Work Text:
You'd been working at the pizza Plex for a while now, just coming up on 4 months.
It wasn't an awful job, not really, it paid well and you co-workers (could you really call them co-workers? their roles here were so different to yours) were for the most part nice.
Sun was your first friend there, and really how could it have gone any other way? From the moment you two met he was determined (maybe a little overzealous) but it didn't take you long to warm up to him. His energy was just contagious.
Freddy was obviously perfectly amiable from the start, still, it took you two a little while to get over that initial acquaintanceship and down to a genuine friendship. Honestly, he was just so busy it was hard to get more than two words in at a time. As time passed though, you began to understand the clockwork of this place a little better, and you and Freddy managed to find time to talk.
Moon was an interesting one, that was for sure. He still wasn't sanctioned for naptime duties just yet, but it wouldn't be long now, you we're sure of that. Your first meeting had come somewhat as a surprise, to both of you. It went... well, it certainly went. But you two found your footing eventually, and now you couldn't imagine any kind of late-night maintenance work without the accompaniment of the late night talks you two shared.
The others you weren't quite as close to, and honestly Monty could still be kinda standoffish at times, but you were nearer friends than co-workers it seemed. At least that's how most of your interactions played out.
No, it was a good job, they were good friends. Sure, the hours could be strange, but it's not like you had any sleep schedule to mess up in the first place. You were fine, you should be fine, you had no right not to be.
And yet, here you were again. Sat on the floor of the bathroom you'd excused yourself to just a few minutes ago. The place was shut now. It was around 2am, so the lights were dimmed; you hadn't bothered to hide yourself away in one of the stalls. After all, it was highly unlikely anyone would follow you in here. So here you were, the broken skin of your thigh staring accusingly back up at you as the weight of the exacto-knife clutched in your hand suddenly became real.
You pulled the blade across your skin again, before you could think about what you'd done too much. Feelings of relief; reprise battling with the heavy weight now growing in your skull.
It was all becoming real so quick.
You brought the blade back to your thigh, just below the last two cuts, beginning to bead with blood, and you pressed in again. This time with more push. Frustration and shame and pain and grief burned at your chest almost nauseatingly. Pressure at your eyes from the weight in your head threatened to pull you through the fucking ground if you didn't dissolve on the spot from all the *acidity* inside of you.
And so, you did it again, if only to get some of the poison outside of you.
You looked down, the sudden reality of where you were; what you'd done crashing into you with all the momentum it had gathered as you'd been trying to hold it back. Like an elastic band, pulled taught, further and further, until it was eventually released. Pinging back into you with a notable sharpness now. The blade handle tightened in your grip as you all but folded over yourself, reeling.
What were you doing here? This was so, so *stupid*. This was your place of fucking work! You had no fucking supplies to deal with this. You'd been gone so long Moon was probably going to question you. This was such a fucking mess; you were such a fucking mess!
Had you thought any of this through? The blade had just been so goddamn there, and you could swear you had felt your skin aching. How had you let yourself do this? You'd been clean for over 200 days now, the longest streak you’d bothered to count.
You and Moon had just been hanging out and working together, on one of many tasks the animatronic staff bots weren't built for and the more sophisticated animatronics weren't expected to complete, not that moon seemed to pay any mind to that.
You'd excused yourself so quickly you worried he might've thought you were ill or something. God, you really hope you'd been as discreet as you'd thought about the knife... it wasn't even clean, was it?
Great, you really were a fucking idiot weren't you.
You drew your legs up to your chest and wrapped your arms around your bare knees.
And honestly, wasn't that just pathetically hysterical? You probably wouldn't even be here right now if you'd worn jeans or trousers rather than shorts today.
That's when you heard it. Your final shreds of dignity making cartoon death noises somewhere in the back of your head as the door had the audacity to creak, and a familiar red glow peeked through the gap. Of course you hadn't rolled your shorts down yet, because why on earth would you have been even vaguely discreet about this?!
When this was over, you were going to throw yourself at a wall. Maybe it'd reboot your clearly absent braincells.
You felt pale, and like, weirdly sweaty. And cold.
A shiver overtook you as reality once again decided to acquaint itself very personally with your racing heart and twisting stomach. Was there even any point in trying to play this off? Probably not, you'd been caught pretty definitively, but by god were you going to try.
You just hoped you wouldn't lose your job over this.
"...Friend?" the door creaked open wider, leaving all 8/9?? ft of robo-jester to stand there dumbstruck. His eyes wide as he seemed to scan over the scene in front of him.
You stayed silent, eyes glued to the floor in front of you as you tried to get your body, or mind for that matter, to cooperate.
You saw the night themed animatronic start at something as his eyes bored into your side; your right arm curled tighter around you.
He made his way over to you, cautiously. Footsteps light as always; motions fluid. He then slunk down next to you, joining you on the floor for this little pity party you seemed to be throwing.
Pathetic.
A hand moved towards you; you didn't know whether to shrink from it or meet it halfway. You ended up doing nothing. The hand gently, always gently, pried the weapon from the death grip you'd had on it. You didn't resist.
Bringing your hand palm up to catch the light you could see the indents pressed firmly in, almost like a bruise. For some reason that's what got you.
The pressure in your head; your chest, finally gave way and you were falling...
and you were being pulled in by cushioned arms as you broke down.
Tears soaked into soft fabric as you brain just unraveled.
"You’re okay. I've got you, it's okay."
Strings of comfort and reassurance floated somewhere to the side of your consciousness as you floated somewhere else entirely.
You’re not sure how long the two of you stayed like that. As you found yourself returning to your body the first thing you noted was that you’d gotten blood on your friend’s uniform. You'd definitely gotten tears and snot on it. He hadn't pushed you away though yet; you supposed being a daycare attendant prepared one for these kinds of hazards.
Still, even if he didn't seem bothered, you could hardly breathe. You began to pull away, set on 'borrowing' some toilet paper from the stall to the right of you, to blow you nose on.
"Starlight? You back with us?" his tone was tender, if a little gravely and unsure.
You hesitated to respond, but eventually (face angled pointedly away) you decide the silence was undeserved on his part. You owed some answers.
You definitely needed to blow your nose first though. You felt gross, and you weren’t particularly confident on your ability to speak through all the ick.
You shuffled awkwardly into the stall, where you attempted to clean yourself up as best you could with what you had before making your way back out to stand stilted against the door frame of the stall.
He was still looking up at you, patiently waiting for you to collect yourself. Unsure of what to say you land on a raspy "Yeah."
"Friend, I don't… why?" It didn't sound accusatory, more concerned; if you didn't know any better, you'd say he sounded almost afraid.
You just shrug in response.
"Can I... can we...help?"
You couldn't imagine Sunny seeing you like this; seeing... this.
It was too late for that though, wasn't it? He'd already seen.
Moon was eyeing the dried blood smeared on your left leg, just below where your fist scrunched up the fabric of your shorts nervously.
You knew what he was asking.
"Okay." Is all you managed to choke out. It didn’t sound an awful lot like an 'okay', but you hoped it sounded affirmative enough.
It's funny, you wouldn't think you'd have any tears left in you; yet that familiar stinging pressure lingered stubbornly at your eyes.
Moon rose back to his full height, and not for the first time you were reminded of what a wonderful caretaker he must've been; that that was his purpose, after all.
He took your hand in his, and you exited the bathroom together.