Chapter Text
The lights were off in the Daycare.
That should have been the first warning sign, but you were used to Sun and Moon’s antics by now. With your budding relationship they hadn’t caused much mischief for you, but you could never know what was truly on their mind. They wanted you to stumble in the dark? Unlikely. You and they both knew the way to the security desk by heart. (Many an exhausted morning had led to your particular vein of knowledge. Hangovers were a bitch.)
With a determined sigh, you stepped foot through the gated doors. The soft soles of your sneakers barely made a sound on the cushioned mats, and only the faintest hint of the daycare theme played over the speakers. Otherwise, though, the daycare was noticeably too quiet. There were no whirrs of the generators, predictable with the status of the lights, but this was still… a single chime sounded nearby.
You could feel the hairs on the back of your neck begin to rise, and you whipped out your phone’s flashlight just in time to catch Moon stalking up to you.
The animatronic’s bright red eyes focused directly on you, the color enhancing his darkened features. His near silent approach was impressive, though unsurprising. As the head of security bots within the plex Moon was equipped with more sound muffling tech than was standard. Right now that wasn’t something you were thrilled about, but he had let you know he was there. At least, you assumed so. There was no way he would have allowed his bells to give him away otherwise. With that thought in mind your posture relaxed. You turned off your flashlight and pocketed your phone, no longer necessary with such bright red lights in close proximity.
“Good evening to you as well Moon. You’re up early.” You commented, cocking your head and crossing your arms with a huff.
“Would have been nice if you’d given me a heads up, big guy,” you said, turning back to your original destination at the security desk.
Unsurprisingly Moon followed close behind you, and you noticed the distinct jingle of his bells with a smile. So he can be polite, you mused. The attendant in question remained silent, processors quietly whirring as he absorbed information around him. If he stayed this silent the whole night, you were in for a very long shift. Sun rarely came out at night, staying in sleep mode to recharge and help Moon process information gained during the day shift. You knew it was tedious work, but on nights like these you could really have used Sun’s bubbly energy.
Whatever. Moon was sweet when he decided to be, and you could make it through one quiet night shift. Probably.
The security desk was organized per usual, though you had no one to thank but yourself for that. In truth you were one of the few employees who would even set foot in the daycare, and you could count on one hand the number of people who made it to the desk. Not a bad thing in this case, since it meant your spot would always be as tidy as you’d last left it. It was…boring though. There was nothing to clean, no new reports (you’d checked twice), and no energetic Sun to hype you up for the next 8 hours. Speaking of the daycare animatronic, Moon had leaned up against the front of the desk. His arms rested back against the table, fingers lightly drumming against the surface. A treat for the eyes, sure. But it did absolutely nothing to alleviate the heavy boredom settling into your bones.
With a groan you let your head fall onto the desk in front of you, the thud echoing through the daycare. Moon regarded you with thinly veiled annoyance, his optics shuttered halfway in imitation of a glare.
“Donnn’t do thatttt.” He hissed, poking your forehead with a single long finger. You made a half-hearted swipe at his retreating arm, grumbling out your disapproval.
“Moony I’m BORED,” you grouched, meeting his equally frustrated gaze. “There’s nothing to do tonight, and I’m only assigned here so I can’t even go for a walk around the plex.” Alright, you were whining. But you deserved to, it was a frustrating shift that you weren’t even supposed to have. Stupid new employees who quit in under a week. Cowards.
You felt more than heard the puff of steam Moon released, his equivalent of a sigh.
“What would you have me do?” The animatronic asked, regarding you with an unamused expression.
“I don’t know. We could…” you thought for a moment, before considering the obvious. “We could always play a game.”
“And what did you have in mind, little bird?” Moon asked, interest bleeding through in his voice. You could work with that.
“Hmmm… what about… hide and seek?” You offered. It was a clean game, easy to start and stop. Plus, the daycare was literally built for it, composed of a labyrinth of tunnels and towers. It could work. Moon seemed to agree if his expression was anything to go by. You could see the same evaluations rolling through his head. As night shift you weren’t supposed to mess up the daycare… but this was safe enough.
“And if I agree, you will stop this,” He gestured to your slumped over posture. “Moping, I take it?”
“At least during our game.” You replied, a cheeky grin betraying your real thoughts. “But you’ll have to make it worth it.” The daycare attendant hesitated for a moment, processors picking up in speed.
“We-we will play, under one conditi-ion.” Moon hissed out, voice box glitching to match the hitches in his fan system. “I make the rules.”
“Deal,” you replied, stretching out a hand to shake on it. Moon reluctantly did, his cool grip gently enveloping your own. He shook your hand once before retracting his.
“First rule: security deskss, our room, and out-outside of the daycare is OFF limits.” He hissed out; red eyes glowing brighter.
“Easy enough.” You said with a grin, stretching as you got up from the security desk chair. You slide out from behind the desk and to his side a moment later, elbowing him lightly. “What else?”
“Do not.” The animatronic leaned close, his form cutting a menacing figure as he towered above you. “Let me catch you.” He purred, one hand reaching out to cup your jaw. He brought your gaze to meet his own, red LEDs bright and his expression alarmingly gleeful.
“Little sparrow.”
And oh this was a different game than what you had planned. Your heart hammered in your chest, reminiscent of the birds they so often compared you to. The hand on your face was light but steeped with intention, and you knew how this would end. You just had to agree, if the robot patiently waiting for your consent, was an indication.
“O-of course. That’s kind of. That’s the point.” You stammered with a nervous laugh. He hummed an affirmative, releasing your cheeks with a gentle squeeze. He turned to face the security desk, covering his face with one huge hand.
“One…two…”
On three you bolted, shaking off your tennis shoes as you ran. You weren’t about to risk them squeaking against some of the equipment, socks would do enough to muffle the sound of your footsteps. You skipped the first three tunnels you passed, hand covering your mouth to muffle your panting breaths.
There. That one.
You lunged into the slide, throwing yourself up the smooth surface as quickly and quietly as possible. You hoped the distance you’d put between yourself and the daycare attendant would buy you some leniency with sound. Your socks certainly helped muffle the fierce scrabbling you were doing, but did not help in the slightest with traction. By the time you reached the top of the slide you were trembling with exhaustion and adrenaline, and took a moment to sit and listen. Moon’s raspy voice echoed through the daycare, continuing with the count.
“Fifteen… sixteen…”
You still had time to find a better spot, then. Mindful of the count, you crawled further into the tunnels. There was one with large punching bags hanging from the ceiling, another with rows of foam pieces layered to make a weave, or simply a darkened tunnel. You considered your options for a moment before deciding the punching bags would be the safest, for now. Moon hadn’t said anything about switching spots after all. You crawled into the space and steadied the jostled bags as you moved forward, immersing yourself into the section. The bags would hopefully help hide any small motions you made, and you could see out through the breaks in between. Better than the tunnel, with no visibility but the entrance and exit.
“Thirty. Ready or not, little bird… here I come.” The words stole your breath, and seemingly the breath of the daycare itself. A haunted silence settled over the space, even the quiet daycare theme had vanished.
You focused on controlling your breathing, in through your mouth and out through your nose. Count to 3… breathe. It was hard to focus on being so silent when you knew that you were being hunted. Because that’s what this was, wasn’t it? You knew it was more than just a simple game of hide and seek with that warning, and the way Moon had looked at you. Figures, that a security bot would be into that, you mused.
The soft, intentional jingle of bells drew your attention back to the present, and you covered your mouth with one hand to muffle the gasp that almost snuck out. Moon was just beneath the tunnel you had been eyeing as a hiding spot, the light from his red eyes reflecting off the smooth plastic. As you watched, he reached up to touch the surface, drumming his long fingers against the side. He was so tall, holy shit.
“You cannn’t hide-hide for-ever.” He crooned, arm drooping back to his side as he resumed his slinking walk. “I willll find you-you.”
And if that wasn’t terrifying and a turn-on all at once.
You watched as he continued to prowl around, sometimes pausing to listen. In those moments he stood up straight and you took a moment to appreciate just how tall he was. You recalled someone telling you he was approaching nine feet with his hat, and you were inclined to believe them.
As Moon approached the opposite end of the daycare, he vanished among the play structures. Seizing the opportunity, you slowly sat upright, crawling out of the hiding spot you’d claimed. You took extra care to keep from jostling the bags hanging around you, mindful that too much movement could clue him in to your location.
You had precious few seconds to spare for this, something you were keenly aware of as you moved. Distant jingling and glitched out laughter froze you in your tracks for a moment, before it faded and you continued your desperate lunge. You crawled through the tunnel Moon had touched not even five minutes ago, breath hitching as you recalled the way his fingers had danced over the surface. Fear and pride kept you moving, you were determined not to let him find you. At least, not easily.
A few more pauses and nerve-wracking silences later, you found yourself near the top of one of the towers. The spot had decent enough visibility, and until Moon resorted to climbing the outside of the structures, should remain safe. You could feel your breath coming in shorter little gasps from the exertion of traveling the distance behind you. One hand covered your mouth again, the other tightly gripping the netting you leaned against. You refused to let your trembling be the thing that got you caught.
For a moment you allowed yourself to just sit, to calm your racing heartbeat and control the airflow to your lungs. Then it hit you, how silent things had gotten. Even the jingle of Moon’s tell-tale bells couldn’t be detected. No… that means… Movement inside the play structures caught your eye, Moon’s form unmistakable as he crawled through the netting. The game just became much, much harder.
You watched as he moved, careful steps and calculated motions reducing sound and, in the darkness, made him almost invisible. He truly was the head of security bots, and you pitied anyone who found themselves hunted under different circumstances.
Eventually you lost sight of the daycare attendant, and released the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. If he was inside the structures now, then you needed to figure out a way to move. He was nothing if not thorough, and you were too close for comfort. You eyed the slide to your right critically, weighing the odds. If you went down, you’d be more exposed. You’d have to move quickly, and somehow avoid letting Moon see you. If you didn’t move soon you wouldn’t last, so with that in mind you maneuvered yourself into the slide, knuckles white with tension as you strained to move slowly. The slide you’d chosen was one of the steeper ones, likely due to its height. You needed all your grip strength to descend it.
Right as you reached the bottom, your foot slipped and your heart sank as you slammed against the base. The slap reverberated through the daycare, and you could tell the moment Moon realized you’d made a mistake. His dark laughter echoed into the chamber of the slide, and you bolted. Throwing yourself out of the slide, you sprinted across the open space, the gleeful chime of bells close behind. With the last bit of energy, you lunged for safety-
And a smooth, cool hand wrapped around your ankle.
“Game over, little bird.”