Chapter Text
Player never thought he would get caught, but those extra bodies could be rather agile when Sawyer wanted them to be. The thick ropes tied around his wrists, usually for when Yarnaby needed something to chew, felt like they were cutting off his circulation. And the way he was forced to sit on the hard flooring made his tail bone ache. And yet he could only watch and listen as Sawyer poked and prodded at him while saying notes allowed. More to just provoke Player if anything.
“The specimen is…surprisingly pliable despite what it has gone through. Notes of hidden muscles being here long since coming here, meaning a possible labor job…blah blah…blah…”
Player had started blocking out his words after a while. All he wanted was to sleep, but this stupid man– machine thing, wouldn’t let him. The feeling of the cold metal running along the fabric of his clothes and his soft skin was like a surprising jolt. Why did he even come here anyways, that omni-hand probably wasn’t even that important. It’s just some goddamn hand that-
He let out a gasp as those same metal fingers gripped his hair, his own hands going up to grab Sawyer’s, at least he thought they did, but they really just gripped the ropes tying their wrists together. His eyes narrowed into a glare and stared into that amused blue one.
“Hmmm, the subject clearly doesn’t like its hair being touched. Duly noted.” Player let out a grunt as the hand holding his hair loosened and left to grab his face. “It also doesn’t seem to talk. Very rude of you.”
It? He is not an it. He is a human being- he is his own brain. He- …Was he human at that point? Sure didn’t feel like it, with all he’s been through. Either way, he sure wasn’t an it. I mean, with the way he just kicked Sawyer back, he didn’t seem like one.
Sawyer almost yelped as he was suddenly kicked, the faint static behind his every word screamed with surprise and annoyance. “You fucker- What the hell was that for!?”
Player held in a chuckle at the Doctor’s reaction. His hands twitched as though he was signing something, before Player remembered that he couldn’t.
“Why are you wriggling around like that? I hope you know those ropes aren’t letting go of you.” The machine said with a laugh, standing up and looking down at the man with disdain.
“Professor ███, what a pleasure seeing you. You wouldn't happen to know how 1166 is doing, would you?” The static was a surprise to P, seeing the very person he often worked for now basically below him.
[I do know. Though I have not been told to tell you.]
Sawyer almost forgot how to read ASL, making him have to sit there for a moment before finally speaking. “Didn't catch that. Repeat the motions.”
The professor paused before going again. Slower, like he was teaching a baby. [I know how 1166 is, but I have not been permitted to tell you.]
“Of course. Of course you wouldn't tell me. Whatever, why are you here anyways?”
[I haven't gotten to see you in your.. New form, yet.]
The conversation was pretty boring, for a man who usually kept the professor on his toes, nothing seemed to scare him.
[Must say, you have lost your skills. I expected better of you.] And with that said, ███ turned and walked off with a taunting yawn.
Sawyer forgot how peaceful one can look when sleeping. He was simply testing out the proportions of Player's leg and moved the joints when he felt a sudden weight on his shoulder. Glancing over, he saw the same man fast asleep, his mouth slightly open. His hands let go of the leg he was holding to move Player back against the wall, fingers gently pushing his jaw closed.
“Clearly needed sleep. Didn't expect the subject to fall asleep so fast.” Of course Sawyer knew Player's name. It wasn't ‘Subject’. That's not a name. But he wasn't sure if the man wanted him to be called that. After everything the two had been through, maybe the man didn't want to be associated with PlayTime Co.
The Doctor's eyes trailed over the sleeping face of the man in front of him. That mask he wore, the old employee suit. A poorly put on tie under it. The cuffs of the sleeves were ripped, along with the ends of the pants. The shirt was poorly tucked in, likely Player not wanting to tuck it back in. His hair was tied up, not long but not short either. Greasy and slightly matted from blood. In fact, every bit of him was stained with blood and mud. It wasn't unexpected, but maybe a bit excessive. Clearly those toys did not care for cleanliness. Water being around was rare, though.
Sawyer ran his fingers through the knotted hair, carefully trying to pick out each one without waking Player up. Lucky for him, Player was deep asleep.
Bad sleep, he concluded.
His metal fingers eventually moved from his hair to grab Player's chin. He wasn't one to admire much, but it's been so long since he's gotten to look at a human. Especially not one so strong and stubborn at the same time.
Player had actually managed to sleep, even if Sawyer was around. Maybe not that long, but very refreshing. When he woke up, he realized he had been drooling. His body contorted to wipe the drool with his shoulder. When he moved, he felt his joints crack and pop with stiffness.
“Looks like someone's awake.” And there was that stupid voice again. “Ready to actually cooperate?"
They groaned, but nodded anyway. Not like he had much of a choice. That seemed to make the Doctor happy as he walked over and untied Player's wrists.
Without so much as a thought, Player stood and scrambled away from Sawyer, almost falling in the process. “Wow… Really hate me that much?”
Player hands twitched as though he was going to sign again, but chose not to. He wasn't even sure if Sawyer understood ASL still. Or if he himself could sign. It's been awhile since he's tried, since all the toys he's met don't understand it.
“Cat got your tongue, boy? Are you scared?” Sawyer teased, and Player knew what he was doing. He was trying to rile the man up, and he wouldn't allow it.
He decided to sign. His hands moved slowly, hoping that Sawyer understood a little at least. [Where is the Grab-Pack?]
The Doctor paused and seemed to stare at Player before speaking. “I forgot you can’t speak. Right, give me a moment.” And with that the Doctor's screen darkened and everything suddenly went suffocatingly silent.
Player walked over to the body suspiciously and grabbed at him. His hands running over the metal and the poorly stitched together lab coats that were supposed to be a cloak.
He was surprised when the screen suddenly turned back on and his hands were grabbed. He was ashamed to hear himself squeak and almost fall over.
“... What a weird noise. Don't touch my body. Go ahead and do that sign language again.” The Doctor laughed and proceeded to let go of Player's hands.
Backing up, Player signed again. [Where is the Grab-Pack? Is it in one piece still?]
It was a question that seemed stupid, but was rather important. He needed that GrabPack to survive down here, it's how he killed most of those toys anyways. “I… disposed of it. You don't need it currently.”
[Disposed!? I needed that!]
“You act like you were married to the thing.”
[Maybe I am a little attached… But still, why?]
“It wasn't of much use. And I would rather you not use it on me. End of discussion.” Sawyer waved his hand dismissively and walked away from Player. “I need to do some work, walk around just don't touch anything.”
“Professor ███, if you could go check up on 1222 for me that would be rather appreciated.” The professor had no choice other than to listen to those words, not like he was trying to lose his job.
Each footstep through the lab echoed in the long halls. His shoes sounded almost like tap shoes as other scientists walked past him without nearly a glance. By the time he reached 1222, someone was already in there.
“Ah, ███, nice to see you here. I'm assuming Doctor Sawyer sent ya.” Pierre's words went in one ear and seemingly got stuck on a piece of his brain because a groan escaped him in response. “Don't give me that. Just help me get this thing to talk.”
███ felt a bit frustrated at the thought of having to even be in the same room as Pierre, but he was his superior so not like he had a choice.
So, he did his best. 1222 wasn't much of a talker though, only with the kids, so of course all he got was a hand smacked straight into the glass. He didn't flinch, he was used to retaliation, but he could see Pierre jump back before coughing as if nothing happened. The professor turned to face Pierre with a shrug before walking towards the door.
He could feel Pierre's eyes on him as he walked, the glare of those sharp eyes, as well as words being pointed at him and 1222. That wasn't what he cared for though, he was already having a rough day.
“Back already, ███? Did you even go to 1222’s room?” He hadn't even realized he walked there, must've been instinct. Quickly shoving his clipboard in his armpit, he signed with his fingers.
[Yeah. Pierre was there, though. 1222 also didn't talk.] His hands tapped each other and fingers flicked at a speed just barely fast enough for Sawyer to read.
Sawyer seemed to get it based on the way he groaned and rubbed his face. “Of course, I should've expected that. Well, do whatever you need, I'm busy.” And with a wave of his hand, he went back to writing his report.
The professor wanted so badly to punch Sawyer. He kept getting tossed around as if he was nothing. Maybe he should just quit– but if he did he would get killed. Anyone with knowledge of the horrors hidden within this place would.
With a click of his tongue, he turned around and walked out of the office. He didn't know where exactly he was going, but hopefully out of these stuffy halls. And turns out that was exactly it.
The bathroom. Not ideal, but a great place to just take a breather. This headache he was running was surely going to make working hard, he probably should've asked for some Tylenol or Advil, but oh well. Sitting on the far stall, his fingers fidgeted with a small keychain of 1166 he got from some random kid. The PlayCare was an interesting place at times.
The first time ███ had gone to the PlayCare was when they personally were a child. He went to the factory for a field trip, and the PlayCare was one of the main places they went. It was made for kids after all. The second time he went was years later. He was feeling rather down in the dumps, especially since getting that sudden promotion and finding out what they were doing to the kids. Time felt slower and he kept trying to avoid the containment rooms. Sawyer had convinced him, surprisingly, to go to the PlayCare and hang out with the kids. Changing into more clean clothes first of course. At first he didn't care, but now he realized it was really out of order that Sawyer would do that.
The kids were put in different age sections. He started in the years 5-11 before moving to the older ones. 12-17. They were better than the younger kids. Not as energetic. A few of them came up to talk to him, and it was a nice conversation. Learning about the kids and their hobbies. He was never a kid person, but he didn't despise teenagers. They had a kick to them that the youngers didn't have. Something that was hard to explain.
He must’ve been there for a while because he heard the sound of someone walking in and calling his name. “███? Doctor Sawyer’s looking for you.”
He grunted in reply and shoved the keychain in his pocket as he stood up. The stall door got stuck before he shouldered it open and stumbled out. His eyes landed on the employee in front of him, one of the other doctor’s assistants stood at the door, Jason. He nodded in acknowledgement and went to wash his hands. He hadn’t used the bathroom, but Jason might think so.
“What were you doing in here anyways? He complained you were gone for almost an hour.”
Damn. That long? He’s probably in so much trouble.
Once he dried his hand he signed to the assistant, slower than he usually does. Jason is still learning ASL after all. [Taking a break. I lost track of time.]
“...Course you did, I see you around here. I’m glad I don’t work for Sawyer, he’s already hard enough to look at.” Jason laughed, and the professor simply covered his mouth to hide his smile.
[Yes. He is an interesting man. Thank you for getting me.] His hands went a bit faster, but his smile seemed enough for Jason as ███ was given a thumbs up before the assistant walked out. ███ walked out a little after, his strides long and fast as he tried to get to Sawyer as soon as possible. A few other scientists parted off to the side, seeing the Professor sprinting and deciding they didn’t want to get run over.
He knocked in the same tat-tat-tam rhythm on the door of Sawyer’s office. Once he got confirmation, his hand grasped around the doorknob and he nervously entered the door. Quietly, he closed the door behind him before walking up to Sawyer’s desk and standing beside it.
“You took awhile. Had to send some imbecile to get you.” His voice was sharp, tuned to the perfect tone that made ███ feel like a lesser being.
[I lost track of time, Doctor. Please understand that you have been overworking me.] The professor tried to reason, but Sawyer always had something to bring him down.
“Overworking? Please, you have been working perfectly fine. Overworking means to cause someone to work beyond their strength. And clearly you are perfectly strong and without any struggles.” Of course Sawyer would be the one to use a dictionary definition of words to get his way.
The professor didn’t even try to talk back, just looked straight at Sawyer’s desk with a glare. He knew better than to glare straight at the doctor, so he instead did it to the desk. The sleek brown wood covered by paper after paper of documents and files.
“...Staring at the desk won’t do anything. You look as though it’s going to turn human any moment and fight you.”
“I expected much more from you.”
“You need to catch up, you’re my assistant for a reason.”
“Why can’t you-”
███’s hands slammed onto the desk, papers crumpled under his fists and he sighed heavily. He glanced at Sawyer’s surprised face before turning around and walking off.
He could hear Sawyer yelling at him to come back from his office, even through the door, but he didn’t turn around. He knew better than to let that man get to him all the time.
When Sawyer put his ASL setting on, he thought it wouldn’t take up too much space, but turns out it was. Most of his little dusty mechanic brain had order and control, so when this sudden difference came by, it messed it all up. He was trying to write about Player, about his injuries and stubbornness, but couldn’t think clearly.
He stared at the lines running in front of his face, each one a different line of code and notes, but obviously that man needed his attention. He felt and heard the textured fingers tap on his lab coat. It was almost funny how small the human was compared to him. His screen stopped sending the code and turned to face Player.
He could see the light from his screen brighten up P’s face. The blinking eyes of the human before him, the fingers twitching in front of his chest. [Do you have any food?]
“Other than meat that Yarnaby gives me, no.” Sawyer hummed, his eye sharpening. “You can try and cook it or something, but other than that, you know.”
[Nevermind. I will pass on the food.] Player signed with slight aggression. He was mid-sign again when suddenly Sawyer spoke.
“No, I don’t have water. Or anything to clean yourself.”
[Rude. Go fuck yourself.]
“Language, boy…Actually, what do I goddamn call you?” Sawyer finally asked the question he had been needed to ask, his metal fingers tapping against each other.
[████. Just call me ████] Player hesitated when he signed the name he gave Sawyer. It wasn’t the same name he used to go by, but it was a name he preferred now.
“Right. ████. I’ll make sure to remember that.”