Work Text:
Solar heard the door to the theater open and paused, a little confused. It was long after the Pizzaplex had closed, there shouldn't be any guests coming— oh. Right.
It was probably Lunar or Earth, maybe Moon. Sun didn't talk to him much — or maybe Solar didn't talk to Sun much, if at all, there was always something to be done around here, something to fix or restock or some other corporate bullshit that for some inexplicable reason always ended up being his problem and yeah, okay, now that he thought about it, it's entirely his fault, the amount of excuses he'd made just to straight up avoid the other was frankly astounding — and he couldn't really remember the last time the other animatronic came up here. Outside of work hours, that is.
He kind of forgot it was a thing.
People actually wanting to see him, spend time with him — it's been, what, a few weeks? A lot of weeks. What was that called again, the thing after weeks, fuck damn it all to hell, words, words, words, where're his linguistic processors when he needs them— months. It's been literal months, he should be used to it. But it still always caught him by surprise, as if for some Solar was simply incapable of recognizing the fact that people actually liked him now and yeah, no, alright, he might be able to see where the problem is. He should book another therapy session with Earth. Here's to hoping she won't get sad. Solar hated making her sad, it was awful. He was awful.
"Give me a minute, I'll be right there!" he shouted, grabbing the box of snacks he's been looking for to restock the shelves. It was lighter than he thought it would be. All the better for him, really.
He walked out of the storage, and near tripped over his feet when he saw who was waiting for him. Fortunately, he didn't, and as such saved himself from looking like a complete fool. Good. Great, even. He should get a gold star for not failing a basic function like walking. Like, 'Congrats, you're not a complete failure!' It'd be just perfect for him.
"Oh." He blinked, confused, then realised he was still standing there like an idiot and hurried to put the box down on the counter. "Hey, Ruin. What are you doing here? Need any, any uh— any help with arcade machines?"
The other animatronic flinched, their head snapping up to look at him from where their eyes had been trained on the floor. Solar paused, feeling like he just walked in onto something he shouldn't have despite the fact that it was Ruin that came to him, not the other way around. There was something wild, almost feral, behind those heterochromic eyes. They stared at him — or, rather, through him — as if they didn't recognize him, not fully.
Alright, well. Well shit. Solar was so not qualified to deal with this.
Could he call Earth for help? No, probably not. Shouldn't bother her. It also didn't seem like a good idea with Ruin standing right here, God knew Solar would hate it if someone stepped out to make a call so obviously about him and his (admittedly less than ideal, but still) state of mind. So. Not doing that.
God fucking damn it, he knew he should've taken that crash course in psychology but noo, why would he ever need it? Stupid.
"Oh. Oh! H-hello, Solar! Good— um, I'd day good morning, but it's nearly two in the morning and you don't look like you've slept yet, or at all, actually, and I— I-I," they cleared their voicebox, twisting their hands in front of themself. Solar could imagine all the ways their joints and inner wiring was getting damaged. It took everything in him to hold back a wince. "I'm sorry to bother you, it's— It's nothing important, not really. Again, I'm truly sorry—"
"You're not a bother," he cut them off. "It's fine. You're not bothering me."
Ruin stared at him blankly for a few seconds, something terribly broken and vulnerable behind their wide mismatched eyes and the downward tilt of their mouth. Their hands were shaking, Solar just noticed. Their entire frame was, for that matter, minute shudders racking their body as if repeatedly shocked. Now, there could be something wrong with their wiring that was causing it — Solar would almost prefer if there was, because at least then he knew how to fix it.
He really doubted that was the case, though.
Ruin's hands were shaking. They never shook, their hands. Solar genuinely couldn't recall the last time he saw them trembling, even from something as simple as extortion. Their hands were perhaps the steadiest part of their body, even back when they were all burnt and broken, too damaged to make most movements that now came to them as naturally as breathing for humans.
They noticed him looking — staring, really — because Solar has all the subtlety of a truck totalling over a fifty different cars, and hid their hands behind their back. They bounced slightly in place as they sometimes did, in a gesture that would be almost normal if not for the sudden tensing of their shoulders and the unnatural stillness that seized their faceplate, stretched into a disturbingly wide grin for the entirety of one second before it disappeared.
Solar had no fucking idea what to do about any of that. Ruin's always been a little freak, though, so it's whatever.
He'd just chalk it up to whatever the hell was wrong with their code after living decades with a brainwashing virus stuck in their head. Yep. For sure.
"Well. Well, if you're sure!" they tugged their arm warmer-looking sleeve-things down to cover their palms — Solar had no idea what the hell those were, what they were called or where Ruin had gotten them from. He didn't particularly care either. "How are you doing this fine evening — or, well, night — my dear friend?"
"I'm alright, thanks," he shrugged, leaning against the counter. "It's been a slow day today, thank God, I only need to restock the shelves and I'm done for today. Or tonight, I guess. Is it really that late already?" Even as Ruin nodded, he checked his internal clock. Should've probably done it earlier, he had it for a goddamn reason. "Damn."
"Quite," they agreed, leaning forward with their hands still clasped behind their back. "Say, would you like any help with that? I am always happy to be of assistance, Solar dear, just say the word!"
"I mean—" not really, he almost said, but somehow managed to stop his big mouth from making everything worse than it already was. Because Ruin, out of all people in this godforsaken Pizzaplex, coming to him (out of all people in this godforsaken—), shaking like a leaf but acting like everything's dandy, absolutely peachy, sir, nothing to worry about, was pretty fucking bad in Solar's humble opinion. Not that it mattered much anyway.
So. Ruin. Ruin, who came to the theater — who came to him — immediately apologizing for, fucking, existing, he guessed. Why the hell not. Alarming, sure, but everyone has their moments, right? Solar certainly did. This wasn't about him, though, but about Ruin, whose hands were shaking, something they never did. Ruin, with something dark and haunted behind their eyes and a grin that seemed far too brittle to be real.
Solar was so, so not qualified for this.
He's not paid enough for this shit. He's not paid at all, actually. He should be getting paid, why the fuck isn't he getting paid?
Right. Fazbear. Fazbear and their bullshit policies according to which he wasn't technically an employee and therefore wouldn't get as much as a broken penny from them. Fuckers.
"I could use some help, actually," he said instead, you know, like a liar. He could stock the damn shelves in his sleep. So fucking repetitive.
The change in Ruin's demeanor was instant. They stopped looking like a kicked— not puppy, but maybe a feral dog with rabies would be more fitting of a description, and really, that was the goal. Everybody give him a round of applause, he finally fucking did something right for once in his life. God.
"As I already said, I am more than happy to be of assistance!" they chirped, their smile a little more real, a little less fragile. Good. "You've said we are restocking the shelves, yes?"
"Yeah," he nodded towards the box. "I have no idea why people buy these things so much, they're horrible. And overpriced as hell. Their name says it all, honestly."
Ruin tilted their head curious, making grabby hands for the box. Solar slid it closer to them without a word, silently watching as they cut it open with their sharp claws. Their hands weren't shaking anymore, he noted. That was a good sign, right? It was good. It should be good.
Solar had no fucking clue whether they actually felt better or were just acting for one reason or other. For the sake of his own peace of mind, he was tempted to believe the former. His wretched sense of responsibility wouldn't allow that, though. For shame. For goddamn shame.
"Disappointments," they read out loud, baffled. They glanced at him, looking so taken aback, it was so funny. It was also exactly how he had looked when he first saw that godawful name. Solar cut off the power to his voicebox before his laugh managed to escape and potentially offend the other or something. He didn't know. He just felt like he probably shouldn't be laughing at them right now. "Is this a joke? Solar. Solar, please tell me this is a joke."
They snatched a pack of chips out of the box, purple foil crinkling between their fingers. They held it up comically close to their face, squinting at the blocky letters as if the meaning of the universe was hidden behind them.
Solar couldn't help himself. He laughed.
Ruin's head snapped towards him, their lips pulled down in a pout. They glared at him, red and blue eyes blazing, but Solar could see mirth sparking behind their optics and he'd have to be blind to not notice how their frame lost almost all of its tension. Holy shit, maybe he wasn't as bad at this thing as he thought. He almost couldn't believe it.
Their eyes narrowed for a split second, before widening in exaggerated image of horror and desperation. Their tone pitched high, pleading and filled with such distress it seemed far too real to be nothing more than just an act.
"Solar, I'm begging you. Please."
Honestly, Solar was impressed. He'd always known Ruin was a good actor, but holy hell, it was another thing entirely to see them in action. If he didn't know any better, he'd think their desperation was as real as, fuck, he didn't know— the wood under his hands.
(That was a horrible comparison, actually. It could be plastic. It could be anything, really, who the hell knew with Fazbear anymore. They had statues of fucking lead in here. Lunar and Earth's room was unusable for days, if not weeks, because of a fucking uranium leak. Who the hell knew what else was there?)
He cleared his throat — voicebox, whatever the hell — and, with solemnity fit more for somebody's funeral than the subject of some chips' rather unfortunate name, crushed whatever remained of Ruin's hope.
"I'm afraid this is indeed the bleak reality of our cruel, despicable world," he said grimly, with a deep sigh worthy of a man who had lost his hope in humanity. "I'm sorry, Ruin."
Ruin fell to their knees with a wail of pure agony, turning their faceplate skywards as if to beg God for answers She would not give them. Truly, Solar almost felt bad for the critical shot he was about to deal them. He didn't relish in kicking people when they were already down, it made him feel like a total asshole.
Not enough to stop him from actually doing it, but still.
"I hope your Disappointment isn't too crunchy-ing," he added in the same flat, solemn tone of voice.
Ruin actually choked at that, a burst of static erupting from their voicebox instead of any actual sound. They hit their chest a couple of times, an odd rattling noise coming from it that actually concerned Solar a little, but it could also mean anything from a life-threatening malfunction of their power core to absolutely nothing at all. Maybe Ruin had rattles in their chest compartment for some unknown reason, it seemed like the type of shit they'd do. For funsies.
He made a mental note to ask them if he can check it out later. Much later. A few days, maybe. He probably won't forget.
Hopefully.
Solar fought to keep his face impassive when Ruin turned those wide eyes to him, looking utterly betrayed. His shoulders shook from the effort.
They held an eye-staring contest for all of ten seconds before they both broke into a fit of laughter near simultaneously. Solar pressed a hand over his mouth, knowing it would do nothing to muffle the noises coming from his voicebox — that's not what he wanted to do anyway. If he really did, he'd just cut off the power to his vocals. It'd be easy.
He didn't have any reason to do that, though. Not here. Not in this Pizzaplex.
Ruin put their head in their hands, their entire frame trembling helplessly under the force of their laughter. Static-y, half-formed sounds left their voicebox in quick succession, near silent and breathless despite them having no need for air. If they were human, Solar would be far more worried about them suffocating.
As animatronics, however, that wasn't a concern. And thank fuck for that.
"Seriously, though," they managed to choke out inbetween borderline hysterical giggles, "That is a horrid name. Horrid, I say."
"I know, right?" he snickered. "Not the best name for a brand of chips, is it?"
Ruin looked up at him, their shoulders still shaking silently, though the twist of their mouth was only somewhat amused. They glanced at the bag of chips — a bagful of disappointment — on the floor next to them and huffed in contempt.
"That's— I do not believe it is a good name for a brand of, of anything, really," as they said this, they snatched the bag up and waved it around as if to make a point.
"I mean, yeah, you're right," Solar agreed. "But hey, kudos to them for calling it what it is. At least they know exactly what they're selling."
Ruin rolled their eyes, scoffing. They scowled down at the chips in their hand.
"Whoever thought of that name deserves to be fired," he was pretty sure he heard them mutter to themself. He snorted. "The lack of creativity never ceases to amaze."
Deciding it was time to get himself back under control, Solar pushed himself off the counter and pulled the box closer to himself. Familiar purple packaging stared back at him and just a glimpse of the name printed on them was almost enough to send him back into hysterics. Almost.
Good God. Maybe he really needed to get some fucking sleep. Or rest, at the very least. The late hour was starting to get to him.
(This is why he hated staying up past midnight. Thanks for reminding him, God. Why.)
"Alright, we should get down to work if we want to leave anytime soon," he said, taking two bags out of the box, one in each hand, and turning towards the emptied out shelves. "I don't know about you, but my battery's getting low. I shut down because of this before and lemme tell you, the floor here does not taste good."
"Yes, yes, of course, you are absolutely right," Ruin jumped to their feet, the pack of chips in their hand. They paused, "Well, you can't just say that and then not share. How did the floor taste like, Solar? Please, describe the flavour to me. In as many detail as you can, I'm afraid my imagination is not quite what it had used to be."
Solar shuddered. "How about no."
"Why ever not?" they blinked up at him, eyes all big and innocent. "It's not that hard of a task. Come on, put that massive dictionary of words in your head to good use!"
"Ruin, I won't hesitate throw you out," he threatened, scowling at the chips he already put down. Next to him, Ruin's steps faltered.
Regret immediately flooded his systems. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck.
He didn't mean it. It was just— maybe not a joke, not really, but. Teasing. Empty words, the lot of them. He didn't mean it. He didn't fucking mean it.
He fucked up. Because of course he did, would he really be himself if he didn't put his foot in his mouth on accident or otherwise? It's been going so well. Too well, and now Solar's gone and fucked it up. As usual. God fucking damn it all to hell.
The silence that fell after his words (his dumb, stupid fucking words) was awkward, suffocating. Tense. Like the line of Ruin's shoulders, that odd jittery, anxious energy from when they first came in now back in full force. God, Solar was such a fucking idiot. A certified dumbass.
He cleared his throat. Voicebox. Who the fuck cared.
"Well," he started, awkwardly, then stopped when he realized he had no fucking idea what the hell he should even say. Should he apologize? Should he just pretend he never said anything at all? What a great fucking idea, let's do this. "I think we'll be done soon. How many are left?"
"...Just these two, I believe," they said, quieter than they were before. Too quiet. "Which shelf do I put them on?"
Solar quickly checked out all of the shelves. "The top one, I think."
They looked up, then down at the chips, and pouted. Their Disappointment was almost palpable, if he said so himself.
Silently, Solar held out a hand. Ruin stared at it for a long second but eventually dropped the bags in his palm with an irate huff. Solar twitched, though thankfully his valiant efforts to hold back his laughter hadn't gone to waste. Yet.
As he reached out to place the chips on the shelf, Ruin continued glaring off into the distance. Which, incidentally, meant at him as well. A complete accident, for sure.
Discreetly, Solar allowed himself a smirk.
"Hey, you're the one who built this body," he pointed out matter-of-factly, careful to keep amusement out of his voice. "I just gave you blueprints, I didn't make you short. That was all you. Stop pouting."
"I'm not short," they snapped defensively, hands on their hips and glaring up at him because they were, in fact, short. "I'll have you know I'm still much taller than an average human! You are the freakishly tall one, Mister Beanpole!"
"Whatever you say, shortcake."
"I do say!" they huffed. "And another thing! I am not pouting."
Solar blinked calmly at them, his face blank. "Yes, you are."
"No, I'm not."
"You are. There's no way in hell I'm calling that a scowl, it's not—"
"Well that seems rather like a you problem, my dear," they cut him off, which, great, honestly amazing, because Solar had no idea how he was going to end that sentence. Glad to be saved some embarrassment. "It is still not a pout."
"It is, though."
"No."
"Yes."
"Nuh-uh!"
"Yuh-uh," he fired back more on instinct than anything else, then groaned and put his head in his hands. "We're arguing like four year old children. Same levels of eloquence."
Ruin shrugged, leaning against the counter. Solar could feel the soft silicone that covered their shoulders brushing against his own, so close they were almost touching. Almost, but still not quite. It wouldn't take much to close the gap, an accidental shift would've been enough to press their arms together.
Solar couldn't tell if the sudden closeness had been purposeful on Ruin's end, but it sure as hell hadn't been on his. He kind of wanted to move away, put more distance between them, but wasn't sure if it would be a good idea. Ruin was— well, there was clearly something wrong with them, something Solar with all his knowledge on robotics couldn't even begin to fix, and he had already fucked up majorly twice (well, nearly, but it still counted — to him if nobody else), he wasn't about to make the same mistake thrice. If physical contact was what they needed to feel better, who the hell was he to deny them?
(Even if the feeling of silicone rubbing against his own, even as lightly as now, made his endoskeleton crawl and itch as if thousands of little ants were skittering around inside him and biting down on his wires. It was fine. It was fine. Everything was fine.)
"Perhaps," they conceded, subtly leaning more of their weight against him. Solar's shoulders tensed momentarily, but he forced himself to relax. "However, my earlier point still stands. I am not short and I do not pout."
He snorted. "Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night, I guess."
Ruin scoffed, something odd entering their eyes. Their faceplate was tilted away from him, so Solar couldn't see their expression well. Still, suddenly, there was something... off about their demeanor. He just couldn't put his finger on it.
"I don't sleep at night," they sighed bitterly, glaring at the shelves before them. "That's the problem. Why else do you think I came here?"
(He's never seen them look so old and tired before.)
Before Solar could even begin to think of a way to respond to this, they tensed, all hunched shoulders and rigid posture. It all lasted for less than a split second and before he knew it, they pushed themself off from the counter, gone from his side as if they were never there at all. The phantom cold his sensors registered was about as real as his people skills, which is to say not at all, but with how biting it felt it might've as well been.
"So!" they clapped their hands with false cheer. They took a few steps away, the line of their spine stiff as a rod. "I believe we're done restocking the shelves! I am glad I was able to help lighten your workload at least a little, my friend. Truly, you are the most hardworking person I've ever met. I must implore you to be careful, we wouldn't want you to work yourself into an early—" their voice hitched "—grave."
Solar pushed himself up as well, taking half a step towards the other. Worry gnawed through his wires, anxiety brewing at the back of his head making him all the more hesitant to try anything to knock them out of their spiral.
"Ruin—" he started, not sure what he was even going to say.
"I enjoyed our time together, truly, however I— i-it's getting late, right, I'm sure you must be exhausted," they rambled, talking over him as if he never said anything in the first place. "I would hate to take more of your time than I already did. I-I shall get out of your hair — uh, rays — soon. I hope I wasn't too much of a bother and I apologize for... forcing my presence on you without warning."
A sudden, hot burst of rage filled his chest, but as quickly as it appeared, it disappeared, leaving his systems raw and unbalanced. Helplessness sunk claws into his motherboard and God, did he loathe that feeling.
"Ruin—"
"I shall go now— Goodbye, Solar, and good night. I hope—"
"Ruin!" he snapped, grabbing their wrist before they could make more than two steps towards the exit. They stumbled to a halt, looking at him with wide, confused eyes.
Something twisted uncomfortably inside his chest, aching.
The silence stretched, interrupted only by the quiet whirr of their fans. Ruin's eyes jumped between Solar's face and the hand around their wrist as if they couldn't quite compute what they were seeing.
Solar dropped his hands and leaned back, holding back a sigh that really wanted to make it out of his voicebox. Okay. He's got this. He couldn't make it worse if he tried. Probably. Maybe. Hopefully.
"First of all, that's bullshit," he emphasised, meeting their eyes. "I already told you, you're not a bother. You're not— You didn't force your presence or anything like that on anyone, Ruin, I like spending time with you. I'm sorry if I made you think otherwise. And I'm not going to throw you out," he added after the briefest of pauses. "Ever. That was a dumb thing to say, I wasn't really— I... wasn't thinking. So. Sorry about that, too."
Ruin stared at him. They didn't say anything, didn't move, just stared. The intensity of their gaze made his wires crawl under his casing, but there was something — vulnerable, almost, behind those mismatched eyes. Something awfully lost, like they didn't quite know what to make out of this, entire thing. Situation.
That put them on somewhat equal footing, at least, because Solar had no fucking clue what to do about any of this either.
The silence began to grow awkward. Solar bit his lips, unsure if he should be the one to break it, but as time passed and Ruin still hasn't said anything, he decided to fuck it.
"Sooo, what do you wanna do now?" he prompted awkwardly. "I mean, we can't stand around and do nothing. I mean we could, but that's— you know. So." Please, God, if you're listening, just say something.
Ruin startled, the bell at the end of their nightcap jingling softly as they shook their head rapidly. They squeezed their hands and Solar was certain there were multiple dents in them by now. The lost look in their eyes made something uncomfortably tight coil around the wires in his abdomen.
"I-I don't know," they whispered, then, much quieter, as if it were some terrible secret they didn't want anyone to know, "I just... I don't want to be alone right now. I'm sorry."
"You don't need to apologize," he said, equally as quiet. He took their hands in his own and, after untangling their fingers as gently as he possibly could, squeezed them in what he hoped was reassurance. "I get it. You don't have to be alone, Ruin. I'm here, for as long as you need me."
It was like a dam broke. A hitched, static-filled sob tore out of their voicebox and Ruin crumbled like a puppet with its strings cut. Not for the first time, Solar found himself grateful for the sturdiness of this body, as he caught Ruin in his arms. He leaned back, the counter's edge digging sharply into his back, but at least he could support their weight better this way. It wouldn't be good for anyone if his joints gave out under too much strain right now.
Ruin pressed their faceplate against Solar's chest, hands grasping his shirt desperately. Full-body shudders wrecked their body, broken cries violently torn from their voicebox. Their tears quickly soaked his shirt, but Solar couldn't care less about that now.
He rubbed soothing circles onto their back — or what he prayed to fucking God was soothing, he had no idea what the hell was he doing, but it helped calm down the kids so it must be doing at least something — hugging them loosely with other hand. Their shaking didn't subside, not that Solar expected it to, not this fast, and the static filling their voice only grew worse. He struggled to decode the words they choked out inbetween sobs.
"Sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, fuck, I'm so sorry—"
Solar didn't know what they thought they needed to apologize for so badly, but if it shook Ruin so badly, he knew he would never ask. He didn't need to know. Ruin was hurting. His friend, or something close to that, was hurting and Solar had no idea how to make them feel better. He tried anyway.
"It's okay," he said, helplessly. Fuck, he was so bad at this. "You're okay. You don't— There's nothing to apologize for, I'm not— I'm not mad or anything. You're okay. I don't blame you. You're okay."
His words only made them sob harder. They shook their head helplessly, almost tearing the fabric with how strong their grip had turned. Hiccuping laughs escaped their voicebox.
(He'd said something wrong. He wasn't sure what, but he had said something wrong. Of course he had. God, he really couldn't do anything right, could he?)
"You should," they laughed, wet and broken and crackling with so much static it sounded more like a sob. "You will."
Solar didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything. Suddenly, he felt like they were having two different conversations and boy did he not like it, but Ruin was still shaking, still crying, still holding onto him like he was the only thing keeping them from falling over the edge, so he pushed it out of his mind. Not important right now. He could overthink to his soul's content later. He had a friend to comfort now, not that he was doing a good job at it.
All he could do was to hold them close and continue whispering empty reassurances into the soft fabric of their nightcap as they cried, and cried, and cried.
He's never felt more useless.
Solar didn't know how long they stood there. It could've been seconds, minutes. It probably wasn't hours. It felt like an eternity, but at some point, Ruin seemed to have run out of tears. Their shudders grew weaker, their grip went lax, their sobs few and far between until they stopped altogether. They still trembled beneath his hands, but nothing as violent as before.
"Sorry," they apologized again, their voice little more than a whisper but free of static at last. They sounded completely drained. "I got your shirt wet."
"It's fine," he said, feeling much like a broken record at this point. Was that really all he could say? "Do you feel better now?"
Ruin was quiet for a moment.
"No," they finally whispered, burying their face in his chest as if to hide from the world, ashamed of admitting it for everyone — or one person — to hear. "But I will. That's what everyone says, right? That it gets better. Easier." A beat. "They can't all be wrong. Can they?"
"No," he said, tightening his arms around them. "No, I don't think they can."
He felt like the worst goddamn liar in the universe. He refreshed his voicebox to get rid of the static strangling his throat.
"You're going to be okay, Ruin. Everything's going to be okay."
They shuddered, tightening their grip. Their claws dug into his plating through the worn fabric of his shirt, not enough for his sensors to register as painful but definitely there. He hoped they wouldn't accidentally tear it.
"What if it won't?" they asked, quietly. "What if y— what if I won't be?"
"We'll cross that bridge when we get there, hm?" he hummed. "Let's not think about what ifs. Nothing good ever comes out of it."
He'd know. Solar didn't think he's ever hated a word (well, two) more than 'what if.'
"Okay," they muttered, a little choked up. They audibly refreshed their voicebox. "Okay."
Solar... didn't know what else to say here. Silence stretched between them, not as awkward as it could be — and thank God for that, Solar wasn't sure he could take any more of that without popping a fuse or worse — but still a little uncomfortable, at least for him. Ruin didn't seem to mind, clinging much like a limpet to him. A very large, colorful one.
At some point, they sneaked their arms around his waist, so they were properly hugging. Now, Solar was completely trapped between them and the counter, which was still digging into his back. He didn't want to shove Ruin off — well, he kind of did — but not really — but the whole thing was starting to make him feel a tiny bit claustrophobic. Just a little.
His wires buzzed with restless electricity and he started patting Ruin's back again just to move. To occupy his mind, he started pondering the question he'd asked Ruin earlier — what the hell could they do now?
Sleep was the first thing that popped into his head, because of course it was. Except it couldn't be it — hadn't Ruin came to the theater because they couldn't sleep and didn't want to be alone all night? Solar didn't know if it was the old regular case of insomnia or nightmares or something else entirely, and didn't particularly care to ask on the off chance it would spook Ruin and send them running again.
Probably not any video or board games either, he didn't think either of them was awake enough for that. So, something that didn't require too much energy or computing power, relaxing and easy to focus on...
Solar racked his data banks for a good answer. When he finally found one, he could've wept from relief. God, that really shouldn't have taken him so much time.
"What about a movie?"
Ruin startled, pushing themself up just enough to stare at him, confused.
"What?"
Solar realized just how out of blue his question must've sounded to them. He wrestled with his glowing feature, begging it to just switch off, God, please, beyond embarrassed.
"Uh— the thing we could do, now that we're done with work stuff," he hurried to explain, his mouth twisting into a sheepish smile. Or something like that. It felt crooked and weak, ill-fitting on his faceplate. More like a grimace, really. "We could... watch a movie. I mean, we're already in the theater, right? Might as well make the most of it. So?" he tilted his head questioningly. "What do you say?"
"What about your battery?" they deflected the question. "You said it was getting low, before."
He had, hadn't he? It was true. His battery read little above ten percent, which was... decidedly not good. Could've been worse. But still.
Thankfully, Solar didn't need to think long about a solution.
"There're power outlets in the room," he said with a shrug. "I'll get an extension cord from the storage and just plug in."
"I never saw any," they tilted their head, frowning. "Sockets, I mean."
"You wouldn't," he shook his head. "They're hidden, so kids don't stick their fingers inside and get shocked."
Ruin blinked slowly.
"That's... awfully considerate of Fazbear."
Solar cracked a smile.
"I know, right? Maybe they finally learned something from all these lawsuits," he joked and was rewarded with Ruin's snort. "We could get some blankets, too. From the daycare, I mean. Normally I wouldn't bother because, again, you know how Fazbear is, right? But Sun and Moon actually got them replaced sometime ago, with their own money, obviously. Pillows, too. They're all very fluffy and soft, it's great. You'll love them, I'm sure," he rambled. Ruin didn't interrupt him, seemingly content to listen.
"That does sound nice," they agreed. They tilted their faceplate to look up at him with tired eyes, traces of water still visible on their cheeks. "What kind of a movie are we watching?"
"Kid's movie, probably," he shrugged, careful not to dislodge the other. "I don't think we have anything else, really. Disney, DreamWorks, Pixar, the lot. Well, and also Barbie, because Earth's obsessed. We've got a whole library of Barbie movies back there, if there's any you'd like to watch. And if you want something else, I can always pirate—" he cleared his throat. "Download, I mean. I can always download it. From completely legal sources. Because I am an upstanding citizen of the United States and never have broken any law in my life, ever."
Ruin hid their face in his shirt again, their shoulders shaking — this time from laughter. Thank fuck.
"So, the plan of action goes like this. You choose a movie you wanna watch, however many you want. I mean, if we don't finish them all tonight, we can always do that later, right? If you want. While you do that, I'll go get blankets—" at those words, Ruin's grip became almost too tight to be comfortable, claws digging into his plating. Solar quickly backtracked, "—or not. You wanna join me? I'll show you where they keep the good stuff."
"Sorry," they dropped their arms, sounding rather mortified. "Sorry, I just—"
"Hey, it's alright," he shrugged, shooting them a quick, though a little crooked smile that he hoped was reassuring. "I don't mind."
"I don't know what came over me," they said, looking beyond frustrated. "I'm—"
"If you say sorry one more time, I'm going to disable your voicebox, Ruin, I swear to God," he groaned, exasperated. Ruin cut themself off with a small burst of static, looking distinctly sheepish. "Seriously, it's fine."
Ruin didn't seem convinced but didn't argue further. Reluctantly, they let go of him and took several steps back, their hands hovering in front of them as if they didn't quite know what to do with them. Finally, they started awkwardly playing with the hem of their sleeve.
Solar stretched, feeling his joints starting to pop. He grimaced. The wet fabric clung to his chest in ways that were the furthest thing from what he would call comfortable and while he very much didn't blame Ruin for breaking down the way they did, it still wasn't a good feeling. It was, in fact, a horrible feeling. It made his wires crawl.
Fortunately, there was a very easy way to solve his problem.
"You mind if I lose the shirt?" he asked, glancing back at the other. He waved vaguely at the wet patch. "'S a little uncomfortable, is all."
Ruin shook their head rapidly, their glowing feature flickering like a lightbulb nearing the end of its lifetime warranty. Solar really hoped it wasn't malfunctioning.
"No, no, of course not! Please, go ahead," they shifted, looking everywhere but at him. Their eyes jumped between shelves, twitching when they landed on familiar purple packaging proudly displaying just what the developers intended to bring thousands of children. "I— again, I'm terribly sorry—"
"Nope, none of that," he cut them off, bopping their nose. "Already told you. It's fine."
They squinted at his finger, cross-eyed, a look of pure exasperation etched across their face. Solar couldn't hold back the laugh that bubbled out of his voicebox at their expression.
"Just take the damn apology, Solar."
"No way," he refused, flicking them in the forehead. As they spluttered, he walked past them, already pulling his shirt over his head.
"Solar."
"Ruin," he mimicked, rolling his eyes. "Try again when you do something you should actually apologize for."
"I think I've done plenty already," they mumbled. Solar felt an urge to scream.
"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," he leveled them with a pointed stare. Ruin blinked up at him with those wide, innocent eyes.
"I'm certain I have no idea what you're talking about."
"I'm sure you don't."
With a quiet huff, he somehow managed to fit his big head through the hole in the shirt. He shook himself off, rubbing the spot where the soaked cloth clung to his plating, damp and colder because of that. God. He hated that so much.
He threw the shirt on the chair, his goggles and gloves following after a moment, though much more carefully. He didn't need them for now anyway, and it was probably weird to walk around in full-on work attire when they were supposed to be relaxing, right? Right.
Something touched his back. Solar startled, looking down to find Ruin carefully examining the many scratches and dents his body had collected over the years. He couldn't quite find words to describe their expression. Their fingertips, blunt as their claws have retracted, ghosted over a particularly deep gnash, gentle and featherlight.
Solar shivered.
"Uh— I'm not in best shape, I know," he said once he found his own voice, his fans whirring a little bit faster. "This model's a little old, which... certainly doesn't help. I've only had it for the last, what, five, four months? I don't remember. It's been gathering dust in the storage for some years before then, so you can imagine the condition it was in. I haven't had much time to, like, replace the casing or something — I don't think we have parts for that, anyway, and I don't really mind. So, y'know," he shifted nervously.
Fuck, he felt self-conscious. And Ruin still hadn't said anything, just stared and touched him like— like—
He cleared his throat. "Uh, Ruin? Everything okay?"
"Have I caused any of those?" they asked, their voice quiet and soft. Their fingers ghosted over the outline of shallow claw marks, paint scratched off to reveal the cold shine of metal beneath.
"What? No," he shook his head, confused. When Ruin pressed down on a larger, much deeper scratch that dented his plating inward, Solar fought back a shudder. "I— I-I don't think you did."
Ruin hummed, narrowing their eyes. Solar's fans stuttered, an odd feeling creeping along his wires.
He blinked. Ruin was at the other end of the counter, gone so quickly, too fast for Solar's processors to truly compute. He gripped the edge of the desk, his systems feeling thrown off the balance. It took conscious effort of him to lower the intensity of his overwhelmed fans.
What the fuck.
Ruin clasped their hands in front of themself, their faceplate on default setting, grinning widely. They bounced lightly on their feet, standing there as if they'd never invaded his personal space at all.
Solar stared. He couldn't seem to be able to do anything else, his systems rebooting at a snail's pace.
WHAT THE FUCK.
"You said something about blankets, yes?" they spun around, the skirt-thing around their waist flaring out as they did, and clapped their hands. "Lead the way, then! I shall be right behind."
??????????????
"I— Yeah," he shook his head. Cleared his voicebox. Refreshed it. Once he was certain a garbled mess of static wouldn't come out of him instead of actual words, he continued, "Yeah, I did. Let's go get them. I guess. Or something."
Just murder him now. Dear God.
He let go of the counter and managed not to stumble once, thank God for small mercies. When he walked past them, Ruin dropped into a low bow, the bell on their hat jingling as it swung from side to side. Solar rolled his eyes at their antics, but couldn't help the fond smile that slipped onto his faceplate. He shook his head slightly and pushed the weird interaction to the back of his mind. Later. He could overthink later.
"Have you thought about what movie you'd like to watch?" he asked as they were walking.
"Not— not really," they admitted. After a brief pause, they continued, hesitant, "I... haven't watched anything in a long while, I'm sure you can imagine why, but before the—" their voice cracked but they forced themself to say the next words "—the virus, I remember enjoying... Frozen, I believe it was called, quite a bit."
"That's a good one," Solar hummed, unlocking the door to where all the blankets, pillows and other naptime-related stuff were stored. "Sure, we can watch that, if you'd like."
"I think I would like that," they said softly. "I think I would like that very much."
"Alright then," he said as he opened the door and walked through, waving at Ruin to follow him. "Take whatever you want and let's go."
Solar left Ruin to their own devices and went to rifle through the nearest pile of blankets, all folded neatly and stacked up against the wall. He picked up the ones that felt the softest on his sensors, not paying much attention to the patterns printed on them. Those didn't matter to him as much as his comfort.
Done choosing his blankets, Solar grabbed some pillows too — one large one and few smaller ones, in case Ruin changed their mind and wanted one later. They seemed to still be looking around, running their hands through the fluffy blankets, sometimes unfolding them to judge their lengths before rolling them up again.
Solar decided to give them a minute.
"You ready?" he asked after a while, looking up from his neatly stacked mountain of chosen blankets and pillows.
"I think so, yes," they said, their head completely covered by a massive, hand-knitted octopus. Solar could barely see the tips of their rays poking through.
He blinked. The sight refused to change. Maybe there was something wrong with his optics.
He blinked again. Alright then.
Solar gathered his chosen blankets and pillows into his arms, and walked out behind Ruin. He kicked the door closed but didn't lock it — he figured they were going to return to put back everything once they were done, besides, he didn't have enough hands. His small mountain of stuff would surely topple if he tried to take out his keys right now.
Hopefully, nothing would be missing by the time he returned. Sun might actually kill him if that happened. Hell, Earth would skin him alive.
They went back to the theater. Ruin almost tripped on the stairs, having missed a step, but thankfully managed to catch themself before anything happened. They didn't talk. Besides Ruin's cheerful humming, the only sound accompanying them was the echo of their own steps and ambient whirr of machinery.
"Alright, so," Solar broke the silence as they walked into the main room. "You can go down and get comfortable, I'll just put on the movie and get right back to you. It shouldn't take more than five minutes."
"I'll wait," they chirped immediately. If Solar didn't know better, he wouldn't have a clue they broke down crying not even ten minutes ago. "If that's alright with you."
"Suit yourself," he shrugged.
He dropped his stuff on the chairs nearest the console, catching one pillow before it tumbled down to the floor. It didn't take him long to find the right movie and pull it up on the big screen, and soon they were good to go.
Or would be. Halfway down, Solar suddenly stopped and groaned, slapping a hand over his face. He shoved the blankets into Ruin's arms, ignoring their protests, even as some of the pillows fell to the floor as they struggled to keep a hold of everything.
"I forgot the fucking cable," was the only thing he said, already running up to the storage.
"Well, then go get it!"
"What do you think I'm doing?"
"I don't know, I have blankets shoved in my face!"
A few seconds later, Solar sheepishly took his stuff back from a very annoyed Ruin. He couldn't believe he forgot the damn thing.
They walked to the front row and took the seats in the middle, with the best view at the screen. Solar dropped his stuff on the floor, Ruin doing the same. They grabbed a fluffy, midnight blue blanket with golden stars and crescent moons etched across it and jumped onto their seat, wrapping it securely around themself. The chair creaked dangerously but thankfully didn't break under their weight.
Since Solar didn't particularly feel like squeezing himself into a chair not meant for animatronics his size, he chose to sit on the floor. As Ruin squirmed around trying to find a comfortable position, he put the biggest pillow behind his back and wrapped one of the two blankets he took around his shoulders like a shawl, though before he could do anything else, they called out his name.
"Solar? Would be so kind as to hand me the octopus?" they asked, making grabby hands for the plushie. They were — he couldn't think of a better way to describe it — burritoed in the blanket, their knees pressed tightly against their chest.
"Uh, sure," he decided to just... not question it. When he gave them the toy, they made a happy noise and nuzzled their face against red wool, hugging it close.
Since he was already standing, Solar made a quick work of connecting the cables and plugged himself in. He grimaced, shuddering. God, he hated thay feeling. No matter how many times he had to do this, it never got any better.
He sat down with a drawn out huff, adjusting the pillows around him. He looked at his handiwork with a critical eye and, finding it satisfactory, nodded to himself. He heard Ruin snicker, not nearly as quiet as they thought they were. He rolled his eyes.
Solar leaned back, pulling the second blanket over his lap, and pressed play. His head sunk into the pillow behind him and he sighed, focusing on the large, cinema-style screen. Fazbear really had too much money.
"Solar?" Ruin whispered, just as the intro music began to filter through the speakers. He hummed. "Thank you."
"Anytime."