Live a Little Less
Eclipse wasn’t feeling great today, but that didn’t stop him from being a nuisance. In fact, some would argue that it made him worse. But voicing it would make him downright irritable, and everyone knew better than to test those limits.
So, they tiptoed around him like he was a cryptid, or some sort of other beastly creature that was five seconds away from snapping. Eclipse didn’t mind. He liked his space.
Or, at least, that’s what he told himself.
Even if he frowned when Rays flinched away from him.
Even if he stopped mid-retort when Moon excused himself prematurely.
Even if he wanted to call out after Sun when he spent more time avoiding him.
Even if he felt a pang of sadness when Lunar declined watching a movie with him.
The only ones who hadn’t distanced themselves was Blood Moon. They stayed rooted at his side throughout his highs and lows, fetching a heating pad for when Eclipse’s temperature dropped, bundling him up in blankets when he was overwhelmed.
And Eclipse was grateful.
He just didn’t know how to show it.
Usually, all he could offer in response was a small “thank you” or “how’d you know” before settling back down into silence. But he would scoot over on the bed when Blood Moon approached, or made room for them by his feet when they felt particularly animalistic.
It was a silent, mutual agreement, in some ways.
Blood Moon cared for Eclipse when he was struggling, and Eclipse accommodated for their feral tendencies without complaint or judgement.
But today was not one of those days. In fact, it wasn’t day at all. It was night, and Blood Moon wasn’t here to coddle Eclipse in the ways he needed right now. It was hunting night, and Eclipse couldn’t bring himself to ruin that for them by giving some pitiful display of discomfort.
Instead, he dragged himself to unsteady feet and staggered to the doorway of his room. The world spun, a sharp pain lancing through the soldered plating on his chest as he clutched the door frame with desperate force. His claws dug into the wood, splintering it and leaving gouges where he held himself upright.
He didn’t even know what he was doing, really. He should turn around and lay back down. It would be easier and less strenuous.
Instead, he glances to the side, towards the cane that leans innocently against his bed frame.
With one hand still gripping the door frame for balance, Eclipse reaches out towards the tool - yes, it’s a tool, not a submission - and grabs it with his free hand.
He mutters something under his breath that even he can’t decipher, adjusting the strap mindlessly with lightly trembling claws. Once he has it in the most comfortable position, he slides his hand into place on the handle and pushes himself off the door frame, leaning heavily against the cane.
He’s not exactly happy about admitting his need for assistance, but it’s better than collapsing on the floor.
Grumbling quietly to himself as he goes, he enters the daycare’s backstage area - the “family room,” as Sun has insisted on calling it - and listens for the telltale sign of shuffling or muttering from Moon’s alcove. Sun is asleep on the couch, as usual, while Lunar and Rays are situated in a blanket fort they made earlier that day in the corner beside the ladder. That leaves only the possibility of Moon hearing him.
But it seems the night-themed animatronic has either already gone to sleep, or is tinkering elsewhere. The latter is more likely. Eclipse doesn’t dwell, carefully making his way to the door, trying to keep the sound of his cane as quiet as possible as he staggers across the room.
The hallway feels longer than usual. From the moment the door opens to the final step he takes to turn the corner into the theater, he’s struggling against unseen forces.
What am I doing? This is a terrible idea.
Eclipse wonders why he even has a processor if he doesn’t listen to it most of the time. His thoughts are suggestions, despite how right they are. He continues forwards.
I should be in bed.
But…
The light from the overhead projector casts a shadow over his head, covering the stage and screen with eerie white light. There’s nothing played this late at night, which leaves the room silent aside from the faint hum the projector emanates, even in standby.
Eclipse passes the stage without care, barely sparing it a glance as he makes his way towards the stairs. Once he finds himself at the base of the first step, he realizes, once again, the stupidity of his actions.
How the fuck am I supposed to get up the stairs like this?
His mouth thins into a grim line, taking in the steps as if they’re a mountain that no climber has managed to conquer. Maybe he should just turn around. Go back to bed, lay there miserably and contemplate how he ended up here in the first place. Sulk until the pain and dizziness goes away.
His expression turns sour.
I’m Eclipse. I have the damn Star in my chest. I don’t pout. I adapt.
Despite his better judgement, he shifts his cane onto the first step, his hand finding the wall for balance.
Each step is nauseating. He feels the Star stutter in his chest each time he strains himself, giving him warnings that he refuses to listen to. Weakness crawls up his limbs, and he’s reminded of darker days spent crawling across floors under scrutinizing eyes, wondering if he’ll ever be repaired - wondering if he wants that chance, or if he’d rather just fade away with all his wrongdoings.
He’s reminded of the cold. The chill, settling into every crevasse and component in his body. A profound frost that no blanket could ease or dispel.
He shivers, despite himself.
He should’ve brought a heating pad.
By the time he’s at the top of the staircase, he can barely keep himself upright. His legs tremble beneath him, struggling to support his weight. But he drags himself along anyways, stumbling across the platform, towards the door hidden behind a neatly stacked pile of crates.
He shakily pries the heavy metal door open and slips into the hallway beyond.
His sight - what little of it he has left - is spinning. His free hand comes up, claws pressing against the fabric over the scarring on his chest.
This is bad. Really bad.
Come on. Just a little further.
He’s about halfway down the hall before the door at the end creaks open. His hand is still pressed to his chest, and he’s leaning on his cane more heavily than he ever expected to. He must be quite the pathetic sight.
Vibrant red eyes glint from down the corridor, staring at him intensely. He can feel them, scanning him. Looking him over like a specimen under a microscope. Normally, that would unnerve him.
But, right now, he doesn’t have the energy to care.
Heavy footsteps begin to approach. The long claws along the edge of the door slide away as their owner moves, allowing the door to slip shut once more.
“Eclipse.” A raspy voice greets him curtly, stopping just a few feet ahead of him.
Eclipse offers a shaky smile. “Hey, Dad.”
Normally, he’d beat around the bush. Call his father a nickname, tease him like a rambunctious teenager. Instead, he greets him without formalities.
He’s so tired.
Kill Code steps closer, looking his son over once more. This time, the eyes bearing down on him aren’t there to test him. They’re assessing. Trying to figure out what’s going on.
“What are you doing?”
It seems he isn’t able to figure out the answer by simply observing this time around, because he’s asking the question after only a few moments of tense silence.
Eclipse’s grin sharpens sardonically. He tries to gather the strength to put on his old front, to play games like he always has. It only serves to exhaust him more. He never imagined that being himself could be so…tiring.
“What does it look like?” He rasps dryly, tilting his head the slightest bit.
Kill Code eyes him wearily. “Staggering around like a baby giraffe still trying to figure out how legs work.”
Eclipse cracks out a broken laugh, but it quickly dissolves into something else. Soft, choked sobs. His claws curl more desperately into the front of his vest, optic wide and angled towards the floor, yet not focusing enough to truly see anything.
“I guess it does look like that, huh?” He croaks miserably, still trying to inject his signature sass into his words despite the tears trailing down his faceplate.
Eclipse doesn’t understand this. Doesn’t understand how any of this works. This vulnerability, this instinctive trust he has towards his father despite all the ways Kill Code has failed him. The way he bends and breaks so easily around him, like it’s second nature to open up and allow the older animatronic to see what the world has done to him.
He doesn’t get it. He’s allowing himself to be hurt again and again by Kill Code. He’s asking for it, at this point.
But he can’t convince himself to stop, either. No matter how much it hurts. No matter how many times he’s pushed away or disregarded.
He can’t-
Suddenly, there’s a hand on his shoulder. He flinches, but it doesn’t put any distance between them.
“Are you alright?”
The low rumble of Kill Code’s voice surprises Eclipse. He sounds far gentler than he expected. Not exactly worried, but…concerned. Attentive.
Eclipse’s chest is seized by another sob.
“E-Everything hurts.“ He chokes out miserably, like a cat having just been dunked into ice-cold water.
Kill Code frowns. His hand slides down from his son’s shoulder, instead resting against his upper arm, running his claws gently along the fabric there in a soothing motion. Light pressure, not enough to hurt, but enough to ground.
“What happened? Are you injured?” Kill Code asks evenly.
Eclipse shakes his head. He doesn’t have the words to describe what he’s feeling. Other than simply…unwell. But he’s not physically wounded. At least…not anymore.
His claws tighten again in the front of his vest. He feels the uneven plating hidden beneath his clothes. It burns.
“Then…what’s the problem?” Kill Code asks with slight hesitance, seemingly running over theories to himself already.
Oh, but none of them even start to compare to the truth…
And he doesn’t quite know how to explain the truth, either. Mostly because…he’s not sure what the truth is. That day is hazy. All he knows is that he’s supposed to be dead, but the Neuton Star decided otherwise and is now situated in his chest.
“Can I just…stay with you for a bit? I can’t sleep. I want to be…close. To someone. Just for a little while.” Eclipse says instead. He lifts his gaze just enough to meet his father’s own, noticing how troubled he looks beneath the shell of indifference he wears like a suit of armor.
After a few moments of hesitation, Kill Code nods.
He moves a bit closer, leaning down and picking his son up under the arms with a surprising amount of care. Eclipse opens his mouth to complain, but the moment the pressure of standing releases from his joints, he relaxes. His head falls against Kill Code’s chest with a dull thud, the tension leaking out of his body like a wind up toy slowly losing momentum.
Kill Code shifts Eclipse in his arms carefully, retrieving his son’s cane with his other hand. Then, he carries Eclipse into the darkness, disappearing beyond the metal door once again.
-
Eclipse is set down on a mattress that is situated against the wall, covered in raggedy blankets and old, faded sheets. It all smells like laundry detergent and lavender, though, so it must be clean. He settles back into the linens carefully, wincing occasionally as he organizes the blankets in a way that suits his needs. Kill Code watches him for a moment before leaning the cane against the wall beside the mattress and returning to a desk nearby littered with numerous small mechanical objects and hastily written notes.
Eclipse glances up at him. His gaze darts to his cane, then back to his father.
“What’re you doing?” He asks quietly.
Kill Code pauses. “Tinkering.”
“What’re you tinkering with?”
“An idea.”
“What idea?”
Kill Code’s voice lowers in warning. “Eclipse.”
Eclipse looks away. “Okay. Got it. Sorry.” He mutters.
“Good. Now sit and be quiet.”
Silence follows. Eclipse fidgets with the hem of one of the blankets draped over his legs, silently sulking to himself as the sounds of Kill Code continuing his work echo from behind him.
It takes only a few minutes for him to get over himself and make more inquiries.
“Is this a new idea?” He asks cautiously.
Kill Code huffs. “No. Not exactly.”
“What do you mean ‘not exactly?’”
“I’ve had the plans for a while, but I just got the parts recently.”
“How long do you think it’ll take?”
“A couple weeks. Maybe more.”
“What is it?”
“Useful.”
“Useful how?”
“Eclipse.” This time, the warning comes out as a low growl.
Eclipse falls silent. He blinks. Once. Twice. Three times.
“Can you come here?”
Kill Code pauses, glancing over his shoulder at his son. “Why?”
“Please?”
“Give me a good reason.”
“Because I’m asking nicely.”
“Not a good reason.”
“It is a good reason.”
“It’s not.”
“It is.”
“It’s not.”
“It is.”
“Boy, I swear to god-“ Kill Code snaps, slamming his tools down onto the workbench in frustration. Eclipse flinches back, pressing himself against the wall even as another spike of pain flares up through his chest.
He doesn’t wince, but his breathing falters momentarily.
“You can be insufferable sometimes.” Kill Code snaps impatiently, turning to glance over his shoulder at his son with a scowl set on his face.
Eclipse’s own mouth twists into a mocking grin, trying to hide the visceral fear that hides beneath. “Love you too, Dad.”
That…seems to do something. The anger fades from Kill Code’s face, replaced with a hollow look that unnerves Eclipse more than the rage did. The older animatronic glances away, down at the project that sits on the desk in front of him. Then, his gaze trails back towards his son.
With a sigh, he stands up, nudging the chair aside and making his way back towards Eclipse. He kneels down within his son’s reach, but doesn’t attempt to touch him on his own.
“What’s up?” He asks.
Eclipse stares at him silently for a moment. Then, his voice lowers into a sheepish, almost embarrassed murmur.
“I just…wanted a hug…”
Kill Code’s eyes soften. “You could’ve just said that.”
Eclipse looks away again, a sneer crossing his face. “Oh, yeah, because you’re the most huggable person ever.”
“I can be if you need me to.”
Eclipse freezes. He looks back towards his father slowly, meeting his eyes doubtfully.
“You’ve…never offered that before. At least…not in a long time.”
Kill Code carefully sits down in front of his son, tucking his long legs underneath himself in a neat manner. Then, without missing a beat, he opens his arms.
“I’m offering it now.”
And, without missing a beat, Eclipse takes his offer.
-
Hello everyone! It’s been a while since I wrote something for this series! However, I’ve recently become infatuated with The Sillies™️ again due to the release of SOTM, which led me here. I’ve really missed writing Eclipse and Kill Code especially, so I thought I’d cook something up for them as a way to find my flow again.
This is one of those chronically miserable days for Eclipse. This is what the badder days are like, though it can get a bit worse than this in different ways that may be explored later if you’d all like to see it! Long story short, everyone and their mother avoids Eclipse when he’s having a bad day which is both bad and good in numerous ways. He needs some Dad Time™️ to help ward off some of the worst parts of being chronically ill: loneliness. At least, that’s my experience! It’s different for everyone :)
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CONDONE GOING BACK TO PEOPLE WHO HAVE PREVIOUSLY HURT YOU FOR COMFORT. THIS CAN BE HARMFUL AND SELF-DESTRUCTIVE, WHICH ECLIPSE IS SHOWN TO REALIZE.