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Chapter Text

Magic.

You were still getting used to this magic thing.

It wasn’t like anyone had warned you – for a few hours there you had only been a fake figure. A new, squeaky clean exhibit that families had smiled and admired at. Just for a bit. About ten hours of non-existence. Ten nice hours of utter non-awareness. That was all.

Ten hours wasn’t very long.

And then, surely as it would, nighttime had fallen over the city of New York. Your consciousness had been instated for the very first time, you had come to life for the very first time. Awoken with a gasp.

Pulled from nothingness into a state of being.

That had only been a week ago. Only seven nights of experience. And so, you were still getting used to this ancient magic. Still adjusting to the feeling of being awoken from a deep slumber.

Still adjusting to being alive.

In this crazy institution, you were called Y/N, and you were the newest exhibit at The Museum Of Natural History. Now, you weren’t some famous historical figure. Definitely not an ancient emperor or a U.S. president.

In fact, you weren’t even a significant person from history. You were a customized exhibit – made specifically for the museum, lovingly crafted, down to every last detail. Brand new. Bright. Shiny. Authentic.

One of a kind!

Special – that was the word.

You were special.

The higher executives running the museum wanted to do something cool, something appealing for younger visitors. So one executive suddenly suggested the idea ‘hey, what if we let people design their own exhibit? And people can decide what it will be? - Something that represents them?’

And thus, that’s exactly what you were.

The museum held a very long and hotly anticipated promotional game – design a personalized exhibition for us, free of charge! Make it whatever you want! Include any crazy details!

The only one rule? You, the exhibit, had to be vaguely human.

That was the only rule. Everything else was on the table.

The museum had organized a ballot box, placed it at the front, near the revolving doors. On little slips of paper the visitors wrote down various ideas of what this authentic human exhibit could look like.

At the end of it – all the suggestions would be considered – the votes counted.

People went completely nuts. Wrote down the most crazy suggestions.

Could it be a human with two heads? A human mixed with frog DNA? A human with hundreds of blinking eyeballs? A human that had five different mouths?

However, the very most popular idea – was a human being with wings.

The idea wasn’t crazy, wasn’t bizarrely hideous. It was an idea of beauty and awe, something mysterious and ethereal. Hundreds of little kids had written ‘human with bird wings!’, dropping their suggestion into the ballot box.

That’s what visitors wanted to see the most. And hence, you were painstakingly created – a new, customized exhibit. You were a human figure with wings. And not just the short, ugly wings of a chicken, but white, feathered, gorgeous wings – like the wings of a biblical angel.

These wings extended from your back, between your shoulder blades, spreading out to a great length of six meters. The museum executives had commissioned some famous effects designer to craft your exhibition wings – with a point to make them as very realistic as possible.

The designer had obeyed – constructing your wings from craft feathers, white string, layered white fabric, and a few real feathers too, dropped from flying doves around New York. In all regards you were just a normal human exhibit, except for these huge wings encompassing your frame.

Not famous. Not an Angel. Just a girl with some wings.

That’s what the visitors wanted.

And oh, the suggestion cards really wanted you to have pink hair. So for some reason you also had pink hair.

Exactly seven nights ago you had come alive for the first time – gaping at the mammoth creatures and walking figures made of metal. Right now, on a rather chilly Friday, you were just stepping off your platform, stretching your fingers out. A yawn left your lips.

What would tonight bring?

On your first night here, these three elderly men, security guards, had explained the impossible situation to your disbelieving self – some ancient Egyptian tablet brought all the exhibitions to life. But the tablet’s magic only worked for the night – in the morning everyone became utterly immobile once more.

The main nightguard, Cecil Fredricks, had squeezed your arm and given you a wink, telling you to enjoy the newfound freedom. Then the three men had simply strolled away, chuckling to themselves about your dumbfounded expression.

Looking around right now – you weren’t so sure what to do.

Maybe you would go play with Dexter the monkey. Or you could practice flying. That was the most crazy thing – you could fly.

During the daytime your wings were obviously fake.

Pretty, and really neat, but they were clearly not real – just a costume that had been clearly designed and then constructed. However during the nighttime your exhibition wings transitioned into actual wings. The wings became much heavier, the craft feathers melted into proper feathers, and the white wings responded to the slightest possible stimulus.

Of course – this was all because of the ancient Egyptian tablet.

Magic. It was legitimate A-grade magic.

In terms of clothing, you donned a formal, long-sleeved purple blouse. However the purple blouse didn’t have a back – much of the back fabric was sewn out to make space for your feathered wings.

And you also donned long black trousers – with a silver necklace around your neck.

In terms of age, you looked around seventeen or eighteen. The museum executives wanted a figure that was relatively youthful and pretty. So – you were still technically a teenager.

 Sighing, you begin walking around in the hope of something to do. Someone to talk with. To be honest – you didn’t really have many ‘friends’ within the museum.

Most exhibits stuck together within their little groups.

And you didn’t have any group.

There was no specific time period you belonged to, no aspect of history you were a part of. You were completely out of place. Not like the others.

A girl with wings was something like an oddity.

However, Rexy liked you a lot. That reanimated dinosaur skeleton was your favorite thing here, so you decide to go play with him.

He always cheered you up. He didn’t care who the hell you were.

While you’re walking through one of the hallways, you almost collide straight into another person heading the opposite way. You mutter a quick ‘sorry’ – not wanting a fight. Some of these exhibits were rather hotheaded.

Not thinking much of it, you continue walking along, but strangely enough you can feel the person’s eyes glued to your back – tracking your path.

Never a good sign. Were you going to be harassed this early in the night?

 “Hey! Wait! Stop! Hold on!”

This causes you to completely freeze.

Not many of the exhibits were actually human, yet along capable of speaking proper English. And you didn’t recognize the person’s voice. It made for a scary situation.

Feeling fearful, you slowly turn around.

Terrified to see who it was.

The person calling for you was a man.

A distressed-looking man dressed in navy uniform. The man has light blue eyes, and short black hair, and was carrying papers in his hands.

The man approaches you, staring, completely open-mouthed, at your feathered wings.

Currently you had your wings folded together, but even then, the wings were large – the bottom few feathers trailed on the floor.

With a horrible jolt you realize this man is not an exhibit but a nightguard. And from your prior experiences with Cecil, Gus, and Reginald – those nightguards were just the worst. Fucking terrified – you’re just about to bolt away – wanting to hide in the furthest corner of the museum.

Just as you take a step to flee, the man grabs your arm, locking you in place.

“Please don’t hurt me!” You yelp, screwing your eyes shut.

“I’m not going to hurt you. I just........” He trails off.

Slowly your eyes flutter open. The man is still staring at your feathered wings with a mix of shock and amazement. And a little disbelief. Cautiously, you take a step back. This constant staring from everyone was making you antsy.

“Are those, real? Those aren’t a costume, are they?” - His voice sounds shaky.

At this point you realize – to make the man stop ogling at you - you have to show him a demonstration. More to get this over with – you decide to show your wings in full. Then maybe he'll snap out of it. Maybe it’ll get rid of the comical dumbstruck look.

You take another step back.

Feeling extremely embarrassed you let your wings unfold – just so the man knows he’s not having an extreme hallucination.

Gracefully you stretch out your wings – letting the large, dazzling feathers uncurl to their full length. And the motion feels freeing – like movement after a long time of being stationary. The full spreading of your wings is clearly a big shock for the man.

He drops his papers and they litter comically across the floor.

When your wings are fully extended they cover a great length – nearly six meters. And your wings were startingly white – impeccably beautiful.

Suffice to say the effects designer created you to be perfect.

From the visitors you always got the most stares, the most admiration, the attention and finger-pointing and the little kids going ‘wow! Mom! Look at that!’

Now that the man knows it’s not a hallucination, it’s probably time to run.

Aside from that – you’re nothing too special. Just a girl with feathery wings. And this girl wanted out. 

“Ok. You’ve seen it. Now excuse me sir, I’ll be going.”

And then with a slight hysteria, you bolt down the hallway, not even stopping to look back. If there was one thing you hated, it was the attention. You’re practically running. Just to get away.

But with the loud sound of footsteps the man is following you, still ogling at your wings. And then you know you’re in trouble.

“Hey! I don’t like being followed.”

“Holy cow. Are you supposed to be an angel?”

This question causes you to laugh. A hysterical, mean-spirited laugh. Delirious. 

“Leave me alone. I want to go play with Rexy.”

“I – I don’t even know what to say. I – wow. Wow. Your wings are beautiful. I – wow.”

“Nope. I’m not actually supposed to be an angel. And who are you?”

“I’m Larry. Larry Daley. I’m the new nightguard here. Holy crap. I just – wow. Wow. Those wings make you look like an angel. And those are real! Those are real feathers! Holy crap.”

You’re still trying to outrun him, but the man is following you relentlessly. He’s on your tail.

It’s really fucking freaking you out, you don’t know what to do.

Maybe if you make it to Rexy then the dinosaur can bring you some defense. But the man doesn’t seem too hostile, just shocked and rendered stupid. It’s all about your wings. The fact that your wings are just so amazingly beautiful.

The museum executives couldn’t have you looking mundane, no way in hell.

“The new nightguard? What about those old bums Cecil and Gus and Reginald?”

“They’ve been fired. They won’t be working here anymore.”

A crazy laugh leaves your lips. “Yayyy! And good riddance! I hated them!”

You’re still running really fast, speeding past metal-statue Christopher Columbus and other figures that blur together. You’re really trying to get away, just gunning it but the man is keeping up with you, and you are tiring out. These heavy wings are slowing you down.

All you wanted was a semi-normal night. You try cut a corner but the man, Larry, again grabs onto your arm, preventing you from moving.

“Stop that!” you plead, your giant wings drooping downwards. And you almost start sobbing.

“Please leave me alone I didn’t do anything! I just want to go play with the dinosaur! I’m sorry I ran into you! I’m sorry I just! What do you want from me! I can leave if you want me to! I’m sorry!”

At this point you’ve almost burst into tears. Goddamit – you had only been alive for seven nights. Everything made you so emotional. You couldn’t seem to catch a break. It was too overwhelming.

There were too many people at this damn museum.

The blue-eyed man is shocked by your sudden change of tone.

His expression immediately softens, he relaxes his grip on your arm. And now he almost looks worried. He can see the literal dread in your eyes. The way your wings have gone all limp.

He didn’t mean any harm and you’ve almost fallen to pieces.

“Hey. Hey. I’m not going to hurt you. Was it because I was chasing you? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to- I’m sorry I was chasing you. I just wanted to tell your wings are really cool. Your wings are incredible. I just – It caught me a little bit off guard. Hey, it’s ok, I’m not here to harm you. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Down the hallway - metal Christopher Columbus is observing you in worry.

He’s been nice to you - even though you never understand what he’s saying. He’s staring at you and Larry, wondering what’s going on. You send him a wave to show everything’s ok. He nods.

Looking back at Larry – Larry is terrified.

He’s gone from awed to really startled by your mood. Creases appear on his forehead and his blue eyes are wide. He hates seeing the hurt expression written on your face.

At this point something tells you Larry is not a bad guy. He’s not like those assholes Cecil and Gus. Especially Gus.

So at this point – you know to stop running.

“Uh. Sorry. Sorry. I overreacted. I just – you were chasing me. I was panicking about it. Sorry. It’s my bad.”

“No, no, it was completely my fault. I shouldn’t have been chasing you. It was a bad thing to do. I just wanted to tell you your wings are amazing. They look like, really awesome. My name’s Larry, by the way.”

“Thanks Larry.”

“Do you know what the heck is going on here? What’s happening? Why has everything at this museum come to life? All these exhibits, the animals, even the Easter Island head........”

A sigh leaves your lips, and when you shift your wings upwards they brush past Larry’s trousers. Even this makes him startle. He was completely clueless. But he was not a nasty jerk.

“Ok. First thing. My name is Y/N. They call me Y/N. I’ve only been here for a week -  but from what I’ve heard the reason we call come to life is this ancient Egyptian tablet. It’s a powerful magic spell. Ahkmenrah’s tablet – I think it was called.”    

Larry’s eyes flicker from your face to your feathered wings.

Literally – when he first saw you – he thought you were an angel.

An angel was not to be expected from a Museum.

“An ancient Egyptian tablet? How the hell…?”

“I’ve only been here for a week. Teddy knows more about it than me.”

“Teddy?”

“Theodore Roosevelt. He’s a super nice guy. Little bit strict.”

Larry holds up the papers, which appear extremely old and crinkled. Like they’ve been through a lifetime of hell. “instruction manual. The first step was ‘throw the bone’. I almost got eaten alive.”

You smile.

“Oh, yeah. That would have been for Rexy. He loves playing fetch.”

Larry recognizes you’re no longer scared. Now you’ve clearly stopped freaking out. He takes this as a good sign. And you seem to have some sanity.

“Look. Again, I’m really sorry about what happened. But could you please help me? Y/N I really need your help. Please. I’m sorry that I chased you.”

It’s true. Larry looks both apologetic AND desperate.

Having struggled to navigate the Museum yourself – it was only right of you to help him.

“Yes. Yes. I’ll help you Larry. Don’t worry.”

“Second step. Lock up the lions or they’ll eat you. Where are the lions?”

“This way.” – Even though you rather wouldn’t help Larry, at least he was some company. Someone to talk to. Someone that could actually communicate proper English. Hell – most of the exhibits here were either animals or completely illiterate.

And it wasn’t like you had anything else to do anyway. So, taking a breath, you start leading the way, strolling along the hall with a casual sense of calmness.

While you’re directing Larry, his eyes are still glued to your wings.

“Um. Larry you can stop staring now. It’s getting a little annoying.”

“It’s just – wow I wasn’t expecting to see that. Y’know. It looks really incredible. I mean you look good. I mean the wings are actually real and everything. Authentic.”

“There’s a lot more interesting exhibits than just me. Like the Easter Island Head?? Crazy.”

 “You’ve been the nicest so far. Everyone else seems to be some kind of insane.”

“Don’t worry. I’m insane too, Larry. Do you see the stuff I put up with?”

“So if you’re not actually an angel, what are you supposed to be? And why do you have pink hair?”

There was no time to explain, you and Larry had arrived at the African Hall of Mammals. Almost immediately the three lions started roaring, causing Larry to jump. “It’s ok, it’s ok, they trust me.” Slowly creeping forward, you hold out your hand, looking at the lions directly.

Maybe it was something to do with your inherently animalistic trait – your wings – the look of not being fully human..... because the lions then backed off, and also stopped the aggressive roaring.

Larry doesn’t waste a second, sprinting to the other side, past the elephant and ostrich and zebras. Smiling, you felt much happier around the animal exhibits than the actual people. Most of the people were unhinged.

The elephant lumbered along, brushing right past your wings. One of the lions even approaches you, playfully rubbing its head on your leg. You giggle. “Aww. Nice cat.”

Scratching the lion behind its ears – maybe they weren’t so bad. As long as you treated them with respect – they were perfectly fine.

“Y/N can you get over here! I need to lock this place up!” Grumbling, you amble over to Larry, thinking that he’s not stopping to appreciate everything. He’s just rushing right through it.

Larry just stares at you.

“What?”

Larry just shakes his head. He closes the gates for the hall, then checks the precious instructions. “Number three. Check your belt the monkey probably stole your keys.”

Immediately you look up, and there’s Dexter the trickster capuchin, hanging on the gate. He’s got the keys. And he looks extremely pleased about it. You laugh loudly. “Well. Good luck with that. I’m out.”

Larry shoots you a dirty look.

Grinning at him, you casually just stroll away, not caring enough.

Feeling tired you decide to sit down – your ‘sleep’ during the day hadn’t felt very refreshing. And your wings were so large – they were really heavy – constantly trailing behind your feet. While your wings were definitely beautiful, they could also serve as an inconvenience. And it wasn’t like you could just chop them off.

While fiddling with your pink hair you notice Larry is struggling with Dexter. Dexter keeps moving just out of reach, just a little bit – greatly annoying the nightguard. Because you’re not a total asshole you decide to go and help. Put Larry out of his misery.

Walking over – a smile tinges on your lips. “Y/N the monkey is acting wise.”

“Shush. That’s just his personality.”

Dexter moves closer to you, he seems to nod his head at you. He’s seen you before. Trying to trick Dexter never ever works, so you have to be genuine to him.

“Hey Dexter. I know you love being a bit cheeky, but could you please give me the keys? Just this once – I’d really appreciate it. I swear next time you can keep them. Please?”

Dexter hesitates, like he’s debating whether or not to do so. Alas, he respects you enough, because he gently deposits the keys in your outstretched hand. “Thank you, Dexter.”

Larry gives you a dumbfounded look. “How did you do that?”

You don’t even bother responding – because something has caught your attention. A visitor must have accidentally dropped their camera because you see one lying on the ground a few paces away. “Oooh!” you rush over, eagerly picking up camera.

Technology from the outside world was so fascinating. Your wings start to flutter with excitement.

This – this camera – could give you lots of entertainment. Something to do during the night.

You’re trying to get the camera working when there’s a big commotion from behind you. “Ew! Hey! Bad monkey! Stop that!” - Dexter is peeing right on Larry’s shoulder.

“Dexter no!” You shout, horrified.

“Do you have a problem with me or something? Because when I have a problem with someone, I don’t usually pee on them!”

You’re about to plead ‘Larry, please just move on now’, but it’s too late, the damage has already been done. Dexter takes no prisoners. Larry rattles the bars. “And let me tell you something-” Dexter swings past him, snatching the precious instructions from his grasp. Dexter does a monkey grin.

“DEXTER!”

The monkey sits himself in a tree, the ancient papers perched in his hands. The papers that were vitally important, especially since Larry is new. Feeling frozen – you don’t know how to react. Why was everything so absurd. 

“I know what you’re thinking – Dexter – Don’t do it.” But Dexter delicately tears the papers to shreds, you watch the fragments float away in the air. “YOU!”

Larry is amusingly upset, running his hands through his hair. He storms away. It’s horrible but you can’t help but laugh.  

Larry is having such a hard time. And it’s only been like, what, about fifteen minutes??

“This is not happening!” you follow along behind him, choking from the laughter.

If you weren’t there to help – Larry would have been even more hopeless.

“That wasn’t funny, Y/N.”

“I’m sorry but that was a little funny. Dexter must really hate you, he’s not usually that rude.”

“I am going to KILL Cecil when I see him again. He must think this was a big joke.”

This reminds you of something. Those old nightguards really were gone. Sure, it wasn’t like they were lovely people, but still, they could have told you they were leaving. And especially since they had been fired. They were jerks, yeah, but maybe you could have at least said a bitter goodbye.

It had been such a shock – bumping into Larry. The new guy who had appeared out of nowhere.

Staring at Larry, you appreciate his black hair and light blue eyes. He wasn’t too bad-looking. Not at all. 

Larry gets suspicious. “Ok - Why are you staring at me?”

“Y’know you’re quite handsome. You’re much nicer looking than those old nightguards. Especially the old fart called Gus.”

“I’m not sure this is appropriate, Y/N.”

You ball past this. “Can I call you Mr. Handsome? Do you mind? And like what if I got a crush on you? What would you do about it? And I blushed at you and stuff? And giggled?”

“Don’t do that. I look old enough to be your father.”

You scoff. “Actually, no. I’m just an exhibit. Not real. I don’t have an actual age. I might look about eighteen – but actually that d-“

“You behave like you’re actually eighteen. Like a teenager. And I’m a fully grown adult. So that’s out of the question Y/N. Can we get this relationship purely professional? Please?”

“Fine. Stuff you! I’ll just go date the Easter Island Head.”

You almost storm away in a huff, but then you realize you still have the keys. After marching a few steps, you turn around with a guilty expression, the keys jingling in your hand.

You casually chuck the keys at Larry and he catches them.

“Don’t get me wrong, Y/N. You’re very beautiful. It’s just........Well you look so young. Like you could be my rebellious teenage daughter. With your crazy pink hair. And I’m just -”

 “Don’t worry. I don’t need a date. I’m just glad to have someone to talk to. It’s very rare. A, human person. B, can actually speak words. C, can speak proper English. D, is relatively sane and normal. And don’t get me started on those old nightguards!”

There’s a strange mix of emotion in your voice. Hysteria. Amusement. Sarcasm.

Some sadness too – sadness about your nightly museum life.

Technically being a teenage girl – what the hell would you do every night? Stay at the information desk?

“I think the problem is - you need something to entertain yourself every night. Normal teenager stuff. Like music and video games. And not doing the dishes. You’re bored – that’s the problem. And when teenagers are bored they go crazy.”

Walking slower, the giggles start to leave your system. Your wings slump downwards, you glance at the camera in your hands. Sadly, you smooth out your purple blouse. And then you just sigh.

That was the problem.

What were you going to do for the rest of eternity?

Every single night. The same mundane routine.

Wake up. Play with Rexy. Walk around. Have a nap. Chat with Teddy about his adventures. Walk around some more. Avoid Attila and his Huns. Rinse and repeat.

No change, no excitement, no wonder of the outside world. And the thought of that made you so sad. Larry notices your sudden change of mood, the hanging of your head. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

You look away. “Nothing.”

Larry gives your arm a soft shake. “Hey. Don’t kid me missy. Just two seconds ago you were giggling like mad.”

Because no one really talked to you – only Rexy played with you – but no human conversation - there’s quite a lot on your mind. For a newly-made exhibit you were awfully sad.

“I just – Like – I’m really lonely, Y’know? I’m alone. I don’t actually have any friends here. I’m like an outcast. The exhibits always stick to their assigned groups. That’s the thing. The Neanderthals stick with the Neanderthals. The Huns stick with the Huns. But I’m just like-“

“- All by myself.” Larry finishes the sentence for you.

Larry looks genuinely worried, which is batshit crazy cause he only just met you. It sucked but it was the truth. Your only friends were the animal exhibits. And that didn’t really count. In terms of real people, people with human emotion, the only person you knew was Christopher Columbus.

And that metal man couldn’t speak English.

There was Teddy. Of course. But you didn’t know Teddy too well. He was always busy.

On night four you had hidden in the locker room and sat in the corner. It was a lonely night. It was just like – no one was there for you – in all honesty, out of all the exhibits, truly who were you friends with????

So you had simply hidden, trying to restrain from tears.

Cecil, the main nightguard, doing his rounds, had looked at you like ‘what the hell?’. To be honest, the nightguards actually felt a little bad for you, so on that one night they treated you with some level of ‘kindness’.

They let you stay in the locker room and read over some books. That one nightguard called Gus was an asshole – but Cecil and Reginald were alright.

There are so few friends in your life that you actually laugh. It was almost funny.

“Y/N, I’m sure if you tried to talk to the others, they would engage with you. Maybe you have to be a bit more proactive about it. Introduce yourself.”

Biting your lip, you try to seem all when it’s not even cool at all.

“No it’s OK. I can play with Rexy and stuff. Rexy loves me.”

Larry is about to say something, but you quickly cut him off. “No. seriously. It’s fine. Don’t worry.”

And you can tell Larry is still concerned, but you make to sure look away so he can’t see the pain written on your face.

There’s a seat up ahead, and Larry needs a break, so he sits down. And you try to sit down, but your wings arejust too large and too delicate. Your wings get squashed uncomfortably; the feathers pinned behind your back. This forces you to stand. Irritated, you fold your wings up tightly.

“Shit! I can’t even sit down properly!”

Larry is still gazing at you. He still can’t believe it. “You realize your wings are beautiful, right?”

“More like a major inconvenience.” You hold up the camera in your hands. “What’s this thing called again??”

He’s about to respond when suddenly something hits him in the face. “OW!”

Just then you notice these little, miniature people walking along the seat, carrying shoots in their hands. They continue to fire at him, he yelps in pain and moves away. Amazed, you look around and realize you’ve never been here before.

In this part of the museum. The hall of miniatures.

“No way!”

Larry pulls you forward, gazing at a diorama of what appeared to be the Old West. There were little, tiny people riding horses, working at a railway line, dancing, and singing happily to each other. The setting was extremely undeveloped, like the dusty plains of a new land.

This was not something you had seen yet. It was fantastic.

“Wow! That’s incredible!” it brings a smile to your face.

Then you suddenly feel something happening to your legs. With a shock it seems you’re being tied up. The little figurines cause you to tip over. It all happened so fast.

You land heavily on your stomach, only just cushioning the fall with your arm. Immediately you sit up and try scramble, but they quickly bind your wrists together. Only your wings are left free. They’ve also done it to Larry. Very fast. Very efficient.

“Hey! I’m one of you! I’m an exhibit! Let me go! Hey!”

Larry is trapped, tied up, and stuck within the Old West diorama. It looks so ridiculous that you laugh. Even they you’re tied up no one pays you any attention – the little cowboys are too focused on abusing Larry. Those little people did not hesitate. 

Only just – because they’re so small - you can see one of the cowboys addressing Larry. The cowboy has short blonde hair, a red bandana, and is sitting on a horse.

Tied up, on the floor, sitting there on your ass, you can’t hear what the little people are saying – but it’s clear the blonde cowboy is in charge.

You’re feeling all like ‘oh seriously what now???’ - This night was going to last forever.

Resting your head on your knee, it might even be time to take a nap. Larry says a few things you can hear, like ‘pay for what!?’, and ‘what’s going on here!?’, and ‘stop that!’. The little blonde cowboy is pissed, and then they start up an old steam-train, and it hurtles along, Larry’s head tied to the tracks.

It’s kinda funny. In a way. Cute and stuff.

The little blonde cowboy is egging it along, gleefully waving his fist. And while the train might have certainly killed one of the little people, for Larry it only bumps into his face,, leaving about two seconds of pain.

The cowboys kick dust in disappointment. Especially the blonde one – looking so upset.

It’s so weirdly sweet that you can’t help but laugh. It was bizarre but very cute.

Tired of the cowboy’s shenanigans, Larry irritably rips away at the ropes binding him, which terrifies some of the miniatures. Larry manages to sit up, flicking away a lone figurine on his shoulder.

He then stares down at you. “Don’t you dare laugh.”

You grin devilishly – but only a little.

This was starting to get annoying. Your legs are outstretched, but they’re completely tied up, and you have your wrists lying on your legs, which are also tied up. “Larry. Can you tell the little cowboys to let me go. Seriously. Funny joke, ha ha.”

Then – and only then – did the blonde cowboy finally pay attention to you.

He turned around to face you, and all of sudden you could make out every single detail of his face.

He had the lightest shade of blue eyes, and dark wisps of stubble, and his nose had a slightly crooked shape. For a moment – and there was no denying it – the cowboy appeared extremely shocked.

He was staring at your feathered wings, looking legit gobsmacked.

The cowboy’s mouth was in the formation of a comical ‘O’

You gazed back at him, just sitting there like an idiot. He was a handsome little cowboy.

His eyes were so blue, you could almost see yourself reflected in the irises.

All around him, the little Old West miniatures started pointing at you and muttering to themselves. While your wings weren’t fully extended, the feathers were still wrapped around your frame, and everyone was staring at you. It made you want to die.

The attention made you feel almost ashamed, in some strange way.

All this attention but no actual companionship. 

“UM? Can you guys let me go now? I don’t like being tied up.”

“Wow-wee. Looky what we got here ‘fellas. An angel in the midst if y’all ever saw one. Look at ‘em wings! Feathers be blazin’ white!” The blonde cowboy started speaking, his voice had a southern drawl.

It would have been endearing – had you not been tied up on the cold floor.

Feeling mad, you almost spit out ‘fuck you!’.

But then his blue eyes met with yours, and you just couldn’t be mad at him, he was about the size of a toothpick. It would have been cruel, just so unfair, really unfair to yell at someone that small. And if there was one thing you hated – it was aggression. Fighting was not your thing. He was tiny.

The cowboy seemed like a super macho type-of guy, but in his eyes, there was evident surprise and curiosity about your wings. Not ill-mannered spite – but almost awe.

And then the cowboy just shook his head. What did it mean???

“Hey. Blonde cowboy. I’m not an angel. I’m just a girl with wings. Why am I being tied up?”

“Name’s Jedediah!” 

“Jedediah. Why am I still tied up? Why?”

“Confiding with the enemy, ‘gal. us exhibits don’t help ‘em nightguards. Is treason!”

“You guys can let her go. She didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Wow. Thanks. Took you long enough, Larry.”

“Sorry Y/N I was a little bit preoccupied being tied-up.”

“I still am! You guys let me go or I’ll call Rexy!”

Just then you felt something crawling up your wings.

Feeling repulsed, you first thought it was a bug.

You swiveled around and saw it was another miniature figure. But it was not a cowboy.

This one was a Roman.

He, the Roman, was wearing a silver chest piece, with a red robe layered over it, and a silver helmet.

“Hey! Get off! Hey!” You yelped, watching the Roman scale up your feathered wings. He was fast and surprisingly nimble.

When he climbed to the top of your wings, you realized it would be wrong to fling him off. He might fall to the floor and explode like a gory splatter. So you gently curve your wing downwards, giving the Roman a stable platform.

He points his sword right at your face.

“Are you an Angel sent from the Gods? Here to assist the Romans?”

It feels like a scam – that everyone keeps calling you an Angel – so you try set the record straight.

“No. I’m not an angel. I’m just a human with alterations. I have no divine power. And I didn’t mean to get caught up in whatever this is.”

The Roman looks momentarily disappointed, up close you can see the brown of his eyes. He was handsome, yet also a bit dorky. “But you have the most beautiful wings-”

“Hey! Octavius! Don’t you get all ‘rootin pretty with her! She can’t be trusted!” The cowboy yells this loudly.

Sensing an opportunity, it’s time to take advantage. You gently point at the little figurine.

It had come time for manipulation.

“Hey. Mr. Roman. If I really was an Angel, you wouldn’t want me tied up right? It’s not moral. Angels are supposed to be free. Angels shouldn’t be held down.”

The roman nods. “Yes. I suppose that is true. No one can restrain a Higher Being.”

“Please help. Can you please let me go? Please? Can you cut these ties? It’ll bring you good grace. I’ll return the favor for you.” - You hold up your wrists which are tied together.

The Roman stares at you, glancing at your feathered wings. With some faking, you give him a really sad, desperate sob. Angel tears. This seals the deal.

“Alright. I shall free you. Hold very still.”

The roman uses his sword, slashing through the ropes, he is still standing on the curve of your wings. With some perseverance the ropes fall away. “Thank you! Thank you so much! I am free!”

It was a small victory – but still a victory.

You supply the Roman a really genuine, sweet smile. He can't help but smile back at you. 

Jedediah is pissed. “I knew ya would side with her! Boy! Ya shouldn’t have done that! Girl ya have made me your ‘spittin enemy!” 

“Maybe you shouldn’t tie people up Jedediah! Have you considered that I’m also an exhibit!?”

 “We ain’t nothin’ alike bird-girl!”

“Ok. SCREW THIS. Stuff you! I’m out.”

Feeling over-it, you quickly make to stand up, when the roman digs his sword deep into your cheek.

And now. The betrayal. Nothing went according to plan. 

“Ow! Hey!”

“Young lady you are in my service. You said you would return the aid. I’m a Roman.”

“Roman I don’t have time for this. I’ll help another time. Now cut out the crap.” 

“Show your loyalty or die. Now prepare the catapults!”

“Wait, what!?” all of sudden, assembled behind you, was a whole Roman legion of miniatures, every single one of them brandishing a sword. You blink at Octavius.

“What the hell are you doing!?”

“Finishing the giant. It’s payback for his transgressions. He will pay.”

“HUH??”

“I’m not a giant! You guys are just really little!”

“SILENCE! The Roman Empire knows no bounds!”

“Nope. I’m not getting dragged into this. Bye.” Hastily, but gently, you pick up Octavius and deposit him on the ground. You scramble to undo your leg binds, for some reason your wings are shaking.

This whole thing was shitting bizarre. Bonkers. Off-the-wall. Completely-insane. Just ridiculous.

The Roman starts a legitimate fucking countdown, his legion at the ready. “Three. Two. One. ROMANS UNLEASH ALL HELL!!”

The romans send flaming arrows, flaming rocks, and other crap soaring at Larry. Ducking, you only just avoid getting hit in the avalanche. Octavius yells out ‘Young lady get back here! Do your duty!’ - but nope, you’ve had enough of that.

Larry darts out the way, knocking you into something hard.

You whip around.

There is a man sitting up on a regal-looking horse, the man dressed in beige-colored uniform.

At the sight of the President you almost faint from sheer relief.

“TEDDY!” You shout.

Finally. Someone with an actual brain.

“Climb aboard, boy! Y/N, we are much too slow for your liking! I suspect you can fly faster than Rexy can find his bone, so don’t wait up! We’ll meet you at the finish line!”

Larry swings himself onto the horse, and they immediately pelt off, racing down the hall.

“WAIT! HEY! WAIT FOR ME!!”

Not prepared to fly with your wings, you simply jog down the corridor, the screaming of Romans and Cowboys still ringing so loudly in your ears....

It was going to be a long night.

Chapter Text

After a while, you gave up the chase.

It was too much effort, and also, you didn’t have the faintest idea where the nightguard and president went. They had completely disappeared.

You kept calling out ‘Larry!’ and ‘Teddy!’, but their voices didn’t respond back, nor did you see any sign of them. You searched most of the hallways, two different floors, even peeked into the public bathrooms. No sign of them. It almost made you upset – why had they ditched you so quickly?

They had abandoned you without breaking a sweat.

Feeling lonely, you decided to venture out and go find Rexy – Rexy was always happy to see you. And he would probably want a round of fetch. Rexy never ditched you, never harassed you, never tied you up and made you feel like a fool. He was just a playful dinosaur. With lots of energy.

While you’re walking down one of the hallways, a really deep, rumbling voice yells out ‘BIRDIE!’.

Startled, you jump back and almost trip over, a jolt of fright flashing through your body. You look for the source of the fright. It was the Easter Island Head, he started laughing at your visible shock.

At least – you thought it was a he.

You roll your eyes at the giant immobile head. “Wow. Very funny Moai. Nice trick.”

The head grins at you widely, but his grin slowly fades when he notices you don’t seem very happy.

Even though Moai is literally a stone head stuck to a wall – Moai still notices your slumped posture and glum face. “What wrong, birdie?”

he had a very dumb-sounding voice. You knew you could just say ‘nothing’s wrong’, but then Moai would drag out this conversation forever. Moai loved to talk.

The complex and emo emotions within your mind, your loneliness and stuff, would probably be much too complicated for Moai’s cognitive understanding – so you try shorten it.

“I’m sad.”

His responses are limited to one or two words. “Why sad?”

Even though it’s ridiculous, there’s something quite endearing about Moai. Teddy and Larry ditched you – but here was this giant stone head that could only talk in fragments. He was your only company. Out of everyone in the museum. He was there for you.

You try speak clearly. “I have no friends Moai.”

He frowns. He takes a bit longer to process a response. “I am friend, birdie.”

Something about the way he says this almost makes you burst into tears. Honestly, you damn near start crying, just because you’re so fucking lonely, and your only friend is a talking head. Not Larry the actual person, not Theodore Roosevelt the president, not any of those crazy miniatures.

But a giant head.

You almost have a legit breakdown right there and then, but then a voice from downstairs calls for you. “Y/N! We’re down here!”

That’s Larry voice, and it’s a relief, you’re glad he hasn’t forgotten about you. Moai gently smiles at you. “See? Friend.”

You blow Moai a kiss in the air, and wave goodbye, before heading down the staircase and into the main foyer. Larry is standing next to Teddy. The two men turn around to look at you, as you nimbly stroll down the stairs. They just watch you.

Feeling abashed, you don’t say hi.

You don’t acknowledge them.

You simply walk right past them and over to the information desk.

It’s because they ditched you – that honestly did hurt your feelings. And now they were pretending like nothing happened? They just expect you to be all cool with it???? No way!

So you go over to the information desk and lean against the counter.

It’s not fair to just ditch a person like that.

You can hear them muttering to themselves, and then Larry Daley walks over to you. “Ok. Y/N. Please tell me what’s wrong. What happened?” Feeling vexed – you merely cross your arms and ignore him. You look at anything but him.

He places his hands on his hips. “Don’t do that. C’mon. Don’t give me the cold shoulder. Was it something I did?”

Still feeling annoyed, annoyed and betrayed, you continue to ignore him. Sitting down on the rolling chair behind the desk, you act all interested in the museum pamphlets. You hang your head so your pink hair drapes over your face.

At this point, Larry is starting to get desperate.

“C’mon, Y/N. I don’t want you to be mad at me. Please talk to me. Was it something I did? Hey – look – I’m sorry, ok? I’m sorry. Just talk to me, please. Seriously. You can’t keep this up forever.”

It’s sick – but you’re loving this torture. You want to see how despondent Larry will become.

Will he keep pushing or just give up?

So you still give him nothing. You even rest your head on the counter – withdrawing into yourself.

For a while there is deep silence.

Larry’s voice then finally cracks from desperation. “Please. Please talk to me. I’m really sorry.”

– And it wasn’t his mildly irritating puzzled voice, his voice had gone extremely soft and quiet. He sounded genuinely broken. It sounded like a plead for forgiveness. The change in tone was a shock.

The way he uttered the first ‘please’ was heartbreaking.

You look up – feeling very surprised and perplexed.

His face betrayed immense sadness and worry. It sends a stab of guilt to your heart. Maybe – just maybe – did Larry Daley actually care about you??? Like. Genuinely care? That was impossible!

Maybe Larry actually cared.

“Was it something I did?” He immediately repeats.

At this point your heart caves in.

Of course, you can’t stay angry forever, so you simply sigh. “It’s nothing. I’m not mad.”

“I’m not an idiot, Y/N. I know what the silent treatment is. Tell me. I can keep nagging at you the whole night. I was really freaking out about you. I was worried. So just tell me what it was.”

One of your wings was twitching, like a spasm, so you smacked at it. You loudly growled ‘Stop that!’ – like the wing could possibly understand you. 

Feeling both silly and emotionally-hurt at the same time, you force yourself to look at Larry. Something about the concern in his blue eyes forces you to soften.

“It’s fine. It’s just – you guys ditched me, ok? There. I said it. I felt abandoned. Unwanted. I was just mad because you and Teddy ditched me so fast. You guys left on the horse and I was just like, all forgotten about. And you didn’t even stop to check. It was like – fine then. Leave me. You don’t want me around. I’m by myself forever. No one even loves me.”

You try to keep your tone casual, but by the end of the sentence your words are hurtful and bitter. Larry’s expression turns even more guilty.

“Crap. I’m sorry, Y/N. You’re right. We shouldn’t have abandoned you like that. I would be mad too. I’m really sorry.”

Grinning at him – you try change topics. Change topic FAST. “That blonde cowboy was quite a handful, eh? Jedediah the cowboy.”

“Y/N. I’m really sorry, ok? I care about you. I shouldn’t have left you like that. I’m sorry.”

Teddy ambles over, with a shotgun in his hands. You immediately do a salute. “Sir yes sir!”

Teddy almost seems to grin, but then he just shakes his head. “Don’t act all cheeky with me, missy.”

“I wasn’t! honest!”

“What’s the problem, Lawrence? Was our feathered friend giving you trouble?” Now that you’re back to your warm, bubbly self, Larry smiles at you.

He can’t help but smile at you. And you smile back at him, gently resting your hand on his arm.

“No. She was just upset that we left her in the mall of miniatures. We should have stopped and waited. We should have checked.”

Teddy peers at you like he’s inspecting your soul. You squint your eyes at him. Two can play at this game. “That shouldn’t have been a problem! She’s much younger and more spry than us! She could race us in a heartbeat.”

You point a finger at Teddy. “Excuse me sir, I’m not the one with the horse. Get me my own horse and then we talk. I’m not the one with the horsepower. That’s not a fair comparison. It’s unfair.”

“Huh. What about using those brilliant wings of yours, missy?”

“But th-” You’re about to respond - when a super loud, reverberating roar, a friendly roar, this huge, huge noise sounds in your ears. You know that roar. The roar of your favorite friend.

Almost falling off your chair – you swivel around. Rexy just entered the room, wagging his tail at you, and only at you. He was your love. The light of your life.

“REXY! OH MY GOD! REXY!”

Not wasting even a second, you rush over, gliding across the floor.

When you get there Rexy immediately bumps his skeleton head into your chest. Giggling with happiness, you scratch at his jaw, not at all fazed by the huge dinosaur skeleton. Rexy was the exhibit you loved the most. Your best friend. He was always there for you.

“I was looking for you! Did you miss me!?”

He gives a little nudge to your head, you laugh playfully. “Aww. I love you too. Have you played fetch yet?”

he nods his head towards Larry, who is watching with surprise. Beaming at Rexy, you pat his skeleton. “I heard you scared the heck out of him.”

Rexy grins sheepishly, his tail between his legs. “That’s ok. I scared him too. Don’t worry. He’s a nice guy – he’s not like those old nightguards. You remember those assholes?” Rexy rests his giant skeleton chin upon your head. His little skeleton arms try to hug you but fail.

“I love you, Rexy.”

“Y/N if you want to stay with us, you’ll have to keep moving! There’s a quest to complete!” Teddy calls this out and you’re very disappointed. You give Rexy one last pat.

“I’m really sorry, but I have to go now. I’ll come back later, ok?” Rexy does a little growl of sadness, but he understands that you’re not leaving forever. He nudges your head one last time.

You walk back over to the guys, Larry Daley still has this permanently dumb-struck look on his face. Like he’s caught up in the middle of a fever dream. Was it because of your feathered wings or what? Hysterically, you laugh at him. This was crazy.

“Don’t look at me like that. I know I’m fabulous.”

“I was just-”

“What are we doing now? Getting revenge on that blonde cowboy? Count me in!”

“Lawrence here wants to know why exactly us exhibits come to life.”

“The magic tablet.” You summarized.

“Can you elaborate a little more on that?”

“Follow us.”

Teddy starts the journey, and you trail along, with Larry in tow. Teddy makes you nervous. Theodore freaking Roosevelt. Obviously he is a very famous person, a very significant historical figure, big reputation and everything. He makes you feel intimidated. You wouldn’t dare speak back to him.

You hang back with Larry, fiddling with the cuffs of your blouse. It feels like a lifetime has already transpired for you. But it’s only been a week. And tonight has been chaos.

What would happen next?  

Larry says something unexpected - “That little Jedediah was really shocked when he saw you, Y/N. I think it really had an impact on him. The way he was just staring at you..................”

“He was so mean to me! And I didn’t do anything to him!”

“Well. He’s a cowboy, right? That’s just what cowboys are like. Mean. Tough. Masculine. Don’t talk about their feelings.”

A smile taints your lips. “I like the little Roman. He wasn’t so bad. He was sweet.”

Larry looks curious. “Hey. You never actually explained to me – are you not supposed to be an Angel? I thought you were.”

He glances at your feathered wings. Your gorgeous white wings, which are so big, that even when you have them neatly folded together, the bottom feathers reach the ground and drag past your feet. Sometimes it was a lot to take in. almost always people would stare at you.

Especially since you were new here.

“Nope. So the story is – the museum held this like game promotion thing where visitors could design their own exhibit. It was like cast your vote in a hat type of thing. People wrote down crazy suggestions. Like make the exhibit’s skin green. Or give them an extra head. Or a hundred pairs of fingers. But most people wrote down wings. So that’s what I am. I’m that suggestion.”

“Wow. So you could have looked completely different.”

“Yeah. I could have looked absolutely hideous. Like a monster.”

“But you don’t. You look beautiful.”

“Thanks. The thing is though – I’m not an actual person. I’m not a historical figure. I’m an idea that people wrote down. A concept. I had an existential freak-out about it. I’m like a made-up thing.”

“That doesn’t matter though, right? Lots of the things here aren’t actual people. Like the Easter Island Head. That’s just a Head.”

“He is a very amusing head. Don’t take him for granted.”

“Hey. I can’t even imagine the reaction Dr. McPhee would have. I mean if he saw you. Walking around. With your wings. It would knock the look off his face. He would be shocked.”

“Who’s that?” “The museum curator. The boss. Like the Topmost person in charge.”  

“Huh. He probably helped in the process of designing me. He must have been involved.”

“God. If I could like – somehow convince him to come here at nighttime. Even though he wouldn’t believe me. And he saw you, Y/N, approaching him. It would be insane. He would pass out or something. I’m just saying it would be crazy. I know it would freak him out. I’m sure of it. He’s this super up-tight, mean-spirited guy – but I’m sure it would have an impact on him.”

“By the sound of things, he seems like an asshole. I’d prefer not to meet him.” 

You then go silent, because you’ve entered the section of the museum that’s the spookiest. The ancient Egypt section. On the fourth floor.

It’s quiet here, almost none of the exhibits ventured here, unless they were feeling particularly bored. People stayed away.

“Guys. This place give me the creeps.” You whisper. Teddy and Larry both glance at you.

And it was true – something about this place made the feathers of your wings shiver and recoil. There was just something in the air. Something was off. It didn’t feel good.

“What would an angel have to be scared of?” Teddy asks.

“I told you, I’m not a-“

And that’s when the screaming started. It was muffled, but still super loud, someone was screaming their lungs out, a wild scream of desperation. The horrible sound echoed down the hallway, bouncing off the walls.

“WHAT THE HELL??” You cry, clamping your hands over your ears. Kneeling on the floor, you feel fucking terrified.

Teddy sees the look of horror on your face. He softens a little bit.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. It’s just the Mummy. He can’t hurt you.”

Glancing at the hieroglyphics and illustrations of Egyptians on the walls, gulping, you just about run away. Turn and run the hell away from here. But Larry is giving you this very worried look, and Teddy doesn’t give a shit about the screaming, so you try to put on a brave face. You try put on your big-girl pants.

Even though the sound was almost unbearable.  

“OK. I’m fine. I’m just – I wasn’t expecting that. I’m OK now.”

“Good girl!” Teddy marches into a separate chamber on the right – where the screaming is issuing from.

You can’t help but smile at Larry. “I told you this place was full of crazies. Crazies and assholes.”

Larry is giving you this look. The meaning isn’t clear. There was this look in his eyes............ it made you want to cry. He was so worried about you – the look made your heart shatter. And he only met you about an hour ago. “Are you sure you’re ok, Y/N?”

“I’m fine and I’m ready to fight that blonde cowboy when I get a chance.”

Trying not to throw up, you swallow down your emotions and enter the Egyptian Chamber. The first thing you notice is the rattling sarcophagus placed at the far end of the room. The golden-encased Mummy within is rattling very loudly, trapped under the stone slab. You would rather die than be trapped in there all night.

“Maybe we should let him out.” You suggest.

“So he can curse us all with a thousand plagues?”

“I’m sure if we’re the ones to let him free, then he would show us good grace. He would be thankful. And he would repay us with a reward.”  

The mummy continued to scream, it was stressing you so bad you were on the verge of a breakdown. No one deserved to be trapped. No room to move. No room to even breathe.

“Yell all you want Pharaoh! You’ve been in there fifty-four years you’re not coming out tonight!” Maybe it was just a coincidence, but then the Egyptian Mummy shut up, he continued to rattle around but stopped screaming. He was trapped. There was no way out. 

You took very shaky breaths as Larry pulled out his flashlight. He aimed it at the large golden tablet attached to the wall. The tablet glistened and sparkled in the artificial light. It was divine and beautiful. Majestic.

“There’s the source of all this commotion. The Tablet Of Ahkmenrah. Arrived here 1952 from the Nile Expedition.” Teddy’s voice lowered into a whisper. “On that night everything in the museum came to life. And every night since.”

You, Teddy, and Larry share a whimsical look. A grin slowly creeps across your face. It was cool. Awesome, one might say. Even the mummy seems to pause for a moment. Like he knows.

“So everything in the museum comes to life, every night?”

“Exactly.”

Larry is aghast. “And I’m supposed to do what now?”

“Try not to lose your mind.” You suggest.

“You’re the night watchman, Lawrence. A vulnerable position in this institution.” There’s a long, strange silence. Complete quiet. Not even the Mummy was rattling around. Teddy then does a loud jumpscare, shocking both you and Larry. “Hey! Don’t do that!”

“Got you, boy! C’mon, lad. And you too, young missy.”

Teddy swings his shotgun over his shoulder, marching forward with his usual dominance. Larry tries to keep pace. You’re rolling your eyes. Something chaotic was always going on. Could never catch a break in this place. All the exhibits were legit crazy.

And the Egyptian Mummy was the scariest of them all.

“But- this is impossible.”

“Nothing is impossible! If it can be dreamt, it can be done! Hence the 20-foot jackals staring at you right now.” You look over at the humongous Egyptian statues, both were carrying spears. There was something oddly creepy about their blank faces. Not hostile. Just very creepy.

They both gazed down at you, noticing something wasn’t quite right – that you had wings.

“Y/N! Don’t make eye contact!”

Something snapped at your psyche. This place was too much. You desperately raced forward, pushing past Teddy, anxious to get out of that Egyptian tomb. If you spent one more second with that horrible, trapped mummy – tears would stream from your eyes.

This place was getting to you. It made you want to cry. Your giant wings were fluttering as you raced down the hallway, far away from that disturbed sarcophagus.

The two men are pretty shocked by your sudden panicked motion. They look at you like ‘Has she lost her mind??’ Standing in the hallway, your feathered wings were shaking.

Creepy as hell. That Egyptian tomb. Upsetting.

A nightmare.

pretending to act all bored, you try play it off. “Teddy! Can I try hold your shotgun?”

“What for Missy?”

“I just want to know what it feels like.” Teddy eyes you suspiciously. But you make a grabbing motion with your hands, like a little kid pleading for ice-cream. Like ‘gimme gimme’. He relents. He hands the shotgun over to you, you’re surprised by how heavy it is.

It’s long and sleek, you put a hand on the barrel and a finger around the trigger. You adjust it slightly so the gun is more comfortable over your arm. “Wow! This is so cool! A real gun!”

“Don’t shoot yourself in the foot, missy.”

You aim the gun at Larry, aligning the very end of the barrel with his head. He yelps and darts out the way. You laugh.

“Don’t worry Larry. I’m not going to shoot you. If I was going to shoot anyone, it would be Atilla. God. I hate those Huns. They always try to chase after me. It’s so annoying.”

You just about make a dark joke and turn the shotgun so it’s aiming at your head. And make a super dark sound effect like ‘bang!’.......................

But something tells you Larry and Teddy wouldn’t react very well to that.

You gently lower the shotgun, thinking it would be cool if you had your own props and gadgets to fiddle with. Like a gun or a sword or a lasso or something. If only you had a horse. That would be so awesome.  And you could ride the horse around.

Teddy had a horse. And a shotgun. Teddy could do anything he wanted. It wasn’t fair.

It always struck you just how professional Teddy was. He was so authoritative. He was a leader. He always knew what to do, he was in charge. Sometimes your mind slipped into thinking he was the real person – and not just a wax mannequin.

And unlike the others – he actually had a degree of common sense.

“Now. Y/N has calmed down, so we can finally finish the mission.”

“I was calm!”

“No you weren’t. I could see your white wings were shaking.”

“That chamber is freaky, ok!? I hate it in there. There’s something about that place.”

“Lawrence, I will help you restore order tonight. But believe me, that’s the last time I will ever do so. Is that clear?” Larry himself is having some second thoughts about this.

“Uh – well- um- I suppose.”

“Stop babbling boy!” Teddy barks, gruff as always.

“Yes sir!”

“Good! And oh, one more thing. Your job is to make sure no one escapes the museum. Because if anyone is outside and the sun rises in the sky, we turn to dust.”

“You turn to dust?”

“Dust.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

For a second the men forget you were there. Growing bored, you try to slip away from them, slinking down the corridor. Maybe go find Rexy again. It just about worked. “Y/N! Where are you walking of to? Trying to be all sneaky!” Teddy calls out, making you jump.

“I was just-”

Then you suddenly remember something. The camera!

You had dropped that object, that technology from the outside world. Dammit! How could you have forgotten about it?? And you needed it back. It was important to you. It felt like yours.

You race over to Larry, rapidly tugging at his arm. Like a hyperactive child. All manic and bursting with energy. He laughs a little. “Woah. Hey. Hey. Calm down. What is it?”

“I lost that thing!”

“What thing?”

Hysterically, you wave your arms around. Teddy stares at you like you’ve lost your mind. “Help!!! The thing visitors use to take photos! Help! Larry! I need it! The small object!”

“You mean the camera? I think it’s in the hall of miniatures. On the bench.”

“I’ll go get it! Don’t wait up!” Not wasting a second, you chaotically race away, speeding so fast you almost trip and fall flat on your face. In hysterics. You don’t even stop to think it through, you just run, even though Larry is calling for you to hold on. This wasn’t a want. It was a need.

That camera was your one connection to the outside world. It was simply priceless.

As you zoom through the hallways, you recall the miniatures live on the second floor. That would mean using an elevator. Luckily, you had enough brains to work this out. All you had to do was press the button labeled number 2.

You’re running so fast, that you literally slide across the floor, bumping into the wall. Forcing yourself to stay still, you manage to press the button and enter inside. A delirious laugh burst forth from your lips. This was crazy. To get the camera - you would have to face the cowboy and the Roman and all of the little guys again.

Those little bitches. Annoying little twerps.

What tactic would you use?

Fight your way through them to try retrieve the camera, or try and negotiate a deal with them? The blonde cowboy that feuded with you – boy – he was just something else. That cowboy was legit scary.

But the Roman wasn’t so bad. That Roman was reasonable enough. Maybe if you explained to him ‘please – I need it’ – maybe the little roman would understand your desperation. Feeling nervous and sweaty, you wipe your hands on your trousers.

The elevator dinged, and you stumbled out, looking around. The hallway was empty. Maybe you could just grab the camera and bolt.

So you sprinted around the corner, and then fell upon a horrible, horrible sight.

The hall of miniatures had erupted into chaos.

Everywhere, scattered on the floor and in dioramas, the little cowboys and Romans were fighting each other. Swords were out, punches were thrown, cowboys on horses jabbing Romans in the back, Romans firing arrows at anything that moved. It was absolutely insane. Sheer madness.

“HOLY SHIT.” You were aghast, your mouth falling wide open. It was unbelievable. And at the very edge of it, closest to you – Jedediah and Octavius were fighting over the camera.

They both had a corner of the camera, and were tugging it back and forward, trying to claim it as their own. They were shouting at each other.

“The bird-girl dropped it! And I’m the one who captured her! So let go! Give me the darn’ thing! It’s mine! It’s mine ya’ stinkin’ cape wearing jerk!!!”

“She liked me better! Her loyalty is with me! You have no dominion over the Romans!”

“Hey! What the FUCK is going on here!?!?” You exclaim this, it escaped your lips without thinking about it.

Shocked – Jedediah and Octavius both drop the camera, turning to face you. Your eyes are wide as you just stare at them. And still all the cowboys and Romans were fighting.

For a moment there is silence as the miniatures just blink at you.

You blink back at them.  

Octavius is scandalized. “What appalling language! It’s not very becoming of a young lady to swear like that!”

You’re speechless, literally dumbfounded, and don’t know what to say. And before you can properly respond, some of the western cowboys tie rope around your ankles. Just like the previous time. For the second time tonight, the little bastards trip you over deliberately.

But this time your reaction isn’t fast enough – you suddenly hit the floor.

Your head smacked against the ground with a gruesome, nasty noise. Like a cartoon character you see stars. And then everything goes black.

Knocked out.

And then you die!

Nah. Just kidding.

Of course – you were technically alive – technically you did have a consciousness, and that consciousness could be taken away. And with this sudden smack-to-the-head – your state of awareness was taken away. It knocked your lights out.

But you weren’t technically human.

You didn’t have a pounding heart, or functioning nerve cells, or any other physical nuances. For an actual human – this head knock would have probably have meant death – thick red blood pouring out from their skull, leaking out all over the floor.

But that wasn’t you. Not exactly.

The magic tablet wouldn’t have allowed a brutal death like that. Even though your head had slammed against the ground, with a horrible jackhammer sensation, it didn’t entail your death. Because you couldn’t actually die.

For you, this head-knock only meant pain and nausea. You couldn’t die – but you could still feel pain.

A lot of it.

You’re completely blacked-out for a few minutes, not a single thought, not a twitch of your hand.

But of course, you’re only just an exhibit, made from some wax, craft feathers and glue.

So after a few minutes, the magic that sustains you, slowly eases you back to life. Your consciousness is slowly reinstated. At first you feel something being jabbed at your cheek, something sharp. But that wasn’t the main problem here. The main problem was a sudden, horrible pain in your head, a dizziness causing your mind to swim.

It felt suffocating. Whether you had a wax brain or not it didn’t matter – it felt like someone was drilling into your head, sending shards of agony spiking into your skull.

Like it was coming through a tunnel – you faintly hear a voice. “Oh goodness gracious. Did we just kill her?”

The pain in your head was so bad, it seemed to diminish everything else in the background. Your thoughts were sluggish, you really couldn’t tell what just happened – the pain was tearing apart your mind – for a second you couldn’t even remember where you were.

“She’s an exhibit, toga boy. She can’t die.”

“Jedediah she’s not moving. Did you not hear the sound of her head hitting the floor?? It looked like she dropped dead!”

“Ok. So maybe her lights are out for a bit. But she’ll be just fine. She’ll wake up soon enough.”

“I didn’t think she was going to collapse like that! I thought she would have stopped the fall!”

There are panicked voices surrounding you, your head was swimming so bad. It was almost hard to describe. It felt like your mind was splintered apart into separate fragments – and each fragment was encompassed in a horrible pain.

It felt like the entire world was spinning.

Your mind – your mind was in a spasm.

Your senses weren’t there, exactly. Your state of consciousness came only from the sensation of complete dizziness, of a sickening nausea. It took you a while – with your mind swimming – to process what had just happened.

The Cowboys had tripped you over. And you had hit your head. Not like a simple, light knock. Like your head had smacked gruesomely against the ground – and it had been brutal – you hadn’t even used your hands to cushion the fall. And now your head hurt so badly – with waves of dizziness rolling across your body.

Was that even possible? Why wasn’t the pain going away? When would the suffering stop?

“Jedediah she’s not moving. She’s not moving. She hit her head pretty badly. Jedediah. Help.”

You felt, through the haze of pain and confusion, the sensation of someone tugging at your finger. The pain from your head was so sickening – you kept your eyes shut. It felt like your brain could implode and explode at the exact same time.

“Please wake up. Please wake up.” You heard the words, but didn’t dare respond, less you legitimately threw up from the nausea and dizziness. Probably puke your guts out.

Agony.

The agony of this moment was astounding.

The cowboy’s voice grew shrill. “Gosh darn’ it! We’re gonna’ to be in so much trouble!”

“Why isn’t she waking up?? Dammit Jedediah what did you do!?! What did you do to her!??!!”

Voices somewhere within the vicinity sounded quite hysterical. Even then – it barely registered with you.

The pain from your head was so loud and bright. Laying there on the floor, with your head ringing, you sure as hell wanted to die. It felt like a giant was squeezing at your skull, playing with your brain like it was made from Play-Doh. It felt like you were spinning madly, like out on a boat at sea, even then your body was very, very still, sprawled out on the floor.

You didn’t even feel like yourself. There was no ‘you’. It was just the pain.

Someone was tapping on your cheek. The cowboy’s voice was close.

“Hey. Hey. Wake up. Wake up now. Bird-girl. You can wake up. You hit your head. But you can wake up. It’s time to get up. I’m sorry, ok? Wake up. Don’t keep us waiting. It’s ol’ Jedediah. Jed wants you to wake up. Can you hear me? Ol’ Jedediah wants you to get up. Don’t keep an’ cowboy waiting.”

With his little hand, the cowboy was repeatedly jabbing at your cheek. His voice was super low and scared – not like it usually was.

He was panicking.

Jedediah never panicked about anything.

But you couldn’t respond. The pain had ensnared you too tightly. You felt the little pitter-patter of shoes, someone was running along your wings, and then you felt little shoes on your shoulder. You wanted to scream – or cry – or throw up – or die - or something – but you just lay there, wishing for it all to end.

“She’s not waking up! Octavius! I’m trying! She’s not responding! It’s not working! I don’t even know if she can understand me!!” Jedediah cried this out, a definite note of desperation in his voice.

Octavius sat down on your shoulder. You were lying collapsed, flat on your stomach, sprawled out on the floor, your huge wings limply draping to the sides. Your head was pressed against the ground.

Pitiful and pathetic.  

If you had been fully alive – a real person – there would be a horrible pool of sticky-red blood soaked all around the base of your skull – glowing crimson in the luminescent light.

“Go get help Jedediah! I’ll stay here with her! Go find help!”

“What!? Help from where??! She could be dead!”

“Dammit Jedediah! This is not the time! Just go! Go find that nightguard! If she’s dead then the blame falls on you! You’ll be in a heap of trouble!! So much trouble!! Just go! Go find help! Don’t come back until you’ve found some help!! If she doesn’t wake up the blame falls on you!”

“Ok! Just give me a second! Try to wake her up!!”

You feel the little Roman slide off your shoulder and onto the floor. The dizziness was starting to subside. Just a little bit. Enough for you to properly breathe. enough so that it felt like you weren’t going to throw up.

Painfully, you open your eyes and blink at the Roman.

“Oh, good! You’re not dead!” he was staring at you – but you couldn’t do much than just stare back.

It was like physically you couldn’t process all the pain. It still felt like your skull was being drilled into. The Roman just stared at you for a while – just glad, for one thing, that you weren’t actually dead. It hurt. Your head. Truly. It did. Even though you were made from some wax or whatever. It hurt so bad.

Tears of pain suddenly watered in your eyes.

One single, solitary tear rolled down your cheek and dripped onto the floor. That was all you could manage.

The Roman notices this – and his expression suddenly changes. The brief look of relief is suddenly snatched away. The Roman is super worried. He’s worried. It all happened so fast. And now you were in so much pain. The Roman looks stricken. He looks grim.

“Oh no. Please don’t cry. Please don’t cry. Can you tell me what’s wrong? Where does it hurt? Are you in pain? Please try talk to me. I’ll try help. I’m here for you. I won’t leave you. Where does it hurt? Are you able to speak?”

All you can think about is how embarrassing this situation really is. The image of Larry floats through your feverish, distorted mind. He can’t see you like this.

Out. You wanted out.

Out of this body. Out of this existence. Out of the pain. You wanted it just to stop.

More tears leak from your eyes and onto the floor. It’s like – you’re literally trapped – you feel like you can’t move.

The Roman is pretty fucked-up about this. It’s getting to him. The Roman is distressed.

He’s panicking.

The Roman was freaking out.

The Roman was frightened.

“Are you all right? Please stop crying. Please tell me what’s wrong. I’m here for you. I want to help. What’s the matter? Can you speak? Are you in pain? Is there anything I can do? Jedediah went to get help. I’m really worried about you. I feel terrible. I saw the way you hit the floor. You knocked your head pretty bad. Can you talk? Can you explain what’s wrong? Please talk to me.”

You force yourself to take a few pathetic, shaky breaths.

Through the haze of pain, your addled mind tried to think of something that could cheer you up. And then your disturbed, disheveled mind thought of Moai.

Moai.

Moai had been nice to you. Moai wasn’t cruel – or mean – Moai didn’t try chase you around the halls or send you crashing to the floor or bother you in any other way. You weren’t going to die like this – collapsed on the ground - not without seeing Moai one last time.

Through the strong delirium – the image of Moai gently smiling at you was like the light at the end of the tunnel. Thinking about Moai – and Rexy – and even Dexter – thinking about your friends gave you the strength to try fight through the pain. You didn’t want to lay here sprawled out on the floor – not when Rexy was strolling around the museum somewhere – waiting for you to come back.

Rexy needed you.

And you needed to tell him how much you loved him.

With an absolutely supreme effort, you forced yourself to nod your head at the Roman – a sign that you were trying to stay awake. Fight through. You had to try fight through this. Fight through the pain. There was no other way. The figments of your soul were almost shattered – but you had to try mold them back together again.

The Roman was so desperate to try help you. He could see that you were struggling. “Ok. Ok. Don’t black out again. Look at me. How many fingers am I holding up?”

Your vision was blurred and your mind was swimming. But you tried to focus on his little hand. “Five.” You croaked out the answer.

The Roman gulped loudly. “Oh, dear. That’s not good.”

A weak laugh, barely-there, managed to escape your lips. “Sorry. Was that not right?”

“Not at all.”

You were starting to feel less sick, but at the same time, you didn’t dare move. The pain was slowly ebbing away – just a little bit – enough for you to try wrangle in your feverish, shattered thoughts.

You tried to compose your mind – tried to bring it back to something like a cognitive coherence.

You moved your head a fraction of an inch – it was a start.

It was almost unbearable – but you forced yourself to keep fighting.

“Are you feeling ok? Are you feeling pain?” The Roman questions this – staring at you with such a worried look – it was almost overwhelming.  

You force the words out. “Um. My – my head hurts.”

“How bad is it?”

You can’t bring yourself to respond. You didn’t even have enough energy to say ‘it’s bad’. You just limply lay there on the floor. Like a corpse at a crime scene. A sack of dead meat.

The Roman walks over and gently tugs at your finger. “Hey. Stay with me now. Don’t black out again.”

Your vision had been riddled with black spots. But now that your vision is clearing up, you can actually see all the minuscule details of his face. And he looks very concerned. He’s still got his Roman helmet on. The Roman was sad. His face was full of sorrow and fear. He looked all serious. The Roman was especially worried. 

And he’s trying to tug at your finger.

It’s at this exact moment that you realize the Roman is not an asshole. He seemed a bit derpy and aloof – but he was a good guy. He could have just abandoned you and left you to die – but he didn’t. he had stuck around. And he was trying to help.

The thoughts flicker in your messed-up mind. The blonde cowboy – he too had been pretty shocked – he had reacted with some emotion to you blacking out.

Maybe the cowboy wasn't a psychopath after all. 

You had completely passed out.

And you knew if Rexy had been here – Rexy would have been absolutely fucked-up – nudging at your side, trying to scare you awake, freaking out about his best friend. Rexy would have been the most concerned of all.

The Roman was still rambling words. “Stay with me. I am a Roman and I command you to stay awake. You must listen to the Romans. And I am a great deal older than you. By about two-thousand years. ”

You giggle hysterically. “Aww. You’re so sweet. I like you.” The pain is starting to get better – even though your mind feels like mush. The Roman prods at your hand. You stare at his little face – his dark brown hair and sophisticated eyes.

It was the only thing you had the strength to do. Just stare and stare. Until the pain washes away.

The Roman stands diligently by your shoulder, as you yourself just lay there on the ground. As you stare at him, your muddled mind realizes he’s one of the few actually human exhibits in this place – and he could speak English, as well. He was an actual person. Would he want to be your friend?

Your heart ached so bad. You wanted friends. Someone to care about you.

The Roman stated something in a slow, measured voice - “I understand that you’re in pain right now, but soon you’ll have to get up before the sun rises. You can’t be seen like this.”

“I don’t want to go!”

“Darling, they put a lot of effort into creating you. You can’t be here like this. You’ll have to go back to your podium. And get back in position.”

Smiling, you just gaze at the little Roman. “Wait a sec. Did you just call me ‘darling’???”

He mumbles a little bit. “It’s how us Romans show affection.”

“I don’t want to go! Lemme stay here. I’ll just lay here. Lemme. Stay.”

“No, my dear, I can’t. You can’t be here like this. It's not right. You can just wait until the pain goes away – but eventually you’ll have to get up. Where is your podium?”

This makes you so upset.

He had been so nice to you – trying to assist you - and now he just wanted you to fuck off????

That was the worst part. No one wanted you around.

You turn your head away from The Roman. “Leave me alone.”

He prods at your hand again. He immediately regrets what he said.

“No. don’t do that. Please don’t be mad at me. I just want you to be ok. If they see you here like this you’ll be in big trouble. I didn’t at all mean to offend or upset you. Darling, please talk to me. I just want to help. Here – I’ll tell you what – you can stay here now until the sun’s about to rise. I don’t want to you to be mad. Darling. Please look at me. Please don’t ignore me. Are you feeling better?”

His voice is laced with pain. And it reminds you about the moment with Larry – ignoring him, looking away from him – and how Larry’s psyche had almost shattered because he was so desperate. This makes you feel incredibly guilty.

You turn back to the Roman.

The look in his eyes was devastating.

Suddenly, you feel like venting out to him, blurting out all your frustrations and sadness for the Roman to listen. The Roman was right over there. Maybe if you told him about all the hurt you felt – maybe the Roman would help you feel better. Maybe he could give you a hug. Make it all go away.

“Sorry. I’m not mad. I just – I feel like no one cares about me.”

“I do, my darling! I care about you very much! And I felt extremely guilty about how you knocked your head. It looked terrible! I was very, very worried about you! I’m here to help. I’m here. How is the pain? Is it getting better?”

“Yeah. It’s going away.”

Your pink hair was fanned out all across the floor, draping over your head and shoulders. Simply put, you were still just lying on the ground. 

You’re starting to regain feeling in your body, and you try twist your arm around. It feels like pins and needles – but with a shot of burning fire. “Fuck! That hurt. Ouch ouch ouch.”

“Language, my dear!” He cries out.

The Roman doesn’t like you swearing. Weakly, you smile at him. He smiles back. It’s a charming and goofy smile. You try to grasp his name but you can’t remember. Obviously, he was still a Roman. Your distorted mind can tell that much. Romans were like........... Ancient. He was from the history books.

He was a Roman. But wait a second. What exactly was a Roman? He was from ancient times.

He had this slightly derpy way about him, but he was a Roman, and he was so close, close enough to touch.

“Sorry if I’m acting like a bitch.” You mutter.

“Um. I don’t know what the word means.”

“Sorry if I’m acting all mean and pathetic.”

“No. you were in a lot of pain. I understand. I just want you to feel better. The way you collapsed and knocked your head was horrible. A real person might’ve died from it. It was really awful.”

“Mr. Roman?” you ask.

“Yes, my darling?”

“Can you help me get up?”

he looks extremely awkward. “Um. I don’t think I’m the right size to help with that. I’m two inches tall.”

You sigh.

Twisting your legs around, most of your body still felt numb. Numb and frozen. You couldn’t even move your feathered wings. “Are my wings still attached?” The Roman walks over, and you could very faintly feel him tugging at one of the feathers. But just barely.

“Yes. You still have your wings. Can you actually fly with these? Or is it just for appearance purposes?”

The Roman tries to lift up the left corner of your wings, and examine the white feathers, and the way all the feathers were interconnected, but the wing was too heavy for him. He lets it go.

Your words were scrambled.

“Yes. Fly. I mean – I can fry. I need – I need to get up. Need to get up or else I’m screwed.”

“Jedediah went to go find that nightguard. He’ll be able to assist you. And then you can go back to your podium in time for the sunrise.”

You start giggling hysterically.

It was a mad, delirious sound.

What the hell happened to you?

Just an hour ago, you had been fine, strolling around the museum with Larry. Now you were laying like a dead corpse on the floor, all sprawled out like a starfish, numbly talking to a Roman figurine from 14 A.D or whenever the hell it was.

Romans were real, weren’t they? Yes. They were real.

The Roman. He was right over there. And he was real. And he was a handsome little Roman. The Roman wasn't proud or vain. 

All you wanted. Was for The Roman to give you a hug.

If The Roman showed you some genuine care. Then everything would be just fine.

You gently reach out your finger and touch the little Roman on his shoulder. He softly holds onto your finger.

He’s not as loving as Rexy, but he’s still much nicer than everyone else. Like Atilla and his Huns and the dumb Neanderthals and those old asshole nightguards and that God-damned blonde cowboy Jedediah.

Again, you giggle hysterically. “Mr. Roman. I call you Mr. Roman. You are Mr. Roman.”

“Darling, my name is Octavius. And you’re Y/N, right?”

“Mr. Roman.” You repeat. Like a little kid who only knew how to say one word.

He stares at you.

You can’t stop giggling hysterically – his red cape and helmet starts swimming around in your vision. Your mind still feels like mush. Literal mush. And then you start shaking, for some reason.

Shaking like you had a fever. Shaking like you were gripped by a sickness.

But then it stops. The pain drains away. It wasn’t even pain. Just sadness.

You mutter something along the lines of ‘I’m fine’ – but the Roman gives you a look. He clearly sees through this lie. You just want the Roman to give you a kiss and make everything feel better.

Just one kiss.

Why wasn’t the Roman giving you a hug? If the Roman gave you a hug, then all the pain and the sorrow and the loneliness – all of those hurtful emotions would just melt away – if only the Roman could genuinely embrace you. Through the haze – you stare into the Roman’s glistening eyes.

And he silently stares back.

The Roman. He was right there.

The relief is almost sickening when you hear a sudden voice call out ‘Y/N! Are you ok?? What the heck happened!?”

Octavius jabs at your cheek. “Darling, the nightguard is here. He can help you up. And there’s Jedediah. I’ll make sure he apologizes to you. Here they come.”

You hear the boys rush over, but you don’t have the energy to face them right now. You just want to shrink into a hole and disappear. Fade out from existence. You didn’t want to see that little cowboy. You didn’t want to see Larry’s expression of worry.

You didn’t want to go through this same terrible routine every night -

Wake up. Do nothing. Feel alone. Feel unwanted. Rinse and repeat.

In exhaustion, you close your eyes. Block out the world. Make it all go away.

Diminish the pain – pretend like it wasn’t there.

If only Rexy was here to comfort you.....................................

Chapter Text

Someone.

You could sense someone standing over you, you could tell someone was peering down at your limp, sprawled-out form. You were too tired to form a coherent response. So, all you did was, you raised your hand, and you gave whoever it was a meek thumbs-up.

It was Larry Daley. And he was very concerned.

“Y/N! What the heck happened? Why are you lying on the floor like that?”

Octavius, who was still standing by your shoulder, immediately spoke up on your behalf. “It was Jedediah! Some of Jedediah’s cowboys tied rope around her ankles and then tripped her up! I assure you, I had nothing to do with it!”

“Hey! You can’t just pin all the blame on me, toga boy!”

Larry leaned down closer to you, wrapping his hand around your arm. You felt much, much better now – the nausea and dizziness had subsided. The pain had reduced into a dull ache. Even though you still felt quite shaky, it was much better than a few minutes ago.

“Y/N. Are you alright? Can you stand up?”

For time first time in quite a while, your mind felt much clearer and less fogged with pain. You felt super tired, but the agony of the physical fall was draining away. You were ok now.

“Yep. I can stand. I just – my legs feel numb. Just give me a second.”

Octavius continues to explain, wanting Larry to have the full story.

“After Jedediah’s cowboys tripped her up, she hit her head really badly. She blacked out for a substantial amount of time. It was pretty awful to witness. And she was pretty upset. I stayed here to comfort her.”

Larry makes a ‘hmph’ sounding noise.

“Jedediah. Did you do that on purpose? That’s really not cool, man. You shouldn’t have done that to her.”

The cowboy was panicked.

“No, no, it wasn’t me, it was my guys! Some of my guys tripped her up! And I didn’t tell the boys to do that! It wasn’t my fault! I wouldn’t have done that to her!”

Octavius seems to do a long, grandiose sigh. “Jedediah, you could at least say sorry to her. She was in a lot of pain. You saw how bad it was. We thought she died, for a second.”

At this point you opened your eyes.

You blinked a few times, readjusting to the museum lights. You watched the blonde-haired cowboy approach you on the floor. His face looked racked with extreme guilt. He was twisting around his red bandana in his hands.

He looked pretty upset, to be honest.

“Hey. I’m really sorry my guys tripped you up. Bird-girl. I’m really sorry. This ol’ cowboy feels terrible about what happened. Ol’ Jedediah wants to apologize. Sorry, bird-girl. Jedediah says sorry.”

Lying on the museum floor, you give Jedediah a watered-down smile.

“It’s ok. I’m not mad at you, Jedediah. I think you’re the most handsome cowboy in the museum.”

He manages a small chuckle. “Heh. I’m sorry if I was treating you badly, bird-girl. Ol’ Jedediah wants to apologize. Ol’ Jedediah feels terrible about it.”

“No, seriously, it’s ok. I thank you guys for your concern. Thanks for helping me, Octavius.”

The little Roman does a bow. “Anything for you, my dear.”

Anxiously, Larry checked the watch on his wrist. Time was slipping away. “Ok, Y/N. it’s getting closer to sunrise. You should try get up now.”

“Ok. One sec. I’ll get up. Give me a second.”

With a shaky tremble, you press your palms against the floor, and manage to lift up your torso. You manage to lift yourself up into a sitting position, like a little kid sitting on a classroom floor.

Even this small action makes you feel a bit sick.

Larry extends a hand, and you take it. With surprising strength, he helps pull you to your feet, you wobble a little bit, feeling some dizziness. That head knock must have been pretty bad.

Larry gives you a look of great concern. The moment is just so absurdly pathetic, you almost laugh out loud.

“Are you feeling ok, Y/N?”

“Yeah. Just a little dizzy. But I’m ok. I’m ok, guys. I’ll be ok.”

“I need to double-check the Hall of American exhibits. Can you manage to walk there?”

“Yeah. Sure. I don’t think I’ve even been there before.” – turns out, there were areas of the museum you still hadn’t explored yet.

On the floor, the little Roman gives you a wave. “Well goodbye, Y/N! Please do take care of yourself! Try to get some rest!”

You wave at him, and the little cowboy is staring at you so sadly. The cowboy gives you such a sad stare. The sad look almost breaks your heart.

You blow the cowboy a kiss in the air, and in return, he gives you a very faint smile.

Then you walk away with Larry, trying not to have a complete mental breakdown. Long story short – this museum was a very stressful place. You’re a bit unsteady on your feet, swaying as you try to walk.

Larry stops and places a firm hand on your shoulder.

For some reason, you just can’t meet his eyes.

You can’t look at him properly.

He was real.

He was a real person unlike everything else in the museum, and he had a life, he had a home to return to, he could walk around in the sunlight during the day, there was real people he interacted with. He had the opportunity to do whatever he wanted. He was a real, living person.

Unlike you. You were just a museum exhibit.

You take a shaky breath - trying not to appear overly emotional and upset.

“Hey. Are you ok? What the heck happened back there, Y/N? Did those cowboys trip you up?”

You do a loud, hysterical laugh. You shake your head.

“Don’t worry about it, Larry. Seriously. It was nothing. I just hit my head on the floor. I blacked out for a while, that’s all.”

“You mean like a concussion?”

You snap your fingers. “Yes! That’s what it’s called! I hit my head and got a concussion. But I’m feeling ok now.”

He raises a quizzical eyebrow. “But - It looks like you’ve been crying.”

You give him a playful shove. “Oh come on, Larry. You don’t have to baby me. I’m not like a little kid. I’m not like a two-year-old.”

“I just – I was really worried about you, Y/N. The way you were just lying on the floor like that............ It looked very, very bad.”

You give him a small shrug of your shoulders. And a weak smile.

“I promise Larry, I’m ok now. Technically I can’t even die. The only way I can die is if I step out into the sun. rest assured, I’m feeling much better now.”

“Well. Ok. You can sit down for a while, if you want, just until the sunrise.”

“How long do we have left?”

He checks his watch. “About forty minutes.”

“Where’s Teddy?” You ask.

“He’s waiting for us in the hall.”

Luckily, the American hall is on the same level as the miniatures, you don’t have the strength to walk much further than that. When you get there - the first thing you notice – is that it’s quiet.

There was no screaming, or animals roaring, or crazy figurines running around.

You walk over and sit down on a bench, gazing around the hall.

In the one of the display panels, within a glass enclosure, there was a woman who appeared to be Native American.

She looked quite young, with long braided hair, donning a traditional, cloak-like dress.

She was staring at you. You realized that with a jolt.

She was staring at your feathered wings.

Even though she was far away, you could see the emotion on her face – shock.

You felt a tap on your shoulder, and turned around. It was Larry. “Well, everything is secure. I double-checked. Should we keep moving?”

“What? Huh? Seriously! But we just got there!”

You then point at the lady, who is still staring at you with a mix of amassment and surprise. “That lady is really pretty. I wonder what she does in there. I mean, behind the glass case.”

“I’m not exactly sure how to pronounce her name.”

Teddy walks over, cool and calm like always. You just stare at him. You’re too tired to even start a conversation. You just say nothing. You just stare. He can tell something is wrong.   

“What happened to you, missy?”

You laugh. “Oh, jeez. I’ve been through the ringer tonight.”

“How so?”

“She tripped and hit her head on the floor. The miniature cowboys tripped her up and she had a bad fall. It must have been pretty awful. One of the cowboys was panicking about it.”

“Yes, it was awful. I blacked for a while. I’m still feeling a bit shaky, even now.”

Teddy thumps you on the shoulder roughly. “I think you’ll live, Y/N!”

You grumble at him. “Whatever. I mean – it wasn’t good. It felt like I was going to die.”

“You just need a good day’s sleep, that’s all! And tomorrow night you’ll be as right as rain!”

Ignoring Teddy, you decided to stand up, and amble over to the Native American lady.

She smiled at you serenely, and you smiled back, giving her a little wave. You were struck by just how beautiful she was. She seemed like a nice person.

You look down at the infographic thing, which was titled ‘Sacajawea’. There was lots of information written, about her life and times.

“Wow. Sacajawea. That’s such a unique name. that’s so lovely. That’s a really nice name.”

She could notice that you were talking, and she seemed sad. She pointed at the glass, and then at her ear. You understood the message.

“Oh, no! You can’t hear me! Oh no. That’s horrible. I wish you weren’t stuck in there.”

From behind you, Teddy calls something out ‘Y/N, my dear! It’s time to go! Sunrise is almost upon us!’.

You give Sacajawea a little wave goodbye, and then hobble back over to the nightguard and the president. You felt bad for abandoning Sacajawea like that, but there wasn’t much you could do – she was stuck behind the glass.

Larry appears pretty tired. You couldn’t blame him for that – he had been dealing with the museum bullshit all night long. The exhibits here were legit crazy.

Your shoulders slump down, you couldn’t even hide how exhausted you were. Teddy notices this. “Do you want us to accompany you to your podium?”  

“No, it’s ok, I can walk. I just – it’s been a very long night.”

“Well, you go have a good rest, Y/N. You’ll feel better by tomorrow night. I can assure you, you’ll be right as rain.”

You turn towards Larry. He raises an eyebrow. “What is it?” He asks.

“Larry. You’re coming back tomorrow night, right? You’re not going to quit or anything. We’ll see you tomorrow, right? Are you going to come back again?”

He glances away from you, placing his hands in his pockets. He looks sheepish – like a little kid caught with their hand in a cookie jar.

He clears his throat. “Well – um – I’m not really sure. I mean, Y/N, this job is really stressful, and the pay could be a lot better......... I mean I didn’t expect any of this coming-to-life stuff. I might have to think it over.”

You hate appearing too clingy, but at the same time, there’s a note of desperation in your voice – “Larry. You’ve got to come back. I can’t – I don’t want to see those old asshole nightguards again. You should stick with the job. You should be the nightguard here.”

Teddy gives you a gentle pat on the shoulder. You’re not going to cry or anything – it’s just that – you hated those old jerkass nightguards.  

“Don’t worry, Y/N! I’m sure Lawrence here will stick with us. This job provides great enrichment for the soul! This job has great value! Lawrence here will consider that, won’t you, son?”

Larry nods hastily. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

You rub at your eyes – tired from a long night. “Well. I should head back to my podium. It was – it was nice to meet you, Larry. You seem like a nice guy. Nicer than Cecil and Gus and Reginald.”

Larry gives you a strange, lop-sided smile. Like he still thinks he’s in some sort of dream. Like he thinks he's going to wake up at any second, and when he wakes up, all this madness will be over.

"It was nice to meet you too, Y/N. Thanks for helping me out back there.”

You really want to say something to Larry, something helpful or sweet or really awe-inspiring.

Something to leave a strong impression on him.

But you can’t think of anything. Your mind just goes completely blank.

So, in the end, you simply wave goodbye to Larry, give Teddy an ironic salute, and then walk off, thankful that this night was almost over.

When you get to your podium, your last thought was ‘I hope Larry comes back’. Then you slip out of consciousness as the sun finally rises over New York.

-

The next night, you’re awoken by something tapping on your leg.

It takes you a while to fully regain your senses, just like how an actual person would slowly wake up.

During this time, you can feel something insistently tapping at your leg. You slowly open your eyes, and look down. It’s Dexter. Dexter the mischievous capuchin is jabbing at you, a wide grin on his face.

“Hey, Dexter. You got here pretty quick. I only just woke up.”

You step off your podium with a yawn.

Around you, you can hear conversation and various noises as the museum comes to life. You then smile at Dexter, using your finger to gently stroke at his head.

He gives your arm a soft pat. Staring at Dexter – you remember what happened last night.

“Hey. You weren’t very nice to that new nightguard, Dexter. Do you hate him or something?”

Dexter nods his head. You laugh. “Why do you hate him, Dexter? He seems fine enough to me.”

Dexter shakes his head, and pulls a face, like he’s trying to say ‘I just don’t like him’.

You frown at the monkey. “Well. Maybe you should give him a chance, Dex. Try act friendly for once. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Dexter crawls up your arm, and onto your shoulder. His gives your face a playful slap – that’s his signature move.

You laugh, even though the slap stings a little bit.

While you liked Dexter a lot - sometimes the antics could get annoying.

Gently, you pick Dexter up and slide him off your shoulder. He plops down onto the floor.

“It was nice seeing you, Dexter. But you should run along now. I don’t want you to get into trouble.” The monkey grins at you. And then he skittles off, running surprisingly fast on his short legs.

You brush a hand through your long pink hair, and dust some lint off your trousers.

You put your hands in your pockets, looking around the museum hallway.

It was empty.

Then you remembered – you had made a friend last night. Larry Daley.

You realized then, that if Larry had come back, he would be around here somewhere. Maybe he was waiting for you.

You started walking down the hallway, hoping, praying, that Larry had returned.

In that exact moment, you heard your name being called.

“Y/N! Are you up there!? I’m in the main foyer!”

You gasped loudly – it was Larry.

Breaking into a sprint, you ran faster down the corridor, you ran past Moai, who was grinning at you, you ran around the corner and onto the staircase.

You looked down – Larry was standing by the information center. He was dressed in his blue uniform.

“Oh my gosh!! You actually came back!!”

You quickly, but carefully, bounced down the stairs, and then approached him, over by the desk.

Larry couldn’t help but smile at you. And you smiled back at him.

It was an infectious, goofy smile, the smile of a little kid when they get lollies or ice-cream, a smile that stretched from ear to ear.

You didn’t even know why you were smiling so much. You were just really glad to see him.

It was him. Larry really had come back.

He placed his hands on his hips. “Well. I take it you’re happy to see me, Y/N. You rushed down here pretty quick.”

You could have replied with a sarcastic, witty remark – but instead you simply walked over and wrapped your arms around him.

It wasn’t necessarily a hug, more of an embrace, just to confirm that he was here, that he was real.

He was quite taken-aback. “Wow. Are you really that relieved to see me?”

Despite only knowing Larry for one night, you still felt closer to him than anyone else. You buried your face in his neck, not caring about how embarrassing this was.

He gently reached a hand up, and patted at your feathered wings.

He seemed to jolt a little bit. “Wow. These feathers feel so real.”

He delicately ran a hand down your wings, which gave you a pleasant tingling sensation.

You giggled. “That tickles.”

He took a step back. You did a loud yawn, stretching out the crinks in your neck. You smiled at him again.

“Sorry if that hug seemed too clingy. I’m just really glad that you came back. I’m glad to see you.”

He stared at you for a while, not saying anything, but you could see the happiness on his face.

And the amazement, too. Even though he had seen your feathered wings before - he was still awed by them, still caught by a feeling of deep surprise.

“I’m glad to see you too, Y/N. I guess I’ve decided to try again tonight. I mean with this whole nightguard thing.”

“Cool! Well, I’m glad that you’ve come back, Larry. Seriously. It’s nice that you came back.”

“Before I start doing my rounds, Y/N, I’ve got something to tell you.”

“Uh oh. What is it? Did one of the miniatures fuck up again?”

Larry takes a deep breath in.

“Listen, Y/N, I know you don’t like them very much...........But those three old nightguards – y’know – Cecil, Gus and Reginald – they want to say goodbye to you. They want to see you one last time, before they retire.”

You stifled back a laugh.

You almost laughed, because you were so shocked.

“What? Are you serious, Larry? But those guys hated me! They hated all of us exhibits! Those guys never cared about us!! What do you mean they want to see me again???”

Larry did a long sigh.

You’re disgusted by the idea of seeing Cecil, Gus, and Reginald again.

Even the thought of it makes you want to throw up.

“They didn’t hate you, Y/N. They’re just grumpy old men. All old men act like that. Ok – I admit – Gus is a real jerk. But Cecil and Reginald aren’t too horrible. And they really want to see you. They asked me if I could come get you. They’re waiting for you in the office.”

You almost turned around and bolted, but Larry was expecting you to meet with The Old Men.

You were hesitant, rubbing sheepishly at your neck. Those three old farts weren't the nicest people to ever exist. 

Especially Gus. Gus was an absolute menace.

Larry raises an eyebrow at you like 'Well? What are you waiting for?'

"Um, I'm not sure, Larry. Seriously. Those guys weren't very nice. They didn't treat us exhibits very well, especially Dexter and the other animals." 

"C'mon, Y/N. They really want to say goodbye. They were asking about you. All you have to do is say goodbye, that's all. They're not going to bite."

You caved in, rolling your eyes like a dramatic teenager. Because even though you mostly hated those guys – you didn’t want to let Larry down.

“Ok. Fine. Fine. I’ll go say goodbye. But why me? Why don’t they want to see Teddy or any of the other exhibits?”

Larry had one simple answer for this – “They like you the most.”

So, you followed Larry down to the nightguard office, still feeling pretty apprehensive about this whole situation.

You had your doubts about this.

On your way, you tried to keep an eye out for Rexy, but the dinosaur was nowhere to be seen.

“This is totally crazy.” You muttered, as Larry knocked on office door. After a moment, Cecil Fredricks opened the door.

“Larry! How wonderful to see you again! Oh, and you’ve brought Y/N with you. We really wanted to see you, Y/N.”

You followed Larry inside, smiling despite yourself.

Gus and Reginald were sitting on the couch, Gus looked half-asleep.

Reginald tapped on Gus’ shoulder, waking him up. “Gus. Gus. Y/N is here.”

You shook your head at the absolute strangeness of this situation. This whole thing was absurd.

You legitimately had to stop yourself from bursting into hysterical laughter.

It’s just – you never thought you would see these three Old Men ever again.

“Wow. It’s the three old jerks. I can’t believe that I’m actually talking to you guys again.”

“Hey now. Hey. There’s no need to be so rude, young lady.” Reginald said that, but at the same time, he was smiling at you.

You grinned at him.

Some of your coldness slowly melted away, and you looked around at the three elderly men. Maybe they weren’t so bad after all.

They were grumpy, inconsiderate jerks – but that was just normal for old men, wasn’t it?

Even though they hadn't been very nice to you - or any of the other exhibits - they were still just Three Old Guys. They were probably grumpy and tired after a long life. 

You put your hands in your pockets.

“So Larry told me that you guys are retiring. Why’s that? I thought you loved being nightguards.”

Cecil sighed, sitting down at his desk, which was cluttered with various trinkets. There was a little American flag on his desk.

“The museum is downsizing, Y/N. To cut costs and save money they’ve had to fire a few people. They don’t have enough dollars in their pocket to pay for us three guards – so they’re replacing us with one new nightguard.”

Your voice went softer. “Oh. I’m sorry to hear that. You guys must feel pretty angry about that.”

Gus mumbles something, but you can’t make it out.

“Oh, well, what can you do. We just hope Larry here is making a good replacement nightguard. How’s he doing in the job, Y/N?”

 You gave Larry a soft smile. “He’s doing good. I mean, he was pretty shocked yesterday, which was understandable. But he managed to get through it. He survived.”

“Any accidents or mistakes?”

“Dexter stole the instructions and tore them up. Wait. Do you know what to do tonight, Larry?”

Larry nods his head.

“Yeah. I did some research on all the different exhibits. I’ve got some things, some knickknacks for the exhibits to interact with. I mean. Well. Y’know. I’ll try my best. See how tonight goes.”

“Cool. And I can help you out again. I’ll help you out around the museum.”

There was a moment of silence.

Cecil seemed to grin at you.

“What?” You snapped at him.

He simply shrugged his shoulders. “It’s just good to see you making a friend, Y/N. I’m glad you and Larry are getting along well. There’s not many people you can talk to in the museum, is there?”

“Yeah. I was – I admit I was feeling pretty lonely. I was pretty much all by myself. I think you guys could tell, couldn’t you? I was pretty lonely. Well, I had Teddy, but Teddy is always off doing his own thing.”

“We could have been nicer towards you, Y/N. We’re sorry about that now. We should have treated you better.” Reginald adds, looking quite guilty.

You wave it away with your hand.

“It’s ok. It doesn’t matter now. At least you guys didn’t lock me up. I thought – the way you guys locked up all the other exhibits was quite cruel. They didn’t have much freedom.”

“How else were we supposed to keep the exhibits from causing chaos, then?” Cecil asks you.

You sigh. “I don’t know. You could’ve found a way, Cecil. I’m sure you could have tried at least.”

“We would have never locked you up, Y/N. We know you wouldn’t have deserved that.”

You do a weak little laugh.

A sad laugh.

This makes you feel slightly bitter. 

“Yeah, at least you guys didn’t lock me up - but at the same time, you didn’t pay me much attention, did you? You guys mostly left me to fend for myself. I had to figure out all this museum stuff out by myself. You guys could’ve been a bit more helpful. It was like I didn’t exist to you guys.”

Cecil gives you a look that almost borders on guilt.

Almost.

“We gave you the details, didn’t we, Y/N? We explained the coming-to-life stuff to you, that first night you came alive, hmm? You managed to figure out the rest by yourself, surely?”

Your shoulders sagged. You didn’t feel like fighting with The Old Men, so you let it go.

“Yeah. I guess. I mean – the first few nights I was pretty messed-up about this whole thing, dealing with all the other exhibits and their personalities – it was a lot for me to take in - but I guess I’m fine now. I’m better now.”

“You must find the museum less stressful now, Y/N? Since you've been here for over a week? You get along well with everyone, don’t you? Y/N? Teddy is fond of you. I know Rexy loves you a lot. You’re friendly with Dexter. And Larry is there for you too, from now on.”

“Yeah. Yeah. I’m fine now. Sorry if it seemed like I was having a mental breakdown, that other night, when I was down here by myself. I wasn’t coping very well.”

“We were worried about you Y/N, weren’t we, Cecil?” Reginald asks, looking over at his friend.

“Yes, we were. You were crying, Y/N, remember? I have to admit, that made me a little bit concerned. You were concerned too, right, Gus?”

Gus makes a noise that sounds like a grunt.

You shake your head, slightly embarrassed by the topic.

“Ok, ok, I’m ok now. Guys, I’m not that pathetic. I can handle my emotions now. I’m not a baby. I just – whatever I was going through before, I’m doing better now.”

After a long pause, Cecil gets up from his desk. “Well. We better get going. This is our final time to clock out.”

Larry hesitates. “Wait. Guys. What if this doesn’t work out? What if I mess things up?”

Cecil clasps his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Larry! We’re always just a phone call away! And you’ve got Y/N here to help you out! Y/N knows all about the different exhibits!”

Larry seems to swallow a painful lump in his throat. “Ok. I’ll try my best.”

“And please, take of Y/N for us, Larry. She’s a very beautiful girl. Don’t let anything bad happen to her. The museum curator won’t be very happy about it.”

You smile softly at Cecil. “Aww. Wow. Ok. That’s sweet of you. How thoughtful.”

Larry nods. “I know. I’ll protect Y/N. I won’t let any harm come to her.”

“You be good, Y/N. Don’t cause any trouble now.” Reginald adds, giving you a wink.

“I won’t. I promise not to cause any trouble. Goodbye guys. Bye, Cecil, Gus, Reginald.” You wave goodbye to The Old Men, most specifically at Reginald, because he was the nicest.

Gus does something strange.

Just as he’s about to leave, Gus turns around and looks at you. He stares at you.

You swear Gus is about to say something to you, because he opens his mouth. It legit looks like he’s about to say something, maybe something along the lines of ‘I’m sorry for being such an asshole’.

But then he doesn’t say it.

Whatever he wants to say, he doesn’t say it.

In the end, Gus just closes his mouth, shakes his head, and lumbers away.

You give Larry a soft smile. “Whelp. The Old Men are gone. It’s up to you now, Larry. You’re in charge. You’re in charge of this crazy place.”

Larry sighs. “This is not what I expected when I took the job.”

You reflect on something that Cecil had said. Something odd.  

“Hey, Larry. What did Cecil mean, when he said ‘The Museum Curator wouldn’t be happy about it?’ I mean if something happened to me, that is.”

Larry gives you a rather sheepish look. “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, Y/N. It’s probably supposed to be a secret.”

“Oh my gosh. Tell me! You have to tell me, Larry!”

“Well, ok, I was talking to the Museum curator about you, y’know, this guy called Dr. McPhee. I was talking to him about how they designed you and your wings, and that sort-of stuff. I was curious. I was just asking him about it. And he said to me – gosh, I probably shouldn’t tell you this.”

“No don’t leave me hanging! Please tell me, Larry!”

“Ok. He said........Like designing your wings and everything, and getting you made as an exhibit, and creating you – I mean how you were made before you came to life – that whole process cost over a thousand dollars. It cost a lot of money. It cost almost ten-thousand dollars.”

Your jaw drops at him. You were absolutely shocked.

Ten-thousand dollars???

And you weren’t even a famous historical figure or anything, you were just a girl.

“WHAT? No way! I can’t have cost that much money to make. That’s ridiculous – I’m just a girl with wings. I’m not that special. I think he must’ve got the number wrong, Larry.”

Larry shook his head.

“No, you really did cost that much money. Apparently they got some famous set designer to design your wings, and that person has a lot of clients - so they had to pay them a lot of money. McPhee said you were a pretty precious exhibit, so like if anything happens to you, I’ll be in big trouble.”

You’re still so stunned by this. Gobsmacked, even.

“That’s so weird. I don’t even feel that special. I mean – some of the exhibits at this Museum are actual historical figures. Really important people. And I’m just – I’m just a girl.”

“I think the Museum Curator, Dr. McPhee - I think he has a soft spot for you, Y/N. He talks about you all the time. He says you’re really special. He would be pretty amazed if he saw you come to life.”

You smiled. “Wait. You mentioned him last night - I thought you said this guy was an asshole.”

“Oh, he is, he’s an absolute self-absorbed jackass. But I’m used to it by now.”

Larry starts walking, and you follow him, heading back to the main foyer of the museum. “Wait, Larry. Why exactly did you take the nightguard job? Did you really want to work here?” You ask this, curious.

“Why? Oh, well, it wasn’t really because I wanted to work here. I mean, the Museum is interesting, but that’s not exactly the reason I took up the job.”

“So what was it?”

“Oh, mostly because of my son Nicky. I took the job for him.”

“You have a son?”

“Yeah. His name is Nicky. I’ve been kinda down-on-my-luck recently, and I haven’t had a steady job in a while. I wanted a decent job, so when they told me they had this position open – I thought it would be a stable enough job. At least I could tell my son I have a job, y’know? I don’t want Nicky to think – I don’t want Nicky to think I’m a disappointment.”

You make a small ‘oh’ noise. You can hear the sadness evident in Larry’s voice.

“I’m sure he doesn’t think you’re a disappointment, Larry. He’s your son. Why would he think that?”

“I’m – I’m separated from his mom. I don’t live in the same place as them, so I’m not with Nicky as much as I should be. His mother and I are divorced.”

Your voice seems to shrink. “Oh no. I’m sorry to hear that.”

You and Larry have arrived back at the main foyer of the museum, which is empty. It’s quiet here, none of the exhibits came down to the foyer. They mostly stuck to their specific historical areas.

“No Rexy?” You ask, wondering where the dinosaur skeleton was.

“He’ll be around here somewhere.”

Larry has a huge bag slung over his shoulder, and from within it, he pulls out a fat wad of pink gum. You laugh. “Why do you have that?”

“Giving it to the Moai. Hopefully this will pacify him.”

“Oh, right. He wants gum-gum.” You then race up the staircase, taking the stairs two at a time. Larry huffs after you, the huge bag slung over his shoulders.

“Can you take it a bit slower, Y/N? I’m not exactly in my prime.”

“Oh come on, Larry. I thought you’d be faster than The Old Men.”

“I’m still pretty tired after the trainwreck that was last night.”

“Did you tell anyone about it?”

Larry raises an eyebrow at you. “Nope. If I told anyone about what happened last night, they would think I’m crazy.”

Larry walks over to Moai, you can’t help but smile at the giant Easter Island Head. It was just so absurd. Moai sees you and he grins. “Birdie!” He calls out.

“Moai. How are you?”

it took Moai a minute to string the words together. “I- miss- you- birdie.”

“Aww. I missed you too, Moai. I’m always missing you.”

Moai wants affection. “Give hug.”

You walk over and gently rest your body against Moai, which is the closest thing you can do to a hug. It’s slightly embarrassing, but also very sweet. When you step away, Moai turns his attention to Larry.

“Dum Dum. You bring me gum-gum?”

Larry holds up the wad of gum. “Yes. Lots and lots of gum-gum.”

Larry sticks the gum inside Moai’s giant stone mouth, and almost miraculously, Moai starts chewing at it. A laugh escapes your lips. You want to stay and watch this, but Larry is on a schedule. “We should keep moving.”

You giggle, waving goodbye to the Easter Island Head.

Larry is bemused. “Huh. That Moai thing likes you a lot. He’s not very keen about me.”

“You just have to be nice to him, that’s all. Treat him with kindness. Treat him with kindness and respect, and he’ll respond.”

Larry stares at you. “He’s a head, Y/N. He’s a stone head attached to the wall.”

“I know he’s a head, Larry. But he’s still my second-favorite exhibit at the museum.”

“Second favorite?”

“It goes like this – I like Rexy the most. Rexy is my best-friend. Then the Moai. Then Dexter. I like Dexter a lot, but sometimes that monkey annoys me.”

“And what about Teddy?”

Almost like an afterthought - “Oh, yeah. Don’t forget Teddy.”

Larry pulls out a lighter from his bag, approaching the caveman Neanderthals. They’re horsing around, as they usually do, poking sticks at each other.

“Hey, guys. Your quest for fire? Over.” Larry demonstrates, flicking the lighter on and off. The caveman stare at it in excitement. Larry throws the lighter and one of them catches it.

“Um, Larry. I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. Giving them a lighter.”

“They’ll be fine, Y/N. It’s how humans learnt to evolve.”

“Where are we going next?” “Hall of miniatures.”

You hesitate, taking a big step back.

You remember the shitshow that was last night - With Octavius and Jedediah and the cowboys tripping you up. That whole thing was a mess. And the way they tripped you and up and you hit your head pretty bad.

That whole thing had scarred you deeply. It had been a little bit traumatizing.

You’re not so sure if you want to go back there again.

Larry can see your hesitation. “C’mon, Y/N. The miniatures won’t bother you again. You’ll be with me.”

You pause, twisting at your fingers.

If there was one exhibit that scared you – it was Jedediah the cowboy.

That blonde cowboy was terrifying.

“I’m telling you, Larry. Those little figurines are crazy! They’re unhinged! They always want things their way!”

Larry jingles around the museum keys in his hand. “That’s why I’m going to lock them up. They won’t be able to do anything. No more tricks.”

You gasp at him. “Ooh, you are bad. Oh my gosh. Ok. I’ll come with.”

You follow behind Larry, who has a determined look on his face.

He’s being serious about this.

“They’re not going to be very happy about that, Larry. Us exhibits hate being locked-up.”

“I’m going to lay down some ground rules, Y/N. If an exhibit behaves in a sensible and normal manner, they can do whatever they want. For example, Teddy. Teddy won’t cause any trouble, so he can do what he want. But if an exhibit causes chaos and disrupts others, I’ll have no choice but to lock them up.”

You jokingly shove at Larry’s shoulder. “Damn! You’re really not messing around tonight, are you?”

Some sadness comes to his face. “I just- I really need this job. I can’t lose this job. If I get fired from this job, I’m toast.”

You can tell this is really troubling Larry. “It’s ok, Larry. I understand. I’ll help you out.”

Larry seems to do a sigh of relief. “I’m lucky that you and Teddy have helped me out, Y/N. Cecil, Gus, Reginald – they didn’t give me any help at all.”

“It’s ok, Larry. I’m here for you. I’ve got your back.”

When you arrive at the Hall Of Miniatures, you’re relieved to see it’s not in total shambles like last night. There’s no cowboys fighting Romans, no miniatures running around on the floor, nothing absurdly hysterical.

You go sit down on the bench, resting your head in your hands.

Maybe tonight - the miniatures would act with some degree of maturity.

You felt kinda tired, so you sat down on the bench while Larry went and dealt with the Mayan figurines. You’re sitting, staring at the Roman diorama, and you notice the Roman General walking about and inspecting his fellow Romans.

The Roman General from last night. What was his name? Octavius. 

Maybe he can sense that someone is staring at him, because he then turns around and looks at you.

A bright smile comes to his face.

“Y/N! You’ve decided to grace us with your presence!”

You smile, standing up and walking over to him. “Octavius. It’s nice to see you again. How are you?”

“Oh I’m grand, dear. Just grand. And how are you? Does your head still hurt from last night?”

You crouch down by the diorama, so you can see the Roman better. “Nope. It doesn’t hurt anymore. I’m completely fine now.”

“That’s wonderful. And I’m assuming the nightguard has returned tonight, is that correct?”

“Yep. And he says he’s going to lock up any exhibits that misbehave, so you guys better act sensible, ok? You have to be sensible tonight, Octavius.”

“We Romans are sensible! We are the smartest and most noble miniatures in the land!”

You paused, noticing that Octavius was standing next to a liege of Romans. All the little Romans were holding a battering-ram, it looked like they were attempting to break down the diorama wall.

“Wait a second. What is going on here, Octavius? Are you up to something?”

Before Octavius could respond, Larry walked over, immediately reaching out to pull the shutter over the diorama. He frowned. “Hey, hey. What’s going on here?”

“I was just explaining to Y/N – we’re Romans. We are a strong and smart civilization! And we expand or we die! Now heave!”

The Romans swung the battering ram, chipping away at a tiny bit of the diorama wall.

You giggled. “Aww, Larry. I think they’re trying to expand their territory. You’re quite clever, aren’t you, Octavius?”

“That I am. Thank you for noticing, Y/N!”

Larry wasn’t so happy about it, though. He walked over to the opposing cowboy diorama, and you could hear him arguing loudly with Jedediah. It was absurd. Sometimes you reflected on how absurd this place was.

You gazed around the Roman diorama, and then started a conversation with Octavius. “Hey, Octavius. Can I ask you something?”

“Yes, my dear. What is it?”

“What do you do all night? Like how do you spend your time?”

He seems flummoxed by the question. “Well, I do like to read. Reading is good for the soul, and for the brain. Reading is a great intellectual activity.”

“What do you read? Can I see?”

“Oh. I’m afraid to say the texts are all in Latin, my dear. You wouldn’t be able to understand them.”

“Aww. But th-”

Just then, Larry barges back over, rudely interrupting your conversation. “Hey, Roman. You have to stop feuding with the cowboy. Stop that.”

Octavius feels disrespected. “My name is Octavius, night-guard. Know your place. Address me with proper dignity!”

Larry doesn’t have time for this.

He picks Octavius up by the helmet, not being gentle or anything, just yanks the Roman right up off the diorama. You gasp loudly. “Larry! Be careful with him!!”

Then he picks up Jedediah, and deposits the two miniatures onto the bench. You give Larry a shrewd look. “Oh my gosh, Larry. You should be more careful picking them up. I mean, they’re just tiny little things. They probably don’t like being picked up like that.”

Jedediah points a finger at you. “Don’t ya’ call me tiny, bird-girl! Don’t ya say that! I’m a fierce fighter! Ya’ better know, I’m the best shot in the west! I’m not to be messed with!”

You sit down on the bench, placing a hand over your chest. “I’m sorry, Jedediah. I didn’t mean to upset you. You are a brave and cunning cowboy. I have respect for you.”

Jedediah looks satisfied. “That’s better now. The bird-girl appreciates my character. I like it.”

Octavius glares at Jedediah. “She likes me more, Jedediah. She’s just saying that to be nice to you. She appreciates my intellect more than your silly gun-slinging hillbilly nature.”

Jedediah looks enraged. “What did ya’ just say? Boy, I outta shoot your pretentious Roman brains right out of ya’ skull-“ Jedediah even makes to pull out his guns, but Larry interrupts.

“Now hold on a second. What is your guys’ problem, huh? Why can’t you guys just get along??”

“Yeah, why the heck were you guys attacking each other last night?”

Jedediah places his hands on his hips. “Look, we’re men, we fight, it’s what we do. Men don’t play nice and reflect on their feelings. Men fight each other to the death!”

Octavius agrees with this. “It’s kind-of how we pass the time.”

“But you guys have the whole room to run around in. you don’t even have to be near each other.”

Jedediah pauses, disbelieving about what has just been said.

The blonde-haired cowboy, for once, is rendered speechless.

For once, Jedediah doesn't immediately snap back with a tough, southern'-style insult.

He takes a while to process what has just been said. 

“What? You’re saying............... You’re going to let us out? And just roam free?”

“Yeah. If you promise to behave. That means no fireballs, no explosions, no fighting each other or disturbing the other exhibits. Can you guys do that?”

Octavius places his hand over his chest and bows. “You have my word, my liege.”

“Yeah, yeah, no problem, Gigantor.”

You chuckle. “Aww. That’s an endearing little nickname.”

Larry isn’t so keen - “Um, actually, my name is Larry. You can call me Larry. Don’t call me Gigantor. I don’t call you tiny, do I?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, what if I said, hi Tiny. Jedediah, what if I constantly called you Tiny? How does that make you feel?”

“I don’t like it! It hurts my feelings!”

“Now you know what I mean. Cause ‘Gigantor’ makes me feel like some sort of freak.”

Jedediah then turns to you. You grimace, expecting a barrage of name-calling or teasing from the cowboy. You expect him to start making fun of you, you brace yourself for some accented slander.

But none comes.

“Hey, bird-girl. Do you mind that I call you bird-girl? Not too offensive for ya’, is it, bird-girl?”

You stare in disbelief. Was he actually being somewhat nice to you??

He adjusts his cowboy hat, then raises his arms. “Well, bird-girl? What’s it going to be?”

You smile. “Sure. You can call me bird-girl. I don’t find it offensive.”

“At least the bird-girl has gotta’ sense of humor-”

Larry interrupts again –

“Look, Jed, I’ll call you Jedediah, you call me Larry. Now listen guys, I’m trusting you with this. I’m giving you some leash here, so don’t choke me with it. Because if you guys misbehave, I’ll have no choice but to lock you up. Just like the Mayans. Look at them. Do they look happy?”

You glance over at the miniatures from the ancient civilization, they were all just standing behind the shutter, not even moving. They were literally just standing there. It was a very depressing sight.

“No, they don’t look happy at all.”

“Alright. You guys, don’t cause trouble. We have to keep moving. Y/N, let’s go.”

You give Octavius and Jedediah a long, long look. They seem to squirm under your gaze.

You try to look into their eyes directly, but they both avoid eye contact.

“You guys are going to be good, right? Don’t mess this up, ok? Please don’t start fighting again. Or else Larry is going to really mad.”

“I won’t let you down, my dear. Tonight, I’ll be focusing my full attention on the Romans. I wouldn’t want to disappoint you, Y/N.” Octavius says, bowing his head.

You glance over at Jed. He shifts around uncomfortably. He rubs at his neck. Then he shrugs.

“Yeah. Sure. whatever. I’ll try my best.”

“Ok. I have to run. You two be good. Don’t start fighting each other again. Please just be friendly, ok?”

You wave goodbye, then race back over to Larry. He gives you a long, exhausted sigh.

He seems pretty exhausted already.

“What is it?” You ask him.

“They’re not going to listen, are they? I mean, about acting sensible. They’ll have a small disagreement about something and then start fighting each other again.”

“I’m sure they won’t fight again! They don’t want to be locked up like the others. No one wants that.”

“Yeah, but they seem to have a pretty fierce rivalry. They’ve probably been like that for a while. Maybe even since they first came to life.”

“Hmm. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

Larry stops for a second, in the middle of the hallway, checking the time on his watch.

Because there’s no exhibits in this particular hallway, he takes a little break, leaning against the wall. “Hey. What’s the time?” You ask, leaning against the opposite wall.

“It’s about one am.”

A strange smile comes to your face. “Wow. It’s late. I mean, Larry, if you weren’t actually doing this nightguard job, you would be fast asleep by now, wouldn’t you? Most people don’t stay up this late, do they? And if I was a real person, I wouldn't be up right now. I would be in bed.”

He glances over at you. “Yeah. That’s true, I guess. My son Nicky will be fast asleep by now. His bedtime is eight, well, it’s usually eight – but at the weekend he can push it to eight-thirty.”

“Are you going to tell him about us exhibits coming to life? I’m sure he would want to know about it. He would be pretty amazed by it.”

“Yeah, I’m thinking about telling him. I’m not totally sure, though. He might not believe me. Or he’ll think I’m crazy and become even more distant.”

“Bring him to the museum one night. Then he legitimately can’t think you’re crazy, because he can see it for himself. I’m sure Rexy would like your son a lot. Rexy can get along with anyone.”

That seems to remind Larry of something. “Oh, yeah, Y/N. Can you go and check on Rexy for me? Make sure he’s not causing any trouble? At the start of the night I gave him a toy to keep him occupied, but he might’ve grown bored of it since then.”

“Sure. but I’m not sure where he is.”

“He’ll probably been down in the main foyer. He might be having a rest, actually. Just go check on him, cool?”

“Cool. What will you be doing?”  

“I have to go deal with Dexter. I don’t want Dexter running around, causing mayhem. Wish me luck.”

You gave Larry a sympathetic look. “I’m sure you’ll be fine. Just don’t let Dexter trick you, ok? He’s good at doing that.”

“I might have a few tricks up my sleeve, too. Two can play at this game. We’ll see who the real winner is. We’ll see about that.”

You laugh at the ‘battle-ready’ expression on Larry’s face.

“Larry, you don’t have to start a fight with Dexter. You know that, right? He’s just a monkey. I know he can be a bit annoying and mischievous sometimes, but he’s not some evil mastermind. He’s just a monkey, that’s all.”

Larry stares at you silently. Then, after a while, he shakes his head.

“Monkey or not, Y/N, he still has to follow the rules. Any exhibit misbehaves or causes chaos, and they get locked up. Simple as that.”

You held out your hands casually, like signaling ‘whatever you say’.

“Ok, ok. If that’s what you wish. You go deal with Dexter. I’ll go find my best-friend.” So you waved goodbye to Larry, then made your way down to the museum foyer.

Hopefully, the dinosaur skeleton would be around to play a game of fetch.