Archive of Our Own

The studio buzzed, high energy radiating from every room. Backstage full of chatter, orders yelled to stay on top of cues. Employees zipped around, avoiding bumping into each other to make it from one side wing to the other. Tenna on stage, most easy job of all to stand and host the shows, when it really was everyone else making sure everything ran perfectly more than perfect. Whatever that means when Tenna tells them how much effort to put in.

Regardless of the fast nature from the stage and stagecrew, the day was passing horrendously slow.

Too slow for what was supposedly a mid-day to late night TV marathon.

They were only a couple hours in, and already several breaks had been taken by various workers. Tapping in and out for necessary food, bathroom, or something as simple as getting a breather. The space was awfully crowded from how many people Tenna had scheduled, far too many working at once to absolutely ensure no mistakes could be made. Why have one person oversee a section as usual when you can have five? That’s plenty enough to make sure nothing goes wrong!

Except what made the day go by so achingly slow, was that Pluey wasn’t a part of the energy below. Nope. Instead, days earlier, they offered to take someone else’s shift for one of the light booths for extra pay. Only after did talk of a marathon start up, and Pluey couldn’t convince anyone else to take it.

Above it all, watching all the best of the energy happen without him. Even worse, he could see his best friends down there working without him!

Sure, thinking about it, if Pluey never took the job at all, he had no clue where he’d be put instead, but at least he’d be backstage with them right?

Even then, it seemed neither of the two were having a great time. Battat had a moment to talk to Jongler—who had the Mike shift, easiest role of the entire day— but even at that Battat seemed to be tapping his clipboard, far too obviously pointing over at anyone who pissed him off. To anyone else it looked like the bitchy stage manager was complaining to Mike about other employees.

Pluey snorted, trying to imagine how amusing it might be just to even listen to the guy complain.

Hell, Pluey’d even love to be Mike today! But Jongler didn’t have any specific jobs to take up as a Zapper, and Pluey already accepted the shift switch. But down there, to wait on the sidelines for Tenna, check in at every break possible, maybe get a few comforting chin scritches or head pats. Now that would be the ideal shift. Sides, everyone loved Mike! No matter which of them it was, everyone always loved talking to Mike. Pluey always basked in all of the attention, soaking it all in. Even if he didn’t talk or had to communicate in any way at all, never having to try, it felt nice. So comfortable with anyone, regardless of what Pluey found out or already knew about a person. Mike? Mike had knowledge! But he never judged! A shoulder to cry on not just for Tenna, but a safe space that people came to for a real conversation. Maybe even just to complain about Tenna.

Battat said he hated that Mike now had to sit through more than just Tenna, but Pluey never minded. Neither did Jongler it seemed, at least they never voiced a problem with others as their experience being Mike.

A small high pitched beep sounded, Pluey turning his attention back to the control panel, flicking the lights needed.

Thank angel they were reusing a pre-scheduled setup. Otherwise Pluey would have to pay attention to Tenna’s body language or vocal cues to know when to switch it up.

Cracking his knuckles, Pluey leans back in his seat.

It would at least be semi more interesting if this particular lights booth wasn’t a single person job. Someone else to sit with, even if chatting was minimal. 

Pluey stretched their arms out, taking a deep breath before standing up to stretch their back as well. A broken tune sounded, sighing as he leaned over the panel and looked back down to the stage, then finally back over to where he saw his friends standing previously.

Battat had moved on, directing another Shadowguy where to bring some extra supplies. Mike was missing from the scene, most likely approved by Battat seeing as Tenna was busy, although Jongler would have to hurry back sometime soon from whatever it was they left for. By now some Pippins were gathering up, eyeing up the stage, then shifting their focus onto another small group of Zappers observing the backstage. Most likely debating over some trouble and if it was worth attempting.

Another short beep, taking Pluey’s attention back once more. Eyes flicking to the stage and what lights on the control panel needed switched. Seemed to be closing up for a short break. Confirmed when the next signal shut the showtime projector lights off, and turned the main overhead standby lights on.

Tenna lingered in place a few extra seconds before leaving the platform, ensuring he didn’t leave even a single second early.

Pluey took it as his sign he could leave the lights booth to take a break of his own. See what was up next in the schedule and grab a drink. It’d be a great excuse to see Battat backstage as well.

Slipping between other overhead stage crew members, waving to a particular few Pluey got along just fine with, and heading down. Barely looking at faces, Pluey mostly skimmed for his favorite shade of green. Only one of the best colors in TV World that stood out so well seeing as one of his two favorite people wears it constantly.

Almost bumped into Tenna rounding a corner but quickly stepped back, allowing him to pass by first as he blabbed on with Mike who returned already. Jongler looked back enough to give a wave before continuing to follow Tenna.

Pluey reciprocated, spotting Battat as Tenna finished passing by with Mike. Hunched over himself even while standing, scribbling away on a clipboard. Usually consisted of Battat’s normal work plus notes he took for himself.

Weaving between various groups, he eventually made it over, making sure to approach at an angle enough where he wasn’t walking up behind him. At least an angle enough where Battat would look up first upon someone approaching.

“Hey. Need something?” Battat greets. Short, direct, glancing up enough to get a take on who he was talking to.

“How is it going?” Pluey smiles, tilting his head to see what Battat was working on.

From the looks of it, Battat had crossed off the show segment that was just completed, now adding various small notes about the backstage crew and overall management. Stopping as he had to take time to talk with Pluey properly, shifting the clipboard under an arm to look over.

“Surprisingly smooth, but to be fair I’m working with two other managers that have more respect than me. People are doing tap outs down here for work when they need breaks. I’ve seen a few take their breaks just sitting and watching, but tap out when another needs it? It’s actually a good process.. I asked the other managers and they didn’t set it up, so I guess it’s self started?” Battat rambled on slightly, glancing around the room as he watched everyone move about. “..Eh, good in short. How’s it up in that booth?”

“Boring,” Pluey huffs as he signs.. “Was going to grab a drink. How long is break? Do you want to come with?”

“I had someone run and grab me one in the middle of the show, so I’m okay. Break’s about fifteen minutes so at least you don’t have to rush though.” Battat says, “According to our Mike, Tenna’s doing great. He looks great up there too! Better than usual!”

“I haven’t been watching him too closely.”

“You better be paying attention. I think you’re lucky to even be up there and not down here.” Battat poked his pen against Pluey’s side. “You’re working with the good lights that Tenna cut our pay to afford. Suck it all in for me while you’re up there. I can’t stand it down here.”

Pluey tapped the pen away, amused. “I’m watching everything play out, just not only him.”

“Well watch out, yeah? This next segment is new, and we don’t have that cue system set up for this one yet.” He pulled the clipboard back from under his arm to show what was up next in the schedule lineup. “You already know everything manual cue wise, so unlike some others, you won’t screw this up.”

“Thanks?” Pluey grins, knowing it was some form of an indirect compliment. “Bet me something real quick.”

Battat lets out a short huff, not quite a laugh. “Bet what?”

“How about your third of the check we get?”

Battat thinned his eyes despite looking fully invested. “Okay.. and how are you wanting to settle that? Do you even need two thirds of that check?”

“No.” Pluey grins. “Rock, Paper, Scissors?”

Battat was already making sure the clipboard was secure in between his arm and body, double checking that his pen was safe before readying his hands. “Yeah why not. One of one, final say.”

Pluey readied his, allowing Battat to count down before they both played.

Pluey scissors, Battat rock.

“HAH! I win!” Battat beamed, pointing up at Pluey directly.

“Good enrichment, right?” Pluey only smiled back. Funny that something so simple got Battat to react the way he did.

Battat grabbed his clipboard into both hands again, lifting halfway to his face. “Enrichm—What the hell are you on about now.”

“Enrichment for my favorite Pippins.”

Battat half glared, eyes thinning. “Don’t make me hit you.”

Pluey motioned for Battat to calm down, an ‘easy there’ with both hands which caused Battat to roll his eyes, turning to check the time before sucking in a sharp breath.

“Ten left— Listen, I’ll see ya next break, ‘kay? I gotta go consult some of the other Pippins that did absolutely nothing despite being listed to work today. Go get your drink and hurry back!” Battat waited an extra moment, ensuring Pluey had nothing left to say before he waved and rushed off.

Pluey stayed in place, watching Battat scan who all was still backstage, then rush to catch another person to talk to before they left. By the time the other seemed to start replying, Pluey had popped his knuckles, pressing his hands together as he turned to leave.

A drink vending machine wasn’t far, down a few short halls and Pluey had put in some points for some water. Taking a few sips right then and there while conversation passed through the hall. Snippets of information, who got caught doing what, some Pluey knew of already, some names he recognized, other incidents he didn’t hear of quite yet. Supposedly some Pippins knocked mop water all over a Zapper  claiming they tripped, but it seemed more on purpose if anything.

Pluey leaned back, sighing as he took another sip.

A cigarette sounds great right about now.

He screwed the cap back on, setting his drink on the vending machine as he rummaged his pockets. Searching until he found the pack that felt like there were definitely a few inside when shaken around.

Pluey stood up properly and headed off for one of the nearby side doors. Unguarded as he clicked the push bar open. Bitter cold nipping his hands and face immediately before he even stepped out. Snowflakes flurried into the studio’s hall, Pluey knowing better than to stand in the doorway this time.

Snow crunching as he stepped out, Pluey glanced back to make sure his tail wouldn’t get caught as the door clicked shut. Opening the small pack up, he picked one of the three remaining out. Grabbing his lighter once the pack was placed safely into his pocket once more.

The chill was nearly enough to make Pluey want to go back in and smoke in a supply closet, the fur around his ears and tail bristling as he turned to face the wall to hide from the wind. Tugging his coat up around his neck more, Pluey began to get his cigarette and lighter situated. Hand cupped, the other flicking the lighter, convincing it to catch after half a dozen attempts. Hoping the wind alone wouldn’t put the flame out or stop it from catching all the way.

Remaining in place for only a few minutes, he practically sucked it down due to the awareness that break would be over in only a couple minutes. Sighing, Pluey shoved the bud against the wall, effectively putting it out before putting the remaining filter back into the box.

Pluey stepped back, reaching to pull the door open—

Ka-klunk.

Huh.

Pluey tried again.

Ka-klunk.

Well, that wasn't good.

The door wasn’t opening.

___

"I'm not saying you have to do anything for even the whole marathon!" Battat had caught up with one of the last few people he had to speak to. The other sitting, leaned back atop a crate of props. The Pippins stared at Battat as if he lost his mind. "I'm just saying, tap in for an hour, you won't get marked. Others are doing it just fine, even if they work more than an hour."

"It's my job, how can you even tell I didn't already?" The other Pippins had their arms crossed as they leaned back.

Battat tapped his fingers along his clipboard as he spoke, so far not too impressed by everyone’s attitudes today. "I've been here longer than everyone today, I have a list of expectations for each person. I get that Tenna asks for a lot, so I think if everyone works for at least one hour, it'd be fair."

"Half of us aren't even needed."

"Listen, it's not my rules—"

"You know what you are?” The Pippins slid off the crate they sat on, pointing at Battat. “A cable rider." Turning as they spoke, walking away.

Battat sputtered, "I— You—! I'm the stage manager!" He watched the other get a few extra feet away. "What's the point of staying backstage to do nothing?!" He called out after them, groaning as the other only continued to walk away. Battat flipped a couple pages on his clipboard to find the employee list, drawing an exclamation point next to that particular Pippins' name. A small reminder to keep watch.

At least the previous Darkner he spoke to had shared their plans to step back into work when the commercial break ended.

Battat turned his head as he flipped back to the first page, checking the stage where the background was getting switched accordingly. Stage swap out employees careful with the background and props needed, passing along the previous set to get put aside safely. At least enough people were focused enough to do what was required.

"No no no!"

Tenna marched from the side entry straight back onto the stage, already back. "You're loading it all wrong!"

Great, another thing for Tenna to nitpick over. They're not even done setting up, oaf.

"Ey Boss, er, Batts— m-manager—?"

Jongler Mike stood behind him, attempting to get his attention in a somewhat natural way.

Battat rolls his eyes, tucking the clipboard under his arm once more as he faces ‘Mike.’ "You keep talking to me."

"Yeah, got yous a drink." They held out one of those lidded throw away cups, a rather nice thought.

"You don't have to. I have someone out grabbing me one." Battat dismissed lightly.

"Wata's good for ya' too."

"Yeah yeah, I'll take it, now shoo,” Battat grumbles. “Haven't you had enough of me?" Battat took the cup, sipping from it already.

"..No… Not really."

"Tend to Tenna!" Battat motions, hushing himself down before he continues. "I'd kill to be in your position right now. Take advantage that you practically got nothin' going on."

"I didn't even wanna be Mike today.." Mike mumbles.

"Shut it!! Listen, maybe I'll make it up to you in some way later or something."

"Well yeahs, but I can't talk ta' yous about the schedule n' stuff?"

"We already went over that."

"I can't stand bein' alone like dis.. it's awfully crowded."

"You're not some lost child! The fuller, the more witnesses to see us keep talking." Battat motions around them as he held the cup.

"But Mike's— I.... a friendly guy...?" Mike put out both hands, too unsure of themselves.

"Not to me! It's why I—" Battat paused when he overheard one of the other stage managers calling time. "Okay, we'll talk about this more later or something. Go where you need to be, I have more stuff to handle. Thanks for the water, get going!"

"Okay, okay," Mike sighs, letting Battat be the first to turn and rush off.

Partway through yelling orders, another Shadowguy came over, offering Battat's coffee he requested earlier.

"Shit, okay, y'know what. Place that and this cup along the right wing wall for me." Battat held the other cup out for the other to take. Sifting in his pockets afterwards, getting a handful of points to hand over as well. "For your trouble or something, thanks again." Already rushing past as soon as he deemed the interaction over.

Everyone in action or getting there, check. Tenna getting last second touch ups on stage, check. Lights in position for the next segment, check. So far everything was perfect, and would continue to go exactly as planned.

Battat switched channels over the radio to give the greenlight to his fellow stage managers on set, then back to Tenna's mic. He always listened in for the cues, observed who was assigned what job, and if anything needed changed. He's personally worked nearly every job firsthand to fill in, so giving pointers or tips wasn't anything new.

Listening along, continuing to take note of anything important, flipping a couple pages forward through the planned segment to find where the next break would be. Humming along, Tenna's voice stopped for a couple seconds too long.

Flipping the pages back down, Battat raised a brow as he glanced towards the stage. Tenna repeating his previous sentence.

"...Just like I always say..!!"

...Nothing.

The pause lingered.

Tenna held this strained smile, the tilt of his screen looked to the backstage stage wing that Mike was on, who just stared back, motioning for Tenna to stay calm.

Clearly Jongler wasn't going to say or do anything.

Battat turned, walking away to a far empty area briefly as he turned his Mike channel on to speak to Tenna with his Mike voice.

"Skip tha' sentence big guy, gonna figure out what's up and talk to a stage manager." Turning his mic back off, flipping it up as he walked to his cups set on the floor.

Luckily Tenna listened, moving on rather quickly, fumbling for a few seconds before getting right back into the flow

What just happened?

Battat took a few gulps of the water, setting it back down before turning to head towards Mike himself. Changing his radio channel to the other stage managers who were mid-discussing the mix up already. "Someone send an employee to go check on the new light booth guy. Mike radioed me over to figure out what happened."

Chances were at worst that Pluey mixed up the buttons and didn't want to mess up, accidentally letting the moment pass. An accident like that to Tenna though? This wasn't going to be too pretty, the best Battat could do is figure out how to soften that blow.

"Yeah we're sending a Zapper." One of the other stage managers responded.

"Just spoke to one." The second replied.

Battat didn't bother radioing back, muting once again as he approached Mike.

“What was that?” Jongler questioned before Battat was even fully stopped, antsy.

Battat shook his head, sighing. "Pluey's first time in the booth. Probably some screw up. A Zapper's on their way up to see, not that they'll be any help."

"Ey!" Mike snapped, no real bite behind it.

"What?” Battat scoffs. “Zappers don't do anything besides security work, how would a Zapper know what to do to help if Pluey messed up or needed advice?"

"Yous talkin' nonsense. A good amount of 'em are plenty smart when given tha' chance!"

Okay, a little heated.

Battat motions for them to tone it down. "Okay! I get it. Maybe the one sent can help."

Jongler shrugs, turning away as they cross their arms. "....If I's were free I'd help just fine." Half mumbled.

Battat thins his eyes, tilting his head to the side. "...Are you pouting at me?"

"'M jus' sayin' I'd help 'im jus' fine."

"Yeah, okay." Battat rolls his eyes, flicking his mic back down as he holds a finger up to them, unmuting. "Any news? The guy lost or what."

"Yeah. Whoever's supposed to be there, isn't." One of the other stage managers replied.

"What?"

"Whoever was assigned to work the booth isn't there, it's empty." They repeated.

Battat frowns, biting his inner cheek as he shifts to stare at the floor, turning away from Mike. "I.. Ah. Okay. Grab another worker who knows that thing up there, someone who's job can be left as is."

Jongler shuffled over, leaning to enter Battat's vision again. "What? What's goin' on?"

Battat waved his hand, turning away more fully as he listened.

"Yeah we'll see who we can pull as soon as possible. Tenna's not going to miss that slip up though." The other stage manager replied on the line. 

"Definitely not when commercial break hits," The second one sighs.

“Well Mike says they’re gonna handle it, get the job replaced and keep things rolling. When the guy shows up, I’ll talk to him before passing him onto Mike. Switching channels.” Waiting no time at all before muting and sliding the headset down around his neck. “Sorry ‘bout that. And yeah, awesome. Pluey’s taking a shit or something.” Already looking back at Jongler.

“Wh— I? Okay?”

“If he’s not back I’ll call him in… Uhh.. What, what do you think?” Battat began to pull his phone out, finding the timer.

Jongler became visibly confused, tensing as they were put on the spot. “What? Think what.”

“How much time until I call him.” Battat waved his phone.

“Oh! Oh! Ah! Uhh.. five?”

“Five what.”

“Oh, I dunno Batts, how ‘bout five hours. No! Five minutes!”

Battat smirked, scrolling to set a five minute timer. “No you probably meant like five days.”

“If yous ain’t careful I’m gonna give you a real good shakin’.” Jongler crossed their arms again, more intimidating than before.

“Is that supposed to be a threat?” Battat made sure his phone was on vibrate, pocketed once more.

“Yeah.”

“Oh how terrifyingly fun.”

“Yous the single most infuriating guy I’ve eva’ met.”

“I grace you with my presence every day.” Battat stepped back, motioning his hands out to his sides. “I’ll buy you a coffee, or a drink. Whatever you want.”

Jongler groans, rubbing a hand across their face before sighing. “Get away from me.”

“Says the one who wouldn’t stop buggin’ me first!” Battat chuckled as he pulled the headset back up, walking away. Glancing up towards the booth, a few Darkners seemed to be gathered inside, either figuring out who should stay or how the new light system worked.

Battat made it over to one of the other stage managers, occupied watching as well it seemed.

“Hey. They figured it out?”

“Yeah.” They didn’t break eye contact from watching. “We’re also ready to go send someone to find the other guy. List says Pluey?”

Battat flipped through the pages on his clipboard as if checking to even confirm he knew. “Yep. Talked to him when break started. Headed out for a drink. I could go if you two are fine watching things.”

“Yeah whatever, if you know where he is just grab him— Okay, does it look like any of those guys up there know what they’re doing?”

Battat glanced back over.

The group got larger, all talking over each other.

“...You should figure that out.” Battat says, looking back over.

“On it,” The other sighs, already heading off as they waved at Battat. “Find the one guy, get him back up there!”

Battat just gave a thumbs up, watching the other walk away to get to the upper loft above the stage.

Squeezing past some groups, Battat stepped out quietly, keeping his headset on in case anyone would need him. Walking through the halls wouldn’t hurt. Hell, it was more empty out compared to backstage right now. Best bet, he heads out and sees Pluey rushing back! Glancing around the halls along the way, he finally made it to the closest vending machine he knew of.

Didn’t figure Pluey would still be here of course, it’d be rather silly, but so far he hadn’t seen the guy anywhere along the way.

Battat got his phone out again, a popup weather advisory warning for a snow storm. Battat swiped the details away, not reading anything beyond severe before pulling up Pluey’s number, typing out a text. More proper than his usual ones.

[Hey, Tenna’s pissed, hurry up whatever it is you’re doing.]

Sent.

Waiting a few seconds before typing another.

[I’m in the hall at one of the drink stations you probably went to, sent to look for you.]

Battat leaned against the machine, huffing as he clicked his phone off, watching the screen go black. Angel, he looked awful.. Thought he had been sleeping better lately.

Battat shifted the clipboard down, as low as possible before tossing unceremoniously onto the ground, pages flapping but remaining in place. Using his now free hand to pull at his eye bags. Dark, slightly puffy… No wonder his friends thought he was miserable most days and checked in with him.

Battat was ready to pocket his phone again when he squinted at the dark reflection.

Standing up and turning, someone had left their drink atop the vending machine. Not very much had been drunk from it either, barely considered a fourth. Not like Battat was going to grab someone else’ drink to throw it away though, not his. Unless it was left with the intention for the person to come back.

“Someone better explain what happened just now!”

Tenna’s voice pierced through the headset’s stage manager radio, Battat flinching hard as he picked the clipboard back up. Pace much more urgent heading back compared to his leisurely walk out.

“—Me when I tell you! One's replacing the employee right now, the others’ looking for the original-!” Tenna and the other stage manager on set were talking, the furthest point from the stage along the wall. Only a couple feet from where Battat was entering back inside. “See! There's the other guy right now!” Of course, redirecting Tenna's attention onto Battat.

“Couldn't find him, I'm about to call him right now.” Battat reassures as he walked over, entering the conversation. “Is there something else we can do Tenna? Mike's already been giving me orders on how to look for the guy.”

“At least someone's doing their job around here!” Tenna growls. “You guys are stage managers. For all three of you to be back here right now, tell me what that means!”

Battat just turned and looked at the other guy, who looked back at him shrugging.

“You're here to do more rounds than usual! More rounds than a single manager would do! To pay better attention! This is a family marathon! And that right there, what happened back there is enough to ruin me! Us! The studio! Don't you even think about the consequences of what it may look like?!”

“Okay, Tenna, we've got things under control—”

“Clearly not!”

For fucks sake where is Jongler and why isn't Tenna boo hoo-ing to Mike.

Speak of the devil, Mike gently grabbed Tenna’s arm, redirecting his attention onto themself. “Tenna. Let's go to your dressin’ room. Let tha’ two up stage do their weatherin’ bit and let yous cool on down, yeah?”

Tenna didn't glance back to Mike just yet, recollecting himself silently before leaning down. A finger— Ah, no, claw, poking Battat's forehead. “If Mike told you to find whoever it is that messed up, you better find them Dice Boy.” With that, he turned and left. Waiting for Mike to open the backstage door, and disappearing into the hall.

Fuck.

Battat was definitely going to replay that in his head later tonight.

“...Eughh.. Nice knowing you, I wanna step out for fifteen, that fine?”

Battat groans, waving a hand. “Yeah, do whatever. I'm stepping out again to make a call.” Battat dug for his phone again, this time setting his clipboard down along the wall side to leave it.

“Good luck man.” They gave a thumbs up, walking the opposite direction as Battat pulled the backstage door open to step out once more.

Pulling out his phone, Battat went back to Pluey's contact. Texts not yet seen.

The fuck was he even doing.

Walking over a few feet, Battat leaned back, pressing call as he waited.

Ringing… ringing…

Each one he had to shake off his nerves building up.

Then voicemail.

“Answer your phone.” Battat says, hitting the end call button directly after.

He could check the Mike room… But there really was no reason for Pluey to go there.

Standing back up properly, Battat reentered backstage and went up to the booth where he saw the other on floor manager from before.

“Hey,” he says, climbing through.

“Hey, what's up.” The other greeted, going over the light cue system instructions with another pippin.

“I might rewalk some halls. The other guy wanted a fifteen, are you fine?”

“Yeah I think so. Weather couple is about to finish their segment, so I'm about to call commercial.”

“Okay, get me if you need anything.”

“Yeppers.”

Battat turned to head back out when something else caught his eye.

Pluey's phone. Same familiar case with cat stickers. The reason why Battat decided Mike needed a designated phone rather than using their personal ones.

Without another word, Battat reached across the booth desk, snatching it before leaving. Not that the other two had anything to say to Battat about it, letting him do as he pleased.

As soon as Tenna was back on stage, he needed to talk to Jongler.

___

The wind hadn’t stopped, no signs of letting up either. Every time it got a little more adaptable, another gust would blow.

Pulling the door harder obviously wasn’t working, neither was hitting with intent to get anyone’s attention.

He had fumbled with his pockets, emptying out everything he had on his person. Cigarette box, lighter, chewing gum, loose points, but nothing of use.

Pluey pulled his hands further into his sleeves, facing the door as he stood close, attempting to shield most of himself from the wind. It had reasonably only been a couple of minutes, but a couple minutes too long.

Pluey shuffled in place, feet kicking out snow as he grasped the handle once more to twist and tug. Inhaling sharply before yelling out.

“♪♬—!”

A symphony of broken, out of tune notes. A desperate measure for anyone to hear him from outside. Cut off from a rather harsh gust of wind.

Coughing, Plueys’s shoulder hunch as he brings his hands back to himself.

Breathing hurt, his fingers hurt, his face hurt. A deep ache as he cupped his hands together, bringing them up to blow his breath onto them to keep the hot air at his face. The rest of his body wrackled this deep shudder, fur on edge as he trembled in place harshly.

He had to do something to get back inside.

He wasn’t too familiar with the outside pathing, but he knew the garbage takeout route from the inside door through the halls. Where that doorway might be from here if he followed the parameter.

Another one had to be open.

He just had to get there.

___

Another popup snow storm weather advisory warning as soon as Battat clicked the power button on Pluey’s phone. Pressing [OK] as it went to Pluey’s lockscreen, a selfie of Pluey and Jongler, the background Battat didn’t recognize. Swiping, there was no password protection, just opening straight into the homescreen. A few new notifications, but all from Battat within the last hour.

Sighing, Battat clicked the phone back off and pocketed it, standing by his long abandoned cup of coffee he really didn’t feel like drinking at the moment. Something in his stomach twisted, but only because he hadn’t eaten yet today, so coffee was going to make it worse. That was the reason, nothing else.

Battat watched how Elnina and Lanino wrapped up their weather segment, commercial commencing. Employees shuffled around to prepare for Tenna’s return without having to change much on stage.

Pulling out his own phone, Battat went to text the Mike group chat.

[We need to talk when Tenna’s back on. I found Pluey’s phone left behind in the booth.]

Not that he expected an immediate response. Angel only knows what Jongler was dealing with right now over in Tenna’s dressing room.

Pluey was a good worker. Efficient. Quick. Battat never had to get on the guy's case for slacking, it didn't matter when he saw Pluey napping during work hours if he really wasn’t on any shifts during that particular time. Pluey always did various different jobs, picking up what others couldn't or didn’t want to do.

Pluey wouldn’t be late or leave his phone anywhere. It wouldn’t make sense if Pluey skipped a shift hiding either.

Battat shifted, checking his phone again for the time. It was another commercial break now, and he saw Pluey during the last one. Sighing, Battat was ready to put his phone back away when it buzzed.

Yet another snow storm weather advisory.

He already got this earlier.

Huffing, he pressed okay, and checked if Jongler even read the text.

Headset crackling, a general announcement came through.

“We’re back in five.”

The other stage manager’s message across all radio’s to the rest of the staff.

Battat slid his headset off, resting around his neck as he pocketed his phone once more, starting to rub both hands across his face.

Why did this feel so complicated?

Straightening up, Battat turned to step into the hall. Not completely empty this time, other Darkners either passing by or returning, a small group working together to move supplies out back to storage.

Pluey.

Pluey, Pluey, Pluey.

Where would this guy go.

If he needed a moment, the Mike room made most sense.

Disregarding how good of a worker he was, or why Pluey left things things left behind, where were Pluey’s top spots?

Just.. The Mike room?

Battat never found Pluey lounging anywhere else, but he was sure Pluey had other spaces. Times when Pluey would be gone for a while before returning seemingly out of nowhere. Battat would barely notice Pluey would leave in the first place before realizing the guy was back.

Tenna walked past, right backstage once more. Just the tilt of his head gave way that he side eyed Battat whilst passing.

Mike was about to follow when Battat lurched forward, grasping their arm to stop them from entering backstage.

“Woah— Hey, what’s uh, happenin’?” They turned to face Battat, glancing down to his hand when their arm wasn’t released.

“Pluey left his phone.”

“..What?”

“I called him, texted, but I have his phone.”

Mike stared, shifting in place as they silently debated on how to respond. Too slow by the time Battat chose to continue.

“You have to do a lost and found announcement.”

Jongler hushes down, barely glancing around at their coworkers in the hall. “What’s dat gonna do?”

“If you do some announcement before we’re live again, Pluey might come or something—”

“Wouldn’t he already be here—”

“Announce the lost phone Jongler! I don’t care! You’re Mike, do it. Take it. I’m going to the room to see if he’s there. I really don’t know where the hell else he could be, and I honestly don’t want my head on the line over this!” Battat reached back into his poncho pockets, shoving Pluey’s phone over into Jongler’s hands, forcing them to properly hold it.

Jongler moved, grasping Battat’s shoulders, shaking softly as one of their hands kept hold on the phone. “Get a’holda yer’self! Breathe! Tenna ain’t gonna do nothin to any’a us. Slap on tha’ wrist at most. Why’re you stressin’ so much?”

Pluey doesn’t do this.

Even the employees who don’t want to work hang around a while.

Nothing about this feels natural.

Why can’t you feel it too?

“I don’t know,” Battat muttered out, a hand brushing off Jongler’s hold, released at the gesture that didn’t force them off in the first place.

“M’ gonna make the announcement soon, okay? Go check and let me know if somethin’ changes. Just don’t get caught up in somethin’ and leave me wonderin’, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Battat inhales. “Yeah,” He sighs, turning. “I’ll let you know.”

“..Yous gonna be okay? Should I tell Tenna dat Mike needs to do somethin’?”

“No, no, you’re fine. Tenna’s upset. Tend to him, watch the show. Make sure it runs smoothly.”

“...Absolutely sure?”

Battat nods, waving a hand. “I’ll be quick. Go get the show going.”

Jongler nods back slowly, watching Battat be the first to part from their interaction.

Weaving between only a few others before Battat got to clear halls, walking further away from the stage room. He must really sound ridiculous if Jongler told him to calm down. They were right, most Tenna would do is some minor punishment. Battat was going to walk in, and find Pluey napping with the intention to doze for five minutes then to have returned long ago. Punch Pluey’s arm, walk Pluey back in shame, and get Mike to tell Tenna they’ll settle what happens to the employee so he wouldn’t have to worry about it personally.

That easy.

After a quick scan of the hall, Battat slipped inside the Mike room, closing the door as he then scanned the room.

Absolutely nothing was different.

Everything was left exactly as it was this morning. No signs of anything disturbed, no signs that Pluey had come by at any point at all.

Especially no Pluey.

Battat lifted his headset back on, switching channels to Mike.

“Make the announcement for all frequencies. He’s not here.”

“Got it Boss.”

Muting, Battat’s eyes drift throughout the room, a double take on it all. Both his own and Pluey’s Mike costumes were left in the room today, at least folded in their proper places rather than tossed onto the floor like usual.

Mike always had stupid access to anything. More than any other employee just because he was a favorite of Tenna's. Even Zappers or jobs like Battat's stage manager spot couldn't get clearances for places Mike was given on day one returning.

Walking over, Battat combed the hair of his fake Mike head back into place using his fingers.

It was useful, being able to dig through everything Tenna usually kept hidden. All the little secrets, how Tenna keeps track of everything, even though realistically none of it had any value to Battat. Finding Mike through Tenna’s systems was never successful either. Traces of previous existence, but nothing on where Mike may have originated, or may have gone. Maybe he was just too late.

…Although, there were cameras in the halls. Never really used, but some halls were monitored more highly than others. If Battat couldn't reach Pluey over the phone, he sure as hell could track him down through the cameras.

At this rate Battat figured searching camera feed wasn't too far out of reach. He had his own reasons, Pluey was a Mike necessity! All of them had to be constantly accessible to each other! That, and good enough reason that Tenna and Mike told him to track Pluey down over work. Plenty enough reasons to put this much effort in, very reasonable.

His headset crackled, open to receiving contact-

A one tone alarm came through, blaring as Battat instinctually reached up, ripping the headset off. Faintly the alarm only continued, the exact alarm that would typically sound for weather alerts.

Just a couple more seconds, the blaring ceased. Hesitantly raising back to himself did Battat catch the crackling of the transmission ending. Strangely enough no words, no vocal warnings, just the sound. Which already on its own shouldn't have an announcement program on the radio systems.

Battat turned his mic back on, double checking that he was on the correct channel.

“The fuck was that?”

“What's you's talkin’ ‘bout.” Jongler replied from the Mike channel.

“That alarm? I didn't hear your announcement.”

“Uhh… just made it.”

Battat changed channels, back to the other stage managers. “Hey, double checking that Mike's announcement came through clear?”

“Yep.”

“Clear on my end.”

Groaning, Battat switched back.

“Okay, whatever. Ignore me. Room’s clear. Is it too much to track Pluey via security footage?”

“Uhh.. well, if he ain’t showin’ up, then dat’s a good way to find ‘im.”

“Maybe you stay there to wait, also keep Tenna from leaving if he needs anything. I’m gonna double as Mike to run up to Tenna’s office to check.”

“Double as Mike?”

“Mike’s the only guy that has clearance to enter that room without being explicitly invited. Sides, it’s easier for people to accept Mike doing whatever even if it looks suspicious. We just can’t cross paths. Thinking if I spot Pluey, I’ll throw mine back off and let you know.”

“Sounds good. I’ll let ya know if he shows up here too.”

“Cool.”

“‘Kay, Tenna’s back up. Be quick.”

Battat muted once more, turning towards his Mike suit.

___

The wind hadn’t made any difference.

Each step was just as blinding and as bone chilling as the last. Pluey stumbled a couple of times pushing through piles of snow along the walls, but he mainly used his hand to guide him forwards. Shuffling forward and bracing himself against the wall as his other hand remained held up, attempting to block snow from blowing into his vision.

Faltering, Pluey leaned against the wall. Bringing both hands up to rub across his face, clearing any snow that stuck to his skin once more. A cold wetness mixing with a slightly warmer smear.

Pluey squinted, pulling his hands back. No obvious difference as the wind blew more snow up and across his hands, quickly melting away. Another gust more harshly, a fleck dripped down into the snow. Dark, wet, staining against the white that was already building up over it. Another drip replacing its mark a few inches off. The ache from earlier had subsided, no visual difference that Pluey could tell, nor could he feel much of a difference on his hands.

His weight shifted, stumbling as another gust blew, leaning to place his forearm against the wall.

It couldn’t be much further.

Even if he couldn’t see as far as he wanted to.

He had to be getting there.

Gradually he lowered, placing a hand down into the snow, watching dark splotches slowly smudge around where his fingers rested.

Why was everything starting to feel so warm?

___

Not quite a jog, but brisk enough to strain the body in his Mike attire, Battat beelines it for Tenna's office. Everything valuable, important, or anything remotely useful kept inside or within the vicinity of what Tenna thought was hidden areas of the studio instead.

Find the cameras, review some footage.

He's done this plenty of times! Easy as cake! Easy peasy! He'd even say lemon squeezey!

It was a simple in and out. Sides, it helped that the majority of studio employees were working in a general area. No one to run into, no one to ask Mike for help, no one to spot Mike doing something that might seem even remotely suspicious!

Rounding the corner, Battat glanced behind himself, straining further to see properly. Looking back in time to stop right before bumping into a Zapper put on security duty for Tenna’s office.

“Ah, sorry pal, ‘dis place offa—”

“No, no! All good!” Already reaching out, dusting the Zapper off despite being well aware he didn't make contact. “I should be the one apologizing, didn’t bump ya right?” Barely waiting for any sort of response when he continued on, working his way around the Zapper. “Tenna’s been so focused today, eh? Well, more to say uptight! So focused on just the Marathon he can barely keep himself in check! Good thing I’m here, just doing a little errand run, grabbin’ up somethin’ he forgot! I’ll be super quick so I don’t bother ya’ long, yeah?” Mike spoke the entire time while he slipped by, a playful nudge as he reached for the handle, pushing the door open. Every time the Zapper attempted to get a word in, Mike continued. Barely waiting a beat before he stepped inside the office. “Great! Less than five! Cya!”

Closing the door behind himself, Battat let out a breath. Exerting all that energy when he didn't have it in the first place was probably in the top three cons of being Mike.

Battat locked the office door just to be sure he'd be alone before lifting the Mike head off from himself. Past Tenna's desk, leaving the mask aside, he started opening up the cabinet that held the security system inside.

It's not like the cameras needed to be monitored constantly anyways, just kept somewhere safe and accessible in case anything did need to be checked.

Finding the controls, Battat flicked the screen through a few different cameras. Live feed, he'd have to figure out how to review footage again, but for now he was mentally checking which cam went to which hall.

It was a bit of play, finding the camera directly outside the backstage doors, which halls followed. Some cameras skipped commonly watched places that already had Zappers stationed on the regular.

He could see a Pippin and some Zapper goofing off at another entry currently, none of his business.

Battat returned to the hall right outside the stage, finding previous footage for the day. Rewinding back till he recognized Pluey enough. The quality wasn't too good, but he figured the time stamp matched up around the commercial break he saw Pluey last. At an angle he could even see himself through the backstage doors before it closed behind the Shadowguy he had zeroed in on.

Switching cameras and rewinding footage to match the timestamp was always tricky. A back and forth each time he had to spot Pluey. Watch him leave the frame into a new camera angle to switch to, rewind, spot him again, and so on.

All up until he watched where Pluey stopped, got his drink, and stood there for a couple of minutes in silence. Shuffling in place foot to foot before setting aside his drink to check his pockets. A quick glance around before heading off further down the hall.

After switching just once, the cameras didn't follow. But if Battat was right on that particular location.. it should be a dead end. Not even particularly anything interesting that he knew of.

Speeding the time back up, Pluey didn't walk back through the hall to return. He sped the footage up right until it clicked into live streaming once more. No one else had entered the frame once into that hall ever since Pluey walked through.

Battat stretched, the rest of his Mike suit restraining him uncomfortably.

Did Pluey know another area? Another room? Maybe at most there was a supply closet along that path but…

As many times as Battat thought it before, Pluey was anything but a work slacker.

Returning the system controls to how they were, Battat closed the cabinet and grabbed the Mike head to put back on. Leaving Tenna's office without a word to the Zapper, he gave barely any recognition beside a wave.

The Mike suit went back into its proper place before Battat started heading back towards the backstage hallway once more.

The entire situation shouldn't be happening first of all, the fact that it is makes Battat want to choke Pluey out, not to mention how much more confusing it got the more Battat tried.

“Boss!”

Jongler called out, standing in the doorway of the backstage entry. Half open to keep watch for Tenna or Battat, whoever seemed to be the priority on keeping inside or checking in with upon spotting either of the two. Stepping out and closing the doors when Battat got close enough.

“Where is he?”

“On my way there,” Battat sighs, stopping by them. “The camera he was last seen in doesn't go all the way since it's some dead end if I remember correctly. Passing through here to get to it now.”

“Dead end?”

“Yeah. From here you head straight, turn left then further straight where the drinks vending is.”

“Where I got ya's water.”

“Sure, then past that, all the way down to this dead area.”

Jongler pauses, thinking. “Mm.. doesn't ring any bells.”

“No? You know where I'm talking about though right?”

“Yeahs, but I don't knows of any rooms dat way.”

“Then why the fuck is there an extra…” Battat stared further down, frowning. “..Hall….” Facing down the direction where Pluey had been last seen heading down, the only next reasonable explanation clicked. “Oh— Fuck. Fuck!”

“What? Batts-!”

Shoving past, Battat sprinted down the hall. Ignoring Jongler as they called after him.

Pluey couldn’t have.

“Fuckin’ hell! Watch out!”

It wasn’t wrong to think he would though.

“Woah, what’s got you rushing?”

And if Pluey didn’t suspect it…

Battat pushed open the door, a gust of wind making Battat instinctively take a step back. Raising an arm to shield snowflakes from getting into his eyes.

Piles of snow, pushed out only as easy as it was due to being freshly fallen. Light from inside the studio reflecting only so far. It was dark, but if Battat squinted enough, he could see out a good amount…

“Pluey!” Battat calls, stepping out as far as he could whilst keeping the door open. The wind alone drowned his voice out, swallowing out the noise even to himself. No matter what direction he looked out towards it was nothing but emptiness.

Battat inhaled the sharp air, fighting the urge to cough before yelling again. “PLUEY!” Even when straining to listen, there was just the neverending whistle of wind. Choosing a direction, he let go of the door, walking out. Stepping over mounds of snow, it was just as easy to watch his foot disappear every time he stepped back down.

Poncho flapping, Battat raised his hands, cupping around his mouth to call out again. “PLUEY!!” Wasting no time at all to wipe away the snow building up against his face, chest burning.

He could barely hear himself this far out.

Turning back there was no light. No tell on how far he had traveled from the hallway exit where the door had closed behind him.

“♪♬”

Forward again, Battat squinted.

…Pluey?

“♪♬”

Regardless of what Battat said, the only sign he spoke at all was the vibrations he felt from his burning throat.

“♪♬”

Distant, but bright. Enough to see at a distance even in the snow.

The familiar pink and yellow from Pluey’s Mike suit, reflecting as it stared in Battat’s direction.

Tumbling forward, Battat pushed through the snow, tripping onto the ground. Snow sticking to his clothes, he pushed himself back up, attempting to call out again. “Pluey! I’m here!” Back up, the eyes were gone. A breath forcefully heaving out of his chest in pain, ready to call again when the yell in return only repeated.

“♪♬”

Closer.

Repeating every couple of minutes, Battat only heads farther and farther following its cries.

Ready to stop to attempt to recollect himself, he spotted it.

A dark mass laying against the building wall, not completely covered but small piles of snow building up.

“Pluey!”

Battat let himself stumble to the ground as soon as he forced his way over, tugging his Shadowguy to face him.

“Pluey, Pluey get up, let’s get inside okay? I’m here—”

He could slip an arm under, but trying to stand and lift at the same time, Battat couldn’t do it.

“Pluey get up! Help me!”

Only there wasn’t any movement. Not enough to count towards it.

Shifting, Battat pulled back enough to cup his hands on both sides of Pluey’s cheeks, forcing the other to face him.

“Look at me, look at me—” Eyes searching for any resemblance that a Shadowguy without eyes can even be looking at him right now.

Letting go after a few moments, Battat leaned back enough to lift his poncho over himself, various items falling from the pockets inside as he pushed the extra layer over Pluey. Only then did Battat feel it, Pluey’s hand grasping his forearm right as he was trying to block the wind from hitting Pluey further.

“Pluey—! Fuck, you have to get up— We have to get inside—”

“♪”

If it wasn’t for how broken the note sounded, turning high pitched halfway through, Battat wasn’t sure if he would’ve heard it at all.

“I— I don’t—”

Battat turned, looking back from where he came from briefly.

Pluey’s hand reached up, a freezing thumb rubbing against his cheek, regaining Battat’s attention.

“You’re awake, you have to get up, help me lift you, please—” Battat instinctively placed a hand over Pluey’s chest, checking.

A long pause, Battat unable to help that awful feeling. Face scrunching in, way beyond his control before tearing his eyes away from the health bar. Wrapping his arms around the other, Battat began to pull again.

“Please— Please, you can’t— You have to get up—”

The wind chill.

His nervous system.

Or the fact that Pluey was on the brink of death.

Battat couldn’t stop shaking.

His fingers ached, unable to figure out if his grip was as strong as it could be without the cold. When Battat couldn’t pull anymore he just stayed there, holding so close as if he was the one thing keeping Pluey from getting worse.

It was when he heard Jongler’s voice did he move, pushing up to look over.

A red light, faint but there. Jongler’s voice calling through the winds, much louder than they were close.

Battat called back, refusing to get up. Nothing could convince him to let go.

___

“Give ‘im here Batts, I gottem..”

“He’s cold—”

“I know, come on..”

“—He can’t be this cold—”

Pulling Battat to his feet, Jongler managed to pick Pluey up separately. Double checking the scene they had tracked down, lucky at all by the snow tracks Battat left moments prior.

“I got some guys at tha’ door, they’ll help ‘im. Tenna still don’t know. We’re fine Batts.”

“Pluey isn’t—”

“Okay, okay, c’mere.”

They couldn’t help it.

Battat standing there, shivering, half froze streaks down his face, black smudges on his arm and cheek. Adding in that Pluey was found unconscious on the ground outside…

Jongler picked Battat up as well, turning and carrying the two back towards the hall exit doorway. Taking their time to be careful, but still with the goal to get back inside.

A couple of shadowguys and a Zapper were waiting at the door, making sure to keep it open by the time Jongler returned. Of course who they knew as Mike went after some employees, returning carrying the two.

“I’m takin’ ‘dese two somewhere private ta’ warm up. Keep tha’ show rollin’ and don’t let Tenna know. I’ll be back in time, yeahs?” Already loosening an arm to let Battat down when he started struggling on his own.

“He needs healing, J— Revive mints! I have some I think—!” Stammering, hands patting to check his pockets when realizing he had already taken his poncho off. “Pluey’s health isn’t good, he was out there too long on his own and I— Someone get something! Now!” Directing himself at one of the worried Shadowguys, yelling at them. One tensed, grabbing the other as they ran off to retrieve practically any healing item at this rate.

Jongler frowns, looking back down at Pluey in their arms before checking.

Silently looking back away, Jongler gave one singular nod to the remaining Zapper before turning to leave.

“He’s not goin’ Batts. Go clean off your face. Wait for the healin’ items. Yous know where ta’ find me.”

“Wait—”

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

They didn’t wait for what else Battat had to say. While Pluey wasn’t out there anymore, they had to make sure he remained stable while waiting on healing items.

It didn’t matter if Tenna took a commercial break right now and didn’t know where Mike was.

It didn’t matter if the other stage managers were looking for them to get help.

It didn’t matter if they were supposed to be Mike.

They were carrying their more than halfway dead friend right now.

With the honest hope that being inside and warming up can give them enough time, Pluey will be okay.

He’d have to be.

___

“Wha—!” Tenna stammers, screen staticing over before turning clearly. “Mike! You can’t leave! We’re barely halfway through!”

“My own work is callin’ me—” Mike turned, a half step towards the door.

“This is your work!” Tenna snaps.

“Standing around while you’re up on stage?!” Mike motions out from where they stood right wing.

“Being here when I need you!”

“It’s a damn marathon!”

“Which is why it’s important Mike! You can’t go!” Tenna hisses.

“‘Dis ain’t fair and you know it ain’t. Tha’ few times I need somethin’ for me, and yous stand here yellin’?”

“You work for me!”

“Only ‘cause we—” They stopped, taking a deep breath to recollect themselves. “‘Cause I came back. Yous stay up on stage, do what yous know to do. What’s it any different that I ain’t available for tha’ five to ten damn minutes you step off?! You have two more stage managers. Use them.”

Tenna stares, shrinking ever so slightly before continuing just as firm as before. “...You leave the very important show that’s proving my worth— That’s proving that OUR world is allowed to stay just as it is—”

“Do. Your. Show. Yous talk ta’ me when they don’t watch you for another week.”

___

Closing the door, Jongler started stripping the layers of the Mike costume off. Zeroing in on where Pluey was left on the couch covered by all sorts of blankets and heating pads.

By the time Battat had returned, he came with the healing items brought to him amongst more supplies to help. Of course he didn’t clean off his face until he worked with Jongler to make sure Pluey would be fine. Figuring out how to heal Pluey, checking his health status quite a few times even after regaining a comfortable amount of health points. Jongler only left the room once Battat felt it was safe enough to even step away from Pluey as well. He didn’t leave the room, just enough to finally clean off his face, get his poncho back on and so forth, but once Battat started, Jongler took it as a sign they could go and handle Tenna.

“Hey.” Battat greeted, having pulled a chair up by the couch. An attempt to sit nearby but not disturb Pluey. One of their puzzle booklets in hand, page empty with nothing new aside a blotch of wet ink ready to tear through. He couldn’t distract his mind even if he wanted to.

“Hey,” Jongler sighs, folding every article of clothing up to place aside, working on walking over. “...Did he..?” They start.

“...No signs.” Battat shuffled in the chair, staring into his book as he slouched inward on himself.

“He’ll wake up soon then.” Jongler nods slowly, watching how Battat fidgetted in place. Even slouched, he managed to fit his feet up on the chair, the booklet half hidden between his chest and legs only to be seen by himself.

“...Yeah.”

Jongler hovered, turning to look back at Pluey. He really hadn’t changed from the position they had laid him in before.

“...Yous did good Batts.”

No response, but out of the corner of their vision they watched him shift in place, a full head tilt up then right back down.

“I mean it. Yous did good.”

“...Don’t say that.” He mumbled, pen tapping against the page. At this angle, they could see it was making a second ink blotch.

Jongler let silence take over, tearing their gaze elsewhere in the room as they took another breath. Maybe to find something to distract themselves as well. “...Okay.”