Chapter Text
Static. Broken voices, echoing, but muffled. Distant laughter. All of it rising in volume, cracking the skulls of all— and none— who heard it. This was all Moon could hear; the screams of his other half through the darkness behind his eyes, the sensation of falling, the whipping of wind he couldn't feel.
The louder it got, the more surreal his surroundings felt against his processors, until everything went silent. A pin drop could be heard across the pizzaplex. It was so quiet— unnaturally quiet.
With a rising plink, Moon's eyes opened to the gentle darkness of the daycare. The lights were off, shrouding the place in a comforting shade, and yet, something within that comfort felt... different, somehow.
He forced himself to his feet, wobbling as he made his way to a play area to support himself. Quiet breathing resonated deeply within him as he picked up a toy and looked it over, dust covering his fingertips, which he inspected closer. His fingers shook as a static pushed its way into the forefront of his mind, the quiet breathing turning out to be hyperventilation.
Oh, come on, Moony! I'm sick of trying!
Loud and clear: a familiar, and rather comforting voice.
Answer me already!
"Sun...?" Moon answered aloud, though the silence that followed was deafening. "What’s—"
Moon!!
The voice was suddenly much louder in his head. He could feel relief there, though short lived.
"What's wrong?"
I can hear you! Thank goodness, I can actually hear you!!
His counterpart was still wrapped up in his revelation, leaving Moon even more confused.
"Of course you can?"
He was unnerved by the hysteria buzzing around his mind, most certainly leaking from his twin AI. It was tangible, so intense it was hard to decipher it from his own emotion.
No, I haven't been able to hear you for such a long time.
"What?" He paused to register this. "That's not possible. We were just talking." He was sure of this.
No... no.
No?
"But... I remember…"
Moon, I don't know what's been going on, but I haven't been able to hear you, and every time I come back things have changed.
"Every time you come back?" Moon repeated.
Sun was talking like there’d been a passage of time, but there couldn’t have been. He remembered the conversation they were having right before he switched; comfortably watching from the backseat, listening to Sun's warm thoughts of the children. That was the last thing he remembered. That felt like minutes ago.
Yes. When it started, it was the strangest thing. It was naptime, only— naptime didn't happen. Right when we were supposed to switch over, there was just a blank, and then I woke up again. I couldn't hear you. And I didn't hear you— for the rest of the day. Then, the next morning, I woke up in the lobby.
Moon didn’t remember going to the lobby.
From then on, every time the lights went out, I couldn’t see what you were doing, or hear you, or feel you. I would just wake up somewhere, and be escorted to the daycare. When I was awake, I was just... alone.
“How long has this been happening?” Moon felt like he was falling.
Months. I don't know exactly how many. I only know how much time I've spent active since it started. It could easily be twice as long as I thought.
Months? He'd been gone for months?
It must have been a week or so after it started when... they got rid of naptime. Kids stopped coming to the daycare. Then... they closed it.
“What? Why??"
I don't know! I was hoping you would know. I thought surely, after all this time, you'd have an explanation! Where have you been??
"I don’t know. I don't remember.." He scratched a finger along the edge of his faceplate, his hands feeling restless and eventually gripping both sides of his head firmly. "I don’t know what you’re talking about. I remember watching you get the daycare ready for opening, and... watching you play with the kids… and..."
And that was it. That was the last thing that he’d done, right?
Right?
After stressing over this thought for a while, he felt a light bulb go off in his head. Of course.
This was all a prank.
"I know you enjoy your practical jokes, Sunny, but the merit has worn off."
Something about Sun’s temperament made him wonder if questioning his counterpart was a good idea. Even in his distress, an accusation didn’t feel right. But he didn’t know what else to do. He had no other explanation.
To Sun, it probably just seemed like Moon was being difficult. But this just wasn’t adding up in his head. It was impossible for him to believe that he was just... missing an entire period of time in his memory. If the daycare had gotten shut down, he would have remembered that.
Though, to Moon's dawning horror, he could feel his sibling's frustration and irritation, starkly contrasting his usual disappointment whenever Moon would unravel one of his plots, and he realized his brother was telling the truth.
It's not a JOKE! I'm telling you it's been months! Look around!!
Moon complied, letting his gaze scan the entire daycare, and feeling a sinking sensation mingling with the already existing dread as he started to come to terms with what was in front of him. Not even including the several minutes he'd already had to take in his surroundings, the sight was no less unfamiliar.
Sun was right.
What he was seeing was nothing like he remembered it. It was so wrong.
The mats for naptime were gone, there were generators hooked up to the play structures, everything had a run-down look to it, everything had a layer of dust that indicated a lack of attention. Except weirdly, the tables and chairs and toy boxes were arranged neatly, like they were the only thing being maintained.
Like there hadn't been any children to knock them down or move them.
It felt like he was dreaming, and he could blink and everything would look normal again.
His statue gaze became solemn.
“It’s... really closed?” His voice echoed in the still air, playing back to him in a cold, uncaring way.
He didn’t want to believe it. He couldn’t believe it.
Yes.
No.
“So... the kids...”
Moon, no one has been here in months. It’s just been... me. They’re not... coming back.
He would have staggered, if he was capable. His frame kept him in place. Instead, he felt like the world was spinning around him. Dizzying. Overwhelming.
It kept spinning, until his counterpart wrapped his presence around Moon’s mind, and held him steady.
"Sun.. something is wrong."
Something was very wrong.
He stayed still until the dizzy feeling began to subside, and, slowly recovering, started to wander around the empty daycare, forcing himself to keep moving. As he did, he tuned in to Sun's presence.
"Tell me everything that you know."
I... don't know much. Sun responded, almost instantly. Moon paced back and forth as his twin AI continued. I know that you were moving around, because of the places I’d wake up. I thought that— that you were doing it on purpose, and you knew what was going on, but had just... inexplicably decided to shut me out. I'm both relieved— and worried— that that's not the case.
"Yes... that's... distressing." Moon came to stand at the base of one of the play structures, lifting his gaze to look at the inactive light hooked up to its side.
Sun didn't push any thoughts in Moon's direction for several moments, and the lunar animatronic gauged that his counterpart was virtually twiddling his thumbs. A nervous tick, even when he wasn't the one in control of their body.
"Tell me more about the changes," Moon prompted, when his twin remained silent.
Oh, yes. Well, I started noticing the staff looking at me funny, and the kids became frightened of me. There was nothing I could do to console the little ones; they would just run, or cry.
"Hmmm.." A thought occurred to him. He didn’t like it. "Was there... any particular time this happened?"
Usually in the afternoon.
"So... after naptime?"
Both of them exchanged silent glances in their shared headspace.
Oh, Moony.
"You don't think.. I did something, do you?"
Sun could sense the guilt Moon was feeling, and Moon could feel Sun try to pry him away from it.
No, never. You'd never do anything to hurt the children.
"But you do think that... I was doing something, right? If I don't remember it... did they wipe my memory??"
I don't know.
Neither of them had the answers. They floundered idly, sharing worried, confused silence, drifting in their loss.
But this wasn’t productive. Moon was the one to finally snap them out of it. He could at least try to be helpful.
“Do you want some help cleaning up the daycare?”
The response from Sun was a wave of sadness.
Ah, right. Daycare closed down. No kids to have it clean for. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to get used to that.
“...Sorry.”
It’s okay. At least I have you now.
The assertion was so honest and sincere.
It made Moon feel a touch of warmth. And a tad guilty that Sun had been alone for so long, when it felt like no time had passed for him.
Mostly guilt, actually.
He didn’t remember being gone. All he remembered was when things were normal.
He felt like he’d miss Sun, though, if he’d actually experienced that time gap. Rather than just being catapulted into a reality he didn’t feel was real.
No point dwelling on it, he supposed.
With Sun having no need for his help, and Moon having no duties that he was aware of, he retreated to the highest point of one of the play structures, settling down atop it as his cable retreated.
There was no cheery music overhead, there was no gleeful laughter, there was no life here.
They sat, and watched the time go by.
Or, they did.
They would have, if they hadn’t heard the sound of a mechanical door opening, and the soft echo of footsteps somewhere on the second level, entering the daycare lobby.
Someone was here.
