Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

As someone who had seen the discreet zipper in the back of Mikes suit, this little green pippins leaving the Mike room when they thought nobody would see, and many other factors leading to his knowledge,

Mike was fake.

It was so obvious if you would really pay attention. All the factors of him just being a costume could be easily brushed aside as coincidence. If only Pluey hadn't seen Mike's head literally be separated from his body, replaced by a pippins head that'd been hiding inside. The sight wasn't pleasant, but thats what they get for sneaking into peoples rooms; unwanted sights.

He rarely ever saw this green pippins that plays the role of 'Mike' in the green room, or anywhere in TV world for that matter. Its like their entire life is just role-playing, to spare their co-workers from the wrath of Tenna when he gets 'ignored'.

He questioned why they did this, theres no way they do it just to keep Tenna happy. He didn't see them much out of costume, but they looked terribly malnourished, all for this little act. They had eye bags, bruises and scratches due to causes unknown to Pluey, and they were unhealthily skinny. He saw them suffering, and did nothing but watch, not knowing how to approach the situation because he wasn't supposed to know all this.

Mike had left his room almost an hour earlier than he usually did, and Pluey needed fake fur for one of his own little projects. Considering almost their entire life revolved around this costume, surely they have some spare material. He had stolen from them before, never anything major or enough for them to notice, just unimportant unused things that he could recycle. Stealing was the first reason he'd even started bothering them.

They'd left the door unlocked, they probably just forgot to lock it with how early it is in the morning. He turns the knob and lets himself in casually, then goes to their closet where they probably keep spare supplies out of the way, or something.

Almost immediately after he spreads the folding doors of the closet open, he hears footsteps coming towards the entrance of the room. He must've forgotten to fully close the door, otherwise he wouldn't have heard them coming. He quickly crams himself into the closet, closes the doors, and turns the closet light off. After about a minute of Mike just standing in the middle of the room with paranoia, he spoke.

"Listen, I know someone is in here, just make this easy for both of us. If there's something you need, I can give it to you myself." Either they are just really paranoid, or they know someone is in their room, and is trying to lure him out the easy way. Luckily he has played hide and seek enough to not fall for this trick, as well as just having common sense.

"...Okay." They murmured after a long pause, and Pluey silently released a breath he didn't realize he was holding, relieved that he can go another day undiscovered. Unfortunately, their luck seems to have been used up already on past close calls, as he hears them stepping closer to the closet.

His mind went wild with fear and panic, careful not to make a single noise or movement. This is easy, he's a shadowguy, so he's mostly hidden as long as they don't turn the light on. They open one of the folding doors, and kneel to search through the pile of stuff, barely seeing with the little amount of light coming in from their room.

Then he notices that they just so happen to not only be out of costume, but also in nothing but boxers. Out of shock, they accidentally let a small whimper slip. The pippins freezes, and glances up at the source of the sound.

"ACK-!" They quickly jump back like a frazzled cat, and slam the closet door shut. He'd been caught.

"Who-..." They stuttered, "WHY are you in my closet?!

Pluey struggled to explain, sputtering jagged saxophone notes. He didn't even care that they probably couldn't understand anything he was saying because they're a pippins, not a shadowguy.

"Yeah I caught none of that." They sighed from outside the closet, and Pluey completely discarded the message. He continued rambling, now just to maybe give them the impression that he had a good explanation, and they just couldn't understand it. He sat and pressed himself into a corner of the closet, hoping the wall would just swallow him up.

The pippins opened the door infront of Pluey, and just stared, looking him up and down as if they couldn't believe it. They still didn't seem to have put on any clothes, only holding a blanket wrapped around them. Pluey just stared into their fearful eyes, hoping they would say something, or do anything. Kick him out, fight him, anything but their eyes piercing into him.

They didn't say anything, but they turned the closet light on and grabbed a few items from the pile of stuff with their hand that wasn't holding the blanket in place. They flipped through the sketchbook they'd grabbed to a blank page and held it out to him, along with a sparkly pink gel pen. He kinda wanted to steal this pen more than he wanted the craft material.

"I get its not ideal, just explain why you're here. I'm not letting you out of my sight until I get atleast something." They murmur, probably not trusting that Pluey could keep a secret. He basically had their life in his hands by knowing Mike was just a costume, and would never dare tell anyone. Anyone except his harmless close friend, obviously.

Battat murmured something about name and pronouns that Pluey mostly drowned out while he wrote, but one thing caught his attention. "—what I can do so you wont tell anyone about...the thing." He could ask for anything right now and they'd just...do it? He was at a huge advantage, this pippins was desperate.

He'd explained most of the important details of himself on the page, and decided to make a small doodle on the bottom of the page, discreetly glancing up at them a few times so he could draw them accurately.

"Why do you keep looking at me?"

Maybe not as discreet as he thought. He just smiled apologetically, and finished the sketch of them as accurately as possible without peeking at them. He drew his 'mikesona' next to them, like a cat version of Mike. Then he went back to writing, to answer the question of what they had to do so Pluey wouldn't tell anyone about their costume.

He sighed, and decided not to request anything, not wanting to come off as greedy. He really just wanted to be on good terms with them, and maybe even be friends. He also admitted that he was stealing from them, and that's why he was here. They probably wouldn't be happy about it, but its better than trying to explain that he was interested in their way of life without sounding like a stalker.

He skimmed over his words once, before holding the sketchbook out to the pippins. They flinched a little, as if they'd been zoned out for a bit, probably stressing about how much Pluey could really affect their life. They took the sketchbook from his hands, and 'accidentally' forgot to take the pen from him.

Pluey watched their expression as they read, their brows furrowed seeing how much he really knew about them. "Yeah, you got my name right...somehow." They murmured, and continued reading. Pluey had heard them talking to themself before, seemingly reffering to themself as Battat, but he wasn't completely sure if it was really their name.

Battat's expression softened slightly as they read lower, relieved that Pluey didn't want much, but they were still tense. They didn't even seem to care that he'd intended to steal from them, too caught up in the anxiety Pluey caused them. Their expression tensed again, seeing the doodles at the bottom of the page. Did he draw them wrong? Did they think his mikesona was weird?

"No I dont have any uh.. fur. Sorry." They murmured, not saying anything more about the note. He considered asking them what they thought of the art, but then he'd just be fishing for compliments. Still, he stressed that they didn't like it.

"I do know a bit of sign language though. I'm not good at doing it myself, but I can understand most signals." Okay, that was good. That could make communicating alot easier. Pluey sat a little straighter, and signed 'can we be friends?'

"Um..yes, yeah we can be friends. That is what you said right?" Pluey nodded in response.

"For now though, can you like...leave?" Battat requested, and Pluey quickly complied. He carefully stepped over the small mess infront of him to exit the closet, and headed for the door. He really just had his first face-to-face conversation with the guy he's had an eye on almost ever since they first showed up. He glanced once more at Battat, who was picking at a loose stitch on their blanket, and exited the room.

Chapter Text

So much had happened so fast. He'd only really asked for be friends because he found them interesting, but he found himself pleased at the thought of him hanging out with them like normal friends. Mike was interesting, Battat was interesting, maybe more than Mike. Pluey had only asked to be friends so he could know more about the two.

Is that even how friends are made? Just because you ask to be friends, the bond isn't immediately there. With how paranoid Battat clearly is about people knowing this much about them, it might be hard to get them to open up and talk casually.

Battat was still in the Mike room, maybe Pluey could pop back in for a short conversation? Just to clear up a few things. They'd have to leave to do Mike duties soon, with the stress that he caused them. He would never even think to share their secret with anyone but his close friend, because Pluey told them everything. He found himself back at Mike's door, knocking softly.

"Pluey?" They sounded hesitant saying his name, like they weren't sure how to pronounce it.

"(^^)" He spoke a high, whimsical note, confirming their suspicion.

"I dont recall ever locking the door after you left, come in." Pluey pushed the door open and let himself in, their gaze lingering on Battat sitting on the floor with a hoodie on and the costume laid out infront of them. He wanted to talk with Battat like friends, but hadn't thought of anything to say (or write) yet. He sat against the wall beside the door.

...

"Are you gonna do anything?"

He wanted to do something, but wasn't sure what. He shook his head.

"Then why are you here?"

Pluey shrugged bashfully, hoping he hasn't wasted their time with his failed attempt at productive interactions. Battat gave him a confused glare, glanced over at their alarm clock, then returned their gaze to him.

"I'm not leaving you in here while I assist Tenna." They said, trying not to sound too rude about it. They probably didn't trust him, which was fair, and he felt guilty for all the other things he'd stolen from them, even if its just small untouched trinkets or some craft scraps they'd intended to throw away.

He whined silently, but didn't object to Battats request because its their room, and their boundaries, and his fault they don't trust him.

"And speaking of assisting Tenna, I've gotta do that now. Well, not really now, but I always go early." Pluey already knew this about them. He watched as they got up and picked the costume up by the sleeve, then dropped it back onto the floor, and looked at Pluey, their cheeks a light pastel green.

"...And that means leave...like now." They murmured and lifted an arm to motion to the door. Pluey quickly complied, slightly embarrassed by not understanding what Battat had been trying to say before they said it directly.

Pluey went on to enjoy his last bit of freetime before he'd have to help out on set as well. He hated the taste of coffee no matter how much creamer was in it, but drank it anyways because he found his work quite boring and didn't want to doze off on the job, also energy drinks cost POINTS, coffee is free to employees.

Pluey sat on a couch in the green room with his coffee he forced himself to drink, and his sketchbook. He dug in his bag for a pencil, but pulled out the sparkly pink gel pen from Battat. Technically he didnt steal it because they gave it to him and never asked for it back, so its his. Even though its pretty, it can't erase and isn't good for sketching. He drops the pen back into his bag and found the mechanical pencil he often used, and flipped to an empty page of his sketchbook.

"What'cha drawin'?"

"Σ(; ﾟДﾟ)" Pluey yelped, glancing up at where the voice had come from. His friend was leaning above Pluey, looking down at Plueys sketchbook.

"Ah, sorry, did I scares ya?"

"(｀Δ´)" He pouted, somehow he never got used to Jongler sneaking up on him like they did everyone. They moved over to the armrest of the couch, and placed a hand between Pluey's rabbit ears, immidiately earning forgiveness.

"Dunno what to draw?" They looked back at his sketchbook, the page he had turned to was still blank. Pluey nodded.

"Art block or jus' haven't thought a' anythin' yet?"

Pluey held up two fingers, indicating the second option.

"Draw me." Jongler joked, knowing Pluey would refuse. Pluey would probably refuse.

"(｀ー´)" Pluey grumbled, and moved so they couldn't see what he was drawing. Jongler tried to subtly lean over to see, but Pluey pulled his sketchbook to his chest when they got close.

"( ･`ω･´)" He held the book up to them, showing them a very poorly drawn zapper, the word 'stupid' was drawn next to it and had an arrow leading from the word to the zapper.

"Hehe—hey! I's not stupid!" They said affectionately, putting a forceful hand on his shoulder giving him a playful noogie between the ears. Pluey giggled, and grabbed their wrist to attempt to push away, which didn't work of course. Jongler pat them on the head twice, before releasing him and slithering to sit next to him on the couch.

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The two darkners chatted while Pluey drew in his sketchbook, occasionally writing words he couldn't express with his voice. Jongler had adjusted to understanding how he felt based off his noises, but couldnt understand actual words. Pluey couldn't tell them about his day or ask for something verbally, for more specific things he'd have to write them down or use body language. He'd tried teaching Jongler sign language, but they got stressed because they couldn't understand, so Pluey left it alone.

He glanced at the clock, and noticed he'd have to be helping out on set in less than 2 minutes. He stood up and shoved his sketchbook into his bag.

"Hey, where's ya goin'?"

Pluey frantically pointed at the clock on the wall, before rushing away.