Chapter Text
Fazbear Entertainment Company knew what their biggest problem was at the moment, it was practically glaring at them in the face daily as thousands of complaints and bad reviews rolled in. The problem was the daycare attendant.
Adults hated it, employees constantly quit because they refused to work with it, and more importantly the children it was programmed to take care of were frightened of it. Its sole design existed to appease children, to have nurturing and playful characteristics so the kids did not feel watched over but instead felt as if they were just having a play date. In theory, it should have worked but the idea of a lone animatronic, towering above everyone that encountered it along with the personality that mimicked that of a clown, it isn’t hard to see now where this idea had failed.
What were they to do about this issue, scrap him? No, they couldn’t do that, not only because of just how insanely expensive it was to build and the giant loss the company would take from that, but they also had to take into account its unique build that couldn’t easily be scrapped for parts for the other animatronics upgrades. Unlike the Glamrocks or simply just the S.T.A.F.F. Bots, their design is ten times more intricate. All of the ‘personality’ animatronics had the AI capability to learn but that’s where the similarities truly ended.
The daycare attendant was given a different type of endoskeleton, one that can give them more agility than the others. Soft padding was placed over the endoskeleton that would make it safe when children interacted with it, and it had twice the responsibility. As well as intricate programming that took years to write code for compared to any other of the animatronics to make sure child safety was its top priority. No, they couldn’t scrap it, they would be losing way too much.
So what were they to do about this situation? Easy. To figure out their next step all the company had to do was look at other large theme parks in the country. They had creepy mascots and characters too but with a difference, they were almost always accompanied by a handler. Sure the princesses and superheroes didn’t need a handler but they were human. The anthropomorphic costumes freaked out the children, but with a human handler escorting them around it brought a human touch back into it and helped relieve some of the creepy tension, making them more approachable, and ushering back in the cartoonish charm their designers were aiming for during their creation.
While the solution may have been an easy one to make, executing it was not as easy. It was hard finding someone willing to fill that role. Person after person entered the interview, seemingly excited about the job, but then they would meet it for the first time.
They made sure to have each interview end with a little meet and greet with Sun, as opposed to Moon whom they correctly guessed would scare the potential hires off even quicker, but each meeting ended the same way regardless. One right after the other the interviewees raced out the door once they reached the meet and greet portion, even the ones who swore up and down that no matter what they were desperate for the job.
Week after week they continued the arduous process of interviewing candidates, a few even made it to on-the-job training. There were even some impressive candidates they thought would fill the role perfectly due to their previous job experience as performers and theme park handlers. As always though before they could officially hire anybody they all walked out, leaving the company to start the process of interviews all over again.
Eventually, they landed on your resume. A small single page compared to some of the larger or more impressive resumes they started with, but at this point, they can’t be too picky. The resume lacked any schooling or degrees and it listed only a few jobs that all consisted of waitressing at different establishments. Then they read the very last line and practically had dollar signs in their eyes as they realized that they just struck gold, you had worked ten years in a circus troupe.
They just found their golden candidate who could not just assist but also be a true star of the show alongside their animatronic, and they would not let this candidate slip away so easily.
They pulled out all the stops for your interview, or at least as much as the corporation would realistically allow. So when you arrived at the interview they offered you a large array of beverages like soda, water, coffee, or juice before whisking you off towards a conference room. Usually, most of your interviews have been in the back of some dingy restaurant manager's office, in bleak windowless rooms that suffocated you with their musk, or even just at the front of the restaurants in one of the booths with disinterested-looking men reading off questions in a monotonous tone. It may have been just a cheap gesture to give the illusion that they care more even though it was the bare minimum of schmoozing but regardless you were ashamed to say it was kind of working.
After months of panicking about bills, barely avoiding eviction, a few dodgy days without electricity, and the hundreds of wasted hours spent on interviews that went nowhere you had to admit it was kinda nice to experience these little luxuries. A small part was even just giddy as you sat down in the nice wide wooden chairs that had plump padding on the seat that made it so much more comfortable to sit on than hard plastic. Plus the windows were open letting in a nice warm breeze that just filled your heart with happiness.
You knew the men sitting across you had fake smiles plastered across their faces as they reached across to shake your hand before you sit down across the wide table from them. You pushed aside the thought as your day brightened up even more as they pushed a box of doughnuts over to you that you immediately took to make up for your lack of breakfast.
“So to start off we just have to ask you,” The middle man across the table started with a wide grin as you shoved another doughnut in your mouth “Ten years in the circus?”
“Mmhm” You mumbled out around your delicious sugary treat, “Joined when I was around twelve."
“Perfect! We really think you would be a nice fit for this position as the animatronic handler. You see we have had some slight issues with staff getting along with it but nothing to worry about especially with your background. It kinda acts like, well, um, fellas how would you describe it?” He motions to the men on either side of him as they each quip up with their own descriptions.
“A jester?” One offers up as the main man hums in agreement.
“Yes! Like a clown, it’s very clown like I would say.” The other man jumps in.
“Exactly, thank you, gentlemen. It’s a bit unnerving for most people but I am quite positive someone with your background will do just fine with that creepy stuff. I’m sure you worked with plenty of horrifying creeps and freaks, am I right?” His smile has yet to waver and the mocking laugh he ends his question with along with the other men following suit with their own degrading laughs is starting to get on your nerves.
The charms of the little gifts and pleasantries have started to wear off. Now it's much easier to see them as not nice or charming but as salesmen. These are professional salesmen whether their job descriptions are actually public relations, business manager, etc. Their jobs were to sell their company and right now their job was selling this position to you which they openly admitted they were having problems with.
Their first big mistake was thinking you would laugh along with their jokes about the other performers you spent a decade with. The second was thinking you couldn’t see right through them, sure you accepted the treats, but you knew you held the power. Their third and most damming mistake was it. They kept referring to their animatronic as it.
You’re not sure why that two-letter word was digging its way into your skin every time they said it but it did. You knew this company, or at least you knew the restaurant and thus the animatronics inside of it. They all seemingly had personalities, big ones at that, and smart A.I. that they took every chance to brag about on the news as their PR team truly worked overtime for the company. The way they spoke about their animatronic as an object turned the energy in the room slowly, prickling your skin. Taking a deep breath you pushed your concerns aside to reply.
“Um yea it won’t be a problem, and I wouldn’t say they were creepy at al-“
“Perfect, see I just knew you would be a perfect fit for this role.” He rudely interrupts you again. “With your background, we would also like to change up the position a bit from handler to performer. You would still accompany it and do the normal job but start offering some fun performances with you and the animatronic on top of the normal job. Of course, we will offer a bit more money to your salary for this as well so don’t worry about that.”
“Oh.” You were shocked, you never made it to a full-fledged performing role in your circus trope as by the time it shut down you were still an apprentice.
You had been training and filling in roles but had yet to become a full-time performer in your own right. You did have the specialties you were working towards more like acrobatics and trapeze work but despite how good you got you never did it solo, without your trusted mentors by your side to correct you.
“If you sign on with us today you’ll start up as just the basic handler until we have our lawyers look over the specialty contract you’ll need for the type of work we want you to do.” He ends by turning to the other men to point to their papers and talk about notes as he thinks about contracts.
You let them drone on as you were swept up in the nostalgia of your family at the circus that you missed dearly. Part of you wanted this opportunity, a chance to feel the overwhelming joy you had used to receive while entertaining crowds of people and more importantly the bright smiles you brought to children. Your head was swimming as you thought through everything, mind contemplating every angle of this new opportunity. You originally just wanted a job but now the perfect job has seemed to just fall into your lap, but nothing in your life was ever quite that easy.
For starters you did not become a full-fledged performer, how could you suddenly jump from apprenticing to doing full-blown shows, especially without your troupe behind you to encourage and support you? You weren’t sure you were ready for that responsibility, and the fact employers of the company so openly mocked your previous profession and friends in front of you made your skin crawl. You doubt they would take the proper precautions when it came to the big performances you were used to.
This shouldn’t be a hard decision though, right? You need a job, that makes money, to pay your bills, and not lose your shitty apartment. This job just so happens to involve the things you love most in the world, performing and making children happy. Something wasn’t quite right though, and your anxiety was not making it any better. Your head was racing as thoughts all shouted out across your mind debating every angle possible and you were sure your body was frozen in front of the men. From what little you could focus on outside your brain it doesn’t seem as though the men have even noticed your situation as they talked among themselves.
“Well then,” The middle man's sharp clap of his hands jolted you back in “We don’t really need to go over too much for the interview part, instead we would love to jump ahead to introductions to see how that all goes.”
Before you could respond they got up and started escorting you to a door connected to the conference room. They were talking more about the job on the short walk but you’re mind was elsewhere. As you reached out to open the handle the main man grabbed onto your wrist, another shock running through you at the suddenness.
His face was still plastered with a saccharine smile but his eyes were filled with fear. Funnily enough, this bizarre smile filled with horror was a rather familiar sight to your eyes from the array of faces in the crowd of shows you would take mental snapshots of for your internal emotions scrapbook.
“Just picture it as a clown, ok? And don’t turn off the lights.” He backs up and releases his grip on your arm. "You'll do great kid, we know you got this."
Your eyes scrunch together as you watch the gaggle of grown men in suits squirm with discomfort at even the thought of what lies beyond the door. Sure you never saw Sun or Moon in person before but you've seen them plenty on the near-constant commercials or news broadcasts praising their technology. They weren't even scary if memory serves you right, you knew plenty of scarier-looking clowns, and they were always the most down-to-earth and kindest people you knew.
Rolling your eyes you slowly open the door, yelling at yourself internally as your body reacted to their fear causing you to sharply inhale as you enter. Just as you remember him, the bright yellow animatronic sat on top of a table in the conjoining conference room. Well maybe not quite as you pictured, he was much bigger and taller than you ever imagined he would be. You could only imagine how colossal he was next to the children.
His head swayed back and forth as he swung his long legs in front of him while humming. It doesn't appear that he has noticed your presence yet. You carefully try to close the door behind you to give you some relief from the sharp watch of the men in the doorway, anxiously awaiting some sort of reaction. Try as you might, the large door still let out a loud bang when it clicked closed.
You turn just in time to watch Sun jerk and jump off the table to back up while curling his arms around himself anxiously. Your mouth pulls in guilt as you watch him.
"Hello, fri-" He starts to shout out with an arm raised out to you before he pulls it back with his other and curls his palm against his faceplate. "Sorry, sorry. You have to be good sun, you have to behave sun."
He mutters out the latter more to himself as you watch with furrowed eyebrows. He is shifting his weight side to side, seemingly locked in a sort of loading screen moment, and his limbs start to raise like he figured out his next move before pulling back again.
"It's Sun, right? My name is Y/N." You start approaching slowly to not frighten him further.
You can't be sure what this poor animatronic had been through but clearly, it wasn't good if the degrading mutters under his breath were any indication. He doesn't respond, still stuck like a broken record player, so you try repeating your question a little bit louder. He notices this time and his face slowly raises to tilt his head at you.
"Yes, yes, yes. You can call me Sun, or Sunny, or Sundrop, or Sunbeam, or-" He starts to ramble on a million different variations of nicknames while nodding frantically, and you laugh knowing you'll have to cut him off if you'll ever get him to stop.
"Ok let's stick with Sunny, I think it's a super cute name." You smile brighter once you see his rays twirl around his head at your statement.
He rushes closer, again you scold yourself at the sharp gasp you let out at just how quickly he crosses the room, and his hand softly grasps onto yours in between you two.
"Yes! I would like that very very much. Does this mean we are going to be friends?"
"Definitely, especially if I come to work with you, Sunny." You delight in the way his plush fingers feel as you grip them but he slowly pulls his hands away and curls his hands up to his chest.
"Oh, that's right. Job, job, it's all about the job Sun. Don't scare the employees' Sun. Don't mess this up again Sun. You can't be trusted Sun. They can be trusted Sun, not you Sun." He starts pacing around again, hands wringing together and clawing at his chest as you try to wrap your head around what is happening.
"Sunny?" You're watching him closely, heart sinking at the way his voice box becomes more staticky as he desperately chokes out his words.
"I promise I'll be good. I won't be scary or too loud or too clingy or too much. I promise." He sounds so soft and sad as he curls his limbs in more to make himself look smaller.
"Who told you those things Sunny?" You have to gulp back the emotion building in your throat as you watch him.
His face turns slightly to look at the door behind you and you quickly connected the dots that apparently management truly only sees them as objects to verbally degrade when things aren't working for the bottom line. Your fists clench and pop in your anger and you take in a heavy breath to calm yourself.
You have felt angry plenty of times. You sure felt angry when small-minded locals would come through and terrorize your troupe. You felt angry every time you were denied entry-level work without even being given a chance. This anger though was something akin to the reason you left your original life behind in the first place.
"Sunny those guys," You motion behind your shoulder and firmly grip his hands in yours. "Are assholes. All those workers who treated you badly were assholes. Fuck them."
"LANGUAGE!" He quickly screeched out and you wince a bit as his hands reflexively gripped yours harder.
His eyes flex wider as he hears his loud voice bounce around the room and he jumps away from you to cower as he watches the door handle turn.
"Is everything-"
"We're fine" You quickly bite out and look over your shoulder to stare the man down.
He takes a moment to look over at Sunny as he hesitates in the doorway but nods and closes the door again. You inhale deeply to calm yourself and slowly kneel down next to Sun's crumpled form against the wall.
"Sunny? It's ok they won't bother you, I promise."
"No no no, I screamed at you. I'm not supposed to scream." He shakes his head repeatedly and refuses to look at you.
"No no it's ok Sunny, I deserved that. I spent most of my life surrounded by foul-mouthed carnies. I guess I have some bad habits I need to work on." You laugh trying to break the tension.
Your smile grows softer as you see him look up at you but he doesn't speak up again. You let the silence linger on a bit as he calms down and think about any way you can help him out. You trail your eyes down his outfit and get a bit lost as you take in all the intricate details and patterns. His pleated peplum brought back vivid images of familiar fabrics and the lightbulb in your brain goes on.
"Hey, would you like to see a little trick I can do?"
His head tilts in response but watches you very attentively so you take that as a yes.
"Ok, uhm, hmm." You hum as you search around the room to find anything hand-sized. "Ah ha!"
You crawl across the floor a bit to grab three different erasers from the sill of the whiteboards mounted on the wall. You shuffle your way back over and lean up onto your knees as his head shifts side to side as he watches you.
Your hands clasp onto the erasers as you try to find a good grip. You throw up the first, positioning to throw the second but fumble as you get used to their square shape as opposed to the round balls you were used to. You try to start up again but fumble once more and the erasers fall onto the ground. How professional you grumbled in your mind, getting a bit embarrassed over your rusty skills.
"Shit." You quickly spit out as you lean down to snatch them but your eyes widen as you realized you slipped. "Fuck, I mean shit, ahh sorry! I am so sorry I promise I'll get better."
You look up at Sunny apologetically but he chuckles while shifting to sit more relaxed against the wall. "It's ok, keep going."
You hum as he seems to be relaxing around you. You're happy to be the clown for once if it means he cheers up. With a steadying breath, you start back up again and manage to juggle the erasers.
He leans forward while cooing, faceplate approaching closer to the arch's range to watch your hands shuffle, toss, and catch the small objects. You only do a few rotations before letting them drop, not even bothering to attempt to hold them all at once again.
He immediately starts clapping his hands once you finished your little performance and you giggle while playfully bowing. “Oh thank you, thank you so much!”
“That was amazing!” He starts bouncing in front of you and scoots closer to pick up the erasers to try tossing them himself.
“Oh, that was nothing but a party trick, you should have seen the real jugglers I worked with. They could throw anything. Knives, bowling balls, lamps. Actually, now that I think about it, you could probably toss like three of me.” You joke, pushing towards his metal arms that don’t budge a bit with your nudge.
“Yes, teach me! You have to teach me, please please please.” His head spun again, and your heart warmed at how happy he was when he was at ease.
“Absolutely, we will have plenty of time during work for me to teach you.”
"So that means you'll work with us?" He quits down again and sits still as he waits for your answer.
"That depends, will you let me work with you knowing I have a sailor's mouth? I promise I will do my best to work on it, and I swear I am great at not slipping in front of children so you don't have to worry about that."
"You.. you want to know if we want to work with you?"
"Of course, you guys have been the ringmasters of the daycare from day one. I respect the chain of command."
He shifts in front of you in thought, his hands clasping each other as he thinks. You can tell he is clearly conflicted and you wouldn’t blame him a bit with what has been happening to him.
“What do you want Sunny?”
“What do I want?” He looks confused and distracts himself by running his fingers along the bumpy ridges of the eraser in his hand.
“Yeah, I mean I would completely understand if you don’t want another coworker after the way you have been treated. I wouldn’t even blame you if you didn’t want to share the spotlight and perform with me. I just want you to be happy, and I want someone to give you a choice for once.”
“I, we want you to work with us. Please I promise I’ll be good!” His shoulders scrunch up as he curls back down and you sigh. This was a start but you knew it would take a lot more time and reassurances to get him to fully trust you.
“And I promise,” You slowly take his hands back in yours and purposeful stare at him. “That I will try my best not to swear, I promise I will always try to do my best, and most important I promise I will always respect you.”
His smile grew more as his inner cheeks pinched and he quickly pounced forward to loop you into a large hug. You are a bit surprised at just how soft he is to hug and find yourself happily nuzzling in. You can feel the soft whir of his internal fans spinning and find it as soothing as a box fan in the window during summer nights.
“Yes! I want that, we want that, please be our friend!”
“I think we are going to be really good friends Sunny.” You hum against his chest, feeling his fingers curl into your back.
You don’t want to leave him, especially now that you are terrified to imagine what goes on between management and him behind closed doors. But you had power, they were desperate and you knew the request your mind has been brewing up would be quickly granted. Reluctantly you pull yourself out of his arms and try not to frown at the sad head tilt he gives you.
“Sorry bud, I gotta go deal with those as-meanie butts.” Your lips pull as you catch the small slip but correct yourself. “See I told you I would try.”
His smile grows even wider if that’s even possible for him and doesn’t seem to be bothered by the mention of the men again which you are grateful for. Instead, he pats the top of your head softly, running his hand down your hair with each pet.
“You are doing so good new friend! I know you’ll get it one day, and I’ll be there with you every day to help!”
As you shift to lift up he places his hands in yours and gives you a small boost. You say a soft ‘thank you’ under your breath and dust off your knees. You take one last meaningful look at the animatronic you’ve sworn to be friends with. You can’t go back now and deny the job you were on the fence about. You still had your reservations but they were all swept away by Sunny.
Even now as he smiles at you there is something so fragile about him, ironically. You can’t help but feel like you're staring up at a much taller version of yourself a decade ago. You didn’t understand the full picture but you didn’t need to so you could understand that emotion. That burning emotion that tore your life apart.
This time though your metaphorical younger self didn’t have to be alone. Everyone made you feel like a burden, that you couldn’t do anything. They all thought you needed help like everyone thinks Sunny needs help. You both needed help but not in the way anyone cared to understand. You needed hope, you needed someone to stand up for you.
You will be that person for them now.
You give a small wave to Sunny as you back up towards the door, turning to open the door but stopping as your hand makes contact with the handle. You didn’t want to leave him alone, but if all goes well it will just be a night. You could do this.
“Hey Sunny?” You turn to look at him and he hasn’t moved an inch from where you last left him.
“Yes, friend?”
“Thank you, and let Moon know that I am excited to work with you both.” Your fingers twirl around your sleeve deciding whether or not you’ll add the next part swirling in your mind.
“I will be back, I promise.” You finally whisper out, skin crawling a bit at the vulnerable tone of your voice.
To break that crippling feeling of vulnerability you shoot out finger guns toward him. He surprises you with his quick improv and immediately dances around to miss being hit by your imaginary bullets. You both giggle and you can only wish that you have given him enough hope to cling onto when you’re gone.
You wave again and walk out the door, managing to close it softer this time. The men looked like they also haven’t moved an inch and are all looking at you expectantly. Just seeing their dumb fear-filled eyes brings the rage boiling back up but you steady your breath to not fuck up this opportunity.
“So where do I sign?” You speak up knowing they don’t dare to ask and risk spooking their golden candidate.
“Excellent! See I just knew you would do per-“
“I have one stipulation.” You seize your chance to interrupt him as he has done nonstop to you. “I really need a job, so I will be signing on to start tomorrow.”
“Well, well, well. Quite the little go-getter. I see that and all of us here at the F.E.C very much respect the work ethic.” He snaps to the man on his right and gets handed the clipboard with the contract.
He takes the pen attached to the clipboard and manually scribbles in what you assume is the start date and flips it around while holding out the pen to you. “Sign right on that line.”
The simple line felt so similar to the dangerous walk of the tightrope but with the same courage you took your life back with you grabbed hold of the pen and signed the dotted line.