Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Within the hour, the lot of them are gone. Most were picked up by grandparents within a half hour of your conversation with Emily and Clark. Only a few of the kids’ guardians fussed about the early dismissal. The daycare so seldom closed, and attending is seen as so prestigious, that the kids rarely had a chance to spend a day with extended family like this.

A small seed of resentment buries itself within you to see how easily these families deal with the loss of their routine childcare. No one from your side of the tracks would’ve been so stress-free about this. These grandparents would’ve had to call off work, rather than spending their retirement with the little ones. Still, you manage to give your best customer service act to those picking up. They’re all out by lunch, and none the wiser of your slight bitterness.

You immediately head back to Sun the instant the front door slides behind the last family. He’s very nearly melted into his seat, his fans going a mile a minute as he decompresses. When you sit next to him, heat radiates off him in waves. You run a hand back and forth across his forearm in an attempt to console. Sun’s expression twists, which he quickly hides behind his free hand, but he doesn’t pull away.

You scoot closer, allowing his arm to drape across your legs when the distance closes. “What’s going on, Sun? I haven’t seen you like this before.”

He takes a shuddering breath. You wonder why he does when he doesn’t need to breathe. Perhaps just to make him look more human. It sure as hell works. “There’s so much,” he mumbles, voicebox crackling again. “There’s so much, I don’t- It’s too much. I’m sorry, I know I s-should do better, b-but I can’t… I c-can’t…”

You shush him quietly as you press a hand against the side of his faceplate. His rays retract immediately to make space for you. “Hey, easy. Take it easy. We have all day, no need to rush. You’re not doing anything wrong. Why don’t we take this one step at a time? How does that sound?”

Sun nods and leans into your hand, eyes closed, but doesn’t say anything else. You so very much want to curl up with him, to provide that comfort for the both of you, but with how warm he is, you don’t dare make things worse with your own body heat. You just let your fingertips graze against the back of one of his rays instead. It seems to help. The more you repeat the motion, the more he unfurls in small ways, his feet no longer tucked under the bean bag and his shoulders no longer raised.

The tension you noted from earlier doesn’t leave him, though.

“So what’s going on?” you ask. “The little bots and Freddy were stressed because of the mechanic being here today. Is that getting to you, too?”

Something in his chassis gets louder, which is all the answer you need. You draw your fingers in a longer arc against him in the next pass you make, murmuring softly.

“Easy, easy. I’ve got you. If today’s not a good day to do maintenance, you don’t have to. He’s here for Monty anyways. You don’t have to worry about that.”

Sun opens his eyes halfway, his gaze focused on your hand that’s pressed against the side of his face. He looks worn out, and absolutely miserable. “I hafta get maintenance done soon. It might as well be today. If I… If I just got over it, got it over and done with, I wouldn’t have to worry about it for a while…! I just, gotta be brave about it… It’s not that bad…!”

Oh, you don’t like the sound of that. You steel yourself in the way water freezes into ice, naturally, an immutable and logical response to a stimulus, something that would happen every time without fail. “No,” you state. Your tone is easy, kind, but does not leave room for doubt. “We’re not doing that today. I don’t know what it is about maintenance that doesn’t go well for you, but you’re not going through it today. You’re having a hard enough time as it is. No.”

His spine goes rigid. Behind your hand, you can feel the mechanisms that move his rays lock. “I- I h-have to at some point… Nothing will get f-fixed otherwise, so-”

“We’ll find a different way,” you say, that same steadiness never leaving you. “I’ve worked on Monty and Chica now. I bet I can do some of your maintenance too. We can do some patch work while we figure out a permanent solution.”

He flinches, nearly pulling back from your hand before he settles himself again. “… I don’t really want you to do my maintenance, Sunshine…”

How bad did things get for him to be this hesitant? It eats at you that you don’t know what’s hurt him before. Your mind begins to wander towards ideas of how you might provide him some comfort while you chat. “How come? You can ask Chica, it went well. We didn’t have any trouble.”

“No, I… I’m different to work on. Harder, from what I’ve heard. Difficult…” He takes your hand off of his head and holds it, staring at it with something akin to remorse, although it doesn’t make sense for that to be the case. “Emily said it’s because I’m newer than the others, and special in a few ways! But it, um, also makes maintenance, bad… I don’t wanna have to go through that with you.”

He’s talking around something, avoiding part of the conversation. You’re accustomed to him enough to recognize that by this point. His fans have calmed down enough now that you feel it won’t harm anything to be closer, so you climb into his lap. Sun instantly shifts so you can be comfortable, then drapes an arm around your waist, all without having to look at you. It’s easy, effortless, a pattern the two of you have fallen into without ever needing to practice.

“What is it about maintenance that’s bad, Sunny? You said other people have a hard time working on you, but you seem really nervous about it. What’re you worried is going to happen if I help you with maintenance?”

The arm he has around you tightens. You’re reminded of holding onto someone to keep them from wandering away. His rays retract so far that only the points of them are visible. It takes him a long time to speak, and when it does, he’s painfully quiet. “I don’t want you to hurt me…”

A low, keening cry escapes you. You have your arms wrapped around him before he can even blink. “Sun, I’d never. I promise I’d never, ever hurt you, not on purpose, and if I ever hurt you on accident I’d want you to tell me so I can stop and make it better. I don’t want to hurt you, Sun. I don’t want to hurt you.”

He chuckles, a strained sound that hurts you to hear. “M-maintenance hurts, always has, no matter who does it. It’s just l-like that for me…! It’s not anyone’s fault! I just don’t want… You’ve been so nice, I… A-and I don’t wanna tell you w-what to do…! I w-won’t stop you if you decide that’s what you want to do! That’s probably bad of me to say!” His hand grips the back of your shirt so hard it nearly pulls you back. You don’t think he meant to hold on that tightly, but you don’t mind. “I just, don’t wanna be hurt, for once, I guess…”

You shake your head, throat tight. “Don’t worry about that. I’m not going to hurt you. Thank you for telling me so I know.” It doesn’t escape your notice that apparently everyone else who’s ever worked on him has hurt him. You nestle your face into his shoulder in an attempt to be as close as you can. It seems to help with how he eases back, the ticking in his chest becoming steadier. Pressed up against him like this, you note how he smells like hard candy and metal dust. It’s familiar, comforting. Absently, you wonder what, if anything, he finds comforting about your presence.

“You can tell me no. I promise I won’t be angry if you tell me no. You’re allowed to have boundaries, especially with me. I mean, if you draw those boundaries in a way where I can’t help you, I might push back, but you do have the final say. Nothing has to happen that you don’t want to happen. What’s most important is that you feel safe, okay?”

Sun nods, hesitantly and shallowly, but you’ll take his agreement to that statement however you can get it. You pull back some, far enough where you can see his face yet close enough where you can still feel the heat radiating off him.

You tilt your head to the side as you ask your question. “Do you feel safe with me, Sun?”

A pause, then he nods again, tentatively, as his hand worries against the fabric of your shirt. “I… think so…? I’m not, really used to it. It’s a little weird!” He offers you a lopsided smile. “Being around you is the safest I’ve ever felt.”

“Good. All I want is for you to be happy. I wish you could’ve felt safe sooner, but I’m glad you can feel that way now. I-”

You stop short when Sun runs his hands up through your hair. You stop functioning at all, really. A shiver passes down your spine as his fingers curl around your scalp in careful, small circles. He crouches slightly to look at you more directly, the ghost of worry etched across his face. You suddenly become aware of how close he’s made himself to you, how close you’ve kept yourself to him.

Now it’s your turn to overheat, your cheeks flushed out of nowhere.

“Do you feel safe with me, Sunshine?” he asks, his tone so, so careful, his posture frozen in motion as if ready to shatter at the wrong touch.

This Fazbear animatronic, who is seven and a half feet of metal, who is statistically likely to have severely hurt someone in the past, is asking you if you feel safe with him. This robot, who you were so uncertain of at first glance, who everyone else has found unsettling, wants to know if you feel comfortable with him.

You have your answer immediately, unwaveringly, even if it takes you a moment to remember how to speak.

“Y-yes. Always. I don’t think there’s anywhere else I feel safer. I like being here with you. It’s… calming. Nice.”

Sun immediately melts like being tense about this topic had never occurred to him. A hum resonates through his chest, his machinery moving more smoothly than you’ve ever heard it. “Good,” he says, his smile finally reaching his eyes.

And there’s a proud, protective element in his voice, in that one word, that sends an unexpected thrill through you.

In the way he says it, good sounds an awful lot like mine .

Whatever that was, it leaves Sun as quickly as it appeared, replaced with a more tired version of that worry from before. “I want to be able to keep you safe, Sunshine.” His gaze lowers to the top of where your claw marks start. One of his hands wanders down so his palm rests against the top of your neck. It takes all your willpower not to flinch or stiffen.

Now’s probably not a good time to mention what happened with Moon.

You take a hold of his wrist gently, lingering there in the same way his touch lingers on you. “Hey. Together, right? Whatever comes up, we can work through it together.”

Sun huffs, mouth pursed. The corners of your eyes crease. It’s always just a bit cute when he pouts like that, regardless of how serious the conversation is. “Yes, but you’re also so delicate, and this place isn’t safe. It worries me sometimes, you being here. What if something happens when you’re with the others?”

Delicate . You’re not sure how to feel about that. Now’s probably not the time to figure it out, though. You take a long moment before replying, gathering your thoughts. “That’s the risk I’m taking. I knew I could get hurt when I signed on, but I still decided to be here. I’m quite aware that I could get hurt again. I’m staying, though, so long as you’ll have me. If you told me to leave and I felt like you really meant it, I’d leave, but I’m not going anywhere so long as you want me here.”

There’s a question present in his features, but you get to your feet before he can ask it. His hands trail after you, as always, and you return the gesture, fingers grazing down across his arm until the only contact you have is your fingertips against his. Like a fulcrum between you two. A way to keep balanced.

A way to remain safe.

“I have something I want to grab really quickly. I’ll be right back, if that’s alright. I won’t be gone long. We can keep talking when I get back, okay?”

Sun nods pathetically. His fans begin to escalate again, even as he remains perfectly still. You give him a smile and squeeze his hand, then head out through the back of the daycare.

Some of the cleaner bots are stacked on top of each other by the door. They’re so close that you nearly knock over the roomba tower when you step into the back. Both you and the bots startle, their eyes wide and some of them looking around frantically.

“Oh, hey,” you say as you close the door behind you. “What’re you guys doing-?”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, they scatter, the tower dissolving like dominoes and the bots darting off like mice. You blink. The hell was that? And why were they here in the first place?

It’s too bad they ran off like that. You needed their help with your task.

It isn’t a problem, though. There are some bots in the maintenance halls, as always. And just your luck, one of them you recognize on sight. All of the bots are unique, and you can usually pick out patterns between them if you interact long enough, but some you’re familiar with enough that you recognize them from a distance. Chip’s one, and this one, Gigo, is another. They usually hang around Chip, and you’ve named them for how serious they are normally, yet how goofy they can get when around that little agent of chaos. You’ve had coffee before in the halls just to watch them interact.

“Hey, Gigo!” you call. They stop and turn around to face you, making the tilting motion you now understand is always an acknowledgment and a question at once. “Got a minute?”

They beep affirmatively, just once, efficiently, and wheel over to you. As they get closer, you note how the LEDs of their eyes are narrower than normal, squinted as if they’re amused or pleased. You have no clue why, and you so wish you had a way to ask. It’s not like they can talk back to you, though, not in a way that’d give you an answer if you don’t already have a guess. Gigo’s not one to play twenty questions either unless Chip’s around, who has been markedly absent all day.

You crouch down once they’re right up next to you. “Would you be able to get something from maintenance for me? I’m sorry to ask. I hope it’s not too much trouble.”

That amusement falls off immediately. They shuffle back and forth with their lights off, a resounding ‘no,’ then trill apologetically.

Well. That wasn’t the answer you were hoping for. You scrunch your face up to the side in thought. “That’s alright. Would you be able to take me there? I know I’m not allowed in, but maybe Kevin can grab me what I need from inside.”

Gigo’s eyes narrow as they cast them down and to the side. Something metallic taps underneath them, which you imagine is probably one of their claws against the floor. Even when Chip’s not around, you’ve noted Gigo to be more expressive with their limbs than most. Finally, they look up at you doubtfully. You’ve never seen a more reluctant grimace from a creature without a mouth before.

You chuckle and pat their head. They don’t need to speak to get that point across. “I’m sure. I’ll be alright. You think some flimsy mechanic can be more of a menace than me? Have a lil faith.”

Their seriousness breaks with a laugh, light, short trills following each other in short succession. Gigo raises their arms from underneath themselves and shrugs in acquiescence, then motions for you to follow. Well, at least they trust you to handle the situation. You wish you had the same confidence in yourself.

The maintenance room is huge from your understanding, a mixture of a workshop and a spare room for additional parts, not only for the animatronics, but for anything that has electricity running through it. It’d be more apt to call it a maintenance warehouse than room. However, the last time you were nosy and looked inside the window on the door to maintenance, there was a reasonably sized room closed off from the rest of the area. A bunch of equipment sits on the rear wall that you don’t understand, in addition to more cabinets and lockers than you feel could ever be necessary.

When you peer inside, a good portion of that equipment has been dragged into the center of the room with Monty strapped into it. He’s markedly quiet and still. It doesn’t immediately register that he’s powered down. Your breath catches when that fact hits you. Seeing him like that doesn’t look right, eyes dark and frame rigid. Like he’s dead. You wouldn’t say you and Monty are friends, not by a long shot, but even so, you’re not happy seeing him like this.

Something in you, something that knows how to hate , bares its teeth at the though of Sun or Moon ever being put into a similar situation.

Gigo does not open the door for you as sparks fly and metal creaks inside. You glance down at him, but you don’t ask. He knows this place better than you do. Still, you are rather confused as he just stares placidly at the door, looking rather bored if anything. You turn your attention back to the room. From here, you can see the mechanic, Kevin presumably, crouched over Monty with a welding mask on, his blonde hair streaked with motor oil in a few places.

A few minutes go by before the activity inside ceases. Kevin push the mask off his face until he’s at the door, which opens on its own with no prompting from him. The smell of spilled oil and burnt electronics hits you so hard you nearly gag. Even Gigo seems to roll back a pace at the affront.

When Kevin’s cleared his line of sight, he blinks in surprise to see you standing there. He looks between you and Gigo, then tilts his head. “So you’re why I’ve been getting messages saying my ‘attendance is requested?’ Can I help you? You’re not really supposed to be down here. This area is off limits.”

You offer a smile and your hand as you work very hard to keep your focus on Kevin and not the too-still form of Monty behind him. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m the new Caretaker.”

“Oh!” He takes the mask off entirely now, much more engaged with you and this conversation now that he gets you’re not a patron. “I didn’t realize you were here today or I would’ve dropped by. I’m the mechanic, obviously. Kevin.” He shows you his grease-stained hand apologetically. “I’d greet you properly, but this job has been a mess and I don’t want to make that your problem. Sorry.”

“No trouble.” You lower your hand, and it doesn’t bother you at all that you didn’t touch. You wouldn’t quite call it a relief, as you don’t care that much, but it’s close. “I was just wondering if you could grab me a few things? I’ve been trying to do some basic care with the animatronics, but it’s been hard to get materials when they won’t let me in here yet.”

Kevin grins. “Tell me about it. I had to bring in all my own tools my first month. Do you have any idea what a pain that was? Once you have full access, the job gets a lot easier. I don’t know what your job’s like, but this place can be really easy to work in once you find your stride.”

You smile politely as you put in a tremendous effort to not scoff. Yeah, you bet this job is easy when you don’t do any of the work you’re supposed to, and then only do your job in a way that stresses everyone around you out. But you remind yourself that you’re supposed to have patience, that Freddy’s hoping you can build some rapport with this guy, and you force yourself to let those thoughts go. “Yeah, I’m looking forward to coming on full time. In the meantime, would you be able to grab those things for me?”

“Of course! What, like I’m gonna say no to you helping me out?” His grin widens while yours grows strained. You simply thank him and tell him what you need. Kevin goes to fetch it for you, chattering all the way.

“You know, we should get lunch sometime or something. I’d love to hear about why you’ve come here. And man! I’ve got some stories about this place that you wouldn’t believe ! I think they’d fire me on the spot if I told you right now, but once you’re fully onboard, we gotta talk. It’s been killing me to keep it to myself. What’s your favorite place to eat?”

He brings you your items while very nearly smirking about having secrets that he thinks you don’t know about. You allow your eyes to widen appropriately in order to keep the appearance of interest. “Doesn’t really matter to me. You seem really busy today, though, so maybe we can figure that out some other time. It was good to meet you, and thank you for the help.”

“No problem!” Kevin tosses a glance over his shoulder with a resigned frown. “This isn’t a job I’m looking forward to. I’ll probably have to come in tomorrow to finish it. Moon really did a number on him. Did just about as much damage as he could without killing the bastard.” He chuckles, but the note ends sour. “As much as I love to see Monty get what he deserves, this is a lot of work. Parts of the endoskeleton are just mangled. Ugh.”

You immediately go still. You hadn’t realized it was so obvious what happened. “Moon did that to him, huh?”

He scoffs, waving your inquiry away. “Oh yeah, no doubt about it.” The mechanic claws his hand, then draws it up from his chest towards his face. “None of the other animatronics are going to lash out from the ceiling. The marks don’t start on Monty’s face, they end there.” He whistles lowly. “Moon’s a nasty piece of work too. Hope I’m never told I have to work on him.”

Your eye twitches. This rabid puppy isn’t about to have Moon’s name in his mouth like that. “I’ve met Moon. He’s not so bad. He can be funny sometimes.”

“Yeah, this is hilarious .” He jerks his thumb back at Monty before giving you a pitying look. “I know it’s cool to work for Fazbear’s, but this place will literally chew you up and spit you out. You don’t wanna being hanging around the animatronics if you don’t have to. Try to be careful.”

You give him the most disinterested grunt. “Yep, you too.” Before he can put words to the confusion that crosses his face, you turn on your heels and walk out, your items in hand and Gigo following behind. When you reach the top of the stairs, you hear quiet, electronic laughter from your companion, almost muffled in its tone. You look down at them, brow furrowed.

“What? What’s so funny?”

Gigo chances a look up at you, their laughter hiccuping when they do and eyes mischievous. The only time you’ve seen them like that is when they’ve gotten into something with Chip that they shouldn’t have. Before you can ask any further questions, they wheel off, beeping insistently at their fellows, a group of which immediately halt. The bots give you their attention momentarily, then begin to laugh themselves.

You just make a show of rolling your eyes and wander back towards the daycare. No sense in prodding them about what’s got them going when you don’t have a way to communicate.

As you head that way, at one point you think you hear Chip losing his mind in the ceiling cackling, but you don’t stop to check. Chip might work with you to tell you what’s happening, but if he’s up there, he’s not getting down. The rate at which he can travel through the vents is astonishing.

Walking back gives you time to think. For one, you put your items from maintenance in a spare supply closet. You’ll give that a shot another day when Sun’s running less of a risk of becoming an oven. It’ll most likely go over well, but just in case, you want to avoid adding any additional stress, even for just a moment.

For another, you don’t recognize Kevin. You were rather hoping you would. If he was from your part of town, he would’ve passed through Antonio’s shop at some point. You’d get a sense of deja vu looking at him, at the very least. But nothing. He’s a stranger to you, not to mention how he spoke about the plex. It’s cool to work at Fazbear’s. Just thinking about that phrase makes you want to throw up. If he’s not from the more affluent side of this area, he’s not from around here at all. Either way, it makes your life more difficult, since now you have to figure out how much he knows and how much he’s willing to believe. You’re also willing to bet money on the fact that his background makes him more annoying.

Regardless, you’re nearly back to the daycare now. The thought of curling back up with Sun for the afternoon immediately puts you at ease. Hell, you might just take a nap. Those cups of coffee from this morning are starting to wear off. You roll your shoulders, letting the last few minutes fall off you, and step back in, delighted to be back with someone so comfortable.

 ———————————————

Before you leave for the day, you make sure to tell all of the other animatronics that Kevin will most likely be here tomorrow too. Freddy accepts it readily enough, albeit unhappily, and promises to let the others know what’s happening. Sun, on the other hand, you have to calm down for the next half an hour after letting him know. He tries to pretend everything is fine, but he’s too stiff and too warm. Laying on top of him like a weighted blanket seems to help the best.

You wonder how Moon’s taking all this. You can’t imagine he’s doing well either, not when literally everyone else is having a hard time. Even if you have every reason to avoid him, staying away like this almost feels like… abandoning him. If you came in without causing a scene like last time, would he be more stable? He hasn’t attacked you every time, just… most. Two out of three. Maybe if you went for best out of five, it’d even out.

…

God, there really is something wrong with you.

In all honesty, though, you would offer to stay overnight as a way to help calm Sun if tomorrow wasn’t a business day for the daycare. You’re not psyched at the idea of not being able to shower after being at the plex, especially not after being anywhere near the maintenance room, which looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in months, if not longer. And while you brought your lunch, you’ll need to eat dinner and then again in the morning. Sun will fret if you don’t. So you don’t offer to stay. You head out right before lights out, promising to be back tomorrow morning. Sun lingers in the doorway when you go.

Once you’re home, have eaten, and showered, it strikes you that you could just, head back. You could just go back. You could sleep in the sensory tent again and be there all day tomorrow. It’d be two birds with one stone, too. You could check on Moon and provide support for Sun as soon as possible.

There’s just a slight issue in your plan in that the last time you showed up inside the daycare on a whim, you nearly got killed.

As you put together your lunch for tomorrow, you don’t particularly want to admit that part of the reason you’re raring to go back is that Kevin spoke poorly of Moon. That you’ve started to become just as protective of Moon as you are of Sun. The taste of bile settles into your mouth at the thought of leaving Moon alone when the mechanic might be anywhere close to the plex.

“If I have to buy more concealer because my ass got territorial, I’m gonna pitch a fit,” you mutter to your sandwich. “Like there’s no way he’s gonna be mad I’m showing up when I’m explicitly there to help, right?”

Your PB&J is conspicuously silent.

You stare at it for a moment longer before huffing and shoving it in with the rest of your lunch. You’ll go in. What’s the worst that can happen?

(The worst that can happen is that you die, or you’re hurt worse than last time, and Sun knows. That Sun is left with the reality that he couldn’t protect you like he wanted. You try not to let that sink in.)

Before leaving, you pack a bag with clothes for tomorrow, since you’re already in your pajamas, and bring a blanket. The daycare has plenty of blankets, yes, but none of them are yours. With any luck, having a comfort object like this will help with the anxiety that comes with walking back into a death trap. Every little bit counts.

One last glance over your apartment, boxes and all, and you’re out the door.

————

The lights are soundly off when you arrive back at the plex. It’s almost the middle of the night, so that’s to be expected, but it still puts your stomach in knots. Darkness spills into your car like a wave once you turn off your headlights. Only the places under the streetlamps retain islands of safety.

You know it will be just as dark inside the daycare.

With a sharp hiss, you grab your things, slam the car door, and head towards the entrance before you can back out. This is not smart. Harlow’s words about burying you ring inside your head. But making sure Moon’s okay precedes any worries for you. You do your best to convince yourself that this is your job, that you’re supposed to be doing this. That’s why you’re here.

It doesn’t land. You’re stubborn. You’re protective. You’ll put others before yourself without thinking.

And those qualities are sending you back to the place you were last severely hurt. What a surprise.

The doors open to an empty, still daycare. Somehow it’s darker than you remember. Light spills in for the first few feet, then nothing. If you weren’t familiar with the layout of the place, you’d be at a loss for what lies beyond. Moon’s nowhere to be seen or heard. That’s less comforting than you’d think.

Your heart pounds in your chest.

And you step inside again.

Night air dances over your skin, pushed forward by the doors closing behind you.

Then it is all very still.

You take a breath to brace yourself. You’re okay. It’s okay. Nothing bad is happening now. If something bad happens in the future, you can deal with it then, but for now, you are okay. It doesn’t quiet the screaming in your chest, but it does let you start to move your legs.

Far above, you catch wide, red eyes staring down at you in your periphery. Although you keep them in your vision, you don’t meet their gaze. You just keep pressing on to the tent. Getting things set up for tonight feels like a good start. Yep. A concrete, totally not arbitrary action that you’ve decided on because it’s important and not because it’ll give you a sense of control over the situation. Definitely incredibly important and needing your present attention.

As you crawl inside and begin setting things up to your liking, you hear the chime of Moon’s bells at the doorway. When you hazard a glance, you find him sitting there with the most confounded expression.

“What. Is this?” He makes an erratic gesture to all of you. You’re not sure if you should be offended or not, but with how your heart is in your throat, you’ll let it slide this time.

“Bedtime. It’s late, so I’m going to go to bed.” You smile in a way that you hope doesn’t look tense while deciding which plushies would be comfortable to sleep next to, which is another very important decision that requires your immediate attention.

Moon makes a strangled sound. “No. What are you wearing ?”

You bite your lip, stifling half a laugh. As stressful as this is, it’s too easy of a joke. “PJs. For bedtime. I’m gonna go to sleep so I thought PJs would be the best choice of clothing.”

Moon buries his face in his hands and groans while you sit atop your newly made nest, your blanket from home draped around your shoulders. It’s all bunched up around your neck, the weight of it a soothing security. In a way, it’s like hiding under the covers from monsters when you were little, except now the thing you’re afraid of is standing in front of you, and you exposed yourself to him in order to protect him. Wild. Also really stupid. Still you remain.

“What. Are you doing. Coming to sleep . In my daycare??” he hisses, hands clawed out in front of him.

“I mean, you are the one in charge of naptime, right? Seems like a pretty good place to sleep to me in that case. And I’ve slept here multiple times before. Had a nap with Sun this afternoon, actually. It was very nice. Very warm. If you want a turn, you can.” You hold open your blanket as an invitation for Moon to come snuggle with you. Regret hits you immediately as soon as you do it. You didn’t mean to say that. Being here has you on pins and needles, and you’re running your mouth somewhat. Again.

You think you can hear Moon bluescreen internally. “… Excuse me?”

Well now you’re committed to the bit, even if you don’t like the bit. At all. You wave the blanket up and down to further encourage him. The whole time, you’re screaming at yourself for the sheer magnitude of poor decisions you’ve been making tonight. “A turn. Y’know, taking turns? I’m about to go to sleep. Sun got to take a nap with me. Maybe you’d like to take a nap with me too. Fair’s fair. You don’t have to, but if you wanna, I won’t say no.”

Moon sits down crosslegged, still outside the tent. His mouth hangs open a bit as his eyes scan your face, looking for something, although you’re not sure what. Finally, he just scoffs at you. “You’re an idiot.”

You can’t help but chuckle. This is a little funny. Scary to the point where you’re losing feeling in your fingers, but also funny. “Sure, we can agree on that, but that’s not a yes or a no. My arm’s getting kinda tired, so if you could pick soon, that’d be good.”

“Maybe you should put your arm down then.” He rests his elbows on his knees and crosses his hands in front of his face, that wary look remaining, as if he can’t figure out if you’ll bite if he gets any closer.

… Huh. You tilt your head as you watch him. This can’t be the right interpretation, but it almost looks like he’s hiding from you. Like he has his arms and hands up to protect himself.

Holding the blanket like this is getting tiring, though. You wrap it back around yourself with a shrug. “If you figure it out, let me know. The offer still stands. I will ask that you wake me up if you decide you want to snuggle at three in the morning. I’ll startle if you just try to touch me otherwise, and I don’t want to hit you.”

“Mmh.” Moon leans forward and lowers his hands just enough so you can see his teeth bared. You pull your blanket a bit closer. “You haven’t answered my question, Troublemaker. What are you doing here?”

Despite the display, something in you settles at seeing him so frustrated about this. It’s normal. Having Moon be so irate about you showing up out of nowhere is rather expected by this point. He seems okay. And if he’s here, he’s not with Kevin. So long as Moon’s in sight, he’s okay. That’s what matters. Some of the tension that had been building since you parked your car leaves your shoulders. You yawn and lay down, curling yourself up into a cozy ball.

“I’m the caretaker. I’m caretaking.”

You might as well have told him you could fly. “Uh huh. Sure. Sun’s not here for you to caretake , Troublemaker. You’re several hours too early.”

“I know.”

The words linger in the air so heavily it feels like you could take them back from Moon, which isn’t something you want to do. His bad eye oscillates between flickering intensely and looking almost normal. “… You are not here to take care of me .”

You shrug. “What if I am?”

“You’re not . Stop trying to be funny, Troublemaker. I don’t like bad jokes. You don’t want to see me when I’m really upset.”

Another shrug, this time with less effort. You are actually tired from being up ridiculously early, doubly so now that the adrenaline has worn off. “’s not a joke. Everyone else was upset. I had to make sure you were okay.”

“No you didn’t. I know you didn’t have to. No one’s ever had to check up on me.” Moon creeps into the tent and looms over you, blocking out the meager light from the entrance. The shadows around you deepen with the red glow from his eyes. “You don’t want to lie to me. Trust me on that.”

This should scare you, what with his snarling and how menacing he’s trying to be. You know full well that he could kill you in multiple ways right now. Your brain gives you plenty of examples. But he doesn’t scare you in this instance. You’ve seen this display too many times now, of Moon trying to make himself scary in order to make you back down. There’s no need to go anywhere.

You calmly hold his gaze, eyes half lidded, as long as you can before yawning again. Honest to god you try to stifle it, but just keeping your eyes open is requiring all your energy. You pull the blankets up to your face, a reflex more than anything else. “Moon, ‘m tired. Can we talk about this some other time? I wanna sleep…”

The hard edges to his expression fall off when you mumble that, lost in a moment of shock. His black, cat-like pupils scan your face for anything out of place. When he continues doing so for longer than a few seconds, you shut your eyes and burrow yourself further into your blanket.

You hear Moon leave. He’s not even trying to be quiet. In your current state, though, it barely registers. Your eyes only open again, barely, when a gentle weight covers you. You see Moon take a few steps back. He refuses to look at you, having his head turned so his nightcap hides his face. He tries to make it look natural by angling himself towards the exit. It doesn’t work.

“You’ll catch a cold with only one blanket, Troublemaker.”

Ah, so that’s what that was. He brought you another blanket. You hum quietly to yourself, nearly asleep by this point. The extra blanket does make a difference. “Thank you. And Moon?”

He keeps himself turned away, although you can tell you have his full attention. “What.”

“Wake me up if anything goes wrong, okay?” You don’t wait for an answer before shutting your eyes again.

Sleep comes more easily than you’d expect. And unless he’s left silently again, Moon stays with you as you fade out.

——————————

“Sunshine? Hey, are you alright? It’s time to get up, Sunshine.”

Sun’s voice greets you the next morning. You rub at your face before turning to see him crouched in front of the tent, watching you anxiously. When you see him, your expression softens. What a fantastic start to your day.

“Heyyy. Good morning, Sunflower.”

“Good morning to you too! But what’re you doing here?”

You take your blanket, leaving behind the one Moon let you borrow last night, and make your way over to Sun. Once you cross the short distance, you climb up on top of him and nestle your face into his shoulder. You’re not quite awake yet, and waking up on Sun is the absolute best option. He wraps his arms around you immediately, although, if you’re not mistaken, he holds you a bit tighter than normal. You can’t say you mind.

“Wanted to check on Moon,” you mumble, drinking in Sun’s warmth. “Make sure he was doing okay.”

Sun stills. “You don’t have to do that, Sunshine! Moon’s just fine! You really don’t have to do that when Moon’s… not safe right now.”

“He’s okay. We got along okay last night, no issues. He did seem like he wasn't as worried as you, though. I guess it makes sense.” Kevin probably leaves far before Moon ever shows up. Why would Moon be worried about a mechanic who’s never around when he’s out? Knowing that wouldn’t have kept you from coming, however.

As you mull that over, Sun’s hand wanders over the back of your head, across your shoulders, and down your spine. He’s slow, methodical, passing over you with more purpose than he usually does. While you’re not one to turn down physical affection from Sun, this is different. You pull back enough to look at him in the face. His other arm holds fast around your waist, a stark contrast to how he normally moves with you when you adjust.

“Sunny? Is something wrong? You’re acting a little odd.”

He gives you a bright, award-winning smile. It’s exactly the type of expression you’d expect to see on Sun.

It doesn’t reach his eyes.

“No worries, Sunlight! I’m just glad you’re alright! But please remember what I said - no more sleepovers in the daycare! You could get really hurt! Let’s not do that again!” He stands before you can reply, taking you with him as he does. Sun does a spin with you in his arms before setting you back down again. He tousles your hair while you try to regain your bearings. “Now go ahead and go get ready for the day! No time to waste! We gotta get ready for the kiddos!”

Sun does an absurd amount of acrobatics in order to grab your bag for you. All of the movement has your head spinning. His twirling with you tow doesn’t help any. He has you moving towards the bathroom to go get dressed before you can even process that you’re on your feet.