Chapter Text
*Two nights ago. Approximately 4 am - After Sun’s assessment.*
“Hey Moondrop!” Cindy called out, hoping that the patrolling animatronic swinging above her might spare her a minute and come down to talk. “Moondrop!!”
After Sun’s somewhat-successful assessment, Jaime had (unfortunately) informed her that Moon needed to be assessed directly as well, which put Cindy in a tight spot.
Which she wouldn’t still be in, if he just listened to her!
She only had two patrols to work with, and half of this one was already over.
Cindy sighed. Then tapped her foot. Then looked back up at the infuriatingly oblivious animatronic. There had to be a way to get his attention. Something he couldn’t ignore. Something…
The map bot zoomed past Cindy, paying her no mind. Its wheels ran over a discarded plastic cup, and one of the maps in his little compartment shifted.
Cindy watched the Map Bot as he ran over more garbage. Some maps fell off. Then she looked back up at the Daycare Attendant, cogs in her mind spinning. A horrible idea formed in her mind.
‘It could work,’ she reasoned.
*Present time *
“Hey Moondrop,” Cindy greeted and Moon dropped his arms, choosing to cross them instead.
Moon glared at the animatronic.
She smiled, confused. “…What?”
“Security access level?” Moon asked curtly.
“Security level 7,” Cindy answered automatically. “Wait, why do you need to know that?” she asked.
“Checking,” Moon said. He was surely not ‘just checking’.
“…Sure. Let’s go with that”
Moon remained silent for a moment. “…Do you have access to security cameras?”
Cindy playfully covered her mouth in shock. "Me? Access to cameras? Surely you're kidding; we both know I couldn't possibly!"
Moon death glared her.
Cindy groaned. “No, I do not have access to cameras. Take a joke once in a while, will ya?”
“Excuse you. I’m hilarious,” Moon replied in a deadpan voice.
“Hah, okay. Let’s go with that.” Cindy ushered the small DJ Music Man bot away. “What brings you by in this corner of the Pizzaplex, anyway?”
“None of your business.”
“So that whole thing was supposed to be a failed revenge attempt for the Map Bot incident, or just a failed prank?"
Moon stiffened.
“We agreed to never speak of it again. Or do you want me to send the bot to attack you instead?”
Cindy shuddered. “Nope! No, thank you!”
Moon’s expression shifted into something dangerous and amused. “Oh? Did I finally find something to scare you?”
“I’ll admit I’m scared of the Map Bot only when you do too.”
“Hm. Never.”
“Ditto.”
A STAFF bot scurried by them, hitting a column, readjusting and then rolling away. Cindy stifled a laugh.
“Why do you want to know anyway?” Moon asked.
“Know what?”
“Why I’m here. You asked.”
“Ah,” Cindy said, fixing her dress. “Curiosity, obviously. If this is not revenge, or a prank, maybe it's a secret third thing that I'm supposed to figure out." She smiled innocently.
Moon turned his head away. “…Revenge.”
"Understood. Well, how about I let you scare me next time? Maybe get some Wet Floor Bots to block me somewhere?"
Moon turned back to face her, smiled dangerously. "Now why are you giving me ideas? Do you think I wouldn't do them because of behavior rules?"
Cindy's mischievous grin mirrored his own. "You? Breaking rules? My, my, that's some breaking news right there. Are you available for an interview?" she asked and straightened up, pretending to write in a tiny notepad. "How long have you been in disorganized rule-breaking crime? How would your counterpart react to your actions? Is there anything you'd like to say to the press?"
A small beep echoed in Moon's mind. 5 minutes left.
"The press," he began, flicking Cindy's forehead, "is dumb. And far more of a rule-breaker than I could possibly be. How are you not in time-out jail?"
Cindy laughed. The animatronic leaned in towards Moon, cupping her mouth and whispering "It's because I keep escaping!" like it's a silly secret.
Moon snorted. She was worse than a child. "Ah, I get it now! They just haven't build a jail cell with small enough gaps. You're so tiny, why, it explains everything. The cell bars are towers compared to you, and the gaps in between valleys large enough for your rule-breaking self to build a city."
The animatronic gaped at him, annoyance finally making it's way on her features. Moon was delighted that it was finally difficult to determine whether or not it was genuine.
"I am not that small!" she cried, stomping her foot. “I’m 5’5’’!”
Moon leaned down mockingly, a hand cupped around his head area where his ears would be if he had them. "My apologies, could you repeat that? I'm afraid I only heard the squeak of a subatomic being."
"Ugh!" Cindy groaned, clearly exasperated. "Like you're one to talk, you giant. I'm surprised you don't have constant joint maintenance with how much you have to move just to reach a toy on a shelf below your eye level."
Moon's eyes fixed on Cindy's. He stared, trying to intimidate her. She stood her ground. The Wet Floor Bot squeaked as it tried to escape the threatening aura around the two. A lightbulb flickered.
Moon left without a word.
It wasn't until the next day that he realized he never even brought up the damned plushie.
“I’m telling you, Jaime, management could care less about my Comfort Center! There were nails. On the floor. This is a place meant for the elderly if no one else, and you’re expecting them to just step around them like- like- like-”
Jaime pushed Cindy down on the chair, tilting her head to the side and adjusting one of her settings. “Calm yourself, Cindy. Freaking out about it will do you no good.”
The animatronic snapped her head back into position as soon as Jaime’s fingers were a safe distance away.
“Wouldn’t you get mad?” the animatronic asked, furious.
“Yes. But you don’t win against management by getting mad. That’s how I get fired and you get put into storage.”
“What am I supposed to do then? They’re not going to help!” Cindy cried, getting back on her feet.
“You get smart, missy. You outsmart them.”
The next time Moon had the 'pleasure' to meet the comfort animatronic, he caught her stealing. Or, more appropriately put, he caught her 'relocating faulty yet usable merchandise'. That's what she claimed anyway.
He got an alert in his systems about something moving through the F2 underground tunnels. No humans had any business being in the underground tunnels that night, and no animatronics would ever use them. Mostly because they were only used for transporting gift shop supplies.
So, obviously, the drawn conclusion was that an intruder was using them. Partly, Moon was right.
He crawled on the ceiling of the hallway, aided by his wire and sticking to the shadows, stalking his prey.
Moon had a confusion-caused short-circuit when he saw Cindy. Carrying not one but two boxes filled to the brim with clothing and plushies of all things, she struggled to keep them upright while pushing a third box, that was half her height, mind you, forward using her legs.
As soon as he laid eyes on her, she too turned towards him. She sighed in relief.
"Oh, Moon, hi. Could you maybe lend me a hand here? I'm kind of...out of hands," she said in a confusing mixture of confidence and awkwardness.
"What," Moon said, dropping from the ceiling, "in the world do you think you're doing?"
"Well, I saw my Comfort Center yesterday but it's so bare and bland that it honestly looks like a prison, so I asked Jaime for things that might liven up the place and he asked the higher-ups but they don't want to invest in this because they don't know how much they can profit off of it yet-"
Was her voice box broken? Moon could honestly compare her words-per-minute with Sun's and at this point and she might be able to win. Barely, but she could.
The daycare attendant could only imagine the indignation that his counterpart would display if he ever shared this thought with him. Moon snorted at the thought.
"- and they never even use the faulty merch, they just throw it away- Are you seriously laughing at me?" Cindy asked, and Moon's attention was brought back to the situation at hand.
"..."
The animatronic groaned in annoyance at his silence.
"Can't believe I asked for your help. If you're going to be a jerk about it, then leave me be. I'll handle this," she said, then visibly faltered as she eyed the box on the ground. "Somehow... "
Moon rolled his eyes. It would be so easy to leave.
It would be even easier to pretend they never even spoke.
He dared to look at the animatronic. Biggest mistake he did that night. She looked so pathetic, towered by the boxes she was carrying. Like a weak little disgruntled kitten.
Moon should leave. He was way past offering people his help, just to be used and discarded like a broken metal toy.
"Where were you even going with all of these?" he asks, and he cursed himself. He should leave. Like now. Before he does something embarrassing like helping her out.
"Just downstairs in Parts and Service. Why?"
She wasn't even halfway out of the Atrium.
"Pathetic," Moon blurted out. Though it seems that only he noticed his slip of tongue. Cindy on the other hand…
"Oh wow. Thanks for the compliment. I feel so encouraged," Cindy said in a dead-pan tone. She rolled her eyes too, for emphasis.
Moon took two steps forward and easily maneuvered the box off the floor in order to hold it under an arm. He started walking towards Parts and Service, pointedly not looking back at the other animatronic.
"Not. One. WORD," he warned. "Or I'll dump this down the staircase well."
For the first time in her short life, Cindy respected the rule.
“Well? What do you think?” Cindy asked.
“Oh, I don’t know, why don’t you take my blindfold off first, and then ask?” Jaime responded, smiling.
Cindy had finished her arrangements for her Comfort Center just in time for opening day. More like 3 hours ahead. Thankfully Jaime had picked up a night shift, or she would have woken him up at 2 am to show him her finished Comfort Center.
The animatronic removed the blindfold, and stayed near the entrance, bouncing in excitement.
What was once an area filled with party rooms and storage space had been transformed into a two-floor attraction. The entrance was about as cozy as one could get, with soft couches and bean bags and the wall separating the Comfort Center from the rest of the Daycare made of clear glass and decorated with dark green curtains. Next to the security desk was a pyramid of plushies, all fixed up by Cindy herself, ready to find new families. With soft carpet covering the floor of the entrance, and tiles for every booth, the top floor looked straight out of a 50’s diner, with cozy couches and tall chairs galore.
On the floor below, next to the Daycare and the Lucky Stars merch shop was the true Comfort Center. One half, filled with small booths, each one hooked up to the Fazbear Premium Ordering System and within Cindy’s hearing range at all times, were perfect for the guests who just needed a moment to gather themselves. And perhaps a light snack and a soft drink. The other half, however, was a large area made for noise, with stim toys and small instruments and tactile aids for those who needed them. Cindy knew there were some for whom silence harmed rather than helped, and she designed the area specifically for them, taking care to soundproof it as to not bother the others.
Jaime had known her plans, of course. He helped make them work. Seeing it all however…
“Well?” Cindy asked, nervous.
Jaime turned to his animatronic, his clever creation, and smiled.
“I think with your current setup... you’re gonna put the Daycare out of business, Cindy-boo.”