Sun + Moon

A Dream Within A Dream

Keeping your composure was a lot harder than keeping Monty in check. Which was hard to do by itself.

This isn't how you wanted to start your morning, you had hoped for a more relaxing morning with the usual antics. Your sanity was hanging by a thread, and your mental health couldn't handle anymore strain than it already had. Dust Bunny was taken with you because the comfort he brought with his lukewarm metal was better than to be alone. You probably shouldn't be driving right now, but you needed to be there.

No one deserves to die alone. Your mom made that clear when she called you in tears. Your mother was already in poor health, she didn't need anymore strain.

You dad was old. Your mother was old. You knew that and had prepared yourself from the day they inevitably die. Nothing prepared you for the information you were just given.

Your dad had gotten hit by a car. Your mom said he wasn't breathing when he got to the hospital. The doctors were doing everything they could, just as much as you were breaking speeding laws. You hadn't been pulled over yet so you were silently thankful for the possible compassionate cops watching the roads.

You mumbled frantically verbally and mentally. You nerves were haywire no matter how you tired to calm yourself just enough to drive.

The pedal, you wished you could push it farther. The pedal, you wished it push the speed.

Your frantic mumbling progress as you basically drifted your car into the parking space. Or two. You felt DB's little metal hands dig into your shoulder. He probably got whiplash. You threw the door open and closed hard enough to dent. You didn't normally run, but right now every single second counted.

You pushed those hospitals doors open, your heart beating so fast as blood rushed to your ears. The worst fear suspended in the air, preparing yourself for the worst.

"MOM!"

You felt nurses grabbing your arms and trying to calm you down. It didn't work, you just needed to see-

"(Y/N)..."

You heard your Mom's croaking voice. You looked over to your left so fast your neck cracked. The muffled noises became silent when you saw the blood on her shirt and hands. Her face was bloodily splotched and tear streaked. Her normally kept hair was frazzled, just as bad as her eyes flickering concern. Frazzled pupils staring directly at you. Her lips curled and thinned. The tears welled but didn't fall. Time seemed to slow.

You just weren't quick enough.

You fell to your knees and started bawling, sobbing, screaming, wailing. The nurses had to practically carry you to a separate room with your mother.

"Time of death, 4:57 am."

You felt your mother wrap her arms tightly around you as if you'd disappear.

Your mother's partner and best friend just died.

Your partner and best friend just died.

Everything moved without meaning after that. A year later, your mother died. The doctors said it was malnourishment, but you knew it was a broken heart. You hated yourself for being the reason your other parent died.

You just weren't fast enough to save them.

You saw the signs but your own grief killed another loved one.

What was wrong with you? He's dead because you weren't fast enough! She's dead because you were selfish! This is your fault!

It's always your fault!

Why are you like this?

You don't deserve to join them!

You're really just are as ugly as you feel.

Why did you let this happen?

Did you want them to die?

Shes dead because you couldn't get over yourself!

You should have died, not him!

"(Y/N)!"

Your eyes shot open and you were sprawled out in your chair. Chica was standing over you. Her eyes tweaked and feathers flopped. You gripped your shirt where your heart would be in an attempt to calm yourself.

You're fine. You're fine. You're fine. You are fine. You. Are. Fine.

You got your breathing under control. You looked around, Parts and Service. You are in Parts and Service. "I'm okay, I'm fine. Calm down." You whispered to yourself.

Chica sighed audibly. You shakily lifted your head up to see her looking down on you concerned. You didn't like pity and Chica wasn't programmed to have that. You always liked that about her. She never took pity on anyone. Chica was meant to encourage children to use support and help for others. To teach independence in themselves but to have kindness for others who had a harder time grasping it. She played the part well.

You were calm now. Rational thinking is stable now.

"You okay, honeybun?"

You smiled at the pet name. "I'm okay. Just had a bad dream." You stated. She huffed and sassily placed her hands on her hips. "I'd say that was a lot worse than a little bad dream. People don't normally wake up from bad dream's not knowing where they are and with a heart rate of 134. Not to mention the crying frazzled mess you wake in, or that it took me a whole two minutes to wake you up!" She explained. You crack a pathetic smile, and make some kind of cough mixed with a laugh sound.

You licked your chapped lips and ran your fingers through your hair, greasy. You'd need a shower, and not just for cleaning yourself.

"I just..." you start, "I'm... I don't... It was just... ugh! I hate this, I just don't know or understand!" Your voice cracked audibly. Loudly even. You covered your face to stop your tears, as if that would help. "He's gone! She's gone! It's been that way for a while... so why does it still hurt?" You mumbled that last part. You looked towards your feet.

...

...

...

You stared at Chica's talons.

"Maybe you're not grieving over them. Maybe you're grieving over the you that got lost."

Chica went to raise your head and her beak tilted. Her eyes were hollow and empty. "You're grieving over a version of yourself that doesn't exist anymore. A version that didn't have independence with itself."

You opened your eyes.

"(Y/N), the boss called. He's in the hospital."