Chapter Text
Noah was the first one out of the facility, as well as the first one out of the military base. The first one to have his tiny little cage shipped off in a military vehicle to some unknown location. He should be used to this by now; used to the fear that continuously tormented him and all the other mutilated creations at Playtime Co.
But he wasn’t.
In all honesty, he would much rather be in the safe haven with Doey and all the others. At least then they were together.
The next place he went into after the doors of the vehicle opened up -after he was roughly yanked out of the cage by a soldier with a gun and who was much larger than himself- looked sorta like the safe haven. Scratch that- more like the safe haven and all the deceitfully welcoming parts of the factory mixed together. However, it was warm. Cozy. Not dingy and old or with the unnerving, anxious atmosphere of survival.
He stopped in the doorway and looked around for a moment. He was able to take in the carpeted floors and the walls painted with blue skys, as well as pretty gras and flowers before the huge soldier pushed him fully into the space.
“ Mr. Crump,” The soldier spoke. “ We brought it.”
It.
Such a degrading term.
The people at Playtime Co had called Noah and all the other children that after they were forced to no longer be children.
There was a circular front desk in the middle of the small room. Standing in the space in the middle of the desk, a man who was leaning down responded. “ Be right with ya!”
The voice was . . . softer . . . then Noah had expected.
To be honest, when the man stood upright and stepped out of the desk, clipboard in his hand, Noah didn’t really know what he was expecting. Maybe another big, scary military man; Certainly not what he saw in front of him.
The man was shorter than the soldier behind Noah; plump and soft-looking. He was also old - about mid-50s or so- with greying whisps of hair on his head of fluff blond locks, short beard, and mustache, as well as his hairy arms. His eyes were a pretty green and his cheeks a pink hue. There were thin gold glasses that were horizontally cut in half that comfortably sat on his nose; attached by a beaded chain. Noah vaguely remembered the story of Saint Nicholas. The man reminded him of that tale, except for the fact that instead of the iconic red outfit, black boots, hat, and golden buckle, the man was wearing a lot more colors.
Mr.Crump looked like childlike wonder had thrown up on him. He wore a striped polo shirt with every other stripe being a different color; each colored stripe separated by a white stripe. He also wore tan, kacki pants and a blue apron. Resting in the giant pocket in the middle of the apron, some fun and colorful pens were present.
“ So sorry ‘bout that.” Mr. Crump continued. He had his head down and looked intently at the clipboard. Reaching into the pocket of the apron, he took out one of the pens and clicked it. His tone was friendly."Took me a secon t'get all the papers in order and-”
As he looked up from the clipboard, Mr.Crump’s face turned to an expression of confusion; his eyes focused not on Noah, but rather on the soldier. “Now. Why on earth do ya have yer gun pointed at em?”
Pointed at him!?
Slowly, Noah turned his head and looked up at the soldier. Immediately jumping back when he saw, low and behold, the soldier's gun pointed directly at him just like Mr.Crump had pointed out.
The soldier was taken aback by this question. “I-I,well, for protection sir. You don’t know when it might attack.
Mr.Crump rolled his eyes. “ Ah, yes, the two-foot-tall teddy bear with no claws er teeth. I’m just quakin’ in my boots.”
His tone was happy and his pleasant smile remained, but it was impossible to deny the great amount of sarcasm dripping from his words. “C’mon now. Let’s be honest with ourselves here. Yer actin’ silly. Go ahead n’put yer gun away.”
“ But I-” The soldier tried to protest for a moment. Then they just sighed, pointing his gun away from the Bobby BearHug. “ Yes sir . . .”
“That's much better.” Mr, Crump said, “ Now then . . . Let’s see here. . .”
Noah couldn’t help but tremble as Mr.Crump approached him, taking a step back as the old man sat down on his knee in front of him. Mr.Crump placed the clipboard to the side and put the pen back in the pocket of the apron. “ Well hey there lil fella. Ain’t ya just the cutest thing.”
Mr.Crump looked at the small. red bear in front of him and his heart couldn’t help but ache for the poor soul. “ Noah, right? Now I know that’s the name on yer file, but I’m not too sure what namin’ complications and stuff yall had at the factory. Is it alright if that’s what I call ya or do ya want t’be called sumn else?”
Noah didn’t say anything.
“ Ah. Can’t speak?” Mr.Crump assumed.
“ No. It can speak.” The soldier spoke up, glaring down at the Bobby BearHug. “Speak bear! He asked you a question!”
Mr.Crump looked up from Noah and gave the soldier a stern glare. "Don’t you raise yer voice at em. Poor little guy’s scared enough as it is. Matter-a-fact, ya don' need t’be here anymore now do ya? Do me a favor n’get on outta here, yeah?”
Mr.Crump defending him left Noah a bit bewildered. He hadn’t expected it. He looked from the left to the right as the two men argued before the soldier eventually walked off and out of the building.
“ Don’t pay him no mind now.” Mr.Crump gently assured. Noah only looked up at him with his beady little eyes. “Soldiers like that r’supposed t’act all mean n’scary. Don’t make it right that they treat y'all so harshly.”
“ N-noah is fine sir . . .” Noah suddenly answered Mr.Crump’s previous question.
Mr.Crump’s eyes widened. Then softened once again in delight at the small bear’s bravery. “ Good t’know. Well, Noah, the name’s Mr.Crump. Pleasure t’meet ya kiddo.”
He held out his hand in hopes that Noah might be willing to shake it.
He didn’t.
“ No handshake eh? That’s just fine then.” Mr.Crump said. He grabbed the clipboard and stood back up. “ Well then, I’d like t’welcome ya as the first official resident at this here sanctuary! Very first a’many, hopefully!”
“ This way please!” He continued. “ There’s so much t’show ya!”
Noah still didn’t say anything as he watched Mr. Crump put the clipboard back at the desk. He then began to follow Mr.Crump from room to room. He wasn’t kidding; there was certainly much to be seen; Noah himself almost didn’t believe it.
There was an arcade and a pool area.
“ The arcade’s only gonna be used for special events n’stuff like that. Y’know. Every once in a while.” Mr.Crump explained to him. And, when they got to the pool area, Mr.Crump spoke up once again.
“I know some of yall toys r’different from others.” He said. “ Maybe some of ya can’t get wet. But I reckoned at least a few of ya'll would enjoy gettin' some swimmin’ time in.”
“ I . . .” Noah stated. “ I don’t know how to swim, sir.”
Mr.Crump wasn’t angry. His smile remained genuine and kind. “ I’m guessin’ that’s a statement that can be said about mosta the others,eh?”
Noah shrugged his shoulders. “ Yeah. I guess.”
“ That’s alright.” Mr.Crump assured. “ Aint nobody gonna make ya swim if ya don’t wanna, but it wouldn’t hurt t’give learning’ a go. So, if ya ever wanna learn, ya just lemme know, alright?”
“Ok,” Noah replied.
Then they visited the hallway of bedrooms of different sizes.
“ You can pick any room ya like.” Mr.Crump told Noah. “ Once all the others start arivin’, you can choose if ya’d like t’share with someone else. Perfectly fine and understandable if ya want yer own room too.”
“ Why are you doing this?” Noah asked. He be happy about this. He knew he should be. However, he was more confused if anything. “ I don’t understand. Why are you being so nice? Why are you giving me this? All the others this?”
“ Cause it’s what ya’ll deserve.” Mr. Crump answered simply. As if the answer was so blatantly obvious. “ This way now.”
Noah disregarded the feeling of wanting to cry; standing there as Mr.Crump continued walking down the hall. The words sunk deep into his soul.
“ What we . . . deserve . . .”
Did Mr.Crump really believe they deserved this?
“ Noah?” Mr.Crump called out in concern when he noticed he wasn’t being followed. “ You alright?”
“Huh?- Y-yeah!” Noah called back, snapping out of his thoughts before catching up to the man. His pace then slowed as he now walked directly behind him once again.
The tour continued and Mr.Crump showed him the large outdoor area. It was a giant field with many things to play on; Swingsets, slides, a seesaw, those spring horse things. There was also just a field of fresh grassto play and run around. Maybe play a game of tag, baseball, or soccer. All out in the warm, real sunshine.
“ This whole sanctuary is hidden from the outside world. Whole place is surrounded by forest on either side of it and is a good few hours away from any towns or cities.” Mr.Crump told Noah. “ Aint nobody but yall, me n’the people workin’ here are allowed here. Recon’d it'd be nice to make a safe area for y'all to get some good ol’ sun.
The second to last room they visited was the main playing and learning area. It was a giant, lovely, and colorful classroom with tables and bookshelves, places to play and take naps, as well as plenty of non-living toys.
“ This here is where y’all be most of the day; learning n’playin’. All that good stuff.”
Noah felt hungry as he looked around the room without much care for the space or what resided in it. He suspected Mr.Crump wasn’t going to snap at him for asking, yet he asked his question with caution.
“ Uh . . . Mr.Crump?”
“ Hmm?” Mr.Crump turned his head to look down at the small Bobby BearHug.
“ Do . . .Do you have any food I can eat maybe? . . . I'm really hungry . . .”
Mr.Crump didn’t snap at him. He didn’t make fun of him or mock him cruelly. “A matter-a-fact I do! Thanks for remindin’ me! I'm glad ya did 'cause there’s somethin’ Imma need yer help with!”
Need his help with something? With what exactly? Those are the questions Noah probably should have asked as he was led into a large cafeteria. But he didn’t.
“ This here is where ‘you’ll be eatin’ all yer daily meals!” Mr.Crump said.
Noah’s eyes widened at that statement. “ Daily? . . . Y-you mean I’m gonna get a meal every day?”
Mr.Crump let out a soft chuckle. “ Aint just one meal bud. Yer going be eatin’ breakfast, lunch, and dinner in this here cafeteria . . . well . . . besides snacktime witch’ll be in wherever we’re stationed between 3:15 an 3:45.”
The cafeteria was filled with bright tables. Each one was a primary color surrounded by metal, navy-blue chairs. At one of the tables. Many different food samples were placed.
“ That’s where imma need yer help.” Mr.Crump explains. “ I was hopin’ you’d be up for tryin’ some of these here samples n’help me figure out some menu items. If yer up for it a’course.”
There were different options for each meal; breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Noah stood there for a moment before silently sitting down.
“ Guessin’ that’s a yes, eh?” Mr.Crump asked. He let out another chuckle. “ Well then, don’t you let me stop ya now. Eat as much as ya want, kiddo!”
As much as he wants . . .
Slowly, Noah reached for a cheddar biscuit from the breakfast section. Everything smelled delicious. He then raised the biscuit up to his mouth, eyeing Mr. Crump as he did so. Mr. Crump only looked at him with that same warm kindness still illuminating his face. “ Go on. It’s alright.”
With the confirmation he wanted, Noah bit into the biscuit. Then, he lowered his head as his body began to shake; muffled whimpers leaving his mouth.
“ H-hey now!” Mr.Crump exclaimed nervously. His returning concern for Noah was very evident on his face. “ It’s alright lil fella! Oh dear- what’s wrong?”
Noah couldn’t respond properly with his mouth stuffed with food. If he could, he would be full-on sobbing; not even trying to stop the tears from flowing down his fluffy, red cheeks. For the first time in ten years, he was eating the best thing he had ever tasted. He didn’t know if the food was really as good as he thought it was, or maybe his taste buds had been continuously tainted by the days of constant hunger and the constant gorging on flesh from other toys that Doey brought into the Safe Haven. Still, he kept eating.
With no knowledge of how to comfort the poor boy in front of him, Mr.Crump sat down next to Noah and began to gently pat him on the head. Noah flinched at the contact at first, freezing in place as his ears turned down. After a few moments of getting used to it, he recognized the touch as a good gesture and not an attempt at harming him. He became at ease.
“ So soft . . .” Mr.Crump thought to himself as his gentle head pats turned into even more gentle head rubs. As he watched Noah continue to eat more and more, he began speaking gentle words of comfort to the boy. Which eventually turned to words of worry as Noah began to overeat his fill.
“ Uh, Noah?” Mr.Crump said. “ Lil fella? . . . I’m glad yer enjoying yerself, ya might wanna slow down a bit there. Don’t want ya t’get a stomach ache now.”
But Noah didn’t listen to him. He was too consumed by his hunger - a desperate feeling to keep this fullness he had not felt in so long. He couldn’t for the life of him remember the last time his stomach felt so satisfied.
That was the reason why, not even half an hour later, Noah now lay on a large carpet in the play and learning area.; groaning and grumbling. The carpet had a giant caterpillar in the middle of it with colorful letters of the alphabet surrounding the rim of it in order from A to Z.
“ See?” Mr.Crump gently scolded. Though it hardly felt like a scolding at all with the pity and slight, non-cruel amusement lacing his words. “ I told ya not t’eat too much and t’slow down . . . Well, least ya liked the food I suppose.”
Noah only whined and grumbled some more. His tiny body was sprawled so that his stomach was resting on the heating pad underneath him; a pillow from the rocking chair in the reading nook under his head. He felt at ease as Mr.Crump gently rubbed his back.
In Mr.Crump’s other hand was a book. Specifically the first installment of a children’s book series called “ Hank The Cowdog.” Mr.Crump began to read out loud per Noah’s request. And he read in funny voices too; a different voice for each character. “ Alrighty. Chapter one . .. “
Eventually, the pain in Noah’s stomach dulled. He didn’t even fully know if he wanted to trust Mr.Crump yet, but he didn’t really care at the moment. All he wanted to do was fall into a deep, peaceful slumber.
And that’s exactly what he did.