Chapter Text
The best part about being a robotic feat of engineering, he mused, was being able to quickly and easily check on systemic progressions. All it took was a tug, a refresh, and a controlled search to assess how far along a specific program was in its course. In most cases, the function was reserved for emergency scenarios, in case of severe damage or for instances when one needed to closely monitor a flagged system or an anti-virus. In the majority of animatronics, that was the only real purpose.
Sunrise Celestial, however, was not among the vast majority.
A notification on his heads-up display flashed a brief albeit bright yellow. Humming, he pulled the data stream over even as he assured little Tillie that her tiny spider friend would be safely relocated outside, and that, no, he would not squish Harold, pinky promise. Excusing himself long enough to slip away to the nearest exit, Sun - and thus Harold The Tiny Spider- made the quick trek. Hand cupped carefully, the yellow bot began a focused search, mindful of the little arachnid calmly sitting in his silicone coated saffron palm.
Repro_Sim_O > DA.V1-S
STATUS: ACTI
INITIATION COMPLETE
LAUNCH : 37%
Lovely, he mused bitterly, carefully shouldering an employee exit open. Part of him wanted to ask Moon to give it a quick once-over, due to how quickly this one seemed to be kicking into gear. The bigger part wanted nothing at all to do with the idea. It would upset Moon at best, make him angry at worst. He'd been trying; the least Sun could do was make things easier on him.
Bidding adieu to Harold, the daytime attendant quickly cleaned his hands and made his way back inside. He would definitely need to ask about options that evening for cycles - the old set up was gone and done for, and what little remained after Terra's injury had relied heavily on Cosmos's help, when Sun could persuade - i.e. bribe - them to chip in. Things were much tighter nowadays, but surely they had prepared for such a thing, he assumed. After all, Moon still had his own ruts to work around, as well, and finding a dimension with secondaries had been a criteria in their search.
Sun huffed a sigh, shaking the thoughts from his head. He had the entire rest of his shift to get through, anyway, and he needed his head in the game. Each hour that passed felt like an army crawl through molasses, and he had the oddest feeling that it was only going to get worse from there. The one balm he could cling to was Jack having apparently decided that ‘sharing is caring’ as the pumpkin bot kept forcing sips of chilled drinks upon the him. Whether the young animatronic was doing it on purpose or if the help was purely incidental remained to be seen. Regardless, Sun was grateful.
The day dragged on in fits and bursts, interspersed with the occasional squeaks from Jack, “Uncle, taste!” To further divvy up the monotony were several vague gestures and queries from parents, some more respectful than others, some outright inappropriate.
Of all the things to be similar, he mused bitterly, it had to be social treatment of omegas. This dimension had thankfully begun a bit sooner in the press for equality, furthering the options available, yet still did dissent lurk from those who preferred the old fashioned stances. The thoughts had frustrated tears bubbling in his eyes quickly, abated only by his equally rapid rush to disable his saline ducts. Gotta love the hormones.
The end of the day came none too soon as, with a shuddering sigh, Sun flicked the lock on the front entry door. Leaning against the cool glass for a brief moment - and absorbing as much of the cold as he could - he gave a slow sigh. Deep breath in, he told himself, deep breath out. He felt about as stable as a faun fresh to the world as he slowly pushed himself upright, tallying the remaining tasks succinctly in his head. Preemptively exhausted by the idea of his ensuing duties alone, he ran a hand through his rays with a gust of steam from his vents. On the way back to the party floor, he stopped by the cleaning closet, grabbing a mop, broom and trash bags, toting them along as he drifted back into the room to take stock and decide where to start his cleaning.
Imagine his surprise when he saw Chichi and Annie, this dimension's lovingly nicknamed Chica and Roxanne, already hard at work. The bubbly chicken animatronic was clearing away any remaining debris atop each table while her canid compatriot followed along with sanitizer, swiping in even motions to cover the entire surface. They were chattering easily as they worked, pausing only to peek beneath with smiles and soft laughter. The object of their sporadic attention turned out to be Jack, roving around in a demented little scuttle. Armed with a garbage bag, he swept up any plates, cups, or plastic cutlery with a snicker.
Sun stared in stunned silence for a moment before he found his voice. “Um, thank you for- thanks for the help,” he called, uncertain. When blue, green and gold eyes turned quickly to him, he suppressed the urge to flinch back. “You didn't have to do all this…”
“Oh, don’t you worry,” Chichi beamed, waving a manicured hand, “We wanted to! You've been working your little tail feathers off all day, sunshine! The least we could do is help clean up.”
Annie nodded, ear flicking as she lifted her spray bottle, head tilting slightly. “I made sure to grab the one you like to use on the tables,” she offered softly. “We wanted to make sure you could rest a bit.”
Blinking back tears, the daytime model smiled with a wobbling coo. “That’s sweet of you,” he wheezed, swallowing back the swell of flattered affection alongside its accompanying annoyance and sorrow. “But I don't want to put you out-”
“But uncle is in heat,” a warbled voice piped up, much closer than expected. Jack’s smile did not change even as Sun shrieked with a jump. The pumpkin themed bot twirled his faceplate. “Uncle is in heat,” he reiterated, “and we want to help!”
Fingers spanning around the broom handle, Sun forced a laugh. “Uh, pre- it’s just pre-heat,” he assured nervously, “but still, it isn’t a big deal!”
The avian animatronic tilted her head with a frown. “Now that’s just not true,” she scolded with a hand settling on her hip. “Our cycles may have the whole number-percentage-thingy, but anything higher than zero is still applies. Even humans go on lighter duty leading up to it, silly - so it is a big deal!” She pouted with the conclusion of her point before giving him a soft look. “And honestly? Your scent is already pretty strong, sweetheart. So forgive us for fussing just a little bit - you're stressed, and we care about you. We want to help.”
The solar model took a moment of uncomfortable tension before sagging with the smallest of nods. “Uh,” he breathed, “I just… um…. Thank you…?”
“You're welcome,” Annie replied, flashing a tiny smile. “Thank you for letting us.”
Sun wiped beneath his eyes, trying to play off the move as anxious stimming. “R-Right,” he huffed. “I guess I'll just… start on the bathrooms, then…?”
The girls nodded, and Jack bounced in place at the saffron bot's side. “I will help,” the young bot exclaimed. “The trash will be annihilated!”
“No lasers,” Sun reminded without missing a beat.
“Aw…” The orange and ochre boy swayed for a moment before holding up his bag. “Can I send them to prison?”
Barely resisting the urge to pull the smaller bot closer, to hug him, to scent this precious little pup, Sun smiled. “That's perfect, kiddo.”
“Yippee!”
Watching the boy hurry away with babbled plans for fictitious arrests and cobbled approximates of Miranda rights, the saffron animatronic gave a fond smile. His attention was diverted, however, when Annie approached his side, calm and careful. She met his gaze evenly, a warmth beneath her emerald eyes as she passed over a spare clean cloth.
“I would recommend you not head towards the back area,” she advised. “I managed to lock Gomer in one of the back closets, and Freddie is occupied in another one. Nova and Frost are handling that area now.” The wolf gave a small smile. “We've got your back. It's going to be okay.”
And Sun, for the first time in a very long while, allowed himself to tentatively believe it.
●●●●●●☆☆☆●●●●●●
He loved his job, and he loved his family.
He kept reminding himself of this fact as he fought back tears, picking at a particularly stubborn smear of sticky soda from his rays. The day had begun about as easily as it could, the roster overbooked, even for two and a half responsible parties on deck. In the grand scheme of things, it had even been an arguably good day - the typical spats were minimal, many of the kids were on what classified as their best behavior, and Sun even got two chances to sit down! A new record!
But, as things were wont to do, the small things piled up. From the spills on the floor to the battle royale between Trevón and Natalie, every single little tick frayed at his nerves like rabid termites on a fragile, singular support beam. He had expected things to get rough when Moon and Monty had asked him to tough out one more day of work to make it to their closed days. Having weathered far worse for far longer, Sun had agreed with only mild heshesitancy. Hindsight, he should have put his foot down.
By the end of the final day, he felt only mildly guilty about his antsy uncertainty when Chichi and Annie took over cleaning once again. Feeling as if he were balanced atop a razor-sharp edge, he'd been prepared for them to dismiss him one way or another. He had not been ready for them taking a more divide-and-conquer stance. They seemed to wordlessly trade off whoever was with him during each chore, and both ladies were more than happy to follow his lead or instruction. With every input sensor burning and his processor damn near rattling, he knew well enough that a single inconvenience would result in a catastrophic blowout - and so he was damn near boneless with relief at the minimized work load from the only ones who ever bothered to remember his system.
Unfortunately, good things rarely lasted in the life of Sunrise Celestial. Right around the time that everything was finished, Moon had stepped out of his hidden little office in search of snacks. The faint billow of patchouli and sandalwood had Sun instinctively turning, eyes wide and searching. His twin seemed unaware for the first few strides until he froze, rigid, and blinked. His silver hued nose twitched, his face blank, before he cringed, turned and ducked back into the employee-only hall with a loud, “Nope!”
The sting of rejection, dulled with familiarity, stabbed at Sun's chest.
It hadn't taken a genius to figure out that Moon's ruts and Sun's heats were linked up like clockwork in the very beginning. Their situation back then had been less than ideal, and the faint lingering scents had driven both up the proverbial wall in wildly different ways. Moon had made a point to try overpowering anything that held the amber, vanilla and pomegranate smell of his twin, and Sun would be drawn to the pockets of patchouli in instinctive search of pack. It had been a vicious cycle up until their separation, and even afterwards, things had been… rocky, at best.
For the longest time, Moon opted to self isolate during their shared cycles. It had been pretty simple to assume it was only for his ruts, perhaps even a precautionary measure for fear of his temper, but when Sun's own heats began coming sporadically, the truth hit far harder. The lunar bot had been avoiding his yellow-hued half. Accepting that had been… well, easy is not the word to use, but it was certainly necessary. The brightly hued ‘bot had tried to ask once, after a particularly difficult cycle, why his cooler toned twin was so uncomfortable, if it had been something he'd done somehow, or even something he hadn't. It went - …
…
Sun didn't like to think about those times.
Things were… better, nowadays. Moon tried more, there were more shoulders to carry the burdens, and Sun figured he was nearly spoiled in comparison to what he'd once had available by way of a pack. The only time he felt a bit… neglected… was during his heats. He was willing to accept the distancing in exchange for the absolute hell he had had to endure every time that awful program rolled around. As an added bonus, Monty had even laid off the sex jokes for the most part, which was miracle enough for Sun. His family all offered what they could, and he appreciated it.
It would just be better if they didn't make that face whenever they caught his scent.
“What was that about,” Chichi mused, toying with her bow. “He literally ‘nope'd right out of here!”
“He probably smelled me,” Sun huffed, only mildly upset. Overall, he mostly felt numb. “Moon hates when I go into heat, so he usually just… avoids it. And me, by extension.”
The bird animatronic stared, visibly trying to find some rhyme or reason. When she yielded naught for her efforts, she asked outright. “Why the heck would he hate it? You're sort of sweet, sure, but it's more summery-cake than cavities-and-candy.” She absently lifted another trash bag into the wagon.
Shrugging, he deposited his own bags. “He's AroAce,” he explained blankly. “The idea of romance and sexual relations make him super uncomfortable. He says being near me during my cycles make him feel gross, so…” Sun sighed, pausing to dutifully sip at his iced water as the bird narrowed her bluebell eyes. “Usually I just ride it out somewhere else, or I get locked up in my room,” he admitted after a moment. “I don't know what the plan is now - we're supposed to be closed the next few days, but if it lasts longer, it'll be a hot mess.”
Sapphire optics stared for a moment. Chichi blinked slowly. Her beak opened and closed several times before she shakily spoke. “Q… Quarantine?”
“Hm?” Opal eyes glanced at her as he dropped in the last bag. “Yeah, that's what we call it nowadays. Way back, Moon used to just kind of vanish, so I still worked through it all. The last few years have changed up, some. I spend a few days somewhere with some snacks, maybe some blankets if anyone feels comfortable lending me some, and wait. If I'm lucky, I can video call Dazzle, too,” he smiled slightly at the thought.
Chichi gripped the wagon handle a bit harder than needed as she forced a slight smile of her own. “Dazzle…?”
“Mm,” the taller bot nodded, “She's my daughter! A little deer model - she's absolutely precious!” He continued to gush for a few minutes more, even as they dragged the wagon out and transferred the bags to the dumpster. “Ah,” he flushed, rays twirling, “Sorry for going on a tangent, there…”
“It's fine,” she assured, gaze soft yet heavy with something unfamiliar. “I like hearing you chat about things that make you happy,” she assured. “Joy is a good look on you, sunshine.”
Flushing faintly at the compliment, he laughed. “Ah, well, um, thank you…”
Swallowing, the bird glanced back to the doorway briefly before she turned her attention to the other. “I, um… Sun, may I ask a personal question?” At his hesitant nod, she took a moment to organize her thoughts. “I, uh… I'm not an omega myself,” she began, “but I had a few… friends over the years, you know? Bots I've worked with, people I've chatted with, and a common theme of all of my omegan friends has been the misconceptions about heats.” She tilted her heat up slightly, tilting to catch the other's suddenly shifted gaze. “For the longest time, the media portrayed it as just… some raunchy, lewd thing. But it isn't. Scientists even started doing studies, you know? About heats and ruts, how different things impact it…”
Sun swallowed, closing his eyes. “I… I know,” he admitted softly. Similar information was available in his original dimension, and while the struggle for equality was ongoing, it had progressed much further here than home. He'd made a point to research it personally. “I know.”
Chichi frowned, touching his elbow softly. “Then why do you let yourself be tortured twice a year based on that?”
Because I used to be tortured every day, he did not say. Because I'm scared to push back when everything is so fragile? Because I'd rather suffer twice a year than lose them all forever? He said none of what first came to mind, instead opting for the truth. “Because everyone voted, and that respected all of their boundaries and concerns.”
“And yours?”
He hugged himself tightly. “... they made the call, and that's that.”
The conversation fell silent following that statement, though an unnamed tension lurked in the air. Chichi let the sentiment go, at a glance, though she - and later, Annie as well - took to chipping in more as the night progressed until what typically took four hours was completed in just shy of one. The ladies formed something of a protective wall, offering rough stares to whomever approached - or rather, whomever pointedly did not.
Sun was simply happy to have gotten off with a lighter work load and minimal uncomfortable questioning.
Things came to a head, as they so often did, right when tensions bled off enough to give an approximate of relief.
Over the intercoms, Moon spoke up moments before everyone prepared to head home. He did not want to drive home together, calling it a “smelly hotbox” that he “was not equipped to handle”. His solutions? A portal for Sun and strict instructions to huddle up in his room. “I forgot to get a bunker for you,” he drawled casually, “since this shit is so random lately. You can just lock your doors, and we'll keep Dazzle away.”
Chichi and Annie had bristled at the public decree, but with neither time nor power on their side, they instead turned to lavishing whatever they physically could offer by way of affection unto to the saffron being they'd grown to adore. Chichi left swaths of peppermint and sharp citrus across his casings, trailed faintly by her wrists and in chaste pecks to his cheeks. Annie, meanwhile, boldly folded him into an embrace, barely fighting back the urge to groom him as she poured all the care she could into her touch. It was rare for the wolf to portray her alphan nature, and she dotted as much of it as was polite in the lingering embrace.
That moment carried Sun, mildly lightheaded, through to the present. Blurs of colors and echoes of actual, genuine care coated his sensors as he was squirreled away under lock and key. It held him as he collected what meager supplies he could for his nest, and it eased the sharp stab of longing as he mourned its thinness. On two beautiful occasions, he mused, a nest of his own would have been plush, rich, smelling decadently of love and care. Now, it stood as a bitter reminder of what he’d had, what had been lost, and that which only he seemed to mourn.
Shaking the thought off before it could fester - or, worse, manifest - he had set off to the bathroom, intending to clean himself of the day’s grime.
Shower set to its cooler setting, he allowed himself the comfort of sitting beneath the spray. Meticulously cleansing himself, he grit his teeth at the chemically rich scent of the industrial cleaner. He missed his fancy soaps, his bath bombs and his shower steamers - he hoped it had been Terra who gathered his belongings this time. With Solar having been preoccupied, she was the least likely to read too far into his choices than their lunar brothers, let alone the chances for ‘accidental’ damage.
Hands falling away from his rays, Sun stared blankly at the tile beneath his splayed knees. The thought had come easily to him, and it took a moment for the implications to set in. He had a preference on who would go into his room to take his belongings, his bath soaps, and who would be least likely to judge him on it. He was sitting in his tub, fans set high, beneath a spray of cold water and reeking of industrial cleaner to clear the blooming plume of his scent, and he was thinking on which of his siblings he'd rather have steal from him. He was alone, in his room, locked away for anywhere between two days to two weeks, and he was crying over the fact that this was his normal. He was alone, his nest consisted of his bedding and a single throw blanket, he had a single refillable water bottle, and he was heaving silent sobs into the palms of his hands because he had no other options.
“Why the hell am I doing this…?”
“That’s what I’d love to know, darling~!”
Sun shrieked, jolting to the side. He caught sight of a cheshire grin, of chipped rays and sharp zigzagging teeth. Lidded gold rimmed eyes grew wide, however, when the movement did not stop. Sun squeaked as his hand slid out from under him, the other scrambling for any kind of purchase as he fell backwards. The other lunged forward, and the omegan bot had the brief thought that being killed in a bathtub was a rather lackluster - though perhaps fitting - way to go. He felt warm hands touch his arms, gripping tight and jerking his fall to a stop. The momentum carried his head along, already dizzy and hazed.
Golden rings were the last thing he saw before the back of his faceplate cracked against the tile, and the world faded to black.