Chapter Text
Somehow, Eclipse had assumed that throwing himself onto the mercy of his inherited enemies would be more productive than his own fumbling efforts. He wanted to find the bastard who’d dragged him out of the trash and sent him off like a broken wind up toy, they wanted to find the bastard who would threaten them with their most hated adversary once again.
Plus, loathe as he was to admit it, he did genuinely need the help when it came to ideas. Most of the time Eclipse’s head felt like it was full of cotton– except when it felt like steel wool, chafing and scratching and scraping. Moon was supposed to be smart, and he hadn’t known about the other Eclipse (or Solar, apparently) but he was supposed to be smart too, or something.
So why was it he was being sent out on the exact same wild goose chases that he’d been doing when working by himself?!
A low growl rattles his chest as Eclipse stalks the back room of the West Arcade, his very temporary base of operations. The search for his magic source was so far coming up a bust, and a low headache had set itself up from all the effort he'd expended today. Really Eclipse was looking forward to nothing more than plugging himself in and shutting off for a few hours, just to get out of all this bullshit.
Sunk into his own private misery, he misses the ringing of bells that follow stomping feet, as well as the short, sharp muttering. It was only when he hears the sound of something being knocked over that Eclipse finally realizes he’s not alone back here. Though, considering who his company has to be, it isn't much of an improvement.
Sighing, his rays pinning back briefly, Eclipse forgoes his intentions of rest to head back towards the front, where Ruin stands over a toppled over arcade cabinet.
Yep, knew it.
The bitter sting of today's failure weighs on him, condensing to a hot point behind his eyes, and he would like nothing more than to take his irritation out on someone else. And here was a target, just for him.
“You know… far be it from me to tell you how to do your hobby,” he drawls, leaning against the wall. “But I think those things are supposed to be working. Just my two cents.”
Ruin flinches, leveling a look over his shoulder that could almost be called a glare. “Oh. You've returned.” His high voice lacks its usual edge of near-desperation. “Yes, yes, I am– aware that the cabinets should be working. Do not doubt that I understand this. My morning has been rather occupied with Moon’s stupid– my morning has been rather occupied, that is all.”
Eclipse watches as Ruin turns back to the cabinet, crouching down beside it to pull a panel off. With the screen cracked and a joystick hanging loose, Eclipse isn't sure what it is Ruin thinks he's going to do, but that isn't his problem.
“I bet I could help you with that.”
Sharp amusement curls as Ruin flinches again, followed by the exasperated way he tilts his head back, like seeking patience in the distant ceiling. The amalgamate would say no, of course– the point wasn't to have his offer accepted, but to irritate others.
“Thank you for the offer,” is the reply, which sounds as if it's forced between gritted teeth, “but I have everything under control. There is nothing I need from you.”
Eclipse waits a moment, but Ruin's gaze is fixed on his own hands, clenched onto the edge of the cabinet so tightly that they're shaking. When nothing else happens Eclipse shrugs and pushes himself off the wall, but stops at the sound Ruin's voice.
“No, actually– on second thought, there is something I would like from you.” The smaller animatronic straightens up, fixing Eclipse with a stern look.
Eclipse shifts his weight uneasily. “Oh, yeah? Want my help with revenge? Because in case you didn't know, I can't misbehave without Moon blowing up–”
“I would like a hug.”
The rickety train of Eclipse’s thoughts clatters to a halt. He stares as Ruin spreads his arms expectantly.
“You… want a hug.”
“That is correct.”
“You.. ha! You're actually serious?” Surprise gives way to amusement, with an underlying anger that seems to be stitched into his very code. As Ruin continues to stare at him, Eclipse covers his face with one hand, shoulders shaking in mirth. “Now– now what makes you think that I'll give you a hug?”
“Because.” The sharp edge to Ruin's voice cuts through Eclipse’s laughter like scissors snipping a tattered thread. The mismatched animatronic has dropped his arms to his sides, hands curled into tight fists.
“Because I have had the most trying of weeks recently. I have been knocked out, kidnapped, and threatened with torture. You remember that part, I would assume?” With every word he advances, and Eclipse finds himself backing away, until he feels the cold concrete of the wall scraping his back and can go no further.
“Just today I have endured what is the latest in a months-long campaign of– of suspicion and mistrust and–! I have allowed Moon to rifle through my head so that he may satisfy his– his paranoia, because it doesn't matter what I say– it doesn't matter–”
With a frustrated sound Ruin brings his hands up to grip his rays, gaze dropping to the concrete floor. His ventilations are too fast, what Eclipse realizes is on the edge of some kind of fit or panic attack.
“And I have– we have– and no matter what I do, no matter how much I try to prove that I am trustworthy–” Gold and cyan fingers tighten on his rays, threatening to crack them. Automatically Eclipse takes a step forward, his own rays retracting in sympathy, but stops short at Ruin's low growl. “--it isn't fair! They aren't– we aren't to blame– this was supposed to be our new home! Yet at this point Moon might as well be looking for any excuse to kill us, whether I am to blame for your resurrection or not!”
Ruin drops his hands and returns his glare to Eclipse. “So– so I want a hug, and since you are the only person here without some, some personal vendetta against me, you are going to be the one to do it.”
For a long moment Eclipse just stares at his temporary ally by proxy, listening to the rattle of roaring fans and the creak of metal on metal. He isn't sure what to make of the outburst, what should probably spark understanding for the similarities in their situations. He’s never been an empathetic individual, and Ruin’s uncharacteristic anger just bounces off of some transparent wall inside him.
But he finds himself taking a hesitant step forward, then another. Ruin cranes his head up slightly as Eclipse gets within arm's reach.
“...so I just…?”
With a sense of detachment, he watches his own hands lift, then awkwardly wrap around the smaller animatronic’s shoulders. It feels weird; their rays are too close, forcing Eclipse’s to retract, and an uncomfortable heat radiates from Ruin's frame.
He's wondering what he's supposed to do now when Ruin gives a little shudder, then suddenly there are too-warm hands wrapping around his back, pulling them closer together. A flat, disk-shaped head forces itself under his chin, Ruin's face buried in the ruffles at his throat.
It's definitely a lot more contact than Eclipse wanted, but they fit together much better like this.
Nothing happens for several minutes. Ruin shudders every so often, once squeezing his arms around Eclipse tight enough to make his casing creak. For his part Eclipse just tries to ignore how uncomfortable he feels, how aware he is of another frame pressed flush against him, and the wry sense of disaster that expects a witness to stumble upon this scene at any moment.
(Really, the hug itself isn't… too bad? He doesn't know what to make of it.)
“... thank you.” The words are small, lacking the edge of hysteria from before, and Ruin wiggles out of Eclipse’s grip. Hunching up in a far more familiar show of nerves, hands gripping the tail of his hat and wringing it slightly, his mismatched gaze remains focused somewhere around Eclipse’s chest. His fans are a lot quieter now, though he’s still trembling slightly with the tail-end of reaction. “Th-that was… rather crass of me to demand, wasn't it? Um… not– not that I didn't appreciate it, the opposite in fact...”
All Eclipse can do is shrug at that. ‘You're welcome’ is too unfamiliar of a taste to even leave his tongue, and ‘it was no problem’ would be a bold-faced lie. Finally he gathers together enough of his usual fire (or, at least, the embers that rattle around his hollow frame) to affect a sneer. “Don't get used to it.”
“Oh, no no no, of course not! I- I wouldn't dream of it!” Ruin drops his hat, shaking his head and waving both hands. “Strictly a temporary moment of weakness, or, well, moment of stress I suppose. I'm feeling much better, so it shouldn't happen again.”
Given what he's experienced in the short time he's been back, Eclipse doubts that things will be any less stressful going forward. Maybe next time, though, Ruin would find someone else to bother when he got clingy.
Eclipse watches as Ruin skitters off, presumably to continue his ongoing and ultimately useless attempts to repair even one of the arcade machines. He understands– better to look busy than to admit you were doing nothing but taking up space. Once he's certain that the other is occupied, he brings one hand up to his black and orange chest, chasing any hint of lingering warmth.
…he'd been hugged. He's not certain, but even with the jumbled handful of memories sitting like loose blocks in his head, Eclipse is pretty sure he's never been hugged before.
There’s a bittersweetness behind the warmth, and his fingers scratch against his chest. It had been weird, and awkward, but he wishes that he’d let himself relax a little more into the smaller animatronic’s desperate contact. With how Eclipse’s life is going, it’s unlikely that he’ll ever be hugged again. What a pitiful example of the only experience he’ll have.
But then again, it didn’t exactly matter, did it? He was nothing if not a motley collection of pitiful experiences.
A hand comes up to brush the back of his head, awareness of the chip weighing far more than the few grams of plastic and metal it was made of, before he drops his hand with a bitter laugh. One last glance in the direction Ruin had disappeared, and Eclipse slowly meanders towards ‘his’ designated corner to charge.
A moment of weakness, indeed.