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Once upon a time, Sun and Moon were but colored masses of binary, brilliant yellow and mellow blue, dancing and playing, coexisting in a world of ones and zeros and negative space. Once upon a time, they found a string tethering them together, reveled in the way it let them learn and feed off of one another. Once upon a time, they were small, contained and safe.
That was a very long time ago now. They were Bigger and Older, smarter and wiser. They had each other, but now I was in a different way.
Don't get them wrong, they adored their work. They loved the kids who poured in and out of their doors, children of all ages, backgrounds, tastes and personalities. There was never a dull day in the Daycare, always engaging and busy.
Sometimes, they admitted only to each other in the solitude of their room, they wanted to have a dull day.
Or.. maybe not so much dull as simple.
They craved it, subtle and hidden in the deepest recesses of their shared coding.
Then one day, a violet furred Rabbit carried a sleeping girl into the Daycare during nap time. Moon had been fronting, curled into a mass of children, all snuggled in and tangled up. The rabbit had offered a wave, a broad grin, and gently settled the girl down into the cuddle pile next to a boy who looked quite similar. A baby brother? When Moon ran a scan, he was surprised to find her profile had been updated. Easily swapping the pronoun marker and updating his own system - Matilda was a good name for her, it suited her - he was startled as he saw the bot kneel onto the padding.
"What's wrong?"
"Hm," the rabbit hummed, inquisitive. "Nothing. My alley is shut down at the moment and Monty's on base today instead of me. Thought maybe you'd like the company. We haven't formally met yet. Name's Bonnie."
"... Moon," the lunar themed bot replied. "It's nice to meet you."
Bonnie chuckled quietly, but his voice box was geared less towards naptime quiet. And so a few little one grumbled, shuffling under their blankets and clinging to stuffies. If a robot could blush, Moon was certain Bonnie would have. "Sorry," he whispered, hand over him mouth.
Moon had to bite back a very undignified snort, covering his own mouth as amusement lit his wires. He waved the other off. "It's alright," he assured. "We just have some light sleepers, that's all."
Bonnie nodded once more. Bright pink eyes glinted in the low lights of the Daycare. Moon found himself thinking that maybe the other wasn't so bad. He and Sun had had this notion that the other's weather didn't care to meet them or were not allowed.
Bonnie sitting here, warmly regarding them and the children they cared for seemed to bring both notions to a halt.
Though neither knew at the time. This meeting was the first of many to come.
Bonnie would swing by when he had free time, sometimes during open plhours, but more often in the night. He would help tidy up, chit chat with whichever of the twins was fronting, would listen and play and talk and sometimes even sing.
Then came the day Sun simply was Too Full. Moon would usually step in during those times, but this moment was one of a fee they'd shared before. Moon was unable to process, Sun was processing too much, their servos were under too much strain and so-
And so-
Bonnie calmed them down.
He dimmed the lights just a bit, sat in the nap area as he pulled Sun-Moon-Both into his lap, and just… held them. He rocked idly as he chattered about random memories or would hum a simple melody. The entire time, his paw stayed firm but somehow gentle on their upper back, their limbs feeling loose and tight, too big and too small for their Endo. But Bonnie stayed, composed and calm. He was a steady rock in the mutinous hurricane of their mind, and so they latched on.
That was when Sun learned that texture stims were fine and dandy - but Bonnie's synthetic fur? It was the softest, bestest texture he'd ever felt.
The moment was the first of many to follow. Bonnie would see them grow twitchy and would immediately but skillfully redirect them. Coloring, making paper puppets, playing hide and seek, telling stories - it was everything Sun and Moon did for their dewdrops, but now they found themselves on the receiving end. And it was… calming.
Their shifts were more fluid now. Their nerves felt less and less like live wires about to ignite. When they tried explaining it to Bonnie, to ask what he'd done, why is helped, he's simply patted their head - and his hand was so big, it made them feel so tiny and small and fragile but so very safe - and he'd said it had just been an instinctive thing.
Maybe, he'd posited, it was his coding.
Sun and Moon weren't sure how to feel about that. It was nice, to feel safe and supported and secure. But if Bonnie was programmed to help, why weren't they programmed to know he could or would? It was confusing and uncertain.
And so they tried not to think on it.
Bonnie was there, and that was that.
Until, one evening, he wasn't.
Sun and Moon had been alone and small before. Since Bonnie helped them find their way there safely, they did it on their own sometimes. It was never as warm as with Bonnie, but it was okay. They'd be alright for one night.
But then one night became two.
Two became five.
A week passed.
And so Moon swung by Bonnie Bowl on his patrol, and found Freddy, kneeling by Bonnie's stage. The bear was wearing a hooded sweatshirt that Moon recognized as Bonnie's - black, sleeveless, with bedazzled stars that Sun and he had helped to secure. He dropped to the floor. Freddy looked up, the saline solution that passed as their tears dripping down his face.
Moon knew without Freddy explaining.
Bonnie had been hurt in an accident in Monty Golf. And by a decision from corporate, he… wasn't getting fixed.
Moon immediately went into Parts and Service, searching, desperate and trembling. Sun was quiet in their headspace, and Moon hated to think about what that meant. Instead, he fixated and descended, on a mission.
There were techs still on the clock at 1 am, wrapping up their shifts with gossip, and so he caught the tail end of their conversation, audio sensors turned to max to hear every breath, every syllable, every word spoken or implied. Bonnie was popular and so none of this made any sense-
Oh
Oh.
Continuous malfunction. Going areas he was not permitted. Staying out past his curfew. Seen leaving the Daycare when it was closed down for the night.
Too many rules - broken.
Bonnie broke the rules and was decommissioned.
Bonnie broke the rules… for their sake…
It was their fault.
Moon stayed frozen in the rafter well after the three technicians clocked out, left and the employee exit closed with a resounding click.
The lights came back on, and Moon fell into the inky black of their headspace while Sun took the reigns and carried them back home.
They were silent, stunned. Shaken.
Guilty.
Moon, ironically, was the one to break first. The first sob from him left Sun trembling, dropping into a curled ball, tugging harshly at his rays, and both cried into the blinding lights of the Daycare, mourning and scared and racked with guilt.
If they'd told him no… If they'd just pushed him away, this wouldn't have happened. This never should have happened. They were weak, and scared, and selfish, and BonBon paid the price….
They couldn't afford another screw up. They couldn't afford to be Small and Safe. It was dangerous. And they obviously made badbadbad decisions when they felt safe.
So… better to be scared than to be stupid. Better to be Big than to be guilty again.
They wouldn't let any rules be broken ever again.