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luminitewrites · 2 years

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Palaces of Purgatory

Heya! After reading the incredible series that is @naffeclipse's Sleuth Jesters, I felt compelled to write a little something inspired it. This is a drabble that takes place shortly after the events of the final fic in the series, so a few of the same warnings from 'Fire on Fire' will apply here. It is, of course, not canon at all to the series — just a what-if scenario. The Detective AU is by starlightcloudbaby.

Thank you, Naff, for letting me share this ficlet and for creating an amazing story with such lovable characters. Hope you enjoy this fun little AU spinoff <3

Rating: T (SFW) Word Count: ~14K Content Warnings: Aftermath of death, violence, possessive behavior, a broken bone, perceived hallucinations, trauma, mind games, and an inability to determine reality from nightmares.

(14K words can still be considered a drabble, right?)

You’re swept up in the sweet moments spent with your detectives, swapping brief kisses that sometimes turn heavy, and the thought of “honeymoon phase” does flick through your mind before you squash it like a bug. That’s a little too involved for you… at least for the immediate future.

You spend long days leaning against Moon as he works on cases and snatching his hat while he recharges, only for him to release an exasperated, robotic sigh every time he “wakes” up again and has to reclaim his hat. You quite enjoy wearing it when he lightly grips your chin and kisses you. And each time, you feign ignorance of him using the opportunity to grab his hat because it still counts as a win in your book.

Your late nights are spent chatting happily with Sun while he tries to clean around you. It’s quickly becoming a favorite hobby of yours to sit on the countertop while he’s disinfecting it, and when he tries to move you, you snag his suspenders and tug him into a kiss he all too easily goes along with.

But there are less pleasant moments too.

You give Sun and Moon the space they haven’t asked for but need. Eclipse’s death lingers heavily in the detectives’ shadows. They’re mourning as privately as they can, and you can’t help but feel responsible for their grief. You know they’d never fault you for what you did, and both have expressed their gratitude to you separately, but that doesn’t cancel out the hurt that follows.

More often than not, one or both have disappeared to the rooftop. You leave them be in those hours. They’re not enjoying the scenery when they’re up there.

But life, as people say, goes on. And eventually, they have to pick up the pieces of their shattered familial ties and trudge forward.

Moon returns to work swiftly, but Sun hangs back an extra day to recover. Even without frail human limitations, he’s still returning from a near-death experience. It probably doesn’t help him sleep knowing that it’s his deceased brother’s celestial wire that keeps him alive.

You’re as patient and gentle with them as you dare without letting it become overbearing. You still trade quips and flirty smiles, but you’re mindful about reading the room whenever it seems a little more grey than usual. Family is complicated. Even family who turned out for the worst. You won’t make light of that regardless of what you may think of Eclipse.

Which is to say… complicated. You know that you hate—hated—him. He did unspeakable things to not just you but innocent people. He burned with a lust for controlling the city, and you know that if he’d had his way, he wouldn’t have stopped with just this place. He wouldn’t have been satisfied with overpowering one location. He would have extended his reach even further, setting more fires and taking more land and lives that weren’t his, and it terrifies you to think of what that kind of future would have looked like.

But you’d hesitated when he’d said you loved him just as much as you hated him. He’d stared at you with such conviction, assured that he was right. And though you’d denied him his affections for a final time, his words have continued to follow you ever since. His ghost lingers strongly in your waking moments and in your sleep. You feel haunted and that your thoughts aren’t your own.

So why can’t you believe that maybe he wasn’t wrong? Why can’t you dismiss his last words as just the mad ramblings of a dying animatronic? Why is this bothering you so much?

You’ve spoken not a word of it to the detectives. Hell knows they have enough on their plates dealing with their own trauma. They don’t need you dumping yours onto it.

In the meantime, while quietly wrestling with your inner demons, you’ve been taking things easy as your body heals. It’s very much not fair how quick the detectives can spring back into action while you have to wait for your wounds to mend at a snail’s pace. The broken bones have taken the longest, and you’ve been kept on an unofficial house arrest in the detectives’ apartment. A broken rib is nothing to sneeze at. If it punctures a lung, you will be escorted to the hospital, and you really don’t want to chance that.

To soften the blow, Sun and Moon had revealed the bed they’d at some point set up for you in the guest room so that you wouldn’t have to spend another set of weeks on the couch. It’s incredibly kind of them and does very fluttery things to your chest that you absolutely ignore. But confinement is still a prison, and you are about to start scratching at the walls if you don’t get better soon.

You’re desperate for any kind of action in the typically quiet apartment, and that’s why you’re not at all prepared for the sound of the front door bursting open.

“I’ve got a lead!” you hear Sun shriek, and you very nearly press your head into your hands from the panic that almost sent you spiraling into.

Moon offers you an apologetic grimace and then rolls out of your bed from where he’d been lounging as he read a case file. You immediately miss his presence, so with great effort, you push to your feet as well and follow him out of the room.

Sun is splaying out a folder of papers on the coffee table with rapid-moving fingers, and you watch in a bit of a delayed reaction.

“Sun,” Moon sighs, remarkably more hushed than his partner, “There are other people in this complex. And what are you talking about? What lead?”

Yellow rays spin around in a blur as he looks up, and his grin shines. His blue pupils seem to sparkle with elation.

“About the case we’ve been working on, of course!” He twists the file around to face Moon. “I think I’ve found the address of whoever delivered those packages to Eclipse. Now it’s just a matter of finding and getting him to talk so we can know where at least one of Eclipse’s safe houses could be. We’re another step closer to busting it and maybe having a chance at finally dismantling the rest of the gang and cutting off any other mob connections!”

You hear Moon’s processor kick up a notch. “You were able to piece that together already? I would have thought it’d take much longer to look through all those record books,” he says thoughtfully and approaches the coffee table to get a closer look. He sits cross-legged on the floor and peruses the documents Sun excitedly pushes his way.

“It would have, but I maybe persuaded one of the receptionists to lend me a hand to cut down on time.”

Moon offers a dry rumble that you’ve since learned is his lighter version of a laugh.

Though your curiosity keeps you observing, you remain in the doorway to the living room, your feet unexpectedly rooted to the floor. You’re hesitating—or to put it more accurately, frozen—and it doesn’t take long for the others to notice.

It was just a single mention of Eclipse. Just one drop of his name, and that was enough to toss caution into your next move.

You’ve heard the detectives say his name prior to this. Often in heavier tones that betray the state of their grief. But this is the first time you’ve heard it in the same breath as Eclipse’s still powerful ties, and for a shocking second, you’re thrust back into the past to a time where he’s still alive and a prowling threat. Even now, he has an effect on you.

Sun calls your name, and you look up. His grin looks more uneven, his optics pensive and his expression compassionate. You out of everyone in this room deserve the least pity. It’s not fair for either of the detectives to have to walk on eggshells around you.

You push a smile and continue into the room as if nothing happened.

“This must be a pretty big break for you,” you say.

You eye the floor space next to Moon and weigh the pros and cons of trying to sit down and then get up from that distance. Sun makes the decision for you by reaching out and lightly directing you to join him on the couch. His hands are warm and tender where they wrap around your hips as he helps you sit down.

Okay, this is definitely too much attention. You’re not made of glass.

And while you’d normally be delighted to have the detectives’ hands on you, it feels a bit too reminiscent of another time, especially in the wake of Sun’s declaration. You know he couldn’t and wouldn’t ever be like his older brother. But the memories of the bruises still remain even though they’ve long since healed.

As delicately as you can, you curl your hands around Sun’s and pry them off. He immediately lets go, and that more than anything gives you comfort you really shouldn’t need.

Moon’s eyes watch you all the while. They don’t turn black, but you can tell his processor is running a mile a minute. Time to redirect.

With a curious hum, you lean forward and snatch one of the papers decorating the coffee table.

There’s a squawk of protest next to you, but neither detective tries to make a grab for it, so you assume this is one case file they aren’t too concerned about you getting your hands on. Given your history with the former mob boss, that isn’t much of a shock.

You scan the document. It’s a business transaction dated earlier this year. A payment for animatronic parts that was signed by the recipient. Nothing overtly stands out to you about it, and after a moment, you look up at Sun in confusion.

“Might have to spell out the details for me a little more, darling. I’m not seeing the connection.”

From where he flips through another series of papers, Moon says dryly, “You’ve looked at maybe one percent of the file.”

You fake a pout. “It’s not my job to stare at tedious receipts for hours on end. Maybe I just need a handsome pair of detectives to give me the lowdown.”

Sun huffs, but he scoots closer to you all the same with the same frenetic energy he’s exhibited since coming home and leans down to point to a blurb of text on the paper.

“Look here. This is the description of the items that were purchased on this date. And here,” his finger glides down lower, “is the model number of the ordered parts. Animatronics all have a special type of number to distinguish them by manufacturer as well as design. Moon and I were of course made by the same group. The supplier we rarely request parts from must have the specific model number of our bodies in order to send any proper replacements.”

Understanding begins to click. “And so this number here is…”

Sun makes an affirmative noise. “It’s the exact same as ours. Eclipse also came from the manufacturer we were created by, though it’s more apt to say he was an earlier model and was designed first. There’s few who have remotely similar designs to us, at least in this city. We were special ordered by the clients who purchased us, so we all bear a celestial motif. That also affects the model number and makes it rather unique.”

As Sun explains this, he leans closer all the while, lost in his words. Normally, you would be too—content to be immersed in the world of the detective’s mind. But you’re becoming less and less aware of what he says and more and more focused with heightened sensitivity on his sun rays as they accidentally press against your neck.

You go from a moment of intrigue to looming, abrupt anxiousness.

You’re utterly silent as Sun rambles on, locked in place. Your heart races with your ripening fear as more awful thoughts flood in.

The paper is incomprehensible to you. None of the words register as you stare blankly ahead and try to keep your breathing calm.

Moon happens to glance up in the next moment, and this time, his eyes do flash black.

“Sun,” he says hastily, sharp but quiet as if to not spook you further.

To his credit, the other detective stops talking right away. You can feel his rays dig in further as he looks from Moon and then over to you. You don’t meet his gaze.

Recoiling at your expression, Sun leans away instantaneously. Guilt festers in you right away. This is so ridiculous. Sun isn’t him. He could never be him.

Your pulse thunders in your skull and at the tips of your fingers. This might be turning into a problem you’ll have to address soon.

Over your dead body, that is.

“Are you alright?” Sun hesitantly asks.

Silly question. Silly detective. You’ve never been better.

You aim one of your prettiest smiles at him. That same haunted feeling you’ve been getting for weeks is reflected in Sun’s optics. It mocks you, and you think you might be going crazy when you imagine yellow pupils instead.

“I’m peachy keen, sugarplum,” you remark with a wink. “Just had something caught in my throat. So you were saying about the model number…?”

Your name crackles from Moon’s voice next. You don’t bother looking at him. You know what you’ll see there—the same as Sun.

It’s a very awkward minute of stillness. Nothing but the faint echoes of city life and the whirring sounds of the detectives’ servos. They’re waiting for you to actually address whatever just happened, and though the knot in your throat feels thick and your palms are a little sweatier than usual, you’re not going to acknowledge it. You’re not damaged goods. You’re not. Eclipse won’t take this last fragile peace from you.

You pointedly clear your throat and teasingly wave the paper at Sun. He stares hard for another devastatingly long second. It almost seems like he’s not going to let you have this.

But then, he releases a resigned sigh of static, and your shoulders relax. As he resumes discussing the connections he’s made in the document, his brother watches on warily. You know they’re both paranoid about your health. You won’t give them reason to question your grasp on reality too.

With your focus renewed, you listen to Sun explain how the transaction is actually one of many, the stack of papers on the table holding quite a few of them. And it’s by your luck that a couple have the signature of not just the recipient but also the deliverer. With the name available to him, Sun has been able to track down the person’s address in the city’s public records. And if they can find this individual and question them, then the chance of learning about where these parts were delivered will go up exponentially.

You whistle as Sun wraps up the less-enthusiastic recounting of his work. “You’ve been busy,” you say appreciatively.

Sun emits a sound akin to a cough. “I’ve done only half the work. Moon played a large role in getting us to this point.”

You at last work up the nerve to look at Moon again. The other animatronic doesn’t have darkened optics anymore, but he looks far from happy.

Maybe with a little prodding, he’ll come out of his funk. You reach out with your foot under the coffee table and poke him in the leg. Impressively, his grin could be mistaken for a scowl as he squints at you. Your face beams.

“So what part did you have in all this impressive work, Detective Moon?”

His pupils roll. It’s obvious what you’re trying to do, but the difference is you know that he’s aware. Gives you more control over the situation. Easier to deflect and tease.

“I handled finding the transactions detailing the same model number as us. Sun tracked down the person of interest.”

“Huh.” You lean back to sink deeper into the couch. So all those long days of Moon poring over paperwork were spent finding these exact clues.

You frown thoughtfully. “Where did you even find these documents? Sounds like looking for a needle in a haystack.”

That makes the detectives eye each other. Uh oh. It had better not be time for keeping more secrets. You are not in the mood of being left in the dark.

Whatever transpires between the two, they come to a decision, and Moon’s faceplate tilts your way once more. “With Eclipse gone, much of his work has been ruined. But a lot more of that was rattled before, with his gang being taken down in swaths. As I’m sure you know.”

You smirk.

Moon continues. “The disruption put a lot of people out of a job—if you could call being a gang member an occupation. Some were relying on that income heavily. Those who survived or had family members surviving them were desperate for some cash. We brokered a deal with those willing to exchange information… at a cost. None are willing to speak with us face to face for obvious reasons. But they’ve offered several boxes of documents that were destined for the trash but were never properly disposed of before Eclipse’s passing.”

Moon shudders to a halt at that. He looks away unseeingly while rubbing his fingers along the rim of his faceplate. His eyes dim, and you can only imagine what kind of thoughts are going through his head now. You and Sun wait patiently for him to continue, but when he stays silent, the other detective picks up for him.

“We’ve been given no location or anything that could indict any of his gang. But those who were involved are struggling for cash.”

You blink at him. “Detective, I know your job is certainly nothing to laugh at, but that kind of sum of money you’re implying sounds rather… exorbitant.”

“We know,” Sun says, the words sending an odd shiver up your spine.

Moon presses both hands to his head then. Sun remains very still and unfocused as his own dangle limply between his long legs. You’re starting to get the impression that this is a lot more involved than you’d initially expected.

You purse your lips and breathe deeply. It’s a debate over whether this is something you should let go or not. It’s beyond important, and your curiosity will be the death of you, but you want to respect what could be a hard boundary here.

Deciding to wait it out, you fold your hands in your lap and give them time to think. After all this time, he’s still finding ways to hurt your detectives.

Damn you, Eclipse.

“We received a note from the bank teller shortly after Eclipse was gone,” Moon breathes. “Either someone there was still on his payroll or had worked out a deal with him somehow. But we were informed that Eclipse’s monetary fortune, all of it, was transferred to our account.”

“What?” you gasp.

“His possessions are still at his safe houses, I assume. I suspect he didn’t anticipate us receiving those, and given how his gang has been destroyed, those safe houses very well may have been ransacked already.” Moon’s voice trembles. You gape wide-eyed as he adamantly avoids eye contact while speaking. “But he made sure that we received all of his money. It’s effectively cut off the rest of his gang from being paid out anymore.”

“That’s why we thought it best to use Eclipse’s money this way,” Sun says mournfully. “We know we could be just endorsing a worse habit by doing this, but we also know what it’s like to suddenly have nothing. Moon and I believe in justice as well as second chances. The probability of these former gang members taking the money and then just finding another gang to join is high… But the prospect of showing them some kindness that they might not have seen before—along with the hope that they will change for the better—outweighs the bad. At least in this scenario.”

Moon nods and drops his hands from his face. You’ve not seen such a weary expression since the night you all escaped Eclipse. A stone sits in your belly, and your chest constricts from the tightness curling around it. You don’t know what to think. You would sooner make sure no other criminals get to walk free after willingly joining the mafia. But Sun and Moon also have a point. A very difficult point to swallow or refute.

You can see now why they’ve kept this from you.

This almost feels worse than when you’d been a physical punching bag just weeks ago. This feels… dirty.

But who are you to condemn people who were just trying to survive? You’d been in much the same position when under Afton’s tutelage. You’d had no home, and he’d offered you one. How does that compare with the gang members now trying to put food on the table?

You’re no better than them.

Quietly, you reach over and grasp Sun’s hand in yours. His white gaze travels from your interlocked fingers to your face. Your smile is maybe a little more wobbly than usual, but it’s there, and that’s what matters. You then hold out your other hand to Moon and make a grabbing motion. Seconds tick by as his optics dig into you. He might have been designed to not emote, but the grief is rife in every dip and curve and swirl. You wish nothing more to rub it all away.

You make a small noise and continue to beckon him over. Moon’s pupils finally flick down to your hand, and like a timid creature, he unfolds from his place on the floor and walks over to you. He doesn’t say a word as the three of you sit on the couch, but his cool hand slips into yours and holds tight.

The evening trickles on. Words seem next to impossible in the aftermath of what you’ve learned, of what Sun and Moon have apparently been shouldering in the weeks you’ve been in bed. You feel as though you can offer little solace as you are, but you try anyways for them.

“You’ll find his safe houses,” you whisper. “You’ll bring an end to the damage he’s done and find the missing pieces you need to close this case. For good.”

Sun sighs. “We’ll certainly try, love.”

Your head whips so fast, your hair slaps Moon in the face, and he sputters. You don’t spare that any mind at all, eyes popping wide as you gawk at Sun. “Love? Did I hear that right? Have I earned a new pet name?”

The hesitant but warm smile Sun gives you wraps all over your frame and quickens your pulse. “I thought it was fitting. I could choose a different one, if you’d prefer.”

“No!” you say much too quickly, and despite the former mood of the room, Moon gives a very suspiciously timed cough that does little to conceal his choked laugh. You squeeze his hand while knowing it’ll just amuse him further. “No, that’s fine. I mean you can try out different nicknames too, of course. Don’t have to stick with just one. I only meant— Well, it sounds nice, is all. I like it.”

Sun chuckles as your face begins to glow from your rambling. He winks a bright optic. “Alright, your preference has been noted.”

And just like that, you become a little more entrenched in your relationship with the detectives.

The events of that night, as you will come to realize later on, were the first signs you should have noticed.

~~~

The detectives double down on their work in the ensuing days. They’re determined to put this to a rest, and though you’re aware of the kind of confidential documents that could be contained at any of the safe houses—documents that could reveal implicating evidence of other gangs and propel the police department into executing a massive amount of arrests—you also have the sneaking suspicion that this is about more than that.

Sun and Moon have had their metaphorical noses to the ground while trying to wrap this up. There’s less time spent relaxing when they’re home. It’s turning into a fervor as their work follows them at all hours of the day and night. This is the most dogged you’ve seen them in ages.

This isn’t about cutting down crime in the city. This is about closure.

There’s little to be had in the wake of Eclipse’s death. His end was riddled with horror and heartache. Regardless of whatever issues you’re dealing with in your nightmares, it’s nothing when held up against the detectives’. You experience self-loathing every time you wake up with a scream and see one of them hovering over you with immense sadness. They shouldn’t be focused on you at all, and it’s starting to drive you out of your skin at how you’re powerless to do something about it.

The thought of leaving has crossed your mind. At least then they wouldn’t have to handle you like glass and could focus on themselves. But you know they’d still worry regardless.

And where would you even go? You have no more safe houses. You can thank Eclipse for that, which you most certainly will not.

As soon as you’re well enough, you aim to get a place of your own. Can’t have your boys always knowing what you’re up to after all. Part of your allure is your mystery. And you miss the times they’d suspect you were up to no good.

Your bones ache to be back on the streets, fighting crime in your own way.

Tonight, it’s you and Sun in the apartment that’s starting to feel a little claustrophobic. He’s still hard at work, but you’ve managed to at least sneak onto his lap sideways. His arm supports your back while his other hand leafs through more records.

You wiggle your toes and dig them into the arm of the couch with a ragged exhale.

Sun’s head tilts above you. “What’s wrong?”

You flop the back of your hand dramatically over your forehead and groan petulantly. Your weight sags against his arm, and he doesn’t even flinch from the extra pressure.

“I’m so bored,” you bemoan.

A slight tut is the response you get. You peek at him and find he hasn’t looked away from his work. Darn.

“Am I supposed to take that as a hint somehow?”

Yes.

You can think of a few ways he could take that hint.

“You’re always so busy lately,” you say, lifting your hand from your head to fiddle with his tie instead.

Sun offers another noncommittal sound. You want to kick in frustration but unfortunately know exactly how he’d react to that kind of attitude. The animatronic is in some ways an equal match for your stubbornness.

You’ve got to finesse him into giving you the attention you need.

You tug tauntingly on his tie, but he doesn’t even react. Ugh.

There’s no mistaking the amusement in his voice when he finally answers after several more tugs. “I thought you said you hope we wrap up this case. Isn’t this what you want?”

“I want you to kiss me,” you mutter grouchily.

Well, that seems to have the intended effect you’re searching for because he sets down the paper in his hand with a very overdramatized huff and at last stares down at you. Unflinching, you furrow your brow and maybe push out your bottom lip just a bit, but you’re not pouting. There’s a very clear difference here.

Sun’s blue eyes watch you evenly, and you hold out hope for maybe getting your way.

“What am I to do with you,” he scolds.

You smile coquettishly. “I think you can figure that one out.”

“Hmm.” Sun leans closer, and on impulse, your heartbeat kicks up. His arm is warm at your back, and his fingers draw slow, teasing shapes along the sliver of bare skin at your waist where your shirt has ridden up.

You are not a ticklish person by any means, but that doesn’t stop your body from suddenly deciding it’s time to change that.

Sun clearly relishes watching you try not to squirm. His grin takes on a different light, gleaming with mischief. “Sensitive?”

You swallow. “No…”

“I don’t know about that,” he murmurs, and he’s now close enough that it wouldn’t take much at all for him to kiss you.

Your hands are wringing his tie and vest, which you only notice a little too late. This whole being off your game is starting to get a little old. What happened to you flustering your detectives? This isn’t how it’s supposed to go, but you’re slipping. Badly.

So maybe you are enjoying it in the moment, but that doesn’t excuse the persistent warmth you can feel in your cheeks. Has the apartment always been this hot?

Sun gently pries one of your hands off his front and then presses the tips of your fingers feather-light to his teeth. He stares at you all the while. You feel like you’re going to melt.

The second he lets go, you reclaim your hold on his tie and yank him close. Sun laughs into the kiss, but his grin against your lips feels far too good for you to voice a complaint, so you let him have this one. You kiss him deeply, uttering a soft moan of happiness when his hand shifts from your waist to cradling the back of your head. His other hand plants firmly against the couch on the other side of your head.

When he pulls back, his eyes slip open just a crack, heavy with delight. His rays cut the air, and you stifle a laugh at the telling reaction. Yeah, you expected that he’d enjoy it.

You smile at him and follow the swirl at his cheek with your thumb. Sun giggles lightly, and you follow suit.

“How was that?” he asks, playful.

You briefly look up to the ceiling like you’re pondering a deep philosophical question. “Hard to say, really. It was over so quick, I’m just not sure I can say how it felt.” You give him an innocent once-over. “Guess we’d have to try again to make sure.”

Sun’s laughter is melodic. You grin cheekily, and he returns the favor of you exploring his face by mapping the curve of your own. “Well, we can’t accept inconclusive results. I have to be very thorough in my work as a detective, you know. It’d be very bad press if I didn’t have a straight answer.”

“Better hurry up before your case goes cold then.”

Sun taps the tip of your nose once. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

With the speed and deadliness of a thunderclap, your heart drops. Between one instant and the next, it’s not Sun holding you in his lap. It’s not Sun pinning you under his gaze. Your mouth parts, and your lips quiver.

“W-what… What did you—”

At your sharp, shell-shocked expression, Sun pauses with a frown, confused. His pupils vanish while alarm fills his white eyes. “What? Is something wrong?”

You can’t breathe. You need room.

“Please let me go,” you hear yourself say, and Sun releases you right away.

Unfortunately, that means your back bounces on the couch, which does very little good for injuries, but you don’t care. You need space, you need a weapon, you need anything to protect yourself.

Your name is called in a rasp of air, and you scramble off the couch to put distance between you and whatever is haunting you.

This is where it happened last time too. A figment of your imagination, your night terrors following you into the day. You stumble a few steps away, wild and disoriented. Sun gapes and appears at the ready to push himself from the couch, but the slightest movement has you shrinking back, so he stops in place.

He says your name again, and it sounds broken and hurt. You’re not aware of how violently you’re trembling until you grip the edge of a nearby desk to steady yourself. Like a frightened animal. You’re treating Sun like he’d hurt you, but he’s done nothing to deserve that reaction, so why—

Sun moves again, and you don’t flinch this time, but you studiously watch him, waiting for that awful vision to come back. Your hand slips to your hip where your gun would be if you’d kept it on you.

But you don’t have it now, and you shouldn’t need it because this is a safe place. No one will hurt you here, and you repeat that thought to yourself over and over like a mantra until your pounding heart starts to believe it too.

In a calming gesture, Sun holds up his hands and keeps every motion small as he approaches in incredibly little steps. You keep him in your sight at all times. He stops a short distance from you but hunched over as if to curl in on himself and make you feel taller.

You feel like grabbing your head and shaking it until the panic falls out.

What is wrong with you? Why such an overreaction to Sun? Why such strangling fear like he’s someone else?

He didn’t do anything to you. He didn’t say anything to hurt you. He only said…

He only said.

A sedate clarity oozes past your irrational distress. Without your consent, a rush of flashbulb memories illuminate the source of your emotional state.

A face-to-face gunfight that should end in your death but leads to you gaining something much worse. A shadow following your every step for days that bleed into weeks that bleed into months. A deal agreed upon between you and your shadow to save your detective’s life. A desperate attempt to hide only to be found and dragged along right before your shadow’s hungry ogling. A battle between wits, a payment of no small favor, an endless stretch of time locked away like a bird in a cage. A car ride to your fate, a refusal to abide by the shadow’s rules, an almost fatal getaway. A dark rescue in an alley, a demand for you to heel, a desperate play that almost costs you, a temporary escape.

The final attempt to fly to freedom only to be caught again. Your ultimatum to take his life in your hands or burn with him.

All of them center around one entity whose cruel obsession was backed by hissed promises threaded together in a single word.

Sweetheart.

It tumbles raggedly from your lips. Sun’s gaze remains imploring, and his head tilts at your voice.

“What do you need?” he says softly.

You manage to swallow the dryness in your throat. It feels tight, phantom hands sealing it shut.

“Please don’t call me that,” you force yourself to say. It’s whisper-quiet. “Don’t call me sweetheart.”

Thankfully, you don’t need to say why. The much-delayed understanding overtakes Sun’s face now. You hate that he knows. There shouldn’t need to be anything for him to have to realize. This shouldn’t be a problem.

He nods. Ever so patient, he holds his hand out, palm up, an offering. Your hands shake with the rest of you, but you force your panic to shove off so that you can at least have this. Your fingers glide across his palm, and like he’s cupping something precious, Sun curls his own around yours.

“Alright,” he says. His white eyes don’t move as he keeps watch over you, and like a broken record, you fall into his embrace yet again. “I apologize. I won’t ever say it again.”

You don’t have the strength to find your voice after that, but you do snag fistfuls of his shirt and vest and hang on for dear life. Sun, blessedly, doesn’t say another word about it, and he rubs a warm hand at your back.

Neither of you breathe a mention of it to Moon later. It’s not a secret, but it doesn’t bear repeating.

As you lay in bed that night, you wonder why the pet name even crossed Sun’s mind.

~~~

Three days later, Moon and Sun have a location pinned down. It’s a residence roughly 30 minutes from the precinct, which correlates with what you can remember from your ride there. You don’t ask for the details of the questioning they’ve done in that time, but you can tell from their slouches that it’s been rough.

You’ve also been a bit tentative around Sun. He’s treating you much the same, but his is out of concern for your well-being, and yours is out of fear of seeing a ghost. You despise this irrationality that’s bloomed out of nowhere. This never used to be a problem. You never used to look at Sun and see Eclipse. The correlation just wasn’t there.

But ever since that fateful day in your safe house weeks ago, the similarities have begun to blend into one image. You look at Sun and see a dark shadow over his stare. You watch Sun moving around in the apartment, and your heart leaps into your throat as you imagine his footsteps are much heavier. You listen to Sun speak, and his voice glitches out and snarls with static in your hallucinations.

This may be a problem greater than you’d envisioned.

But you’ve been thinking hard during the time you’ve been under unofficial house arrest. Maybe the reason Eclipse’s ghost lingers is because his very core is nestled in Sun. Maybe you’re hearing and seeing things because you were the one who ripped it out of the mob boss’ chassis. Maybe if you hadn’t been the one to kill him, you wouldn’t be under this amount of stress.

Maybe you’re just going insane.

All possibilities that are better swept under the rug. You don’t have time to worry, so you decide not to. If you can fake being okay hard enough, your inner demons will have to eventually give up. Eclipse can’t haunt you forever.

That’s why you’re particularly insistent in joining the detectives on their trip.

“Absolutely not,” Moon says without hesitation.

He doesn’t even have the decency to look at you as he dons his coat. You’re more than a little irritated.

“Why? I have just as much reason to go as you do. And what if something bad happens?”

“The risk of something bad happening is exactly the reason you’re not going.” Moon tucks his gun into his holster and aims a pointed, red glare your way.

You are unfazed.

“I know I’m not quite back at my level best yet, but you really need to give me some more credit,” you retort, fists clenching at your sides. Your anger longs to surge up to give you some sort of emotional outlet after all this toil you’ve had to endure. Instead, you inhale very deeply and try to clear your thoughts.

“I’m not saying you aren’t good at what you do,” Moon says. There’s a little less frustration in his tone in the wake of your outburst. “Sun and I know you’re more than capable of handling yourself. But you are still healing, and I won’t make a rash decision just to please you.”

Your eyes slide closed, the beginnings of a headache forming. “Detective…”

A hand brushes against your chin. Moon tilts your head up, and you tiredly open your eyes again. His optics yield no signs of wavering. Your exhaustion feels insurmountable.

“We just got you back after nearly losing you,” he murmurs. “I can’t risk that again. I need to know you’re safe.”

“But how can I be sure of the same for you?” you press. “How will I know if you and Sun are okay?”

Moon leans in and presses a light kiss to your cheek. Your chest shudders around a breath, and for some strange reason, there’s a burning sensation when you blink, like you might cry. Those nightmares and hallucinations really are doing a number on you after all.

Caressing your hair, Moon says, “I’ve noticed how little sleep you’ve been getting. Please try to rest tonight. When you wake up, I promise we’ll be back.”

You stand there with him, nothing but the sound of the clock ticking and his servos humming. It has no reason feeling like a more permanent goodbye, yet everything within you shakes like it is. You’re starting to come to the acceptance that you’re not okay.

The instant his hand begins to leave your head, you quickly snatch it between your own.

Your lips press against his knuckles. You plead with your eyes for him to change his mind. The snapping threads of your hold on reality are almost gone.

You deserve this, but you can’t bear it.

“Please, Moon…”

The lunar animatronic gives a pained, static exhale. He gently squeezes your hand and then pulls free. Your arms drop back to your sides.

“Rest. We’ll be back soon.”

He walks away, and as you furiously blink back stupid tears, you notice that Sun has been watching your interaction all the while. You know intimately well that no matter how hard you attempt to reason with him, he’ll take Moon’s side. They work well together for a reason.

There’s a hollowness in his expression that wasn’t there before. It’s manifested ever since your incident with him, darkening his disposition. Yet another thing you can blame yourself for.

If you were out there with them and not stuck here, you could stop being deadweight.

Sun steps forward cautiously, once again walking on eggshells. You, however, throw caution to the wind and close the distance between you, wrapping him in a hug. He startles but is quick to recover. Sun holds you close, and you feel his faceplate tap the top of your head in a kiss.

With your face smooshed against his front, you mutter, “You’d better bring me back a cool trinket.”

Your companion snorts. “How does dinner sound instead?”

You consider. It doesn’t have a single bit of an appeal. But you don’t want them to think that yet another thing is broken with you.

Adding a haughty spin to your voice to conceal your true thoughts, you say, “Moving so quickly in our relationship already by getting me dinner? Detective, that’s so forward of you. I’m proud.”

Sun attempts a laugh, and you lean back just enough to see his grin. There’s your solar sleuth. A smile of your own emerges as Sun starts to play with your hair like Moon had done.

“We might get back late, but I’m sure we could still find someplace that’s open. Do you have a preference?”

It’d be so amusing to see his reaction if you said you’d like a bite of him, but you don’t think he’s ready for that kind of teasing just yet. That’s the advanced stuff. You’re having fun just playing on the beginner level with him.

But the thought of food just doesn’t sit well in your stomach at all. It churns unpleasantly, so you shrug. “Surprise me.”

Sun twirls your hair between his fingers for just a little longer. He’s likely holding up himself and Moon, but he’s choosing to give you these few moments. In what feels like the first time in forever, your sense of paranoia takes a backseat. With it no longer driving your every thought, you enjoy the reprieve and the simple peace you share with the detective.

All too soon, it comes to an end.

“Sun,” Moon calls, and you groan pitifully.

What you wouldn’t give to be snug under the blankets with them once again. Forget raiding dangerous safe houses probably laden with booby traps and tacky decor. You all should take a nap instead.

“Coming,” Sun says, and he stops playing with your hair to your dismay. “Like Moon said, we likely won’t be gone long. We’re going to play it safe, and if it looks like we might need backup, we’ll keep our distance.”

The air rushes out of your chest loudly. “I suppose I’ll just have to accept that.”

Sun’s hands frame your cheeks, and you return the kiss he presses to your lips. Not for the first time, you think about how unfair this is.

“Don’t stay up too late,” Sun adds against your lips. He’s bent so close that you almost think he’s using you to hide from Moon, who is impatiently waiting at the door. You’d like to see him try to pull that one off.

You offer a vague assent, and when you look into Sun’s optics, you swear you see golden pupils behind a black backdrop dancing in your vision.

Keep it together.

You quickly glance away and break free of the hug with a rough clearing of your throat. You do your best to dispel the image from your mind. The detectives are probably right that you need rest, but it’s a little hard when your nightmares become like tangible memories. Though if you’re seeing things at any point during the day, you can see the reasoning in sitting this one out.

Moon taps a foot. His attention snaps back to you, but you’re already brushing off the vision and smiling sweetly. His gaze turns suspicious, and you chuckle, pleased.

He wags a finger at you. “Go to bed. I expect you to get a few hours while we’re gone.”

“Yes, dear,” you sigh.

Moon rolls his eyes, and Sun lets out a puff of air. The pair of the city’s finest detectives open the door to their apartment and cast one last insistent look over their shoulders.

Stay put. Got it.

You offer a little wave, and they close the door behind them.

With both of them gone and the apartment to yourself, you struggle to keep the pieces of you glued together. They told you to sleep, and you will—or you’ll at least try. But first you just want to catch your breath.

The window grants a wonderful view of the city, but you want the full experience. As you slip out of the apartment, pins tucked into your sleeves, you ascend the stairs and head for the rooftop to see if that will help clear your mind.

~~~

To your immense relief, your detectives return later that night as promised, unharmed and well. You don’t know what you were expecting when they came back, but you’re surprised and relieved that their spirits seem lighter. Whatever they found at the safe house, it was what they’d subconsciously been searching for. It’s the first time in weeks they seem genuinely at ease. Your heart floods with warmth.

They offer more promises that they will fill you in on the details in the morning. You press that it is morning, albeit the very early hours. Neither of them are amused by this, and you’re forced to sit down and sulk through a few bites of Italian meatballs that they’d bought at a restaurant still open.

From there, it’s a quick trip to the bed. You try another stubborn, valiant attempt to pry about what went down tonight but are met with a wall of stony resistance that doesn’t falter once in the twenty-minute argument. It’s another brutal defeat, and your ego definitely takes a beating. You know that you’d be able to get your way if you just tried harder.

But then Sun lifts you into his arms and slips you under the covers so fluidly that you’re left blinking at what just happened. Just as fast, Moon presses up against your back, and Sun curves around your front, and as the last, finishing touch, both animatronics drape an arm over you.

You’re almost aghast at how they’ve used your greatest weakness against you: themselves. The last time all three of you had any chance to rest in bed together was prior to them jumping back into work. Loathe as you are to admit it now, especially when it’s being used as a clever tool to distract you, this is something you’ve more than missed.

It feels safe. It feels like home. You already know that when you drift off to sleep tonight, your dreams won’t touch you.

Begrudgingly, you tick yet another point on the detectives’ side of the scoreboard.

Despite your grumbling, not long after you’re sandwiched between your boys, you fall into a deep sleep that is disjointed and incoherent, but true to your prediction, the nightmares are kept at bay.

When you start to awaken to the sunlight streaming into the room, you yawn and stretch languidly. If this is the kind of sleep you can get with both detectives warming the bed, then you’ll gladly take it. For once, you don’t feel burdened by insomnia. All that’s there is a restlessness to be briefed on last night’s events.

Fighting the temptation to slip back into your dreams is a chore, but you want to get a sneak peek at Sun and Moon in hopes of catching one of them in their own version of sleep.

Releasing another yawn, you slowly invite feeling to seep back into your limbs aside from the loose, warm relaxation. A soft sound in front of you coaxes you to alertness, and you ready a “good morning” on your tongue. You rub sleep from your eyes and greet the day with the sight of Sun lying before you.

Black optics and thin yellow pupils shine like poison inches away.

Your breath stabs out all at once.

Like you’ve been encased in ice, your body doesn’t move an inch. But that’s okay because this is nothing new. You’re not used to it, but there’s no need for alarm. You just need to give it a second, and then the hallucination can go away, and you can see Sun again, and you’ll pretend like you always do that nothing is out of the ordinary. All you need is to just give it a moment and let your vision clear and—

Why isn’t it going away?

You tremble under the probing gaze that regards first your stricken face and then the bare length of your neck. It’s strong enough that you swear you feel fingers of steel clamping around it, cutting off oxygen that you can’t even find now. The subject of your nightmares drags his heavy leer back up your healed skin, and as he stares into your wide eyes, his grin gleams with sharp teeth.

You’re locked in a living night terror, and the devil has come to collect his due. Your blood rushes in your ears as you sit like a deer caught in headlights, awaiting a roaring fate.

Then you blink, and the image is gone.

It’s replaced by Sun, who’s worriedly saying your name. His blue pupils are a violent contrast to the razor-thin yellow. Once you’re certain the devil is gone, you gasp for air profusely. You’re thoroughly undone, and just like all the times before, you shudder unstoppably. You think you might be on the verge of seeing stars, and that’s when Moon tugs you into his lap, and you bury your face in his shoulder. He rocks you in place on the bed as you try to remember how to be human, how to breathe.

Sun is silent and stiff in place. You wish you had the willpower to reassure him that this isn’t his fault. What comes out of your mouth is broken and scrambled in a wheeze.

“I thought— I-I thought I saw…”

You can’t say it. Moon and Sun don’t ask you to clarify.

You should have seen the signs. You should have paid more attention.

It’s easier to write things off though. Pretend something was a silly coincidence or unfortunate error and then stash it in the closet with the other skeletons. If you don’t face your fears, you won’t have to acknowledge them.

Unfortunately, your panic attack is the straw that breaks the camel's back. You’ve kept a tight lid on your emotions up until this point.

Moon doesn’t let go while he continues to rock you like a child. Children need this kind of comfort—not you. You suddenly feel very small and lost, your hand clinging to gloved fingers as you’re led away from freedom by a man in a plum suit.

Moon’s voice tugs you from the pit of remembrance before you can sink deeper.

“Please tell us what’s going on. We can’t help you if we don’t know how.”

You shake your head. No, you won’t concern them with this. You are fine.

There’s a sly, hateful voice that constricts around your mind and croons that you aren’t. You haven’t been for a long time. That’s why they’ve noticed. If you’d just been able to keep it together, no one would have been the wiser.

To add insult to injury, the voice sounds like Eclipse. Maybe that is what clues you in to why you’re resisting so much.

Yes, you’ve been staunch in your belief that this is not an issue and can be dealt with on your own in time. You’ve lived on the streets and clawed your way out of the muck and learned to take care of yourself. You’re independent and strong, and that is what’s kept you alive and sturdy. And under all that rests a foundation that relates far too much to what Eclipse must have seen for himself.

You are prideful. You don’t want to let anyone see you as weak.

It’s this self-serving pride that has prevented you from reaching out for help. Even ignoring all other contributing factors to the pain you’ve felt, you have let your pride get in the way of any rational thought. You’ve been so absorbed in shoveling your issues down the drain that it’s starting to overflow and bubble out all the dirty baggage. In doing what you can to hide, you’ve created the very havoc you were trying to avoid.

That kind of awareness doesn’t strike gently.

Here, the detectives have given of themselves to share benevolence, empathy, and generosity with you. They’ve proven time and time again that they will fight for their lives to protect you, no matter if it puts them in harm’s way. How can they expect to trust you when you just continue to lie, not just to them but yourself as well? Surely, they deserve more than what you can give them.

That’s why it’s important that you start sharing a little of yourself too. You know as your chest rises and falls with each breath, forbidden words coming to the surface, that this is what needs to be done. Your ribs scream in protest like your heart is going to push right out of them.

“My nightmares are becoming more and more real,” you force out around a raw voice. It feels wrong to admit this aloud, but you’re desperate. You can’t lift this burden on your own shoulders anymore. The next inhale you take crawls down your throat like sand, and your mouth is the very desert. “I don’t know how to stop it. It follows me at all times, every day. No matter where I look, I see him…” Your eyes lift to Sun. “…In you.”

Sun’s face doesn’t change as he listens keenly. But you can’t help but think you’re only hurting him more in admitting this.

The detectives are quiet. They shouldn’t have to sit through your problems about seeing ghosts—Sun especially. They’re not your therapists, and you’d never expect as much from them. Aren’t they already weary enough from their own mourning? Aren’t they tired of your issues constantly stepping into the light and taking center stage?

Maybe you don’t know them as well as you’d thought. You know they won’t force you to share your demons, but they also won’t let this go. You’re sitting on a ticking time bomb, and sooner or later, they will find a way to ease you into telling them the truth.

Better to rip off the bandaid now and get it over with.

“I’m sure this is all just a silly case of little sleep,” you remark with a flat laugh and deprecating shake of your head.

“You’d be surprised,” Moon says then, and he isn’t mocking or angry at all like you’d expected. “Sleep deprivation is a powerful weapon. We’ve seen officers with too little sleep shoot at things that aren’t there.”

You frown. This seems a little less severe than what Moon is talking about. You’re not in any active danger, so you shouldn’t get to be grouped in with those who often are.

“I don’t think it’s that bad—”

“You just kicked at Sun like he was an intruder in your bed. If you’re experiencing strong enough hallucinations to not see someone you’d normally trust, then it is just as bad.”

Moon’s tone is gruff, but not harsh or reprimanding. If you didn’t know any better, you’d assume he was frustrated on your behalf.

Sun hasn’t said anything in all this, so you’re surprised when he voices his thoughts.

“Please don’t feel like you have to hide this from us,” he implores, sorrow entwined with his words. “We care for you—deeply. You don’t have to hide your own pain from us. Regardless of what you may think or what your nightmares might be telling you, we want to help. And you will never be a burden to Moon or me by sharing what’s hurting you. We’ll help you through this too, if you’ll let us.”

Responding to that in any cohesive way that doesn’t result in you breaking down into stunned tears is improbable. You’re enshrouded in emotion so thick, it hangs over you like a plush blanket. It’s intense to the point of being unbearable, but you don’t shy from it. You’re surrounded by the weight of Sun’s words, but you aren’t suffocating.

It’s just a lot to hear him say that. There’s nothing intelligible that comes to mind in response.

Luckily, you don’t get a chance to eek out another sound. There’s a knock at the door, and all three of you stiffen.

Moon huffs in annoyance before he begins to shift. “I’ll get it.”

“No, stay here with them,” Sun says, nodding to how you’re still folded up in Moon’s lap. “I’ll be right back.”

He steps out of the room, and you hear him answer the door a moment later. You can’t make out the voices, but given there’s no gunshots ringing through the air, it’s likely nothing serious.

A shootout might actually be preferable now, you dismally think. The day has barely started, and it’s already miserable. You’d love for some action to throw yourself into. Return to your work as a vigilante and break up some mob dealings. Maybe put some fear into another crooked politician.

As if sensing your thoughts, Moon tilts your head up to look at him. His red gaze glints without the brim of his hat to shield over them, and the displeased squint of them as the sunlight hits him reminds you of a cat.

He says something, and you’re a little slow to hear it or respond.

“What?” you say with full intelligence.

Calmly, he repeats himself. “Do you want us to stay out of your room while you sleep?”

Another unusual lull passes between you. You stare owlishly at him as if that will help make more sense of things. “Why on earth would I want that?”

“You’re more vulnerable in your sleep. Perhaps there’s some subconscious element that recognizes you’re not alone in bed. If we give you some space, maybe that will help with your nightmares, both waking and in sleep.”

You’re already shaking your head before he finishes. No, you don’t like the sound of that at all. Just because you’re seeing a ghost in Sun around every corner doesn’t mean you want to be alone. You’d much rather continue on as if nothing is wrong at all. Eclipse doesn’t get to take this away from you too.

The detective grunts at your immediate refusal, but he doesn’t punt you out of his lap right away, so that’s a plus.

“Just think about it,” he urges.

You give an exaggerated hum. “Mm, okay, I thought about it.”

You sniffle a bit and manage a smile at the exasperated heave of your name from the detective. Like a couple of puzzle pieces, you secure yourself further in his embrace by snuggling a little closer to him. For an animatronic, he has a rather cozy lap, and you intend to make full use of it. Your head rests on his shoulder, a quiet breath expelling from your lips. Your eyelids lower when Moon tucks you just a little more against his chassis.

You’re drifting off when you remember that you still haven’t learned of what the detectives found in their search. That conversation has been reasonably derailed, and your thirst for information is infinite. But you decide you can wait a little longer for now. Your boys aren’t going anywhere you can’t follow after all.

Sometime later, you almost don’t hear Sun return to the guest room. He sinks lightly on the mattress, and you almost flinch but just manage to hold it back.

Softer than a whisper, he says, “I really don’t want to leave you now, especially with how you’re feeling, but…”

You crack open an eye and wryly smirk at him. “Detective Sun, are you trying to use me to get out of work today?”

You’re more than glad at the eye roll that garners. It’s better this way. Less intense.

The solar detective still hesitates, and he shifts his deep blue pupils from you to his brother. “Will you be—”

“Of course,” Moon answers before he can finish. His arms are secure around you. “I’ll make sure they stay out of trouble. Go fight some crime.”

Sun snickers, and you offer him a balmy smile. You lean forward, and uncertainty flashes in his expression, but you don’t stop until you give him a quick kiss. For good measure, he reciprocates by adding a second one to the tip of your nose. There. This is how your interactions should be. Just simple, mindless bliss.

The detective stands and heads over to the room where he and Moon store their clothes. You listen to him get dressed for the day while you rub your cheek against the soft material of Moon’s shirt. Falling asleep is swiftly getting kicked up on your list of priorities. Your stomach has other plans though and lets out a traitorous growl.

Moon is lifting you off his lap in a blink despite your petulant groan.

“C’mon. Up. Come eat breakfast.”

You flop onto bed, not a single ounce of intent to get out. “We don’t have anything. You haven’t gone grocery shopping for my dumb human needs,” you sourly snap into a pillow.

You yelp when hands latch around your ankles and yank you down to the edge of the bed. Shocked, you twist on your side and gape at Moon and his audacity. He stares back, unyielding.

“We have leftover meatballs. You can have those. Up.”

You consider the pros and cons of refusing further, but when Moon’s glare hardens, you know you won’t win this one.

You make sure that every bite of your meatball breakfast is joined by a loud and aggressive chomp on your fork as Moon sits across from you and watches.

~~~

Sun returns early in the evening from a day of work, and despite the unpleasant circumstances that have been surrounding you two, you’re happy to have him home. He’s equally as pleased and offers more dinner in a way that you’re pretty sure is a bribe. You let him have his way regardless, and Sun proudly presents the salad he brought home for you.

As you munch away, Moon prepares to begin his own nightly duties. Before he can step out the door, you make sure to snag his shirt and draw him into a kiss while your mouth is still full of lettuce. Moon makes an exaggerated sound of disgust, but as he scrubs at his teeth afterwards, you can see his grin widening. Mission accomplished.

With one detective exchanged for another, you decide to do your utmost to enjoy your time with Sun. No matter what he says about sharing burdens, you don’t want to dwell on any of it tonight. You want to enjoy your time with him. You want to enjoy him.

As such, after dinner and in an obvious ploy to reestablish some normalcy, you play through an assortment of card games and learn just how competitive he is. You win and lose several rounds of Twenty-One, War, Slapjack, and Gin. Sun turns out to be a formidable opponent, and more than once you eye him suspiciously, wondering if he’s got an extra card up his sleeve. He catches you staring each time and winks, partnered with a sly “Better try harder next time, love,” so much so that you’re fuming by your fourth loss.

The banter and snide remarks are all for show between you both. What makes it much sweeter is the fact that Sun remains as you know him all through it. You don’t see any changes in his eyes, you don’t hear any daunting words. It’s just your detective, and you think to yourself more than once, “There he is.”

You also think about asking yet again about the raid.

Sun’s coy laughter as he shows off another winning hand stills your tongue. You can wait. You have time. This is more important.

After finally winning a few rounds yourself, you lean back on your hands and give him a crooked smile. “I’d say I won between the two of us tonight.”

Sun’s snort lets you know exactly what he thinks about that, and you raise an eyebrow. His hands expertly shuffle the cards in a mesmerizing show that displays his familiarity with a deck.

“If you want to lie to yourself, by all means, be my guest,” he says.

“Funny,” you comment with a frown.

“Why, thank you!”

You’re beginning to understand a fraction of what the detectives usually put up with from you.

Sitting back up, you rest your forearms on the coffee table, watching him neatly tuck the cards back into their case. A thought occurs to you out of the blue.

“So who was at the door earlier today?”

Sun glances up. “When? You mean this morning?”

At your nod, he says much as you expect. “That was just the mailman.”

Figures. You saw the small pile of envelopes on the countertop already. Nothing exciting as usual.

But then Sun looks to the clock. “That reminds me actually. I signed for a package but had to drop it off in another unit Moon and I have been renting for more official police storage. Considering how crowded it’s gotten here, we’ve been needing the extra space. I should go check to see if everything’s all there that I ordered. Strange, but I can’t really recall what it is that came in...”

Well, that sure is news to you.

Bypassing the already absurd fact that Sun forgot something, you deadpan, “You mean you’ve been renting another apartment here this whole time just for storage?”

Sun turns a bit sheepish. “Yes? To be completely honest, we originally figured it would be a better idea than leaving important boxes of information and evidence at our offices. And we knew this place wasn’t exactly safe from intruders.”

“You mean me.”

You’re offered a winning smile. “Worked just fine against you, didn’t it?”

You scowl, not liking being given the slip so easily. This whole time you thought you’d gone through all the top-secret information the detectives had locked away. Turns out they’d read you perfectly and taken precautions that they deemed necessary.

Your fingers are already itching for a pin.

“Well, now your secret is out, darling,” you tsk. “I know that there’s a treasure trove of information just waiting for me nearby.”

Sun shakes his head. “We trust you now. It was different back then. I’m sure you understand.”

“Uh huh.” Oh, you’re so breaking into that room when you get the chance.

“Plus, we knew Eclipse could get his hands on anything in our apartment at the time if he really wanted. And even before we were aware that some of the officers were working for him, we still didn’t feel safe keeping some things at our desks. Your file was one of them.”

Something in you loosens and falters at that. Like a crack in your shield. A chink in your armor.

Because you’re struck with a very unexpected fact.

They’ve been protecting you this whole time. Long before Eclipse shared your past with them. Long before you were concerned about them being able to dig up that information. Possibly before you had ever even met them face to face as the vigilante.

You’re unmoving as you process that, and Sun has the kindness to not push. He merely adds, “And since you’ll be occupying the guest room for the much foreseeable future, we’ve been using the other unit to shift a lot of boxes and belongings into that space. So it’s not an ideal solution, but we’ve been making it work.”

You can hear the “for you” loud and clear. This would be a good point to deflect with something witty or coy, but Sun has been proving to excel at sneaking past your defenses and stealing any words right from your mouth—often with his own, but that’s neither here nor there.

You’re really starting to wonder how you lucked out like this. Potential trauma aside, this could be the definition of paradise. You just need to get a better handle on things, and you’ll be set.

After a long lull between you, Sun rises to his feet. “I’m going to go check on that package, and then I’ll be right back. Hang tight, sweet— Ah. Love. I mean love.”

You don’t have a second to dissect the once-again near-disastrous slip-up as Sun stiffly hurries out the door. Maybe it’s a good thing that Sun leaves as quickly as he does because it doesn’t give you the chance to feel the hairs stick up on your neck or a cold sweat of fear to cling to you as it so often has lately.

But that was odd. Very, very odd. It’s not like Sun to trip over his words like that. Especially one so important. And it’s not like him to just blank on certain things either. You determine to interrogate him about that when he gets back because there’s no way you’re letting anything swim by that smells the slightest bit fishy.

Left in the descending silence of the apartment, you consider following after Sun but ultimately decide against it. Either he’ll show you when he’s ready or you’ll make a fun night of guessing which extra unit is the detectives’ and do what you do best.

So while you wait for Sun to return, you fall back on your old, favorite habit of snooping. There’s little in this apartment that you haven’t seen, having already done a rather fantastic job of scoping it out in the weeks you’ve been resting. But you don’t like being left alone with your thoughts. Finding things to snag your attention is becoming more and more welcome. You set about checking first the living room, and when that yields no fun results, you turn to the kitchen.

Like Sun said, the mail has already been delivered, and while you lazily flick through the envelopes, you don’t bother opening any. You do have some decency after all. For your own amusement, you peruse the electric refrigerator and wrinkle your nose at a container of fresh strawberries on the shelf. Where did those come from? You haven’t eaten any even once in front of the detectives, and you’ve avoided them like the plague since Eclipse.

Time to redirect your thoughts. There’s little else to note in the fridge, so you move on.

Switching to the cabinets, you note the newly added plates and cups with a soft touch to your chest and then start opening and closing drawers.

You know there’s one drawer that’s always locked, which contains any particularly important documents the detectives don’t want to lose. You’ve seen all of them already, of course, but it doesn’t hurt to read through them again.

With just a pin and a few seconds, you unlock the drawer and peer inside. To your small shock, there are a couple of new things in there, or some things that you don’t recall being there before.

The first is a brass bell. It rings lightly as it rolls when you open the drawer and then comes to a stop. It’s bigger than the ones you hold so dear, and though you can’t shake the thought of where this might have come from, you don’t want to let your mind go down that path.

So you turn to the other new item that looks less foreboding. You pull the folded paper out like a magpie collecting a shiny new toy and shake off the flash of trepidation. A bit eager at having something extra to learn about your detectives, you scan the contents.

It’s dated today and appears to be a receipt of purchase and confirmation of delivery that you muse must have been from earlier this morning when Sun answered the door. You’re drawn to his looping signature that contains an impressive amount of calligraphy for just three letters. You smile and shake your head at that. Then you glance over the order as curiosity blossoms, and with a hum, you recognize the model number that you’d memorized when Sun had shown it to you days ago. It looks like this is a receipt for spare parts, and it’s no small amount of relief to know that your detectives are looking after themselves and taking precautions.

You quickly glance through the document as you think you hear Sun’s footsteps from down the hall. He probably wouldn’t mind you so obviously snooping for something this mundane, but you like to act like you haven’t completely lost your sneaky touch.

Your face lights up when you see that a celestial wire is on the list of items purchased. Good. They have a backup in case they need it. Unconsciously, you follow the dotted line next to it, and low puzzlement creeps in when you see that only one was ordered. One is definitely better than none, but after the harrowing experiences you’ve been through to patch up your detectives, it seems like they should at least have two on hand.

Brow furrowing, you take as quick of a closer look at the rest of the list as you can.

It’s a very extensive list, wires and parts that you wouldn’t know where they should go if your life depended on it. But then as you continue reading, you see more and more unusual items, including casings for a pair of arms and legs and all the necessary components to make them functional. There’s an entire section just for the chassis that makes your expression glaze over a bit from trying to understand it.

And finally, you reach the section labeled for the faceplate.

Immediately, two things stick out to you. The first is the eyes. They’re described in small print that says, “One set of optics: two-tone. Integrated with simulated behavior for automatic adjustment. Color swap for eyes and pupils between yellow and black.”

Your hands start to tremble.

The other thing you notice—that you can’t help but hastily search for with the paramount urgency that it not be there—is the subsection about the sun rays.

Clear as day, it tells you all you need to know, describing in short detail the elongated spikes that will adorn the faceplate. A vast assortment that will consist of dark purples and navy blues.

With horror sinking its meaty claws into your flesh, you at last find the final piece of evidence that cements your fear. At the topmost left-hand corner, the bold text confirms the model number applies not just to a few items, but is in fact for the purchase of a fully-assembled animatronic body, equipped with a celestial motif bearing the unique likeness that belongs to Sun and Moon.

And the ghostly figure of Eclipse.

You have to tear your gaze from the paper. The words are smearing together, and a wave of dread and nausea renders them indistinguishable to you. There’s a bit of color in the corner of your vision that catches your attention instead, and as you look back in the open drawer, you spy a small coil of ribbon that had been under the paper.

It’s burgundy.

A noise at the door startles you so violently, you whip around and see Sun standing there, staring at you in confusion. Your pulse rabbits away as you pant, and the feeling of being trapped surges powerfully within you. You can’t think straight as you will Sun to not turn into the monster haunting you.

His blue pupils fall from your face to the paper in your hands.

You drop the document and bolt, racing deeper into the apartment. Sun cries out after you, but you don’t turn back. There isn’t anywhere to go, but you slam into the bathroom and slap your hands onto the vanity and begin to dry heave.

Your stomach lurches, but though your terror twists like knives in your gut, nothing comes up. You endure an agonizingly long minute of your insides turning in on themselves. Sweat mats your hair that sticks to your face. You try not to think of anything at all as you turn on the faucet and cup water in your hand to bring to your mouth. But even that makes you feel worse, so you turn the sink back off after a few sips.

Braced against the countertop, you valiantly struggle to not fall apart at the seams. You hear footsteps behind you and sigh as they stop just at your back.

Right. You left Sun in yet another blinding fit of panic. He probably thinks you’re completely off your rocker at this point. You’d bet what you saw wasn’t even what the paper said. Just another illusion chipping away at your sanity.

The ribbon and bell can’t be as easily explained away. But you have a creeping, uncomfortable suspicion that it’s a souvenir from the detectives’ trip last night.

“Sorry,” you say with a coarse laugh that sounds weak even to your ears. You don’t bother lifting your head to look at him in the mirror. It seems rude not to offer an explanation for your behavior though, so you keep talking. “Could’ve sworn I saw something, but it’s probably just my eyes playing tricks on little old me again. Seems I’m a little more tired today than I thought.”

Sun remains at a loss for words, and you can’t blame him at all. You’re really kicking off into the deep end. In place of placating you, he rests a comforting hand on your back, and you stagger as you soak in the warm pressure. It travels up, toying with your strands of hair, gently brushing them to the side. His palm reaches all the way up to the back of your neck, his thumb curling down one side while the rest of his fingers curl around the other, enclosing like a metallic embrace that neatly ends at your throat.

The gesture, intended to be reassuring, only brings back even more terrible memories. You grimace and open your mouth to kindly ask him to let go, but then the fingers dig in and squeeze.

Shocked, your head snaps up as the ability to breathe becomes drastically harder. In the mirror, this time you see yellow eyes with black pupils that glow with malevolent glee. Sun presses closer, and as your shaking hands frantically latch onto the hand crushing your throat, he dips his head low enough to share a whisper.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Sun says, but to your horror, it’s not Sun’s voice.

It’s static electricity laced over burning anger and garbled into near inscrutability. It’s hunger and annoyance and possessiveness and delight tangled into one, all driven by an intent to devour you whole. You bite out a reedy gasp as Sun—no, Eclipse—keeps your head pinned up straight so you can’t look away.

Briefly, one of the yellow optics flashes white, a pupil flickering between familiar blue and paralyzing black before Eclipse wrestles back control.

The hand on your neck picks you up, and your feet kick the air as you claw at the metallic fingers to no avail. Eclipse twists you to face him, face the very real horror you’ve been convincing yourself is all in your head, and desperation pushes you to keep fighting. He effortlessly holds you up even higher than eye-level, the floor an unreachable distance away. When one of your hands darts down for a pin, his is quick to snatch your wrist.

He mockingly tsks at you, drawing you closer so that his snake-like gaze overwhelms you.

“I’m afraid you won’t be sleeping anytime soon.”

As tears begin to slip free from the lack of air, you silently plead to wake up. You dangle in Eclipse’s grip, and as your resistance becomes more futile and panic-stricken, his cruel grin offers no mercy.

“S-Sun,” you gasp, begging.

You’re answered with sharp amusement that has no business being on Sun’s faceplate. Unimaginable terror seizes you.

“We’ve had our fun,” Eclipse purrs, “but I suppose it’s time to put an end to this little game of ours.” His leer briefly changes to black, and his grasp threatens the bones in your neck. You can’t stop your strained yelp as it pierces the air. “Though I must applaud you for using my celestial wire to save Sunny. Were you by any chance aware of the data chip stored inside it, or did Sunny and Moonie fail to tell you? Because it seems that even now, they’re keeping secrets.”

Eclipse tilts his head in mock exasperation. The image is a blur to you, and you squeeze your eyes shut tight as agony crowds out all thoughts.

“Whatever the case, your little stunt gave me just enough time to make a smooth transfer before you ripped out my wire. And that means,” he lowers you to growl in your ear, “we can now pick up where we left off. You’ve got a running tab that you still owe me, and I intend to collect. But before we get to that...”

Your attempts to remove Eclipse’s crushing hold are met with him jostling you like a puppet. Without warning, he suddenly whirls his arm back and throws you hard, only for your body to slam against the wall a second later. Your spine screams in pain, but no sound travels past your mouth as the breath is knocked out of your chest. You collapse brokenly against the tub, and black clouds swim before you like the ones you’d seen a month ago. There’s no smoke, but you smell the acrid odor. As stars join the galaxy crowding your vision, the yellow eyes shine ever brighter into your soul, Eclipse crouching down next to you as you wheeze and struggle to not slip under the fog.

“We’ve got some catching up to do, pet.”

#moon x reader #sun x reader #eclipse x reader #daycare attendant x reader #sleuth jesters au #detective au #sleuth jesters fanfic #fnaf sb #me: *writes 1.5k drabble about the detectives not showing up in 'fire on fire'*#also me: wait no i've got a better idea #please ignore any errors dfifdsfgjigdff #i wrote this in a haze #much like the reader in this fic i might not have my sanity intact #writing tag

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starrywonder355 · 11 months

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After Hours: Escape the PizzaPlex AU Oneshot

“Hey, kid. Keep up,” Mike urged. He gave a quick glance back at the young boy who was reluctantly following along behind him. The boy squinted in the light from the technician’s cap.

“Where are we?” Gregory questioned.

“We are currently traveling through a small corridor offshoot of the maintenance tunnels that’ll eventually lead us into the warehouse,” the tech explained. He glanced back ahead as they continued. He could hear the rushed footsteps of Gregory catching up to his side. “That’s where we keep the endos.”

“The endos?” The other asked with slight hesitation.

“Nickname for ‘endoskeletons’. Y’know, uh, the robot mechanisms beneath the costume,” Mike replied. “Uh, think robotic skeletons under the fur. That should be a bit easier to picture.”

“Oh…” Gregory’s voice faded a little at this. He’d never actually seen one of the animatronics without their costumes on before. He didn’t really like the thought of it though. Something about such seemingly lively things without their skin, er- costumes just felt wrong.

Mike let out a huff, though it sounded more like a dry laugh. “It’s not all sunshine and rainbows under the ‘magic’, is it?” He said with a somewhat lighthearted tone.

Gregory didn’t seem to find it lightening the mood. Though the dark face mask and low brimmed cap hid most of the tech’s features, something about the way his brows slightly turned upwards hinted Mike may have been frowning. “Sometimes it’s easy to forget most people don’t ever think much about the technical underside of it all. Especially when it’s what you do for a living and no one else really does.” He thought for a moment about the way he’d worded that. ‘Living’. As if he were really all that alive.

As they continued, they finally came upon a slightly larger hallway. At least this one could somewhat be considered a room. It was large enough to be filled with some crates that likely held extra parts and pieces. Gregory found his eyes wandering along their wooden sides. He could faintly make out a small symbol that appeared to resemble Freddy’s head with bold words surrounding it that read: PROPERTY OF FAZBEAR ENT. What didn’t they own? There were also a couple lumps of stuff covered by big orange tarps surrounded by a few stray tables and folded chairs.

“Huh, I don’t remember this,” Mike muttered as he looked up at a chain-link fence that walled off the hallway from continuing further. “I wonder when they blocked this off.” He hadn’t remembered anything about the company telling him they’d need to use the other corridor. Then again, it wasn’t unlike the company to not give a heads up about things. “Hmm, they had to have left some other way to get through back here. If not, we’ll have to find another keycard to access the other corridor back at the stage lift I suppose. Not exactly looking forward to that though. Right, kid?”

He glanced beside him to find no sight of Gregory. “Kid?”

The boy had wandered off between some of the stacked boxes. He noticed some of them had been opened, revealing some of the contents inside. Circuit boards and microchips, plastic eyeballs and servos all glinting in the dingy, orange light. As he looked around, he bumped into something. He jumped and looked up at what he’d hit. As he did, his heart sank. His jaw dropped open but not a single sound but a quiet whine for air escaped.

Looming over him was a tall figure. It’s body was thin and lanky, with stick-like arms and legs connecting to an almost skeletal torso. Wires strung along its skinny frame, connecting to other parts of itself. The statue was dark, almost black, and its elongated limbs appeared to be reaching out for something. Its eyes were the most notable feature, as the white contrasted noticeably against its dark body. Its pupils were beady and stared right into the young child’s own as he stared back at it. It gave the thing an eerily predatory energy.

Gregory slowly backed away from it, his eyes unbreaking with its harsh stare. “Hey! I think I found one of those endoskeleton thingies!” He called out to Mike. The other quickly hurried behind him to take his own look at the discovery. The flashlight from his hat shone upon the creature, revealing just how disturbing it looked in all its horrifying glory.

“That, you did,” Mike answered. “An ugly fella, in’nit?”

“So, that’s what Freddy looks like without his costume on?” Gregory asked, his voice slightly wavering.

“Well, he should.”

“I don’t like it,” Gregory mumbled. “I prefer them with their costumes on.”

“I think most do.” Mike’s voice was very matter-of-fact. Although, there was a very subtle somber hint to it. He gave Gregory a moment more to look at the thing before he gestured for him to follow. “Come on, I need to ask you something.”

Gregory continued to stare at the thing, his eyes unable to break from the sight, as he started to walk away. Finally, he fixed his attention back on his technician friend. “What is it?”

Mike pointed to a vent. “This. We should be able to get into the warehouse through here, though it’s going to be tight. Wanna give it a go?”

Gregory stared at it for a moment. He was getting a little tired of these vents. They were creepy and small and made him feel like he was going to get stuck in them but if Mike could make it, he knew he could too. “Uhh,” he hesitated a moment. “Sure.”

“Alright.” Mike bent down and unzipped his tool bag. After giving a quick skim, he gave a sigh. “Right. You still got that screwdriver I gave you?”

Gregory nodded. “Mhm. Here,” he softly spoke as he pulled the tool out of his backpack and handed it to Mike.

“Thank you,” Mike hummed as he took it and began to unscrew the vent screws. He pulled the metal grate from the wall and placed it down beside them. “You wanna go first again? Or me?”

Gregory thought for a moment. As he did, the both of them were suddenly distracted by the sound of something scuffing behind them. They quickly glanced behind them into the direction of the sound. Nothing immediately stuck out to them.

“What was that?” Gregory asked, his voice a little nervous.

“Not sure,” Mike answered. He craned his neck in the direction of the sound, his light shining along the boxes. As he did, suddenly, both their breath caught.

“Michael!” Gregory panicked, pointing. “It moved!”

“I see it.”

Although it was nearly unnoticeable, behind one of the stack of boxes, hidden in the shadows of the dimly lit room, they could both make out the outstretched hands of the endoskeleton that was hidden amongst the boxes.

“You must’ve set it off when you bumped into it,” Mike said. His gaze didn’t move from the endo as he gave his next order. “Get into the vent, I’ll follow behind you.”

Without a word, Gregory did as he was told and scurried into the vent. Once he was in, Mike slowly inched backwards and made his way into the vent. The two of them began to make their way through it. As they reached the first curve in the tight space, Mike took a final glance behind them. He felt his blood run cold as he saw the pair of eyes staring back at them through the small rectangular opening at the other side.

He heard the child let out a quiet whimper.

“Don’t worry. It won’t follow us in here. They can’t fit,” Mike reassured him. “The worst it can do is watch. Keep going.”

Gregory went forward and Mike followed behind.

The sound of their movement echoed through the small metal chamber. They could practically hear their heartbeats thumping in their chests. Though, Mike swore he could make out another sound of thumping above them. “Stop,” he ordered Gregory in a quick whisper. Gregory stopped.

The thumping continued.

The urge to ask what that was chewed at the back of the boy’s tongue but he didn’t speak. It sounded like something scurrying up above them. It was hard to make out just how big whatever it was but it didn’t sound very small. It began to grow louder, as if drawing closer and as it did, they began to hear a soft music box sounding out through the vents. It seemed to be to the tune of the PizzaPlex’s theme.

Mike looked above them and noticed an opening where the vent merged to another. “Go!” He urged, still hushed but more insistent than before. “Hurry!” The boy listened and scurried through the vent. The other followed close behind.

“What is it?” Gregory asked with an equally soft but urgent tone as Mike’s had been.

“I don’t know, keep going,” Mike hurried. “It might be another one of those Music Man toys you mentioned earlier.”

Gregory’s pace seemed to pick up even more. He didn’t want to have to deal with one of those again. The first one was scary enough, despite what it was.

However, just as they’d quicken the sound of rumbling thumps behind them seemed too as well. Whatever it was was chasing them and it was chasing them fast, likely faster than they were. Its steps were rhythmic and quick, they sounded precise. The lullaby was getting louder and it echoed through the vent, making it sound much more nauseating and closer than they hoped it was.

“It’s giving me a headache…” Gregory groaned as he stumbled for a moment.

“Don’t stop, kid! Go!” Mike pushed him forward until the kid seemed to regain himself.

The thing behind them was getting closer. It sounded like it was practically on their heels. Neither of them wanted to imagine that though. Up ahead, the vents took another turn. They prepared for it as the thing behind them grew closer.

It sounded bigger than Gregory remembered but maybe that was just because it sounded so close. Not to mention, the noise was beginning to make him sick. Mike was starting to feel its effects too but he pushed through. He was used to his sensitive ears throwing him off, he just hoped it wouldn’t be too much for Gregory.

They kept going and eventually, Gregory saw an opening at the end of the vent. He pushed himself through with all the strength and speed he could muster. He was even starting to make a bit of distance with Mike. The other was trying his best to scurry on out as fast as he could. He could feel throbbing at the temple of his skull but he kept going. He saw Gregory escape the vents and hoped that he too would make it. He couldn’t imagine leaving the kid alone in this place.

As his hand reached out to the opening of the vent, he felt something grip at his ankle. It gripped hard. He let out a yelp and kicked whatever it was away instinctively. It didn’t immediately budge and he panicked, twisting himself as he was halfway out of the vent. As he turned, he caught a glimpse of the thing, though it wasn’t much.

He was met with two red eyes. They looked like fire-filled beads as they stared into him, filling him with spine chilling fear. Its arm looked unproportionately long as it was stretched from the shadows to grasp his ankle. He kicked again and it quickly slunk into the shadows of the vent, too quick for him to make out more than its subtle silhouette. The only thing he knew was that it had been something big.

Mike hurried out of the vent, panting as he fell to the floor with a thud and dragged himself to the furthest corner.

“Mike! Are you okay?” Gregory quickly went over to him. “Did it get you?”

“It did. I kicked it off,” he answered between panicked gasps. “That was no Music Man.”

“Huh? Then what was it? You don’t think it was that thing do you?”

“Which one?” Mike breathed with a slight laugh.

“It’s not funny!” Gregory spat, his voice clearly shaking with nerves. “I thought it was going to take you!”

“It didn’t. I don’t know exactly what it was but I sure don’t think it was the endo,” he admitted.

Gregory gave him a weird look at this. His eyes nervously glanced around the area. “Then what?”

“Welp,” Mike huffed as he sat himself up. He brought his legs up and placed his hands around his knees, locking them in place. “Seems like someone might still be a little grumpy over the whole lights out incident.”

“Huh? You mean that moon thing?”

“That’s what it looked like to me. Would explain the nauseating music box too.”

Gregory looked uneasy and he shrunk back a bit. “Why would it be all the way down here though?” He asked.

“Wouldn’t say it’s all that surprising a coincidence.” Mike pointed. “The Superstar Daycare’s storage rooms attach to this warehouse a little ways off and it does like to roam these areas. You’ll notice there’s quite a few murals of Moondrop throughout Parts and Service.”

“Why? I don’t get what a daycare attendant would have to do down here,” the boy muttered.

“Well, it’s a bit more complicated than that,” Mike began to explain. “Typically, after hours, they’re usually down here with the endoskeletons running them through diagnostics.”

“Huh?”

“Uh, I guess you could say they act as a sorta- tutor to them. The AI around here is pretty smart. They learn most of what they know through seeing and experiencing it first hand but it wouldn’t exactly be all that safe to throw a fresh endo out into the public. They don’t know anything. They haven’t learnt what’s right or wrong or how to behave. Anything.”

“Kinda like babies?”

“Yeah, you got the idea. Basically babies with the strength of Freddy or Monty. Not exactly safe. That’s probably why the Attendant is so good with them,” Mike retorted. “Ever since the glitches though, I wouldn’t say they’ve been doing all that great a job with them. Everything’s been weird since that.”

“Yeah…” Gregory went a little quiet at this. “Um, so. What are we going to do? Well, with that thing after us now too.”

“The same thing we were going to do before.” Mike got himself up to his feet and gave his mask and hat a quick fix. “Except now we’ve just got another thing to be careful about. You still need a breather, kid?”

Gregory shook his head. “No, I think I’ll be fine. Did it hurt your leg?”

Mike shook his head. “Nah, I’ve seen worse days. Just feels a little funny but it’s all good. Let’s go. That way.” He gestured with his chin towards the end of the new corridor. “See that passageway up ahead?”

Gregory nodded and started towards it alongside Mike. They walked past some character-themed trash bins that were sloppily thrown along the walls, a couple shelves full of cleaning chemicals and things, and a stray forklift until they made it to the looming metal doorway. Gregory waited as Mike went off to a panel by the door’s side. He pulled out the lanyard that he kept in his jacket and placed his security card up to the small computer monitor. It took a moment but it soon gave the heads up that the scan was successful and that access was granted. The large door then began to slide up with a loud whir of mechanics.

“All set,” Mike announced and gestured to the area.

It was a thin hallway, even more narrow than the ones they took to get here. It was packed with storage and junk, making the space even more crowded. The hallway appeared to have many blind spots as well, which didn’t exactly fill Gregory with much confidence. As they entered, Gregory noted the couple conveyor belts that seemed to line their sides. Long thick pipes ran along the walls, some of which emitted a thick, fog-like steam. Along the hallway, there seemed to be a couple small rooms that derived off of it, small rooms that could probably make a convenient hiding place if the need arose or make the hallway a lot more inconvenient than it was.

“Keep track of your location,” Mike spoke up, breaking the quiet air of its constant low hiss of steam and internal humming. “It’s very easy to get lost in here. It’s a big, confusing maze. I got no idea why the company set it up this way. Try to always make sure of what’s ahead. You don’t want to accidentally backtrack.”

Gregory nodded in understanding and snuck closer to Mike. He let out a confused “huh?” as he was suddenly picked up by the tech. Mike gestured for him to get on his shoulders, which Gregory did.

“Harder to get lost if you’re up there. Just watch your head, kid.”

They began to walk further. As they did, Gregory pointed out a couple of seemingly deactivated endoskeletons that were standing around the corridors.

“Keep an eye on them for me, okay?” Mike started. “I wanna make sure we’re going in the right direction but I also don’t want us to get jumped by one of them.”

The boy nodded and kept watch as alert as could be.

They came up to a small door with a picture painted on it. It depicted an endoskeleton handing a shiny red balloon to a young kid. Above the painting was a green check.

“What’s that?” Gregory asked.

“Well, this is the assessment area. This is where the endoskeletons get taken through their tests to make sure they’re capable of properly performing their tasks.” Mike pointed to the door. “See the picture? This is the first test. To give a kid a balloon. Simple. If the endo passes the test then they go onto the next test.” He pressed a button that opened up the door. “See?”

“Huh… I get it.”

They continued on through the next hallway. Gregory found himself scanning the surroundings. More endoskeletons. Some were hung up by large metal hangers that hoisted the figures off the ground. While some of the others were left idly standing around the hall. He looked along the walls.

Mike had been right. There were a lot of posters and paintings depicting Moon. He also noticed that a lot of the imagery was very similar to the daycare itself. Paintings of grass lined the edges of the walls. There were puffy white clouds and blue skies in some areas and dark, star-filled landscapes in others. Some walls were even decorated with rainbows and bright yellow suns. Huh, guess it was sunshine and rainbows under the ‘magic’ afterall.

Although, even with all the cheerful imagery, something about the place just felt off. The halls were so narrow and the paint on their walls was faded and dull, making it look a lot less inviting than it likely had been at some point. The way that rusted pipes and split wires jutted out from certain parts of the bricks also broke the illusion of friendliness the halls had to offer. Right above Gregory’s head was the low ceiling of the place, which was laced with interlocking pipes, wire, and pinkish plexiglass that had likely been an insulator at some point. The whole thing felt like the kind of place some twisted kidnapper would lock you inside. The energy it gave off was quite uneasy and Gregory hoped they wouldn’t be sticking around for much longer.

He noticed the many sounds that seemed to fill the space as well. The hissing steam, the humming of mechanics from somewhere inside the walls, maybe a rattling air conditioner, the squeaking of slightly shifting metal pipes scraping against one another, the clicking of mechanics. Wait- He’d heard that sound before. It was a very specific clicking sound. It almost resembled that of a clock mechanism or even more like that of a stuck mechanism. The kind of sound you’d expect to hear from a malfunctioning machine when it repetitively attempted to click a proper part into place.

Gregory looked around to make sure none of the endoskeletons were following them. As he did, he found that something was, in fact, very aware of their presence. Peering out from the corner of one of the tight walls was the more than recognizable shape of a glowing crescent. One beady red eye was positioned in their exact direction.

“Mike, you see it, right?” Gregory nudged him.

Mike nodded.

“What’s it doing?”

Just as he’d asked the question, the animatronic vanished off back behind the wall. Mike held his ground for a moment. He wanted to make sure it wasn’t waiting to ambush them. He inched forward cautiously, making sure he could get as much of a view of the corner as was possible. As he watched, they came across two endoskeletons which were standing in the way of the hall. They almost resembled guarding knights, protecting the pathway of a kingdom corridor.

“Gregory, help me watch them, okay? Let me know if my light leaves any of their faces,” Mike ordered. As usual, Gregory complied with the plan.

“Okay,” the other responded. His dark brown eyes were glued onto the tall metallic figures. “Why do I need to watch the light though?”

“Due to the fact that endoskeletons have their safety features turned off during diagnostics, the company made it so that they are able to be stunned by bright lights to avoid injury to the techs and other maintenance staff, who are always provided with a headlamp.”

“Oh! Why do they shut off safety features if people are going to be working with them though? Isn’t that… really dangerous?” Gregory asked.

“Well, yes, but also required. After all, in the case of the safety protocols malfunctioning while around guests and non-maintenance staff, it's best to make sure the machines can cause as minimal an issue as possible without their added safety precautions.”

“This stuff is so confusing,” the boy grumbled.

“It certainly can be.”

Once Mike had made it past the endoskeleton duo, he approached the next doorway. Though, he’d made sure to occasionally watch behind him, even if Gregory was doing a good job of watching on his own.

As the door opened, they could faintly make out the distant silhouette of the celestial jester. He was beckoning for them to follow before promptly placing his hands against his cheek in a restful manner and gracefully prancing off behind another wall.

“I’m surprised it hasn’t attacked us yet.” Gregory slunk his chin down on top of Mike’s hat. His body was scrunched up as small as it could be.

“I don’t think it’s planning on doing it itself,” Mike answered with a lace of agitation in his voice. “Either that or it’s hoping to use those endoskeletons as its bodyguards for when it does.”

“What about the ones behind us?”

“The doors are timed. They’ll eventually shut behind us. We should be fine.” With that, Michael kept going forward off into the direction that Moon had been previously.

However, as they approached, more endoskeletons wandered out from the shadows of the corridors. Mike cautiously maneuvered around them, trying his best to keep them corralled into an easily manageable bunch. Thankfully, there weren’t many, and the small groups of two and three were easy enough to handle with Mike’s bright headlamp.

Gregory remained clutched tightly to Mike. He kept himself low to avoid being caught on anything above and to keep safe from anything reaching out to grab him. These tunnels would make it certain that he wouldn’t easily be found if something were to happen to him now.

“We’ve almost made it to the next security office and then we can go,” Michael announced. “I see the turn for it right up there.”

“Good. The faster we get out of here the better. I hate it down here.”

“Me too, kid.”

They passed by a small circular section of the halls. Its doorway was lined with red curtains and golden ropes, very similar to the ones back at the theater. There were a couple televisions set up inside this room. Every one seemed to be depicting a cartoon of Moondrop luring groups of children away like a twisted Pied Piper.

As they went through, Gregory pointed out a small door in this room. “Where does that go?”

“It actually leads back to the stage lift. This door typically isn’t used anymore and requires a higher clearance than we have but once we have that security pass from here, this could make a helpful route if Moondrop pulls any crap on us last second once we have that other security card.”

Gregory nodded in silence.

Finally, they made their way into the security office. Mike let Gregory down from his shoulders. He made a soft thush sound as his sneakers hit the cushioned floor. “Grab the pass and lets get out of here before Moon gets to us first.”

Gregory quickly rushed over to the desk and opened up the miniature Freddy Fazbear head that held the important plastic card. Once they’d gotten it, an alarm sounded, notifying that the security badge had been taken.

As the boy was about to hurry back to Michael, he quickly pointed.

“Behind you!” He called.

Mike’s head quickly spun behind him, his light shining upon the couple of endoskeletons from earlier that had caught up to them. “Come on, Gregory, lets get out of here!” He said, slowly backing up towards the other. He quickly took a glance behind him to check on the kid, when he was met with a sight that made his entire body freeze.

Within the very room they’d taken the card, dozens, if not thousands, of glowing red eyes lit up within the pitch black of the office. “Gregory look out!” Mike warned, before quickly looking back to check on the other animatronics at the doorway. They’d gotten much closer within the short frame of Mike looking away. He inched back from them and quickly glanced around the room, finding themselves even more hopeless. Everywhere, along every wall, endoskeletons stood staring at them. The sound of others approaching them from every direction other than where Mike glanced grew ever closer.

“Mike! What are we going to do? We’re trapped!!” Gregory cried, backing into the technician and grabbing hold of his pants leg to make sure he could at least feel where his only hope of defense was in the dark room.

“I don’t know. We have to get them into one place. It's too risky to run past.”

“And it’s not too risky to try luring them?”

“There’s not much more of an option.”

Making sure that the kid was close at his side, Mike carefully maneuvered. He made sure to keep track of the ones closing in from behind, without letting ones ahead of him reach out to them.

“I felt one!!” Gregory screamed as Mike froze one that had gotten far too close for comfort in place.

“It's okay. We’re gonna be okay, kid.” Mike was trying his best to keep his cool, hoping that it would at least help Gregory feel less afraid. However, deep down he too was terrified. This was way too close for what he considered acceptable.

He was trying his best to keep his head in the game and keep track of all their sides as he slowly lured them into a cluster. It was working but not fast enough for Mike’s taste. However, he was atleast starting to keep a good chunk of them at bay at a time. He could make it. He just had to keep track of them all.

They were almost together. It would just be a little more and they could get out of here. Then, it happened. Mike could feel himself choke on his own throat like a thick tube had tangled inside. He heard a scream. A loud deafening screech for help. He reached for his side and found something that froze him to the core. Gregory wasn’t there.

“GREGORY!!!” He called out in a violent panic. He shot a glance behind him and in the light of his headlamp, he could faintly make out the scene of the small brunette boy fighting off the lanky star-spangled jester that was pulled him out of the office and into the dark corridors.

“HELP ME!!! MICHAEL!!!!” Was the last identifiable set of words Gregory could utter before the screams and sounds of struggle faded off in a terrifyingly short amount of time.

Mike ran off, pushing an endoskeleton out of his way with such a force it threw it off its course and sent it against the wall to recover. He chased the faint screams of Gregory and the subtle chuckles of Moondrop, being swallowed into the shadows of the warehouse.

#fnaf #fnaf fanfic #five nights at freddy's #fnaf sb #security breach #fnaf au #writing #I have committed writing at last #also this is my first time posting a fanfic on here so I’m so sorry I have no idea how posting this stuff works lol

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