#all of this is setup for vanny and co

[icaruskeyartist]

Part 3 of the whump fic I'm working on. Part 1 is here (with @pillowspace's cute art cause I'm still not over it), and part 2 is here.

TW for talking about kidnapping.

Pretty sure we'll be hitting the big whump in the next bit. It's been a lot of setup so far, sorry.

You debate going to work anyway. After all, what could the powers that be do, deny you entry and your $30+ ticket fee? Except you don't have a child, and the daycare, or at least the Attendant, is pretty strict about adults hanging around, especially if they don't have kids there themselves.

And if you break the loop this go around (you will, you will), then you could use the cash. You linger on the thought of after. If there's no fire, would Sun and Moon want to stay at the daycare? Or maybe you could all move someplace far away from all of this, to the beach or the mountains, someplace beautiful for the animatronic who has never even seen the real sun or moon.

Yeah, something like that would be nice. So you don't go, not wanting to waste your money when you know there's still a couple months before the fire and you have plenty of time to figure things out.

You're still very excited once your forced time off is over, and you get to work early, scanning through one of the back doors since everything else is still shuddered. You'd been in such a hurry you forgot to even tie your shoes, resulting in a spectacular fall when you enter the brightly lit daycare. "Sunny! Shi---" You barely catch yourself from smashing your face into the rubber floor. Okay, yes, it's time to tie your shoes. Or maybe invest in some velcro ones since you keep forgetting.

"Hello, you're here! Are you all right?" It was infuriatingly endearing how Sun could bound so easily across the daycare in three, four strides to bend over and offer you a hand. He seemed so normal too; you take that hand and use it to propel yourself up and into a hug. "Ah, well, I've missed you too Sunshine!" Sun hesitates before hugging you back, and you withdraw slowly, looking him over.

"How're things while I was gone? You look okay." You're reluctant to let him pull away entirely, hands on his forearms well after he'd let go. He did look okay. No children's doodles or sticky handprints, just the usual dings and scrapes from daily wear and tear. You'd like to help buff everything out and clean him up, but...

"Everything was fine," he says, and you know he's lying. But nothing you say will get him to admit it.

You trail after him while he prepares for the day, peppering him with questions about the previous few days, but he's evasive. It's not until you ask about Moon that he stops.

"I really appreciate your concern," he says, rays pulled in ever so slightly, "but talking about Moony is... hard. The children will be here soon, so please. Let's just have a Fazerrific day."

"Does he know I miss him at least?" you ask, and when Sun turns away without an answer, you grab his hand. "Sunny. I'm your friend. You can tell me anything. You know that right?"

There's a moment of hesitation before Sun lays a hand over yours, adjusting your hold so your hands are cupped in his. "Starlight," he says, voice very very soft as he stares at your hands. "You need to take care of yourself first. We'll be okay."

"But---" You won't. The words die as Sun pulls away, and you find yourself tearing up despite everything. That's so close to the Sun you knew, the Sun you fell for, but it's not. Because he doesn't trust you enough to share his pain.

Sun opens the doors to let the first kids of the day in, and you wipe furiously at your face, trying to shake off the feeling settling uncomfortably in your stomach like lead.

-*-*-*-*-

Hiding in the janitor's closet, waiting for the pizzaplex to fully close makes you feel a little dumb, but here you are regardless, tucked away with the mops and bleach. It smells vaguely of chlorine; you're trying not to think too hard about what you might be inhaling.

You decide to check the news on your phone instead. Strange, but you hadn't really looked at the local news before. Everything had been so centered on you, on the Attendant, on this little bubble of the world, that you genuinely had no idea what was going on elsewhere. You open the local news site, leaning back as you scroll.

Twins Missing from Beds, age 9 Latest Disappearances of Children, No Leads Found Says Detectives The Pied Piper Strikes Again

The three articles are clustered together, the twins being the oldest story from right around when you started working at the daycare. You tap the newest one first, skimming initially, only to pause and restart when you catch the name Freddy.

...Ms. Spencer reports that she lost her daughter shortly after picking her up from Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex's daycare service. She says they had stopped to use the restroom and when she finished, her daughter was gone...

There's a picture of the daughter, and your gut, already dropping, went cold. You know this girl. She had the biggest crush on the Attendant and would constantly carry this handmade plush of 'Eclipse', a sort of pseudo-original character she claimed was Sun and Moon together.

You remember Ms. Spencer too. She always looked tired but happy with her little girl. You don't remember what she did, just that she explained Eclipse was named after they saw an actual eclipse together a couple years ago. She'd fallen asleep and dropped the plush, so you had chased after them to return it.

Laura. The girl's name was Laura.

Is! Is Laura. This Pied Piper person wasn't murdering them, as far as the article said. The kids were just missing, and Laura disappeared---yesterday. She disappeared yesterday while you'd been at home daydreaming. No, it's fine. She's only recently gone and

You click on the other articles, a perverse sense of relief hitting you when you see the other four victims weren't kidnapped from the Pizzaplex, though you do recognize another name from an old roster and one of the boys is wearing a Roxy shirt. The oldest article, the twins, was almost two months ago. You didn't like what that probably meant, so you pushed the thoughts away. There was plenty more to worry about.

Like maybe that figure skulking about was the Pied Piper?

You leave the closet well after close, squinting as your eyes adjusted to actual light and not just being blinded by your phone. You check for Vanessa before making your way to the bathrooms by the daycare. Maybe there was some clue left behind?

It's quiet without the noise of the kids and parents and music all at once. Of course, it'd been like that before, but now, knowing that a child went missing, was kidnapped, here... or maybe you were just gone too many days in a row and forgot how it felt. You're just being paranoid. When you get to the bathrooms, you peek inside, then slip in, holding the door so it doesn't slam shut. The lights flicker on from your movement.

It's clean. Of course it is. The janitorial staff wasn't particularly large, but they always did a sweep at the end of the day. You don't know what you were expecting really. Crime scene tape? Those little number placards placed next to a puddle of blood? You probably should lay off the true crime for a bit, you decide, even as you check each stall. There's a wet floor sign hanging out in the far back, and you give him a little pat on the head. It's hard not to feel affectionate towards the little guys.

Would Sun and Moon be annoyed if you took one of the signs home with you both after the fire? Or maybe they're like guinea pigs and need more than one.

You're getting a little too distracted now.

At this last stall, you do actually notice something. The ceiling tile above the toilet is askew. Not much, just enough that you thought there was a bit of mold before you realized that it's just the blackness showing through. "Excuse me," you say to the sign, hearing its little wheels scrabble for purchase on the wet tile so it can watch you clamber onto the toilet and push the tile further out of the way. You have to take off your sweater and toss it up first before you can climb onto the metal pipe at the back of the toilet and pull yourself up.

You manage to support your weight on the tracks holding the tiles up, peeking down. "Don't tell anyone I'm up here, okay? This isn't dumb. Vanessa said there's someone sneaking around here and now there's a kidnapper. So maybe they set the fire. Maybe they're using the pizzaplex to track victims and they got greedy with Laura.

You try not to linger on the if I was working this wouldn't have happened. If Sun wasn't struggling, if if if

You also try not to think about the fact the daycare had been dark when you passe by again.

You turn the flashlight on your phone before dragging the tile back in place. It's dark now, musty smelling, and your heart is in your throat. You tie your sweater around your waist and start to crawl, looking for... something. You don't know what just yet. But you will.