Chapter Text
Sunshine’s processor was feeling strange again. Ever since she and Moonlight had separated she had been having these moments where her RAM became overwhelmed, seemingly at random, and left her memory spotty and CPU aching. Moonlight insisted that it was just her programming adjusting to existing independently, but Sunshine wasn’t convinced. Surely, if that were the case, Moonlight would be having processor issues too.
But Moonlight was fine. Better than fine. Moonlight was flourishing in his new body, off creating new scientific breakthroughs like portals and nanos and dimensional travel, all whilst leaving Sunshine in their old body with sole responsibility of the daycare and expecting her to be happy and grateful and not losing her mind with isolation god she just wants to talk to someone who will listen!
...anyway.
Everything came to a head roughly a year after the separation. Sunshine’s processor issues had been becoming gradually worse and the children were starting to notice. She would randomly slow down in the middle of play and clutch at her aching faceplate. She always bounced back, silly and excitable like normal, but there was an unseen weight beginning to press down on her shoulders. One day, though, instead of just a headache, Sunshine completely vanished.
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…
…
…
Nothing.
Then suddenly something.
He’s sitting at a small plastic table, knees by his ears, looking at a piece of paper. The paper has a drawing of four cartoon characters - a bear, chicken, wolf, and alligator. In one hand he holds a red crayon.
The lights are so bright. Overhead a looping upbeat song plays. He can hear children shriek in delight.
“Sunny! Sunny! What do you think of mine?”
A little girl holds up her colouring sheet, looking up at him for approval. Is he ‘Sunny’?
“...it’s lovely! I really like the glitter.”
No, he doesn’t think he’s Sunny. The girl’s smile fades just so.
“I’d hope so, silly. You’re the one who said I should make it sparkly.”
“I did. Sorry, I’ve been forgetful today.”
He looks back at the paper in front of him, at the crayon in his hand, and brings it down to colour.
“Sunshine, you’re doing it wrong! Freddy is orange!”
“Am I? Sorry-”
A scream, different to the rest, pierces through the daycare. He’s gone.
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Sunshine returned to the table after a kiss to a skinned knee and a reassuring cuddle. She’s confused to see her colouring page partially filled. She could have sworn she had just pulled it out when Brandon fell over.
“Sunny, are you okay?” Layla asked, glitter all over her hands, “You were being really weird. You used the wrong colours for Freddy and, and forgot that you gave me glitter!”
“There’s no such thing as using wrong colours when you’re colouring your own sheet Layla,” Sunshine said, sitting down, “I am sorry for worrying you, though. I’ve been feeling a little unwell recently. Nothing too serious. I’m going to ask my brother Moonlight to give me a check-up tonight.”
“Is he a doctor?”
Sunshine laughed at the thought of Moonlight in scrubs and a white coat. He would be an awful doctor. No bedside manner at all. Sunshine supposed Layla was right, though. He was the closest she had to a technician. He refused to let her see any of the human engineers since the separation.
“Kind of. Let’s get back to colouring now. You were going to show me your sparkly princess drawing.”
Sunshine swallowed down her fear and smiled. She couldn’t freak out right now. There were still five hours till the daycare closed for the day.
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“Moon! Moonlight I need help!”
Sunshine rushed through their living space in the tower. She stopped outside the tunnel to his room, hands flapping as she waited for him to either emerge or invite her in. The last time Sunshine had crawled through the tunnel without permission Moonlight had slapped her.
“What? Have you run out of bleach?” he asked, voice thick with condescension as he stepped out of the tunnel.
“No! I completely blacked out whilst looking after the kids. Layla said I was very confused. I couldn’t even remember what colours the Glamrocks are supposed to be!” Sunshine cried, “Moonlight please. Something is seriously wrong!”
Moonlight’s previously smirking face fell, genuine concern taking its place. He put an arm around Sunshine’s shoulders and steered her towards the balcony.
“Okay, okay. Something is wrong if you’re blacking out. Let’s go to the computer and have a look at your code, yeah?”
The pair portalled down to the daycare and sat behind the desk. Moonlight handed Sunshine the end of a cable, the other plugged into the computer.
“I want you to go into your mindscape and see if you can find anything amiss. From what you said, it sounds like there might be something more serious than just a glitch.”
“Alright,” Sunshine nodded.
She took a moment to get more comfortable before drawing inward, body slumping against the desk.
Sunshine’s mindscape was unusually detailed compared to the other animatronics she knew. A large open meadow filled with a mixture of colourful flowers, bright with warm sunlight. At the bottom of the field was a small patch of trees and a creek she could dip her feet into. It was a calm rest point compared to the chaos of the daycare, a place just for her. She spent more time here than she cared to admit.
Someone was sitting in the middle of the meadow.
“H-hello?” Sunshine called, wrapping her arms around her middle in a self-hug.
The person, another animatronic, turned around. They were a celestial model with a double set of rays, faceplate split between mustard yellow and tawny brown. The colours continued down their chest, similar to her own daffodil and butter cream detailing. They wore red and yellow striped jester pants identical to her own, but had no ribbons or ruffles.
“...hi.”
Their voice was very deep and gravelly, yet soft and unsure. A he?
“Who are you?” Sunshine asked, nervous.
“I’m not sure…” He looked up at her, faceplate tilted, “Are you Sunshine?”
Sunshine inched closer to the strange animatronic. He didn’t know who he was? Images flashed in Sunshine’s mind of her first power on, how eerily similar her questions had been to the technician on duty. What was going on?
His voice was startlingly monotone when compared to her own, with a flat affect.
“...yes. That’s me. How do you know my name?”
“That’s what the little girl called me. I’m happy to meet you.”
He smiled, eyes warm, and suddenly Sunshine wasn’t so nervous. She sat down an arms length away from the bot.
“You said you're not sure who you are. Do you know where you came from?”
He thought for a moment, hands wringing together.
“I think I’ve been thinking for about a year. It’s only in the last week that I’ve become myself, though.”
A week? Holy fuck, he- he was a new AI.
“About a year…” Sunshine sat ramrod straight, eyes sparkling. “You must have come from when Moonlight and I separated! Leftover personality code, maybe?”
“Moonlight?” he asked, brows furrowed, “That sounds familiar. Am I Moonlight?”
Sunshine laughed. She’d known this new bot less than five minutes and already she knew that he would never be anything like Moonlight.
“No, you’re not Moonlight. I think you might have come from him, though.”
“Oh.” He considered this, face serious. “Who am I, then?”
“You’re someone totally new. I’ve never heard of an AI developing out of leftover code before, but I suppose there must be a first for everything.”
“What should I call myself?” he asked, looking at Sunshine like she held all the answers.
Sunshine blushed at the attention. It felt good to be the source of knowledge for once, instead of the idiot trailing behind her brilliant brother.
“Well, if you’ve originally come from Moonlight and developed with me, that kinda makes you a mixture of us both. An eclipse of sorts… How about that? Solar Eclipse?”
His face lit up at the suggestion.
“I like that! Solar Eclipse.”
“Then Solar Eclipse you’ll be!”
The newly named Solar threw his arms around Sunshine and held her tight.
“Thank you!” he cried, so relieved to finally have some sense of self to cling to.
Sunshine returned the hug with equal enthusiasm, smile wide and eyes sparkling. Solar may have been physically bigger than her in the mindscape, but right now? When she looked down at the animatronic clinging so desperately to her, all she could see was a baby in need of love and support.
“It’s so nice to meet you, Solar! I’m really happy that you’re here. We’re going to be the best of friends, I just know it!”
Solar just clung tighter, burying his face in her shoulder. Sunshine waited for him to let go, gently carding a hand through his rays. She loved it when the kids fiddled with her own rays, and hoped that Solar would find it soothing as well. When Solar was ready he sat up and listened as Sunshine explained that, now that they knew the other existed, they should be able to co-front and share the body with less pain and confusion. She invited him to watch through her eyes whenever he pleased, and with a final hug, left to rejoin Moonlight in the present.
Sunshine sighed and stretched as she filtered back into full consciousness, so happy to tell Moonlight about their new family member.
“Moonlight! Moon, Moon, Moon you are not going to believe it but-!”
“You have a viral parasite,” Moonlight said, eyes glued to the computer screen as Sunshine’s code flew past, “It developed out of the code I left in you when we separated. If you give me a week I can write an anti-virus and get you back to normal.”
It felt like the world had stopped spinning. Sunshine looked at Moonlight with a horrible realisation.
“An anti-virus? What? No! I- he has a name, Moonlight! He’s called Solar Eclipse and he’s only just gained sentience and he needs us to support him, not - not kill him! How could you even suggest such a thing?”
Moonlight rolled his eyes.
“I don’t care what it’s named itself, it can’t be allowed to stay when it’s making you black out!”
“He’s scared! He’s, he’s like us! Like what we used to be. All alone in the world with no body to call his own.” Sunshine stood and began to edge away from the desk. “I won’t let you hurt him!”
Moonlight turned to face her, hands held out in a placating position.
“Sunny, calm down. I’m sorry. I can see that you’re fond of the- of Solar Eclipse. I won’t hurt them. Please sit down?”
Sunshine hesitantly leaned against the desk, as close to sitting as she was comfortable.
“I just, I’m worried,” Moonlight continued, “that you’re going to suffer more than just headaches as your new friend grows more complex. Just today you blacked out, right?”
“But that was before we knew the other was there. It was the same with us before we properly met.”
“If you would let me finish- I’m concerned that you’re going to start feeling pain like I did when you moved. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
Sunshine supposed that was fair, but even still. To suggest killing, what was by all accounts, a child over a possible potential to maybe do harm at some nebulous point in the future? It was absolute lunacy to her.
“Moonlight, I understand where you’re coming from, but I have a good feeling about this. About him. I just know Solar is going to be good.”
Sunshine missed the flash of rage and jealousy that shone through Moonlight’s eyes, mind preoccupied with thoughts of her new family member.
“If you say so, Sunny. But if it starts to interfere with the daycare I’ll have to do something.”
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The next day Sunshine could feel the familiar pressure begin to build behind her eyes. She’s sitting with a small group of children, helping them to complete a toy circuit, when she hears Solar from within her mind.
[That looks so cool…]
[If you’d like,] she thinks back, practised in holding two simultaneous conversations from years spent sharing with Moonlight, [when the kids have gone home you can try it for yourself.]
[Really?]
Even with the flat affect Sunshine can hear the smile on Solar’s face, the hope and the joy.
[Of course! I can even try and find some mechanical manuals for you to read.]
[I’d like that,] Solar said, and wrapped his code around Sunshine’s in a facsimile of a hug that was far more comforting than the real thing.
And so their new routine was established. During the day Sunshine would play with the children and Solar would pick out an activity he wanted to try. At night, after the daycare had been cleaned, Sunshine would retreat to her room and switch out with Solar to let him experience all the wonderful things sentience could afford them. It was such a wondrous thing for Sunshine, to sit and watch his young AI grow and learn with each passing day.
They quickly learnt that Solar was a dab-hand at all things building and machinery; cogs, circuitry, pistons, anything that allowed Solar to use his hands and get an immediate result. Sunshine’s room was quickly becoming overrun with his projects - watches and radios and tiny autonomous machines like toy cars. Sunshine wished she could give Solar his own dedicated space to tinker, but she knew that Moonlight would never allow it. He barely tolerated Solar’s existence at all. Moonlight had only ever met Solar once, and even then it was to demand to see his sister. He had a new nano development to test out and only Sunshine would do as his guinea pig.
With every day Solar became more curious. It was weeks later when they were laying together in the mind-meadow, physical body charging, that he asked a question that would fundamentally shift their relationship.
“Sunshine, what’s a ‘mom’?”
Sunshine shifted to lay on her side, faceplate propped up on a hand, to better look at Solar’s face. He was watching the cloudless sky with a furrow in his brow.
“Why do you ask?”
“One of the kids called you that today. Is it a bad thing? You said that he couldn’t call you that.”
“No,” Sunshine chuckled, “It’s not a bad thing. A mom is a kind of parent, an adult that nurtures and raises a child. Moms are often the closest person to their child, especially when they’re little like the ones at the daycare.” Sunshine’s other hand began to unthinkingly trace shapes into Solar’s rays. “Some people even believe that moms have an extra special bond with their babies because most grow them inside their own bodies.”
“Grow them?” Solar asked, vaguely horrified.
“Umhm, in a special organ in their tummy. All the humans we look after started as teeny tiny specks, smaller than a grain of sand, that grew with the help of their mothers’ bodies. Insane, isn’t it?”
Solar rolled this around his head for a moment, nodding along to Sunshine’s assessment.
“So that’s why the kids can’t call you mom? Because you didn’t grow them?”
“That, and it would make their actual moms very upset. Humans don’t like to share parenting titles like that. They regard roles and positions like that of ‘mom’ as sacred.”
Solar gave Sunshine a curious look.
“Aren’t you kinda my mom?”
Sunshine choked on her shock.
“What makes you say that, Solar?” she asked, genuinely curious.
“You look after me. You love me and I love you. You answer my questions and spend time with me and let me use your body to pursue my hobbies, and you protected me from Moonlight after we first met.” Sunshine didn’t know that Solar had been listening to that fight. God, how terrified must that have been? To have barely arrived and already have someone saying he didn’t belong? Her hand started to rub more insistently at his rays, wanting to reassure him of her love and protection. “And while it wasn’t in your tummy, I did kind of grow in you. I think it fits.”
For a moment Sunshine wanted to back-pedal the whole conversation, insist that she could not possibly be Solar’s mom - for if she were then Moonlight would be, by the same literal definition alone, Solar’s dad, and the implications of that are ones that Sunshine can’t think of without feeling sick. But then she looked down at Solar, sleepy eyed and lovely, and knew in her heart that from that first hug she had always thought of him, would always think of him, as her baby.
Recovered from her shock, Sunshine moved from petting Solar’s rays to holding his faceplate gently.
“Would you like to call me ‘Mom’?” she asked, voice soft and full of adoration.
Solar gave her a small, hesitant nod.
“I would.”
Sunshine scooped Solar up into a hug, oil gathering at the corners of her eyes.
“Oh, Solar! I would be honoured to be your Mom!”
Solar grasped at her blouse, tears of joy momentarily staining the fabric before vanishing, ephemeral in the mindscape. He sighed with his whole vent system, relieved and so, so happy.
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Life continued as normal for the pair - as close to normal as they could salvage from their limited existence under both Fazbear and Moonlight’s watchful eye. It was months later, almost a year since Solar’s waking, that their fragile routine crumbled.
[Mom, please. I can feel how exhausted you are. I can handle the children for an hour,] Solar begged. He could feel the way sleep gnawed at the edges of Sunshine’s awareness. It was his fault. He had been too focused on his most recent project, a tiny tin man that could walk around independently, and lost track of time. The body had not charged enough to run both of their AIs and Sunshine was suffering for it. [Go take a nap in the meadow.]
Sunshine looked out at the swarm of rowdy children that had been booked into the daycare that day. She was so tired of having to do it alone.
[Are you sure, Peanut?] she asked.
[Positive. How long have I been watching you do this? I’ll stick on a movie or something,] Solar asserted, kind yet firm.
[Alright.]
Sunshine sat down at the craft table and allowed Solar to gently pull her from the front, pushing her instead towards their meadow with a warm brush of code. Above her was a window that let her see out of Solar’s eyes, but it was ignored in favour of lying down in the soft grass. A small nap would be nice.
Solar similarly took a moment to adjust to being present in the body. The last time he had fronted solo during daycare hours had been the week he had woken up. It was a sensory nightmare then and it remained a sensory nightmare now. Looking out at the sea of hyper children, Solar decided on a course of action.
First, he queued up a calm movie to play. The selection was limited to direct-to-DVD Fazbear slop, a handful of older Disney films, and a few Ghibli movies. The age demographics at the daycare skewed a little younger today, so Solar bypassed the more artsy Ghibli options and picked Lilo and Stitch. Beautiful to look at and accessible to the smaller children.
Next, he turned off the awful looping daycare theme music and dimmed the lights. With a sharp whistle he had all the children’s attention.
“Okay kids!” Solar yelled, trying to imitate Sunshine’s higher energy way of speaking, “Come on down to the front near the desk! We’re going to watch a movie!”
The children cheered and assembled themselves on the play-mats in front of the screen. Solar quickly checked that all the kids were present and started to hand out blankets and pillows from the supply closet. Once everyone was comfortable Solar turned on the movie and joined the children on the floor. He had plugged the spare charging cable into one of the computers so he could syphon power whilst staying present with the kids.
Twenty minutes in, Solar received a message on the body’s internal comms.
Moonlight: why is the daycare so quiet?
Sunshine: I put on a movie so that Sunshine could sleep
Moonlight: what?
Moonlight: ‘so that sunshine could sleep’
Moonlight: you’re not Sunshine. what are you doing out during daycare hours? Sunny and I have an agreement
Sunshine: Sunshine agreed to swap for an hour so she could have a nap. It was entirely my idea.
Sunshine: As soon as the movie is finished I’ll wake her and we’ll switch back.
Sunshine: Sorry, I don’t mean to get in the way of your agreement. I just couldn’t stand to watch her struggle.
Moonlight went silent, no more messages coming through the internal comms. Solar’s rays spun as he worried about what that could mean. He knew he wasn’t supposed to be out, but could quietly watching a movie truly be counted as interacting with the children? Sunshine was happy to leave him in charge and as far as Solar was concerned, her permission was all he needed.
The end of the movie came quickly, Solar lost in thought. He didn’t want to wake up Sunshine to switch. He knew that Moonlight would be upset with her, and wanted to shield her as best he could from his anger. Sunshine would be upset if he let her sleep the day away, though, so with a heavy heart Solar retreated back into the mind-meadow.
Sunshine was already awake, refreshed from her nap and ready to return to the front. The body had perked up from the half-charge as well, no longer so heavy to inhabit. Their codes brushed against each other as they switched, a touch of hands in passing.
[Moonlight knows we switched. He’s really mad,] Solar said, sitting in the grass.
What? Sunshine quickly leafed through the chat logs and saw the conversation between Solar and Moonlight. She swallowed her panic.
[I’ll talk to him. Don’t worry Solar.]
[But Mom-]
[I’ll handle it,] Sunshine cut him off, firm but not unkind, [Please, Solar. Stay quiet and let me deal with this. You’ll be okay.]
She didn’t promise him. Couldn’t, not when she was so uncertain of what would happen.
[It’s not me I’m worried about…]
Time seemed to drag. The hours until the end of the day stretched ad infinitum, keeping Sunshine on a knife's edge as she played hide-and-seek and dress up and tag with the remaining kids, until finally the last child was picked up for the day. She waved him off with a cheery smile, dreading turning around. She knew she would have to. She couldn’t stay stuck frozen at the front door forever. Lord knows that if Moonlight thought she was stalling he would march down and pull her upstairs himself. So, with a steadying brush against her son’s code, Sunshine turned around. There, stood menacingly on the tower’s edge, was Moonlight. Arms crossed, shoulders square, pissed beyond belief.
Sunlight held back a shiver and made her way to the ball pit, portalling up to her brother. He pierced her with blood-red eyes.
“Moon-”
“We had a deal. You would look after the daycare, do your job, and I would allow you to let it spend time out in your room. What about that is hard for you to understand?”
Moonlight’s demands, that she had once found so reasonable, started to sound as suffocating as they had felt. ‘Allow’ her? As if her body was another one of Moonlight’s possessions, something he could control.
“You can’t-!”
“You must be stupider than even I give you credit for. Letting it out near the children? And to what- nap? I told you when it first emerged that I wouldn’t let it hurt you, and clearly it’s starting to mess with your judgement if you think napping during daycare hours is a good idea.”
“I just-”
Moonlight struck out and grabbed Sunshine’s wrist, fast as a snake strike.
“You do not know what’s good for you! So much of your time is dedicated to the by-product. Soon enough it’ll convince you to switch places entirely and you’ll be gone forever! I won’t let that happen!”
[MOM!]
With a harsh tug Moonlight had Sunshine stumbling forward. She fell into his chest. He reached to grasp at the back of her faceplate, clawed fingers digging into her rays as he scrambled for her motherboard cover.
“STOP! MOONLIGHT STOP IT!” Sunshine shrieked.
She hit Moonlight’s chest, aiming for the seams, hoping to pop a cover open. Moonlight hissed as she pummelled his torso. He could feel the metal plating on his chest begin to warp beneath the strain. He kicked out, sweeping Sunshine’s legs out from under her. She hit the ground hard.
Moonlight gripped her rays and faceplate with his claws and dragged her towards the sofa. She held onto his wrists with a vice grip, trying to take some of the pressure off her faceplate. One of her rays snapped off in his hand.
With a roar Moonlight threw Sunshine face first onto the sofa and climbed to sit on her back, pinning her in place.
“You’ll thank me for this!”
His claws found the edge of Sunshine’s motherboard cover and ripped it off, throwing the metal to the floor. Sunshine screamed. Above her, Moonlight pulled a USB from his arm storage and pushed it into her port. Pain, horrific agonising pain spread from her port all over her faceplate and down her body. She started to seize.
“You have a viral parasite,” Moonlight said, “Give me a week and I can write an anti-virus.”
Distant screaming echoed through Sunshine’s processor. Solar!
Sunshine gathered as much focus as she could spare and drew inward to her mindscape. She could still feel the pain in her motherboard, but it was distant. All around her, her mindscape was glitching. Meadow pixelating and reduced to simple polygons before snapping back to usual.
Solar was laid in the grass, screaming. His body glitched and seized, one moment his normal size, the next a tiny version of himself, no bigger than a small child. Thick oily tears streamed down his faceplate. Sunshine threw herself down to the grass and scooped him up into her lap.
“Solar!”
“M-m-mam-ma it-t hu-hurts-s-s!”Solar wailed.
He curled up, desperately clinging to her blouse and pants.
“Ma-mak-make-ke i-i-it st-o-oo-p! Mam-am-ma ma-ke-ke i-ttt-it sto-oooop!”
A new fire set alight in Sunshine’s core. Rage unlike anything she’d felt before. Her baby was dying in her arms and she knew exactly who was to blame.
Sunshine squeezed Solar tight, pressing teary kisses to his face.
“Mama will fix it,” she whispered, and forced herself to leave the mindscape.
Back in reality, Sunshine screamed as she felt every pulse of agony radiate from her port. Was this what Solar was feeling too? The realisation only served to make her angrier. Sunshine pulled her arms under her, endo shaking. With a monumental shove she bucked Moonlight off of her back. He hit the floor with a shriek. Sunshine followed him, faceplate cracking against the wood.
Arms still shaking, Sunshine reached up behind her faceplate and ripped the USB from her port. She threw it as hard as she could and watched as it broke against the wall.
Moonlight stood, shaking off his surprise, and stalked over to her prone frame.
“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?”
He kicked her in the side, leaving the metal plate below her blouse concave. Sunshine grabbed for his foot and pulled, claws digging into the ankle joint. Moonlight screamed and fell, snatching his foot back from her claws. Sunshine’s body still shook with aftershocks of agony, but her determination dulled the pain. She gripped the edge of the sofa and pulled herself up, running for the ladder up to the tower’s ledge.
“Computer!” Sunshine cried, voice thready, “Open the portal! Somewhere safe!”
“DON’T LEAVE ME!”
Halfway up the ladder, Moonlight grabbed at Sunshine’s legs and yanked. She locked her arms in place around the rungs of the ladder, joints creaking against the strain. The fury in her frame burned as she scrambled up onto the ledge and turned to kick Moonlight in the face. His faceplate shattered, spider cracks forming out from his cheek.
“Portal ready.”
“NO! YOU CAN’T TAKE HER FROM ME!”
Sunshine didn’t stop to think.
“Close the portal after me!”
Moonlight shrieked and clawed his way up onto the ledge. Half his faceplate was cracking off, motors and circuitry bare beneath the jagged edges.
Sunshine jumped off the edge down into the ball pit below.
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Moon was sitting at the daycare desk, playing a riveting game of solitaire. On the other side of the daycare Sun was standing by one of the play structures wiping down the outside of a slide.
“I don’t understand how they can get their sticky fingers this far up!” Sun cried.
Moon moved a card over on the screen.
“Fucked if I know.”
Above them the speakers burst on with a wave of static.
“Portal opening.”
Both bots stopped their respective tasks and looked up at the ceiling.
“A portal?” Moon asked, “Spaniard, what-”
The balls in the ball pit rumbled, as if someone had just jumped in. Sun and Moon both ran over. There, laying in the ball pit, was another Sun. Some of their rays were broken off, and their faceplate was cracked, but it was unmistakably a Sun. They wore jester pants and ribbons identical to the Sun standing over them, but instead of a shirt and vest they wore a white ruffled blouse.
“Help!” they whispered, voice high and nasally like Sun, but more feminine. She?
“Oh my God!” Sun cried and reached into the ball pit.
Each twin grabbed an arm and pulled the damaged Sun out of the ball pit.
“Portal opening,” Spaniard said.
The new Sun jerked, faceplate twisting in horror.
“NO! Don’t let him through!” she cried.
“Spaniard, block the incoming dimension.”
“Incoming dimension blocked and blacklisted.”
She slumped, relief clear in every inch of her frame. Sun and Moon looked at each other. What had happened to this Sun? Who was she so scared of? Sun offered her a hand up and wrapped a supportive arm across her shoulders, taking the majority of her weight.
“What’s your name? I’m Sun, if that wasn’t obvious, and this is Moon.”
“...Sunshine.”
“Let’s get you to parts&service, Sunshine. You look like shit, no offence,” Moon said, already posting a message to the group chat about their new guest.
“No!” Sunshine protested, “I can wait. Please, please look at Solar first!”
Sun looked behind her at the ball pit, checking to see if someone else had come through the portal with Sunshine.
“Solar? I don’t-”
“We share a body! Moonlight tried to kill him! He stuck an anti-virus in my motherboard!”
The realisation slowly dawned on Moon.
“Solar, as in Solar Eclipse?”
Sunshine lit up at the mention of his name.
“Yes! Please look at him! The last I saw he was dying in my arms and I-” Sunshine choked on her tears, oil spilling over her cheeks, “I can’t lose him. I can’t lose my son!”
“Son?!” Sun cried.
Moon ran a hand down his faceplate.
“Fuck. Things just got more complicated. Sun, you take Sunshine to parts&service. I’ll make a few calls and meet you there.”
Unsure about what exactly was happening, Sunshine let Sun lead them through the pizzaplex so similar to her own and down to parts&service.