Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chris sighed, slumping against the wall.

Having run around for hours on end was starting to catch up with him. His body protested whenever he so much as moved a finger. His legs and arms hurt, and he had a headache on top of all that.

But he had promised to both them and himself, that he would help them.

He could rest later.

He was especially set on pushing himself after a tiny critter begged him for food and he felt guilty about not having anything.

So, that was the plan. Go out, and find food for the critters.

He took in a deep breath and on the exhale pushed himself off of the wall.

Now was as good a time as any to get to it.

He walked off, hardly even acknowledging the deep ache in his bones.

.

“Aha!”

He grinned, holding up the can of beans he found in an employee lounge like it was a trophy.

He quickly scoured the rest of the cabinets but only found a small can of sweet corn and something so rotten and old, it looked more like ash than something that used to be food.

Chris huffed, shoving both cans into a trash bag. He stood, dusting himself off as he slung the bag over his shoulder and walked out.

From the darkness of a corner, unseen by him, something watched, licking its felt lips hungrily.

.

Chris groaned when the umpteenth cabinet turned up empty.

So far his haul consisted of the two cans he found before and another (albeit unlabeled one) he found wedged under a work desk (he prays that not a soul, not even a stray dust particle, saw his battle with the desk when it proceeded to topple on top of him).

He sighed, dragging a hand down his face.

Clink.

He froze, eyes darting around the room, when he caught movement in his peripheral vision.

His hand gripped the handle of the grab pack as he took a deep breath, steadying himself, before he twirled around, shooting a flare into the dark corner.

Something squeaked and a tiny critter with glowing eyes came scurrying out of the corner, its tail ablaze.

Chris huffed, rolling his eyes and turning away. And here he thought he was in actual danger.

He took a step, and another when pain shot through his calf.

He hissed, jumping on his good leg as he looked at... Ah.

A tiny Huggy stared back at him, its sharp teeth gripping onto his flesh through the fabric of his pants.

After a second of staring, he pointed his flare hand at it and watched its eyes widen as he shot at it.

His calf protested when the toy let go, scurrying away, and he could only watch as blood started flowing from the puncture wounds, staining his pants further.

He groaned when he heard the telltale sound of many scurrying feet and when he looked around, his fears were proven right.

A tiny army of toys watched him from within a vent and outside the doorway.

He gripped the handle of the flare hand, finger twitching over the trigger as he had a staring contest with many hungry toys.

He breathed in.

Silence.

He breathed out.

They pounced.

Immediately, Chris jumped, vaulting right over the initial wave of colourful toys. He skidded to a stop, taking off in a jog, trampling right over a stray toy that got in his way.

Every step sent a jolt of pain through his calf as he ran, a limp present in his stride.

He could hear squeals and high-pitched growls following close behind him as he turned a corner, stumbling over stray debris.

He cursed when he felt something hit the back of his good leg and before he could even turn, a new pain appeared.

He hissed, stumbling, the trash bag flying from his hand. He could only watch as half the toys split off, heading for the dropped bag.

“Oh no, you don’t,” he growled, kicking a dark critter, sending it bowling over a few others. He fired a flare once, twice! The critters scattered, squealing and yelping.

He swung his leg, whacking all the critters away from his bag, which he then grabbed, taking off in a sprint.

He found that his legs no longer hurt, Probably the adrenaline kicking in. About time.

He vaulted over a collapsed wall, falling to his hands and knees to crawl through an opening right after.

He gasped when he felt something slam into him from behind just as he stood.

He spun in a circle, trying to shake it off, but it was futile as he felt tiny claws start tearing through his shirt and skin.

He growled, backing up until his back slammed into the wall, jostling his insides and making his head spin for a moment.

He felt the toy fall, only to be replaced by-

Oh shit.

He yelped as a torrent of toys scrambled up his legs, biting and clawing as they went.

He jumped and kicked and tried to aim the flare gun down but it was futile.

In a last ditch effort, he took of running, shooting flares down in front of himself.

Toys squealed as they were burned and slowly but surely he got them all off.

He skidded around a corner, coming to a stop as he slammed a door open, stumbled into the room and pushed it closed behind himself.

He tried to quiet his laboured breathing as he listened to the sound of scurrying get closer before becoming quieter and eventually completely disappearing.

Chris inhaled deeply, trying to calm his racing heart as he finally looked up and around.

His breath hitched on the way out as he found himself staring at a rotting corpse, its head tilted in his direction.

“It’s nothing,” he mumbled under his breath, “Everything is fine.”

He spent a moment simply standing with his back resting against the door, catching his breath when he caught notice of something that made his heart drop.

He moved the trash bag in front of himself and felt anger fill him as he stared at the giant hole in the bottom.

So much for that...

He sighed, slowly starting to feel all the aches around his body come back. Both his legs throbbed, his back ached and his head was pounding.

He groaned, covering his eyes and sliding down to the floor.

A quick rest wouldn’t hurt. It would only be five minutes...

.

Chris snapped awake to the sound of something scratching at wood. His heart jumped into his throat when he realized the sound was coming from right behind him.

They had found him.

“Shit,” he cursed under his breath, pushing himself up off the floor, much to the protest of every muscle in his body.

His neck hurt now too. Must have slept wrong.

He scanned the room for any way out, a vent, a hole in the wall, anything, but to his disappointment, there was nothing.

He took a steadying breath, feeling something akin to familiar dread pool in his gut.

The only way out was through the door. And who knows if it was one or twenty of those things out there.

I can either try to wait it out, he thought, or take my chances and go for it.

He sighed, rubbing the rest of the sleep from his eyes. The bone-deep exhaustion permeating throughout his body was still ever present.

A bit of sitting around and listening to the scratching later, he decided that it was in fact only one critter. Well, as long as there weren’t others simply standing around, doing nothing.

Chris breathed in, pushing himself up off the floor with a groan as he breathed back out.

Christ, everything hurts.

He staggered, swaying on aching legs.

He groaned again, squeezing his eyes shut and dragging a hand down his face. His head was pounding in time with his heartbeat.

Letting out another sigh, he shifted the grab pack around, gripping the handles more comfortably as he approached the door.

Another long blink and moment of swaying on his feet later, he lurched forward, kicking the door next to the handle. The sound of wood splintering as it was thrown open barely covered the undeniably startled squawk the toy let out as it was knocked away by the force.

Chris huffed, taking off in a light jog (he wasn’t sure he could go any faster even if he tried).

He groaned internally when the sound of squealing and growling came back and he was back in the same place as he was before, except now he could barely walk, let alone run.

He turned a corner and yelped as he ran straight into a broken pipe, the thing barely avoiding his left eye, piercing his cheek painfully instead.

He stumbled, and before he could react, the weight of many toys was descending upon his. They clawed at his arms, bit his legs, scratching him all over.

And then one bit down on his already aching shoulder and he choked out a scream, his vision flickering from the pain.

He swayed, stumbling backwards, the room blurred together into a mix of grey, grey and, hey, that’s not grey-

His head slammed into the wall and on the way down, a distant thought passed through him,

That colourful thing looked... Oddly familiar.

Everything went black.

Chapter Text

Doey found themself pacing.

They were admittedly... Worried.

Safe Haven’s newest member and the only real human around, Chris, had disappeared without a trace and without telling anyone where he was going.

It had been hours since anyone had seen him last and Doey couldn’t help but be worried.

A few more laps later, they came to a stop, sighing. If he doesn’t show up in the next ten minutes, they’re going out searching for him.

.

Ten minutes came and went and Chris was still nowhere to be seen.

Doey ignored the churning feeling of dread in their nonexistent stomach as they got ready to leave.

They informed Poppy of their plan and, with Scout’s assistance, left through the main exit.

.

It took a while of wandering aimlessly and scaring mini critters for the fun of it before anything changed.

The sound of wood splintering and critters squealing reached their ears and they began wandering towards the sound.

The sound of a familiar voice yelping then screaming a moment later made Doey break out into a run.

They turned a corner just in time to see Chris, battered, bloody and swarming with wild toys slam head first into a wall and fall backwards.

They gasped, sprinting foward as they felt their dough shifting and twisting anxiously.

They got closer, opened up their mouth and roared.

Most of the tiny critters immediately scattered, but a few foolishly bold ones looked up at them with their glowing eyes and freshly bloody teeth and Doey felt anger start boiling within them.

They took a step closer, bending down and whacking a critter away. A few more toys ran off while two squealed, launching themselves at them.

They growled, hardly even feeling the tiny razor thin claws rake over their dough. They raised a hand, grabbing one of the critters and slamming it into the wall, the paint cracking and falling to the ground as the toy limped away.

The final toy was swatted away, flying and skidding to a stop where it squealed at them before running off.

Doey watched the hallway for a few moments longer, listening for any signs of a returning toy, their hands clenched into tight fists at their sides.

When nothing happened, they breathed a quick sigh before feeling their worry come flowing back, washing over them as they looked down.

And there he was, the one they’d been searching for, bloody and battered.

They bent down, “Chris? Buddy?” they gently shook him by the side, avoiding touching the bloody bandages and many cuts on his arm and shoulder.

When he did not so much as stir, they felt their worry double, a deep pit of dread forming in their gut.

They knelt at his side, rolling him over onto his back and placing their head on his chest.

Ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump...

“Thank goodness,” they whispered, lifting their head back up and scooping the human up carefully.

It was hard to think straight with the worry clouding their mind but the (albeit concerningly small) weight and warmth of him safely in their arms helped settle some of their nerves.

They stood slowly, carefully adjusting the human in their arms until they were somewhat certain he was comfortable, and began making their way back to Safe Haven.

.

Chris came to slowly, his brain feeling foggy.

He blearily blinked his eyes open, squinting and hissing as the light hit his eyes.

He dragged a hand down his face then paused. His skin felt weird...

He lifted his arm, which protested at the movement, making him wince. He stated at it, blinking slowly.

His hand, hell, his whole arm was covered in many differently coloured band-aids. He thumbed over the one on his palm, hissing when it stung.

“Hey, don’t touch that.”

Chris startled, head snapping up and out of the... Tent? He was in a tent, right?

He stared at the colourful creature before him, feeling confused.

"Do I... know you?” he whispers, watching the thing’s face morph between many expressions before settling on something akin to concern.

“Bud, that’s not funny,” they say, squatting down, he follows the movement with his eyes, “Don’t joke around like that. But, it’s me, your pal Doey.” They quirk a nervous smile.

“Oh!” He feels his mouth fall open in surprise, “Right! Doey!”

“Did-” they frown, “Does your head hurt at all, bud?”

Chris blinks blearily, finding that yes, his head does hurt, quite a lot actually, “Yeah,” he mumbles, “Feels like... Got hit with a brick... Thinking hurts.”

Doey makes a concerned noise, shuffling a tad closer, then they hold up an orange hand.

“How many fingers am I holding up?” they spread out their fingers but keep their thumb tucked in.

“Three?” Chris asks before laughing, “That’s such a silly thing to ask. You’re so silly, Doey.”

Doey smiles, but his eyes keep the same sad look to them and his smile falls too. Am I doing something wrong?

“You got it,” they reassure quietly, “Nice work, bud.”

He tilts his head, hissing and covering his face when the movement makes his head pound and his brain hurt.

“I’m- I’m gonna go get Medic,” Doey says and gets up, leaving before Chris can even process that they’ve moved.

.

“Yup,” the tiny red robot beeps, “Looks like a concussion to me.”

Chris lifts a brow, resisting the urge to pull away as the medical bot finishes shining a light in his eyes.

“Will- will he be okay?” Doey asks quietly, as though it were a secret.

“With time and rest, yes,” Medic responds, “The amnesia should also subside soon.”

They sigh in obvious relief, quirking a much more genuine smile, which Chris copies without even thinking.

“Well, bud,” Doey stands from where they were squatting at his side, and holds out a hand for him, which he takes, “Let’s get you somewhere darker and quieter.”

“Okay,” Chris grips the cool, malleable hand, following after them with squinted eyes.

.

If asked to describe it, he would say it felt like the first time it happened.

Like he got hit by a brick.

Except this time, it wasn’t fuzziness and pain, but an onslaught of thoughts and memories.

Chris winced, putting his head in his hands as he thinks, and finds that...

“Hey!” he grins, looking over at Doey who watches him with a concerned expression etched on their face, “I remember!” he exclaims.

“Huh? Wait- you do? Really?” they smile brightly, which Chris returns, giving a tiny nod.

“Okay, how did we meet?” they tilt their head, squinting at him.

“You...” he trails off, face scrunching up, “You ate someone right in front of me.”

To say that Doey lights up would be an understatement, they grin brightly, whooping and nodding and then-

Chris freezes up when cold arms wrap around him and pull him to an equally cold chest.

He sits still for a moment, blinking, before slowly lifting up his arms and hugging them back.

“I’m so glad you’re okay.”

Chris would be lying if the warmth in their tone didn’t make his eyes burn.

He proceeded to have to reassure Doey that yes, he was okay, and no, he wasn’t crying because he was sad.

Doey smiled down at him, giving him a gentle squeeze.

It was then that Chris decided, that at least for a while, he could pretend that everything was okay.