Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Bye, guys! I'll talk to you later...!"

"Cya, Tennis Ball!"

Tennis Ball closed the door of the hotel behind him with an exhausted sigh. He had been invited by Price Tag to participate in a game night with a whole bunch of other residents, and while usually he would refuse (mostly because Golf Ball never showed up), he was convinced when it was revealed to him that Four and X were going to be providing the snacks for the hangout. How could he ever pass that opportunity up?

It was fun, he will admit, he had smashed his competition in a trivia match that was hosted, scoring second place only a few points short of Book, and while he had been the first to go bankrupt in Monopoly, it was really entertaining to watch Eraser and Teardrop butt heads the entire time. Too bad the game was cut short when Snowball threw the board across the room.

Point is, he is drained and, in all honesty, just wanted to head to his room, however, because he decided to leave the game night early, he knew it would take HOURS before the hotel was silent enough for him to sleep. That's why he is headed to the next best place, Golf Ball's underground factory. It was basically his second home by now, he spent more hours in there working than in his own room for racket's sake!

The trip wasn't long, and he soon found himself going down the thousands of stairs that led to the bottom. An arduous task, but he was, unfortunately, used to it by now. He just hoped he didn't trip and fall in Golf Ball's incinerator, it would take hours until someone realised he died and revived him.

The sounds of machinery and gears in the silence of the factory might have sounded eerie to most objects, but for Tennis Ball, it was almost calming. Sure, it was a stark contrast to the constant chatter in the hotel or the quiet sounds of nature on the surface, but he never seemed to mind if it meant he got to see his best friend.

Speaking of which, his legs started walking to her working desk before he even realised. It was muscle memory at this point.

Golf Ball was engulfed in her work, her desk was a mess, notes and other papers were scattered everywhere, some even on the floor, either forgotten or placed there due to lack of space on the surface of the table. But as soon as she heard the doors to her underground factory open and Tennis Ball call out her name, she perked up.

She spun around on her chair and basically jumped out of it to face Tennis Ball, who simply looked at her in amusement, which quickly grew into concern as he took in the state she was in. She looked dishevelled, to say the least. She seemed to always carry eye bags on her face, but they somehow looked worse today.

Overall, she looked exhausted, but still sporting that determined, proud look in her eyes, as she always did when working on her inventions and experiments.

"Tennis Ball! Just the object I wanted to see!"

"Uh, Golf Ball, you look...tired, have you been sleeping at all?"

"Do not fret over my condition, Tennis Ball, I am perfectly fine." She stated, as bluntly as ever. "I shall get my rest when I am finished with my latest project, but for now, I must keep awake," She ran over to her desk, moving papers around quickly, determined to find a specific sheet to show to Tennis Ball. Eventually, she found it, grabbed it and proudly displayed it to her lab partner.

"Behold! My greatest creation to date!"

Said 'greatest creation' was barely legible. The writing was all smudged, messy, and looked rushed, plus Tennis Ball was sure there were a few spills of coffee and possibly other experimental energy drinks Golf Ball created, along the page.

Tennis Ball took the paper carefully and skimmed over the written text. Or at least he would've, if he understood anything.

He squinted his eyes, trying to get at least the overview of what Golf Ball was showing him, but it might as well have been a long-ago-forgotten ancient language, because he couldn't for the love of him decipher any of what was written down.

"What am I... "beholding" exactly?"

Golf Ball eyed Tennis Ball in annoyance, opening her mouth to question his words, but as soon as her eyes landed on the sheet of paper again, she deflated. She couldn't even blame Tennis Ball, she wouldn't be able to read it either if it wasn't her handwriting. She really needed to rewrite that at some point. She didn't tell Tennis Ball this, though, that would be a hit to her pride, and she couldn't have that, so she just scoffed and snatched the paper from Tennis Ball.

"Give me that!"

She placed the sheet of paper on her desk once again and walked past Tennis Ball, knowing he'd follow anyway. "No matter, I'll just show it to you. You are a crucial part of this project anyhow."

"Oookay...?"

He followed suit after his friend, swallowing down the nerves that surfaced when thinking of what Golf Ball wanted to show him. Sure, she was his best friend! She was a genius, and he marvelled at her intellect, but sometimes she could be... a tiny bit intense, often going overboard when it came to her experiments.

Whatever the case, his curiosity only grew the more they walked.

"Hey Golfie, am I going to be needed as a test subject?" He questioned. Golf Ball said he would be crucial to whatever she showed him, so that meant that she either needed his help (rare, but nothing new) orr he was going to be experimented on (less rare, but still nothing new).

"Not this time," Golf Ball assured, leading him through her factory until they reached a familiar door Tennis Ball had grown to know. It was used for live subjects, creatures, bugs, etc, to experiment on, store, or to simply temporarily house while they took notes. At the moment, it should've been empty since the bug infestation that released and/or killed all of their subjects, truly a monumental loss.

It clearly wasn't empty now, though, if Golf Ball was leading them there. It concerned him a bit that she was this excited over a live subject, but he tried reassuring himself that it was probably nothing, just the nerves talking. He trusted Golf Ball, and he didn't want to jump to any conclusions just yet.

"So, uh, what do you have in there? Some kind of new live experiment?"

He just hoped whatever it was wouldn't be too dangerous…

"Yes, yes! Come, follow me and behold my creation!"

She ran inside the room, with Tennis Ball following close behind her. Upon inspection, it looked the same as always, sterilised and clean, with an almost blinding white covering most surfaces. It had containment pods and shelves full of documents that had stacked over the years, and a door in the far right of the room that was used as a storage closet by both of them. Imagine his surprise when he saw Golf Ball heading towards it instead of any of the other areas she could have kept a live subject.

He decided not to question her yet, but he could already begin to feel a bead of sweat forming on his face.

They came face to face with the door, and Tennis Ball was immediately taken aback by how it looked. The previously simple door was now made out of strong steel, having an implemented keyboard on its side to input a password. Jeez, what could she have locked away in there? Perhaps a dangerous variant of the many creatures they encountered or...maybe something even worse!

She input the code and walked in. Golf Ball was quiet with her steps, so Tennis Ball followed suit, doing his best to be silent. Perhaps this creature was sensitive to sound?

They reached what looked like a...pod? Of sorts. It was clearly more advanced than a simple pod, it was furnished with blankets. On its side, there were a ton of settings like a temperature regulator, a sound player, and probably more, but that's what he could pick up only by looking at it anyway. There was no telling what else Golf Ball decided to implement. But that's not what shocked Tennis Ball.

Golf Ball walked up to the pod, motioning for him to look inside, and he did, albeit hesitantly. What shocked him was that inside there was a literal baby! A little sleeping ping pong ball from the looks of it, eerily resembling both him and Golf Ball.

"I expected it to be at an already advanced age when I created it, but not to worry! This is simply a temporary setback to our progress!" She piped up, as if talking about a machine she created, and not an actual child.

Tennis Ball was taken aback, but he somehow managed to string together a coherent reply. "Golf Ball, what on goinky land is this!? Where did you get this baby from!?"

"I have combined both of our genetic makeup in order to produce a lifeform that exhibits only the most superior of intellects!" She said matter-of-factly, like it wasn't an insane statement in and of itself.

"Excuse me- OUR genetic makeup?!"

"Yes, who else would have the intellect to match mine?"

Tennis Ball might have looked decently put together on the outside, save for the shell-shocked look on his face, but inside, he was FREAKING OUT. Oh tennis ball factory, he wasn't ready to be a dad! In this economy?? When he said he wanted to have a family with Golf Ball, this is NOT what he meant! Okay, calm down! You have a child with your best friend now, everything is fine!

He took a deep breath.

Gosh, this is not what he expected when he woke up today.

"A- A baby? We… made a baby?"

Tennis Ball looked back and forth between the infant and Golf Ball, searching her face for any hint that she might be joking. Maybe this was just a very late April Fool's prank!

"Well, I created a baby, you don't get to take credit for my sleepless nights." Golf Ball stated, still not understanding the seriousness of the situation further than a science experiment, or Tennis Ball's inner turmoil for that matter. "Do not worry, it is simply a means to an end."

"A means to an end!? Golfie- this is a living being!" He said, exasperated. "You created a child! Without even consulting me about it first!" Tennis Ball might have raised his voice a little too much, because before they knew it, the previously sleeping baby began to stir. Both scientists immediately stopped their bickering and looked at the pod with wide eyes.

"Ohhh no..."

Loud crying filled the otherwise silent room, causing them both to wince. It was ear-piercing. Why did people choose to have kids, he wondered? But then again, the object standing next to him literally created one out of pure, raw, scientific knowledge, so what would he know?

"Gah! Now look what you did, TB!"

"Me?! I'll have you know I was making extremely valid points!"

"Whatever! Just- Fix this!!"

Tennis Ball frowned, sometimes he wondered why he put up with Golf Ball. He gingerly reached into the pod and carefully scooped the child up, leaning the kid against him, so it was easier for him to balance, with the lack of arms and all that.

He cringed as he felt his fur begin to grow soggy where the baby burrowed his (or her?) face. "Uhm- there, there?" He was trying his best, okay? Sure, using his legs instead of his arms in day-to-day life was something he had grown used to, he had to, otherwise he would never have been able to become a scientist, but it still felt weird trying to rock the child he was holding with them.

It seemed to be working, at least, and the crying soon turned to sniffles, which made them both let out a sigh of relief.

"Good job, TB! Now back to what I was saying-"

Golf Ball might have gone back to yapping about how revolutionary this "experiment" would be for the scientific community, and waving away Tennis Ball's previous complaints, but Tennis Ball was entirely focused on the tiny ball on his arms, looking up at him with big, wet eyes. Awee...

A sting of pain pulled him out of his thoughts when the baby accidentally pulled at his fuzz. The wince from Tennis Ball made the baby start giggling, oh my sport, he was already such a little menace. "Heh..."

"TENNISBALL, ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME?!"

"Uhhhhh...yes?"

"Oh, for science's sake, TB, you are integral to this experiment, pay attention!" She scolded, keeping her tone low so that her creation wouldn't start bawling its eyes out again. "As I was saying, an object with intelligence of that calibre will surely increase productivity if it helps around the factory-"

"Golfie… this isn’t a machine. It’s not an invention. You can't treat him like one!"

Said "invention" started babbling nonsense, trying and failing to climb Tennis Ball, and being held tighter for the trouble.

"... We made something that loves us already. And you're talking about productivity?" His voice softened into something tender and terrified all at once. He felt irrational, impulsive, all the things he swore up and down he wasn't, but could you really blame him?

Golf Ball blinked in confusion at Tennis Ball's sudden change in demeanour. She looked down at the infant, who was now awake, and took to curiously looking around in awe at everything around him. She didn't know what was so astonishing about the room to pull such a reaction from it, there was barely any furniture apart from the shelves used for storage purposes. "How can it love us if it was just created? That's illogical," Her tone was stern but not unkind, she genuinely did not understand Tennis Ball's anxiety.

"H-he just does, okay?!" He stammered out, clinging to the child tighter, who wiggled, fussing softly in his arms before snuggling against him with a contented sound.

Golf Ball stared at Tennis Ball blankly for a second, but ultimately decided not to protest further. "I will say, I did not expect you to get this attached to the experiment. At least not to this extent." She turned her gaze to the infant, again, it was softer than before, less calculated. "But if you're going to participate in this, I guess I cannot intervene in that."

Tennis Ball exhaled in some sort of relief and adjusted the hold he had on the kid. He cradled the child gingerly, and as much as he wasn't used to it, it felt... natural.

He looked up at Golf Ball, a genuine smile blooming where nervous tension once was.

"... So... does it have a name?"

"Its name is Experiment I.U. v.4!"

"I.U...?" Tennis Ball tilted his head, gently rocking the baby as it giggled at his face. "Like... 'I you'?"

"No, Tennis Ball, I.U. as in intelligence Unit."

Oh. Well, that's less romantic.

"Could we... maybe call it something less... scientific?"

"We could go for 'Ping Pong Ball' if you'd prefer," Golf Ball suggested, "It is its intended species, and the most common solution to name giving in object-kind."

Tennis Ball rolled his eyes affectionately at the suggestion.

"You would go for something boring."

"Excuse me?"

He considered it for a moment, the child cooing and tugging at him. A moment of quiet contemplation settled between them, comfortable yet charged.

"What about..."

He lifted his gaze to meet Golf Ball's, his voice dropping to a hopeful murmur.

"What about... 'Pongy'?"

"Pongy?" She parroted back.

"Yeah! I mean- that does fit within the naming patterns around very well too!" He decided to go the rational route instead of the emotional one, which always seemed to get Golf Ball to follow his train of thought better. "You know, rock-y, grass-y, nail-y, the list goes on!"

"Plus, it sorta rolls off the tongue, no?" He sounded the name out slowly, as if testing it. "Pong-y."

"Very well," Golf Ball nodded and pulled out her clipboard, sitting down on the floor, so she could write this newly added information on her creation's chart.

Tennis Ball watched her jot this down on her clipboard, bouncing Pongy gently to keep the infant entertained. For once, his brain wasn't running a thousand miles per hour, he felt... relaxed. Just focused on the small child he held.

His gaze wandered curiously over the other notes, diagrams, and equations scattered around the room. All signs of long hours of work... and not a lot of sleep.

"Golfie," he said carefully, "have you... slept recently?"

Golf Ball scribbled on her clipboard, muttering, "Subject I.U v.4... alias: 'Pongy.' Note: displays signs of emotional attachment to T—"

She paused mid-sentence and looked up at her friend.

"I slept what is deemed enough for no cerebral injury to occur, and enough to keep productivity going."

"‘Enough to avoid brain injury’ doesn’t count as enough sleep, Golfie."

Tennis Ball gently shifted Pongy and walked a little closer, peering at her notes with concern.

"You’re running on fumes."

"I can assure you that I know my limits. In fact, I have a whole spreadsheet on it," Golf Ball said bluntly, "You need not worry about me, TB," and that was that. She looked down at her unfinished notes and kept writing.

"A spreadsheet... on your limits."

Tennis Ball blinked at her, clearly not convinced.

He knew this was just Golf Ball being... herself. The science-heavy, straight-shooting, logic-driven, incredibly stubborn object he loved. Emphasis on the last one.

"You do realise that doesn't make me worry less, Golfie."

"You worry too much." Golf Ball got up and placed the clipboard on a small bedside table next to the child's pod. "Hand me the experiment"

Tennis Ball rolled his eyes again, but he obeyed, placing Golf Ball's waiting hold.

He watched as Golf Ball inspected the newly dubbed 'Pongy' closely, her eyes narrowing in scientific scrutiny. His own gaze followed her movements intently.

"I worry, Golfie, because I care. Crazy concept, I know."

She did not deem that with a response, focusing on the infant with clinical focus. "Hello, I am Golf Ball, your main caregiver," She observed the baby as if awaiting a response, and that she got, well, if a tiny foot in her face counted as one. It giggled, and Golf Ball huffed gently, narrowing her eyes at it. "Please refrain from doing that."

"Aw, I think it likes you!" As if to contradict that statement, in a matter of seconds, the baby seemed to grow bored and started fussing again, reaching out towards Tennis Ball once more with his tiny legs.

Golf Ball frowned. "How come he is requesting you to hold it? I am its creator!"

"Well... maybe 'cause I’ve been holding him like… actual baby-carry-style? Not clipboard-style?"

This pulled a grumble from Golf Ball, but she passed the infant to Tennis Ball. She wasn't all that keen on the whining coming from the exper— Pongy, anyway.

Tennis Ball settled the baby back against him and then smiled at how immediately settled Pongy seemed. The baby nuzzled against him, cooing and batting at him.

"Y'know... I never really thought about being a parent before," he said, voice soft. "But...this feels right. Almost... weirdly natural."

"Not a parent." Golf Ball corrected "We're simply caregivers"

"Right. Caregivers," he agreed, though he couldn't quite help the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

What have they gotten themselves into…?

Chapter Text

The next day, Tennis Ball and Golf Ball were nowhere to be seen. They holed themselves up in the underground factory, away from any other objects, to manage the new situation that they found themselves in. Or, well, the situation Golf Ball PUT them in, but that's besides the point.

The first change Tennis Ball demanded be made was the state of Pongy's room. Although it had the necessary accommodations for an infant, such as a resting space and an adjustable temperature to keep it comfortable, he insisted that a lab was not a suitable place for a child to be raised.

He decided that they needed to either find a new bedroom for him or decorate the one he had now, so it didn't look like a hospital room. Golf Ball met him in the middle and let Tennis Ball do his thing while she focused on the actual important stuff.

That being, setting up a monitor on Pongy's pod to alert them if the experiment grew distressed (...or a baby monitor, as TB called it), as well as creating a home-made formula to supply her creation with the utmost nutrients that would surely put him leagues above his peers.

"GB, what do you think, yellow or blue wallpaper for the room?" Tennis Ball asked, pulling her out of her thoughts. Pongy was entertained inside his pod, shaking a plastic bottle with beads up and down, so she had tuned out the noise around her a while ago, solely focusing on the task of connecting the baby monitor to their rooms in the hotel.

The bottle thing had been TB's idea, since they still didn't possess actual toys to give to Pongy, and he wouldn't stop trying to climb out of his crib out of boredom.

"Oh, uhm, whatever is fine."

"Yeah, but I don't know which one to pick, that's why I'm asking you,"

Golf Ball hummed in consideration. Not that it made a difference to her, it really didn't, but she wanted to indulge TB, it was their shared experiment after all.

"Hm. Blue?"

"Okayy,"

Tennis Ball was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall, so he could use his phone more efficiently. Since there weren't any stores nearby (although he couldn't blame them, the hotel was a magnet for all kinds of trouble), he was ordering from the trustiest online shop available, Yellow Face & Taggy's warehouse™.

He knew Yellow Face didn't check who ordered what from him, he just hoped Taggy didn't get nosy and peek at their order. He'd rather this whole thing didn't get out so soon, gossip spread like wildfire in the hotel.

"So, I've ordered toys, a night-light, a huge carpet, furniture—"

"Did you order in the enclosure?"

"Oh yeah, the baby fence, andd now the wallpaper. Boop!" TB clicked order. "Now we wait!"

.

.

.

"What's taking them so long—"

CRASH

"Oh."

"I'll get it!"

Tennis Ball exited the room and ran to the main area of the factory. He came face to face with just what he expected, a giant cardboard box that crash-landed right through the previously shut factory doors, leaving behind a huge hole in its way. Ah, they'd have to deal with that later. Tennis Ball took a closer look and noticed the box had a yellow sticky note attached to it.

It read "YOU OWE ME 292.482.72$ MILLION DOLLARS" in big bold letters. Whatever, it's not like Yellow Face ever followed through with collecting said money, it's a wonder he's still in business. And even in the unlikely scenario that he did come to collect what he was owed, they could just get Pen to pay it for them. Would he feel bad for taking advantage of his kindness? Yeah, but the guy was already trillions of dollars in debt, a little more couldn't hurt.

Putting that out of the way. Now that the package was here, a new problem arose. There was no way in the spherical world that he could carry a box that was bigger and a thousand times heavier than him to Pongy's room, so he needed to painstakingly go back and forth to take everything inside.

Tennis Ball had to climb the package, so he could rip away the tape holding the box's flaps shut and reach in to grab the first item he would take back. From inside, he felt himself grab something soft, huh. He pulled it out, and from the depths of the piles of stuff, emerged a multicoloured dragon stuffie. Perfect!

Now with the toy in his grasp, along with a blanket that he used to wrap a few more items that he wanted to take, such as a pacifier, a baby bottle, and things of that sort, to make it easier for him to carry.

When he walked back into Pongy's room, Golf Ball had forgone her task of setting up the baby monitor to feed their baby. Tennis ball factory, it still felt wrong to call Pongy 'their kid', even if genetically speaking, he was in fact 'theirs'.

She was sitting on the floor, using one leg to hold Pongy and prop him up while she fed him the formula she created. Since they didn't have a proper baby bottle up until now, she was using a small medicine glass they had washed and put away for this reason.

Golf Ball didn't even notice when Tennis Ball came back, way too focused on her task to pay any attention to her surroundings. Her expression wasn't very different from when she was handling high voltage machinery that could kill her in an instant, and the idea that those two were even slightly comparable to Golf Ball almost made TB laugh.

She only looked up at Tennis Ball when he set the small stash of items he brought down on Pongy's bedside table.

"Where's the rest?" She questioned, raising an eyebrow. Pongy, who had finished drinking his milk, started squirming in Golf Ball's hold.

She hesitantly set him down on the floor, so that we could go back to playing with his, at the moment, only toy. Only for the baby to start whining to be held again the moment his body touched the cold floor. Right, no carpet yet. With a sigh, she scooped him back up. "Golf Ball, we ordered tons of stuff, I can't bring everything all at once!"

"Nonsense, you could have used the shrink ray to reduce the package's size and bring it here!" 

"Oh, yeah, I didn't think of that actually," Tennis Ball sheepishly replied.

Seeing Pongy start fussing again, he unwrapped the blanket stuffed with baby things and grabbed the stuffed dragon he had noticed earlier. "But check out what I do have!" Tennis Ball cooed, crouching down to Pongy's level. The baby seemed enthralled with the toy, staring at it wide-eyed. It was probably the most colourful thing it had seen down at the factory.

TB didn't keep him waiting and handed him the toy, which the latter clumsily grabbed with his little legs, pulling it close. "D'awww, he likes it!"

"Of course it does, studies show that bright colours, such as the ones on this stuffed animal, can stimulate objects his age and promote cognitive and motor skills," Golf Ball explained, watching as Pongy now took an interest in getting to know what his new toy tasted like. "It's just science."

"Where did you learn that from, GB?" Tennis Ball, in turn, questioned. He knew Golf Ball was smart, but he also understood this was outside her area of expertise.

GB shot him a cocky look, puffing out her 'chest' in pride. "I'll have you know I have been researching more about the primary ages of infancy in our species, so this experiment turns out successful!" She slowly stood up, careful to not startle Pongy as she placed him back in his crib. "And so far, my methods have proven themselves useful!"

Well, TB couldn't argue with that. 

"Hey, how old even is he?"

Golf Ball perked up at the question, turning to look at him, her face morphing into a confused expression. "That is sudden. Why do you ask?" 

"Just curious, I guess," Pongy's giggles filled the otherwise quiet room as he kept chewing on every available surface of his new fuzzy friend, drenching it with a disgustingly high amount of saliva. Eugh. "You said you had been researching the first stages of infancy in our species, but how can I do the same if I don't even know his age?" TB explained. "Don't you think it's something I should know if I am such a crucial part in this 'experiment'?"

"I do," Golf Ball reassured, but not without a scolding undertone to her words. "To answer your question, TB, he has existed for only a couple of days, but physically and mentally, he should be around two or three months old, according to my research."

"Huh," TB thought aloud, tilting his head at her. "May I ask why that age?" He didn't mean to pry, but he really did have to ask. If she were looking for productivity, creating a literal baby wouldn't be the most practical for achieving such.

"As said previously, I didn't mean for him to be so young. But alas, mishaps happen, it is my first time creating life after all."

"And hopefully the last..." TB muttered under his breath. He really didn't want to come to the underground factory one day and have a repeat of Golf Ball creating a child without his knowledge or consent. One time was enough to make him grow grey hairs.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, nothing at all,"

Golf Ball squinted her eyes at him suspiciously.

"Honestly, this has been going better than I expected," Tennis Ball said, turning to look at the crib, away from her glare. "We're pretty good at this,"

This statement made GB's expression soften. "I told you it would be fine! As the smartest objects in the vicinity, I knew we could easily adapt to unfamiliar experiments such as this one."

"I guess you're right," TB smiled, eyeing Golf Ball's grin. "... Yeah, we've got this." This time, he allowed pride to coat words, he could feel determination settling in his chest instead of his usual nerves. What could he say? GB's resolve was contagious. 

As long as they stuck together, he was sure they would be fine.

Okay, maybe they don't 'got this.'

With a groan, Tennis Ball tried rocking a crying Pongy, who had been sobbing in his hold for what felt like an eternity. The clock on the wall read 3 in the morning, and at this point, he was on the verge of tears, too.

Golf Ball wasn't saved from this fate either, as she sat on the floor, buried in baby books, frantically flipping pages, trying to find out what was wrong with their kid.

"Find anything yet, Golfie?" TB asked, voice wavering, as he tried shushing the sleepless infant fruitlessly.

Golf Ball furrowed her eyebrows, eyes running quickly through the words on the page with barely controlled panic. "Not teething, too early for that...maybe he's hungry? But he keeps refusing his bottle. Perhaps he's afflicted with some kind of illness??"

"HE'S DYING?!" Tennis Ball screeched, which only made Pongy cry harder.

"NO HE'S NOT DYING!!" Golf Ball yelled, the situation beginning to affect her more than he wanted to let on, but as soon as she saw the distressed look in TB's eyes, her burst of frustration died down, replaced with waves of guilt and doubt. What were they doing wrong? What was she doing wrong? She should know better than this. Be better than this.

Who was she kidding? She had no idea what she was doing. She should have been prepared for this. But she isn’t, and now both of them are suffering because of it.

"Golfie..." Her eyes snapped open, she didn't even realise she had closed them shut, or when Tennis Ball crouched down in front of her with concerned, tired eyes. "Breathe."

Golf Ball took a deep, shuddering breath. Breathe. Panicking over this would do them no good. As much as she hated to admit it, she needed to calm down. Think.

Her gaze wandered to the reasoning for their current panic, studying him for as much visual information as she could. Pongy's face was scrunched up, from what she could see. He had curled in on himself, squirming in Tennis Ball's hold but pushing his face into TB's fuzz, bringing his little legs up to his face and eyes as if trying to hide away.

Hide away from what?

Nothing had changed in the room apart from the aesthetic aspect and a few practical alterations to the furniture, so what could cause Pongy to be this distressed? Furthermore, why now? The entirety of the day was spent without problems. If he didn't show any displeasure with the items before, why would he now?

Every single item was tested, apart from the dim night light now currently illuminating the room, instead opting for waiting until nighttime to test it, so she didn't understand what was causing Pongy to—

Wait.

Her eyes widened in quiet realisation.

"It's the night light."

"What?"

She got up on shaky legs and walked to the only source of light in the room, turning it off and plunging the room into darkness. Almost immediately, Pongy's cries quieted, soon turning into small exhausted hiccups, tuckered out from the exertion of his tiny self. Unaware of the heart attack he had almost given his caregivers.

The quiet that followed was almost unnerving, but it was quickly broken by an unbelieving, humourless laugh from Tennis Ball. "Oh my tennis ball factory."

Safe to say that even the end of the world wouldn't have been able to wake them up that night. They didn't have the strength to take themselves back to the hotel after that, so they just ended up sleeping on the carpeted floor of Pongy's room. A decision they would come to regret when they woke up sore and exhausted.

"Tennis Ball. I have a proposition." Golf Ball slid onto a seat in front of TB, who was having lunch at a random table in the hotel's lobby. Both of them looked more dishevelled than usual, something that everyone who saw them noticed, but few pointed out.

"Shoot?" He lazily replied, through a bite of his sandwich. Getting 3 hours of shut-eye every day from being woken up every 15 minutes by crying from the baby monitor, and having to drag himself from his hotel room to the underground factory to lull Pongy back to sleep, was taking a toll on him as a whole.

"We should sleep together."

The moment those words left Golf Ball's mouth, Tennis Ball almost choked on his food.

"C-come again!?"

"Under the current circumstances, if we share a room, namely one in the underground factory, navigating how to deal with our new experiment will be a lot easier and convenient."

"Oh."

Right, that's what she meant.

"So?"

"Sure, okay, yeah." He tried not to let his disappointment seep into his words.

"Great. I already have a room picked out where we can store our belongings, be ready by tomorrow." Golf Ball rattled off, sitting up from her seat. And just like that, she scurried away to do whatever it was she had planned.

TB let out a heavy sigh. She was going to be the death of him.