more that they're too disoriented to unpack. 

Barkley stumbles forward, only half aware as the cards in their hand scatter across the floor once more. A hand comes up to their head, gripping it as they try to focus enough to get somewhere to sit down. 

They find relief in a dark corner on the edge of the set, sliding back against the wall, clipboard clattering as they clutch their head with both hands. The world around them feels so loud, so overwhelming. And yet, so incredibly quiet. 

So, awfully, lonely. 

They don't know how much time has passed, sitting there, spiraling, consumed by this horrid feeling of, unwantedness. 

They're only brought out it when they hear their name. 

Or at least, some twisted version of it. 

"There you are, Sparky!" Tenna says, walking over to them. "I've been looking for you for hours! What exactly do you think you're doing back here?"

Barkley rub at their eyes, they must've fallen asleep. "Oh, s-sorry, Mr. Tenna. I, I wasn't feeling so good."

"Not feeling well? You better not be sick, we can't afford any setbacks, you know that Barky—"

"That's not my name." They state. 

Tenna halts, actually looking down to them now. "What? I can't hear you when you mumble Brad—"

"I said, that's not, my name." There's a waver to their voice, a falter. "M-my name is, my name is Barkley." Electronic tears prick their eyes, static against the screen that's their face. 

It stings, but they don't really care. They ignore the frown on Tenna's face, not caring for once what he thinks or how he feels or how they can help him. Instead, Barkley curls back in on themself, sniffling. 

It's quiet, so quiet they think he's left. They hope he's left. It was a hopeless endeavor, however. 

There's a hand on their head, soft, cautious. 

"Barkley." Tenna says, tone shockingly tender. 

They hum. 

"Look at me." 

They do, glancing up and finding him crouched down in front of them. The same position as earlier, but there's no anger this time. Instead, he seems... uncomfortable. The frown he's wearing twitches, hand on their head tightening for a moment before releasing. 

"I-" He starts, then stops, looking away. "I'll do better to remember. And I, I meant it when I said you were doing a good job." Another pat to their head, standing up. 

Barkley doesn't know what to say. 

Tenna keeps his gaze averted, nodding once. "Take a bit extra on your lunch break. We'll regroup for the afternoon session when you're ready, okay?"

"Okay."

He walks off, and they're alone again. 

But it doesn't hurt. 

Not as much. 

worms ive told you before but Barkley makes me sick I love them so much... guhhh

thank you for reading

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