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Astro missed seeing the sky.
He loved the starry sky the most, of course. Astro could point out every constellation, every star, to anyone that asked. Most people got overwhelmed or bored after a while of him talking their ear off, something he usually did not do otherwise.
Dandy never did, though.
Astro and Dandy used to sit together every night, under the stars, either outside or under the Gardenview dome. Astro would point out every star that could be seen, and Dandy would listen intently, despite definitely hearing the explanations thousands of times. In the beginning, Astro would often get embarrassed, and would ask Dandy if he was absolutely sure he didn’t want to do anything else, or he would apologize for going off on a tangent about the ancient myths surrounding the stars, or just fall quiet out of shame and uncertainty.
Dandy would always smile wide, and laugh, and say he liked seeing this side of Astro.
Occasionally, other toons would join them. Often to fall asleep in a big pile after an hour or so, but Astro never minded. It was warm, and comforting, and the night sky became his security, wrapped around him like his trusty blanket.
But there was one misconception that Astro never cleared up.
Astro loved the daylight just as much.
Sometimes the sun was harsh, and bright, and hurt his eyes. Sometimes it was sweltering hot, and he squirmed under his blanket with discomfort. It was often noisy outside, with kids and toons yelling with excitement, and the bustling everyday life under the sun. If Astro was ever spotted outside during the day, it was usually tucked under the shade of a tree, out of the way of everything else.
This was Astro’s secret: he loved the daylight, because it was when Dandy really shone.
Whenever the sunlight was out, Dandy’s petals seemed to brighten, his stance a little more confident, his smile more genuine and warm. He was always busy - with the show, with the kids, with the handlers. As the mascot of Gardenview, he was on the move. But whenever Dandy had that rare moment to just sit and bask in the sun, his face tilted towards the rays, his expression totally peaceful… that was what Astro loved seeing the most. It was during those rare moments that Dandy looked truly happy, truly himself.
Perhaps that’s why Astro had not seen Dandy’s smile be genuine in a very, very long time.
The dome had long closed, the sky never seen. There was no way to get to the outside anymore after everything had been boarded up. With every toon working overtime to extract ichor to power the facility and each other, even if they could somehow sneak outside, there was no time.
Astro had not seen the sun in many years now. Every day, he searched for it–that warmth, that peace, that joy. But looking into Dandy’s face, he saw no more of the sun that used to shine there. He only saw fatigue, fake cheerfulness, and a hint of desperation.
He didn’t know what Dandy was doing behind closed doors. Every time one of the toons revived after a failed run, it was a gamble whether they would come back as their old self, or as a twisted, hostile monster. But Dandy would not let anyone else see the process, would dodge or ignore questions or accusations from the others, would only simply ask for two things: to extract more ichor, and to give him more tapes.
Astro could only gather tapes, give them to the sun which once shone brightly, and hope that his light would one day return.