Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Today was going to be a lovely, delightful, all-right wholesome full-good kind of day! As most days were in the Pizzaplex Daycare, if the Daycare Attendant had any say in the matter, and he in fact had the most say in the matter. The only say, indeed, which was precisely how he liked it. The first guardians would be by soon to drop off the first tots, and the day would begin; playtime and funtime, with everything as organized as it needed to be for safety and as lawless as a child’s area ought to be for frolicking!

The Daycare was a delicate ecosystem with precisely one variable. Sun maintained a perfect balance of freedom and authority with the children, wielding their respect with grace and care so that they never saw him as anything more than a benevolent force that, yes, sometimes doled out time-outs. Some saw him as a fellow child, simply in a much larger body, while others could see that he was at least equivalent to whatever an adult was. (What was an adult, anyway?) Regardless, they were all fond of him, and that was just how he liked it.

There was the occasional visitation, of guardians or staff upon Daycare territory, that Sun wouldn’t quite call trespass; they were needed to pick up the children, or make repairs to anything that the kids had handled a tad too roughly in the day. They were necessary for the Daycare to continue to thrive, and so he turned a blind eye to their disruption, instead focusing on his own tasks. The children, after all, were the most important thing.

Some, however, could not help but be considered trespassers. By virtue of their presence in the Daycare, Sun knew there was a threat to his carefully cultivated garden of harmony.

Management.

“Sun.”

The corner of his smile twitching, stretching slowly thin, Sun straightened from where he was greeting the first arrival to the Daycare. “Excuse me!” he chirped to the child’s guardian, offering a little salute as he turned on a dime. A quiet giggle bubbled up behind him, and he felt a swell of fondness as his antics were prompt to work.

Standing framed in the door of the Daycare stood a familiar and unwelcome face. It was rude to think as much, but Sun and Moon had long since agreed that they were allowed at least a few unkind thoughts, about a few unkind people. The world could not be as clean and sanitized as they kept the Daycare for the sake of the children, though they would never let it through their filter.

In their own head, though, that was safe enough.

“Hellooo, Benji!”

The man’s typing on his phone paused, and he narrowed his eyes behind his glasses as he lifted a slow look toward the Daycare Attendant. Sun’s smile widened, head rolling on his shoulders as he nodded along to an unheard beat, waiting patiently for the manager to deliver his news– as though he hadn’t, once again, used an entirely unwelcome nickname. This was the dance they performed, each time this same manager came with this same news, delivered with the same impassive tone and the same deaf ear turned to Sun’s complaints.

Much of the same, same, same. And so if they would not change, then neither would Sun.

Lifting his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose, Benjamin exhaled heavily. Noticing a parent waiting behind him, he stepped into the Daycare and moved aside, leading Sun toward the security desk. “We’ve hired your new assistant,” he said, utterly blithe as he ignored the displeasure on Sun’s faceplate. Most wouldn’t be able to notice it, but Benjamin was skilled in the art of reading between the lines of Sun’s expressions and words.

“Unnecessary!” Sun chirped pleasantly, clasping his hands together. “I have it all under control! The Daycare runs perfectly day-to-day; there have been no complaints, the children and guardians are happy with our services–”

“I know, Sun,” he interrupted, making a suppressive gesture as he tapped an alert on his phone. It was the same spiel every time, and every time, he put it to rest. “There still needs to be human supervision.”

Eyes dimming a bit, white pupils gone to pinpricks, Sun hummed. “Funny how that works,” he remarked, and Benjamin lifted a wry look, waiting for whatever Sun had in mind. “Why, technology was designed to fill in the gaps of human capability, after all! Cars that would avoid accidents, automatic sprinklers for fires, etcetera! But–” Sun leaned in closer, wagging a finger. “Now we need human supervision. Not the other way around!” It was hypocritical. Unfair. What had changed?

Benjamin met Sun’s stare, eyes lidded. The standoff lasted for several long moments, Sun’s smile tight and Benjamin’s gaze unwavering.

Finally, the manager looked down at his phone as another alert popped up. “Your assistant just picked up their badge,” he said, and Sun popped upright as though repelled, smile frozen and eyes a bit wide. “Listen to me, Sun,” he continued, lifting his phone and aiming it at the taller animatronic.

“Pointing is rude,” Sun piped up immediately, eyes narrowing with playful daring as he held this authority figure to the standards of the children running around the Daycare.

Benjamin narrowed his eyes, pursing his lips, then lowered the phone. He had niblings of his own, and he had long ago agreed to abide by the rules of the Daycare while within its walls; a concession to the Daycare Attendant that said Attendant had long ensured he regret. “Behave yourself with this assistant,” he went on, undeterred. “You’ve driven off too many already. You alienated any properly qualified candidates– every teacher that’s been through these doors won’t even let their family’s children attend the Daycare anymore.”

Sun looked away at that. He knew some of those children, remembered their faces, and he missed them every day, felt the pang of their absence in the knowledge that he would never see them again.

“If you can’t get along with this assistant, then we’ll be forced to consider pairing you with a security guard instead,” he went on, and Sun resisted the urge to roll his eyes. (Not allowed, it set a bad example for the children.) It wasn’t the first time they’d made this threat, and it wasn’t one that they would make good on; the optics of having a security guard in the Daycare were too damning, or so Moon thought.

“I’m always on my best behavior!” Sun responded, beaming as his eyes crinkled up, clasping his hands together. Benjamin frowned deeply. This was patently untrue, and it did not bode well for the incoming assistant.

“Lying is against the rules,” Benjamin retorted, and Sun shot him a withering grin.

Only if you can prove it, he thought to himself, but he didn’t like being called out like that in his own Daycare. “Would you look at the time!” Shepherding Benjamin towards the door, Sun went on cheerfully, “I better get to work! So many kids, so little me! Not that I’ve ever had trouble before, but good thing I’ll have some extra hands today!”

Benjamin rolled his eyes, and Sun squinted, having so recently resisted the urge himself. “I mean it, Sun,” he started, and his words broke off into a disgruntled sound of horror as Sun tousled the strict comb-over of his hair. “Sun!”

“Whoops!” Covering his mouth, Sun’s grin widened as the children around them noticed and started to giggle wildly at the fancy man’s messy hair. “I work with children, Benji, it’s so hard to remember sometimes!” Twiddling his fingers, eyes squinted in glee, Sun flounced away to greet all of the new arrivals as Benjamin glared after him.

Shaking his head, he turned to leave the Daycare, immediately bumping into you. “Oh! Sorry!” you exclaim, fumbling to catch your employee handbook and the file with your badge and contract, as well as the novel you had brought for your break and the water bottle– yeah, your hands were full.

Stopping in surprise, blinking down at you, Benjamin resisted the urge to grimace. “It’s fine.” Stepping aside, he let you pass, staring after you for a moment longer before departing.

Casting about desperately for any sign of an employee lounge or locker room, you eventually settle for the security desk as your headquarters and hustle over before you can drop anything– or, God forbid, bump into anyone else. A child bolted past your heel and you glanced over quickly, wanting to caution them, but feeling the warning freeze on your tongue. Your newfound authority didn’t quite feel real yet, and you hesitated. You were still only an assistant, after all, and you hadn’t yet met the Daycare Attendant…

You bumped into someone else. “Oops! Someone needs to watch where they’re going!” And you dropped everything you were holding, scrabbling to try and catch any of it. You managed to snatch a single piece of paper out of the air, crumpling it in the process, and winced.

Looking up, you gawked as the oversized animatronic rotated a full 180 degrees at the waist, his hands on his hips as he turned a wide smile down on you. “Hello, Sunshine!” He literally loomed over you, leaning forward, and you leaned back in equal measure– right up until you lost your footing and fell back onto the play mats. “Careful, you wouldn’t want to squash any tots,” he warned, reaching down and plucking you up by the collar of your new uniform.

Like a scruffed cat, he lifted you back to your feet and planted you down. Standing awkwardly, feeling like an impostor in your own body, you stared wide-eyed as he spun the rest of the way around and returned to talking to a guardian without another word to you. Blinking rapidly, you didn’t move for a moment, then slowly crouched and started gathering your things.

Clutching everything closer to your chest now, you stood behind the Daycare Attendant for another minute, waiting for him to finish his conversation. When the guardian finally departed, you opened your mouth to get his attention– and watched haplessly as he strode away, scooping a child off a chair and swinging them through the air, playfully warning them about not climbing on furniture.

Feeling a prickle of sweat on the nape of your neck, you gingerly made your way across to the security desk, picking your way around children and toys. Setting everything on the counter and tucking your water underneath, you eyed everything on the console, wondering if you were expected to learn all of this.

Orientation had been a quick affair, hardly anything at all. They’d said you would learn on the job, and that the Daycare Attendant would help. Mostly your volunteer experience at various daycares and schools would give you all the skills you needed, and you would pick up the details as you went. Trial by fire, so to speak, and it was definitely not how you were used to jobs working.

You worked better with structure and instruction; ideally, a literal list of tasks to perform, a checklist to go down and complete before your shift was over. Though that only worked for more industrial jobs, and you’d gotten out of those fairly quickly because of how isolating they were. You enjoyed working with people, despite how difficult it could be.

Children had been your saving grace, you found.

“Excuse me?” Looking up, you saw a little one peering over the desk, tiny hands propped on the counter as she blinked owlishly at you.

Feeling a swell of affection, you smiled at her, coming around the side of the security desk. “Hi, sweetheart,” you cooed, crouching down to be on her level. She folded her arms behind her back, rocking on her heels as she looked up at you. “What can I do for you?”

“Who are you?” she asked, tilting her head.

Before you could reply, a new voice broke in. “Good morning, Clarice!” Sun exclaimed, crouching down beside the two of you, beaming at her. Immediately her shyness seemed to evaporate and the girl brightened, raising her arms and groping for a hug. Sun indulged her readily, scooping her up and finally facing you. “Hello, Sunshine,” he said again, gaze flicking toward your nametag and seeming to dismiss it. “Clarice, this is the new Daycare Assistant.”

Nodding, she tilted her head. “Ohh.” A few of the other children flocked closer, curious and watching you. Sun inclined his head toward you, still smiling, and you felt yourself root to the spot.

Heart racing, unused to the limelight, you stammered out an inelegant introduction.

You were barely finished before Sun piped up, “Okay! Who wants to play Hide and Seek?” There was a chorus of cheers, and more arose from the drawing tables as other kids scrambled to their feet to join in. “Let’s choose who’s going to be It,” Sun said, lowering Clarice to the ground and letting them hustle off to play whichever game would determine the first seeker. It looked like they were counting their shoes, and you smiled a bit, briefly reminiscing in your own fond memories of grade school.

“Are you a teacher?” Sun asked, folding his hands behind his back and leaning in, and you jumped back in surprise at his proximity.

“Oh! N-no, I, uh, I volunteered with kids a lot,” you explained, flashing a quick and nervous smile. It didn’t feel like enough to land a job like this, but here you were! It felt surreal, almost a dream come true. The Pizzaplex paid well– notoriously so– and you got to play with kids all day, as well as help be part of their formative years. Which was… a lot of pressure, to be honest, but you’d always been a natural with kids, and you’d attended classes and volunteered enough to ensure you did everything right. As long as you didn’t let your anxiety get the best of you or make you overthink it, you would be fine. Just fine.

Juuust fine.

“Hmm! You’re the first assistant I have that wasn’t a teacher,” Sun remarks, tapping his chin as he straightened up, thoughtful. You felt his words like a lance through your chest, panic threatening to set in. “I’m sure it’ll be fine! Management doesn’t make mistakes often!”

Actually, you’re pretty sure Fazbear Entertainment’s management is infamous for its insane mistakes. Was hiring you going to turn out to be one of those mistakes?

Unable to move, you felt your flight instinct kick in. What if you became the next big Fazbear spectacle? Anything could go wrong, and if it went wrong where children were involved– no, you’d never forgive yourself.

“Come on, Sunshine! It’s playtime!” Sun chirped, striding off towards where the kids had elected their first seeker.

You stared after him, uncomprehending how he could be so calm while you could feel your insides shriveling up. Then, slowly, you felt something like understanding dawn inside of you, the panic evaporating like dew under a welcome sunrise.

No… that’s right. What had he said?

Blinking slowly, you patted your chest, willing your heart to slow down.

The Daycare Attendant didn’t seem concerned– I’m sure it’ll be fine, he’d said. Maybe he thought management hired you for a reason. You might not have the qualifications of a teacher, but maybe they saw something in you that gave them confidence in your abilities.

Sun believed in you. Taking a deep breath, then letting it out slowly, you felt the threat of an anxiety attack slip away, a newfound determination taking its place. Clenching your first, you resolved not to let him down. This was a huge opportunity for you. There was no way you were going to let yourself bungle it just because of some self-esteem issues. You were going to ace this! And if you had to fake it till you made it, then so be it! But you were going to make it!

“Coming!” you called. Fixing your collar and puffing up your chest, you jogged across the Daycare, ready to tackle your first day.

The first day tackled back.

“Can you get more markers, Sunshine?” Sun chimed, his arms laden with construction paper as he led the children toward the arts and crafts tables, looking like a pied piper the way they trailed behind him excitedly in a perfect little train.

“S-sure!” you exclaimed, trying to finish securing the security tape around the ball pit. One of the kids had an accident and it would need to be cleaned, and they kept sneaking back in despite your repeated warnings. Sun seemed confident in your ability to handle it, and you didn’t want to let him down, so you were doing your best to keep the little tykes out of the danger zone. It felt like a full-time job entirely on its own, and there was so much else to do on top of it. Hopefully they would have a bit of respect for the yellow KEEP OUT tape you had scrounged from behind the security desk.

You took two steps away before another kid bolted toward the ball pit, and you hastened to intercept him, gently redirecting him toward arts and crafts. Wiping your brow, you started toward the security desk, then stopped as you realized you had no idea where markers might be. “Um…” Casting about the Daycare, nothing stood out to you as being particularly… storage-y. No cabinets or drawers or even doors leading into side rooms that you could see.

Ducking under the padded rope bridge, you maneuvered around toward the flock of children where they were all settling down to start drawing. Sun was handing out paper and markers, beaming down at the kids, and you immediately felt a surge of gratitude to be able to be working with him.

In such a short amount of time, you could already tell he was more of a natural with the children than even you, though that shouldn’t be a surprise– he was made for this, after all. He interacted with the kids with the sense and awareness of an adult, but the same glee and sincerity as a child; they felt a natural kinship toward him, and he had the mental acuity to know how to navigate any emotional turmoil or outbursts that needed a more mature approach. He really was perfectly suited to this role.

He lifted his head, tilting it toward you, and propped a fist on his hip. “Where are the markers?” he asked, tone scolding, and you jolted.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I-I don’t know where they are!”

Tutting, he shook his head, leaning over to dispense the rest of the crafts. “Then you should have asked, silly!” You flushed, not wanting to admit that you’d meant to do exactly that but had gotten lost in thought. He sighed, shaking his head. “If you can’t do your job, at least tell me so I can show you how.” The kids around you giggled.

You nodded firmly, straightening up. No more spacing out! “You got it! I’ll make sure to do a better job. Can you show me where the markers are?”

Turning on his heel, he beckoned for you to follow. And, where you couldn’t see, he indulged himself just once where the kids couldn’t see, rolling his eyes. The gushing was unnecessary, and he resisted the urge to make a snide remark about over-enthusiasm. The assistants never enjoyed being criticized by an animatronic, and it seemed you were no different.

Leading you to the equipment shed, he side-stepped and folded his hands behind his back. “You should have a key,” he said cheerfully, smiling all the while. He watched on in amusement as you searched your uniform, increasingly frantic. “Oh dear, did you not pick up all of your equipment? Not very organized, Sunshine.”

“I– I don’t think they gave me one!” you insisted, and he affected a dramatic sigh, shaking his head.

Reaching out, he unlocked it with some deft sleight of hand, and you blinked. Did he have a key incorporated into his machinery? That would make sense, and you tried to get a closer look at his wrist or fingers, but the door opened and you had to take in the interior of the little shed next.

There were spare plastic tables and chairs, a chest of toys, a box for lost and found, and a bin for broken items. A shelving unit of crafts took up one wall, and Sun slid open one of the drawers without a second thought, knowing exactly where the markers were. You admired his easy confidence, and hoped someday you could feel that at home here.

You were alone in the shed.

Blinking rapidly, you looked around and saw Sun had left already, and you hurried after him. “The shed, Sunshine,” he called without turning around, and you skid to a stop, nearly tripping on the tacky plastic of the play mats underfoot. Running– “No running in the Daycare!” – Trotting back to the shed, you closed the door and checked that it was locked. Heaving a relieved sigh, you turned and made your way back to the children.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a child wandering off in the direction of the ball pit, and you immediately booked it– … speed-walking after them. “The ball pit is closed, honey!” you called, a note of desperation in your voice as the boy looked up and pouted belligerently. “Why don’t we come do some arts and crafts?” you invited, smiling enticingly, and he frowned thoughtfully. “There’s macaroni art, and pipe cleaners, and–”

“Is there glitter glue?” he asked, eyes bright, and you grasped at this saving grace.

“There sure is!”

Nodding sagely, he abandoned his previous objective and started off toward the group of kids doing their crafts. Sagging in relief, you followed behind him, casting a gaze around the gathered children. So far so good.

Sun watched you with narrowed eyes, tapping a foot. You had grown comfortable ordering around the kids very easily today, and it grated on his nerves. Not even a teacher, he thought, scoffing silently; where did you get the gall to stroll into his Daycare and harness such undeserved authority without missing a beat?

As you made your way over to the crafts area, he tilted his head. You patrolled slowly around the perimeter, peering down at the kids’ drawings with an absentminded smile on your face, and his smile thinned. His tapping increased, until a low whine made him freeze and glance down. A boy was rubbing his ear, and Sun softened, crouching down. “Don’t like the tap-tap-tappin’?” he cooed, grinning and rolling his head.

The boy’s eyes crinkled up with a little giggle, and he shook his head. Sun bobbed his head, smile widening, and he lifted a finger to his mouth. “No more tap-tap-tappin’,” he promised softly, and the boy beamed happily. “Whatcha drawing, friend?” Leaning closer, Sun followed along as the boy pointed out all the different parts of his scene, from the jetpack puppy to the big sun and moon in the sky. “That is very clever!” he praised, clapping his hands gently together.

“What about me, Mr. Sun?” the girl across from them chimed, flapping her paper at him, and he grinned, leaning closer to assess her drawing.

“Very good!” he exclaimed. “Why, is that Monty I spy? I’m sure he’ll love love love it!”

You cleared your throat, and Sun twitched. Ah, he’d almost had a few blissful moments of forgetting you existed.

Tilting his head waaay back, well past the bounds of decorum and human anatomy, he grinned at you upside-down. The children laughed, used to his antics, but you felt your heart leap into your throat in shock at the almost horror movie-esque move. “Yeees, Sunshine?” he chirped, impatience ill-contained. He was busy, couldn’t you see that?

You could, of course, and you were immediately self-conscious. He wouldn’t be annoyed with you though, of course, would he? No, no. You were seeing ghosts where they didn’t exist again. Taking a deep breath, telling yourself to calm down, you exhaled slowly. “I was just wondering if there was anything I could do,” you offered, wanting to take initiative.

Sun had to resist the urge, once again, to roll his eyes. That was becoming a bad habit, one he should nip in the bud, but he could see it becoming difficult with you around. The goodie-two-shoes act was going to get old very fast. Of course there wasn’t anything you could do; it was crafts time, what kind of job did you expect him to conjure for you out of mid air?

It was a ploy, of course, and one the other assistants had used in their times as well. Not only did you want to endear the children to yourself, you wanted to come between them and the Daycare Attendant.

Human children shouldn’t be so close with an animatronic, they would say. It wasn’t healthy. It wasn’t good for their development. It would affect their social skills. They needed a human role model, someone they could actually relate to, someone that could actually understand them.

Sun clenched a fist gently in his lap, head clicking once to the side as his grin stretched a bit wider.

You stared in return, looking a bit surprised by the silence. After a beat, wondering if he’d maybe had a malfunction– was that insensitive to assume?-- you hesitantly began, “Um…”

Eyes clearing at once, Sun popped his head forward and stood. “Why don’t you take a break!” he suggested, turning around and propping his hands on his hips. “Humans need food, hydration, and rest to remain at peak performance!” All flaws, in his opinion, that made for an inferior caretaker. He could work around the clock. “We wouldn’t want you worrying your little noggin over such simple things!” Because clearly you weren’t thinking straight if you thought you had to ask for direction during arts and crafts.

Taken aback, blinking rapidly, you wracked your brain. A break? Already? It had only been a couple of hours.

Then again, if it was arts and crafts time, then there was no reason not to, right? Sun seemed perfectly capable of handling the children while they were all settled like this, and it wasn’t like there was anything for you to do other than stand around. Maybe bond with them, but if Sun thought this was a good opportunity for you to take a break, maybe he thought it would get too busy later on for you to snag one. He knew best, after all.

Nodding quickly, you straightened up. “Okay! Thanks!” Looking out at the kids, wondering if you should say anything, you decided it wasn’t necessary. They weren’t used to your presence yet, so they wouldn’t miss you if you slipped away for a little while.

Watching you depart, Sun let his smile curl a bit at the edges, exasperated. Finally a bit of peace. You couldn’t be very dedicated to the job if you would take the first excuse you leave it, really, and his opinion of you diminished even more.

“Mr. Sun?” One of the children tugged on his pant leg, and he crouched down, resting his arms on his knees.

“Yes, little star?” he asked, tilting his head.

“How long will this assistant stay?” they asked, pointing after you. Ah, they had such good memories.

Sun tilted his head, smile widening enough to squint his eyes. “Oh, I don’t know!” he hummed, tousling their hair and making them laugh in glee. “Maybe not too long! They don’t seem to, do they?”

“Uh-uh,” they responded, shaking their head in agreement. They stuck the end of a marker in their mouth, and Sun gently corrected the motion, replacing it with a chewable stim toy. They immediately took to the yellow and pink chicken-shaped rubber trinket, sticking it toward the back of their jaw and gnawing on it. “Why don’t they?” they asked around the mouthful, looking up at him.

Before he could reply, the girl beside them shuffled closer. “Don’t they like us?” she asked quietly, and Sun felt a pang.

“Oh dear dear dear,” he immediately cooed, reaching around and lifting her from her seat. “Who couldn’t love you? My precious little starlights!” Resting her on his knee, he rolled his head across his shoulders to cheer her up, and it evoked the smallest of giggles from her. “Now now, listen close,” he murmured, gently tapping her nose, before resting a hand over hers. “Don’t you worry your little noggin about grown-up problems. They’re sooo boring! My head could explode!” He retracted his sunrays, raising his hands and miming an eruption as he made a soft explosion sound. This prompted her to laugh a bit louder, and he grinned widely at her. “And remember: Grown-up problems are never, never your fault. All those silly assistants before don’t know what they’re missing out on! They don’t get to drink Fizzy Faz all day, and climb all over the jungle gym, and play in the ball pit until it’s time to go home! Who wouldn’t want to do that?”

“Crazy people!” one of the boys shouted at once, slamming his hands down on the plastic table.

“Exactly!” Sun exclaimed, bouncing his knee. “And worst of all,” he gasped, pinching her cheek until she was squealing gleefully, “They don’t get to spend aaall day with you!”

“Mr. Suuun,” she trilled, laughing as he chuckled and scooped her up in a hug.

“Now, what were you drawing, starlight?” he asked, circling the table and returning her to her seat.

At the entrance of the Daycare, you glanced around in search of any sign of where an employee might go for their break. Was there a staff lounge? Fiddling with your nametag, you contemplated getting something to eat, but you’d had a large breakfast in anticipation of working through lunch. Maybe one of the S.T.A.F.F. bots could point you in the right direction? Or maybe the map bots, though it probably wouldn’t include anything beyond the public areas.

Oh! You remembered your employee handbook. It must have some sort of map for new employees. Turning on your heel, you strode back into the Daycare, making a beeline for the security desk where you had left everything.

Slowing as you passed by the children, you watched as Sun flit from one table to the next, giving each child attention. Pictures were flattered with genuine enthusiasm, and even the shy kids were eager to start on new drawings after he was done complimenting their work.

On your way by, Sun studiously ignored you, and you– in your determination to remain positive– misinterpreted it as his devotion to the children. (Well, that wasn’t necessarily a misinterpretation; he certainly was devoted to them… but he was also ignoring you.)

Thankfully you weren’t intending to ask him about where you might find the employee lounge, though it crossed your mind now and you considered it. No, no– you didn’t want to bother him with something unrelated to the kids. You should try to manage some things on your own.

Retrieving your employee’s handbook and leaving the Daycare again, you flipped through it. There were… a concerning amount of safety waivers, and you tried to skip through them to find any hint of directions on where you might find a place to relax during your break. Feeling a prickle of sweat on the nape of your neck as you realized you’d kind of skimmed this part of the book in your haste to sign the contract, you continued flipping pages, and felt an immediate surge of relief when the waivers turned into nondisclosure agreements about anything proprietary you may see while in the employ of Fazbear Entertainment.

Phew.

Finally, at the back, there was a modified map of the Pizzaplex. Directions for the kitchen and loading dock, Parts and Service, Monty Golf catwalks… Scouring the map, increasingly discouraged, you felt your shoulders droop as you failed to find any sort of employee lounge.

You supposed you could take your break in the Daycare, but the thought of walking into the Daycare for a second time, where Sun would be able to see you double back again, was lowkey mortifying.

So, the food court it was. At least you had your book–

…

…

Slowly, you looked over your shoulder at the Daycare, feeling your lip wobble a bit.

You hadn’t picked it up when you got your employee handbook.

Hanging your head in defeat, you buried your face in your hands.

This was fine.

Totally fine…

Your lunch dragged on without a book to read, trying to people-watch but immediately growing self-conscious at staring at strangers. The employee discount was nice, though the pizza left something to be desired considering it came from a place called the Pizzaplex. You preferred the little mom and pop pizzeria by your apartment, Giuseppina’s. They always included a container of their homemade gelato when you placed an order as thanks for helping them learn to communicate with their nonverbal niece a few years back, so maybe you were biased.

Congealed cheese dribbled from the crust, and you tilted your head. Maybe not too biased.

Standing and depositing everything into the garbage, you went to the bathroom to wash your hands, then returned to the Daycare. It had already been thirty minutes, and while they had dragged on at the time, now it felt like no time had passed at all. You were ready to get back to work, and as you crossed the threshold into the brightly lit Daycare, you took a deep breath with a smile.

The children were running around again, arts and crafts done with. You cast a nervous glance at the ball pit and were relieved to see that it was still empty.

“Do you want to go play in the tunnels?” Sun was asking one of the younger tots, carrying her in his arms, and she squeezed a plush toy close as she thought about it.

“Hello, Sun,” you greeted, puffing up your chest a bit as you approached. He blinked, tilting his head as he looked toward you.

“Oh, hello, Sunshine,” he said, narrowing an eye as he grinned wryly. “Back so soon?”

Blinking quickly, you tugged at your collar. “Uh, it was thirty minutes!” you responded. “I had some pizza for lunch.”

“Is that all! Not very healthy, no no no.” He wagged a finger in your face, and you recoiled a little, crossing your eyes. “A bad example for the kiddies, yes yes yes it is. Do you know what they should have eaten for lunch, Pepper?”

The little girl looked down at you with wide eyes. “Brogly,” she muffled into her plush, and Sun gave her a little bounce.

“A very good idea! Vegetables are a part of every balanced meal!” Sun agreed, nodding along.

You rubbed the back of your neck, feeling guilt creep up. He wasn’t wrong, and normally you ate better, but you hadn’t packed your own lunch today– you still don’t know where you’d even put it! Where was the employee lounge in this place?!-- and the food court hadn’t had any better options.

Trying to lighten the mood, you smiled a bit. “Good thing none of them saw me,” you said, abashed, and Sun tilted his head, eyes narrowing as his smile widened a bit.

That, Sun thought, sounded like a lie. Or a secret. Not allowed, not allowed.

“Well! If you don’t care to eat healthy, why don’t you go get some dessert!” Sun suggested, reaching out and tapping your nose. You pulled your head back in surprise.

“D– dessert?” you repeated, stuttering as he spun away and started toward the jungle gym. For a moment you were rooted to the spot, but you snapped out of it and ran after him.

“No running, Sunshine,” he reminded you, shooting a narrow smile over his shoulder, and you skid to a stop at his heel, burning with embarrassment. You had to stop forgetting that.

“But my break is over,” you said quickly, speed-walking to match his long strides. Lordy he was tall! “I don’t need dessert, I’m good! I’m ready to get back to work! And the kids are all running around–”

“I can handle them!” Sun chirped, leaning over to set Pepper down and gently nudge her toward a tunnel. She immediately wrapped her plush toy around her neck, holding its arms around her neck with one hand and crawling up into the jungle gym. “That’s what I was made for, after all!” Straightening up, he planted his hands on his hips, casting a look around the Daycare, completely overlooking you.

Deep inside, right at the crux of your ribcage, you felt a pang like an icepick. That was a good point, wasn’t it? The Daycare Attendant had been made with this exact purpose in mind; why would they need a human assistant?

Why would they need a human assistant like you?

You weren’t a teacher, you didn’t even have any formal education in childcare.

Not noticing your internal crisis, Sun continued his attempt at ignoring you. When you didn’t leave, though, he took it to mean that you were refusing, and he heaved a sigh. “If you reeeally need something to do, you could at least tidy up from crafts!” he finally said, deciding it would at least get you out of the way for a while.

Latching onto the direction immediately, you nodded and departed for the crafts area. The feeling inside of you was twisting like a thorny vine around your lungs, pricking everything it came into contact with, and you tried to breathe around the knots. Some manual labour would do you good.

First, the drawings. Carefully gathering up all the pictures, you stacked them on the center table, trying to admire the imaginations that been brought to life. They were sweet, innocent, and they helped smooth out the roughest edges of the anxiety attack. Once everything that needed to be preserved was set aside, you went to the shed to get a garbage bag– and realized once again that you didn’t have a key.

You thought about asking Sun to open it, but the idea made your stomach twist uncomfortably. Not ready for that just yet, you instead picked up one of the garbage cans by the security desk and carried that over, picking up scraps and sweeping trash into the can as you went. Next came the markers, capping everything and sorting them all, returning them to their packages. Crayons, scissors, glue, and finally leftover construction paper.

It was an easy task, and one that took just enough of your attention span to loosen the grip of anxiety that had seized you.

Shaking your head, you straightened up and ran a hand through your hair, lifting your gaze to skyward and squinting at the solar system motifs painted on the ceiling. Sun was made for this, that was true, and he had every right to say it. That didn’t mean you didn’t have every right to be here as well; you’d been hired for this job, and he said himself that he thought you’d do just fine here, or something close enough to that. You were his assistant. He would rub off on you eventually.

Allowing yourself a small smile, you didn’t notice Sun watching you in annoyance from across the Daycare. Why did you look so satisfied with yourself? All you’d done was clean up the crafts area. You surveyed the Daycare and, catching his eye, offered a chipper wave. Stiffening in surprise, he let his grin twitch just a tad wider, narrowing an eye. Ah.

You weren’t going to let him get under your skin with menial tasks, was that it?

Well, two could play at that game.

He could always up the ante.

“Knock knock,” a voice interrupted his thoughts from the door, and he perked up.

“Hellooo!” Head spinning, he rotated the rest of his body to follow, crossing toward the guardian. He recognized her immediately, all of their faces filed away for quick identification and pickup. “Ready to pick up little Dusan?” He smiled brightly, and she returned the expression with a nod. Behind her, a teenager was tapping away at her phone, not looking up. Sun was mentally relieved; he didn’t handle adolescents very well.

“We have a dinner reservation across town,” Dusan’s mother explained as Sun took up a post beside her and pretended to shield his eyes, scoping the Daycare for the boy in question. “We need to get home and clean up before Mummy gets home from work.”

“Of course, of course! Clean-up is very important!” Sun agreed gamely, spotting a familiar teal t-shirt disappearing into one of the tunnels. “Aha! Space cadet spotted!” The mother chuckled, and Sun’s eyes crinkled up. No matter the age, he had a soft spot for anyone that enjoyed his antics. “I’ll go fetch him,” he told her, clasping his hands together and starting across the Daycare.

As he intercepted Dusan on the rope bridge, playfully trying to coax him out of the jungle gym, another parent entered the Daycare. “Hello?”

Standing by the security desk, reaching for your water bottle, you didn’t lift your head at first– until they repeated, “Hello?” and you glanced over quickly, realizing Sun must be busy.

“Oh! Hello!” you exclaimed, hastily setting your water bottle down. It fell over and you tried to right it, missing your grab, and it rolled off the counter. Stalling mentally, you quickly decided you could pick it up later and rushed over to the entrance. “Are you here to pick up your child?”

The man looked at you, seeming surprised. “Yes. Sunita.”

The name drew a blank in your mind, which wasn’t a surprise; you’d just started a few hours ago, after all. “Right! Of course. I–” Stopping, you realized you didn’t know this man from Adam, either. You couldn’t turn over custody of a child to a stranger without first verifying his identity. Oh no. “Um, do you have ID on you?” you asked, trying to muster a bit of confidence.

“ID?” he asked, brow furrowing. “I’ve never had to show ID before. Isn’t the robot supposed to know all this?”

Right. The Daycare Attendant must have a directory for this, you realized, and you rubbed the back of your neck. “I’m sorry, I’m the new assistant. I just need to make sure I’m not letting the kids go home with strangers,” you explained, hoping he would understand.

He did not. “I’m not some stranger,” he snapped, looking irate. “I’m her father. Just ask her!”

You couldn’t trust the word of a toddler about these matters, but you had the feeling that he wouldn’t take that very well. Your deescalation wasn’t at its best, and you felt yourself breaking into a sweat. You didn’t handle other people’s anger very well. “I’m sorry sir, it’s policy,” you tried, “It’s just to keep the kids safe–”

“From her own father?” he demanded, taking a step closer, and you felt your personal bubble pop as you shrank back.

“No, of course not–”

“Because that’s what it sounds like,” he went on, raising his voice.

A few feet away, a woman was looking up from her phone, her hackles rising. “Hey,” she began, and part of you prayed she was coming to your rescue while the other half didn’t want her to attract his wrath onto herself.

“Heeere’s Dusan!” Sun exclaimed, interrupting at the perfect time, and swung a young boy through the air as he squealed happily.

The woman blinked, quickly redirected, and accepted the boy. “Hello, Мили,” she greeted, nuzzling his temple and making him giggle.

“Hi mama,” he greeted, wrapping his arms around her neck. “Hi Divna!” he called over his mother’s shoulder to the teenager, flapping a hand, and she raised a hand without looking up from her phone.

“Thank you, Sun,” she said with a smile, though it inverted quickly as she looked toward you, and you jumped– no, it passed you and fixed on the man. “This man is being very rude to your assistant,” she went on, and the man whipped around.

“Your assistant is being incompetent,” he snapped back, jabbing a finger in your direction. “I’m here to pick up my daughter–”

“Sunita!” Sun cut in promptly, voice chipper as he raised a finger. “She made a very lovely drawing of Chica during arts and crafts! Would you like to take it home today?”

The man recoiled, taken aback and stammering briefly. Then, cutting a hand through the air, he said, “I want to see my daughter.”

“Of course!” Taking a step forward, Sun folded his arms behind his back and leaned in close to the man, eyes crinkling up with a wide smile. “However, please remember that we do not allow raised voices or aggressive behavior in the Daycare. Bullying is against the rules!” Splaying a hand in your direction, he went on, “Staff must be treated with respect at all times. They are following the rules to ensure the safety and happiness of the children!”

The man opened his mouth, probably to argue, and Sun raised a finger quickly between them. “Your continued patronage of the Superstar Daycare is contingent on your abidance to the contract signed when you enrolled Sunita in July of last year!” he added, grin stretching wider. “If you require a copy to refamiliarize yourself with the rules, my assistant can retrieve one for you!”

Taking a step back, his face screwed up in an array of conflicting emotions, the man looked like he wanted to spit out any number of blasphemies. Sun’s head rotated a tick, eyes narrowed and zeroed in like he was waiting for the opportunity to pounce and remind the man of yet another rule– after all there was, of course, no swearing in the Daycare.

You watched in awe, wide-eyed as Sun handled the man with tact and no small amount of mettle. It crossed the line from confidence and straight into fearlessness, a master of his domain, wielding the rules like a gavel against someone that had dared trespass on the etiquette of decorum.

Sun was a born natural when it came to entertaining and handling children, and you had to wonder if this finesse in managing an errant adult was just as natural or something he had learned from experience.

Clicking his tongue harshly, the man glared at Sun. “No,” he growled, shooting a glare your way. “I just want to pick up my daughter.”

“Stu-super-pendous!” Sun exclaimed, popping upright and clapping his hands together. “Sunshine, why don’t you go fetch Sunita?” Before you could stammer that you didn’t know who she was, he went on, “She’s wearing a lovely purple Roxy Rockstar t-shirt!”

Immediately the little girl in question popped into your head, and you nodded. “O-okay!” Casting a glance at the man and flinching when you caught him glaring at you, you beat a hasty retreat as you cast around for the familiar purple shirt. Where would she be, where would she be?

Stopping in the middle of the Daycare, out of sight of the door, you laid a hand over your heart and willed it to settle. You hadn’t expected to get shouted at on your first day, but Sun had come to your rescue.

The thought helped you relax a bit, and you closed your eyes to help compose yourself. Taking a deep breath, feeling a smile teasing at the corner of your mouth, you lifted your head and looked up toward the jungle gym. “Hey,” you called to one of the kids, and he stopped, dropping to his knees to get closer to you. “Have you seen Sunita? She’s wearing a Roxy Rockstar t-shirt.”

He shook his head, and you let him get back to his game, searching through the jungle gym. Every minute that passed you felt like a weight, a point against you, and you were ready to panic until you caught a glimpse of purple in one of the tunnels. “Sunita?” You ducked your head down, and she stopped crawling, looking back.

“Uh-huh?”

“Hi, sweetheart! Your daddy is here to pick you up.”

Her face brightened immediately and she backwards-scuttled out of the tunnel, popping up. “Daddy!” Her hair was fizzed out every which way from the static of the tunnel and you laughed.

“Want some help with your hair?” you asked, and she blinked, reaching up and squishing it down.

“Oh! No I’m okay!” she assured you, and ran toward the entrance.

“No running,” you called, following behind, and she slowed down a bit. As soon as she saw her father, though, she bolted forward and threw herself into his arms.

He caught her, lifting her into his arms and kissing her head. “What happened to your hair?” he asked, scolding, but his expression had smoothed out since you left, and he brushed her hair down.

Approaching a bit slowly, you lingered by Sun’s side. The woman had left with her two kids, and you felt bad, having wanted to thank her for trying to defend you.

“Excuse me.” Looking up, you found the man looking at you, expression a bit agitated but not outright cross like before. “I’m… sorry for my outburst.”

A bit taken aback, you stammered, “O-oh, it’s okay! You just wanted to see Sunita, I understand.”

He frowned, looking like he wanted to say something more, but he didn’t. Nodding curtly, he turned and left, ignoring Sun entirely. Sunita waved at you from over his shoulder and you wiggled your fingers in return, smiling a bit.

“Suuunshiiiine,” Sun cooed, and you looked up, still smiling. “You sure are jumping into it! Helping parents already!” He clapped his hands together sharply enough that you almost jumped. “We love the enthusiasm! But maybe you aren’t ready for that yet, since you don’t know the kids, hmmm?” His grin stretched a bit wider, head tilting a few ticks. “After all, you can’t help if you don’t recognize the parents, of course. Silly silly, what did you think would happen?”

Your smile slipped a bit. This was your job now, and you’d wanted to help. What were you supposed to do, ignore the parents? Shoulders drooping, you rubbed the back of your neck. “I, uh, I guess I didn’t think,” you began, and Sun snapped his fingers before you could continue.

“Seems like it!” he chirped, and you blinked quickly. “But that’s okay! Now hopefully you won’t make the same mistake twice!” Cupping his chin, he turned on his heel, humming. “Why don’t we find you something to do that’s more your speeeeeed? Liiike…” Head rolling first one way, then the other, he considered deeply.

And, despite yourself, you couldn’t help it– you covered your mouth, muffling a little laugh. He froze, and then tilted his head one tick to the side. He really was an entertainer, you thought, eyes crinkled up happily. He couldn’t help but be funny.

“Paperwork!” Pointing toward the ceiling, then aiming his finger toward the security desk, he turned and grinned at you, the expression strangely off-kilter. “Waaay over there! That should be easy enough, shouldn’t it?”

Following his pointing, you tilted your head. It would give you a good view of the whole Daycare, and it would certainly alleviate some of the pressure of your first day. Plus it would give you a chance to observe him and learn a bit more about your role from osmosis rather than tripping and stumbling as you tried to pick it up on the go. “Sure!” you agreed, brightening. “Thanks, Sun.”

As you departed for the security desk, Sun’s grin froze on his face, staring after you. Ohh, he did not like you. He’d just given you an excuse to sit around and do nothing, hadn’t he? Eyes narrowing, smile growing thin, he considered calling you back… but decided against it.

At least you would be out of his way for the rest of the day, and that was the best case scenario for the first day. Sniffing in disdain, he spun on his heel and started back toward the play area.

The rest of the day went by with relative ease, thank goodness. At first you started going through the safety waivers you had signed, though quickly you put that aside when they threatened to give you a fucking panic attack. Maybe it was better for your mental health if you didn’t know.

When that was a bust, you decided to go through your list of responsibilities. There were a lot, but most of them were fairly straightforward; help the Daycare Attendant as needed, look after the safety and wellbeing of the children, and keep the Daycare in tip-top shape were your top priorities. After that came secondary but still obvious tasks, like tidying up after closing time, putting in repair requests when something was broken, organizing playtime activities for the children, etcetera. All things that you’d learned during your times volunteering at daycares and schools.

Resting your head on your palm, you continued to scan the evacuation protocols, half-listening as more parents stopped by to pick up their kids. The din of the Daycare began to die down as there were less voices to fill the air, and when you next glanced up, Sun had shepherded the last handful of tots into the crafts area to draw while they waited for their guardians to arrive.

Realizing your opportunity, you scrambled to open up the Daycare directory. As each child was picked up, you committed their names to memory when Sun spoke it, then checked their guardian’s names as well and studied their faces intently. It was only about six, but it was a start; you would be able to remember these children and their guardians now, for when they were picked up, and you were satisfied with that for your first day.

While Sun waved goodbye to the last kid, you logged off of the system and stood up, coming around the security desk. The schedule had said it would be clean-up time immediately following the last child’s departure, and so you started tidying up the small mess that had been left by the last few kids in the crafts area.

You didn’t notice at first that Sun had disappeared, not until you finished with that task and straightened up. Glancing around to see what he was up to, you realized he was nowhere to be seen. Surprised, you gave the Daycare a quick patrol, searching for him, but turned up nothing. “Sun?” you called tentatively, tilting your head. You’d been told he couldn’t leave the Daycare– which in your opinion wasn’t really fair, while the other animatronics got free roam of the Pizzaplex, but it wasn’t your place to say so– and after a beat you looked up towards castle prop protruding from the wall.

Had he retreated into his room without saying anything to you? Rubbing the back of your neck, you recalled being told that the Daycare Attendant didn’t like changing between his roles in front of people. You’d been hoping to ask him for some feedback on your first day, but if the lights were going to go out soon, you wouldn’t want to force him into an uncomfortable position.

Stayin’ posi, you told yourself, taking a deep breath. Okay. You could do this.

You didn’t need Sun to hold your hand. You were a capable adult, and you’d worked in these kinds of environments before. So, what was the logical next step for you to do? There was plenty of cleaning up to do from the day…

… but you realized where your priority should lie. Looking toward the ball pit, you internalized a low groan.

Okay! Clean the ball pit.

It felt wrong to leave the Daycare without saying anything, and so you approached the castle. “Hey Sun!” you called, wringing your hands together. “I’m gonna go down to Parts and Service and uh, find out how to clean the ball pit after the accident today!”

There was no response, and after a beat, you nodded to yourself.

Retrieving your employee’s map from your file (and feeling a burst of pride that you’d remembered before you left), you shook it out and located the Daycare, pressing your finger to your current location and sliding it along as you strode out the front entrance.

Strolling through the food court, you followed your own finger through the Pizzaplex, occasionally glancing up to ensure you didn’t bump into any S.T.A.F.F. bots or wet floor bots or stragglers heading for the exits. There were less and less people as you made your way toward the back rooms, and you finally pushed your way out of the public area with a sigh of relief.

You bumped into someone.

Again.

“I’m so sorry,” you began, and looked up in surprise.

It was the first guy you had bumped into today.

Benjamin blinked down at you from behind his glasses, seeming to take a moment before placing you. “Oh. It’s you.”

Feeling a flush creep up the back of your neck, you coughed. “Uh, yeah. It’s me.”

Looking down at your employee’s map, then back to your face, he asked, “What are you doing here?” There was a furrow to his brow, like he was expecting something unsavory.

You quickly waved your hands. “I’m just going down to Parts and Service!” you explained hastily, feeling a prickle of sweat. “One of the kids had an accident in the ball pit so I’m going to get something to clean it up.”

Frowning just a bit, he took that into consideration. Then, looking down at his phone, he said casually, “I’d guess you don’t mind the excuse to leave the Daycare for a bit either.”

Tilting your head, you noticed at least that he was fishing for something, but you couldn’t figure out what. Did he think you wouldn’t enjoy spending time with kids as much as a teacher might? Quickly you reassured him, “No way! It’s just that the kids really wanted to play in it today, so I want to make sure it’s clean for them tomorrow.”

Lifting his gaze slowly to your face, he looked skeptical. Still, he didn’t push the topic, and you felt yourself sag in relief. Maybe you’d passed some silent test. “How is your first day going?” he asked, tapping at his phone, only half-listening.

“Good!” you said immediately, straightening up. You definitely didn’t want to betray any doubt to management, and so you scrounged up all of your determination and cobbled together an effigy of confidence. “The kids are really well-behaved– they listen even though I’m new, and Sun is amazing with them.”

“And with you?” he asked, not looking up.

You stalled, smile briefly fixed in place, before tilting your head. “I’m sorry?”

“The Daycare Attendant,” he clarified. “Is he good with you?”

… Was he implying that Sun needed to handle you? Feeling a flicker of indignation, you felt your smile tighten. “He’s great,” you said, a bit stiffly. “I should get going.”

It was probably too abrupt, because Benjamin lifted his gaze to you at that. Searching your face, he frowned just a bit, looking like he wanted to say something. You immediately cursed yourself for being rude, expecting him to reprimand you.

Instead, he only nodded. “Let us know if you need anything,” he said, stepping aside.

“Sure! Can do!” you agreed quickly, nodding as you ducked past him. You could feel his stare on your back right up until you turned the corner, and immediately leaned up against the wall to take a deep breath.

“Okay,” you whispered to yourself, looking down at your map. Parts and Service. Following the halls carefully, you found the elevator on the map and stepped inside, then flipped over to the other side as you descended into the basement.

Your relief in finding Parts and Service was short-lived. The place was massive, and you gawked. The first room was shelving units stacked with various types of equipment you didn’t recognize whatsoever, and you walked through it slowly, scanning for any sign of cleaning supplies. The door at the end of the hall led into another room nearly identical to the last, and you doubled back, remembering there had been another door.

Pushing in to Parts and Service proper, you stopped. It was a circular room, with what looked like some sort of mad scientist tank in the middle that occupied your attention for a long while. Slowly you scanned the area, spotting empty rooms off to the right and more unfamiliar equipment to the left.

Passing the tank, you spotted a staircase leading up to a second floor, though there were only doors emblazoned with the Glamrocks’ silhouettes there. Running a hand through your hair, you realized this wasn’t going to be as easy as you thought.

Approaching the left wall where the unfamiliar equipment was, you started to search for something that looked like a cleaning machine. How does someone clean a ball pit anyway? Did you just throw cleaning supply in and mix it all up like a soup? It would have to be pretty diluted to keep the kids safe, and there was no guarantee of getting rid of the contamination.

Realizing that you had no idea what you were doing, you took a deep breath, trying to keep it steady. It shivered once, and you exhaled slowly, then tried again. Better. Just a bit.

You realized that the Daycare would be properly closed by the time you returned, and that meant Sun would be replaced with Moon. You would be working with the Naptime Attendant now, readying the Daycare for the next day, and Sun hadn’t even said goodbye.

Had he forgotten? Did he think you would be back in time to say something? But no, if he had retreated to his castle room then he had no intention of coming out until he changed.

Was he already annoyed with you? Did you already alienate your coworker– or, more technically, your boss? Because you were his assistant, after all. It was strange to think about being assistant to an animatronic, but the thought hadn’t even crossed your mind before now.

You didn’t notice your pulse start to quicken. You didn’t notice the hint of lightheadedness as you leaned a hand against a barrel.

Hadn’t you done a good job today? You took direction well, you had taken initiative, you did as you were told, you were good with the kids. You’d done everything right.

You’d done everything right.

Closing your eyes, you touched fingers to your temple, repeating it as a mantra. You’d done everything right. There was no reason to think Sun would be displeased with your work.

It was paranoid to think someone you barely knew would dislike you already, and you knew that. It took a lot of assumptions about that person, none of them favorable, and that was unfair to Sun.

Taking a slow, deep breath, you tried to settle your anxiety. There were any number of reasons why Sun might have retreated to his castle– or maybe he hadn’t, and you’d just missed him. You were making a whole lot of assumptions to come to a very unfavorable conclusion, and one that you had made– unjustly– in the past.

Patterns, patterns.

Opening your eyes, you tried to shake off the episode. You were fine. First day jitters. You were going to get through this, and maybe you’d pick up some takeout on the way home as reward for doing so well.

You didn’t expect to hear your name in this spooky place, and you jumped nearly out of your skin with a low screech, whipping around to see an unfamiliar woman standing by the door you had just come in. Not missing a beat, she asked, “That you?” as she scratched at the edge of her buzz cut. Heart still pounding, gawking, you nodded tentatively. “Benjamin sent me down to show you were the ball pit machine was. Said you prolly wouldn’t recognize it.”

Eyes wide, you stared at her as she turned around and left the room. Finally registering what she had said, you gave a little gasp and dashed after her, pushing into the outer room to find her pulling down a strange looking vacuum-like machine from the shelves. “Benjamin sent you?” you asked, surprised.

“Yup.” With a heave, she thumped down the machine and gave it a pat. “Alright, here’s how it works. You get the cleaning stuff from the Daycare, put it in here. Then you take half the balls outta the pit– put ‘em in a bag or something– set up a divider to separate clean from dirty, and start suckin’ ‘em up into the tube to get cleaned up. Blast ‘em into the clean section, easy peasy.”

Trying to keep up with it, you nodded along, barely managing to catch the tube as she tossed it over to you. “Uh, if one of the kids had an accident,” you began, and she snorted.

“Different story,” she said, waving a hand. “Take all the balls out, clean the pit itself first, then suck up the balls and blast ‘em back in.”

“When you say ‘blast ‘em’,” you said hesitantly, staring down at the machine and realizing you had very little idea how it worked.

Leaning over, she patted the rear side of it, and you circled around to see a hole. “Comes shootin’ outta here at mach speed,” she explained. “Just aim it where you want the clean ones to go.”

“Gotcha.” Nodding slowly, you hefted the tube over your shoulder, then reached down and grabbed the handle on the front end of the machine. “Okay, I should be able to take it from here.”

“Moon will know how to handle it if you get stuck,” she responded, straightening up. “If he’ll tell you, anyway.”

Blinking, you adjusted the tube a bit. “What do you mean?”

Shaking her head, she propped a hand on her hip, running a hand through her hair. “Oh, the Daycare Attendant is notoriously difficult to work with. More of a brat than the kids they work with, honestly.” She rolled her eyes.

You tilted your head, thinking back on the day as you pursed your lips. “Hm…” To be honest, you couldn’t see it. He’d encouraged you in the beginning, and the memory was a little warm and fuzzy already. You’d been so ready to doubt yourself, but his words had given you the boost you needed to face the day. Working with kids was always going to be difficult, and sometimes nerves would wear thin, but you never wanted to take that kind of thing personally.

“Well, anyway. I’ll leave you to it.” She gave a little mock salute. “Good luck.” Turning, she headed into the circular room.

“Thanks for your help!” you responded. “And I’ll need it hah, I’ve never cleaned a ball pit before.”

Without looking back, she called, “Not what I meant,” as she disappeared into one of the back rooms. You blinked, tilting your head. What else could she have meant?

You would have been thinking about it still, if wrangling the cleaning machine into the elevator and down the hallway hadn’t proven to be such an unruly task. Grunting and wrestling with the tube, you tried to keep your swearing to a minimum, and to end it entirely once you were back out in the public area.

Blinking, you lifted your head, realizing the lights were out. You had been down there longer than you thought. Inhaling deeply, you hefted the tube over your shoulder and, abandoning the handle entirely, took to dragging it on its stubby wheels toward the Daycare.

The lights inside were off as well, and you squinted into the darkness as you passed the threshold. “Hello?” you called, struggling to get the machine over the play mats. Thankfully the ball pit wasn’t far, but you were realizing that working in the dark was not going to be ideal. If this was going to be a regular occurrence, you’d either need to develop darkvision or get one of those headlamp things.

The wheel snagged on a play mat and you groaned, turning around and bending down to drag it over. Standing straight, you wiped your brow, turning around.

You– didn’t bump into somebody, because they took a neat step back to avoid it.

You still recoiled in shock, tripping back over the vacuum and landing sprawled on the play mats.

Moon stood over you, arms folded behind his back as he stared down at you, red eyes glowing dimly in the dark. “Ch– h– sorry!” you finally managed to sutter, aborting the curse immediately and the greeting as ridiculous in such a situation. Scrambling to your feet, you felt shaken, putting a hand over your pounding heart. “H-hello,” you tried again, staring up at him.

His head tilted a single tick to the side, otherwise unresponsive. After a moment, you tentatively introduced yourself. “I’m… your new assistant.” You hadn’t shaken hands with Sun, but he had been busy with the kids. After a moment you offered your hand, feeling awkward.

Moon’s gaze flicked down to your hand, appraising it, then back up to your face. He made no move to take it, though his eyes did narrow just a bit, and you felt your stomach sink. Had you done something wrong already?

Swallowing, you withdrew your hand. “... I, uh, was just… going to clean the ball pit,” you explained slowly, gesturing vaguely to the machine behind you. Part of you didn’t want to turn your back on Moon, and wasn’t that ridiculous? Maybe it was because you were in the dark with a stranger, but he was a caretaker animatronic; violence would be strictly against his programming. “One of the kids had an accident earlier today.”

For a long moment neither of you spoke, and you could feel your anxiety curling its claws around your lungs. It was difficult to misinterpret the silent treatment, especially when someone was staring directly at you.

Then, unexpectedly, he finally spoke. “Waiting for an invitation?” he mused, and you were taken aback by how different his voice was from Sun’s; still lilting and songlike, but softer, and in a distinctly more mocking tone– one that made your hackles rise in surprise.

Realizing he was right, you shook your head quickly, keeping silent in your embarrassment as you turned and snatched up the tube to the machine. You walked past him, quick and quiet, and missed the surprised look on his face.

He hadn’t expected you to turn your back on him so easily.

Most had the instinct not to do that.

Tilting his head, he stared after you curiously, before calling down the cable and rising silently into the air. Situating himself atop the jungle gym, he crouched and watched you work.

You spent a while setting up the machine, finding the cord and then fighting to get it out all the way, and finally finding an outlet to plug it in. Then came the humiliating process of getting off the child-safety cover, fumbling with your blunt nails, and eventually using the spokes on the plug to pry it off.

The whole time you could feel Moon staring at you, and you burned with his rapt attention. Now you could understand what the engineer downstairs was talking about; she’d meant Moon was notoriously difficult to work with, not Sun. And, a step past that, you realized this was what she had been wishing you luck for.

Yeah, you were going to need it.

Returning to the ball pit, you stared down into it, trying to figure out how many bags you would need to stash the balls. This was going to be a big job.

Feeling a trickle of dread, you once again became hyper-aware of Moon staring at you. “... Um…” Wringing your hands together, you didn’t look up. “... I need to get some garbage bags out of the storage shed,” you said, glancing back toward it.

“Hmm,” came the noncommittal response, and you bit your lip. Brat was right.

“I don’t have a key,” you continued, finally lifting your gaze to where he was perched upon one of the tubes.

He tilted his head a notch to the right, gazing down at you. The stand-off lasted for several long moments before he deigned to respond. “Asking, or telling?” he wondered, and you blinked.

He wanted you to be direct. Okay. “Can you open the shed for me?” you asked cautiously, and his eyes crinkled up.

“Can I?” he cooed, and you were launched back in time to middle school when your insufferable 6th grade teacher would ask the same thing.

Staring up at him in disbelief, you opened your mouth, then closed it. “Will you?” you tried, because may you was just bad grammar.

Chuckling quietly, Moon rose to his feet and stepped off the tube, dropping quick and tidy to the play mats. Landing on his feet without the need to crouch, he strode past you toward the shed, and you hurried after him.

By the time you caught up, the door was open, and Moon was nowhere to be seen. Searching for him briefly, then deciding it wasn’t worth the effort, you walked in and grabbed the whole box of garbage bags just to be safe. Snatching a pair of rubber gloves and the cleaning mixture, you double-checked that you had everything before heading out.

Returning to the ball pit, you flapped out the first bag and scooped up as many balls as you could from where you were crouched over the side of the pit. It fit a lot, but barely put a dent in the pit itself, and you groaned quietly to yourself. This was going to be a long, arduous task. Was it even your responsibility? Shouldn’t this be the custodian’s job?

You didn’t have an answer, and so you erred on the side of caution. Filling garbage bags one after the other, you were eventually standing in the pit with balls up to your knees, scooping more and more into bags. Whether Moon was watching or not didn’t cross your mind but a few times, and you didn’t search for him. You had enough work to do without worrying about your audience.

With the final bag hoisted out of the pit, you took a deep breath and wiped sweat from your brow. Climbing out, you peeled off your gloves and set them aside, going to the security desk and taking a chug out of your water bottle. Checking the time, you winced when you saw it had taken nearly an hour just to get the pit emptied out. Now you had to clean the pit and sanitize the balls– you probably weren’t getting home before midnight.

“Slacker,” Moon spoke from above you and you jumped, dropping your water. Looking up quickly, you searched the empty air above you, finding no sign of him.

“What?” Spinning around, you couldn’t locate the animatronic.

“Sla-cker,” Moon repeated from directly behind you, and you whipped around. He was crouched on the security desk, his face directly in yours, and you fell back– directly into the puddle you had just made from your water bottle.

Scrambling to your feet, you felt the water dripping down your pants, shock winding up your spine. What the hell. What the hell. How bad was your luck? Peeling the material from your skin with a grimace, you shuddered, staring down at the stain in dismay. “I-I was just getting a drink,” you protested, looking up– aaand he was gone.

Shoulders sagging, you looked back down at your pant leg and the water soaking down toward your shoe. You took a few moments to let your new reality sink in, resigning yourself to your damp fate. It wasn’t going to be comfortable to work in, but you hadn’t brought any spare clothes yet. You didn’t even know where you would put them– where was the employee lounge in this place?!

Trudging back to the shed, you grabbed some paper towels and pat-dried your pants as well as you could. Making your way back to the security desk, you knelt and soaked up the rest of the puddle, tossing the wet paper towels into the garbage and setting your empty water bottle aside.

Stretching slowly, you decided not to look at the clock. Returning the paper towels to the shed, then walking to the ball pit, you grabbed the cleaning spray… and realized you needed something to rub the ball pit down.

Those paper towels would have worked perfectly.

With an air of defeat, you retrieved the paper towels again, and set about wiping down the ball pit. You were thorough, wondering how long it had been since this had been done, and lost yourself in the repetitive motion.

By the time you were done, it had to have been another hour. Once again you didn’t look at the clock, climbing out and discarding your gloves, then scouring the machine for its ON switch. Finding it, you filed that away as you filled the machine with its cleaning solution, then opened the bags and hefted the tube. “Okay,” you told yourself with a nod. Here goes nothing.

Flipping the machine on, you aimed it into the bag.

Above you, over the sound of the vacuum, you heard a snicker.

Dread filled you as you realized too late that you’d done something wrong.

But what? What was it?

The vacuum sucked up the balls, sanitized them– and blasted them at mach speed out into the Daycare.

You forgot to aim the machine at the ball pit.

“Nooo!” Scrambling, you turned off the machine, but already half the bag had been spewed in various directions into the Daycare. Dropping the tube, you cradled your face in your hands.

Moon had laughed at you, and let you make such a mistake.

What a bully.

Taking a deep breath, trying to compose yourself, you knit your brow. “That wasn’t nice,” you called, trying to keep your voice steady as you started across the Daycare to retrieve the wayward balls. “What if a kid steps on one of these and slips and falls?”

There was no reply.

“I don’t even know how many of them I lost,” you lament as you gathered a few in your arms, rolling them back toward the pit. Getting on your hands and knees, you reached under the jungle gym and slid another couple out. “If someone gets hurt, it would be your fault, you know.”

As you sat up, you were face-to-face with star-adorned pant legs, and you fell back on your rump with a yelp of surprise. Crouching slowly and leaning into your personal space, Moon’s smile stretched a bit thin, eyes lidded and visibly displeased. “Manners,” he said softly, and you got the distinct sense that he did not mean it kindly.

And, eyes widening, you realized all that you had said. You’d called him out for being a jerk, yes, but he was your boss; maybe he wanted you to learn from your mistakes, or any number of things, but the point was that you do not snap at your boss or talk shit to your boss. And you sure as hell don’t imply that your boss would intentionally hurt a child! Hello?! Are you stupid!!

“I– I’m sorry,” you said quickly, shooting to your feet. He stood a bit slower, tilting his head as he watched you. “I was out of line! I promise it won’t happen again.” Did he have the authority to fire you? No, you didn’t think the animatronics would have that kind of executive power– but they could probably tell management that you weren’t a good fit, oh, no. “Sorry,” you repeated, quickly scurrying off to retrieve the balls.

Moon watched you retreat, unmoving, then tilted his head in the other direction.

You had been right. That didn’t mean he would let you get away with talking to him like that.

He had counted the balls as they rolled away, tallying it up, and he was counting them as you rolled them back to the pit.

He wouldn’t let any balls go unaccounted for. That would, as you had said, be a hazard for the children.

Ascending to his place atop the tube, he watched you search for the balls. When you seemed satisfied that you had gotten them all, he let you reach halfway back to the ball pit before saying, “Missed one,” and merely grinned when you froze and looked up at him. He offered no other clarification, only tilted his head, and your shoulders slumped as you turned and trudged off in search of the missing ball.

You eventually found it– lodged underneath one of the tunnels– and by then it was past midnight. He wondered if you would turn up for your morning shift. The thought either way amused him.

Turning the vacuum so that the balls would eject into the pit, you made quick work of the rest of the job, sanitizing the balls and returning them to their rightful place.

Yawning widely, you wiped at your eye, bundling up the vacuum. It had been such a long stretch of silence, you didn’t think twice about leaving the Daycare without saying anything, trudging along the familiar route toward Parts and Service.

… It was not a familiar route. Staring at the hallway intersection, you looked back behind you, then ahead. Had you taken a wrong turn? You were already out of the public area, so all of the walls and such looked the same.

Scratching the back of your head, you doubled back, lugging the vacuum along with you. There were posters along the walls, and you thought you recognized them, but suddenly you were facing an unfamiliar door that was not the elevator down to Parts and Service, and you drooped. You should have brought your map. You’d gotten cocky.

Now you couldn’t even find your way back to the Daycare to get your map, and you wandered around the back hallways aimlessly. What time was it now? You had a shift the next day, and you were going to be exhausted. You’d probably be sustaining solely off energy drinks for the whole day, and that was a great example to set for the kids. Maybe you could hide it in a thermos and claim it was tea. (Liar, liar.)

Ting.

Blinking slowly, you listened to the distinct sound of a cymbal clash echo down the hall. Setting the tube down, you started carefully forward, peering around the corner.

A small form stood in the center of the hall up ahead– small as in smaller than a bread box, nineteen questions left. It had multiple little legs, which made it very buglike, but it was immediately apparent that the creature was an animatronic.

Stepping around the corner, you moved forward. Its legs skittered and it turned around, craning its body back to look up at you. A little top hat sat upon its head, and that was about all the detail you could make out; it was filthy, dirt and grime covering it from head to toe. You could just make out some whites and pinks of its old paint job, but even that was more guesswork. “Hey, little guy,” you cooed softly, crouching down. “What’re you doing back here?”

Its head tilted, and it parted its arms in short, stilted movements– before clanging them together, cymbals echoing down the halls again. You smiled a bit, reaching down, and it recoiled a little. “Oops. Sorry, didn’t mean to spook you.” Withdrawing your hand, you gave it some space.

Looking intrigued by the movement, it leaned closer, head tilted. It looked a little creepy, if you were honest, with its long piano key-like teeth and black reflective eyes, but you had a soft spot for creepy things. Especially buglike creepy things. “You’re a bit of a mess,” you murmured, tilting your head. “If it wasn’t so late I’d offer to clean you up…”

It continued to gaze up at you, arms twitching once but not clanging its cymbal again. “If you’re here tomorrow, I can probably come by on my break and give you a wash,” you offered. “If you want.”

There was silence from the little animatronic, and you smiled wanly to yourself. Maybe it didn’t have the same level of artificial intelligence as the Glamrocks and the Daycare Attendant. That was okay though– you still talked to your microwave like it would respond one day.

Actually, that gave you an idea.

“Hey,” you whispered conspiratorially. “Listen, little buddy. I’m kinda lost. Do you know where I can find Parts and Service? I need to bring this vacuum back there.”

Tilting its head, it seemed to consider this, and you reevaluated your thought on its level of intelligence. Then, clanging its cymbals twice in quick succession, it skittered past your foot. “Oh! Wait up!” Standing, you followed after it. It turned the corner you had come from, and you quickly gathered up the vacuum, hastening after the tiny animatronic.

It seemed to lead you through the maze with certainty, though none of this looked familiar to you. Just as doubt was beginning to set in, you turned a corner and immediately recognized the elevator that had led you down to Parts and Service. “Oh!!” Gasping, you nearly jumped for joy. “Little buddy! Thank you!” Crouching down, you set the tube aside. “I wish I could thank you properly. I’ll come back tomorrow and we can get you cleaned up, okay?”

Once again, it only looked up at you. Then, looking away, it skittered over to the wall… and scaled straight up the vertical surface, nearly giving you a heart attack. What was with these animatronics and their casual horror movie maneuvers?

It disappeared into the vents, the echoes of its suction cup feet fading, and you stared for another few moments before deciding, Nah. You weren’t going to think about that too much.

Shaking your head, you hefted the vacuum onto the elevator and pushed the button for Parts and Service, riding down. Returning it to where the engineer had pulled it down from, then heading back up, you carefully retraced your steps from your first trip, and were thankfully able to find the public space.

The Daycare was easy enough to find, and you shuffled in with exhaustion dogging at your heels. Moving to the security desk, you gathered all of your stuff, not looking around for Moon.

He still found you. “Get lost?” he wondered aloud, and this time when you looked up, he was floating above you, attached to a cable that descended from the ceiling.

Compared to Sun– and most people, you thought– Moon was a bot of very few words. “Yes,” you admit wearily, tucking your file under your arm. “Got some help though.” Moon tilted his head, rotating on his cable until he was looking at you upside-down, but didn’t ask. “Goodnight, Moon. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Briiight and eeearly,” he responded, and when you looked up, his grin was stretched wide and his eyes were curved into crescent moons.

… Moon was a bully. Good to know.

You closed the Daycare doors behind you, logging onto your phone and clocking out of your shift.

2:24am.

Double-checking your shift for the next day, you confirmed that it started at 9am. By the time you got home and ate something, took a shower, and spent the mandatory hour trying to fall asleep, it would be close to 4am. So you would get about 4 hours of sleep tonight, if you rushed in the morning.

Rubbing your eyes, you pushed your way out into the brisk midnight air, taking a deep breath. There was a slight mist, dewey against your skin, and you relaxed a bit. They had said the doors would lock behind you, but you still double-checked before heading for your car.

Thankfully you didn’t live too far, and you let yourself into your apartment only ten minutes later.

An eruption of purring meows curled through the air from the living room and you smiled drowsily to yourself, toeing off your shoes as Trouser came bounding into the front room. “Ohh, my sweet bumby baby,” you cooed, leaning down and scooping her up. Heaving her whopping sixteen pound heft up into your arms, you nuzzled into her mass of fluff as she began to rumble like a motor boat, snuggling up and welcoming you home. “Big little chumby,” you muffled into her fur, carrying her into the kitchen. Setting her down, you let her weave around your feet, chirping and mewing as you pulled out a half-empty container of wet food from the fridge and plopped it into her bowl.

While she chowed down on that, garbling out grateful meows around each mouthful, you pulled out some leftovers and ate them cold, not bothering to heat them up. Too tired to care.

Feeling exhaustion drag at your eyelids, you shuffled across your apartment and stripped down, leaving the lights off as you climbed into the shower by memory alone. Dark showers were your secret escape, and you spent a bit longer in there than you necessarily needed to– but you wanted to. A bit of self-care after a harrowing first day. You hadn’t gotten to get that celebratory takeout dinner, after all.

Toweling off, brushing your teeth, and slapping on some lotion, you finally dragged yourself into your bedroom and collapsed onto your bed. Fishing your phone out of your pocket, you reached over your head and plopped it onto the bedside table, onto the wireless charger that you’d gotten for Christmas last year. “Hey Foogle,” you mumbled into your pillow, and you heard your phone vibrate. “Set an alarm for 8am.”

“You got it. Your alarm’s set for 8am.”

“Thank you,” you added, knowing it wouldn’t respond unless you said its activation phrase. Still, you didn’t like to be rude.

The bed bounced as Trouser leapt up onto the mattress, and she picked her way across to your side. Circling once, twice, three times, then pausing– and circling a fourth time for good measure, as was her routine, she finally threw herself down in dramatic Trouser fashion, arching up against your ribs and craning her head back to nuzzle at your armpit upside-down.

Taking a slow, deep breath, you turned your head a bit and reached a hand down to bury your fingers into her fur, rubbing slowly. She purred softly, not the same excited rumble from earlier but a gentler tone. Her bedtime purr.

Smiling sleepily, you reflected on the day. There wasn’t much else to do while you waited the long wait for sleep to come.

Maybe you were more exhausted than you thought, because sleep came faster than you anticipated. But when you thought about your first day working for Fazbear Entertainment…

… you had to admit, it had felt like a good day’s work.

You were looking forward to getting even better at it, learning the kids’ names and the guardians’ faces, growing more comfortable in your role and the Daycare itself, getting your keys–

Eyes flying wide open, you shoved yourself up, disturbing Trouser and making her meow indignantly.

You forgot to ask Benjamin about the keys!!!

Throwing yourself down into the bed, you grabbed your pillow and wailed into it.