Archive of Our Own ^beta

Moon was well-versed in all things pertaining to you. He made it his business to know everything, after all.

He knew you liked reading, and knew your favorite shows, games, and other menial things. Even your odd, human mannerisms were safely noted and categorized. Such as how your nose scrunched up whenever you were offended. Or when you were nervous and would bite your bottom lip. Though, his favorite was when you were holding back your laugh. It was fascinating to see how you’d clasp your hands over your mouth after sucking in your lips with eyes blown wide before being squeezed shut.

You made such funny faces.

Each piece of you was intimately and carefully placed in a mental folder that was guarded with locks and chains and viruses.

He didn’t know himself to that same extent. He didn’t care to invest such time. It had never bothered him before. His interests and favorites were programmed. Individuality was a privilege only a few like him could achieve. Even then, that same ‘individuality’ was programmed. He assumed so at least. So, he felt certain it wasn’t real individuality. If it wasn’t genuine, he wasn’t interested.

And you were very genuine.

He had never experienced the joy of finding an interest.

Until you.

You were by far the only genuine interest he had. The only one he cared to have, anyway. It wasn't particularly because you were interesting, in fact, you were quite dull in comparison to the environment around you. No flashy colors and very little of your attire or demeanor was eye-catching.

You were miraculously plain and simple and so, so intriguing that it made Moon’s very gears ache. He would love to encourage you to be more adventurous. You’d look lovely with night-blue hair.

“Or a fiery orange!”

Once, you had asked him what his favorite color was. He’d never had to think about such a thing before. All he could do was stare blankly, eyes flitting over your body to try and see if any of the colors you wore sparked a particular cord in his code.

He didn’t think he could have genuine favorites.
Besides you, of course.

He hadn’t truly cared enough or had time to find something worthy of being his favorite. The Plex was cold and boring to him; a cage and home all in one. Plus, he didn’t quite grasp the reasoning behind placing menial things on a hierarchal structure. It was a matter of perspective; nothing was ever truly above another.

Besides you.
Of course.

“Okay, well…” You tapped your pen against the notepad in your hand. You played this silly game of sorts; a question game you had gently pressured him into. It wasn’t really a game. There was no winner or loser, no strategy either. Just you asking him questions until he ultimately ran off, hiding in the ceiling or vents. Still close, but you never knew for sure.

He liked it that way. Keeping you on your toes, so to speak. He liked it when you would crane your head up to search for him. Though he liked it most when you would call out his name in that hushed, gentle voice one would use on a stray cat.

It made his endo shiver.

He was distracting himself again. You had asked a question. He tilted his head and the bell on the tip of his jingled. “Ask again,” he requested as politely as his raspy voice allowed.  

You smiled, not at all upset by his wandering thoughts. “I said: How would you describe yourself?”

An easy one. There was one thing Moon felt he embodied perfectly. He was a guard and what did guards do better than anyone else?

They protected.
He was a protector.

That’s something Moon had always considered himself. After all, he was the defender of sweet dreams before he was on night security. Watching dutifully over the little ones, ensuring they remained safe and at peace.

He missed that, that's why he found your company on nights like these so appealing. While you walked the halls, he stayed close by your side. Your guardian of the night.

Even if currently, you were sitting on top of a table in the concert hall. Unsanitary and unsafe, he noted. Meanwhile, he sat in a chair, silently enjoying how, for once, you were sitting taller than him.

Most night guards avoided him. He was little more than a nightly coworker– less than that, really– who acted as an extra pair of hands. You, however, wanted to pick him apart bit by rusted, ol’ bit, infected with the idea you would find something worthwhile during these little question games of yours.

“I am a jester,” he finally replied.

Your bottom lip jutted out as you huffed. With a lean forward, you playfully tapped the end of your pen to his forehead. His eyes followed, mechanical breath pausing when it clicked.

“Silly, that’s what you are, not how you would describe yourself. Like, I’d say I’m pretty stubborn sometimes–” His chassis rolled with a noise akin to a chipper giggle. You shot him a narrow-eyed glare. “Okay, whatever,” you shut the notepad and clicked your pen into the chest pocket on your vest. “Well, we only have an hour left. Ready for another walk around?”

You didn’t expect an answer.

He wasn’t a big verbal communicator.
He was grateful you didn’t mind.

Moon nodded, taking his place in the air just a few feet above you.

You rarely worked morning shifts.
Even more rare was when you worked double shifts.

Still, you were paid good- well… semi-good money to work the extra hours. Plus, it was nice to see Sun in the mornings.

You didn't have favorites between the two. It would be like having a favorite sock from the same pair. It didn't make logical sense.

That said, Sun was much more vocal than his counterpart. He wasn’t shy about his interest in you, nor you him. The two of you would play that little game of yours whenever time was available. Unlike Moon, Sun asked you questions as well. Partially because he was so curious and partially because not knowing everything he could about you ate at him like corroded batteries. It wasn’t fair that Moon hoarded all that valuable information. Though, he was far less cautious than the other. Sometimes, he’d even say a genuine compliment, one not pre-programmed and one all too uniquely targeted toward you.

You both sought companionship from the other. That was all. As far as you knew, at least. It wasn’t like either animatronics could express themselves in ways that would make you question their motives. Sun’s innocent compliments and teasing weren’t meant to be flirtatious. You’d be a fool to believe otherwise, and the ‘Plex didn’t need three fools running around.

You knocked on the doors to the daycare and whistled the beginning of the tune that played. A second later, a knock answered back with the other half. The door slowly creaked open.

“Sun, hey! Guess who’s working a-” Before you could finish, two arms shot out of the door and pulled you inside the daycare. Your legs briefly left the ground as you were swung around. For once, you had hoped that he wouldn’t do this. But, well, all the hugging was growing on you. Even now, you found yourself circling your arms around the metallic torso before you.

Mostly for dear life.

“Oh, friend! I never see you!” Sun held you up to his face and pressed his cheek against yours. “Mhm,” he hummed contentedly. He held you there only briefly before placing you back on the ground. His hands rested on his hips as he bent slightly to look you better in the eye. “What brings you here so early, friend?”

“Workin’ a double shift,” you replied with a shrug.

His faceplate ticked once, a sign of contemplation. Then he stood up straight, hands clasped behind his back. “Oh, my, my! Getting some overtime in, are we?” When his head ticked to the side like it was, it almost made him look stern. “Don’t overdo it, friend! We wouldn’t want you to end up sick.”

Sun had a nasty habit of making a fuss over you. Even though your time with him was often limited, he had grown quite attached, and you knew it. Most of the time, you could rationalize his attachment to you because you were the closest thing he and Moon had to a handler. They did have handlers on occasion, but the position was usually open again in less than a month.  

“Oh, yeah,” you spoke sarcastically. “That would be just awful,” you rolled your eyes. You sidestepped him as you carried your belongings to the caddy behind the security desk. “I’m sure you’ll both have a different opinion by the time I leave tonight. You’ll have had enough of my company for the next year.”

Tucked behind the desk, you frowned at all the grime you saw on the lower cabinets. A sound of disgust escaped as you opted to just leave your bag and lunch box on the counter.  

When you stood back up, you were hit by something hard and painful on the top of your head. Instinctively, your hands rose to protect the spot.

You would definitely be getting a bump from that.

“Oops!” Sun jerked back, his hand on the center of his forehead. “Sorry, friend, I just–”

“It’s okay,” you waved it off. “Just don't stand over me again. I don't have spacial sensors like you do.” You noticed he still held a hand to the space on his forehead. “Let me check that out,” you said as you made your way over to him. He wasn’t in pain, you knew that much. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to check.

“Right, right,” Sun’s fingers tapped anxiously against the other side of the desk. His faceplate followed your movements all the way until you were in front of him.

“Lean down,” you demanded gently.

He nodded, eyes watching you the entire time as you looked at the area.

“Good, I was worried that chip on your faceplate would come off,” you sighed, relieved.

“Oh,” Sun’s chest rumbled. “I don't think you’re that hard-headed.”

“Well, I don't know about– Hey!”

Sun chuckled more and placed his hands on your shoulders, keeping you locked in place before him. “I just wanted to say that we could never tire of your company. We enjoy your company very much. Almost too much!” His rays spun in a complete circle.

You could feel the slight breeze his rays picked up as he leaned down, facing you fully. “So, promise you’ll take it easy today, okay?” His head tilted to the side innocently. You didn’t notice how he wrung his hands behind his back.

“Okay, okay,” you rolled your eyes. “You’re worse than my parents with all your worrying.”

“Can’t help it, I’m afraid! Comes with the job description!”

Being a guard wasn’t just walking around with a flashlight. Though, you certainly wished that was all you had to do.

Sadly, it did have its downsides.
Sometimes, you did have to do your job.

It wasn’t uncommon to find yourself alone near the beginning of the shift. Luckily, you welcomed the silence that idling around the ‘Plex gave you.

The first few nights, it had been admittedly eerie. It was strange to be somewhere normally so bright and crowded that was now a darkened wasteland. Children's familiar laughter and joyful screaming from the day were now missing. Their absence made the place feel strangely liminal. Sometimes, you swore you could still hear children’s laughter during the night. But, whenever you went to inspect, there was always nothing of concern.

Luckily, nowadays, you found that absence relaxing. Without the noise and tiny bodies, you could focus on doing the more tedious aspects of your job. These mainly included picking up trash, locking doors, making reports about broken lights, etcetera, etcetera. It always irked you just a tiny bit that you were asked to pick up trash when you were hired as a guard, not a custodian.

At least you didn’t have to take any of it out.

You were in the process of locking the gate to one of the gift shops when the sound of jingling alerted you to a presence behind you. At ease, you merely rolled your eyes and stayed facing the lock. “Moon, nice of you to join me,” you smiled nonchalantly. “I told you not to sneak up on me anymore. It doesn’t even scare-”

Something sharp pressed into your back as a large, calloused hand covered your mouth. You could smell cigarette smoke in the air, it practically clung to the clothes of the person ensnaring you. “Shut up an’ listen,” a deep, gravelly voice whispered into your ear. You could smell Marlboro on his breath when he chuckled at your confused expression.

You were scared.
But you had to keep your cool.
What little you had, at least.

“Do you know where they repair the bots?”

You nodded, trying desperately not to cry as the knife pressed deeper into your clothing.

“You’re goin’ to take us there. An’ you’re goin’ not do anything stupid on the way there like alert any of those security bots. Just start walkin’, no talkin’.”

The thought, “Us?” entered your mind. “More than one,” you gulped. Even if you managed to get away from this guy, you might not be as lucky with the other. Multiple ideas on how to get away ran through your mind. Your fear kept you from attempting any of them.

You would have to stall and hope Moon or another animatronic saw you before anything worse happened.

Moon found himself searching for you immediately once the lights were shut off. He knew approximately where you should be headed around this time.

He swam through the air, eyes scanning the halls for heat signatures. He was disappointed when you were completely absent from your usual whereabouts. Still, he had no evidence to suspect anything suspicious had occurred, so he checked rooms and locked doors that you hadn’t been to yet.

He continued to the next area.
You weren’t there either.
He checked the schedule to see if you had left early.
You hadn’t.
He continued to the next area.

“Hide-n-Seek?” he wondered.

It didn’t exactly make sense, but then again…

You were quite the jokester- adoringly so, of course! On occasion, you would even play little practical pranks. Oh, how you made his chassis roll with delight when you’d pop out to scare him. You had never quite managed to frighten him successfully, but he was a good performer and played the frightened deer-in-the-headlights role well.

Well, enough to fool you, at least- which, admittedly, wasn’t hard.

He was so lost in his thoughts of you, that he nearly didn’t compute the audio reaching his receptors. He paused on the top floor of the ‘Plex, peeking over the banisters and overlooking the atrium. Two voices spoke low, his memory banks couldn’t match their voice pattern with anyone currently in the system.

A curious presence ebbed in the corner of his consciousness. He opted to ignore it, focusing more on scanning the room.

Then, you were in his sight.

You were on the way to the center of the stage– the lift. There were two strangers behind you. One was bulky with squared shoulders and a heavy build, he wore a Chica mask- price tag still attached- from the gift shop.

He walked uncomfortably close to you. Moon’s grip tightened around the banister. That earlier curiosity was now turning into a shared simmering of anger.

The other man was quite scrawny and tall, he walked with a slight limp and hunched his back. He wore a black ski mask. How stereotypical.

“Coward,” the bulkier man’s voice said with a sneer.
“I am not!” the other replied. “I- I am being cautious!”
“No, you’re being a coward.”

The lanky one visibly puffed up. “You’re the one hired to do the dirty work. I just grab the papers. Don’t forget how much money is on the line. My employers–”

The bulky one slapped him on the back– hard. It was enough for the other to gape as the air was forced out of him. “I’m pulling your leg, Business,” he scoffed at the name. “You just be a good desk boy and do what our employers pay ya’ to do.” A moment later he snickered, “What a dumb name.”

“It’s better than The Brass,” Business replied hotly.

The Brass replied with an uncaring shrug. “It’s for my brass knuckles.”

Finally, the three of you arrived at the lift. You stood at the button, taking your time to scan the room. Your eyes locked on the two red dots in the distance. Moon could see the barely contained fear behind your forced bravery. He noted the expression and wished desperately to never see it again.

As the lift began to lower, he jumped onto the top of the banister and then dove toward the atrium.

That was the last you saw of him before the knife was pressed sharply into your back again. The tip was pressing against your skin, breaking through the fabric of your shirt.

If your captors wanted, they could stab you now and make their way to Parts & Service on their own. The fact they hadn’t killed you made you have– albeit, just a tiny amount of– hope. Plus, you felt certain Moon was nearby, even if you couldn’t see him. Wherever he was, you hoped he was coming up with a plan to get you out of this mess unscathed.

“How did these guys even get in without sending an alert out through the security system?” you wondered.

Business whispered, “What do we do with them once we get what we need?”

You had been wondering that yourself.

The Brass replied smoothly, “Tie ‘em up and stuff ‘em in a suit for all I care. Just make sure they don’t see or say anything. Don’t matter what they hear.”

The knife poked through your shirt fully, now jabbing dangerously into your skin. You hated the scared, weak gasp that left your lips.

The Brass continued with a deep laugh, “They won’t say anything, will you?”

You gulped and shook your head. Though, at knife-point, you’d agree to anything if it kept you alive. And you suspected they knew that, too.

Walking through darkened hallways gave you an odd sense of safety. You kept telling yourself that Moon was close, that he’d swoop down and grab your assaulters, whisking them away to somewhere far from you for emergency services to deal with. Sadly, no such thing happened.

Not even as you unlocked the doors to Parts & Service.

The room was dark and would remain so. It was clouded in dust despite its regular use. You didn’t have much time to process the surroundings before your legs were kicked, causing you to stumble.

“Over there.” A finger pointed from your peripheral toward a wall facing away from the cylinder.

You complied, though your fear was beginning to evolve into anger.

The Brass brought your wrists together behind your back. “You, sit here and face the wall,” he demanded as if you had a choice. He forced you to the ground and a moment later, a zip-tie was tightened around your wrists. It hurt; they were too tight. There was no way they weren’t cutting off circulation. The Brass didn’t care. He jerked his head toward his partner. “Get what you came for so we can get outta this place. Creepy as hell.”

All you could hear was the two rummaging around the room. Occasionally you heard a digital snap of a photo, the flash gave you minimal access to sight. Not that it mattered. All you could see was the wall.

Suddenly a loud gasp startled you. Hope swelled in your chest. Moon must’ve–

“Oh, this is magnificent,” Business said as your shoulders fell. “My employers will be ecstatic to have these! Do you know what these are?”

Your head hung low, now pressed against the wall as you felt yourself begging for Moon to reappear soon. You weren’t sure how much time you had.

The Brass replied to his partner, “I don’t particularly care. Just grab an’ go.”

Business explained anyway, “These are plans for future animatronics and- and the code for the AIs! FazBear’s is known for its lifelike animatronics, some say they’re even sentient or have a semblance of self-awareness. This could change everything. FazBear’s won’t be a monopoly anymore. Oh, fuck, I’m going to get such a big promotion!”

“Oh, you fucker,” you groaned internally. “All this for a fucking promotion? If Moon doesn’t kick your ass then I will.”

You heard the jingling behind you and tensed. The Brass was standing above you, probably preparing to finish you off now that they got what they came for. You briefly felt sad for the remains that Moon would ultimately find. You wondered if he’d understand that you were gone when looking into your lifeless eyes.

Long, slender fingers gently held your banded wrists. “You okay?” a raspy, hushed voice asked.

The breath you were holding released shakily. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying hard not to sob. “He came,” you shook uncontrollably.  

You nodded urgently, fighting the tears of relief and straining your throat to keep silent. You winced at the feeling of your wrists finally being freed. When you turned around, Moon was hanging from the ceiling like a spider.

Business and The Brass were still on the other side of the room, digging through papers and stuffing them in folders.

Moon’s optics bounced between each of your eyes. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking about behind that faceplate of his. You did notice how his hands hovered over your shoulders. All the fear and relief weakened you significantly. So much so, that you practically melted into his arms. “Shh, shh,” he cooed as you hugged his neck. His arms around your torso had never felt so welcomed. “Shh, getting you out now. Need to be quiet,” he urged quietly. He tried to get a good grip on you, to pull you up in his arms and cradle you before going to hide.

To your credit, you had been quiet.
It wasn’t your fault the tears blurred your vision.

Your body had been lifted all of two inches before being dropped harshly back to the ground. Mangled, horrific, clipped screaming filled the room as you blinked through your tears up at Moon.

The Brass had his fist digging into the back of Moon’s head. His brass knuckles sparked with glee as Moon’s optics flickered between red, black, and white. Electricity clogged every inch of the attendant’s body in a second. The shock made his body convulse; Sun’s rays shot out in jagged, uncontrollable motions as the duo’s voices lapped in their shared pain.

In one, singular moment, you lunged forward, tackling The Brass’ legs. “Get away! You’re hurting them!” You and your captor fell to the ground, but you were the only one who recovered quickly. You scrambled on top of him, adrenaline coursing through your body. Arms moved on their own, wrapping around the man’s neck and squeezing as tight as they could. Then, his fist landed squarely on the side of your head and you were sent careening to the floor, clutching your head in pain.

Moon- or Sun- you couldn’t tell with their current form- was beside you, immobile, but their optics sparked to life.

“Sa– Safety pro– protocols are act- act- activating. Yo- u need to l- leave,” their voice box glitched urgently.

“I don’t care,” you huffed stubbornly, stumbling to your knees. “I’m not leaving you.”

You probably should have. Because a Business grabbed you by the hair and yanked you backward. Panic seized your mind and body as you kicked and clutched at the hand dragging you. You managed to pry yourself away by twisting around and kicking his leg out from under him.

He landed on his face.
You felt pride.

You scrambled backward on your hands, stopping only when you hit the cold metallic body behind you. Without looking, you squeezed his hand and glared at the two across from you.

“You fucker! Brass!” Business shouted as he clutched his bleeding nose. “Take care of ‘em! I’ll get the bot!”

You sucked in a breath and scanned the room- spotting the fire alarm. The Brass followed your line of sight.

The hand you held was cool. You didn’t want to let it go. The fingers tangled between yours, and a weak shake of their head aided you in your decision. You cursed under your breath as you yanked your hand away and dashed toward the alarm.

It lasted all of three seconds to reach, pull the lever, and for The Brass to slam you to the ground and punch you in the face. That one throw was enough to cause everything to go dark.

The moment skin broke and your blood fell, there was an instinctive reaction to defend, to protect.

To hurt.

The Brass shouted, “Leave the bot! We need to get out of here before the cops show up!”

But Business was too close. And it was too late.

Eclipse grabbed the man by the ankles and used his body as leverage to pull their body up. Even as he beat against their face in fear, they just pushed his body further to the ground as they rose above him. Once standing, their faceplate ticked erratically as they stared at your immobile body. Then, they grabbed Business by the neck and lifted him to their eyes.

“Pl- Please,” the man cried. “I- I didn’t even want to do this-”

He found it hard to speak as his head was crushed against the nearest wall. Repeatedly. Until a red mark was stained against it.

It took them even less time to get the other man. It was easy since he was so thoroughly frightened that he was frozen in place. He couldn’t even move his little hands. Not that it would matter since Eclipse snapped his wrists first. He dangled by his broken wrists, held up by one hand while the other three rested against his face. The impulse to squeeze his head- to see his eyes pop like a jack-in-a-box between each of their fingers became too much to-

Ah.
Well.

That’d be a fun mess for someone to clean.

They dropped the body and it rag-dolled to the ground, flopping over just like the plush equivalent of the mask it wore. Neither had ever seen the insides of a human so closely. It was obnoxiously red and messy.

Then, you whimpered and they were by your side in no less than two steps. Your eyelids fluttered but stayed closed as they cradled you in their two lower arms. Eclipse’s frame shook and spasmed as their other hands hovered over your injuries.

Your face. Your poor, poor face. It was already bruising and your lip– Oh, it was busted so terribly. It was swelling and bleeding from a deep cut that cut your bottom lip in almost half. Your nose was broken and they couldn’t stop staring at all the cuts and swelling of skin.

There’s no way you didn’t have a concussion.

“Hide,” Sun’s voice warbled internally. 
“Keep safe,” Moon’s voice replied. 
“Bad, not good,” Sun’s voice shook. “Have to–”

Eclipse shook their head as if clearing their thoughts. “Need to find…” their whole being thought as they looked around the open area. “Safe place,” the thought finished. “Somewhere… Somewhere…” their voices repeated, lapping over each other with increasing panic.

Through the hazy panic, they vaguely recognized that you spoke. You said… something. They weren't listening to you at all. Their eyes were trained on the blood seeping from your lip. They couldn't believe that you were hurt. That they had allowed harm to come upon you. A new sort of fury and shame melded inside their chassis and made their inside scream each time they moved.

Your hands– Your warm, lovely hands gently lifted their face to meet your eyes. Your gorgeous, full-of-life eyes stared into their manufactured lenses.

“I’m okay,” you said slowly, careful of your lip. “I’ll be okay. An ambulance is coming, right? And they’ll stitch this up.”

They nodded the tiniest bit.

Their hands would not leave your body. They trailed every inch you allowed them to. One of the hands hovered a trembling thumb over your lip. But it never touched your injury. Instead, their thumb ran under your eye and brushed away your tears.

Your adrenaline was running low, and with your heartbeat finally steadying, exhaustion crept in. They could see it in your eyes and from how your breathing slowed.

They slipped to the ground, cradling you close in their lap. A broken lullaby began to play as they brushed their fingers through your hair. You remained only distantly aware of the sirens growing in the distance. You would have to stand up at some point... talk to the people coming to help you. But for the moment, you couldn’t imagine moving a single inch.

They nuzzled into your hair, perfectly gentle despite the blood now coating their serrated nails.

There, you closed your eyes and allowed the whirring inside their chassis to lull you to rest. All the while, trapped in their four arms, held together by their instinct and impulse.