Chapter Text
The Pizzaplex, Gregory is starting to realize, is rather self-contained. What corporate wants, corporate gets; beyond that, the higher-ups genuinely don't care what happens in the building as long as the money keeps flowing.
It's why the problems fester and grow, and it's how the robots get to have their fun without much fear of discovery. Sure, maybe the company heads check in sometimes, and he's certainly had a supervisor at some point, but... it's grown lax, now that he's no longer new. Now that he's just another cog in the wheel, he can see the neglect everywhere else, too.
Gregory isn't even sure why he's upset, really. He's feeling antsy, something crawling under his skin with nowhere to go. He needs to do laundry, for the sake of his work shirts and his still-wet jacket, but he can't bring himself to do it yet. He needs to check on his scabbed over cut and throw away the banaids he'd stuck on it last night. He needs to check his assignments - fuck, there's one due this week that he hasn't started on yet.
That, annoyingly enough, is the thought that gets him out of bed and into his work clothes. Because fuck, he's still going to use his work privileges to leech off of the Pizzaplex's computers and wi-fi. Gregory grabs his jacket - the one the Daycare Attendant gave him, soft and colorful and comfortable even when it's just tied around his waist - but he sees the wet splotch on the sleeve and sighs.
Damned water won't evaporate in a few hours. There's probably a puddle on his floor that he'll have to wipe up later.
He drops the jacket and heads to the Pizzaplex. It's still some godawful hour in the morning, so thankfully the building isn't open yet. If he can finish his shit before it opens, then... he'll deal with the crowds when he has to. It'll be fine.
One assignment later - they've gotten easier since he's resorted to... using his resources - and Gregory is leaning back in the office chair, massaging his wrists with a grimace. While he does the assignments, he's also trying to memorize things, filing them away for later, but it's been harder lately. Gods, how does anyone expect him to absorb the names of muscles in under a week with enough brain space left over for the other shit he's supposed to learn?
Gregory presses his hands to his face and groans. Fuck, he's so tired. In between his lack of sleep and... when's the last time he's eaten something that wasn't sweet? When's the last time he's eaten something filling?
Dammit. He'd picked up stuff from the store just a few days ago - did he go through it all already? Or maybe he just forgot about it, had forgotten to even eat any of it because he hadn't even remembered it was there. It's probably still in his fridge at home, piled in the back of the shelves because he's an idiot.
He laughed a little at himself. He's done alright, managing work and school and supernatural threats, but - he's slipping again.
The last time this happened, he'd lost his job and had needed to withdraw from the class before his record was ruined. He'd been lucky enough to be able to stay with someone, so he hadn't been exactly homeless, but it was a close thing. This time, he doesn't have anyone. He can't afford to fall apart right now. He really can't.
Gregory straightens with a sigh, his eyes wearily moving over the screens in front of him. He just needs to clock in, and then he'll just... keep the cameras up until it's time for his first patrol.
Maybe he should work on the assignment due next week? If he gets it started now, it... probably won't be that bad.
He manages to copy down the names and functions of the neurons before he can't stand it any longer and closes the document. He might as well clock in early and start patrolling. Gregory switches over to the program used by the company, opening up his schedule and -
He pauses, mouse hovering over the button.
According to this program, he'd clocked in for his last shift, even though he's pretty sure he hadn't. Even stranger, it says he'd clocked out, too, which he's certain he didn't. He distinctly remembers entering the office, touching nothing, and then leaving. There's no way he could have clocked out; but who else could have done that? It's supposed to require his name tag to log in - useless in most other cases - so... no one could have done it by accident.
Gregory frowns. Who the fuck would hack into the Fazbear system and do something like this? Even weirder, whoever did it managed to clock him in at the exact time - the system operates with 00:00:00 time records, which means he's always clocking in a few seconds late or a few seconds early. Unless the hacker bypassed that altogether and just set the time manually?
...Come to think of it. He knows someone who's a little too comfortable with hacking things, doesn't he?
"Hello."
Gregory turns, slightly startled but not too surprised to see Moon standing in the doorway. The office is dark and the hallway is dim - the light level is more than low enough for the Naptime Attendant to make an appearance, despite the fact that outside, the sun must be rising. "Hey there," Gregory says, half-grinning. "Did you guys hack my schedule just make sure I didn't lose my job? Or am I crazy?"
Moon's eyes flicker from the screen to Gregory's face, looking confused. "Didn't Sun say we would take care of everything?" Moon asks.
Huh. "Yeah, but... wasn't expecting this, if I'm being honest," Gregory replies. He looks back at the screen again, staring at the proof of... something.
It's fine. He's fine. He was literally having a breakdown over nothing.
Gregory feels like throwing up.
"Thanks," he manages.
"You don't seem happy?" Moon asks. The animatronic is slightly bent over, one hand on the doorway, but his eyes glow well enough for Gregory to know that he's staring right at him. Is it concern? Probably.
Gregory breathes deeply and slowly. "Sorry. Just - tired, I guess. I appreciate it though, I swear."
Moon's faceplate clicks slightly. "Have you been sleeping?" Moon asks, voice light and curious. No trace of irritation, none of the low rasp that sometimes enters his voice when he's threatening and alert.
Gregory eyes Moon carefully. "Yeah, of course," he replies. He's not even lying - he probably got a full five hours of sleep this time. A bit of a record, considering how his nights have been going so far. "Uh. How've you been?"
The attempt at deflection is painfully obvious, but Moon doesn't comment on it. He just says, "Fine," and nothing else.
It's quiet for a moment.
"Guess I'll be the one to clock in this time," Gregory says finally, turning back to the screen. "Daycare is open today, right? Good luck with that."
"Sun," Moon says, and then his voicebox makes a weird noise before falling silent.
Gregory finishes what he's doing and turns off the monitor. "Sun... what?" he asks idly, reaching out to power down the computers.
Then the lights in the office turn on, making him blink and just barely bite back the urge to hiss like a vampire. Fucking hell, that's bright. He turns to Moon, about to ask why the hell he'd done that, but finds himself looking at Sun instead.
Of course. The light level.
"Sun," the animatronic says cheerfully, bizarrely referring to himself in the third person, "wants to talk to you for a bit!"
"Uh. Sure, but won't you be late-"
Sun smiles brightly. "Come with me to the Daycare. It won't take long, I promise."
Gregory blinks, then shrugs, getting to his feet without much protest. He'll have to start patrols sometime; might as well get started with a friendly presence at his side.
As they walk through the Pizzaplex and through the lobby, Gregory can see the sun rising outside. It's still faintly grey, but he can see the soft yellow hue slowly permeating the sky.
It's peaceful. He almost stumbles, catching himself mid-yawn. With a shake of his head, Gregory tries to keep up with Sun. The animatronic isn't measuring his steps as he usually does - likely a way of compensating for the height difference - so he must be in a hurry.
"Are you alright?" the animatronic asks, the first sound either of them have made in awhile.
Gregory nods. "I'm fine, just waking up," he replies.
Sun smiles and throws open the doors of the Daycare. "I'm glad to hear that," Sun says cheerfully, leading them through the playground and into a side room. Surprisingly, it's rather small. There's a pile of bean bags in one corner, and there are curtains draped from every wall. With the blue-painted walls and the stars hanging from the ceiling, Gregory would've thought that it was a room specifically for Moon.
When the lights dim, he turns to find said Naptime Attendant standing in the doorway, glowing eyes trained on him. It's pretty intimidating, and unexpected; both factors him to stiffen. No matter how trusting he is, there's no getting around the fact that being trapped by an animatronic is literally one of his worst nightmares.
"This," Gregory says as calmly as possible, hand straying to the taser on his belt, "feels a lot like being led down an alley to get murdered in."
"It's not an alley," Moon says flatly. He moves away from the doorframe, letting Gregory relax slightly. "There's something Sun and I wish to discuss with you. Will you wait for a bit?"
Gregory blinks. "I mean, we're right here," he says, but then he hears the sounds of people. He realizes that the Pizzaplex has opened, and that there will probably be children entering the Daycare soon. "Oh, sorry, did we take too long -"
"No, it's fine," Moon says quickly. The animatronic is unloading a box - several of which line the walls - and pulling out blankets and pillows. "I don't work with children anymore, but..." The animatronic hesitates. "...I'm sorry. Can you take these and wait there?" Moon points toward the bean bags.
Gregory blinks, then takes the load. "Sure, I guess." He carries the blankets and pillows there, propping them on his lap as he sits down. The bean bags are softer than he'd thought, and his eyes widen slightly as he sinks in. It's insanely comfortable, and he's almost jealous of the kids who got to experience this kind of daycare before he remembers why scheduled nap times were cancelled in the first place.
It's a little sad to think about why a disused room would still be so clean. The Daycare Attendant must have kept every part of the place ready for the children, all these years, despite having to hide Moon for so long.
"I've got this," Gregory says reassuringly. "How long do you think you'll be?"
Strangely, Moon leans in and ruffles his hair. "Not long," the Naptime Attendant promises. He smiles a little more widely. "Don't worry about patrols. Even if you're a little late, we'll take care of it. Don't worry."
Gregory shrugs. With the animatronic's apparent disregard for laws, he can probably trust that they've actually got it covered. He's just seen proof that they can trusted for himself, after all. "Okay," he agrees. "I'll be here, I guess. Good luck getting away from the kids."
Moon's smile somehow widens further. The animatronic steps away, and Gregory gets one glimpse of the animatronic changing from Moon to Sun between blinks, the Daycare Attendant standing in the lit area outside, before the door is shut. Gregory is left in complete darkness - well, it's mostly complete darkness. The stars hanging from the ceiling glow softly in shades of yellow and white. They're pretty to look at.
Gregory lets himself settle into the bean bags and wonders how long the Daycare Attendant will be. It only takes a few minutes for him to decide that Moon would hardly hold a grudge if he used some of the pillows to lean on; it's not like he's messing up anything important.
After half an hour, the folded blankets have gone from a neat, orderly pile into a haphazard attempt at keeping them folded while still being spread over his legs and torso. It's warm, and comfortable, and soft. Gregory looks at his phone for a bit before turning it off, because the dim lighting in the room is a lot more pleasant to look at. He's not looking forward to having to step back outside for his shift, whenever that will be. He wouldn't mind if the Daycare Attendant takes their time.
Barely an hour has passed when Gregory's eyes slip closed, and he falls asleep.