Chapter Text
Shadows grew stronger in the daycare. The only remaining light was the mildly eerie glow from the generator cables and the stars on the walls. Up the stairs a door could be heard, creaking quietly.
Moon, finally releasing the door handle, slunk, ghost like, to the corner of the room. A keypad with a light could be seen, the only thing illuminating the space. Inhaling sharply, Moon winced at the clank his knees made as they came into contact with the metal part of the flooring. He sighed, his pupils flitting side to side warily before he pressed his lanky mechanical finger against the keypad. A small door opened, half the size of the towering animatronic at full height. Moon ducked through, his hat brushing against the doorway, jingling softly.
Quiet humming emanated from a podium in the centre of the room. Opposite was a screen that went up all the way to the ceiling and showed a series of small images, all showing different locations. Walking up to the podium, Moon pressed a couple buttons. He felt a rush of air past his cheek, as a bright swirling blue mass formed before him.
It looked almost like smoke, and it dissipated as he walked through, leaving not a trace of blue, or Moon for that matter.
Moon stepped through the portal onto the other side; cool air rushing into his face. He felt the damp soak through his shoes from the dewy grass. He gripped his hat as it threatened to fly away in the sharp gusts of wind that scratched at his cheeks. Slowly and deliberately, air escaped from his mechanical lungs as the portal light disappeared behind him
Then he was off. The sky opened, pouring onto the ground, filling up the little dents in the dirt where his footprints dug in as he ran. The harsh, static-like sound of sheets of water hitting the floor bore into the back of his head and he cried out. Not because of the rain, but because of the pain and guilt and fear that was washing over him like floodwaters. He lost his footing. Now he was kneeling on the ground, his fingertips digging into the dirt as rainwater streamed down his face, indistinguishable to his tears.
Moon was exhausted. He needed to open the daycare and remind Sun to clean and fix the computer (again) and watch over the children in the daycare and recalibrate the portal and remind sun to clean again because he never listens the first time and-
On the table in front of him, a hand slammed down. The hand grabbed the to-do list that Moon was clutching so tightly, crushing it a little.
“Get your ass off the chair, I’m going out later so you need to mop the floor outside.”
Glaring at Moon, Sun lifted his hand from the desk and walked towards the daycare exit.
“I can't!" Moon ran after him. “I have so many things to do and - hey! Give me my list back-” he reached out to grab the list out of Sun’s fingers when-
Crash! Moon fell backwards, holding his cheek where Sun struck him.
“I DON’T CARE! IT’S YOUR PROBLEM NOW AND I'M LEAVING.” The door slammed behind Sun as he walked out, the crumpled list falling to the floor in his wake.
Black liquid fell from Moon’s cheek. He cursed. Wincing, he readjusted his faceplate.
“Another thing to fix, another thing to add to the bloody list.” he muttered, blinking back the water in his eyes. He wouldn’t cry. He wasn’t going to let Sun get to him. Not today. Or yesterday. Or ever.
The poorly bandaged area of his face hurt like hell. Gasping in pain, his fingernails dug into the ground even harder. His tears mixed with the blood on his face, dripping onto his knees. He screamed, long and loud and desperate, into the foggy nothing.
After a long shift in the daycare, Moon collapsed back into his chair, groaning. If he was human then the bags under his eyes would be so deep that it would look as if he had spilt ink over his eyeballs.
The door creaked open. Sun walked through, genuine worry hiding behind his aggressive demeanour.
“...Do you need help fixing your cheek?” He mumbled.
After a long pause, Moon replied, not looking up from the floor. “What is it you need?”
Sun faltered. Through his grimace he spoke: “I’m simply checking if you’re alright.”
The rain was just a drizzle now, trickling down his face onto the grass. He rolled onto his back, watching the drab cloudy night sky through tired eyes. Rain pooled in the ridges of his faceplate.
Moon looked away, shielding his head. “I don’t need help, not yours. I can fix it myself.” Sun looked at his face. Fixing a faceplate is an easy job, even for Sun, despite his lack of knowledge of mechanics. He wondered why Moon hadn’t fixed it himself yet, though he understood why after he saw how violently Moon’s hands were shaking.
“I’m upstairs if you need help. That's all.”
Moon eyeballed his computer intensely, even though it was off. He wouldn’t look in Sun’s direction. Taking the hint, Sun stepped out of the door to the daycare.
Light shone over the field. Not the natural light of sunrise but the harsh glare of torchlight against the black.
“Moon? Moon!” A voice called out, gravelly and rough, though Moon didn’t recoil. He lifted his head from the muddy earth. Rainwater dripped from his face, illuminated, as it trickled to the ground.
The voice called out again.
“Moon! There you are, I’ve been looking for you, what the hell are you doing out here man?!”
Moon was silent. He sat up slowly, his mechanical joints clicking painfully.
After walking out of the daycare, Sun made his way up the stairs to the second level, teleporting to the rooms above the ballpit. In the corner of the room was a shabby sofa, next to an old broken playhouse tossed carelessly against the creaky floorboards. He collapsed on the sofa, fiddling with the loose threads on the ends of his shorts and muttering quietly to himself about nothing in particular.
“Moon will be alright,” he mumbled. “...Not the first time…”
“Jesus, how long have you been out here?”
Moon looked on blankly.
“...Moon?”
A spark of realisation passed Moon's eyes as he looked up at the figure standing before him. Blinking to get the dirt out of his eyes, he finally croaked:
“Monty?...Where…what time is…” He inhaled sharply, instinctively reaching up to the crack in his faceplate.
Monty bit his lip. “Yowch, that looks painful…let's get you fixed up bud.” He extended his hand out. Moon looked up at him for a moment, his head pulsing almost as hard as the rain beating down on him earlier. Gingerly, he reached out. He was greeted with a rough tug of the arm as Monty took Moon’s hand and put it over his shoulder. Moon was pulled up, and he nearly fell again, unable to find his footing. With Monty’s help, he started walking across the field.
The fluorescent LED lights in the ceiling of the daycare switched on abruptly, bathing Sun in the painfully bright reminder of the morning. Groaning, he rubbed his eyes and rolled off the couch. “I must have fallen asleep…” he thought, readjusting his rays.
Moon treaded more carefully than he had before. Dawn had arrived and as the first rays of sunlight shone over the horizon: he clamped his eyes shut and kept walking.
Sun sighed aggressively. “MOON!” He heard no response. “MOON GET UP.” He flicked the curtain in front of Moon’s door aside as he marched into the room. He opened his mouth to yell again, but he paused. Moon wasn’t in his bed. Or in his room at all for that matter. He cursed under his breath and walked out of the room. Making up his mind, he headed for Parts and Service.
Monty stopped abruptly: Moon almost tripped over again.
“Here’s the spot where the portal opened, right?”
Moon didn’t respond. Monty sighed and pressed a couple buttons on his wrist. Again, just like earlier, a smoky portal appeared in the field. Stumbling, Moon went through the portal, Monty following close behind.
Moon crawled into the pod down in Parts and Service, slowly closing the door behind him.
“Alright, we’ve just gotta wash this dirt and whatever crap outta your system, fix your faceplate and then you’ll be good to go.”
Moon nodded, smiling weakly.
Without warning, the doors to the room were slammed open as Sun stormed through.
“Where the hell is Moon, there’s shit to do in the daycare and we’re about to open.” Sun growled, his hands balled into fists. Moon lowered his head, shielding his face, though he was still safe in the pod. Marching up to the entrance, Monty walked up to Sun, staring at him with the intensity of a laser.
“Listen here you gangly fuck. You don’t get to drag him out of here. He ran away and passed out in some fucking field just to get away from your bullshit. If you have an OUNCE of remorse in your stupid spiky head then you'd go back, and DO YOUR JOB.”
Taken aback, Sun replied warily. “Is he… alright?”
“NO? OF COURSE HE’S NOT ALRIGHT!”
CRASH! Sun watched the doors slam unforgivingly in his face. He sat there for a moment, a little dazed.
“He’ll be fine… ‘ts not the first time…” he muttered, treading back to the daycare. A single tear rolled down his cheek before he hurriedly flicked it away.