Work Text:
The hanging lights start to brighten as a new day commences. A poor substitute for real sunlight, but the residents of Safe Haven made do with what little they had.
Poppy found herself in her tent, laying on the mattress and staring at the ceiling, like she’d been doing for hours now. Hand playing idly with her red curly locks. The constant worry gnawing at her chest had rendered her unable to sleep well for the past couple of days.
Worry that the plan would fail. That each second they spent in this place instead of continuing the Prototype was allowed to scheme and plot. Or that, somehow, he was already aware of it and all her efforts to defeat him were futile.
That he would come and steal her in the night and put her back in that case…
A full-body shiver runs through her. No. She would never go back. Not with him.
It didn’t help that Ollie kept reminding her in their calls that he could not guarantee their safety against him if they did not keep up with the plan.
She’d been so sure that you were the right fit for it, she was certain of it. An angel come from the surface to cleanse all the evil in this place. You had cruised through the factory virtually unscathed, evading or destroying the toys and even the Bigger Bodies that got in your way, always eager and willing to follow your lead, no questions asked.
But she had noticed a shift in your demeanor ever since arriving at Safe Haven. What she had intended as a simple pit stop to regroup and organize before heading out again had become a prolonged stay, and she knew you were to blame. You had somehow bonded with the residents of the shelter and for some reason you had begun acting as if you were another member of the community. You had forgotten your reason for being here, your true purpose.
And Doey, she sighed as she put a hand to her forehead, had only contributed to keeping up this charade. What purpose would it serve to play house with you when they had their greatest enemy right at their doorstep? When their future was sealed either way? What was the point?
She had to take a deep breath to still her racing thoughts, focusing on the here and now.
The two of you had grown really close, anyone with eyes on their head would be able to see that. It was unusual to see either of you roaming around the area without the other. It seemed like both of you had been working together to manage Safe Haven, taking care of the toys and playing with them. They had warmed up to your presence so quickly too, treating you now with the same enthusiasm and affection as they would treat Doey himself.
But more than that, you had changed, too. The way you conducted yourself with the others, how eager you were to engage with everyone. And the way you smiled when talking with Doey or while you were with the toys. It was the first time Poppy had seen you genuinely smile from the moment she had met you.
Doey also appeared to be in a way better mood than usual while having you around. She knew from experience that sometimes he put on a front for the sake of the children of Safe Haven, but these past few days he had not found it necessary to feign enthusiasm or joy. It reminded her a bit of the past, when the two of them were at the helm, building a shelter for the toys that had been shunned by the Prototype and his followers. Back when everyone was filled with hope for what the future would bring…
She banishes the thought from her head. Now it was not the time to daydream about better times. It was the moment to act, why couldn’t anyone see but her? The clock was ticking and the Prototype grew stronger by the minute.
She had tried to tell you, she really had. But every time she approached you, always accompanied by Doey (because of course you were), the doughman sent her a withering glare that stopped her dead in her tracks. A look that said you have caused them enough harm already. Not that you ever noticed, being so engaged in whatever mundane task that surely was more important than saving the orphans trapped in the lower levels.
Doey and her were at odds with each other, she knew that well. But seeing him be so protective of a human, and a former employee of Playtime at that, was unprecedented. He usually reserved his more defensive side for the toys of Safe Haven, but it looked like it came naturally to him with you. The dynamics of this place grew weirder and weirder the more she thought about them.
Rubbing her eyes, the porcelain doll resigned herself to another restless night and got up from the mattress, the ever-present cloud of anxiety that followed her winding up for another stressful day.
However, the last thing Poppy expected when exiting her tent was to find you, arms crossed and a serious expression in your face, standing right in front of her.
“Poppy, we need to talk.”
The generator room looked stark as always, being the only place where the small toys were not allowed to enter. Unlike the rest of Safe Haven, there were no vibrant colors, no drawings or stickers decorating it. The space was dedicated entirely to the machine that fed energy to the whole shelter. The heart of Safe Haven.
You stood in the room with Poppy and the Bigger Bodies. You, resting with your back against the wall, deep in thought. Doey in one corner of the room, looking uneasy. Poppy on the other, nervous as always, with her perennial companion Kissy Missy at her side. It had not escaped the doll’s attention that you had placed yourself considerably closer to Doey than to them.
A tense atmosphere reigned over the room. The only sound that could be heard was the soft electrical hum of the generator as it worked to provide energy. You all knew what you were here for, but nobody wanted to draw first blood in what you knew was going to be a troublesome discussion.
A few more minutes of silence and Poppy could not take it anymore. She lets out a frustrated huff, drawing all eyes to her, and speaks.
“So, have you at last come to your senses, then?” She asks you. “Finally grown tired of playing pretend with the toys?”
What was that supposed to mean? Doey emits a disbelieving scoff at her words, while you try to muster up a response.
“Poppy, we had to sort some matters out before going for the-”
“Some matters? Please, tell me. What were those things you had to do that were more important than defeating the Prototype?” She says, glowering.
You were about to answer when Doey decides to intervene. “Healing up, for one. You wanted to rush to the Prototype right after their fight with the Doctor? Absolutely reckless.” He gives her the look again, that accusing stare. But this time, the doll refuses to be intimidated by it.
She takes a step forward. “Oh, please. I saw them personally when they returned, without a single scratch on them.” A derisive tone in her voice. “You think I would ever let them get injured when they’ve got such an important role to play?”
The doughman reels back in shock at her words. “What?” He then straightens up, body shifting and growing larger, sharp red fangs sprouting from his mouth. “Your insane demands brought them to the brink of-!”
“Enough.” You put your hand on his arm, and he turns his head towards you, his furious look instantly vanishing. Kissy mimics your action on her side of the room, a yellow mitten resting over Poppy’s shoulder, lightly squeezing to get her attention. “Both of you, calm down.”
The doll steps back, eyes closed, and takes a few deep breaths; Kissy’s hand not leaving her body. “Okay.” She breathes out. “Okay, I’m sorry. You’re right that you needed to rest after the Doctor.” Then she looks at you, determined. “But that doesn’t mean we’ve got all the time in the world. While we bicker, the Prototype is only growing stronger. His shock from the Doctor’s death has probably worn off already and he must be plotting something to stop us.” She pleads. “Every second we waste, our window of opportunity diminishes. Ollie thinks the same.”
Again with Ollie. She practically lives glued to that toy phone, talking with him every day. No wonder she’s become so paranoid. “It’s in the Prototype’s best interest that we confront him wholly unprepared.” You cross your arms, frowning. “And it seems to me that both you and Ollie want us to do exactly that.”
“That is not true!” She retorts, shaking her head. “We do have a plan. A solid plan, one that the Prototype will not see coming.” She clasps her hands together. “We plant the explosives on the foundation, we reroute the red gas, and once the orphans are rescued and safe on the outside, boom!” She extends her arms, mimicking an explosion. “Let’s see that bastard shrug off the entire weight of the factory from his shoulders.” She nods with confidence, acting like it was the best and obvious course of action.
Ah, yes. Poppy’s plan. You hear Doey let out a long, tired sigh. You feel like doing that as well. Instead, you close your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose, frustration building up inside you.
Where to begin with it? At best, it was reckless. At worst, utterly deranged. Not to mention how she conveniently left out the part where the entirety of Safe Haven would have to go down with the factory once the bombs go off. The doughman starts voicing his well-practiced speech again, his appeal for the doll to see reason, but you tune it out.
At first you agreed to go with Poppy because she seemed to be the only one who knew what was going on in this place. In a factory that somehow harbored living toys inside that were hell-bent on killing you and devouring your entrails, the porcelain doll that appeared remotely sane was your best bet for surviving this whole ordeal.
When you began piecing together the events that led to this disaster through various VHS tapes and documents you found in the rubble, you told yourself that it was a necessary evil. That these mindless monsters that had once been innocent victims were trying to kill you. Your resolve wavered, but survival instinct prevailed above all else.
However, once you were introduced to Safe Haven you couldn’t deny the obvious any longer. These toys were people. Breathing, thinking people. Those who had managed to retain their sanity, their humanity, were just trying to survive in a place where they had the odds stacked against them. To live the life that had been ripped away from them by Playtime.
And the way they treated you. Wary, at first, which in your mind completely warranted. Being not only a human but a former Playtime employee as well did you no favors. But once you proved yourself trustworthy, and with Doey vouching for you, they jumped at the opportunity to have a new playmate and a new friend in their group. It warmed your heart to see them light up with joy when they saw you. It made this place feel like home.
As for Doey… if Safe Haven was a sanctuary found amongst the inhospitable layers of the factory, he was the radiant sun that bathed it in light and warmth. You were in awe of his selflessness. How he dedicated himself in body and soul to his family, always with a smile on his face. He had saved so many toys from certain death and given them a place to live and thrive. And he had also saved you, in more ways than one.
You hear the discussion between Poppy and Doey slow down and eventually grind to a halt, a tense silence falling once again in the room. Another stalemate, neither of them willing to budge from their position. You shake your head, disapprovingly. This circus has gone on for long enough.
If you were to be Poppy’s Angel, she better come up with a better plan for you to follow.
You step forward, catching everyone’s attention. “I agree with Doey.” You declare, watching from the corner of your eye how the doll’s expression crumbles. Turning your head towards her you reaffirm your position. “I will not let the toys of Safe Haven be sacrificed for the sake of your plan.” You steel your gaze. “They are under my care now.” You are surprised to hear such determined words coming from your mouth. It seems Doey’s protective side had rubbed off on you.
You hear a small gasp coming from behind, but you pay it no mind. Your entire focus was on Poppy, who looked as though you had told her the world was going to end tomorrow. Eyes wide, legs trembling, she stammers a frantic reply.
“W-what? You can’t be serious, right? You’re the only one that can do this! We can’t face the Prototype without your help!” She voices desperately.
“It’s okay, Poppy.” You try to de-escalate. “We will come up with a new plan. One we can all agree on.” Your words do nothing to calm her down.
“There is no new plan! This is what you were meant to do! If you throw this opportunity away, it will all have been for nothing!” Something irks you about the way Poppy speaks about you, like you were just a means to an end.
She starts pacing around the room, rambling. “I can’t believe it, after getting so far, so close to beating the Prototype now you decide to grow a conscience?” Your irritation mounts up as she continues her tirade. Is this how Ollie saw you, too? Just what was going on between the two?
“Coming to this place has been a mistake.” She mutters. “Too many distractions. It has taken your mind off of the true objective. You've forgotten the role you have to play in this factory.” That’s it. Your patience has reached its limit.
“Stop talking about me like that!” You erupt. “You treat me like I’m just a tool to be used for your purposes and then thrown away. I’m a person! I am capable of making my own decisions!” You step forward and bring your face closer to hers, trying to drive your point home. “And I’ve decided that these toys deserve to live.” You scowl at her. “If you don’t like how I turned out, maybe you should find yourself another puppet to carry out your whims.”
She stares at you, an unreadable expression on her face. Then, she shrinks, head bowing and face downcast. “Why are you doing this?” She whispers. “Why do you care so much about them?”
You have to remind yourself that you’re not arguing with an adult. Poppy was also a child when she was turned into a doll. A very overbearing doll. Taking a moment to cool down a bit, you answer her question.
“From the moment I stepped into Safe Haven, I have received nothing but patience, support and kindness. It has been the only place where I didn’t need to look over my shoulder every minute to see if I’m being stalked by something, where I’ve been allowed to heal.” You shake your head, disbelieving. “To rest. I think I’ve had more hours of sleep in a single night here than every other day in the factory combined.”
You continue on. “If you had asked me if I was on board with the plan before, I wouldn’t have hesitated to say ‘yes’. Back when I thought everyone had gone mad with hunger. But here? This is a safe place, Poppy. A community. One with many struggles, yes. But that doesn’t mean it’s right to discard them.”
Your lips curl up into a small smile. “The kids... they fill this place with life. They laugh and they dream, despite the circumstances. They’ve treated me like I’m one of their own for a while now. I owe it to them to protect them from harm to the best of my abilities.” With every word your determination grows. This is the right thing to do.
“And Doey? I wouldn’t be standing here if it weren’t for him.” You point to yourself. “He has been with me every step of the way, from the moment we crossed paths.” You stare off into the distance, a fond look in your eyes. “He’s the most selfless person I’ve met, you know? Not in this factory. Ever. Even if I wanted to, I don’t have the right to take his family from him.” Speech finished, you wait for the doll’s response.
After a short silence, she answers.
“We are just monsters…” She murmurs, barely loud enough for you to hear.
“You’re not monsters, Poppy.” You attempt to put a hand on her shoulder. "Not to me."
In an instant, her demeanor changes dramatically, as if you had struck a nerve. She swipes your hand off and roars. "Maybe not to you, but to the rest of the world we are!" She points a finger at you, accusingly. "Abominations. Experiments gone wrong. Left in this place to rot and starve. It would be better for all if we were buried with the wreckage of the factory.” She says bitterly.
"You know that is not true." You reply, trying to be understanding. But her callous words aimed at your friends were starting to get under your skin.
She shakes her head. “After all they’ve suffered it would be a mercy-"
Something snaps inside you.
"Mercy!?" You cut her off, furious. "You call it mercy!? To kill off the toys because it's easier than taking responsibility for them? To sweep them under the rug for daring to exist? Just because they've been dealt a bad hand in life, they don't deserve to have a chance at living it?" You clench your hands into fists, nails digging into your palms, overwhelmed with emotion.
"You go on and on about the children trapped underneath the factory. Well, guess what, Poppy? These toys are children too! They are good and they are kind, even after all they've been through!" You have to gulp to avoid choking up. "And I am not-" You accentuate your words with your hand. "-giving up on them." A defiant gaze sent her way.
The doll, undaunted, continues speaking.
“What's your plan, then? Taking them to the surface?” As you begin to move your head to nod, she throws her hands up in the air. “Of course! What a great idea! Expose them to the outside world so they can get spirited away to another lab to be poked and prodded and experimented on!” She glares at you. “As much as you would like to act like a savior, they have no place up there!”
You rebel against that fact, your vow still holding strong. You refuse to condemn them to a life in darkness.
“If they have no place, I will make one for them!” You are practically shouting now. “Even if I have to take every single one of them under my wing!”
As the last words ring throughout the room, their last echoes dissipating, a deathly quiet falls. Breathing hard, heart beating like a running train, a drop of sweat rolls down your forehead and falls to the ground. This discussion is over. You are done.
Slowly, you kneel down in front of Poppy, the doll frozen still just like her inanimate counterpart. You put your face right in front of hers, eyes aglow. A fierce storm raging inside you, contained only by the finality of your next words.
“Your plan is off the table.” You draw the sentence out, voice cold as ice. “That is final.” You dare her to try and challenge your decision again, but it seems she has reached her limit as well.
Looking like she’s about to explode, hands into fists, Poppy storms out of the generator room, the doors opening automatically with a soft whir to let her through.
As they close again you release the breath you’d been holding this entire time, chest deflating like a balloon. “Guess we didn’t work it out after all.” You say, trying to lighten the mood. Standing up, you dust off your pants, bow your head to Kissy in apology for raising your voice and turn towards Doey. “We’ll have to come up with something our-”
As soon as your eyes fall on him, you pause. The doughman is looking at you, both his hands covering his mouth and eyes wide open, wet with unshed tears. You immediately rush to him, your feet moving of their own accord before you even command them to.
“Doey, are you okay? Please, talk to me.” You are standing right in front of him in an instant. Mind scrambling to find an explanation to his behavior. Did you do something wrong? Was he hurt by something you said?
Suddenly and without warning your vision goes dark as you are surrounded by half a ton of living clay. You find yourself in a familiar, welcoming space, enveloped by his arms and pressed against his body in a strong embrace. His shape, having already memorized the contour of your body, shifting inwards to accommodate you with ease. Feeling his chest move as he sniffles, you return the hug, content to lay here and let him take all the time he needs.
Minutes later, he takes a deep breath and finally speaks.
“To think that you hold us in such high regard… thank you, thank you!” He squeezes the air out of your lungs as he tightens the embrace, lifting you from the ground and spinning around. As he puts you back down, he loosens his grip, allowing you to look at him. A radiant smile and eyes full of gratitude stare back at you. “For standing up for us. You have no idea how much this means to me.” He utters, overwhelmed with happiness.
You can’t help smiling back, touched by his words. “Doey, this is the least I could do.” You rest your hand on his arm. “After all you’ve done for me, how could I go forward with Poppy’s plan? You guys are-” You hesitate, looking away timidly for a split second. Then, gathering up your courage, you inhale and meet his gaze once more. “You’re my family… right?”
It’s the first time you’ve outright said it. In your eyes, a question. An inkling of doubt. And a great, profound yearning.
Doey had seen these eyes before. In Safe Haven. In the toys he had rescued after the Hour of Joy. In the orphanage. He had sworn back then to be the strong foundation that would support all of them in their hour of need. So that he would never have to see that forlorn gaze again.
A tender expression on his face, he gently pulls you towards him again, your body offering no resistance. You let yourself melt into his all-encompassing embrace once more. “Yes.” He answers, brimming with emotion. His arms squeeze you, reassuring. “Yes, we are.” Then, gently, he kisses the top of your head. “You will always be part of our family.”
The last lingering fears in your mind banished, you bask in the affirmation. This is right where you’re supposed to be, a place where you are cherished and appreciated.
Home.
The moment of respite is cut short as you remember what Poppy said before, a new worry making itself known. She was not wrong when she said the outside world would not accept them. But the promises you made in the heat of the moment weigh heavily on your mind. Promises you may not be able to keep.
“Doey.” You whisper from within his grasp. You feel his great head moving closer, ready to listen to what you have to say. “While Poppy and I were arguing, I said some things about the surface… things that, as much as I would love to, I don’t know if I’ll be able to do.” You sigh, defeated. “I’m sorry.”
You brace yourself for the disappointment, for the anger at having misled him. For giving him false hope. However, only silence meets your ears. Oh god, you must have broken his heart for him to be still this long. You really screwed up this time.
You feel his body start twitching, a low guttural sound coming from his chest. Great, you made him cry. You will never forgive yourself for this.
The sound continues increasing in volume. Wait. Those are not sobs. Those are…
He lets out a jolly, loud belly laugh, his whole body shaking with mirth. You take a step back, flabbergasted. He tries to explain himself, but his infectious bouts of giggles make it hard for him to speak.
“Oh, pal.” He eventually manages to say between lungfuls of air. “You had me worried for a second, there.” His laughter finally fizzles out as he wipes a tear off his eye. Then, he beams at you. “I knew that already, silly.”
“What do you mean?” You say, bewildered. “I promised so many things-”
“I know not to take the words said in a heated argument at face value.” He responds. “You are extraordinarily capable, but not even you can see the future.” He puts a hand on your shoulder. “It’s the thought behind the words that counts. And believe me, that,” He presses his other hand over his heart. “I got loud and clear.”
You press on, not entirely convinced. “What if Poppy’s right? How will we hide you from the eyes of the people up there?” Images of your friends being taken forcibly from you by suited agents come unbidden to your head.
Doey, unfazed, soothes your anxious mind. “When the moment comes, we will figure something out.” His smile widens. “Together. Okay?”
You just can’t say no to that face. You nod and he proceeds to lift his hand and ruffle your hair affectionately. “That’s my buddy.” He states with pride. With that taken care of, there’s only one more thing for you to do.
“I’ll go find Poppy. I may have been too harsh on her.” As you move to leave the generator room Doey blocks your way with his yellow hand.
“Leave her. She’s probably sulking right now. You’re not going to get a single word through to her until she’s calmed down.” Doubtful, you look at Kissy for confirmation, and she slowly nods her head in resignation.
“She’ll come back. She needs us more than we need her.” He reassures you, the tiniest hint of smugness in his tone.
“You know Poppy is not the bad guy here, Doey.” You chide him. “She’s as much a victim of Playtime as the rest of you.” The doughman hums.
“I know. But she needs to learn that not everything can go her way all the time.” You have to give him that. It does little to ease your guilt, but you decide to let the matter go.
"Alright. Seeing as we're all a bit on edge after this disastrous meeting, I propose we lay out all the information we have about the Prototype, and we'll come up with something tomorrow. Hopefully with Poppy on board." Both Kissy and Doey nod in agreement, so you proceed.
"What do we know about the Prototype?"
Turns out you didn’t know much about him at all. Also called Experiment 1006, he had been the orchestrator of the Hour of Joy. After the massacre was over, in an unexpected heel turn, he had ordered his followers to bar the exit, preventing anyone from leaving, his motives still shrouded in mystery to this day. He allegedly has the remainder of the human orphans under his control, sleeping in the lowest levels of the factory. How they managed to survive for this long in such conditions none of you know.
“He is incredibly cunning.” Doey states. “He even strung Sawyer along for his plans.” A sigh of frustration escapes your mouth.
“Plans that are completely unknown to us. How can we get the upper hand on him when we don’t even know what it is that he wants?” You wrack your brain, trying to get something, anything that could be of use to you. You wish Poppy were here just to ask her what she knows.
Wait. Poppy…
You get pulled inside a crevice in the wall by a pink arm, finding Poppy and Kissy huddled together, dead silent. The doll puts a finger to her mouth, eyes wide with urgency.
A grating, metallic screech reaches your ears, coming from the hallway you were traversing just a few seconds ago. On the wall, a shadow of something that is neither human or toy, mechanical and stiff.
The shadow moves slowly, methodically, as if hunting for something. When you think it has finally left you three heave a sigh of relief.
Why did the Prototype come for you himself? This entire journey he has used his followers, his pawns, to do his bidding. What was so important that he just had to travel down here personally?
“Poppy.” You blurt out. Both Doey and Kissy look at you, puzzled. “The Prototype wants Poppy.”
Doey, uncertain, voices out his concerns. “Why? What does he want with her?” You think of the glass case, how she was trapped in there for years, alone. But seeing as she had not told Doey anything you decide to keep that to yourself. For now, at least. It was only conjecture, anyway.
“I don’t know. But she’s so important to him that he came all the way here by himself to get her.” The more you think about it, the more it starts making sense. “We can assume that anywhere she is, that’s the Prototype’s objective.” Which means…
“Safe Haven.” The doughman mutters.
“That’s right. But if that’s the case, why have we been left alone for so long?” You think of the defense system of the shelter. The generator. It could be a factor but there’s no way the Prototype would be deterred by something as trivial as that.
You gaze towards Doey, an orange hand on his chin and squinted eyes, deep in thought. He is by far the strongest toy you’ve come across. He can effortlessly change his shape at will, and he seems to only be hurt by the cold. He would be a formidable opponent.
“Doey may be the answer.” You say. “He is our strongest asset. I believe the Prototype knows that he would not win in a direct confrontation with him. As long as he guards this place, the Prototype won’t dare attack in person.”
Doey puts a hand to his fist, a determined expression on his face. “I will protect my home from that monster, with my life if I have to.” You shake your head with a slight smile. You expected nothing less from him.
“That does not mean he will stay idle, however. If he can’t attack physically, what’s his next best choice?” If he can’t be the one to bring down Safe Haven, what can he use instead?
Us. The answer strikes your mind like lightning, your eyes widening in shock.
“Sabotage.” You proclaim. “Sabotage and subterfuge.” You explain yourself. “He will try to use the shelter’s own systems to his advantage. He wants to make us into the artificers of our own destruction.” Crossing your arms, you frown. “We should check the security system, and the generator. Anything connected to the electrical network. The Prototype may have already made his move.” You turn towards the doughman. “Doey, I entrust this task to you. You know this place better than any of us.” He nods, ready to act. As for Kissy…
“Kissy.” You sigh. “Please, find Poppy and try to talk some sense into her. She’s a valuable ally, and we cannot afford to lose her.” She immediately starts moving towards the exit, in her mind the many hiding places where the doll could be.
“I will try to find anything, be it document or tape, that can give us a bit more information about the Prototype. There must be something we can use.” With that, you conclude. “We will meet here again tomorrow. Good luck.”
Exiting the room, as you begin making your way to the caves, something catches your eye. A mural, one of the many the toys had painted over the walls of Safe Haven, depicting the residents together, with Doey encircling his arms around them like a shield. However, something had changed since you had last seen it.
The frowns that had adorned every toy’s face had been painted over, now transformed into bright, joyful smiles. Even Doey had been graced with a grin, his eyes a pair of happy crescents. And right beside him…
A new face had been drawn, the crude, childish strokes depicting someone beaming. A Grab Pack on their shoulders, its arms extending to the sides to mimic those of the doughman: a second layer of protection against the terrors on the outside. On the bottom, the words “SAFE HAVEN” written in black.
It was you.
Eyes welling up, heart swelling with gratitude, you turn around. The Prototype could wait a little longer. You had many hugs to give.
