Chapter Text
In the darkened space of the Superstar Daycare, Solar was sitting at his usual spot at the security counter, hunched over the computer and working on one of his many projects. His gloved fingers flew across the keyboard, his rust-colored eyes flicking between the lines of code that moved across the screen in front of him.
The Daycare was in Night Mode, with the only light coming from the glowing wall decorations and the bright fluorescent advertisement screens. He sat alone in the silence, with only the distant mechanical hum from the building’s electronics. He had worked all through the night again; he’d hardly moved from this position the whole time.
He’d been working on this project for over a week, and it was just one of several projects he was juggling. He always had several projects going at the same time, often pulling all-nighters to make progress on each of them. Monty had coerced him into making this one -- as the gator so often did -- and Solar knew he would be expecting it soon.
After finishing a particularly difficult line of code, Solar paused and checked what time it was; it was about 5:30AM, a half-hour away from opening hours.
Taking an artificial breath, Solar straightened back up his seat. “Okay, that’s enough for now…” he hummed to himself, as he saved and closed the program for later.
The Pizzaplex would open for business soon, and he needed to get the Daycare ready for the day. He’d already cleaned and sanitized everything the night prior, after the last shift had ended -- he always tried to keep that routine, so that everything was ready to go in the morning; but there were still plenty of things he needed to do.
Solar pulled up his to-do list, and took stock of everything that needed his attention.
Not only was he the primary Daycare Attendant currently working there, he was also the Daycare’s mechanic, which meant it was his duty to fix anything that broke in the facility.
“Mmm… Some of the lights are out in the ceiling… A dispenser… Some floor tile on one of the staircases is loose again…”
He pursed his lips in annoyance at a few of the tasks, because some of these were things that were always breaking, over and over, and he had to fix them, over and over.
There was always something breaking in the Daycare. If it wasn’t the go-karts, it was the soda machines, or the advertisement LEDs, or the light-up decals all over the walls and ceiling; if it wasn’t electrical, something structural was falling apart on the play structures, or the walkways and railings, or the party rooms, or any place a human could walk on and get hurt. The plumbing or pipes would leak, the fridges stopped running, the plush floors would rip, mold would magically appear somewhere.
“Right, I can get most of this done before we open,” Solar said to himself. “At least the places the humans will be.”
Ready to get right to work, Solar stood from his chair and stretched out his joints. His model, a dark orange-and-black one that resembled Sun’s, was a fairly shoddy one compared to his older brothers. His circuits and limbs weren’t as strong or durable as theirs were, and his body was clearly made to be a prototype, not a finished product. But it went beyond that -- there were clear signs of damage and abuse on his casing; a few of his rays were cracked and chipped, and most notably, there was a massive spiderweb crack on the left side of his faceplate, from his eyebrow down to his cheek. Some of the damage was recent. His pants had been ripped and patched in several places.
Solar went to the control panel and switched the Daycare back into Day Mode. The bright overhead lights flared to life, and he could immediately see which ones were out. The music played through the speakers and echoed around the vaulting space.
He retrieved his tools from the cabinets behind the security counter, and fished out the replacement light bulbs; thankfully, they still had a few. He called down the old cable from the ceiling, the same one his older brothers used to fly with, and hooked it to the loop on his back. The old mechanism lifted him off the ground and pulled him high above the play structures, where he quickly glided over to the burnt-out lights and began to replace them.
He paused after he’d gotten the first dead bulb out.
“And I’m probably not getting any help from you today,” Solar grumbled and glanced over to the balcony, where Moon spent most of his time. “Tch. Yeah, definitely not.” He tossed his head and turned his attention back to the job at hand.
Another day where Moon wouldn’t be doing his job, huh? It sadly didn’t surprise him anymore. The days where Moon occasionally graced the Daycare’s business with his presence were getting rarer and rarer. By now, it was to the point he hadn’t shown up for naptime in months. For Solar, it was irritating to be left to handle yet another job, but in his heart, he knew Moon shouldn’t be around children; he was far too volatile these days, and Solar knew he was dangerous.
After a few minutes the job was done, and Solar touched back to the ground. After disposing of the old bulbs, he made his way to the area in front of the Daycare’s entrance that was underneath the stairs, where a Fizzyfaz dispenser wasn’t dispensing.
“This thing’s out again…” he grumbled to himself. “Do people even use this one down here?...”
He removed the side panel to get to the machine’s insides. Its wires, gears, and circuits were old and in desperate need of replacement parts, which Solar had no access to; instead, he was expected to rig up repairs to keep these machines chugging along.
Most of the things he had to fix around the Daycare, he’d fixed dozens of times. If he could just buy new things instead of fighting a losing battle with machines that were ready to fall apart, a lot of these issues wouldn’t happen! But god forbid Fazbear open their wallets; their business model was to keep using what they already had for as long as damn well possible, and usually, far beyond that.
The equipment here was so old it was disgusting. Solar was in desperate need of new tools, new pieces and parts, new everything. He would have gladly ordered them all himself, but Moon had oh so generously locked them out of his bank account and changed all the information so that Solar had to go through him to get anything. And Moon could be petty and difficult.
As Solar did his best to clean and recalibrate the gummed up circuits, his eyes were narrowed, a frustrated shadow over them. He’d been inundated with this work for over a year, ever since he gained his body, and sometimes he really felt the bitterness of it…
But then, while he knelt there, another person walked down the stairs and turned the corner.
Lunar was making his way to the Daycare, humming and bobbing his head to imaginary music. He’d just woken up from where he’d been sleeping in the Theater.
Just as he made it to the big wooden doors, he noticed Solar wasn’t at the security counter. He looked around for him, and finally saw him.
His face lit up and he called out, “Good morning, Brother!”
At the sound of his voice, Solar glanced up. As soon as he saw the smaller bot, his expression softened.
“Morning,” he replied, his tone much more relaxed. “Hang on, I’ll be done in a second.”
Lunar trotted over to his brother’s side. “Whatcha doin’?”
Solar reached into the dispenser with a wrench. “This thing’s clogged again. For the hundredth time,” he added the last part with a huff.
Lunar glanced up at the machine’s interface, with all its drink options, and jumped up to start pressing the buttons. “Beep-boop, beep-boop. I want the Roxy-flavor faz.”
“Press the button all you want, it’s not on right now,” Solar called without looking up from the machine.
“Aaww.”
“You could always just get one from the other vending machines.”
Lunar perked up with a small gasp. “You’re right!”
Turning away, Lunar ran inside the play area and headed over to its left side, where the refreshment area was.
Solar finished what he was doing, managing to get the ancient contraption back into working order enough to dispense more drinks.
“I’ll probably be back here next week,” he grumbled as he put the side panel back in place.
He stood up and wiped his gloves clean of the dirt as best he could.
Then, he sped through the final task he needed to tackle before the Daycare opened, re-setting the tiles that had come loose on some of the stairs.
There were other things on the list he needed to fix here and there, but they were minor and wouldn’t disrupt business or put any kids in danger, so they could wait.
He finally joined his brother inside the play area, and stowed his tools back in the cabinet. He could hear Lunar amusing himself, tossing the various foam toys around.
“What are you up to over there?” Solar asked, tilting his head.
Lunar was piling the toys around one of the play structure’s floor-level entranceways. “Goooo-nna play with the kids,” he sang. “Goooo-nna make a fort, in the jungle gyms…”
“Alright, sure,” Solar shrugged; then pointed over to the miniature playhouse near the ballpit. “Not gonna just use the house?”
“We got all squished up when everyone tried to fit in there last time,” Lunar said, then lifted his long arms over his head, palms facing the ceiling. “The fort’s gotta be biiiigger.”
“Snrk- okay,” Solar chuckled.
His little brother’s antics always helped to lighten his mood when he was surrounded by that cloud of negativity. Lunar was only a few months old, but already, Solar couldn’t imagine life without him.
Lunar was half Solar’s height, with big round eyes and a squishy face; he wore huge maroon sleeves, poofy pants, and a nightcap, which were covered in glowing golden stripes and stars.
In many ways, the brothers contrasted; where Solar was often low-energy, down-to-Earth, and a little dour, Lunar had big expressive eyes and was playful and a bit mischievous. But they were also similar in many ways; both their voices were soft and rarely loud, and they both had a constant need to be doing something with their hands, be it stimming or fiddling with something.
As Lunar stacked the shapes into a fort just the way he wanted it, Solar checked the time and saw it was very close to opening hours. They had to finish up.
He looked over to the security counter, where the colorful barrels were laid out in a neat row across the top; Solar had wiped them down last night.
He picked each barrel up and stacked them around the Daycare, in roughly the same areas they were “supposed” to be.
He didn’t care about the ritual itself, all that much… but he remembered how important it had once been for Sun. He wasn’t as meticulous as he had been, but he tried to get it as close to his standards as he could manage.
When that was done, it was time for the show to begin.
~~~~~~~~~~
Right on cue, the children started to arrive, and the Daycare opened its doors for the day.
Solar checked each of them in one by one, putting on his customer service voice to deal with the parents. Lunar started playing with them as soon as they came in.
There weren’t as many children coming to the Daycare as there used to be. There used to be anywhere from thirty to sixty of them, back when Sun was around, but now that number hovered just around a dozen or less. And while the job was easier with fewer charges to look after, it was tough for Solar to see the number become less and less over the year; it was just another sign of Sun’s absence.
One mother walked up to him, followed closely by her young daughter. He recognized the girl right away; she was one of their long-term patrons. She had been coming here for years, as far back as when Sun and Moon shared a body. Anytime Solar saw her, it brought up flashes of memories; but he was getting used to pushing down the terrible ones.
“Welcome to the Superstar Daycare,” Solar went through his normal script. He was familiar with the little girl, and had seen the mother once or twice; her husband usually dropped her off. Her mother was decent and well mannered, which was always a relief when dealing with customers.
Just as they were about to finish the process, the woman paused.
“Hmmm,” she was suddenly looking at something behind him, squinting. “You know, I just noticed, you look different from the ads, Sun.”
Solar paused for a moment, too. In the past, those words might have thrown him off his game, but now the pain was familiar.
“Mama, that’s not Sun!” the little girl piped up.
“It’s not?” the woman looked surprised.
“It’s true,” he said. “I’m not Sun. I’m Solar.”
“Oh, really?” the woman tilted her head.
“Yeah.”
“I didn’t know the Daycare got a new mascot.”
He didn’t want to consider himself that, not in a way that would take that role from Sun… but that’s kind of what he was now, wasn’t it?
“It’s a long story. I’ve been here for about a year now.”
“Silly me, then,” she shrugged. “If it’s been that long I suppose you must be fine. Take good care of Evelyn!”
“We will,” Solar nodded, before looking down to the little girl. “Want to go inside and play with Lunar, Evelyn?”
“Yeah,” Evelyn said sweetly, and hurried into the Daycare, while her mother left a moment after.
When both of them were out of earshot, Solar let out a sigh.
Every now and then, one of the humans mistook him for Sun because of their similar models. Most regulars to the Daycare had learned the difference, but even now, once in a while there was someone who hadn’t gotten the memo.
Even if it didn’t hurt as much as it used to, it was still a bitter pill to swallow.
Sun’s smiling face was all around him -- on the blindingly bright advertisement screens, on the decorations and posters all over the walls, and embroidered on the plushies and merchandise.
It was always a constant reminder that he wasn’t here anymore.
And Solar, standing below those images in this banged-up prototype body that resembled him, was a pale imitation trying to fill his role.
Solar tried his best to keep the Superstar Daycare running in Sun’s absence. Someone had to pick up his duties, and it seemed it had to fall to him. The staff bots were hardly competent, Moon couldn’t be bothered or trusted, the Glamrocks and other animatronics were too busy or didn’t care, and Lunar… Lunar helped him with the kids for some shifts, that was true, but Solar wanted his little brother to live freely, happily, to have plenty of time to himself and to just have fun in his life; he didn’t want to lay the tedious responsibility on him.
After that moment to himself, he checked his sign-in sheet.
“Okay. That’s everyone.”
The hours passed by, and Solar tried his best to take care of the children. He kept them from hurting themselves as they ran around the play structures, and Lunar did a good job of playing with them and keeping them entertained. Solar served them snacks, provided them with the activities such as arts and crafts, and cleaned up as they went.
The kids seemed happy enough, but Solar was aware he wasn’t as good at this as Sun was. Sun knew exactly what to do and loved this job, while Solar had never felt truly comfortable in this role. He wasn’t terrible with kids, but he didn’t have the innate skills to connect with them on their level fully; he knew how to care for their needs in a more logical way, but not how to make them laugh with joy the whole day long, the way Sun had.
Lunar liked the kids. He was good at playing with them and finding things for them to do. But he was also a lot like their friend, rather than a caretaker.
When naptime came around, they switched the Daycare into Night Mode and wrangled the children to lie down. Lunar climbed into the big doughnut toy they had, and fell asleep alongside them, leaving only Solar awake in the dark room, surrounded by eleven snoring bundles of blankets – ten kids and one small robot.
Just as he had expected, Moon didn’t bother to show up.
“I knew it,” Solar whispered under his breath, staring at the balcony, where a thin crack of light was visible from beyond the curtain.
As the rest of the day came and went, there were the usual ups and downs that came with dealing with children, but it passed without much issue.
And at long last, the parents finally started arrived to pick up their children, and Solar and Lunar bid them goodbye one by one.
~~~~~~~~~~
When they were finally done, Solar switched back into work mode; he retrieved the barrels, which had been predictably knocked over during the course of the day. Lunar’s fort had been torn down and thrown all over the place too.
Solar wiped the barrels down with sanitizer; he’d never seen the point in doing it so often, really, but it had been important to Sun
On the other hand, Lunar grabbed the big doughnut toy, which was taller than he was. “Hah-yah!” he rolled it like a tire. It whisked across the floor, under the bridge, and finally toppled on its side.
“Y’know,” Solar chuckled, “we’re supposed to be straightening up the place.”
“Mm-hmm!” Lunar grinned back.
“Why don’t you go bring it back for me.”
“Okaaay,” Lunar did as he was told, retrieving the doughnut and rolling it back to the pile of other toys. “Aaaall done,” he stood back.
“Great,” Solar said, then motioned at him with the sanitizer rag. “And I suppose you don’t want to help me with THIS, do you.”
“Nope!” Lunar shook his head fast.
“Yeah? Didn’t think so,” Solar chuckled.
The brothers were enjoying the moment, laughing amongst themselves.
But then, just as they were finishing up, Moon appeared.
In a quick motion he was on the lip of the balcony, jumped down into the ballpit, and vaulted over the barrier onto the Daycare floor, before marching towards the two of them.
As soon as the brothers saw him approaching, their banter stopped. Solar straightened up tensely, and Lunar went silent.
Moon glared at Solar with his piercing red eyes. He motioned sharply with a hand. “You,” he spat. “Listen up.”
Moon started walking closer. Instinctively, Solar stepped in front of Lunar, so that the smaller robot was behind him.
“What is it, Moon?” he kept his voice even.
“Got a job for you,” Moon said. “Give me your arm so I can send it.”
“Ugh,” Solar sighed – of course, more work -- but held out his arm as he was told to. “Here.”
Moon grabbed his wrist tightly, and through their connection, a new list of tasks popped into Solar’s head. Some of them were Moon’s duties around the Pizzaplex, which he was now shirking and forcing onto Solar… but then there were orders for various gadgets or programs for Solar to make. He recognized what those were: they were all parts for Moon’s ideas that he hoped would fix Sun and bring him back from his coma.
He was used to doing all kinds of jobs for Moon like this; he almost never rejected an order from him.
Moon released Solar’s wrist. “Get them done.”
“I’ll get to them as soon as I can,” he said, filing them away on his to-do list.
“Make them your priority.” Moon’s voice dipped into a low threat.
“…Yeah, sure,” Solar narrowed his eyes at him, not wanting to spring up an argument right here.
While the two bots glared at one another, Lunar was still behind his big brother. He had always been nervous around Moon, but he was still curious about him. He peered around Solar’s legs to get a better look at him; Moon’s eyes flicked down to him, his expression cold, but he didn’t acknowledge him otherwise.
“Good. Don’t make me wait. Sun needs this.”
Moon stalked away, disappearing somewhere into the depths of the Pizzaplex, to do god only knew what.
Solar sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to think of how to fit the new orders into his schedule.
“That guy can be a real jerk,” Lunar said bluntly.
“Tch. You’re right about that.”
“He’s just always gotta act so pissy about everything, all the time. Why does he gotta be that way?”
Solar paused before answering. “…I don’t know,” he said quietly… but he was hesitant, almost guilty.
Lunar stared at him for another moment, but didn’t press him further.
Whenever Solar looked around the Pizzaplex, it wasn’t just Sun’s face that was plastered everywhere; Moon was always right there beside him, styled with a serene smile. Two of a kind. Brothers. Twins.
He knew that Moon was grieving over what had happened to Sun…
The truth was, Solar knew more about Moon than Lunar realized.
Solar had evolved from the fragment of Moon’s Killcode left behind in Sun’s head; and because of that, he shared all of Moon’s memories from before the twins had separated. He knew Moon had been a violent, abusive asshole for as long as he’d been alive. He knew some of this behavior came from fear and anger at being trapped, but that excuse only went so far. At his core, that was his normal personality.
…But it had gotten exponentially worse after Solar manifested, after Sun had accepted the risk of separating and fell comatose as a result.
That event had destroyed Moon. Solar remembered how horrific that time had been to live through. Moon continued to live in that rage, even now; he practically CHOSE to hold onto that rage and keep it burning, no matter what, throwing aside all possible other avenues for recovering or healing or letting go.
Solar had tried to earn Moon’s trust -- and if not trust, then at least his tolerance. But after a year of suffering, he knew that it would never happen. Not unless Sun woke up. Even then, the chances were slim.
But Lunar didn’t deserve Moon’s hate. When Solar built Lunar, he’d hoped Moon would be more amicable to him; he’d even built him to resemble Moon. He’d hoped Moon would see the similarities between each other, and feel some kinship with him… but it seemed it hadn’t happened.
The first day Moon had met Lunar, a few months ago… it hadn’t been pretty.
He had told Lunar about his origin, about what had happened to Sun… but a lot of those deeper, complex emotions were still unknown to the smaller bot.
But at this moment, he had even more tasks to attend to, and wanted to get on them.
“I better get back to work, I have a bunch of crap to do tonight,” he finally.
“Okay,” Lunar agreed softly.
Solar thought about which task he should turn to next; there were just so many…
The Daycare needed cleaning. Then it needed an Attendant to watch the kids during play hours, and one to watch them at naptime while they slept. Then, the Daycare needed constant maintenance and repairs. Then, there were his engineering and programming jobs; then there were other important projects he’d taken on; then there were Monty’s schemes he was involved with that kept this place funded; then there were Moon’s orders… And on top of it all, he tried to be a good brother for Lunar…
It was never-ending, and he tried to bear it all. But there was still a truth to the situation: he was just one person.
He could only do so much by himself.
But… he wouldn’t complain.
He would grit his teeth and just do it
There was even a deep amount of pride he took in being useful.
“I’m gonna head out for a while!” Lunar said; there was still plenty of time in the evening for him to find something to entertain himself out in the Pizzaplex.
“Have fun,” Solar said, once again heading to grab his tools.
Lunar bounded for the doorway; just before he turned the corner, he paused mid-step and looked back.
“I love you, Brother!” he called out.
Over his shoulder, Solar called back with a small smile on his face: “Love you too, kid.”