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It was Thrash's turn to do first watch, and like always, she took it very seriously. She found a perch atop the little concrete room that covered the stairs that went down into the main floors of the abandoned apartment complex they found refuge in.
It was a star-less night and only a fraction of the moon was visible, thus leaving barely any light atop the roof. The streetlamps were too far down to give her any form of advantage, but she managed.
Below her, clumped together near the industrial AC block, was her family... and the Bloodmoons, she supposed. Thrash didn't really have any opinions on the twins that took them under their wing, Bash loved them and Slash was friendly, but she could never find herself to care too deeply about them.
Her priority was her siblings. They had always been her priority.
Thrash looked up to the barely-there moon, sighing. She hated night skies with no stars. It always made her... sad. Well, sad wasn't the perfect word, but it was a word, and it was the closest one she had.
Maybe it was all that time spent stuck in a Daycare Theater, wishing to be able to go out and see the night sky in all its glory that the inability to see stars most nights in a city this dense made her feel this way. She fought tooth and nail to ensure her siblings freedom, and she couldn't even enjoy it!
Not that she really enjoyed it much in the first place.
She missed the Daycare. She missed working in the Theater. She missed the kids and performing on a stage. And she kind of hated herself for it.
Fazbear was horrible to all three of them, they worked unfair hours under unfair conditions, and it was their fault Slash did... what he did. It was miserable.
But when Thrash got frustrated, anxious, or just a little bit bored, her fingers itched for anything with strings that she could play on. She yearned for an audience again...
And all she had were empty skies, a life on the run, and a sinking feeling in her stomach that she was betraying her siblings for missing the place that caused them so much pain.
But the night was quiet, and no one was around. Her siblings were fast asleep, Bash was curled up to Harvestmoon's side who begrudgingly let her sleep there and Slash was slumped against the AC block, his jacket curled tightly around him to block out the evening chill.
It was just her and the wind.
And she started to hum.
It was soft at first, almost wobbly. She didn't want to risk waking up anyone. So, she just hummed as quietly as possible. She slowly gained strength in her voice, years of practice coming back to her.
She didn't dare sing. She didn't let any lyrics fall from her lips, but she kept humming familiar melodies, letting her mind wander, and for a moment... she was on stage again.
She was standing on that old, wooden stage, lute in hand as she stared down at the crowd of eager children from center stage. She was back in that dress that had seen better years and an itchy masquerade mask over her eyes. Her siblings were beside her, dancing and singing along - both of them in those old dresses that Slash hated and wearing masks that Bash kept snapping the elastic off of.
They were the rulers of the theater, putting on a performance for their loyal subjects. Slash and Bash were the princesses, the ones who charmed and dazzled with their dances and witty comebacks.
Meanwhile Thrash was the queen. Always in the center, always leading the songs with power and poise. Always drawing in the chaos to move it into controlled harmonies. She was the center of it all and it felt incredible.
But, just as quickly as she started getting lost in her fantasy, she snapped out of it when she heard movement. She snapped her head to the side to see Slash slowly standing up, stretching out his arms as he stood.
As he put on his jacket, their eyes met and she froze. She was certain he had overheard her, how could he not?! It wasn't his turn for watch, so he must have woken up early, right? She expected him to make a snarky comment or get angry - she certainly felt angry at herself, indulging in this small betrayal of her siblings' trust.
But instead, Slash didn't say anything. He yawned as he climbed up the walls, fingers digging into the dents in the concrete they made over the weeks of using this thing as a perch and joined her. He sat down and patted her shoulder.
He was offering to take over watch.
But Thrash wasn't about to let him. It wasn't time for her to sleep yet and she wouldn't be able to fall asleep unless she felt like she finished her job of protecting her family for the night.
She glanced at him and slightly huffed.
He shrugged and looked back out over the rooftop.
Guess he wasn't going back to bed.
They sat in silence, staring into the starless night. Slash tapped his fingers against the surface in a mindless rhythm. Thrash was mentally counting down the minutes. And when her internal clock told her it was time for her shift to end and allowed her to go to bed, she silently got off the little concrete block and made herself comfortable against the AC block.
She still wasn't sure if Slash heard her - he didn't say anything about it, so either he didn't or he was saving the information to throw back at her when they inevitably started fighting again - but she had gone to sleep under much more anxiety-ridden conditions.
So, she fell into a dark, dreamless sleep and just before she lost consciousness, hoped her brother didn't hate her.