Chapter Text
Moon sat straight up in their bed as soon as the lights flickered off, already ripping at the blankets with a hiss of "Don't you fucking dare shut down yet." As he stomps with purpose downstairs.
To his genuine surprise and partial relief, Sun's cooling fans remain on and blaring, in what Moon assumes is shame and a pang of longing to reassure the other hits him which he shoves down in favor of his anger.
He rips the door to the janitorial closet open and clicks the lock on the outside of the door before slamming it behind himself and slides their phone under the crack of the door, leaving them locked in the small closet, the smell of bleach and chemicals hangs heavy in the air from the new full bottles lining the shelves, and it takes Moon a moment to pluck the emergency flashlight tucked between the products out.
He takes a moment, thrumming his claws over the hard plastic of the high lumen light source as he considers what to say before landing, unceremoniously, on "Explain to me what the hell you were thinking, and I'll call someone over the security line to let us out ." And then presses the switch on the flashlight.
The small closet is flooded with light and Sun is sitting in the middle of it, mulling the question over in his mind before he decides to promptly ignore it, standing to shake and twist the knob of the door with growing quiet frustration, listening as Moon's fans flare in anger at his attempt at escape, and the eating biting burning feeling that he's horrible, that he's a horrible no good awful friend and he's hurting everyone, now including the only person that has ever been important to him, has him starting to whimper and gag around the bubbling tears in his eyes as he pulls in vein at the door handle, shakes it with aggression and desperation and growing hysterics until he's slamming his fists against the door, angry, enraged at the deep seated fear of punishment if he just breaks it down before the fear has him running cold, collapsing on the ground in a heap of oily black tears and shuddering staticky sobs that only dissipate once he reaches out a shaking hand and gingerly presses the little switch on the discarded flashlight.
Moon stares at his fingers, their fingers, still touched to the button of the light, still shaking, and Moon can't tell now whether it's residual movement from Sun's emotion frail frame shuddering or from his own icy emotional plunge as he considers the pure despair Sun seems to be in.
He takes the flashlight in his hand and sits back up, running his thumb along the cool plastic.
"Okay… Hey, y-you… You're okay. You're okay Sun. Firefly, it's okay for now, you're safe. We're safe…"
He's quiet, listening to Sun's blaring fans in the dark, waiting patiently for them to finally stutter to a quiet whirr in their body.
"I'm sorry for being… so aggressive at first. But we need to talk. You're upset, I know, and I know I don't need to tell you you're not the only one, but if you… If you talk with me, we can work out what to do. How to work things out. Can you do that for me, Bright Eyes?"
Moon takes a quiet moment again, not for himself but for Sun, a minute to process and steel himself, before he flicks the little button on the flashlight again.
Sun is quiet in the glow of the little high power light, still feeling broken in his non existent heart but calm. Grounded and soothed by the presence of his other, his Moon, still being careful and cool to horrible, wretched, worthless him.
He rubs his cheeks, smearing away the oil of his leaking eyes' lubricant lines away as he curls in on himself on the floor. "I… What do I do… What do I do Moon Flower?... I didn't… I don't know…"
He's quiet, staring into the bright light as he tries to think of what to say, fails, and decides to leave it to Moon. He shuts off the light.
Moon hums, reaching up to stroke his cheek, an attempt to comfort his other that leaves more streaked oil over his face and fingers. He takes a second to consider where to start before continuing to speak softly. "What happened that led you to being… being so angry? Little Daffodil, I've never seen you so… Don't take offense to this, but you were down right vicious with Monty… What was going through your head?..."
The light flicks and Sun is sitting there again, thinking on the question and how to word an explanation of his preconceptions and mistakes. How easy, it would be, if he could just project his thoughts in all of their mess to Moon like they used to, confident their other would be able to understand.
A quiet imitation of a shuddering sigh leaves Sun as he sits up, squeezing his knees to his chest. "The stories. I didn't… Everyone. The kids, the staff, they talked about Monty like he was…" An ashamed and embarrassed blush lights up the spirals of his cheeks and causes another prickling of oil droplets to pool in the corners of his eyes. "I thought, because of everything we've heard about him, that he was just… rude. Rude, and arrogant, and got away with murder. I didn't… I thought rules didn't apply to him, that he never got the same… punishment or treatment like we did, I thought… I thought he thought he was better than us. I was jealous and angry and I… I didn't stop to think past that. And then when I met him, it felt like all of that anger was justified… He was loud and ignorant to my discomfort and with everything else I thought it was because he… just didn't care to notice. That he didn't care about anyone but himself. I built my view of him around my own discomfort and anger and I didn't realize I was wrong until… You know…"
The light is turned off again and Moon sits in the dark, sad understanding pooling in his chest. He'd felt it too. The jealousy and anger, he'd felt it so many times in the agony of his servos being shocked, in those split seconds of rage and pain where he'd wondered whether the glamrocks were fried from the inside out if they so much as snapped at the wrong security officer or handler, why he and Sun were shut inside and never allowed to leave without being in security mode, he wondered why they'd been subject to so much abuse when the other animatronics weren't.
But Moon, Moon felt less and thought more. He'd been angry and jealous until he thought, and thought, and thought, and came to the conclusion that he had no reason to be angry at the glamrocks. Even in the event they weren't being hit and shocked and yelled at like they were, that wasn't a bad thing. It wasn't their fault if they weren't being hurt, it shouldn't be held against them. And that was *if* they weren't being hurt, because Moon had thought about that too, and believed there was every possibility, dealing with the same staff and company, that they were dealing with the same things if not something similar.
But Sun felt more and thought less. Well that wasn't fair, he didn't think less he just… thought too much about how he felt and not enough outside of that. Sun, his poor Firefly, just got caught up in his emotions. But that didn't mean he should be acquitted of all mistake.
He sighs and twines his fingers together. "You need to apologize, you know that right?" He's quiet, aware of the fact that Sun can't answer until he turns the light back on, but he's not quite ready to let Sun argue against his offered solution yet.
"You want to lock yourself in the daycare. I know that's what you're considering, you want to stay here because you think if you never leave you'll never hurt Monty or Hippo or anyone's feelings again and you won't even have to apologize, you think it'll be like it's always been, but Daffodil we have never been happy with things how they've always been. This is a hiccup. A nasty hiccup, one of the ones that makes a kiddo spit bile and choke on their snack for a moment, but it's still just a hiccup. You need to apologize to Monty and Hippo, we cannot stay in how things have always been, we need to move forward Firefly."
He's quiet, letting Sun process for a moment before flicking the light on.
Sun feels woozy and he's not sure if it's the whiplash of the constant switching back and forth or the aching realization that Moon is right and he can't be miserable forever just because he doesn't want to be miserable right now. That he can't leave Monty and Hippo miserable just so he doesn't have to make his misery worse. He can fix this. He can fix this.
He stands, weary and nervous, and steps up to the door, wrapping his arms around himself and giving his shoulders a squeeze, an appreciative simile of a hug to his closest friend.
"Thank you, Jumping Spider I… I'm ready."
He lets out a careful sigh to calm his nerves.
"Call Hippo first."