Chapter Text
Janet was seven years old and knew everything. She knew her mom paid the daycare lots of money to put up with her behavior, so she had the right to be a menace. She wore purple overalls and was the boss of daycare animatronics, especially Sun.
He was the first animatronic- first person rather, who told her to be nice when she played with the other kids. She stuck out her tongue and blew raspberries when she’d get scolded, but Sun never yelled at her like the adults did. He’d shake his head, chuckling to himself that he knew she wasn’t listening to him and then reminded her it was snack time.
They had a pretty good system. She’d rally some kids to the ballpit before making everyone’s lives worse and throwing the balls at everyone and every animatronic. Janet always knew where Sun was, and was prepared to attack at a moment's notice. Ballpit rebellions was the name Lunar came up with, and once she learned what a rebellion was, liked the word very much.
Which is probably why the little girl in overalls was particularly fussy throughout the week. She was simply inconsolable when Earth didn’t let her close to the ballpit.
The portal had been acting up again. Usually working hours were off limits, but more recently things started disappearing in the ballpit during the day and Moon determined the portal was opening small rifts. Sun made the final decision to close the ballpit off entirely. He just couldn’t risk a child going missing, never again.
Lunar focused on keeping energetic kids entertained with high energy games. Solar took batches of children to the theater just to keep the total count of kids lower. And Earth managed the ballpit and watched over the nearby playstructures.
Even Moon had dragged himself away from his lab to monitor the portal during opening hours so he could stay nearby in case something did happen. Sun of course was diligent the entire time, making sure the kids stayed far away from the hazard, but having Moon there made him feel infinitely better.
The precautions worked for a bit.
Most kids just accepted the odd new rule, but not Janet.
No, Janet would not conform to the overwhelming display of authority. The ballpit was her domain and she had the right to start a rebellion whenever she wanted.
She had been relentless in her pursuit. Every time Earth walked away from the rainbow bridge to help another kid, Janet was already running towards her prize. Luckily Earth was much faster than her tiny legs and stopped her every time.
Unfortunately in a daycare with well over its max capacity of children, there were bound to be a few that slipped through the cracks.
It was the end of the day and the check out desk was full of insistent parents signing their child out. Lunar was cleaning some mystery stain inside one of the playstructures. Earth was checking out the children with Sun to verify each parent at the pick up. Moon was at the security desk, boredly playing solitaire on the computer. It was nice, just normal end of the day busywork. But alas, the quiet never lasts.
Just when everyone felt like they could breathe again after the rush a loud, “Cannonball!” screeched through the mostly calm daycare as she jumped off the tower near the ballpit and into the sea below.
She landed safely and giggled as she watched the daycare animatronics scurry to get her out again.
“I win!” she smiled and waited for Sun to take notice of her victory.
The look on Sun’s face made her falter ever so slightly. There was no sarcastic admittance of her superiority, no slow clap or even defeated chuckle as Sun gave up lecturing her. Instead of Sun’s normally resigned demeanor, the little girl watched Sun’s face morph into terror as he jumped to attention and sprinted across the entire daycare.
She had never seen an animatronic run so fast.
Moon’s voice carried out a panicked, “portal!” declaration and soon every animatronic in the area was running towards her. It was then that she realized she was the last child in the daycare and there was now a weird fuzzy feeling that started at her toes and spread rapidly to her hands.
Sun reached her within seconds, diving in without a second of hesitation as a new disembodied voice shouted, “portal malfunction,” the second Sun had grabbed her, the world went black.
~~~
When she opened her eyes again it was dark. Janet’s small body was cradled in familiar arms, Sun’s normally friendly hug turned into a desperate hold as his head whipped back and forth to scan their new surroundings.
“where are we?” she rubbed her eyes, trying to bring back the daycare.
“Somewhere dangerous,” Sun never looked down at his charge, his eyes were rapidly scanning the sand at their feet and trees just beyond the place they landed.
Brown eyes not made for the dark squinted and blinked, trying her best to get a grip on where Sun stood. As her limited night vision cleared the abyssal darkness she tilted her head, “it’s just a playground,” she scoffed.
However, Sun was not paying attention to her annoyance, “no no nonono,” he whispered mostly to himself. He knew this park, not personally, but he’d seen the darkened playground on his channel before.
“Chill out,” the little girl rolled her eyes and wiggled to be free of Sun’s protective hold, “lemme go,” she pouted, “I saw swings.”
Sun seemed to finally remember she was there and didn’t falter his hold, “we need to be quiet,” his voice tried to be soft but cracked with anxiety. Once he spotted the dim lights of the cement building at the outer edge of the playground he booked it.
“Stop!” Janet cried, “I don’t need to go!” she struggled against Sun’s arms, “I wanna play!” she shouted again.
If animatronics had hearts, Sun’s would’ve stopped the second he heard rustling in the bushes nearby, “please,” desperation tainted his words, “don’t make a sound.”
With just how serious Sun was and the fact that all other ambient sounds in the park immediately silenced, the little girl started to realize something was wrong.
“New smell?” a glitchy deep voice came from the direction of the bushes and asked out loud, “who goes there?” the voice made Janet’s skin crawl.
With one more shaky breath Sun made it the last few steps to the fluorescent lights of the public restroom. Once inside he opened the largest stall at the far corner of the building. He sat at the very corner and kept himself between the door and the creature whose footsteps rang out with every step.
Just like a scary movie. Janet wasn’t afraid of scary movies, she was grown up enough to know that things on the TV weren’t real, but this was different. Now she was one of the characters on the screen with their mouths covered, lest they alert the monstrous being outside where they were.
Two other voices joined the first outside. The restroom didn’t have a door in the opening, so every word bounced off the walls, “hungry,” the lighter one said, “food?” the other chimed, “yes,” the original voice confirmed.
There was nowhere to hide.
The horror dimension, the one place Moon wouldn’t accidentally send him. Sun’s artificial breath stuttered as he tried his best to hide his unwitting charge.
The three beings just outside the doorway clawed at the low entry.
“Come out come out, wherever you are,” the Moon variant teased.
“Come out new friend, now,” the Sun demanded.
“We can smell yoooooou,” the lanky Eclipse drawled.
Not a single squeak came out of Sun who let the now shaking girl cling to his ruffles. Unlucky for the animatronic who could suppress a terrified yelp, the human child couldn’t. She heard nails against the cement blocks that surrounded them and she began to cry.
“There you aaaaaaare,” the largest of the three smiled wider as the blocks near the doorway began to crumble. With help of his lighter and darker brothers, the once sturdy building shook. The walls crumbled much easier now that the smell of organic fear spurred the three on. There was no metallic Moon who could convince them to look away, now that there was a confirmed meal hidden away.
Janet screamed as the roof caved in. One of Sun’s arms stayed raised above her head as rubble rained down so not a single bit of cement landed on her.
Sun sprang out of the stall once he had an opening. Now all five of them faced off in the open. Nervous hands covered Janet’s eyes from actually witnessing the lanky creatures before them. The little girl shook and gripped his ruffles so hard tiny nails ripped through the cheap fabric, even if he was paying attention, he wouldn’t have minded.
“Awwwwwwwww,” his counterpart whined, “only oooooooone.”
“Better than nothing,” his blue brother cooed.
“And a metal one,” the Eclipse tilted his head like a demented puppy, “like the other oneeeeee.”
“Get away!” Sun clutched his little star in his arms as tight as he could without hurting her.
The largest of the three smiled and then he then dipped his monstrous head low,, “metal needs not food,” he stated like he was prepared to take the little one by force if Sun didn’t give her up, “we do.”
“She's not food,” Sun took a breath, trying his best not to let his voice crack, lest the shivering girl truly believe her life was over.
“Silly metal,” Sun’s counterpart giggled as if he told a funny joke, “little morsel, still good.”
“Leave us alone,” Sun took a step back as the two younger monsters creeped forward, “I’m warning you.”
“So small,” the twisted Moon let his withering nightcap sway as his face tilted, “what will you do?” he got closer.
Before the order to charge could be given, Sun gathered what was left of his sanity and let his mere protective hold transform into a fiery promise.
Little eyes stayed firmly shut with the threat of untold monsters right in front of her. Janet tried to keep her cries quiet, but couldn’t stop fearing the darkness just a few feet ahead. That was until the cold retreated and in an instant the horrors of the abyss were silent in the face of overwhelming warmth.
“Ignis,” Sun’s voice found an almost unnatural calm as he lit his free hand ablaze with crackles of magic and fired at the giant Eclipse, “stay away” he commanded. The little girl opened her eyes to see flames surrounding her. She paid no mind to the monsters closing in, when all she could see was fire. One tiny hand released Sun’s ruffle and reached out to the brightest comfort she had ever known.
The roaring flames rose above the ground, swirling around her like a tornado. Little hands weren’t burned when she touched the fire. Sun hadn’t even noticed her eyes were open, he didn’t get to see the look on his charge’s face as orange flickered in her little crystalline eyes and tears dried up with her fear.
The reaction was instant. The mighty of the three fell to the floor and shrieked an awful sound of pain. His face scarred red from the flames, twisted as the beast seemed to realize their mistake, “run,” he told his two brothers. The twins stared at the little girl whose face was still turned away, tucked behind blazing flames and the protector whose resolve dared them to get closer. They stopped midstep, clearly weighing the danger of fire over the abyss of hunger.
“NOW” the eldest held his burning face with one hand and the other to the floor as he scrambled to rise again and meet his brothers.
Soon it was quiet again. The broken streetlights powered off one by one and the only light in the world was the Sun’s magic blazing bright, challenging the woods to try again.
The small notification ping on his HUD alerted Sun to the miracle that was Moon’s message.
>coms blckd
>nvm
>got it
>got sngl
>3
>2
>1
The familiar tugging at his chest was welcome this time around as the darkened world brightened and the daycare music filled the silence.
Sun was back in the ballpit with his traumatized star.
“Sun!” Earth was the first to greet the two.
“We’re okay,” Sun’s bravado slowly evaporated and all he could do was squeeze his little charge once more, “we’re okay,” he repeated as if saying it enough times would make it true.
The little girl in overalls with not a speck of evidence of what had just occurred wouldn’t let Sun go for a long time. What was only a few minutes in the horror world, felt like hours of agonizing breaths, wondering if the next would be her last.
Janet still wasn’t afraid of horror movies. She was grown enough to know the things on TV weren’t real. But sometimes in the middle of the night, when the wind was relentless, she’d hear the scratching of memories demanding to be remembered.
She didn’t start any more rebellions from then on. Even if other kids asked, she wouldn’t step foot in the ballpit. No matter how fun it would be to watch Sun try to scold her for making a mess and complaining about having to pick up all the balls she had thrown out, she wouldn’t go near the pit.
Nightlights were the new normal for the fearless girl.
The light had to be bright yellow, to remind her that fire beats the darkness every time.