Work Text:
"Oh, my! A lost one! Let's see . . . looks like you're in our database, so I've already contacted your parents. While we wait, why don't we play a game?"
The girl looked up at the huge robot in front of her. She didn't know how she got here, but she didn't like it. One moment, she'd fallen asleep waiting for her mom to finish talking to her friend, and the next, she woke up here.
Here, in this baby place with baby toys, staring up at the blank eyes of the most unsettling robot she ever saw. Although it crouched in front of her, she could tell it was as big as the Glamrocks with a bigger smile. Sunny rays contrasted with the crescent moon on half its face. Bells jingled with every minute adjustment of its hands.
As creepy as it looked, though, its words were warm and inviting.
A game, huh?
"My mommy's coming?" she sniffed. "How long?"
The robot smiled wider and waved its hand. "Soon, I promise! So?"
She gave it some thought, but not much. A game did sound nice, and it would help pass the time. "Okay. Can we play tag?"
"How about hide and seek instead? Let's use all these fun play structures!" His top twisted round and round as he gestured all around him, and when he laughed, he sounded genuinely happy. She couldn't help but smile and giggle a little, too.
"Okay. I call seek!"
The robot snapped. "Oh, fiddlesticks!" he exclaimed, and she laughed again. "Fine, but I have to warn you! I'm a master hider! Ready?"
"Ready!" she closed her eyes. "One. Two. Three. Four. Five . . ."
~.~.~
Lights out.
Moon woke up.
Location: loft above play area. Sleep place.
No input from Sun—he'd been napping before the lights went out.
Useless.
On quiet feet, Moon scaled the tower down, down, down until he landed on soft play mats. Nothing seemed out of place. No sounds, no movements. And yet, he had the distinct impression that he was not alone here.
Scanning . . .
ERROR: scanner malfunction.
Ah. Right. Scanner was broken. Stupid Sunny not taking care of their equipment during the day.
thmp thmp
Moon's head twitched. His habitual smile faded a little as he focused on where that sound might have come from.
ssh ssh
Rustling fabric whispered near inaudibly from across the room, but Moon's head whipped toward that direction anyway. If he doubted it before, now he was sure. Something was in the play area with them—and Sunny had completely missed it.
Growling softly, he nudged his other half awake, softly at first but with growing agitation the more he went ignored.
WAKE UP!!
"What??" Sunny whined, and Moon scratched his right arm just for that. Sun yelped in their head; Moon could feel his anger now. "What the heck, Moon!? What was that for!?"
"Don't whine at me," Moon hissed. "Something's in here with us."
"Puh-lease! As if I'd miss something coming in. It's probably a mouse or something." The impression of Sun rolling over and curling up in bed blazed through Moon's head, filling him with unshakable ire. "Now, I'm worn out and would love to sleep. Good night!"
"Lazy." Moon sniffed and hooked himself up to the cable. It lifted him high above the play area, giving him a good view of most of the daycare.
All was still. No movement, nothing running or walking or crawling or scuttling. He couldn't even see the other animatronics outside the daycare—but that didn't chase away the sense that something was in here with him.
Carefully, Moon flew over the play area. He surveyed the play structures from the outside, gave as much a cursory glance as he could. It revealed nothing—and yet.
Something rustled once more. "Do you hear that?" Moon whispered. Sun didn't respond.
Moon mentally smacked him.
"What!?" Sunny snapped. "What is it this time!?"
"I hear breathing in the dark."
"Breathing?" Sunny breathed a put-upon sigh. "Moony Moon, I scanned the daycare before going into sleep mode. I even did a physical sweep; there was nothing here. There's still nothing!"
"There's 'nothing' because you broke the scanner!" Moon hissed. "So now, you're going to help me find it."
"Nope. Not happening. I have better things to do than to entertain your imagination. Good night."
Landing on top of the tallest play structure, Moon snarled and just kept from scratching his face plate. The arm was one thing, but the face? Someone would notice.
Something moved.
Moon's eyes zeroed in on the intruder as he leaned dangerously forward. The figure was small and a little hard to make out in the low light, but a quick switch to night vision fixed that problem easily. It looked like a child, possibly male, around ten or eleven years old. They held a flashlight in their hand, but it was shut off. Smart, maybe, but not smart enough to remain under cover.
Moon gave chase.
With a violent jingle of bells, he launched himself down, reveling in the child's terrified look before swiping down.
He missed the kid by an inch. The little one darted into a tunnel and scurried to the other side. They sprinted along to the jungle gym; their footsteps grew quiet only when they were out of sight. Moon giggled—this little one thought they could play hide and seek with Moon?
Oh, Moon loved playing hide and seek! Maybe he would even play fairly!
Giggling and covering his eyes, he started to loudly count, "One. Two. Three . . ."
Desperate footsteps thundered through the jungle gym. They quieted down by the time Moon counted to six, and by count ten, he completely lost track. That was fine—now that he knew someone was in here, he could soundly say that they were trapped.
The loft was too high to get to.
There were no vents going directly into the play area.
The massive door was now locked.
Perhaps the slide would pose an issue, but Moon was quick. He was confident in his ability to catch up to the little snot.
~.~.~
"Found you!!"
The girl screamed at the voice so close to her, flinching back when she was faced with the sunny robot guy. She breathed a shaky sigh as she crawled out of her hiding place and stood in front of him.
"Your turn, friend!" he cried. "You count, and I hide!"
"Hold on," she said. "I wanna try again! I think I know a better hiding spot!"
"Oh?" The sunny robot tilted his head curiously. "Teeeechnically, we're bending the rules a little, but I don't think anyone's watching. Sure, have another turn!" And he covered his eyes.
As the robot counted loudly once again, the girl took several nervous steps back. She liked him, she really did, but this was one round too many. Wasn't her mommy supposed to be here by now? What was taking so long?
She didn't need to stay here anymore. She didn't want to. She needed to escape.
As the robot reached ten, she turned tail and ran straight toward the big double doors. She reached them in no time and yanked, but they—they didn't budge—
Locked. They were locked!
The nerves she felt before skyrocketed into pure panic. She was stuck—stuck here with a stranger who promised he'd called her mom but probably didn't!
She needed out—she needed to get out!
Looking back at the robot, relief filled her when she found him still counting.
Okay, okay, think. Where else could she escape?
Her head whipped back and forth, taking in the security desk—could she call for help there? Maybe—maybe she could try the slide? It led straight to the outside, and maybe she could call for help once she got away. The only problem was that she had to run past the robot, but maybe if she was quiet enough, he wouldn't notice.
Carefully, she tiptoed around him.
"Fifteen. Sixteen."
She approached him and held her breath, but he kept counting.
"Seventeen. Eighteen."
He sat still on his knees, eyes covered with his hands, and rays pulsing in and out in waves. She kept her eyes glued on him as she quietly made her way to the slide.
"Fifteen. Sixteen."
She could do this. She could make it. She could get out of here and see her mommy again.
"Seventeen. Eighteen."
Almost there. Almost there.
"Seventeen. Eighteen."
She was almost there—
"Seventeen. Eighteen."
He giggled. She froze, close to touching the slide. She was almost free, but something about that giggle . . .
Fingers parted over one eye. The girl shrieked—one red pinprick surrounded by a sea of black stared right at her, laughed at her as the robot chortled, "Keep going, friend! I'm sure you'll make it!"
That was it. With a scream, she scrambled up the slide—
—and then the lights went out.
And something cold and hard grabbed her ankle.
~.~.~
"Sixteen. Seventeen."
Shaky breathing.
"Eighteen. Nineteen."
Quiet now. Possible location: the tube slide.
Poor hiding spot.
"Twenty." Hands jerked off his eyes. Night vision on. This will be fun. "Ready or not, here we come!"
A scared little squeak gave away the location almost immediately, but that was no fun, so Moon purposely walked in the opposite direction. He allowed his footsteps to fall heavier on the play mats, and his bells jingled merrily in the darkness.
I can hear you. You think you're being quiet, but I can hear you.
"It's your bedtime," Moon sang. "Let's go to bed, little one."
A ragged gasp cut through the silence so loudly that Moon had to turn toward the tube slide. The gasp turned into ragged breathing—delicious terror audible through the sound waves, soon to be visible.
Moon crouched to all fours. As quickly as he dared, he spider crawled across the floor toward the slide, fast enough to satisfy his impatience and slow enough to keep the bells on his feet and wrists from jingling. Unsure shuffling echoed from the slide; the little nuisance seemed to be deciding whether to stay put or run away.
Oh, he hoped the child ran away! Moon wanted a good chase—he longed for a challenge to this game!
Closing in.
Almost there.
The tube slide was equipped with windows every few segments. He could see small details, like the slight curls at the end of the child's hair that spoke to poor hygiene. The kid scooted up along the slide, and Moon could make out the dirt and scratches along his face and neck. No one seemed to care for this child, and therefore no one would miss him.
Perfect.
The little head turned every which way—before settling on Moon.
He froze. His smile stretched wider at the horror in those widening eyes, at the terror in those shrinking pupils. With a terrified, choking gasp, the child scrambled up the slide.
Cackling, Moon followed.
"Ugh, Moon!!"
Moon tripped over his own hands, tumbling end over end until he landed in a twisted heap. Glitching snarls tore out of his voice box as he worked to untangle himself, and all the while, a grating voice shouted in his head.
"If you're going to play with imaginary friends, at least help me put up the barrier!" Sunny whined. "You know I love your games as much as you do, but please! I want to go to bed!"
Lazy bum, Moon snapped. There's an intruder in here, and you want to sleep?
"Is it about the breathing? I already told you, it's probably just a mouse!"
Moon, finally untangled, settled on his knees, glaring up the tube slide and at the darkness within. The child was gone, disappeared into a new hiding spot, and he would have been more annoyed if it didn't mean this posed more of a challenge. It's a child, he said. I saw it myself.
"A child?" Finally, Sun perked up a little. Moon grinned a self-satisfied grin. "The Plex is closed, you know."
"And yet, it's here."
Sunny fell silent. An air of disbelief permeated their link, along with tense anticipation. Moon giggled and started climbing up the slide—if Sun didn't believe him, Moon would show him.
Inside the play structure now, the airwaves bounced oddly. Sounds were amplified now, bouncing sound louder within the enclosed space, and yet everything was much more muffled. Moon crawled around, scaling bars and trying to locate the child with audio and visual cues. Moving shadows in the darkness revealed their location every once in a while; they seemed to be moving down, toward—
Toward the generators.
Huffing, Moon quickened his pace, finding a space to wiggle out of so he could scale the outside instead.
He reached the first generator before the kid; he folded himself up tight next to it, effectively hiding away. He could see them slowly making their way through, and Moon turned off the lights in his eyes to better hide.
The little one's little face peeked around the corner. Slowly, ever so slowly, he crept closer and closer, and Moon could make out more details. He wore a striped shirt and shorts, and his face and knees were already covered with several little bandaids. His clothes and shoes were ratty at the edges, yet more signs of neglect, and if Moon was in the mood, he would call the authorities.
But he was in a different mood.
A little hand reached out.
Moon flickered his eyes back on.
A string of glitching giggles escaped him, and the child screamed and scrambled back as Moon slowly unfolded himself in front of the generator.
Lights off.
"Good night!" Moon cackled.
He swiped. The child, through sheer luck, skittered away.
Moon snarled, but his smile remained. At least this was fun!
There! he crowed. Saw that?
A sleepy hum was all he got in response.
Moon's smile dropped from his face.
The claws on his left hand flexed and swiped at his right arm. Sunny cried out again, more in surprise than actual pain, and the rage across the line almost made up for his rudeness.
"Moon!!" he snapped. "I was sleeping!"
Sleeping!? Moon scoffed and dug into the grooves. I thought you were watching!
"Well, someone has to work during opening hours, and I've gotta stay awake the whole day now thanks to you!"
"Oh, my fault, is it?" Moon grumbled. He tried scanning the play structure, but the same error message as before popped up. Annoyed, he swiped it away and started crawling once again. I didn't hear you complain when I played my game. In fact, you played a little game of your own! You're lucky I can still patrol!
Sun grumbled but didn't argue. "Well, I didn't see the supposed 'child.' Where is it now?"
Moon smirked. Hiding. Try and stay awake, Sunshine.
A sigh echoed through his head, and if he imagined hard enough, he could see Sunny sitting up in bed with the blanket wrapped around him. He giggled at the imagery—subsequently eliciting a terrified gasp from up ahead. He only caught a glimpse of those terrified eyes before the child threw themself down the slide.
In their shared headspace, Sunny cocked his head. Still unsure.
Fine. Moon would catch the child and prove it.
Closing his eyes, he amplified his hearing to pick up on the most minute details. It was a helpful little tool, one he used to use all the time during nap time. Useful for discerning which children were truly napping and which ones were faking—useful for finding the little troublemakers who thought they could hide from him.
Sharing this perspective with Sun, he tried to pinpoint footsteps or breathing, the rustling of clothes or the sound of little hands on metal bars.
shhf
"There," he whispered.
Sunny hummed. "The air conditioner?"
"It's trying to move slowly."
"Could still be a mouse."
He continued to wait.
thmp!
Sunny perked up. "I hear it."
Moon grinned. Good. Now help me.
He sprang down the slide and jumped out on the other side. Looking from side to side, he caught the little nuisance running out in the open. Sunny cried out from inside his head, sounding an alarm that Moon grew all too familiar with. With no cover, Moon sprinted at the child. Terrified gasps fueled his fervor, fueled his frenzied desire to finish this game, to win—
BANG!!
Down came the barrels. Moon scrambled to a halt as old programming suddenly took over—
As the barrels came crashing down, all he could think was to—
"Clean up, clean up!" His hands moved on his own, picking up the colorful things and stacking them neatly. Out of the corner of his eye, the little one scurried back into one of the play structures and disappeared.
Just as Moon finished placing the final barrel, a powerful light beamed down at him.
The light flashed in his eyes, effectively blinding him with the night vision. A pain-filled shriek ripped out of him. He covered his eyes, cowering away from the light, and for a moment, Sun's rays broke out of their head as the light half triggered their switch.
It wasn't enough. Though bright, the light was too weak to truly trigger the switch, eventually settling down as Moon stepped out of the way of the light. He heaved ragged gasps, and in their headspace, Sunny breathed pained whimpers.
"Nuisance," Moon hissed. He shook his head to clear out the pain and reset his visual processing. A quick self-scan showed minor damage to his optics, something Sunny grumbled about. Moon shoved the rays back in his head, and moving further from the light fully settled them back into their nap time mode. "Hush, Sunshine. They'll fix it in the morning."
"Just one more thing you broke tonight," Sunny sniffed. "Better watch out, Moon Moon. The kid's closing in on generator number three."
"Number three? But he only—" He looked around. Two lights on—just how long had he been out of commission!?
Clunk!
A third light flickered on.
The cable descended, and with an annoyed huff, Moon ascended.
Time to cheat.
He pulled up every security camera within the daycare, each with its own scanner and point of view. They had no audio, but he already had his processors tuned into nap time mode—he would hear anything before the cameras, anyway.
With several eyes on the daycare now, Moon zipped to one of the play structures and slammed into the bars. He snarled at the child on the other side, reaching through to yank him away from the generator, but he couldn't reach. He couldn't get the child away.
But he scared them. The child choked on air and scrambled back, away from the generator and away from Moon.
"You know, I'm almost offended at how much you don't want me out," Sunny grumped, but it held no bite.
Still, Moon flicked the side of his head and hissed. "Hush, you. Weren't you the one whining about sleeping?"
Sun had no response to that, just the childish image of himself sticking his tongue out at Moon. "Just finish it, already! Unless you want me to finish your game."
"No." Through the feeds, he could see the kid taking a roundabout route to the other generator. "I can finish this just fine."
Hands clutching at the bars, feet braced and ready to spring, he launched himself up and continued to scale the play structure toward the child. He was being loud, bells jingling and bars rattling, but he didn't care. The time to play was over—he'd long since found his opponent, and now all he needed to do was catch the little mouse.
An opening provided him with the opportunity to enter the play structure, and using his heat sensors, he quickly located the child—still far away from the generator but quickly closing in. Giggling manically, he scuttled forward, uncaring at all the noise he was making. The kid faltered for a moment before making a run for it. Sunny cackled in their head as Moon sped up, crawling on walls and ceilings, closing in on the little nuisance until he could finally see him, could reach out to grab him—
Something flew at their head. Moon had only half a second to register that something was coming before it slammed into their face.
Heavy metal impacted against their face plate. Something cracked! Moon scrambled back, shaking and dizzy, half blind and scrambling to coordinate himself to give chase. Bits of plastic and metal rained down as he tried sitting up. Pain radiated out of his face, the red noise filling his audio processors drowning out his pained whimpers.
He managed to get his hands under him. Managed to lift himself up to his knees. More plastic and metal rained down—was that coming from his face? One shaking hand raised to touch, but his other arm started shaking too violently, so the first one slammed back down on the ground.
Moon didn't know how long he spent there, shaking and dizzy and trying to coordinate his limbs enough to crawl out of this wretched place.
It was long enough to hear two clunks!, long enough for the lights to come back on full force.
~.~.~
The Daycare Attendant's favorite game was hide and seek—ask any child, and this was the answer they would give.
It was the perfect game! It included everyone, kept the naughty kids busy, and gave Sun a chance to rest. For Moon, it was a very nice quiet game for the kids who couldn't or wouldn't lay down for a nap.
And it happened to tire out their opponents so nicely.
Moon caught the girl by the ankle. By now, she and Sun played so many games that her stamina had run all the way out. He inwardly applauded his partner—he was always so efficient at tiring out kids before nap time.
The little girl struggled in his grasp, but he could already feel the fatigue in her limbs and see the exhaustion in her eyes.
"Aw, it's okay, little one," he cooed, and he reveled in the fear in her eyes. "Moon's here to make the nightmare go away."
He made sure to look at her. He made sure she was looking at him.
His eyes glowed a brighter red, the red circles bleeding out into his black scleras. He could see the black rings reflected on her face, pulsing rhythmically. Her own eyes widened, and her face grew slack.
This method was not guaranteed to work, but with her fatigue and exhaustion, he hoped this easy way would put her to sleep. It wasn't his preferred method, but unfortunately, the higher-up liked them intact.
Made their own game more fun.
Thankfully, her eyes slipped closed. As soon as Moon knew she wouldn't wake up, he slung her over his shoulder and took her out of the daycare and into the service tunnels.
~.~.~
The transformation burned. They screamed and cried as the face plate, shattered and half gone, twisted and spun the night cap away, replacing it with rays that clung on for dear life.
When the shift finished, Sun shuddered and shook under the bright lights. His one working eye found the little troublemaker, and irritation flooded his system as the little snot raced out the double doors with a security badge in hand and his chest puffed out proudly.
"This is all your fault," he hissed. Now that he felt more stable, he lifted off his hands and carefully inspected the damage.
The crescent was completely shattered with spiderweb cracks spreading from his right eye—completely out of commission. The rays on that side felt unstable; he didn't dare risk moving them.
In fact . . .
Bracing himself, Sun reached up and grabbed one of the loose rays. The wires connecting them to his face still held—this was gonna hurt.
Before he could second guess himself, Sun yanked the ray out, stifling the cry that wanted to escape. He did the same with the remaining three loose rays on that side.
The shuddering came back full force. Four rays, all completely intact, laid in front of him. Couldn't risk them getting caught mid shift, so better to tear them out himself.
"That was unnecessary," Moon griped. "We have tools."
"Yeah, well I'm not dealing with that!" Sun snapped back. He settled back on his heels and stared down at the pieces of metal and plastic, at the four rays he'd had to tear out of his head. "So? What do we do now?"
Moon snarled. Sun echoed the sentiment—it released some of his own tension, at least, even if it didn't fix their situation. "You can stay here, Sunny," he growled. "Our game isn't over yet."
"Good. Cuz I'm going back to sleep." And he laid down right there inside the play structure, settled among broken plastic and metal and his four rays. "Good night, Moon Moon."
"Good night, Sunshine."