Snip! Here's a nightmarish bit, Sun’s Nightmare
Preface: I may or may not have gotten inspired by that one piece with Fern consoling Sun after a nightmare, and I ended up making this whole thing, this one actually went through a few drafts, mainly for the nightmare sequence because it started off so much more morbid, I am sooooo evil, also I am sorry that you’re not feeling well…This might be in terrible taste...Um...Sorry about that, either way I hope you enjoy, get well soon!
TW: Nightmare sequence, hospitals, descriptions of illness, panic/anxiety attacks
“Why, hello Ms. Shepard! It’s been a while!” Sun chimed. It was near the end of a particularly busy day, and there was practically a horde of parents standing at the Daycare entrance, hustling to take their children home to beat the inevitable rush-hour. Sun, Moon, and Fern were absolutely swamped trying to keep track of everyone as children ran rampant, some darting through the crowd to their parents without checking out at the security desk, while others b-lined away from the crowd in a stubborn effort to keep playing -- warranting Sun or Moon to chase after them in return. Sun had almost missed the familiar face of Ms. Shepard in the crowd, but bounced over with excited vigor when he realized it was her.
“Oh, haha, hello Sunnydrop. I see you’ve still got a spring in your step,” she said with a smile, one hand firmly grasping the strap of her worn leather purse while the other waved to him as he approached. “How’s my little boy?”
“Oh, Asher had a fantastic time Ms. Shepard! He’s always so nice to the other kids. We missed having him here at the Daycare!” It was quite subtle -- imperceptible if he hadn’t known Ms. Shepard as well as he did -- but Ms. Shepard flinched a little at his statement, which he regarded with internal, unvoiced concern.
“That’s great…” Ms. Shepard said, her speech stalling as she was clearly in-thought. “By the way, were there any sick kids here today? I…I know I’m not supposed to ask that sort of thing, but-”
“O-Oh no Ms. Shepard! Everyone was fit as a fiddle! We didn’t have a child throw up even once!” Sun cheered, playing up the antics to try and placate the unease he had picked up from Ms. Shepard.
“That’s a relief.” She gave him a small smile. Her words, however, prompted his curiosity, yet she interrupted him before he could even open his mouth to speak. “Where is he, by the way?”
“Ah, right. Asher!!! Aaaaaaaasher!!!” Sun yelled, cupping one of his hands to the side of his mouth. A distant ‘coooooooooooming!’ sounded from across the Daycare as a little boy ran from the other end. He ran straight up to Sun, tackling his poofy legs in a hug, prompting both Sun and Ms. Shepard to laugh. “Haha, there you are. Your mom’s here now to take you home.”
Asher looked up, his joyous smile morphing into an adorably sour pout. He buried his face in the fabric of Sun’s fluffy jester pants, a low ‘Nooooooooo…’ droning from within the cloth. Sun laughed as he patted the fuzzy hair on the kid’s head. “Aw, it’s alright. You’ll see me again, but it’s time for you to go home.”
“Mph! I’m tired of home. I wanna stay with you!” Asher protested, tiny fists clenching around the fabric like his life depended on it as he stamped his feet. “Can I stay longer mama? I’m not sick anymore!”
Sun froze, eyes going wide as those last words processed. Ms. Shepard spoke up before he moved, hands on her hips disapprovingly, but wearing a soft expression. “Now, young man. What did we talk about before we came here?”
Asher looked down, clearly frustrated. “Go home early. Bedtime. No buts.”
“That’s right. Besides, you got to play a lot with Sunnydrop today, right?”
“But I wanna keep playing! I don’t wanna go now! I don’t wanna take the medicine anymore, it’s icky!” Asher began to work himself up into a tantrum, stamping his foot with every statement as if for emphasis. “I miss Sunnydrop!”
“Yes, but you got to see him today. And we’ll come back soon, I promised that too, right?” Ms. Shepard said. She crouched down and reached out her hand towards her son, but he instead gave her hand a spiteful glare before bolting back into the Daycare. “Asher!”
“A-ah! Little star! Come back!” Sun stuttered, finally jogged out of the trance his mind had been stuck in -- all the talk of sickness and medicine threw him. “Moonie! We got another run-away!”
Moon’s head poked out from above the sea of people. As soon as he locked eyes with his brother Sun pointed to Asher, who had already booked it into the play structures to avoid being taken home. Moon gave his brother a thumbs up as he moved through the crowd to grab their little run-away.
“Don’t worry Ms. Shepard, Moonie will get him back here in no-time,” Sun smiled, yet his smile faltered when he saw the tired, almost doleful look on Ms. Shepard’s face. His head tilted to the side, confused and concerned. “Ms. Shepard? Are you alright?”
“Hm? Oh, yes,” Ms. Shepard said, blinking as she snapped to attention. She gave a long, exacerbated sigh. “I’m so sorry about that. He’s been aching to play here again after being sick for so long.”
Sun’s entire body stiffened. There it was again, the mentioning of sickness. He could feel his fans start to whirr louder, processors warming up anxiously, the silicone hairs on his golden tail beginning to raise as deeply unpleasant memories began to surface in his mind. He could barely suppress the nervous stutter that creeped into his voice as he spoke, “S-sick? I-Is that why he hasn’t visited in the past month?”
Ms. Shepard slowly nodded. “He’s still taking medicine for it, but the doctor said he was well enough to start doing normal things again. I promised him I’d take him here once he was better, to see his favorite animatronic.”
She gently tapped his shoulder in-jest, but Sun was still stiffened by her words. He managed to tug his mouth into a smile and he gave a little laugh. “Aha, I-I’m glad…”
She smiled back at him, but it quickly fell once more as she stared ahead, scanning the Daycare with impatient nervousness for Moon and her run-away son. The fact that she -- normally so bubbly and kind -- was so subdued made Sun’s circuits squirm. He eventually worked up the nerve to ask what was plaguing his mind, even if he questioned whether or not it was insensitive to ask. “What…Um…What…Was he sick with? I-If you don’t mind me asking?”
“Pneumonia,” Ms. Shepard remarked in a deadpan way. “One of the real nasty ones. With the uh…”
She squeezed the bridge of her nose, as if the thought pained her, rolling her other hand as she tried to come up with the words. “The antibiotic-resistant thing.”
Sun felt a chill run through his heated circuits. “Th-...That sounds…Bad.”
The grimace Ms. Shepard pulled made him want to slap his hands over his mouth. She pursed her lips -- as if trying to shake off some rising emotions -- and exhaled sharply as she nodded, the clear deep distress she was displaying making his insides writhe. Just then, both caught a glimpse of blue out of their peripheries as Moon approached the two, holding a very upset-looking Asher in his arms. The boy was flicking the bell on Moon’s nightcap in-protest, making Moon smile.
“Here we are little star,” Moon said softly, setting the boy down gently. He leaned over, hands on his hips as the boy looked up at the towering animatronic. “Now, don’t try to run off again, okay? You know I’ll always catch you.”
“...I won’t,” Asher frowned, still obviously upset about leaving but clearly equally ashamed about his outburst. “I’m not a rulebreaker.”
“No, I don’t believe you are,” Moon hummed with a smile. He looked up at Sun and Ms. Shepard, quietly regarding the disquieted air about them both while maintaining a cordial demeanor. “Hello Ms. Shepard, nice to see you again.”
“Hello Moondrop,” Ms. Shepard said with a smile. “Thank you for getting my son.”
“No trouble at all,” he bowed. He cast his gaze down to Asher -- who was still watching him -- giving the boy a reassuring wink. Asher slowly walked over to Sun, fidgeting with his hands before hugging Sun around the leg once more. For a moment, Sun could compartmentalize the existential uneasiness that was choking his thoughts, smiling as he knelt down and hugged the kid back.
“Aw, it was wonderful playing with you again little star,” Sun said. He then hoisted the boy up into his arms and handed him over to his mother, ignoring the tugging feeling from Asher’s half-baked attempts to cling to his neck ruffles. The way that Ms. Shepard held her son made Sun’s composure begin to crack once more -- she used to bounce him on her hip in a jovial way, now she held to him tightly with both arms, securely, almost desperately -- to the point that he almost forgot to speak as Ms. Shepard turned to leave, having said her goodbyes to Moon without Sun noticing. It took a gentle nudge from Moon for Sun to remember to use his words. He stuttered with an overly animated wave, “A-ah! Yes! Goodbye! See you again soon!”
“Bye Sunnydrop,” Asher said solemnly over his mother’s shoulder as she quickly walked out of view. The whole situation left Sun unnerved, and he stood there, suddenly feeling chilled and empty despite being surrounded by a crowd of busy parents. It was like it all was fading away, thoughts consumed by a mortal dread he thought had long since faded, only for that encounter to tear it wide open once more like a sutured wound. Infection, sickness, and death, how quickly one could bleed into the other, how fragile human beings were, how vulnerable they were to them when compared with the animatronics; Sun tried to forget about such morbid thoughts, having stashed them away after everything that had happened with Fern. They were fine now! They had been liberated from their biological mother -- who now rotted in jail for allegations of child abuse -- they had recovered from their malaise, and they had survived being stabbed with mostly just scars to show for it. They were fine, and yet, as much as he tried, these old painful thoughts surfaced from time to time. He tried ignoring them -- the dreaded hypotheticals, the horrifying what-ifs that kept him awake at night -- but sometimes they’d rear their ugly heads any time there was a reminder of what had occurred. It made him squirm inside just thinking about it, like he was now, adrift in thought.
“Hey.” Suddenly, he felt another gentle nudge against his shoulder, and he almost jumped as his focus clapped back into the reality around him. He turned and saw his brother, still standing next to him with his hand on Sun’s arm, clearly concerned but trying his best to mask it in front of the guests that surrounded them. “Fern's entertaining the remaining kids. Why don’t you go help them? I got things here.”
Sun blinked as the statement clicked in his mind. “O-oh. O-okay…Are you sure?”
Moon simply nodded with a gentle, reassuring smile. Sun smiled back -- albeit weakly -- as his nerves died down a little. “Th-thank you Moonie.”
Moon gave his brother a gentle pat on the shoulder as Sun walked past him back into the Daycare, bobbing through the crowd of parents until he saw Fern, quietly entertaining a group of children whose parents had yet to arrive. As he approached, watching Fern smile and gesture as they read from the storybook they held in one hand, he could feel a buzz rising in his circuits. It was a buzz of simultaneous creeping dread and happy jitters, happy that Fern was alive and well, dreading as reminders of what he had been agonizing about bumped up against those happy thoughts. He took his hands into his own, trying to fidget out the turbulent emotions as he stopped short of the small group. Fern looked up at him and offered a warm smile, subtly blushing. Sun smiled back with a sign, temporarily banishing those darker thoughts as he walked up to the group.
“Whatcha doin here friends?” He asked. The whole crowd of children looked up at him, most of them smiling at the sight of the sunny animatronic.
“Mr. Fern’s reading us a story!”
“Is my daddy here yet?”
“Why do you wanna go home?”
“He said we’d get ice cream.”
“I want ice cream…”
“Come sit with us Mr. Sun!” One of the kids pulled on his pant leg, trying to drag him to the ground. Sun smiled, his rays performing a rotation as he listened to them all chatter.
“Okay, okay, scooch over little stars,” he said. They all did, scooting out of the way as he plopped to the ground criss-crossed, facing Fern across the little reading circle. “So, what story is it?”
“It’s the one with the green eggs and the ham!”
“It’s called ‘green eggs and ham’!”
“I know!”
“The guy doesn't look like the show…”
“Do you like green eggs and ham Mr. Sun?”
“Why, I don’t think I’ve never had green eggs and ham,” Sun jested. “What’s it taste like?”
“Green eggs and ham aren't real!”
“Yes they are!”
“No they aren’t!”
“Stars please,” Sun motioned to calm them down, though they seemed to not want to listen. Right then, Fern quietly held up one hand and made a little chomping motion.
“Alligator, alligator,” they said quietly. Immediately all the kids turned, saying ‘chomp chomp!’ as they mimicked the motion, forgetting the angry tension just a few seconds prior. Fern shot Sun a quick glance, the two of them smiling at one another as he continued to read from the book. It was less about reading and more about prompting the kids to come up with their own rhymes -- as Sun quickly learned, and then chimed in on -- as they waited for more parents to file in.
“Mr. Sun, what are those things?”
“Hm? What do you mean little star?” Sun tilted his head, confused. The kid pointed at the page Fern was one, having turned the book around for everyone to see the illustrations.
“That, what is that?”
Sun glanced at the page, and he wasn’t quite sure what he was looking at. He could see Fern trying to restrain a grin as they stared at his perplexed expression, making Sun feel all giddy inside. “I’m not sure! It has stripes, and a long tail, and it’s all furry. What do you all think?”
“It’s a cat!”
“Cat in the hat!”
“It’s not wearing a hat.”
“What do you mean, it’s a tiger!”
“Is it a cat Mr. Sun?”
“Hm, a cat you say?” Sun smiled deviously as he shifted his rays, retracting all but two to give himself cat ears. “You mean like this?”
All the kids started to laugh as he spun his faceplate, the two rays looking like big orange ears that twirled with every rotation. Fern covered their mouth to stifle an uncontrollable, bubbling giggle at Sun’s antics. Sun could only smile wider, face starting to turn tangerine as he continued to amuse the kids around him.
“Haha, Mr. Sun’s a cat!”
“He looks like Garfield.”
“You look like my cat Rusty!”
“You’re c-cat’s name is R-Rusty?” Fern asked softly. The kid turned and nodded with enthusiastic fervor.
“Mhm! Like the book! My big sis lets me read her cat books, the ones with the blood and guts and stuff!”
Sun’s face completely froze mid-rotation as Fern’s hand shot up, trying and failing to quiet a snort. “I-I-I d-don’t think your s-sibling should be l-letting you r-read that.”
“Why not?” Sun and Fern exchanged equally baffled, knowing looks, taking a huge amount of restraint to not burst out laughing at the sheer absurdity.
---
“I can’t believe their sibling let them read those books so young...No offense,” Sun said, shaking his head as he watched the last parent leave, Fern standing at his side.
“I-I l-love Warriors…B-b-but th-they aren’t exactly…K-kid friendly.”
“If their sibling was here I’d give them an earful,” he asserted, crossing his arms as Fern hummed in agreement. The two stood there for a moment before glancing at one another, the eye contact making the two smirk and snort as the silliness of the situation sunk in again. Sun wrapped his arm around Fern’s shoulder as the two quietly laughed to themselves. Sun was jogged out of it when Fern’s laugh was interrupted by a long yawn, watching as Fern covered their mouth, their still-tired eyes slightly watery.
“A-are you tired Starling?” Sun asked, leaning over to inspect their face with a bit more scrutiny than was necessary, the existential anxiousness he had been feeling before beginning to once more creep back into his circuits like a shadow.
“A-a little,” Fern said, temporarily removing his glasses to wipe his eye. “W-we need to clean. M-Moon’s a-already started-”
“Do you feel okay?” Sun asked, placing both hands on Fern’s shoulders and staring them right in the face. The sudden movement and eye contact startled Fern, who blinked and gawked at Sun. Sun caught his own reflection in Fern’s glasses, realizing how intense he was staring at them. He jolted upright -- way too quickly -- as he began to profusely apologize. “A-ah! Sorry Starling! S-sorry! I-I’m sorry. I-I uh…”
“Are you okay Sunny?” Fern tilted his head, staring at Sun, startlement worn off. He was holding the beads of his lanyard in one of his hands, but he wasn’t quite fidgeting with them -- yet. Sun froze for a moment, finding himself caught under unintentional scrutiny.
“O-oh I’m fine Starling! Perfectly fine!” He said with a wave, trying to hide his anxiousness. “J-just a bit fried from today, so many people!”
Fern nodded in agreement, seemingly -- at least partially -- convinced. They glanced back over at Moon, who was striding across the Daycare with an armful of plushies. Fern started to walk towards him when they felt a hand, much more gentle this time, grab their own. They turned to find Sun staring at them again, this time with a softer yet no less worried expression. “Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”
Fern stared at him, concerned suspicion clear in the way they looked at Sun. They gave him a humble, reassuring smile as they nodded. “Y-yeah. Y-yeah, I-I feel fine.”
“M-maybe you should rest, t-take a break!” Sun suggested, making slightly jittery gestures. “M-Moonie and I can handle things.”
Fern shook his head. “N-no, I-I feel fine. I w-want to help. I-I’m not just going t-to leave you two with this huge mess.”
“Oh w-we’ve seen worse Starling, so much worse! Cleaned worse!”
“B-but-”
“A-and you already do so much in the Daycare! D-don’t w-want you o-overworking yourself!”
“Sunny-”
“S-so i-if you’re not f-feeling okay, j-just say so! Y-you d-don’t have to worry about a thing, o-or lift a f-finger o-o-or-”
“Sun…” Sun made eye-contact with Fern, going silent when met with the concerned, firm look on Fern’s face. Their lanyard quietly jingled as they fiddled with it. “I-I’m okay. I-I’m not…That tired. I want to help, a-and it’s my job.”
“...S-...Starling…” Sun said it so quietly that if Fern didn’t watch his mouth move, he may not have heard it. As the two looked at one another, it slowly sank in for Fern what might’ve been going on with Sun. The way his shoulders were held tense, how still he was standing, how dimmed the color of his optics were, how there was no blush to his face despite the fact that they were holding hands, how his rays were partially retracted, nevermind his dismayed, pleading expression. If Fern could see behind him he would’ve seen Sun’s tail partially bottle-brushed. Fern bit his lip and thought for a moment, before stepping closer, clasping their other hand over Sun’s in a comforting way.
“I feel okay…I’ll…I-I’ll take a nap a-after we’re done…W-we c-can…Cuddle…I-if you want,” they stuttered. Sun stared at them, eyes wide. “...S-Sound good?”
In his mind, he was mulling over thousands of scenarios, despite how statuesque he was on the outside. Dread, fear, and hope swirled like oil and water, the prospect of being able to actually cuddle with Fern, to be with them and ensure their safety for that night, brought some level of comfort to his tempestuous thoughts. He slowly nodded. “S-...Sounds good, Tulip.”
Fern smiled softly, still concerned, but at least happy that he agreed. Fern began to pull him along by the hand towards Moon, slow and gentle, and Sun followed behind as he tried to simply focus on the tactile feeling of their hand -- warm, soft, and very much alive, as he could feel their pulse -- to soothe his nerves. They started cleaning their own section of the Daycare, Moon continuing to clean his own, but ever-vigilant in watching out for the disturbance he had noticed in his brother earlier. It would be something to talk about later.
---
It took all three of them over an hour to clean the Daycare. It had been that much of a disheveled mess, papers and crafts that required collecting and organizing, nap time blankets to be folded and stored, toys thrown everywhere into impossible places, mystery stains that required a hard scrub, disinfecting every inch of the the play structures -- and ignoring the ball pit because nobody cleans the ball pit, ever -- and otherwise restocking inventory. The entire time, Sun stuck close to Fern, occasionally taking things from their hands he deemed too heavy or cumbersome, even if Fern didn’t think so. Fern simply let him, keeping quiet despite his growing concern over Sun’s flighty actions. Moon watched too, noticing how agitated and yet simultaneously ragged his brother was becoming as the minutes of rigorous cleaning ticked by. By the end of the hour, Sun’s speech began to slur, his movements turning less precise and sluggish. Him tripping over a corner of the padded floor and falling flat on his saucer-like face was what prompted Moon to finally approach his brother.
“S-sun! O-oh my gosh, a-are you alright?!” Fern stuttered, sitting on his knees right beside Sun.
“You good brother?” Moon asked, leaning over Sun’s prone body. Sun lifted his head, though his movements were clearly uncoordinated by how he swayed a little.
“Yeeeeeep! I’m…Fiiiiine,” he said, vowels dragging out. His eye lights were dimmed, betraying his words.
“What’s your battery level?” Moon asked, crossing his arms. Sun thought for a moment -- if he had the power to spare he might’ve spun his faceplate in contemplation -- humming to himself.
“Fifteeeeeeen percent? Give or take,” he shrugged.
“W-what?!” Fern balked.
“When was the last time you charged?” Moon asked, a disquieted tone to his voice.
“Mmmmmm…Not last night…”
“That’s pretty clear.”
“S-sun..?” Fern stuttered. Both the brothers looked at him. He was fidgeting furiously with the lanyard around his neck, distressed and anxious. “W-w-why didn’t you charge?”
“O-oh…I-it’s-...I’m fiiiiiiiiine Starlllling…Weee can stilllll cuuuuddle,” Sun drawled as he rolled onto his back, waving his hands sloppily in the air. “I’ll get my charge in theeeeeeeen.”
“Nope, you’re charging now, before you fall over and break your face on something,” Moon said, effortlessly crouching down and lifting his brother into his arms.
“H-heeeeeey…Th-thaaaaat was one tiiiiime,” Sun spat, half-drunkenly jabbing a finger at Moon. Moon simply rolled his eyes with a half-smile. Fern followed alongside them as Moon walked to the edge of the ball pit.
“You should take your nap now,” Moon said gently, turning to look at Fern.
“Y-y-you s-sure?” Fern asked. Moon simply nodded in response, smiling back at them.
“We’re pretty much done anyways,” he said as he glanced back around the Daycare.
“I-I…I-I s-suppose so…”
“Besides, somebody’s gotta watch sleeping beauty over here,” Moon teased, nodding to Sun.
“I’m stiiiiiiilll awake!” Sun flailed, earning a snort from Fern.
“W-...W-will y-you join us?” Fern asked, fidgeting as their face flushed a warm tint of red.
“...I…I’m afraid not, Nightingale. I have patrol,” Moon said apologetically.
“I-I understand,” Fern said, offering Moon a warm smile, to which he smiled back.
Moon had to make two trips on the wire, the first for carrying his noodly, power-drunk brother into the loft. Sun had already passed out plugged into the charging port by the time Moon hoisted Fern onto the balcony.
“I’ll be back later, sleep well Nightingale,” Moon whispered softly, still hanging from the wire with a hand gently resting in Fern’s curls. Fern leaned against him, placing one of their hands over Moon’s as they blushed.
“Thank you,” Fern said as they leaned in and gave Moon a soft hiss on the nose, causing the animatronic to blush a bright, content blue, silvery tail ringing as it wagged. The two smiled at one another before Moon glided to the floor, the lights shutting off as he walked towards the Daycare’s exit. Fern watched his silhouette disappear against the neon backdrop, before slowly turning into the fairy-lit room. He eyed Sun, propped up against the soft pillows, all but dead to the world. Fern let out a sigh, their worry over Sun’s earlier frantic behavior not forgotten, but for now, they’d just have this. They walked over the cupboard and began pulling out more comfortable clothes to change into.
---
He heard something from behind the Daycare’s massive double door. It was muffled and quiet, a pained-sounding voice coughing and groaning through the false wood. Yet it was unmistakable. It was Fern. He slammed himself against the door, flying through it onto the brightly colored Daycare mats. He looked up, disoriented and confused, vision swimming, only to lock onto a limp body laying on the floor.
Fern.
“FERN?!”
He raced towards their lifeless-looking body, and he cradled them in his arms as he turned them over. The look on Fern’s face made his non-existent blood run ice cold.
Fern looked horrendous, their skin ghostly pale, features thin and gaunt, hair much longer and dirtier than he remembered. Didn’t they cut it? He swore they did, but here it was, long and matted in his hands. They were sweating and flush, deep sickly circles beneath glossy, bloodshot eyes streaked with tears from fever-induced anguish. Their body was entirely slack, more like a sack of flour than a human body. Everything about them felt weak and frail, their breathing, their nye-imperceivable heartbeat that felt like it was growing weaker by the second.
He trembled at the sight. He remembered this. He remembered this moment, holding Fern in his arms, as weak as this. He couldn’t be back here, they had gotten past this. Fern had survived, he knew that!
No, no no no, this can’t be happening.
“F-F-Fern? F-Fern? S-Starling? Can you hear me?” He said, very gently stroking their cheek, as if the slightest pressure would break them. “F-Fern…Tulip…P-please…”
He could feel them, feverish and yet growing cold beneath his hands. Soft breaths turned into feather-light inhalations, heartbeats dimming into murmurs. They were slipping away right in his hands.
No, he can’t lose them, not like this!
“M-Moon! I-I-I need help here!” He shouted. Yet, even the echo that would ring out when people talked in the empty Daycare didn’t sound, he was met with total silence. He glanced around, slow at first, but then his head began to swivel around desperately, frantically. The Daycare was entirely empty, empty of everything, including the toys and blankets. Even the ball pit was empty. The lights were on but produced no color. Everything looked dull, shadows turned harsh and vicious.
“M-Moon? Moon? Moondrop?” More silence.
“MOON? A-a-anybody? H-hello?!” Deafening silence.
“MOON! FREDDY!! CHICA, ROXY, MONTY, DJ, ANYBODY?! CAN ANYBODY HEAR ME?!!!” Suffocating silence. He felt breathless despite not needing to breathe.
“HELP!!! SOMEBODY HELP!!! THEY NEED HELP!!!” He continued to yell, even though it was met with no response. He knew Fern needed a hospital, he needed one now. He didn’t even let himself consider the what ifs, or if the ambulance would even make it in time to get Fern to the help they needed. Right now, he was just concerned with getting somebody’s attention. Anybody’s. That his cries for help would be heard.
“PLEASE, THEY NEED A HOSPITAL! THEY NEED-”
Suddenly, his eyes shot open -- which he had shut while he screamed -- only to find himself in some place he completely didn’t recognize. He wasn’t exactly sure where he was. He’d never seen a place like this, never been to a place like this. The floor was a clean, glossy, white tile, not too dissimilar to that of the plex outside the Daycare. Yet the hallway he found himself in was narrow and plain, with smooth, white walls. The ceiling looked to be made of piles, or some kind of cork material. Every three rows was interrupted by a large, rectangular yellow light, who took up four total tile spaces, continuing on and on into the hall. There were large, thick steel push-doors evenly spaced on either side of the hallway. Some had windows, some didn’t. He turned and glanced down either end, as while he could see T-intersections at either end of the hall, something deep in his circuits told him something was off.
Where was Fern?
He glanced around the hallway, nervously searching for them. Where were they? Why weren’t they in his arms? They were just a second ago, and they were in trouble!
He wasn’t sure where to start, so he just walked. As he walked, he peered into the circular windows on the doors that had them, finding nothing but white light, or what looked to be like more door material behind them. He opened one door just to see what was on the other side, only to be met with a wall.
No sign of Fern.
He continued down the hall, checking all the doors on one side, then turning around and opening all the doors on the other. As he pushed each open, he could feel some strange feeling grow heavier inside him. Anxiousness? Dread? Not quite, it felt similar, but not quite. He was already anxious. Fern was so weak in his arms that he thought they’d break, and now they disappeared. Where were they?!
Door after door after door. Step after step after step on the tile floor. Ring ring ringing of the bells on his feet, wrists, and tail. There was a rhythm to it all, a beat, and it was growing faster. Something about it felt familiar, weirdly familiar. Door step, door step, door step, door step. Anxiousness grew with the pulse.
What was this feeling? It was horrible whatever it was. It felt like fear, like dread, but he couldn’t place what he should’ve been afraid of. It was like…A warning…An omen…
Heart-pounding doom.
Then, he noticed a sound. It was rhythmic, and quiet, but oh so familiar.
Beep-beep. Beep-beep. Beep-beep.
It was then he noticed the glass window next to the final door. He peered in, finding a white room, lit with the same pale lights as the hallway. Seeing the room’s contents made him realize where he had seen a place like this before.
This was a hospital, he was in a hospital. He remembered seeing scenes like this in the movies he’d watch with…
Fern.
Fern was laying there, frail as a withered flower, in the hospital bed. The white sheets barely rose and fell with their weak breathing, the quiet beeping of the monitor displaying how slow their heart had become. He wasn’t familiar with what the different displays meant, but there was a deep, looming feeling that crept through his frame. The displays flashed and blinked, not in the way he had seen in the movies, not unless something was wrong…Everything was wrong.
He glanced around the barren hall, then back to the room, his circuits twisting into knots as he watched the numbers on the display begin to plummet and the waveforms level out. Fern was dying, the machines were blinking with alerts. Why wasn’t anyone coming?!
He turned and shouted, tried to cry for help, and yet no sound came out of his voice box. He froze on the spot, hand slowly traveling to his throat, where the box should be. It wasn’t there.
He looked back to see the numbers falling caster, waveforms crashing harder. Fern was slipping away and he couldn’t even cry for help. He had to be the help. He jumped over to the door to the room and pushed on it, only to find it utterly immovable. His limbs were like lead, joints like jelly, weak and incapable of pushing a pillow much less a giant steel door. He pushed and shoved and banged against it as hard as he could, but it would not move. It would never move.
Sheer, unfettered panic felt like it was choking his processors. He bolted to the window, figuring he could break through it, yet that too was futile. He pounded and pounded, desperate to break the window, to get to Fern, but nothing would give, nothing would respond. No help was coming, not even he could help them. He had to watch as everything began to flatline, the lights at the other end of the hall flicking off one by one as he continued to punch and kick and noiselessly scream. By the time the monitor’s beeping turned into that dreaded, lethal drone, he was bathed in shadow with only the blindingly cold light of the room to illuminate him.
He simply gawked, mouth open, rays completely retracted, optics pale, arms limp and heavy at his sides as he stared into the room. Fern’s form was completely still and pale, almost more like stone than something that was once alive, something that once loved. He couldn’t tear his eyes away even though it stung so badly inside to see Fern lifeless and dead. The monotone blare of the monitor was inescapable.
It was then he noticed a figure standing beside the bed. It was a dark, hooded figure, whose face was entirely obscured. He simply watched as the figure reached out with a cloth-bound hand and gently grabbed the covers of Fern’s bed. The figure slowly drew the covers up until they covered Fern head to toe, and he could only shake his head in pleading disbelief.
He looked up at the figure, begging for this to not be true, begging for this to not be real. This couldn’t be real, they couldn’t be dead. Please don’t let them be dead.
The figure jerked its head up at him, the harrowing, empty-socketed stare of a human skull looking right back at him. It pointed its gaunt hand at him and all light disappeared, drowning him in all-consuming shadow.
---
Fern was sluggishly making their way back to Sun and Moon’s room through the theater hallway -- clad in soft sweatpants, fluffy socks, and a smooth t-shirt they kept in the room for occasions like these -- when he heard a muffled scream accompanied by crashing and clattering. They jumped in their own skin. It reminded them of the one time a dresser at his house fell down in the middle of the night, it was that startlingly loud. He clutched the soft fabric of his brown pajama shirt, fingers twitching as he stared at the door ten feet in front of him. It took his mind a moment to realize what had happened. That crash had come from Sun and Moon’s room, and that scream belonged to Sun.
He gasped at the realization and ran towards the door, anxiety skyrocketing as it slowly slid open. He practically jumped inside as soon as it was open wide enough, only to find themselves in an awful scene. Pillows and blankets had been tossed to the sides, likely kicked out of the way. The fairy lights had not been turned off, otherwise he wouldn’t trip over them upon bursting into the room. Yet what drew his gaze -- and made his heart sink -- was Sun. Sun was sitting on his knees, rattling so visibly and so loudly Fern feared that he might be malfunctioning. His fans were whirring at their highest setting, and clearly struggling by the sound of it. His tail was completely puffed out and stiff, and behind him, the concrete wall looked like it had been scratched. Fern could see that his back loop looked a little tended, and it had cement dust on it. He must’ve thrown himself backwards so hard he smacked the wall. One hand was on the floor, clenched around a pillow so tight the sheer force of his grip had torn the fabric open, and Fern began to wonder if he may have cracked the casing on that hand. The other was covering his throat, twitching violently, scraping against the metal beneath his horror-stricken faceplate. His face is what broke Fern the most. His rays were completely retracted into his head, his mouth agape as if he couldn’t breathe. His eyes were wide, pale, and terrified, tears flooding down his face and dripping to the floor at an alarming rate. Erratic, loud, and strangled sounds came from his voice box. He looked absolutely mortified.
“O-oh my gosh, oh my gosh! Sun!” Fern ran to his side. Sun brought his hands up, looking like he was about to claw at his own face from the stress. As Fern knelt beside him he froze, tear-streaked optics peeking through his hands. He kept his face covered, in a crude, thinly-veiled attempt to hide how messed up he was. Fern gawked at him, unnerved by just how distraught Sun was. They shook their head. “W-w-what h-happened? W-what h-happened, a-are y-you okay? W-what…”
Sun blinked, almost as if before he wasn’t seeing out of his own eyes. He stared at Fern for a moment, achingly slowly pulling his hands away from his face. His voice box let out another burst of distressed noise before he could form proper words. “F-...F-Fer…n…? S-S-...S-tarling…?”
Fern’s mouth hung open, deeply worried about Sun’s state. They had no idea what was causing this, but it was horrible seeing Sun so deeply messed up. “W-What happened?”
“I-I…I-” Sun babbled, words turning into gibberish as they turned into sobs and whines faux hyperventilation. He was spiraling. Fern’s mind raced, trying to figure out what to say, what to do. How could he stop this? What could he do to calm Sun down? Right now he wished more than anything for Moon to be there to help them. They looked back up at Sun, who’s disassociated gaze was locked on the floor, fists clenching the fabric of his pants as tightly as he could as he trembled. Sun flinched as soon as he felt something touch his faceplate. He froze as he looked up. Fern was sitting right in front of him, not beside him as they were, very gently holding the sides of his faceplate with their hands. They both fell silent -- at least as silent as they could be with Sun’s uncontrollable rattling -- Fern watching his every movement as they started moving their thumbs back and forth across the metal of his face in a soothing motion. Sun simply stared back, incapable of speaking, mouth still hanging open as he shook.
“I-I am here……I am here,” Fern whispered, continuing to rub the sides of Sun’s face to calm him down. They brushed the back of their hand against Sun’s left cheek, wiping the river of tears away. Sun simply blinked in response as they did so, though inside his own mind the fact that he could actually feel it -- the warmth and softness of their hands, but most importantly, their pulse -- began to bring him down from the apex of hysteria that was overloading his system. “I’m here……I-I’m not going anywhere…”
Sun’s mouth closed into a deeply pained grimace as more tears fell. “Y-y-you died…”
“W-...What?” Fern gaped, startled.
“Y-you died…A-at the h-hospital…I-I couldn’t save you…” Sun stammered. “I-I’m s-so sorry…I-I c-c-couldn’t save you…”
Fern felt like they’d been punched in the guts with how pained Sun sounded. He continued to cry, tears rolling from his eyes down onto Fern’s hands. Fern shook his head, trying to keep Sun from becoming completely inconsolable. “S-Sun…S-Sunny…I-It’s okay…I-It w-was just a nightmare…I-I’m okay…I’m okay…I-I’m right here.”
Sun just continued making strangled noises, eyes clamped shut, quietly repeating apologize over and over and over as he shook his head. “I-I’m sorry I-I’m s-sorry I’m so s-so sorry S-Starling I’m sorry I’m sorryI’msorry-”
“Sun…Sunny…C-can you look at me? P-please…L-look at me,” Fern asked. Sun forced himself to look up, despite how badly he wanted to just curl in on himself. “M-...May I hug you?”
“...Please…”
Fern cradled Sun’s faceplate against their chest as Sun wrapped his arms around Fern in a desperate hug. Sun continued to rattle and let out crackling sobs as he clung tight to Fern, all the pent up grief and terror crashing down inside him. Fern held onto Sun -- soft yet firm, gentle yet immovable -- acting as his anchor, letting him listen to their heartbeat, feel their warmth, focusing on how alive they were here and now rather than how dead they were in that horrific nightmare. “I-I’m here…I’m here…It was a nightmare…You’re okay…I-I’m okay………I’m here…”
“I-I c-couldn-n’t s-save you,” Sun gritted. “I-I-I w-was a-all alone…N-not s-strong enough-”
“You don’t have to apologize,” Fern assured him, squeezing him a little tighter. “You are strong, I-I think you are…”
“...I-I’m sorry…P-please…D-don’t l-leave…I-I-I c-can’t-”
Fern pressed a soft kiss against Sun’s trembling forehead, whispering, “N-never…”
“...I-I-I l-love you…”
“I love you too Sunny…”
---
When Moon alighted onto the railing of the balcony, he was not expecting to find the room to be as disheveled as it turned out to be. Nothing was where he left it a few hours prior, pillows and blankets tossed around, the charging cord left lying in the middle of the floor. There was also a concerning new scratch on the wall. Yet what caught his gaze was the sight below it. Fern was laying propped up on a pile of pillows, still awake with a miserably tired expression on their face. Sun laid curled against them, faceplate pressed against their side, arms coiled tight around Fern’s torso. Fern was gently rubbing one of Sun’s rays in a soothing motion, not taking their eyes off of the sleeping animatronic. Despite being asleep, Sun did not look peaceful, as evident by the wet marks on his faceplate and on Fern’s sleeves and shirt. It took Fern a moment to notice Moon, giving him a sorrowful, knowing look that made Moon’s heart drop. Another bad night, another awful nightmare.
Festered wounds take a long time to heal.
