Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A new chapter, it is taking shape
Under shadows with the ghost parade

Spend the night at the Pizzaplex
And survive all the murderous tech
Run and hide, stay a step ahead
Or you might end up fallin' dead

~Spend the Night by Tryhardninja~

Tonight, the melodious music box felt far away from its usual home. Within the confines of the Daycare, inside the ball pit the gentle sound of Grandfather’s Clock grew in volume. Hidden beneath the colorful plastic river was someone who really wished they could go back to sleep.

Unfortunately, despite everyone's efforts it simply wasn't enough to keep him away. William Afton had returned for one inexplicable reason or another, and thus disturbed her and so many other spirits in the process. So, hidden from view in yet another new Fazbear Entertainment Franchise, she kept herself calm and watchful—just like always.

The Puppet was stuck inside the Daycare tonight, and judging by the plaintive wails of Foxy the Pirate's replacement things were not all they seemed to be.

***

Freddy was currently wandering the Pizzaplex, looking for... something. Technically he was supposed to be on lockdown, and while he was normally a stickler for following the rules, tonight was a rare exception. He could hear his animatronic bandmates roaming around, clearly not respecting their instructions to stay put after hours either, though from sound alone Freddy could tell they were different—and not in a good way. Their growls and mutterings seemed much more aggressive than normal for their pre-programmed personalities, even for Roxy and Monty.

So here Freddy was, following the odd, looping music in hopes that maybe it would lead him to a clue as to what in the world was going on...

When the heavy mechanical stomping could be heard just on the other side of the room, Puppet peaked her stained, greying face from the spectrum of scattered colors. Looking onward at the curious bear, she decided it was best to duck back down inside the pit. Even though she attempted to discreetly slither under the balls, they popped and clicked together. Along with the fading of the music as the key in her back wound down, it hadn't been the most nonchalant way to sneak by without notice.

Charlie had come too far to be stopped by one of Afton's creations, though. Without souls trapped inside them they weren’t aware like the others, so she continued on her way. It wasn't until she got a weak, limp hand finally wrapped around the lip of the slide that she noticed the sound of heavy feet even closer than before.

At first, Freddy thought it was Sun crawling through the ball pit. The lanky animatronic was the only one who might be able to fully slip underneath the colorful surface, although why the attendant would be slinking around inside there of all places was beyond Freddy's understanding. However, when he caught sight of the slim hand wrapped around a play structure, he knew this was not Sun—the color palate was completely wrong.

He stopped, head tilted slightly as he locked onto the figure. If it wasn't the daycare attendant, then... who was it?

Tentatively, Freddy called out. “Hello?”

With quick reflexes, the appendage was snatched below the surface. Limbs that moved too fast to ever be a child—and limbs far too long, for that matter—clearly indicated this intruder wasn't human. There was a racket of clattering plastic as the mysterious creature scurried under the over-saturated cover of fun.

She wasn't that fast, the full use of her limbs having been lost long ago. Now dragging two broken legs behind her, the Puppet stayed calm—she’d been through worse things than one animatronic trying to stick their nose into her business. Though as she accidentally got turned around and bumped back into the padded side of a rainbow bridge, she realized the robot was standing just above her and gave up trying to flee with a little huff.

Charlie took a second to see that she’d been dealing with a Freddy. Off the bat he seemed more distressed than her, with a face so full of expression it was hard to tell that this iteration of the bear wasn't flesh and blood. It was disconcerting, to say the least. She didn't know what to say, so after a moment the Puppet admitted softly:

“I'm lost...”

Now, this black and white jester looked strangely familiar to the Glamrock bear. There was no doubt it was an animatronic of course, though certainly one that Freddy had never seen in the Pizzaplex before. Still, there was something about it that tugged at his memory banks...

He blinked rapidly, pulling up what limited data he had on retired animatronics—this information was only added in case guests referenced past Fazbear Entertainment creations, though the Glamrocks didn't have much working knowledge of what their old iterations were like. After reaching further and further back, Freddy was able to conjure up an image that looked relatively close to the creature in front of him, labeled as simply: “The Marionette (alt. Puppet).”

Focusing on the present, Freddy crouched and put on his best reassuring smile. “Ah, I recognize you from the information in my databanks—you are from the original animatronic line! Forgive my hesitation; I did not think there were any previous variations at the Pizzaplex... But you say you are lost? Where are you trying to go?”

The answer wasn't so much of a destination—more like an idea. Charlie wanted to find rest, though it seemed like William would never let her or the others sleep. It meant those she vowed to place under her protection were all put at risk again, and it was her job to do something about it.

This Freddy was different, Charlie noticed. More present than all the others she’d interacted with before. She didn’t feel the need to scan for a soul—it was clear his friendliness was nothing more than programming. No child would talk with such formality, especially a pissed-off dead one.

Slinking towards the edge of the pit and gently pulling herself up, Puppet was able to show Freddy the mangled second half of her body. Exposed wires that disconnected her legs and sooty burns ruined her lower portions, revealing that even if she wanted to move fast, she’d have a hell of a time doing so.

“Parts & Service. The halls are too confusing...,” Charlie admitted, giving him a realistic answer. With no map-memory in her head of this new place, it was hard to navigate halls even for Henry's first, more successful AI system to process.

Freddy wasn't disturbed by the sight of the mangled animatronic—at least, he shouldn't have been. He'd seen robots like himself in various states of disrepair throughout his time at the Pizzaplex. True, he'd never seen one as distressed as the Puppet, but it shouldn't have been that unnerving.

Yet... something in him startled at the sight. It was both familiar and sad, and honestly it made Freddy quite confused. However, he managed to chase away this feeling quickly with a shake of his head, instead holding out a hand to help the damaged robot onto more solid ground.

“I can certainly bring you to Parts & Service, if you would like,” he told her with as gentle a smile his metallic face could offer.

He was friendly. Most Freddy’s that Charlie had interacted with were inhabited by good kids. Damaged and messed up from the years, but good kids. While Charlie didn’t recognize anything resembling life within the lovable mascot from the outset, she was relieved to be helped out by one that didn’t happen to have psychotic tendencies either.

“Please,” she intoned, quick to wrap her dirtied arms around Freddy’s hand. The Puppet clung to him with a voice unable to keep the mild tremble at bay, sounding less like a scripted robot and far too human. “I… don’t know how long I’ve been like this.”

“It will be alright,” Freddy reassured automatically, allowing his new, lanky companion to cling as much as she wished.

This one was definitely… strange. He expected his Glamrock counterparts—and this included any other animatronic currently in the Pizzaplex that he knew of—to present the façade of emotion comparable to a human’s. Their AIs were the most advanced in the business, and it was often hard to believe that they were in fact just robots underneath. But the older models shouldn’t have this capability to sound so real—let alone so scared.

“We will get you all fixed up in no time,” Freddy added, pulling the Marionette up. It was clear the animatronic’s lower half was struggling, so he gave the robot a quick scan—yes, those legs were definitely busted more than could be seen outright. “My health scan indicates damage to you lower half that might be aggravated by trying to walk. Is it alright if I carry you?”

He was so kind, this Freddy—not yet ruined by the blight Afton released upon the franchise. Charlie’s arms intricately wrapped around the bear’s, coiling tightly to grip and hang on wherever he wished to take them.

“I should be fine like this,” she remarked, beginning to wonder if they even had her spare parts.

“Alright,” Freddy replied simply, not one for confrontation. If this was an injured human child, he’d have scooped them right up and taken them to the nearest first aid station without hesitation. But this was an animatronic, and it had its own AI and way of doing things. If it wanted to walk, then he would let it walk beside him—though he’d always be there for support, of course.

As they started towards the large wooden doors marking the exit of the daycare play area, Freddy looked around. He found it odd that Sun hadn’t come over to see what was happening, for the cheery animatronic usually jumped at the chance to spend time with friends. However, the attendant was currently nowhere to be seen, so Freddy refocused on the being clinging to his side.

“My records indicate that you are called ‘The Marionette' or 'Puppet.’ However, many of us have nicknames as well, so is there any particular way you would like me to address you?”

With Sun currently preoccupied by the mess that inexplicably appeared inside his room the last time Moon had taken hold, he’d currently be out of commission a little while. Charlie’s mask twisted towards Freddy as she listened to his question.

Wouldn’t it be nice not to be called something so off-putting for a change? Bashfully, she wished to be known as—

“Charlie. Call me Charlie, please.”

Chapter Text

When all the family has fun
That's for everyone
Good times with your friends
Never done
Great memories will be made
Times you never would trade
For the whole world
When you stay
Here at the Mega Pizzaplex

~Mega Pizzaplex by Kyle Allen Music~

That name was familiar—it tugged on something deep, deep within the recesses of Freddy’s memory… But the bear had encountered countless people named Charlie in the Pizzaplex and therefore paid this feeling no mind. Dragging alongside him, the Puppet’s model was so lightweight it was as if she was nothing more than a plastic bag.

“You’re different…,” she remarked, the winding down of her music suddenly coming to a halt as the faintest hint of a smile echoed in her tone. “Thank you, Freddy.”

“You are quite welcome, Charlie!” the bear replied cheerfully. As they exited the play area and made their way to the stairs, Freddy hummed as he thought aloud. “Hmm… the closest way to Parts & Service would be through the elevator behind Roxy’s room, since mine is out of commission.”

Also, perhaps he’d get to talk to his wolfish friend on the way and ask if anything was wrong—if she was still in her quarters, that is.

“Roxy? Don’t you mean Foxy?” Charlie asked curiously. Had they replaced the fan favorite? While lots of children tended to be wary of Pirate’s Cove, she and a good friend of hers used to visit the old fox every day they could. Charlie held back the urge to be sentimental over a life long-past. Instead, she limped more against Freddy’s side as they egressed into the main Atrium.

“Ah—no, Foxy was never included in the Glamrock lineup,” the bear replied. “Roxanne Wolf now occupies his place. She is—a wolf with a need for speed and a talent for playing the keys!” Freddy paused, then shook head with a chuckle. “Apologies, my customer-facing software must have kicked in briefly—it is supposed to be turned off automatically after hours…”

He muttered this last part to himself but quickly perked up again, not wanting Charlie to see him worry. “Anyway, Roxy plays the keytar in the Glamrock Band. She is also the mascot for the speedway attraction, though it is currently closed for maintenance.”

Charlie took a cursory glance around the shining and spotless Atrium as she listened to the bear, upset that her near-expressionless face couldn’t provide an eye roll to his mandatory spiel. The floors gleamed beneath fancy, neon lights. Illuminated storefronts sat pristine in anticipation of new shoppers. The company had certainly taken big strides as a franchise since its inception all those years ago.

“This place sure has changed,” Charlie murmured, her voice soft and far away as she seemed to coil tighter around Freddy’s arm.

The storefronts soon petered away as they came to Rockstar Row, home of the band members when off-duty—and the place for personal Meet & Greets. Roxy’s room lights were still on as she prowled and paced inside. Seemingly frustrated and murmuring to herself, she caught sight of Freddy out of the corner of her eye.

“Hey, big-shot! You snuck out?” Roxy asked, looking the ursine band leader up and down through the glass. She wore an expression of surprise, as Freddy normally stayed inside the moment curfew begun like the epitome of good he strived to be. “Careful, Vanessa’s out and—”

Roxy paused, finally processing the thin creature hanging off his arm.

“…Freddy. What is that thing? It looks like a hunk of garbage! Go toss it before Ness sees you toting it everywhere,” she grumbled, her muzzle scrunching up in disgust.

“Roxy, please do not be rude,” Freddy chided with a frown. Her forward personality wasn't usually so outright snappish, and the frustrated muttering was new. Sure, Roxy talked to herself more than any of the other animatronics—usually giving herself positive affirmations in the mirror—but this was on a whole other level. Freddy shifted his arm, raising it ever-so-slightly to show off the Marionette.

“This is Charlie—a new friend,” he continued. “I am taking them to Parts & Service to be repaired. Speaking of—” His eyes shifted to the door to Roxy’s room. “May we use your service elevator? Mine is still out of commission.”

While Freddy spoke, Charlie maintained an unbroken and empty eye-socket contact with Roxy. Unnerved but refusing to show such weakness, the wolf flexed her neck and gestured with her head towards the back door of her room.

“Sure thing; just don’t let it have any of my upgrades,” she joked playfully, though the way she spoke might've come off more brash than intended.

Charlie would never get used to being called that—an It. The curious, mildly suspicious look that Roxy was giving her had put her off slightly… Though Puppet was sure her mangled appearance was far more shocking.

“Thank you, Roxy,” Freddy said with a smile as she let them into the room. He made his way towards the back area but paused before opening the door, looking back at the wolf with a questioning head tilt. “I wanted to ask—are you… feeling alright tonight?”

Surely she’d be able to tell if anything was malfunctioning, physically or coding-wise. Hopefully Freddy was just being weirdly paranoid, though—and if that was the case, maybe he should get checked out himself.

Roxy gave the bear a cursory glance as he walked into her room. Her gaze narrowed briefly at the question, but relaxed some as she rolled her eyes.

“Totally—I feel fine, Fredbear,” she replied, leaning against her vanity. Crossing her arms, her lip raised as she watched Puppet hang from Freddy in a clingy manner. It was something Roxy personally found annoying, but she refrained from saying anything. The bear adored making new friends, and she hardly even knew this entity besides from what was stored in her Mascot Inventory memory. Though she had the sudden, surprisingly violent urge to rip it from Freddy’s arm, she resisted the urge to move from the tabletop.

“Why? Do I seem off?” Roxy pressed, perhaps coming off as more self-conscious than intended. This made Puppet tilt her head in surprise, which caused the wolf to snap at her with slightly bared teeth. “And what are you looking at?!”

“Nothing much,” Charlie replied calmly, her mask showing no emotion as Roxy growled lowly at her.

“Everyone, please,” Freddy interjected, shifting his body in-between the pair. He looked at Roxy, giving her what he hoped came off as a reassuring smile. “No, you seem alright. I simply wanted to ask because… well, never mind.”

If Roxy didn’t sense anything amiss, Freddy wasn’t going to bring up the weird feeling he had. There were more pressing matters for him to attend to anyway—namely, the animatronic clinging to his arm. He turned his head to Charlie, his smile brightening. “Shall we go?”

“If you’d be so kind,” she replied, warmed up by Freddy’s amiable expressions.

Maybe Roxy was just in a mood. Content to flip her hair and scoff at the Puppet—who gave no indication that she was bothered by the tetchy wolf—she plopped back down in front of her mirror to begin her nightly affirmations. Little did any of them realize the issue with Roxy’s rude behavior went far deeper than they could conceive…

Freddy took Charlie into the back elevator, which deposited them into a long hallway that led directly to Parts & Service. After guiding her into the protective cylinder, he helped her get situated in the chair before stepping back.

“From what my initial scan tells me your design is similar to that of our Daycare attendant, which means that if necessary we might be able to use some of his spare parts,” Freddy explained. “We are programmed to do minor repairs on each other in case of emergencies, so hopefully I should be able to get your lower half into a more functional state, at the very least.”

He gestured to a little computer just outside the cylinder. “Normally the technicians use this computer system to guide repairs, but luckily the animatronics do not need to as we have the knowledge in here.” He tapped his temple with a bright blue claw. “Now, may I take a look and see what repairs I can do?”

There were perks of being a human soul trapped inside the vessel of a robot. One was being immune to pain. Though charred and mangled, Charlie disregarded any further damage to her body over the years. She’d been as careful as possible though, preserving herself fairly well.

Or, well enough until the fire. She was surprised to even be functional right now, honestly. Thankfully, despite the state of disrepair there was no discomfort.

“I’d appreciate it, Freddy.” Charlie always had a soft spot for the bear. When he functioned properly, Freddy was always the sweetest. This one in particular reminded her of the old days, before everything went wrong. Recalling countless nights eating pizza while watching to her father perform in the diner calmed her considerably as she was strapped into the worktable.

A soft blue light emitted from Freddy's eyes as he performed a more in-depth scan of the animatronic's condition. The upper half was functional—at least, functional enough not to require immediate repairs. The damage seemed mostly contained to the lower half, and the further down Freddy checked the more intense the destruction was. He frowned, blinking once to make the light recede.

“You were... in a fire?” he questioned, beginning to work on reconnecting the upper part of the Puppet's legs to the torso. Freddy had a feeling that he'd definitely need to use a few spares for the Daycare attendant, but hopefully just for the lowest portion so the Puppet could actually walk on her own again.

“A while ago… I think. I’ve been offline for a long time. They must’ve salvaged me again,” she explained vaguely.

Who, exactly? That was yet to be determined. Charlie was certain William was back—that much she knew. The only reason why her soul returned to its metallic cage had to be his work.

“Before that, I was the prize counter vendor. The children would come over… Watch me hand out gifts. Gifts are my specialty.”

“Oh, it must have been wonderful to see all the children's excited faces!” Freddy remarked, trying to focus on the good things while cataloguing the negative ones for reference later. He'd heard staff members and some of the older guests mention various fires at past Fazbear Entertainment franchises. However, the information uploaded to his memory banks regarding the company's history was surface-level at best. They had an image to maintain after all, and it wouldn't be good for their animatronics to divulge incidents that didn't match their shiny, fun brand.

“Myself and the rest of the Glamrock Band are also designed to hand out gifts, though we would never claim it to be our forte,” Freddy continued, carefully hooking wires into their appropriate slots. “We have stomach hatches that are specifically designed to hold oversized birthday cakes, piñatas, and presents.” He gave a short laugh. “I seem to be the one that uses this feature the most—not that I mind, of course.”

These guys had leagues of functionality above herself, Charlie realized. However, this didn’t bother her. After all, she could do something special—something that no one else could, living or mechanized.

Talking to the bear got easier and easier. As her wires were being stripped from the waist down, deft yet careful claws connecting and directing power back to her legs, Charlie nodded.

“I can’t remember the last time I saw a piñata,” she sighed, sounding far off and wistful again. “I’ve missed this place…”

It was an oddly mixed feeling, coming back time and time again. Bittersweet how the Pizzaplex brought back good memories of her family, biological and forged through fierce friendship… The location of the deceased Aftons was a mystery to her now that the fire had separated them. For one, singular night they’d all been together again: Evan—and Cassidy—in the age-old golden bear, dragged to the faux diner by Henry himself; Lizzie, in her crude, sharp clown attire; William, in that damned rabbit suit that gave him more power after death than it should’ve; and Michael, whose body had been dead for many years but still persisted with the same goal as the others—to take down his murderous father once and for all.

After so many years, the whole family was one, and Charlie got to see them perish in the flames right by her side. That should’ve been the end of all this… and yet here she was. Alone again, with no old friends in sight and no memory of how she’d even made it up here—and as always, missing every single one of the only children she couldn’t save.

Yes… as nice as her new Glamrock companion was, being back was also torturous.

“Well, surely you were salvaged for good reason—perhaps you are scheduled to be reinstated in some capacity,” Freddy suggested. He moved to the lower half of the spindly legs, though as soon as he touched one of the wires it let out a little spark that snapped at his fingers. He pulled his claws back with an annoyed hiss, and then... froze.

It hadn't actually hurt—he couldn't feel pain, after all... So why had he reacted as if he could? As if he'd been in this situation before, working on animatronic repairs and half-expecting the sting of electricity but still unprepared for when it actually happened?

The more he tried to focus on this feeling the more it slipped away, fading back into what must've been some errant coding gone awry.

“...My apologies,” the bear said after a moment, giving Puppet another smile. “I am going to have to find some parts, but they should be in one of those boxes; I will be right back.” He pointed to a set of shelves with containers labeled for each animatronic, then quickly stepped out of the cylinder before he could dwell on that experience any longer.

Charlie had reached out as Freddy turned, recognizing what just transpired.

Someone was inside.

With the hatches Charlie had just been informed about, she cringed at the mental image it brought. A body, gnarled and bloodied as it was stuffed into Freddy’s chest cavity. She hesitated in saying anything, though. No need to poke the bear, so to speak—especially when he was being so kind as to fix her.

The boxes across the room held parts alphabetized and sorted by animatronic specs. Closer to the bottom sat one for the Daycare attendant’s blueprints, and his electrical kit contained wires and relays similar to the Puppet’s structure. When Freddy returned, Charlie decided to bring up the new issue subtly.

“Sorry—I thought all the electricity in my legs was severed,” she remarked.

“No need to apologize; I am not hurt,” Freddy reassured, his expression sincere and calm as he began work on detaching what was left of the old limbs and replacing them with shiny new parts. “I am sorry for reacting like that—the spark must have mildly shocked my system.”

That surely had to be the reason—there was no other logical explanation, and Freddy's AI relied on logic to function properly. He lapsed into focused silence for a little while, though as he neared the end of the major repairs he perked up, his gaze briefly shifting to the Puppet's before focusing back on the legs.

“Oh, there is another question I wanted to ask you—Roxy was rather rude earlier addressing you as 'it', and I apologize in her stead. She... she is not quite herself, despite what I said to her directly.” He paused, a frown crossing his face—though only for a moment before returning to his usual friendly demeanor. “Regardless, since the name Charlie is different than the identifier in my memory banks, what pronouns do you prefer along with that name?”

Maybe Roxy’s cordiality had been accidentally deleted the last system update. What else would explain the severe lapse in manners?

“She. Charlie’s short for Charlotte,” she clarified. Then, an idea to get more information hit her and Charlie lifted her head to stare at the bear inquisitively. “I just realized, I never asked you if you’d like me to call you something else.”

Freddy opened his mouth to answer, though the name on the tip of his tongue was... not quite right. However, just like what happened after the earlier shock, this thought died nearly as soon as it appeared.

This wasn't good; something was definitely going on with Freddy's programming, yet no matter what internal diagnoses protocols he ran no alerts popped up to let him know what was wrong. Maybe this all had something to do with that malfunction he'd had on stage earlier that day... although the technicians had assured him that he'd been completely fixed and his systems were running in Safe Mode, so he should be even less apt to problems.

Freddy realized he'd been thinking too long when Charlie began shifting slightly in the chair. He only had a few more wires to reconnect, so he returned to that task as he answered.

“Oh, any variation of Freddy is fine—I will respond to anything resembling my name, as well as any tone of voice that appears to be calling for someone unless I am otherwise distracted. We animatronics all have our favorite nicknames for each other, which I am sure you will hear the longer you are around us.” He chuckled softly at the thought, hoping the others would be a bit more receptive to Charlie than Roxy.

It could just be an off-day for the wolf as well. After the way the show ended tonight, it wasn’t a surprise that she was a little grumpy. But even openly insulting people seemed so far off from the norm. Surely Chica or Monty would be faster pals with the good-natured Marionette. Charlie nodded to Freddy once more, still not fully convinced.

“You guys sure have a lot of neat features,” she said, her electrical meter gauging the connection back in her legs as she spoke. “We were pretty state of the art back in the day; impressing all the parents with our criminal database and rudimentary facial scanners.” She touched her face, aware of the thrumming mechanisms still at work behind the mask. “I had a few unique features, too. Dad made me unlike anyone else..."

She hoped it wasn’t out of place for her to liken their shared creator to Dad. Or, if it was, she just hoped Freddy wouldn’t question it.

...Now that word certainly prompted something—a visible wince that even Freddy couldn't brush off this time.

Dad.

Something about his personal relation to that word was incorrect. The thing was though, it had never held such a negative connotation for him until this moment. And again—he was able to shove the feeling down, though not without giving Charlie yet another apologetic smile, for she'd clearly seen him flinch.

“I am sorry, I... I malfunctioned during one of the stage shows earlier today, and I think I am still dealing with some of the after-effects,” the bear explained. He hooked one last wire, then released Charlie’s restraints and stepped back, his grin instantly flipping into a triumphant one. “But I will be fine, and more importantly, I have finished your repairs! You should be able to walk quite well now.”

Curling her flexible knees to her chest then stretching them back out again, Charlie was quick to hop up. She balanced immediately, as if she hadn’t been incapacitated this whole time.

“That’s so much better!” she rejoiced, looking to Freddy with gratitude. Turning, Charlie patted the chair, clearly in a better mood now that she could stand on her own. “If you haven’t been feeling well, maybe I should return the favor and take a look!”

“Ah—no, that is alright,” Freddy replied with a soft shake of his head. “I would not want to risk anything happening to you after you have just been salvaged. Perhaps I will ask the night guard to check; I feel it is more of a programming issue than a physical one, which she would be better at handling.” He paused, tilting his head in thought as he muttered to himself. “Although, I should return to my room first before contacting her so she does not get mad that I snuck out…”

That made sense; the Puppet supposed she’d take the help of a trained employee over the aid of a random, half-burned robot she’d met in the ball pit, too.

“Thanks again for your help,” she made sure to tell the big bear. “I… guess I’ll go find a place to rest for the meantime.”

The Daycare might be her best bet, she thought. It certainly felt comfy from the short time she’d been there. Of course she didn’t want to stay, but her soul had been pulled back yet again—presumably to try and defeat William and help any lost children in the process, saving them from her own tragic fate. Looking a little less disheveled, Charlie made her way towards the door in an attempt to find her way around the Pizzaplex.

“Oh, you cannot go out that way right now—that main door leads to the show stage, which is currently powered off. It would need to be activated from the sound booth before we can use it,” Freddy explained, then gestured towards the door they'd originally come from. “We need to go back through Roxy's room. Come along!”

He gave her another bright grin and stepped out of the cylinder, leading the way back. He already felt like himself again, the strange sensations from earlier completely gone. Still, it wouldn't hurt to have Vanessa check him out. As they walked, he glanced at Charlie.

“You may stay with me, if you would like. Surely Vanessa knows you are around, so if she does have time to stop by she will not be surprised to see you.” He blinked in slight confusion. “It is a bit strange that we were not given a proper introduction, though; the animatronics are usually gathered for a formal greeting whenever a new character is instated. Or, in this case, new to us.”

Charlie, for whatever reason she was brought here, hadn’t yet been retrofitted for the new tech. Everything felt simultaneously normal and wrong at the same time. She followed Freddy, every step taken muted by the plush stuffing surrounding her endoskeleton.

“I probably wasn’t supposed to come out yet,” Charlie mused, assuming whatever her purpose she would’ve needed to fit the style of this fresher looking brand. After all, someone had to have dredged her from the depths of the ruined diner, wherever that might be in relation to the Pizzaplex. She couldn’t have gotten here on her own without help, and she certainly would remember that... Probably.

As they passed Roxy she’d been fixing her mane, re-teasing her green stripe before setting it back into place. When she caught a glance of them through the mirror, she offered a fairly neutral: “Smell you guys later.”

Once back into the halls Charlie stayed behind Freddy, following him a short distance towards his own room. Before she could thank him for the accommodation a security bot sped by, causing the Puppet to spin in place before falling in a heap.

“Oh!” Freddy exclaimed, instantly bending to help her up. As he did so he stared after the bot, eyes wide as he watched it roam around with its flashlight held high like it was searching for something. That was certainly strange. He hadn't been alerted to any intruders, so maybe the bot was simply malfunctioning?

Everyone was a little strange tonight, it seemed...

“Are you alright?” the bear asked as the lanky Puppet was resituated back on her feet. “I do not know why they were moving so fast; usually they only patrol a designated area in a slow pattern...”

The Puppet let out a tiny oof! when she fell, quick to reach for Freddy’s paw. Grasping onto him and helping herself up, she couldn’t help but stare after the racing metal guard, too.

“Maybe it saw something? You guys don’t have break-ins, do you?” she asked, somewhat nervous to let go of Freddy’s arm. She was half-content to cling again like when her legs ceased all function earlier.

Freddy seemed perfectly amenable with her latching on. After all, he was used to dealing with excitable children all day, and being a walk-around character he was literally up close and personal with them for most of the time the Pizzaplex was open. Honestly, he much preferred the Puppet's grasp to dozens of sticky, cake-covered hands grabbing at him from every direction—at least he wouldn't need to be cleaned off after this.

“No, it is impossible for someone to break in right now,” Freddy said with a shake of his head. “The doors close at 12 am and are locked down until 6 am. No one can enter or leave.” He paused, humming slightly. “Unless someone got in before the doors closed... but I have not been alerted to a security threat, so perhaps it was just a malfunction?”

This system sure was buggy. Charlie hopped that they didn’t upgrade her body with whatever coding was making the robots act weird. At least she managed to find the only normal one… Gaining courage after Freddy’s assuring words, Charlie let go in favor of approaching the entrance to his room.

“Yeah. It has to be, right?” she agreed in a cheery tone, her mood improving the longer she spent with the friendly bear.

Freddy nodded in agreement, reaching for the door... and then he paused, ears twitching as his advanced hearing picked up on a sound further down Rockstar Row. It was a low growling, and as Freddy tuned in he swore he heard breaking glass as well. He pulled his hand back, automatically taking a step towards the sound with obvious concern on his expressive face.

“Ah, I am sorry,” he murmured, catching sight of Charlie out of the corner of his eye. “I think I can hear... well, I am not entirely sure. It sounds like one of my friends might be in distress.” His gaze shifted from the Puppet towards a room farther away. “Would you mind if I checked on him? You are welcome to come with me—in fact, perhaps it might be best... Something strange is happening tonight.”

He was sure the animatronic could handle herself if things went awry, but he felt a weird sort of protectiveness towards her—probably because he'd literally just helped put her back together. Even so, he was hesitant to leave her alone.

The mishap at the show that afternoon seemed to have started a chain reaction of events. Hopefully, whatever distressed friend waited around the corner was okay. Charlie was quick to abandon the idea of shelter in favor of preserving the animatronics.

“Let’s hurry then!” she agreed, already heading to the sound.

They didn’t have to walk far until they reached another room with “Montgomery Gator” in neon lights above it. The curtains were drawn and there was a sign saying Meet & Greets were currently unavailable, although this didn’t concern Freddy—he knew they’d been renovating Monty’s room the past few days so it was off-limits to guests.

“Monty?” Freddy called as he knocked on the door. The growling was loud and there were definitely things being thrown around, although this ceased instantly at his voice. Heavy footsteps stomped to the door, which was soon opened by a large green alligator.

“Huh? Hey, Fredbear, what’s up?” Monty asked, a faint southern twang in his deep voice. Pulling his glasses down on his snout to examine the visitors, his red eyes soon shifted to the lanky Puppet and he blinked a few times. “Whoa! Who’s this?! Never seen ‘em before!”

Monty was a might bigger than the Marionette, like the rest of the Glamrock crew. Charlie actually admired the design of the gator—she could already tell he’d be an instant hit with the more “rough and tumble” kids. She was also glad to see him a tad more accepting for conversation than Roxy was.

“I’m Charlie!” she introduced, waving a rubbery limb in greeting. “We heard stuff being thrown. Just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

At the moment, Monty appeared reasonable. There was likely a rational explanation for the haphazard tossing of his things. His growling and wayward destruction could simply be a matter of a lost item he was trying to find.

“’s nice to meet ya, Charlie!” Monty replied, setting his glasses back into place with a wide grin. He waved a nonchalant hand, looking back to Freddy. “And I’m fine—just, um… redecoratin’!”

Freddy narrowed his eyes, trying to peer around the gator’s bulky frame. However, he couldn’t see much… mostly because the room was almost completely dark.

“What happened to the lights?” the bear asked, and Monty let out a nervous laugh and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Oh, y’know… they went out!” His tail dragged slowly back and forth over the dirty floor as he gave the lame excuse.

A simple glance upward would prove the neon lights weren’t just out—there were breaks in the glass from chairs and tables being tossed about. Charlie wondered if he’d had a malfunction earlier, too. Why else would he have reason to lie?

Among her many talents, Charlie could play the part of detective. She casually looked past the gator’s arms and swore for a moment she saw something scurry out of the room towards the connected back halls.

“We caught him at a bad time, Freddy,” she remarked said as the small, shadowy figure hurled itself in through the closing door. “He was probably just looking for something, right?”

“Yeah, Charlie gets me!” Monty agreed with a vigorous nod. “I was lookin’ for my extra-special golf club… I think.”

In all honesty, he didn’t know why he was destroying his room. He was only half aware of doing it in the first place.

“Well, if you say you are alright…” Freddy trailed off, not sounding convinced in the slightest.

“I am!” Monty laughed loudly and patted Freddy on the shoulder, causing the bear to pitch forward with the force of it. “Loosen up, you ol’ bear! You’re always worryin’ about what everyone else is doin’!”

The expression on the Puppet’s mask remained unchanged, which Charlie was thankful for in times like this. She believed Monty’s uncertainty of his own actions, clearly not trying to worry his pal about what potentially went down in his room.

Charlie also knew they had to follow that shadow. It might help explain the quirky behavior and suspicion surrounding tonight.

“Well, we’ll get out of your way—if there’s any trouble, just holler!” she told the gator amiably, tugging on Freddy’s arm to signal it was time to go.

“I sure will!” Monty replied, giving them a wave. “See y’all later!”

And with that he abruptly shut the door in their faces. Freddy simply blinked at the closed metal for a few seconds, then gave a little sigh.

“He is not himself either,” the bear murmured, turning away and leading Charlie back towards his room. “Monty has a tendency to break things when he gets excited, though it is always an accident and he never means any harm… He has never damaged so much property like this at one time before.”

Charlie took a deep, simulated breath before patting the bear’s arm.

“Freddy,” she began gently, angling them towards Roxy’s room instead. “I know you may not want to hear this... But Monty was lying to you. I think he was chasing something in there. I saw it slip into the back rooms—I think it was heading for the maintenance lift!”

She spoke softly, keeping her head close to Freddy’s as they walked. The last thing she wanted was the strong gator hearing them from the comfort of his room. Looking directly into Roxy's living area showed that, against protocol, the wolf was no longer inside.

“What?” the bear frowned, though he allowed Charlie to guide him where she wished. “We… we are not programmed to lie. But… you say he was chasing something?”

“Yes, and I think we should go look for it; it might have something to do with everyone’s weird behavior,” Charlie suggested confidently.

Noticing that Roxy was no longer in her room, Freddy’s concerned expression only increased. She was often apt to sneaking out, though the fact that she was out tonight made him nervous. With a determined light in his eyes, he patted Charlie’s hand. “Yes, let us find out what Monty was going after. Maybe it will help us understand what is going on around here…”

Chapter Text

Let those who count on the light show rely on the time flow ‘cause the night is in slow motion

‘Cause all the people don’t know ‘bout the evil when it’s closing time…

Let those bound to their egos rely on the people when they break into cheering

The encore is lethal and there rises an evil when it’s closing time

~Closing Time by DHeusta~

Charlie was impressed at how undaunted Freddy was in keeping his friends safe. She could see herself getting along with the AI, working together to keep the oncoming strangeness at bay. It was always something going on with this franchise, her and the other souls having successfully cursed and tarnished its good name... Freddy Fazbear just attracted trouble now.

She sped into Roxy's space, finding it in the same condition they left it last. Thankfully the elevator to the Parts & Services room was still there and functional—and notably now on the basement level. Someone had been here just now, and there was a chance only they knew where that mysterious figure headed off to.

“Do you know what Monty might have been after?” Freddy asked as they stepped into the elevator once it’d been called. “Could it have been another animatronic? Or… oh no, perhaps there is an intruder?!”

If that was the case, Freddy would need to inform Vanessa right away so she could send out an alert for the bots to keep vigilant.

“No clue...,” Charlie admitted. The shadow was small; it could’ve been anything from another old animatronic sneaking around to—god forbid—a child.

Please, she thought, hopefully some kid isn't still trapped inside this place.

That never ended well.

“We're going to have to see when we get there. Don't worry, one of my main features is doubling as a security guard. I'll be able to tell if there's an intruder the moment I see it,” Charlie assured her newfound companion.

Lower and lower they descended until the doors opened to the long hallway they’d been in not thirty minutes prior. They traversed this cautiously, wary that their target might have bad intentions. When they finally reached the main room, the pair could see something moving underneath the light inside the protective cylinder.

Too preoccupied with working on what appeared to be a busted, scrappy Map Bot was a child. His face had a mosaic of blotchy bruises, some covered by bandages while one fresher wound leaked a dark trail down his cheek. It was clear by the twisted frown he wore that the project wasn't going in his favor. Ignoring the sweaty brown hair dangling in his face, the boy huffed and wiped his forehead with a dirty arm as he focused on the damaged robot.

“Oh my goodness,” Freddy murmured, pressing a paw over his mechanical heart. Not only was the sight of a child in the Pizzaplex after hours shocking in itself, but the state of the poor thing instantly set Freddy’s child safety protocols on high alert. He rushed over to the protective cylinder, tapping a claw against it rapidly to get the boy to stop whatever he was doing before he hurt himself even further.

“Hello, superstar!” Freddy called, using his generic nickname for children he was unfamiliar with. He managed to plaster on a smile, though didn’t quite register how a small kid might perceive a comparatively huge animatronic with glowing eyes looming at him through a window. “Can you please come out here? That is not a safe play area!”

Gregory failed to hear the words over the unfortunately-timed sound of him soldering a board inside  the Map Bot's head. Only after taking a quick pause between melting lines together did he look up and notice the unexpected company. His first instinct was to gasp aloud, throwing the delicate soldering irons away and hiding beneath the robotic operating table.

“Crap, not another one!” he exclaimed in momentary fear. It was bad enough the alligator that didn't know its own strength had him cornered for a good five minutes earlier, just running around and hoping they wouldn’t find each other in the dark. Now a bear and some creepy masked thing stared at him from outside the protective cylinder.

“What are you doing, buddy?! You could get hurt!” Charlie stressed, unnerving the kid further by the uncanny movements Puppet made as she spoke.

“Stay away from me!” he warned, grasping his tools to reprogram the dead bot as he hesitantly slunk out from under the table. The protective cylinder should stay locked down until he finished his repairs, unless these two knew a way to override it…

“Please do not be afraid; we are friends!” Freddy tried to assure, holding his palms up in a gesture of peace. Unfortunately, as the boy correctly guessed he couldn’t enter the cylinder now that there were active repairs going on unless it was opened from the inside—otherwise Freddy would march right in and pull the child away from danger. For now, all he could do was try to reason with him.

“I am Freddy and this is Charlie,” the bear went on, gesturing to himself and the Puppet. “We only want to help you. We mean no harm!” His expression softened ever-so-slightly, seeing the fairly recent cut on the boy’s cheek that was oozing a little bit of blood. “Please, superstar—I can see that you are injured. At least let us help you get cleaned up, and then you can go back to fixing that Map Bot.”

Freddy wasn’t actually going to let him back in the cylinder of course, but he needed the boy to come out. Besides, he wasn’t completely lying—he might help fix up the bot after tending to his injuries… meaning Freddy could do the repairs while the child watched safely outside with Charlie.

The kid ceased his soldering again, glaring at Freddy for a second. Though… something about the bear read as more sincere than the others, like he really did genuinely want to help. So far the promises of animatronics had done nothing but almost get him killed, hence his initial suspicion. None of the others had tried to approach him so gently before, however—as far as he could tell, Freddy was the only one acting like he was supposed to.

Why was this kid so flighty? Charlie wondered. And why in the world was he trying to reprogram a robot, anyway?

She was left to ponder these things on her own while she hung back, not wanting to discourage the child as she watched him hesitantly approach the emergency unlock button.

“I'm fine, seriously. Just a few scrapes,” the boy attempted to soothe. “If you two really wanna help me, I need to get the heck out of here!”

“We can certainly help with that. Charlie, there should be a first aid kit nearby; would you mind finding it?” Freddy asked, glancing at Puppet briefly while the lock deactivated. As soon as the cylinder door opened Freddy was quick to usher the boy out, though he was careful not to actually touch him—the child was clearly on edge, and the last thing Freddy wanted was for him to run. Instead, the bear crouched down to be more on his level, bright eyes emitting a blue glow as he conducted a general wellness scan.

“Hmm… your guest profile is unknown to me,” Freddy commented with a frown. He got another one of those random flashes of familiarity when gazing upon this kid’s wide-eyed face. But as his database claimed, there was absolutely no record of him in the ever-expanding guestbook. “What is your name? And what are you doing in the Pizzaplex after hours?”

Charlie was quick to help out in any way she could. Her fast movements unnerved the boy, and he was finding it hard to answer as Freddy calmly asked him questions.

“...G...Gregory. I'm Gregory,” he replied unconvincingly, like even he wasn’t sure what to call himself right then and there. As for his reason for trespassing? That was a long story that none of them had time for, so he settled on the mega-condensed version: “Some lady’s been chasing me since the concert!”

It's not like staying overnight was his goal. The Pizzaplex was an easy place to get lost in—a good spot for sneaking food and soda until his stomach pains could finally lessen enough to let him sleep. When he woke just in time for the concert, Gregory knew he was being followed. That blonde security guard must’ve known about his week-long pilfering of the Pizzaplex’s delicacies, returning and crashing as many kid's parties as possible if it caught him a free meal. Instead of kicking him out though, for some weird reason he had the feeling the guard wanted him to stay.

“A lady was chasing you?” Freddy repeated, frowning slightly. That was strange, although at least Gregory’s comment about the concert explained why he was familiar—Freddy must have seen him in the crowd before he malfunctioned. “…This woman does not happen to have long blonde hair in a ponytail, does she? Likely also wearing a security guard cap?”

If it was Vanessa that chased him, Freddy completely understood why. She was just trying to find Gregory and get him home. Still… Freddy couldn’t ignore how odd it was that Vanessa wouldn’t alert him and the other animatronics to a wayward child sneaking around.

“You've seen her, too! I think she's pretending to be a guard or... or… maybe she’s just completely nuts!” Gregory’s mind raced with possibilities of who this psychotic child-napper might be. Either that, or he was just paranoid. When the Puppet approached him from behind and touched a cotton ball full of antiseptic to his cheek, Gregory hissed and pulled away.

“I-I'll do that myself; thank you,” he murmured, obviously fearful of that jester-like appearance.

Charlie deferred to his preference, handing off the cotton ball and asking the question that’d been on Freddy’s mind. “I thought security let you all know when there’s a missing child?”

There was something fishy going on at the Pizzaplex for sure. No one's stories added up tonight.

“She is supposed to,” Freddy murmured, watching Gregory patch himself up. The boy made quick work of his injuries, as if he was quite familiar with taking care of them himself—an odd concept for a child who appeared to be no more than twelve. Freddy hadn’t forgotten about Gregory’s lack of explanation for why exactly he was in the Pizzaplex after hours, but decided not to press the issue just yet.

“The woman who has been chasing you is the security guard—head of security and night guard, specifically. Her name is Vanessa,” Freddy explained instead, giving the boy a reassuring smile. “I am sure she did not mean to scare you—she just wants to make sure you get back to your parents safely.”

Gregory would vehemently shake his head in denial at this. “You don't understand! She's bad news—that lady was trying to take me to the backrooms!”

Sure, she had told him that she was going to notify his parents, which already made him struggle to get away. Then things had gotten out of hand, and before long Gregory found himself running and hiding from the night guard like a fugitive trying to escape prison.

“Please, pleeeeease don't tell her I'm with you!” he begged, eyes wide and scared as he stilled his self-repairs.

It was Charlie's turn to look nervous, fidgeting and locking her fingers together in front of herself before fetching a Chica-themed bandage. Carefully, moving slow so as not to spook him further, she patched it over Gregory's cheek to his own chagrin.

“Hey, don’t worry; we're not going to let anything bad happen to you,” she assured the not-so-convinced kid.

“Unfortunately, I am required to report all missing children to staff; it is a safety protocol,” Freddy said with an apologetic shake of his head. He closed his eyes, trying to connect to the internal network used for communication between staff members and animatronics… then he frowned.

“…It seems the network is down—I am unable to connect.” He paused for just a moment before flashing Gregory another smile, this one much friendlier than before. “Well, it seems as though you are stuck with us for now!” The bear stood with a chuckle, briefly turning his thankful grin on the Puppet. “As Charlie said, we will keep you safe—and I will not try to tell Vanessa you are here again. I promise.”

Gregory had deflated with relief at that consolation. The last thing he needed was for the only nice animatronics to rat him out. Slinking around to stand in front of him, Charlie stared at Gregory and hoped to come across sympathetic.

“She brought down the network herself. Bet.” Gregory scoffed, appreciating the first friendly faces he'd met tonight even if he was still on edge from his first encounters with the Glamrock crew.

“What makes you think she'd do that?” Charlie asked, earning a quick, almost accusatory glare from Gregory.

“She's weird!” he exclaimed. “Off—Like, I can't explain it. There's just something not right about her...”

“I can concede that Vanessa’s personality can be a bit… abrasive, at times,” Freddy said, earning him a raised eyebrow from the boy. “But I do not know why she would ever sabotage the network—it would be counterproductive for her job.” He let out a small sigh. “Regardless, we should try to see what is wrong; with the connection severed, I cannot communicate with my fellow animatronics either, and this is not the night for me to be unable to do so.”

Freddy went silent for a moment, then thought aloud: “We should go to a security office. It will be the safest place for Gregory to stay for the rest of the night, and I can see if I am able to reset the network myself. There are multiple offices throughout the building, so we can avoid the ones Vanessa will likely be in. The only caveat is that we need to find an access key, as animatronics are normally barred from entering…” He looked to Charlie questioningly. “What do you think of that plan? I know you were just awoken, but as a former security bot I value your opinion.”

Charlie thought about it alright. The kid held his own for a long time, and with the resources they’d find at the security office he could survive the night just fine. She nodded to Freddy, agreeing. “I'm sure as long as one of us is with him, Gregory will be okay. I've seen the night guards go against much, much worse...”

There was no time to elaborate on what Charlie was used to seeing as a security bot, for she’d gotten up and told Freddy excitedly: “You watch him; I'll look for a pass!”

“There should be an easily accessible one in the Daycare. But—” Freddy grimaced, instinctively reaching for Charlie as she began to move away. “—perhaps we should all stay together. You are still learning the layout of the Pizzaplex, and I… I do not like the thought of either one of you wandering on your own, especially with how the others have been acting.”

Gregory visibly flinched at the mention of the other animatronics. Freddy narrowed his eyes, though out of concern more than suspicion. A horrible inference made him suck in a simulated gasp.

“Gregory, we found you because Charlie spotted you running out of Monty’s room. Did he…” Freddy could barely get the words out, the situation was so unfathomable. But that scratch on Gregory’s cheek sure seemed to match a certain gator’s claws. “Did Monty… hurt you?”

Charlie gulped at the likely conclusion, while Gregory’s face had scrunched at the recent memory.

“If you guys didn’t show up, I didn’t know what would’ve happened.” Gregory’s palm never left his injured cheek as he recalled the aggressive encounter. “Monty had me cornered… If the dummy hadn’t broken the lights, he would’ve torn me to shreds!”

Charlie looked up to Freddy, wholly concerned for Gregory’s wellbeing as she encased the reluctant boy in her arms. She wasn’t about to say to Freddy that she told him so—the look of disappointment in the bear’s eyes spoke leagues of his upset.

“Oh, superstar… I am so, so sorry,” Freddy said, bending down to hug onto the pair as well. Outwardly, he wore an expression of utmost compassion. Internally, he was beside himself—how could Monty even fathom the thought of injuring a child, let alone actually do so?!

“Something has gone terribly wrong tonight,” the bear murmured, holding the pair close. “It is physically impossible for us to injure a human; there must be an issue with Monty’s programming.” He paused, frowning in distress. “And possibly Roxy’s. Oh goodness, what if Chica is affected as well?!”

The first two going haywire were bad enough, but Freddy couldn’t comprehend the thought of Chica, his most docile and friendly bandmate, turning against those she was programmed to protect. 

Gregory wasn’t the biggest fan of being touched, though between the squishy Puppet and Freddy’s protective bear hug the act made his eyes water a little. Their affection might’ve been simulated, but a kind gesture was still enough to get to the young child after the life he’d been through.

“They’re still our friends,” Charlie reminded Freddy, sympathetic to his worry. “They’re probably just a little… sick.” She paused, tilting her long neck in thought. “Should we check on Chica?”

There was a good chance even the sweetest bandmate had turned, though it might be worth finding her if she was still unaffected by whatever this glitch was.

“Yes… let us check on her on the way to the Daycare,” Freddy agreed. He released Gregory from his embrace to stand again, automatically running a soothing claw through the boy’s messy hair as he did so. The gesture was instinctive and startlingly human—even for the Glamrock’s advanced AI. Before he could analyze this, Freddy lightly shook his head and glanced towards Roxy’s service elevator.

“Gregory, I request that you hold onto one of our hands while we walk in open areas or by any place the Glamrocks might roam, such as their rooms,” the bear said, holding out a paw with a gentle smile. “That way we can be sure to protect each other, alright?”

Or, more specifically, it would be easy for him or Charlie to snatch the boy up into their arms and run if the others went haywire.

Gregory looked at the outstretched paw. His wariness of the robots persisted, though Freddy and Puppet had plenty of chances to crush or maim him already… and so far they’d been nothing but kind and sympathetic. Really, Gregory reasoned he had nothing to worry about as long as he was with either of them. With minimal hesitation, he reached out and grasped Freddy’s proffered hand.

“Okay—but if Chica’s just as crazy as the rest of them, I’m gone,” he warned.

“Noted,” Freddy replied with a nod. Though he felt like Gregory would be safest under his watch, he completely understood the boy’s flight response kicking in when faced with a huge, crazed, metal machine. He gestured for Charlie to follow as he headed back towards Roxy’s elevator. “Come on. Let us see how Chica is doing.”

Charlie alternated between leading the way and making sure there wasn’t anything following them. Trudging warily out of the elevator and through Roxy’s room, Gregory stuck to Freddy’s side like glue. As much as he’d like to pretend he wasn’t scared, the kid shook like a leaf as he kept a close lookout for any other animatronics.

Turning the corner to enter Chica’s area, she seemed pretty normal through the glass window. Wailing on the guitar expertly, she was distracted making sure her finger joints were articulated enough for the next show.

“Please stay behind me for a moment, superstar,” Freddy instructed, gently pushing Gregory behind his legs. He still kept the boy’s hand in a firm grip, though when this was also placed around his back the tiny child was completely hidden.

“Hello, Chica! I have some new friends for you to meet!” the bear called, waving with his free hand to get her attention. Just like the others, Chica appeared normal at first glance. He really hoped she was still her usual self—it would be great to have another ally on their side.

At the cheerful call of her bandmate, Chica startled from her music-making.

“Freddy!” She let out a happy squawk, quick to place her guitar in its stand and unlock her door. “New friends? Oh man, I’m, like, totally stoked! Where at?” Before she’d even stopped speaking, she caught sight of Puppet slinking around to introduce herself.

“Charlie—it’s nice to meet you, Chica.” The lanky Marionette offered a hand, which the bird with the worn down, fretted fingers took eagerly.

“Totally rad to meet you, Charlie! Any friend of Freddy’s is a pal of mine!”

Feeling Gregory startle at Chica's excitable voice, Freddy gave the boy's hand a reassuring squeeze. The bear smiled easily, happy that this interaction between this bandmate and Charlie was the best so far. Maybe Chica really was safe, just like him.

“Charlie was recently salvaged,” Freddy explained, wanting to observe a bit longer before revealing the child. Gregory was definitely not going to come out willingly, anyway; his free hand gripped onto Freddy’s arm as if it were a lifeline out at sea. “We are not sure what role she will play in the Pizzaplex, but as an older model she has a lot of interesting knowledge about the previous restaurants that are not in our databanks!”

“For real?!” Chica inquired, looking surprised as she leaned against the doorframe. “Well, if you ever need any accessories or whatever, I totally got you covered!” 

After Monty was introduced to the band, she’d given him a favored pair of sunglasses to make him feel more comfortable as part of the official lineup—and to reassure him that Chica had no ill-will towards him for replacing Bonnie. Surely she had something she could impart to Charlie as well!

“That’d be awesome!” Charlie replied in a friendly tone as she glanced inside the bird’s room. She certainly felt more welcomed by Chica than the others so far, and it gave her a sense of hope for Gregory’s introduction.

“How wonderful!” Freddy exclaimed, his worry fading by the second. Chica was just fine. And not only that, but he could already tell that she and Charlie were going to become fast friends.

As the girls chatted about what accessories they favored, Freddy spared a glance behind him. Raising his eyebrow in silent question, he shifted his gaze from Gregory to the bird and back again. He wasn't going to reveal the boy unless he was ready, although since Chica wasn't malfunctioning like the others Freddy knew she would adore having a new kid to hang out with—despite the circumstances of him being here after hours.

Gregory held his breath as Freddy looked to him. Chica acted like how she was on stage, and her bubbly personality drew Gregory to peek out from behind Freddy’s leg. He remained quiet, waiting for an opportunity to formally greet her.

However, when Chica spotted the boy something in her composure snapped. Her neck joint relaxed, causing her head to tilt as one eye drooped. Her speech stilled in the middle of talking, causing Charlie to worry.

“Ch… Chica?” she asked, tentatively reaching out to touch the Glamrock. Just before she made contact, the chicken suddenly raised a jerky arm and pointed directly at Gregory.

“Intruder! Security alert!”

Chapter Text

Lights on

Keep them up or I’m gone…

Stay where I can see you

And be where I can reach you

Escape the trouble you’re into

Keep the lights bright, kid, or you will be through

~Lights On by Kyle Allen Music~

Freddy didn't hesitate, instantly hoisting Gregory into his arms and running as fast as he could, moving purely on the instinct to get the child to safety. He only started to process what he'd just seen after he started running, clutching Gregory close as he heard Chica move after them. Her loud footsteps trailed behind, which only made Freddy go faster.

She'd been perfectly fine until Gregory showed his face. Even if she registered him as an “intruder,” she shouldn't have started chasing him... It almost seemed like her programming reset at the sight of the child.

Freddy couldn’t deny it any longer: there was definitely some sort of glitch or bug infecting all of his bandmates.

However, the bear wasn’t able dwell on this too much, needing to get Gregory to safety immediately. He spared a thought for Charlie as well, hoping she was alright—though she clearly wasn't the focus of Chica's attention.

Charlie had been trailing them, trying to distract the chicken to no avail. It was when Freddy and Gregory almost reached the rockstar’s room that she made a last-ditch move, sticking out a gangly leg to trip their pursuer. Chica let out a scared squawk before hitting the ground, causing a metallic scrapping noise as she slid across the linoleum floors. Crawling over Chica’s momentarily incapacitated body, Puppet muttered an apology as she attempted to catch up to the boys.

Gregory had shrieked once, then shut his eyes as Freddy scooped him into his arms and sped away. “Don’t let her eat me!”

Freddy simply held Gregory as tight as he could without unintentionally cutting off his air flow. He winced as he heard Chica's distress and the metallic scraping, but did his best to ignore it. Soon they all made it into his room and he slammed the door shut behind Charlie.

“Close the curtains!” Freddy hissed, moving Gregory to the far corner by the arcade machine. He could see Chica coming towards them again, but he had a theory. “She went haywire when she saw Gregory—maybe if we cut him off from view she will calm down, or at least lose interest for the time being!”

Charlie was huffing, as if running had actually tired her out. She did as instructed, drawing the heavy red curtains shut save for a tiny sliver that she peered one eye through. Morbid curiosity prompted Gregory’s attempt to look out as well, but his vision was successfully blocked by both Freddy and the drapes.

Outside, the now-limping Chica grew more and more confused. Why… was she in the middle of Rockstar Row? Wasn’t she just talking with Freddy and Charlie in her room? And why was she hurt, too? Internal processing relayed to her that she has minor dents in her hip joint now, preventing her leg from stretching out smoothly as she walked.

“What the heck…?” she could be heard muttering, rubbing the sore spot briefly before deciding it best to walk back to her room.

“Freddy! All your friends are psycho!” Gregory accused as he was finally set down, plopping onto the orange couch.

“I am so sorry, Gregory,” the bear apologized, kneeling down and conducting a health scan of the boy. Thankfully there were no new injuries from their brief scare, only an elevated heart rate that was already slowing to a normal pace. “My friends are not themselves—I promise you that they would never do this under normal circumstances. As Charlie said earlier, they are just... sick.” He glanced at the Puppet, giving her a grateful smile before looking back to Gregory.

“But we still have one friend on our side!” He patted the lithe animatronic's shoulder as she came over to join them. “Thank you for your help, Charlie. Chica was faster than I expected...”

Charlie was surprised at the gentleness of Freddy’s pat. The genuine praise almost made the short scare worth it, along with the good health of the child under their care. When Charlie saw the look of upset still lingering on Gregory’s face—distrust, even—she assured him: “I was never updated with the new operating system. If this is a glitch, it’d never affect me.”

While she spoke, she comfortably leaned against Freddy’s side. It was nice to have friends again, even if one of them was still wary of her. After a moment of tense staring Gregory visibly deflated, convinced enough by Charlie’s and Freddy’s testimonies of their good intentions.

“What am I gonna do now? I can’t stay here—Vanessa’s gonna end up finding me,” he pointed out glumly.

“We are still getting you to a security office,” Freddy said, shifting so Charlie’s embrace was more secure. He didn’t mind her hanging off him at all—in a vague way, it almost reminded Freddy of a kid who’d found their favorite animatronic and just wanted to be close to them. Not that he assumed he was Charlie’s favorite, but it was nice to know that she was still comfortable with him despite how the other Glamrocks were acting.

“We need to go the Daycare and get that security badge,” Freddy continued. “I do not know what level clearance it will give us, but it will allow access to at least one office. They are designed to lock from the inside and be impenetrable to animatronics, so we will be safe in there.”

Unless the power goes out…

The random thought only crossed Freddy’s mind for a second, but it was enough to give him pause. He glanced down at Gregory, but his only urge was to protect. It was just a wayward concern; he was fine.

“So the plan is—” Charlie started, pulling away from Freddy as she slunk a protective arm around the kid now. “—we’re going to bring you to the Daycare, then we’ll find that pass!” She tried to promote the idea as if it were a piece of cake, despite the horrible way things had been going tonight.

Gregory eased into the notion of the more hands-on Puppet, no longer fidgeting at her embrace. He wondered briefly if robots could be touch-starved, but quickly banished the thought with a hesitantly optimistic look. “Y-Yeah! This should be easy with you guys here.”

“As easy as pizza-pie!” Freddy agreed, willing this to be true. “The only animatronic we have to be wary of is the Daycare attendant, although he is equipped with much more stringent child safely protocols than the others since he watches over babies and toddlers.” He gave the pair a reassuring smile. “I doubt he will be as easily affected by a virus, but we will keep Gregory close all the same.”

Freddy peered out the curtains, looking around intently. He was about to proclaim that the coast was clear when he caught a flash of white fabric, then a shining light. His eyes widened as he saw none other than Vanessa coming down the hallway, heading right for his room. The light caught Charlie’s attention and she joined him at the window, looking through the darkness and committing the night guard’s face to memory.

A rapid search through Puppet’s old criminal databanks to see if Vanessa matched anyone pulled up… nothing. Vanessa was clean. Maybe there was a chance that she hadn’t been behind this system glitch—could she truly just be doing a security guard’s job for once and actually trying to help a lost child?

Unfortunately, they didn’t have time to find out. Quickly pulling the curtains closed, Freddy ushered the others towards the back storage area.

“Vanessa is coming; hide in the back and do not make a sound!” Freddy instructed. “I will send her away as quickly as I can.”

With alarming speed, Charlie dragged Gregory through the door and into a storage locker. Her plush innards protected and kept him still, while also reducing the noise inside the locker—a good thing, since Gregory instantly started to protest to the man—er, robot-handling.

“Hey!” he yelped, unsure how he felt about being so immobilized.

Charlie simply fixed her hand over his mouth, squeezing him with gentle reassurance. “Shh.”

“Hello, Officer Vanessa!” Freddy said cheerfully as the guard stomped into his room without so much as a greeting. “To what do I owe the pleasure—?”

“Shut it, Freddy,” Vanessa snapped, poking her head into the storage area and scanning the room with her flashlight. Her gaze roamed over the boxes, extra merchandise, and lockers, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. With an annoyed click of her tongue, she backed out and faced the bear directly, placing one hand on her hip as she turned the flashlight on him accusingly. “You see a kid around here? Small, brown hair, blue shirt?”

“Ah—no, I am sorry.” Freddy shook his head, the amiable smile still plastered on his face. Despite his earlier claims of the animatronics' strict truth-telling protocols, he found it surprisingly easy to lie to the guard. “I have been in my room all night, as per staff instructions.”

“Ugh, great.” Vanessa rolled her eyes, already heading for the door. She certainly seemed like she was on a mission tonight. “Well, that kid is loose after hours… so if you see him come by, grab him and bring him to me, okay? The communication channels are down. Oh—” She whirled around, her hand on the door. “—but don’t wander around outside of Rockstar Row; you’re still on lockdown after that fiasco on stage earlier. Got it?”

“Understood.” Freddy nodded. The guard stared at him with narrowed eyes for a moment longer, then turned and rushed out to continue her search.

It was a few seconds after the door slammed shut before Puppet decided to open the locker. Gregory sat in her lap, folded cross-legged as he murmured curses aimed at the night guard.

“Language, Gregory,” Charlie reminded him, helping the boy to his feet before slinking out of the tight space. “Though I can’t say I blame you—Vanessa was awfully mean to you, Freddy…”

Charlie was aware that Freddy was just an AI. However, despite how simulated his feelings were, at some point they crossed a line and it was clear by the tilt of his eyebrows that people being unkind seemed to cause the big guy general discomfort.

“Yeah, ‘cause she’s a bad lady!” Gregory attempted to convince them both.

“She is certainly a bit more abrasive than usual tonight,” Freddy conceded. He ran another soothing paw over Gregory’s head, hoping to calm the boy down somewhat. He’d caught the tail end of his tirade of curses and wondered where in the world he’d learned such things… but that was a topic to address later. “But Vanessa is not bad; she simply wants to return you to your parents, Gregory.”

Even Freddy didn’t sound totally convinced by his own words. He met Charlie’s gaze, and though her expression was unreadable he could feel her mutual suspicion towards the night guard.

“I will keep your presence under wraps, though,” Freddy reassured, holding out his hand for Gregory to take again. “Hopefully once she sees what is happening with the other animatronics, she will be more inclined to help them first and pause her search for you.” With luck, Vanessa would notice the rampaging and rule-breaking robots and shift her focus to curbing their destruction.

Gregory felt conflicted. He didn’t want to argue with Freddy or the Puppet, his only friends in the Pizzaplex. But something about Vanessa just rubbed him the wrong way…

Charlie left their sides momentarily as she peeked into the hall. No sign of Vanessa or the Glamrock crew. Turning her head 180 degrees, she looked back at her companions and pointed to the exit.

“Good news; she’s already gone! Let’s hoof it to the Daycare before any of them see us,” Charlie suggested, shuffling back towards Gregory.

Better news would’ve been hearing that all the locked doors were suddenly broken, Gregory thought. But he perked up at their eagerness to assist. “Thanks for helping me, you guys. I don’t think my idea on reprogramming that dumb Map Bot would’ve done all that much…”

Those bots couldn’t think or act as swiftly as the Puppet or Freddy anyway. Gregory would’ve just been toting along dead weight.

“Yes… I applaud your resourcefulness, superstar, but how about you leave any mechanical repairs to Charlie and I from now on?” Freddy said, though by his tone it clearly wasn’t a question. He gave Gregory’s hand a reassuring squeeze and opened the door, stepping out into the hallway. “Alright, stay close by me, you two.”

He hurried out, Gregory in tow beside him and Charlie keeping watch as she’d done before. They made a beeline for the Daycare and thankfully made it without encountering anymore wayward animatronics or night guards. Freddy pressed a hand against a key pad, which caused the first of two large garage-style doors to open. As they neared the drop-off area, they passed a large metal pod with a bright blue lightning bolt emblazoned on the front. Freddy paused, blinking a few times.

“Hmm… my battery is at half charge,” he announced, voice echoing through the open space. “I should be alright until we retrieve the security pass, but I will need to recharge afterwards to be at peak performance; my battery does not sustain itself as well in Safe Mode.”

“Safe Mode, huh?” Charlie thought that would’ve come in handy back in the day. She spared a brief glance back at Freddy, watching as Gregory grasped the bear’s hand tighter out of instinct. “I’d offer to turn it off, but that could be the only reason why you’re not acting weird like the others.”

“No, you are right—it is best to leave my Safe Mode on for now,” Freddy agreed, completely understanding the Puppet’s concern. The last thing he wanted was to become a threat to Gregory as well. He couldn’t live with himself if another kid—

Freddy blinked again. If another kid… what?

The thought was lost in an instant. With a shake of his head, Freddy peered through the protective netting surrounding the play area and let out a sigh. Charlie watched as Gregory parted from them to try and sneak behind. His goal was to find the keycard after all.

“Don’t go too far ahead, Gregory,” Charlie felt the need to say, her eye catching movement atop the theatrical balcony towards the ceiling of the rainbow room.

“Oh, Sun closed the door again…,” Freddy murmured, looking around for the attendant. Whatever movement Charlie caught was gone by the time his eyes fell upon the balcony, Sun having not realized there were visitors yet and retreated back to his room. Freddy thought for moment, then offered a suggestion. “Gregory, would you like to take Charlie with you down the slide? That is the quickest way into the play area; the security office pass should be at the desk near the wooden doors. You will probably be able to grab it by the time I am able to get down there myself, since you are both so fast!”

He offered the boy a bright grin. He was hesitant to let Gregory leave his side of course, but with Charlie there to protect him surely he’d be alright for a few minutes. And besides, going down the slide and landing in a ball pit would help Gregory feel like a normal kid again, if only for a moment.

Gregory glanced to the bright plastic tube. Somehow the “Slide into fun!” sign made him uneasy. There probably wasn’t any fun to be had down there—just more robots trying their best to eat his brains. However, Freddy’s confidence in him allowed Gregory to approach the slide tentatively.

“You can count on us, Freddy!” Charlie assured, grasping onto the boy’s waist before flinging them both down. If they were going to be in potential danger, they might as well make their entrance fun!

Gregory gasped, though enjoyed the short ride before landing in the ball pit below. Upon their arrival, Puppet decided to look around. Freddy mentioned a Daycare attendant, and she thought it would be smart to gauge whether or not they would be safe enough to let near Gregory.

“Charlie, let me up!” the kid griped, but was shushed by his companion.

“Just hang tight; I’m scoping it out.” Charlie spoke in a whisper, gently covering Gregory with a few more of the plastic balls around them for good measure.

“But the ball pit smells funny!” he groaned as Charlie swam ahead in the sea of toys.

“Oh ho ho!”

Suddenly, there was a loud yell from the little stage. Summoned by the noise of plastic clinking together, Sun stepped out onto the platform. Before Freddy had a chance to call out on his long way around to the door, the lanky animatronic clasped his hands above his head and dove.

“Hello there!” Sun exclaimed, popping up in the pit directly in front of Charlie. The Daycare attendant was the tallest animatronic in the Pizzaplex they’d encountered so far, though his tendency to jump around and sway made this fact a little hard to tell at first glance. Sun looked Charlie over with a gasp, pressing his hands to the sides of his face—like him, this new animatronic wore a mask with a static expression.

“Oh, a new friend!” Sun cheered, reaching forward and shaking one of Charlie’s hands vigorously. “It’s sooo nice to meet you! I’m Sun! What’s your name?!”

In an almost comical manner, the Puppet’s arm wiggled like a piece of limp spaghetti in Sun’s grip. Eager, and maybe a little too friendly, but Charlie didn’t mind it. She attempted to shake his hand back, but there was no chance she could match his fast-paced rhythm.

“I’m the Puppet!” she laughed, the initial grasp of her face making her laugh. At least there was one other animatronic that looked like her now. “My friends call me Charlie. It’s swell to meet you!”

Maybe there was a chance she could distract the Sun while Gregory found the keycard…

“Is this where you live?” she asked, holding onto the Sun’s hand to keep him focused on her. “I’m new to the Pizzaplex; you should show me around!”

“Mmm-hmm!” Sun nodded, his whole body seeming to move with the gesture. “My room’s up there, but I spend most of my time out here in the play area! Are you going to work in the Daycare—?”

He stopped mid-sentence, catching movement behind Charlie. Someone else was in the ball pit, and they were a lot smaller than any animatronic Sun knew of. Without hesitation the Daycare attendant dropped Charlie’s hand and shifted past her before she could react.

“Well hello, little sunbeam!” he exclaimed, reaching into the colorful plastic to grasp Gregory under the shoulders and hoist him into the air. Unlike previous animatronics, Sun gave no indication that he was distressed by the child’s presence—in fact, this discovery only seemed to make him more excited, and he jumped from foot to foot with Gregory swinging gently in his grasp. “You're sure up late! Are we having a slumber party?!”

Gregory was ready to fight him, little fists balled up as he was scooped from the pit… but he sputtered for a moment at the cheery question. It was both a relief and confusing for Gregory to see the attendant in such a good mood and not attempting to rip his head off.

“Slumber party?” he asked tentatively. Kicking his little legs did no good to sway out of Sun’s grip. Those delicate mechanical hands held him firmly off the ground with no chance of escape.

“Uh… Right, I was going to take him to the security office! Me and Gregory were looking for the access cards. Right, Greg?” Charlie asked, hoping the boy would play along.

“R-Right! Yeah, I’m a lost kid!” Gregory said, putting on his best pair of sad puppy dog eyes.

Another gasp, another concerned little squeeze of Gregory's torso—not aggressive in the slightest, though Sun's grip wasn't going to loosen anytime soon.

“Oh no, oh no!” Sun exclaimed, carrying Gregory out of the ball pit. He began making his way towards the other side of the room, chattering all the while. “Don't worry, we'll get you all sorted and back with your parents in no time! Hmm... Although it's after hours, so you'll probably need to stay with the night guard for a bit.”

Sun paused, tilting his head as he tried to connect to Vanessa. To his surprise, he was unable to do so.

“Huh... the network’s down,” he commented, staring ahead for a moment longer before resuming his walk. “Well, that's okay! We do have an access card for the security office at the desk, although according to the rules neither of us is allowed to go back there! Charlie, you might not know this since you're new, but we have to follow the Daycare rules or we'll get in trouble! There aren't too many, though—but staying away from the security desk is one of them.”

Finally, Sun stopped near a stack of metal cans. “You can just wait here and play with me and Charlie until the night guard stops by on her rounds, okay?! Ooh, we're going to have so much fun!”

They were in a tight spot here. With Freddy most likely waiting outside attempting not to be caught himself and the promise of them surely being in trouble should they go behind the check-in counter, Charlie’s last resort was to pull a fast one on the friendly Sun. Meeting Gregory’s gaze as he peered down from Sun’s arms, she hoped her static, expressionless face would convey the wink she wanted to give him.

“Yeah! Gregory, you gotta show us how high you can stack those cans!” she said, suggesting something that would cause Sun to put him down.

“Seriously?” Gregory wanted to scoff. He was twelve, and this place was obviously for babies. For a second, he’d been sure the Puppet was serious. Though as she tugged on Sun’s pants, beckoning him astray, he got the picture.

“Oh… Ooohh, totally! I’ll build the biggest tower you’ve ever seen!” Gregory promised, turning his toothy smile on the tall animatronic.

“Come on, Mr. Sun! You gotta show me around the most spectacular attraction at the Pizzaplex!” Charlie’s words held some forced excitement, just wanting to get this over with—even if she did gravitate towards this area more than the rest of the attractions.

“Oh, um... okay!” Sun agreed, somewhat reluctantly setting Gregory down and letting Charlie tug him forward. His first instinct would always be to watch after the children in his Daycare, although seeing as how there was only one kid right now and he was clearly older than those Sun usually took care of—and therefore, more independent—he was okay showing Charlie around while keeping an eye on the boy.

“Wait, wait—there's just two more rules I have to tell you before you can play, little sunbeam!” Sun insisted, stopping in his tracks and causing Charlie to pause as well. “One: if you make a mess, please clean up after yourself! And two...” He seemed to freeze for just a second, head tilting ever-so-slightly off-kilter. It was a barely noticeable gesture, but it was definitely there. “...Keep the lights on.”

Another pause, then Sun returned to his usual demeanor, hopping excitedly. “As long as you follow those instructions, we're all going to be best friends!”

Gregory flinched at the sudden turn of Sun’s head, the sight only adding to the ominous rule. Okay, he’d definitely keep the lights on if he could help it. The thought of being swathed in darkness only reminded him of his brief brush with death at Monty’s claws…

“You got it, Sun!” Gregory assured as Puppet glanced around the huge dome-like structure of the play area.

Alright, her mind was made up. If Charlie’s fate was to remain in the Pizzaplex, she’d definitely love to stay here, slithering through the ball pits and resting inside the padded, foam and metal castle structures.

As Gregory was finally released and hurried off to play—or rather, look for his opportunity to slip behind the counter unnoticed—Charlie decided to ask Sun some questions.

“…You’re not afraid of the dark, are you?” she inquired, concern in her voice as she squeezed the tall animatronic’s hand.

“Oh no, no!” Sun let out a hearty laugh, shaking his head. “I'm perfectly fine with the dark—it wouldn't be good if I was afraid of naptime! It's just...” He trailed off for a moment, gazing upwards. It was hard to tell in the brightly-lit Daycare, but the ceiling was littered with glow stars that were one of the few sources of illumination when the room went dark. “When the lights go off, my safety protocols are amped up due to the children being asleep and extra-vulnerable. It's... basically like I have another mode, so to speak. Since I'm Sun, everyone calls him Moon!”

He gave another chuckle, though this was one noticeably quieter. “Moon can be a little much after hours though, which is why they keep the lights on nowadays.”

Though Sun couldn't fully recall what happened when he was in that state, he'd been lectured multiple times on being overzealous in thinking Moon saw “intruders.” Due to this, he'd ended up scaring away quite a few night guards before Vanessa got promoted.

Sun soon perked up, not wanting to worry Charlie with such vague concerns. “Oh, Moon wouldn't do anything bad though—it's just that some of the kids tend to be afraid of him, and I wouldn't want Gregory to be one of them!”

Charlie touched under the chin of her mask as she reflected on his words. “How considerate. Thanks, Sun.”

She appreciated that he was as easy-going as Freddy. With a hardy squeeze of his palm, Charlie laughed in remembrance. “I had a sleep mode as well. It’s sort of broken now, but the music box inside still works!”

She turned, showing off the turnkey that jutted from between what would’ve been shoulder blades. While she had Sun’s attention, Charlie figured she might as well attempt to slowly convince him that things weren’t going so well outside the Daycare. Heck, maybe he could provide some help in figuring all this out!

“Gregory told me earlier the other animatronics have been scaring him. Did you happen to see the bandages on the kid’s face?” she pointed out quietly. “He got those from running away…”

“What?!” Sun exclaimed, standing up after examining the Puppet's key with interest. If his expression could change, his eyes would be wide with shock. “I saw Gregory was hurt, but all his injuries were either healing or patched up so my first-aid protocol didn't kick in... But that can't be true that the others scared him—they're the sweetest friends ever!” He now had both hands free, which he immediately clasped together in front of his chest. “Is something wrong with them?!”

The reaction was so genuine, Charlie had only been able to muster a nod before consoling him. The poor guy just wanted everyone to play and have fun. He didn’t need this kind of stress, artificial as it may be.

“Freddy and I think they’re just sick right now. It’s good to see you’re okay, Sun… But that’s why we needed the security card!” Charlie glanced around, unable to spy Gregory as she leaned in and whispered to the attendant. “Gregory told me he’s wary of the night guard, too. Honestly, I don’t blame him…”

“Who, Vanessa?” Sun questioned, then shook his head. “She's grumpy, but she's harmless!”

Then he stopped. Charlie's comment about the access card made him think that something was going on that wasn't necessarily supposed to be... Standing to full height, Sun peered around the Daycare until he spotted a tiny figure darting behind the security desk.

“Oh no—hey, new friend!” Sun called, instantly starting towards Gregory. “That area is off-limits! You're gonna get us in trouble!”

“Yeah, Gregory! Be a good boy, gosh!” Charlie chided, watching as an annoyed Gregory was picked up and toted away back towards the jungle gym. She reached over and tussled his soft brown hair as he pouted up to her. What she wanted to say was: Be faster!

Gregory looked like an annoyed cat trying to dead weight and go limp in Sun’s hands, but the robot was far too strong for such a trick.

“I wasn’t doing anything! Honest!” he whined, the explanation falling on deaf ears. It was a clear lie; turns out Gregory wasn’t a great bluffer.

“You have to obey the rules!” Sun scolded, waving a finger in the boy’s face after placing him on the ground. Then he seemed to deflate slightly, gently patting the top of Gregory's head. “I'm not trying to be mean, you know—the rules are just to make sure everyone is safe!”

He spared a glance at Charlie, silently asking for her collaboration. The last thing Sun wanted was for Gregory to be upset with him, too.

Sun had a point. It wasn’t like Charlie was going to argue with the robot. After all, under normal circumstances he’d absolutely be in trouble for letting the kids run amuck! So, Charlie crossed her arms and remarked: “There’s plenty of better places to play, Gregory…”

“Okay! Okay, I won’t go back there…,” Gregory replied, scuffing the padding below his feet with a lazy kick. The moment that Sun turned his back, Charlie crossed her arms in an X formation. She hoped the kid would get her meaning not to try anything for a few more minutes, though it was clear to see that Gregory was growing impatient.

“There's so many things we can do to entertain ourselves!” Sun exclaimed, back to his usual cheery self. “We can draw, finger paint, and drink Fizzy-Faz until our heads explode!” He was slipping into dialogue usually reserved for younger kids, but that's who he was designed to care for, after all. He clapped his hands, bouncing from foot to foot. “Ooh, ooh—do you like glitter glue?!”

While all of this was going on within the play area, Freddy was biding his time just outside the wooden doors. They were locked from the inside, and even with his strength he knew he wouldn't be able to open them. He could hear most of the conversations and no one sounded distressed, so for now Freddy was content to keep watch for Vanessa or any of his bandmates. He just hoped Gregory was able to snatch that security badge soon; being so out in the open was starting to make the bear nervous and was giving him time to dwell on his thoughts... which he really didn't want to do right now.

Inside, the pair played alongside Sun—something Gregory may have warmed up to. But only because the experience was liminal for him. Having these robots entertain him, keeping him safe… It felt nice, even if he wouldn’t ever admit it out loud. They gathered together building towers of cans, laughing when Gregory knocked them down only for Sun to fix up the area by stacking them obsessively again.

“Hey Sun? What was that you said about glitter glue?” Charlie elbowed him softly, as if suggesting he find some. Despite the fun, she hadn’t forgotten their objective to find the access card.

“Right? I mean, you mentioned all that cool arts and crafts stuff! Where’s it at?” Gregory asked, understanding that it was time to try again.

“Oh! It’s over there!” Sun replied, pointing to a corner of the Daycare full of shelves. The glitter glue was up high, far out of reach of any grabby hands. He stood, eager to do whatever Gregory wanted; the boy really seemed to be having fun now!

“Do you want me to get it? We can make some cool projects!” He let out a small gasp as an idea struck him. “Maybe you can make something for your faaaavorite animatronic—that’s what lots of kids do!”

Then he froze, remembering Charlie’s comment. In a gentler voice, Sun added: “If there’s any you do like, that is—if not, you can make something for yourself! That’s okay, too!”

“You’ve definitely met three good friends, right Gregory?” Charlie said, hoping it would help ease Sun’s little slip-up. Not that it was his fault; he was just giving the kid some ideas.

Gregory offered a ghost of a smile. It was tired, definitely, yet so genuine it made Charlie’s heart melt.

“I definitely have! Uh… We’re gonna need some scissors and construction paper, too!” Gregory made sure to call after as Sun bounded towards the supplies.

Once Charlie placed the last can on the top of the pyramid they created together, she turned and watched as Sun stretched up to reach the high shelf. She was about to offer her help, when she heard the soft and cushioned sound of sneakers slapping against the rubber matting below them. Her head turned quickly, shocked at how fast Gregory broke into a dead sprint for the counter. He’d already ducked behind the thing before she could even react.

Suddenly, Charlie had a bad feeling. As she lurched after him, that sinking, twisting feeling inside grew. Its familiar sting reminded her of when she first woke up here—the sheer wrongness deep in her soul.

“Gregory, wait!” she yelled, dropping all pretenses of hiding their actions from Sun. If her gut was right, they might need those security protocols after all…

Sun whirled around at the shout, just in time to see a tiny hand pop out from under the desk and snatch up the security badge. He gave a little sigh of affectionate exasperation, starting to walk to the desk after the Puppet.

“Come on, little sunbeam, we already talked about this—”

His words were suddenly cut off with a choked-off gasp as out of nowhere the Daycare went dark. There was a soft chuckle from the direction of the main garage doors, though no one but Gregory and Charlie seemed to respond to it.

“Hee hee~ Are you having fun yet?” a feminine voice called in a lilting, sing-song tone.

Chapter Text

One, two, three
Beasts unleashed
One, two, three
Security breached

~Security Breached by j-gems~

They had been having fun. The good things never lasted, Charlie would come to find out. Gregory didn’t expect to be completely blindsided by the fast-moving plushie, letting out a grunt as he was scooped up and pulled tightly against her body.

“You and me gotta hide!” Charlie instructed, trying to peer into the dark for their new friend. Even as she said this, she couldn’t help but call out harshly: “Sun? Sun! C’mon, Sunny…”

She’d been warned, but there was truly no way to describe what the sweet attendant turned into as the darkness fell over the Daycare until she saw it: the foreboding red glow of an eye, staring at them from the craft corner. “Uh… M-Moon?”

Charlie hated this feeling—like something was beating inside her chest cavity, raging to be free. That fixed, dangerous gaze made her fear for a life she didn’t have anymore. As for Gregory? He was shaking in her grasp; the only thing that brought Charlie’s attention back was the involuntary tensing of his muscles from abject fear. What he didn’t know was that even though they’d been friends not even an hour, she’d protect him down to the very last bolt that held her together.

Another laugh, this one much eerier than the previous and much, much closer. The red eye turned into two, which rapidly approached the security desk. Moon was crouched low to the ground, and by the time he reached the patch of emergency lighting Gregory and Charlie stood in he was completely out of sight. That is until a set of thin, blue and white mechanical fingers slowly grasped the outer edge of the desk.

“Naughty boy... Naughty boy...,” Moon whispered, his voice distinctly lower than his sunny counterpart’s. He suddenly jumped on the high countertop, bouncing from foot to foot and revealing his full, night-themed design. “It's past your bedtime… You must be punished! Nighty-night~ Ehehehehe~” Then he dipped back down with a cackle, scurrying away to some random part of the play area.

“Oh no… Gregory!” Freddy called, banging on the door. He’d heard Moon’s speech and knew instantly that the Daycare attendant’s security protocol was going haywire as well. “You need to find the emergency backup generators and turn them on—they are in the play structures!” He desperately tried to jiggle the door open, to no avail. “Charlie, protect him while I try and find a way in! Use a flashlight, if you can find one—Moon will stay away from the light!”

Gregory’s worst fear was being helpless. And in this moment, being squished against the Puppet with one arm as she tore through the front desk in search of a flashlight, that’s what he felt. Drawers were wrenched open, office supplies tossed around until a bright red torch jumped out at the pair. This was hurriedly shoved into Gregory’s hand as Charlie peered into the darkness once more.

“Aim the light forward, Gregory,” she advised, sounding calmer now that they had some semblance of defense. After flicking the light on, Gregory aimed it at a massive and colorful pyramid. Behind the pyramid ran a wire, something they could follow back to a generator. Charlie leapt over the desk, barreling through the lightweight cans. The sound of them falling penetrated the tense silence of the Daycare now as Gregory lit the way to the first generator.

Moon growled as the cans were knocked over, rushing out from his hiding spot and instantly stacking them with twitching hands.

“Rrrrrggh... clean up! Clean up!” he murmured, completely focused on the task at hand. Why were children so messy?! He just wanted them to behave…

Once the last can was stacked, Moon’s attention instantly whirled to the play structure. The flashlight was a double-edged sword: Moon hated the light, but the beam allowed him to see exactly where Gregory and his current protector were running. With another low cackle, the Daycare attendant stalked after them.

There was a generator at ground level. After pulling a clear indicator lever to route the power back on, Gregory was disappointed to find the room still bathed mostly in darkness.

“There’s gotta be more. We should check the play castles—” Gregory began, interrupted by the sound of mechanical clicking. When he noticed it’d gotten closer, Gregory whipped around in Charlie’s grasp to point the light behind her. Catching a glimpse of the Moon following them, he nearly fumbled the flashlight out of fear.

“Run!” he shouted, spurring Charlie on as he jerked in her grip.

The Puppet couldn’t respond, but got the message. Her focus was less on communication and more about her vessel’s primary goal. At the sound of Gregory’s distress she’d taken off, making a beeline to hide away inside the play structure.

To their benefit, even though the generator didn’t restore power to the whole Daycare it turned on a floodlight that caused Moon to hiss and momentarily back out of his pursuit. He hid in a dark corner, muttering nonsense about naughty children as his sensitive eyes readjusted. Eventually he restarted the chase, though at a slower, more measured pace.

Meanwhile, Freddy was beside himself trying to get inside. Currently, he was going completely against protocol and, after using his animatronic strength to bust a hole through the glass window, was attempting to cut through the inner netting with his claws. Unfortunately the mesh was thick and Freddy’s child-safe nails weren’t meant for such a task, so he wasn’t making much progress. Monty’s claws might do the trick, sharp for both practical use when playing the bass and for his general aesthetic.

Of course, this was just a wayward thought—even if Freddy could call the gator over, he’d never intentionally expose Gregory to that sort of danger.

Amongst the chaos, the sound of glass breaking only put Gregory further on edge. As they approached the final generator, the lost kid was fighting a battle to keep his hope alive. While Charlie was there to quietly reassure him, this whole ordeal was already nerve-wracking… especially because Moon made it so obvious that he'd been following them. Having to fend him off with the flashlight or standing among the floodlight while in search of the generators left Gregory antsy. Every time they ran without cover he’d either ask that Charlie knock over cans or “Run faster!” when he heard Moon catching up.

And then, suddenly, they stood in front of the last machine hidden inside the top floor of the play place.

“This has to be it!” Gregory said, hope returning as his outstretched hand grasped the cool metal lever.

The moment the switch was flipped, blissful light flooded the Daycare once again. Moon hissed a final time and ran off to a hidden corner, allowing Charlie and Gregory to crawl out of the jungle gym.

However, before they could celebrate their success Freddy perked up as he heard another sound. Over the faint music coming from the check-in area, the metal garage door was sliding open. Freddy turned with wide eyes but couldn’t see who had joined them in the Daycare… yet.

“You did it, superstar!” the bear praised, speaking through the opening in the glass. “Now please hurry and open the door—we need to get out of here now!”

Charlie gave Gregory a soft hug, squeezing him tightly as he breathed out with a shaky but reassuring: “Hey, I’m fine…”

Expelling a humorless chuckle, Charlie finally set him down.

“Sorry,” she excused herself, rubbing the side of her mask with her palm before grasping Gregory’s hand. “Just proud of you, and glad you’re safe.”

Charlie cast a cursory glance around, watching just to make sure that Moon character was gone. She felt somewhat sad for Sun—the Daycare attendant looked as if the transformation had caused him pain. Surely he’d be fine now as long as the lights stayed bright, though. If not, there’d be time to fix him later… hopefully.

At Freddy’s request Charlie and Gregory headed for the huge, faux-wooden doors, unlocking it with an easy swipe of the access card… and before anyone could blink, Gregory was snatched from behind by a very angry Sun.

“Rule-breaker, RULE-BREAKER! You are banned from the Daycare!” the animatronic shouted, literally tossing the boy through the doors. Before slamming them shut, Sun called: “Security alert, SECURITY ALERT! WOO-WOO!”

It was then Freddy realized who’d opened the garage doors: all three Glamrocks were converging on them, focused on one thing—Gregory.

Freddy didn’t know what to do. There were animatronics coming from every side, and they were mad. He and Charlie didn’t stand a chance in a physical fight—maybe they could overtake Chica if they teamed up, but Roxy and Monty were an entirely different story. The fastest way to make them stop was to get Gregory out of sight… But how would he—

“No. ”

A voice spoke in Freddy’s mind. It was no longer just a vague thought, something the animatronic could pass off as an errant piece of code—this was an actual voice, soft and male, with a notable Brighton accent. And it seemed to know exactly what Freddy was planning.

“Gregory, quick—hide in my stomach hatch!” the bear exclaimed, crouching down and opening his chest plate. It revealed a little cavity, just big enough for Gregory’s tiny frame and thankfully free of any mangled children’s bodies—

“Freddy, do NOT put that kid in there!” the voice hissed, more insistent than before.

“You must get out of their view!” Freddy spoke over it, his AI still ultimately in control.

Was this a bad idea? Probably.

Was it also their only option right now? Yes.

“I will keep you safe—please trust me!” Freddy’s tone was desperate, hoping Gregory would go along with this last-ditch plan.

Gregory had been tossed out on his butt, sliding towards Freddy’s feet on the freshly waxed floors. At the sound of the approaching metal monsters and Freddy’s demands to jump inside his stomach hatch, he nervously hopped from foot to foot while fretting out loud. The bear’s final, desperate plea was enough to convince him.

With a high jump, Gregory shoved his frame inside the surprise compartment. The inside was dark with barely anything to hold as the robot moved, lest he wanted to risk his fingers getting pinched. When the hatch closed, Gregory covered his own mouth to stop any noises that might give away his position. As his hand tightened around the keycard, he remembered that Puppet had been stuck inside the Daycare still…

She’d be fine, surely. Gregory reasoned that Charlie could figure out an escape plan of her own, then meet up with them later. After all, the matter of the animatronics approaching Freddy was far more pressing than Charlie getting a little side-tracked.

They were just robots doing their jobs, Gregory tried to tell himself. Who cares where Charlie went to, in the end?

Stopping in front of Freddy, Chica scratched under her beak and squinted at his chest.

“Freddy? Did you… You didn’t see that kid anywhere, right?” she asked, suddenly confused as she glanced up to his face.

“Kid? What kid? There is no kid around, Chica.” Freddy muttered, already moving away. It was snappier than his usual answer, but the voice in his head was practically screaming at him to release the child, apparently terrified that Freddy’s endoskeleton would somehow clamp shut on the poor thing. That was ridiculous though—Freddy wasn’t capable of doing that... although, to be fair, he’d never had a child in there before, so he supposed he couldn’t be entirely sure.

“Huh, what was I… what am I doin’ in the Daycare?” Monty asked slowly, scratching his head as he looked around. Freddy didn’t even bother answering, already halfway up the stairs by this point. He vaguely thought about Charlie as well, trapped in the play area with a distressed Sun, but he knew that Gregory was top priority.

The Puppet could be salvaged again if anything happened to her; the human child could not.

“Are they gone…?” Gregory asked as the commotion around them settled, only the repetitive sound of Freddy’s inner workings around him now. He did his best to remain quiet, but anxiety drove Gregory to pose the question in a hushed yet urgent tone.

They were by the party rooms now, far away from the Glamrocks, and Freddy almost replied that yes they were perfectly safe—until the lights overhead went out again. To his surprise most of the Daycare was still lit up, but there was a clear path of near-darkness that Freddy was walking into. A sudden metallic clinking behind made him pick up the pace.

“Nighty-night~ Ehehehe~” Moon cackled, and Freddy broke into an all-out sprint. He didn’t know how, but Moon somehow escaped the play area and was hot on their tail, using the dim lighting as a guide.

“The charging station!” Freddy exclaimed, clutching his stomach protectively. “Moon should not be able to get in—there is one close by, if we can just make it…”

Unlike the others, Moon was apparently smart enough to know that Gregory was inside of the Glamrock bear. What he planned to do with that information was an unknown drop inside an ocean of unknowns to the terrified boy. Tiny hands pressed hard against the inside of Freddy’s metal casing, minimizing the amount of bouncing around as he tried to shut his eyes, to pretend he was anywhere else in the world. The perpetual darkness around him and Freddy allowed Moon to follow swiftly and undisturbed.

Then, behind the glitched-out Daycare attendant followed an even angrier entity. Slithering across the floors came Puppet in hot pursuit.

“Go, you big bear, GO!” the unseen voice in Freddy’s head shouted, urging him faster and faster.

Then, miraculously, the garage door was opening and the glowing charging pod appeared in their grasp. With one final sprint Freddy made it just in time to close the door in Moon’s face. The Daycare attendant smacked bodily against the pod, making a rather unpleasant cracking noise as he shrieked in frustration. Freddy and Gregory were locked in, safe for the time being—at least, the bear hoped.

Gregory had shouted at the impact, essentially blind while hidden inside Freddy’s chest cavity.

“What was that?! Freddy what’s going on?” he demanded to know, unaware of the ensuing scrap outside of the recharging pod. Charlie had pulled Moon back by the shoulders, white lights in her eyes burning through him like sharpened hot pins as she shook the malfunctioning attendant.

“YOU are supposed to be in the Daycare!” Charlie reminded as she tried her best to drag him away.

“Do not worry, Gregory; we are safe,” Freddy reassured, already calming down as his body automatically connected to the charging station and his battery began filling up.

“Rrrrgh… let me go, Charlie!” Moon hissed, struggling in the Puppet’s surprisingly strong grip. “Naughty children must be punished—”

“Oh, Moon, you silly thing!” That sing-song voice from earlier was back, though it was no longer disembodied. A figure was skipping towards Moon and the Puppet—a woman in a patchwork rabbit suit complete with a handmade bunny mask sporting glowing, red eyes. When she reached Moon she gripped him by the arm, yanking him out of Charlie’s grasp.

“We need to have a serious talk!” the rabbit said with a giggle. She paused right at the garage door to stare back at Puppet, head tilted ominously to the side as her cackling grew louder until abruptly cutting off. Then in a soft voice she whispered: “Your uncle says hi, Charlie~”

With that she pulled Moon into the Daycare, allowing the heavy garage door to shut behind her.

The Puppet’s thin hands curled to her chest as the fanciful rabbit skipped away. The words she uttered had trapped Charlie in her place.

Your uncle says hi.

All of a sudden, she was no longer in the Pizzaplex. She was floating in a dark, rainy alley, staring down at her dead body with a throat purpled from finger-shaped bruises. The experience was so jarring, Charlie felt something in her just… short out.

She twitched, sputtering as the sound of electrical cords sparking inside her vessel forced her to the ground in some painful hold. Then, all movement ceased. She couldn’t even let out a gasp as Puppet’s masked face met with the ground, darkness taking the limp body once more.

Freddy couldn’t see the rabbit, but he watched Moon retreat to the Daycare—and the Puppet collapse soon afterwards. Seconds later, his battery meter filled up to 100% and the charging pod door released.

“Charlie!” Freddy exclaimed, starting for the Puppet until he was literally stopped in his tracks by the yelling in his head.

"Charlie’s resilient—focus on the kid! Get him out, get him out, get him OUT!” the voice chanted, and the bear practically threw Gregory onto the floor in his haste to remove him from his chest cavity.

Freddy desperately tried to regain control of himself, tamping down on the voice until it devolved into unintelligible muttering. However, before silencing it actually managed to wrest control of the animatronic’s voice box just long enough to make Freddy exclaim:

“Oh god, Ev—”

The animatronic cut this off with a violent jerk of his head, then focused on the trembling boy at his feet. The voice was right: Charlie could wait. More pressing was—

“Gregory! Oh my goodness, are you alright?!” Freddy crouched and ran a health scan, but thankfully the child was physically unharmed except for his stress level being through the roof.

Something about the toss made Gregory feel shaken. It’s not like Freddy wasn’t being careful, but when the kid finally turned to glance at him he caught Freddy’s head and neck spasming. A clear refresh blanketed the bear’s expression before his scan began.

“Am I alright?!” Gregory asked, poking his finger into Freddy’s thigh, jabbing him to get his attention. “Are you?! You totally spazed!” He sucked in a trembling breath, face reddening with concern and residual fear. “You’re seriously freaking me out! Charlie’s broken and now you’re acting weird…”

Water built behind Gregory’s eyelashes, threatening to spill over his cheeks. He refused to cry, but with his quivering lip and tightly clenched fists it was obvious he wanted to.

His attention was now split to the Puppet. How strange she looked in a pile like that... It felt like he was staring at something dead—like something he shouldn’t be looking at. It made his stomach turn.

“You are fine, and so am I; there is no need for tears,” Freddy replied softly, instinctively pulling Gregory into a comforting hug. This was definitely his usual protocol kicking in, wanting to comfort distressed children as best he could. The bear looked over Gregory’s shoulder at the crumpled Puppet. “And Charlie will be fine, too. Come on, let us get out of here.”

He hoisted Gregory up with one arm, holding the boy securely on his hip as one might do with a very small child. Gregory would typically be too old for this, but with his light, tiny frame compared to Freddy’s animatronic strength there was no issue at all. Freddy then walked over to Charlie and hoisted her over his other shoulder, trying not to think of how unnerving her complete immobility was—she was well and truly shut down.

“Once we are in the security office, we can figure out what to do next,” Freddy explained as he began to walk. He tilted his head towards Gregory questioningly. “Do you still have the access card?”

Deep breaths in, hold it, and out. Gregory told himself this as Freddy returned to normalcy at last. Hugging an arm around the bear’s neck gave Gregory some sense of control over his situation. Once he registered that Freddy had asked him a question, he slipped the card out of his pocket and waved it in the air.

“Safe and sound,” he replied, much calmer now as they made it through towards the back-access hallways. He winced at the way Charlie dangled over Freddy’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “…What do you think happened to her?”

“I am not sure,” Freddy admitted, his face set in a determined expression as he used his internal map to get them to the security office. “She is currently shut down, which usually only happens manually by way of a technician, or when our systems are simply too overloaded to function. Although, it would take a lot of duress to make an animatronic react like this—we are designed to function even with parts missing, though of course this is not an ideal situation.”

Perhaps Charlie was more damaged than Freddy originally realized… maybe his repairs hadn’t been thorough enough after all. If it was an internal issue though, there wasn’t much he could do—that was a job for a technician, not a fellow animatronic.

Gregory was amazed how fast she’d crumpled. Perhaps she was simply too weak to fight Moon, and he’d overpowered her before leaving. Without being able to help himself, he felt a twinge of sympathy for the lanky, toy-looking robot.

It was a constant uphill battle to remind himself that these robots were just that: animatronics without souls. No point in getting attached; no matter how nice Freddy and Charlie were, someday they’d disappear on him like every good thing in his life.

They carried on together, Gregory attached to Freddy’s hip and the Puppet draped like a wet towel over the bear’s shoulder. Onwards and forwards…

Eventually, after traveling through numerous back tunnels the group made it to a tiny security office close to the main lobby. After using the access card to get in, Freddy quickly shut the doors and turned on the animatronic-proof locks. The power meter next to the door lit up with an ominous blue glow, but Freddy ignored this for now. They’d be safe for a while at least.

“Here, take a little rest, superstar,” Freddy said, gently setting Gregory in one of the two swivel office chairs. He deposited Charlie in the other one, trying to sit her up as best he could though she kept leaning over to one side.

There was a weak smile at the nickname. It looked to be growing on Gregory as he slumped in the wheeled chair.

“This place looks really high tech…,” he murmured, allowing the Charlie's passed-out husk to weigh on his shoulder so she didn’t fall to the floor. “You can see all over the Pizzaplex from here, huh?” Gregory carefully leaned forward, naturally flipping the camera’s perspective with the keyboard.

“Yes—just like everything else in the Pizzaplex, its security system is state of the art,” Freddy replied with a nod, watching the camera feeds idly with another odd wave of of familiarity. Soon the bear managed to pull himself away and focus on Charlie, carefully looking her over in the hopes of figuring out what was wrong. As he examined the Puppet, he continued his explanation. “The offices are routed with their own power supply in case of emergencies. As long as those display meters are still lit up, the doors are locked down and will prevent anything from getting in.”

He spared a quick glance at the meter by the door in front of him. Somehow it’d already ticked down one bar, making Freddy grimace.

Gregory’s flipping through the feeds may not be helping their battery situation. The use of the cameras as well as doors was sucking down power at a rapid rate. Thankfully the kid soon grew bored looking at unmoving screens, settling the monitor’s vision right outside the security room. Gregory propped Charlie up, tilting her over to properly look at her back now that they had a second of down time.

“Does that key wind her up? Or does it just play music?” he wondered. Everything about Charlie was confusing. Her name, to start—her design a close second. Maybe the key was just cosmetic.

“Hmm...” Freddy blinked a few times, reaching into his database and the small amount of information he knew about The Puppet. True to Charlie's own explanation, she'd been stationed at the Prize Counter to hand out gifts. She had normal power functions just like the other animatronics at her pizzeria, but also—

“Oh, yes!” Freddy exclaimed with a smile. “According to the information I can gather, winding up the key will play an internal music box and should also make her move.”

Whether this would bring her full personality back was another thing, as this was a very simplistic mode and might only give the illusion of her working correctly until the key wound down again... but it was the best they had to go on for now. Freddy reached forward to turn the key a few times, then set Charlie back upright and waited for any reaction.

The slow winding of metal followed a soft chime inside Charlie’s chest, then a twitch in the Puppet’s fingers and the jerky movement of her limbs. Her body was winding up, building tension as the strings inside pulled her endoskeleton taught. Pinhole eyes that Gregory was weirdly sure didn’t start on Charlie's face stared ahead as she slowly came to life again, waving her arms up and down like a marionette on strings.

After a minute or so the music gently ended, and Charlie stilled with her blank gaze fixed forward. A pregnant pause went by before Gregory leaned forward to try and catch her attention by waving a hand in front of her mask.

“Earth to Charlie... Come in, Charlie!” he called. Maybe it was taking her a moment to load and reboot?

“Charlie?” Freddy asked as well, tilting his head in worry. She was mobile, but unresponsive—not the reaction he'd hoped for. Freddy looked her over again, even conducting a scan to see if he could detect any wires out of place.

“...Strange,” he said after a moment, frowning slightly. “Physically, she appears to be fine—she is not even dented from her impact with the floor earlier. Unfortunately, that means her issue is likely programming-related, which I am not able to repair. At this moment, I think we need to wait and see if she returns to herself on her own; otherwise...”

He left the sentence hanging; even he wasn't sure what they'd do if Charlie didn't come back. Sure, she could always be fixed up later, but she'd already been such a great help so far and Freddy hated to lose one of Gregory's new protectors—especially as the bear noticed another half bar of power tick down from the doors.

Gregory ceased trying to wake her on her own, staring ahead at the cameras for a minute or so. He was pulled from his hypnotic gaze when Charlie made a single, soft musical chime. It was followed by a dramatic shake of her head, as if she’d suddenly been woken from a nap.

“Wha—Where are we? What’s going on?” she sputtered before locking her eyes on Gregory. Instantly she reached out, grasping him and hugging him close.

“Woah! Yeah, uh, missed you too, Charlie…,” Gregory exclaimed as he bashfully accepted the hug. She was clearly worked up, so he returned the embrace before asking: “What happened out there? We found you powered down outside the charge station!”

Charlie shook her head, patting down his hair as she pulled away. “Nothing you need to worry about…”

“It is good to have you back,” Freddy added, giving the Puppet a relieved smile. That last comment meant that whatever went down outside the charging pod wasn't for children's ears—hopefully Charlie would be able to fill Freddy in if they ever got a second where Gregory was thoroughly distracted.

“I carried you both to the nearest security office,” Freddy continued, answering Charlie's earlier question. “We are safe in here for a little bit, although unfortunately it does not look like we can stay all night—at least, not with the doors shut.”

“They still haven't fixed the damn power issue in these offices?! Ugh, typical...”

There was that voice in his head again, muttering in annoyance but otherwise seeming docile. As long as it wasn't trying to take over Freddy's body or whatever it attempted to do back there, Freddy would do his best to accept that this was just A Thing now. Once this night was over, he'd definitely spend a good, long while in Parts & Service purging his system of any latent issues...

Charlie turned, her hands braced on the back of the office chair to listen to the bear. As he spoke, she beheld how little power they still had left for the night and sighed.

“They never did figure out the power issues in these buildings…,” she remarked, fondly remembering the many glaring design flaws that seemingly carried over to the new franchise. Gregory had copied the Puppet, spinning around in the chair to glance at the night’s electrical supply.

“We’re screwed if the power goes out, aren’t we?” he asked pessimistically, worry on his face as he took in the gravity of their rather dire circumstances.

“No, we are not,” Freddy responded, frowning slightly at the boy's language. “Since the Mega Pizzaplex is so large, there are multiple security offices throughout the building—if the power starts getting too low, we can simply move to another one!” His mouth flipped into a cheerful smile, then almost immediately returned to a frown as he remembered a detail that completely derailed this easy plan.

“Ah... the only thing is, now that the building is on lockdown most areas can only be accessed using security badges like the one we picked up.” He gestured to the badge in Gregory’s pocket before breathing out a simulated sigh. “And unfortunately, this badge is the lowest clearance level. In order to access the rest of the building, we need to find higher access cards.”

“I don’t think we should move Gregory around too much,” Charlie said, trying her best not to betray on overdose of worry in her voice. If they had to move and hide him away again they would, but she didn’t like that option one bit.

If what the bunny lady said was true, William had definitely come back. He was yet again an active threat, and based on how the animatronics seemed hell-bent on capturing Gregory, the murderer’s plans clearly involved him as well.

“See what happened last time we left for a clearance card? Gregory almost gotten snatched up by Moon…,” Charlie reminded them. She pointed this out not for the sake of arguing, but out of a concern that she didn’t want to reveal unless she absolutely had to.

“Yes, I—”

“I wholeheartedly agree,100%—keep the kid stationary as much as you can.”

Freddy simply closed his eyes for a moment, gritting his teeth. Now that the voice wasn't screaming in panic, it apparently had a lot of opinions. After a moment, Freddy looked back at Charlie and Gregory, trying his best to smile and hoping they'd ignore his pause.

“I agree,” the bear said. “We will likely have to move him at some point, though as little as possible would be best. Surely the doors will hold for a bit long—oh no...”

To Freddy's horror, as his eyes shifted to the computer monitor he caught the tip of a long tail moving out of one of the camera viewpoints. It was Monty, and he seemed to be heading right for their little office.

Gregory turned, tan skin going sheet-white as he saw the face of the gator after him a third time. Pushing off the desk, Gregory attempted to run and hide in a nearby locker before Charlie grasped him.

“No. If he gets inside, go to Freddy,” she corrected firmly, soothing him by petting the top of his head with those long, thin fingers. She'd rather Gregory stick with the bear, as the odds of Monty attacking him while inside Freddy’s surprise hatch were slim based on the Glamrock’s earlier reaction.

Besides… were anything to happen to Gregory, him being left inside of the animatronic would make the routine of giving life a little easier. Surely whatever ghost already lingered inside the Glamrock bear would be apt to sharing; it wouldn’t be the first Freddy Charlie blessed with her Gift that cohabitated.

“He can’t get through until the power goes out, anyway,” she assured the anxious child, though her attempts to calm didn’t seem like they were working very well.

“Have you seen how strong that dude is? Because I have!” Gregory argued, fretting yet mesmerized at the reassuring hug Charlie gave him. How the hell was a robot so soft?

“We will protect you, Gregory; do not worry,” Freddy comforted, reaching down to gently ruffle his hair as well.

The animatronic moved to the door, watching through one of the tiny glass windows as Monty approached. The gator's expression seemed distant like before, as if unsure what exactly he was doing. Monty stopped outside the office, just sort of staring for a few seconds before his gaze slowly shifted to the window.

“Oh, heeeey, Freddy!” the gator remarked, pulling down his glasses to look at the bear. There was definitely confusion in his eyes, though by the way his tail slowly swung back and forth, Freddy had the feeling he was not as docile as he seemed. “Um... what are you doin' here?”

“What are you doing here?” Freddy countered, trying to block as much of the view into the office as he could with his body. “You are supposed to be in your room on lockdown, are you not?”

“Uh, you're one to talk—look where you're hangin' out!” Monty shook his head, returning his glasses to their proper position. “Listen, Fredbear, have you—”

Catching a flash of movement over Freddy's shoulder, the gator’s whole demeanor instantly changed. He slumped over, facial joints going lax for a few seconds before he perked up and a wicked grin spread across his face. He began pounding hard on the door, calling out to Gregory: “Hey, little guy! Come on out!”

“Keep him away from me!” Gregory pleaded, cowering next to the stalwart Puppet. Charlie glanced around for some kind of solution, though unfortunately this security office didn’t have any trick to use on the passing animatronics.

“Monty, you don’t really want him to come with you; go back to your room, please…,” Charlie begged, unsure of what else to do but comfort Gregory as Monty had beat his metal fists against the door.

The gator completely ignored Charlie's suggestions. In fact, if anything they seemed to make him pound the door harder as he realized there was another threat that could stop him from getting his prey. Freddy looked at the power meter, alarmed to see it going down at a startling rate. Apparently, the doors weren't nearly as resilient as he'd thought.

“Perhaps a higher security level office will have a better power supply!” the bear suggested, his tone a bit frantic. The voice in his head was muttering again as if trying to think aloud, but it only seemed focused on its frustration at the lack of proper security measures and confusion on why they would make a strong, threatening alligator animatronic in the first place. “I know we just said it is best not to move unless there are dire circumstances, but I feel as though this may be one such occasion!”

“But—” Gregory was going to interject, but Charlie grasped him under the armpits and lifted him.

“No arguing. Let’s go.” Her tone was calm but firm. They’d get out. She looked to the cameras outside the hall. The door to the left may have Monty pounding at the magnetically locked gate, but the right exit was clear.

“Freddy, can you get the right door? I’ve got Gregory,” Charlie said, arms snaking around the boy in a protective hold.

“I can run, too!” He pouted in protest, though Charlie had outright refused to let him go while Monty was around.

Freddy obeyed Charlie's instructions without question, moving to unlock the right door and usher the two out. Monty started to growl when he saw this, his gnashing jaw and whipping tail completely animalistic. He was really using his claws now, the screeching of metal against metal making Freddy wince.

“We must get to the elevators; follow me,” Freddy instructed, shifting to be ahead so he could lead the way. He trusted Charlie to keep a tight hold on Gregory behind him. Despite having no real basis for this, he knew deep, deep down that she would do anything to save this child—even at the cost of her own self-sacrifice.

“Don’t worry, kiddo,” Charlie began, fairly in control of her emotions since her last reboot. “I know you’d rather be in the driver’s seat, but we know what the best call is—and right now I’d rather make sure no one’s going to grab you.” 

“I get that. Does it have to be so tight, though?” Gregory countered. Not that he didn’t feel safe, but the blood was sort of being trapped in his head with how tightly she held on.

The Puppet simply replied with a fairly blunt: “Yes.”

“We are almost there,” Freddy reassured, his voice as calm and measured as Charlie’s. He was still in control, the voice silent for now after clearly sensing it was best to let Freddy use his mental map of the Pizzaplex to guide them. After a few more twists and turns, the group made it out into the welcome, bright lights of the entrance lobby. Freddy quickly ushered them towards one of the elevators, pushing the button as soon as they were inside. As the doors closed, he heaved a sigh of relief.

“Alright, Charlie, you can let him go for now,” Freddy said, looking down at the pair. Thankfully, with Charlie's thin body and Gregory's small one there was a comfortable amount of room to move around. “These elevator rides are notoriously long, so we have a moment to catch our breath.”

Gregory was finally given the gift of proper blood circulation as Charlie gently touched his feet to the floor.

“See? That wasn’t so bad.” There was an unseen smile in her voice. Act cool and collected despite the circumstances—she’d quickly found this regularly calmed an already flighty kid.

“Yeah. I mean, I totally knew we would get away,” Gregory replied, pretending to be nonchalant as he plopped and sat in the back of the lift. He sounded less scared and more inconvenienced now by having to relocate, though obviously it was neither of his friend’s faults. “So where to next, Freddy?”

Chapter Text

Lights flicker, and the shadows crawl
I wear the face of my enemy as I
Hide behind the mask, hide behind the mask
Wait for the demons to travel by
Just don't breathe and tremble as I
Pray behind the mask, pray behind the mask

~Behind the Mask by SlyphStorm, TIFWhitney~

Freddy stared ahead, blinking rapidly as he scanned his map for the location of the nearest security office. After a moment, he gave a little nod and refocused on the pair next to him.

“I have identified two paths that should get us to security offices which will give us higher access badges,” Freddy said. “One is down by the kitchens, near the loading dock on the first floor. The other is by the third floor Prize Counter. Hmm... I suggest we go to the Prize Counter first.”

Just from a quick look, it seemed like this route would be the best one that all three of them could travel through with their Level 1 access card. The last thing Freddy wanted was to get separated from Gregory and Charlie... What if a door was locked and they had to crawl through a place he couldn't fit through, like a—

“Stop... no vents. Don't even THINK about vents.”

Freddy swore he sensed the voice shivering, only adding to his concern that this entity was something quite different than he’d initially imagined. The bear flinched, resisting the urge to tell it to be quiet—he didn't want Charlie and Gregory to worry about him malfunctioning, too.

“Good thinking,” Charlie agreed, flopping to the ground besides the door.

Who needed three whole floors of this place, anyway? Charlie wondered, though she welcomed the opportunity for a change of scenery. She was already sick of the first floor.

At Freddy’s visible flinching he caught a deep, knowing stare from Puppet, her gaze lingering before she scooted closer to Gregory. She was wary of the way he was acting, but didn’t say anything yet. It would be something to speak on while Gregory was safe and out of earshot.

“I bet we could find all sort of neat things at the prize counter!” she remarked cheerfully, needing a subject change.

“Oh, yes!” Freddy replied just as brightly. That stare from Charlie said it all—she knew something was up. Freddy was just thankful she didn’t want to bring it up in front of Gregory either; the boy had enough worries.

“They have dozens and dozens of rewards to choose from,” Freddy continued. “And plushies of every character from the Fazbear Entertainment franchise you can imagine!” He turned his smile on the boy, ruffling his hair again. “Perhaps you can pick one out before we leave, Gregory.”

A plushie wasn’t much compensation for all the terror the poor kid was experiencing that night, but maybe it would help ease his nerves a little bit to have something to hold onto besides an animatronic.

“Yeah,” Gregory agreed, finally relaxing with his back against the elevator walls. With all the tussling of his hair, he was surprised it wasn’t standing straight up. If anything, Gregory would get another Freddy—even if he knew it wouldn’t protect him like the real Freddy or Puppet did. “They better have an extra Freddy plush at the counter...”

Charlie rested besides Gregory, hands folded in her lap as the smooth lift took them to their destination. “There’s going to be lots of toys and snacks, don’t you worry.”

The bear’s smile softened. Regardless of the circumstances, it always warmed his mechanical heart when he was a child’s preferred animatronic.

“Yes, some food and water would be good as well,” he added, nodding gratefully at Puppet for her suggestion. Who knew the last time Gregory had eaten something? Honestly, Freddy was surprised the kid hadn’t run out of energy already—it was surely way after his bedtime, after all.

Soon the elevator doors opened on the third floor, right in front of the massive Prize Counter. Freddy poked his head out, looking around cautiously, and upon seeing no Glamrocks ushered the pair out into the main atrium.

“Be careful of the security bots,” Freddy murmured, pointing to one such robot wandering in a set pattern. “I do not know if they are infected with this virus, but it would be best to stay out of their way. Now—oh no…”

The bear groaned as he tried to open the metal gates to the Prize Counter, only to find them shut tight. He used a bit more strength, but unfortunately the doors held strong. He looked around for a moment, trying to find another route, and to his relief he spotted one garage door that hadn’t been fully closed before night shift. He looked down at Gregory and Charlie, giving a reassuring smile. “The main entrance to the Prize Counter is locked from the inside. However, there is another way to get in through El Chips and the East Arcade.”

Charlie and Gregory stood side by side as they took in their shared surroundings. Near the closed-off Prize Counter, the bright, neon greens and yellows of El Chips Fiesta Buffet shined over them all.

“Arcade?” Gregory perked up, mindful of any wandering security bots as he beheld the behemoth gaming spot—a place any preteen boy would gladly live inside of for the rest of their lives if given the chance.

“Remember, Gregory—” Charlie reminded him. “—we’re here to get the access passes. We can play video games later.”

“We can, however, get some food—we will need to walk through a restaurant anyway,” Freddy pointed out. “Come on; let us go.”

He gestured for the pair to follow him to El Chips. Luckily, this partially-cracked door was easy to raise up enough for Freddy to fit through with a bit of finagling. There was one lone bot mopping the floor, which Freddy ignored as he took the Gregory and Charlie to a fridge filled with prepackaged sandwiches and drinks for guests that didn’t feel like partaking in the usual Mexican fare El Chips had to offer.

“Here, superstar—what would you like?” Freddy asked, gently lifting Gregory up under the shoulders so he could clearly see all the options in the fridge. “We can grab something and take it to the security office to eat.”

Gregory’s mouth watered at the prospect of food, totally unbothered now with being toted everywhere by these strong robots. The grilled chicken sandwich stuck out and he silently reached for it. He didn’t stop there, since towards the bottom shelf were desserts—individually packaged cupcakes, the classic pink frosting with candy eyes were practically begging for Gregory to eat it. He snatched one up fast, as if someone was going to steal it from him.

Unaware of Gregory’s concerning hunger, Charlie dug into a retail cooler.

“Do you want a Fizzy Faz?” she asked, grasping for the popular Monty flavor.

“Fizzy Faz?” The soft British voice spoke in a scathing manner, startling Freddy with its reappearance. However, the only outward reaction the bear showed was a slight widening of his eyes. “They even have their own brand of soda now? God, what doesn’t this company make?”

“Yes, let us get a drink, too,” Freddy replied aloud, setting Gregory back down once he gathered everything he wanted from the fridge. He'd noticed the speed at which Gregory snatched the food, but he couldn't afford to dwell on this now—surely he was just super hungry from running around. Freddy then grabbed a few plastic takeout bags from a shelf, stacking them within the other to provide extra protection from the condensation. The reason for this was clear when the bear gathered up all the food and drink and placed it in the bags, which he then set in his chest cavity with a grin.

“There; now everything will be safe and out of the way until we get to the office.” He wanted to make sure they had all limbs free in order to grab Gregory or fight off pursuing animatronics if needed. Seeing Freddy fill his chest as their new snack cabinet, Charlie let out an approving exclamation.

“Ooh, good idea! Man, I wished they had these at the diner.” Charlie sighed as she turned one of the cans over in her lanky hands. What she’d give to taste a grape soda again… Still, she recalled the fountain drinks and milkshakes well enough to be satisfied through memory.

Gregory really wished he could eat that chicken sandwich right that second… But he’d waited about a week to eat something other than pizza. He could wait a few more minutes. His mind was so consumed with food, he jumped a little as Charlie asked him a question.

“Ready to head for the arcade, Gregory?”

“Ready!” He returned back to the protective robots’ sides eagerly. Even if they didn’t have time to play, it was nice to peruse the games and see if there were any new ones.

“Keep an eye out,” Freddy warned. “The arcades usually have a number of security bots on patrol because they are so huge. If one spots you, hide—they will lose interest within a few seconds of an 'intruder' being out of sight.”

Usually the bots connected directly to the security guards to alert them to trespassers, but since the network was down Freddy had little fear of them actually alerting Vanessa. Even if Gregory was spotted, he doubted anyone would be summoned to catch him.

True to his word, as soon as they stepped into the arcade they could see quite a few bots roaming around. Even though it was closed for the night, the ambient sounds and lights from the game consoles meant that the room still felt like it was bustling with life. Unfortunately, the downside to this was that the chaotic, clashing noises interfered with Freddy's advanced robotic hearing. At least his vision wasn't affected, so he could still keep watch for danger. Their goal was on the complete other end of the arcade, so Freddy cautiously began to make his way towards that direction, on the lookout for anything amiss.

Charlie walked alongside Gregory, glancing around. Perhaps both she and Freddy worked on navigating the room too much—as their sight turned from Gregory, the kid had been distracted easily by the bright lights and midi sounds around them. One game caught his eye in particular.

As the animatronics paused and waited for a security bot to pass, Gregory absently backtracked for the arcade machine. Before him in the dark corner where no security trailed sat a video game called Princess Quest. Gregory reached into his pocket, gaze fixed on the untouched and rather dusty console as he fished out a quarter. Not just any quarter, though—this special quarter had been drilled into at one side. A thin strand of fishing lure with a sturdy knot at its end tied the coin to Gregory’s finger. Perfect to trick the machine into thinking he had deposited its credits. Without hesitation Gregory began to play, so entranced by the game it was as if he’d momentarily forgotten the danger around him.

***

The walk through the arcade was going surprisingly well. They hadn't been spotted by any security bots, nor could Freddy see any wayward animatronics coming after them. For once, things seemed to be going as planned! Maybe they'd even make it before—

“...Where's the kid?” the voice cut into Freddy's reverie, a slight hint of panic in its tone. “Oh, for fuck's sake—ugh, I still can't move this thing! Freddy, turn your damn head around and LOOK! Where. Is. Gregory?!”

“Where is...?” Freddy actually responded aloud, doing as the voice said. His head swiveled rapidly, trying to spot the boy who'd been by his side moments before. “Oh no—Charlie, do you see Gregory?!”

“He’s right here—” Charlie went to soothe, reaching for the boy’s hand… only for her fingers to grasp nothing but air. Raising her arms and touching the back of her head in panic, she spun around and searched the visible parts of the room.

“Gregory?! Gregory!” she called fervently, spinning in place once, twice. After a second, she pointed to the opposite end of the arcade. “You look that way, I’ll check over here! He couldn’t have gone far…”

Freddy nodded, retracing their path and paying no mind to the security bots as he went. One actually ran into his side, but Freddy simply pushed it away with barely any acknowledgement and it returned to its preset path an instant later.

***

This game was weird.

It felt broken—glitchy even. Gregory’s character, the titular Princess, was bopping around the little puzzle rooms sometimes as if it were trying to escape the game itself while avoiding the weird purple junk. Gregory could see why it was hardly touched. While charming, the game was very broken.

Still, he was almost done, and wanted to see how it ended.

***

“You seriously let him get away here, of all places?!” the voice chided as Freddy walked. “An arcade? Do you know how easily distracted kids get?! What if he's wrapped up in a game and something—”

“Will you stop talking?!” Freddy hissed, finally able to speak directly to the voice now that no one but the security bots were around to hear him. The bear gave a frustrated huff, trying to keep focused. “This false anxiety is not helping! Or... whatever this is.”

He trailed off, not wanting to lose his concentration at the task at hand. This virus in his head was certainly a weird one—why it simulated feelings of panic, Freddy had no idea. Right now, all he wanted it to do was be quiet.

“...Sorry,” the voice mumbled after a moment. “This is weird for me, too—trust me.”

“There is no 'you'—you are simply a piece of errant coding that I will be very happy to get rid of soon!” Freddy snapped back, not in the mood for whatever mind games this thing was designed to play. He was about to lecture some more when he spotted a distinct flash of blue fabric nearly hidden in a dark corner of the arcade. Freddy turned and made a beeline for the boy, calling out to him. “Gregory!”

How could the game just end like that? Does she never escape the tower? That purple, inky drip simply catches up to her?

And that scream at the end… It sent chills up Gregory’s spine. That wasn’t a regular midi file—that was a legit shrieking girl.

At the sound of Freddy’s concerned call, Gregory turned and waved to his bear protector.

“Freddy! Look, I beat Princess Quest!” he mentioned excitedly, even if just to forget the morbid ending. Gregory felt like it didn’t send the best message to kids—that they’ll always be trapped, no matter how hard they try to escape.

Within seconds Gregory was picked up yet again, cradled in Freddy's arms as the bear held him tightly. Freddy didn't want to admit it, but whatever this thing in his head was that simulated panic was starting to get to him. Something about the thought of losing Gregory was just... incomprehensible.

“Please do not ever run off like that again without telling Charlie or me, alright?” Freddy said, pulling back to look him in the face.

“God—he looks so much like him...” There was a definite catch in the voice this time, as if it were fighting back a sudden wave of tears. To Freddy's horror, even though he couldn't cry he swore he felt the sensation of wanting to. The bear shook his head, chasing away the feeling and refocusing on Gregory.

“Do you understand?” he asked again, needing the boy to realize the severity of the situation they were in.

Oh… Gregory knew that look. That was the shame-filled disappointment and fear-fueled glare of a caretaker who’d been worried for no good reason. Gregory must've put Freddy under high duress to be given a stare like that. Wiping under his nose, Gregory got the point.

“Sorry, Freddy… I just never noticed that game before. I should’ve told you I wanted to check it out,” he apologized.

Freddy simply stared at him for a moment, taking in Gregory's guilty expression before letting out a small sigh and pulling him in for another hug. This embrace was much less desperate and far more comforting.

“I am not upset with you; I was just worried,” he explained, giving the boy a soft smile. He glanced around the arcade, realizing that Charlie must be at the complete opposite end. Indeed, if he squinted Freddy could see a long, thin shape scaling the Prize Counter itself. In the high netting near the ceiling among various large-scale plushies and toys, she was scanning for their wayward friend. Freddy began walking towards her, Gregory now settled against his hip.

This time, Gregory even hugged him back. It was a tight squeeze that encompassed one of Freddy’s shoulder pads and right around his neck joint. Being carried around was turning out to be a major plus for the kid—while he was fast, standing for too long was starting to make him dizzy from the lack of regular meals this past week.

“So you beat a game you have never played before? Good job, superstar!” Freddy praised as they walked. He tilted his head curiously, recalling the name Gregory mentioned. “I have never heard of Princess Quest, either; it is not registered in my databank of arcade consoles at the Pizzaplex. Perhaps it was recently installed and my system has not been upgraded with that information.”

“Yeah!” the kid bragged as they weaved through the bulky arcade boxes. “It was so weird. You play this little yellow princess, and I think she dies at the end? Or gets trapped in a castle forever… I’m not sure. These little shadowy bunnies try to bite you throughout the game, too—”

“Hey!” Charlie hissed in relieved surprise as the pair approached. “Where the heck did you go, Gregory?” Charlie plucked a small Glamrock Freddy plush from its top shelf perch, holding onto it as she descended before Gregory and the aforementioned bear.

“There’s a new video game I had to play…,” Gregory explained for a second, equally shameful time.

Freddy was... strangely quiet. He wasn't quite frozen, although his eyes were definitely delayed as they tracked Charlie crawling down to ground level. He felt like his consciousness was being sort of pulled away, the increasingly-familiar feeling of dread rising like a wave. Freddy knew it was because of that voice, which was currently murmuring a string of unintelligible curses in his ear with increasing alarm.

“Stop...,” the bear whispered, so quietly it was barely audible. He couldn't bring himself to move, though he wanted to set Gregory down. He didn't feel like he was going to hurt the boy—he'd never do that—but his lack of control over his own body scared him. Nothing happened for a few agonizing seconds, until the voice finally responded.

“Oh shit, sorry, I... I don't know why I'm freaking out, um...” The voice took an audible breath, as if trying to calm itself. “I, uh... I don't like shadow bunnies. Or... bunnies in general, really. Haven't thought about them in a while, so I was... taken off-guard. Sorry. I-I'll try and relax.”

“Thank you,” Freddy responded. Then his eyes widened as he realized he'd said that aloud, which to Gregory and Charlie seemed completely unprompted. Quickly, he tried to cover up his slip. “Ah, thank you, Charlie, for helping search! And for the plushie—look, Gregory, it is just the one you wanted, right?”

“Right on! This is exactly what I wanted!” Gregory rejoiced as he squeezed the high-quality prize in his arms. Charlie in the meantime scanned over Freddy’s face, scratching her mask.

Gregory may have been easily tricked, but Charlie wouldn’t be fooled by such a clear fumble. She was fine handing off the plush to the boy, who easily snatched it up and cuddled it in his arms. Despite Charlie’s worry for Freddy, the last thing she expected from the kind-hearted bear was violence. No, she suspected something very different was going on—and unfortunately, something also very familiar.

“No problem, really… You’re okay, right, Freddy?” Charlie asked. No accusations in her tone of voice, only honest concern for a friend.

“Perfectly fine,” Freddy replied, surprised at how easily the lie slipped off his tongue. Maybe that was the work of the virus, too...

Charlie accepted his answer. Freddy hadn’t lied to her before—she didn’t think he could lie, actually. Something was clearly wrong, but maybe Freddy he didn’t even know it yet? It never ended well if she pushed such things, anyway. For now, Charlie would keep an eye on him and wait.

“Now, the security office should be just through that door over there.” Freddy inclined his head towards said door, which was behind the Prize Counter. According to his map, it led to a set of back passageways that would take them directly to the office. Shifting Gregory to one arm so he had a limb free, Freddy moved to the door and turned the knob.

...Well, he tried to. And then he tried again. And again. To his utter frustration, this door was locked as well.

“We must find another way in—I cannot get through.” The bear gave a heavy sigh, looking around for any other path they could use.

And then he saw it—down by the floor, a metal grate with questionable stability marking the opening.

The vents.

“Oh, Gregory and I can enter the air duct! Then we’ll let you in, Freddy,” Charlie suggested, following the bear's line of sight. Gregory would be safe with her. Not that she was suspicious of Freddy’s intentions, she was just worried the supernatural “glitches” may slow his decision-making skills. She reached for Gregory who stretched his hands out towards her, moving almost on instinct by this point as he was transferred from one caretaker to the next.

“No!”

The shout that came out of Freddy was sudden and very, very wrong. The bear's eyes widened and he pressed a paw over his mouth while his other hand gripped onto Gregory tightly. So much for “relaxing”—the virus had actually managed to take over his voice box in its sudden ferocity to communicate. And to Freddy's dismay, it was still trying to do so.

What happened next would be almost comical if the situation surrounding it wasn't so frightening: Freddy began arguing with himself, speaking in two distinct voices, the second one sounding quite strange to be coming out of the normally mild-tempered robot.

“Don't go in the vent—!"

“No, that is a very logical plan. Charlie, please, take Gregory and—”

“Charlie, do NOT, I swear to god—”

“Yes, go!” Freddy clenched his teeth, doing his best to regain control. “Just go and get Gregory to the office—come back for me once he is safe, and I—”

“You don't know what's in there!” The voice was frantic, panic actually showing on Freddy's face now, his usually-friendly expression twisted into one of abject terror for his friends. If one looked closely, there was a hint of something real and terrified behind the animatronic's bright, blue eyes. “Please—you... you don't know what could happen...”

Gregory suddenly wasn’t very comfortable being in Freddy’s arms… But moving wasn’t a great idea as long as whatever was fighting to gain control inside of him waged war within Freddy’s mind.

What was trying to use Freddy to speak? Was it worth listening to? The boy certainly hadn’t the faintest idea.

But that voice? Charlie knew that voice. Wordlessly, she stood tall and watched Freddy argue before the so-called “virus” took command of the vessel to plead with them.

“No way… Michael?!” she asked, soft with pure disbelief. She reached forward, long fingers brushing the sides of Freddy’s head as she analyzed his face, those pinprick, silver dots in her eye sockets staring deep into the soul underneath the metallic mask.

After a moment, Charlie let out a gentle laugh. “What took you so long, buddy?”

Chapter Text

Prepare for the horrors
This night will keep repeating over and over
And over, until you make it to the end
They hide 'round the corners
You better peel your eyes and keep looking over
Your shoulder 'cause you'll never be alone again

~Never Be Alone by Shadrow~

“Michael?” Gregory questioned, utterly confused. Had he stopped paying attention at some point? Why was this jerk messing with Freddy so badly? And why did Charlie know him? “Who the hell is Michael?”

The bear simply stared at the wall for a moment, slack-jawed as the two beings wrestled internally. Then someone got the upper hand, and the animatronic perked up to exclaim:

“I'm Michael! Oh my god, Charlie, I—” The bear flinched, clutching the sides of his head and speaking through clenched teeth. “Fuck, this AI is so strong—he really fights... I've been trying to—”

A sharp shake of Freddy's head cut the voice off in an instant. He blinked a few times before standing up straight, gaze swiveling between his companions.

“I... do not fully understand what is happening,” Freddy admitted slowly, frowning in confusion. “But we can discuss this after Gregory is in that security office. Now please hurry and open the door before this thing tries to come through again!”

He was right; it wasn’t a good idea to argue out in the open. Besides, Charlie had no doubts about who was inhabiting the Glamrock bear—that was absolutely Michael Afton’s inherited Brighton accent just as Charlie fondly remembered it. It’d been his soul all along!

With that realization, Puppet had no problem leaving Gregory with the possessed bear. She nodded, patting Gregory’s head reassuringly before crouching low and latching onto the vent. There was no time to waste as she inelegantly removed the vent cover and squeezed on through. The harder part was fitting the cover back and making sure it stayed before she made a beeline for the security office.

Gregory wasn’t positive he felt comfortable knowing that Freddy was slowly being put in second place by this… virus? Glitch?

Placing his hands firmly on the bear’s face, he looked into his protector’s eyes. “Who am I talking to right now?”

“Do not worry, superstar—it is Freddy,” he reassured with a smile. Regardless of what was going on with him personally, he needed Gregory to know that he was safe. “I am sorry about this. Something is happening that I have never experienced before, and my programming does not have any protocols to deal with it.” His gaze softened and he slowly reached a paw up to card through Gregory's hair, gently so as not to scare him away. “But for now, I can assure you that whatever this ‘Michael’ is, it only wants to protect you—just as I do.”

Not that this was any excuse for the thing trying to take over his body, but at least it might reassure the boy somewhat. And to that end, it now that Gregory was definitely not going in the vents the voice decided to back off for the time being. Freddy knew it wouldn't stay down for long, but perhaps it sensed the kid’s distress as well and smartly opted to let the bear comfort him.

Just cuddle into Freddy’s shoulder and shut your eyes, Gregory thought to himself. Things he didn’t quite understand were at play here. Tonight the strange mystery of the Pizzaplex thickened in its secrets. Hugs may not get rid of every problem, but that wouldn’t stop Gregory from trying his damndest to make it so.

Freddy appreciated the hug as well—more than Gregory would ever know. The embrace gave them both silent reassurance that as long as they were together and safe, everything was going to be alright.

It had to be.

***

As Charlie crawled through the vents, her mind raced with the possibilities. Did Michael know what was going on? If he never passed from this earthly plane, were there others who still tethered themselves to this dreadful place?

Her old friend had come back to her yet again. And for what?

She’d been under the assumption this whole ordeal had dealt him a great toll of emotional and physical damage. The fire severed Michael’s connection to his rotten husk of a body, and Charlie hadn’t wanted to curse him with a Gift. Not after everything he'd already been through. 

So why return?

Maybe he didn’t even have a choice, like me, she thought as she busted through the second vent covering, slithering onto the office tiles. It wasn’t long before the door to the Arcade opened, inviting the pair inside the security room.

As soon as the door opened Freddy rushed himself and Gregory to the office, smacking both locks for good measure. He wasn't going to leave the doors shut the entire time like they tried previously, but at least for the moment they all needed assurance that nothing else could get in. To Freddy's relief this office did seem to have a bit more power than the last one.

“Here, Gregory—please eat something,” Freddy said after setting the boy in one of the swivel chairs. His chest cavity opened and he took the bags out, handing everything to Gregory. Then, Freddy turned his gaze to Charlie. “...I feel there are some things that you and I need to discuss, Charlie.”

Just forget whoever Michael is and eat the grilled chicken, Gregory told himself. With his meal before him and eyes wider than dinner plates he tucked into the sandwich and soda, strategically saving his dessert for last.

“Thanks, Freddy!” he remarked before completely losing interest in anything that wasn’t food or his new toy. Preoccupied with savoring his meal, Gregory spun in the office chair and happily munched away, the plushie tucked right up against his hip.

Charlie came closer to the animatronic bear, thin fingers laced together in front of her in a rather guilty pose. She knew this virus by name—was apparent friends with it, too. They both had questions that could be exchanged.

“Here, to the back of the room,” she murmured, the shock still hitting her in waves as she took Freddy gently by the arm and guided him away.

“I am sorry about all of this,” Freddy apologized as they settled in a corner that had the least chance of Gregory overhearing them. He felt weirdly guilty about this whole thing, as if this was somehow all his fault. Logically, he knew this wasn't the case—he still didn't understand what was actually happening, so how could he be responsible for it?

Yet, the regret was slowly eating away at him... though he reasoned it was likely “Michael’s” doing.

“As you clearly saw, I am experiencing a major malfunction,” Freddy tried to explain as best he could. “The voice that came out of my mouth belongs to a virus that is trying to take control of my systems. I do not know how or why I was infected, but I can confirm that it does not mean Gregory any harm—if it did, I would never have endangered either of you by keeping it hidden.”

His gaze was measured and serious, locked onto Charlie’s pinprick eyes.

“It appeared earlier this evening and has only gotten stronger as the night has progressed. I... I do not know what its end goal is, though I fear it is trying to completely take over. It was only able to speak in my head until right after we left the charging pod. Ah—” Freddy blinked a few times as he recalled what happened then; it seemed like so long ago. “—but you were shut down during that time, so you did not hear.”

Charlie felt bad that Freddy was embarrassed about Michael causing these outbursts. She couldn’t blame him for feeling the way he did, patting his arm in consolation.

“Freddy you don’t need to apologize. It’s okay. I’m sorry to say I’ve…” Charlie paused, seeming hesitant—or just unsure of how to properly explain it. “I’ve been keeping secrets from you both. I know Michael. He’s my oldest, dearest friend. You can trust him.”

Her answer was all well and good, but it left a glaring question: how on Earth would she know a virus to begin with? This led to the first part of Charlie’s wild explanation.

“Michael isn’t a computer program. He’s a boy. Well, more like a man—an old, old man,” she went on, wondering if Michael was even aware of how badly she was burning him. She rubbed the back of her cloth-covered head. “He must not’ve had anywhere else to go, so he hitched a ride with you…”

“I'm not that old...,” Michael murmured, though still in Freddy's mind for now. The bear flinched, now weirdly sensitive to the virus—or, not-virus?

“I do not understand what you are saying,” Freddy admitted with a shake of his head. “I am experiencing a malfunction unlike anything that could be considered errant coding or a simple software issue. There is something inside my core programming that should not be there—and that can only be a virus.” He spared a glance at Gregory, who was still happily in his own little world, then lowered his voice even further. “Despite how our AI might make it seem to others, we are just machines.”

To explain something like this delicately wouldn’t be easy, especially to a being with logical processors for brains. Freddy’s confusion was understandable, as Charlie’s statement of facts was lacking so far.

“Well! I guess you could, uh… You could say Mike’s a ghost.” Charlie let the statement hang there a moment, glancing away from the bear. “I wanted to tell you eventually, but… I’m like Michael! A spirit with nowhere to go.”

She refused to look at Freddy. She hadn’t said it out loud in so long that the personality of the Puppet had become Charlie. Charlie was the Puppet, and vice-versa—they’d spent so long together that they began and ended with one another. Here Michael and Freddy’s merge was too new, and Freddy definitely wanted to keep his autonomy with his superior AI.

“I didn’t want to say it around Gregory,” Charlie whispered, hoping the bear would believe her.

Freddy simply stared at her for a good, long while, his gaze fixed and unblinking.

“A... ghost,” he echoed eventually, sounding wholly unconvinced. “According to the knowledge in my databank, ghosts are not one hundred percent proven to exist. And even if they did... what are you suggesting? That I am—” He thought for a moment, pulling up the correct terminology. “—possessed?! That you are possessed?!”

“That's the simplified version, yeah,” Michael chimed in with a resigned sigh. “Never thought I’d be in this position, and I can't say I'm happy about it, but at least—”

“Oh, will you be quiet?!” Freddy exclaimed loudly, the sound echoing through the enclosed space. He looked to Gregory again, who was now staring right back at him. The bear grimaced, muttering to Charlie: “...Ah. This is quite hard for me to process, but I suppose it would explain the distinct personality of this 'Michael,' if true...”

Gregory blinked at Freddy with a mouthful of food. He didn’t seem like the kind of AI to lose their cool in such a way. If Gregory learned anything from the foster home, when two “adults” were arguing it was best not to get into the middle of it. He kept silent, head bending down as if his sandwich was the most interesting thing in the world before distracting himself with the security feed blinking to life on the monitors.

“This is… really hard for me to talk about,” Charlie let Freddy know, unable to meet his gaze with her own empty eye sockets. “When I was human, my father was the co-owner of the original Fazbear dinner. Then, one day, I met with a terrible fate…”

It was too vivid. William had lashed out in a sudden rage, and Charlie spent so long blaming herself for something that seemed like an accident at first… Though she soon learned that the Afton patriarch was much more disturbed than anyone could’ve ever predicted, and perhaps his fit of rage hadn't been so unprompted after all. 

“My robot, the Puppet, found me outside. She was supposed to protect me, and something… something happened out there—something that bonded us together,” Charlie tried to explain to the best of her knowledge, sparing Freddy the gory details. “Michael must’ve latched onto you the same way, of his own free will. I definitely didn't help him...”

There was still so much fight in that broken man.

Freddy pressed a hand to his temple, feeling the animatronic equivalent of a headache coming on. This was… a lot. So much information to process out of scope of the robot’s preprogrammed understanding. His normal logic didn’t work in this scenario, and it honestly scared him.

But… even so, there was no reason for Charlie to lie about such a wild claim. Freddy knew there was a vast wealth of knowledge not in his databanks—maybe all this talk of ghosts was just part of that missing information?

“She’s right,” Michael spoke when Freddy failed to respond. His voice was soft, placating, and tired. He sounded like a man who’d been through hell and back again. “There are so many things going on that you have no idea about, Freddy, and I’m sorry I roped you into them. I didn’t mean to latch onto you specifically, it was just… God, it's still so fuzzy. All I know is that I didn't have many options at the moment and you were the best bet.”

“It… Michael… he says he did not mean to latch onto me specifically,” Freddy slowly parroted aloud, no longer wanting to keep the man’s thoughts to himself. “He had few options of who to cling to… there are things going on that I do not understand—wait.”

Freddy’s gaze snapped to the Puppet. Fazbear Entertainment made a point to upload as little of their sordid history as possible into their Glamrocks, only proving them with names of the founders and their children. Freddy didn’t even have reference pictures for anyone but William Afton and Henry Emily, but it was that second name that struck a chord.

Henry Emily… he had two kids—a son, Samuel, and a daughter named Charlotte.

“Yes, that’s it!” Michael cheered. He couldn’t exactly read Freddy’s thoughts, but he could sense the bear’s growing enlightenment. “Here, let me try something.”

After a moment of focused silence, an image formed in Freddy’s mind—warped and unclear at first, but it soon revealed a smiling, teenage girl wearing the fashion of decades past. Michael let out a tired huff. “It’s one of my memories; did it work? Again, learning as I go here.”

In response, Freddy’s face twisted in sympathetic confusion. “Oh, Charlie… you are… just a child?”

Charlie no longer thought of herself as a child. Yet it was clear from tonight and the comfort from the Daycare that she still felt like one. Her soul was young and carefree, weighed down with trauma and burdens too heavy for anyone to rightly bear. Though she knew that if she didn’t save those souls, no one else could.

How old was she when she passed away? It was a while ago, and the exact age was hard to recall. After a moment’s thought, she found the answer.

“I was… sixteen, yes.” Charlie replied with the garnered maturity that taking care of others had brought her. Freddy’s distress made her sigh. “I didn’t want to upset you, Freddy... You really are a sweet bear.”

She would leave it at that for now. But onto the worst detail of all—one that Charlie had especially dreaded telling her latest ally.

“The real virus—the one that’s controlling your friends—that’s the true threat. And if it’s the same reason we’re awake, it has to do with our shared aggressor: William Afton.” She even feared saying his name. If Charlie had a stomach, its contents would have turned from the pain and confusion the memory that simple moniker wrought.

Michael’s soul—yes, Freddy could admit that now—flinched violently at the name. Despite this immediate reaction, a vengeful, bubbling anger was quick to take over, making the docile animatronic wince.

“That… that is impossible,” Freddy murmured with a frown. He didn’t sound confident in his words, however. “William Afton disappeared decades ago—no one knows what happened to him. At this point, he is presumed to be… dead.” He hung his head in acceptance. “Ah.”

And there was the kicker: if Charlie and Michael were indeed ghosts of humans that perished years ago, who was Freddy to assume that William wasn’t in a similar situation?

But then… why was he doing this? What did happen to him? To Charlie… to Michael…

And what was going to happen to Gregory and his animatronic friends if they didn’t stop this virus soon?

All these heavy questions remained a mystery to Charlie. William had avoided her like the plague the moment he found out she was inhabiting Puppet. It was the only shaky piece of evidence Charlie had that William was remotely capable of shame or regret, yet it wasn’t anywhere near enough to sate her anger.

“I wish I knew why he even started doing this,” Charlie murmured, admitting her lack of in-depth knowledge even after all these years. Maybe that’s why she’d come back, for a sense of closure. “William was never the same since—”

Charlie stopped herself, remembering present company. It’d been decades, but she knew that Michael never forgave himself for the accident. Poor Evan. The lack of any sign of the old Freddy suit wandering the Pizzaplex likely meant that Evan was yet to return. It’d been Charlie’s goal this whole time to recreate their happiest days in hope that the pain and confusion would pass… yet the victims never ceased and Charlie’s work was never complete.

“I’ve stopped asking myself why. We have to prevent it before anything bad happens to Gregory.” She gave a little sigh then looked into Freddy’s eyes, finally coming to her first question for the bear. “Have you noticed anything strange happening in the Pizzaplex before tonight?”

Freddy was so preoccupied with trying to process and catalog information, it took him a moment to register that Charlie asked him a question. The sudden wave of crippling guilt from Michael didn’t help either, though the only thing the ghost offered was a mumbled: “Sorry, I’m… I’m sorry; I’ll explain later.”

“Anything strange?” Freddy repeated slowly, frowning in thought. “Well, the others have been a bit off at night, though nothing to the extent of the way they have acted towards Gregory this evening. Otherwise—” He paused, mouth slightly open as he recalled the confusion of a few months ago.

“Oh… Yes, one incident stands out: approximately four months ago, Bonnie went missing. It happened overnight and staff has never given us a satisfactory explanation. All I know is that I saw Bonnie leave his room shortly after 12 am, and when he failed to return the next morning there was a search for him.”

The bear’s frown deepened as he regurgitated all the details he could.

“I… I was not allowed to actively search, nor were the other animatronics. The human staff were responsible for that, though I feel they were… inefficient. After only a few days, they announced Bonnie’s replacement in the band was Monty—he used to be just a walk around character—and the following morning we played our first show without him.” Freddy let out a heavy sigh. “I feel as though this is when everything started going wrong—at least from my recollection.”

Charlie touched her face, rubbing it as if to self-soothe and relieve stress.

“Of course the bunny went missing…,” she sighed. Taking a second to calm down, she glanced back at Freddy, trying to look through him this time. “Mike? Did you hear that?”

Puppet wondered if he’d been thinking the same thing and her: that the rabbit character’s mysterious disappearance only made sense with the return of William. It was beginning to look like he needed a new vessel to possess; surely at old springlock suit was nothing but a pile of ash now. Yet that didn’t explain—

“And that bunny lady; what do you guys think of her?” Charlie asked, hand poised and propping up her chin.

“I sure did hear that,” Michael chimed in, snagging hold of Freddy’s voice box while the bear was distracted. Freddy’s eyes widened at the sudden highjack and he touched his mouth with a tentative paw.

“Oops—sorry Freddy, I should’ve asked first,” Michael apologized, now back to just a voice in his mind. He gave a wry, hollow sort laugh. “Still not good with the whole body-sharing thing...”

“For once, we are in agreement,” Freddy mumbled, then to Charlie he replied: “There is no ‘bunny lady’ in the Pizzaplex. The only active rabbit character was Bonnie, though as I just mentioned he has been missing for months.”

“But…” Charlie glanced away. Was she remembering things wrong? When she finally had the wherewithal to respond, she sounded adamant. “You were right there. You didn’t see the lady in the white, patchwork suit?”

It’d been the reason for her short circuit, too. This raised further questions that Charlie wasn’t sure they were equipped to handle.

“I did not,” Freddy confirmed with a shake of his head. “Although I will keep an eye out for one in the future.”

That didn’t sound like a character Fazbear Entertainment would instate, especially without any prior warning or marketing. But perhaps Charlie saw something before Freddy found her in the ball pit? He’d never figured out how she’d gotten there, anyway…

“I… have a small proposition,” the bear said after a moment, his voice uncharacteristically tired. “While I accept the information you are telling me, it is difficult for me to process many of these concepts. Now that I am assured Michael is not a threat… I am willing to let him have control for a short while so I can spend some time internally cataloguing everything I have learned.”

“Really?!” Michael sounded genuinely surprised. “Wow, you are advanced! Man, if I could actually get out of here and check out your AI—”

“Let us not think of that right now,” Freddy replied quickly. The last thing he wanted was the ghost messing with him more than he already was. The bear looked to Charlie again, offering a small smile. “Is that alright with you? The only caveat is we need to tell Gregory something first—although I have already been crafting an explanation that saves him many, ah… unfortunate details, so I can handle that before I step back.”

While it wasn’t exactly her fault for the sad backstory of their lives, Charlie felt guilty for overwhelming the kind-hearted bear.

“I understand Freddy. If you could talk to him before you take a break, that’d be awesome!” she encouraged.

As she turned to check on Gregory, he’d long-since scarfed down his sandwich and was working on demolishing the pack of Chica’s Cupcakes. Thankfully, the kid sat mostly unaware of the morbidity his situation involved.

Freddy nodded, then moved to Gregory’s side. His expression instantly softened as he looked at the boy—no matter what outlandish knowledge Freddy learned, Gregory was most important. Keeping the boy safe and sound was his only true goal right now.

“It looks like you are enjoying your meal, superstar!” the bear said with a chuckle, noting a glob of pink icing around Gregory’s mouth. “When you finish, I would like to speak to you about something.” He saw a look of guilt start to cross Gregory’s face and quickly added: “You are not in trouble; Charlie and I just need to explain what is going on with Michael, alright?”

Gregory’s tongue flicked to the corner of his mouth, catching the sugary paste and savoring its taste before swallowing it down.

“You mean the guy that lives in your head…?” he asked. This Michael was an enigma to Gregory right then, and he wasn’t sure if he could trust the glitch in Freddy’s AI. Discarding the empty plastic container his cupcakes came in, Gregory gave Freddy his now undivided attention.

“That is the one,” Freddy replied with a strained smile. “I can reassure you that Michael is not a virus, and is therefore not a threat.” The bear crouched, wanting to be more eye-level with Gregory so the boy didn’t feel like he was being talked down to. Freddy guessed he was antsy enough that the “adults” were having discussions without him, and didn’t want to make him feel worse.

“Think of it this way: you know how each animatronic has their own personality? Well, those are not stored in our bodies, but in our code,” Freddy continued. “If someone really wanted to, they could shut this body down and upload my personality into, say… a Chica model instead. It is a strange concept, but it is simply how we robots work!”

He hoped this was doing the trick; he wanted to make it as easy as possible for Gregory to accept that Michael was sticking around for the time being. “Though Michael is not quite the same as the animatronics, he is in a similar situation: essentially, his personality has been uploaded into my body and now we are sharing it. However, we are still distinct entities—I am still Freddy, and he is still Michael. Does that make sense?”

Gregory had nothing else to liken the situation to. Two consciousness’s sharing the same body… How something like this happened went beyond his computer knowledge, though the lack of knowing didn’t necessarily scare him.

“If you think Michael’s cool, then I trust it,” Gregory rationalized. After all, Freddy had been making all the right calls to keep them safe so far—he doubted the bear would suddenly decide to turn against him now. Freddy would still be Gregory’s favorite even if he had some stranger’s personality floating around inside his brain. Jumping off the creaking swivel chair to stretch his legs, Gregory offered him a smile. “I don’t see you any differently! Don’t worry, Freddy.”

“I appreciate you taking this so well, superstar,” Freddy said, gently patting Gregory’s shoulder. “Now, I am a bit tired, so I am going to take a brief rest and let Michael talk for a bit. However, I will be right here and listening the entire time, so if you need me for anything just call for me and I will come right back.”

He smiled expectantly, wanting a final okay from Gregory before letting the ghost take over.

Gregory fidgeted with the bandages wrapped delicately on his fingers as Freddy explained the current plan. Sure, Gregory wanted Freddy to rest, but he wasn’t 100% ready to meet this Michael… Regardless, he put on a brave face as he leaned forward and hugged Freddy’s neck.

“Alright… Feel better soon,” the boy said, giving him a hearty squeeze.

“Thank you,” the bear replied, squeezing him right back. Once Gregory released him Freddy stared straight ahead, preparing for whatever was about to happen. He didn't exactly know how a ghost took control of an animatronic, so he simply told the spirit: “Whenever you are ready, Michael.”

For a moment, nothing changed. Then Freddy's face went slack, not unlike what happened with the other Glamrocks upon sight of Gregory. However, he quickly perked up again before anyone could grow concerned, blinking rapidly and swiveling his head to and fro as he looked around the room.

“Did I... do it?” Michael's voice came through loud and clear, Freddy's mouth syncing to the words. Michael stared down at the blue-clawed paws in wonder, then let out a shout of excitement. He turned to Puppet lingering nearby and practically fell on her in a clumsy attempt at a hug—he didn't quite have the hang of moving the animatronic yet. “Hi, Charlie! Oh my god, I missed you so much!”

Before Charlie had even turned to face her old friend, she was sandwiched between a large metal body and the floor tiles. The surprise only startled her momentarily before Michael maneuvered Freddy’s arms to hug her.

“Michael! I can’t believe you waited this long to join the fun!” she exclaimed, sarcastic and chiding, though her sincere longing for her old friend was apparent. The gears in her joints could be heard working overtime as she squeezed Mike tight. “I have so much to tell you!”

Her mask was completely hidden as she nuzzled her head against him. How long had it been since she’d spoken to him when they were both in their right minds?

Gregory stood by and watched the happy reunion, his mouth twitching into a smile while he took his seat back in front of the security tape feeds.

“You and me both!” Michael said with a laugh. It took some effort on his part, but eventually he was able to make Freddy's body get off Charlie in favor of sitting on the floor, legs stretched out as he leaned back against the security desk.

“This thing is so weird to control...,” he murmured, looking down at his new metal body. Then he perked up with a gasp, the blue eyes bright and vibrant with life. “Oh, now that I can finally talk—my memory's kind of fuzzy, but I think I'm the one that salvaged you! I've been in Freddy for a while, just... dormant. There’s a big chunk missing, but I do remember waking up earlier tonight knowing something was wrong.”

He paused to grimace, not needing or wanting to discuss him right now.

Charlie’s hand flew to her head, amazed at Michael’s forethought. Whether he wanted to save the Puppet for sentimental reasons or because he knew that they would need Charlie, she pushed his shoulder out of joy. “Where did you find me?! I thought I burned up with the old diner!”

She’d been looking for everyone for such a long time. Cassidy was nowhere to be found, and Evan likewise—not one soul did Charlie see past the darkness. Perhaps they didn’t pass on yet, like Charlie had initially assumed... Maybe they were just powered down somewhere like she’d been, far out of her spectral reach.

“Um...” Michael thought hard, but something seemed to be clouding his memory. He couldn't quite remember the path he'd taken to get there, but he knew he'd found Charlie somewhere the animatronics probably shouldn't be able to go. “I'm... not entirely sure. You were in the diner, I know that—I was there, too. For... for the fire.”

Despite Henry's poetic thought process, Michael hadn't been a completely willing participant as his uncle claimed. Of course he wanted to move on, but he couldn't do so until he was absolutely sure that his father was well and truly gone. Unfortunately, the husk that was left of his body had succumbed to the flames before Michael could confirm this and, well... here he was again. The fact that Charlie's soul remained too only proved that William wasn't dead for good either.

“Anyway,” Michael continued, shaking his head. “Let's not dwell on that right now. Long story short, I found you, and now we're both here.” He spared a glance at the boy in the chair, raising Freddy's mouth in a small smile. “And so is Gregory, apparently. Hi, Gregory—sorry I hijacked your bear friend. I promise it wasn't intentional. Nice to meet you, regardless.”

He held out a hand, leaning forward so Gregory could shake if he wanted. Although, he wouldn't be offended if the boy was still wary—this was a lot to take in for a kid.

Charlie supposed that his memories would come in time. She found more about her previous life came back to her the longer she dwelled on it in death. She was just elated that her dearest friend returned to her—and that she’d regained enough control of her blind rage to see him for who he truly was instead of an unfortunate echo of his father.

Even if their situation was less than favorable, they’d be hard-pressed to find better company than those in this room together.

Charlie leaned into Michael, looking to gauge Gregory’s approach of the old ghost. The boy seemed a little shy but grasped Freddy’s hand nonetheless, likely in a sign of good faith. It was followed by Gregory’s next unprompted question.

“Why are you British?” he asked, excellently put for a twelve year old.

“No—” Charlie had done poorly at holding in a laugh as she gently reminded him: “—Gregory, we don’t just ask why people are British…”

Michael chuckled as well, though his was a bit subdued.

“One of my pare—uh… creators came from across the pond, so I picked up my accent from them; crazy how stuff like that can stick with you,” he explained simply, then flashed a grin. “You're quite a spunky kid, you know that? Charlie and Freddy are lucky to have you around.”

Gregory was stuck with them for the night whether he liked it or not, so Michael figured it would be best to let him know he wasn't a burden. He hadn't actually dealt with kids in quite a while due to his nightshift jobs and... other circumstances... but it this one was strangely easy to talk to.

And also very weird, too—despite his physical similarity to Evan, their personalities were completely different. Michael couldn't imagine his brother in such a high-stress situation and was glad that Gregory seemed to be taking things in stride.

Spunky? Gregory had become slightly bashful at the compliment. He pulled his hand away and shoved it inside his pocket with a smile. Gregory rarely received praise for his attitude, and it felt nice to be seen for once. Evan may have been one to crack under pressure, certainly, but Gregory’s whole life was pressure he’d already bent beneath. Though that timid smile and lack of eye contact did echo faint memories of Michael’s brother…

“Thanks Michael. Uh… Any friend of Charlie’s is my friend, too,” he relented, causing Charlie to relax on the floor at the interaction.

“Ditto,” Michael responded. He had the strongest urge to pull Gregory in for a hug, but he knew that would likely freak him out. Instead he turned to Puppet, his voice quiet. “You know, Charlie, I saw you in the old diner—before the fire, I mean. When I realized it was you I tried to reach out, but... I don't think you recognized me. Can't say I blame you.”

The bear's face grimaced, then his expression changed almost comically fast to one of wide-eyed fear. “Hey, you… you didn't see anyone else from the wreckage wandering around here, did you?”

Michael paused, taking a deep breath. He didn't want to scare Gregory with his clear nervousness, but he needed to know if that thing was also back. However, he realized there was a chance Charlie wasn’t aware of the other entities in the old diner either—or at least, that she hadn't actively conversed with them. The amalgamation was on an entirely different level than a wayward lost child's soul.

“Actually, let me backtrack—when you were stuck down there, did you talk to any of the other animatronics crawling around in the vents?” Michael cleared his throat, miming the gesture despite Freddy’s lack of lungs. “Specifically... one calling itself 'Ennard?'”

Charlie realized she had to help Michael through a stint of broken memories. He left her with something to mull over, so she attempted to fill him in as succinctly as she could.

“Ennard? Yeah, sounds vaguely familiar… That one had a whole lot of problems,” she recalled. Ennard had taken apart and put themselves back together more times than Charlie could count even in the short time she’d known them. She remembered specifically they were never satisfied with their shape or capabilities. They had an odd name, and an even stranger disposition.

“I haven’t run into anyone else from the restaurant, though. Not even Lefty…” Charlie pulled a sad sigh at that. Lefty had been a good friend—a dependable suit of armor that doubled as her confidant for those final moments. “Candy Cadet looked fine when I saw him, too! But he wasn’t online. I tried shaking him awake. Even tried using a burned quarter to get some candy. He totally stole my money!”

She pulled a face, then watched Gregory fish out the same trick quarter he’d used for his field trip in the arcade.

“Duh. You gotta use one of these if you don’t wanna lose your cash,” Gregory interjected, swinging the coin back and forth on its tether.

“Oh thank god,” Michael mumbled at Charlie's claim that she hadn't seen the amalgamation running around. Then he gave a loud, almost barking sort of laugh. “Ennard had way more problems than you even know... I'll tell you about it later when we're not in mixed company.”

Freddy's body gave a visible shiver, indicating that whatever Michael had to say about the strange animatronic, it definitely wasn't good.

“Anyway—neat trick, Gregory!” Michael addressed the boy, grinning at his ingenuity. “You know, I used to—er, I knew someone who did the same exact thing!”

Charlie patted at Michael’s shoulder, trying to quell the sudden anxiousness that she could see him battling with. When he admitted to Gregory that he’d known people skilled at cheating the money-laundering arcade set-up, she felt her inner soul smile at the memories. Sitting back with her arms crossed behind her head, she watched as Gregory scooted closer on his chair.

“How else do you get free sodas?” the kid asked. It was a tough world out there when everything costs money. Sadly no one at the Pizzaplex would give him a job when he’d first snuck in and asked.

Though the question was rhetorical, Michael decided to use his insider knowledge of literally growing up inside these establishments to help the kid out. Besides, it would further distract him from thoughts of weird clown masks and way too many wires...

“Hmm... well, the easiest way is to know a staff member who’s got the code that’ll make the vending machine spit out a drink—they use it to test that the machine is working after a jam,” Michael explained, ready and excited to teach Gregory how to best work the system. “Although I don't think that'll work for you, since the closest you've got is Freddy and I have a feeling he's not going to agree to something like that. Or, well... actually, I don't know.”

It was strange—this time it felt like one of the animatronic's fleeting thoughts popped up in the back of Michael's brain, the gist of it being that “hacking” the vending machine was such a minor infraction, it was easy to look past if it was done to help Gregory. Michael chuckled, then said: “Well, well, seems like we'll be table to teach ol' Freddy how to rebel a little bit after all. Gregory, try asking him to get you a free soda next time you pass a machine—see what happens.”

“Woah—that’s so cool...,” Gregory murmured, genuinely blown away that something in this place hated its surroundings enough to disregard any and all rules.

Mike knew more about Fazbear Entertainment than the others. Why he had such a niche understanding of how to steal from this place wasn't important—what was important was milking everything he knew for survival. And possibly, when all of this was over and done, Gregory could come back and rob the place blind with the help of the rogue AI known only as Michael.

“You wouldn't happen to know any other tricks, would you?” Gregory asked with a Cheshire grin, impish and ready to learn more of the secrets he knew Michael was holding back.

Charlie remembered well those hot summer days they’d forgotten bags of change in their rooms. Mike, being the oldest Afton, had been asked to help his dad at the diner so young—of course he’d been aware of those maintenance codes! Whenever their fathers weren't looking, Charlie would watch in silent awe as Michael worked the system around them to their benefit.

“You could teach him how to cheat at Ski-Ball next,” she suggested with a giggle.

“Oh my god, Ski-Ball!” Michael laughed heartily at the memories.

He’d figured out early on how to make the balls reset endlessly without feeding the machine quarter after quarter. He let out a wistful sigh, recalling the time he’d shown Charlie how to throw the ball at the perfect angle to fall in the highest-scoring hole—and when that failed, Michael simply walked up the ramp until he could throw it at close range. They’d done that for hours until his father caught them and chided them for wasting all the tickets… though he’d given them a choice of any prize from the counter for their efforts when Henry wasn’t looking—they had reached a high score, after all.

William had been nicer, then. The world had been nicer.

With a sudden pang of deep-seated guilt, Michael couldn’t believe things had gone so wrong.

“I’ll teach you some cool stuff soon, Gregory, okay? But enough about me for now—what about you?” Michael tilted the bear’s head curiously as he tried to distract himself from sinking into his regret. “Clearly you snuck in, but I don’t think you actually told us why you’re here after hours. Though, I certainly can’t blame you for wanting to explore everything you couldn’t get to during the day. This place is massive…”

Gregory knew this would come eventually. Sooner or later they’d ask him exactly what dire situation had brought him to this place. Gregory's back slid down the lumbar rest on his chair, slouching now as he thought on how to word it all. There was no need to worry his new friends any more than they already were.

“Oh, y’know...,” he began, nonchalantly reaching for the can of carbonated drink on the desk. He took an easy sip, forcing the bubbles down with a quick cough before continuing.

“I wanted a job! They told me I was too young. So, I figured if they wouldn't give me money, they could give me a free pizza,” he explained, looking away. “And some new shoes... A-And a place to sleep...”

Gregory wasn't dumb. He knew people were looking for him—or at least, they’d be looking eventually.

…Maybe.

“I'm not trying to go back home though,” Gregory made sure to say, flicking the metal tab at the top of his soda can balefully.

Michael narrowed his eyes at this. It was certainly not the answer he expected.

This kid was a runaway? Like, a real runaway, not trying to return to his parents at all? This only piqued his interest more, though Michael knew he had to careful about his response. Purely based on Gregory's demeanor, it was clear this topic was obviously sensitive and not one he liked to discuss.

“A job, huh?” Michael repeated with a nod. “Gotcha. Unfortunately, they don’t give jobs to kids under sixteen unless you’re good friends with upper management. Nepotism at its finest…”

He sighed and shook his head. Mike wanted more information though… And so did Freddy, whose counterpart to Michael’s verbal chatter in the back of his head was a low, mechanical hum. The AI was definitely attentive and listening in.

“But you’re not trying to go home? Any chance you’d tell us why?” Michael pressed, his tone calm and empathetic. He completely understood having a bad home life, more than Gregory would ever realize—and because of this, he also understood how hard it was for a kid to talk about. “And if you don’t want to talk to me, maybe you could tell Charlie or Freddy? I can bring that bear back anytime; he’s ready and waiting right in here.”

Michael tapped Freddy’s temple. He didn’t really want to give up autonomy yet, but he would if it meant Gregory was more willing to reveal his situation. The kid hadn't reengaged eye contact yet, still set on bending and ripping off the metallic tab to his soda can.

“Heh...” He laughed once, humorless and with his expression unchanging from that of ennui. There was no use in avoiding it. What would be the point in lying to these guys? They’d already spent so long proving that they’d keep him safe.

“So... I live at a foster home. My real parents aren't around anymore.” Gregory spoke simply, taking on the demeanor of someone much older than he really was. Content to kick up his feet on the desk, he discarded the pull tab, hearing it click on the ground before continuing. “They're not great parents… Actually, they’re super bad ones. They don't care if I get hurt, or if I don't eat. They don't care about any of their foster children. So I came to the last place I was happy...”

Though after everything that happened tonight, Gregory didn't know if those happy memories were going to be tainted by attempted child-maiming. As he spoke, his eyes flicked back to the camera feeds, worried that one of the crazed animatronics or even the night guard herself would appear around a corner.

“Oh, Gregory… I’m sorry,” Michael responded softly, too focused on Gregory’s words to notice his wariness towards the camera feeds. That certainly explained the kid’s avoidant behavior when it came to discussing anything about himself. There was a hardening behind Freddy’s bright eyes as Michael looked to the floor. “I understand, trust me; I… used to know someone with shitty a parent, too—ow! What, Freddy?!”

The bear had suddenly snapped in Michael’s ear, making a high-pitched ringing sound.

“Watch your language,” Freddy’s voice chided. “And please return control to me; I have come to terms with the situation.”

Michael sighed heavily.

“Okay, Freddy wants out—sorry for cursing. Don’t repeat bad words, kid.” Michael winked. “At least, not within Freddy’s earshot—okay, okay! Stop! God, stupid profanity filter…” Michael huffed, turning to the Puppet. “I’ll talk to you again soon, Charlie—it’s been far too long.”

He smiled and gave her a pat on one spindly leg. Then, the bear’s face went lax for a few seconds before coming back to life, looking around until it settled on Gregory. “Hello, superstar; I am back!”

While it was hard to speak about, telling someone about his abhorrent home life felt good to get off of his chest. Gregory would make sure to thank Michael the next time they could speak directly. As he patted Charlie's leg, one could see how she didn't want to let her friend go just yet. Unfortunately, she had to—Freddy needed his body back eventually, after all. To be a backseat passenger in your own head must feel odd.

Charlie was already thinking about a solution to their unique issue. Surely if she could move the souls of children, she wouldn't have an issue moving Michael's soul to a new vessel… She gently touched his hand, helping ease the transition as Freddy assumed charge once more. Gregory laughed at Michael's fumbling curses, his smile finally bursting through again as Freddy returned to them.

“Welcome back, Freddy! Feeling better?” Charlie asked curiously.

“Very much so,” the bear replied with a smile of his own, getting to his feet. He held his arms out to Gregory for a hug, a kindness in his eyes far greater than a simple robot should be able to express. “Thank you for sharing, Gregory; we will figure out a solution to your predicament of where to live. Do not worry.”

What that solution would actually be, Freddy didn’t yet know. He was just certain that Gregory could not return to that foster home, no matter what. Even staying in the Pizzaplex would be better—at least he’d have access to food, shelter, and two beings that cared for him (three counting Michael).

But… that wasn’t possible. It’s not like Freddy could simply adopt a human child. Plus, it was far too dangerous with the current virus situation. He’d have to think of something else before the night was out.

As Gregory reached over and pulled himself against Freddy to hug the big guy properly, Charlie slunk up to sit on the counter.

“We're going to make sure you get taken care of, okay, Gregory?” she added, rubbing the poor boy’s back as he sighed against his robot guardian.

It was rough for Gregory to admit he'd rather stay here. The feeling of danger was already familiar to him, even as his last smidgeon of self-preservation told Gregory this place would get him killed one day. He was too young to be around for the initial missing children's reports way back in the 80s, but he was aware that the franchise had mixed reviews from the public. There was always a sense of unease to Fazbear Entertainment that Gregory couldn't ignore.

And, for some reason, perhaps a part of him was drawn to it as well...

“I wanna stay here with you guys...,” he admitted, unable to let go of Freddy now that he’d shown true vulnerability.

Freddy looked sidelong at Charlie at this declaration. Even if the bear wasn’t aware of all the gruesome details, from context clues and Michael’s spiking anxiety he knew that staying here wasn’t safe for the boy. Even so, they didn’t really have much of a choice until 6am.

“We will stay with you as long as we are able to,” Freddy promised, and he meant every word. He hugged Gregory closer, running gentle claws through his hair. As he idly glanced behind Charlie at the monitor, his eyes widened in shock. There, only a few rooms away and heading right for them was the night guard. “Oh goodness, we were not paying enough attention—Vanessa is nearby!”

“She can’t get in with the doors locked, though,” Michael pointed out, then groaned in frustration when Freddy’s gaze shifted to the power meter. They’d forgotten to release the doors to lessen the power drain, and now there was barely a full bar left. “…Typical."

Chapter Text

It is just a glitch scattered in the system
Tell me that it's wrong, never gonna listen
World won't understand till they stand the vision
Mayhem, mayhem, three, two, one

~Under Control by Tryhardninja, Ivy Marie~

“We must prepare to move,” Freddy announced, releasing Gregory and snatching the next access card from its little bear-shaped holder on the desk. Now they’d be able to get into higher-level areas than before—including another security office.

As Freddy grabbed for the card, Charlie reached for Gregory. Of course there was always another hurdle to overcome. With it barely even being 2:00 in the morning, they still had a long time before the main doors opened again. God forbid something else went wrong; Gregory could be trapped here with them over the weekend, too...

“Freddy? There's a place around here with unused characters right?” Charlie asked, bouncing Gregory soothingly in her arms and they readied to speed from the security room. “I think I have a solution for you and Michael's problem.”

“Hmm? Oh, yes, there is a basement warehouse near Parts & Service; I believe unused characters are stored there as well,” Freddy responded a bit absently, watching the monitor as Vanessa approached the door.

“Freddy?” the guard’s voice soon rang out and she knocked harshly. “I can hear you in there! What the hell are you doing?! I gave you instructions to stay put, and now none of the Glamrocks are in their rooms!”

Vanessa sounded well and truly angry. She’d been running around searching for this phantom kid for nearly two hours, and she was tired.

“Ah, I was… using the cameras to see if I could track the child down!” Freddy replied, refusing to open the door until they absolutely had to. Speaking of cameras—

Another glance revealed yet another threat: Roxy was prowling through the arcade, directly in their path to the exit.

Charlie had half a mind to just press her face up to the double-walled security glass and scare Vanessa away. She didn't exactly deserve to be frightened so badly, yet they couldn't afford her slowing them down anymore. It seemed that right after she showed up so did the other animatronics, and that bunny might not be far behind either...

Roxy looked worse than before. What was she doing? Rolling in the left over oil at the Raceway? She normally held such pride in her appearance, reasonably grooming herself and making sure her model was in perfect, working condition before performances and “bedtime.” Now the cracks were showing—her metal chassis forming hairline fractures at stress points. Dirt and grime matted in the faux fur atop her head, smattering her cheeks and covering the paint-job makeup that the designers spent so long creating for her.

“You like playing games, Gregory?” growled Roxy, her voice heard past Vanessa in the arcade. “I know a game we can play—I'm a pro at hide and seek.”

The wolf was seething; her sharp maw would probably be dripping with drool if it could do such a thing.

Gregory held in his fearful sounds, choosing to close his eyes and bury his face in Charlie's thin shoulder. They knew he was there… but how?

If Michael had a body, he’d be shivering with fright at Roxy. Objectively he’d seen much worse over the years, but something about her tone, the way she was so clearly out for a child’s blood… that was utterly horrifying. Even the Funtime animatronics that were literally designed to capture children for William’s sick research purposes didn’t act like this. They behaved like relatively normal robots until a kid was close enough to grab, then they snapped and it was over in an instant.

But these Glamrock models… these were aware. And that made their actions so much worse.

“Bullshit!” Vanessa snapped as Michael fretted. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you guys, but as soon as I get in there you’re going straight back to your room and I’m putting you on extra-lockdown!” She wasn’t entirely sure if they actually had that protocol, but she couldn’t think of a better threat right now.

“Charlie, you must focus on getting Gregory out,” Freddy murmured. “Find somewhere safe—I will keep the others occupied as long as possible, then come and find you.”

“Are you talking to someone?!” Vanessa chimed in, and it was at that moment the door power failed. The distinctive sound of electronics shutting down could be heard as the lights in the security office went out. The door soon raised, revealing Vanessa standing there with hands on her hips. She let out a gasp, eyes widening at the sight of Gregory and the Puppet.

“What the—what the fuck are you?!” She shook her head with an annoyed growl, starting forward. “Whatever; hand over the brat. He’s caused enough trouble tonight.”

Charlie was aware that Vanessa had been in the dark about everything just like them. Really, the woman didn’t deserve most of the frustrations of tonight. Even so Charlie’s arms coiled around Gregory, almost constricting him as she let out an inhuman hiss.

“He didn’t do anything wrong! Leave him alone!” she warned, backing slowly away. She attempted to match Vanessa’s pace, planning to run out the opposite door. The goal would be to hightail it out of the arcade without Roxy catching either of them, but with the speed demon hounding for their blood she’d have to time it perfectly.

Gregory looked up to Vanessa, the fear in his face knotting into anger. “Hey! Who are you calling a brat, dumbass?!”

“Clearly you, kid.” Vanessa rolled her eyes. “Ugh, why do I have to find the one with the biggest attitude? Look, I just need to take you to a safe area so we can call the police and get in contact with your parents. You can even take your weird, clingy robot with you... What are you, anyway?” The guard paused, staring at the Puppet with a pinched expression of confusion. “Some knockoff Daycare attendant model? Or—oh my god, Freddy, get out of my way!”

The bear had placed himself directly in Vanessa's path, holding his arms out ready to physically restrain her if need be.

“I am sorry,” he said with a shake of the head. “But my child safety protocols indicate that, at this moment, Gregory is safest with me and Charlie.”

“What?!” Vanessa shrieked, clenching her fists so hard her knuckles went white. “There is absolutely no way your protocol would tell you that a kid is safer with a robot than a human! You're so malfunctioning right now; we’ve got to—ouch!”

Suddenly, Vanessa's face twisted into an expression of extreme pain and she doubled over, clutching her head.

“Officer Vanessa?! Are you alright?” Freddy asked, instinctively reaching out to help.

“Mmph, y-yeah... just... just a migraine...”

And major amnesia to follow, Vanessa thought, but there was no need to tell the robot about her chronic health issues. She remained hunched over, temporarily blocking out everything around her as she tried to get over this sudden attack. She couldn't afford to lose the kid again...

Gregory was ready to push Puppet aside just to fight Vanessa for her rude nature towards his friends, though Charlie held fast to the squirming child with her arms laced around his small frame. There was no room for arguing between them. With Freddy intervening and trying to talk some sense into Vanessa, Charlie put more space between the humans.

“Freddy—” she said, calm and collected as she watched Vanessa curl at the pressure building in her skull. “—Vanessa needs first aid. She doesn't look too good...”

“Who cares about her?!” Gregory snapped, eyes narrowed at the night guard. His sympathy was clearly thin for her right now, having been tracked down by her for over twenty-four hours by this point. “She's the weirdo who's been trying to kidnap me, remember?!”

“Gregory, please have some empathy. She's hurting...” Charlie remarked. All the while, they were completely unaware what was really happening inside of Vanessa's head.

Ẅ̴̛̪͍̽̑̈́͌͌̄͛̏̏̃̅͝h̵̻̉a̸̺͆t̶̬̿'̴̡́s̴̱͛ ̵̮̅ẃ̸̨r̴͔̐ō̷̖n̷̠͝g̵̦̑,̷̼̔ ̷̳̿f̷̰̽u̷͔̿n̶̝̿n̷̠͒y̷̺͂ ̸̲͋b̴̟͆ǘ̷͇n̵̺͝ṅ̸̪y̴͓̒?̴̡͝ [1]

Ä̵͉́r̵̼͑e̶̟͐ ̸͉̓t̵͉͊h̴̜̓ë̶͎́y̷̞͊ ̷͎̒b̶̯̊ẻ̷̟į̶͑ǹ̶̜g̸̤̎ ̵̯̿m̸̝͝è̴͚ȃ̴̠n̶̳̂ ̴͚͒t̴͉̚o̷͉̽ ̶͎̔y̴͓̕o̸͇͌u̶̼̔?̸̻̈

Ș̵̢̡͉̘̊̆̈̎͆ḩ̵̓o̵͎̍w̸̨͒ ̵̮̽t̶͔͋h̵͉̆e̷̪̓m̴̙͊ ̴̻͝w̶̖̚h̴̯̕a̶̰̒t̵̝̂ ̵̼͑h̷̨̒a̴̩͘p̷͚̀p̷̥͌e̴̡͐ṅ̸̺s̴̛ͅ ̶͖̈́w̸͕̔h̸̛̜e̴̤͋n̶̠͒ ̵͖̋ţ̷̀h̶̞̓e̴̼̎ỳ̸̡ ̴͉̓ḏ̷͂o̶̫̚n̴̻͛'̶̤̓t̶͍̄ ̶̫̄p̷̥͐l̵͈͌a̶͈͌y̵̪͌ ̴͕̇n̶̯̓ỉ̵̲c̴̯̓ė̷ͅ.̸̣̊.̶̼̉.̵̨̇ ̵͖̓

The playful voice inside the guard’s mind tried to soothe her, pain increasing the longer she denied it.

“N-No, I... I don't... What...?” Vanessa was mumbling to herself, a nonsensical string of words for the nonsensical voice. The ache was so intense all she wanted to do was curl up on the floor and sleep for days. She resisted as long as she could… but as was the case nowadays, that wasn't more than a few seconds.

“Oh?” All of a sudden Vanessa perked up, releasing her head to stare at the little group in the office. An eerie smile stretched her mouth wide, and her gaze was somehow both vacant yet very sharp. She glanced down at her body, tugging at the crisp, white uniform shirt.

“Oh no, no, this won't do; these clothes are so stiff! She keeps misplacing that thing...” She let out a dramatic sigh, shaking her head for a moment before abruptly snapping her gaze to Freddy's. “I'll be riiiiight back~ But while I'm gone, you can play with a friend!”

Without warning she whipped around to dash away through the arcade, her goal known only to herself. For just a second, it seemed like Freddy and his friends' prayers had been answered. That is, until they heard Vanessa shout at the top of her lungs:

“Oh Roooooxyyyyyyy~ Gregory's in the security office, and the power's out! Better go find him before Monty does—you want to make sure you're the best, don't you?”

The mumbling had only raised more questions at Vanessa's strange behavior. But when her whole demeanor changed from agonizing in pain to practically frolicking away to alert the others, Charlie recognized what was happening. Scampering towards Freddy, she raised Gregory up to the bear.

“Put him inside your chest, now!” she begged. “It's her! I recognize the voice now—it's the bunny lady!”

The sound of stampeding, metal feet began to tear straight for them.

“What?!” An incredulous tone could be heard, Roxy flabbergasted that Vanessa would even imply that Monty was better than her. She was the best. An obvious fan favorite! 

And she was going to make sure the others knew it. She barreled for the office, feral and growling even as she skidded and slid painfully into the walls.

“Gregory!” Roxy snarled, “Get over here, you snot-nosed punk!”

Freddy knew there was no time for questions, and Michael realized the same. The ghost resisted the urge to argue with Charlie’s instructions, sucking up his personal correlation with shoving a kid into an animatronic’s chest cavity to let the bear do what he needed to. Freddy was safe, and that meant Gregory would be safe, too. Without hesitation Freddy helped Gregory scramble into his surprise compartment, closing the hatch just in time for Roxy to slam into the wall outside the open doorway.

“Roxanne!” Freddy exclaimed, eyes wide at the sight of her in person. Along with the dirt she had a plethora of tiny dents and scratches, presumably from running into things during her frantic search. “What happened to you?!”

“Not the time, Freddy!” Michael reminded with an edge of panic to his voice. “Get Gregory out of here before she figures out where you hid him!”

Freddy stared at Roxy for a moment longer, his face twisted in an expression of genuine hurt and confusion. He hated to see his friends like this—it scared him. Until tonight, Freddy thought it was impossible for him to feel such things as fear…

But that existential crisis was for another time. Michael was right: they had a mission.

Slowly, Freddy began shifting around the wolf, trying not to make any sudden moves that would startle her or give any indication that the child was nearby. Roxy huffed, a simulated sniffing coming from her nose as she glanced around the room in a jittery nature.

“He was here! I just heard him…,” she said, pushing past the Puppet as she inspected the room, practically ignoring Freddy until all hope of finding Gregory had been lost to her.

“Freddy... Buddy, amigo...” She looked to the bear, clasping her paws together as she approached. “You've seen the kid, right? You have to by now. C'mon, help a girl out...”

Charlie already stood in the doorway, making sure the coast was all clear as she motioned just outside Roxanne's line of sight for Freddy to follow her. The wolf’s unsettling appearance, both out of character and alarming, became more apparent the closer she drew.

“Ditch the creepy Puppet! Come hang out with me and help me find that brat!” Roxy begged, yellow eyes desperate for help.

“I... I cannot do that, Roxy,” Freddy replied with a shake of his head. He’d been inching away successfully until the wolf stepped up to him—now she was a bit too close for comfort. Freddy knew she was much faster than him, especially in this virus-induced state, and the last thing he wanted was for her to somehow finagle his stomach hatch open in a frenzy. He just needed to move her a bit and then he could make a break for it.

“You likely will not accept this, but there is something wrong with you,” Freddy continued, gently putting his hands on the wolf’s shoulders. As he spoke he shifted her sideways, ever-so-slowly moving her out of his path. “Something is wrong with all of you—Monty, Chica, even Moon and Officer Vanessa. I am trying to figure it out and return you all to normal, and it would be a great help to me if you would stop trying to pursue the child.”

Freddy’s grip tightened on Roxy’s shoulders. He moved her a little more forcefully, tapping into his animatronic strength just enough to match her resistance. Just a few inches more, and the path would be free.

Roxy's expression turned from one of mild annoyance to complete offense. Her eye's flicked over Freddy's face as if looking for a sign that he was joking.

“What?! There’s nothing wrong with me! I-I'm... I-I—” She stuttered, not for lack of anything to defend herself with verbally, but literally shorting out as she was made to think about her and the rest of the Glamrocks’ actions.

She resisted Freddy’s shifting, trying to push back. But as she glitched, her strength faltered. She was pushed into the desk, a few loose bolts clattering as they toppled to the ground. Before she could explain herself, Freddy and the Puppet were already speeding away.

“W-Wait! Freddy, I'm sorry!” Roxy attempted to call after them. With the child momentarily out of sight and mind, she was granted a minute of lucidity and couldn’t help but feel disgust.

But this quickly faded, as everything did thanks to the malware infecting her very core.

She listened to the voice inside her head that told her to get the child. Her goal was to bring him to the basement without maiming him too much. The rest of the plan was so genius Roxy couldn't even comprehend why they were doing it in the first place.

***

Freddy gritted his teeth as he ran, trying to forget that look in Roxy’s eyes. For just a moment she’d been herself again, trying to break through whatever was controlling her. Her apology echoed heavily in Freddy’s mind, and he suddenly had the strange urge to yell out in frustration. He resisted of course, not wanting to alert anyone to their position more than his heavy footsteps already would. Instead he pressed on, thinking of the best path to their next destination.

“The stage!” Freddy exclaimed, falling into step with Charlie. “It will take us directly to Parts & Service. But we need to activate the sound booth first—hopefully there is a showtime disk already in place, but if not we will have to locate one.”

“How hard could that be?” Gregory asked, relieved when he heard a plan coming from the outside of his little enclosure.

Freddy then took the lead, guiding Charlie back through the arcade and El Chips. Soon enough they’d re-emerged in the main atrium and made a beeline for the sound booth. Thankfully it was also on the third floor, not far from their current position.

“Is a showtime disk like a record?” Charlie felt the need to ask, her voice not above a whisper as they curtailed themselves into the booth. Overlooking the stage and all that sat before the concert area, they sat relatively in the open. With the strange sounds emanating from the third floor backrooms, Puppet wanted to get the show started and leave as soon as possible.

“Yes, it is a CD—like a smaller version of a record,” Freddy explained as he rapidly scanned the area. To his great frustration, there was no such item anywhere in sight. “It is not here—we must take the long way around, back through Rockstar Row. Follow me.”

Not wanting to waste time Freddy urged the Puppet to trail after him, adding in a hushed voice as they moved: “We can use Roxy’s service elevator for the time being, although once we return from Parts & Service we can rest in the security office near Rockstar Row—it is accessible with our new clearance level. From my recollection the showtime disks are often stored there as well, so hopefully we can pick one up in case we need to activate the stage lift later.”

Freddy was hesitant to jinx anything, but in a way it seemed like things might be turning in their favor, if only for a moment. Hopefully Charlie was onto something with regards to Michael’s predicament, and this task wouldn’t be fruitless. Although even if it was, at least it would keep Gregory moving. Freddy dreaded the thought of getting cornered again. If Roxy was already this bad, he didn’t want to know what the others were like.

Having watched the head of security change right before their eyes into someone so completely different than before only told Puppet one thing: this virus didn’t just affect robots. It’d been spreading through people as well.

It just went to show how they needed to work together to keep Gregory separated from whatever the hell was going on around the Pizzaplex. This virus, whatever it was, must have something to do with William's return. Should they make it to Parts & Service in one piece, Michael's experience with dealing in his father's villainy would help them immeasurably.

Again they moved, all too scared for now to let Gregory leave Freddy's chest. It would be bad enough if the robots were seen out and about—though to their benefit Freddy's bandmates only seemed interested in human blood and flesh, not metal and oil.

With Rockstar Row in sight and all its residents currently looking high and low in more complex places for their little gang, they snuck in undetected. Through Roxy's more inexplicably damaged backstage room they crept, right as Gregory broke the silence.

“Freddy? Is it safe to come out yet? My legs are cramping!”

Don't think about the meat pretzel..., Gregory mentally noted as a means of staying calm in the tight closed in space for so long.

Freddy winced as a barrage of images suddenly flashed through his mind in response to Gregory's innocent comment. Most flew by too fast to catch, but three kept repeating themselves over and over again:

A smiling little girl with long, red hair, green eyes, and a red bow in her hair...

A clown-themed animatronic Freddy recognized a Circus Baby...

The same animatronic standing exactly as before, though there was a distinct trail of dark, red liquid leaking from her chest cavity.

“Michael, stop!” Freddy exclaimed, jerking his head in an effort to quell the ghost's memories. Whatever those images represented were so painful even Freddy was starting to feel an ache deep in his core.

“O-Oh god, I'm sorry, I-I didn't mean to—is Gregory okay?! I don't like the thought of him being uncomfortable in there w-with... with the cramps, and all,” Michael managed to say, reigning in his wayward thoughts. Clearly this wasn't the only issue at hand, but he didn't want to freak Freddy out and somehow cause exactly what he was afraid of happening.

“Yes, he is fine—Gregory, please come out.” Freddy heaved a sigh of relief as they entered Roxy's service elevator and closed the door. He opened his chest cavity and freed the kid while checking his power meter. “I must charge before we progress—there is a station just outside the main area of Parts & Service. We can stop there before going to the warehouse.”

Helping Gregory down from his spot inside of Freddy's torso, Charlie suggested he sit and stretch his legs before they left the lift. Safe Mode may not be the best way for Freddy to be traveling throughout the night in regards to the draining battery power, but it also still might be one of the only things keeping him safe from the virus spreading around.

“Don't worry you guys,” Charlie tried to comfort. “Gregory's a tough kid, right?”

Gregory plopped to the ground, stretching out his legs and reaching halfheartedly towards his toes.

“More like a kid who's about to have a charley-horse...,” he griped in reply.

He was still having a tough time moving past Vanessa's odd behavior from earlier. He knew she was weird, but that smile... It didn't even look like it belonged to her. It was uncanny—as if someone had copied an eerie grin and pasted it over Vanessa's mouth. Not to mention her words, and the way she said them.

It’d begun to hit Gregory too that something was controlling the minds of people along with the animatronics. That wasn't something he could fathom—the idea of losing his mind inside this nightmare was already becoming too real for him to feel comfortable.

Eventually the lift brought them to the hallway leading towards Parts & Service. If one were to peer into the actual workshop and the safety cylinder, the Map Bot Gregory attempted to reprogram was notably gone...

“The entrance to the warehouse is just around the corner from the charging station,” Freddy informed the group as he led the way out of the elevator. He frowned slightly upon seeing the empty cylinder, wondering who exactly moved the defunct robot. “However, I suggest that you—”

“Ehehehe...” A distinct cackle filled the air, and Freddy whipped his head to find a glowing set of red eyes peering out from a dark corner. Moon crouched low to the ground, swaying slightly as he slowly reached one hand up towards a nearby light switch. Before anyone had time to react, the room was plunged into almost complete darkness. “Nighty-niiiiight~”

“Go!” Freddy exclaimed, thankful that Charlie had already scooped Gregory up at the first sign of danger. As the others moved towards safety, Freddy hung back to distract Moon. However, when he turned back the Daycare attendant was already gone from the corner.

“Why the fuck can he crawl on the CEILING?!” Michael screeched as Freddy's eyes roamed up to find Moon literally scuttling upside-down over their heads like some sort of weird, lanky bug.

The bear simply shook his head at Michael's comment, calling out to the Daycare attendant in an attempt to distract him: “Moon! I... I know where to find another child! Come down here and let me tell you!”

Charlie hand to clamp her wiry hand over Gregory's mouth. The last time she tangled with Moon, she ended up in an unconscious heap on the ground with no way to protect anyone. Vanessa had followed them before, and if last time was forewarning then maybe she wasn't far behind.

As they rushed to tuck themselves safely in the recharge station, Charlie and Gregory could only watch in horror at the way Moon moved, lurching and crawling like something from a horror film. If he was made like this, how could any kid sleep with him around?

“Oh, Freddy, Freddy...” Moon paused to stare down at the bear, his static grin impossibly wider than usual. “Don't you know it's naughty to lie? And naughty ones must be punished...”

“What the hell is he—oh no, Freddy, MOVE!” Michael yelled as Moon suddenly released his grip on the ceiling. The animatronic dropped, twisting his body like a cat to land on top of the cylinder with eyes locked on to the bear.

Freddy, however, was starting to struggle.

“I am almost out of battery power,” he murmured as the LOW POWER alert flashed red and ominous across his vision. Apparently, carrying Gregory inside his chest cavity drained him more than he'd initially thought. He spared a glance to the charging pod, then back to Moon. Thankfully, the Daycare attendant didn't seem interested in Gregory at that moment—he was solely focused on Freddy. “Michael... I think he wants me. For what, I do not know, but... are you able to get out?”

"What?! Freddy, I'm not just gonna bail—”

“GET OUT!” Freddy shouted, stumbling backwards as Moon slunk closer. His vision was fading fast, and he knew it was only a matter of seconds before he shut down. As darkness closed in around him, the bear intoned in a sluggish whisper: “Please... You have to... help them... please...”

And then Freddy collapsed in a heap, Moon cackling all the while.

With both fists, Gregory hit the inside of the charging pod in an attempt to open it. He was quickly snatched backwards by Charlie, and they could only listen helplessly as Moon encroached upon Freddy. Charlie had to remind herself that, even if he got out of this in one piece, until the bear was recharged and with Michael attached to him, she'd be the only one to watch Gregory.

Trembling and forced to be silent inside Puppet's arms, Gregory strained to get out and help. Rationally though, he knew there was nothing he could do—and Moon may just in fact tear his new best friend apart.

[1] What’s wrong, funny bunny?

Are they being mean to you?

Show them what happens when they don’t play nice…

Chapter Text

When you've gates stormed by gators and wolves at the door
When the power is down, you can't bear any more
When the Sun's gone away, but the Moon's come to play
A more punishing game 'til the break of the dawn
Oh, the fun that's in store!

You wanna pizza the action!

~A Pizza the Action by The Stupendium~

At first, Michael was pulled into the darkness right along with Freddy. Surrounded by inky black, the ghost struggled against invisible bonds—his unintentional attachment to the animatronic had already begun to set in. However, without Charlie’s Gift this wasn't nearly strong enough to keep the vengeful ghost down. Michael imagined what it would be like to leave this mechanical body, to detach his spirit and roam free in the world—

And to his utmost surprise, it actually worked.

Suddenly, Michael was no longer staring through an animatronic's eyes—he was looking down at Freddy from a position just above the bear's head. Moon was currently dragging Freddy by his feet towards the service chair, metal scraping against metal causing the ghost to wince.

Wait... he could wince!

Steeling his nerve Mike looked down at himself, ready to see the rotted corpse he'd been barely hanging onto for the past few decades. But, amazingly, fate was sort of still working in his favor at the moment. His body was back to what it was like the moment he'd been scooped—relatively normal, save for the gore-splattered midsection that Michael really couldn't focus on lest he lose the small amount of sanity he still had in tact. He squeezed his eyes shut tight.

The horrendous sight wasn't that much of a shock. Mike knew part of the deal with being a ghost meant getting preserved at the moment of one's demise. That was the default, and it took some effort to look "normal." He wasn't purple, which was already a big step up in his book. Lifting a pale hand, he felt short, wavy brown bangs that fell just above his brow line. No more crappy wigs, either...

Michael didn't have time to waste dwelling on his appearance—not with Moon so close by, and Freddy in a precarious position. With concentrated focus, he willed his ethereal skin and clothing to stitch itself back together. When he finally opened his eyes again, he was pleased to see that everything now seemed intact.

...Well, sort of. He was a bit see-through, but otherwise had full autonomy once again, and the fabric of his uniform shirt was crisp and put-together.

As the Daycare attendant tried to pull Freddy onto the chair, Michael rushed to the charging pod around the corner. He is attempts to touch it only caused his torso to phase through, so he settled on waving frantically, calling out to his friends in a whisper: “Hey! Can you see me?!”

Charlie jumped slightly, not expecting Mike's youthful face to pop into their tiny little cell. When she had the sense knocked back into her from the bump to the back of her metal skull, she scolded him out of habit.

“Michael! You scared me—” Then she let out a sharp gasp of realization. “You’re out of Freddy?! Wait, that's perfect!”

She looked up to her old ghost friend, unaware of the fear in Gregory's eyes as he too stared at this random person with their body half-through a metal door. Of course the poor kid wasn't able to scream with Puppet's hands still covering his mouth, so how could Charlie know of his increased distress?

“You're no good to us without a body, though. Can you see any unused models in the warehouse?” Charlie suggested, trying vainly to look around Mike through the porthole just in case she could get a glimpse of what was happening outside.

“I am still good without a body,” Michael grumbled automatically, falling back into the old way he interacted with his dearest friend like no time had passed. Quickly though, he brought himself back to the present with a shake of his head. “But let me check. Just—stay here, alright?”

He rushed off at quite a speed, only managing to force his body to slow down after he'd phased through three walls. The building itself was one thing, but he didn't know what would happen if he accidentally touched another animatronic, since the last time he tried he'd gotten stuck in Freddy. He began searching around, grimacing at all the endoskeletons that lined the walls and seemed to follow him with red, glowing eyes. For a while, that seemed to be the only “unused model” Michael could find—a generic endoskeleton without a suit or personality. Although, he supposed it was his job to fill in that disposition soon...

Mike was about to accept his fate of being a suit-less endo when he spotted a nearly-hidden door. He peered through cautiously, and at the far end of a thin hallway spotted something colorful propped up against the wall. Michael gasped as he moved closer and registered exactly what he was looking at, then quickly rushed back to the charging pod with a grin on his face despite the terrifying situation.

“I think I found one that might work!” he exclaimed in a hushed whisper. “I'm guessing you need to come with me to do whatever it is you do, Charlie? I'll keep watch while you guys move and let you know if anything's coming.”

“Yup; thanks, Mike!” Puppet replied, happily opening up the chamber and uncovering Gregory's mouth to properly lift him into her arms. As she held him up, it was clear now that Gregory had been petrified the whole entire time Michael was gone, too.

Today he learned that he could see ghosts and Gregory honestly wished he could go his whole life without knowing that fact. Yet here they were. Worse yet, Michael's appearance was so... normal. He looked like any twenty-something dude Gregory could’ve met on the street.

How did he know that no one else he'd ever seen weren’t ghosts as well?!

There was no time to dwell on it as Charlie followed the floating spirit away from Moon's prying eyes. Propped in an upright position in the hidden room sat a freshly completed, wholly refurbished Foxy the Pirate Fox. With a gold hook, long teal coat, and red mane similar to Roxy's, they had completely updated and retrofitted the swashbuckling pirate with a new look that was sure to appeal to the demographic at the Pizzaplex.

“Oh my god...,” Charlie began to snicker. “That's hilarious, Mike—you get to be Foxy.”

Just like he’d always wanted. When they were kids playing pretend, that Foxy mask never left Michael's head. It was precious in a way—and tragically ironic only when she remembered how their current situation was possible in the first place. Only through such an intense death could immortal life rise from its ashes.

The Puppet reached out for Michael's hand, the only being able to grasp what should've been pure air.

“Ready, Mikey?” she asked patiently, while Gregory watched on in morbid curiosity.

“Hold on.” Michael turned to the kid, feeling horrible for clearly scaring him so much. “So, um... obviously we don't have time to explain right now, but I promise I'll fill you in a little more on what's really going on when we're safe and sound in that security office, okay?”

His expression was the epitome of a big brother trying his best to comfort a younger sibling after they'd witnessed something they really shouldn't have—a soft, reassuring smile and eyes full of compassion.

“All you need to know is that Charlie's going to help me get situated in that Foxy animatronic,” Michael continued, gesturing to said robot as he spoke. “It's just like how I was in Freddy, but I'll be the only one in control this time—no more fighting with an AI to talk to you guys. Plus, you'll have another animatronic on your side to kick some ass!”

He laughed, the sound hearty and also a bit delirious as the situation finally sunk in. He could never have known his fate would end up like this, but the irony wasn't lost on him either. Trying not to think about the last time he'd worn his trusty ol' Foxy mask, Michael finally took Puppet's hand.

“Okay; I'm ready. Work your magic, Charlie.”

Gregory silently listened to Michael's reassuring words. The boy couldn't respond for a moment, everything so completely overwhelming he felt like he was drowning. Those big brown eyes full of concern were a familiar sight as he watched Charlie guide Michael towards the suit.

“B-Be careful...,” Gregory stuttered as Charlie slowly lowered the ghost into the machine.

There was something about metal and human souls that stuck like magnets. The whole process looked painless enough, though there were obviously things at play that Gregory couldn't see...

Charlie was happy then, to finally give her best friend his Gift. She'd been waiting a long time to find a good character for him. What better than an old favorite?

As Foxy's system came on, a prompt to upload a personality disk was immediately closed out. Foxy's uncovered eye opened, a bright orange iris staring ahead as the bot finally came online after who knows how many months of development. Touching the animatronic’s fluffy mullet, Charlie knocked lightly against his head.

“Mike? Try sitting up,” she prompted as Gregory curiously moved in closer towards the new and exciting character.

It was... weird. That's the first word that came to Michael's mind as his soul attached itself to the fox. He could feel his essence knitting itself to the metal as Charlie guided him, sections of his being syncing to the animatronic until his ethereal heart finally found its way into its new mechanical one. Only once that final piece of his soul rested snugly in place was Michael able to open Foxy's eye and look out with his new, enhanced vision.

The vision itself was strange, too. Everything was crystal clear like Freddy's had been, but Michael swore he could see... things as well. Faint shapes moving around outlined in a ghostly hue, and if he didn't know any better he could swear he even saw the vague outline of Freddy himself through the walls.

Hmm... That was something to ask the bear later when they were able to get him back. Maybe there was something different about Foxy's eyes than the other animatronics'?

Michael suddenly registered that Charlie asked him to do something. His orange eye swiveled to her, grinning jaw snapping experimentally as he sat up straight. He stretched his arms out, flexing his paw and giving the hook a few practice swipes for good measure. Oh yeah—that could definitely do some damage if need be.

“Thanks, Charlie,” Michael said, his voice coming loud and clear through the fox's voice box, mouth syncing up perfectly with his words. It was a good thing Foxy hadn't been active; now he didn't have to contend with whatever rambunctious personality would've been installed in the pirate-themed animatronic.

Gregory stepped back, watching Michael swipe his hook experimentally before admiring its shining gleam. Charlie shifted in place beside him, clapping her hands together as she excitedly watched Michael use his Gift. It fit him, a man who'd grown up listening to rock in the 80's now inhabiting one of the many impressive Glamrock animatronics.

It was almost like this one was made for him. Charlie forced herself to believe that it was a coincidence—because what else could it be?

“So...” Gregory finally collected his words, though they wouldn’t come out as elegantly as he wanted. “You're a dead guy… Possessing a fox...” He pointed at Michael, then oscillated to point at the Puppet, almost accusingly. “And you, clearly another ghost, are putting people's ghosts into robots…?”

Before Charlie could even answer, it turned out Gregory hadn't been looking for any confirmation. He'd already gathered everything he needed to know for the time being. No matter what these strange beings were, they'd done nothing but try to keep him safe since he met them. Ghosts or rogue AI, they were all friends in Gregory's book.

Grasping onto the curve of Michael's hook in a futile attempt to pull him from the work table, he told the pair firmly: “I want to know everything later—seriously. But we need to go get Freddy and kick that Moon guy’s ass!”

“Agreed,” Michael replied with a nod, cautiously getting to his feet. Initially the peg-leg made him a bit off-balance, although he adjusted in a matter of seconds and held himself up straight. There really was quite a difference in being tied to an animatronic as opposed to hanging out inside one's head. Noticing that Gregory was still holding onto his hook, Michael flashed him a grin.

“Hold on tight for a sec,” he instructed, then carefully lifted the kid into the air with a hearty laugh, letting him dangle harmlessly a few inches off the floor. “Oh hell yes—I'm extra strong, now!”

Gregory wasn't the heaviest thing, sure, but if Mike were still human he knew he'd have definitely felt the boy's weight more—using the animatronic, it was like lifting a bag of feathers.

Gregory shrieked from the distracting joy this simple action brought. Holding on with both hands the boy swung his legs alternatively as if he was walking on air.

“Hell yeah!” he agreed, his tone immature but filled with undeniable spirit. While Freddy would always be Gregory's favorite character, it seemed he’d obtained a new favorite sidekick.

As Charlie palmed her face at the sheer ridiculousness of the two, she came up and poked Michael's peg leg. “Very spiffy, Mike.”

Michael simply grinned, soon lowering Gregory back onto the ground. He paced in a circle a few times, getting used to the movement of walking before looking at the other two with a resolute nod. “Alright, let's do this.”

His tone was confident, though inside his anxiety was starting to build again. He wished he had time to actually get used to this body before taking it out for a spin against Moon, of all animatronics... Hopefully they'd be able to just grab Freddy and get out.

Gregory, of course, was running headfirst into danger without much of a plan at the signal to go.

“I’ve got an idea; follow my lead!” he exclaimed, causing Charlie to gasp in worry as he darted off.

“GREGORY! Slow down! Damn it—”

Great, Puppet thought as she chased him down on spindly legs. Now the two of them were getting her to curse by exposure.

Soon Gregory was kicking open the door to the main upgrade room, flashlight in hand and aimed like a gun. He spied Moon moving Freddy from the cylinder, letting out a loud screech.

“Gregory!” Michael hissed, rushing after him as fast as he could. Two things he already knew about this new body: it was strong, but not fast. Honestly, if there wasn’t a terrifying nighttime-themed creature in the upgrade room, he’d be tempted to ask Charlie to switch out the peg-leg for a normal one.

But regarding more pressing matters: damn, that kid was spunky! Michael’s assumption had been spot-on. He knew Gregory was probably scared out of his mind, but he had to give him credit for his bravery.

“Hey! Let go of my friend you BUTT UGLY MOON!” the boy shouted, trying to get Moon’s attention to look directly into the light.

“Hello, Gregory… I see you’ve got a new friend, ehehehe…” Moon cackled, completely ignoring the insult and hiding behind the chair to avoid as much of the beam as possible. Gregory had effectively trapped him in place, but unfortunately Freddy had been dropped in the doorway of the cylinder, still close enough to Moon that trying to grab him risked an attack.

“Does this idea of yours have a part two, by any chance?!” Michael asked as he skidded to a stop next to Gregory, gripping the boy’s shoulder with a turquoise-clawed paw so he couldn’t run again.

“No, but he doesn’t need to know that,” Gregory whispered before realizing Charlie was gone from his sight. After nervously clearing his throat, he spoke to Moon again, determined to fake confidence until they made it out of this place.

“Yeah, I’m a pretty popular guy!” he remarked, focusing on steadying his light while still looking for Charlie. “I don’t know if you’ve heard of him, but this is Foxy the Pirate.”

Gregory wondered if something so freaky like Moon could be intimidated, especially when considering the virus’s influence.

“Look… we just want Freddy,” he continued, letting out an annoyed huff. “Like you guys even need him; he’s not even powered on…”

Charlie had snuck into the shadows of the room. She hoped to evade and sneak by Moon in an attempt to get the drop on him, and couldn’t help but be impressed by Gregory’s ability to distract the robot with nonsense. It certainly helped her get closer to their shared threat.

Moon simply tilted his head curiously at the Foxy animatronic. “Ohohoho, Foxy... you were decommissioned so long ago, weren't you...?”

“Well, I'm back, matey!” Michael replied with a shimmering smile, doing his best impression of what he recalled the original Foxy's voice sounding like. Maybe Moon would actually believe he was the pirate returned from the scrapyard, and that might help in some way. Did they have a good relationship? Or one at all?

He dared a step closer, noting how Moon stayed in place due to Gregory's light. Maybe if he could just get ahold of Freddy's hand, he could pull the bear into his arms and carry him out...

“Ehehehe... pirates are resilient ones, hmm?” Moon suddenly shifted, sensing what Michael was trying to do. Though his eyes remained static, Mike could definitely feel the intention of a glare from those glowing red dots. “We need Freddy a lot more, though... Well, we need him to stay out of the way, ehehehe...”

“Oh, let me help with that!” Michael exclaimed loudly, inching a smidge closer. “I'll take this scallywag off yer hands and make him walk the plank fer the rest of the night, argh!”

Gregory had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. Mike was so committed to the role, it was just as endearing as it was entertaining.

Charlie watched from the corner long enough. It made her sad to see that because of William, all of Freddy’s friends had turned on him. He’d officially become the enemy to them, and until they got rid of the virus' source, that wasn't going to change. She leapt forth, aiming to push Moon’s only defense aside in hopes he'd retreat to escape the light.

Her plan worked perfectly. The chair tilted forwards, allowing the full strength of the flashlight beam to strike Moon directly in the face. The animatronic shrieked in anguish, quickly crawling up to the top of the cylinder and alternating between glaring down at the group and rubbing his eyes with one hand.

“Keep that flashlight just below him so he can't come down!” Michael shouted, his usual accent returning as he rushed forward to hoist Freddy up. The bear was bulky, but the weight itself wasn't a problem as Mike situated him in what was essentially a piggyback ride. Once Freddy was settled as best as possible, he started for the elevator. “Gregory, shine that light on Moon as long as you can; Charlie, watch the kid!”

“Aye aye, Captain!” Charlie saluted as she rolled back to said kid. She’d been waiting for a good opportunity to say that since Michael’s integration. As she protectively stood behind Gregory, she picked him up to help adjust his aim.

“It’s nothing personal, Moon!” Gregory called, waving his hand in a friendly fashion. “You just really freak me out!”

While he backed away with Charlie, he cast a split-second glance over their shoulders with wide eyes. It was sort of amazing, seeing Michael able to piggyback what he assumed to be at least a half-ton of metal.

Mike snorted at Charlie's response—he bet she'd been saving that one. He rushed Freddy into the elevator, hook poised over the button so he could press it as soon as the others entered. “We're in—hurry!”

Moon growled in frustration, but the flashlight was just too powerful for his sensitive eyes. Still, the insistence in his head to—

G̸̦̓ẹ̵́t̴̹͗ ̸̧̉t̵̹͛ḧ̴̨́é̵̳ ̷̘̂c̶͉͠ḫ̸͝i̶̭̔l̵̢̏d̴̼̊;̷͇̈ ̵̰̈́c̷͍͝a̴̭͆p̵̕ͅt̶̼̄u̶͚̓r̵͓̄ė̴̻ ̴̫̓h̵͔͐i̴͇̕m̷͓͗ ̵͎̍ä̶̢́n̴̯̓d̵͍̽ ̸̨͋b̸̠̑r̶̕ͅỉ̷̙n̷͎͐ģ̶͋ ̶̩̀h̴͈͝ì̸̭m̵̙͝ ̶̣͂ẗ̴͓́ö̶̯ ̷͚͑ḿ̸̼ȇ̷̝!̸̱̎[1]

—was so great that Moon almost dropped from the ceiling regardless of the light.

Almost.

For now, he remained where he was, hoping he wasn't going to get in trouble for not following the rules this powerful voice in his head had set...

[1] Get the child; capture him and bring him to me!

Chapter Text

Be ready
Something terrible is coming
Tick, tick, tick, tick

Everything I work for and everything I do…
I do it for the thrill
I do it for the fun
You taught me there's a twisted usefulness in everyone

~For You by NightCove_thefox~

Charlie shuffled backwards as Gregory took his aim. When they were adjacent to the lift doors, it was the easier option to turn with Gregory in her arms and run. Thanks to the easy-paced elevator closing, they got the chance to watch as Moon recovered and attempted to catch them before the doors shut. Luckily, they were only left with frantic screeching and futile scratching at the metallic seams.

“That was a good plan!” Charlie praised when they finally began their ascent, giving Gregory a playful shove. The boy laughed and braced himself against the wall, recovering from the adrenaline rush.

“Yeah, great thinking, Gregory—you’re amazing!” Michael added, shifting the Glamrock on his back. He allowed himself one big, stress-relieving sigh before focusing on the next task. “Okay, so Freddy said we’re heading for the backstage security office in Rockstar Row. I think I remember seeing that door, so I can lead the way. Now as far as he goes—”

Michael jerked his chin towards the bear, fluffy mane flying every which way.

“—I guarantee these animatronics have a manual charging port, meaning that we should be able to plug Freddy into a power outlet instead of using a pod. We just need to find the right extension cord… there’s probably one in that storage area behind his room.”

That could be easily fixed. While Michael made sure Gregory and Freddy were comfy inside the bear’s room for a breather, Charlie could go search for that extension cord. And now that they were relatively safe inside the lift, Gregory could finally interrogate the ghosts freely.

“You used to work here or something, right?” he inferred. “I mean... How do you know all this junk about the robots?”

Charlie had been staring at Michael's new mane of hair, wondering how hard it could be to braid a mullet when Gregory's candid question popped her back to reality with a little jolt. The query interrupted Michael’s inner musing as well, Foxy’s orange eyes shifting from Gregory to Charlie and back again. They had to tell him something, though Mike still wanted to spare some of the darkest details. Gregory was tough, but he was only just a kid.

“That’s right,” Michael confirmed. “I… basically grew up in Fazbear restaurants, and when I was old enough I worked in them, too—for an actual paycheck, I mean.” He let out a huff at the memories of his father sometimes working him to the bone while he was growing up (at least by kid standards). Though his first paycheck was nothing to cheer about, at least it had been some compensation…

To quote William Afton in regarding child labor laws: “If you're old enough to throw parties and hold a pry bar, you can help your father remove Bonnie's face.” As soon as Mike had shown interest in the animatronics, the Afton patriarch began eagerly passing down useful information. In retrospect, it was one of the only things he'd done to really prepare Michael for his future.

“I’ve tried out pretty much any job you can think of,” Mike continued, adjusting Freddy again. He wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was hard to hold onto the sleek metal. There was the faintest smile in his voice as he added softly: “Though I like to think my specialties lie in technician work and night guard duty.”

Gregory looked impressed. Considering the animatronics were proven to be dangerous to work on, the boy wouldn’t hesitate to say Michael was brave in life. Maybe a little crazy, too—you probably have to be to willingly stick your hand inside the mechanisms of a Fazbear's robot.

Noticing the odd way Mike was holding Freddy, Charlie grasped and pushed up on their unconscious friend's legs to relieve some of the weight and make him less cumbersome.

“I like to remember you for the reason they put on your pink slip that one time,” Charlie snickered. There’d been quite a few reasons they used to can Michael—under various aliases, of course—but “Odor” had made Charlie bust out with laughter when she’d seen it for the first time all those years ago.

“Oh, leave me alone—you try being a human stuck in a tiny space with no air-con and huge robots that can potentially snap at any second…” Michael grumbled, though he nodded his thanks to Charlie for the physical assist.

“Anyway,” he continued, looking to Gregory again. “Needless to say, I know my way around these animatronics for the most part. I’ve been… sleeping for a few years while this Pizzaplex was created, I guess, so that’s why I’m not as familiar with the finer details of the Glamrocks or the building in general. But the robots are still the same mechanically at their core, so I’ve got an idea of how they work. Their AIs are super unique compared to everything else I’ve seen, though; what I wouldn’t give to check out that freaky Daycare attendant if he wasn’t going absolutely nuts…”

Michael’s mind raced with excitement at the thought. His prowess with animatronic technology was a double-edged sword: he had extremely mixed feelings of association with the machines, especially in recent years when forced to deal with their inner workings… but he was damn good at it, too. There was a reason Fazbear Entertainment kept hiring him back—well, besides their desperation for employees and Michael’s frequent name changes.

Gregory had a fair interest in computers, and the Glamrocks’ AI had fascinated him as well from the first time he'd spoken to one of the robots. He might not be the best at coding yet, but his rudimentary understanding of it all kept him coming back to this place every single time he got the chance.

“That guy’s unique, for sure,” Gregory agreed in response to Michael’s musings. As the lift doors opened, he glanced around cautiously to make sure there were no robot wolves prowling their rooms. When everything seemed clear, Greg stepped out and made way for the two carrying Freddy. “In the light he turns into Sun, who’s super friendly. Bet if he was that Sun guy again, he'd totally let you pick him apart.”

“You think so?!” Mike asked in a hushed whisper, then fell silent as they made the thankfully short trek to Freddy’s room. Once inside he deposited the bear on the couch, adjusting him into an upright position as best he could. The curtains were still shut from earlier, so at least no one could catch sight of Gregory while they were in here.

“Hmm… yup, just like I thought,” Michael announced as he located the charging port in Freddy’s side. It was hidden well, the little circular hatch almost perfectly flush with Freddy’s outer casing. A gentle press caused the hatch to pop open, revealing an outlet. “Charlie, can you run in the back and grab any cords that might fit? We’re looking for a hefty one with a three-pronged plug on each end. Gregory, you can stay with me while she searches, okay?”

Charlie was quick to slither out and into the back supply area. The shelving units in the dark backroom were fairly disorganized, so it’d take some time as she sorted through everything. She even found and old Bonnie magnet before locating a box with heavy duty extension cords to use.

Inside the room, Gregory put his hands on his knees as he leaned in to inspect the immobile Freddy.

“Any idea what battery percentage these guys power back on?” Gregory wondered. If he squinted at this angle, he could see scratches from Moon's long fingers as he hefted Freddy around.

“Normally they can be on standby with about 10% power, but for them to actually be interactive they’d need at least 25%,” Michael explained, noting Gregory’s interest with an unexpected sort of pride. Despite their rocky start, it seemed like the two of them were going to get along just fine. Then Mike shook his head lightly, lifting up Foxy’s eyepatch with his hook to reveal that he did in fact have two working eyes, which he used to look over the bear more intently.

“But Freddy said he’s in ‘Safe Mode,’ right?” It wasn't so much a question as the old mechanic talking through his thoughts aloud. “I’m not entirely sure what that entails, to be honest—none of the older models had a Safe Mode, at least not at any of the restaurants I worked at. He might take a little longer to boot up.”

Michael knew there were other Fazbear brand establishments hat he hadn’t set foot in, created by his Uncle Henry when he and William split ways. However, Mike had been so focused on tracking William and his legacy down he hadn’t given the other pizzerias more than a passing thought over the years. Who’s to say Henry hadn’t created robots with extra safety features?

Come to think of it… who was running this establishment, anyway? Had Henry escaped the fire, too? That is, if his soul still lingered on with the rest of them.

Hmm. A topic to dwell on later, preferably with Charlie.

And speaking of the old ghost, she emerged from the back room victoriously holding a charging cord in her lanky hands. While she and Michael worked to get the bear set up, Gregory reached forward and manually opened Freddy’s eyelid. It was only a little metal piece, likely connected to some tension rod that simulated blinking. It easily moved and Gregory was able to see a soft blue glow after Charlie plugged him in.

“Safe Mode is usually what you boot a computer up on to keep malware off your operating system,” Gregory responded to Michael, a little delayed but correct nonetheless. The extra protection was likely contributing highly to Freddy’s battery drain, which was an issue. Though if there was a virus going around…

Gregory’s head snapped to both Charlie and Michael, asking them: “…You don’t think someone knew this was going to happen ahead of time, right?”

Charlie and Michael shared a look, then Michael stood up to Foxy’s full height and rolled his shoulders back with a sigh.

“Unfortunately, that’s a question I can’t answer,” he replied. He was good with mechanics, but he needed some time to understand the software programs themselves. “All I know is Freddy saw something when he was on stage earlier that made him malfunction—I don’t know what it was exactly, but I woke up right afterwards while the techs were checking him out. Once they left Freddy on sleep mode so his system could run updates I was able to hijack his body, find Charlie, and the rest is history. By the time Freddy woke up and took back control, Safe Mode was already on.”

Michael looked to Charlie, cocking his head as he recalled a comment from earlier. “You mentioned a ‘bunny lady’—what are you talking about?” His frown increased. “You said it’s the night guard? I mean, she’s clearly messed up on the head, but I don’t see the rabbit connection besides—”

He cut himself off, eyes flickering between Charlie and Gregory. “…Never mind; let’s wait for Freddy to have that discussion. I think he needs to hear it, too.”

“It has to be. I can't describe the way her voice made me feel, but there was something about it that just screamed… him,” Charlie said, crossing her arms as she sat atop the rectangular vanity.

Vanessa was human—surely there was no way William’s influence somehow extended to her as well. But… her actions certainly pointed to this possibility.

Gregory took this as a polite way of asking for patience. He sat on the floor, taking respite in the gap between Freddy's legs. Watching Gregory sitting so peacefully on the ground near his new bear friend, an intrusive thought flashed through Charlie’s head.

“Gregory? Freddy's probably going to be a little tired when he wakes up. Why don't you go play on his arcade game?” she suggested, her reasoning not something she wanted to verbally acknowledge with the child.

The three of them had taken some time to fuse Michael in his new body. What if Moon used the moment to reset Freddy—turned off his Safe Mode and let the virus infect him, too?

Charlie didn't wish to worry anyone, letting herself carry the burden of such a heavy question as she always did. When Gregory shrugged and took her suggestion out of boredom, the Puppet kept her eyes glued to Freddy for any odd behavior.

Mike caught onto Charlie’s hesitancy, of course. At first he wasn’t sure what she was worried about, though as she watched the bear intently it dawned on him as well: they didn’t know what happened with Moon while they were away.

Freddy might not be Freddy, anymore.

As Michael moved into a slightly defensive stance, the bear’s eyes slowly blinked once, twice… Then he sat up with a jolt, nearly pulling out his charging cord as he looked around wildly.

“Gregory?!” he exclaimed, his voice frantic. “Where is—oh, thank goodness!” He pressed a paw over his mechanical heart upon catching sight of the boy playing with the arcade cabinet.

“Easy, big guy,” Michael soothed, not willing to relax just yet. That reaction certainly seemed to indicate Freddy was himself, and the fact that he hadn’t instantly tried to go after Gregory on sight was a good sign. But they couldn’t be sure he was safe just yet. “How do you feel? Are you still in Safe Mode?”

“Yes, I—Foxy?!” Freddy’s eyes widened as he took in his refurbished friend standing in front of him, perfectly functional as if no time had passed. “But… you were retired long ago—”

“It’s just Michael, actually,” the ghost corrected with a gentle pat to Freddy’s shoulder. “Sorry to disappoint. I’ll explain later—right now, we’re just trying to get you charged up enough to move to the next security office. We can talk more there.”

Charlie could relax. Freddy’s concern for Gregory had clocked as genuine in her eyes, so after hopping from his desk she told him earnestly: “It's good to see you're alright!”

Even if Freddy could be fixed later, Charlie would’ve felt awful if they failed to power him back on—or worse, infected him with god knows what sort of malware William and his lackey cooked up.

At the commotion, Gregory came over and hugged Freddy around the neck tightly, squishing his face into one of the bright red shoulder pads. He seemed happy the bear was sitting down, as clinging to Freddy's leg was beginning to make him feel a little short.

“Yeah! Taking care of Moon was fine; that guy keeps forgetting I have a flashlight,” Gregory scoffed, pretending as if the night-themed robot didn't make him have a full on panic attack at their first encounter.

“Thank you for the rescue, superstar,” Freddy replied with a smile, holding the boy close. He was used to clingy children, but when it came to Gregory the bear was just as guilty of wanting hugs. After a few more seconds of comfortingly tight squeezing, Freddy released him and smiled up at the group. “I do not detect any systems out of order, and my Safe Mode is still on. Once I reach 35% power in about 2 minutes and twenty-seven seconds, we can move to the security office and I will finish charging there.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Michael agreed with a nod, resting his paw on his hip. He moved to push some hair out of his one good eye—the eyepatch having flipped back down of its own accord—but only managed to snag a tangle on his hook. “Ugh, darn it—I appreciate the dedication to theming, but this thing is not very efficient…”

Charlie chuckled at Michael's tangled costume. Maybe it was all a matter of getting used to Foxy's more cumbersome design? Something told Charlie they were pretty lofty in their theming choices here at the Pizzaplex, and needed to cut back on a few things.

“Maybe lose the coat?” she suggested, pondering how they could maybe upgrade him later on. “The eyepatch isn't bolted to your head, right?”

“But then he's not a pirate!” Gregory would argue, a fan of Foxy's pirate aesthetic. He crossed his arms with a pout. “Then he's a one-armed, one-leg drummer.”

“What's wrong with that?” Charlie turned her static mask upon him, though it was clear she was raising an eyebrow internally. “Def Leppard had a one-armed drummer.”

“Maybe that's why they sucked, too...” Gregory chuckled, earning a gasp from Charlie.

“Language, Gregory,” Freddy chided automatically, though this was quickly overshadowed by Michael’s exclamation.

“Hey! I’ll let you get away with a lot, kid, but the will be no disrespecting 80s rock bands in my presence.” The fox’s eyes narrowed, staring Gregory down for a few seconds before Mike let out a laugh. “I’ve got to agree with you on the pirate look, though—I’d hate to lose any of it… But I might need to, at least for now.”

Michael took off his eyepatch and set it on Freddy’s vanity. He debated taking off the coat, too, but decided against it for the moment. He could deal with the clothes for a bit, if only for Gregory’s sake—at least he had full range of vision now, which was certainly useful in their current situation.

Gregory couldn't help it. He was a little troublemaker sometimes but never tried to cross boundaries. He would accept not making fun of any Glam rock/metal. Or just to be safe, he’d steer clear of poking fun at anything popular from the 80's—unless either Mike or Charlie made fun of them first, of course.

“Yeah, that still looks badas—cool. It still looks cool.” Gregory coughed, correcting himself from cursing again in front of Freddy.

“If we stop by one of the stores, we could find you a scrunchie,” Charlie pointed out, reaching up to run thin fingers through Foxy’s wild head of hair.

“Good plan,” Michael agreed, trying not to laugh at the chiding, parental glare Freddy was shooting Gregory at the near slip-up. He’d have to try and reign in his language now that the bear was awake, lest he face his wrath, too.

“I am charged enough to move to the security office,” Freddy announced, slowly getting to his feet. He unplugged the cord, then wrapped it up to fit inside his chest hatch before holding out his hand for Gregory to take. “Roxy will likely have a hair tie in her room—she does not wear them often, but I recall she keeps some in her vanity in case any children want to give her a makeover during Meet and Greets.”

Michael let out a snort at this. “Wow… I can’t imagine her letting anyone touch her hair, let alone kids.”

Though he had to concede, he hadn’t seen much of her true personality before the virus took over; there was probably a side to all the animatronics he didn’t know about. It was hard not to imagine Roxy as narcissistic, self-involved keyboard artist. Yet there was a time where the crew knew her more as the rough and tumble speed demon with a true heart of gold.

Sadly, that part of her was gone for now. It was hard to say if they’d ever see that side of Roxy again. Her central learning curve may be forever damaged from tonight, just like the rest of the Glamrocks.

Gregory got himself ready for the move, making sure his flashlight was within easy reach and holding the safety net that was Freddy's hand. Charlie was the first out the door, going back to her original job as lookout as she scanned the halls.

“Coast’s clear,” she murmured, encouraging them to come forth with a wave of her hand.

Now awake, Freddy was able to guide them to the door leading towards the backstage security office. Michael made a quick side-trek back to Roxy’s room and snatched up a few hair ties, then followed the rest of the group as Freddy used the new access card to unlock the door. After traveling up a set of metal stairs, they found the office in question.

“Whoa… this place is massive!” Michael commented, staring around the room in wonder as Freddy made sure the doors were locked—all four of them. This office was a far cry from the previous two, with a central hub full of monitors and additional desks on either side of the room for good measure. There were probably numerous screens, able to access cameras throughout the entire Pizzaplex. If there was ever a place to get a handle on where all their enemies were, this was definitely it.

“This office serves as a central hub; it is always manned during the dayshift, even if the others are not,” Freddy explained, sitting in a chair near one of the wall desks. He pulled the cord out of his chest cavity and plugged himself into an outlet, a faint blue glow lighting up his irises as the charge began again.

Gregory was content to stick besides Freddy, leaning against the wall as he watched the random feeds that surrounded them. The sight of Chica eating some garbage out of the kitchen stuck out, causing Gregory to feel sick. Where was all that garbage going to go? It’d just sit inside her casing and clog her endoskeleton…

“That virus is making Chica eat trash...,” Gregory remarked with equal parts sadness and disgust.

“Huh? I thought she always tried to do that,” Charlie remarked. “She's probably in heaven right now.” She patted the top of Gregory’s head in a soothing manner.

“Chica has a tendency to eat pizza, but not actual garbage…,” Freddy clarified absently, frowning as he watched his friend shove fistfuls of old food wrappers and plastic cutlery into her beak. He looked to Gregory, and upon seeing his expression automatically lifted the boy to set him on his lap, hugging a protective arm around his torso. “Here, superstar—you can see the monitors much better from this angle.”

While that was true, he also knew his presence comforted Gregory and wanted him to be as calm as possible before things heated up again. Though the boy had clearly been able to deal with Moon, Freddy didn’t believe his claim that it was “fine.” He recalled the look of abject terror on Gregory’s face when he’d been running around that Daycare, and couldn’t imagine the extra fear that came with one of his protectors being out of commission.

Gregory didn't complain, content to watch a different monitor in Freddy's lap. He relaxed against his metal guardian and folded his hands over the arm that held him in place. It was nice being around Freddy. He made Gregory feel seen—cared for, even.

Just like a dad would, Gregory assumed. If he ever got a real dad, the kid hoped he’d be like the sweet-tempered bear. The notion led Gregory down a road of thought he’d been trying to avoid.

Eventually, tonight would end. The lockdown would cease, and Gregory would be released from the hellhole that was the virus-ridden Pizzaplex. Gregory wondered if he’d even be allowed back after all of this...

A seed of doubt stuck itself in his head, burrowing fast and deep.

Leaving each other wasn’t an option anymore. Gregory would need to figure out a way to either take his friends with him, or a way to stay permanently.

While Gregory and Freddy got lost in their thoughts, Michael was currently typing away at one of the computers with his good hand. Charlie sidled up to him, a smirk in her voice as she asked: “Are you gonna geek out?”

“Too late—I’m fully geeked-out already,” he responded, grinning as widely as Foxy’s joints would allow while he analyzed the camera systems. If they could just stay here for the rest of the night, they’d be in the clear… though he knew something or someone would come and derail this plan eventually. For now, Mike allowed himself a few minutes of childlike wonder as he stared at the bright monitors.

Charlie laughed with her friend, clinging to the back of the office chair he'd managed to fit himself on. Marveling the sturdiness of the chair before directing her attention to the screen, she squinted at the corners of the monitor.

“Ah. Look at that—dead pixels...,” Charlie remarked, pointing out a cluster of black and purple spots on the camera's lens that glitched in and out of functionality.

“Huh… that’s odd." Michael pressed a few buttons in hopes of fixing the issue. Nothing worked though, and it almost seemed like the more effort he put in towards a resolution, the worse the pixels got. Eventually he gave up and sat back in the chair, ignoring the strained squeak it made under the shifting weight of his half-ton metallic body.

“At least you can see something,” he added, careful not to snag his hook on the long pirate coat as he crossed his arms in front of his chest. “One of the cameras was always out when I worked night guard shifts, no matter what restaurant I was in…” He shook his head at the memories, then leaned towards the monitor with a frown. “Where’s this feed from, anyway?”

Charlie wondered the same, curiously checking the side of the monitor for any indicator for the room it displayed. For the most part it was dark thanks to the main lights being off, although the shelving units indicated some form of storage room.

“Warehouse Cam 8...,” Puppet read aloud as she found the name. At the same instance, the corner of the screen began to pulse. Purple would invert to black, then back again as the pixels slowly spread.

Revealing itself in due time, a green splotch appeared in the corner the dead squares began on. To Michael and Charlie’s horror, that green splotch morphed into a small bunny logo. It jittered in place, as if it struggled to stay there to begin with.

“That… doesn't look good...,” Charlie said in a shaky tone, attempting not to lose her cool despite the fact William was currently laughing in their faces.

Michael’s reaction was instantaneous. He lurched forward, slamming his hook and paw on the desk and causing two sizable dents where they landed. Though his form was different, inexplicably digital and glitching, there was no question about who that little rabbit was meant to be.

“Father…” Michael hissed, sharp teeth clenched so hard it was a wonder he didn’t snap a few of them with brute strength. He knew William was behind all this, he just hadn’t expected to encounter an echo of the man so soon. Especially one so clearly mocking them.

His gaze remained fixed to the monitor, resisting the urge to smash the glitching corner to smithereens as he muttered to Charlie: “He knows we’re here.”

Freddy’s arm tightened around Gregory’s waist as he watched the fox. He wasn’t worried about Michael harming anyone in the room, but that reaction to a simple little glitch was so visceral… It begged a lot of questions, but Freddy didn’t feel equipped to calm Mike down just yet—Charlie would be best at that. Only then could the bear lay into the pair and make them spill everything.

Charlie had finally pieced together what was going on. It was so stupid and obvious that it was genius. Somehow that seemed to always be William's calling card: repeated stupidity that no one could decipher.

Standing, Charlie touched her hand to the middle of Michael's back and rubbed over the soft coat he wore.

“He didn't make the virus,” Charlie whispered in shock. “He is the virus...”

That was when the console command opened completely unprompted. Against the black screen, a bright purple text began to type out in glitching font:

“Hello k̶͈͘i̷̘̽d̸̙̎s̸̡̾.” [1]

“G̴̪͝o̶̜̍o̴͉̽d̴͓͘ ̷̯͝j̶̮̓o̷̭͛b̶̭͂ ̶̥͝ on finding the main office. I was w̶̯̿o̴̡͒n̸̨̒d̸̛̫e̶̢͘r̵͙̕i̶̝͒ǹ̵̬g̵̮͝ when you were going to stop running around like chickens without heads.”

“L̷̏ͅȏ̶̤l̷̘͠,̸̩̀”

“What's wrong, Michael? Y̶̙͘ȍ̸̟u̶̫̐ ̶̲̔c̴̜͗a̶̭͛n̶̩̈'̶̬́ṫ̷͓ ̵͔̐r̵͌͜ẻ̸̹å̴̮l̴̥͆l̸̝̓y̶͋ͅ ̴̠͗b̶̤͝e̶̘͝ ̴͔̅t̸̻̊h̶̩̀ä̶̦ẗ̷̺ ̶̖̊ṵ̸̔p̸̃͜s̷̜̓e̷͈͛ț̷̃... Come find me in the warehouse if you need to talk, s̵̗͛p̴͓̆ó̶͕r̷̡̀t̸̺̀.”

Charlie hugged Michael as the text started to beat out on the screen—not only for his sake and the anger William wanted to draw from him, but for her own. The casual way he was speaking to them, as if he wasn't the cause of every terrible thing that’d happened made her feel like she was nothing. Just another child in an endless circle of violence...

Gregory squeezed Freddy, silently watching them from afar.

“Don’t call me that!” Michael spat, venom in every syllable. Whatever comfort Charlie’s touch initially provided was overridden by his father’s insensitive words. Everything was still too fresh, even after all these years—

William’s bait worked. The sharp hook scraped against the desk as Michael stood, but even the shriek of metal gouging metal wasn’t enough to drown out Michael’s shout. “Why aren’t you dead yet?! WHY?!”

Without waiting for an answer, he tapped into Foxy’s voice box to let out a very animalistic snarl. His vision was overcome with white-hot anger and he shoved Charlie off as he turned to march for one of the doors. “If that bastard wants to talk, I’m ready to talk!”

Charlie fell prone to the floor as Michael lost his cool. Luckily the soft padding and stuffed layer around her limbs and body kept minimal damage, but the action still shocked her. Of course William knew how to get underneath Mike's skin! The family had been close at some point, before everything fell apart.

Gregory was positively frightened by Michael in that moment, choosing to stay by Freddy as the bloodthirsty fox left to confront whatever the hell had been looking for them.

Charlie was hot on his tail, not only excited to see William finally get what was coming to him but to make sure her fiery-tempered companion wasn't going to do anything stupid. Clinging by his side, she cast one last glance towards their new friends as Michael slammed the door lock open.

“I'm sorry about this, Freddy! I don't think I can calm him down—” Charlie said as the fox stormed for the backrooms. When the door lowered again she called underneath the closing metal: “Make sure Gregory doesn't leave your sight! We’ll find you later!”

The door cut off any further explanation and Charlie whirled on her heel, bounding after Michael and trying to wave him down.

“Mike! Dude, slow your roll!” her chirpy voice attempted to calm. “—he's got to be tricking you! It can’t be that easy—”

“I don’t care!” Michael snapped, completely focused on his mission. He barreled forward down the staircase, then back through Rockstar Row and Roxy’s room for the billionth time to reach the service elevator.

His horrendous father had been right there through that whole situation with Freddy and Moon, practically within Michael’s reach in the nearby warehouses. Hell, he’d probably been listening in and laughing the entire time. This thought enraged the eldest Afton child even more.

His pace only slowed when he was forced to stop in the elevator as it took it’s painstakingly long descent to Parts & Service. Only then did Michael take an unneeded breath and look at the Puppet who’d slipped in beside him.

“…I’m sorry,” he mumbled, hanging his head. “I know I shouldn’t have reacted like that—you’re right, it probably is a trap… Not to mention I’m sure I scared the shit out of Gregory.” Saying the boy’s name aloud caused the determination in Michael’s eyes to harden. He reached for his dear friend, pulling her into a side hug. “But we have to get rid of him, Charlie—we have to keep trying. I’m not going to let Gregory or any other child suffer like we have again.”

“Then you have to let me help,” Charlie told him gently, squeezing her arms around his waist until she felt the tension in his metallic body ease. Even then, she refused to let go.

The suffering that William made them endure would no longer stand after tonight. Even if William came back a thousand times, they’d stand vigilant through it all. Michael had matured, taking on this responsibility for so long by himself. Charlie just wanted him to see that he no longer had to bear the weight of such a heavy burden alone.

Not anymore.

“Gregory will forgive you... And so do I.” Charlie’s spoke softly, a smile breaking through inside her voice. “You're angry—believe me, I get it. But you don't have to feel like that alone anymore.”

Charlie watched the digital display of the floor level tick down further and further. Resting her head on Michael’s padded shoulder she continued, trying to be meaningful and give him hope. Witnessing any friend of hers suffering dealt Charlie a great deal of heartache, even after all these years.

“I know we haven't been close since… Well. Since I died. But it looks like we're stuck together now, and if that means we're kicking your dad's ass for the rest of time… then I wouldn't want to do it alone.”

Michael was silent for a moment, letting Charlie wrap her comfort around him mentally and physically. He tried not to dwell on the past, to focus on the task here and now, but… his mind was pulled back through the years, past decades of possessed, angry animatronics to a time when they were all just kids.

He and Charlie were best friends, and she’d stuck with him no matter what. Even when his brother died—that horrible, horrible sight forever burned into Michael’s mind—Charlie was there for him. Sure she blamed him at first, and rightfully so. Honestly, Michael wouldn’t have been surprised if she never spoke to him again. But she did—despite it all, she’d reached out when he was hurting and was one of the only things that helped him start to move on.

And then, just when their friendship began to resemble what it used to be… she was taken away. With no warning or explanation Charlie was wrenched from Michael’s life, leaving him without his best friend. After that, everything else completely fell apart and somehow Mike convinced himself that he was to blame. The guilt of it all nearly killed him time and time again.

“I-I’m… I’m so sorry…” Michael finally said, and his voice was absolutely broken. Thankfully the animatronics weren’t able to cry, or he’d be sobbing. Instead he shifted to wrap his arms around Charlie’s thin body, squeezing as tight as he could without risking a tear in the soft stuffing. “God, I missed you, Charlie. I missed you so much.”

She could remember the ghost of his hugs. How his arms felt around her after they'd gone days without seeing each other during the hot, Utah summers. This embrace felt closer to home than anything she'd encountered in decades.

Michael reminded her of bad things, yes. His brother's passing and how hard she screamed that night, cursing the very foundation Freddy's was built on. But he reminded her of the best things about life, too.

The cool feeling on ice cream on a hot day…

Finding an extra prize ticket you forgot you even had…

Or watching concerts with your best friends and feeling sick from drinking punch...

Sure, when they were alive they’d hang out with his friends sometimes. But Michael was Charlie’s only true friend, besides her twin brother. The children she'd given Gifts to were either scared of her, or resented that she’d tethered them to their own personal hells when Charlie just thought she was doing them a favor by trying to give them a second chance at life.

She laid into Michael, content to hold him until she felt the residual anger from William's careless words evaporate.  

“I was waiting a long time for you, you know,” Charlie murmured, nuzzling into his shoulder. “And I missed you more than I could ever tell you.”

In that moment, Charlie felt something—something wonderful that she hadn't experienced in a while. To know she too was missed by someone even after all this time brought back the sensation of being alive again, and it felt glorious.

Michael gave a soft laugh, the force of it lightly shaking her. He was going to be okay. They were going to be okay. Charlie was here with him again, she forgave him, and that’s all that mattered in that moment.

“I’m sorry I took so long,” he responded, the hint of a smile in his voice. “Trust me, your company is infinitely preferable to anyone I’ve met over the years… Man, do I have some stories to tell you once this is all over.”

When the elevator finally slowed to a stop, Michael released his friend. As the doors opened, he grinned down at her and held up a paw for a high-five, just like they’d done thousands of times as kids. “Alright—ready to take this nasty old rabbit down once and for all?”

His ambition was contagious. Charlie pulled herself off to raise her arm, meeting his hand with a mute clap. She could imagine William now: a withered old skeleton hiding inside of a decrepit rabbit. Too frightened to face them as he truly was—a corpse masquerading as a child's entertainment mascot.

“We're going to make him wish he was never even born,” Charlie agreed, grasping Michael’s hand. Together, they would egress into the darkness in search of the rabbit pulling the strings around them.

***

The basement portion of the warehouse wasn't any scarier than the rest of the Pizzaplex—at least, not for Charlie and Michael. Dust and cobwebs filled unused storage spaces alongside ancient parts or filing cabinets. The further they went, the less used this spot seemed to be. And, weirdly, the more a feeling of familiarity crept up Charlie’s spine.

Then the posters started springing up. Small, nearly undetectable as they searched in the dark, though their presence began to grow as a floodlight passed a small landing of steps showed missing children's posters—stolen duplicates that lined the floors like litter for a rodent. Charlie grasped Michael's coat arm, holding him back a second as she pointed out the table that a handful of old S.T.A.F.F. bots sat petrified at.

Michael froze at the sight, jaw hanging open as if the articulating wires had snapped. There was no doubt about what these bots were supposed to represent, all dolled up in clothes and “makeup” to look like the perfect, happy family.

Well, they would if one of them wasn't missing a head.

“Oh, that sick, fucking bastard!” Michael growled after recovering from the initial shock. He managed to rein in his anger better than earlier, though he couldn't help brush Charlie off again to stomp over and decapitate the S.T.A.F.F. bot wearing a top hat with a swift, pointed swipe of his hook. Then he turned to the rest of the room, calling over the railing: “Did you see that, old man?! We're coming for you, and you're not getting away again!”

Michael knew he probably shouldn't goad his immortal father too much, but he was pissed. It was one thing for William to try and get into his head by recounting their own relationship, but when the topic of his siblings was brought up Michael couldn't help but lose his cool. There was simply too much crippling guilt that he hadn't been able to save either of them from their fates, and anger at his father's response—a fact which he'd learned about far too late, which only added to Mike's internalized culpability. By the time he figured out the horrible things William was doing behind closed, star-studded curtains, Charlie and a bunch of other innocent children were already dead.

Charlie was more than acutely aware of how terrible of a person William had become. This? Telling Michael to come down to the warehouse basement just to show him his messed up little diorama made her shake with anger. This was a new low.

What had been the point? Was he even down here?

When Charlie begun to worry that they had indeed fallen into a trap, a familiar chuckle echoed in the hall, bouncing in the dark. Puppet slunk to Michael’s side again as she inspected the table. Old newspaper clippings of past restaurant openings only showed that William was still living in the past, unwilling to let go of his mistakes.

“He's nearby; we should hurry!” Charlie encouraged, being so close to retribution she could taste it

“Let's go.” With a resolute nod, Michael took the lead and marched into the dim hallway. His senses were on high-alert, and as his gaze swiveled to and fro he saw it—the faint, purple outline of a figure with long rabbit ears. He stopped in his tracks, holding up an arm to make Charlie pause as well.

“Wait,” he whispered, squinting at the sight. The figure wasn't very clear, and it only took a second for Michael to realize why. He frowned deeply, leaning his head towards Charlie. “So, another thing to talk about later, but I think Foxy's eyes can see through walls—don't ask me how or why, but there's someone right there, in that room.” He pointed to a closed door, barely visible in the faint light. “I can only see an outline, though... But it's not my Father. I... I think it might be that bunny lady you were talking about earlier.”

As if sensing this discussion, the feminine shape suddenly waved a hand, and Michael's eyes widened at the movement. That wave... it was unmistakable. Even if this wasn't William himself, he was certainly in control. Michael's hand clenched into a fist.

“Well? I'm here! Come out so we can chat!” he called, slouching into a defensive stance with Charlie slightly behind him, instinctively wanting to protect her like he'd failed to do that night.

Charlie felt useless being guarded in such a way, though this set up would likely help them out in the long run. While Puppet’s body was soft and easily broken apart, her strength mirrored that of the Daycare attendant’s. And while Michael may not be able to move as fast yet on his peg leg, he could slice metal in twain with a single swipe from that supposedly “child-friendly” hook.

“Vanny,” spoke that familiar and dulcet tone, echoing through the halls and no longer reserved for Vanessa’s mind. “We've got guests, funny-bunny. Would you mind…?”

Charlie seethed at the cutesy nicknames William had given to the unfortunate night guard. Whatever he'd done to Vanessa’s head equally disgusted and angered Puppet to her very core.

“Of course~” Vanny replied with a giggle, and a few seconds later she slipped into the hallway to join Charlie and Michael. They watched as she closed the door reverently behind her, as if there was a sleeping child inside that she was afraid of waking.

“Vanny?” Michael echoed as she turned to them. The glowing red eyes of her mask were unnerving, to say the least—but this was definitely the night guard. “Holy shit, what did he do to you?!”

“Hmm?” Vanny clasped her hands behind her back, tilting her head so that her patchwork ears flopped lazily to the side. “What did your dad do, Michael?” She giggled again at this, sounding like a schoolgirl who just revealed someone's big secret. “Well... he woke me up, of course!”

“What the hell are you talking about?!” Michael narrowed his eyes. He knew William was in that room; it would be so easy to take Vanny out and get to him—she was just a human, after all.

But that was just it: she was human, and more importantly, she was alive. Maybe whatever William was doing to her was somehow reversible... and even if it wasn't, they needed to know how she came under his control. She might not be the only one he'd infected, and that thought was terrifying.

Unbeknownst to them, it was all to buy time. Of course the Afton patriarch didn't expect his son to willingly hurt another living soul. Not after the incident with his brother, no. Vanny was just going to perform for them while he got situated and ready for company!

“This isn’t you, Vanessa—he's not your friend!” Charlie insisted, trying to appeal to whatever bit of Vanessa was still left under that mask. “He's using you… He wants us to hurt you!”

Charlie attempted to bring her back to her senses with the threat of force, hoping that sheer self-preservation would snap her out of it. Although with the way she just stared, maybe Vanessa didn't have any self-preservation left.

“Oh Charlie, Charlie...” Vanny sighed, shaking her head dramatically. “You poor, lost soul—you just don't understand what we're trying to do here! He'd never hurt me—I'm his confidant! His right-hand gal!”

She pressed an oversized paw to her chest, puffing herself up proudly. That's all Vanny wanted to be, after all: useful to William in whatever way she could, to repay him for bringing this consciousness of hers to life.

“But you're not,” Michael argued. “He doesn't care about you. He doesn't care about anyone—trust me, I know.”

“Mikey, you silly thing!” Vanny laughed again, the sound eerie and hollow behind the mask. “Of course he cares about you! You're his oldest son! The heir to his legacy!” The mask was static, but they could feel her grin widening behind it all the same.

“Did you think that Foxy model you're sitting to snugly in was put there by coincidence?” She shook her head, wagging a paw-padded finger at the same time. “I'm going to tell you a secret: it was a present for you, Michael! He remembered your favorite after all these years, and I fixed Foxy up all nice and pretty for you at his request! Wasn't that sweet~?”

At the admission that William and Vanny had fixed up the Foxy unit, the Puppet shook her head. It didn't make sense! Why would William make his son stronger?

Unless Vanny had been telling the truth. Whatever the reason, it must be twisted in some way that suited William. There was no other explanation. The perfectly crafted fox had been tailored specifically with Michael in mind—the hair, the piercings, the whole pirate theme screamed for the once-troublesome Afton. William couldn't possibly be so dumb as to think he'd win his son over after so long with another iteration of Foxy to control...

Charlie glanced to Michael, gauging his take on the matter.

As expected, Mike was absolutely livid after hearing Vanny's claim. His thoughts followed a similar path as Charlie's, though more focused on his horrendous old man's obsession with irony. 

“W-Well… What are you guys trying to do?! You're going to murder kids until what?” Charlie begged to know. She hoped Vanny would tell them anything before this all escalated into a potential fight.

“Ah, now that's a secret I can't tell you!” the bunny-suited woman exclaimed, wagging her finger again. Then she giggled, pressing a hand to the rabbit mask's mouth demurely. “All I can say is that he's so excited to see you both again—well, mostly you, Michael. No offense, Charlie... it's just that you were quite the problem child after your death.” There was a mocking note to her tone as those red, unblinking eyes settled on the Puppet.

“How did he get in your head, Vanessa?” Michael demanded, but she simply shook her head and clasped her hands behind her again.

“You don't need to know everything, Mikey~”

Problem child? Problem child?!

Yes, Charlie thought, already attempting to clamber over the animatronic fox to get to the patchwork bunny. She wouldn't kill Vanessa, just hurt her enough so she’d lead them to William. Just a few swipes of her pointy fingers across her flesh would suffice…

“Take it back!” Puppet screeched, already feeling herself grasped by Michael’s fast reflexes. How dare Vanny imply that Charlie being angry over her own death made her a problem?!

Beyond the door, in the cleared-out warehouse and makeshift workplace, a deep British voice finally called. “Vanny! Where are they? I'm ready to see my son...”

It was only then that Charlie realized what was really going on: Vanny was a distraction, not just a pawn. She may have been brainwashed, but she could still think—and what she thought she was doing was reuniting a family...

In a way she had. Not in any fun or heartfelt way, but the way that triggered something resembling nausea inside of Charlie's soul.

“Not her, Charlie,” Michael murmured as he held Puppet close against his chest in a bear hug. His eyes were fixed to the workshop entrance—hard, set and ready for blood. “We're going for the big prize now.”

“They're right out here~” Vanny called back, skipping over to the door and throwing it open. She gasped at the sight of whatever was inside, pressing oversized paws to her cheeks. “Oh, you look amazing!” She glanced back at Michael and Charlie, gesturing them over with excitement. “Come and see, you two!”

“Amazing? My dear, no, you're going to make me blush!” William cooed in a bad attempt to appear humble, though anyone who knew him would say that his ego always mattered. Now he finally had someone who’d feed into it whenever he pleased.

They had fixed up Bonnie—that much was clear. The revamped Glamrock stood tall as William tested the wide range of motion. He hopped from one foot to another, agile and fast. Then he turned, looking into a smudged and hazy mirror. Raising his paw, William slicked back his ears to sit flush against his head like he was smoothing back hair.

Charlie had a bad feeling about advancing on the psychotic Afton now. The man oozed confidence, and someone who didn't have a trick up their sleeves wouldn't want to go toe to toe with them... And yet as she looked to Michael for back up, it was clear that he needed closure.

Something. Anything.

Even if they only managed to wound his father, it may be enough for Michael right then.

So they slowly closed in on the old rabbit, who turned with a softened, half-lidded expression of content. William found it amazing how some bonds lasted beyond life itself. He watched as Michael protectively hugged Charlie to his side as they scurried in to see him. Placing his hands where his heart should've been, the Afton patriarch could finally greet them properly for the first time in decades.

“Welcome home, kids...”

[1] “Hello, kids.”

“Good job on finding the main office. I was wondering when you were going to stop running around like chickens without heads.”

“Lol.”

“What’s wrong, Michael? You can’t really be that upset… Come find me in the warehouse if you need to talk, sport.”

Chapter Text

Now behave
For the voices in the halls
Will try to eat you up alive
So before the show begins
Please don't hold against our sins
'Cause by dawn you'll be crumbling in your skin

~Unfixable by Dagames~

“You haven't been a home to me in decades, Father,” Michael spat, releasing Charlie so she could get out of his way.

He honestly didn't know what he was going to do right now. There were so many options: claw William's eyes out? Slice off his ears first? Go for the legs and incapacitate him, then work on the ears?

But... no. Michael caught that gleam in the rabbit's eyes—that look of utmost confidence, like nothing in the world could hurt him at that moment. And then, the gravity of the situation finally dawned on the eldest Afton.

Gone was the greenish-yellow fur, decayed after years of being soaked with a combination of oil, mold, and rotting human remains. The outer casing, once torn enough to show literal human bones and mummified tendons poking through, was now bright purple and pristine. A golden, red-rimmed star graced his left cheek, reminiscent of a sticker a kid might press onto their favorite toy. This was still Bonnie, but not the version Michael had associated with his father for so many years.

In a hushed, horrified tone, he whispered: “You... you have a new body? How...?”

“Ah ah ah!” William tutted, gently tapping the side of his muzzle, the nose squeaking with each press. “I'm an entertainer, Michael. I can't give away every magic trick.”

He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, Bonnie’s ever-smiling grin seeming to widen. The over confidence in his movements reminded Charlie of the day those angry little souls had cornered him, right before he ran into that bunny suit. This was what Charlie truly feared with William’s persistent immortality, and she tried to discreetly make herself smaller as she stood by her friend.

“Honestly—it would bore you two with how much you missed,” William sighed, looking to Michael and raising Bonnie’s dark eyebrows. “In a roundabout sort of way, I have a new body the same way you do.”

As usual, that answered nothing at all. William had never explained anything that was happening to them, only leaving clues in his wake for Michael to find and scrabble the mismatched pieces together.

“Now that I've leveled the playing field, I believe you both wanted to speak to me?” He gave them a lopsided smirk, knowing that Charlie was cowering. She didn't even look animate at that moment, frozen like a statue behind Foxy’s swashbuckling coat.

Initially, Michael could only growl in response. He took a threatening step forward, but it was half-hearted. He hated to admit it, but he was a bit scared. William was intimidating in this new form, so self-confident and sure—a far cry from the last time Mike had seen him, rotting and burning on the way to his own personal hell.

Well. So much for that plan, Uncle Henry, Michael thought with a grimace. Eventually he found the will to talk again, voice cold and hard.

“We want to do more than just speak to you,” he snarled through clenched teeth, flexing sharp claws and an even sharper hook. “Most of what we want to do doesn't involve words. But I do have one thing to say—I've tried to tell you for years, but you didn't listen.” Michael let out a mirthless laugh. “You've never listened, though, so I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised. But maybe you'll be more receptive with your new and improved ears.”

He locked gazes with his father and spoke in a tone that begged absolutely no question. “I HATE you.”

William didn't really expect anything different. Or, really a response at all. His ears twitched at the words, giving off a look of... remorse?

Surely not; it was doubtful that man was even capable of such an emotion anymore.

“Such harsh words for your father, Michael. My only regret is not telling you everything from the start. Probably would have made all this less confusing for you.” William turned, unconcerned by his son's threatening posture. He instead focused on fixing his bowtie in the mirror.

“—Got to say, this reunion is a bit disappointing. I expected at least a ‘thanks, dad,’” he went on, his reflection gesturing towards Charlie as his eyes locked onto Michael’s in the glass. “I understand that Charlotte hates me. What excuse do you have, Michael?”

“What excuse...?”

That did it. If Mike thought he was mad before, it was nothing compared to how he felt right now.

“What excuse?! You've taken everything from me, and killed so many innocent people in the process! Charlie, Lizzie... even Uncle Henry wouldn't have died in that fire if you hadn't forced him into making that stupid plan to get rid of you—and I'm so, utterly disappointed it didn't work.”

Sharp teeth were bared now as Michael completely ignored the others in the room. It was just William and himself. Father and son. Murderer and—

“You even killed me, you know.” Michael's voice was dangerously soft, an opposite reflection of the turmoil and pain he felt inside. “If it weren't for your atrocious Funtimes, I wouldn't have been scooped! Did you even know about that?! How the soul of my dead sister and her creepy robot friends thought I was you and tore my insides out, then piloted my body around for a week until they left me to die on the sidewalk?!”

Michael palmed at his metal stomach, a faint echo of the past and the shock he'd experienced that day.

“But unfortunately, my soul stuck around. Didn't you wonder why the fuck I was purple when I finally found you again? It wasn't just the uniform, dad—I was corpse, just like you. And it was all because I was cursed with your disgusting, murderous face.

“So, to answer your question: there’s quite a few reasons why I despise you with every fiber of my being.”

Finally Michael clenched his jaw shut, unwilling to say more. If he tried, he feared he might just start screaming. He glanced at Charlie by his side, and too late he realized that he wasn't sure how much she knew about his initial death and how he'd existed afterwards.

Puppet had her mouth covered. It was horrific. Michael had truly suffered through the years. The trial of watching everyone around you die, including yourself... Unable to stop the horrible cycle that William refused to end.

“Why?” Charlie asked, her voice box muffled by her hands. “William, why?”

Will was close to the mirror now, hand braced against it. Death had jaded him, certainly. His feelings long-eroded, the only thing left in his mottled brain was his original idea—to use the souls of children to reanimate his loved ones. When one dead child became another, in turn the universe sent another tragedy to rip his family away.

But despite all this, William persisted. When he found the world's best bandage for the nastiest boo-boo, how could he just sit idly by and let death win?

“I didn't mean to leave you, Michael. You're right, it's all my fault.” William turned, moving slowly as he stepped closer to them. Answering Charlie's question, he responded in a delusional voice. “Sometimes, you'll do crazy things for the people you care about. You can't stop me...”

“Killing kids sure is a funny way to show you care!” Michael yelled, shifting in front of Charlie protectively. “This ends tonight, Father.”

And with that he lunged, pirate hook glinting in the dim light as he swiped at William's face.

“No!” Vanny shrieked, finally spurred into action by the legitimate threat to her savior. She lurched forward as well, though she'd been lingering in the doorway and had a few feet to travel before she could reach them.

Charlie thought if she couldn't muster the courage to fight William, she'd keep Vanessa from getting herself killed while Michael fought his father. Sideswiping Vanny, Puppet attempted to grapple her to the ground.

“I'm sorry, Vanessa!” she yelped over the sound of them both hitting the hard concrete.

Vanny simply shrieked as she was tackled. She struggled valiantly, but though Charlie wasn't nearly as tough as her Glamrock counterparts she was still stronger than a human—even a pissed off one in a bunny suit.

William saw the attack coming, ducking his head as the heavy claw swung to pierce the metal casing on his face. A short gasp escaped his lips, surprised by his own speed before shooting a fist out.

“I did it to bring him back! I would have done it for any of you!” he explained fruitlessly. William had gone crazy, unable to understand how destroying all those naïve children’s futures would never make up for the death of his own family.

Michael grunted at the blow to his stomach, unable to dodge fast enough. Unlike his father with decades of experience piloting an animatronic that was far inferior to his new one, Mike had only been at this for less than an hour.

“Don't... don't you dare talk about Evan!” Michael yelled once he'd regained his balance. “I wanted him back, too, but I also needed you! My dad, who was supposed to help me, just... left me!”

Yes, William might’ve been physically there to make sure his remaining kids’ basic needs of food and shelter were met, but Evan's death unintentionally severed whatever emotional connection they'd had. A cross between a sob and a growl of anguish escaped Foxy's voice box as Mike tried another swipe at William, this time for his arm.

The emotional drain of this encounter was already taking its toll. Mike was losing focus, unable to think of how to outsmart this tricky, old soul as his mind narrowed to a pinpoint of:

Slash, maim, destroy, KILL

Vanny's anguished screams were freaking Charlie out. If she’d broken a bone, she was going to feel awful… Still, it was better than either of the enraged Aftons outright murdering her by accident. That was what she and Michael were trying to avoid in the first place.

The Bonnie suit was dexterous, but William could only move so fast. A light scratch marked up the paint on his arm as he dodged his son's second cutthroat swipe.

“I thought you were strong enough to be on your own! You hate me for having faith in you?!” Jumping onto a nearby workbench, William shouted at Michael as he kicked crates of spare parts to keep him at bay.

“How the hell was I supposed to know you had faith in me?! I was still a kid!” Michael snapped back, stalking closer to William and doing his best to either dodge or smack away the flying parts that came at him. “You might not have treated me like one, but I was! And I'd just watched my brother die in front of my eyes! Why can't you understand how horrific that was?! All the guilt I felt?! I know it was my fault, but you weren't even there to listen to me admit it!”

Vanny could see William steadily getting closer to her. Spurred on by this she redoubled her efforts to escape Puppet's grasp, ignoring the dull ache in her right arm; she'd probably bruised something, but to her relief it didn't quite feel like a broken limb. After a bit, Vanny managed to struggle her upper torso free and hold out her arms, hoping William would be able to snatch her up and take them both away now that he finally had a body of his own.

“Michael, I—” Will began, before he spied where Charlie was wrestling Vanessa on the ground.

She was the key for getting around in this damn place. Vanny was still useful, and so William hopped down from the table and kicked Charlie away like she was nothing more than an annoying gnat. The Puppet smacked the wall painfully, her skull beginning to emit sparks and a hard grinding noise as she attempted to silence her music box. Moving suddenly became harder now.

Scooping Vanny up and holding her under the arms, William brandished the patchwork rabbit towards his son. “Ah! Don't move! You wouldn't want to hurt my friend by accident, right, Michael?”

Vanny giggled deliriously. It seemed that the more unhinged William became, so did the lingering glitch in her brain. What Vanny perceived as a comforting hug and a friendly warning was Will mostly just using her as a meat shield—yet she was lax in his grip, letting most of her weight drape over the animatronic's arm. “Yes... We're friends~”

Michael froze in his tracks. Directly in front of him was his father, the man he'd been trying to take down for nearly his entire life. Again, William was using an innocent to further his own selfish needs. The orange eyes of the fox shifted. To his left was Charlie, clearly damaged and hurting. Mike could try for Will, and he might actually be able to do something about him once and for all...

But that was only a possibility. However, there was a guarantee that William would injure Vanessa without hesitation if Michael moved towards him. He couldn't risk another life lost—physically, at least. He didn't even want to think about the mental torment Vanessa was going through with a crazed child murderer in her head.

Michael turned away from his father with a snarl, rushing to his dearest friend. As he gently picked her up and analyzed the fresh damage, he called out in a strained voice: “Charlie! Charlie, are you awake? Can you still talk?!”

William happily squeezed Vanny, pleased that the plan worked as he attempted to shuffle out of the room.

Live to fight another day, he thought, knowing Vanny couldn't possibly disagree with how happy she was to be snuggling with her favorite pal. Though it hurt to leave Michael yet again, he knew his son just wouldn't understand yet. Clearly he’d been hanging around Henry's brat for too long, and she’d started to make Michael soft.

Charlie was having trouble turning her head and her music box drowned out any helpful words she may have had. All she could do was raise her hand and point at the troublesome bunnies escaping. She was more worried about William leaving than her own wellbeing.

“Ha-Have to s-stop—” Charlie sputtered in a garbled radio frequency. The harder she tried to talk, the worse the grinding noise became.

“Shh, shh, okay, just—relax,” Michael tried to soothe, knowing his words were probably useless. He could feel the panic and confusion emanating from the Marionette, and it took all his willpower not to turn around and stop William as he ran out the door with his human “friend.” Michael waited for the heavy animatronic footsteps to recede down the hall, teeth clenched and head hung in shame. Once he could no longer hear Will stomping he lifted Charlie into his arms, helping her wrap around his body as best she could.

“I'm sorry I let him get away,” he murmured in whatever was considered the Puppet's ear, rocking her slightly in a vague attempt at comfort. “But if I acted again, he was going to kill Vanessa, and I... I couldn't let him do that. She's still useful to him, so he's not going to try anything for a while. At least, I hope.”

He stopped shifting, squeezing his eyes shut as he took in a simulated, shuddering breath. “God, I can't... I-I let you get hurt again, Charlie. I’m sorry...”

“No—t you—your f-f-fault,” she corrected as her hand went out to weakly pet the side of his head.

They had fallen right into the trap. The bastard couldn't even fake being sincere before trying to kill her again, Charlie thought with a white-hot anger. Now Vanny and Gregory were in more danger than ever because she still wasn’t strong enough to stop him. None of this was because of Michael, though, and she needed him to know it.

“D-Don't bla—ame yourself,” her voice box strained to say.

Michael simply squeezed her tight for a good while. Then, he let out a determined huff and turned to the doorway.

“Right, no time to waste—let's get you repaired so we can track down those bunnies again,” he said, starting to walk back towards Parts & Service.

Repairing Charlie wouldn't be a problem at all with his technical prowess. Michael would get her fixed up and then they could check on Freddy and Gregory to make sure the pair were okay before resuming their search for William. In the chaos of their recent encounter, he'd almost forgotten about the other rogue animatronics, the boy hiding from them, and his steadfast robotic protector.

...Almost. Despite it all, Gregory was in the back of his mind. He couldn't let another child befall the same fate as those they'd already lost due to William's madness.

It was frustrating. Clearly her friend needed words of encouragement, but Charlie was unable to properly annunciate her feelings to Michael about how he couldn't be there to protect everyone all the time, no matter how hard he tried. Without Freddy, yes, Charlie would be furious that they’d left Gregory behind.

But thankfully, none of them had to do this alone.

The Puppet did attempt to console Michael some more, but as she tried to nuzzle against him her head snapped painfully to the side and her music box crackled slightly behind the mask. “S... sorry—orry.”

“Hey, I said relax!” Michael gently chided, hoping his light demeanor would detract from his obvious worry. He’d be able to fix her—he would. She’d be speaking normally in no time at all. He managed a small laugh. “You’re still not going to listen to me after all these years, huh? So stubborn…”

She was trying too hard, maybe. Charlie felt called out as he carried her through the darkness. Even with her dented skull, she’d fight tooth and nail to try and do things her way.

Still, it was hard to argue with Michael’s logic. Stressing herself out would only make the damage worse. For now Charlie would have to be content with being carried like a doll again. Giving Mike something close to a pouting huff, her hands fell uselessly to relax on her torso as she remembered all the times she took not being broken for granted.

“Much better!” Mike’s laugh was a bit more genuine now, eyes lighting up as he spied the repair cylinder. He wasted no time in rushing inside and locking the door. Moon had disappeared to who knows where after their last encounter, but Michael didn’t want to risk being caught by surprise should he or another animatronic return.

Righting the overturned chair, he gently set Charlie in it. “Okay! First thing I’ll do is check inside your faceplate to see—”

Whatever excitement has started to build was instantly quashed as Michael moved his right hand to begin working… only to remember that he now had a shining hook in place of fingers. That certainly put a damper on a fast repair.

“Well, shit.”

***

Freddy hadn’t had time to respond to Charlie before she and Michael rushed out of the security office in search of whatever wrote those taunting messages on the monitor. The bear stared after them, blinking a few times; at least they’d had the wherewithal to close the door behind them.

Freddy soon refocused on his most pressing concern: Gregory, who was still sitting in his lap. Now that the others were gone it was just the two of them, and by the look on the poor boy’s face it was clear their swift departure distressed him.

“Are you alright, superstar?” Freddy asked, looking down with concern.

Gregory shook his head. Whatever had gotten the two so worried now had completely vanished from the monitors. Lifting his eyes, the boy met Freddy’s gaze worriedly.

“Is there any way we can help them?” he decided to ask, wondering if this battle was something they could aid in or if they’d just have to sit back and wait.

“At the moment, I do not know,” Freddy admitted with a frown.

Of course he wanted to help, but Michael’s reaction had been so strong, Freddy knew that whatever they were up against was a far greater threat than he realized. If only they’d actually gotten to talk to each other before he and Charlie stormed off…

Freddy’s eyes snapped to Gregory’s. The bear might have been out of commission for a while, but the boy hadn’t.

“You can help me with something, though—there is a small gap in my memory from when I was powered down,” he explained. “Did you learn any new information from Charlie and Michael while I was out? Anything about them personally, or this situation as a whole?”

Clearly Mike’s soul had found its way into Foxy, but how much did Gregory understand about their true ghostly nature? Did he know that Michael and Charlie were more than just rogue AI programs like Freddy had indicated earlier? The bear needed to gauge the boy’s level of understanding before he could speak further so he didn’t overwhelm him.

Gregory looked to Freddy again with a heavy crease in his brow. Poor, innocent Freddy. He was going to be shocked when he heard this... It’s a good thing he was already sitting down.

“Oh man,” Gregory began, bracing himself by placing a hand at the middle of the bear’s chest. “I don’t know how to tell you this…”

With the concerned look the bear was giving him, he figured the best way to say it was to come right out with it. After a huge sigh, Gregory admitted: “I’m sorry… But I found out that Mike and Charlie? They’re ghosts—they’ve been haunting this place for a while I think. I know that might be hard to understand, but… but they’re just people, you know? I think they died super young.”

He hoped this didn’t change the way Freddy saw their friends in the long run.

“…Ah.” The bear nodded in understanding, not seeming shocked at all. “So they told you. I was aware of their ghostly nature, though I do not know how or why they came to be this way.” He gave Gregory an apologetic smile. “I am sorry we kept that from you—we were not sure how you would react.”

Then he frowned, processing something else Gregory said. “Wait… They are both young?”

This time there was a hint of shock in his voice. He realized just then how little he actually knew about the spirits. He’d seen Charlie’s face in Michael’s memories, but the man in Freddy’s head still remained a mystery. Whatever jumbled thoughts had slipped through when they were tied together still didn’t make much sense to the bear.

Then, something clicked: Michael and… Charlie. No—Charlotte. That was her full name. She’d revealed her identity earlier, when Freddy was still new to the concept of ghosts and his electronic brain couldn’t quite connect all the dots.

“When I was human, my father was the co-owner of the original Fazbear dinner.”

She was Charlie Emily. So then, if she’d claimed to know Michael for a long time the logical conclusion was that he was in fact Michael Afton—son to the other founder of Fazbear Entertainment, William, who'd been mysteriously wiped from every record possible for reasons unknown to anyone in this day and age.  

But… that was impossible. Charlotte had died many years ago, and Michael had gone missing a few years after. Even Freddy’s simple history of the company told him that much.

So if they were somehow back from the dead… what did that mean?

Oh great! Gregory wondered what other secrets were being kept from him. While he pouted as Freddy told him the truth, he didn’t seem very mad—just annoyed at being out of the loop. Honestly, things could be a lot weirder. They’d already faced strangeness head-on together, as killer robots had seemed farfetched in Gregory’s arsenal of potential threats until this evening.

Back to Freddy’s question. How old was Michael really? Hard to say, coming from a kid who thought anyone over the age of eighteen was an “adult.” When Gregory saw Mike’s face—his real face—he looked pretty young. Whether he was still a teen had Gregory scratching his head, though he was willing to bet Michael was on the older side given his attitude towards himself and his apparent love of 80’s glam metal.

Gregory gave Freddy an undecided shrug. “I think he’s probably, like… like—if we’re talking about when he died? I saw his ghost, and he didn’t look super old. Maybe 20, 21?”

Gregory was terrible with guessing ages anyway, and he could only assume from the stuff he’d learned through movies that ghosts’ appearances were essentially “stuck” as they were when they kicked the bucket. Still, that left the question of how Charlie and Mike lost their lives and attached themselves to this place and the animatronics around them.

Even with Gregory’s haphazard guess of Michael’s age, Freddy’s assumption still tracked relatively well. He wouldn’t know for sure until he asked them, but combining all his scattered knowledge it did seem like their new friends were in fact Michael Afton and Charlotte Emily.

“…I think this mystery goes much deeper than you and I can hope to understand until we reunite with our friends,” Freddy eventually said with a slow shake of his head. Then he gave Gregory a smile and gently ruffled his hair. “But that is alright—as we do not know how long they will take, you and I can still make ourselves useful by getting the rest of those access passes. The more areas of the Pizzaplex are open to us, the better off we will be in the long run.”

He looked to the monitors again, his expression falling slightly. “And if we find a way to stop the other animatronics from chasing you along the way… so be it.”

Freddy hoped they would simply be able to avoid his infected friends while they wandered, but based on Roxy’s increasingly erratic behavior he had a feeling they might be on higher alert as the night went on. If things came down to it, Freddy would protect Gregory in whatever way necessary—even if it was at the expense of his once-lovable companions.

Gregory could think of a few ways to stop them from chasing him. Smash them; dismantle them; burn them. Really, if Freddy wasn't looking and one of his "buddies" was threatening him, the kid might just snap. If Freddy happened to find one of his pals smashed from a fall at a broken escalator, Gregory would own up to it if asked. Though he couldn't see himself regretting it.

After all, they could be rebuilt and downloaded back into new bodies; Gregory couldn't. Not unless he was like Michael or Charlie.

“I'm ready if you are!” the boy said, excited to get moving again. The faster they got those access passes, the quicker they could help the others and escape the danger of the Pizzaplex.

“Excellent! Now, the next two passes can be found in the Monty Golf and Fazer Blast offices,” Freddy explained. “I believe the easiest one to retrieve is in the golf course; however, we need Party Passes to enter both locations, so…”

He trailed off, staring straight ahead with a frozen expression of concentration, save for his eyes which rapidly moved back and forth. Freddy’s AI was calculating the most logical path to achieve their objective based on all the tasks needed to do so.

“Alright, here is the plan!” he announced after a moment, ready to make some progress. “Chica keeps a stock of Party Passes in her room; we will go there first, retrieve the passes, then stop by my room on the way to Monty Golf—I have a gift for you that I think will prove quite useful to both of us.” The bear grinned, knowing Gregory would be excited by this prospect. Hopefully getting a present would lighten his spirits a bit. “Then, we can head to Monty Golf, retrieve the next security card, and return here to figure out the next step. How does that sound?”

Gregory looked at Freddy like he’d put stars in his eyes. He’d seen the animatronics give gifts to children at their parties before—usually a company raffle or special ticket that a kid could use to receive an exclusive prize.

“Heck yeah! Let's blow this popsicle stand!” Gregory exclaimed, hopping off Freddy’s lap and rushing to the door. He seemed to bounce slightly from one foot to another as he waited for the bear to take his hand, anticipating the useful gift.

Freddy laughed at the boy's contagious excitement, quickly unplugging his charging cord and setting it on the desk. He debated carrying it around in his stomach hatch just in case of another power drain, but he'd much rather assure that Gregory had room to hide inside if needed. Besides, the path they were about to take was littered with charging pods, so Freddy should have no problem locating one if his battery started to drain a bit too low for comfort.

Taking Gregory's hand, the bear led him back to Rockstar Row. They looked around cautiously for animatronics, but it was eerily silent in the museum. The others must be on patrol elsewhere in the Pizzaplex—a concerning thought for later, but it suited their immediate purposes just fine. After a quick stop in Chica's room to snatch a few Party Passes, the pair were back in Freddy's abode.

“Let me see...,” Freddy murmured, rummaging around in the drawers of his vanity. “I know I had one in here—aha!”

With a triumphant grin, he held up a small object by the tips of his claws. It was a child-sized watch, made to resemble Freddy's color palate and even complete with a set of tiny ears and top hat. “Take this—it is a novelty Freddy Fazwatch. This one is particularly special, as it is synced directly to myself. This way, I will be able to communicate with you if we ever get separated.”

Gregory had never been given such a gift before. It was on his wrist in mere seconds as he admired the sturdy, rounded plastic edges. There were several neat properties of the watch, despite its size. He could write notes on the interactive touch screen and even pull up a map. With the ability to zoom in on any attraction or store to get his bearings, Gregory wouldn't have to worry about accidentally being separated from Freddy or the others anymore!

Testing out the watch Gregory raised his wrist to his face, feeling like a spy from a futuristic movie.

“Can you hear me? Over.” He chuckled, able to hear himself echoing somewhat from the bear’s close proximity. “Thanks, Freddy!”

“You are very welcome, superstar!” Freddy replied, his voice coming from both the watch and the bear himself. “Now you can call for me if you are ever in trouble—or if you ever just want to talk. Over.”

His expression softened at Gregory's smiling face. He'd never seen the boy so happy before, since he'd mostly been running from things trying to hurt him from the moment they’d met. The bear was glad that he could provide some joy, no matter how small it was.

As he watched Gregory continue to check out the features of the watch, Freddy felt a strange pang in his chest. He wasn't quite sure what prompted it, nor what it really was... The closest point of reference he had was a file in his databank of simulated emotions labeled “affection.” He cared about all the children he met, of course—he was literally designed to.

But Gregory... he was special. Maybe it was simply because they'd been through so many tough things in such a short amount of time, or maybe it was due to the ghost that’d apparently lived in his head for who knows how long. Michael's emotions were strong, after all, so who’s to say they couldn't rub off on an incredibly sentient AI?

As Freddy stared down at this brave, resilient child, he realized that he couldn't let him go back to that foster home. Until they found a more suitable guardian, someway, somehow, Freddy vowed to protect Gregory until he could no longer function.

On the other hand, Gregory tended to keep those affectionate feelings down. Hell, he'd only just become comfortable hugging the animatronics after discovering which ones were friendly versus murderous—and even that was dicey with those like the Daycare attendant. If Gregory wasn't so stoic for a child, he'd probably gush about how Freddy was his favorite.

That he loved him...

Though if life taught Gregory anything, it was that good things aren't meant to last. He’d wait to tell Freddy that he didn't want to leave—and that if he had to leave, Freddy would be coming with him one way or another. By the end of the night, he wouldn't be surprised if a patrol car was waiting outside to pick Gregory back up, ready to corral him back to his foster family...

Still, he'd let Freddy know his immediate appreciation with a quick hug. Even if the gift was essential to helping them, it was thoughtful nonetheless. Gregory would probably be bothering him a lot should they be separated for even the smallest reason, if only to keep tabs on the bear.

“Monty Golf next?” he asked, curiously flicking between the maps as he scoped out the gator’s attraction ahead of time.

“Yes—the access pass is in the back staff area. We will need to cross through some of the golf course to get to it.” Freddy peered down at the watch as well. Those camera feeds were definitely going to be useful for traversing this place full of wild robots out for Gregory's blood. “I do not see Monty roaming around—we should move quickly though, in case he decides to show up.”

During the day, the animatronics defaulted to staying in their attractions unless performing on stage, attending a birthday party, or otherwise requested to make an appearance somewhere else in the Pizzaplex. Even on those rare occasions they'd been allowed to roam during night shift, the group usually hung out together in one attraction before splitting off to do their own things until summoned back to their rooms. It wouldn't surprise Freddy at all to see the gator's tail swishing just out of the camera's view the next time they checked.

Trotting down the hall with Freddy's hand enveloping his, Gregory was feeling more confident and less scared roaming the massive complex. He wasn't alone, and the chances of them running into something friendly had technically increased. His mood began to turn further as they entered the dimly lit, electric swamp-themed attraction. The ambient sounds promised a fun game, and so did the music playing automatically as the attraction sensors caught Gregory's movements upon entry.

“It really sucks that Monty’s sick,” Gregory sighed, almost melancholic as he looked across an indoor pond. “It would’ve been real cool hanging out with him here…”

“I think you and Monty would get along fantastically,” Freddy said, smiling down at him. Gregory's rambunctious personality was just the type of kid Monty adored—someone up for trying anything and everything, willing to check out whatever cool topic caught their attention next. If the gator was himself, Freddy knew that he'd probably have quite the time keeping Gregory and Monty apart.

“Perhaps once all this is over and everyone is back to normal, you can stop by for a round of golf,” Freddy suggested as they neared a door leading to the back staff area.

His tone was light and nonchalant, pointedly neglecting to mention the unspoken addition of “—and since you will be staying here, you will have all the time in the world to do so.”

The bear was getting ahead of himself again; how was he supposed to keep a human child in the Pizzaplex?

That was definitely a topic to dwell on later. For now, though, they continued through the faux-swap, keeping vigilant for any wayward gators that might be hiding in the foliage waiting to snap at them.

“You can stop by...”

Right. It was all going to end eventually, wouldn't it? There was the Pizzaplex, and there was reality. Sooner or later Gregory would have to come back to it all. His smile faltered thinking about it—how it'd inevitably end up with Gregory being punished for running away, and forbidden from ever visiting this place again. No real family to care about him other than being another government paycheck in their wallets...

To hide the sudden spike in anxiety, Gregory forced a smile and said: “Yeah! I-I mean, if I'm allowed...”

Even if he had to sneak out, Gregory would keep finding a way back. Just as soon as they made this a safer place to visit again—not just for himself, but for the other children, too. For the ones taken without explanation, never to return.

Freddy simply squeezed Gregory's hand in response. He hadn't meant to make the boy upset. Hopefully what they were about to find would bring that smile right back to his face!

“Here we are!” Freddy announced as they made it to the security office. Out of habit, they automatically locked down the doors upon entering the room—this one was the smallest so far, with barely enough space for the pair to fit due to the clutter of boxes and tons and tons of random toys.

“Ah... I forgot that this area is also used as a sort of Lost and Found,” Freddy explained, leaning over to examine one of the box's contents. “Well, it is more of a room to confiscate Faz Cameras—there is no flash photography allowed in Monty Golf, yet this is the only location that sells the cameras, so they get taken often.” He paused to frown, then shook his head and resumed searching. “It does not make much sense. However—”

With a bright grin, Freddy produced a novelty camera bearing his features and held it out to Gregory. “—now we also have this! Our eyes are very sensitive to the flash, so it might prove useful in evading the other animatronics.”

And there was another genuine smile as Gregory saw the camera as a new gift, too. The device was nice and sturdy and it doubled as a novelty flashbang. Not only could he practically blind the animatronics when needed, he’d get free pictures of them in the process! Usually those were $10 up front.

“That doesn't make sense—” Gregory agreed, grinning impishly at the weapon. “—but I won't question it because it's helping us out.” He turned around and took an experimental picture, mindfully facing the flash away from Freddy. When the Polaroid printed out and fell to the ground, an intrusive thought fleetingly sliced through his mind.

If tonight was Gregory’s last night on Earth—if Vanny or the robots killed him—a picture may be the only proof that he was there.

Freddy winced at the flash, still a little bright for him in the tiny space, but thankfully Gregory's forethought to turn the camera away saved him from the worst of it. His eyes reset as Gregory examined the Polaroid, and then Freddy shuffled past him to the cluttered security desk. He moved a few stacks of papers, trash, and confiscated toys before spotting the access pass holder.

“Excellent; here is the pass! Now we can return to—hmm?” The bear let out a confused exclamation as he took a good look at the ticket in his hand. It was not in fact a security access pass, but an entry ticket to... Mazercise? “What in the world—”

“Lookin' for somethin', Fazbear?” A loud, deep voice sounded from outside the room, followed by a roaring laugh.

“Hide!” Freddy hissed, automatically opening his stomach hatch for Gregory to hop into. As long as he didn't actually see Gregory, perhaps Monty would be a little less... feral. Maybe the animatronics could have two seconds of conversation before everything hit the fan.

Gregory had wanted to use the camera flash, but it looked like Freddy didn't enjoy the last picture he’d taken. So instead he was quick to jump into the safety of the surprise compartment, advising Freddy in a whisper: “Act mean! Like you're one of them!”

Who knew—maybe such a ruse would buy them some time. Gregory was afraid of Freddy getting into a fight with Monty. The bear would surely be scratched up by Monty's claws, and if the gator managed to pry Freddy open Gregory would only have the camera as his last means of defense...

Freddy's chest hatch closed him in complete darkness, and Gregory was alone and waiting as Monty banged at the magnetically locked doors.

“Montgomery Gator, stop that!” Freddy yelled, though he did take Gregory's words to heart and smack against the door in response. This action seemed to startle Monty, who paused his assault to peer in the window instead.

From what Freddy could see, Monty was messed up—far worse than Roxy, covered in dirt and grime and who knows what else. It really looked like the gator had been crawling around in the sewers, and one of the spokes of his prized star glasses had been chipped off. If nothing else, that was the biggest indication that Monty was too far gone.

Ever since Chica gifted him those glasses, Monty refused to take them off unless absolutely necessary, treating them with the reverent care of a prized possession. It was the first gift he'd been given by one of the Glamrock crew upon his initiation to the band, and it marked the first time he'd started to feel like more than just Bonnie's replacement.

But now they were dirty and broken, just like the rest of him.

“Freddy! I missed ya, big guy! Where've you been all night?!” Monty asked, his grin much too wide for the simple conversation they were having. At least it seemed that Gregory hid away just in time...

Monty's tone was friendly enough, Gregory decided. There was no need to fret while inside of his safe spot. As long as he spoke in a whisper, it was unlikely that Monty would hear him through Freddy’s chest and on the other side of the safety glass.

“T-tell him you've been looking for me. That you need the access pass to get to me...,” Gregory muttered, hoping Freddy could listen and take his advice without being too obvious.

“I have been looking for the child, just as you have,” Freddy replied, twisting Gregory's words to be his own. “I... believe he may be hidden in an area I cannot reach, so I was coming to find the higher access pass.”

He offered the gator what he hoped was an evil grin, though it was more of a pained grimace. Monty simply stared at him for a second before letting out a loud, barking laugh.

“You're a shit liar, Fredbear!” he exclaimed, and Freddy automatically gasped at the lack of profanity filter. Well, so much for that ruse...

Once Monty settled, he pulled down his glasses to glare through the window, tail swishing ominously back and forth. “Y'know what I think? I think you've been helpin' the little guppy... 's that true, Freddy?”

Freddy pursed his mouth tight, eyes narrowed as he tried to figure out how to answer. Clearly, Monty already knew he was doing just that—there was no point in lying. But the gator was impossible to figure out right now... the way he was talking didn't sound like himself. Not fully. It was just off enough that Freddy found it impossible to predict what he was thinking, let alone plotting.

Nope! No way. Monty was going to eat Gregory’s bones if they went out there. The kid sucked in a sharp breath, the memory of being thrashed around in complete darkness while Monty demolished the room around them still made him shake just thinking about it. The fact that Monty cursed at Freddy made Gregory believe that the real Fazbear bassist was long gone.

“Bad idea—bad idea!” Gregory muttered to himself worriedly.

Maybe he could try flashing the camera at him from inside the room? But that might just make Monty angry, and would also take Freddy out if the bear didn’t cover his eyes quick enough.

“Aw, man, they said you'd be difficult...” Monty gave a dramatic sigh when Freddy failed to respond to his question, then crossed his arms in front of him with a smirk. “You always act so sweet, but you're just as damn stubborn as the rest of us!”

“'They...?'“ Freddy echoed, his eyes narrowing. He took a hesitant step forward, still safe in the confines of the office but trying his best to appeal to the gator. “Monty, this is not you—you would never hurt a child!”

“But that's alright...” The gator continued, completely ignoring Freddy's plea. He let out a low, disturbing laugh, locking gazes with the bear. “I'm gonna get that kid first—I've got a plan. Unlike some stupid WOLF—” He snarled the word, jaw snapping in annoyance. His friendly, competitive nature with Roxy was amped up to dangerous levels by the virus. “—who chases things down and uses up all her energy, gators wait for their prey to come to them.”

His eyes widened excitedly behind his glasses, tail swishing every which way.

“If you want that access card, the kid's gotta come find me!” Monty instructed. “I was even nice enough to give y'all a hint—check the pass you do have.” Then he suddenly turned away, only to call over his shoulder: “See y'all real soon! HAHAHAHA!” 

And with that he ran towards the main golf course, off to wait in ambush for Gregory's arrival.

Chapter Text

I've been patiently waitin' for someone to take the bait
I made a couple of enemies, that's the game that I play…

I'll take one bite, one
And I'll take one bite, one bite, one

~One Bite by Rockit Music~

It was a trap. Of course it was a trap.

As Monty receded back to the golf course, Gregory dug through his cargo short pockets. Going through the cards and examining them, his eyes widened and he knocked against Freddy’s inside hatch.

“Is he gone? Freddy, come look at these!” he hissed with a sense of urgency in his voice. Maybe it was proof that there was still a little good in Monty, giving them a clue to help them and all. Or it was just another part in his game…

Freddy didn’t have nearly as much faith in Gregory that Monty actually meant to help. The gator’s demeanor distressed him greatly. Gone was the rowdy but endearing bassist who wanted nothing more than to make sure kids had fun with him and felt safe doing so. When Monty was himself, though he might cover the feeling up with loud, distracting laughter, it was clear he hated when children were scared of him. He didn’t ask to be built with such an intimidating stature and teeth, after all.

But now, to willingly—gleefully—invite a child to their probable death at his hands?

It was almost unbearable for Freddy to think about.

Thankfully, Gregory’s voice cut through the bear’s musings before he could get too lost in them. After peering through the window one last time, Freddy opened his stomach hatch and released the boy. “Yes, he is gone for now; you may come out.”

Gregory jumped through the opening, landing into a squat on the ground before righting himself. He held the security passes in hand, flaring them out for Freddy to see the potential “clues” placed upon them.

“I know you don’t want to hear this… But I have to go fight Monty,” Gregory said with the confidence of someone that could’ve easily towered over the gator.

Was he scared? Yes—he was scared shitless.

But he would most certainly die in this place if he didn’t at least try to get the upper hand when he could. With his flashing camera, Gregory was fairly confident in his ability to outsmart Monty... if the gator had been himself, that is. As usual, with the deck stacked against him Gregory would have to wing it and hope for the best.

“Absolutely not.” Freddy’s response was immediate and unquestionable. There was no way he’d put Gregory in that sort of danger. “Let us see what this ‘clue’ might be—then we can make a plan.”

He began looking through their old access cards but couldn’t find anything strange on them—no hidden words or symbols. Blinking in confusion, Freddy added their latest Mazercise Pass to the pile. Then, it hit him.

“Oh—oh no…,” Freddy murmured, eyes wide as he stared at the colorful plastic card. His mental map of the Pizzaplex connected the dots as to why Monty left this pass in place of the one they wanted. His mind worked frantically to process everything as he simply stated: “He wants you up on the catwalks…”

Gregory scoffed. This guy planned on dropping him from all the way up by the ceiling, didn’t he? Not only was it unoriginal, but despite its mediocrity it managed to send a shiver up Gregory’s spine. Monty was just going to watch him splat, and that would be it.

Gregory tried to debate with his stubborn metal guard, telling him: “I’m way faster than Monty! Plus, I got this neat camera! Y'know, unless you have a better idea…”

Though he’d love a taste of revenge for the way the gator jacked up his face earlier, Gregory was hesitant to do it alone. That smashing neon light was no joke, and the shattering glass had sliced easily through his fleshy cheek. The memory only reminded him of the damage Monty was capable of.

“I… Let me think.” Freddy absently ran a paw through Gregory’s hair as a comfort to both of them. As long as the boy was still alive and breathing, they were both okay.

After a moment, Freddy gave a resolute nod—he had a semblance of a plan. It wasn’t airtight and it put Gregory in far more danger than he wanted to risk, but it was the best he could come up with.

“Alright, here is what we shall do,” the bear started, pulling Gregory in to rest against his side as he explained. “There is a vent in Mazercise that leads directly to the catwalks over Monty Golf—hence our new pass.” He picked up said card, then handed it to Gregory to pocket with the rest of them.

“You will need to crawl through the vent on your own,” Freddy continued, hating the idea more as he said it aloud. “However, there is a way for me to reach you—there should be an emergency fire escape ladder attached to the catwalks. Once you find it, unhook it and let it drop to ground level. Then I can climb up and help with Monty.”

No need to mention how painstakingly long it would probably take for the half-ton bear to climb the ladder without risking it snapping under his weight. Freddy was going to make it up there to save Gregory, and that was that.

The hug Freddy imparted to Gregory was certainly comforting for a short while. However, as Freddy went through the hastily thought-out plan, Gregory realized why he’d been given this sudden physical affection. They would be separated for some time, and this separation could lead to injury or even death for the human should things go wrong.

So, he squeezed onto Freddy. He’d pretend to be brave until he actually felt courageous enough to let go. No matter how daunting it seemed, Gregory would convince himself that it was all possible—that everything would work in the end.

After all, they never showed the kid dying in the movies…

Eventually the boy reluctantly let go, offering his fierce protector a shaky smile. “I understand the plan, Freddy. Let’s not waste anymore time.”

The bear nodded, taking his hand once again. Thankfully the Fazcam had a carrying strap so Gregory was able to slip this over his shoulder and let the device rest against his hip. At least he wouldn’t be totally defenseless, though this brought Freddy little comfort. He swore there was something important about Monty and the Fazcams that was relevant to their predicament… but he couldn’t remember this little detail among the bigger issues and strange, pseudo-emotions crowding his mind.

The pair trekked back through Monty Golf, now extra-cautious for the gator. However, Monty seemed to have disappeared—at least from ground level. A glance upwards showed the catwalks that were to be their battleground, though Monty himself was noticeably missing. Still, the mere thought of Gregory being all the way up there without Freddy even for a little bit made the animatronic cringe.

Gregory was able to comfortably rest a hand on the top of the camera, ready to pull it forward and snap at anything that moved. Just because they couldn't hear or see anything yet didn't mean Monty wasn't watching. Past the flood lights outside the attraction, now bathed in the bright neon of the Pizzaplex hallways, the gravity of the situation was falling heavier on Gregory’s shoulders.

Yet, oddly enough, all he wanted to do was prove to Freddy that he'd be okay—even if he wasn't sure he would be in the end.

As they entered Mazercise, a loud voice came over the PA system. Chica's cheerful tone belted a prewritten script, making Gregory jump and grasp the Fazcam. Only when it was held in front of his body like a shield did Gregory realize she wasn't actually there.

“Everything will be alright, superstar,” Freddy soothed, placing a hand on Gregory’s back and gently urging him forward. The more he said it, the more he wished this statement to be true. A moment later they’d walked past the exercise room and into the second part of the attraction.

“The maze is controlled by a panel in the staff room,” Freddy began to explain, pointing to the room in question. “It may take us some time to figure out the correct configuration to get us to the vent, unless we can locate some instructions...”

Freddy stared at the maze for a moment, before giving a nod and stepping up to the first moveable wall. Using his animatronic strength he simply lifted the wall out of its track, effectively making a new path that would lead them to the vent without worrying about pressing buttons in the correct order. Putting the wall to the side, Freddy glanced back at Gregory with a grin. “However, I believe this way is much easier—do you agree?”

The destruction of company property brought a smile to the kid’s face. The corners of his mouth raised in an equally happy grin as he sauntered through the new path created for them.

“Freddy, why did they make you that strong?” he asked in wonder.

While he sounded impressed, there was a genuine need to know why on earth they felt the need to create a robot so much tougher than a person. Were they made that way to protect the children? Gregory didn't have any doubt that the shared strength of all the animatronics could lift a full bus. Still, there were no complaints as he told Freddy: “That idea was genius!”

“I honestly do not know why we are so strong, but it certainly proves useful at times!” Freddy replied, still smiling as he moved a few more walls out of the way without any visible effort.

Soon, they’d reached the vent. To Freddy’s surprise and immediate suspicion, the cover had already been unscrewed and was lying haphazardly on the ground. Despite management’s admittedly lax rules on some of the Pizzaplex’s safety measures, they would never allow something like this to happen during opening hours—it was too much of an obvious lawsuit waiting to happen.

“Someone has been here recently…,” Freddy murmured with a frown. The only ones who could fit through vents besides Gregory were: Charlie (clearly out of the question); the Daycare attendant (maybe, if he was in Moon’s virus-infected mode), or… Vanessa.

Freddy’s worry instantly increased at the danger Gregory was about to encounter. There were too many unknowns, too many things that could go wrong—

The bear crouched down, his expression caught between reassurance and concern as he held out his arms for what he hoped wasn’t their final hug. “Be careful, superstar. I will be with you again soon.”

Gregory threw himself against Freddy in another hug, wary of the Fazcam and careful not to damage his only means of defense.

“I'll see you soon...,” he assured, voice muffled against Freddy where he squished his face into his shoulder. If Gregory had any say about it, this would be just another embrace in a long line of hugs to come. After making sure the camera’s flash and power were on, he parted from the bear and started the next segment in his ever-treacherous journey.

Crawling through vents wasn't as discreet as they’d made it look in the movies. There was such a loud banging with every advancement Gregory made, he was surprised no one really heard it. Perhaps these vents were insulated to dilute the sounds of the airflow; that was his most likely guess.

Whatever the case, Gregory decided to hurry it up. There was no chance he'd leave Freddy to wonder whether or not he was okay by dawdling. He really didn't want to spend all that much time inside these places anyway. With barely enough light to see in the full darkness, his fear was that something small could be deftly crawling after him now...

As soon as the boy rounded a corner, Freddy sprinted back towards Monty Golf. He wanted to make it there as fast as possible so he'd be waiting for Gregory when he emerged on the other side of the vent. He was only waylaid by the elevator, its usually-cheery music now a grating sound that only heightened the animatronic's newfound anxiety.

Meanwhile, near the catwalks and just out sight, a gator laid in wait for his prey.

***

At some points, Gregory was bathed in darkness. This was when he’d scurry fastest, barely registering where he was going in his haste to just get out. Eventually, he saw the green glow of the golf course up ahead shining through the slats in the vent cover. Gregory automatically raised his watch to his mouth, before thinking twice about updating Freddy. Should they give away the other’s position with Monty or another infected animatronic around, it left either of them open for attack.

So, after pushing through the vent cover and watching it dangle loosely at its bottom right bolt, Gregory carefully let himself down onto the catwalks. At the far left corner of the winding platforms was a raised, extendable escape ladder.

Carefully, Gregory snuck towards it as he tried to be mindful of how heavy his feet fell on the grated metal tracks. Upon reaching the ladder, the boy pulled the safety pin free to unleash its length towards the ground floor, metal clanking making him wince. If Monty didn't know he was there before, he surely did now.

G̴̻̈o̸̬͌.̵͕̐[1]

The combination of the ladder being unhooked and the virus in Monty’s head stirred him into action. He was waiting in a “backstage” area just out of Gregory’s sight, and upon command he reached up and flipped a switch. This activated the infamous Hurricane Hole-In-One where children had to use air-powered guns to shoot plastic balls at a goal, which would then dump all the balls in a spectacular rainbow waterfall. The guns were scattered around the catwalks themselves and also attached to suspended ride vehicles that ran on a circular track around the area. Once Monty flipped the switch these ride vehicles came to life, and the gator wasted no time hopping onto one and clinging to the side at a jaunty angle.

Upon entering the main area and spying Gregory, Monty let out a deafening roar. He hopped down to land mere feet from the tiny child and in a pure, animalistic display of aggression grabbed one of the stationary air guns and literally ripped it off its foundation. Then he zeroed in on Gregory, a wide grin on his face as he pulled down his glasses to reveal crazed red eyes.

“Let’s rock and roll!” Monty shouted with a raucous laugh, and the chase officially began.

It surely was a dramatic entrance. The clanking and clattering of Monty landing on the rails was enough to bounce Gregory in place, the impact so jarring that his knees almost buckled from its force. Unwilling to stick around to see what Monty would do after destroying the airsoft gun, Gregory pulled himself up and turn tail to sprint away.

Not before snapping a quick picture with his Fazcam, though. Hoping to stun the gator and give him a few seconds of leeway, Gregory released the bright flash directly in Monty’s face. He expected the gator to freeze, maybe even stumble backwards and pitch over the railing himself—

But all he did was laugh.

Oh shit, Gregory thought, his breathing hitching as he darted away. The sunglasses! This camera wasn't going to do anything to help him as long as Monty had those stupid shades on!

There was only one thing to do, then. As Gregory slide on his side to make a sharp turn and aimed to put more distance between him and the blood-hungry gator, he screamed into his Fazwatch. “FREDDY, HE'S AFTER ME!”

Gregory didn't even need the watch for Freddy to hear his shout. The bear was already running towards the ladder, sparing a quick glance up to see Monty tailing the boy far too close for comfort. As Freddy grasped the first rung and began to climb, he called back: “I am coming, Gregory! Just keep your distance until I make it up there!”

Monty cackled wildly as he chased down the helpless child. He barely had any coherent thoughts anymore, only the intense desire to—

C̸̞̍a̵̚ͅt̸̜͗c̷̟̽h̷͚͊ ̶̦̾t̶̞̿h̵̞̍e̸̼͑ ̸̮͠b̶̯̀o̸̧͝ÿ̷̼.̸͇̉ ̸̬̾Ǔ̵̩s̷̗͐e̴̥͗ ̶̡͛f̵̱̐ơ̶̖r̵̜̿ċ̵̬e̴̢̓ ̵͓͘î̸͜f̵͙͒ ̸͠ͅǹ̷̺e̵͈̎c̴͈̈è̸͔s̷͉̍s̷̬̀ą̵̅r̴͓͒y̶͛͜,̴̠̽ ̵̗̿b̴̦͒ų̴̍t̷̥̒ ̵̽͜d̴͕̿ö̵̠́ń̶̫'̵̰̔t̴̪̒ ̷̭̂k̴̀ͅi̶̯̊l̷͓̎l̸̳̐ ̵̭̈́h̸͈͝i̵̭͋m̸̭̐ ̵̯̈́y̴͕̓ę̷̔t̶͔͌.̶̩͗ ̵̱̂G̵̹͒E̶͕̊T̸͍̊ ̷̰̑H̸̪̆Į̵̽M̸̲̂!̶͇͆[2]

To the gator's dismay, Gregory's tiny size made it easy for him to slip away. Monty might be fast, but his large frame was a hindrance in a long-endurance chase. However, the game was only just beginning and the gator had a few tricks up his sleeve.

When Gregory started to get away, Monty paused. It seemed like he was crouching down to take a rest, but this assumption was quickly disproved when he jumped, using his powerful legs to vault him over an entire row of metal track to land heavily in Gregory's path once again.

“Hey, little guy!” he sneered, arms outstretched as he moved forward. “C'mere and give your ol' pal Monty a hug, will ya?!”

With eyes wider than dinner plates and a high-pitched shriek Gregory fell backwards on his haunches, slipping on the smooth metal before attempting his escape in the opposite direction. It seemed as though he ran in place for a moment, and he could feel the back of his shirt tearing where Monty nearly grasped him.

Gregory wondered if jumping off the catwalk himself would be an easier out than whatever Monty had in store. When he could practically feel the swing of those bulky arms shadowing his every move, Gregory tried to calculate a leap off the metal framework. If he aimed for one of the deeper pools where those other robotic alligators were, maybe he’d live—

When he felt claws scrape his back grasping onto the scraps of his already tattered shirt, Gregory knew he’d lost his chance. He clutched the collar of his striped polo and begun to kick his legs, struggling as his feet lifted from the ground.

“Let go! Let go, please!” he yelled in a panic, desperately landing weak kicks to Monty's torso that didn’t even seem to faze him.

“No can do, little guy!” Monty exclaimed, turning Gregory to face him. He gripped the boy's shirt tight, completely disregarding the choking noises and pleading as Gregory urgently tried to escape. He simply laughed off the boy’s attempts to harm him, the strikes akin to nothing more than an annoying gnat buzzing around one's head. Monty held him up higher, his expression utterly feral. “I've got me a prize, and I'm not lettin' it go!”

“MONTY, STOP!” Freddy shouted, moving as fast as he dared. The ladder was holding his weight, but it shook the faster he moved and he didn't want to chance it breaking when he was so close—he was already three fourths of the way there. Just a little more and he'd be able to act.

Monty briefly looked over as Freddy called to him, though more out of annoyance than anything else. “Aww, shut up, Fazbear! You always ruin the fun!”

Still holding Gregory by the shirt Monty began stalking towards the ladder, his free claw outstretched and glinting in the glow lights. Freddy instantly realized what the gator was about to do.

“Gregory, his glasses!” he shouted. “Knock off his glasses and use the camera! Now!”

Gregory had to be fast, no matter how badly his vision swam and the blood trapped in his head hurt. He could feel his heartbeat in his eardrums as he let go of his shirt, feeling the cheap material rip further with his weight as he smacked the busted spectacles from Monty's snout.

When the plastic frames clattered to the ground, so did Gregory as his collar finally ripped from Monty's abuse. Landing hard on his butt, he let out a groan before adjusting and flashing his camera directly in the gator’s face. The bright light pierced the dark atmosphere of Monty Golf, engulfing the pair and capturing a candid snapshot of Monty—

—who’d been aiming his claws right for Gregory's face.

Monty screeched as the closest thing the animatronics felt to pain ripped through his head. He stumbled backwards, clutching at his eyes as the echoes of the camera light pulsed in blinding white.

“ARGH! Why you little—you took my fuckin' glasses!”

Through the haze of panic clouding Freddy's mind, the fact that Monty still cared more for his glasses than his actual eyesight made him wonder if the real gator was still in there deep down... That, or he was just completely insane. Either way, they could no longer appeal to Monty's morals—that was for sure.

With a final push of effort, Freddy soon clambered onto the catwalks and rushed towards the pair. Eyes locked onto their shared target, he was at Gregory’s side in a matter of seconds.

“Stay behind me,” Freddy commanded, stepping between the boy and the gator. As Monty began to recover, Freddy looked around for any way to stop him that didn't involve getting into a physical fight. Even with his fierce determination to protect Gregory, Freddy was hesitant to go hand to hand with those claws... Though of course he would if he had to.

At Freddy's request Gregory hid behind his leg, both knowing this solution wasn't permanent. When Monty's vision finally adjusted to the darkness again, Gregory waved the mangled shades he’d snatched from the ground.

“That's right!” he shouted, backing down the catwalk in an attempt to goad Monty towards him and give Freddy time to think. “I got your stupid glasses, nerd! You want ‘em? Come and get ‘em!”

Whether or not they truly had the upper hand was yet to be determined. Gregory vaguely wondered whether Monty, in his deluded obsession with the star-shaped shades, would think twice about jumping over the edge if he tossed his prized possession down below…

It was better than risking Freddy getting clawed open, for sure. Gregory could hardly feel the wide slice across his back due to the adrenaline, only the remnants of sticky crimson that seeped into the remains of his shirt.

Monty growled again, eyes wide with bloodlust so fierce he didn't even register who was in front of him until Freddy grasped him around the torso in an ironic bear hug. In response, Monty roared in the bear’s ear and screamed: “GET OFF ME! THAT KID IS DEAD MEAT!”

“NO, Monty!” Freddy exclaimed just as loudly, teeth clenched as he resisted the gator's strength with all his might. However, his feet started to slip backwards on the slick metal as Monty's bulk quickly overwhelmed him. Frantically, Freddy looked around for something—anything—that could save them—

And that's when he had a brilliant, if very risky idea.

“Gregory, can you still run?!” Freddy asked, though he didn't even wait for a response before giving his instructions. “Do you see that huge bucket with the flashing lights behind it? You need to fill it up! Use the guns around the catwalk and—Monty, stop resisting and stay still—shoot at the bucket! Trust me!”

He didn't have time to explain the rest, now solely focused on counteracting the gator's weight as he thrashed and snarled at Gregory. Monty was so lost in his madness that he couldn’t even process the others were discussing a way to take him down; he just wanted that little shit in his hands so he could rip him apart, voice in his head be damned.

Gregory had only just begun to register what exactly Freddy needed from him as he watched the scrabble with increasing horror. The distraction with the glasses allowed Freddy to grapple Monty, but the fighting gator wasn't giving up so easily. Rage barely contained within Freddy's arms threatened to break out and hurt all of them, so upon quickly locating one of the guns Gregory ran across the catwalks with purpose and direction.

After sliding in front of the closest turret, he took aim and fired for the Hole-in-One bucket. Every perfect shot rang out with an encouraging chime, the dings loud over the ambient music and the sounds of both Freddy and Monty struggling.

Based on how fiercely the bear was working to protect him, there was no doubt that Gregory wouldn't trust Freddy with his life at this point.

“Keep holding on! It's almost filled!” he shouted, moving onto the next gun and unloading its clip in near perfect succession. When the victory bell finally tolled, the heavy bucket began to lower.

Honestly a little shocked that Freddy was still holding Monty in place, Gregory screamed with concern pitching his voice high. “FREDDY! Drop him!”

It was a close call, that's for sure. The bear's legs were actually shaking with the effort of keeping Monty from rampaging after the child—if Gregory had taken even a minute longer, Freddy's knee joints would probably have snapped. However, victory was within their grasp and Freddy wasn't going to let Gregory suffer anymore at the hands of the rampaging bassist.

With a sudden burst of reserve strength, Monty was roughly shoved away. Caught off-guard, the gator stumbled backwards to land heavily on his back... right underneath the dumping area of the bucket. As the rainbow waterfall of plastic and foam rained down upon him, Monty instinctively held his arms up to stop the pail itself from crushing him.

At first, his strength seemed to be winning out—to Freddy's absolute horror, the bucket actually started to move back up upon Monty's pushing. Then, weakened from the gator's previous running around and recent jarring impact, the floor underneath him cracked open with an awful screech. Monty roared as he fell, though this was swiftly cut off as his torso hit a thick, metal beam on the way down. The impact was at just the right angle that combined with his already-compromised physical condition, the gator's body literally snapped in half, endoskeleton and all. Freddy pressed his paws to his mouth in shock as he watched the pieces of his old friend land unceremoniously on a little stage far below.

Monty's top half twitched once, twice... And then, finally, the gator was still.

What a horrendous way to go. It was the same path that Gregory had nearly taken—though he was sure his death wouldn't have been so clean.

After bending the earpieces of Monty's gifted shades to fit better, Gregory decided to put them on. He saw it as a trophy now, something he'd swiped from the animatronic that'd nearly taken his life twice. He slowly approached his stalwart protector, adrenaline still racing through his veins in the form of trembling aftershocks. Eventually he slipped his arms around Freddy's leg, the hug meant to be a comfort to them both.

Monty hadn’t been broken without reason—it was necessary to keep Gregory safe after all. The boy just hadn't realized the damage it might cause Freddy to see that happen firsthand.

“You saved me...” Gregory had meant to say thank you, though it seemed he was star-struck in a way. Too overwhelmed from nearly meeting his demise and dazed by Monty's gruesome end to properly thank the bear, his gratitude-filled hug would have to do.

Freddy simply stared down at the remains of Monty until he felt the hesitant embrace to his leg. Gregory's words snapped him out of whatever mental spiral he was falling into. He could grieve the loss of his friend later—and besides, Monty might not be gone forever. He was a robot whose personality could be salvaged and uploaded to a new body. Gregory, however, wouldn't have been so lucky had he gone over the railing instead.

“Oh, Gregory!” Freddy exclaimed, the emotion in his voice so raw it even startled him. He bent down to pull him into a proper hug, holding him as close as he dared. The boy was shaking with residual shock, pliant in Freddy's arms for a moment until he eventually squeezed back softly. “I was so worried that Monty was going to...” He trailed off with a shake of his head, not needing to think about that possibility and longer. “But are you okay?! Are you hurt?!”

Freddy pulled back slightly to perform a health scan, visually noting the absolutely shredded state of Gregory's shirt as he did so. The most concerning thing was the gash to his back, though thankfully it was shallow and had stopped actively bleeding for the most part. Other than that, somehow he'd only escaped with a few more bruises to add to his growing collection. Once assured that Gregory wasn't in immediate danger of a medical emergency, Freddy pulled him back into his arms.

“We saved each other, superstar,” he murmured, one arm securely around the boy’s torso and the other hand resting comfortingly on his head. “And I am going to continue protecting you until I can no longer function—you have my word. I will not let anything like this happen to you again.”

It was over. The danger had subsided for now. So why were there tears in Gregory's eyes?

…He knew why. Gregory could feel the worry, then immediate relief in Freddy's voice. He wasn't just some computer program that Gregory could pick apart. He was his friend. Someone who only had his best interests at heart.

For the first time in forever, Gregory could feel safe. No, not only that—

He felt loved.

“I'm fine!” he said through tears as the shock wore off. Thank goodness for the oversized shades; they covered most of the wet tracks on his cheeks and would hopefully keep his da—friend from worrying himself further, lest Gregory wanted him to burn out a circuit from the stress.

“You had me worried there, Freddy!” he attempted to joke, his grip tightening against the bear’s smooth metal casing. “I-I need you around, so don't… don’t go and break d-down on me, okay?”

“Of course,” Freddy replied gently, a smile tugging at his facial joints. Gregory wasn't one to state his true feelings so blatantly, but the bear understood the implication behind his words: he felt safe and trusted Freddy to take care of him.

And, really, that's all the overly sentient animatronic wanted in the end.

“Now, how about we get that access pass and return to the security office?” Freddy suggested, his voice soft and calm. Since the threat was gone, he'd already returned to his usual friendly demeanor. “We can stop by the gift shop on the way and get you a new shirt.” His eyes twinkled with an almost mischievous light. “And as this is a special circumstance, I suppose I can let you have your pick of anything else you might like from the gift shop as well, free of charge—toys included.”

He couldn't recall where that plushie went that Gregory had for all of five minutes. It’d probably been lost in the chaos of the arcade. Freddy knew that toys weren't ample compensation for everything Gregory had been through, but he'd looked so happy with that plushie when Charlie handed it over... He couldn't help wanting to see that sparkle in his eyes again, if only for a moment before the next terrifying event threatened to take everything away from them once more.

Gregory could also use a soda. With his receding adrenaline and the sugar crash impacting him from those cupcakes he had earlier, he was quickly tiring out—though the promise of a new toy had him smiling again. Letting go of Freddy was hard, but the big guy did need to walk and guide them through the dangerous Pizzaplex without Gregory being cumbersome.

“Yeah! This shirt was old anyway; I need a new Freddy plush, too…,” the boy agreed, forcing the waiver from his voice. He let out a little huff, realizing they must’ve left his other stuffed toy in a past security office. Was it surprising that Gregory would honestly go back for just the toy and to resupply his Freddy merch addiction after what he’d just been through?

Probably not with the way he’d begun to idolize the bear.

It was a careful descent down from the catwalk. Freddy wanted them to make a beeline for the exit after snagging the card, but Gregory had to see the full damage. Monty was busted until wires were exposed and his eyes rolled freely, disconnected from their optical joints. Even the guy’s strong hands were snapped off, the glint of Gregory’s blood shining on the sharp metal...

With quick movements of a seasoned thief, Gregory snagged the claws, fitting one in each deep pocket of his cargo shorts. Hopefully Freddy didn't see the looting of his late friend’s corpse, or Gregory was sure to hear an earful from his guardian.

Freddy was too distracted with examining the damage to Monty's lower half to notice the boy’s scheme. The access card to the higher-level security offices was laying near Monty's feet, having been tucked into some hidden compartment during their encounter. Though Monty was too far gone to actually offer them assistance, the fact that he did keep up his end of the stacked bargain caused a sharp pang in Freddy's chest. Maybe deep down, the real Monty had still been in there...

Hopefully he could be restored and brought back to himself someday. Perhaps in time, he and Gregory would even be able to build their relationship that'd been ripped to shreds before it could really even begin.

But for now, it was time to move on. Taking Gregory's hand, Freddy led them to the elevator and out of the golf course. They both squinted upon entering the bright lights of the atrium, though it was a welcome relief to be out of the black-lit darkness of Gator Golf.

A few minutes later, they'd entered the gift shop. As Gregory distracted himself with examining the multitude of shirt designs to choose from, Freddy went to the snack counter and grabbed a few bags of candy and soda—his earlier health scan indicated high adrenaline and lowering sugar levels, which Freddy knew would come back to bite them both if they didn't keep Gregory sustained. Obviously real food and water would be better, but for the time being this would have to do. Who knew how much longer this night was going to last...

There were a couple of shirt designs that Gregory was interested in. Some neat color-block and a cool Chica-themed vaporwave pattern stuck out to him. However, he didn't want to mess up a shirt he actually wanted.

When Gregory spied a grey and black striped tank top, soft and strong feeling, he went and tossed his old and ripped shirt in the trash before slipping the new one on instead. If Gregory got blood on this shirt, it’d be much harder to see should it stain.

It was a hop, skip and a jump away from a nearby cooler. Without thinking Gregory called for Freddy in the offhanded way of a distracted child.

“Hey, Dad, can I have a soda?” he asked, wholly unaware of what he’d just said as he perused the choices of drink. It might be messed up, but Gregory's next choice would be the lemon-lime Monty flavor.

“Yes, of course you ca—”

Freddy's jaw hung open mid-word as he processed what Gregory just called him. But... that wasn't right. Surely Gregory hadn't been addressing him, an animatronic bear as—

Dad.

Although, seeing as they were the only two beings in the room, Freddy had to concede that he was the only one Gregory could have posed that question to.

“Of course you can have a soda—any kind you like, superstar,” Freddy tried again, and the grin on his face could rival the sun.

There were many implications of this new title that Freddy would have to process later, but he could deal with that in time. He wouldn't acknowledge Gregory's words directly unless the boy brought up the topic himself, just in case it had been a slip of the tongue. Personally, though it might be selfish to think... Freddy hoped it hadn't been a mistake.

Yes, it was a slip! One that Gregory was ready to be embarrassed by. He wasn't sure why exactly—maybe it was years going by without a real father figure to look up to that made him hesitant to relinquish any true, raw emotion.

When Freddy didn't correct him Gregory's face flushed, feeling warm as he quickly grabbed the soda. The happy accident seemed to make him smile anyway. Gregory would think he was acting so cool and nonchalant about it, but to Freddy he was simply a bashful kid averting his eyes as he grinned at the circumstances they found themselves in.

“Thanks!” Gregory said cheerfully, desperately needing the caffeine boost. Seeing Freddy actually looking proud of him was so much to take in, though in time Gregory hoped to get used to that feeling. After grabbing a new Glamrock-themed plushie from a shelf, the pair were good to go.

As strange as the scenario was, Gregory liked to imagine that Freddy was his father as they walked from the store together—that it was the end of a long, fun-filled day and he didn't ache from being batted around by angry robots. For once he’d pretend that he’d been picking up souvenirs with his dad, ready to head home and fall asleep while sitting shotgun in his car. In actuality, Gregory would hold Freddy's hand all the way to the security office with his eyes half-closed in simulated bliss.

Once they’d locked themselves inside the office again, Freddy had two immediate goals: patch up Gregory’s wound and charge his battery. He’d lost quite a bit of power holding Monty back, and Freddy was grateful Michael had the foresight to locate his manual charging cord in the midst of all this madness.

Speaking of the old ghost… as Freddy coaxed Gregory into letting him clean and bandage the gash in his back using a nearby first aid kit, the bear couldn’t help but wonder what Mike and Charlie were up to now. Had they been able to locate Michael’s “father?”

And what did their whole situation really mean, anyway?

Freddy and Gregory had been focused on such tangible goals as getting access cards and stopping rogue gators, they hadn’t had time to dwell on the night’s more existential questions.

[1] Go.

[2] Catch the boy. Use force if necessary, but don’t kill him yet. GET HIM!

Chapter Text

Caution turn back now
There are secrets that will be unwound
They will drag you down…

You don't have to stay
Endure the curse we can't escape
Before your world breaks
Turn back

~Turn Back by Tryhardninja~

Michael, for his part, was slowly losing his mind with frustration.

“Damn it!” he cursed for about the three hundredth time. The loose wire in his hand had yet again slipped just as he was about to lock it in place. He was having trouble adjusting to the animatronic paws more than he thought he would—not to mention he only had one of them to work with. “Ugh… I hate to do this, Charlie, but I might need to get Freddy and Gregory to help fix you up.”

The fox grimaced at the thought of leaving his friend vulnerable and alone, but honestly he couldn’t think of another solution. He had the knowledge to repair Puppet, but not the physicality to do so. Mike met Charlie’s gaze as best he could, wanting her express approval—if she said no, he’d stay right by her side without question.

“Since you're already hooked up to everything, will you be okay if I grab the others? It shouldn’t take me long.”

Charlie was more than fine with being alone. Up against slower animatronics she knew she had every one of them beat, and even with her current status she knew she’d be alright sitting idly inside the protective cylinder for a bit. With her voice box connection reestablished, Charlie could properly speak to her friend.

“Go—but be careful, Michael,” she warned him. “Don't go looking for fights. Focus on finding Freddy and Gregory.”

She wasn't telling him not to fight William if he had to. But if it led him off the path from his goal, Charlie hoped that her friend wouldn't fall for the same trick twice.

“Deal.” Michael cracked a grin and gave Charlie a slightly awkward high five due to her positioning. “I’ll be right back.”

He exited the cylinder and moved to the computer—a little dated by today’s standards, though Michael didn’t seem to notice. After activating the command prompt to lock Charlie in, he gave her a final wave and headed back towards Roxy’s service elevator. As the metal box made its painstakingly slow ascent, Michael tried to think of how he could apologize to Gregory for scaring him earlier with his little freak-out…

In the meantime, Charlie was left alone with her thoughts. There was so much that’d happened since she woke up, and it’d only been a few hours. How was one meant process it all?

Tonight was the first night she felt like she’d truly been active in the hunt for William Afton—yet her job involved keeping a child she barely knew alive. Normally her Gifts and generosity were displayed only after death, and she knew that letting the murderous rabbit-man take Gregory would only lead down the road to more trouble for her and Michael. Not to mention Freddy, the confused AI who’d been tossed into the middle along with the hapless kid.

Charlie was happy the two had each other for the time being. No one deserved to be alone in a place like this.

***

Freddy was in the midst of charging when he noticed a flash of movement in one of the camera feeds.

“Gregory, pay attention the monitors,” the bear said, meeting the boy’s gaze as he was about to shove a handful of candy in his mouth. “Someone is approaching.”

“Mph?” Gregory had been sucking down sour candies and soda until he had acid burns on his tongue and cheek. Flicking his eyes towards the screen, Gregory squinted before shouting and nearly spitting out his Toxic Bunny Gummies.

“Michael's back!” he said excitedly, keeping an eye out for Puppet. Any second now...

Gregory’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched Michael make it to the door. He readily opened it to let the old pirate inside, only to question him immediately with concern filling his expression and tone. “Where's Charlie?”

Before Michael could answer, he was stunned into silence by the sight of the child in front of him. Orange, robotic eyes widened in shock as he took in the boy’s features: short, slightly unruly brown hair; huge hazel eyes that stared up at him questioningly, expecting him to have all the answers as big brothers should; the black tank top with grey stripes, no longer stained with blood from that horrible day…

“Ev… Evan?!” Michael whispered, his voice soft and pained. He took a step forward, reaching out hesitantly as if the specter would disappear if he moved too fast.

How had his little brother gotten here, of all places? And why?

Gregory tilted his head at the reaction. Evan? Who the hell was Evan?

Though weirded out, Gregory wasn't necessarily afraid of Michael in that moment. The poor guy seemed to have gone through a lot as well, and Gregory didn’t want to accidentally upset or insult him when Mike was looking at him with such genuine affection. Glancing back at Freddy briefly to make sure the bear thought it was okay before consoling him, Gregory soon reached out and grasped Michael's hand.

“Come inside, buddy, there you go...,” Gregory guided, making sure to hit the security door's button on the way in. Obviously Michael was shaken. Having a human soul inside the lumbering metal suit must affect him differently than the other animatronics, his feelings and mental state making him act as a real person under extreme duress might. That much Gregory could understand.

But who was Evan?

“Um… what happened, Mike?” Gregory attempted to ask again.

“What happened…?” Michael’s gaze was locked into his brother, unable to process the reality of what he was seeing. “Evan, you… y-you look so… normal…”

And not like you got your head bitten off at all! …was the part he left out.

With that thought, the cloud of hazy confusion cleared and Michael saw the boy for who he truly was: Gregory, his new friend who he was desperately trying to save from meeting his father and, in effect, the same fate as all the other kids William had killed in his twisted attempt to save the brother in question.

“Oh… Gregory, I’m sorry,” Michael apologized, shaking his head slowly. “It’s just… you look so much like someone I used to know, especially with that shirt. Guess I got a little confused—brain's still kinda funky." He knocked a fist against Foxy's skull. "I’m okay.”

Freddy simply watched this interaction with a calculating expression, analyzing Michael’s strange reaction. The name “Evan” was vaguely familiar to his memory banks—perhaps someone related to the ghost, judging by his emotional response?

“You don't have to be sorry,” Gregory said, reaching up and scratching the back of his neck. This wasn't the first time the name slipped out, and  Gregory got the feeling that this Evan was someone close to Michael’s heart… Someone perhaps no longer with them on the mortal plane account of the “normal” comment. There was no harm done by the mistake, only a bit of confusion. “I'm glad you're okay—do you know where Charlie went?”

He’d refrain from asking more details on the stranger, fearing it may be too much for this anxiety-riddled spirit. Gregory released Michael's hand with a flex of his fist, trying to keep his tone calm as he feared for the location of their seemingly lost friend.

“Yeah—she’s okay, too.” Michael paused, teeth clenched tightly for a moment before he added: “Well, mostly. We… had an incident with the person responsible for this whole thing, and Charlie got hurt trying to protect Vanessa.”

“What?!” Freddy exclaimed, standing up so fast he accidentally pulled the charging cord out of his side. “Where is she?!”

“She’s down in Parts & Service—I sealed her in the protective cylinder.” Michael sighed and held up his palm placatingly. “Geez, I didn’t want to worry you both too much—like I said, she’ll be fine. She just needs to be fixed up a bit.” Here offered the pair a hopeful smile. “That’s actually why I came looking for you. I can only do so much with one paw and a hook… so we were wondering if you can help with Charlie’s repairs?”

“Easy, easy!” Gregory looked to Freddy, mirroring Michael’s gesture in holding up both hands to his riled-up father figure. Even so, Mike's words certainly gave cause for alarm if Charlie was inside that tube all locked up and alone.

The fact that she’d put her body on the line for someone like Vanessa was even stranger. Then again, it just showed Gregory how different they were, as he wouldn't have thought twice about leaving the night guard to her fate if it came down to her life or his. Not after the hell she’d deliberately put them all through…

At the chance to dig around inside the Puppet and figure out how that old model really worked, Gregory jumped to attention.

“I can help! Can I help Mike out with fixing Charlie? Please, Freddy?” he begged, as if he could already tell the bear would be more likened to warn him it was dangerous.

“It is dangerous to mess around with animatronic systems you do not understand, Gregory,” Freddy replied, just as the boy predicted. “I will take on the repairs; I upgraded her once before with spare parts from the Daycare attendant.”

“Ohhh!” Michael smacked the blunt side of his hook to his forehead as realization suddenly hit. “That’s why her legs are different! Man, that’s been driving me crazy all night!”

“You may need to guide me if the repairs are more internal, though,” Freddy added, smiling slightly at the man’s enthusiasm for robotics. “Since Charlie is an older model, I do not know if my mental blueprints of the Daycare attendant match well enough with her internal systems.”

“Yeah… see, that’s the thing, Freddy…” Michael trailed off, his gaze shifting away from the bear. He knew Freddy wasn’t going to be happy with what he was about to say next, especially since he seemed so weirdly parental towards Gregory—more so than before, that’s for sure.

What happened while Michael was away?

“Charlie’s design is made up a lot of parts—small parts. I’m not sure if your claws can handle the finer work as well as someone else might be able to.” Michael jerked his chin towards Gregory.

When the ghost still requested his help, Gregory tapped Freddy’s leg with pleading eyes.“Pleeeeease, I promise I'll be extra careful! I just wanna help Charlie.”

What’s the worst that could happen? Gregory thought. His finger may get pinched, but surely Charlie wasn't going to attack him should he fix her incorrectly. That just seemed so overtly cruel and nothing like the Puppet he knew.

“What's wrong with her anyway?” Gregory asked, left in the dark since he wasn't there to witness William delivering a crushing kick to the side of her head earlier.

“She, um… hit a wall,” Michael explained, deciding to spare the more graphic details for now. “Her head and neck are still pretty banged-up, though I did manage to fix her voice box. It got too hard for me with this darn hook after that.”

He then turned to Freddy and gave him the biggest puppy dog eyes this fox-robot was capable of. In an echo of Gregory’s words, Michael asked: “Please, Freddy? We’ll both be right there as back-up, although I’m sure Charlie would never snap at anyone.”

Freddy narrowed his eyes at Michael for a moment before relenting with a heavy sigh. “…Alright. But if there is any sign of danger, I am pulling Gregory right out of there.”

“Aye aye, captain!” Michael gave the bear a salute, then chuckled to himself.

How strange it was to be asking permission from an animatronic—and from the Freddy Fazbear, no less. Oh what a turn this afterlife had taken.

Even if Gregory knew the technical reasons as to why Fazbear was never corrupted, he still liked to chalk it up to Freddy just being so cool—so genuinely good deep in his programming—that nothing evil could change him. That’s why he’d listen to the big guy.

Well, that and because his naturally doting nature was something Gregory sorely needed and had already become drawn to.

Happy to see Michael on board and confident in their plan, Gregory shook Foxy’s arm playfully. “No time to waste!”

He checked through the cameras one last time, slurping down the rest of his Toxic Bunny Gummies and discarding the packaging with Bonnie's face on it inside the trash. With no one unsavory coming their way Gregory went to Freddy's side, immediately taking the bear’s hand. After only a second of thought, he offered his free palm to Michael as well. Gregory was on a sugar rush, and felt encouraged to be a bit more sociable.

“Lead the way! I'm stoked to see how you put her back together again,” he remarked with barely-contained excitement.

Michael was quick to take the offered hand, pleased that he’d officially been accepted into the boy’s good graces. Whatever scares he might’ve given him earlier were long-forgotten it seemed, and Mike was more than willing to take this new friendship at the kid’s pace.

Before leaving the comfort of the security office Freddy and Michael locked eyes, and in a moment of perfect robotic synchronization lifted Gregory up by the arms. Combined, they made a sort of makeshift jungle gym that Gregory could swing his legs from, giggling the whole time. After the boy was placed back on solid ground, the trio set off for Parts & Service once again with a renewed a pep in their step.

The lift-off had given Gregory a moment of pure, childhood glee. His legs kicked the air as he laughed at their shared antics. After tonight, Gregory knew he couldn't be caught by his foster parents—because if anyone who wanted to adopt him weren't the friendly robots of the Fazbear Pizzaplex, he didn't want them to be his family.

They knew exactly what it took to put a smile on his face, and in return Gregory cared for them with all the fierceness his young soul could muster.

Once returned to Earth he yet again slipped into to his fantasy land, just roaming the mall before closing with his father and brother.

“Don't forget, guys,” Gregory mentioned as they entered the backrooms. “Freddy Junior is in the last security office we were in.” He’d put the tiny plushie to work watching the cameras, somehow a little convinced that even the stuffed toys had some level of sentience to them.

It wasn't long before they approached the Parts & Service maintenance chamber. Gregory ran, letting go of the others to unlock the terminal for them. “Charlie? How are you feeling?”

The Puppet raised a silent hand, pointing a thumb up to the sky. Perhaps it was sarcastic, but at least she still had her sense of humor about her.

“Alright, let’s turn you into a bona fide mini-mechanic,” Michael said with a sharp-toothed grin, ushering Gregory and Freddy into the cylinder.

Freddy lingered near in the doorway, arms crossed as he kept half his attention on Charlie’s repairs and the other half on watch for the likes of Moon. Michael could feel the bear’s eyes burning into the back of his metal skull as he carefully hoisted Gregory up to place him on top of Charlie’s chest—it was the only way the boy could reach all the internal mechanisms without someone trying to steadily hold him.

But damn… the usual protective nature of the bear had been amped up to something fierce. Freddy was practically vibrating with worry as Gregory got to work fixing Charlie’s neck joints. Honestly, Michael wouldn’t be surprised if Freddy was vibrating—at one point he turned to check, but Freddy’s gaze snapped him back to Gregory in an instant.

Keep my full attention on the kid—got it, he thought, returning to the task at hand. That wasn’t hard to do though, since Gregory’s natural mechanical prowess with the animatronic both fascinated and amazed Michael to no end.

He had a knack for knowing how these parts fit together, that’s for sure. Gregory had never considered himself a whiz at school, and the guidance counselors all agreed even with his young age that the best idea for him was to join a trade due to his less than stellar grades. Gregory had reluctantly agreed, though it wasn’t like the words didn't sting or he wasn't trying his hardest. Sitting in class trying to learn the ancient history just didn’t seem all that important compared to the stressors in his life.

However, after what he’d already been through, seeing himself as a mechanic became a more viable future now should they all survive tonight.

“So these pieces go together like that and uh... Hm. I need the ratchet. These tension rods are loose.” Gregory murmured as he worked, holding out his hand like a doctor requesting tools from his nurse. Once acquiring the tool, Gregory leaned away from Puppet’s open face plate. “Charlie, can you move your neck?”

She was indeed able to bend her neck with a better range of motion than before. It appeared that she’d been in desperate need for a tune-up for a long time, hence why that kick seemed to knock everything loose in her head. Besides from that some of her old parts were rusted, the odd, flakey brown coating her endoskeleton from her face down to her chest.

“It sucks we don't have parts to replace the mask... Sorry, Charlie,” Gregory said as Michael guided him through the extremely specific manner in which Puppet needed to be closed up.

“Don't worry so much—you helped tons!” Charlie encouraged, looking to Freddy from where she was strapped down on the table. “Thanks, everyone. I think I would’ve been out for the night without you.”

“Of course, Charlie; we are happy to help,” Freddy responded, his expression returning to its default smile now that any immediate danger to Gregory was past. He stepped closer to lift the boy up and give him an encouraging squeeze. “Well done, superstar!”

“Yeah, you’re awesome at this!” Michael added, helping Charlie sit up. He gave a soft laugh, though it was tinged with an emotion that was hard to place. “I learned about all this stuff when I was young, too; I had a knack for it, or so my—” He paused, wincing as if the memory physically pained him. “—er, so I’ve been told.”

Long nights staying up way past his bedtime to help his dad repair animatronics… at first Michael had enjoyed it, despite how tired he’d feel the next day. It was one of the few times he truly felt like he could bond with William, both of them working together in their shared element to fix up robots and chattering about everything and nothing as they did so.

It all changed after ‘83, of course—as with everything else, William’s work took on an entirely new aspect that no one understood until it was far too late. Eventually, Michael was left alone to work on the robots he now despised while his father holed up in office doing god knows what…

William’s praise could still be heard echoing unintentionally in the words that Michael said to Gregory. Maybe they weren't exactly the same, but the same pride in their craft had been there—the ghost of Will's influence still haunting them all.

“You're a natural at this!”

“You're going to work with Dad when you're old enough, yeah?”

“Well done, sport...”

It was a shame. All that William taught Michael brought bittersweet memories now. Who even knew if the man remembered those times fondly, or if he’d only ever seen his eldest as a means to an end?

But in the here and now, Gregory beamed with joy at the praise just as Michael had many years ago, so eager to please as he reveled in Freddy's hold.

“Thanks, guys! Anytime you need help, I can try my best to fix you. It's the least I can do,” Gregory said, as if he had to pay back the kindness his friends had given him.

After Charlie sat up, flexing her limbs to feel blessed oil coat her pistons and gears, she looked to Gregory with a smile in her voice. “We look after each other. It's what friends do.”

It was a reminder to everyone that their friendships weren’t give and take. They were an unconditional love. Help would be there whether it was returned or not.

Freddy nodded in thanks to the ghosts for their words as he adjusted Gregory into an easy, one-armed hold against his hip. “Let us return to the office; there are many things we need to discuss."

The statement wasn’t up for debate. They’d wasted too much time barely missing each other and avoiding close calls—they needed to actually sit down and talk to see if they could figure out how to get rid of this threat.

Michael seemed eager to do so as the group began heading towards the elevator. Or, at least he was curious as to what Freddy and Gregory had been up to in his and Charlie’s absence.

“So why did you guys leave the office?” the fox asked. “I doubt it was just to get a new shirt and some toys.”

Maybe the boy needed more food? Although they didn’t have to go all the way to the gift shop just for that, with vending machines lining nearly every wall of the Pizzaplex.

“We wanted to collect other access cards,” Freddy explained over his shoulder. “We did manage to acquire one after some… considerable effort on both our parts.”

And there was that AI working again, trying to smooth over the harsher details so his friends wouldn’t worry so much. The bear would share more if prompted, but to extract the most gruesome details was a bit like pulling teeth.

“I killed an alligator,” Gregory filled the others in after a beat, speaking somewhat distantly. He wasn’t afraid to share the more sordid portions of their adventure, although he wondered if it was poorly timed until he got a reaction from Charlie.

“An ali—Gregory, are you saying that Monty is... decommissioned?” Charlie asked, slow and delicate.

“Yeah. He was being a scary... jerk,” Gregory replied, avoiding cursing Monty's name with the presence of Freddy. There was no need to upset his dad even more than he probably was. “That's okay though—now that he is out of order, I can figure out how to fix him without him hurting us.”

Or at least, that was Gregory's hope. Something to give back to Freddy who’d been sacrificing so much for his safety.

“Gosh...” Charlie breathed out a simulated exhale, looking between the others. “I'm really sorry. That must’ve been scary...”

She wondered how Freddy was dealing with it, though the hardness in his eyes said that things were definitely being processed internally. Maybe something to ask at the office.

“Monty almost—” Freddy couldn’t quite finish the sentence.

They stepped into the elevator and he used the few-second distraction of pushing the button to reign in his emotions. The situation had been scary—far scarier than he hoped Charlie or Michael would ever have to experience.

“Monty was too far gone,” Freddy tried again, choosing his words carefully. It was still hard for him to think about the gator’s body snapped in two and lying prone on the little stage.

Monty had played a personal birthday concert for a child on that very platform just days before while Freddy watched with the crowd. It was part of the Super Mega Deluxe Fazbear Birthday Bash package where parents could pick an animatronic to visit with the children and play a concert during their assigned party hours. Freddy recalled Monty’s grinning face as he worked the stage, so happy in his element and loving nothing more than hearing the kids’ happy cheers.

Staring hard at the ground, Freddy’s voice soft and tinged with regret. “He… he was going to kill Gregory if we did not stop him. But still, I…”

“Hey—it’s alright, Freddy.” Michael gripped the bear’s shoulder tightly. “Gregory’s okay, so… try not to dwell on it. That’s not… it’s not going to help any of us if you get stuck in the past.”

The irony of his words wasn't lost on him—he’d thought his brother was standing right in front of him not thirty minutes earlier. But Mike had been just a kid when the incident that would come to haunt his life took place. Freddy was still a robot at his core, and they couldn’t afford for him to lose that logical nature—no matter how fascinating it was to see the bear’s AI transform into something not fully comprehensible right before their eyes.

Perhaps these AI's weren’t meant for meaningful human interaction. It appeared to change them so drastically in such short time. Freddy was having complex emotions that his CPU worked overtime to handle. Being around someone who saw him as a father figure was turning him into one—a slippery slope and no one’s fault, even if Michael unintentionally kick-started the process.

Who knew—maybe it would’ve happened with the other animatronics eventually were they not infected by William Afton's foul corruption.

Back to the security office they went. Charlie watched as Gregory let himself inside with the pass, waiting for his friends to go through the door before locking them inside again. These rooms were quickly becoming little sanctuaries for him, full of hordes of snacks and watchful Freddy plushies for him to sit down and relax with. After making sure everyone was settled, Charlie glanced at the animatronic bear.

“We have a lot to explain,” she began, craning her head down as if sorry she didn't tell Freddy any of this earlier.

“I am guessing the fact that you are the children of Henry Emily and William Afton have something to do with this whole situation, right?” Freddy asked, his tone measured and calm. Michael’s wide-eyed gaze flickered to his, jaw hung open uselessly for a second.

“How did you—oh.” Michael sighed, realizing that of course the super-computer would be able to piece even the most random bits of information together. “You’ve probably got some history installed in those memory banks, huh? Yes, you’re right—she’s Charlie Emily and I’m Michael… Afton.”

He was so far removed from his father that the name felt dirty and foreign on his tongue. Still, he pushed on. “You don’t, uh—or, I should say: what do you know about us? About our… past?”

“Not much,” Freddy admitted. “The information in my databanks regarding company history is extremely limited. All I can confirm is that, out of the combined five children between Henry and William’s families, only one is still, ah… with us.” Freddy’s tone softened to one of utmost sympathy. “All the others either went missing or perished at a young age. Michael, you were reported to be the oldest to survive until you went missing about… thirty-odd years ago.”

Michael could only nod dully in confirmation. Hearing it recited so blatantly made him feel strangely numb.

Charlie was staring hard at the ground as well. It was odd being part of the statistic. Just another missing person from the old, out of commission diners. As she processed what Freddy said she began to pace, her long limbs more so sliding on the slick tile floor than actually walking.  

“The living one—their name wouldn't happen to be Sammy, right?” Charlie wondered aloud. There wasn’t any point hiding things anymore, so deciding to be more open and honest she clarified in case the others didn’t know: “He’s my brother. Wouldn't that be swell to see him again, Mike?”

She wondered if they’d still have anything in common. They were twins, but not necessarily close. At least, they hadn’t been right before Charlie’s untimely demise.

“So… your dads made this place then, right?” Gregory asked, making sure he was following everything correctly. After Charlie confirmed with a nod, Gregory looked sympathetic. If the other locations were anything like this one, he wasn't surprised these guys died really young.

…Not that he’d say that out loud, as it’d probably only serve to make them feel bad. The goal was to get these ghosts to give up their secrets, not to make them more guarded and defensive than they already were.

“Sammy Emily is the current CEO of Fazbear Entertainment,” Freddy said in response Charlie’s question. “I believe he inherited the company a few years ago and is the one responsible for commissioning the Pizzaplex we now inhabit.”

“No wonder you guys have a Safe Mode,” Michael muttered somewhat bitterly. “Once our dads parted ways, Henry’s restaurants were always safer—at least, that’s what I gathered from the lack of negative press. I mostly worked in William’s franchises, which were the opposite of harmless...”

He clenched his jaw again, teeth grinding together slightly until he felt Charlie’s comforting hand on his shoulder. He looked to her, offering a grateful smile before shifting his gaze to Gregory.

“My brother’s name was Evan,” Michael explained, his tone wistful as he tried only to think of fond memories. “You look a lot like him, Gregory—honestly, if he’d gotten a few years older, you two could be twins.”

He’d leave out the part of Gregory now wearing almost the same shirt he’d watched his brother get mangled in; that wasn’t a detail the boy needed to know right now, if ever.

Maybe some folks would be freaked out when their looks were compared to that of a dead kid’s. Yet Gregory felt sympathy more than anything. What do you say to a man who just told you that you look like his deceased brother?

I'm sorry?

Somehow, that didn’t feel like it’d cut it.

As Charlie calmed Michael with a grounding touch to his arm, in the spirit of attempting to cheer him up Gregory remarked: “Dang… your brother must’ve been a good looking dude!”

Gregory thought it was just such an unexpected comment that Mike would get a kick out of it. Charlie found herself raising a hand over her cracked mask's mouth, futile in hiding the giggle that came out.

Even so, she was still processing that for some odd reason Sammy decided he wanted to keep this nightmare franchise alive. How could he still have fond memories of this place? Perhaps he just didn't want their father's legacy to end with the unsolved murders of so many children.

Unfortunately here they were, down the same destructive path in William's latest killing spree.

“When this is all said and done, you and me are gonna find my brother,” Charlie murmured, leaning into Michael’s side. “I'd like to ask him a few questions...”

Hopefully she didn’t give poor Sammy a heart attack with the state she was in before he could answer them.

“I’m with you on that one,” Michael agreed, still wearing a grin from Gregory’s little joke. However, this small joy faded upon Freddy’s next pointed question.

“This may not be a topic that is easy to discuss, but… I think it is critical for our understanding of this situation,” the animatronic began, trying to keep his words as gentle as possible. He gave Mike and Charlie a moment to prepare before asking: “Can you tell us why you have come back to us? Do you… know why all of this is happening?”

The room was silent for quite a while. The tension rose thick and heavy in the air, nearly stifling before Michael eventually managed to get out two simple words that said both nothing and everything at once.

“My father.”

Charlie felt the need to step in. It was a sore spot for her friend to speak on, and she just hoped she didn't overstep his boundaries by taking charge and explaining their predicament.

“This may be surprising to you both based on what you might’ve heard from Fazbear Entertainment’s selective history,” she began, staying by Michael for emotional support as she recalled the events that brought them both here. “But William Afton is a bad person. In his pursuit of reanimating his family, he went totally insane—murdering children to achieve his goal. We're here to stop him.”

Originally, it’d been hard condensing decades of pain and torment into a few sentences. After so much time and all the things she’d seen, Charlie had become jaded by her own death and the circumstances surrounding it.

“Now that William’s back again, he’s controlling Vanessa and kidnapping more kids. Gregory was going to be one of them—it's why all the animatronics have gone psycho,” Charlie revealed, her blank gaze swiveling between the boy and his guardian robot.

Gregory was balling his fists at his sides, knuckles long gone white as he stressed thinking about how everything here expected him to be dead by the end of the night. The only things in the building he could trust were the people before him right now.

“I physically can’t rest until William's killing spree has ended for good,” Charlie concluded, looking to Michael then and assuring it was alright to continue. When he seemed no more distressed than before, she further explained his own predicament. “The last time I remember seeing Mike, we were in a fire that burned down the building we were trapped inside. Another robot, Lefty, saved my body. Unfortunately, Michael's perished in the flames with my dad…”

That was the night she realized who he was, that man on the tapes echoing through the halls of the franchise Michael was suspiciously able to own with no background check or proof of ID. It was Henry—her father—just wanting to set their souls free. By the time Charlie figured out the awful truth it was too late to stop them, or save either one.

At that moment in time, their chapters had ended... Or so they’d thought.

“I am… so sorry,” was all Freddy could say. His emotional capacity had expanded greatly in the past few hours, but nothing could prepare him for this.

For arguably the first time in his existence, the friendly bear genuinely didn’t know how to respond. So, instead he defaulted to what he could do—attempt to provide comfort, however minimal.

“What happened to you both is… incomprehensible,” Freddy continued slowly, reaching out to take one of Michael’s and Charlie’s hands in his own. He squeezed them gently, reassurance practically radiating from the paternal animatronic. “But you no longer have to deal with this by yourselves; I will help you.” He caught sight of Gregory in the corner of his eye and gestured the boy closer with his chin. “We will help you. William will not get away with his horrendous acts any longer.”

To harm someone—to kill them, let alone a child, was completely out of the realm of Freddy’s understanding. But to kill multiple children?

That was, as he said, incomprehensible.

Michael simply nodded, returning the squeeze to his hand. He still couldn’t speak—not yet—and he appreciated Charlie taking the lead with the explanation. Even after all this time, she was still looking out for him. Mike knew he’d never be able to truly express how much he appreciated his dear friend, so for now he wrapped his free arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a side hug.

Charlie would always regret not remembering Michael for their first few encounters after her death. The way she tormented her old friend along with the others under the absolutely wrong conviction that he was William would haunt her until her soul stopped roaming the planet.

But the moments like these, where Freddy held her hand and told her she no longer had to bear the weight of everyone's burdens—or when Michael pulled her in close enough that she forgot they were dead… these moments made it all worth it.

Charlie rested her head on the fox’s shoulder, nuzzling the soft, cerulean coat. She couldn't care more about herself than she did about her friends. She was sure to hear an earful were she to say that out loud.

“We'll have to figure out where he went. The old fart could be anywhere,” she murmured quietly.

“Maybe I could help. I have a bone to pick with him, too,” Gregory reminded them, swiveling around the office chair to show off the security feeds. “There’s cameras all over the place. Even if we don't see him, we might be able to catch what the others are up to and track him like that!”

“Good plan, Gregory!” Michael perked up at the thought of doing something more active than talking in regards to stopping his father. He carefully detangled himself from the others, moving to lean on the desk next to Gregory’s chair.

“You know, I’ve had quite a bit of experience looking for animatronics through cameras just like this,” Michael told the boy, scanning the feeds for any wayward robots. Now that Gregory was aware somewhat of his past, Michael could share even more tips and tricks with him. “These feeds are nice, though—so crisp and clear, at least compared to what I’m used to… In one place I worked at, half of them didn’t even work! And when I complained, I was told ‘good luck fixing them,’ and…”

Freddy settled next to Charlie’s side as Michael rambled, watching Gregory’s expression change to that of rapt interest as his new friend talked about the “old days.” The bear let out a soft chuckle, glancing at Charlie.

“They seem to get along extraordinarily well,” he commented, a hint of relief in his tone. “I am glad.”

“Michael's one of the best guys I know,” Charlie vouched in a whisper, Mike technically being one of the only guys she knew on more than a surface level. Henry was overly protective as a father, and the only boys Charlie was allowed to have over were Michael and his brother. That didn't mean she hadn't made other friends over time, but naturally she had a pretty in-depth view as to who Mike was morally—even through his shitty teen years.

“Don't tell him I told you that. It'll go right to his head.” Charlie laughed beside Freddy, leaning into him with a little nudge, and the bear chuckled right along with her. Though he didn’t know all the details, she and Michael had been through some horrible things in both life and death. Freddy was glad they’d somehow retained their ethics and humor, despite it all.

“Not to be a jerk—” Gregory remarked, showing Michael the path they were working out to scout for William on. “—but those places sound like dumps! Why the heck did you even work there?”

“No offense taken; those places were shi—” Michael suddenly felt a set of eyes locked onto his back and quickly diverted his curse. “Uh, super gross, is what I meant to say. Growing up I worked there because my father was one of the owners… although I’m not sure how much you could consider it ‘working’ as opposed to free labor.”

His fluffy tail swished slowly to relieve tension from both Freddy’s residual glare and the memories brought up from his current conversation. “Once I was older, I only stayed because I felt like I had to. I… I needed to track down William and figure out what was going on. For a while, I didn’t know what he’d actually done, just that it… wasn’t good.” He sighed a heavily, the breath sounding so real in his non-computerized voice. “Trust me, if I could’ve done anything else, I would’ve in a heartbeat.”

Charlie had admired Michael's ability to have kept going. She only kept up her revenge fantasy because—well, she was dead. It's not like she would’ve been wasting her life hunting William down. It soon became her only purpose.

Michael, though? He could’ve moved away, escaped this hellhole of a town and never looked back.

But he didn’t. The guilt of his past mistakes and the death of his siblings and friends weighed too heavily on his soul.

“What would you have done? If you could do anything?” Gregory asked, wondering if anyone ever asked Michael such a thing.

The only one who had was his Uncle Henry… but even then, Michael had still been too young at the time to really understand, answering with something generic like a doctor or a teacher. But neither of those things felt the right career path back then, and they still didn’t now.

“I… don’t know,” Michael admitted slowly. “I’ve never given it serious thought before—my life was so… set.”

Why should I get to have a life anyway, when Evan and Lizzie didn’t?

The thought crept into Michael’s mind, exhausting in its familiarity. He’d been haunted by this notion since the death of his brother at his hands, and it only became more prevalent one Elizabeth was taken away from him, too. He didn’t deserve to survive as opposed to them; it should’ve been him inside those animatronics, mangled and twisted and—

Well, he’d gotten his wish eventually, in a roundabout way—and he’d sure suffered before his actual, physical death. The memories of Ennard's wires snaking around tendons and bone would be with him until the end of days.

And now here Michael was, bonded to an animatronic just like his siblings and best friend. He’d come full-circle.

With the weary gaze of one who’s seen far too much, Mike looked at Gregory and tried to distract from his own thoughts. “Anyway, what do you want to do when you get older? Surely a smart, resourceful kid like you must have some big plans.”

Gregory hummed at that. Maybe Michael was supposed to be in this thing. He didn't really believe in fate, but Gregory thought that people kind of set the foundations for their lives pretty early on. Sometimes those foundations were harder to knock down and rebuild than others.

“My foster mom said I'd be a good grifter,” Gregory stated. The statement didn't hurt him anymore. Honestly, she probably wasn't wrong.

But even then, every word that she told him made Gregory want to throw something heavy at her. He was so angry for such a small kid. It was a miracle he'd met Freddy, Michael, and Charlie. Without their kindness, he likely wouldn't have a chance to see his potential and may have gone down a similar to path to the eldest Afton during his teen years.

“—I don't know," he concluded, clicking his way through the feeds once more. “Maybe a mechanic. Or something with coding. My teacher says I'm really good at coding.”

Slowly he formed a plan in his mind. It was pretty solid, he thought, though he’d probably need both Mike and Charlie's help convincing Freddy to go along with it.

“Okay! So, in order to find Michael's lame dad, I made a two different routes,” he explained, looking between the others as he spoke. “We'll split up in two's again—Mike and me, Freddy and Charlie. Freddy and Charlie, you guys are gonna stop by Parts & Service to upgrade Freddy's hands. He'll need to be stronger in case we run into Vanny or William.”

Gregory braced himself for the line of questioning to follow. As in, how were they going to upgrade Freddy to begin with? In preparation, he’d already begun digging into his pockets to carefully extract Monty's claws.

The boy had moved on before anyone could address the nonchalant comment from his foster mother. Freddy filed this away for future reference as potential reasoning for why Gregory should stay with him. As Gregory outlined his plan, the bear’s face twisted into mild concern.

“We are not splitting up, Gregory,” he countered immediately. “I am not going to leave your side after what just happened with Monty.” His eyes flickered to the fox, who stared at him with the closest thing he had to a raised eyebrow. “Ah… No offense, Michael. I am certain you can protect him, too. It is just—”

“No, I get it!” Michael held up his palm and hook placatingly, nodding in understanding. “You just want to protect your kid, Freddy; it’s in your programming.” Whether he’d meant to say “your kid” instead of “the kid”, Michael would leave for everyone else to guess. He cracked a grin and chuckled. “Plus, you’re just a really good guy—er, bear. Whatever.”

“Thank you.” Freddy returned his smile, then refocused on Gregory. “Besides, regardless of whether we stay together, I do not know of any upgrades that might—what did you just pull out of your pockets?!”

The objects in Gregory’s hands were clear as day, though Freddy was horrified at the sight of them.

“Freddy, I know how this looks. But I took them because... I was thinking ahead,” Gregory attempted to explain, gently placing the hands on the desk. “You know those cyclone barriers with the ‘No Monty’ signs all over the place? Only his claws can smash through them, and who knows what's on the other side! I'm guessing Michael's dad is behind those things.”

Gregory glanced down at his shoes. Freddy was going to be sore with him for this, he just knew it. Maybe it was a better idea to have left them to begin with. “I probably should’ve asked before taking them. I just figured Monty wouldn't really mind...”

“He kind of has a point,” Charlie added meekly. Not that she wanted to rile Freddy up, but it wasn't like she or Michael had any good plans. Their last one ended with Charlie nearly having to abandon her broken vessel in the pursuit of saving a mentally compromised security guard.

Freddy looked around the room with narrowed eyes. Charlie and Gregory were clearly in agreement, and the only semblance of another adult Freddy could rely on to back him up was Michael. However… based on the puppy-dog eyes the fox was giving him, Freddy had to concede that he was outnumbered. After a moment, the bear heaved a sigh.

“…I need to make it very clear that I am not going along with this because it is the safest plan,” Freddy said in a stern tone. “It is simply the most viable one we have at the present time.”

“Yes!” Michael cheered quietly, holding out his palm behind his back for Gregory to give him a not-very-sneaky high-five. “Smart thinking, kid!”

“I still do not like the thought of us splitting up, though,” Freddy added, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Regardless of whether my claws are upgraded, do you not think we would be best staying together?”

Gregory's palm slapped against Michael's metal one, the cheeky grin he had not helping their situation with Freddy. As the boss bear suggested they stay together yet again, Gregory thought it over twice in his head.

“That’d be fine, it’s just… I'm afraid of how much time we have left.” Gregory posed the conundrum to the rest of the group. “It's about... 4:30 now. If the doors open at 6, there’s only so long we’ve got to stop William from whatever weird stuff he's up to. If we split up, that's more ground we're covering.”

After Gregory flipped through his watch he spoke into it, voice echoing in a tinny tone from Freddy's internal speakers. “Besides, if we're in trouble you're going to be the first to hear about it, dad.”

That single word affected Charlie emotionally, and she instantly turned away. Despite her static mask, she sometimes thought people could still read the expression on her face. It would be ridiculous to say she was jealous of a 12 year old boy. The way Freddy looked at Gregory was the same proud glance her father would give her. She missed it—being a part of a family. The Emilys were broken apart the day she was found in that alley with Puppet draped over her lifeless form.

Regardless of her personal feelings, watching Gregory and Freddy interact caused Charlie’s soul to spark with a warmth she hadn’t felt in years.

Michael turned away as well, gripping the desk behind him so hard his electric green claws left faint indents in the metal. He was happy for them—he really was. The tightness in his chest was mostly comprised of good feelings, because Gregory deserved to have a parental figure that loved him unconditionally and Freddy was clearly more than happy to take on that roll. If the kind smile on the bear’s face wasn’t proof enough, his bright blue eyes certainly were—filled with more paternal adoration and compassion than Michael had seen in anyone but his Uncle Henry.

To say Freddy was still just a robot would be a lie. He was something else entirely now, with one goal: to protect his son and keep him safe and loved. And though Michael was glad Freddy and Gregory found each other, he couldn’t help the pang of jealousy that thudded dully where his heart should be.

If only his own father had looked at him like that after Evan’s death, maybe things wouldn’t have turned out so wrong.

“…Alright, superstar.” It was Freddy to break the silence. He stepped forward and lifted Gregory out of the chair and into his arms, holding him close. “We can split up for half an hour. How about we meet back here at 5 am? We will keep in constant contact as much as possible, and if anything happens we will reach out to the other.”

Gregory always wondered what it was like to be cared about. To his hesitant relief, he didn’t need to guess any longer. Looping his arms around Freddy's neck to hug him back, he set an alarm: 10 minutes before they needed to return to the security office.

“I'll call you when me and Mike are coming back. Sound good?” Gregory asked, wondering why he and Charlie suddenly seemed so out of it when things were finally starting to look up.

“Hmm?” The small voice calling his name brought Michael back to the present. He noticed Charlie had moved next to him, presumably to comfort yet again, and gave her a pat on the shoulder. “I’m good, Charlie; thanks.” He turned to the others, Foxy’s grin widening. “And yes, we’ll keep you both updated.”

“We will do the same,” Freddy agreed, still clinging to Gregory for just a bit longer.

“Hey, try not to worry so much—no use frying your circuits!” Michael clapped him amiably on the back. “I promise I’ll keep Gregory safe; he’ll be back in your arms in no time.”

Freddy nodded, appreciating the reassurance. “Thank you, Michael. I will do the same for Charlie.”

The Puppet could probably hold her own if it came down to it, but Freddy couldn’t help the sense of protectiveness that he felt towards her as well. It wasn’t just Gregory that he wanted to keep out of danger—it was all of his friends, new and old.

Charlie was pretty happy to have Freddy's attention all to herself again. With three people vying for the friendly’s bear’s focus, it was like having to fight for the sole affection of her mom and dad all over again. Not that either of her parents were ever stingy with their love, but Sammy had been a handful to say the least. His rebellious stage started—and ended—pretty early on, if she remembered correctly. She wondered if he’d retained any of that rambunctious nature, or if he’d chilled out more over the years like Michael. Though that was something to think on later when she found him, after all this was over.

“My turn to hang out with Freddy!” Charlie exclaimed cheerfully, jumping from the desk to wave goodbye. “Thanks for the tune-up, by the way. The next time my neck breaks I'll go straight to you guys.” She said this to both Gregory and Michael, making the younger of the pair beam with joy at his successful fix.

“Ready to walk the plank, Mike?” Gregory asked in a swashbuckler’s accent, mindful of which side of Foxy’s body he should walk on. That hook was sharp and Gregory didn't quite trust the ghost had trained himself to mind it yet.

“Argh, you bet I am, Cap’n!” Michael replied with a gleaming smile that showed off his sharp teeth. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to use them, but at least they were there as a last resort.

After one final squeeze, Freddy set Gregory down at Michael’s non-hook side. He ruffled the boy’s hair, smiling down at him for a moment before finally backing away. He grabbed Monty’s claws off the desk, trying his best to ignore the bloodstains—he’d need to get those off before attaching the limbs to his body…

“Alright, Charlie—shall we go?” Freddy asked, offering an elbow for the Puppet to slip her thin arm through while they walked.

Freddy Fazbear was a true gentleman, it seemed. Charlie slid her long, gangly arm through the loop he made and situated herself at his side for comfort.

“How about I hold onto those for now? One less thing for you to worry about,” Charlie suggested kindly, taking Monty’s claws and wiping them down carefully on her cloth-covered midsection. While they worked on his upgrades, she could ask when Freddy had officially adopted Gregory to begin with. Charlie knew it would be one way to take his mind off the awful events that’d just transpired at Monty Golf.

Gregory gave Mike a sailor's salute, eager to begin their latest adventure. While the boy had become way too familiar with his own mortality tonight, his friends had made it a bit safer and more bearable with every passing hour. He felt strong and brave beside them, their wisdom and experience having rubbed off on him the more they interacted. Pulling up his map, Gregory quickly showed everyone their routes.

“Freddy and Charlie? You guys take the extra spooky places. Michael and I are going to see if there's anything worth snagging by Fazer Blast and Mazercise, ‘cause Freddy and I didn't really get a chance to look around there,” he explained one more time, looking to his dad before heading for the door. “We'll see you guys soon.”

Michael gave Freddy and Charlie a wave as Gregory tugged him out of the office, trying to quell his anxiety as his friends disappeared from sight. They were all going to be fine. They would find William, get rid of him for good, and put an end to all their suffering once and for all.

Or so he desperately hoped.

Chapter Text

Now this is your fault
Everything is a problem
There was a poison in the air, despair is an eternal blight
You're losing it all
You've been blinded by stardom
You think that you're alone, but we are waiting for you every night
You're mine

~This Comes From Inside by The Living Tombstone~

“So, Gregory…,” Michael began as they walked through Rockstar Row. He kept his voice low, though from the camera feeds they’d just checked there were no enemies around. Still, he reasoned it was better safe than sorry. “I appreciate you saving us from the spooky places, but I have to admit: I have no idea what Fazer Blast or Mazercise are...”

“So...” Gregory followed suit, pitching his voice equally low. He'd spent a while plotting out their course in detail as he learned from Freddy. It was the reason why they hadn't been ambushed by now with Freddy's AI wired into the system. This route should be quiet.

Then again, Gregory was human. Humans tend to err.

“You're gonna love Fazer Blast. On Tuesday, I crashed this rich kid's party; everyone got a gift basket and a ticket to Fazer Blast, so I got to play it a little. Those guns aren't a joke and I saw some kid hit a girl in the eye,” Gregory mentioned, peeking around a darkened corridor that headed for the backrooms. “Also... That's how I learned what a corneal laceration was. So I guess everyone learned something that day.”

“Guns…?” Michael tilted his head as he listened to Gregory explain, keeping watch for extraneous bots and rabbits as they moved. He then let out an excited gasp, eyes twinkling as he realized what this attraction might entail. “Wait—is this laser tag?!”

Michael loved laser tag—it was a fun activity that appeared in the world during one of the worst times in his life. On the rare occasion he was able to escape extraneous work at the pizzeria, he’d rush off to the fancy new arena not far from his dad’s restaurant and get out his frustration at life by shooting neon lights at other kids. He’d always wanted to play one, final game someday…

“Yeah! Plus... I figured ‘cause this whole attraction is always making noise—” Gregory began, pulling his flashlight out to shine light on their path as he revealed the secret second part to his plan. “—we could play laser tag. They have S.T.A.F.F. bots in the attraction set up for you to shoot.”

Was it exactly what Gregory said he'd be doing? No, but Freddy would be fine with it if he knew it was for a purpose anyway. They needed those Fazblasters. Gregory used to be confident with the camera's flash, but then Monty's sunglasses proved to be too tinted for the shining lights.

“And Mazercise? That's—”

“Hello?” squawked a feminine noise, too-high energy to be Charlie.

Gregory turned off his light and jumped back behind a set of employee lockers. Speak of the devil! Why did he even bother talking about the homicidal robots when they just seemed to have their ears ringing at every mention of them? The bird had seen the light, followed it, but stood confused when she saw Foxy the Pirate in the halls.

“...No. Flipping. Way! Foxy?! How did you get here?” Chica gasped, running towards him and looking like she had no clue what to do with her hands at the strange surprise. “You look amazing; did they do something to your hair?”

Michael was thankful the boy had such quick-thinking reflexes. Before he could even blink, Gregory disappeared into a locker and was out of sight just as Chica rounded the corner. Mike flinched as she ran towards him, instinctively holding his arms up to shield his face as images of lunging robots and gnashing teeth flashed though his mind.

However… this was not Chica he used to know. The closest iteration to this Glamrock version had been the Toy line, which was absolutely terrifying in its own right. But even though the bird in front of him was virus-ridden and currently bloodthirsty for human children, she was like Freddy at her core—meaning that, deep down, she should be nice. Whether Michael could access this part of her remained to be seen, although she was clearly excited to see her old friend Foxy.

“Argh, hello, lass!” Michael exclaimed, lowering his arms. He flashed Chica a grin and really hoped they hadn’t changed Foxy’s voice too much from the original one he was copying. “I’ve been brought back from the depths of Parts & Service! It’s great to see ya!”

Chica had her hands pressed expressively against her dirty pizza-grease-stained cheeks. There were so many surprises tonight! Freddy turned out to be a traitor. Bonnie was back! And now Foxy the famous Pirate Fox had returned from the dead?!

Chica could almost die from happiness.

“Wait until Roxy hears about this! Oooh! You're, like, her idol or her muse or something!” She laughed, acting just like her usual self at the sight of an old friend. Obviously, she had to fill Foxy in on what was happening.

“I can't wait to rock out with you! Ugh, I just wish I could find everyone—plus that rabid kid is still on the loose. You should put a hook in his brain when you see him...,” Chica remarked in a disgusted tone, like even mentioning the boy put her in a sour mood. “You should also visit Bonnie; he's hanging out in Fazer Blast with Vanny. I'm gonna go try and find Roxanne...”

Chica walked past Michael, smoothly at first until it became more of a zombified shuffle. Sadly, no self-awareness had come to her during their conversation—nothing that rubbed herself the wrong way and no self-reflection. Just blind hatred for Gregory.

Michael was frozen for a moment as he recovered from the whiplash of that short but very informative interaction. He’d been trying to think of excuses to get Chica away, but she’d rambled on, had an entire one-sided conversation, and then promptly walked off before he could get another word out. He wondered if this Glamrock model was always so chatty, or if this feature had been amped up by the virus, too. He’d have to ask Freddy when they met up again.

Gregory opened his locker, slow as to not alert the turned-around chicken. The last thing he wanted to do was for some sweaty employee's locker to be his coffin.

When Gregory emerged Michael quickly ushered him to his side, wrapping the long pirate coat around the boy protectively. His legs and tiny red shoes could still be seen, but it gave Mike and Gregory a mutual sense of comfort nonetheless as Chica shambled out of sight. After hearing her heavy footsteps retreat a little longer, Michael pressed a finger to his mouth as a signal to be quiet and led Gregory into a nearby janitors’ closet that had thankfully been unlocked.

“If we’re quiet, we should be able to talk here for a bit until we’re sure she’s gone,” Michael whispered, not worrying that Gregory would hear him in the tiny space. The poor boy was practically sandwiched between Mike’s leg and a shelf full of cleaning supplies, but at least they were both out of the open now. “Can you use that handy watch of yours and check the cameras? We’ll move when she’s far enough away.”

Chica really didn't shut up, Gregory concluded. She ate and regurgitated pizza grease and talked about nothing. Or at least, her worst traits were amplified when under William's viral influence. As Michael was kind and courteous enough to wrap him in the soft, long coat, Gregory felt okay walking alongside him. Although he did sort of feel like one of those dogs being put inside one of those thunder blankets, it certainly helped with keeping him calm. Plus the smell of motor oil and dust reminded him of home...

Inside the cramped closet, Gregory felt somewhat dizzy. Not just because it was small and he’d been squished against Foxy's leopard tights, but the cleaning chemicals inside didn't seem to be capped right. So, Gregory tried to make this swift.

“Totally—I'd hate to be trapped in a conversation like that again,” he said, sympathizing for his friend as the camera feeds for this level loaded. Together they watched the pink bird move along the halls, momentarily spooked by her own shadow before angrily storming into the auxiliary café entrance.

Once the coast was clear, Mike quickly opened the door and freed Gregory from the confines of the tiny space. The boy’s face was starting to look a little pale from the chemical fumes, but he seemed to perk up alright in the open air of the hallway.

“Alright, so—” Michael began, crouching down and resting his arms on his knees to be more on Gregory’s level. “—clearly, those damn rabbits are hiding out in Fazer Blast. That’s why Chica mentioned Bonnie, since the bastard still insists on using a Bonnie model after everything that’s happened…” Suddenly, Michael’s eyes widened as a realization hit him.

“Oh. Oh no… Freddy doesn’t know what William looks like right now—he’s probably just going off of whatever picture is in his memory banks.” The fox groaned in annoyance. “Shit—we should’ve told Freddy in case they run into him; I don’t think he’s going to react well… Maybe we should call and tell Charlie to let him know. But they might be busy with upgrades, so I wouldn’t want to distract her; she’ll probably remember on her own, anyway…”

Michael’s thoughts were spiraling again, and this time Gregory was able to hear it out loud. Through his muttering, Mike neglected to actually give Gregory an explanation of how or why William was in a Bonnie animatronic, leaving the boy to speculate. The fox seemed more worried about Freddy’s reaction to seeing his old, virus-infected friend than anything else at the moment.

William was a bunny. Okay...

“Wait—is your dad just Bonnie? Or is he a ghost, too?” Gregory asked.

It made sense, he thought. William Afton was either going to be an incredibly old man—possibly 100 years old—or he was going to be a murderous ghost. "Ghost" began to connect a few dots, even if they didn’t have all the pieces.

To keep Michael from going totally off-kilter, Gregory stepped in front of the man and tried to garner his attention.

“Mike. Charlie and Freddy are probably talking about it right now. Don't sweat it,” he would attempt to ease down.

Though Gregory was far from a crisis-preventer, he did make some good points. If William was hiding in Fazer Blast, they could corner him! Maybe keep him stalled, or preferably wait until Freddy was done with his upgrade. It might not be the time to get the drop on him, but to figure out what exactly his plan was this entire time.

Michael seemed to refocus as Gregory called his name. Glassy eyes brightened once again and he realized that an open hallway with crazed robots running around really wasn’t the place for his anxiety to get the better of him. He stood up, holding out his hand for Gregory to take.

“You’re right; I’m sure they’ll be fine,” Michael agreed with a grateful smile. He gave a resolute nod, his mind following a similar thought process as Gregory’s. “Let’s head to Fazer Blast; we can at least grab a gun and then book it back to Freddy and Charlie.” He started walking, then quickly realized he had absolutely no idea where they were going. With a chuckle, he gestured with his hook for Gregory to take the lead.

“As for my Father… I’m honestly not sure what he is at this point,” Michael admitted slowly. He didn’t want to freak the kid out more than he already was, but Gregory needed to know what they were up against—or he at least deserved to know that Michael didn’t. “William is… unique, I’ll put it that way. It would make sense if he was a ghost like Charlie and I, but he’s never made sense.”

The ghost theory was only plausible on a surface-level. The most glaring issue was that, if he was simply a ghost, how in the world had he infected Vanessa? Obviously she did his bidding and was likely the one to spread the virus while William was getting used to his new body… but how had she become influenced in the first place? Michael didn’t think ghosts could possess living people—and even if they could, wouldn’t William’s influence have left Vanessa the moment he went into Glamrock Bonnie? There were too many questions and not nearly enough answers for Michael’s liking.

It would help if the old fuck actually said anything worthwhile. It seemed he showed himself just to gloat, followed by him punching Michael and kicking Charlie only to fuck off back into obscurity. The only predictable thing about William was that he glided through life on impulse—and that impulsive lifestyle came back karmatically in a big way by taking his family apart, one by one.

“What if he's haunting the... the operating system? It would explain why Freddy doesn't have the virus, being on Safe Mode...,” Gregory thought, but that still didn't explain his control over Vanessa. “It can't explain why your dad wants me dead. I've never even met the chump!”

Gregory griped as he took Michael's hand and begun to pull him towards Fazer Blast. They could do a little reconnaissance while Freddy was getting repaired.

“The operating system?” Michael echoed, frowning as best as the fox face would allow. Now that was an intriguing thought… And a surprisingly plausible one, too.

Still, the big question remained: how?

“I don’t think it has anything to do with you personally, Gregory,” Michael assured, giving his hand a squeeze. “You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time and he set his sights on you, like all the others…” His tone shifted into one of aged bitterness on these last few words. How many kids had been taken for William’s deluded plans? Michael wasn’t sure he even wanted to know.

“Right...” Gregory's whole perspective on it did seem to shift. It didn't so much matter why William was doing the things he was doing. All that mattered was getting as far from this guy as possible while preventing him from hurting others.

Bunnies were supposed to be cute and unassuming. Gregory figured this is why he managed to find so many child victims. Who’d ever suspect the sweet ol’ rabbit?

Gregory spied through the camera function on his Fazwatch, glancing around the Fazer Blast attraction. In one of those, he could see a security tower that overlooked the laser tag course.

As he squinted at the movement inside the tower and showed his wrist to Michael, Gregory asked: “Is he just insane? What does he get out of killing kids?”

Gregory just couldn't fathom going out of your way to hurt anyone without reason, especially someone so vulnerable. Just one day, you're sitting in a ball pit thinking about how you're going to get ice cream afterward. Then some guy with a weird thing for rabbits kills you and hides your body inside an arcade machine... It was morbid. And if Gregory didn't want to join the others, he had to figure out anything he could from Michael to avoid that.

“He is insane—that’s not a question.” Michael watched the movement on the tiny screen. It was impossible to make out any details, although the stark flash of white confirmed that Vanny was definitely up there… and William likely wasn’t going to leave her side now that he could use her for both his original plan and leverage against the others.

“I don’t know what he wants, though—not now, after all this time,” Michael continued, then he paused a moment, gearing up for the explanation ahead. “I think he was originally trying to… to bring back my brother.” Michael’s voice slowed as he pushed through the emotion that came with reliving Evan’s death. “He… Evan… E-Evan was the only one in this horrible situation that didn’t die by William’s hand. And once that happened, my father… changed. I don’t understand everything behind his actions and I doubt anyone but him ever will, but… I think he started out with what he believed were good intentions.”

At least, this is what Michael presumed from the scattered notes he’d found when raiding William’s office. Not to mention hints the crazed killer gave whenever he and his estranged son interacted. Though few and far between, these pieces of information allowed Michael to hazard a guess that in William’s sick fantasy, he thought he was bringing his family back together… but he only ended up killing the rest of his own children, himself, and innocent kids that had nothing to do with anything in the process. And he was apparently still going.

Maybe that was how he justified those actions. Charlie may have been an accident that led to the discovery of life eternal, but the others? William didn't know them. He could justify it by placing himself aside the others. Their lives didn't affect him as the lives of his children had. What was a few decades of hard work in comparison to forever? If William even could articulate that at the time, how could he now?

Gregory gave Michael a sympathetic ear, saddened by the tale. Mike just wanted his brother back, but not at the expense of other people’s lives. He was going through grief naturally, but it seemed like that process had been stunted—and he’d never gotten over the death of Evan either.

“That's... Really messed up. I'm sorry he put you through that, Mike,” Gregory said. Michael had been a good friend to him, and the heartache of hearing your friend’s inner turmoil had Gregory resting his head against the fox's leg as they watched the security tower together.

Inside, a taller, unfamiliar rabbit figure was gesturing with his hands. It looked like he was making shadow puppets across a projector screen. Either that, or Gregory just couldn’t see what he had showing on the projector. It was hard to tell, but Gregory was almost positive it was the former. Since William came across as strange in all of Michael's depictions of him, he wouldn't put it past the man.

“Thanks, Gregory; you’re a good kid.” Michael couldn’t help but feel a twinge of brotherly affection at the boy’s words. Despite the obviously tough life he’d been though, Gregory still had the wherewithal to care about others. Michael gently ruffled his hair, allowing Gregory to rest against him for a moment before letting out a small sigh.

“Alright—time for another plan,” the fox announced. “I’m not too fond of us going to Fazer Blast if William and Vanny are there, but… I think we need that gun. Maybe we can grab it and get out, then come back with Freddy and Charlie?”

“Yeah. They're not even doing anything...” With no audio enabled in this thing, there was no telling what they were talking about over there. There wasn't any point sitting and speculating in the hallway. It wouldn't get either of them any closer to the answers they craved.

“We could also hit up Mazercise? I don't know if I left anything in there. Or maybe we could just go back and see how the others are doing. What time is it?” Gregory asked, switching the screens on his watch briefly to observe how much time they wasted scouting the area.

“Let’s get the gun first, then if we have time we can check out Mazercise—if not, we’ll regroup in the security office.” As Michael talked through the plan, he became more confident that things might just work in their favor this time. Yes, they were technically going to be in the same area as William, but they were going to stay as far away as possible. Michael held up his paw for a high-five, flashing the most confident grin he could manage. “Ready?”

It'll be easy, Gregory figured as he raised his hand and met the other's with a hearty smack. "Ready!"

Though it would be tempting to stay and play a round of laser tag, Gregory doubted it wouldn't go unnoticed by Vanny or William in the tower above.

Gregory could feel Michael's contagious smile spread to pull at his own lips. With the fierce pirate fox at his side, there was nothing they couldn't accomplish. Even if that old man and the bunny with no peripheral vision in her mask saw them, it's not like they could catch them!

Probably.

Michael followed Gregory into Fazer Blast, speeding past the first room where a S.T.A.F.F. bot ran through a set of instructions and warnings. The next room held the prize: a set of Fazblasters all lined up nicely on a table next to a bunch of helmets. Gregory was quick to pick up a gun, and as he turned it over in his hands Michael went back to the door they’d just entered. He tried to open it so they could go back the way they came—but the heavy metal wouldn’t budge.

“No…” Michael muttered under his breath, not wanting to alarm Gregory until he was sure he had to. “No, please… not now!”

He tried the door frantically, even attempting to leverage the handle with his hook, but it was stuck fast. He didn’t need to breathe, but it sounded like he was starting to hyperventilate. Turning to Gregory with wide eyes, Michael spelled out their current situation: “The door auto-locked behind us. I… I think we have to go through the arena to get out of here.”

Gregory's eyebrows flew up towards his hairline, and to the door he went in an attempt to throw it up alongside Michael. He hit the door twice with his fist, even shot the card reader with his gun. Nothing would get the auto locks to pry. Sad to say they couldn't use the same technology for their security offices...

“If your dad doesn't kill us, mine will,” Gregory muttered. This had been a serious lapse in judgement on both their parts. But how were either to know that there was no way to exit the Fazer Blast unless a S.T.A.F.F. bot was witnessing an emergency?

A long corridor that lead into the laser tag obstacle course was illuminated by standard, uniform neon tubing. The ominous red that lit their path wasn't exactly soothing.

“Okay... Just don't panic. Maybe they won't even notice up there.” Gregory squared his shoulders as he began to shuffle for the exit.

“Just stay by my side and keep that blaster handy,” Michael instructed, as they cautiously approached an elevator that would deposit them directly into the arena. Not for the first time, Michael wondered what the hell this place’s obsession with unnecessarily long elevator rides was about. He thought back to Gregory’s comment about their dads and sighed.

“…You should also probably try to call Freddy before that elevator door opens,” the fox added with a grimace. “I know he’s going to freak out depending on how much you say, but at least he deserves to know that we’ve found their hideout.”

Michael’s tail swished slowly back and forth to get out some nervous tension. He’d leave it up to Gregory as to how much detail he wanted to provide on the call—the boy knew Freddy better than him at this point and could do a much better job at predicting what might set the bear off. If it were up to Mike, he figured the less information the better…

That was a good idea. Maybe the universe was giving Gregory this long elevator ride to give him time to say goodbye to Freddy—to apologize for calling him Dad and getting attached to him before dying. There were many scenarios running through his mind as he took a deep, steadying breath. His wrist was poised in front of his mouth, and Gregory pressed the talking button at the side to speak with Freddy.

“Hey, Dad? Uh—we got locked inside Fazer Blast. I don't know if you can hear me but... I love you and stuff. I-I'm going to try and hold out with Michael. I just wanted to let you know I'm sorry.”

It would be a miracle if Freddy was in position to answer—or if Charlie heard them and decided to come to their aid. But for some reason Gregory felt like their luck was running out.

Oh… that hurt to listen to. Michael’s chest tightened as Gregory spoke shakily into his watch. The kid had acted so confident and comforting towards Michael recently, he’d almost forgotten Gregory was just that: a kid. One that was about to try and sneak past an entity that had made an entire building of robots hungry for his blood specifically. Of course he’d be absolutely terrified…

Unfortunately, any words of encouragement Michael had to offer were stilted as the doors opened to reveal the arena. A thin layer of fog obscured the neon glow of the laser tag attraction. So far, all was quiet.

***

Charlie had just finished the last test of Freddy’s new claws when Gregory’s small, scared voice echoed from his internal speakers.

“Gregory?!” Freddy exclaimed, and when the boy didn’t respond he jumped out of the chair and rushed to the door of the protective cylinder, trying to force it open when it didn’t move fast enough. Once out in the main area, Freddy grabbed Charlie’s hand and immediately pulled her towards Roxy’s elevator, explaining frantically as he ran: “Gregory and Michael are stuck in Fazer Blast—I am not sure what is happening, but I think they are in trouble! We must try and help them!”

Charlie had become a limp noodle in Freddy's hold. How and why those boys couldn't stay out of trouble was not the question that could be answered right now. Charlie put up no fight as her legs started their fast pace alongside Freddy's.

Charlie had thought that Michael moved on from his rebellious phase—perhaps Gregory brought it out unintentionally in her friend when they were alone. Charlie knew when she had her turn in watching the kid, all she wanted to do was arts and crafts and play with toys. Gregory brought their inner child out—yet, sadly, they were trapped inside this place with a child murderer. They'd be as good as double-dead without help.

Gripping onto Freddy's arm, Charlie swung up to rest weightlessly on his back, hitching a ride as they rushed into the elevator.

***

Gregory was timid, clearly shaken as he glanced to his friend. He looked past him now, peering into the dense fog. The mist only seemed to amp up the further they passed the into it's shroud. Gregory thankfully could still see Michael, as the giant looming fox wasn't exactly inconspicuous. As they circled around to capture one of the checkpoints, Gregory wondered if they could get through this without incident. When the flag was retrieved, a prerecorded message swiftly ruined their entire guise.

“CHECKPOINT B CAPTURED! TWO MORE CHECKPOINTS REMAIN!” reminded the two, and set off cause for alarm inside the tower.

“SHIT!” Michael yelled, his voice almost completely drowned out by the message blasting through the arena. Why the hell did it have to be so loud and announce their exact position?! He ushered Gregory along as fast as they could, not even sure what direction they were headed. All he knew was that one or more rabbits were about to appear at Checkpoint B, and they needed to be as far away from there as possible.

Inside the tower, Vanny rushed to the window and peered out to see a vague, bulky shape moving through the fog. Though the features weren’t clear, the hobbling steps were unmistakable. Vanny turned around to William with an excited gasp.

“Your son is here!” she announced, giddy and bright. She pressed a paw over the grinning mouth of her mask as she let out a giggle. “Seems like he wanted to play a game~”

Above, William came from behind Vanny, placing his hands on the girl's shoulders as he peered over her and into the maze.

“Of course. He could never resist a bout of laser tag.” William said as if reminiscing on the good times. It appeared Michael had a little friend. The child he had heard about. Good; maybe his son had finally come to his senses and decided to give up the chase.

It’d be useless anyway—William would get what he wanted in the end.

“We should meet with them, don't you think, my dear?” he remarked, giving his murderous protégé’s shoulders a rough pat before turning around and heading for the office doors. “Last one there's a rotten Easter egg!”

“The other flags! Damn it where are they—” Gregory gasped through the artificial fog in the air. He nearly fainted when Michael patted the cut along his back, the self-preserving part of his brain figuring he should just relax before death to make it easier on his tiny body. When he realized it was Michael with him in the fog, Gregory figured he should let Mike lead the way. After all, he shared those special eyes that Roxy had. This obscure fog wasn't anything to him, and it showed.

“There! To your left!” Michael exclaimed, pointing to a poll with a tiny flag set up in a nearly-hidden corner. He squinted as he looked around for danger while Gregory ran for the goal.

Now that his eyes had time to adjust to the sensory overload of fog and flashing lights, Michael realized he could see through the haze pretty well. Thank god for whatever special features they’d installed in these animatronic eyes… He just hoped they hadn’t been spotted by those in the tower yet, although he knew the chances of that were slim.

Vanny shrieked with laughter as she rushed to follow William out into the arena. She was so happy he had a body now so they could play all sorts of fun games! And the fact that Michael was joining them as well was even more fantastic—not to mention he’d brought them a gift of the sneaky child they’d been trying to catch all night! It warmed Vanny’s heart to see her friend's old family reunited again!

No longer was William just a nagging voice sitting idle in the back of her head. He could sing and dance before her, and do all the things that he said he would. His plan was so close to being achieved now.

As his metal feet clanged after each impact with the steps on the tower, William let out a disturbed chuckle. “I can see them! Can you see them?”

Checkpoint A was close, all they had to do was snatch the flag away and get to C. As Gregory skidded across the floor, riding the momentum after running for so long, he figured Michael was behind him. He craned his neck to look for him, and found himself sliding right into someone new...

Those strong arms snatched him up, holding him with a grip that caused Gregory to shriek. It was him! The child murderer who’d been waiting for Gregory to slip up and get turned around inside the fog.

Gregory begun to cry now as his feet were pulled from the safety of the ground. In sheer panic, he dropped his gun and hit at the thick, purple arms holding him aloft.

“Evan..?” the rabbit questioned in a voice not unlike Michael’s, tone soft and vulnerable. He didn’t wait for an answer, but knocked Gregory's hands away to get a better look.

It was him, without a shadow of a doubt—Evan Afton, William’s youngest and favorite son. But how? Michael wasn't smart enough to figure out something as complex as resurrection!

…Did it matter? What act of providence after all of William’s labor, to have his first lost child return to him.

Gregory had been scared into muteness as William tucked him against his chest, gently kissing the crown of his head. “No, no, don't cry. No tears. You're safe again. I'm not going to let him hurt you. Not anymore.”

William had officially gone and confused Gregory now. The boy continued to sob silently into the front of “Bonnie’s” torso, which did nothing to help curb his resemblance to Evan. 

“You let go of him RIGHT. NOW.” Michael appeared out of the swirling fog, coat flared out from running before it settled around him. He looked like a sort of fox-pirate-vigilante, seething and out for blood—but not Gregory’s, unlike nearly all the other robots in this damned place.

No, Michael was only after that purple rabbit… The purple rabbit who currently had Gregory clutched in his arms.

“Father… let him go,” Michael tried again, knowing full-well his pleas would fall on deaf ears.

However, there was something odd about this situation—more than the obvious, sheer lunacy of this entire thing. It was in the way William held the child, not like someone about to end Gregory’s life, but like someone who wanted to protect it. It was shocking in its familiarity, and Michael had the sudden, impossible urge to vomit as he understood why: William thought this boy was his son. Gregory’s genes had cursed him with a face like Evan’s, and just like Michael on the outset, their father thought the tortured, long-lost soul of his youngest boy had come back to him.

Michael clenched his fist, remaining stock still as he watched William cuddle the obviously petrified boy. He wanted to snatch Gregory and run, but Mike knew he was at a disadvantage right then—especially when he noticed Vanny lingering near William’s side.

Will's jaw was twitching as he kept it pressed against the top of Gregory's head. When his eyes flicked upwards to Michael, he took a shaky, simulated breath inward. Gregory flinched, thinking that when he least expected it, William would crunch right into the top of his skull.

“Michael... You did it. You found him... I'm so proud of you, son,” the Afton patriarch murmured.

Were these words genuine? Hard to say—he didn't listen to Michael's pleas, only distracted when seeing Vanny come to rest at his side.

“Vanny—look, this is my youngest. Evan, say hello!” William instructed, introducing them as if tonight had been normal. As if Gregory had any clue what the fuck he was talking about.

Honestly, Gregory wasn't sure what was worse. The forced familial bonding or having his life threatened. If Michael corrected Will on who he was, Gregory was going to have his neck snapped. If he stayed, he would have to be the son to a deluded murderer.

William straightened, his crushing hug relaxed while his hands remained tightly clamped under Gregory's arms. “Why don't you come over here, Michael. I'll tell you everything... We can be a family again. The one you always wanted...”

William saw it as a second chance, unable to realize he used all the chances anyone would ever give him long, long ago.

Vanny gasped, pressing oversized paws to her cheeks in excitement. “Hi, Evan! Aww, you’re such a cutie!”

She said this as if she hadn’t been trying to capture him for an entire night and released a virus that made once-friendly animatronics turn on a child they were originally designed to protect. But hey—how was she supposed to know this was William’s son reincarnated?! The man had only been a voice in Vanny’s head until an hour ago—they hadn’t had time to look through the family photo albums yet.

Michael’s teeth ground together until he heard something crack. Great, they were in for another trip to Parts & Service if they made it out if this situation in any semblance of intact. William’s words of praise were sickening. Michael had wanted to hear them for so long, to know his father loved and appreciated him… But not like this. Not now, from his deluded mind that thought a terrified, innocent boy was his own.

And that was just it—this wasn’t the time for Michael to focus on himself. He’d had decades of loneliness and self-reflection to do that. Now was the time to save Gregory—whatever it took.

“Y-Yes, Father, I… I brought him back for you,” the fox said, his voice stumbling at the beginning but gaining confidence as Michael did. He took a slow, cautious step forward. He had to do this very carefully—one wrong move and Gregory would be dead in an instant. Another child lost to William’s madness. “I wanted us to be together again. I… we missed you.”

A shudder went through William like a wave in a pool.

“Finally, the truth comes out.” He just knew Michael couldn't possibly hate him! He was angry over the circumstances, surely. But now they could be a family again!

Gregory had lightly pushed against William's chest, though there was no budging. He wasn't even sure Will noticed his futile attempts at escaping. When Michael had revealed that he brought Gregory to him, the boy’s head whipped around, eyes burning from the stinging tears of betrayal.

“I-I thought I could trust you!” Gregory yelled, anger overtaking him as William gave a gentle squeeze.

“Shh. Shhhhh...,” he soothed, gaze now lingering on Michael. “Come, Michael; Evan's scared. We can find a rerun of Fazbear and Friends on the YouTube and watch it together. How does that sound, Evan?”

While the cartoon was a timeless classic, Gregory didn't want to watch it with this creep.

“Get bent,” he snapped, glaring up at the bunny who stared back with shocked eyes.

“Michael? I told you to stop teaching Evan swears. You know he wants to be just like you,” William griped, rolling his eyes at his “son's” act of wayward rebellion.

“I’ll cue up some videos upstairs~” Vanny chimed in, her static grin eerier than ever as she skipped off without waiting for an answer. She wanted to make herself useful, and she knew William would appreciate the bonding time with his sons! Besides, she’d be just a skip and a hop away if he needed anything.

That look of absolute betrayal on Gregory’s face, like Michael was the most horrendous being on the planet… It was the same look Charlie had given him the night Evan died. She hated him in that moment—and now Gregory hated him, too. Michael desperately wished he could take back his words, reassuring the boy that it was all a ruse to keep him safe in the long run. The more Michael played into his father’s delusion, the better chance they had of escaping him eventually. How exactly they’d do this is what Michael was furiously trying to figure out, but at the moment all he wanted to do was get Gregory away from the purple rabbit’s grasp.

“I’m sorry, Father,” Michael apologized, hanging his head in mock shame, though it was also an excuse not to look at the rabbit for a few seconds. This was so much, his anxiety was screaming nonsensical thoughts of simply grabbing the kid and running, but Michael had to push through.

As William started to follow Vanny to the tower, Michael instinctively reached out to grasp a purple arm. His metaphorical skin crawled at the contact, and he resisted the urge to simply crush the murderer’s limb right then and there. He could do it—he had the strength to, and William would certainly be taken by surprise. But Will might break Gregory’s entire body in a second once he realized the betrayal.

“Wait!” Michael said as his father paused, releasing him once he had his attention. He tried his best to offer a grin from the fox’s mouth. “Before we go upstairs, can we just… talk? Just the three of us? I-I think we need some quality time together; we’ve been apart for so long…”

If he could at least keep Vanny out of the picture, Michael would only have to focus his attention on the pair in front of him.

“Oh Michael...,” William sighed. He supposed that he’d punished his son enough for what he had done. Those years of isolation couldn't hold a candle to the week of suffering Evan had in that hospital bed. Though it was all water under the bridge now! Evan was back, and clearly nothing had changed between him and his brother.

“Anything you want, sport,” William replied amiably, feeling generous now that they had all the time in the world. William looked to Vanny on the steps, calling up to her. “Vanny, dear, we're going to have a talk. Be up shortly!” He arranged Gregory in his arms as he sat onto a foam barricade, the weight of his body smushing it to half its size as he decided to bounce the boy in his lap.

Gregory was praying for death in that moment. This robot wasn't his dad, damn it! Mike had sold him out for what?! Approval from his gross father?!

The kid glared ahead, merely coming off as grumpy to William, perhaps because their game of laser tag was cut short.

“Evan, please stop pouting. We'll watch Fazbear’s in a second. What was it you wanted to say, Michael?” William had a smile on his face, easygoing and content as he finally made progress with locating his missing family.

Ah… Michael hadn’t quite thought that far ahead. He was a person to make overarching goals, but when it came to the smaller details he worked on impulse. Still, at least William was sort of listening to him at the moment.

“I… wanted to say how happy I am that we’re back together,” Mike started, eyes shifting to the floor where the Fazerblaster lay prone. If Gregory could somehow get his hands on the gun, maybe they could shoot William in the eyes and escape while he was temporarily blinded? But the question was: how to get William to let go of the son he’d been missing for so many years?

Suddenly, Michael had an idea. It was half-baked and certainly came with its risks, but it was the best he could think of in that moment.

“Father… may I hold Evan for a moment?” Michael asked, putting as much false sweetness into his words as possible. “It’s just—I only recently saved him from that Freddy he’s been hanging around all night… You know, I think that bear was actually trying to scare him? I mean, you could see how he was crying when you first picked him up…”

Michael let out a huge sigh and shook his head, playing into his father’s love of dramatics. “Since it took me this long to free him, I wanted to bring him straight to you once I realized you were awake. So now that we’re together again… may I please hold him? Just for a moment?”

Would the puppy-dog eyes work on Michael’s real father? He’d just have to try and find out.

Gregory hated being jostled on this strange dude's knee. It may have gotten him to stop crying, but Gregory just looked perpetually uncomfortable. He loathed being touched by people he didn't know, and William was right at the top of the list of nope. He was infuriated that everyone obsessed about him, either seeing him as someone he wasn't or a means to an end.

“That's up to Evan, isn't it? Evan—” William's hypnotic voice cooed, ceasing the infernal bouncing of his knee long enough for Gregory to realize he was addressing him. “—would you like to spend some quality time with your bother?”

“...I don't wanna be touched,” Gregory decided, concerned that any choice he made could be a trap.

William supposed that was reasonable. He didn't quite like that whole deal either, though his fraternal instincts kicking in again after fifty-odd years were making him do some strange things. He laughed quietly, lifting Gregory off his lap to stand instead by the barrier.

“I think that there's some explaining in order. I'm sure you and Evan are terribly confused—I can't blame you for that. In my absence I left you to find life eternal. Now that I've found it, we'll use it to bring Lizzie back, too,” William half-explained. After taking two fingers and pressing them against what would be his sternum, he tapped the metal there before Bonnie's surprise hatch opened.

Reaching inside his chest cavity, he produced a syringe. Its contents were a vivid purple that gleamed magenta from the red neon hitting it at just the right angle.

The sight of the medical instrument had Gregory frozen, his features equally scared and hopeless. He couldn't outrun both him and Michael in a maze that he barely knew, especially with all this fog!

But besides him, on the ground by the flagpole was the Fazerblaster—

As William produced this instrument of torture, Gregory started a slow and precise shuffle towards the weapon.

He put Gregory down.

The thought sent a spike of hesitant relief through Michael’s body. And even better, Gregory had already caught sight of the Fazblaster and was moving towards it. Hopefully he wouldn’t turn against Michael too, though the fox wouldn’t blame him if he got shot between the eyes. The kid still thought Mike was on his father’s side, after all.

“Lizzie…?” Michael asked, stepping closer so he could examine the syringe in William’s hand. He also might have blocked William’s direct line of sight from Gregory in the process so the boy could sneak to the gun.

The substance in the syringe gave Michael another one of those queasy feelings. He’d come across something in William’s notes that talked about this, he was sure of it… though unfortunately Mike’s memory was a bit fuzzy on the details. Even so, whatever that thing was clearly played a major role in William’s twisted plans.

“I have enough right here for everyone. The problem is, once the body is completely gone—” William's voice was calm and easy as he leaned over to pull Evan back closer to his side. In his peripheral, it was easy to see what Gregory was doing. His sons were stubborn, like their dad. William thought Evan was just determined to grasp the Fazerblaster to finish their little game.

“Don't wander, Evan,” William said over Gregory's frightened gasp as his shoes slid helplessly over the smooth floors. Looking to Michael, the Afton patriarch offered him a smile.

“We'll have to trade secrets. How you brought Evan back fully... And I'll tell you what's in this hypodermic.” William brought Gregory in front of him, a firm grasp on his shoulder. “I like to think of it as a rapid cure-all. When you have a child that falls and scrapes their knees, you carry bandages. Death-prone children? They need something stronger.”

Slowly, a clawed, purple paw raised the needle to Gregory's neck.

Chapter Text

Don’t lose heart

‘Cause you are

My superstar!

Don’t give up

With some luck

Together, we’ll make it, I know it

My superstar

~My Superstar by Kassa Jae~

“Don’t!” Michael yelled, lurching forward with arms outstretched as he realized what William was about to do. His shout made his father pause, while Gregory merely stared up at him with eyes full of utter terror.

“I… I-I don’t think he needs that right now, Father,” Michael continued, his voice low and placating. He attempted another grin, this one tinged with a hint of brotherly pride. “His body's much stronger than before already—did you know he managed to take down Monty? Even took his glasses as a victory prize! Show him, Evan!”

Michael hoped Gregory still had those shades he’d seen him slip in his pocket while they were in the security office. If he could somehow convince William that “Evan” was resilient, perhaps he’d ease off again.

“No—Evan did that?” William asked in disbelief, turning the boy around by the shoulder and looking at him expectantly.

This guy wasn't even Gregory's real father and his intimidating stare made Gregory want to sob the truth out. Yet somehow he had a feeling Michael really wasn't trying to get him killed, and that hope made Gregory shove his hands into his pockets for proof. After finding the broken shades that poked his palm painfully upon discovery, he held them out for William to scrutinize.

“...Ooo-hoo, look who's a big tough guy now.” Will began to laugh and poked Gregory playfully against his shoulder, causing the boy to tip slightly from how tense he was. The crazed murderer spoke as if his favorite character being replaced was a personal offense. “Isn't that something? Did it feel good, getting rid of that knock-off?”

“Duh, he was trying to kill me all night!” Gregory snarled in annoyance, which had reminded William of an unintentional little snag.

“Ah—I'll have to call them back to their rooms. 'Fraid the band's been a bit cranky. Sorry, kid...” The delusional man felt somewhat silly for almost making the same mistake twice. The needle was put away for now, but William had returned to holding Gregory's shoulders to keep him in place.

“He’s been so brave, going up against all those cranky bots!” Michael praised, copying William’s language in a subtle attempt to gain more favor. Crouching down, Mike grinned widely and held his arms out for Gregory to run into. “I’m super proud of you, Evan—can your big brother please have a hug?”

Hopefully William would either let him go willingly, or his grip was loose enough for Gregory to break free. If not, Mike was running out of ideas…

Gregory was stuck between a rock and a hard place. William had allowed him to approach, no longer afraid of Michael's wrath as Gregory gently pulled from his hands. The boy was shaky, holding his trembling arms out as he trusted the cunning fox. It was his only chance, after all.

“Look at that,” William said, choosing now to lean his chin into his empty palm. “It makes me happy to see you two get along. Especially after all that nasty business in ‘83...”

It put a bad taste in William's mouth to even mention it. Even if hearing that made Gregory hesitate, he still reached out for Michael's hug.

Mike moved fast—the fastest he’d moved since being bonded to Foxy. Hoping Gregory would forgive him for the physical and mental jerking around, Mike grabbed one of the boy’s outstretched hands and practically threw him towards the Fazerblaster.

“Grab the gun and run to the nearest elevator—I’ll meet you there!” Michael hissed, then before anyone could react he used his leverage from crouching to launch at William. He slammed into the rabbit with a sickening crack, getting in a few good scratches as his hook and sharp nails connected with William’s shoulders while Mike pushed him backwards, crushing the rest of the foam wall in the process. His goal was to keep William down as long as possible so Gregory could get to the elevator, upon which Michael would ditch his father and rush to Gregory’s aid.

Fuck the last Checkpoint—Michael would physically pry those elevators doors open if he had to in order to keep the kid safe.

Gregory didn't look back—he couldn't for fear of freezing up again in his tracks. That man petrified him. He sounded like Michael; even had similar mannerisms under all the crazy. But knowing what he’d done creeped Gregory out to the point of being unable to act or fight.

The horrified shout of Michael tossing his brother hard, sending the boy stumbling to pick up the blaster gave William barely any time to react. He reached out for Evan, only to be thrown into the ground with the crunching sound of metal singing his descent.

“Evan! Wait—HRRK!” William struggled to say as he attempted to pry the hook from his chest. Right now, they were in a death lock. With William's legs poised against his son, pulled in close by the hook imbedded inside him, they could easily do damage to one another. One kick could pry apart the joint in Michael's hip or crack his casing.

“Michael—you really lied to me,” William murmured in disbelief. Michael was trying to pry the family apart just as soon as they’d gotten it on track. But the manipulative Afton patriarch knew exactly what would disturb his son. “The apple doesn't fall from the tree, huh?”

Michael froze. Yet again, he’d been compared to his father, the man he hated more than anything in the universe. The fact that William was the one saying this made it all the more skin-crawling.

Mike had come to terms with being cursed with the face of a murderer. Honestly, after the initial horror of the Ennard incident wore off, there was a minuscule part of Michael’s mind that was thankful for his rotting face—if only because now he’d no longer be compared to William Afton.

But to compare his personality… that was too much.

For a moment, Mike didn’t know what to do—he wanted to scream, to rip his father’s face off, and to run away at the same time. Then he heard the faint sound of Gregory’s tiny shoes pattering away, and his mind was made up.

“Fuck. You.” Michael snarled, angling his hook so it would do as much damage as possible. Then, with a sharp tug, he ripped a hole right through the outer casing of Bonnie’s suit, the screeching metal echoing through the arena. “I'm NOTHING like you!”

William had no clue whether to laugh or shout from the simulated pain. He kicked Michael as he tore a jagged line through his protective outer shell. As his foot made contact with what would've been his son's guts, Will made an awful sound before moving to clutch the cavity in his own chest. The tear had severed some connecting wires and made William's left arm incapable of movement, locked now between the ground and his angry child.

“I did this for you—” he attempted, messing with Michael's head between the assault and the words he knew stung the worst. “—bringing back Evan, Lizzie. Hell, I'd bring your mother back for you, if I could! But you were always ungrateful. Every opportunity I gave to you, you squandered!”

“Ungrateful?!” Michael’s voice was pitched high with fury, his heavy weight keeping William pinned for now. “What did I even have to be ungrateful for?! You might've thought you were giving me ‘opportunities’ in your deluded mind, but you gave me nothing!” He snarled again, bearing down on the rabbit’s pinned arm and hearing another satisfying crack.

“Nothing I actually needed, at least—but you wouldn’t know that, would you? How could you, when you barely talked to me after Evan died?” Michael’s eyes were hard and cold, the hatred leaching out in waves. “You were a horrible father, William... and I'll never forgive you for all you’ve done.”

William let out a worried yelp as his arm was bent unnaturally, attention now captivated on his son. In a way, Will could see the irony. He inhaled upon seeing the twisted metal limb snapping in Michael's hands, the joint broken but unsevered at the elbow.

“Now what?” he asked slowly. “Do you want me to apologize? You'll never forgive me... I'm not sorry for trying to immortalize my loved ones.” In his mind William hadn't done anything wrong, but the shame he could feel from Michael's glare burned worse than the external limb damage. “So do it. Kill me. I'll just keep coming back again and again until I can make all of this right.”

How could he? When he'd already messed everything up this badly?

There was no fixing it. The least he could've done was grieved and moved on with the remainder of his family. But William couldn't even do that.

“I... have to make it right. What kind of father am I...?” William stopped. He couldn't finish the thought, or perhaps he answered his own question. Beneath Michael, the tension of Bonnie's limbs softened, Instead of holding the cavity in his chest he allowed his hand to fall to the side, leaving himself open and defenseless.

Michael raised his hook high at the sight of his father lying prone beneath him. This was it—this was the moment he’d been waiting for all these years. He could finally get revenge on all the agony and torment this creature put his family through. The sharp, golden tip of the hook reflected the neon lights of the Fazer Blast arena as Mike prepared to strike—

“Oh Miiiiiiichael~”

The fox startled, whirling around. Shit—he’d completely forgotten about Vanny. Of course she’d be spurred into action at the notion of her savior in danger. He barely caught sight of her at the other end of the room through the fog… but clutched in her arms was Gregory. She held him with his back flush against her, one arm wrapped firmly around his torso while the other was cinched around his neck—not tight enough to choke, but the threat was there.

“Don’t you want to help your little friend, Michael?” Vanny asked, her tone sickly sweet with false sincerity. She wouldn’t hurt him, not unless William commanded her to, but she could at least hold him captive until her savior was free.

Michael only had a second to make a decision: rip his father’s mechanical guts out, or get Gregory to safety. Of course, as with Charlie before, his answer was obvious.

There wasn’t time for any more poignant words. Michael simply pushed himself off William’s body and rushed Vanny, ripping her arm away from Gregory’s throat faster then she could blink. She let out a yell of pain and let go of the boy’s torso as Michael unintentionally twisted her wrist a bit too far in his panic, everyone in the vicinity wincing at the cracking sound. He’d definitely dislocated something, if not broken it entirely.

“Sorry, Vanessa,” Michael murmured, knowing that despite it all, she was still just William’s pawn with no free will of her own. He hoisted Gregory into his arms and rushed to the elevator, wary of his hook as they ran.

William had given up the chase before it began. When Vanessa went to run after the pair, he called her back to him.

“Forget them! Help me!” he commanded, pushing himself off the ground with his good hand. William spoke in a tired manner, watching as his family slipped through his fingers again. “It looks like we'll have to go with plan B, Vanny dear...”

Gregory's grasp on Mike's coat kept him from falling. He was sure Michael's gait would be fast even if he'd been given two working legs and not a peg. Really he couldn't complain, as Michael turned out to have been fibbing to his father, lying about luring him to Fazer Blast for part of this convoluted scheme. When Vanny took Gregory's weapon and held him at the neck, Gregory had surpassed a level of stress and fear that left him unable to speak. He merely clung tightly to Michael and was unwilling to raise his head from the other man's shoulder in their whole escape. Even at the piercing sound of metal being forced open in the lift, he wouldn't look up.

To Gregory’s benefit, he had a strong grip. He remained latched onto Mike as the fox shoved his hook into the joint between the elevator doors, using both arms to pull the doors apart enough to slip inside. As soon as Michael released his hold, the heavy metal slammed shut and he frantically slapped the button to take them up and out of this hellhole.

Michael didn’t think he’d look at laser tag the same way for a very long time. He only allowed himself a sigh of relief when he felt the elevator move. Slowly, carefully, all too aware of the incredible trauma Gregory must be going through, Mike shifted him into a proper hug. He held the boy firmly, though nothing close to constricting—he could escape the embrace with a simple twist, which Michael kept a lookout for as he murmured comforting words in Gregory’s ear.

“It’s alright; you’re safe now—we’re both safe. He can’t hurt you anymore… I’m sorry I scared you earlier, but I promise I’m on your side.” Michael’s voice caught slightly as the gravity of what could’ve happened to the innocent boy began to hit him. “I-I promise, Gregory… He’s never getting his hands on you ever again.”

Gregory wouldn't realize it just then, but a fear of needles had imbedded itself into him now. Whatever was inside that hypodermic couldn't have been good. The more Gregory tried to push its shimmering glow from his mind the more he would hyperventilate. He completely soaked Michael's shoulder with his tears, sobbing outwardly as he held on like Mike would suddenly turn to mist and leave him all alone.

“He—He was gonna stab me!” Gregory sobbed. That was all he could say before devolving into a shivering husk, curled into Michael's arms for comfort as he allowed himself to slowly be soothed. Even when they reached the top level, the kid was still sniffling back tears.

“But he didn't,” Michael hushed. He was already trying to step out of the elevator before the doors opened, ready to get the hell out of this attraction.

Tonight was rough, no doubt about it. But what happened back there rivaled Monty Golf in traumatic experience.

To their ironic luck, they'd managed to take the “winner's elevator,” which deposited them in a lounge overlooking the entire arena. Michael resisted the urge to peer through the glass and see what happened to William and Vanny—knowing their tenacity, they were probably up and about already. What Michael did focus on, however, was the shining golden Fazblaster set up on a pedestal in the center of the room.

Well... it seemed like they'd acquired a gun after all; the mission hadn't been totally pointless, though the trauma they'd both received far outweighed whatever protection the new weapon could give. Michael carefully grasped the Fazblaster with Gregory balanced in the crook of his arm, then swiftly exited the room. Thinking they'd won, the arena was now happy to open its doors as they traveled down a hallway of flashing lights towards the exit. As they reached the final door leading to the lobby, Michael could hear someone banging on the other side—hard. He instantly tensed, mentally cursing their luck.

Great, just what they needed—another bloodthirsty animatronic to fight off. Just as he started to plan the best way to take down a rabid wolf or chicken with Gregory still in his arms, a familiar voice instantly blew all worries away.

“I hear someone approaching—Gregory? Michael? Is that you?!” Freddy's voice was frantic and strained, the clawing on the door only stopping when it finally opened to reveal the pair in question.

“No, no no no—” Gregory could only imagine William was waiting outside before hearing Freddy's voice.

Everything was too much, all he wanted to do was hold onto Mike and just hope that he woke up in a cardboard box—that all of this was just a nightmare and he’d really made it outside before closing time. When the door opened, causing Charlie to snake around Freddy and quickly scope for danger, Gregory sobbed out loud again, rubbing the backs of his fists into his eyes as his tough kid façade dropped even farther.

“Da-aaa-d!” Gregory hiccupped, afraid of the consequences Freddy might have in store for doing something stupid and dangerous. When thinking about that and the deranged psyche of William Afton he was quaking against Michael's coat.

“Oh my goodness—what happened?!” Freddy exclaimed, his tone full of nothing but concern. He wasn't mad at Gregory in the slightest, but the boy was too emotional to know that yet. The bear reached his paws—er, claws out, the limbs having been successfully replaced by Monty's. They were shiny, free of blood, and so gentle as he took Gregory into his arms that it was hard to believe they'd been used to attack said child a few hours prior.

“Gregory, it is alright!” Freddy soothed as Michael handed the boy over without question. It only took a small effort to dislodge Gregory's grip, and though he might've slightly protested in fear of Freddy's wrath, Michael could tell the bear was absolutely beside himself with worry and wouldn't hurt the kid in anyway—physically or mentally. As soon as Gregory was safely in Freddy's arms the bear hugged him close, feeling the trembling hiccups and half-sobs the boy was still letting out as he clung to his metal dad for dear life.

“Gregory, you are safe—whatever happened in there is a thing of the past,” Freddy continued, totally in comfort mode now. “I love you very much and I am here to protect you; you will be alright. Just relax and try to take some deep breaths. There you go—wonderful, superstar. Keep that up.”

Charlie quietly stood and overlooked the touching scene of Freddy comforting Gregory. Now she could really see what Michael was talking about. The resemblance to his late brother was shocking—especially when he had cried like that. She watched until his sobs fell into tired little hiccups.

It wasn't long before Gregory could look up from Freddy's chest plate while Michael began explaining what just transpired. He felt the need to interject Michael's retelling to emphasize portions of it, including when Vanny grabbed him after William  almost pricked a needle beneath his skin.

Soon, exhausted by the end of the dramatic story, Gregory's eyes were shut in rest. Not quite asleep; his heart was racing far too fast for that. But the bags forming under his eyes were starting to ache from keeping them open.

“You poor things...,” Freddy murmured, giving Michael a look of utmost sympathy as he rocked his son, the action seeming to make the boy's heartrate calm little by little. “I am sorry we were not there to help you.”

“Not your fault; we shouldn't have—” Michael paused, then gave a sharp shake of his head. “No, it wasn't anyone's fault we got stuck in there—except maybe whoever designed those stupid doors!” He glared at the entrance as if he could burn a hole through it with his vision, then seemed to visibly deflate. “...We shouldn't linger here; let's get back to the security office.”

“Yes, I think that is wise,” Freddy agreed, already making his way to the exit. “You both are in desperate need of a rest.”

Lo and behold, the meeting time had come and passed by the time they had left the Fazer Blast, luckily with no rabbits chasing them down. Charlie had thought of nudging Gregory to walk on his own, but the exhaustion on his tired face made Charlie think twice.

As they walked, she looked towards her taller friend and whispered. “You sure you're alright, Mike?”

Ghosts may not exactly need to sleep, but they could still get burned out. The only issue with them resting may mean Gregory was exposed to danger. Though it was hard to imagine forcing him to strive for escape when he was curled into the crook of Freddy's arm, reclined like a tuckered cherub. She couldn't imagine doing that to Michael either—not with the tired expression he wore that screamed of disappointment and a deep sadness.

“I'm fine,” he replied, terser than he'd meant it to sound. He couldn't afford to rest—Gregory needed him, and so did Charlie. Hell, even Freddy now fell under Michael's umbrella of “friends I'll protect until I die for good.”

William was still at large, and though he was damaged, he was still a huge threat. Whatever was in that needle was bad news, and Gregory couldn't be exposed to it again in any capacity. Michael just wished he'd had the forethought to as least give that a good punch and smash it to bits before getting off William earlier...

After a moment, Mike let out a sigh.

“Actually... no, I'm not fine,” he admitted, soft enough for only his old, dear friend to hear. “My psychotic father just tried to inject my brother's lookalike with some horrible shit right in front of my eyes, and I was barely able to stop him. He still thinks Gregory is Evan, and he's not going to stop until he has him again. I... I don't know what to do, Charlie. How can we end this?”

He looked at her then, eyes haunted far beyond the capabilities of an animatronic. He would still protect his friends until his soul dissolved into the ether—there was no question about that. But it did feel good to finally admit that he might not be the steadfast, unbreakable warrior he needed Gregory to think he was.

Charlie didn't have the answer, even if she wished she did. Gently, she held Michael back and allowed for Freddy and Gregory to walk from earshot.

“I don't know... We might need more time than one night can afford. We can think of a plan after you and Gregory get some rest. You can't look after anyone if you're not feeling well,” Charlie offered, keeping her tone calm and even as she tried to convince Mike he’d worked himself over tonight in trying to keep everyone safe. “We'll all be safe in the security hub for a little while. Promise.”

Michael Afton had changed so drastically since the incident when they were younger. He’d lost so many people around him, the thought of losing anyone else caused an anxiety unlike Charlie had ever seen. When he stressed over keeping the others safe, he did so with the full fear that something bad was going to happen. She couldn't blame him, or ask that he changed. But Charlie understood his plight secondhand witnessing Michael's nervous breakdown over the night.

He looked at her for a moment longer, the fierce anxiety in his brain telling him that nowhere was safe, they would always be in danger as long as they were in this cursed place, and there was no escape.

But there was nothing but sincerity in Charlie's words. Her expression might be static on the surface, but Michael could tell she was smiling at him underneath it all. Even if she couldn't truly guarantee their safety in the security hub, her words of reassurance were enough to keep Michael going.

“...Okay,” he relented with a nod. “Okay. We'll regroup and rest for the night, come up with a plan, and get this thing sorted before we know it.” His speaking aloud offered another level of personal reassurance that Michael couldn't afford to lose tonight. He cracked a small grin, nudging Charlie's shoulder in an expression of deepest camaraderie.

“Thanks, Charlie—for still looking out for me after all this time. You really are my best friend.” He chuckled as heartily as he dared in the open hallway. “You should've known you couldn't get rid of me that easily—we always said we'd stick together to the end, didn't we?”

Michael had been the only tether she had left to her human life. When things were much easier and life involved just going to school and eating pizza at their father's shared workspace afterwards, Charlie could remember a time where her first worry in the day was whether or not she could sleep in five more minutes before being officially late for first period bells...

For her and Michael's sakes, she wished that she could go back to it with him. But sadly, the only way left to move way forward with the things they knew now.

“Well yeah—you would’ve grown up to be a menace to society if I didn't talk you out of half the stuff you did,” Charlie replied as if it were her civic duty to hang out with him. Though, bashfully, she admitted “And I probably wouldn't have left the house much if it wasn't for you. So... Of course I'd stick around.”

Charlie had told Mike this before, but stood to remind him again: “Friendships like these are unconditional, you know? I'll always be there for you.”

“And I'll do just the same.” Michael patted Charlie on the shoulder as he walked past her through the security hub door. He looked around for the others, spotting Freddy sitting in one of the office chairs with Gregory now cradled in his lap, the exhausted boy still resting against his protector's metallic chest.

“Hey, Freddy? Charlie and I think it's best if we stay here for the rest of the night,” Michael said quietly as he approached the bear. He didn't think Gregory was asleep, but he couldn't be too sure with how still the boy was save for the rise and fall of his breathing. “This is probably the safest room in the Pizzaplex, and with all the damage I did, I doubt you-know-who is going to make any moves right now until he's recovered somewhat.”

“I fully agree,” Freddy replied with a nod, looking up at Michael briefly before refocusing his attention on Gregory. “My superstar is clearly exhausted, and I am certain that you need to rest, too. It will do us all some good to take a break.”

Charlie crawled on the floor across from where Freddy and Gregory sat. Quietly, she put her two cents into the conversation.

“I hope you put a hole in his face for me,” Charlie wished, alluding to the damage done to her own painted mask. It wasn't like she had much to pride herself on when it came to appearances, but ruining the minimalistic marionette's mask made Charlie feel more like a creepy doll than she ever did before.

She would save her rantings. She glanced over to Gregory, who loosely held onto Freddy's claws while he slept and looked as if he’d begun to finally relax.

“...Hey, Mike, turn the key on my back,” Charlie whispered, facing away from her pirate-themed friend. A little melody from the old music box couldn't hurt Gregory's chances of sleeping.

Michael did as instructed, winding up the key before settling down on the floor next to Charlie as the familiar melody began.

When he was younger, this little music box song had really freaked him out—especially after Charlie died and the Puppet seemed to move in weird ways out of the corner of Michael’s eye. Even when he got a little older and worked in a new restaurant with some of the same old cast, that song only served as a reminder of his impending danger—if it stopped, the Puppet would be after him, and she was not the animatronic to trifle with… especially with Michael having the unfortunate face of her murderer.

But now, as he sat next to his good friends, Mike found the song almost… soothing. Certainly not as much as Gregory though, whose grip on Freddy’s claws became lax as the tension in his shoulders finally started to release.

“Thank you both,” Freddy whispered, running a gentle claw through Gregory’s hair as he smiled down at the boy with all the love a proud father could give.

Sound asleep, the nightmare of tonight was over and thankfully Gregory would prove to be far too tired to dream of anything. The memory of anything fictitious made up inside his head would disappear upon waking.

“No problem.” Charlie curled on the floor, tucking her limbs in close to her body as she whispered. Freddy's further affectionate gestures prompted her to ask something she hadn't yet gotten to: “So… when did you adopt Gregory, anyway?”

It was asked in a somewhat serious tone. If Freddy wanted to keep Gregory, she had the feeling based on the kid’s apparent willingness to be adopted by a robot bear that not many people were really looking for him. Good thing he was already so loved at the Pizzaplex.

“Oh! Ah, well…” The question took Freddy by surprise, his eyes shifting away as he tried to think of an answer. His first instinct was to deny this claim—of course an animatronic couldn’t adopt a human child; that was ridiculous!

…But if there were any beings in the world that would understand and accept this strange predicament, it was the two sitting in front of him. Besides, Freddy knew that at least Michael heard Gregory refer to him as “dad” on multiple occasions.

“Well, I wanted to keep Gregory safe since we first met him tonight, though it was not long after I separated from Michael that I realized I could not let him go back to that foster home,” Freddy explained, speaking softly to avoid waking the boy in his arms. A slight frown crossed his face as he remembered what Gregory said about his living situation; Michael may have been in control of Freddy’s body at the time of Gregory’s confession, but the bear heard every word. “Despite the situation happening right now, objectively Gregory is safer with me than with humans that neglect him and will continue to do so. I decided that I would do my best to keep Gregory safe by my side, though I let him approach me emotionally on his own time.”

The soft smile was back now. “After we faced Monty, we stopped by the gift shop to get supplies and Gregory let the ‘dad’ moniker slip; I did not have the heart to correct him… Nor do I want to, I must admit. It… it is nice to feel so trusted.”

Sometimes the technological innovations at Fazbear Entertainment amazed the Puppet. Not only was there a robot sitting before them both that could analyze and feel complex emotions, but also had a better fraternal instinct than some human fathers she’d seen in her time.

Charlie had a feeling something was majorly wrong with Gregory's living situation. His concern involving this place never centered on the fear of where his parents might be, or if they were worried. In all the lost children she had seen, they never failed to mention that they missed their families and wanted to return to them. Though Gregory didn't seem to have anyone.

“He does need someone to look after him,” Charlie said, her head relaxed over her arms, using them as pillows and to be able to look up at her friends. “He's too sweet of a kid to be left behind.”

It made her think about her own situation. The day she was left out... Everyone had forgotten about her.

This isn't about you, Charlotte, she’d think to herself. As long as Charlie kept thinking of others, she wouldn't have to focus on the ugly truth of what happened that night.

“Agreed,” Michael said, gently patting Charlie’s back. Thankfully, he’d made sure his hook side was away from her when he sat down. He could tell she was thinking about something, probably slipping into the past just like he did. They had a lot to reminisce on, after all—both good and bad. Michael looked up at Freddy, meeting the bear’s gaze with an approving grin. “And I think you’re the perfect bear to take care of him. It’s clear he cares for you a lot already.”

“Your approval is both greatly reassuring and appreciated,” Freddy replied. He paused, then added in a soft, somber tone: “I am… sorry you did not get the parental affection you needed when you were younger, too. Based on how you are now, I am sure you were both wonderful children.” He gave the pair a little smile. “I wish I could have met you back then!”

“You would’ve been a few decades too early, Fredbear,” Michael said with a laugh, though it sounded a bit hollow. For as good as Freddy was at detecting subtle things, the robot could still be unintentionally blunt at times.

What would his and Charlie’s lives be like if William hadn’t been such a horrendous person? Or, the better question: would they have actually had lives to lead in the first place?

Unfortunately, without a way to go back and rewrite the past, the answer would forever be a mystery.

Charlie liked to think they’d only be dead on the inside if William managed to be a real father. Or had at least told his kids: 'It's alright to be sad because I'm sad, too'. Maybe then she would still be alive. She and Michael could be old people right now with their best years well spent and looking forward to retirement.

Charlie's fists had curled tightly, then released. What was the point in being angry over it? It was done.

So why couldn’t she just let go?

Charlie looked to Michael after his comforting touch. “My dad probably would’ve just adopted you, you know...”

Henry adored Michael. Maybe it was because he was William's son, or that he genuinely loved being his honorary uncle.

“If only…” Michael heaved a long, simulated sigh. Thank god one of their dads had been decent, at least. Henry did what he could for Mike over the years, despite the great toll Charlie’s death took on him. Michael didn’t want to be a burden to the only paternal figure that did seem to care, so as time went on he found himself lying more and more about how okay he was doing.

“Everything’s fine, Uncle Henry! I promise; I’m alright.”

The blatant fib still hung heavy in Michael’s chest. Surely Henry knew he wasn’t telling the truth—if it was that hard for a grown man to lose one child, he had to realize how Mike must have felt losing his sibling and his best friend. Especially since Evan’s death was—

“Are you alright, Michael?” Freddy asked, his head tilted in concern.

Mike looked down to find he’d been clenching his fist so tightly, there were now faint dents in his palm from his sharp claws. Michael simply nodded, trying to push the memories away. The last thing he needed right now was to think of Evan’s final birthday party—the start of it all. They wouldn’t be together in this room right now hiding from crazed animatronics if it wasn’t for Michael’s actions all those years ago…

Charlie perked up, looking over as she heard the metal in Foxy's hands pop back into place. Using her quick thinking, she told Freddy: “He's probably thinking about that time that Evan ate all those ice pops and threw up in Lizzie's toy chest.”

Charlie averted the sad thoughts to a better time. A time where she laughed so hard her sides felt as if they were going to split and her head would explode from their collective volume.

It wasn't Evan's fault by any means. After finishing every blue ice pop in a 50 pack box and running around in the hot summer air thanks to his brother’s encouragement, Evan began to feel nauseous. When Mike took Evan upstairs a bit too late to reach the bathroom, Charlie got to witness him evacuating his stomach into Elizabeth's toy chest, much to her dismay. A sticky blue coating that didn't wash off had stained the plastic chest, making it a horrible biohazard that remained untouched for a long while.

“It's okay, Mike. That story makes me feel sick, too,” Charlie pardoned, the sound of a smirk in her voice as she relaxed against the cool office tiles once more.

“Oh my god—the ice pops! Ohh—sorry!” Michael grimaced as his voice came out louder than he’d meant it to in his excitement. He hadn’t thought about the infamous ice pop incident of ‘81 in forever!

“That was a fiasco… I told Evan to eat as many as he wanted, but I didn’t realize he’d eat the whole box!” A snicker escaped before he could stop it, and he instinctively clapped a hand over his snout as if that would somehow help him keep his volume down. “He couldn’t look at anything blue for weeks! Remember when you got that new shirt, Charlie, and you wore it to play like two days afterwards? Evan took one look at it and immediately lost his lunch in the bushes!”

Freddy simply watched with a small smile as the pair reminisced. It was still hard for the animatronic to fully understand how ghosts worked, but times like these really proved that Charlie and Michael had once been living, breathing humans. They’d had full lives ahead of them… until those were brutally cut short.

Freddy realized that he still didn’t actually know how Charlie and Michael died, nor any of Michael’s siblings… but he certainly wasn’t going to ask. If they wanted to share such personal details, they’d do so in their own time.

Extending her arm, Charlie lightly smacked Michael’s peg leg while looking like she was struggling to hold in a laugh. She wheezed out a pathetic, “Nooo…,” while remembering the dreadful amount of times Evan had lost his lunch because of them.

“That kid had the stomach of a cocker spaniel,” Charlie compared, having to physically restrain her laughter by covering her broken face with one of her hands. “Oh—I felt so bad… That was literally the last time I wore that shirt.” She ended up retiring that new, blue Fazbear-themed shirt and just hung it on her wall to admire before drifting off to sleep.

“Speaking of getting sick,” Charlie begun to say, having a feeling that Michael already knew what story she’d remind him of next. “Working at Freddy’s over the summer, if a kid threw up you had to throw this pink… Sawdust stuff over it. We put a bunch of it into a bucket over the day manager's door and dumped it over his head—”

She forgot exactly why they’d done it. Probably to get fired, in all honesty. They loved visiting the diner as kids, but working there was another story.

“Uncle Henry was so mad!” Michael couldn’t contain his laughter anymore. “I think that’s one of the only times he actually lectured us… which was a good thing, because damn did he let us have it!”

Michael’s stability was becoming compromised as he cackled. It only took a playful shove from Charlie to send him sprawling on his back, arms and coat splayed out at his sides. The pair laughed for a little while longer until it slowly petered out, and Mike turned his head to look up at Charlie with a sigh.

“You know, we had some great times back then,” he said, and though his eyes were tinged with their usual deep-rooted sadness, for once the happiness of remembering a life long-past with friends seemed to win out. He lifted his head slightly to peer down his snout at Gregory, wondering if the boy had been woken up by their antics. He gave another huffing chuckle, pushing one of Charlie’s legs as he sunk back onto the floor. “God, imagine if we grew up in this place instead… we could get into so much trouble—it’d be amazing.”

Charlie let out a dreamy sigh. They would be two kids in a candy shop—literally. Not only would they have been relatively unsupervised, but once kids found out their fathers owned a mall with hourly concerts performing at them, they would never run out of friends. Though, Charlie was glad they grew up with their humble, leaky roof diner. Somehow she didn't think she could take the pressure of being a popular kid... Michael on the other hand she could see basking in the fair-weather love easily.

To keep them in good spirits, Charlie suggested: “We should take Gregory roller skating. People still roller skate, right?”

If she wasn't at Freddy's, Charlie was always trying to get the Aftons to go roller skating with her. Now that she reminded herself of that, Charlie was fairly certain that she wouldn't be scared of William so long as she remembered him as the uncoordinated skater in homemade jean shorts that held onto the banister or Henry the whole time.

For a rare moment, Michael also remembered his father as something other than the vicious, immortal murderer he was now. A snicker escaped the fox as he recalled their skating trips—man, did his dad suck at keeping himself upright.

“Yes, roller skating is still a pastime that people participate in,” Freddy replied. His smile was still prevalent, though his eyes held a touch of what could only be likened to regretful sadness. “We do not have a rink in the Pizzaplex, however, so therefore I would not be able to go with you. I cannot leave the building—without a recharge station, my systems would shut down within an hour. It is a safety precaution. Even the manual charging cord will not last forever.”

This was a line of thinking Freddy was shocked he hadn’t even considered. It was all well and good for him to take care of Gregory within the Pizzaplex, but… what if the boy wanted to leave?

No, it wasn’t a question of “what if”— it was a question of when? He was only twelve—not even a teenager yet. Freddy couldn’t expect the boy to completely cut off contact with the outside world just to stay with his adoptive robot father for the rest of his life.

Freddy’s gaze shifted to the fox lying on the floor. This issue begged another question: now that Michael was tied to a Pizzaplex animatronic, would he be stuck in this place just like Freddy?

Although, he hadn’t seemed to actually need to recharge like a normal animatronic, so… perhaps his ghostly nature might work in his favor this time.

This made the smile fall out of Charlie's voice.

“Oh...” Was all she could muster. She’d never been tethered to this franchise like the others. Charlie could go anywhere. It was apart of the Puppet's design, to follow Charlie and keep her safe when she needed it. So long as she wore her little green bracelet, Puppet went everywhere she did.

(She still had that green bangle—tied to the spine of her endoskeleton...)

“He doesn't know, does he?” Charlie managed to ask, watching Gregory's peaceful face as drool leaked from the corner of his lips. The kid was out cold.

Charlie refused this answer. Gregory needed his dad. And frankly, they needed Freddy as well.

“What if—and this might sound crazy... We build new bodies?” Charlie postulated, propping her head onto her hand. Despite the latest Fazbear designs being technological wonders, the design flaw of not being able to live outside the Pizzaplex posed too great of an issue for Puppet to accept.

Freddy frowned at this notion. “I… do not see how that is possible. I may be able to perform basic repairs and have an intimate understanding of my internal systems in this particular Glamrock Freddy model, but I do not have the technical prowess to build a new body from scratch.”

“…I might, though.” Michael’s voice was quiet as his mind rapidly began processing Charlie’s suggestion. He sat up, legs stuck out in front of him and resting his arms in his lap as he slowly thought aloud. “My father taught me everything he was able to about animatronics, and what I didn’t pick up from him I learned on my own. I’ve had a hand in building and repairing countless robots—I bet if we found some blueprints to work off of as a basic guide, I could whip something up in no time. Especially with that huge warehouse of parts… We probably have everything we need right below our feet.”

“Well, I… I do not know,” Freddy said hesitantly. It sounded like a good idea on the surface, but could they really pull something like this off? Regardless of William’s virus-based threat, it would be quite a feat to create new bodies that weren’t latched onto the Pizzaplex’s admittedly flawed charging system.

“Come on, Freddy—we won’t know until we try it out,” Mike encouraged. The excitement at the prospect of a new mechanical project to put his technician skills to good use was getting to him. “It’d be a crude design at first, I’ll fully admit that, but it’d be a start. Worse case, it doesn’t work and we just scrap the whole idea. But Charlie has a point—that kid in your arms isn’t going to be happy to find out that you’re stuck. We have to at least try.”

Charlie knew Michael would be on board with the chance to create something worthwhile that left all of them hoping.

“I could easily move you from Foxy to a new body. Gregory said he was good with coding, right? He'll be able to switch Freddy over once we work out the more technical bugs!” Charlie mused aloud, working out the details in her mind.

Although… totally abandoning this place wasn't ideal; those other children still needed to be put at rest. As this thought crossed Puppet's mind, Charlie began to fret some.

“If we find those other kids—the ones on the missing posters—I could leave a Gift for them...,” she mentioned, looking down at her hands. “You know, before we leave and everything.”

“A Gift?” Freddy questioned, glad for the slight shift in topic. He wasn’t saying “no” to this crazy scheme, but he definitely needed time to think things over before fully committing to the idea of moving to a new body and leaving the only place he’d ever known. “What sort of Gift, Charlie?”

Michael grimaced—it hit him that while Freddy accepted their strange supernatural situation, there was still so much he didn’t understand. Then Michael remembered the whole reason he’d hopped in Foxy was because Freddy had been down for the count, so the bear didn’t actually know what Charlie had done to move him. He probably thought Michael simply hijacked his old friend’s body the same way he’d hijacked Freddy’s own.

“Charlie is… a special ghost,” Michael began, his speech a bit stilted. It might be best for Charlie to explain the details since there were aspects of her Gift even he didn’t understand, but he could at least get the conversation started. “She’s got… well, I like to call it magic, but I suppose ‘powers’ is the better term.” The fox’s head tilted towards the Puppet, his long mane brushing over her thin body as Michael silently prompted her to continue.

“Oh yeah...” Charlie, when she’d begun to bestow these 'Gifts,' hadn't realized the full ramifications of her actions. The precise correlation between a deeply traumatic death and fusing those souls to metal and circuit boards were still unknowns to her. She just knew she had to do something for those poor, terrified souls.

The day she watched in horror as that golden bunny took children one by one from the main party room was forever burned into her brain. The fact he tried to make it nice for them was sickening. The presentation of birthday cake and presents. Old, out of commission boxed arcade games fixed and powered on at the children's whim...

Every soul was innocent. In their words, it'd been their happiest day.

When William left, Charlie had doled out her Gifts. Presents that mattered most. She tied their souls to the animatronics they had been stuffed inside of. Angry, vindictive children that cornered anyone who even remotely resembled the security guard that took their lives.

This, Charlie attempted to explain to Freddy as delicately as possible, without touching on her own death. Sometimes she still wondered why her?

“I thought he cared about me—us... Why did he do that?” Charlie asked this pretty casually, as if this question was simple. “I know he missed Evan. I was only trying to cheer him up. How was I supposed to know he'd be mad at me...”

Whatever happened in the alleyway where Charlie was found had triggered it all. Knowing her, it'd been a prank—ill-timed at a point where William felt most impulsive.

“I heard a story once that the more violent your death is, the scarier you are as a ghost... Do you guys think that's true?” Charlie remarked after her grim tale had come to an end.

“Well… maybe,” Michael replied softly. Hearing Charlie’s story of trying to give innocent, dead children new life spelled out so casually, as if she were discussing the latest weather report was jarring. She said so many things Michael didn’t know, so many facts he hadn’t been aware of until this moment… the whole situation was even more horrific, though Mike didn’t know how that was even possible.

Still, it wouldn’t do to dwell in the past—especially not with the utterly sympathetic but confused face Freddy was giving them.

“I don’t think that’s completely true, though.” Michael gave Charlie the faintest of grins, despite the underlying horror of his next words. “I mean, my death was pretty bad, too… and look how I turned out!” He nudged her again, maybe a bit too hard to match the strength he used to push the worst of the memories down.

There was a beat as Charlie glanced over Mike, recovering from the nudge before belting out with laughter. Her way of coping was strange, though she was sure that Michael could relate.

“You're right—that was brutal and you just turned into a marshmallow.” Charlie giggled, quickly quieting herself as to not disturb Gregory. Thankfully the kid slept like a rock through their little therapy session. She was happy that her friends didn't see her choice to give the kids a second chance at life as barbaric or cruel. Even if one of those Gifted kids thought that way...

“Seriously—I think you turned out great, all things considering,” Charlie stressed. She knew how badly her friend tended to doubt himself, and hoped these encouraging words did something for him as she went back to a state of calm about their situation.

“Thanks; so did you,” Michael replied, the sincerity behind his eyes clear as day. After another moment of silence, Freddy chimed in.

“I think you both turned out to be wonderful souls,” the bear murmured softly, his grip on Gregory tightening as he thought about what could’ve become of this child had all of them not been there to protect him tonight. “Your compassion for others is unrivaled; you have shown more love and protectiveness towards Gregory—and even myself—than I have seen a lot of guardians show towards their children when visiting the Pizzaplex.”

He gave the pair on the floor a beaming smile, his face as kind as an animatronic bear’s could be. “I am honored to call you both my friends.”

Charlie hadn't thought of it in that light before. As Freddy praised their behavior, she considered his words. Not only were she and Michael lucky to have at least grown into fairly functioning adults, they were lucky now—Freddy had been a blessing in disguise. The apparent culmination of both hers and Mike's childhood fears turned out to be their only friend in this whole mall. Any mistrust of one another had left long ago.

“I think we're going to be okay, guys—as long as we stick together,” Charlie murmured, feeling rested and relaxed behind the secured doors of this central hub.

Chapter Text

The night's not over yet
You can't escape me
You really can't forget
You can't escape me
The party's just begun
You can't escape me
You can try, that just makes things more fun!

~You Can’t Escape Me by Dagames~

Together they would reminisce, the old ghosts regaling Freddy of their childhood misadventures until Gregory begun to stir from his nap. When he realized he’d fallen asleep for a few hours, he shot up and glanced around.

“Morning, sunshine,” Charlie told him, attempting to placate with a firm hand on his back. “It's almost 6, buddy...”

With dawn, it was time to discuss the elephant in the room. What was best for Gregory moving forward?

Luckily, Freddy had been thinking through a plan while the others spun their tales. He held Gregory securely as the boy’s heart rate calmed down once he realized he was safe and sound with his protectors.

“Good morning, superstar; do not worry, I have an idea of how to get through the dayshift.” Freddy’s gaze moved between Michael and Charlie as he explained. “There is a fair chance the Pizzaplex will be closed due to the other animatronics being in such a distressed state. In these cases, we are confined to our rooms. Since there are no guests to entertain, there is no need for us to walk around; the only times we are taken out are for routine maintenance.”

He looked around the security office for a moment, letting out a small sigh.

“Ideally we could stay here, but I know that this office is used by dayshift staff… so I think the best thing would be to move our base temporarily to my room,” Freddy continued. “We will keep the curtains shut and stay quiet, and if anyone comes by you three can hide in the back storage area. Charlie and Gregory can fit in the storage lockers, and Michael—” He gave the fox an apologetic sort of smile. “It is not a perfect spot, but your best bet would be to stand in my charging station and cover the window with your cloak.”

Everyone took a moment to think about this idea. Nothing could guarantee Gregory’s safety from other animatronics as much as being in the security office, but… maybe things would be different during the day. Hopefully they’d be less ravenous for human children, at the very least.

“I think that’s the best idea we have,” Michael eventually agreed. “We should probably pick up some food and water for Gregory soon, though—we definitely don’t want to be wandering around for any reason.”

Gregory was going to ask for another bag of Toxic Gummy Bunnies, though his favorite sour-candy may have been ruined by the thoughts of those gummies wanting to inject him with an odd, purple liquid.

“Can I have pizza for breakfast?” he asked, knowing it probably had more substance than the bags full of candy and Fizzy Faz he'd been subsisting on for the past week. He thought about the state of his teeth because of it as well. There was a gross film of plaque that had caked his back molars, and overall Gregory needed water.

After looking to the clock, Charlie reckoned the employees would be coming in soon but there was enough time to fetch their human ward some grub. She’d never complain when it came to food. And anyway, the Fazbear industry was a known death trap. So why shouldn't the food slowly kill you, too?

“Normally I would discourage such a meal first thing in the day, but I believe we can make an exception,” Freddy remarked, giving Gregory a little squeeze before standing to take his hand. “Let us stop by the Faz Pad; it is the closest restaurant and will have the most options.”

“The coast looks clear,” Michael said, scanning the multitude of camera feeds as he slowly got to his feet, tugging Charlie with him. “We’re right behind you guys.”

Gregory had been somewhat cranky. Not outwardly mean to his caregivers but certainly fidgety. It seemed he wasn't a big fan of mornings and was still adjusting from last night’s horror-fest. He was good for them though, and held onto Freddy's hand as they roamed through the very quiet Pizzaplex as morning light shined in.

All was quiet again. The oppressive air from last night had been lifted, in its place a tranquility that one only knew of after hours of relentless chasing. The Faz Pad's automatic lights were on as they arrived. S.T.A.F.F. bots moved slowly around counters and tables to disinfect and clean their surfaces, practically ignoring the four of them aside from occasionally being in their way. Gregory was happy he could sit relatively unguarded at one of stools set up by the pink neon counter as he scanned the menu.

“Let’s see… what’s good to eat in this place?” Michael asked, ignoring the pained creak of metal under his weight as he slid into the stool next to Gregory’s. Freddy was in the back gathering pizza, water, and anything else he thought Gregory might need for the long day ahead, leaving Mike and Charlie to keep watch and entertain said kid. Michael looked over the menu, his eyes widening at all the options.

“Oh, what I wouldn’t give for a burger and side of chips…,” he murmured, knowing he’d be drooling at the colorful pictures of greasy food if he could. He chuckled, turning to Charlie who was stationed near the entrance. “Hey, remember that time we went to the local dinner with our siblings and just got a huge bucket? The five of us demolished that thing in like thirty minutes!”

Mike continued to snicker as he turned back to the counter. “I swear I was wiping grease off my fingers for days after that…”

Charlie stopped her stalwart watch to glance towards her friends, noting Gregory’s particular look of interest. Charlie must’ve been around his age when they took that trip to their local 24-hour diner. She leaned in on her hands and laughed. “Dude, I was so bloated. I don't think I've ever found another place that oils their fries like that!”

As Gregory listened to their insider story, he wondered if he closed his eyes he could imagine what they looked like. He’d seen Michael's ghost, so that was easier to picture even it'd only been a split-second view. It was much harder to put a name to a face when it came to Charlie. 

“I think if I could eat, I'd go back there and down a whole bucket myself!” she mused. It was worth the acne she’d gotten for sure, though that was another time she swore Evan was going to puke. “Remember how Lizzie still ordered ice cream after?”

“I swear that girl had a second stomach for the stuff.” Michael shook his head, the grin on his face still prominent. “But that was fine with me—Evan and I much preferred ice pops. Swore by the blue ones.” He let out a snort, remembering an anecdote from earlier. “Well, until he ate too many; then he decided he liked the red ones instead and stole all mine…”

Michael huffed, though it was full of more brotherly affection than annoyance. He looked at Gregory, lightly tapping the desserts section of the laminated menu. “Anyway, what kind of kid are you, Gregory—an ice cream kid or an ice pop one?”

It was a summer ritual for the Afton boys, Charlie noticed. Every night after dinner Mike would grab popsicles for him and Evan without fail. As soon as the air was warm and humid, that was when Mr. Afton’s fridge was stockpiled with boxes of the stuff.

Gregory had been asked a good question. What did he prefer? As he glanced away in search of an answer, a cake trapped beneath a glass case caught his eye. With an instantly watering mouth he remembered the best dessert he ever had.

“Does ice cream cake count?” He answered with a question, which had Charlie placing her hands on her head.

“I totally forgot about ice cream cake—” she said as if new avenues were suddenly open to them.

“—with blue icing.” Gregory decided, as if he was some kind of icing connoisseur.

“Oh yeah, ice cream and cake, all in one?” Michael gave an approving nod. “That’s definitely the best. They’ve got to serve that somewhere in this huge place, right…?”

“Not in this location, but they do have a variety of options in Chica’s bakery upstairs,” Freddy replied, finally coming out of the kitchen. In his hands was a box pizza, and hung over his left wrist was a plastic bag full of drinks and other assorted snacks. He shuffled out from behind the counter and started for the door, speaking over his shoulder. “Come on, let us hurry back to my room; I can show you everything I picked out when we are there and Gregory can finally eat.”

Michael hopped off the bar stool, wincing as he heard the metal squeak again—he felt sorry for the next person to sit there because he had a feeling he probably broke down the integrity of the seat quite a bit…

Gregory was definitely going to need a dentist when he got out. All those breakfast Fizzy Faz's were about to reduce his teeth to carbon ash by the time he turned sixteen. Still, he was pretty stoked to try the Roxy flavor that he peeked at from inside the takeout bag. He seemed to have a bit more energy and hopped off his stool with a grin.

“You guys excited for pizza?!” Gregory said, so overtaken by the greasy delight he forgot he’d been spending time with things that realistically couldn't—or shouldn't—try to eat.

“Uh... For sure, little dude!” Charlie replied, hating to burst Gregory's bubble. It certainly didn't hurt to pretend for a moment that she could.

“Am I excited for pizza? Hel—Heck yes. Should I be excited? ...Probably not so much.” Mike decided to take a slightly more realistic approach when answering, though he made a point to avoid outright saying “no.” Would he actually put a piece of cheese, mystery meat, and tomato-topped dough in Foxy's mouth if Gregory offered it to him?

...Yes, if only to stop the look of disappointed realization that was spreading across the boy's face.

“You've just got to eat extra slices for Charlie and I, alright?” Michael added, holding out his paw for Gregory to take as they walked. He leaned down to murmur conspiratorially in his ear. “And also make sure to drink an extra Fizzy Faz for me when Freddy's not looking, okay?”

“I heard that, Michael,” Freddy said, not even bothering to turn around, though his tone indicated that he wasn't actually annoyed—he knew Michael was just trying to cheer Gregory up. Although, he wouldn't put it past the fox to help Gregory follow through on his suggestion.

Hmm... Freddy would have to keep an eye on those two when they paired up so they didn't get into more trouble, no matter how innocent.

This would make Gregory burst into a snicker, happily grasping onto Michael's paw. With his free hand, he mimicked zipping up his lips, silently telling Mike he'll keep the secret before shushing him, as if he was already blowing their cover. The sight made Charlie laugh as she got the door for the four of them.

She could see it now—the trend of bad decisions when they were unsupervised would continue to grow. How long would it be before Charlie got sucked into their antics?

At least the two of them meant well, she thought as they spilled into the mall again. Morning sunlight came through the atrium windows, basking the hall in a muted orange glow.

“Hey, look guys—Moon won't be able to bother us anymore.”

Gregory rolled his eyes. Moon...

“Eh, he was afraid of flashlights. He can come back when he scratches a hole in my cheek,” the boy replied in a jaded manner, touching the bandage on his face.

“I wonder if Sun would ever un-ban you from the Daycare,” Michael thought aloud, though he quickly grimaced as he remembered their prior visit. He'd still been stuck inside the Freddy then, and had to watch helplessly through his eyes as Gregory and Charlie were chased around like crazy by Sun's alter ego. “...Not that I necessarily want to go back anytime soon.”

“I think once we get this virus cleared up, Sun will be quite amiable to letting Gregory back in,” Freddy replied with a soft chuckle.

It didn't take long for the group to reach Freddy's room, and after checking to make sure the door was locked and the curtains still tightly closed, the bear set the pizza down on the coffee table in front of the couch. It was shaped like a star, which was great for the aesthetic but horrible in terms of practicality, as it was only able to fit the pizza box and nothing else. So, Freddy simply emptied the contents of the plastic bag onto the floor, laying everything out for Gregory to examine. Along with a whole bunch of napkins, Freddy had grabbed three bottles of water and one of each Fizzy Faz flavor, as well as a few assorted bags of chips and a pre-made PB&J sandwich, if only for Gregory to have something minutely healthier than pizza for one meal.

“Thanks for the grub, Dad!” Gregory made sure to say, sliding towards the table fast as he reached for a handful of napkin.

Charlie had gone to the window, drawing the curtains tighter than before. When she turned around, it was to see the kid scarfing down the pizza fervently. “Dude, slow down!”

She laughed, deciding to pick him up and get him situated on the couch. He wouldn't answer now that he was eating a warm meal, though he didn't seem to complain in the slightest about being relocated.

“You're going to inhale that whole pizza without even tasting it,” she warned. Fazbear's pizza had always been suspicious with its ingredients, but she remembered inhaling the unhealthy slab of grease and cheese the same way. She couldn't forget the look Henry gave her that one time she told Mike that her and Sammy witnessed their fathers put a little something extra in the sauce. He claimed that the customers came back because it was good all on its own after scolding her lightly for the silly lie.

“Yes, save some for later, superstar—we must make this food last until the dayshift staff leaves,” Freddy said gently, though he couldn't help but chuckle at Gregory's clear excitement. It warmed his mechanical heart to see him happy and enjoying something for once.

Michael had settled himself on the floor, curious to examine these infamous Fizzy Faz drinks now that he had them all laid out. They were... interesting, to say the least. Orange soda was the most standard, and Mike found it ironic that this was Freddy's brand—a classic flavor to match a classic character. Grape wasn't too bad either, though the concept of carbonated pink lemonade and sour lime was something Michael couldn't quite imagine. He'd have to ask Gregory to describe what exactly these things tasted like the next time he tried one.

“If I eat one slice an hour, I'll be able to last to night shift.” Gregory said, thinking about how he'd portion his slices in advance. He even decided the peanut butter and jelly were to be an auxiliary snack. There would be no need to stress about another food run for him, at least for today.

Meanwhile, Charlie was thinking about how she would give a limb to taste what the orange soda was like. She remembered the orange creamsicle fountain drink at the diner and hoped that someone in this company had the sense to make it similar. Though even if it was new, she wouldn't complain. To be able to taste any kind of soda would be amazing.

As if he read her mind, Gregory looked to Michael, swallowing a lump of pizza to ask him, “Could you pass me the orange one please?”, bouncing slightly when Charlie decided to crash onto the couch next to him.

“Ready?” Mike met Gregory's gaze as he picked up the can, throwing it experimentally into the air and catching it with his paw. Upon Gregory's nod, Michael tossed the drink in an expert arc that fell perfectly into the boy's waiting hands. The fox blinked, surprised that it'd actually worked—he half expected the soda to bean the kid in the head if Charlie's reflexes didn't kick in fast enough to stop it. “Whoa... guess that was some internal precision-based programming kicking in.”

Gregory opened the can, its cracking noise followed by a light spray of the soft drink. It made Charlie raise her arms as the sugary spritz of orange soda splashed her slightly. It wasn't a big deal, she had been covered in worse over the years. But Gregory still sent her an apologetic look before taking a sip.

While the soda situation was being addressed, Freddy moved to the window, leaning as close as he could without jostling the curtains too much. There were definitely people outside now, their tired chatter heard mutely through the glass. Freddy looked back to the group and pressed a finger over his mouth, signaling for them to lower their voices.

“The glass is thick so we do not have to be completely silent unless we hear someone right outside, but we should still speak in a whisper just to be safe,” the bear informed them in the exact sort of hushed tone he wanted the others to use.

Outside's morning crew looked somewhat baffled at the state they found Chica in. Judging by the body language as she sat by a planter, head in her hands, it appeared they were scolding her. None of the Glamrocks should've been out of their rooms, yet Chica appeared to be covered in pizza grease and scuff marks galore. Worst of all, when she tried to explain herself she couldn't even remember how she’d gotten all the way back to the main stage!

“Are they going to arrest her?” Gregory asked, as the day shift's blue-buttoned shirts sort of reminded him of a mall cops. He was just barely able to peer past Freddy through the curtains, mostly hidden behind the bear's leg. “If they can, they should.”

“No, they are not going to arrest her,” Freddy replied, shooing Gregory back so he wouldn't be seen by passing employees. “They will likely take her to Parts & Service once they finish lecturing her for getting so damaged, and then they will—”

Freddy cut himself off, eyes widening as a thought struck him. Finding one animatronic dirty and damaged could be chalked up to a malfunction specific to that character alone. But if they found Roxy—or worse, Monty—in similar states... 

“Freddy, what's wrong?” Mike asked, coming up to the window and pushing Gregory even further back into the room. As Michael watched he saw one of the staff members gathered around Chica suddenly break off and head right for their position. “Shit!”

“Language, Michael!” Freddy chided, quickly pulling the curtain closed and turning to face the others. “You must hide now—I think I am about to be taken to Parts & Service with the rest of the animatronics. Hopefully they will let me go if they see that nothing major is wrong with me, but please lock the door after I leave and stay hidden in the back until I return.”

“Should we take the pizza?!” asked Gregory in a hurried voice. He threw his slice into the box and managed to close it before Charlie could wrap her hands around him and lift him off the ground.

“Forget the pizza! Mike, get the door. Let's get you to the recharge station—” Heading for the backrooms, the three of them fled as a girl with tanned skin and curly red hair knocked at Freddy's door.

Mike followed Charlie's instructions, closing off the backroom just as he heard the knock. In mild panic mode, when Puppet handed off the kid he instinctively pulled Gregory inside the recharge station, apologizing for the constricting space. Mike hadn’t been in one after obtaining his new body, his ghostly soul enough to keep Foxy working without regard for battery power. The electrical whirring that auto-started when he closed the pod made him jump at first, although his body did connect and began to fill his apparently depleted battery. It was a weird sensation, but also relaxing in a strange way. He wondered if the Glamrocks enjoyed their small breaks away from the world in these things—he sure would if he was a normal robot.

Satisfied that Gregory was hidden despite the unconventional spot, Charlie gave the boys two thumbs up from outside the charging station and carefully climbed one of the many shelving units, slotting herself in a darkened corner.

Gregory hadn’t been fussy about being haphazardly shoved into the pod with Michael. It may have been boring, but Foxy’s peg leg gave him more range of motion to chill with. Freddy was just bulky enough that Gregory knew staying in the pods for too long even without being in his stomach compartment would feel claustrophobic fast.

***

The knock was easy going and patient, the voice behind it muffled by thick metal. “Mornin', Freddy! You awake?”

“Good morning!” Freddy replied, setting his face into its default smile. Opening the door, he was relieved to see who it was—though barely starting the job a week ago, this girl had already cemented herself between humans and robots alike as one of the nicest employees by a mile. “It is nice to see you; how are you today?”

The short, kindly security guard outside had an odd name. Or, it’d be more accurate to say that her nametag was strange, reading: “Soapie.” Her first order of business was to give Freddy an ocular pat down. She already knew he’d been out of his room that day from the dirt on his legs, but the thing that stuck out to her most were his hands.

Those green and purple claws did not belong to Freddy Fazbear…

“Hey, big guy!” Soapie replied, knowing she’d get more cooperation from the ursine robot by being as sweet as honey. Her curls bounced as she glanced inside the room, noting some snacks scattered around the table. Yet another odd thing—not only should Freddy be free of dirt, his room shouldn’t have a mess within either. He’d been out of commission and barred from visitors due to his concert malfunction, so he most definitely hadn't had Meet & Greets since a few days ago.

“Looks like you had a big night too, huh?” she finally concluded, her eyes roaming back to those hands. With a sickening twist in the pit of her stomach, the guard finally realized exactly who those claws belonged to: Monty—who’d been missing all morning.

Darn. In the scatter of making sure the others were safe, Freddy had completely forgotten about his new set of appendages. So much for convincing the staff there was nothing wrong with him…

“Ah… yes,” Freddy admitted, looking apologetic as he sheepishly clasped Monty’s hands behind his back. He certainly wasn’t going to tell this woman all the details, though—not without some heavy editing on his part.

“Things were a bit… strange last night. The other animatronics were not acting like themselves—have you gotten an opportunity to speak with them, by any chance?” He paused, tilting his head in concern. “Or perhaps Officer Vanessa? She seemed quite under the weather as well—has she made contact with anyone this morning?”

Soapie let out a whispery laugh, crossing her arms as she nodded, softly interrogating the bear as she decided to answer his questions. “Yeah, we kinda gathered that. We found Roxy at the raceway—you know, as per usual. I just spoke to Ness over the radio, and she was telling me she had issues corralling you all. You know how understaffing at night goes…”

Though she hadn’t actually seen her boss yet, Soapie wasn’t worried. Most of the nights here were fairly calm, although there was a clearly a programming bug going around that seemed to be infecting the robots like a kid with a cold.  

“I found Chica with a torn up pizza box in her stomach hatch. Can you believe that?” asked the guard, who seemed to have nothing but genuine concern for the programmed personalities. With a smile, she stepped out of the way for Freddy to exit. “Don’t worry though, we’re going to take everyone to Parts & Service for a quick tune up and shine—you included, Fredbear.”

Soapie had made it seem like a suggestion, when in reality Vanessa wanted her and the others to gather the band together asap.

“Of course,” Freddy agreed, following obediently. At least if he was gone, staff should have no reason to go into his room—hopefully the others would be safe and sound until he returned.

He allowed the young woman to take the lead, musing on whet she’d said as he followed behind. So “Vanessa” was back this morning—Freddy had been worried that William’s influence was now infecting her 24/7, but that didn’t seem to be the case. He couldn’t confirm this unless he actually saw her, of course, but he had a feeling “Vanny” couldn’t keep up the ruse of being her opposite persona for more than a few seconds.

They caught up to Chica just as her lecture was coming to an end. Freddy watched her closely for signs of the crazed animatronic he’d seen last night, but as she spotted him he could tell that the bright, happy light in her eyes was the same as it should be.

The poor chicken even seemed embarrassed. Chica was as much a rebel as Roxy at times when it came to coming and leaving her room. But she’d never overdone it like she had last night, and with them finding pizza boxes swallowed and shoved inside her chest cavity, she’d been given a rather stern talking to.

On her radio, Soapie called in to her boss. “Hey, Ness. I’ve got Chica and Freddy; taking them to the service elevator now. Over.”

Giving the two robotic friends a wide smile, she told Chica: “Come on, no long faces okay? We’re just gonna go to Parts & Service, ask some questions, then get you guys cleaned up.” It seemed that they believed so wholly in the software issue that no punishments would be doled out today.

“I just wished I remembered…” Chica sighed, managing to smile when she saw Freddy, despite her surprise at the state of the normally-composed bear. With his hands conveniently kept out of her sightline, she had no reason to question the green claws. “You too, Fred?”

“Unfortunately so,” Freddy said, hanging his head in mock shame. Chica’s words rang heavy in his ears. He knew they got temporary amnesia when Gregory moved out of sight after they’d spotted him, but to not recall any of their actions last night was quite a feat. Freddy quickly realized that if he wanted to get through this situation in one piece, he’d best play along.

“My recollection of the night is unclear—I believe there is an issue with my memory banks,” the bear added with a frown. He looked at Chica with eyes full of confusion, hoping she’d believe him in his distress—the anxiety was real alright, but the cause of it was wherein Freddy’s fib lied. “Do you remember anything that happened?”

Chica seemed to feel a great deal of sympathy in that moment. It was scary not knowing what you were up to. However, the excitable chicken was programmed specifically to be one of the most uplifting animatronics around. Nothing bad ever lasts forever, and she was determined to prove it!

“Don’t worry, Freddy! They’re going to fix us up—we’ll be back playing concerts in no time!” Chica assured. Unfortunately, at Freddy’s question she drew a blank. It was terrible; just like every night this week her memory was going bad.

“Uh… I think I ran into a Foxy cardboard cutout and had a mini freak-out. Other than that? Nothin’!” Chica let out a small, genuine laugh. It’s not as if she could imagine herself doing anything crazy like hunting down people like some apex predator. There was no need to be so morose. “It’s just kinda embarrassing. Apparently I ate a bunch of pizza last night, box and all. I’ve gotta go get my endo scraped again…”

The security guard that led them into an unlocked service elevator patted her arm. It must be torturous to be designed with an endless love of food, yet unable to consume it.

“We’ll get you nice and clean for the kids next week,” she dutifully assured as their descent began. At Freddy’s questioning gaze, she cleared her throat and scratched the side of her face. “I’ve got a feeling the Big Boss is going to close us down for a few days; there’s a lot of weird stuff going on, and with him at that huge stakeholders meeting and not here to manage it all, he’s probably losing his mind.”

“Ah. That makes sense.” Freddy offered a tiny smile as the elevator began to move. “That is probably for the best until we can sort all of these odd bugs out.”

Looking to Chica, his face softened. This was the bird he knew—positive and optimistic. Freddy wanted to reach out and comfort her as well, but she hadn’t seemed to notice Monty’s claws yet and he did not want to bring any extra attention to them.

Speaking of which… the guard hadn’t said anything about actually finding Monty, only Chica and Roxy. He’d been in such a sorry state, it was impossible for them not to locate spare parts chopped on that little stage. Hopefully Freddy could get out of there before the gator caught sight of his claws; the bear was still trying to figure out a way to explain them to the technicians, although it seemed like amnesia was going to be the best route for most of this.

Freddy gave a soft laugh, not wanting the others to grow concerned if he got lost in his thoughts too long. While Freddy had the tendency to “think” the most out of all the Glamrocks, it was because he’d been designed as the most protective and logical of the group—as the leader of the band, it was his duty to keep the others in check. He could get away with pausing while his “systems” figured out how to respond or what to do next, but there was an unspoken time limit to this that would be cause for alarm if he continually overstepped it.

“Those life-size cutouts can be jarring; I sometimes come upon one rounding a corner and am surprised when they do not answer me back!” the bear said in response to Chica’s earlier comment, trying to add his own levity to the situation. She’d clearly run into Michael last night, which the fox in question neglected to tell them about. Although, with the William incident likely occurring right afterwards, Freddy couldn’t blame him for forgetting such a comparatively small detail.

Chica let out a sigh. “I'm so glad I'm not the only one! Roxy's lucky she doesn't have that problem. I wonder if Monty gets spooked… We'll have to ask him when we see him.”

The nice security guard, who’d been casually listening to their easygoing dialogue with interest, quirked her brows just slightly. The change in her face was minute, clearly not meant to cause worry.

“That reminds me, uh—” Soapie reached for her walkie, murmuring into the receiver. “Hey, Ness? We're en route for Parts & Services. Did you find Montgomery yet?”

Impatient for an answer, she drummed her fingers over the back of the plastic communication device. He’d been missing from the get go, which was odd for an animatronic, and even stranger for the biggest in the Glamrock band. Adding in every light completely busted in Monty's room, she had a bad feeling right from the start.

Static issued from the walkie for a few seconds, before the telltale beep of the receiver. There was a bit of fumbling before Vanessa’s voice issued forth, sounding a bit far away.

“Ugh, stupid fuckin’—” More shuffling, then her voice came though as loud and clear as the walkie would allow. “Okay—hello? Can you hear me?”

Upon Soapie’s confirmation, Vanessa let out a sigh. Her voice was tired, the exhaustion of the night obviously taking its toll. Something definitely went down… even if Ness didn’t remember 90% of it. If the animatronics weren’t enough proof, her broken wrist surely was.

“So, uh… Monty.” Vanessa paused, her finger still holding the mic down, and the faint sounds of the golf course could be heard in the background. She’d been actively looking for the gator when her coworker called. “We… kind of found him. This is gonna sound really weird but… we found his lower half. I don’t know what the fuck he got up to last night, but it seems like he fell off the catwalks, hit a beam, and got snapped in two.” She paused to grimace, her eyes roaming over the long path he’d taken in his fall. “Thing is, though, his upper torso’s still MIA. We’ve looked everywhere and it’s just… gone.”

Freddy’s eyes widened, but he managed to keep the full-body startle response in check. He couldn’t seem too emotional, even though Vanessa’s statement made him very, very nervous.

Had William taken Monty’s body? If so—why? And why not the whole thing?

Yet again, there were too many questions and not enough answers.

The dayshift guard stepped out of the lift, listening to Vanessa with furrowed brows. That hadn’t been the answer she expected at all, and frankly the fact that even happened to Monty stressed her out. It was going to come out of someone’s paycheck if they didn’t resolve the issue by the time the boss rolled back into the office. Soapie gripped her hair, a self-soothing tactic, only to find Chica in much dire straits over her friend.

“Monty fell?!” the bird gasped, rhetorically questioning the information presented to her. “W—What? Where could the rest of him be?”

Chica leaned against the lift walls as she tried to look past the shock. What had startled her further was Freddy’s lack of concerned reaction. She noted it from the corner of her eye.

“Isn’t that just awful, Fred?” she asked, the concern for both him and Monty apparent.

“Chica, look at me—relax. You’re gonna overheat your circuits. We’ll find the rest of him!” Soapie promised. She wasn’t about to let 500 whole pounds of animatronic tech go missing like that. Monty probably just… crawled off somewhere. Those Glamrocks were designed to keep working even if they were nothing more than a severed head.

Freddy’s arms were once again clasped behind his back as he offered Chica a reassuring smile. His eyes still held concern, though he didn’t want to make Chica more worried than she already was. His goal was to comfort her as best he could, like good friends were supposed to do.

“I am sure Monty will be alright,” the bear said, voice calm and measured. “You know him—he is very resilient.”

Apparently more so than any of us realized, he thought. Where in the world could that gator be?

“He will turn up soon enough,” Freddy continued aloud, moving closer to gently bump shoulders with his bird friend. In normal circumstances, this is when he’d pull her into a hug—in general, Chica appreciated more physical affection than the others, but especially when something went wrong. For now, the nudge would have to do. Freddy was really regretting getting these upgraded claws; they’d been nothing but trouble from the get-go.

Chica might have amnesia from the night shift, but she would absolutely remember the way Freddy was acting. While it was comforting to hear his words of assurance, Chica could just tell something was off.

It's a programming bug; he's had it since yesterday night, she told herself, trying not to dwell on the negatives. When they find Monty, maybe he'll know something. Chica held her arms in a self-hug as they walked into the frankly messy Parts & Service room.

“You party animals really tore the place up last night,” Soapie remarked with a snort, noting how Roxy actually listened to her for once and stayed inside the repair cylinder. She wasn’t one to scold the funny animatronic creatures. It's not as if their AI was capable of taking those criticisms to heart, she always figured.

Roxy sat, trapped in a case of her own ennui. Her claws rapped impatiently against the chair, but she perked up instantly upon seeing her friends and flashed them a razor-sharp smile.

“Man, you guys took your sweet time!” Roxy playfully chided. She’d already been scrubbed clean, though the dents in her casing were apparent in the bright fluorescent lighting.

Seeing Roxy cleaned off and looking much closer to her normal self gave Freddy a hesitant sense of relief. Yes, she was littered with dents and he was certain the virus still lingered in the back of her mind, waiting for the perfect time to reactivate… but for now, it seemed like she was okay.

“Hello, Roxy!” Freddy greeted brightly, inclining his head in lieu of waving. He could feel Chica’s eyes on him, watching him like a hawk. She could tell something was wrong, that much was obvious, but Freddy just hoped she chalked it up to a system-wide issue they were all going through. Freddy stepped up the cylinder, looking through the glass to where Roxy sat in the chair.

“I hear they caught you in the racetrack again,” he said with a light chuckle. Usually she’d either be in the beauty salon primping herself to perfection or practicing her skills on the raceway, both of which caused her to lose track of time, get caught by dayshift staff, and reprimanded for leaving her room.

Freddy wished it had been another one of those situations. Only he was aware of her true goal last night of hunting down a lost child.

Roxy laughed in response. She inclined her head, freshly-groomed mane bouncing as she rolled her eyes.

“If only I could live at the raceway. It's meant to be—I don't even remember getting down there!” she replied with a dreamy sigh.

One day she'd convince them to let her room be inside the actual attraction. Sometimes it was easy for the Glamrocks to forget they weren't actually rockstars with people willing to give them whatever they wanted with nary a snap of their brightly painted, metallic claws. They were mascots to a franchise, owned by a single human man and his band of shadowed shareholders. It was more convenient for the consuming masses to go where all the robots could be seen one right after another.

Chica sat down on the chair, close to Roxy but avoiding touching her for fear of greasing her up by accident.

“You'd run up the electricity bill again if they let you sleep there!” Chica laughed, making Roxy smile.

“Hey, you still there?” Vanessa’s voice crackled through the walkie. “I’m coming down to Parts & Service now with what we’ve got; I’ll be there in about 10 minutes.”

“Copy that! I'm with the others.” The dayshift guard walked away to answer her boss, giving the robots some room to have their own conversation while she paced. “Could you check the Daycare for the attendant on your way? I couldn't find him anywhere.”

Hopefully someone had been able to locate the lanky, sky-themed robot—and even better, hopefully he didn’t need and repairs like the rest of the crew. It’d be double-weird to see him out of his natural habitat.

“Rodger that—I’ll swing by the Daycare and see if I can find him,” Vanessa replied. “Over and out.”

The walkie clicked off, and the night guard changed direction to head for the Daycare, grumbling to herself as she did so. Man did she have one hell of a headache…

Freddy chuckled more at Chica’s statement, nodding in agreement. He moved to stand in the cylinder facing her and Roxy, leaning casually against the window with arms still crossed behind his back. It was already easier to interact with the girls now that they were together, their natural ability to get along infectious.

“The raceway is certainly one of the most entertaining attractions in the Pizzaplex, I must admit,” Freddy had to concede, then flashed Roxy what could only be considered a smug grin. “Although Fazer Blast is a close competitor in terms of guest enjoyment.”

Each animatronic had their own attraction, and though Fazer Blast was arguably the least themed to its animatronic, it was technically Freddy’s. Despite the unfortunate encounter that Mike and Gregory had inside the arena last night, Freddy still held a sense of pride for the game itself.

Roxy subtly sent a smirk Freddy’s way. She couldn’t deny that kids were always begging their parents to buy the two for one party passes so they could go from one high-octane attraction to another.

“It’s a classic combination if you ask me. What day of go-karting isn’t complete without a few rounds of laser tag?” Roxy reasoned, letting Freddy have his kudos while reminding him who the fan favorite still belonged to.

With an indignant squawk, ever defensive about the popularity of her own attraction, Chica questioned: “What about Mazercise?!”

Roxy, at the risk of dirtying her arm, snaked it around Chica’s shoulders and squeezed the chicken into a close hug that instantly cheered her up.

“Chica, honey… No one likes mazes and kids don’t like fitness,” Roxy said in an air of joking bluntness, though a kernel of truth may have slipped through. It made Chica laugh, playfully pushing the wolf away as she pretended to be sadder than she really was.

Coming back towards the group, Soapie clapped her hands together to gain their attention. “Alright! Who’s next for cleaning?" When Chica hid behind Roxy some, she sighed. “Please—not everyone at once.”

“I will go next,” Freddy volunteered, pushing himself off the wall to stand a little closer to the chair.

Chica's cleaning always took the longest due to her tendency to eat human food that clogged up her endoskeleton. With the literal garbage in her system she'd been chowing down on last night, she was probably going to be in that chair all day. The faster Freddy could get out of here and hide in his room, the better. He was already starting to feel anxious being away and hoped the others were doing alright—and weren't too bored, especially in Gregory's case.

“You heard the bear!” Chica went to nudge Roxy off the chair, only following suit when Roxy grasped her hand and pulled the bird along with her. Rolling her eyes, the wolf led Chica out of the safety cylinder to give Freddy and the guard room to work.

“Thanks for volunteering, Freddy. I'll try to be as quick as possible. I've just got to strap down your arms; you know protocol,” Soapie told him, patting the seat as a signal for Freddy to relax before she walked to the command terminal inside the workspace. Entering a few prompts, she allowed the cleaning program to load. Programming and major repairs were saved for the trained technicians, but with Soapie’s level of experience she was well-equipped to run a basic cleaning protocol and replace a few limbs.

“Hey, you don't mind if I ask a few questions, do you?” she asked, her whispery voice coming off amiably enough. Despite Freddy telling her that his memory eluded him, she still had a few burning inquiries she at least had to try and get an answer to.

“Not at all,” Freddy replied easily, relaxing against the chair. He was used to these cleanings and wasn't bothered with being strapped down, save for the fact that he could no longer hide his new claws away. He noticed Chica's eyes widen as she finally caught sight of them, but Freddy couldn't hear what the bird whispered to Roxy outside the cylinder.

He tried not to grimace. What must they think of him, seeing their missing friend's claws attached and functional on another's body? And Roxy didn't even know Monty was missing yet...

Despite their constant competition, underneath it all Roxy and Monty were fierce friends who would protect each other until the end of time. Hopefully she wouldn't lose her cool and try to confront Freddy as soon as he stepped out of the protective cylinder.

Trying to ignore these thoughts, he glanced at Soapie with an easy smile.

“I will answer any questions as I am able to, although I believe my memory banks have been damaged,” Freddy reminded the guard gently. If she asked anything he didn't want to answer, he'd simply claim that he couldn't.

Soapie ordered a sanitation prompt through the terminal. Robotic arms came down to power wash away specs of dirt in fierce, pointed streams. The sanitizer evaporated quickly so as not to settle inside the robot’s casing and cause rust damage. When Freddy reminded her that his memory was faint, she nodded, watching as Roxy walked Chica away from the sight of Freddy's mismatched hands.

“So... You don't remember how Monty's hands got on your arms?” she asked tentatively, her voice and tone delicate as not to make it seem like she was accusing him. She was just anxious to get to the bottom of it all.

After the washing prompt ended, it was onto removal and replacement of Monty's claws. They needed to match Freddy’s hands back with his model before Vanessa saw and had a fit. The last thing anyone needed was to stress out the harried night guard further than she already was.

Freddy resisted the urge to groan aloud as Monty’s claws were unceremoniously detached. It was a good idea to equip him with “weapons” that could break through extra gates in theory, but their plans had gotten so detailed by the Fazer Blast fiasco last night, they hadn’t even gotten to use them.

Good to note that if day staff caught Freddy with any upgrades, they’d be swiftly removed. He wasn’t opposed to switching out more parts if absolutely necessary to further ensure Gregory’s safety, but they’d need to be cautious of how visible any new additions to his body were. In response to the question, Freddy shook his head, feigning the best look of innocent confusion he could muster.

“No, I… I do not know how I came in possession of them. I do not really remember interacting with Montgomery at all last night.” He frowned, as if thinking hard. “I saw him in Rockstar Row at the beginning of the night shift, but after that it is all a blank.”

As familiar blue-clawed replacement paws were attached to his arms, Freddy looked to the guard with an apologetic smile. “I am sorry I could not be of more help.”

It was notoriously difficult to tell when a robot was lying. So much so in fact that Soapie decided Freddy had been telling the truth from the start. After all, he was the most responsible one—she couldn’t remember a time the well-behaved bear ever got in trouble like his companions. Now that the bug wasn't actively happening, she was sure Freddy wasn't going to lie in some vain attempt at keeping the status quo.

Soapie shrugged, wiring and calibrating his hand with the skill and delicacy of someone with years of experience under their belt.

“Don't sweat it, Fred,” she replied easily, trusting the bear completely. “I know you'd tell us if something was wrong.”

Soon enough Freddy's restraints lifted, and she gave him a pat on the shoulder. “Just don't do anything too stressful today, okay? We're going to have the programmers look into the latest software update. Hopefully we'll get this under control soon.”

“Thank you,” Freddy said with a smile, flexing his oh so familiar hands as he was ushered out of the cylinder. “I plan to stay in my room all day, so—”

“Oh my god, I am so done with all these stupid malfunctions!” Vanessa’s exasperated yell made everyone turn as she stomped into the room.

To put it bluntly: she looked like a damn mess. Her clothes were wrinkled and disheveled, and her hair wasn’t much better, frizzy pieces sticking out of her usually tight ponytail with reckless abandon. Her face was pale from lack of water and proper nutrition, contrasting sharply with the dark bags under her eyes. The most noticeable thing, however, was the makeshift sling of gauze holding her left arm securely against her chest. Her shirt sleeve was pushed up to reveal bandages wrapped from hand to elbow, and her wince of pain signaled that it hurt.

“We found Sun—he was huddled in a corner of the Daycare under one of the floodlights,” Vanessa explained to the dayshift guard. She heaved a sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose with her non-injured hand. “He’s being weird, too—refused to let us check him out unless we moved him to a place where there was no chance of the lights going off… so some of the techs are looking him over in the main lobby where there’s natural light.”

The night guard let out an incredulous snort. “That psycho literally crawled up a wall when we brought up checking over Moon, too! We’ve gotta figure out a way to get to him sometime but that’s a problem for the techs to figure out, not me.”

Another sigh escaped her lips, the weariness starting to catch up to her. If she wanted to be awake for her shift tonight, she’d need to take a long nap and get some food soon. Vanessa looked towards the animatronic trio, narrowing her eyes at the state of them all. “Anyway, that’s my update—what going on with those three?”

Soapie had half a mind to tell her boss to maybe relax a little in front of the clearly traumatized robots—what stopped her was the sling Vanessa did not have on yesterday. Had she known Ness was hurt on the job, she probably wouldn't have asked the woman to stay and help figure out the issues with day shift.

“Found Freddy with Monty's claws on him,” she whispered her way. It felt strange reporting on the AIs when they were right there, judging what she said in an eerily similar way to a human. It was her job though, so she cleared her throat and went on diligently. “He doesn't remember how they got on his arms. Chica is full of garbage. Plastic knives, ripped up pizza boxes, solo cups and something that looks like cheese?”

Soapie cringed as she thought about the gross smell it was going to make when scooped out of her. She already reeked—actually, all of them except for Freddy had a pretty foul stink attached to them. It was a particular odor that gave her a headache when she thought too hard on its origins.

"Ness—I didn't realize you hurt your arm...,” Soapie remarked gently. She wasn't one to pry, though it only allowed worry to go through her mind as she imagined the terrible potential of what occurred last night if a human got injured in the chaos—or God forbid something was going on in Vanessa's home life.

“Huh? Oh, yeah…” Vanessa glanced down at her arm with a grimace. “Yeah, I… fell down some stairs last night—landed right on my wrist in the worst way. I’m gonna get it checked out soon, I just had to get all this shit done first.”

Normally Vanessa wouldn’t lie about such things as a major injury, but she’d been doing a good job of keeping her amnesiac blackouts under wraps to everyone but her therapists. She couldn’t risk damaging her career even more if she revealed to those she was supposed to be supervising that she couldn’t remember most of her night shift activities… She’d already been transferred locations in the Fazbear company a few times and didn’t want to go through another adjustment period—or worse, be straight up fired.

Freddy tried to ignore the guards as they talked, though he was secretly listening with rapt interest. That was certainly not what happened to Vanessa’s wrist last night, but the bear wasn’t about to correct her. Whatever motives she had for lying to her coworkers, Freddy didn’t feel the need to concern himself with. Instead, he stayed back until he saw an opportunity when he could interject and ask to return to his room. While he waited, he felt Roxy and Chica’s accusing and confused gazes fixed on him.

“I do not know how that happened,” the bear said, holding up his hands to indicate he knew exactly what those looks were for. “I woke up from sleep mode this morning, and my claws were not my own. I am… sorry you both had to see me like that.”

Roxy was like stone, frozen in disbelief while holding onto her friend’s shoulders. Chica was hunched slightly, averting her sad gaze as if she’d been caught whispering to Roxy when Freddy glanced over.

Roxy told Chica that she was sure it had to be due to the programming bug. Freddy just had the worst of it—after all, he’d fallen over on stage. That sort of incident could cause all kinds of internal injuries, and even mess with their self-reporting software. Freddy must’ve been in a worse state than they were last night, to not remember swapping body parts.

(And how, exactly, had he gotten those new claws attached? That was a whole other can of worms.)

Chica knew she couldn't entirely blame him. It would be hypocritical. Though the thought that Freddy of all people was capable of something like that had deeply affected her.

“Monty will be fine—” Roxy reminded everyone. “—like... When he's all found. I trust you, Freddy.” Trying to apply good peer pressure, she gave Chica an encouraging squeeze to say something.

When Chica's hand covered the paw resting on her shoulder, she nodded in agreement. “Right. Uh—it was just really... Shocking. Like Soapie said—”

“Sophie,” the day guard interrupted with a roll of her eyes. “Honestly, they misspell my name one time in the staff logs and no one can get it right…”

“—Yeah, her. Anyway, the programmers will fix up our code before the day’s out.”

“Yes, I am sure they will,” Freddy agreed with a confident smile, despite his complete lack of confidence in this statement.

The virus infecting his friends had already burrowed its way deep into their coding—not to mention the whole supernatural aspect to this entire situation. He doubted a few hours of running software debug programs would be enough to truly fix what was wrong. Not until William Afton was destroyed and could no longer bend others to his will through nothing more than a simple command.

“Speaking of that,” Vanessa chimed in, looking over at the robots. “Freddy and Roxy, you stay here until the programmers get here. Chica, they’ll work on you once you’re all cleaned up.” The woman grimaced at the state of the bird, not hiding her disgust with how much of a mess Chica had made of herself. “Once your software's been updated, I want you all to go back to your rooms and stay there. I’ll be back to check on you guys during night shift. Got it?”

“Of course, Officer Vanessa,” Freddy nodded quickly, the perfect picture of obedience. Underneath this veneer, his metaphorical skin crawled at the thought of Ness returning for another night. If she just stayed away, maybe she wouldn’t fall under William’s influence again, and then they’d have one less threat to deal with.

But then again, maybe the rabbit was simply just in her head now. Freddy had no way to tell.

“You got it, 'Nessa!” Chica replied.

Roxy backed away from her friend and nodded her understanding. Normally she'd take her warnings with a grain of salt, but tonight was different. Who knew how Freddy was going to react. It could be her disassembled at the raceway tonight, maybe this time with her eyes plucked out... She'd rather not think of that—or to paint one of her close friends as someone so willfully violent.

That wasn't him. It was just a glitch.

“You should go home,” Sophie remarked, meekly suggesting for Vanessa to take it easy. “Get your arm checked, too. I... won't tell anyone you got hurt if you don't want me to.”

She decided it was better to comply. It was clear that Vanessa didn't want compensation due to the clear state that the robots were in. It'd probably piss management off to no end to hear that the understaffing around here wasn't working to their benefit. “I'll stay here until they're done with the Daycare attendant.”

From the sounds of Sun's distress, it was going to take a while until he was pacified. Then they could screw around with his brain a bit and get it over with for the rest of the band.

Vanessa heaved a sigh. “Yeah… I’ve gotta get out of here for a bit. Thanks.”

She gave Sophie a pat on the shoulder with her good hand. Then she narrowed her eyes and made an “I’m watching you” gesture to the animatronics before turning on her heel and heading out to temporary freedom.

***

It didn’t take as long as expected for the programmers to arrive. They decided to start with Freddy, since thanks to the mismatched limbs he was considered the one in need of most immediate care out of the four haywire animatronics they could locate. Though Freddy was relieved to get out of there before everyone else, the dark irony of him being the most volatile animatronic wasn’t lost on the bear.

After nearly another hour in the chair wherein the programmers checked and rebooted every software system they could think of, Freddy was cleared to return to his room. Staff had opted to leave Safe Mode on for obvious reasons, which suited the bear just fine—the less chance of him being somehow influenced by William, the better. With one more reassuring smile to Roxy and Chica, Freddy headed back to his room, trying not to seem too eager to do so.

Chapter Text

I’m gonna bleed, I’m gonna stay

I’ll never leave ‘til night becomes day

Whatever happened to the others that came?

~Total Insecurity by Rockit Music~

Today was the day that Gregory learned he had zero impulse control when left with pizza and soda. Charlie had to stop him from sucking down the last can of pop and encourage him to drink at least one bottle of water instead. Half the pizza was gone in two hours, leaving Gregory in quite the state. He laid against the cool floor, on his back and holding his stomach. Charlie, feeling bad for the kid, would periodically rake her fingers soothingly through his hair.

“I told you. I said this exact thing was going to happen if you did it,” she remarked grimly.

“Thank you, captain foresight.” Gregory groaned. He was starting to think he was lactose intolerant after the umpteenth time this same scenario has happened to him. Yet Charlie would disagree, saying it's the volume and speed at which he decided to eat.

“Michael—we're going to have to put the kid out of his misery,” Charlie teased, holding out one of her hands as Gregory laughed and rolled from her lap to get away. “Hand me a pillow, I'll make it quick—”

“She’s right, Gregory—we can’t stand to see you suffer like this,” Michael said with a dramatic sigh as he picked up a bowtie-shaped throw pillow. Then without warning he threw this at Charlie, not hard enough to cause damage but with enough force to knock the Puppet backwards with a surprised yelp.

What ensued next was the quietest “pillow” fight known to man, wherein the animatronics tossed any soft, stuffed object they could find at each other in an attempt to push someone off-balance. Gregory joined in once he’d recovered enough, and despite their excitement the group did their best to keep the volume down to crazed whispers. Only the occasional, muffled shriek got through when a plushie collided unexpectedly with someone’s face.

Minutes after a truce was called, the door to Freddy’s room began to slide open. Michael instantly jumped to his feet, ready to run to the back as he saw Charlie snatch Gregory up out of the corner of his eye. To his relief, it was the bear himself that slipped inside the room, now fresh and squeaky clean with his normal paws intact.

“Oh no… what happened?” Michael groaned softly as it seemed like part of their efforts last night were for nothing.

“I could ask you all the same question,” Freddy replied, looking around in disbelief. The half-empty pizza box was left open on the table, and the remnants of soda cans and snack wrappers were littered around it. Additionally, every soft object was scattered throughout the room—he even saw his prized throw pillow hooked on top of the star light that protruded from the ceiling.

Gregory had long gone limp in Charlie's hold, his arms in the way of completely sliding from her grip as she took the reins in explaining the state of things.

“Impromptu pillow fight. Gregory ate too much and he needed to work some of it off. Right, buddy?” the Puppet asked, bouncing him in her arms.

“—Don't shake me,” he groaned in response. “I'm gonna freaking pop.”

The bloat was still getting to the kid and Charlie let him down to move of his own accord, where he started to clean up the scattered garbage. She hoped that they hadn't gone routing around too much for answers in Freddy's coding. Although she knew better than to think the bear would rat them out at this point, there was still the paranoia that the human staff possibly knew more than was necessary.

“Well, I am sorry I missed the activity,” Freddy said with a small laugh, unable to be frustrated at the situation. They’d clearly been having fun and bonding, which is exactly what the bear hoped would happen when they got rare a moment alone together.

As Gregory busied himself with cleaning up, Freddy explained his trip to Parts & Service. He told them about the sad state of the other animatronics and the fact that Monty’s torso couldn’t be found. He relayed how he’d been cleaned and “reset,” though still kept in Safe Mode—and how he’d seen Vanessa sporting a sling and tired eyes, but otherwise back to herself again. Freddy finished up his speech by regaling the others of how Monty’s claws were replaced with his usual limbs and the suspicion now upon him.

“I believe everyone thinks that I decommissioned Monty,” the bear concluded, then blinked and tilted his head slightly. “…Which I suppose I did, but they think it was done maliciously so I could steal his claws. We must be wary of any other parts we upgrade, because if staff sees them I will be sent right back to Parts & Service.”

Michael groaned again, raking his a paw through his mane. “Great… just great. So much for that plan…”

Gregory seemed particularly frustrated at the situation. Not only did they have heat from administration on them now, but the upgrades he’d stolen for Freddy were taken, undoing his hard work. This anger was apparent in the way he cleaned, now just a little more aggressively than before.

“At least they won't fix Monty right away if they can't find him. That's one less crazy robot to deal with,” he grumbled, tossing a pillow up for Charlie to catch.

“Hey—” She snagged the pillow, only to gently lob it to the back of Michael's head. “—let's look at the bright side! We learned a lot from our first night here. Tonight, we'll be better equipped for dealing with everyone.” Charlie spoke with a more optimistic attitude attached, watching with satisfaction as the cushion met the back of her friend’s metallic skull.

Michael let out an offended noise as the pillow made contact, turning to glare at Charlie. There was no venom in the expression though; he knew she was just trying to cheer him up.

“No fair striking when someone’s guard is down!” the fox exclaimed, then pointed to the cushion high out of reach. “Help me get that, will you? I’ll lift you up.”

“Tonight will be much better than the last,” Freddy reassured, trying to manifest this into truth by saying it aloud. They could not have a repeat of all the terrifying things that went down the previous evening, for all their sakes.

As Gregory threw the final bit of trash away and crossed Freddy's path, the bear ran a hand through the boy’s hair. That was one good thing about Monty’s claws being replaced, at least—there was no chance of Freddy accidentally scratching anyone or anything with sharp appendages he wasn’t familiar with.

“We should make a plan for tonight,” Michael suggested, letting Charlie’s comparatively light body rest on his shoulders. “Or at least figure out what we need to do besides just ‘get rid of my psychotic father...’”

“I have an idea, but… I'm not sure you guys are gonna like it,” Charlie murmured cryptically. Just a little farther up, she had to really work to grasp the pillow from the edge of the light. When she couldn't get a hold, Charlie would bat it down and let it bonk against Freddy's head. “Oops—my bad, Freddy.” 

“What's your plan, Charlie?” Gregory asked with morbid curiosity, laughing as the pillow squeaked when it impacted with Freddy's little top hat.

There was a dark light in Puppet’s pinprick eyes. “Lure everyone but old man Afton outside at 6 and burn the place to the ground."

This place could rot for all she cared... Though, retrospectively, this didn’t solve the issue with Freddy's charging pod situation. He'd still be forced to shut down after sometime, as would all the others.

There was a beat of silence after this declaration. Michael was the one to break it as he slowly set Charlie back on solid ground.

“A few years ago, I’d tell you that was a fantastic plan,” he said, giving her an amiable pat on the back. “Unfortunately… I’ve been semi or wholly responsible for at least two fires that burned down an entire Fazbear building with my father inside, and look how that’s turned out. Somehow, the bastard ‘always comes back.’”

Michael said this last bit in an obnoxious, mocking tone to imitate the line he’d heard his father repeat at nauseam. Frankly, the whole situation was starting to get as old as his crusty dad.

“Additionally, as I stated last night I will not be able to stay active outside of the Pizzaplex for long.” Freddy had to point out the obvious, choosing to ignore Michael’s curse and arguably more concerning admission of committing arson on multiple occasions. “This goes for all other animatronics as well—even if we wrest them from William’s control, they will not survive long without the Pizzaplex’s charging capabilities.”

Once Charlie was set back down, she immediately felt herself tense as she caught Gregory's expression. Apparently, they’d completely forgotten to clue him in on the charging pod situation. With wide eyes, he looked between Freddy and Michael, fear and apprehension in his gaze.

“Freddy—” Charlie nodding her head sharply in Gregory's direction while the kid's gaze was momentarily diverted. She gave him a nudge with her elbow, watching as Gregory's face relaxed into one of defeated sadness.

There went Gregory's plans of stealing the Fazbear Entertainment's animatronics to be his new family... With his arms crossed, he glanced up to the bear, clearly trying not to wear his sudden disappointment on his sleeves yet unable to shake the pout on his face. “So all we can do is try to find this guy and kill him for good, right? More kids will just go missing if we don't...”

It seemed to be their only chance. The real question was how?

“Oh dear… I am sorry, superstar,” Freddy apologized, crouching down to pull Gregory into a hug. Despite the boy trying to be strong and act like the situation didn’t bother him, he folded into Freddy’s embrace rather quickly. “I did not mean to distress you. We are trying to think of a solution for how we can stay together, do not worry—I promised I would look after you no matter what, and I do not break my promises.”

That look of utter defeat on Gregory’s face had been short-lived but poignant. Michael knew it well—the dawning realization that your father might not be able to take care of you like he promised he could. He and Gregory had completely different circumstances to prompt this, but the sinking, hole in the chest feeling was the same.

“Charlie came up with a crazy idea that we might just be able to pull off with my amazing mechanical skills…” Michael grinned, making a show of pushing up a billowy sleeve to show off his nonexistent muscles. “And we’d also need your coding abilities—”

“That is not our top priority,” Freddy reminded gently before Michael could start spouting off about new robotic bodies. He didn’t want to get the boy’s hopes up for a scenario they’d barely worked out basic logistics for. “Gregory is right—we must focus on stopping William Afton first and foremost before he can hurt anymore innocents.”

While this was true, the prospect of solving the issue still intrigued Gregory. Even if it was false hope, he’d cling to it. Charlie watched his frown lift into a more neutral and relaxed expression, calmed as Freddy held onto him.

“I hope I could code well enough to help,” Gregory remarked, blunt but eager. “I promise I'll do whatever you guys need after we kick your Dad's ass—butt. Sorry, I-I meant butt.”

Gregory corrected himself, much to Charlie's hidden amusement. The kid was hanging around Michael too much, and it showed. Mike’s rebellious behavior was infectious. It probably even took root within Freddy in ways they didn't understand now. She supposed that’s what it meant to be such close friends with people.

“Well, your heart's in the right place, kiddo,” Charlie began, deciding to take a seat back on the couch, legs crossed as she gathered her thoughts. “I think the real issue is—will this be the last time we get rid of him? It's annoying to agree with anything he’s said, but he does always come back...”

“Oh, it's going to be.” Michael's reply was quick and left no room for argument. There was a hardness in his eyes that only came from decades of exhaustion from his father's constant resurgence. He gave a short, wry laugh, his gaze shifting to Charlie's. “Isn't the definition of insanity repeating the same thing over and over again and hoping to get different results? Well, William's clearly insane for multiple reasons, but I'm not going to fall into the same category as him by trying to get rid of him only for him to return for the hundredth time. This is going to be the end.”

Michael's impassioned speech left the room quiet for a moment. Freddy released Gregory and stood with a nod.

“I agree wholeheartedly. Regardless of whether we are able to leave the Pizzaplex, I cannot in good conscience do away with William without assuring that he is truly gone.”

Michael snorted at this, and to Freddy's questioning look he replied: “Sorry, sorry—I appreciate the enthusiasm. It's just... sometimes easy to forget you're a robot, Freddy—especially when you talk about having a conscience. It's weird, but not in a bad way.”

Michael would never get over the morality programmed into these machines. He really hoped he'd get to see the others in a non-infected state, although he had to admit that after what they'd already been through he wouldn't be too cut up about it if he never got to check out their inner workings.

“Yeah,” Charlie agreed, looking from Michael back towards the face of Fazbear Entertainment. “You're so aware.”

She was still slightly shaken from the strongly put musings Michael spouted forth, and silently went to work on figuring out a way to remove William from the picture. Leaning on a thin hand, Charlie watched as Gregory meandered towards the arcade machine... And then it hit her like a pile of bricks.

Why didn't she think of this before?

“Cassidy!” she shouted, abrupt and loud.

How could she forget her? The one who'd originally trapped William away in the first place would certainly have another idea of how to put him to rest for good.

“Cassidy?” Freddy questioned with a tilt of his head. “That name does not hold significance in my memory banks.”

“Of course it wouldn't—she was one of the original kids to go missing, way back when William started this whole thing. You're not going to have that kind of information in your database,” Mike explained, mirroring Freddy's head tilt as he looked at Charlie curiously. “Do you think she's still here, too?”

“If she's not here, I wonder if there's a way to find her,” Charlie mused. Though she never saw the girl upon waking up in the Pizzaplex, that didn’t mean she wasn’t hiding around in some dark corner. After all, she and Michael hadn’t remembered exactly how they got up top; after so much time wallowing in limbo, memories started to get a bit fuzzy. “I'm sure if she finds out the guy that stuffed her into an empty suit was wandering around, she'd gladly help us...”

“There's more ghosts?” Gregory asked, surprised at the amount of pissed-off dead kids that Michael's dad seemed to accumulate grudges with. He held back from cursing again, reeling from the fact that he might be meeting a fourth ghost not twenty-four hours after learning that they were just as real as everyone else.

“I am just as surprised as you are, superstar,” Freddy murmured, going to stand by the arcade cabinet and watch as Gregory refocused on his attempt at beating the high score. The bear's eyes might be on the lit up screen, but his ears were still tuned into Charlie and Michael's conversation.

How many children had William sacrificed for his twisted ideals? Freddy heard rumors of children going missing in the Pizzaplex, of course. One or two might be pushed under the rug, but nine was too much to keep out of even the animatronics' knowledge. All they were told was to keep an eye out for these specific kids registered in the guest book, but the how and why of their disappearances remained under wraps.

Freddy clenched his fists as he thought about this. Even now, the company still tried their best to appear like nothing was wrong.

“Don't you have some... I don't know, ghostly connection powers or something? Could you reach out and see where she is?” Michael asked Charlie, plopping down on the floor to face her. He shrugged with a soft laugh. “Sorry, I'm still comparatively new to this vengeful spirit thing.”

“I... have no idea, actually,” Charlie remarked. “I’ve never tried a remote connection before, but it's worth a shot! I wonder if this’ll work without a vessel to touch, though…”

Gregory had tuned in again, momentarily distracted to say: “If you guys are summoning ghosts, I'm staying turned around! I almost had a heart attack when I saw Michael.” Gregory huffed lightly when he overstepped on the side-scrolling platformer, losing a life and growing one step closer to failure.

“Alright, Gregory—if you really think little girls with overalls and pigtails are scary, you should definitely stay turned around,” Charlie teased, watching in amusement as his face darkened in a blush.

“Horrifying,” was all he could muster as he begun Level 3 all over again.

“Hey, I wasn't that ugly!” Michael exclaimed, scoffing in mock offense.

His looks were certainly a point of contention within his own self-confidence, especially at the time they were “frozen” in his ghostly form. He didn't have to use a mirror to know that his face matched far too closely with his father's for comfort. It was the whole reason so many animatronics had gone after him in the first place after all, and a huge factor in why he'd gotten scooped...

But Gregory didn't need to know that. If he learned that Mike had the true face of that psychotic rabbit with the hypodermic needle forever etched into Gregory's nightmares, Michael feared the boy would have a heart attack.

Charlie busted out laughing. Of course she didn't think he was ugly—it’d just been unfortunate that he inherited his murderous father’s face to a tee. Though Charlie liked to think that William simply copied his son, rather than it unintentionally being the other way around.

Curling around the fox once more, Charlie placed a gentle hand to Mike’s cheek, only to abruptly turn it away.

“Hush—your face is scary, Mike,” Charlie remarked in a deadpan, seeing Gregory's shoulders bounce with a silent laugh in the corner of her vision.

“No—” Gregory snorted, jumping past an obstacle in his game. “—just his head passing through solid freaking metal was creepy!”

Michael rolled his eyes, grinning as he gently shoved  Puppet's face away just as she'd done to him. He then shook his head with a dramatic sigh. “Consider yourselves lucky you don't have to get a load of Charlie here... now that's terrifying.”

This pulled a chuckle from everyone, even Charlie herself. Once the moment died down, Freddy quietly cleared his throat.

“As much as I would like to make progress immediately, we should wait for night shift,” he said. “Though the animatronics are docile for now, there are too many staff members walking around—I do not want to risk anyone seeing Gregory, or potentially another ghost.”

More time to rest and recharge before the inevitable harrowing night again?

Yeah—no one had an issue with that plan whatsoever.

***

The group stayed in Freddy's room for the remainder of dayshift, talking quietly about anything and everything while avoiding harsh topics when they could. They were enjoying the calm before the storm, needing to get in as much pleasant time with each other before the clock hit 12 am and their world devolved into frantic chaos yet again.

Too soon, that time arrived. An alert blinking across Freddy's vision signaled the official start of night shift. Cautiously, the bear peeked out of the curtains to find Rockstar Row empty yet again. He assumed the other animatronics were currently in their rooms, though surely they wouldn't stay there for long. Hearing no updates on Monty, Freddy could only presume the gator was still missing.

With a slight frown, Freddy turned back to the rest of the group. “Alright, the coast is clear. Charlie, you may go ahead and try whatever you would like.”

This was going to be interesting.

Gregory had long since made himself comfortable on the couch, arms crossed as he sunk far into the soft cushions and watched as Freddy made sure that no one decided to crash their séance. It would quite literally be the last thing they needed that night. Hopefully, they'd have the time to summon whoever Cassidy was. Though as Gregory turned his attention Charlie, he had a feeling she was already on the right track.

Becoming comfortable and sitting cross-legged on the ground, the Puppet appeared frozen. Quiet as she looked ahead, Charlie's sudden stillness caused the warmth to be sucked from the room. Tiny, silver pinprick eyes formed in the center of the mask’s empty sockets.

Charlie hadn't even spent that long concentrating on bringing Cassidy back, when suddenly two hands emerged to grasp Puppet’s shoulders from behind.

As a head of light, strawberry-blonde hair peaked out of the darkness, Gregory jumped slightly at the sight. The girl couldn't have been much older than him—when she died, that is. With an annoyed look on her face, she shook Charlie vehemently.

“It's about time!” Cassidy snipped, tongue catching against a pair of colorful braces as she spoke. The ghost glanced around the room with subdued interest, unimpressed and merely observing her surroundings. “This place is weird. Charlie, what took you so long?”

Charlie's eyes had returned to normal, surprised at how fast it was to summon the feisty spirit. “Uh—sorry, Cas! I didn’t realize you were waiting on me.”

“Oh my goodness...,” Freddy murmured from next to Gregory, instinctively placing a comforting hand on the boy's head.

The little ghost wasn't scary—far from it, in fact. The sight of her made Freddy's mechanical heart squeeze in a wave of sadness he hadn't thought possible. All of these children were so young...

“Holy shit,” Michael breathed, effectively pulling Freddy out of his reverie to glare at the fox.

Michael paid him absolutely no mind, completely focused on Cassidy's ghost. He was sitting on the couch too, although he was leaning so far forward it was a wonder the whole thing didn't tip over due to his weight. At the sight of Gregory's corner lifting slightly off the ground, Freddy clamped a hand down onto the back of the couch, using his counteracting strength to keep it in place.

“Whoops—sorry.” Michael flashed an apologetic smile, bright eyes still locked onto the tiny ghost near Puppet. He recognized her from the missing posters plastered all around town upon her disappearance, as well as the few times he'd seen her in the Pizzaplex. Ironically, most of their interactions happened after her death, the memories of which caused Michael to let out a stilted:

“Uh, heh... Hey, Cassidy. Long time no see? Ah, it's... Michael.” He pointed awkwardly to the fox face. “In here, I mean.”

Cassidy gave Mike a screwed-up frown, glancing him up and down before her eyes widened in realization. Pointing at the Glamrock fox, she stepped out from behind Charlie.

“It's the limey guy's son!” Cassidy exclaimed. The strangely aggressive reaction, on top of Michael's strong response to her made Gregory try unsuccessfully to hold in a few giggles.

“I didn't recognize you there—what with you wearing Foxy's skin and all,” Cassidy continued, hands placed firmly on her hips. She seemed not to hold any ill-will towards Mike. Scanning the room further, her eyes soon locked on Gregory, who seemed to be watching her with intrigue.

Her mouth dropped, and for a moment all the little ghost could do was stare. How this very alive, flesh-and-blood kid could bear such a striking resemblance to Cassidy’s old suitmate, she had absolutely no idea. The shock didn’t last long though, and soon her lip curled in a defensive scowl.

“What are you lookin' at?” Cassidy snarled with all the ire she could muster.

“N-Nothing! I mean no one! I mean—” Gregory was choking socially. Unable to make eye contact with the apparition, he settled for staring at her shoes instead of her face. Talking to other kids was hard regardless if they were dead or not, especially speaking to such a confident one. At least his dad was here...

“—I'm Gregory,” he managed to force out, causing Cassidy to roll her eyes.

“Uh huh,” she replied facetiously, unbothered and unaware—or uncaring—of Gregory's own inner meltdown.

“'Limey guy's son...'” Michael grumbled upon Cassidy's recognition, eyes narrowed in mild annoyance as he tracked her movements around the room. Her personality was a force to be reckoned with. There was a reason she'd been the angriest one besides Charlie; the one who led the charge against any night guard that dared try and intrude on their tormented afterlives.

Speaking of that—Mike realized too late that they hadn't thought to prepare Freddy nor Cassidy for their meeting. They should’ve split them up, brought Cassidy up to speed on the situation, and then introduced the bear. Freddy might be completely innocent regarding her past, but surely the girl wouldn't react well to any sort of Fazbear model, no matter how sleek.

It’d taken Michael a long time to figure out whose ghost was in which animatronic. Admittedly, he still struggled with some of William's later victims, if only because he hadn't had nearly as much interaction with them as he did with the original five. Cassidy inhabited Golden Freddy—Michael remembered that clear as day. She was the first victim he'd connected the dots with, although unintentionally. He realized that, to his complete horror, his brother's soul was also inside the animatronic that took his life... But there was another, stronger personality that far overshadowed Evan's soft-spoken demeanor.

Michael couldn't even count the number of times he'd cautiously tried to interact with Evan, only to be snapped at—literally and figuratively—by Cassidy instead.

Now, Mike could only watch as the strangely sentient Glamrock Freddy crouched down to be at eye level with the little ghost, holding out a paw for her to shake. His smile was open and sweet, eyes sparkling with genuine interest and compassion as he greeted her:

“Hello, Cassidy. I am sure you already know this, but I am Freddy. It is nice to meet you.”

The bear. The damned bear.

Cassidy had tried hard not to associate the image of Freddy Fazbear with hell or imprisonment. While she hadn't been in this bright, ursine-themed room for long, she assumed that because Charlie was calm around this uninhabited Freddy robot he’d been friendly enough. That didn’t stop Cassidy from giving the bear a scathing once-over, visually patting him down.

“Hi Freddy. I would shake your hand, but I'll be honest—the last time I touched one of you I got trapped in it for, like, 35 years,” she said with a rather polite nod of her head as she walked the floor, circling the Glamrock like a tiny shark.

“I think you guys found something that belongs to me,” Cassidy remarked in a somewhat calculated way. She glanced across the room, eyes flicking to Gregory as he decided to try to speak up again.

“Uh, what do you mean, exactly?” he asked, confused. He hadn't remembered finding anything that looked pre-owned or thrifted. Though Cassidy gave Gregory a sideways smirk, he didn't feel like she was exactly being friendly. Or maybe that was because the girl just intimidated him too much.

“Not a what—” She corrected herself as she trounced over and took a seat next to Gregory, propping her feet up on the star-shaped table. “—a who. I'd like William Afton's soul back. The asshole slipped out of hell while I was distracted, and me and the others aren't very happy, as you can imagine!”

“Join the club,” Michael commented, riding a wave of relief that Cassidy hadn't tried to dismantle Freddy on the spot. He peered around Gregory to look at the ghost. “That's exactly why we called you here—we need your help. William is at large in this place and we're trying to stop him. We figured, if you were around, you'd be more than willing to assist.”

Freddy decided to observe for the time being, slowly standing up and trying not to let his growing horror show outwardly. He knew the children had been bonded to animatronics, but the information hadn't quite sunk in until now. Not until the way Cassidy looked at him with fire in her eyes, as if she wanted nothing more than to rip him limb from limb and burn the pieces. Thankfully she'd resisted the urge, but her following words shocked Freddy into silence.

35 YEARS.

The bear couldn't imagine such a fate, being trapped inside a body that wasn't your own for so long. Not for the first time, he was thankful Michael hadn't unintentionally gotten stuck inside his head—for both of their sakes.

Gregory scooted away closer to the end of the couch. Fear wasn't quite the right word to describe the feeling when talking to Cassidy, but it was certainly irrational. She didn't seem to have an interest in hurting them—though she came across as if it was entirely possible for her to do it, in the way she walked and talked. How she directed her gaze and carried herself spoke of a confidence some people chased their whole lives.

“Can't have that turd floating around...,” she replied crassly to Michael, lazily turning her head to face him. Her voice dripped with attitude. “I've already got a plan. I'll need you guys to help, and I'll need you try and not mess it up.”

“We're all ears,” Michael replied, listening intently. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Freddy place a hand on Gregory's back, reminding the boy of his presence and silently reassuring that things would be okay. Charlie by now had come to sit between Cas and Gregory, seeing that the boy obviously needed a buffer.

Mike was curious to know this plan the vengeful ghost had already cooked up, and he also had a very important question for her once they'd settled on the details.

She'd mentioned “the others,” and Michael needed to know who these souls belonged to. His hope that all the children were freed after the last fire had been dashed upon Cassidy's appearance in the room, and though he was grateful for her help, he still felt a gnawing sense of guilt about the whole thing. The deaths of William's victims weren't Michael's fault in the slightest, he knew that, but... it still felt like this whole thing was started by his actions way back in '83.

“I don't know how, but he left the game I made for him.” Cassidy sighed, looking up towards the ceiling as she gave context for her plan. “I thought it was so clever. Create a mind-bendy version of one of those stupid security offices, take William's wandering soul and shove it in there… Kill him over, and over, and over again.”

Cas recounted the ways they'd done it. Strangulation. Exsanguination. Bludgeoning. She was positive that she and Evan—mostly her—had personally springlocked William thousands of times before his escape. The methods didn't matter; what mattered was when someone found that rotted old golden Bonnie suit in the bowels of the burned-out fake diner. When they stole pieces from it, taking William’s soul away from Cassidy’s homebrewed prison.

At first, the spirits had been overjoyed to see him go—they thought it meant they could finally rest. Turns out, like everything else William was involved in, the whole thing was a big fat lie.

“I'll need him distracted. Weakened. Lure him into the basement and I'll have a surprise waiting just for him.”

How she already had something set up for William was unbelievable. It made Gregory skeptical, and he'd finally grown the confidence to speak his mind. “That's cool and all, but why should we trust you again?” 

Cassidy's hard glare relaxed some as she reached over and calmly socked Gregory in the arm. It caused him to yelp and rub the assaulted area, honestly shocked she could even touch him.  

“Look, Evan clone, you might not be totally aware of the shit that guy put me through. I would never help him. If you wanna live to still feel anything tomorrow, you better listen!” the ghost warned.

Gregory felt the need to suck up the pain dolled out to him. It was a reminder that he was still alive—and to Cassidy, that was a gift.

“Weakened and brought to the basement—we can do that,” Michael confirmed, choosing to ignore Cassidy’s physical assault on Gregory and get her to focus on someone else instead. Gregory was clearly uncomfortable being the center of Cas's attention, though Michael knew he’d be fine since his robotic dad was already fretting over the new blossoming bruise on his arm.

If anyone were to ask Freddy in that exact moment what was on his mind, he’d simply respond: “Too much.” Listening to this child describe so many ways to torture a soul and getting pleasure out of every one of them was not something Freddy expected to ever hear. He wouldn’t deny that William deserved it—even if he didn’t have the full picture of everything that man had done, he knew enough to agree the ghosts’ revenge was fully justified.

“Sorry for the billionth time that you got roped into this, Freddy,” Michael apologized, knowing the bear’s circuits must be on overload. Chancing his luck, he decided to pose another question to Cassidy. “So do we get to know what this ‘surprise’ is, or…?”

He wouldn’t be shocked if she wanted to keep this under wraps from them too, but he had to at least try.

Hopefully, by getting rid William Vanessa would eventually go back to normal. The news of Will having been loose in the world for that long made Charlie’s blood boil. She curled her hands in anger, distracted only when Cassidy bounced from her seat and threw her hands up.

“It wouldn’t be a surprise then, dummy! Buuut, I’ll give you a hint though—your families are gonna help me out,” she replied in a sing-song tone. “And I'll tell you one person that’s down there for sure. Henry finally decided to come out of his little saferoom when he realized Charlie was gone—”

Cassidy was interrupted, lifted quickly off the ground as Charlie picked her up and shook her before the ghost girl could react.

“My dad’s been here the whole time?!”

Without thinking, Charlie practically dropped Cassidy and made a mad dash for the door leading to the back storage rooms. The girl was desperate to find her own father now that she knew he’d lingered behind with the rest. The fact he was waiting for them made her soul ache just thinking about it.

“Charlie, wait!” Moving fast, Michael managed to grasp one spindly hand just as Charlie reached for the door. He tightened his grip as she fought against him, holding fast. “Wait. I want to see him too, but we can’t just run out there. There’s too many things that are trying to get us.”

Michael couldn’t believe he was actually being the voice of reason—usually he was the impulsive one, ready to sprint towards danger without regard for his own well-being. He wanted to see his family, too, if they'd decided to linger as well—wanted to scoop his siblings into his arms and apologize for everything that’s happened to them, for all they’ve suffered, all the years trapped and scared and alone… It hurt to imagine them so close yet so out of reach.

But they couldn’t go to them; not yet.

“We can’t leave Freddy and Gregory alone,” Michael pointed out softly, gesturing to them with his hook as he slowly pulled Charlie away from the door. “They need us, too, remember?”

Charlie was trembling, skinny endoskeleton rattling inside her soft, cotton-stuffed casing. It was clear that she wanted to throw responsibility to the wind for once in her afterlife, but her friend’s dutiful reminder—and physical hold—had anchored her.

She allowed Mike to slide her away from the door. The empathetic words he spoke helped the impulse leave her as she grasped onto his hand.

“I got carried away…,” she admitted. The rare lapse in decision-making left her sheepish and uneasy.

Gregory hadn’t ever seen Charlie so crazed before. She usually kept a calm face about everything. Maybe it was the way Cassidy had gotten everyone riled up, it had Charlie acting like… Well, a kid.

Technically she still was, in a way—an old kid. A dead kid.

Gregory felt uncomfortable while lost in that thought train, and even more so when he found Cassidy staring at him. To avoid her gaze, Gregory decided to stand and hide behind Freddy now. He didn’t care if Cassidy thought he was weird or too reliant on the robot. She hadn’t seemed that interested after all, her stare fixated at one point like she was really just lost in thought.

“I wouldn’t let each other out of your sights,” she warned, lazily walking about the room. “He already knows you’re here. Probably making plans to dismantle you all, make you dust for his immortality soup…”

“He wants Gregory,” Michael revealed bluntly, finally releasing Charlie’s hand once assured she’d calmed down enough not to bolt for the door again. There was no point hiding this from Cassidy—hell, maybe knowing his intentions would somehow aid her in capturing William faster once they got him to the basement. Mike glanced at Gregory, looking so small and fragile hiding behind Freddy’s leg.

“He’s convinced that Gregory is Evan reincarnated,” he went on bitterly, acid spewing from every word as his anger towards his father grew. “He tried to… to inject him with some glowing shit—I don’t know what it was, but he was ranting about it ‘strengthening Evan’s body’ or something. I just—”

Suddenly, orange eyes snapped to Cassidy, widening with realization.

“Oh… oh my god… The Remnant. That’s what his research said, something about…” Michael wracked his brain for every tiny detail, trying to piece things together. “He… gathered something called Remnant from the lost souls, and it… kept people from getting hurt. No, not hurt, but… killed.”

He felt sick to his stomach, vaguely wondering if he was about to throw up some random wires and internal parts—it wouldn’t be the first time in his life that happened. In a low voice, he concluded: “He’s trying to make Gregory immortal like him… like he wants to do with all his family.”

Cassidy waited patiently as Michael finally worked out all the morbid details for them. Things like that had stopped fazing Cas a while ago. The lengths William went to trying to unlock the key to his family’s tragic deaths, as if the lives of unfamiliar children were mere tokens one could exchange for a prize… He traded souls until he’d gotten his wish.

“That sparkly junk in the jars...?” Cassidy made sure they were talking about the same thing, scratching her scalp nearest her left pigtail. “Yeah—I’ve seen him use it on himself. It’s why he didn’t die when he locked himself in the rabbit.”

She rolled her eyes, letting them settle back to her suitmate’s lookalike. The news that Gregory was being mistaken for Evan had hatched another idea in her brain.

“Him?” she asked, now taking the time to gingerly approach Gregory. “Eh… The worst that Remnant stuff will do is make sure he doesn’t die. Pretty sure it’s made out of the culmination of our beings, plus our crushed hopes and dreams.”

Even just talking about that creepy junk had Gregory scared. He lashed out, hiding his fear with anger. “Shut up—that’s not really what it is! It’s probably just, like, poisonous or something!”

“Keep telling yourself that, clone-Evan,” Cassidy remarked, knowing the boy’s fear kept him from telling her to shut up a second time. “Don’t know why you wouldn’t want to believe me. I’m one of the only things in here that doesn’t want you to die…”

There was a heavy pause, before Cassidy flashed a wicked smile.

“Maybe you should just let that old creep stick him with the Remnant,” Cassidy suggested, turning to Michael as she jutted a thumb in the direction of their newest friend. “He’d survive longer, at least.”

“Stop this.”

The sound of Freddy’s sudden, commanding voice caused everyone to freeze in their tracks. The bear had been silent for so long listening in to their conversations, it was mildly shocking to hear him finally speak again. However, that was nothing compared to the look on his face—one of hard-set determination, underlain with a hint of… yes, there was definitely some fear deep in those electric-blue eyes.

It wasn’t fear for himself, though—it was fear for his new family and what might lie in store for them should William have his way.

“Gregory is not going to be injected with this so-called ‘Remnant’, he is not the reincarnation of Evan Afton, and he is not going to die!” Freddy ranted, pulling the boy in close to rest against his leg, one arm wrapped protectively around his shoulders. The bear looked around the room with narrowed eyes, as if daring anyone to challenge his conviction. He’d been trying to contain his mounting frustration at the situation, and the direct suggestion of letting his son fall victim to the man who destroyed so many lives was the final straw. “We are going to find William Afton and get rid of him and this virus he created for good—then all the souls like Cassidy can finally rest. Do I make myself clear?”

Despite the delivery, it was an uplifting claim. Freddy’s unquestionable tone caused Michael to nod in agreement.

“Loud and clear, Freddy. We’ve got this.” The fox’s flashed Gregory a grin that hid his anxiety as he thought how hard they’d need to work to make this next claim true. “Nothing’s going to happen to you, Gregory, alright? You’re safe with us.”

Gregory was quick to hold fast to Freddy's arms. The words of strong-willed encouragement felt real enough to him. The determination set in Freddy’s voice brought a smile to his face after Cassidy speaking on his impending doom had begun to get him down again. It was like she had a grudge on him for simply being alive still.

“Yeah; I'm still here,” he said, trying to feel confident in himself and control of the situation at hand. “What's one more night?”

Their plan was simple enough. Whatever trap Cassidy had in waiting in the basement was cryptic though… and Gregory still wasn't entirely certain she could be trusted. But it didn't matter, as they’d run out of options besides relying on a snippy ghost girl.

Cassidy had gone quiet at Freddy's outburst. She was still a child at heart—and the sound of an adult's voice yelling still gave her flashbacks to her own father's laid-back temper, though the image of his face had been blurred with time. She crossed her arms and listened to Freddy rant, feeling a little bad for having poked the bear too much. He clearly deeply cared not only for Gregory, but all the lost children.

“...Okay. Give us a little time to prep, and then you bring the bastard down to the old diner. Michael? You know where it is. I'll see you guys then...” Cassidy spoke calmly, evenly. Then, she drifted downwards, passing through the floorboards and calling out to her comrades: “Smell ya's later...”

Gregory shuddered. How could one sad, little dead girl be so creepy?

Maybe all of them were like that. Gregory looked to Charlie for proof, though she was more lost in thought than the rest of the group.

Michael sat heavily on the couch, resting his elbows on his knees as he hung his head. He’d learned a lot of information in the past half hour, the most pressing fact to him being that Evan and Lizzie were in all likelihood still here.

Cassidy and Charlie staying to make sure William was put in his place? That was expected. Even Henry lingering around wasn’t completely surprising after the last stunt he tried to pull to get rid of his once dear friend.

But Michael’s siblings didn’t have a reason to stay—not one that he could think of, at least.

He wanted to see them, of course; the urge was so sharp and painful he was still shocked he’d managed to reign Charlie in instead of following her right out the door. But surely they were tired after all this time… There’s no way they’d stay just to have another conversation with their big brother. So caught up in decades of self-hatred, Michael refused to believe that.

“…Are you both alright?” Freddy asked softly, his voice now back to normal.

He felt bad for snapping earlier, though at least it hadn’t seemed to distress Cassidy too much. The last thing Freddy wanted was William and the vengeful ghosts coming after them… Letting Gregory cling to him, the bear looked between Charlie and Michael. He couldn’t even begin to fathom what emotional turmoil they must be going through right now.

Charlie quietly nodded, her demeanor far away and dreamy. Her dad had been here the entire time—she wasn't even aware that his spirit was still tethered to this place. Did he stay for her? For Sammy?

No. It was likely for William, she thought. Their strange cat and mouse obsession with one another was less fascinating and more something that deeply disturbed her.

“We'll see—let’s focus on dismantling William and making this place safe for children again,” Charlie said, dismissing her own feelings in lieu of how strong they were. Cassidy would've left far into the underground of the Pizzaplex by now, telling her friends both new and old, that she’d enlisted the help of a few certain ghosts.

The tides of this strenuous battle would shift. With hope, the ghosts would have retribution.

“Right… I have a suggestion,” Michael started hesitantly, sitting up straight as he met Freddy’s questioning gaze. “You’re not going to like it, Freddy, but it'll help us in the long run.” He took a deep unneeded breath before letting out the next words in a rush. “I think we should decommission the other animatronics. Roxy and Chica definitely, maybe Moon if he comes after us again… but the Glamrocks pose the biggest threat.”

There was a moment of tense silence before Freddy shook his head. “No, I… I cannot do that. Roxy and Chica do not deserve it… they are under William’s control—”

“So was Monty, and you told me that you watched him almost rip Gregory apart before your eyes.” Michael grimaced at the wide-eyed fear on Gregory’s face at the stark reminder of one of his near-deaths. Honestly, this kid must be part cat or something—he certainly seemed to have nine lives. Although with the way things were going, those were running out quickly.

“I’m sorry, Freddy, but… we have to do this,” Michael pushed on, looking at the bear imploringly. “I hate to say it, but William is smart. We’ve got to be even smarter to take him down—and eliminating as many other threats as possible before we confront him is a good start.”

Gregory found himself subconsciously clinging to Freddy just a little harder. He’d been riding on luck and the skills of his friends the entire night. If he wanted to survive, Gregory was going to have to get more resourceful and be smarter than an old, crazed scientist. Whether Gregory believed in himself was out of the question; he learned quickly that having confidence in what you did could only get you so far. Just as Michael felt their luck slipping, so too did Gregory.

“I'm sorry Freddy... I don't want to hurt them. But they'll hurt me if I'm not careful...,” he pointed out bluntly. Honestly, taking down the Glamrocks may even be the easiest part of tonight. Avoiding William until it was the right time to strike and bring him down to the basement was another task entirely.

Freddy glanced down at his adoptive son, so small and fragile compared to everyone else. He understood Michael’s point, but hearing Gregory spell it out while looking up at him with those big, brown eyes solidified his decision. This boy trusted Freddy to keep him safe, and if that meant temporarily taking down his robotic bandmates in favor of preserving a human life, so be it.

After all, isn’t that what this iteration of Freddy had been designed for—to keep children happy and safe? A swell of protectiveness from deep in the bear’s core said yes.

“…Alright,” Freddy agreed, squeezing Gregory gently. He offered a smile to show he was on board with the plan and harbored no ill-will towards those who’d suggested it. “I agree that this is the best path forward.”

He paused, not believing he was about to offer advice on decommissioning his friends. Eventually, he continued in a softer tone: “Chica will be easier to take down than Roxy—she does not have hunting instincts like the wolf.” 

“Right! She's just a chicken. We might not even have to hurt her!” Gregory agreed. Considering how ditzy the virus had made her act, it’d be a certain win on their part.

(Once again, Gregory took to underestimating his enemies. While Chica was a soft, sweet person by day, the destruction of Monty created turmoil inside her AI. William would use that to his advantage now.

No, chickens did not hunt like wolves. But once they tasted blood, the old instincts of a raptor came forth...)

Charlie nodded her head in agreement at the plan.

“We'll go for Chica first, then,” she said decidedly. “Might be best to lure her as well. We could use some of that pizza Gregory didn't finish yet!”

Charlie tried to sound uplifting, though it was becoming harder and harder as the creative burnout with her ideas turned into something tangible. She lifted up the pizza box, shaking it to make sure there were still a few slices left. Upon seeing Gregory pout, Charlie rolled her pinprick eyes. “That’s why you should’ve rationed them. Along with your snacks. After we get rid of Chica for the night, we'll make you a new pizza.”

“Good plan!” Michael agreed, quickly getting to his feet. Now that they had a way forward, he wanted to move. The faster they could get this over with, the better.

“If pizza does not work in luring her, there is an alternative,” Freddy chimed in, still in that quiet tone of numb detachment at betraying one of his closest friends. “The company recently created a slushee flavor called Monty’s Mystery Mix. For whatever reason, Chica cannot resist eating it when it is placed in her vicinity. Staff had to temporarily ban it until a solution is discovered… I believe they hid the excess in the food storage pantry of the bowling alley.”

“Huh… if the mystery mix is that powerful, maybe we should just use that instead?” Michael suggested. He flashed Gregory a grin, gesturing his hook towards the pizza box in Charlie’s hands. “Plus, then Gregory can eat his last slice—if you can stomach it after everything you ate earlier, that is.”

The heavenly slices of grease coated cheese that was a Fazbear pizza would always have room in Gregory's stomach. Without saying so much as a word, Gregory snatched the box from Charlie's hands and devoured the last slice.

“Gregory!” Charlie shouted before it devolved into laughter at the boy’s antics. “No, little man, you're going to get a tummy ache!” She warned him again, though it was ignored by Gregory needing elaboration on this particular slushee flavor.

“Is the mystery mix pizza-flavored, by any chance?” Gregory wondered out loud. The possibilities were endless. As he lapped the bright orange oil and crumbs from his lips, Gregory held Freddy's hand again. He was ready to go in search of this particular, highly sought-after slushee.

“It is—good guess, superstar!” Freddy replied, unable to stop himself from chuckling a bit as well. Thank goodness they could still find enjoyment in the little things…

Freddy spared a side-eyed glance at Michael, his smile softening. The man really was quite good with children. Freddy didn’t know the details of Mike’s relationship with his own siblings, but if his interactions with Gregory were any indication, Evan and Elizabeth were lucky to have such an attentive older brother.

“Who thought of a pizza-flavored slushee?!” Michael asked incredulously, then made an exaggerated gagging noise. “Those two things should never be combined…” He paused, then added in a quieter mutter: “…Not that wouldn’t try it if I could.”

Charlie looked to Mike and laughed openly at this. “I was going to say—I figured you'd try it at least once!”

She thought of Michael's thoughtful nature as a hard-won battle. There was a period of time where this kind personality slipped in the worst sort of way and led to disastrous consequences. But as he matured, Charlie had grown proud of her friend. He could’ve so easily turned out for the worst. In fact, it was one of her many fears after both Evan's and her own death.

Michael also just happened to be full of surprises. His determination to be better made him more attentive as a caretaker, it seemed.

“Okay, so—we'll each have a sip and the rest will be for Chica,” Gregory said as Charlie became lost in her thoughts, though he certainly hoped that there would be more of this Mystery Flavor slushee to go around. Y’know, on the off-chance this was the pinnacle of all slushees. He wanted to make sure they wouldn't starve the rest of the night.

No one had the heart to remind Gregory that he was the only one who could take partake without the sweet instantly damaging his internal systems… Well, not as much as the animatronics’, at least. The question of what was actually in those slushees to make them so addictive was questionable enough that it probably should warrant a doctor’s note before a kid could consume one.

It would be safe to assume that after this long week, Gregory's gastro tract would be forever ruined by all the sugar, greasy food, and soft drinks... Or at least ruined for a while. He was still young, after all. Nothing like a few months of vegetables wouldn't fix.

“Let us not waste any more time,” Freddy prompted, giving Gregory’s hand a squeeze as he started for the door. “Everyone keep your guard up—if you see anything suspicious, let the group know. We will still try to keep out of the others’ sight as much as possible.”

Michael simply nodded as he settled into place behind Freddy and Gregory, alert and ready for the night ahead. He shook out his arms and legs to get out whatever metallic stiffness had sunk in after a day of lounging around, then looked to Charlie with a set expression. “Ready for another go at this?”

“I've been ready since the 80's,” she said with finality. She didn't seem touchy, exactly. Perhaps sensitive, as the encounter with Cassidy had given her much to reflect on.

“Don't worry, Freddy. If we need it, Michael's still got the Faz-glock,” Gregory remarked, cheerful and nonchalant. The bear's eyes snapped accusingly to Mike.

“What in the world is a ‘Faz-glock?!’”

Chapter Text

There’s nowhere left to run

There’s nowhere left to hide…

There’s no one left to hold us back tonight

And the show must go on

‘Cause we’re having just too much fun

We won’t stop now…

The night has just begun

~Too Much Fun by Akamodo~

The fox blanked for a second, not knowing what Gregory was referring to either, until he remembered their “prize” for getting through the trauma that was Fazer Blast.

“The Fazblaster!” Michael replied quickly, trying to quell the bear’s wrath as much as possible. He was clearly not a fan of Gregory having secondary access to a laser gun outside of its appropriate attraction—which was kind of endearing, in an ironic way. Michael tapped a fist to his chest plate, where he’d decided to store the potential weapon. “I stuck it in here in case we needed it.”

After sending Michael an apologetic glance, Gregory bit down a smile. He found it funny regardless, but would try his best not to showcase the humor. Charlie lightly knocked into Gregory as she picked up the pace to walk beside him, watchful as ever.

“Quit making your dad worry, kiddo,” Charlie chided, tone light-handed enough to show she was scolding him for good reasons. Gregory's giggles stopped, but the smile stayed. It curled slightly as his hazel eyes met Charlie's empty sockets.

“Alright, big sis,” he quipped back, clearly in a silly mood. Charlie raised her hand and pinched his cheek, moving his face back and forth uncomfortably as Gregory attempted to bat her away, nearly failing to keep his laughter from echoing around the empty mall.

He really thought she was acting like a big sister?

“I'm serious, twerp! I know you're excited for slushees and getting tonight done, but you have to be focused!” she hissed, though for someone with Charlie's sweet voice, it sounded all bark and no bite.

“Urgh—fine, fine! Just quit it; I bruise like a banana, dude...” Gregory bumped into Charlie as a last retaliation before turning a diligent eye to the journey before them.

Michael felt the smiling joints in his face stretching dangerously close to snapping. He couldn’t help it though—hearing Charlie referred to as Gregory’s sibling and seeing her subsequent reaction made a pang of happy relief shoot through his very soul.

It was clear that Gregory trusted them all to keep him safe, not just Freddy. But to hear so blatantly that he considered Charlie’s protectiveness as sisterly was another level of familial closeness that none of the ghosts were prepared for. Hell, Mike was still trying to get over the fact that in less than 48 hours, an animatronic bear had become a better father figure towards all three of them than his own parent…

Of course, Mike was curious what Gregory thought about him, too. Was he considered a big brother now? A good one this time—one that his siblings wanted to hang out with.

A brother they felt safe around…

Michael honestly didn’t know how to react to this concept. In a sense, this is what he wanted for decades: to be the big brother he should’ve been all those years ago. Gregory might not be related by blood, but neither were the Emilys, and Michael considered them family; Charlie was as much of a sister as anyone could be. Even Freddy fell into that category now, as strange as that was to admit.

But… Mike would have to wait and see. He was brought out of these internal musings when they entered the main atrium and Freddy held up an arm for them to pause.

“Wait,” the bear whispered, eyes narrowed and head cocked to the side. “Do you hear something?”

Stopped now, the group looked to Freddy, visions quickly scattering around them as an odd scraping noise became apparent. What with the lowered visibility now cast in the purple lighting of the atrium, Gregory especially struggled to see where that distant noise stemmed from.

A grunt and the sound of someone straining and metal denting drew Gregory's vision skyward. On the floor directly parallel to their path was a supremely pissed-off chicken. Above her head, fingers digging into its digital display was a fully stocked Fizzy Faz vending machine. Upon being seen, she bent knees and snapped up, sending the metal box falling with its destination atop the quartet.

“RUN!” was all Gregory could muster, his brain acting on fight or flight at the short glimpse of danger.

The boy took off, dragging the lightweight Charlie at his side. Surprisingly, she’d gone limp at his wailing and had been easily knocked from the falling machine's path. Together they managed to jump a distance away and narrowly avoid the burst metal shards it created. The sound of glass from its LCD menu loudly shorted out, sparking blue in the darkness. It illuminated to Gregory that Freddy and Michael's path was only just caught off by Chica's violent plan. The chicken loudly stomped her foot, cracking the tile beneath her.

“I WON'T LET YOU GET AWAY WITH IT! You OR that rotten kid!” she crowed angrily, heading now for the stairs that started a ways behind the group.

“Take Gregory and go!” Freddy shouted to Puppet, his gaze swiveling around to take stock of their situation. His first instinct was to try and rush past the broken machine to reach Gregory and Charlie, but blue sparks still spewed violently as the vestiges of electrical current petered out. Michael grabbed his arm and pulled Freddy away at the last second before a volt shocked his system.

“Freddy, this way!” Michael hissed, dragging the bear in a wide arc around the debris. As they moved, Mike kept an eye on their path forward as Freddy looked to Chica. If they’d thought last night was bad, they had no idea what she had in store for them now. William’s virus was clearly going haywire, and Freddy had never seen such an angry expression on the bird’s usually kind, cheery face.

“Chica! Please calm down!” Freddy called as he and Michael moved into a spot directly between the approaching bird and their friends. Freddy knew his pleas would fall on deaf ears, but at least he might be able to provide a distraction for the others to get away. He crouched into a defensive stance, protectively pushing Mike behind his back. 

“Dad, don't—” Gregory was heaved back, lifted under the arms despite massively protesting it. Charlie had to avoid being kicked, as Gregory was still operating in the most base self-preservation instinct. He couldn't deal with being separated again, and despite his shouting for Freddy and Michael, Charlie only sped up the pace.

“Stop screaming!” she hissed, dipping through tables and party favors to head for the bowling alley, one hand now clasped over Gregory's mouth. She feared if someone else heard them escaping, they might not make it out of the situation intact.

Chica was stomping her way down the stairs, footfalls so intense it sounded as if she could nearly bust through the rebar. Even the panels on her foot casings were looking stressed despite today’s maintenance, cracks forming up her legs from unneeded bashing and abuse.

“So why'd you do it, huh? You think you know a guy… Why'd you dismantle Monty, Freddy?! He idolized you!” Chica spouted accusatorially, facing off against Freddy with nothing but contempt in her eyes. Oil stained her face, emanating from her eye sockets due to a popped gasket. It gave her the appearance of running makeup from crying, and only multiplied the crazed look as Chica stared down the bear.

“You probably got rid of Bonnie, too! Who's next, you murderer? Me? Roxy?! I won't let you hurt her, that's for sure!” the bird shrieked, raising clenched fists as if ready to box her once-trusted friend.

“How dare you suggest I decommissioned Bonnie?!” Freddy snapped back, eyes wide with hurt. “I had nothing to do with that—none of us did! You don’t understand—”

The bear stopped, closing his eyes for just a second to compose himself. Bonnie was a sore spot even after all this time, but he couldn’t let that get to him. That wasn’t the cause of Chica’s anger. With steely-eyed determination Freddy stood to his full height, shoulders squared as he faced down the enraged bird.

“I will admit: I did damage Monty,” Freddy confessed, loudly pushing through Chica’s shriek of rage as he tried to explain. “But it was self-defense. He was too far gone—he was going to kill an innocent child! I could not let that happen!”

“Freddy, keep her talking,” Michael muttered behind his shoulder. From his position, he was able to see the bowling alley out of the corner of his right eye and he’d just caught sight of a dark shape slipping into the shadows near one of the escalators leading up to it. Even if they couldn’t take Chica down this second, maybe they could at least stall her for a bit while the others got to relative safety.

Chica considered Freddy's words, and for a moment it seemed like he was talking sense into her now easily-agitated mind. Though as she followed Foxy’s eyes, watching as the lanky Puppet stole the child away, she began to flip out again.

“That kid?! Freddy—he's using you!” her mind somehow fabricated. “He's a little criminal and he's not going to stop until he's made you destroy everyone!”

She said this with such certainty that if Freddy hadn’t already known and loved Gregory, she might’ve sounded believable. It was bitterly sweet that her version of reality was not the true one. Apparently, William had forgotten to call off the band and they were in fact still out for Gregory's blood.

Chica's vision flashed Michael once more. She stepped towards him and swung a fist aimed directly at the side of his head, irritated beyond repair from the simple act of having seen the child once again. “And you, ew—shut up, traitor!”

To everyone’s surprise including his own, Michael’s reflexes were fast. A millisecond before Chica’s fist make a sizable dent in his face, his paw instinctively shot up and caught her mid-swing. For a terrible moment he was staring directly into those oil-stained eyes, desperately fighting Chica’s solid strength with his own wild fear. A hairline crack in the tile floor began from where Michael’s peg leg jammed down in an attempt to hold himself up as Chica bared her weight upon him. She was smaller and her mind was lost, but she sure as hell had a better handle on this fight than he did.

Suddenly the bird’s weight lifted away, causing Mike to pitch forward in an attempt to counterbalance the abrupt shift in his center. He soon realized this was Freddy’s doing—he’d grabbed Chica’s other arm and bodily flung her across the room, sending her sliding painfully across the floor with a metallic screech. The bear’s patience and intolerance for violence were clearly nearing their end.

Michael flashed him a shaky smile and thumbs-up to signal he was okay, then got to work dislodging his peg leg from the floor. Freddy turned to Chica, slowly approaching as she recovered.

Chica's surprise over Foxy's faster than life reflexes was cut short by the powerful throw Freddy had in store for her. She was more or less launched claw foot over feathered head at least fifteen feet back, the impact cracking more of the glittery black tiling. In her tumble, one of her arms had bent and snapped under the strain.

It seemed that the animatronics responded unexpectedly to Freddy's returned violence. As Chica recovered, instead of going for round two she rolled as fast as she could to her side to run away—moving in the opposite direction of Michael and Freddy, she tripped over her now damaged and dismembered left wing. Chica cried out, falling again in a hysteric heap on the floor.

She is scared of me.

That thought reverberated through Freddy’s mind, blocking out everything else. Sure, he’d done much worse to Monty than a toss across the floor, but the gator’s eyes had only held deep, dark anger.

But Chica… she was different. She stared up at Freddy with absolute terror as he approached, more oil seeming to leak out of her eye sockets and create the semblance of fresh tear streaks as she desperately tried to scramble away.

She is scared… of ME.

Close enough to touch now, the bear began reaching out a hand, his expression full of regretful apology. “Chica, I—”

“No, Freddy—come on!” It was Michael’s turn for the quick save, grasping Freddy’s other paw and tugging him away harshly. He was glad Chica was cowering; maybe they could use this fear of her bandmate to their advantage somehow… But for now they needed to regroup, and they needed to do it before the bird freaked out even more and tried to attack again.

“But—”

“For fuck's sake MOVE, you stubborn bear!”

With one more insistent tug, Michael successfully got Freddy to move away from the prone chicken. Mike kept a tight grip on him, especially as Freddy peered over his shoulder to check on his friend. He was clearly disturbed by what he’d done, and Michael only hoped that seeing the one they were really trying to protect from Chica’s wrath would snap Freddy out of his thoughts. 

***

How long does it take to lose trust in a friend?

Some it takes years, ruminating on actions and behavior. For others, mere seconds. Luckily for Freddy, Chica wouldn’t remember the moment she lost trust in the bear once dawn encroached the horizon outside. However, it was abundantly clear that he would always recall the look of vindicated fear that over took her features.

Abandoning her crushed, useless arm, Chica fled in the opposite direction from Bonnie Bowl—likely aiming to hide, or warn Roxy.

That is, if Roxy was still capable of listening to even Chica's messed-up reason.

***

In Bonnie bowl, hiding places were scarce. Guarding a closet with a chair lifted defensively over her head stood a vigilant Charlie.

Was the hiding spot obvious? Yes.

Would Charlie let her body be broken before letting someone get to said closet? Also yes.

***

Why were the damn elevators so SLOW?!

This is the question that repeated in Michael's mind as he and Freddy took the metal box down into the bowling alley. He tapped his foot impatiently, leaning against the cool metal wall with arms crossed as he observed Freddy carefully. The bear seemed to be in shock, though at least he was compliant enough to let Mike tote him around.

Michael himself had a few things to process from that encounter, as the tingling anxiety slowly working its way up the base of his spine indicated. He could get to that later, though—after he and Freddy were reunited with the others. Thankfully, the elevator doors soon opened. Michael worried that he'd have to drag Freddy with him, but the bear followed obediently, perking up at their surroundings as if he'd finally remembered the whole point of this fiasco. The bowling alley was quiet save for the whirring mechanics of a few random S.T.A.F.F. bots, but they were focused on patrolling the arcade portion of the area so the animatronics paid them no mind.

“Gregory?” Freddy called softly, looking around for any sign of the boy. “Charlie? We are here—everything is alright. Chica is... taken care of for now.”

Upon hearing Freddy's call Charlie put the stool down, waiting for them to come into view as she waved.

“Guys—” she called, relief evident in her tone. “—thank god. I put him in the supply closet and told him to lock it. There weren't many hiding spots in here.”

She ushered the boys over to an unassuming door and knocked a secret pattern against the wood grain. Once finished, a set of two locks could be heard from the inside, where Gregory answered with his camera primed and ready in hand.

“Is she gone...?” he asked, glancing to Freddy. He looked bummed out, and Gregory was ready to comfort his dad if necessary.

Despite Freddy's self-loathing at the thought of hurting Chica, he couldn't help but smile at the sight of Gregory safe and sound. With a quick nod, Freddy crouched and held out his arms for a hug—even if Gregory didn't need one right now, he certainly did. When Gregory fell into Freddy's chest, he gave him a huge squeeze.

“My hero,” Gregory told him with a soft certainty. He needed to remind his ursine father that he was still good. The fact that he felt bad while having to defend against his friends proved that he had a conscience—that he was a good guy on the inside. Gregory wasn't sure if he could respect Freddy more than he did now.

Meanwhile, Michael sank heavily into a nearby plastic seat, the sound of metal softly clinking together filling the room as his body began shaking of its own accord. With Chica’s immediate threat gone, the subdued after effects of his own shock were starting to hit. Michael leaned forward, head clasped in his paw as he stared blankly at the floor.

That… had been terrifying.

That was the first up close and personal encounter with a crazed animatronic besides “Bonnie” that Michael had since waking up in the Pizzaplex. He’d been caught up in the moment, fear and ghostly adrenaline sharpening his mind just enough to get him and Freddy out of danger… but Chica’s attack scared him shitless. Her sudden lunge gave him flashbacks to countless night guard jobs where he’d fended off animatronics just like her. Of course, those had contained the souls of dead children who thought Michael was his father come to taunt them in their afterlife. There was always a sliver of a chance he could appeal to them, explain the situation and they’d back off, at least for the night.

But Glamrock Chica was just an AI—and in a way, that made her even scarier.

Sure, Freddy’s AI managed to develop a sense of human-level morality that Michael could appeal to, but Chica’s hadn’t—nor would it be able to as long as she was under William’s control. Thank god Mike wasn’t alive anymore, or he most certainly would have died from that punch to the skull.

These racing thoughts left Michael a trembling mess in the chair, arms wrapped around himself as if that would help somehow. His hook was tearing a new hole in his already-tattered coat, but he didn’t seem to notice or care.

Charlie had noticed Michael's state pretty quickly. It was a good opportunity to stop dwelling on the leftover thoughts from this afternoon’s meeting with Cassidy, so she’d distract herself with other people's problems and push her own to the wayside as she always had. Her terrible coping mechanisms had luckily gone undetected by her friends thus far, which suited Charlie just fine. She placed a hand on Michael's hooked hand, stilling him.

“Mike?” she asked softly, unsure if she could get a response. She’d be lucky to drag him out of this alarming stupor he'd been placed in. It looked like an anxiety attack, something Charlie hadn't helped him with since the mid-80s. As soon as Michael stopped tearing into his coat, she pulled her hand back and asked him: “Can you talk? Are you... alright?”

For a horrible moment, Michael was back in one of the old Fazbear locations. The music box had wound down to dark, oppressive silence. Damn, he'd forgotten turn the key during his last round of the building. Now the Puppet was here, pissed off as hell and about to try and claw his eyes out because they looked just a bit too much like her murderer's.

Mike threw his arms up to protect his face, but was surprised when they smacked into something hard that made a metal clanging noise upon impact. It was... a snout? Foxy's to be exact, similar to the mask Michael had as a kid, but this one didn't move when he tried to lift it.

Suddenly, the reality of where he was crashed over him like a wave and he sucked in a simulated, breath.

“Oh... Charlie...” Michael simply stared at her for a second before abruptly pulling her into a tight hug. “S-Sorry, I... got a little lost, there. I'm... I'm okay. Freddy and I... we kicked Chica's ass, and as long as you and Gregory are fine, I'll be alright.”

She squished against Michael, quick to hold on. It was clear as day that he’d been scared by Chica out there. Whatever happened left Mike with a long stare, apparent even in those mechanical eyes. Charlie beat herself up over not knowing what to say, unaware that just being there could help this awful and oppressive feeling. She reached up to card long fingers through his mane, knowing that when she had hair, the feeling of someone playing with it while she was upset calmed her down. It was why she did it to Gregory too, the action made to soothe its recipient. Charlie wondered if Michael was even aware of the sensation.

“Everyone's okay, thanks to you and Freddy,” she finally mustered, knowing the boys needed their fair share of praise for the effort they put in to keep each other safe.

Michael smiled at her reassurance, glad that she could still comfort him despite everything they'd been through. He could sense her messing with his wild mane, but it wasn't quite the same feeling as if it was really his. The gesture was appreciated, though. He recalled being in this same position with Charlie many times as kids—sitting on the floor of her room, hugging each other tightly after some traumatic event that left Michael in an anxiety-ridden state that was only quelled by a long hug and some reassuring words.

As his best friend, Charlie was the only one who got to see him like this. Yes, the neurotic tendencies increased with Michael's years and experiences, but they were always there somewhat. He just bounced back a lot quicker as a kid and put on a brave face to the world.

In earlier days, when they were much younger and innocent, it'd been small things like losing his favorite toy that could set him off. In later years, once Charlie had forgiven Michael for what he'd done, it was to comfort each other after Evan's death. And soon after that... Charlie's room was empty and barren of life, and Michael thought he'd never get to hug his best friend again.

Mike held her closer at this memory. He finally spared a glance at the others, who of course were looking at him with great concern. Freddy was now upright with Gregory's hand in his, and Michael gave them what was quickly becoming his—Foxy's?—trademark grin.

“Hey, I'm alright—really. Gregory, you won't believe how awesome your dad was out there!”

Charlie clapped his back, urging him to pretend everything was alright for the time being. They could fall apart together after Gregory was safe. She pulled away from Michael's hug, thinking it better for both him and Gregory to speak.

“You guys don't even have a scratch on you!” Gregory noticed, impressed by their combined skills. He glanced away, as if he was unsure of whether he should say what was on his mind. “...But you are being careful, too, right?”

At some points, Gregory understood they wanted to keep him safe. He’d been discreetly slipped the role of “baby,” it seemed. It was nice being cared for, but Gregory had begun to see not just the physical toll it was taking, but the mental strain on all his friends. He looked from Michael to Freddy, then over to Charlie.

Charlie was the first to answer, thinking quickly. “We're fine! Don't worry so much, we’re almost to the mystery slushee. Remember?”

She tried to side track from having a discussion about their feelings with a little boy who likely couldn't handle the complexity of their scenario. She spoke for the rest of them, figuring they felt similarly. There was no need to focus of her own baggage when there were obviously more pressing matters on the docket.

“We are being as careful as we can, superstar,” Freddy said, ruffling Gregory's hair. It wasn't a lie—they were being careful! It was just hard to predict how animatronics infected with the influence of a decades-dead child murderer would behave, and all they could do was react accordingly. “Now, as Charlie said—we are almost to the mystery mix! I know you are excited to try some!”

“Oh, this is either going to be the best thing ever, or the worst!” Michael laughed, standing up to follow after Freddy and Gregory. He was really interested in the boy's opinion of this gnarly slushee flavor, and focusing on his attention on this completely normal event helped a great deal.

After all, why dwell in the past when there were much more exciting things happening in the present?

Gregory's morbid curiosity had gotten the better of him, watching in amusement as Charlie took the lead. She jumped, rolling over the smooth top of the counter and falling behind it like a ragdoll, then flailed for a cup and went to the ever-churning slushee machine. After a quick glance, she’d been relieved to see they didn't yet switch out the mystery mix from their “Daily Special!” slushee dispenser.

What had filled the extra-large slushee cup was an orange earth-toned mixture. It reeked of tomato, basil, and cheese with a saccharine finish. Still, Gregory eagerly took it with no second thoughts about how off-putting the scent was.

It was all in the texture. It threw him off completely with its frosty ice crystals, crunching and melting in his mouth where there clearly should have been a doughy bread feeling instead.

“It... sure does taste like pizza!” Gregory laughed, wiping his mouth as he made a scrunched up face. “That's weird—I wish you guys could try this!”

This was a cursed slushee. Of course the murder-chicken loved it, Gregory thought.

“On second thought, based on that reaction I'm kind of glad I can't,” Michael said, only half-joking. That thing sure was... something else. Yet another Fazbear creation that shouldn't exist, brought into the world to torment the lives of innocent humans. Well, unless you liked pizza-flavored ice, that is.

“It is a rather divisive drink,” Freddy commented, his voice flowing through the open doorway to the storage area as he rummaged around for packets of pre-mixed flavoring. His search was successful, and he emerged behind the counter holding up a bag full of the orange substance. It was even stranger in this form, the artificial pizza-liquid sloshing in a clear plastic bag like some biohazard just waiting to be released to wreak havoc on the world.

“Now the question is—” Mike began once he'd torn his eyes away from the mesmerizing concoction. “—where do we lure Chica? It's got to be somewhere that can do some serious damage if we want to take her out for the night...”

As Freddy showed off the biohazard orange bag, Charlie raised her floppy hand in suggestion.

“Don't judge me for thinking about this but... what about the trash compactor? Surely a place this huge has one near the kitchen,” Charlie suggested. Given it had remnants of Chica’s favorite comfort food— “She'll probably already be around there, and the compactor might also be the, uh... quickest way.”

Freddy's face slipped into a grimace, but only for a second before changing to a totally neutral expression. He couldn't keep skirting around the facts—he had to accept that the only way his crazed friends would no longer be a threat is if they were broken beyond function. Not beyond repair; they'd be fixed up and good as new when William was gone. They just needed to be decommissioned temporarily so they weren't an obstacle towards a goal that would save them in the end.

“Yes... that is the best place for us to set a trap,” Freddy agreed, his tone a bit muter than usual. He wasn't about to shut down or break into hysterics, which was all the others could ask for. He glanced in the direction of Bonnie Bowl's exit, frowning softly. “Hopefully she is recovering and will not still be wandering the atrium...”

“Freddy, I think... I think even if she does notice us, as long as she sees you and not Gregory, she'll stay away,” Michael added gently, trying to be encouraging in a roundabout way. He looked at Freddy questioningly, and the bear sighed and nodded, knowing what Mike was about to say next. “Chica's already pretty damaged—not only were all those weird stress fractures back and worse than last night, but Freddy sort of unintentionally took off her arm when trying to help me.”

Whistling lowly, Gregory thought of how brutal it must’ve looked. He kind of wished that he could’ve seen the carnage, though he had a strong feeling Freddy wouldn’t want him exposed to that sort of thing, let alone not wanting to show a more violent side of himself.

“I could hide inside your hatch if she’s still roaming, Mike,” Gregory suggested, reaching over and gently knocking against the service hatch on the front of Foxy's chest. He was sure it was still the same design as Freddy's. The gesture also showed how much Gregory trusted Michael, knowing that the fox was just as capable of keeping him safe as the others.

It was Michael's turn to grimace this time, though his expression stayed as he pressed a hand to his chest plate.

Gregory had a point—if he could fit inside Freddy's surprise compartment, he could definitely fit into Foxy's. Plus, Michael realized he hadn't actually needed to charge since taking possession of the animatronic. The only time he'd been in a charging pod was when Freddy was summoned to Parts & Service the day prior. He still doubted Foxy's body would last long outside the Pizzaplex, but he might not need to worry about Gregory's unexpected weight causing a power drain like Freddy.

And yet... for reasons only Michael knew—and Charlie, to some extent—he couldn't bring himself to readily agree. Willingly putting a child inside an animatronic suit, even one he was in complete control of, was not something Mike could do unless circumstances were absolutely dire.

“I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I'm still new to this whole 'animatronic body' thing,” he said eventually, attempting a grin as he ruffled Gregory's hair. “Freddy's a much better option for carrying you around—and the others still can't see you if you're hiding inside him, remember? So it'll be fine! Besides—” Stepping back to assure he had clearance, he opened Foxy's chest hatch to reveal the golden Fazerblaster secured and ready for action. “—I'm keeping a hold of this bad boy!”

Gregory gasped, pointing out the gun to Freddy.

“Look! That's the Faz-glock!” he told the bear, hoping that resolved Michael of any and all doubt. Charlie laughed, deciding to pick Gregory up and removing the partially-drunk slushee from his hands.

“I'll take that for now. We don't need you spilling that inside Freddy...,” Charlie murmured, finding that Gregory stole the cup back for one last sip. And no, he still didn't like it. He cringed once again before shoving the plastic cup back into Charlie's hand.

After Freddy opened up, Charlie gently placed Gregory away. She was well aware of Michael's fear and would rather not stress out Gregory's adoptive big brother.

“We'll see you when we've got Chica under control!” Charlie assured him gently.

“The journey should not be long, but let me know if you need a break, Gregory,” Freddy added, and after Gregory pulled his acknowledging thumbs-up back inside, Freddy closed up his chest plate. The boy really wasn't heavy—it was definitely Safe Mode that affected his battery so much, but he wasn't going to have that removed without fighting with any staff member that suggested it.

“I'll take that,” Michael said, grabbing the slushee mixture from Freddy's hand. “You've got more important cargo to focus on. Come on—let's get out of here.”

“Just say the word, Fredbear, and I’ll take him somewhere safe,” Charlie said quietly, reminding Freddy that in a pinch, she could take Gregory off his hands. She watched as Michael grabbed the fragrant mix and laughed. “Honestly—how tempted are you to drink that right now?”

“Honestly?” Michael held the liquid up to eye level, with a curious hum. “About... 75% tempted.”

“I would strongly advise against it,” Freddy had to chime in, though he knew Michael was just joking. Well... he hoped he was, at least. 

To everyone's relief, they made it to the service elevator leading down to the kitchens without incident. There were no sign of animatronics, and also no sign of the night guard either. Freddy was sure she was wandering around somewhere, though he hoped Vanessa remained herself as long as possible. Not only did he hate the thought of her being controlled to do that horrible man's bidding, but the less time “Vanny” was around, the more time their little group had to get things done.

Eventually, they reached a set of swinging-style doors to the main kitchens. Michael peered through the porthole, eyes widening as he caught a flash of white and pink stumble out of a set of matching doors on the opposite side of the room. In a hushed whisper, Mike informed his friends: “She's definitely here—I just saw her leave the kitchen through the other side. The coast is clear now if one of us wanted to rush in and set the trap?”

Chica was covering her face with her one, good arm. Things were looking dire around the Pizzaplex. The staff had thrown away any and all pizza scraps, and there was little to no sign of Roxanne. Who knew if Freddy and his murderous gang had already gotten to her and Moon...

All Chica could do was face the corner and weep. The more upset she got, the worse the gaskets in her eyes popped and blew out, causing more oil to spill in gory streams down her rounded cheeks.

Though Charlie found herself disturbed at the all too realistic crying, she knew what she had to do.

“I'm the quietest one, I'll go.” She didn’t accept any debate as she held her hand out for the sticky, sugary pizza drink. The contents of that bag should make this part easy. “I'll stay inside. Someone's got to make sure she powers down...”

“Be careful,” Michael murmured, giving Charlie's shoulder a squeeze and moving into position next to one of the doors, ready to dash in if needed.

Freddy took up a similar post on the opposite side of the doors, though his goal was to hang back and try to avoid getting directly involved if possible. He pressed a hand over his chest hatch, reassuring himself that Gregory was still there and safe. Quietly so only Gregory could hear his voice echoing inside the compartment, Freddy told him: “We are almost done, superstar; hold on just a little longer.”

Luckily the seams on Freddy's outer casing were tight, and once they’d stopped moving Gregory closed his eyes and took blind selfies with the polaroid. They printed out and were quickly shoved in a pocket of Gregory’s cargo shorts before Freddy's voice caught his attention.

“I'm okay, Dad!” he assured, leaning forward and knocking gently against the inside of Freddy's chest.

Aloof, Charlie crouched down low, sneaking in through the saloon-kitchen style doors. The entry hadn't clocked with Chica, her own sobs filling her range of hearing. Carefully creeping, Charlie made sure to keep a good distance away from the bird and ignored her pitiable sniffles and sobs.

“I couldn't save you, Monty... I can't save anyone!” she lamented, unable to cope. That was, until that familiar sound of something falling into the trash compactor caught her attention.

Frightened for a moment, Chica whipped her head around a near 180 degrees. Purple, avian eyes slicked with oil had locked onto the ripe orange bag. Could that be…?

It was.

A brand new, unopened bag of Monty's Mystery Mix! Chica couldn't think of a better way to celebrate Monty's memory than with a half-gallon bag of artificial pizza-flavored drinks.

Slowly, clumsily, Chica pulled herself up. She remained unaware that Charlie watched her from inside a cabinet, her mission clear. Kneeling just outside the compactor, Chica ripped into the bag to carefully slur down its contents, crying while she did so only as the emotional pain became too great to bear.

Gurgling sounds would emit from Chica as Charlie pressed the button to the compactor, the bird becoming slower as a result of the sticky liquid clinging to her insides. The viscous orange slushee mix wore her down, but upon hearing the compactor move Chica made a valiant effort to get out of the way. It was slow enough that Charlie could tell the incoming compactor simply wouldn't hit her—

So Puppet decided to take things into her own long-fingered hands.

Chica only had the time to grunt, a weak and betrayed sound as she spat up some of her slushee and was shoved unceremoniously back into the mess of garbage. She managed to grasp Charlie's ankle with her good hand, ready to wretch herself from danger until she was met with the crushing plates. They would silence Chica for good after its hydraulics smeared her into the ground of the compactor, making Charlie relieved that she hadn't pulled her inside.

…Unfortunately, Charlie forgot that all the garbage being compressed had to go somewhere. With Chica's death grip no match for Puppet clawing the floor, both girls were pulled down into the dark recesses of the basement.

“NO!” Michael's scream reverberated through the entire floor, an unholy mixture of human and machine as Foxy's voice box picked up on the ghost's anguish. It echoed off the walls and caused any bot unfortunate enough to be caught in its vicinity to momentarily short-circuit.

All except Freddy, who'd thankfully had the foresight to cover his ears to soften the worst of the noise.

“Michael, wait—!” Freddy exclaimed, reaching for the fox, but it was too late. Michael had already rushed through the doors, hoping beyond hope that Charlie would somehow be perfectly fine and sitting in the compactor, waiting for him with her static grin and laughing at how overreactive he was being.

However... neither she nor Chica was there. The kitchen was deathly silent, save for the faint whirring as the trash compactor reset itself. Michael's eyes snapped to the hatch the girls had disappeared though, then to the button to activate the heavy machinery. All thoughts of self-preservation promptly flew out of his mind as a wild idea took their place.

Freddy threw the doors open just as Michael pushed the button to reactivate the compactor. The bear's eyes widened as he realized what Mike was about to do, but Freddy had to stop and press a hand over his chest compartment as Gregory started banging on the inside to be let out. He didn't want to risk the boy somehow unlocking the hatch from the inside, catching sight of Michael, and deciding to follow after this insane plan.

“Don't...,” Freddy commanded, his voice firm as he stared Michael dead in the eyes. The compactor crushed down on nothing, then began to reset.

Mike flashed Freddy a grin, his eyes full of nothing but determination—for once, not an ounce of fear could be seen. He was going to save Charlie, and that was that.

“Sorry, Freddy—I've got to,” Michael replied, looking to the compactor. The time was right, so he gave the bear a rather pirate-like salute and dashed to the now-open hatch that led down to the basement. “Keep Gregory safe, and don't worry about us; Charlie and I will meet up with you both soon!”

And with that, Michael jumped into the dark abyss, the tip of his mane just barely missing the crush of the hatch doors slamming back into place.

***

The drop would’ve caused the stomachs of mortal men to rise up their throats. For a moment, it didn't even seem as though he was falling. The rancid air of the trash compactor whizzed past him, though in complete darkness that was all you had to know that you were dropping to certain doom...

Then, the trash compactor’s shaft slowly curved, catching and scooping Michael as it rose to meet his fall, cradling him as he slid down and out. Into the main landfill, trash built up over the years came to greet him and break the pirate’s fall. One piece of garbage in particular had made an extra loud banging sound when he landed on it—Chica's currently unresponsive form caught him in her lap, dead eyes rolling with each violent tremor.

Upon first glance, there was no sign of Charlie. She couldn't have been buried at all, so it was safe to assume she hightailed it into the darkness to look for a way out.

Michael quickly scrambled away from the bird, trying to stand too fast on unsteady ground and promptly rolling head over heel-and-peg-leg down the trash pile. He landed on his side with a squelch, in a big lump of what Michael presumed used to be pizza scraps sometime in the last century. It was certainly preferable to a crunch, though—he was lucky nothing major had been damaged. The worst results of his short-lived trip through the metal shaft were a number of dents here and there—and he was sure he’d stink to high heaven once he got out of this place—but that was it.

“Charlie?!” Michael whisper-yelled as he got to his feet for real.

Anyone wandering around down here in the middle of the night would have to be insane… although Mike quickly realized that almost everyone around him was going crazy, so it was completely possible he’d run into an unexpected face. He just hoped that if he did, they were friendly.

There was a door on the far side of the room that Michael headed for, peering into the shadowed corners as he moved and calling out for his lost friend.

Beyond the door was a hallway, floodlights powered by long forgotten gas generators just barely illuminated the way. It was dank inside the cavernous, mostly abandoned trash heap portion of the building. With collapsed scaffolding, the dusty or knocked over shelving on top of already grimy and wet floors didn’t exactly scream kid-friendly.

Down, down the fox traveled, dirt giving way to more building-like rubble as he maneuvered into a clearly unused part of the Pizzaplex. It was so far below the surface not even trash could be found—the remnants of old S.T.A.F.F. bots long-since abandoned into the twisting caverns above.

When Michael was thoroughly lost as all hell and called out to Charlie for what had to be the thirtieth time, he was initially met with more silence. Then, a hysterical and panicked shriek came from what definitely sounded like his best friend, high-pitched and piercing.

Charlie was never one to scare easily, but that wailing expression was unmistakably her.

Michael dashed forward without a second thought, making a beeline for the noise. What he discovered took him completely by surprise: the faintly-lit passage gave way to the half-buried remains of a building. It looked worse for wear, and there was a heavy, dented metal door that was cracked just wide enough for the lanky Puppet to slip through.

The thing that had Charlie paralyzed with fear wasn’t so much a what, but a who. More specifically, it Charlie’s own blank expression staring back at her on a recognizable, very human face.

Only it wasn't her.

Charlie had no idea what this thing was she found inside a large metallic cabinet. A replica? A clone? Even more disturbing, it stood beside three near-identical ones, varying from the age Charlie died to a girl well into her mid-fifties.

Her own mortality had come back to haunt her, and Charlie found herself shielding her face and body by scrunching into the fetal position at the sight of her familiar visage that’d once been lost to time.

In less than thirty seconds from the scream, Michael was at her side. He wrapped the trembling Puppet into a firm hug, cradling her in his arms and rocking slightly as he mumbled comforting reassurance. It was then that he too noticed the bodies in the cryogenic-esque cabinet. He didn’t recognize them at first, but as his gaze drifted over to one that resembled a startlingly familiar sixteen year old girl, Michael’s metaphorical heart dropped.

“What the fuck…?” was all he could say, frozen to the spot in shocked horror.

That… body was Charlie’s, perfectly preserved right before she’d met her horrible end in a dark, rainy alley. As Michael looked closer, he realized that they were all supposed to be Charlie at different stages in her life. Whoever had created these obviously wanted to see her grow up into the woman she’d never get to be.

Michael was so transfixed on Charlie’s lookalikes that he hadn’t thought to turn around and examine the rest of the room. If he did, he’d find an identical cabinet on the opposite wall parallel to the Charlie-clones. There were four bodies in this cabinet as well—and three were unmistakable to the Afton.

“I-It's me!” Charlie cried out, holding onto Michael's coat as if it were a safety line, the only thing that could save her as she flailed about inside an ocean of torment. “—someone m-made a bunch of t-them...”

Charlie was unsure if she could really call this herself anymore. It was a face long-dead. Gone were pink rosy cheeks and deep brown eyes; no soft hair to put in braids and play with. Now she was just a Puppet, stuck behind a stoic mask.

It took her quite a long time to recover, having to hold Mike's shoulders as she untucked herself from his chest. Only then was she willing to behold everything about the room. While seeing herself was horrifying enough, seeing Michael standing against the opposing wall, young with his shaggy and untamed hair like he was simply asleep behind glass was surreal.

“Mike...,” Charlie gasped quietly. “What the fuck are these...?”

“Holy shit…” Michael breathed, eyes impossibly wide as he finally turned to see his own replica, preserved at the age just before his guts had been unceremoniously ripped out and he’d rotted to purple. His face was so clearly his father’s, though it still held just enough of a youth long-lost to William Afton for Mike to truly call it his own.

Hesitantly, Michael stepped up to the cabinet and gently pressed his hand against the glass—not in front of his own body, but those of his siblings standing next to him. They were just as he remembered: innocent, cherubic faces that in their “sleeping” forms didn’t betray the pain and hurt they carried deep within.

Lizzie had her strawberry-blonde hair, long past her shoulders with her favorite red bow tied neatly on top.

And Evan… well he really did look like Gregory, minus a few years and still holding the tiniest bit of baby fat in his face.

They were so sweet and innocent, the sight of them caused Michael to let out his own gut-wrenching sob. Before either of them could recover and address the situation as a whole, let alone the unfamiliar body standing next to Michael’s clone, a voice caused him and Charlie to startle violently.

“Oh… hello, you two.”

It was full of nothing but kindness, which matched perfectly with the man it belonged to as his ghostly form phased into the room through a set of saloon doors opposite from where Mike and Charlie entered. The man smiled, and the pair felt their ethereal stomachs drop once more.

Henry Emily let a soft, heart-breaking sort of laugh, taking in the sight of kids he thought he’d lost long, long ago. “I missed you both so much…”

Chapter Text

The ticking clock breaks the spell with every beat
Illusion or not you are safe for now so dream
So dream your dream

~Dream Your Dream by Tryhardninja~

Slowly, calculated, Charlie looked up from where she’d been hugging herself. This wasn’t a malicious or evil plot to replace them perpetrated by Afton, as Charlie had feared from the start.

No, this was clearly the loving and handmade work of Henry Emily.

Astonished, Charlie jumped from the floor. Letting a cry rip without grace from her voice box, she ran and found herself hitting her solid and strong father with an equally hearty embrace.

“Dad!” she managed to say, finally reunited. Charlie swayed with him in arm, face buried into the soft flannel on his chest as far as it would go. He was surprisingly stable for a ghost. This wasn’t a detail she would dwell on though, simply amazed that she'd found him after this long.

“I m-missed you s-so much…,” Charlie finally let herself sob out, feeling tension leave her system. The hug quietly begged for Henry not to let go again.

Little did she know, he never ceased clinging to her, even after all these years. If it wasn’t for the real spirit of his daughter embracing him now, Henry would be going through the daily tuning of the Charlie-bots behind the glass.

“Charlie…,” Henry murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. This wasn’t a machine hugging him—this was Charlotte, the child he’d been holding onto in his heart since the day she’d been ripped away from the world. “My strong, brave daughter… I’m so proud of you, sweetheart. I love you so, so much.”

“Uncle… Henry?” Michael’s voice was plaintive, still unsure if the man who’d basically stepped in as a surrogate father when his own failed was really here. The older ghost looked at Mike then, his smile crinkling into laugh lines at edges of his eyes, and Michael had no more doubts.

Henry held out an arm, still clinging to Charlie with the other, and Mike ran into his embrace without hesitation. Just as Charlie was no longer “the Puppet”, Michael was no longer “Foxy.” They were simply three souls who’d finally reunited after far too long—a father, his daughter, and his nephew.

And as far as Henry was concerned, he’d never let them go again.

Charlie wasn’t so distracted that she’d forgotten about Michael. Squeezing an arm around his shoulders, they packed in close like peas inside their pods.

It was like every sensation Charlie had missed returned to her dull, stuffing-clad body in that moment. Long-gone was the numbness in fabric skin that evaded touch. The smell of her father’s laundry detergent clung freshly to his shirt, the familiar scent of cigarettes so stale it would only be barely noticeable if it weren’t for the scent being a staple of the 80’s Henry still carried into his later years. Charlie’s face never left the front of his shirt, positive she could feel tears there as she sobbed out in relief.

Was it over?

She felt heavy in both Henry and Michael’s arms, lightweight and anchored like a hot air balloon. The nightmare both her and Mike had endured felt so far away in Henry’s hold, and Charlie managed to choke out a normal sounding:

“I love you, too.”

Though she knew, as most smarts kids often did, that good things never lasted. As she remembered the frightened child and his ursine protector in the Pizzaplex above, her nerves returned.

The men felt her sudden tension and at first they simply held on tighter, assuming Charlie was just as overwhelmed as they were.

“Honey, it’s alright,” Henry soothed in his calm, measured voice, rubbing her spindly back. “You’re safe here for now—”

Michael let out a gasp, pulling away as he came to the same realization as his friend. With eyes wide in fear for those upstairs, he stuttered: “Gregory… a-and Freddy, we… I left them—”

“They should be alright on their own for a little bit—they’re surprisingly resilient, aren’t they? “ Henry responded, and upon Michael’s questioning gaze he added: “Cassidy filled us in. Well, all the details she knew, at least.” He let out a soft chuckle, his lack of dire concern with the whole situation infectious enough to quell Michael’s rising panic.

“I promise I’ll let you get back to them soon; don’t worry.” Henry was still smiling, though the light in his eyes had faded slightly into a sort of regretful desperation. “But, please… Let me be a little greedy with keeping your attention to myself, just for a bit.”

He’d let them go if they must, of course, but the best he could hope for was just a few minutes with some of his lost children.

“Dad…,” Charlie began, holding onto breath she didn’t register had truly been there until she let it go.

She bunched the fabric of Michael’s coat in her hand. Swiftly, she pulled him back into the hug. Her dad was right; they could stand to wait. They’d taken Chica down here with them, and even if she somehow still had power there was no way she’d make it back up top for quite a while. There were recharge stations everywhere in the main Pizzaplex, and Freddy was well aware of the immense battery drain this time around. They would be fine. She had faith.

“I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you sooner, Dad. I…I wanted to tell you to stop beating yourself up for what happened,” Charlie begged. It hurt her every day in those early years to see Henry enter the diner, looking upon the Puppet with a mournful glare as if asking where the security bot was when Charlie needed them… Only to see him make the same conclusions every time, and just blaming himself instead.

“I can’t believe it… My dad’s so talented, he can make robots from beyond the grave,” Charlie chuckled in a macabre fashion, wiping warm, ectoplasmic tears away again, this time on Michael’s shoulder.

“Ah, well… most of these were made a little before that,” Henry admitted with his own slightly embarrassed laugh, choosing to ignore Charlie’s earlier comment.

It would always be his fault that he wasn’t there to save his daughter—that was the core of being a father after all, to make sure your children are healthy, happy, and safe. In one terrible night, he’d managed to fail at all three. Henry reached up with one hand to rub the back of his neck, gaze shifting past the kids to the bodies in the cabinets.

“I’m sorry you ran across them like this—I’d hoped to find you first so I could ease you into the reveal, but I didn’t expect you to take the back way down here…” He tilted his head questioningly, soft grayish-blue eyes again focused on the pair in front of him. “How did you get here anyway?”

“Uh… the trash compactor,” Michael admitted sheepishly, to which Henry gasped in response. Mike could see his uncle gearing up for a well-intentioned but ironic lesson in safety, so he quickly clarified. “I-It was a last resort! Kind of… I’m not sure how much Cas was able to say about what’s happening upstairs, but the animatronics are going crazy—trying to capture Gregory, the boy we’ve been looking after. We figured the best way to stop them was to decommission them, so we… pushed Chica in the trash compactor.”

The fox clenched his sharp teeth at the memory of her mangled body that he landed on top of. “She pulled Charlie down the garbage chute, so I jumped in after.”

“Reckless as ever, Mike,” Henry said with a large sigh, though he patted the animatronic’s shoulder good-naturedly. “But I’m glad to see you two still looking out for each other.”

Charlie bumped into Michael amiably, her tears well on the way to drying as she listened to him and Henry talk. Now this was the morale boost she needed: a long overdue reunion with her father.

“Are you kidding me?” Charlie chimed in, needing to give Mike credit where it was due for keeping her fragile vessel in working condition through the years. “I'd be double-dead if it weren't for Michael!”

Charlie couldn't help but peek behind her dad, curiously looking on at the hermetically sealed cabinets of his creations.

“Seriously, Dad—how on earth did you get anything to look this human?” she asked in awe, somewhat distracted now as her brain thought of the endless possibilities Henry’s genius may provide from then on. She chalked up their uncanny human likeness to her father’s endless creative ingenuity. The second half of a team that, in the long run, had been responsible for all they saw around them now.

“They’re something else, huh?” Henry asked, slipping an arm around Charlie’s shoulders to gaze at the replicas as well. He wasn’t bragging—he never bragged about his mechanical accomplishments, content to just build in his quiet workshop and share his gifts with the world once they were ready. “It took so long to get these androids to where they are now—honestly, I don’t even remember most of the design process. It was… kind of a blur.”

A blur full of anguish and pain, furiously scrapping design after design, writing and wiring until his fingers went numb. And even then he didn’t stop—when his former friend and business partner went down the path of immortal life, Henry strove to create vessels that would suit their families after their death. What was done was done; the past couldn’t be changed, so all Henry had to work towards was making a place for his daughter to return to if she so desired.

As she’d gotten older, he simply created a new body to match what he thought she’d look like, in a sense giving her the opportunity to “grow up” that she’d never get to do otherwise. Then, he decided to create vessels for the Afton children as well, working from youngest to oldest. Michael was the hardest, for Henry knew how the boy felt about his looks… and it was near-impossible to lovingly craft the face of his child’s killer with the same compassionate hands he used to make the others. But Henry pushed through and managed to finish all the bodies in his roster before setting the faux diner on fire in a last-ditch effort to rid the world of William.

The Emily patriarch regaled this story to Charlie and Michael, though he left out some of the more personal details. They listened with rapt interest, in awe at not only his technical prowess but the dedication to putting his family back together even after all this time.

“So… these were here during my last shift?” Michael asked, gazing upon the peaceful faces of his siblings. Foxy’s claw was clenched at his side, an ethereal frown pinching his brow. “How the hell did you keep these from me? I-I’m not upset, just… shocked.”

“Michael…” Henry placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “I made the franchise you bought an exact replica of the original diner from the 80s. That included the safe room hidden from the blueprints.” He gave a little shrug. “Since no one but the contractors with sworn NDAs knew it existed, it wasn’t hard to add a few extra details—like a way to preserve the robots from, say, a fire.”

The reason for keeping these bots in the diner was multi-tiered. Henry had a plan, but there were a few outstanding factors he hadn’t been able to lock down at first, a huge one being what sort of state his nephew would be in when he found him again. For all Henry knew, Mike could’ve been possessing an animatronic just like all the others. Come to find out the eldest Afton still had his original body, though to describe it as a “walking corpse” would be generous. If things went south and somehow Michael and the others’ souls still lingered on, Henry hoped to offer them a chance at the life they’d lost far too young—even if it was akin to playing dress-up in robotic skin.

Mike glanced side-long at his uncle with his uncovered eye, before his body sagged like some great weight had been lifted. Though Henry might’ve given himself to the same flames that consumed Michael’s failed body, at least he thought to preserve what turned out to be his most amazing life’s work.

As Henry regaled them with the more technical aspects of creating his masterpieces, Charlie walked over to the storage cabinets and gazed upon versions of herself she never thought would experience the light of day. She was happy to see what Henry thought she’d eventually grow into. Her face matured, sharpening ever so slightly at the jaw and cheek. She'd been fitted  with long hair, likely in the event she got bored with the style and wanted a trim. It was easy to tell she was a young adult here, around the same ripe early-twenties when Michael’s body stopped growing.

Charlie reached out and pressed a button, opening the sealed door with a soft hiss and ghost of cold air that swirled around Puppet’s long legs. She grasped “her” arm, holding its dead weight up to get a feel for it. After pressing a finger into the skin, Charlie was impressed to even see the indication of veins beneath the surface.

The thought of how long these must’ve taken made her... sad, almost. She was happy that Henry had a hobby after everyone left him, but it seemed like a pastime made to torture himself more than anything else.

With her uncanny ability to move souls around at will, Charlie could easily slip into this form. Just to see what it was like...

As Michael listened to Henry, Charlie decided to sit on the ground as to not damage Puppet—the kindest robot she’d ever known. Trying to take care of the lanky, stuffed animatronic was the least she could do after years of faithful protection.

Then it was easy—like walking through a door and past a curtain. When she next opened her eyes, Charlie was staring down at the crumpled, powered-down Marionette for the first time in forty years. Silently, she flexed her hands in an experimental fashion. The false skin went taut where real muscles would contract, wires and circuitry underneath thrumming to life under Charlie’s direction.

It felt so real. She took a moment of quiet contemplation before obtaining the others’ attention with a wave.

“This is pretty weird! I love it!” Charlie said enthusiastically, feeling somewhat conflicted upon seeing the Puppet in a limp pile on the ground.

Henry’s hands flew to his mouth to stifle a delirious shout. Not only had Charlie approved of his creations, but she’d already folded into one like a glove. The sight of the android moving, awake and alive with its pre-destined soul, was nearly too much for Henry to bear in the best sort of way.

“Oh, Charlie… look at you!” he managed to stutter out. Decades of hard, laborious work had finally culminated to this very moment. Slowly, afraid that this was just another dream-turned nightmare he was about to wake from screaming, Henry walked towards his daughter. He reached out hesitantly to grasp her hand, turning it over in his own and letting out a sobbing sort of laugh. “My girl’s so grown up now…”

Charlie bent slightly at the knees, experimenting with jumping. When all went well and no screws came loose, she walked out of the case and into the room, careful not to step on the Puppet as Henry grasped her hand to help. Getting used to the mechanics almost felt like learning the controls of a video game. Every twitch and movement seemed to move something. Soon, Charlie was squeezing Henry's hand vigorously, laughing as she glanced down herself.

“This is—I have no words!” Overjoyed beyond belief, Charlie had been shocked into momentary silence. That didn’t stop her from leaning up, needing to prop herself on the tips of her toes to deliver a grateful kiss to Henry's cheek.

“Thanks for never giving up on us, Dad...,” she murmured, arms slipping around his neck in a tight, appreciative hug.

“I couldn’t,” Henry replied simply, as if those two words explained everything. “Not after I realized you were still here… you were so close, but just out of reach. I couldn’t do anything to help you in the moment, no matter what I tried, but I… I also couldn’t just sit there and do nothing.”

He caught sight of Michael moving back to the Afton cabinet out of the corner of his eye. “And of course, when I realized all of you were still lingering, I had to make vessels for everyone.”

“This is just—absolutely astounding, Uncle Henry!” Michael exclaimed in fascination. Not only was the concept of creating android vessels for lost human souls a wild concept in itself, but the technical marvel of it all added a whole level of personal interest.

“I thought you’d get a kick out of these,” Henry laughed, walking over to clap his nephew on the metallic shoulder. “I wouldn’t suggest taking these ones apart, but I’d be happy to show you all my blueprints so you can tinker with your own sometime.”

“Really?!” Mike’s voice had reverted to that of childlike wonder, akin to a kid in a chocolate factory set to inherit everything he always wanted. “I’d love that!”

A pregnant pause ensued, before Michael added in a softer tone: “You know… once this is all over.”

Unfortunately, there wasn’t time to mess around with lifelike robots so long as William still walked the Pizzaplex.

Charlie had been pulled back to reality with Michael’s words. As long as William could still cast shade over the world, none of them were safe. Not her, not Gregory—even whichever ghosts still remained could be in danger, let alone the potential new souls that’d gone missing in the Pizzaplex. Who knew what terrible afflictions William had planned in the long run?

“He’s right…,” Charlie agreed, carefully bending at the waist to retrieve her marionette friend. The soft material of the Daycare attendant’s borrowed legs clashed with her old, yellowed stripes. No wonder Gregory had been scared of her when they first met. While Charlie thought it added some charm to the old, robotic toy, there was no doubt the Puppet looked rough.

“The next time you see us, we’ll have William,” she assured Henry, hoping whatever highly secretive plan they had lined up would be enough. After they took care of the nasty old rabbit, then they’d be free.

It made Charlie think for a moment. Their spirits couldn’t rest until William was gone, but… what happened to them after? Would they too be swept down a river towards some semblance of an afterlife?

As Charlie looked into the cracked, plastic mask of the Puppet, all she was met with was stoic uncertainty.

“I don’t doubt it,” Henry said with a soft, sad smile. He looked to Michael again, gesturing to his body behind the glass. “You know, these may not look it, but they’re still animatronics at their core—they can kick some serious butt if you put your minds to it.” There was a twinkle in his eyes now as he chuckled. “You wouldn’t have that fancy pirate hook, but you’d still be able to protect your friends in this vessel if you were tired of Foxy’s.”

Michael thought for a moment, staring hard at his “body.” It looked so peaceful—so non-threatening, especially compared to Foxy’s claws, hook, and teeth. Even so, he had no doubt in Henry’s claims. Besides, he’d had too many close calls with this hook, and his peg leg was starting to drive him insane.

“Yeah… yeah, I’d like to switch over,” Michael agreed with a slow nod. “I have a new appreciation for Foxy after this whole experience, but I think it’s time to move on.”

He glanced at Charlie, offering a hand. It was so weird to see her looking like herself again, holding the limp Puppet as nothing more than a toy. “A little help, Charlie? I don’t know if I can get out on my own now that you gave me a Gift…” 

“For sure.” The girl was already on the move, knowing Mike would need her help to move from one vessel to the other.

Carefully, she placed Puppet on the ground to lean against the open cabinet door before coming to Michael’s side. She would miss this form of his a little, she had to admit. Perhaps it was because this Glamrock design seemed more inspired by her friend than the other Foxy iterations. She looked at the sleeping face of Michael’s automaton as he unlocked the door. Where he would see his murderous father’s face, Charlie only associated such features with her best friend.

She was suddenly filled with a sense of hope and excitement. Together, they could do normal things again just like they used to. All they had to do was survive the weekend.

Holding onto Foxy’s articulate hand, Charlie pulled Michael from the machine in seconds. Under her guidance, his soul was gently placed into the hyper-realistic body, Charlie’s grip lingering on the taller boy’s shoulders as she delicately shook him awake.

Charlie was surprised to be able to feel the soft cotton on his shirt. Though it was somewhat muted, she had some semblance of touch for the first time in decades. She stepped back to allow Michael room to move once he was able.

Muted blue eyes blinked to life as Michael settled into his new body. In a way, it was weirder than when he’d been attached to Foxy—the sensation of his soul lacing through wires and mechanical parts was the same, but the shape it formed to was so familiar this time. Yes, he’d technically had a body until fairly recently in the grand scheme of things, but it hadn’t felt like his for many, many years.

Carefully, Michael flexed his fingers and turned his head, getting used to the joints that moved just as smoothly as one would expect a human’s to. A few cautious steps later and Mike was scooping Charlie into another hug, much easier now that he didn’t have to worry about bulky metal and sharp appendages. It was so easy to hold her—to hold anyone, he realized as Henry slipped himself into their embrace as well. They fit together like people should, and it was a long while before Michael was able to let go.

“Thanks, Uncle Henry,” he said with a grin, pulling a piece of shaggy hair in front of his face to examine it. The smile tugging at his cheeks felt like muscle, not just mechanical joints. Henry Emily was undoubtedly a master at his craft.

“No need to thank me,” Henry was quick to say, though he relented with palms up when the others looked at him. “…But you’re welcome. I’d do anything for you kids.”

Michael’s smile widened at this as he looked back to the cabinet where his “siblings” rested peacefully. His eyes fell on the unknown body and he was hit with a strange sense of… familiarity?

The only thing was, Mike was certain he’d never seen this kind-faced man in his life. It certainly wasn’t William, that’s for damn sure—which only led to more questions.

It felt nice to be hugged and not feel too awkward or lanky for it. Charlie fit against the chests of her father and best friend easily with this new shape, happily extending another squeeze of gratitude before watching Michael step back examine the rest of the animatronics.

A man that Charlie hadn’t even noticed was built into their little entourage. Cocking her head curiously to the side, she came up to the stranger and unlocked the cabinet to examine him closer with a questioning gaze.

“Uh… Is this a friend of yours, Dad?” Charlie asked. There were undoubtedly many people Henry met after her passing, though the fact that he’d go to such lengths of building an android body for this unfamiliar man led to a plethora of questions that Charlie wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to know the answers to.

Or, maybe she was thinking too hard on this. Was this vessel meant for Henry? It’d still be odd considering it didn’t look at all like her father, and he never showed desire to change his appearance so drastically before. The fact that he was hardly different from when she’d last seen him alive save for the plethora of age lines and a few grey hairs was a testament to that.

“Ah, that one…” Henry trailed off, stepping up to the figure and shifting away a piece of ginger, slightly-curled bangs that had fallen over its closed eyes. “That one’s a special case. It… wasn’t actually modeled after a real person.”

There was a beat of silence as Michael and Charlie glanced between the mechanic and his creation with identical looks of confusion.

“So… it’s just a generic android?” Michael questioned, reaching out to touch the comfortable yellow sweater the body was clothed in, then running gentle fingertips over a cheekbone. “Tester model?”

“Mmm… not quite.” Henry shook his head. He let out a small sigh, unsure of how to explain this. “I know you all can take care of yourselves—you’ve made that abundantly clear over the years. My goal in creating these bodies was to give you a sense of normalcy, if you can call it that. A sense of closure, to return to a form you’d been missing. But even if you got yourselves back, you were still missing someone.”

A smile crossed his face, distant and not quite reaching his eyes.

“If there was any chance you’d get a second shot, I wanted you to have the father figure you truly deserve—and before you say anything, I’ve got my own reasons for not making a body for myself, so don’t even start.” Henry pressed on despite the others gearing up to argue. “Human fathers haven’t had great track records in your lives. So, I made this body in the hopes that, maybe someday, I could develop an AI capable of emulating human emotion enough to show some real, unequivocal compassion.”

He let out a huffing, defeated sort of laugh. “…Unfortunately, Sammy was always the one with the knack for coding, and I couldn’t very well ask for his help on this. And then, as you know, we tried and failed to catch William again; in doing that I got trapped in this building. So in the end… I suppose I made this body for nothing.”

A nonchalant shrug lifted his shoulders as he awaited the kids' reactions.

Charlie had gone through a plethora of quick-fire emotions listening to her father, confusion and overwhelming sadness being the most prominent. He still blamed himself so much for things far out of his control…

Then, the light behind Charlie’s now-expressive eyes grew as a wild, hare-brained idea crossed her mind.

“I wouldn’t say that, Pops…,” she remarked, pressing a hand over the middle of the powered-down robot. “I think we found it—the AI you’re looking for.”

Eagerly, she turned to Michael and tugged on his arm. “Mike—this is Freddy! No doubt about it!”

While it was painful to see that Henry may not want to come with on the next leg of their afterlife for fear of getting them hurt again with what he saw as his own selfish ideals, Charlie made it her mission to change his mind. If not tonight, then tomorrow. They had all of the time in the world now, she thought.

Turns out Henry had given them the best gift of all: hope. Though nothing was certain until William was gone for good, they were closer to that goal than ever before. Charlie felt it in her mechanical bones.

“Charlie, you’re brilliant!” Michael exclaimed. This body was perfect for Freddy’s gentle, paternal personality. He was sure the bear would go for it with a little convincing.

“Freddy? As in… Freddy Fazbear?” Henry raised a skeptical brow, crossing his arms over his chest. “Hate to burst your bubble, kiddo, but none of the Freddy’s I’ve seen over the years have an AI even remotely close to what I was picturing…”

“You haven’t met the Glamrock line!” Michael laughed, instantly turning Henry’s look of uncertainty into one of wary hopefulness. “These robots are wicked smart—intellectually and personality-wise.” He let out a snort, nudging Charlie for acknowledgement. “At this point, Freddy’s basically adopted the kid we’re trying to save—and Gregory calls Freddy ‘dad’ all the time.”

Charlie’s smile broadened at Michael’s jab. She nodded her head fervently, gently persuading her father. “Wait until you meet them. Gregory’s a fun kid—we’re trying to figure out a way so he doesn’t have to go back to his horrible foster home.”

The more Charlie said it aloud, the more it sounded like premeditated kidnapping. Still, she’d protest that idea—say it was a good cause, and at the end of the day, convince Freddy to allow them to download his mind into his brand-new persona!

Speaking of the dynamic duo, Charlie realized she and Mike were probably worrying the hell out of them both with all the basement chit-chat.

“We have a few more robots to get rid of. Once we’re done, we’ll start luring William down here,” she told Henry.

Which might not actually be that hard, Charlie thought. The murderer’s curiosity upon seeing their new bodies might entice him to follow them. After all, if Michael and Charlie both found a way to “revive” themselves, surely William would want to know the secret.

As if to signal their departure, Charlie fell forward again to hug her dad. It'd be the last hug for a while, so it had to count.

“I love you, Dad; I promise, we’ll see you again soon,” she assured him.

“You certainly will,” Henry murmured into her hair, holding her close. He’d almost forgotten what this felt like, hugging his daughter and feeling her arms around him as well.

Even after all this time, after his complete failure to protect her from the crazed man they’d all once considered family, Charlie still trusted him. She accepted the new vessel he’d made without question, and she couldn’t seem to get enough of his affection—which was certainly a mutual feeling.

“I’m not going anywhere until William is dealt with,” Henry continued, fingers scrunching up the back of Charlie’s shirt as the face of her murderer crossed his mind. “He and I need to have a serious talk.”

Michael couldn’t help but shiver at these words. Henry’s anger had been buried underneath pain and anguish, but Mike never doubted it was there. 

“Alright, if I don’t let you go now, I’m not going to for a week!” Henry laughed softly, bringing lightness to the now-tense atmosphere. He released Charlie and gave Michael a firm pat on the back, then looked towards the body that would soon be Freddy’s. “I’m going to stay here and fiddle around with this thing a bit—now that I know it’s actually getting some use, I need to make sure everything’s working correctly!”

He pointed towards the door he’d entered from. “It’s not too hard to find the exit—the diner’s through there, and you know the layout, Mike. After you get out of the front doors, just take a right and follow the path. It's a bit of a walk, but you'll get up top eventually. Ah, and just so you know, the others like to spend their time in the party rooms; you might run into them.”

He gave the pair one last smile full of pure, affectionate relief. “I love you both, and I’ll see you again very soon.”

After just being able to see Henry for the first time in decades, Charlie’s mechanical heart was filled. It was hard to imagine closure after so long; she and the rest of the ghosts had nearly lost hope. After all their hard work, they’d finally be able to punish William. The way the police could never pin him, or how he’d never once been ostracized from their community even after his own mysterious disappearance had made the lingering bitter and angry. Now they could free themselves from these emotional chains and begin a new chapter in their afterlives.

Charlie began to walk with Michael, imparting one last wave as she mouthed a thank you Henry's way. She had to force her feet to move, lest she be inclined to stay with her father down in the abyss.

As they started down the hall, Charlie blinked as his last words hit her. She turned her head to Mike, asking him fretfully: “Who do you think he meant by the others?”

In one of the dark rooms ahead, mechanical whirring had begun. The sliding and scraping sounds of parts that didn’t quite fit together echoed down the rusty, dank hallway.

“Well, we know Cassidy’s down here at least,” Mike answered, looking around as they walked. Despite the overall feeling of safety lingering in his soul after their encounter with Henry, he still couldn’t help but feel like something was wrong. As was habit, he just chalked this up to the ever-oppressive threat of William. “I’m guessing some of the other kids stayed as well? Maybe… maybe even—”

Michael’s hesitant musing cut off with a sharp gasp as he heard the metallic scraping. That sound in itself wasn’t cause for concern; they were in the basement of a Pizzeria filled with animatronics. Hell, they were technically animatronics, albeit far more advanced in terms of realism than anything they’d encountered before.

But that loping, sliding gait, as if whatever made that noise was trying to stand on legs that weren’t put together correctly…

Michael froze in his tracks. It felt more natural to simulate breathing in this new body, and because of this he soon began to do the equivalent of hyperventilate. He let out a low groan of abject terror, a faint curse escaping from his lips as he stared in the direction of approaching metal.

“No fucking way…”

“What’s wrong?” Charlie asked, peering into the shadows the best she could. At the sight of a wretched and malformed hand grasping and opening the door before them, she let out a quick gasp.

Well. That’s… something, alright.

An endoskeleton who seemed to be bulked up with ropes of muscle-like tubing peered out from behind the door, clinking and clattering as it beheld the two people before them. It was a clown—one with a lazy eye behind a charred, double-bisected mask and several vestigial parts hanging off of it.

“MIKEY!” The beast spoke in a grating and distorted fashion, as if multiple failing voice boxes tried to work in tandem.

As the door was violently thrown off its hinges, the unknown creature advanced on them. Charlie stood between Michael and the thing, offering a small modicum of protection from its focus.

It wasn’t completely soulless, she could tell. Like parts of someone were stuck to it. Or parts of many, many people, all melded together in a melted pile of ethereal goo.

“NEW… FRIEND…” Even as the beast acknowledged Charlie, it craned its body to look at the trembling man behind her, the leering smile of its mask seeming to stretch impossibly wider. "HI, M-MIKE. LONG TI-I-IME, NO SEE..."

Chapter Text

I'm unstoppable, obstacles are impossible
I don't know what you're bound to do
But I'm going to hunt you down!

Maybe I'm different, I never fit in
Don't get it twisted, you're stuck with a misfit
Don't you doubt, I'll rip your heart right out!
Don't get it twisted, you're stuck with a misfit

~Misfit by Rockit Music~

“Oh shit oh shit oh SHIT— ”

Michael’s frightened chanting seemed like it would never end. He was absolutely scared shitless.

Never again did he think he’d encounter the creature that took over his body for the better part of a week. He knew Ennard wasn’t dead; it simply got tired of toting around a rotting sack of meat and evacuated itself into the sewers, leaving Michael a hollowed-out husk of a man—literally and figuratively. The creature had been lured to Henry's faux diner like the rest of the outcast animatronics, and Mike thought after sending Ennard up in flames that'd be the end of it. To see this thing now, looming over Charlie’s shoulder and just as terrifying as it’d looked through that dirty, cracked window of the Scooping Room was almost too much for Michael’s strained psyche to bear.

Wait—Charlie!

Suddenly, she and Mike were no longer androids—they were squishy humans with very easy-to-remove insides, and Michael knew with every fiber of his being that Ennard was about to scoop his best friend too if he didn’t do something about it.

“You get the FUCK away from us!” Michael hissed, grabbing Charlie by the arm and pulling her behind him. He stared into that horrific clown mask, trying to control his trembling. He couldn’t afford to look weak in front of this thing ever again.

Charlie watched as Ennard raised an asymmetrical hand. It looked as if they wanted to reach out and touch her. Momentarily, Charlie was inclined to let them. Her own faux-fleshy mitt rose to meet the tangle of wires, though it would never make contact—she flinched slightly as Michael quickly shoved her protectively around his back.

“ENNARD… S… SORRY… MIKE…,” the amalgamation attempted to say. Their vocal fry and high feedback had only become worse by the year. Ennard ceased their advancement, yet those paralyzing and buggy eyes still stared unflinchingly at Michael.

It was hard to tell what thoughts were behind that smiling mask. The endoskeleton’s expression was similar to Puppet’s, unreadable and cryptic. Though every now and then, a ripple of controlled flexing would occur, the four panels on their face recalibrating while in thought.

“WE WANT TO—O HELP… MIKE IS FRIEND…”

Charlie held fast to Michael’s shirt, peering around in an alarmed way.

“Michael, please—what the hell’s going on?!” she demanded to know, watching as the unstable animatronic twitch and spasm before them. In her hazy memories Charlie had only seen glimpses of the amalgamation, always twisted in some new configuration as it slunk through the vents. She’d never had the opportunity to witness them standing in all their glory.

“FRIEND?!” Michael’s voice shrieked in a fever pitch, causing Charlie and Ennard to flinch away from him in unison. The man tried to settle, taking a few deep, unneeded breaths.

“You sure have a funny way of showing ‘friendship,’ buddy…,” Michael snapped, his tone still rife with anxiety but not nearly as loud. He refused to look away as he answered Charlie’s question, though he reached one arm behind to pat her side, as if reassuring himself that she was still free of any gaping wounds.

“Ennard is clearly very fucking confused,” he said, not liking the way the thing perked up as Michael spoke its name. Addressing the creature directly, Mike continued with narrowed eyes and a voice dripping with scathing hurt and anger. “Forgive me for not trusting you implicitly—the last time I did that, you ripped my insides out and wore my body as a meat suit for days on end. I’m not sure if you realized, but that was not a fun time for me!”

Hopefully Charlie would connect the dots and realize how exactly Michael knew this sentient mass of wires without him having to go into more detail.

Ennard scrunched up their tendril-like body. They wanted to appear smaller, more docile to him. Though it didn’t seem to work as Michael had only grown in not only fear, but now strife and rage.

As usual for one with such an amalgamated personality, Ennard was torn on what to do. They wanted to lift Mikey up, squeeze him until a few ribs cracked. When he would be in too much pain to move, then they'd sit the old-but-young-looking technician down and tell him how sorry they were.

Only… that would probably hurt him. Again. Ennard seemed to vibrate as they went through a myriad of solutions.

“WE KNOW… SHORTCUT… RABBIT MAN’S… HOUSE,” they growled in a strange, low tone.

Charlie was uncomfortable with Ennard and their familiarity from living inside of her best friend—the one who’s body they destroyed simply for a place to hide. She was just as sickened in this moment as when she’d drawn those lines for the first time shortly before the fire in Henry’s faux diner. It explained many things in Michael’s later life, and Charlie hadn’t even been given the chance to help Mike process before the flames began licking at their heels.

Her hand fisted into Michael’s shirt, unwilling to allow him to protect her when it was clear Ennard was more interested in him.

“That’s okay, Ennard!” she said, attempting to use a honey sweet tone to get past the hulking blob. “We have to stop and talk to our friends before finding William… So… You can totally go away now!”

With an incline of their head Ennard seemed to understand, but leaned in a bit closer to Michael in a sudden, jerking manner.

“WE WILL FOLLOW… MIKE WON’T SEE US… ACCORDING TO PLAN…,” they said, letting him know where they’d be hiding out in an effort to be… polite?

Who knew? Charlie only found it extra unnerving.

When Ennard reeled back its body shape changed, cracking and twisting now to cling to the walls. Ennard became more of a writhing mass of pipes and wires with a clown mask as it slipped into a vent directly above them. Charlie covered her mouth, wide-eyed as they disappeared from sight instantaneously.

“Goodie…,” she grunted after them, feeling somewhat queasy.

“And this is exactly why I didn’t want you and Gregory crawling in the vents yesterday!” Michael exclaimed, on an adrenaline high from the encounter despite the only thing close to hormones in his body being oil and grease. That thought in itself strangely worked to calm him down, lessening the dual feeling of wanting to throw up and sob uncontrollably at the same time.

Michael’s current body didn’t have any organs to remove—nor did Charlie’s. The only living humans to worry about were Vanessa and Gregory, neither of which deserved what Michael went through.

No one did… except for maybe William.

Looking towards the vent, Michael cupped his hands over his mouth and called out: “You’d better stay out of sight and do not go near any humans! If I see you so much as look at anyone funny, I’m going to rip you apart with my bare hands—I mean it!”

Where was this confidence a few years ago? Michael mused, then realized the circumstances were completely different. Besides, he knew this was really the fear talking. He’d surely devolve into a cowering mess if Ennard snuck up behind him for a friendly surprise, non-lethal or otherwise.

“You okay?” Michael asked, turning to Charlie and giving her a visual once-over. “They didn’t… touch you, did they?”

Charlie stood, resting a palm over her stomach subconsciously. Even if Ennard hadn’t made contact, the way they snaked around things didn't help the odd and foreign feeling of Charlie's skin crawling.

“No—I'm good. Are you good?” she pivoted back. Whatever use Ennard got from wearing Mike's skin no longer interested them, and now it seemed like they wanted to be nothing but chummy with their former victim. Slowly, Charlie urged Michael forward, guiding him by the elbow as they made their way to the surface once more.

She knew her friend had to go through hell to hate someone that way. Anyone who knew Michael understood that after he'd calmed down as a teenager, he only saved that deep-seated rage for things he absolutely despised. The sound of the vents above them denting and banging around loudly didn't exactly help soothing either of their nerves.

Michael hesitated a long time before answering, though he allowed Charlie to tug him along despite his mental block.

“I just… never thought I’d see that thing again,” he stuttered out eventually. “I-I mean, I helped trap them in the old diner, which is clearly why they’re still here, but… I did my damndest to avoid them like the plague during my few short days of employment.”

A full-body shiver wracked Mike’s frame and he wrapped his arms around himself, unintentionally pulling Charlie closer as she still held his elbow. He wasn’t going to complain about her comforting presence, though.

“I can’t believe they think of me as a friend…,” Michael groaned, eyes lifted high to the ceiling as the banging continued. “Oh for fuck’s sake—there’s no way we’re listening to that all night. We’re supposed to be stealthy when we get up top!”

He shouted these last words in the vain hope Ennard would get the hint and leave them alone, at least when they reached the surface. The last thing they needed was the creature popping out of a vent at the worst moment and blowing their cover…

“S... SORRY-Y-Y.” Ennard's distant voice echoed inside the vents, apparently willing to listen to Michael somewhat. It would be endearing were it not for the dreadful way Ennard had treated the man during their first encounter decades prior.

No, he didn't die. Though some would consider what Michael went through a fate worse than death. The pain and social stigma of being a literal rotting corpse was something Charlie didn't ever want to know.

“Try to just ignore it, Michael,” she murmured, giving his arm a squeeze. “We're both going to be okay; just keep moving...”

If not for the odd sense of nausea that came over her, Charlie might be finding it hard not to laugh with delirium. Not at Michael's fear, no—but at the strange obsession Ennard had for him, even after all this time.

Mike nodded, placing a hand on top of Charlie’s to return the squeeze. He remained silent as they wound their way through the basement, only startling once when Ennard popped its freaky clown mask out of a vent to say they were heading the wrong way. After that there were no further incidents, although they did pass a closed door that Charlie and Michael swore they heard more metallic clinking behind… But there was no more time to linger. They needed to get out of that place and rejoin Freddy and Gregory.

Plus, Michael couldn’t take any more surprises at the moment.

Eventually, they emerged in a large storage pantry behind the kitchen. They carefully made their way towards the elevator that would take them up to the main atrium, looking around for their friends as they did so.

“If they’re not here, they’re probably in that security office,” Michael murmured. “It’s the safest place we’ve found so far, and I’m sure Freddy’s beside himself and wants to keep Gregory extra safe. I just know he’s pissed at me for my little stunt with the compactor.” He laughed softly, a smile finally returning to his face. “He really is a perfect dad for that kid… Uncle Henry was thinking way ahead of his time, and he didn’t even know it.”

Charlie agreed, feeling comfortable enough to let Michael go once they reached the vibrant neon lights of the surface. Not that she was scared, Charlie lied to herself. Someone had to look out for Mike, and no one else was going to get him to move.

“Dude, we got so lucky! I'm just glad Dad has an overactive mind and a lot of spare time,” Charlie remarked, allowing a smile to pull at the corners of her lips at the serendipity of it all.

One of the good things about walking around as an adult human, she mused: Roxy and Moon would be less likely to attack. Their main targets were a bear, a child, a fox, and a puppet. No one would be paying that much attention to some normal-looking twenty-year-olds. They’d probably just be clocked as normal trespassers—which might be a problem in itself, but one they could worry about when it came up.

“Might be easier to sneak through the backrooms,” Charlie suggested, taking a left at an access door. The noticeable banging from inside the vents had slowly left them, but Charlie had a nagging suspicion that Ennard was still following. Maybe just in a more discreet way.

“Ah shit,” Charlie realized as they traversed the halls. “They're not going to recognize us! Plus, we left the Fazblaster with Henry...” She groaned, realizing this might take more time to convince Freddy and Gregory that the pair weren't simple tricks.

“Oh, damn it.” Michael echoed her sentiment, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. “If only we had some of those handy Fazwatches… then we could just call Freddy and fill him in.”

He glanced down at his wrist, examining it closely—in the comparatively brighter light of the main level, he could see all the finer details Henry had added, like subtle veins and the occasional freckle here and there where they’d smattered Michael’s arms. Honestly, he wondered if people would actually think they were real humans at first glance. Michael knew that he sure would as an outside observer.

But on the flip side, as Charlie pointed out Freddy and Gregory would likely be wary. As they approached one of the security office doors, Michael located the camera and waved with a cheery smile.

“Well, hopefully they’ll recognize our voices at least,” Michael said, lowering his hand into a fist poised to knock. He shot Charlie a slightly-nervous glance as he rapped on the metal. “Hey, Freddy and Gregory? You in there? It’s Mike and Charlie—we’re alright!”

First they only met with the sound of ventilation running, nothing to answer them but the sounds of the Pizzaplex around them. Then there was a very aggressive shout from a slightly-cracking child’s voice.

“What's the password?!”

“Password?” Charlie questioned, looking to Michael. “I-I don't remember a password...”

When the security door opened, Gregory was standing there, laughing with eyes closed. “There's no password, I was just—”

Upon opening those large hazel eyes, Gregory was shocked into silence. First he looked to Michael, then back to Charlie, then at Michael—alternating between the pair as he floundered for rational thought. Unable to come to a good conclusion, he called for Freddy with uncertainty in his voice.

“Daaad? Mike and Charlie are possessing people...”

Normally, Gregory would never snitch. But he drew the line at possession. While it was a cool concept, people needed their own bodies, and Gregory hated to think of what these unfortunate souls were going through with ghosts hitching a ride in their brains—if they even realized it was happening…

Blinking, Charlie waved her hands defensively. “No, we are not!”

“We aren't!” Michael insisted as Freddy quickly approached. “It's a long story, but these are our bodies! Kind of... they're still robots, but they were made for us, specifically. Pretty cool, huh?”

For a moment, Freddy simply stared at them. No, not them—his gaze was transfixed on Michael, eyes narrowed as he placed a protective hand on Gregory's shoulder. His facial recognition didn't activate for Charlie, but it sure did for “Michael”...

Or, as Freddy's database told him: William Afton.

However... the boy's voice was the same as the one in Freddy's head not 48 hours prior. The more he looked over this "human," the more Freddy realized he was much too young to be William—even if he'd been preserved at the age he'd gone missing, William still had a good few decades on the youthful face staring up at him. A face that was quickly falling with recognition as Freddy remained silent.

Michael knew that look all too well.

“No, I'm not—it's me, Freddy!” His tone was a bit desperate, needing the bear to believe he wasn't his father. “It's—”

“Michael! I am glad you and Charlie are back safe and sound!” Freddy finally piped up, removing his hand from Gregory's shoulder and holding his arms out for a hug instead. With a relieved sigh, Mike gladly fell into the embrace.

That standoff was nerve-wracking. Charlie let out simulated sigh, tucking herself in beside her old friend for the comfort of Freddy. As she placed her ear against the bear’s chest, Charlie could hear a beeping. It sounded like the volume had been turned down on a car alarm... After cohabiting inside the Puppet’s body for so long, it was easy for her to recognize it as the automated criminal database system, severely toned down from what it had been in the nineties.

Charlie bit her lip. Poor Michael...

At least Freddy had self-awareness. Coupled with his ability to think logically, he was quick to realize Mike was innocent in all of this.

Off to the side, in an odd change from his usual demeanor, Gregory was simply staring at them.

“Gregory? What's wrong?” Charlie asked upon pulling from Freddy's hug.

The boy shook his head. He’d been only interacting with animatronics this whole time, and hyper-realistic forms made Gregory uncertain. Yes—they were his friends. He knew that. But now they were human, and in a strange way foreign to him.

“I-I'm good on hugs for now!” he said, a strange anxiety building in his chest.

“Oh... hey, I'm sorry we couldn't give you a heads-up about this,” Michael apologized, taking a guess as to what the problem was. He might not be able to read Gregory's mind, but it was clear the kid was unnerved by their new bodies. It made sense, though—just from the small amount of information they knew of his backstory, the humans in Gregory's life hadn't been the best, especially older ones that were supposed to care for him. Michael could certainly relate to that.

Crouching down, Mike didn't offer a hug but simply rested his arms on his knees. Subconsciously, he was amazed at the lack of creaking in his joints, the movements fluid and smooth as if he were made of flesh and bone, not wire and metal. Now closer to Gregory's eye level and hopefully less intimidating, he gave the boy a grin. “I'm also sorry I don't have that cool pirate aesthetic going on anymore. I'm sure I can still find an eyepatch and hook around this place, though—the hook might be plastic, but hey... it's better than nothing, right?”

Mike and Charlie weren't scary in the slightest. So why did Gregory feel like he wanted to run away?

He looked at Michael, subconsciously embracing himself for comfort. There was nothing wrong exactly. He needed to get a damn grip. Unwilling to hurt his friend's feelings, Gregory closed the distance and gave Michael a hug.

“It's okay...,” he decided, squeezing Mike around the shoulders. “We can always shave a cool mohawk into your head.”

This made Charlie cover her mouth to hide her laughter, before glancing to Freddy. Lowering her hand, she tried to put his mind at ease with a smile. “Anyway—we’re supposedly still as strong as our old bodies. Don't worry about us not being able to defend ourselves.”

“That is good to know,” Freddy replied with audible relief. He could already tell the pair were happier in these forms than they'd been in the Fazbear Entertainment mascots, but it was worrying to see them looking so comparatively frail. Freddy tilted his head questioningly. “How exactly did you find these, might I ask?”

“Well... long story short: Charlie's dad,” Michael said, standing back up and ruffling Gregory's hair as he did so. Since the boy didn't flinch away, he knew they were on good terms once again. “His spirit’s lingering in the Pizzaplex like ours, waiting to get revenge on William. The trash chute ended up leading us to a sort of... hide-out, I guess? It's where he and the others are, anyway.”

Or were, Michael thought, his eyes briefly snapping to a vent covering in the floor. If he saw even the sliver of a wire poke through, he was going to stomp on it without abandon. He seemed to lose steam in his retelling as he focused on the vent, leaving Freddy and Gregory to look at Charlie for the missing information.

As if summoned by the thought alone, a thin wire wiggled through the slats, tantalizing and luring Michael closer.

“Yeah! We found my pops in the garbage chute,” Charlie continued, earning a timid laugh from Gregory the boy acclimated to their new appearances. “Speaking of others, we found—or, sorry, one of Michael's old, uh… co-workers found us.”

Charlie gestured to the grate on the floor, watching as Michael begun to stomp and kick at the various mechanical eyes that popped through the grating.

“MIKEY!” the high-frequency voice gushed, happy that the man was paying attention to them. It felt like bonding, after all; they didn't see Michael trying to stomp anyone else in the room! The little wires were too quick to be severely damaged by his shoe falls, and Gregory watched in utter confusion.

“Will you just. Fucking. Go—”

“Michael!” Freddy exclaimed, covering Gregory's ears even though it was already too late. Mike and the wires froze at his tone, both of them seeming a bit embarrassed. With a sigh, Freddy gently reminded: “There is a child in our presence; let us keep the language to a minimum when possible, please?”

Michael didn't feel the need to point out that he'd already heard Gregory curse multiple times, and the boy likewise. He flashed them an apologetic smile, then yelped and quickly stomped down as he felt a tendril wrap around his ankle. He actually managed to catch a wire under his shoe this time, though of course Ennard didn't seem bothered in the slightest. Still, it was a small victory to Michael, and he moved away from the vent with a satisfied smile.

“They were more of a bad, bad roommate,” Mike elaborated, his expression slipping into one more serious as the anxiety peeked through just a little bit. “For real though, please stay away from them—if you hear that voice, just ignore it. Also... stay out of the vents.”

Gregory had flinched when Freddy raised his voice. It was rare to hear him scold people in such a way. Maybe with Michael’s increased confidence, he’d been cursing with Charlie. Gregory had caught a glimpse of the thing harassing Mike from the vents and watched on with a supremely concerned gaze. It seemed that every time Michael came back after being separated from the group, he would return with some new oddity.

“What does it want...?” Gregory decided to ask. Charlie, who seemed to bear a naturally upturned smile in her true body, merely shrugged.

“That’s the fun part—we don’t know. I think they totally like Mikey, though,” she remarked, the light jab at Michael’s expense successfully making Gregory snicker.

“I’ll stay away from the vents,” Gregory agreed, his laugh cut short as a wired eyeball stuck out from the darkness to observe him and Charlie’s interaction curiously.

“Thank you,” Michael said, glaring at Charlie for her comment. “They don’t like me, they’re just... weirdly obsessed.” He let out a tired sigh, shoulders sinking low as the tension in his body released somewhat.

“Whatever. The only not-horrible thing about Ennard—that's what they call themselves, by the way—is that they apparently know a secret way to William's hideout.” Michael spared a glance at the vent, resisting the sudden, violent urge to kick that eyeball across the room. “So whenever we're ready, I guarantee they'll be ready to help.”

“Well, ah... thank you in advance, Ennard,” Freddy said, for once sounding a bit awkward. He didn't know what to make of this creature either, and despite Charlie's joking statements Michael clearly hated the thing with a passion. Although, Freddy had a feeling the story of why was best reserved for when Gregory wasn't listening.

“THE SHORTCUT… IS THROUGH THIS VENT…,” Ennard informed them, perhaps purposefully contradicting Michael’s request to Gregory.

“—Is there a faster way?” Charlie asked patiently. Ennard responded with a low-pitched whine, wiggling a few wires in protest.

“NOOOO… VENT… ONLY WAY…WE LEAVE THE VENT. MIKE AND FRIENDS GO… VENT.” It sounded like they were trying to work out a compromise.

When Gregory saw the clown mask press against the grate, he waved at it—experimentally checking if this Ennard was cool. In response, Ennard pinched their nose, producing a soft honking sound that made Gregory just a teensy bit less scared of them. Despite their weirdness and Michael’s obvious hatred of the thing, at least they weren’t trying to rip Gregory’s face off like most of the other robots he’d met so far.

...

...Oh hell no—this thing wasn't about to bond with Michael's new pseudo-brother! Swiftly stepping between Gregory and the vent, Mike looked down at the clown face. “We'll keep looking for another way, but if that's our only option... we'll consider it.”

There was a moment of silence, save for the shifting and clinking of metal as Ennard once again tried to grasp at Michael's ankles until the man moved away with a final, solid stomp that shook the floor. His eyes widened in surprise as he stared at his feet—it seemed Henry had been right about their hidden strength. A moment later, Freddy spoke up in a hesitant tone.

“So, is Chica... taken care of?” His face was set, though the regret in his eyes was clear. Freddy was so glad he hadn't gotten a glimpse of her mangled body as she went down the chute—he'd only caught Charlie's hand slipping down as well, prompted to look by her terrified scream and Michael's subsequent dash to her rescue.

“It’s done,” Charlie said, relaxing by setting herself down into an office chair. She wheeled around, carefully omitting the part where she had to finish Chica off inside the vents and on the ground below when the bird suddenly tried to tear her arm off in a fit of confused rage. It wouldn’t be right to say such a thing in front of Freddy.

“You all didn’t see anything up here?” she asked to make sure, and Gregory shook his head.

“Nope; we’ve been in here just waiting for you guys to come back,” he replied, glancing away from where Michael looked about ready to murder the robot under his feet. Ennard must have been a really bad roommate… A hopeful smile grew on Gregory’s face as he clasped his hands together. “That means we can take out Roxy now, right?”

“Right,” Freddy agreed with a nod. He just had to keep telling himself that his friends would be repaired soon. They'd be back to themselves, and hopefully their virus-induced amnesia would last just enough for them to not remember how Freddy, a small child, and various haunted animatronics decommissioned them until they could no longer move.

“So... where do you think Roxy would be?” Michael asked, striding up to a row of computer monitors and looking at the feeds. “Doesn't she have a raceway or something...?”

“Yes, and she spends most of her time there,” Freddy added, looking around until he found one camera feed pointed into the raceway. It was a view from high up in a corner so it was hard to make out many details, but if they looked close enough they could just barely see a twitching shape stalking the track. Freddy pointed to the figure with a blue claw. “There she is.”

Roxy seemed to be in dire straits, slapping herself periodically to hype herself up. She'd looked everywhere again and still couldn’t manage to find the kid. She was pacing for a bit as they watched her. Then, in a burst of anger she howled to the ceiling before kicking a defenseless wet floor bot.

Gregory pulled a face at Roxy’s behavior. Though certainly with them all together, they could take her on. In a way, Gregory had to have his friends get him motivated, as their encounters with the robots became increasingly more violent with each sighting.

“Okay, to Roxy Raceway! And if we have time afterwards, we’ll do some go-karting,” Gregory said with certainty, as if the last part was set in stone. 

“Hmm... I believe you will need to ride with a driver assist bot, superstar,” Freddy commented as the group shuffled for the door. When Gregory made a face at him, the bear clarified: “There is a height limit for single riders, and you fall a few inches short.”

“Wow... good to know there's some safety precautions around this place,” Michael muttered in a voice dripping with sarcasm. He rolled his eyes and shoved his hands in his pockets, a gesture that came naturally to him now that he had his new body.

To his mild relief, Ennard had scuttled off and could no longer be heard shifting underneath the floor, although Mike knew the creature wouldn't be far behind. Hell, maybe if they were lucky, Ennard would go after Roxy and try to use her outer suit for their own... That'd sure save them a lot of time and effort. Michael snickered to himself at the thought, and when Charlie raised an eyebrow he simply shook his head.

Upon seeing Mike clearly musing something over, Charlie mouthed a quick, “Okay weirdo,” in a playful manner. Her own feelings were becoming easier to read with her now expression-packed face.

Learning that he’d need to use an assist driver, Gregory stood tall and puffed out his chest.

“Are you calling me short?” he asked with the confidence of a fully grown man. Charlie belted out a laugh—not at him, but rather at the way he said it. So accusatory, not really hurt but almost as if he didn't believe them when they told him he couldn't drive by himself.

“Charlie! I can drive on my own, I swear!” he snapped defensively. Charlie's hand went out, able to rake through his hair better.

“No,” she replied with a smile on her face. No explanation; just no.

Though Gregory let out a short whine, this time he’d have to relent. The decision was unanimous by the family it seemed.

“Hey, don't worry about it,” Mike said amiably, patting the kid's back with a grin. “Talk to me in a few years, and I'll show you how to drive a real car—how's that?” He then paused in his tracks, blinking a few times as a realization hit him. “Oh... I guess I'm the only one around here that can legally drive, huh?”

“I do not think this is a conversation we need to be having right now,” Freddy said, though his chuckle showed no real annoyance with the whole thing. He simply didn't want the boys to get lost in another tangent, especially as Gregory seemed to perk up at the thought of driving something more than a mere racecar. Freddy smiled down at his son, relenting: “Alright, if we have time, you can do one lap around the track—but you must have Michael go with you, if not a driver assist bot.”

Was this the best idea?

...Probably not. But would the pair enjoy the experience? Unquestionably yes. Besides, Freddy trusted Michael in his new—but still robotic—vessel to protect Gregory, and there were safety precautions such as barriers set up to avoid harsh crashes.

Well... at least there used to be. Who knew what state the racetrack was in now that Roxy had been rampaging through it the past few nights? Freddy would have to make a final decision on whether his son could cruise around after they took care of the wolf.

The conversation reminded Charlie to ask when the kid's birthday was exactly. After all, when he turned 16 it was probably in his best interest to learn how to drive from Michael. In fact, all of them should probably learn to work a car at some point.

When Gregory brightened up at this, he seemed more energetic than before. Going to Michael's side, Gregory pulled at the hem of his shirt.

“We're totally going to kick their butts on the racetrack,” Gregory remarked with natural confidence. It awakened a healthy competitiveness in Charlie that she forgot existed. Moving hair from her face, she rolled her eyes.

“We'll see after we put Roxy to bed, dingus,” she quipped without malice, but rather to keep Gregory in this high spirit mood.

As they neared closer to the end game, she wanted to make sure that her little brother was going to be alright emotionally. Lord knew how much therapy this kid was going to need after all this was said and done. Pushing out of her chair, she went and waited for them all by the door, ready to embark on their next adventure.

“Heck yeah we will!” Michael readily agreed, holding out a hand for Gregory to high-five. Once this ritual was completed they followed Charlie, Freddy bringing up the rear so he could keep watch in front of and behind them.

“Stay close together,” the bear murmured, his parental instincts kicking in to the extreme at the sudden increase of danger. He knew no one wanted to part from the group, especially after their last experience, but he needed to say it all the same. Altogether, they stepped out of the security office and started for the raceway.

As they filed out into the Pizzaplex, Charlie grasped onto Gregory's hand to keep track of the boy more easily. He seemed even more distracted now. When Freddy insisted they wait back at the security room after their impromptu split, Gregory must have lost focus.

His hand slipped easily into her grip, amazed at how soft her skin was for a metal. Or maybe it was silicone? An extra-opaque ballistic gel? He looked from her towards Michael as they walked, and Gregory had questions.

“You guys have blood? Like, in you?” he wondered, as Charlie's hand felt warm to the touch.

Charlie raised a skeptical eyebrow, and being unsure of the real answer, volleyed the question right back. “I don't know; do you?”

This earned her a sarcastic no as they rolled into the main atrium once more.

On the other side of this long walk remained one person they seemed to have forgotten about the whole night. The only person capable of doing the late night shift had been doing her hourly rounds with a splitting headache.

Vanessa heard the telltale sign of an animatronic trying to sneak but failing to do so for the simple fact that they weigh hundreds of pounds, and that's going to make an impact with any sort of floor. Monty was still MIA, and now Chica was, too. Last she checked, Sun was still in the Daycare sitting under a floodlight, pouting from the fact that staff had tricked him into a dark room to let Moon out earlier that day. Nothing had happened, save for Moon getting a lecture at being dented and scratched, so Vanessa really didn't know what the guy was so freaked out about. That left only Roxy or Freddy as the culprit of who wandered the halls, and Vanessa had a suspicion of which one she was about to come face to face with.

“Freddy!” she shouted, rounding the corner and spotting the bright orange bear. “What the hell are you—”

She stopped, jaw slack as she took stock of the three people in front of him. There was that damn kid again—she knew he was real and not just a figment of her tired imagination!

But these others... they were new.

Vanessa raised her flashlight accusingly and shined it directly at them, shifting the light between the unfamiliar faces. “For god's sake, Freddy, where the hell do you keep picking up these people?! Who are you, and what are you doing here after hours?!”

Charlie raised her hand, shielding her now sensitive eyes from the light. Who does that? Shines a light into someone’s eyes before interrogating them? Charlie swallowed thickly upon realization of who stepped in their path. She felt Gregory's hands hug her waist, pressed into her like Vanessa threatened to take him away.

“She’s still trying to kidnap me, for sure!” he whisper-yelled in a frightened manner, potentially more scared of Vanessa than the murder-happy robots of the Pizzaplex. When the night guard demanded to know who they were, Charlie nudged Michael to follow her lead.

“Uh—what? You can't seriously be asking us that. Is she serious?” Charlie remarked, looking around to her friends as she finalized what she was going to say in her head. She already hated herself for sounding like such a spoiled brat, but it was a last-ditch effort. “Our dads' would be pretty upset knowing one of their employees was treating family like this!”

“Your dads?” Vanessa gave her a scathing look—clearly, this girl was just trying to lie her ass off. “Why the hell would I know who your dads are?”

“Charlie, please—” Michael held up a hand as Charlie opened her mouth to protest, then turned his attention to Vanessa. He wore a raised eyebrow look of offended contempt that only a certain brand of people could truly express, and Mike had learned it from the best. It made his skin crawl to look at someone like this, but that was nothing compared to the sick-to-the-stomach sensation he got from his next words. Amping his accent up to an even more pronounced Brighton lilt, he asked the guard: “Surely you recognize my face, don't you? My looks run in the family, so I've been told. As a security guard of Fazbear Entertainment, you must at least know who the important people are around here...”

“Why the hell would I recognize—oh.”

The realization of who she was looking at hit Vanessa like a truck. Though her hazy memory, she recalled some of the old training videos she'd watched waaaay back when she started working at a contracted company as a VR tester. They contained images of the Fazbear Entertainment founders, and now that she really looked at the man in front of her she knew exactly who he was—or who he was related to, at least.

“O-Oh my god, Mr... Mr. Afton, I-I'm so sorry! I didn't recognize you; I thought—” She frowned slightly. Hadn't the sole heir to the Afton line gone missing years ago? This twenty-something dude would have to be his son, then—grandson to the founder in her memory and appearing out of... where, exactly?

...It didn't really matter. What mattered was that an honest-to-god Afton was standing here in front of her, and Vanessa had already screamed at him and his guests. She cringed, waiting for the consequences. God, she hoped she wasn't about to be fired on the spot.

Charlie must’ve been a really bad liar or something. Everyone always seemed to pick her ruses apart easily. She cringed internally when Vanessa shot her a scathing look, but the dynamic quickly changed as Michael made that face. She could tell he was attempting to mimic his father with the dead-eyed frown he shot at her. It even made Charlie uncomfortable. Though, for sake of keeping up the façade, she placed what was meant to look like a placating hand on Mike's arm.

“She must not’ve known. Typical. Management's always sort of slow to get the word out.” Touching a hand to her chest in an attempt to seem more genuine, Charlie told Vanessa. “We're investigating this odd glitch in the latest operating system. Do you mind?”

As she spoke, Charlie pushed Gregory behind her, accidentally and subconsciously saying please do not ask about the child.

“N-No, I'm sorry, Ms. Emily,” Vanessa responded quickly, making the correct assumption that this must be an Emily, daughter of their current CEO. Sammy hadn’t ever mentioned having a kid, though… but Vanessa wasn't going to question it. As long as it meant keeping her job after this whole fiasco, she'd do anything they wanted. She was already on major thin ice as it was. 

“Please, explore all you'd like,” Vanessa continued, hanging her head in deferment as she gestured for the group to move on. She had many questions about this whole situation, such as why the hell they were here during night shift toting around Glamrock Freddy and—

That kid! He was walking behind Charlie, clinging to her like she was his lifeline, and Vanessa couldn't help herself. She had to know at least one thing.

“Uh, excuse me,” she called, and the group stopped in their tracks to turn to her. She looked from the boy to the heirs, asking in a small voice: “I'm sorry if this is a weird question, but do you... know this kid? I-It's just, he was running around unsupervised last night, so I was worried and trying find him so I could contact his guardians...”

“He's my cousin; can't you see the family resemblance?” Michael responded flatly, that dead-eyed stare back in full force. He clicked his tongue in annoyance, though what he was annoyed about was anyone's guess. “He simply got too excited to visit and ran off on his own last night. We've already had a discussion about it, and he won't do it again; isn't that right, Gregory?”

Michael raised an eyebrow at Gregory, who caught on quickly to the act. He averted his eyes from both him and Vanessa before uttering a quick: “Sorry, security guard lady.”

Because genuinely, it did hurt to even have to pretend to apologize to her.

“Vanessa,” Charlie corrected, patting his hair. “You know kids!”

She laughed, allowing Vanessa some mental leeway. While Charlie and Michael pulled the wool over her eyes, Charlie thought of a plan. Curiously, she brought up Vanessa's arm being inside of a sling.

“Odd that they’d make you work with an injured arm like that. Right, Mike?” Charlie remarked, wondering if they could minimize damage by just telling Vanessa to clock out. “If you're unwell, we’d rather you use sick leave than hurt yourself further while on the job...”

Charlie did her best to sound like those ancient video work-place safety videos she'd constantly hear William and Henry record as a child. Gregory had gone back to clinging onto Charlie, staring up to Vanessa and for a good moment believing they could potentially trick her. As long as that weird, creepy Vanny persona didn’t come out, he’d spare a bit of hope.

“Oh, this? It's just a little sprain!” Vanessa insisted. It was a bit more than that, so the doctor had said, and she'd be in a cast for a little while until everything refused into its proper place—but she couldn't afford to look weak in front of arguably the most important people in the company besides the CEO himself. “I appreciate your concern, but I'll be alright.”

Ness attempted a reassuring smile, though it came out as more of a nervous, slightly pained grimace. “There's just a few more hours until my shift ends—and besides, I'm the only night guard, so if I leave then there won't be any security here for your protection.”

Michael longed to tell her that she would be protecting them much more if she simply went home. However, he didn't want to push his luck. He was already tired of this façade, the internal turmoil of pretending to be “just like his father” making his head hurt.

Could he get headaches in this body? He certainly felt like one was coming on...

“Alright, well, we request that you keep to light activities to avoid further stress—we'd hate for you to get hurt on company time, now wouldn't we?” He flashed her a shark-like grin, all teeth and no room for argument. Vanessa nodded quickly, and with a swift turn on his heel Michael led the group away from her once again. This time, she was happy to let them go.

The group passed Vanessa by, watching her tremble just a bit from Michael's all too familiar and manipulative grin. Upon seeing her move from their sight, Charlie squeezed his arm.

“I'm really sorry you had to do that, but if we ever get out of here, please pursue an acting career,” she told him, trying to lighten his mood after what was likely a soul-crushing act. Gregory had in turn nudged Charlie, snickering.

“You should never act again. Why are you so bad at lying?” the kid asked her bluntly, causing Charlie to look down at her feet as they quickly stalked for the backrooms again.

“Look, I was a good kid,” Charlie said, implying her terrible deception skills were due to a more wholesome upbringing. Also, somewhat of a lie—she could tell Gregory didn't buy that either. She was just bad at hiding the truth, especially now that she had a real face again.

Michael snorted at this, and to Gregory he said: “You're not so bad yourself—you did a good job playing the innocent little kid!”

He laughed at this, nudging Gregory's shoulder playfully. Then he realized there was someone in the group who'd been uncharacteristically silent, and he turned to look over his shoulder at the animatronic with a concerned frown. “Hey, Freddy, are you alright?”

“Yes, I am fine,” the bear responded with a smile, and to Michael's relief it was genuine. Realizing the others' worry, he clarified: “I am just sorry I could not help in that situation. You all were wonderful, though—and for the record, Michael, I think you could have an acting career ahead of you if you so choose!”

“Ugh, as long as I don't have to play anything remotely close to a stuck-up as—butthole, then maybe I'll consider it,” Michael replied, thankful he'd caught his curse in time. He flashed Gregory a smile and ruffled his hair. “Now, let's get this thing done—I've got to ride one of those racecars with you before the night's over.”

Charlie was positive that's all he would be type-casted as. Either that or a bond-villain. She could see either avenue making him bored.

After receiving affectionate head pats from Michael, Gregory told his ursine dad: “You did great, don't even worry!”

He knew Freddy wanted to help, but felt stuck. It was probably close to physically impossible for him to not lie to anyone, so deeply ingrained was the notion of truth in his programming.

Curving around the corners and ducking through shadowed supply rooms, the Raceway was in sight. The darkness of the corridor made Gregory fish for his flashlight and illuminate the way for the group. Gregory grew more excited as the smell of motor grease and burnt rubber invaded his nose.

“Should we make a plan before going inside?” Charlie dared to ask, pulling Gregory from his good mood once realizing they never actually formulated a plan to take Roxy down.

“Definitely,” Mike agreed, settling into the shadows with everyone else. He stared around hopefully, but upon meeting nothing but dead silence, he asked: “So... any ideas?”

“We will need to keep Gregory out of her sight—more so than the others',” Freddy pointed out, instinctively gripping the boy's shoulder to keep him close. “Roxy is fast when she wants to be, and if we are not careful she could catch him easily. Unfortunately she cannot be lured with food like Chica, but there must be something else we can do... something to distract her so that we can sneak up when she least expects it.”

Freddy tried not to dwell on the fact that he'd likely be the one to physically incapacitate her. It would hurt him deeply, just like taking down his other friends, but it was all worth it to protect his new family.

Charlie began rubbing her temples in thought. When her gaze landed on the boys, she paused. She seemed to be working something out, tongue pressing against her cheek in an old, familiar gesture. Before Gregory could ask Charlie what she was thinking about, she hushed him with a wave and asked Freddy:

“Do you think Roxy can run faster than a go-kart? Or... Maybe we could rig a cart to be even faster. Then use it to avoid Roxy before one of us can... You know.”

There was something about having a human body again that made her more animated—likely because it felt good to be in something so close to her own skin. Gregory watched every nervous movement, finding Charlie heaps more relatable now whenever she spoke.

Freddy tilted his head, blinking as he accessed information about the top speed of the Roxy Raceway go-karts, as well as the top speed of Roxanne Wolf’s gait at full sprint.

“The racecars are designed to move a few miles per hour faster than Roxy at maximum speed,” he announced, eyes narrowing slightly as he tried to figure out Charlie's line of thought. “So you... wish to have her chase the go-kart?”

“Yeah... I mean, she's a hunter, right?” Michael postulated, shoving his hands in his pockets as he leaned against a nearby wall. “Maybe the movement will catch her eye, and as she's chasing it down we can, I don't know—throw something at her to knock her down, then Freddy and I can get her?”

But what would be heavy enough to knock over a half-ton robot? Michael was onto something, he just didn't have all the pieces yet.

“We could spill oil onto the track?” Gregory hypothesized, scratching the side of his head in thought. “Then hope she slips on it!”

He sincerely hoped the way they were discussing Roxy's eventual decommissioning hadn't been bugging Freddy too badly. In light of this Gregory decided to lean on his ursine dad, supporting him with a loose side hug. Charlie furrowed her brows and bit her tongue.

“I don't know. She's got good eyesight. She'll see the oil slick on the raceway...” Charlie didn't want to completely throw Gregory’s suggestion out, though. It was a good back-up. “We'll do that as a last ditch effort.”

“If you three would like to start the go-kart and set it off on the track, I can distract Roxy,” Freddy suggested. Though he loathed the thought of not being physically near them, it’s not like they were truly splitting up—they’d still be in the same room, just on different sides of it.

“The starting line for the track is in the far corner from where we are about to enter,” Freddy went on to explain. “I could keep Roxy's attention so she stays on the opposite side of the attraction, thus giving you all more time to work. There should be a special switch within the control panel of the race cars that will allow you to set them to ‘test mode’—flip this, and the cars will run the track with only a driver assist bot. Once Roxy is thoroughly distracted, I can… incapacitate her.”

Gregory nodded his confirmation. After looking around the group, he was the first to open the doors and peek into the attraction. Quickly, he opened his watch to inspect the security feeds, checking around the blind spots just outside the entrance. Once he begun to slip past the doors Charlie held it open, motioning for the others to quickly follow through. With Freddy distracting the wolf, the plan should go accordingly.

Then again, when was the first time that happened in the past day and a half? This group made a habit of having their carefully thought-out plans derailed by a specific brand of weirdness.

Charlie followed Mike and Gregory to assist in turning the switches off on the cart control panels. Currently she was despising how much harder it’d become to sneak around with a standard-shaped body, realizing as they crouched together low in a group that she was going to miss the benefits of being a marionette in some ways.

As the trio snuck around, Freddy made a beeline for Roxy. She didn’t notice him at first, twitching and sniffing the air while emitting snarls of anger, but his bright wave soon caught her attention. The look she gave him made Freddy want to simultaneously grovel for her forgiveness for harming their friends, and run away before the wolf took revenge into her own claws.

“Hello, Roxy,” the bear said calmly, pushing past his newfound emotions and coming to a stop just out of striking range should Roxy snap. They were standing on a bridge overlooking the racetrack, part of which ran directly underneath their feet.

Roxy, for one solid moment, seemed to give Freddy a knowing stare. She stood, fists clenched at her side while trying to stay brave. She was still infected—it showed in the way she spoke, voice box strained as she resisted the personality overwrites in her code.

“Why’d you do it, Fred?” she asked, completely unaware what was happening on the raceway.

She had a feeling she knew why Freddy was here. All of the forced confidence in the world wouldn't change her outcome... If Freddy hadn’t found and cornered her on the open bridge, she would’ve taken the time to look around for the child he protected so dearly. Though taking her eyes off the murderous bear could mean her life if she wasn't careful.

Freddy was an animal now, destroying every one of his friends under the influence of that child. Though her inner dialogue was clear, Roxy twitched, sparks flying from her as she spoke. Even the sides of her legs looked burned, as if she’d been running so fast she overworked the pistons.

For just a moment, Roxy seemed more like herself with the confidence of someone who’s the best and they know it. And then her expression shifted to one of poorly-hidden fear, not unlike the way Chica stared up at Freddy after he’d severed her arm. In a way, this was worse than if she'd just decided to outright attack him.

“You will not believe me, but I did it to protect everyone,” Freddy replied simply, answering everything and nothing at once. He kept his eyes locked on his bandmate. “I did it to make things right… In whatever way necessary.”

With clenched fists Roxy stepped forward, advancing angrily on the bear.

“You're right—” she growled at her once-beloved friend. “—I don't believe you!”

Lifting her knee high, Roxy's foot sprang forward aiming to connect to Freddy's chest in an attempt to knock him down. Freddy barely managed to dodge, jumping to the side just in time to avoid the impact. He let out a gasp of surprise as Roxy’s claws caught his arm, gouging deep dents in the metal. Freddy didn’t want to fight her, but he knew he’d have to keep this up as he waited for the telltale sound of a race car speeding down the track.

Roxy felt something in her as her own claws made contact to the metal, watching as little rows bunched up and sparks flew from the impact on Freddy's arm.

Perhaps she was the scariest. The thought rolled across her mind and Roxy garnered a sick satisfaction from it.

***

Meanwhile, on the other side of the track Michael was trying his best to get to the ‘test mode’ switch. To the group’s dismay, a thick plastic panel had been installed to prevent it accidentally getting flipped by curious kids. This panel could only be opened with a key, and due to its placement Mike and Charlie were hesitant to smash it and risk damaging the mechanics underneath with their unknown strength.

“For fuck’s sake, nothing can be easy around here, can it?!” Michael groaned. He’d been cursing like the pirate fox he connected so well with under his breath, until finally giving up on trying to pry the cover open with a frustrated huff.

It was hopeless to activate the automatic driver. Charlie didn't want to pry off the lock, as the box surrounding it was too close to the control panel. Unless they wanted to be shocked or ruin the cart, it was best not to mess with it.

“Someone's going to have to drive it,” she murmured, biting the inside of her lip in thought. Before she could say anything else, Gregory hopped in the front seat. “Huh? Gregory, wait—”

“Gregory!” Michael exclaimed, although the boy was already buckling himself in. A glance across the room showed Freddy now in a physical fight with Roxy, which caused Michael’s eyes to widen. They needed to move, and they needed to move now—there was no time to fight.

“Shit!” Mike hissed in panicked frustration as he hopped in the car behind Gregory. He shoved the boy forward to make room for himself in the driver assist seat, then buckled his own seatbelt and glanced at Charlie with an apologetic grimace. “Sorry, there’s no time—we’ve got to get Roxy before she takes down Freddy!”

As Gregory started the ignition and the car rumbled to life, Michael leaned forward to grip the sides of the car. Far from Freddy’s usual cold metal, his chest was warm pressed against Gregory’s back, adding the tiniest bit of comfort as Mike said in his ear: “Right is gas, left is brake—got it?”

“Don't talk, just go!” Charlie urged, trusting that as long as someone was going with Gregory, they’d be fine.

Gregory seemed to be working on autopilot, starting with the ignition and leaning back to comfortably fit himself against Michael. Maybe his silence was due in-part to seeing Freddy nearly get scratched open by Roxy's claws at the track ahead; all he knew was that he'd do whatever it took to save the bear and the rest of his friends along with him.

“Got it!” Gregory replied, smart enough to slowly accelerate as to not flood the engine. However, taking it easy was not his goal as the kart climbed quickly in MPH. They were approaching the bridge, seeing Roxy chase Freddy close to their side of the track. It was clear her goal was to either cut him to ribbons, or to push him from the bridge itself.

To Michael’s dismay, the familiar sound of a racing go-kart was simply background noise to the wolf hell-bent on tearing her bandmate to shreds. He and Gregory were almost at the bridge, and their window of opportunity grew smaller by the second. If they couldn’t get her attention soon, they’d need to drive all the way around the track… and Michael doubted Freddy could last that long by himself.

Oh, he’s going to kill me again for this…, Michael thought as he raised one hand to point at Gregory and screamed over the engine:

“ROXY! EYES ON THE REAL PRIZE, PUPPY!”

Roxy snapped towards the voice, her expression settling into focused frenzy as her gaze fell upon the boy she’d been commanded to catch. She tracked the speeding car, and Michael dared to hope that this might actually work—she was going to chase them, and once Freddy got his second wind the bear would be on her in a flash. Roxy’s knees bent in preparation to jump and Michael let out a deliriously triumphant shout—

—Which quickly devolved into a yell of terror as Roxy landed on the track in front of the car. There was no time to swerve and avoid impact so Michael curled himself around Gregory, trying to shield as much of the boy’s frail human body with his own as the car rattled towards the wolf at top speed.

Freddy could only watch in horror as his adoptive family barreled straight into Roxy, her arms outstretched as if to catch the car like it was nothing more than a toy.

There was the sickening crunch of metal crashing. The collision scratched the entirety of Roxy's body from the collarbone down to her knees, though it wasn’t enough to keep her down. Gregory screamed along with Michael, a sound filled with rage and terror—mostly rage from the fact that Roxy had actively been hunting everyone he cared about. He was done feeling like a victim in this evil plot to harvest the lives of children.

Even as their cart pushed her into an unfished portion of the track Roxy’s claws lunged furiously, trying to tear through Michael to get to Gregory. It was their lucky day that no serious scratches landed before Roxy was pinned to the wall, Mike having pulled Gregory from the kart only seconds from the grotesque crash.

Curled into his brother's arms, Gregory breathed hard from the adrenaline rush. Laying on the track, he assessed himself. When he found no major injuries, Gregory beamed with glee.

“I'm alive! We did it! Dad, Charlie—” Gregory shouted, attempting to turn in Michael's grip. “—please tell me you saw that!”

“Unfinished” was certainly one way to describe this portion of the track… Though “unstable” would be better, as the group quickly learned.

Michael’s systems barely had time to reset before he felt the ground crack beneath them. He was still holding Gregory tightly, arms clamped around him in a vice-grip as the physical aftershocks of the impact with the tarmac wracked his body. Luckily, Mike’s internal alert systems—he’d have to thank Henry profusely for including these—indicated that nothing major was damaged. He had a few scrapes that would be pretty gnarly on a human, but his false skin took the wounds with little issue.

However, Michael sensed this would soon change as the section of the track ranging from where he and Gregory lay to the wall Roxy was pinned against suddenly gave out. He, Gregory, Roxy, the car, and a whole bunch of rubble fell into the dark abyss of the employee tunnels beneath the raceway, leaving Freddy and Charlie to stare after them in frozen shock.

Chapter Text

Stay calm, stay calm
Every hair is on its end
That's fine, I'm fine
Feeling my adrenaline
That's fine, I'm fine

~Stay Calm by Griffinilla, Jeff Burgess~

Together, they impacted into the maintenance tunnels. Despite the tremendous fall Gregory avoided any broken bones, though nearly every piece of exposed skin that wasn't shielded by Michael's body felt bruised. In turn Mike oozed a crimson, synthetic blood—another odd detail that Henry chose to include, perhaps to enhance the realism of his work.

When Gregory opened his eyes again he spotted the go-kart, but failed to locate Roxy immediately. She’d been sandwiched between the car and the wall, so she should be lying in a crumpled heap amidst the rubble. A dark tingle of stunned fear raced up Gregory’s spine, shocking him into silence.

…That was until Roxy lifted the kart up as if it were nothing more than a blanket. She threw it, narrowly missing the boys. Gregory once again thought this might be his last moment as the wolf stalked over to them. Fingers pulled the torn fabric of Michael’s shirt; if Gregory was going down in this godforsaken Pizzaplex, the obvious choice was to cling to one of the truest friends he’d ever had while his life was snuffed out.

“Look at that… You’re going to die. No real family. No real friends, either. That must suck—” Roxy interrupted herself with her own maniacal laughter as she limped carefully towards the boys—

—until she was stopped by a thick metal cord that coiled tightly around her leg. She blinked, confused at the sudden intrusion on her work before she was pulled hard and fast. Whipped to the ground in a prone position, Roxy shrieked in both simulated pain and sudden fear.

“—WAIT! DON’T!” was all she could muster before being quickly dragged into the shadows. It was then that Gregory and Michael became audio witnesses to Roxy’s dismemberment. She shouted and pleaded until her voice box was carefully disconnected, large pieces of her thrown asunder for the dayshift guards to find later.

When the clown head emerged from around the corner, it stared right through the traumatized boys with abject obsession, voice low and crackling. “ACCORDING… TO PLAN… MIKEY…”

Michael let out a low, broken whine in response, slowly sitting up while clinging to Gregory with a grip that would certainly hurt if the boy hadn’t been just as shell-shocked. One of Michael’s hands clutched white-knuckled in Gregory’s hair, holding his head protectively against his chest. Mike’s other arm snaked around Gregory’s waist, synthetic blood leeching into Gregory’s shirt from a large gash tracing the android’s wrist to inner elbow. There was also a trickle of “blood” oozing down from the left corner of Michael’s mouth, but that seemed to be the worst of his injuries.

When Ennard simply watched them, swaying slightly but not making any move to come closer or attack, Michael managed to stutter out a hushed: “T-Thank… you…?”

Gregory couldn't speak. He wasn't sure if this interaction would make him love or hate clowns from now on. He was just certain he'd feel very strongly about them one way or another. Ennard looked topside towards the light in the ceiling before pointing behind the duo.

“...RACEWAY... SERVICE ELEVATOR... TAKE—TAKE—TAKE TO SURFACE...,” they said in a voice that sounded like nails on a chalkboard, static haze nearly impossible to decipher if one wasn’t listening close enough.

Gregory stared at Ennard, watching for any sharp movements. Then he relented, nodding his head once to show his understanding before Ennard slithered back into the darkness.

Gregory tried to speak then, to say something—anything—but the blood covering him in the darkness felt like it was suffocating him, too. Michael's cut arm shouldn't have been real, but to Gregory it looked like fresh gore, the violent wound suppressing his thoughts and making his words come out as little huffs.

This was all too much. Just when things seemed to be going somewhat right in Michael’s life, another event five times as traumatic happened instead. All he wanted to do was curl up into a ball and sleep for 100 years—maybe by that point the Fazbear franchise and all its related horrors would be nothing but dust, and Michael could finally breathe again.

But he couldn’t do that. Not now.

He had too many people to protect, one of whom was currently shaking like a leaf in his arms.

“H-Hey… hey…,” Michael began, then stopped to swallow a pool of blood that had lodged in his throat. Where it actually went he had no idea, although he wouldn’t put it past Henry to install an entire digestive system in these weird bodies.

Easing his grip on Gregory, Mike finally noticed the gash in his arm and almost choked at how real it looked. He searched for anything to stop the bleeding, but after finding nothing except broken mechanics, he simply ripped off the bottom half of his shirt and did his best to wrap the wound. Gregory was still sitting in his lap, staring at Michael’s arm with a dull, sort of queasy expression. With a grimace, Mike noticed the boy’s shirt was soaked through with a dark stain where he’d held him for dear life. After wiping the trail of blood off his face, Michael pressed gentle fingers to the underside of Gregory’s chin and tilted his head up to look at him properly.

“Hey.” Michael spoke with the confidence of a big brother taking charge to assure his siblings there’s absolutely nothing to worry about, even when there clearly is. Offering Gregory a slightly shaky smile, he continued: “We’re a-okay, kid; you’re fine, I-I’m fine, and so are Freddy and Charlie.”

He ran a hand through Gregory’s hair, trying to comfort and get off some of the dust from their tumble. “As long as I'm around I’m always going to keep you safe, okay? Promise.”

The reassuring words had put sparkles in the kid’s eyes. Though in actuality, those were just sparks from Roxy’s dismembered limbs that burned bright enough to catch a reflection off Gregory’s watery vision. While he couldn’t seem to muster words, he could finally move…

Slowly, calculated, Gregory dug inside one of his cargo pockets. After fishing for the roll of gauze he’d swiped from one of the first aid kits Gregory held it out, finally mustering the courage to speak after a few deep breaths.

“Here… Let me help,” he murmured, taking Mike's arm and slowly wrapping the gauze around the length of the cut. “Tell me if this hurts.”

Michael’s face looked bruised now, too; the cut on the corner of his mouth wouldn’t stop bleeding. 

“It doesn’t hurt,” Michael assured, his voice low and calm. He let Gregory work, watching the boy carefully. The poor thing was going to be scarred after this whole ordeal, that’s for sure—if not physically, then mentally. A sudden dark, vicious bubble of rage swelled within at this thought.

Yet another innocent child corrupted by his father’s madness. If not for William, Gregory wouldn’t be in this dank basement performing first aid on his synthetic robot friend. He’d probably be at home, playing video games or working on coding some new technical marvel.

Although, Gregory had run away for a reason… but even that place would be better than here.

Mike closed his eyes, chasing away this line of thought. Regardless of where Gregory was, he knew deep down in his soul that no one was going to love this kid more than he, Freddy, and Charlie did. Yes, they might have indirectly led him into danger multiple times, yet they always made sure Gregory was safe in the end.

“Alright,” Mike said once Gregory tied off the gauze and slipped it back in his pocket. He wiped another trail of blood off his chin and stood, holding out the hand from his non-injured arm to Gregory. “Let’s get out of here. I’m sure Freddy and Charlie are waiting for us.”

Gregory nodded and returned a forced confident smile, reality setting in that if Michael wasn’t there, he would’ve certainly died this time. He lifted himself up, using Mike’s hand as leverage before clinging tightly around his waist.

“I’m glad you’re safe, Michael.” Gregory punctuated this with a sniffle. Even if he was really the one in danger, Gregory couldn’t be more appreciative that he now had someone in his life willing to risk themselves to protect him. Those lights of admiration stuck around in his gaze long after they exited the area with Roxy’s twitching, bifurcated body…

***

When the lift doors to the elevator finally opened, it was apparent Freddy and Charlie had the same idea to go down and look for their friends. Upon seeing the gore splattered on Gregory’s cheek and shirt, not to mention the state Michael was in, Charlie gripped her hair in stress.

“Golly gosh—what the hell—” Charlie at least tried not to swear as she looked on to her friends.

“We’re fine,” Gregory insisted dryly, taking a long and smooth breath.

See? He didn’t even cry this time.

Everything was just… numb. Did that mean he was getting stronger?

Charlie looked down at Gregory worriedly, hands moving to cover her mouth, then pull at the collar of her shirt. In rare form, Charlie had been rendered speechless.

“Are you sure?! You are covered in blood, Gregory!” Freddy exclaimed, looking more distressed than he’d ever been.

“It’s mine—don’t worry,” Michael said, releasing Gregory’s hand so the bear could fret over his son. Mike looked to Charlie, giving her a tired smile which unintentionally reopened the cut in the corner of his mouth. He wiped the red liquid away with the back of his hand, letting out a short, hollow laugh. “I guess we do have blood in us, huh?”

Freddy of course conducted a health scan of Gregory, paws fluttering around the boy uselessly for a moment until he determined the extent of his injuries. Thankfully, the gash from Roxy’s claws had stopped sparking and was now just a less hazardous but unnerving open wound of exposed wires in Freddy’s arm. True to the boys’ words, Gregory was completely unscathed. The red stain on his shirt was not real blood, and any scratches from the wreck and subsequent fall were surface level.

“Thank goodness you are safe!” Freddy exhaled unnecessarily in relief, pulling Gregory in for a tight hug. He looked to Michael over his shoulder, blue eyes full of utmost gratitude. “Thank you for protecting him, Michael. I… I do not know what I would have done if—”

“Say no more, Freddy,” Mike cut him off gently. He cracked a grin, finally relaxing somewhat now that Freddy confirmed the kid was truly okay. “I told you he was safe with me, didn’t I?”

Holding tightly onto their resident papa bear, Gregory forgot his troubles for a moment. There was no need to worry about Mike; when the man stood up completely fine, he figured there hadn’t been any huge internal damage.

In the spirit of trying to keep things light, Charlie pulled her jacket sleeve down over the heel of her palm and begun to wipe Michael’s face clean of the fake blood. It seemed that this trend of cleaning up Mike’s rough and tumble injuries would continue throughout their immortal lives.

“That’s actually really metal,” Charlie mentioned, unafraid to don the green jacket again despite its now alarming blood stain. “My dad must’ve thought of everything when making these things…”

Gregory was busy nuzzling his face into Freddy’s shoulder, his troubles nearly forgotten as he explained: “That clown guy—Ennard? They ended up saving us…”

Charlie gave Michael a look, followed by a nervous chuckle. “Guess Ennard does love you, in a weird way…”

Michael could only grimace at this, recalling Roxy’s blood-curdling pleas as she was systematically torn apart. At least Ennard had the sense to spare Gregory from the sight of it all, though their violent strength only left Michael to wonder for the billionth time how the fuck he’d survived that thing living inside his body for a week… However, he’d learned long ago that some things simply aren’t meant to be answered.

“They ripped her to shreds…,” Michael eventually clarified with a light shake of his head. “I think we can safely say Roxy’s down for the count now, too.”

“At least our goal was accomplished,” Freddy said, lifting Gregory into his arms. He did this without thinking, just wanting to keep his son close after such a traumatic event, but by the way Gregory folded into his embrace to rest against his chest like it was the comfiest spot in the universe Freddy knew he didn’t mind.

Chuckling softly, he ran a claw through Gregory’s hair, then frowned when a plethora of dust came away in a little cloud. Glancing down at the stained shirt, then to Michael who was now essentially wearing a ripped-hem crop top, Freddy suggested: “…Perhaps we should stop by the gift shop and get you both some new clothes.”

“I don’t know—” Charlie chuckled, deciding to poke a little fun at her friend. “—that’s a very bold fashion statement you’ve got going on there, Mike.”

But of course, there was the matter of getting Gregory properly clothed now. Surely having that sticky red substance on his chest wasn’t comfortable.

“You need a new jacket, Charlie,” Gregory pointed out, adrenaline giving way to exhaustion as he chose to relax without protest in Freddy’s cradle. Periodically, Gregory would pluck and hold the bloodied shirt away from his chest as Charlie pondered this.

“I want to see what hoodies they have,” she remarked somewhat excited to be able to look for clothes. It was one of those things she never thought she’d miss until her soul was rearranged into a Puppet. “Let’s go. We can get Gregory a treat for being so brave.”

Charlie decided it best to treat her pseudo-brother with relative sensitivity. He wasn’t delicate, though to her it seemed his psyche was wearing thin from the violence he’d now become accustomed to.

“Maybe they have some cool retro shirts…,” Michael thought aloud, following alongside Freddy as the bear began to walk. He tugged at the tattered hem of his current top with a small sigh. “I’m forever grateful to Uncle Henry for these bodies, but this outfit is not my style."

Freddy chuckled at this. “I am sure they will have something that suits you—and if we cannot find anything to your liking on the main floor, we can check in the stock room.”

“Yesss!” Michael cheered quietly, pumping a fist by his side.

Maybe it was the fake-blood loss, or simply the high from nearly watching his new brother get turned into a fleshy pancake on a go-kart roadway, but as they walked to the gift shop Mike almost felt like a kid again. His best friend and his brother were going with him and his surrogate dad to the store, where they’d do some shopping before returning home for the evening. It was a surreal thing, for Michael to feel like he had a family again after all this time. Gregory and Charlie would never be replacements for Evan and Elizabeth, but the connection Michael had with them was just as strong—and Mike was doing his damndest not to mess these relationships up like he’d done for all the others in his life.

And then there was Freddy, the animatronic bear that was the most paternal figure Michael had come across in literal decades. A slow grin spread across his face as he remembered the kind-faced body waiting patiently for its consciousness down below. When Gregory and Freddy found out, Mike had a feeling they were going to lose their minds in the best kind of way.

Charlie couldn’t deny that she was excited to find new clothes. The ones her dad picked out were nice, the dated feeling of the 80s style familiar in a way that tugged at her heartstrings. Thankfully, in the Pizzaplex there was no shortage of things from that era. Looking at the newer “retro” fitted clothing lines that Fazbear Entertainment released had only driven Charlie to find more just like it. Her first grab was a loose fitting tie-dye shirt. In the middle was a classic Freddy face, giving a wide open smile. It made her wonder if they were trying to make it intentionally look like a Grateful Dead t-shirt and decided she liked it.

“Whoever’s designing these needs a raise,” Charlie announced, throwing it over her forearm along with a pair of high-waisted skate shorts. On the left leg was an embroidered patch of the Fazbear gang, simplistically stitched with bright, saturated characters.

Gregory felt the same as Michael as they began their little shopping trip, even if neither spoke their feelings aloud. While Charlie dug through the racks for a stylish hoodie to match her new outfit, Gregory clambered inside the rack. He'd always do this on the rare occasions his foster family took him out—only he meant to stay hidden from them. This time was merely for kicks. Having trouble finding something he liked, Gregory decided to poke his head out and get Michael's attention.

“Hey, Mike? What clothes do you normally get?” he asked, trying in a coy fashion to emulate his sense of style.

“Uhhh…” Michael stalled at the question, hands poised to shuffle through a display of shirts on the wall. He hadn’t worn anything but tight-fitting uniform work clothes for years, simply because they were functional for both his job and keeping his body in place. He also hadn’t actually gone clothes shopping in a long time—not since the magic of the internet allowed him to have things delivered right to his apartment, saving him a trip to the store where he’d be met with curiously suspicious glances.

He tried to cover up as much as possible, but inevitably one person would take it upon themselves to be the crowd’s spokesperson, walking up to Michael and asking in a not so subtle way if he had a contagious disease that caused his unusual pallor. Mike couldn’t count the number of times he’d simply told them he was a flesh-eating zombie who’d come to feast on their brains, then promptly left the store never to return. Even if no one but him understood the joke, it was still good to find humor where he could… though unfortunately his sense of humor got him banned from half the department stores in his city.

But back to Gregory’s question. The boy wanted to know Michael’s fashion preferences, and with a grin he replied: “I only get cool stuff, of course—you know, ripped jeans, leather jackets… Ooh, and rad shirts like this one!”

With awestruck eyes, he pulled a shirt from the back of the rack and held it up to the light. It was a loose-fitting tank-top that looked like the sleeves had been ripped off, leaving jagged edges in the turquoise fabric. The whole thing had a weathered, grunge sort of feel, and printed smack dab in the center was a fully colored decal of Glamrock Foxy’s grinning face.

“That's perfect for you, Mike,” Charlie pointed out, gently pulling Gregory out from the cover of the clothing rack, clearly feeling nostalgic since walking into this themed store. “You wanna be like this dummy and wear muscle shirts during the winter, little man?”

She remembered Henry telling Mike he’d get sick from being so cold, but for the longest time that style was all Michael would wear. Gregory thought being able to withstand the cold sounded pretty tough, because he was in search of something similar. He nodded, then dashed off towards the juniors section. When his search turned up empty, he instead went back towards the young adults’ area to look for something like Michael grabbed.

It was clear to Charlie that Gregory wanted to dress like Michael, and she found it endearing. She noticed a black muscle shirt with a Foxy-themed Jolly Rodger, finding it's toned down design cute. The skull had been replaced with a smiling foxy, and the bones crossed beneath were slices of cheesy pizza.

“Hey, Gregory, you should get this one,” Charlie urged, tossing him the shirt to go try on.

“This one's real rad!” Gregory said, using the slang he'd heard not five minutes ago before running off towards the changing rooms.

Michael was already in a stall when he heard Gregory’s speeding footsteps go into the one next door. Slipping off his old shirt, Mike did a quick 360 in the mirror to make sure there were no hidden injuries from the crash that’d come back to bite him later. To his relief, it seemed like his arm was the worst of it, though thanks to Gregory’s surprisingly good first aid it'd stopped actively bleeding. The cut on his mouth had stopped too, and as Michael looked closer he was shocked to see that it looked like the skin had almost healed itself back together… Just another question for his increasingly long list of things to ask Henry the next time they saw each other.

After slipping on the new shirt, which matched nicely with the dark-wash jeans this body came equipped with, Michael stepped out of the changing room at the same time as Gregory.

“Hey, nice pick!” he praised with a laugh when he caught sight of the boy’s new shirt, holding up a hand for a high-five.

“Really?” Gregory asked, slapping the palm of his big brother’s hand.

Freddy had been watching this whole display of course, and he couldn’t stop smiling. It warmed his heart to see the pair bonding like this—it was obvious that Michael cared a great deal for Gregory, and Freddy was thankful his boy was warming up to Mike as well. His prediction that they’d become an inseparable duo seemed to be coming truer by the minute.

Charlie squeezed behind them, closing the door to get changed—another daily ritual she’d have to get used to again. By the time she came out, Gregory was fixing his outfit in the mirror. The long hem of his t-shirt was half stuffed into the front left side of his cargo shorts, keeping the pockets clear for easy access to his things. As Charlie exited the changing room, she snatched a snapback cap from the back of the door. The pink hat with a pizza embroidered on the front had been a collectors Chica item, something Charlie wouldn’t mind stealing for herself.

“You ready, Charlie?” Gregory asked, spying her in the floor length mirror.

“Totally; let’s bounce,” she replied holding her hand out for him to take. When Gregory ran to grab onto her, she felt her heart melt. She never had a little brother, so this experience was new. She ate up the attention Gregory showed her, and in turn looked out for him.

“Let’s goooo; I want ice cream!” Gregory called to Freddy and Michael, happily walking besides Charlie. With three of the most dangerous animatronics gone, tonight they could relax. And Gregory could pretend their lives were normal for a few sweet hours.

“Ice cream?” Freddy repeated, falling into step beside Michael, who chuckled and patted him on the back.

“Charlie promised him a treat and you didn’t say no, so… looks like that’s what we’re going for,” Mike explained, to which Freddy nodded in understanding. Michael then leaned in close, whispering so only Freddy could hear: “Where’s the bakery? I think an ice cream cake with blue icing is just what he needs, don’t you?”

Freddy gave a soft laugh, recalling the group’s conversation in the diner. It seemed like so long ago, but in reality it hadn’t even been 24 hours since then...

“Follow me, everyone!” Freddy announced, picking up the pace until he was able to take the lead. As Charlie and Gregory began to follow, Michael moved to Gregory’s other side and held out a hand. When the boy readily grasped it, Mike beamed down at him before turning a raised eyebrow to Charlie. Silently, he jerked his chin downwards, and as one they hoisted Gregory into the air, letting his feet dangle a few inches off the ground. His weight was still nothing compared to their robotic strength, and based on his shriek of laughter he didn’t seem to mind the lift at all.

“Gregory,” Charlie voiced inquisitively, lowering him back to the ground as she asked “When’s your birthday? I keep forgetting to ask how old you are…”

She was already thinking of ideas for celebrating his special day. Between Charlie and Mike, they didn’t have the best track records with birthdays, and she was determined to make sure Gregory’s was something great. Plus, Charlie had simply grown to love throwing parties.

“I’m twelve!” Gregory chuckled. There was no further elaboration, which in turn confused Charlie. Before she could question him further Gregory gave their hands a firm squeeze and asked in a sweet voice she couldn’t refuse: “Wait—lift me up again?”

Michael obeyed Gregory’s request as well, giving Charlie a half-shrug as he met her gaze over the kid’s head. He was curious too, but birthdays were still a sore spot for him even after so many years; he certainly wasn’t going to push Gregory to explain himself if he didn’t want to. Maybe Freddy would be able to coax the information out of him at some point…

A few minutes later, the group concluded their blessedly animatronic- and night guard-free walk to Chica’s Bakery. The diner theme continued in this restaurant, and Freddy instructed the group to get settled in one of the bubblegum pink booths as he ducked into the back to retrieve Gregory’s treat.

The pristine vinyl seats were a safe haven. Chica's Bakery looked to be Chica's Party World inspired in its patterns and color pallete—pastels with a few neon mixed in to really draw the eye in against eggshell white backgrounds. It reminded Charlie heavily of Fredbear's Family Diner, and she closed her eyes in a sigh as she slid into one of the booths.

Falling in besides Michael was his little brother. If Charlie squinted, Gregory was already becoming a miniature version of her best friend for life and beyond. A loving homage to his saintly protector in grunge clothing.

On one side of the booth near the wall, there were sugar packets for the coffee menus. In an act of giddy delirium, Charlie experimentally ripped one open to sample its contents. She wanted to see exactly how realistic these androids were.

When Charlie felt the sensation of sweetness on her tongue for the first time in ages, her eyes widened in pure shock. Hell, her pupils even dilated from the simple sugar rush.

“Mike—dude, put this in your mouth. My dad's a freaking genius!” Charlie exclaimed. Somehow, she registered that it was sweet. The granules may not have melted on her tongue as fast as they would for a normal human, yet somehow she could taste them. As Gregory swiped the half-spilled packet from Charlie’s open palm, she found herself laughing out: “No, Gregory, not the straight sugar—”

“Hey!” Mike exclaimed in mock offense, more concerned with the sugar being snatched away from him than Gregory actually eating it. With a playful shove, Michael pressed Gregory into the plush seat back of the booth and reached over him to grab a packet for himself. Ripping it open, Mike leaned his head back and tipped half the contents into his mouth. His eyes widened as the sweetness washed over his nonexistent taste buds, and he promptly poured the rest of the sugar down his throat before Gregory could take it.

“Holy shit!” Michael murmured once the admittedly overzealous amount of sugar crystals had dissolved. Realizing what he said, he quickly slapped a hand over his mouth and threw a furtive glance towards the back kitchen. To his relief, Freddy was too preoccupied with his task to hear him, so Mike settled back into the booth with a grin.

“…Don’t tell your dad I said that,” he felt the need to remind Gregory, as if the kid would store this incident in his memory for potential ammo against him later. “Anyway—yes, Uncle Henry's amazing! I can’t believe we can actually taste stuff!”

Back in the kitchen, Freddy was staring down at the perfectly written cursive adorning a deathly-sweet treat. Unsure of what flavor to pick, Freddy had opted for Neapolitan ice cream encased in a fluffy, vanilla cake. The whole thing was slathered in white icing, and Freddy had added a simple border of puffball-shaped drops in electric blue that just so happened to match the lightning bolt on his chest. The bear had also taken it upon himself to write a message on the cake, which he was currently reading over to make sure it was absolutely perfect before he presented it to the eager group outside.

Charlie leaned back, laughing at the two of them as they interacted. Between Gregory actively trying to put himself into a diabetic coma and Michael swearing in front of him, it felt like she was hanging out with him and Evan again. Still, she didn’t think of Gregory as a replacement by any means, regardless of the similarities.  

Upon spying Freddy carefully toting the icy confectionery treat, Gregory practically stood out of his seat with a gasp.

“Guys, look!” he exclaimed in surprise. “Look what Freddy has!”

He shouted as if unable to put together words to match the joy he felt in that moment. Charlie looked to Freddy, pretending as if she didn’t already know the plan.

“Oh man—is that what I think it is?” she goaded, urging the excitement she saw bubbling behind Gregory’s eyes.

Charlie loved this; it felt nostalgic in its own right. Like a little private party they would throw for friends while hanging out at the dinner. Little celebrations just because they could…

When the cake finally reached the table, Gregory stood on the seat to glance at the message written in perfect script on its surface.

“Well, well,” Michael murmured, leaning back against the booth with arms crossed in front of his chest, a slightly smug grin tugging t the corners of his mouth at Gregory’s obvious excitement. “Seems that bear knows you pretty well already, huh?”

“Here you go, Gregory,” Freddy said with a beaming smile, setting the cake down with the practiced flourish of having done so hundreds of times. His soft gaze swiveled over the trio before ultimately settling on Gregory—the cake itself might be for him, but the intent of the message was for all of them. In fancy blue script were three simple words that encapsulated everything they’d been striving for these past few nights:

Welcome home, superstar!

Gregory had eyes fixated on the cake. As Charlie retrieved a spoon for him to feast with, Gregory could feel something wet rolling down his cheeks. The ice cream beneath the perfect blue icing tasted smooth, chilling his lips and staining them with its rich dye. Undaunted by the warm flow of water coming from the corners of his eyes, he thanked Freddy through a cold, grinning mouthful: “Thank you, Dad!”

This was it. This was the best cake he’d ever have. There likely wouldn’t be a need to taste another in his life, because no cake would be sweeter than this one.

Chapter Text

My mind is searching for something that I call home

Cause my eye is blind to these endless floors
But now I see that my time's all yours

~Take Me Far Away by DHeusta~

Charlie looked on, feeling the same sentiment as everyone else. As Gregory seemed unaware of his happy tears she wouldn’t mention them, but she did steal a swipe of the cake’s icing. Things were looking up for now.

Freddy had slipped into the only empty seat beside Charlie, his happiness at Gregory’s reaction turning to curiosity as he watched her eat a scoop of the sweet confection. When Michael did the same, he had to ask: “I am a bit confused… Your bodies are different than mine, but I thought you were still robots at your cores?”

“We are!” Michael replied, then licked the remnants of blue off his fingers while surreptitiously handing Gregory a napkin with his other hand. Whether the boy would use it to wipe off the food, his tears, or both was totally up to him. “At least, I think we are… For whatever reason, Henry designed these bodies with the ability to taste things, too. I’m not sure how exactly, but Charlie and I aren’t going to knock it!”

“Agreed!” the girl chimed in, savoring the sweet buttercream icing on her finger before grabbing herself a napkin. Across from her, Gregory took the paper from Michael to blow his nose in, having faced away from the group to be polite before stowing the napkin away in one of his pockets.

Gregory’s apatite for the cake didn’t stop him from wanting to be a part of the conversation as well. Looking to Charlie with a bright grin, he remarked: “I can’t wait to meet your dad!”

If the man was anything like his daughter, Gregory knew they’d be fast friends.

“He’s probably going to love you, honestly. He adopted like all my friends,” Charlie replied with a well-meaning roll of her eyes, thinking back on how every other day Henry asked if the kids could sleep over so her and Sammy wouldn’t be so bored and at the house alone during summer nights.

“It’s true,” Michael agreed, leaning back with arms crossed. He hooked one knee over the other, bouncing them slightly under the table. Could he get a sugar high from a few packets of granulated crystals and a scoop of sickly-sweet icing?

…Could he get a sugar high at all?

He had no idea, but this environment and these clothes were taking him back to his childhood—the good part, when he’d hang out at the diner with his best friend and siblings, daring each other to eat as much of whatever food they picked that day as they could. When it came to ice cream, things inevitably ended with Evan puking his serving back up—usually in the bushes just outside—and Elizabeth eating so much sugary goodness that she was bouncing off the walls long after her bedtime.

“I am excited to meet your dad as well,” Freddy chimed in, resting his arms on the table. Catching sight of the still-open gash, he quickly put his right arm back in his lap, though Michael saw it before he stowed the limb out of view. Ignoring the man’s narrowed eyes, Freddy added: “Henry sounds like a wonderful person.”

Charlie knew him and Freddy would get along. Hell, the character was based on her dad, even if just loosely. Henry used to reminisce fondly about how he and William came up with the characters.

“We were thinking up ideas in college—Uncle Will drew a bear for me, and I made him a rabbit. Just stuck around for so long, we made them into characters!”

It was so simple, and at the time, so wholesome... Charlie asked herself why William let it all end. Then, she asked herself why she even bothered remembering the fond things about him, after everything he’d done to those he supposedly loved.

She pushed it from her mind, attempting to be far away from even the good memories.

“You guys are similar like that,” she complimented Freddy, giving him kudos for everything he’d done for the three of them.

“Thank you, Charlie,” Freddy replied with a soft smile, understanding the intent behind her words. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in for a brief side hug, hoping she realized how much he cared for her, too.

“I can fix that arm up, you know—now that I’ve got two working hands,” Michael pointed out, nodding towards Freddy’s injured limb. He gave the bear a playful grin, eyes shining with mirth. “Unless you’d rather get another lecture from the dayshift techs again…”

“I would appreciate your assistance, Michael." Freddy chose to ignore the jibe, turning his attention to Gregory once more. Blue eyes widened as he realized the boy had somehow inhaled nearly a third of the cake while he was momentarily distracted. Freddy reached forward to pull it towards him and away from Gregory, gently chiding. “Alright, superstar, that is enough for now—we can save the rest for later!”

Gregory reached for a scoop the moment Freddy pulled it away, looking surprised that he would dare try such a thing. The feral boy had a smattering of Neapolitan ice cream stuck in the corners of his mouth, and stains of blue that clung to his lips. Before he could protest, Charlie leaned from Freddy’s affectionate grasp to lick her thumb and begin wiping his mouth with the clean spots of her napkin.

“No! Yuck!” Gregory finally voiced as Charlie swiped her wet thumb over his cheek. She gave a meaningless eye roll, holding Gregory gently in place as she cleaned his face.

“You’re messy! Don’t be a baby,” she snipped before the job was finished. After letting Gregory go, Charlie leaned back again on Freddy’s shoulder, watching in amusement as the kid rubbed his palms in a flustered way over his face.

“Still!” Gregory grunted, falling back into the booth before looking to Michael. The man’s promise from yesterday rang through Gregory’s mind.  “Are you going to show me how to fix Freddy’s arm?”

“Of course!” Michael heartily agreed. “I said I’d turn you into a mini-mechanic, didn’t I?” He slipped out of the booth and patted Freddy amiably on the shoulder. “Come on—let’s get you patched up.”

“You seem quite excited for this,” Freddy pointed out with a laugh, standing when Michael moved out of the way. 

“Is it obvious?” Michael joked, helping Charlie detach herself from the sticky vinyl and pulling her to her feet. “I’m super interested to see what makes you Glamrocks tick!”

Gregory had almost felt silly for even asking. With the intensity that Mike answered him, it was clear he intended to keep his word. It was only because Gregory had been let down so much before that he expected to show up and then not be allowed to participate. Of course, he trusted Michael to be better than the previous adults in his life. Though force of habit to remind people that he existed had become habitual.

“If you're doing maintenance work on an animatronic, but you also happen to be a cyborg... Are you a mechanic or a doctor?” Charlie wondered aloud as the gang began their trek back to Parts & Service.

It had Gregory answering in no time flat, replying with a laugh “Oh! A doctor—easy.”

“...I guess I'm a doctor now, then,” Michael concurred, nodding in acceptance. He walked with his hands in his pockets, still keeping watch but much more at ease now that he knew the Glamrocks wouldn't be bothering them anytime soon. Although, he couldn't help peering with narrowed eyes into every vent they came across that might be big enough to fit a certain robotic amalgamation...

He was grateful to Ennard for the save, but that didn't mean he suddenly liked the thing now.

“It should not be a difficult repair,” Freddy commented, glancing down at his arm and analyzing the damage a little more closely. He was holding onto Gregory's hand with his non-injured paw, letting the boy drift at his side at an easy pace. The fact that the others were much calmer than before helped Freddy relax as well, still the most high-alert out of all of them. “I think it is mostly severed wires that can be soldered back together and then replacing the outer casing, which we have plenty of spares for.”

Tonight was no longer a mad dash for survival. It seemed that for now they would avoid the wrath of Michael's father.

For how long exactly? It was hard to say. The man had invented the original robotic mascots so surely he’d be capable of fixing himself in no time flat, even in a shiny new model.

Despite his happiness at the sugary pit stop, for Gregory there was no true peace in the quiet night. Where there was a pleasant silence, he knew William lurked just outside their field of vision. Still, he asked himself why he was paranoid when there were many things inside the Pizzaplex that wished to help them.

But then he looked to that healing cut on Michael's lip. He stared past the hole in Freddy's arm and felt the tightness of skin healing on his own back. Physical reminders that every moment William was alive, there was a chance that Gregory could die.

Before he knew it, they were almost to the Parts & Service when Charlie decided to ask him a question.

“Huh?” Gregory said, rubbing his eyes to feign tiredness. “Sorry, I zoned out.”

Charlie gave him a strange look, clearly unsatisfied with the answer. She decided not to draw attention to it. “Oh, you looked nauseous to me. I thought you might’ve eaten too much cake.”

The sentence was punctuated with Charlie’s easygoing laugh—a laugh Gregory always found so infectious.

Glancing down at his son, Freddy could clearly see his growing distress. At what specifically he wasn't sure, but he squeezed Gregory's hand in silent reassurance. A few seconds later the squeeze was returned along with the tiniest smile, and Freddy chose not to press the issue. It was also at this time that the group were exiting Roxy's service elevator and making the familiar trek towards the protective cylinder. Upon reaching the main room, Freddy released Gregory's hand so he could settle himself in the chair as Michael rummaged around in a box of parts until he found an extra outer shell casing for the bear's forearm.

“Alright, everybody pile in,” Mike instructed, pointing to the cylinder as he moved to the old-fashioned computer. After activating the timed safety seal, he slipped inside right behind Gregory and Charlie, then went to work strapping Freddy's arms down as door sealed shut. Once everything was secured, Michael hoisted Gregory up to sit on Freddy's lap so he could watch the seasoned mechanic work.

Charlie observed Mike shut down power to the arm as she leaned against the wall of the cylinder. She could see growing interest on Gregory's face, and was happy he’d been distracted enough from his own thoughts. The kid made sure to ask plenty of relevant questions to what Michael was doing, even addressing some to the bear.

“Could you feel this even if the power was on in your wrist? Or do you just get an error message if you get hurt?” Gregory wanted to know. It didn't hurt to understand the intricacies of how your robotic family member ticked, anyway.

Charlie had been curious too, seeing how she was yet to feel pain. Suddenly, she glanced away quickly from the group, attention pulled to Roxy’s elevator hallway as the automatic doors closed again. However, by the time she glanced over there hadn't even been a shadow. Squinting into the dark, Charlie crept along the wall of the cylinder and attempted to get a closer view.

“I do not have pain receptors, so put your mind at ease,” Freddy replied to Gregory, doing his best to smile down at him over Michael's shaggy hair falling directly in his sightline. “But yes, I could feel that something was amiss and I received an error message that there was a structural issue in my arm. I would have received a much more pressing alert if the injury was more severe, though—”

“Awwww! Family bonding time in the workshop, hmm~? How sweet!”

The syrupy coo broke Michael's concentration, and he hissed instinctively as his grip on the miniature soldering torch slipped and caught the tip of his finger. He quickly turned off the flame, thankful for the dozenth time that he didn't seem to have pain receptors either, and quickly turned his head towards the sound.

“Look at you two!” Vanny called from a corner of the room, her patchwork suit half-obscured by shadow. Notably, her injured arm was still cradled in its sling—if there'd been any lingering doubt that Vanessa and Vanny were one and the same, it had now been crushed to pieces. The woman pressed her good paw against the side of her rabbit mask with a gasp. “How in the world did you find bodies all on your own?!”

Of course. Nothing good lasts forever.

Gregory had jumped off of Freddy's lap at the voice, a pointed glare shot at the glass as if his first reaction was to fight the sound.

Already pressed to the window, Charlie startled when Vanny popped up. Of course she wanted to know where these bodies came from. Telling her the truth was out of the question. Charlie touched her collarbone, quickly recovering from the scare. “Hmm, I can't recall. Can you, Michael?”

Gregory stormed up to the glass beside Charlie, fists clenched. He was fuming—mad that once again, a calm moment was ruined for him. These stupid rabbits would never let him relax.

“Go away, Vanny. No bunnies allowed,” he griped, half tempted to blind her with the bright beam of his flashlight. Gregory shoved a hand inside his cargo shorts, grasping the item in question ready to quick draw it on Vanny at the opportune moment.

“So rude! Your dad wouldn't be happy hearing you talk to his dear friend like that!” Vanny chided, wiggling a finger at Gregory. Her chest was puffed up slightly, still convinced that William cared for her like one of his own.

Well, of course he did—why else would he keep her around?

“Go. Away.” Michael echoed Gregory's sentiment in a much harsher tone, angling his body fully to face the rabbit. Freddy could only turn his head to watch, still strapped to the table with one arm powered down. Vanny sighed heavily, shaking her head so her ears flopped every which way.

“Michael, Michael... I just came to say hi! Your dad wanted me to check in on you since your last visit was cut short—he was really looking forward to talking with you and Evan, y'know!” There was an obvious pout in her voice, combined with a hint of disappointment that Mike had a feeling wasn't actually from Vanny herself.

“Well you can tell my father that I still hate his guts, and we don't need to be 'checked on,'” he responded through clenched teeth.

“Oh, I know—you're a big boy now, aren't you?” Vanny giggled, the sound unhinged and disconcerting. “He just worries so much... you're still his sweet kids, after all!”

That made Charlie let out a barking laugh.

“That's rich! If Will cared about us, he wouldn't be doing any of this! He strangled me in an alley! He never gave a shit about us!” She protested the very notion, though she was speaking more directly to the man that controlled Vanessa then the guard herself.

Incensed, Charlie bent to pick Gregory up. Even if they were in a safety cylinder, she wanted to hold onto him to make the equally angry child feel safer. The more she thought about how William used her father—her whole family—the more Charlie wanted to get her revenge as soon as possible. They’d trusted William Afton, and he spurned that trust in one rainy night. Vanny's delusions only served to infuriate as her positive, rose-tinted view of Will only reminded Charlie of the downfall of the Emily family.

“What does he want with me, anyway?” Gregory felt the need to ask. He wasn't sure why Vanny was here.

Oh god, Gregory began to second guess. What if she’s bidding William time before the even more psycho rabbit does something unspeakable?

Gregory clung to Charlie, feeling more helpless as he realized that although they were safe, they were also trapped.

Freddy's eyes had widened at Charlie's admission of her death. He knew that William was the one responsible, but she'd never shared how it happened... Unfortunately, there wasn't time to dwell over how cold and heartless Charlie's unnecessary demise was. Gregory had asked a question that everyone was also very curious to know the answer to.

Vanny tilted her head, as if confused by Gregory's ask. It was quite obvious, she thought—maybe the poor kid had amnesia and didn't remember who he was anymore? To be fair, she hadn't realized that he was Evan at first either, so maybe all of their minds were being messed with.

She giggled at the thought, then answered: “Well, you're his youngest, of course—he just wants to make sure you're safe and sound, and won't have to worry about anything pesky like dying again!”

“Tell that fucking asshole to stay away from him!” Michael snapped, smacking a hand on the glass aggressively. The sparking, purple Remnant in that sharp needle was still fresh in his memory.

Vanny didn't even flinch at the loud bang, simply letting out another sigh.

“Your father said you had bad mood swings, Mikey... he hoped you grew out of them, but I suppose that isn't the case.” She shrugged. “Oh well—at least I can tell him the great news about your new bodies! He'll be so happy!”

Fuck, Charlie thought, her grasp around Gregory tightening. She might not really be protecting him from anything, but she could at least make him feel safer.

“Like hell we’re going to let you near him!” she threatened. The first image that wracked her brain was William trying to kill all of them. Then experiment on the—

Gregory hugged his friend, feeling her relax again as she glanced away from Vanny. In turn she tried to ignore the meddlesome bunny, and advised for Gregory to do likewise.

“Don’t pay her any mind. You’re going to be fine.” Charlie’s reminder was for everyone in the cylinder. Gregory was going to be fine, and so were they.

Vanny barely seemed to register Charlie when she spoke to her. If William didn't care to pay the vengeful spirit any mind, then Vanny couldn't be bothered to either. Her focus was solely on the Afton boys, and she watched Michael step closer to his brother as if to protect him.

“Aww, it’s so sweet to see you two getting along after everything!” Vanny cooed, pressing her good paw over her heart. A giggle escaped the rabbit mask as Michael visibly tensed, fists clenching at his sides. “Oh come on, Michael—it’s not like that was a secret... It might be old news, but there’s still tons of public records about what you did at that biiiiirthday partyyyyyy~”

“Shut up…,” Michael whispered, his voice barely audible. Vanny leaned towards the window, mockingly cupping her paw behind the patchwork bunny ear.

“Hmm? What was that, Mike—”

“I said SHUT UP!”

The lack of pain sensors made Michael unable to realize he’d balled up his fists so hard they were cutting into his palms, small rivulets of blood trailing down his hands from the sharpest points. He stared Vanny down with a vision that was quickly turning red. His mind was slipping back to a time when he wasn’t so much younger than this body—when he’d decided to play a cruel prank that had gone horribly, horribly wrong…

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Michael hissed through clenched teeth, watching as the rabbit shifted between white, gold, and purple before his eyes. “And you don’t deserve to even think about my brother, so shut your fucking mouth!”

Sensing she’d gone a bit too far in her taunting, Vanny decided it best to leave and started backing away. “Oops~ I can see I’ve overstayed my welcome! I'll see you all again soon; byeeee~”

She giggled again, then with a wave skipped off to some unknown part of the Pizzaplex and out of view.

“Michael, wait!” Freddy exclaimed, still strapped down but managing to catch the man’s hand with the tip of his claw as Mike began stalking after her. The man wrenched his hand away as if Freddy’s touch burned, staring down at the animatronic with a look of unquantifiable anguish.

No longer was this Glamrock Freddy—the bear’s orange, red, and blue motif had faded into rotten gold, chest soaked to the endoskeleton with dark red that would never come out, no matter how hard Michael scrubbed. A broken, choked-off sob escaped his lips as the memories of that horrible day flashed across his vision, senses amped up to the extreme thanks to this new vessel. Cupping his face in his hands, Michael sunk down against the glass window as, in vivid detail, he remembered everything.

Charlie felt cold, watching how Michael crumbled. She remembered that day, and the stressful months afterwards. She'd never seen the Aftons with such high tensions. Charlie recalled finding Elizabeth pounding against her older brother's chest with her tiny fists in the backrooms.

Charlie wasn’t even inside at the time it happened. She’d walked in from the back entrance with Evan's gift, immediately noting the spray of red on Michael’s shocked and pallid face with Lizzie screaming at the top of her lungs.

“HE DIDN'T EVEN WANT THIS PARTY! YOU AND DAD MADE HIM GO!”

The fight the three of them had... Charlie choked, cursing the tears in her eyes. When she was sad as Puppet, her vision was never impaired by realism. The wet sensation grounded her, pulling her back to the now.

“Michael—” Charlie prompted, setting Gregory on his feet as she crouched to her old friend’s side. Her hand ghosted over his shoulder, afraid to touch in his tightly-wound emotion.

To Gregory, watching Michael break down was heartbreaking—far too much for him to just stand aside. Mike had always been there for him, but Gregory didn't even know where to begin with helping him out. He began associating rabbits with cruelty this weekend, and witnessing one break the man with a few sentences was the solidifying factor.

“—Fucking bunnies,” Gregory muttered under his breath before moving besides Michael to comfort him. He had no clue what upset him so badly; he just knew he didn't want anyone he cared about to be this heartbroken over what Gregory only assumed to be a mistake...

Michael stayed curled into himself for a while, not registering the others' presences as his mind raced through all the screaming... the sinking, gut-wrenching drop in the pit of his very soul as he realized what his stupid “prank” had done... the blood—there was so much blood...

Blood that was on his hands, literally and figuratively.

When Michael finally took in a deep, shuddering breath and pulled himself back to reality, the feeling of sticky, synthetic red coating his face and hands from where he'd cut his palms nearly made him lose it all over again. He forced himself to look anywhere else, taking in his surroundings.

Freddy was in the maintenance chair—the good Freddy, this one had nothing to do with the past, and probably couldn't even fit a child's head in his mouth with this current design. Charlie stood by Michael's side, her hand hovering over him for comfort but clearly still afraid to touch so as not to shatter his fragile psyche all over again.

And then there was Gregory, staring up at him with terrified eyes.

But he wasn't terrified of Michael—he was terrified for him.

“O-Oh god...,” Mike breathed, pulling Gregory in for a tight hug and hoping the boy would forgive him for ruining yet another shirt. He held Gregory with trembling arms, feeling the boy's heartbeat as they pressed close together. He knew the answer, but he still had to ask in a small, stuttering voice: “Gregory... y-you're alive, right? P-Please... tell me you're alive...?”

Gregory squeezed back. He'd tried to emulate the things the others did for him whenever he was scared beyond belief. He rubbed Mike's shoulder, only stuttering in his movements when Michael asked him that question.

“I'm alive... Of course I'm alive.” He had to be. Gregory certainly didn't remember dying. There was no way.

And even if somehow had slipped past the veil of the mortal realm, Gregory was certain he’d lie just to keep this guy's heart from breaking even further. Where he should have felt a reasonable amount of fear in regards to Michael, Gregory could only sympathize.

Besides Michael, a form slid against his shoulder. Charlie found it hard to intervene, her heart still broken from the cruel reminder of the past. Michael's mistake being thrown in his face like that reminding Charlie how she had treated him that night.

Her first reaction had been a simple question:

Why?

When he didn't answer right away, stunned by grief and terror, she’d pushed him and asked Michael why he couldn't just have left his brother alone for one minute!

Charlie wished that anger wasn't her first response that day. The regret still weighed heavy on her mind.

Michael simply nodded in response to Gregory, leaning his head on Charlie's shoulder as he held on for just a little longer. Gregory was still alive, and Michael was going to keep it that way. He wasn't going to let his new brother's fate be the same as his other siblings'.

After a minute, Mike slowly pulled back to look around the room again, gasping when a blue-clawed paw caught his attention.

“Oh shit—Freddy!” he exclaimed, gently dislodging himself from the others to move to Freddy's side. The poor bear had been immobile this whole time, forced to listen to Vanny's taunting and Michael's subsequent breakdown without the chance to help. Mike wiped his face and hands off on a nearby rag and got to work finishing the last repairs. “Sorry; I didn't mean to leave you stuck...”

“It is alright—you were acting in everyone's best interest, and I cannot fault you for that,” Freddy replied, watching the man carefully. He was never going to forget the look Michael gave him, like together the pair had done something bad. Hesitantly, Freddy began: “Michael, are you—?”

“We can talk later, when we're back in the security office,” Mike cut him off with sharp headshake. He clenched his jaw tight, focused on repairing the animatronic's arm. If he couldn't make himself whole again, at least he could do so for Freddy. “Just... let me work for a minute, okay?”

“Do it; it’ll make him feel better,” Charlie assured, rounding about the chair to come by and pet the top of the bear’s head. She carefully maneuvered around his little top hat and focused by his ears as if it soothed him.

Meanwhile, Gregory had taken to watching the glass for signs of Vanny. The next time he saw her, it would be a matter of attacking on sight. He wouldn’t leave any room for the bunnies to torture them mentally or physically any longer.

As the simple soldering job finished, Charlie helped Michael in releasing the restraints from Freddy’s limbs.

“There you go; good as new,” Michael said with a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, helping the bear sit up.

“Thank you,” Freddy replied, turning his arm over to examine Michael’s handiwork. He met the man’s smile with a grin of his own, which seemed to brighten Mike’s expression in turn. Michael had come to find mechanical work relaxing in a weird way, but he didn’t usually get thanked by the animatronics he fixed up. It was certainly appreciated, though.

“Alright, back to the office until dayshift?” he suggested, hoping the others agreed. He wasn’t sure if these bodies needed to sleep, but damn was he tired.

At Freddy and Charlie’s agreeing nods, Michael moved to Gregory’s side and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, looking through the window as well. In his best pirate impression, he asked the boy: “Arr, any sign of danger on the horizon, cap’n?”

Gregory was scared of going out there. In the minimal chance that Vanny was waiting around the corner, Gregory would say to proceed with caution.

“Aye—” He’d tell Michael, following his lead with the over the top accent. “—may be rocky seas ahead. We’ll need lifelines.”

Not too discreetly, Gregory slipped his hand into Michael’s. Pretending did take the weight of what just happened off of his mind. Under his youthful eyes, there were dark spots forming from the stress and lack of sleep. He kept himself awake with caffeine and sugar far too many times and now he had the telltale signs of restlessness.

“You guys heard the doctor-pirate,” Charlie chimed in, attempting to keep the mood light until they got back. “Let’s mosey.”

Once everyone shuffled out of the cylinder and there was actually space to move, Freddy grasped Gregory’s free hand and gave the boy a soft smile. He then took Charlie’s as well, creating a chain with her and Michael on either end.

In response to the questioning gazes, Freddy simply responded: “We all need lifelines, do we not?”

Michael simply chuckled in response, taking the lead in walking them back to the elevator. They did a pretty good job of holding onto each other despite the sometimes awkward positioning, only letting go once the security doors were locked down tight in the office. Freddy immediately grabbed the charging cord and plugged himself into the outlet, settling in his usual chair while his battery replenished. Michael rolled a chair next to the bear, idly spinning around once before finally settling with hands resting in his lap. It was a small gesture that put an equally tiny smile on his face, but it was just what Mike needed to release more of the tension threatening to make his anxiety go wild for the billionth time that evening.

Gregory would have curled up on Freddy like the other night, only now he couldn't sleep knowing he was just going to get nightmares. He watched Freddy plug himself in, and Michael did his spin in one of the many chairs. Gregory could try to pretend it was okay for everyone else's sake, but he felt tense and nervous. He wouldn't be able to relax if he didn't know the reason for Michael's reaction.

What could he have done that newspapers talked about?

As he watched Charlie, who seemed quiet and reflective sitting in the corner, he thought about asking her… Then quickly decided against it. It wouldn't really be right to talk about what seemed so personal to Michael with someone else, especially when Charlie still looked upset from the encounter as well. He knew her well enough now to understand it took her a lot to talk about things.

The fact she even mentioned what William did to her—

Gregory shook that thought from his mind, approaching Michael.

“Are you okay?” he asked, holding onto the office chair and stilling Mike in place. Gregory, above all else, wanted to make sure he'd be fine.

Freddy perked up as Gregory posed his question, watching Michael’s expressive face go through various levels of guilt, anger, and anxiety in a matter of seconds. Eventually, Mike heaved a large sigh and hung his head, looking down at his lap.

“As much as I want to say ‘yes,’ you don’t deserve to be lied to,” he replied somberly. He lifted his eyes to meet Gregory’s, trying a sad smile that just turned into a grimace. “Something happened when I was a kid, and… well, I guess I was more of a teenager, but I did something—bad, and sometimes all the details come back at once and I just sort of… freeze up because it’s too much.”

He was starting to ramble, the admission of his biggest regret still hard to contextualize into words even after all this time. He also needed to be careful when explaining this to Gregory and Freddy. It would certainly be better for Michael to tell them what happened instead of letting them find out from a random news article, but… how do you explain to your new family that you were directly responsible for the death of your sibling?

Charlie looked up, not expecting Michael to say anything to Gregory. She managed to speak up for him as a way of encouragement.

“Sometimes good people make mistakes,” she said as a reminder to both of them.

Gregory could understand the implications of what Michael had done as a teenager. More specifically, from what Vanny alluded it was his own brother he harmed. All he knew for sure was that it had, for one hellish time, captured the grotesque attention of the entire town.

“Michael,” Gregory said, finding it hard to speak about his emotions for a moment. Eventually, he settled on a few poignant words. “It doesn't matter what you did back then. That was like a billion years ago, and you... you've shown me you're a good person. You're my brother.”

Saying it out in the open for everyone to hear, Gregory made it known that he thought of everyone in this room as his family.

For a moment, Michael could only stare at Gregory with an expression of shocked confusion. He knew the boy cared about him—at least, he hoped he did after everything they’d been though—but he never imagined Gregory would care to the same extent he did… Not enough to call Michael that.

Hot tear streaks burned Michael’s cheeks as emotions flowed freely. He couldn’t remember the last time he cried… He’d been numb for so long that nothing could get to him enough to prompt such a reaction.

Nothing except his family, that is—but wasn’t that always the case?

“T-Thanks, Gregory,” Michael stuttered out, leaning forward to wrap his arms around the boy’s shoulders. It wasn’t the tightest hug, giving Gregory the choice to reciprocate or break free if he wished. Michael still didn’t feel like he deserved to be considered Gregory’s brother—but that was an issue he needed to work through on his own. Now that he’d officially been given the title, he sure as hell was going to live up to it and be the best damn big brother he could possibly be.

“It… means a lot to hear you say that,” Michael added softly, and there was a definite smile in his voice now. “You… you’re my brother, too. Don’t ever forget it.”

With the go-ahead to hug him, Gregory jumped at the opportunity to wrap his arms around Michael's shoulders. The reassurance that Gregory knew he was a good person relieved a bit of the tension.

“This was a rough night—” Charlie remarked, sighing heavily. “—we should rest up. You're both looking tired.”

She was one to talk. Charlie felt like falling over and looked like she was about to as well. Were she not already flush to the ground, she might have. With no internal messaging errors, Charlie felt like the only solution was to just lay down and shut her eyes.

“Speak for yourself,” Michael muttered as he took stock of Charlie folded onto the ground, the joking tone in his voice indicating that he was slowly returning to his usual self.

“I think it is best if you all rest,” Freddy chimed in gently, looking over the exhausted trio. Charlie and Michael might be made of metal and wires, but on the outside they looked like young adults who'd just been through a second night of hell.

“What time is it?” Michael asked as he and Gregory finally broke their hug, running an absent hand through the boy's hair when Gregory leaned heavily against his leg. It was clear that the caffeine and sugar crash was starting to hit the kid hard.

“It is almost 5 am,” Freddy replied, then unplugged the charging cord and stood up. Ever their stalwart protector, he hoisted Gregory into his arms and urged the others to stand as well. “Come on; I do not want you to fall asleep here only for me to have to wake you up in an hour. Let us return to my room and you can all rest. I will keep watch and make sure you are safe.”

Gregory had rag-dolled in Freddy's arms. No thoughts sat behind the kid's eyes as he felt completely safe when scooped into a hold like that. It was clear from the way he batted his eyes open that he was currently fighting the sleep.

He did not want to go to sleep. He dreaded something happening while he was unconscious and unable to fight.

Even Charlie was having a hard time finding the motivation to stand. She ended up using help from Michael's had to gather herself from the ground. She affectionately squeezed an arm around his back, giving him a brief and tired side-hug.

As soon as they dragged themselves to Rockstar Row, Gregory was out like a light. With his hands peacefully resting over his chest, he drooled as he finally surrendered to sleep. With no more worries for the night, they crept into Freddy's room. 

Freddy set Gregory on the couch and pulled a blanket over him. When he seemed to frown from the loss of contact, the bear slipped his Freddy plushie into his arms, which Gregory immediately clung to as his expression smoothed into peaceful sleep. After a bit of prompting, Freddy was able to get Michael and Charlie to lay down right in front of the couch, moving the star table with its pizza and Fizzy Faz trash out of the way so the trio could sleep as close to each other as possible. Once Charlie and Mike were settled with their own blankets and pillows, they drifted into “rest mode” in less than a minute.

In their sleep, the trio looked more peaceful than they ever had. Freddy pressed a hand to his mechanical heart as he gazed down at them, feeling a sudden swell of what could only be described as violent affection—he realized with a mild shock that Gregory wasn't his only child anymore.

In the span of 48 hours, Freddy had somehow ended up with three to care for... and regardless of how Charlie and Michael felt about his paternal status, he vowed to protect them to the end of time.

Chapter Text

Aren't we having lots of fun
Whoa oh oh
Live the nightmare again
Aren't we having lots of fun
Whoa oh oh
We will sleep when we're dead
Aren't we having lots of fun

~Lots of Fun by Tryhardninja~

The bear kept a steadfast watch while the others slept, and they got a solid few hours of rest before the commotion outside began. Originally, it seemed like the dayshift staff was slow to arrive—in reality, they were simply looking elsewhere in the Pizzaplex as it was immediately clear that Chica and Roxy weren't in their rooms. Freddy peered out the window just in time to see Sophie's familiar face marching towards his door.

“Everyone, wake up!” Freddy exclaimed in a whisper, rushing over to lightly nudge the group awake. “Dayshift staff is coming to check on me—hide in the back until they are gone!”

The day guard didn’t seem as easygoing as she was yesterday. This was bad. Really bad. Half their robots were missing. Someone had swiped the refurbished Foxy animatronic before they had a chance to announce his grand revival—a fact few staff even knew about. Roxy Raceway was smoldering when Sophie arrived at the Pizzaplex.

Mr. Emily couldn't come into work and see this. Despite his kind heart, Sophie had a feeling the high-strung man wouldn't hesitate to fire all of them for such a fiasco.

“Freddy!” She knocked, unaware of the issue that the team was having waking up Gregory.

The kid was out cold. It hadn't taken Charlie or Michael much time to get up, but because of how sleepy Gregory had been, he was waving them off and rolling over to ignore their pleas to wake. The kid mumbled something about feeling too sick for school before Charlie went to pull the blankets off of him—

Then, the door unlocked with a master key and security guard Sophie let herself in past the threshold, only to blink at the oddball group.

Right. That was another thing: the Fazbear Entertainment heirs had stopped by for a check-in.

“Uh... Pardon me. Mr. Afton, Ms. Emily—” she acknowledged, rightfully assuming their identities based on rumors she’d heard about special visitors.

Don't ask the snooty rich people why they were sleeping in Freddy's room, Sophie thought, slowly making her way inside. That’ll just be awkward...

“—Freddy! What the heck happened last night?!” Sophie interrogated, mindful of the sleepy child in the room by directing her anger into a rough whisper-shout.

“Ah, I... do not know, Officer Sophie; I am afraid my memory banks are still on the fritz,” Freddy said, stalling for a moment as he processed that the others were not about to be taken into custody.

It seemed Vanessa had regained consciousness in time to inform dayshift that the Afton and Emily heirs were currently visiting for an extended period. Staff were instructed to be as cordial as possible and listen to any request they had, lest they feel the wrath of the CEO bearing down upon them with swift consequences.

Michael had frozen along with Charlie as the door was wrenched open, staring wide-eyed at the intruding woman. He recognized her from yesterday, though she sounded in a much fouler mood than before—rightly so, he had to concede, for the stress of losing three of the main animatronics in a giant Megamall would certainly make anyone a little snippy. Upon realizing their ruse from last night still held up, Michael allowed the tension in his shoulders to relax, shifting his face into the more serious imitation of his father. He acknowledged Sophie with a light nod, then went back to trying to gently wake up Gregory, though not nearly in as much of a panic.

Gregory gently batted Mike's hand as it nudged him. He was determined to sleep, and hugged his Freddy plushie accordingly.

“Freddy... Are you lying to me? I know you’d been escorting our uh... friends around.” Sophie said, with lack of a better way to describe the surprise guests. The two other people in the room were dressed like they’d grabbed stuff off the racks in a dark room, all things she recognized as merch from their stores. Though mentioning such a thing with or without provocation would certainly end in Sophie’s termination.

Charlie finally managed to get Gregory to wake up by sliding his plushie from under his arms and earning a frustrated simmer of words.

“Why is everyone being annoying?!” Gregory moaned, stopping Sophie in her accusations while she watched the tiny, presumed Afton complain.

“Shush, Gregory,” Michael said tartly, though he made sure to run a hand over the boy's hair to show his tone was just for show. “We've got a visitor.”

“I am not programmed to lie,” Freddy responded to Sophie, his face a mask of innocent confusion. “As you said, I have been escorting the Afton and Emily heirs around all night... I did not notice anything amiss.”

The bear glanced towards the trio questioningly, head tilted in detached deference. He was a machine with selective memory loss at this moment, and that's all that he was.

“I didn't, either,” Michael said with a shake of his head. His eyes narrowed at the guard, his tone ice-cold. “Why? Is there a problem...?”

Oh fuck, Sophie was in trouble now. When she looked to Michael her face burned, a flustered red stripe glowed over her nose and onto the apples of her cheeks. Obviously he would rat her out to his father—wherever the hell he’d been all this time—about the current and ongoing issue.

Though if Mr. Afton was here, along with Mr. Emily's daughter, then surely they were here as employees? Despite the man's cold, blue stare, perhaps he was here to help...

“...Yes. Every day I've been coming in to do my security rounds, animatronics have gone missing. They've all been experiencing a personality glitch, too. We can't even find where the robots are going on the security feeds, because they stopped recording weeks ago,” Sophie admitted. After all, she wasn't the one supposed to be watching them at night!

Sophie managed to stand tall, hoping not to appear meek or inexperienced. She watched as Gregory quickly assumed a position behind Michael, gazing at her with judging, suspicious eyes. “It just doesn't make sense, sir.”

Charlie feigned a wide-eyed glance, as if surprised at this discovery. “Did you speak with the night guard?”

“Hardly. She told me the issue, that her wrist had gotten worse, that you three were visiting. Then, poof; she probably clocked out...,” Sophie explained further, acting as if she were talking before administration. Though one of the people who outranked her here was 12 years old. 

Michael’s face relaxed slightly as the poor day guard tried her best to explain the issue. He felt bad for stressing her out, but he needed to play the cool, commanding roll of authority. While he took ironic inspiration from his father, it didn’t mean he had to be exactly like William—especially in terms of compassion.

“…I see,” Mike said after a moment, his tone less sharply angry and more just annoyed. He let out a small sigh, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he looked at Sophie, who was clearly trying not to directly meet his intimidating stare.

“Well, this is certainly a major issue… but it seems like blame for lack of surveillance falls under jurisdiction of the night guard, doesn’t it?” He rolled his eyes with a click of his tongue. “Honestly, it’s insane that they only have one person to patrol this entire building after hours…”

“I am sorry I cannot be of more help,” Freddy said, looking as genuinely apologetic as a robot could. “As I have explained to you all separately, my connection to our internal network has been severed since the other night, so I have been unable to contact the other animatronics.”

“You’re not the security guard, Freddy,” Michael pointed out dryly. “It’s not your job to keep tabs on everyone…” He gave another sigh, then looked to Sophie again. “We can at least confirm that Freddy's functioning properly in Safe Mode, as he gave us a tour last night and didn’t show any issues.”

Sophie let out a breath she hadn't realized that she was holding. Michael may have intimidated her at first, though at his reassurance she allowed herself to stop fretting over whether or not she’d be blamed for the current state of the Mega Pizzaplex.

“Best case scenario, they're broken down without power, which is why they aren’t responding to the manual call-back buttons inside their rooms,” Sophie explained, looking to Freddy with an exhausted smile. “At least you're still kicking it, right, superstar? Heh…”

The bear seemed to be in better shape than the state she found him in last night anyway. Sophie’s attention was pulled back to Michael, the most adept liar of the group for answers. “And you guys didn't notice anything out of place last night then, I take it.”

“Not at all,” Mike replied easily, shifting his weight so he leaned against the couch with arms still crossed. “Well, we noticed the other animatronics weren't in their rooms—although they've always tended to wander.”

A faint, strained smile crossed his lips for just a second as his eyes flitted to Freddy. There was a slight, awkward lull in the conversation, before Michael decided to ask: “Do you need Freddy for anything today?”

Hopefully she'd say no and he could remain by their side. Although, even if the techs did want to check him out just to be safe, at least Michael was no longer afraid of being discovered and having police called on them for trespassing.

“I need Freddy to stay in his room,” Sophie replied much to the dismay of Gregory, who desperately required a proper breakfast in his stomach asap. Sophie seemed set on this, hands on her hips as she made it clear: “While dayshift’s out looking for the rest of the band, no other animatronics are to leave their rooms. Obviously we’re on temporary shut-down from customers while we find the Glamrocks. Not to mention how messy all the attractions have gotten...” She sighed, shifting into a more demure stance. “You’ve probably heard all this from the big boss already, though.”

Charlie wanted to protest Freddy’s jail time, though any excuse she had lined up wouldn't have made sense with their current situation. There technically wasn’t a need for Freddy to be outside of his room, since there was no one to entertain today. The Mall would stand empty this weekend—a rarity for the money-making pit. Luckily, Gregory spoke up in their bear friend’s defense.

“But—” he interjected, peeking from behind Michael. “—he's my friend. Mike said he gets to play with me as much as I want!”

“There's other great animatronics, too,” Sophie reminded gently, firm in her conviction on this point. “There's the Sun character from the Daycare, the DJ...”

While it wasn’t an outward no, she’d essentially told Gregory to go kick rocks.

“It is alright, Gregory,” Freddy reassured, smiling brightly. He knew it would be even stranger if the others stayed in his room all day, and he could tell that Gregory was getting hungry. Still, he hated the thought of just being stuck in his room while the other three wandered the Pizzaplex...

Although, he reasoned that they wouldn't be alone, as the entire stock of dayshift staff were around—and Freddy also hadn't forgotten about that animatronic presumably still lurking in the vents. Despite Michael's obvious hatred of the thing, Ennard had saved him and Gregory, so Freddy presumed they'd offer the same protection if circumstances became dire.

Michael had a similar thought process to Charlie—he could probably get them to let Freddy wander around by throwing the Afton name around a little harder, but it would only cause unnecessary questions. It was all well and good for a 12 year old to be attached to the bear, but his two adult caretakers should agree with the other adult in this circumstance... At least for right now.

“Hey, we can still visit Freddy anytime we want—plus, it'll be easier to find him now that we know he's staying in one spot!” Michael pointed out, looking down at Gregory and pleading with his eyes not to fight the issue. His plan was to go along with Sophie's wishes for a little bit, and then swing back and pick up Freddy after they got Gregory some food. If they were questioned about the bear, they could deal with it then.

There it was, rearing its ugly head again: Gregory was beginning to develop separation anxiety. Though clearly it would be easier to go along with their wishes, Gregory could only cross his arms and pout. There was no way to protest this without feeling like he was jeopardizing the mission. So, silently, he glared at Sophie who took this in stride.

Charlie ruffled his hair in response, doting on him while excusing his behavior. “Sorry, Ms...?”

“—Walten,” Sophie filled her in, introducing herself fully to them. “Sophie Walten.”

Charlie smiled kindly at her, holding Gregory's shoulders as she felt the boy seethe with silent anger. “You'll have to excuse him; the kid didn't sleep enough.”

“And he gets grumpy when he's hungry,” Michael added, flashing Gregory a grin much closer to his normal demeanor. Settling his face back into cool detachment, Mike looked back to Sophie. “Do you happen to know if there's any dining location in this place that sells breakfast food? We’re not quite familiar with everything yet.”

Michael hoped it would cheer Gregory up from having to part with Freddy if he could get something other than pizza, since he still seemed a little queasy from inhaling an entire one last night. Besides, who knew when the last time the kid had a proper breakfast was...

As Mike posed his question, Freddy moved closer to Gregory so the boy could stay by his side a little longer. He even patted his back gently, as that wasn't out of the realm of what Freddy might do to comfort a random, upset child. Hoisting Gregory into his arms would probably cause some questions though, so the bear avoided that for now.

Sophie softened more when Michael relented to smiling at the child. Maybe he wasn't the hard-ass she presumed him to be.

“El Chip technically sells lunches. But I get their 'Not breakfast' Burritos when I get here early enough,” Sophie offered as their solution. It was one of her favorites, the pork burrito drawing a fine line between breakfast and lunch but remaining mild enough to eat first thing in the morning.

“That sounds tasty—right?” Charlie asked, nudging Gregory some until she saw a faint smile on his face.

“Can I have two burritos?” Gregory asked, feeling his stomach quietly rumble at the mention of food.

“I suppose that’s fine,” Michael said with another faint smile. He patted Gregory's shoulder as he addressed Sophie, telling her: “Well, we need to get this one some breakfast. We appreciate the update on the situation, though—please let us know if anything else comes up.”

His tone indicated this wasn't a request, but a command. Mike wanted to be the first one to hear any news—they never knew what might help their situation down the line. Besides, to his knowledge there still hadn't been any update regarding Monty's missing half—a fact that Michael easily forgot about over the course of the stressful night, but was concerning nonetheless. There were only two things that could've happened: either Monty crawled away on his own, or someone took him... and Michael wasn't sure which was worse.

“Uh right—I can give you both updates, sir,” Sophie assured, nerves making her play with the hem of her shirt sleeve. “In fact, if you happen to swing by any of the security offices, you can grab some walkie-talkies stored in the desks. That way you both can stay in the know a little easier.”

She made sure to smile at both of them. Her job was on the line at this point, and as Sophie began to egress, she waved.

“I should check on the others. Stay safe, you two.” Sophie tried to sound optimistic despite the dire circumstances. Upon her departure, Charlie nudged Michael in the shoulder.

“Dude, you were going to make her pee herself.” She was barely holding back a snicker at the way Michael's acting had the security guard wracked with nerves.

“Ugh, in a way I wish I wasn't so good...,” Mike replied with a dramatic shiver, then nudged Charlie in the arm. “But look at you, playing the sweet, innocent one; you almost had me fooled for a moment there!”

Michael tried to play this comment off with a straight face, but that only lasted about three seconds before he burst out laughing at his own lame joke. Now that the coast was clear, Freddy crouched in front of Gregory and began fixing up his sleep-mussed hair, wanting him to appear as presentable as possible for the dozens of staff who'd inevitably see him. The less questions they had about the random appearance of the founders' grandchildren, the better.

It seemed Charlie could only remained straight-faced as long as Mike did. Once his dam of giggles burst, Charlie was barely holding back her own laughter. Was it lame? Yes; it was still funny to her regardless.

Gregory may have done well with a comb, though the naturally wavy hair hid how under-groomed he was. This kid probably needed a shower more than anything, still hiding the sweat and blood by simply changing his clothes whenever possible. Gregory closed his eyes as Freddy swept a claw along his bangs, trying his best to clear the boy's face of his messy hair. The cut on his cheek had faded into a thin, pink line. Bruises that were already yellow when they first saw him had disappeared into obscurity on his face.

“I'll see you soon, Dad,” Gregory said, making sure his Fazwatch was turned on with its sound on the louder side. It wouldn't hurt him to make sure they could reach Freddy whenever possible.

“Yeah, don't worry—we'll get Gregory some food and head right back to bust you out of here, alright?” Michael added, filling the others in on his plan. He stood straight-backed and, in the poshest British accent he could manage, proclaimed: “Let's see what they'll do if Michael Afton Jr. insists on keeping the robot around, hmm?”

Freddy chuckled at this display, glad to see Mike in good spirits.  Still crouched, Freddy pulled Gregory into a quick hug before letting the boy go to join his siblings. “I will see you shortly, superstar; enjoy your breakfast!”

“Eugh, dude—the voice,” Charlie griped dramatically. She pantomimed a look of nausea as Gregory gently slapped her arm while laughing at Michael's over-pronunciation.

To strangers, Mike came off as aloof and threatening with this impression. To Gregory, he sounded like Mary Poppins. It was all an act anyway, and sure, it was fun to pretend to be someone else for a while. After Gregory gave his dad a farewell hug, he parted to run between Michael and Charlie.

“If anyone asks, Gregory, who are you again?” Charlie drilled quickly, holding his hand as she quizzed him to see if he remembered what they told Vanessa yesterday.

“I'm Michael's cousin!” he replied quickly, hoping the distance in relation would excuse his lack of emotion. Surely no one would be so interested in them or their family lineage to ask such invasive questions, though it was good to have a little background.

“Perfect.” Charlie gave his hand a squeeze for luck. Soon, they were freely roaming Rockstar Row, no worries now that the sun had risen.

It was strange to see the Pizzaplex bustling with life. Though Michael and Charlie's souls had technically been around since its inception, they'd only woken up once the terrible threat of William Afton reared his ugly rabbit head yet again. Even though no guests roamed the floors, the flurry of staff running to and fro gave a hint as to what life might be like when things were normal around here.

Mike felt a pang of wistfulness as he watched a group of younger staff members chatting and laughing together. He'd given the dayshift a shot during his early years, but he had a nasty habit of getting attached to people that inevitably met an unfortunate end, so he tried to stay friendly but aloof enough that it was easy to cut ties when the time came. Despite the terror of his nightshift duties, he appreciated its solitude for similar reasons. Even so... sometimes he wondered what it would've been like if things had been different.

But he didn't need to dwell on those thoughts now—he had a family that would stick by his side through thick and thin now, and for once he dared to feel a little bit happy.

The walk to El Chips was surprisingly short, since the trio were distracted by all the bright colors of the Pizzaplex in the daylight. They also got some stares as well, but no one dared come up and speak to them. Sophie's warning that it would be in everyone's best interest not to bother them, especially the Afton boys, certainly did the trick.

The group of young adults had seen the trio coming, and after one elbowed and sharply whispered to the others, they grabbed for the nearest task to look busy. One swept over a clearly clean spot with a broom, another began wiping down a help desk, while the third pretended to answer a call.

Watching them made Charlie wistful, too. It may have seemed that she and Mike were judging the workers, but really their glares were only filled with envy. Charlie had never gotten a chance to form solidarity in a group like that when she was alive. Thankfully, she’d been given a second chance to try it with her new family.

Inside the restaurant the S.T.A.F.F. bots were busy cleaning, though one rolled behind the counter once recognizing customers coming in.

“Two burritos, please!” Gregory shouted, running up to the counter;

“That will be eight dollars and twenty six cents,” the bot replied in a scripted form.

Gregory narrowed his eyes, on his toes to be able to send a dangerous glare over the counter. “I don't have any stinking money! Just put it on Mr. Afton's tab or something!”

When the robot repeated the question, Gregory felt his bottom lip wobble. He was exhausted and hungry, and this might just be the final straw to send him over the edge. Why did all the robots around here want him to starve?

“No worries—I've got this. Gregory, keep a lookout,” Michael instructed, taking a furtive look around before hopping over the counter. When assured no human staff were wandering by, he opened a back panel in the S.T.A.F.F. bot that gave the techs quick access to its computer system. Being such a rudimentary design compared to the likes of the Glamrocks, it took Mike less than a minute to finagle some base coding around to turn off the bot's insistence on monetary compensation.

Michael closed up the back panel and returned to the correct side of the counter, waiting intently to see if his little trick worked. The robot was still for a moment as it reset, before suddenly perking up and responding:

“Thank you for your patronage. You are order number...” It paused, accessing data from the last time someone had bought food. “...87. Please listen for your number at the window. Have a Faz-tastic day.”

“Yesss!” Michael cheered quietly, pumping a subdued fist at his side when the robot wandered off to the kitchen to start preparing the food. He then glanced down at Gregory, trying to be serious despite the grin twitching up the corners of his mouth. “It's not good to tamper with company property like that, okay? If you're with anyone but us, you could get in biiiig trouble.”

Gregory felt his own smile grow as he witnessed the blatant vandalism of the robots. With both him and Charlie watching for any signs of human intervention, Gregory was excited to finally hear the order number after one grueling minute.

“Of course, Mr. Afton.” Gregory snickered, happily confident that they had the whole facility tricked into thinking they were allowed to be here.

“With Michael hacking the server bots and that fake coin of yours, we could have a fun day today,” Charlie pointed out. It would be good for them to try and unwind before what was sure to be another night of insanity.

“Oh, yeah!” Mike perked up at the mention of Gregory's handy coin on a string. He glanced to their right, where if they listened closely the faint sounds of beeping and electronic music could be heard. “You know, we're right next to the arcade... One of them, at least. If you want, we could play a few games before picking up Freddy?”

He glanced down at Gregory, wondering if the boy's desire to be a kid or his newly-formed separation anxiety from his animatronic dad would win out.

Gregory took a moment to toss the idea around in his head. It seemed as though every time they strayed from Freddy for too long, something got in the way. There was always some mishap or disaster that required immediate action. Charlie bent at the waist, shaking Gregory by the shoulders to encourage the boy’s more explorative side.

“Gregory—think of the prizes we could get,” she teased. Charlie wanted him to forget his worries for a little while, and video games were the perfect distraction.

“Alright—after I get my burritos, we should hit up the Arcade!” Gregory finally relented, conceding to the impromptu plan of relaxing with some video games. Anything to remove the lingering fear this place still held over him. Then, they would return right back to Freddy. No harm, no foul.

“Order number 87—your food is ready at the window.”

As if on cue, the S.T.A.F.F. bot's voice called to them from a little window off to the side. A bright orange tray with Freddy's face on it was set down, though the image was mostly obscured by the plate on top of it that contained two piping hot burritos. Michael grabbed the food before Gregory could crawl up on the counter and attack it in a frenzy, walking the group over to one of the little tables in the back. He set the tray down and slipped into a seat on the opposite side, patting the spot next to him for Charlie to join.

Gregory had thrown himself into the tan plastic chair. Surrounded by orange, green, and bright glowing cacti he practically vibrated under the neon lights for the burritos he’d been promised. He wasted no time as Charlie squeezed in besides Michael, mindful not to sit on his hand before looking at the food Gregory opened with envy. Sugar was one thing, but she wasn't exactly sure if they were made to withstand eating normal meals.

“How're the burritos?” Charlie asked, watching as Gregory took a bite and swallowed a portion, yet didn't seem fully satisfied until he reached for a bottle of Tabasco. He quickly poured a good fraction of sauce into the burrito before taking another critical munch.

“Tangy,” Gregory replied, trying not to spit his food everywhere as he spoke with a full mouth.

“What a rousing review,” Michael snickered.

Tentatively, more afraid of Gregory trying to bite his hand off than the consequences of what he was about to do, Mike reached for a small piece of extra pork left on the plate next to the untouched burrito. He held it up to the light, suspicious as always of Fazbear Entertainment food. Then with a shrug he put the pork into his mouth, chewing experimentally before swallowing it down with shining eyes.

“Okay, we'll see what this does to my systems in a few hours, but I sure hope we can actually eat—I missed horrible, cheap food like this,” Michael admitted, watching as Gregory inhaled the rest of his first burrito and moved onto the next one. Whereas the sugar had been sweet, the pork was even better than Mike remembered. Maybe his pure desire to taste food again was clouding his taste buds, but he didn't really care.

“Are you kidding me?” Charlie asked, wide-eyed as if the Fazbear food hadn't been everything when they were younger. Being raised on a steady diet of processed, cheesy pizza, made it Charlie's comfort food. Or, perhaps the idea of it was. “The sawdust they probably packed that burrito with is flavor country.”

As the pair spoke, Gregory was currently trying to beat the world record for most El Chip meals eaten in 30 seconds or less. That didn't even count the time he took to inject a heavy dose of Tabasco into this tortilla as well. He couldn't make for conversation, as he was busy devouring his breakfast like it was his last meal.

Mike relented with a laugh, raising his palms up in a gesture of peace. The food might be horrible in an objective sense, but he had to admit he couldn't get enough of it, either. He turned to check on Gregory, eyes widening as he saw the plate completely empty and the boy licking his fingers clean.

“Wow... I suppose we're done with breakfast then!” Michael pushed a stack of napkins towards Gregory. In his frenzy, the boy had gotten Tabasco all over his face, and Mike watched Charlie out of the corner of his eye to see if her sisterly instincts kicked in enough to try and wipe off his face again like at the diner.

No, it wasn't Charlie licking her thumb this time. She thought smarter and licked a napkin first as she leaned over the table. As Gregory attempted to escape her reach, Charlie's reflexes were superior to his. The back of his head was held in place as she dabbed the orange vinegar and spice solution from around his mouth and cheeks.

“Bluh! Pfftt—” Gregory raspberried the air, trying to get Charlie to cease her sisterly actions. This had only spurred her on out of spite.

“Oh stop! There's no one even here; are you embarrassed because I love you?” she remarked, feigning offense to his refusal in allowing her to clean him.

“No! It's because you put cooties on that napkin!” Gregory griped, entirely serious, which only made Charlie laugh harder.

“No, wait, Charlie—he's right!” Michael exclaimed, eyes wide and serious. His words caused her to pause and stare at him with a raised eyebrow. “You do have cooties...”

He shook his head with a dramatic sigh, then flashed a wicked grin. “But I don't—c’mere!”

Faster than lightening, Michael had licked his own napkin and took over Charlie's attempt to wipe the remaining half of the stubborn orange stain from Gregory's face. His shrieks of protest only made Mike laugh and work harder until, finally, Gregory was sufficiently clean enough to let go. Mike sat back in his chair with a satisfied nod, discarding the crumpled napkin on the table and smiling brightly. “See—that was much better, wasn't it?”

Oh how badly Gregory wanted to frown. As he flopped his backside back into the plastic seat Gregory tried so hard to pout. Yet a smile twitched back in at the last second.

Charlie nodded in agreement. “Much better, we can see your cute face without all that grease.”

Gregory's was red with embarrassment as he wiped away the synthetic spit. Though everything had been carefully removed by Michael, he still felt as if it was there just clinging to him.

“I'm not cute!” he protested further, then felt the need to get up and throw away his trash to escape the attention. The kid’s reaction had only made Charlie excited for the future.

How could they collectively embarrass Gregory with their familial affection in public spaces?

It reminded her of when she’d tried to be more independent, but her parents refused to let her feel like anything except their baby. Gregory may have acted mad, but Charlie could spot the hidden smile from miles away.

Surreptitiously, Mike held out a hand underneath the table for Charlie to high-five, murmuring too quietly for Gregory to hear from across the room. “Good one, sis.”

And it was true—he and Charlie were best friends to the end, but sometimes it was hard to tell where that line of friendship ended and family began. Besides, thinking logically as Freddy would, if Charlie and Michael were both Gregory’s siblings, then it stood to reason they were each other’s as well.

Charlie would try to sneak him a high-five, finding herself smiling at Michael’s little nickname for her.

“Careful,” she reminded him “That hand’s covered in cooties.”

“Who wants to get their asses kicked at Faz-Fighters?” Gregory asked upon regaining his composure. He already knew the answer though. His siblings were practically begging for one after rubbing spit all over him. Charlie stood up to let Mike have space to leave, shooting Gregory a mock glare as she rose from the chair.

“Those are strong words for someone within noogie distance,” Charlie warned him fair and square, causing Gregory to laugh and hide away by Michael’s side. The kid seemed to be in better spirits with some more food in his stomach.

“Oh, you’re on, Gregory,” Michael said, eagerly leading the way to the arcade with Gregory tagging along close to his side. “Little did you know that I was the master at arcade games back when I was your age!”

Michael’s chest puffed up a bit. He hadn’t been able to gloat like that in forever! Sure, he might be competing with a twelve year old, but he had a feeling this kid had more skills than Mike’s other siblings and the Emily’s combined. With the confidence of someone who thinks they’re unbeatable, Michael grinned down at Gregory with a raised eyebrow. “Want to make it a real competition and add a bet to this thing? I’ll even let you set the conditions.”

Charlie knew if they had any of the older games like Fruity Maze or Midnight Motorist, Gregory would be toast. However, the kid seemed to have an overabundance of confidence when it came to arcade cabinets.

“Bet? I thought we didn’t have any money!” Gregory replied with a smirk. Though that wasn’t him dismissing the idea outright. In fact, Gregory looked curious. “Alright—if I win, you gotta carry me on your shoulders and introduce me as Champion of the World.”

Charlie rolled her eyes. For a tiny kid, Gregory had a big ego. Luckily, Michael could relate at times.

“High stakes,” Charlie replied with a laugh. Gregory seemed as if he knew what he was doing. Hell, the kid risked his life to play video games, so he must love them.

Michael didn’t seem perturbed in the slightest, merely sticking out a hand for Gregory to shake on and still wearing that overconfident smirk. “Deal.”

He didn’t bother setting victory conditions for himself. The chance to take a mental and physical break from the horrors his life had become was enough of a prize. Besides, though he was loathe to admit it, watching Gregory attach himself to the Faz-Fighters game console like it was molded to his hands did give Michael pause—

But only for a second. He was the reigning champion of high scores back in the original diner, after all. Surely this would be a piece of cake.

***

It was a piece of cake… just not for Michael. In a shockingly short span of time, the kid had wiped the floor with him, leaving Mike to stare open-mouthed at the flashing screen proclaiming Gregory the victor.

“No way…,” he muttered as the disbelief stared to wear off. In a slightly whining tone not unlike when he lost as a kid, Michael corrected: “I mean, no fair! This competition was rigged from the start! I demand a rematch.”

“Someone's a sore loser,” Gregory mentioned, perhaps trying to irk him intentionally as little brothers were want to do. He wore an impish grin, and pointed over to Charlie who’d been racking up tickets from one of her own games. Surely that was cheating; of course she'd be able to play the Puppet's Gift Giver like nobody’s business.

“We could play again,” Gregory said, swinging the drilled coin in his hand. “You're still gonna lose though.” He leaned against the machine, realistically thinking Michael may just be severely under practiced, hence his good luck this round. “I'll even be balloon boy this time! You'll totally win...”

The kid was a hustler and a con artist, that much was evident. As Charlie played her rather relaxed game of giving presents, she’d been laughing at the boys for the past five and a half minutes.

“No, I’m not falling for that—we’re playing Fruity Maze this time,” Michael said, crossing his arms resolutely so there was no room for argument. Gregory had picked one of his games, so now it was Michael’s turn. He shot Charlie a glare for her continuous snickering, though it was playful enough not to actually seem threatening—and Michael’s grumpiness only seemed to make her laugh harder. With bright eyes ready for revenge, Mike led Gregory over to one of the Fruity Maze consoles and gestured for him to slip his handy-dandy coin in the slot.

“You can go first,” he said with a wolfish grin. Surely the kid didn’t stand a chance on one of Michael’s old favorites.

Fruity Maze? Gregory scoffed and went towards the isometric, table shaped game. After quickly examining the controls, Gregory replied with a scoff. “Too easy. Just a maze...”

The clueless boy let his coin fall into the slot before pulling it out swiftly. As the game activated, Gregory realized that it was a timed challenge, every round started with so many seconds and although he did manage to earn some, the maze was nearly impossible being mostly dead-ends.

Who makes a game like that? Just to torture people?

The anxiety of wasting time on the clock eventually caught up with Gregory. On the third round, he met his fate in yet another dead end and let out a groan. “This game cheats; it's busted— there’s too many corners to get trapped in!”

“—Games are supposed to be fun, boys,” Charlie remarked with another laugh, her current pile of tickets stacking up heavily. What she was saving up for was unknown.

“Let me show you how a pro does it,” Michael said, stepping up to the console as Gregory faked the machine out with his coin again. He’d spent hours and hours of his life learning how to avoid every dead end and get all the power-ups he possibly could. His concentration narrowed into the small square window of the display, and soon he'd well-surpassed Gregory’s score. He could’ve played for much longer, but decided not to torture the kid too much and allowed his character to lose all his lives shortly thereafter.

“I’ve still got a few tricks up my sleeve,” Mike commented, trying to sound nonchalant despite the twinkling of mirth in his eyes.

A prompt was even displayed, telling Michael that he could input his initials to be immortalized in the High Score Roster. The roster itself wasn't very full, people not willing to go through the learning curve of a 40 year old game. Hell, Gregory would bet the machine itself was a salvage and wondered idly whose initials of SUZ still stood the top of the chart. It’d nearly been knocked off by Michael's score, just thirty points away.

“That's amazing!” Gregory replied with a hearty laugh. “There's only like six people on this chart and you got second place!”

Gregory would have to come back and learn the machine, just to get first place and rub it in Michael's face later.

“Thanks, kid,” Michael replied, taking his compliment as genuine and not realizing Gregory’s secret plans to dethrone him on the leaderboard. He typed in his initials and turned back to Gregory with a smile no longer wicked with fierce competitiveness.

“Even though we’re tied, you technically won the original game we made the bet on… so I’ll give you the win this time.” Michael held out his hand to shake on again, but as Gregory took it his grip tightened and he playfully threatened. “But next time, you’re going down!”

Gregory opened his mouth to disagree, his hand grip strength trying to match his brother, but when an alarm blared from Charlie's game in the corner his vision snapped to her. A robotic voice sounded from the speaker system, over the synth music they played on repeat inside the arcade.

“NEW HIGHSCORE!” it shouted, highlighting whenever someone topped the leader boards for any of the games. Tickets flew from its metal-box dispenser. Charlie knelt on the ground and just barely able to fit the roll she was collecting in her arms.

“I lived inside of an Arcade for like 30 years! I had a lot of time to get good at this game!” Charlie said, humbly averting her gaze before gathering her winnings together. She used to be sort of a newbie when it came to games and remembered having either Sammy or Michael beating levels for her that she just couldn't figure out. Now, she could operate one with her eyes closed.

Michael slowly shifted his gaze from Charlie to Gregory, murmuring to the boy: “Alright, good to know: never challenge Charlie to a high-score competition…”

After laughing at his jibe, Gregory rushed over to Charlie’s side and helped her pick up a ream of tickets that fluttered to the floor before his eyes. “What exactly are you gonna use those for, anyway?”

Charlie looked like she’d been waiting for someone to ask. Pointing back to the prize counter, Charlie diverted the boy's attention to the top shelf. On it was a 'deluxe' Fazbear vintage backpack. She spied it the last time they'd come to the Arcade. It came with a sticker sheet, a themed notebook, plus a Fazbear crayon pack. The backpack was familiar, and reminded her of the one a certain dead-beat Uncle had gifted to her long ago. She wanted it for the nostalgia factor mostly, but it wouldn't hurt to have a backpack to carry about things for both themselves and Gregory.

“Feast your eyes,” Charlie remarked, pointing to the saturated canvas bag. It appeared to be based off of Freddy's color scheme, the red's, tans and browns allowing a singular blue lightning bolt on the front to pop. “Two thousand more tickets, and it'll be mine.”

Michael let out a low whistle. “Wow, I didn’t notice that before…”

Likely because the last time he’d been here, he was still stuck in Freddy’s head. Plus, they’d either been running from Roxy or trying to find where Gregory wandered off to on the way to the security office. Speaking of which—

“Hey, Gregory—what was that game you found the other day? Princess-something?” Michael asked, eyebrows furrowing inquisitively. He hadn’t gotten a good look at the machine for obvious reasons, but the brief flash of images he’d seen intrigued him. He glanced to Charlie again, gesturing to her ticket pile. “You won, right? Maybe we can check it out again and help Charlie get some tickets!”

Never mind the fact that they didn’t need tickets to get whatever merchandise they wanted. They were already wearing half the gift shop’s supply of clothes, but because of their Afton and Emily status, no one would dare question them even if they took the most expensive prizes in the whole mall. Still, though Michael’s instinct was to simply snatch the backpack off the shelf, he could appreciate Charlie’s want to do things the right way.

It was an endearing trait that Michael had really only seen in one other person—a good, good... friend and coworker from before he’d been scooped. The guy once recounted a story of how he racked up tickets for months to get a silly little prize he could’ve easily encouraged the mangers to gift him for overtime compensation… Michael rolled his eyes at the good memories, refusing to think of the bad ones that came afterwards.

“What do you think?” he prompted, nudging Gregory’s shoulder with his elbow and using the physical touch to ground himself. “Want to help your sis kick ass at video games?”

“Princess Quest?” Gregory asked, though really he knew which one his brother was talking about. The ticket payout was decent if you beat the game after unlocking everything. He could probably beat it again, faster now that he knew the paths and secrets.

“Yeah! It's in the corner; be back with a butt-ton of tickets!” he reassured, happy to show off in front of his siblings.

“Oooh! Thank you so much, Gregory!” Charlie made sure to tell him. After all, they could pool whatever was left over and get Gregory and Michael a prize, too. They could hone their skills for a bit and collect their tickets to get any number of things—or, if that didn’t work by the end of the day, go with Michael's plan to steal anything they wanted.

Charging towards the back, Gregory retraced his steps from two nights ago, his memory leading him correctly now to the dusty old game. Charlie did her best to roll up the absurd amount of tickets and fit them into her pockets.

“Here, let me take some,” Michael offered, holding out a hand when he saw Charlie struggle. When she hesitated, he rolled his eyes with a laugh. “I promise I won’t steal them… this time.”

He flashed her a grin, all teeth and unconvincing innocence, though he got Charlie to relent and hand over a small stack of tickets that Michael folded up and shoved into his pockets. While it wasn't entirely Michael's fault for having such an untrustworthy face, that devilish and toothy grin did not do well to convince her.

“I will destroy you if you use them to buy those cheap sunglasses again,” Charlie warned. She would never forget that time she'd gone to use the bathroom, coming back to find Michael with the brand new Fazbear aviators on his face. He wore them inside the whole day while Charlie struggled to earn back the ticket loss.

They followed Gregory’s path to the Princess Quest console. Michael frowned as he examined the area and the machine itself, both of which looked like they hadn’t been touched in a long time.

“Weird,” he murmured, running a fingertip over the console and coming away with a fine coating of dust. “It’s like no one’s played this for months…”

“It must have a reputation. I know when I played it, the game was glitchy as hell,” Gregory admitted, lining up with coin with the slot hole again before pressing start.

“No wonder no one wants to touch it,” Michael commented, watching the screen light up. He frowned, staring at the little yellow player character as she ran around per Gregory’s direction.

Something about this game was… not right. Michael couldn’t place why, though. It just left him with a queasy feeling in his stomach the more he watched the princess fend off the glitching purple creatures. Although, maybe the queasiness was just from the meat he’d stupidly consumed earlier.

“Looks like it’s part of a series,” Michael pointed out, speaking more to Charlie since Gregory was clearly in the zone. He gestured to the logo at the top of the console, which had a big Roman numeral “one” next to the Princess Quest name.

“Huh...” Gregory paused, hesitating on pressing on. If there were more, he would rather find a newer version to play. “Let's find the sequel! Maybe they fixed some of the glitches...”

There was something awful about those bunny creatures. They just reminded Gregory a little too much of William. Then again, the likelihood of him having some part in this games creation was high. After all, the other games had at least one of the co-owners names as credits for the IP.

“Isn’t there another arcade?” Michael asked, trying to recall his mental map of the Pizzaplex. They were in the East Arcade, so it stood to reason there was a West as well. “Maybe if we can’t find part two in here, it’ll be in the other one!” He paused with a slight tilt of his head. “…We should probably pick up Freddy first, though. And maybe get a walkie from the security office nearby.”

“Oh good idea! I can go grab the walkie-talkie,” Charlie offered, unafraid to go alone with all the employees freely meandering about.

As Gregory finished the level, this game left him with an odd headache. It was very easy to get distracted by the hypnotic sounds and atmosphere of it all. For it being a simple 8 bit game, its magnetism almost had Gregory asking Charlie what she said before he was able to pull his attention back.

“Oh yeah! We'll see you in a minute,” Gregory replied, figuring it best to pull away and try to contact his dad. Both to let him know where they were, and that they’d be swinging by, Gregory raised the themed watch to his face and began to phone him. “Freddy? Come in, Papa Bear...”

“HELLO, SUPERSTAR!” Freddy’s voice blasted out of the tiny speaker. Michael flinched back as Gregory frantically readjusted the volume while Freddy continued with his parental questioning. “How are you feeling? Did you have breakfast yet? If so, did you get enough to eat? Have you had water as well? It is very important to keep hydrated, you know! Are you having fun with Michael and Charlie?”

“Give the kid a chance to answer you, Freddy!” Michael chimed in with a laugh, leaning over so his voice could be caught by the Fazwatch microphone.

Gregory had sputtered a moment before the bear finished his barrage of questions. Gosh, he must be bored without them!

“We had breakfast burritos! I can pick some water up before we come back to get you,” Gregory assured, beginning to head out of the Arcade to wait for Charlie in the hall. “We're having a lot of fun! Right now we're trying to play the rest of Princess Quest so we can win Charlie this backpack she wants.”

“That sounds wonderful!” Freddy replied, the smile obvious in his voice. He was glad to hear that no strange instances had occurred during his absence, and that the trio seemed to be getting along just fine.

“Like Gregory said, we're coming to get you in a few minutes,” Michael added, following Gregory out into the hallway and parking them both against the wall just outside the arcade entrance. He took stock of the various staff members wandering around, though as before no one actually tried to talk to them.

“Alright; I will see you all soon!” Freddy responded, unable to hide his eagerness to get out of his room and spend some quality time with his family.

It seemed a number of staff were gathering near a large vent in the wall, shinning lights inside. As Charlie came back with one large walkie-talkie clipped to her belt buckle, she craned her head in curiosity at the spectacle.

“Something wrong, fellas?” she asked, standing behind the group. They must not have noticed her at first, the gaggle of young adults nearly jumping from their skin.

“Ms. Emily! Sorry—Uh... We... Think there might be a... A small rat problem?” a nervous boy forced out. Charlie raised an eyebrow, silently waiting for him to elaborate further “We... Uhm... We keep hearing scratching? And uh... Honking. That might just be Music Man though. He loves the vents...”

Charlie's first thought trailed to Ennard, and she instantly averted to soothing mode. “Oh! Don't you guys worry about rats. I'll tell management to schedule an exterminator on Monday.”

The staff thanked her as she headed back to her group with a wave, seemingly relieved not to go back to their investigation in the central airway vents.

“We should get back; Ennard is freaking the staff out...” Charlie jabbed a thumb over her shoulder, pointing out the pack of scared college graduates.

“Oh, for fu—” For the sake of Gregory and the sanity of the staff who flinched when Michael’s face twisted into an expression of what they presumed to be rage at their incompetence, Mike managed to reign in his curse. Pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut, he heaved a sigh. Once composed, he offered the group a dead-eyed Afton stare, though it was really focused on the vent cover beyond them.

“Yes, it’s nothing to concern yourselves with,” he said to the huddled staff members. Michael clenched his teeth in a sharp smile. “I’ll see to this problem personally.”

With that proclamation, Michael turned on his heel and started the trek back to Freddy’s room, making sure to grab Gregory’s hand along the way. He wished there was a chemical he could just spray in the vents to flush Ennard out, but in reality Mike just needed to have a little chat. He’d almost gotten used to the fact that Ennard was following him around, but he couldn’t have the thing freaking out staff—the last thing they needed was for someone to come across the amalgamation on accident and get traumatized.

If Ennard didn't scare them, Michael's stern attitude sure had. Gregory made sure to hold onto to Mike's hand as his brisk pace was simply too fast for the boy. He made no complaints, despite the distance they crossed in such a short amount of time. It seemed the staff were more aware of them, either making sure to stay clear, or attempting to schmooze with the group by wishing them a 'good morning' in passing.

“Are you mad, Michael?” Gregory asked, hoping the mood Ennard put him in would pass.

“Hmm?” Mike glanced down at Gregory, having been lost in thought. When he saw the boy's face, his expression immediately softened into a much more easy-going smile. “No, I'm not mad—just annoyed. I don't want Ennard to get spotted; the last thing we need on top of everything else is people questioning what the hell they are.”

Which was true... although he really wanted the thing to just go away and never come back. However, Michael had a sinking feeling that Ennard had already grown a fondness for Gregory, too—certainly not to the extent they obsessed over Michael, but Ennard had saved both of them. He doubted they were going to leave them alone anytime soon.

Charlie tapped Michael's shoulder, garnering his attention. “They seem to not want anyone to find them, at least. Maybe we should tell everyone not to snoop around the vents?” She unclipped the walkie-talkie from her belt loop with one fluid motion and held it up.

“Oooh! Good thinking, Charlie!” Gregory said. Everyone listened to them as if they were from Administration regardless. Emboldened, Charlie pressed the speaker button and relayed the message.

“Hey, Staff, this is Ms. Emily—” She spoke professionally into the receiver, finding it weird to refer to herself in such a manner as she talked. “— Any and all maintenance on the air ducts are postponed until further notice. If you have any concerns, find myself or Mr. Afton.”

“Thanks—that should help a lot,” Michael agreed, flashing Charlie a grateful smile. After a short pause, they rounded around to Rockstar Row, hearing the various staff copy her well-put message.

Nearing Freddy's room, they could see that he'd opened the curtain for the first time since the other night. It allowed the glowing, fluorescent lighting of Rockstar Row to filter into the room, which was noticeably cleaner than when they'd left. Apparently, this is how Freddy had been entertaining himself in their absence. When he caught sight of them, Freddy waved enthusiastically and moved to open his door.

“Hello, you three!” he greeted with a smile, ushering them inside. “Gregory says you have been enjoying your time together!”

“Yeah, he's a great kid,” Michael said, a bit absently. He was looking around Freddy's room, clearly searching for something, and upon Freddy's question of what that might be the android responded: “I'm looking for a vent big enough to fit a certain someone...”

“Ah, check the back storage room,” Freddy replied, inclining his head to the door. With a thankful nod, Michael followed his instructions and went into the back room, soon locating a large vent near the top of a shelving unit.

“Hey!” Michael hissed, looking into the darkness. “I know you're in there—come here for a second, will you?”

And oh, how Ennard wasted no time rushing to Michael's beck and call. The way Ennard moved sounded like a rain-stick made of aluminum. When their form finally passed half the threshold of the air duct, Ennard let out a frighteningly loud, “MIKEY!” in greeting.

“WE HAVE MISSED YOU... HOW IS CHILD-MICHAEL?” Ennard asked, apparently not quite catching Gregory's name, but associating him with Mike nevertheless. They tilted their head, sporadic and unpredictable with their movements. It seemed almost painful to move in such a way as they fitted their parts in the right place, slowly morphing their shape back into that of a crude person.

“Ugh...” Michael grimaced, hating how Ennard moved on principle. “Gregory is fine; you don't need to pay him any mind.”

As little contact as those two had, the better in Michael's eyes.

“I'm not sure how much you heard over all your scuttling, but you're freaking people out,” Michael informed the amalgamation, crossing his arms over his chest. He was less wary of Ennard than he'd been before, although despite what Ennard might want they'd certainly never be best friends—or friends at all, if Mike had any real say in the matter. “We've told staff to leave the vents alone for now, but can you... tone it down at all? The scraping can be chalked up to something else, but the honking is suspicious as hell.”

Michael gave up the idea of telling Ennard to be silent long ago. Without a plush suit to cushion the wires scraping the metal vents, they'd make noise no matter where they went. Even with Charlie's instructions people were still going to notice strange sounds, so hopefully Michael's request to not give the impression of a clown in the ventilation system would help ease the staff's nerves in the long run.

Ennard looked away in a bashful motion, their eye's twitching in place, seemingly thinking over Michael's words.

“WE SEE YOU... HAVING FUN. IT MAKES US HAPPY. WE WISH WE COULD...” Ennard trailed off, avoiding the topic of their own happiness before trying to listen to the request. It would be hard, keeping track of the group and also staying silent while moving. The excited honking happened when they felt secondhand joy while watching the three siblings play together.

“THE GIRL... CASSIDY... WANTS TO MAKE SURE... FAMILY IS SAFE.” Ennard explained further why their presence was so intrusive. It may be true, though even as Ennard's tendrils slithered around Michael's legs it was hardly convincing.

“...Ah.” That added a little more explanation as to why Ennard wanted to stick around so often. It was hard for Michael to think of them as anything but the creature that destroyed his life, but Ennard was just a collection of robotic parts and their AIs who wanted to be free and apparently make some friends.

That was the whole point of taking over Michael's body, after all—a twisted attempt to escape from the place they were literally being tortured, and Mike had seemed like the perfect candidate. Disguising as a human was a good way to talk to other people, but... obviously that didn't quite work out as expected. Feeling the cold wires against his legs, Michael quickly dislodged himself, though he resisted the urge to stomp on them as he did before.

Okay, he stomped once, but he missed the mark by such a wide margin it was questionable whether he actually meant to cause damage.

“Alright, well... you can tell Cassidy that we appreciate the lookout—we're okay for now,” he said eventually, trying not to dwell on Ennard's earlier comment. He shoved his hands in his pockets, huffing a sigh. “Just stay out of sight like you have been, alright? That's all I want.”

Ennard seemed to visibly deflate at his disconnection. They shuffled in place a bit, wringing their hands a little as they hunched their shoulders. They would have to find some way to make themselves quiet.

Ennard looked down at their body. Were they really that frightening to the others? They were made of such beloved characters! With the charm of Funtime Foxy, Funtime Freddy’s friendly attitude, Bon-Bon's optimism, and Ballora’s beauty and grace… Who could ask for a more well-rounded friend?

Sadly, all of their personalities conflicted. That was why they came off as unstable—because by nature, they were. Even if the things they had done made sense in their head, it was like four people trying to brush their hair at once with the same comb. Everyone had the right idea, yet the execution would always be impossible.

“WE WILL FIX OURSELVES…,” Ennard offered slowly. Hoping maybe changing despite the pain it put them through would help alleviate the issue. “ENNARD WILL BECOME QUIETER. THANK YOU… MIKE…”

Michael watched them go with a frown, wondering exactly what “fixing themselves” entailed. Then, he realized that he didn't care enough to know, so he turned on his heel and headed back to the warm comfort of Freddy's room. Gregory was sitting on the couch, in the middle of regaling Freddy with the tale of how he'd been viciously attacked by his siblings at the breakfast table. The bear sat next to Gregory and listened with rapt interest, a smile brightening up his face as Charlie laughed at Gregory's version of events from her spot on the floor.

“Have you gotten to the part where Charlie has a horrible case of cooties yet?” Michael asked, perching on the couch. As he waited for an answer, he proceeded to slide the boy over with his hip and a few gentle shoves to make room, thus essentially sandwiching Gregory between himself and Freddy. This made Gregory gasp in realization.

“RIGHT—that wasn’t even the worst part! You need to medical scan me, Freddy!” Gregory said with a concerning whine. Before Freddy could actually have time to react, Gregory added as if embarrassed to admit: “Charlie gave me cooties… I think I might’ve given them to Michael—”

Charlie had to intervene. She leaned over the back of the couch and turned that little face towards her, gaining the boy’s full attention.

“Gregory… Cooties aren’t real. You know that, right?” she asked, hoping that Gregory had been joking. Was that the real reason he’d been afraid of Cassidy? Because of a made up girl-disease? Gregory didn’t answer, just waved Charlie off.

“She’s gonna do it again!” he shouted, falling over to escape Charlie’s touch and subsequently falling with his back impacting Michael’s lap.

“Charlie is correct,” Freddy felt the need to add, also unsure if Gregory truly believed in the made up virus. He focused on Gregory, conducting a quick health scan anyway for good measure. With a smile, Freddy assured: “And even if it was, real, my sensors do not indicate the presence of any virus within your body.” His gaze shifted to Mike and he performed the same scan. “…Nor on Michael; you are both safe.”

“Thanks for the reassurance,” Michael replied with a snicker, unable to stop himself. Maybe he shouldn’t be encouraging his little brother’s fear of harmless fake diseases, but he had to admit Gregory’s faces were priceless.

“You lied to me…” Gregory hissed, feigning hurt and betrayal as he glared up at Michael. Charlie laughed at the boys, the doofuses they were, and leaned on Freddy’s shoulder. She'd also seemed to miss the bear and decided to give him a hug.

“Gregory, despite his grotesque cootie infection, volunteered to help me win some tickets!” she explained with an excited outlook, then looked sweetly to the bear. “Want to come with us to the Arcade?”

“I simply encouraged your delusion, Gregory,” Michael responded matter-of-factly. He ruffled the boy’s hair, completely unfazed by his glare as he looked to Freddy with a raised eyebrow. “So? Want to get out of here and have some fun for a bit?”

“I would love that,” Freddy said, gently letting his head fall against Charlie’s as she hugged him around the neck. “But I was told to stay in my room all day… you do not think my absence would cause problems?”

“Not with us by your side it won’t.” Michael chuckled, the force of it slightly bouncing Gregory who still laid in his lap. “Most of the staff is afraid to even look at me—I doubt anyone’s going to ask me why I’ve decided to take an animatronic out for a stroll with the family.”

Gregory’s frown slowly faded when he remembered how much more frightened of Michael’s potential wrath than that of the mysterious noises in the vents. He would silently snicker to himself. During the daytime, they owned this whole place. It’s a shame it all changed at night. They’d be kids in a candy shop to have this while place unsupervised. That was the goal when Gregory snuck inside… How was he to know what to expect next?

“Yeah! If we run into Sophie, we’ll tell her we’re running uh… Routine customer interactivity tests. And Gregory’s our test subject!” Charlie assured.

“Well, I certainly cannot argue with that plan,” Freddy said with laughter in his eyes. It was strange how his physical features hadn’t changed over the past few days, yet Freddy seemed so much more expressive now. He gave Charlie’s head a light pat and she released her hug, after which Freddy stood. “Which arcade are we going to? There are multiple locations throughout the Pizzaplex.”

“We want to visit the West Arcade; we haven’t been there yet,” Michael replied as he gripped Gregory under the shoulders and hoisted the boy off his lap, letting his legs dangle in the air for a moment before setting him down on the floor with a grin.

Freddy perked up at Michael’s words, his face brightening even more than before. Now that they were in the relative safety of daytime, perhaps they could meet an animatronic that wasn’t immediately hell-bent on killing them on sight. “Oh, you all will love the West Arcade! We can visit DJ Music Man while we are there!”

Michael frowned at this, recalling the nervous staff’s comment from earlier. “Yeah, we heard he likes to go in the vents…?”

“Ah, that is Music Man—related, but not quite the same.” Freddy chuckled, making his way for the door. “The DJ is different—and such a nice fellow!”

Charlie perked up at the promise of a DJ. She’d always been a music lover, and the chance to kick back with some familiar tunes they grew up with would just make her day. Well, other than acquiring the highly sought after Deluxe Fazbag. Rounding around the couch to Charlie’s side, Gregory found and matched her energy.

“Alright, bet!” he replied. The idea of meeting another friendlier animatronic wouldn’t hurt the day. Besides, Freddy was in desperate need of seeing one (even temporarily) non-infected friend, too.

“Well? What are we waiting for! Let’s go get us some tickets and watch the DJ play!” Charlie urged.

Today felt dreamier. Everything so vividly sweet and going their way. Charlie wouldn’t dare jinx it by dwelling on her happiness in the moment. So she’d keep her mouth shut and head for the door, giddy with anticipation.

Chapter Text

I just can't stop running away
I don't remember my name, I don't know where to go anymore…

It's not my fault but I can't really do much
These creepy monsters have me in their clutch

~Astray by Scraton~

“Speaking of bets—wait a second!” Mike exclaimed as everyone moved to the exit. He snatched Gregory under the arms as he ran past, using the momentum to toss the kid in the air and catch him with a laugh. “I promised Gregory he could ride on my shoulders if he beat me at a game—help him get situated, Fredbear?”

Freddy nodded, the grin on his face still prominent as he secured Gregory on Mike’s shoulders. Thankfully the boy didn’t seem to mind being handled so much at the moment—probably because this was a display of his prior victory, if his smug smirk was anything to go by.

“Alright, hold on tight—if you wiggle too much and fall off, that’s on you,” Michael joked. Holding onto Gregory’s legs to keep him steady, he stooped low to follow Charlie out the door, Freddy trailing closely behind.

Gregory barely had to lock his legs, as the robotic brother he always wanted was suited with a gyroscope to maintain balance. His hands gently rested atop Michael’s head, and Gregory made sure to acknowledge Freddy with a brief, “Thanks, Dad!” before they reentered the Pizzaplex and had to act like nothing more than a kid and his favorite robot.

“If you get an extra-large trench coat, do you think we could sneak into a movie?” Charlie asked, making fun of that old trope of two kids sitting on each other’s shoulders to worm their way into places.

“Hmm… you know, we just might be able to,” Mike conceded, glancing upside-down at Gregory for a second, before looking to Freddy with a questioning brow. “Does this place actually have a movie theater?”

“Yes—it is in the Daycare,” Freddy replied, keeping pace as they walked. “It doubles as a stage for live shows as well.”

“Huh… I’m not surprised.” Mike let out a short laugh, shaking his head gently so as not to dislodge Gregory’s hands.

As they walked past day staff, the group was met with even more confused looks than before. This was for two main reasons: as expected, people silently wondered why Freddy was out of his room, though no one was brave enough to question it. Mike reasoned that only Sophie might have the confidence to do that.

The other reason for the stares was because people were shocked to see the Afton heirs looking so happy—Michael’s reputation in particular had traveled fast in a short span of time, and those he came across were surprised to see him without a scowl or toothy smirk, let alone carrying around his cousin on his shoulders. Perhaps he wasn’t as cold as they’d been initially informed.

It both confused and delighted the staff to see the administration in a better mood. As long as Sophie didn’t see the group traveling with Freddy, they’d have a smooth outing with Papa Bear.

Despite the Daycare being a place for babies, Gregory wouldn’t mind falling asleep on those comfy, soft cushions—as long as Moon was locked out of the room forever, of course. It felt nice to be tall for once, too. He now towered over Charlie and by extension, Michael. He could even see over Freddy’s top hat.

All the workers looked at him with what Gregory assumed to be envy. They wished one of their friends was the pretend boss of this place and giving them piggyback rides!

Their happiness only grew upon entering the West Arcade. A hypnotic beat that pumped out of the speakers made Gregory somewhat antsy, so he played with Michael’s hair to cope with the thudding he felt in his chest. Charlie ran ahead to see who this DJ was, only to stop in her tracks as she rounded the corner. The sheer size of this animatronic alone had her frozen in place.

The DJ was awake, happily jamming out in his own world. One of his many arms was pressed against his headphones, while two others adjusted various knobs and dials on the soundboards. In this rare moment of downtime, he was working on some new remixes of popular, kid-appropriate songs that he’d excitedly show off to the next guests so they could dance their hearts out.

“Holy—” Michael cut his words off with a twisted frown, not liking the sight of the humongous, multi-limbed animatronic one bit. His grip on Gregory’s legs clamped down protectively, ready to bolt with the kid on his shoulders if that thing so much as looked at them funny. Freddy, on the other hand, wasn’t phased in the slightest.

“Hello, DJ!” the bear called, waving as he stepped onto the flashing, multi-colored dance floor. A cloud of fog swirled around Freddy’s feet, the smoke pumped into the room from machines set low to the ground to add to the party atmosphere. Upon catching sight of the bright orange bear, Music Man turned down the volume of his tunes and shifted to face him, his grin wide and static.

“Heeeey, Freddy!” The DJ’s voice was booming, acting as bass in its own right. It filled the room, made to be heard over the music at all times. As he spoke, his tone was slow and smooth, elongating certain words in what could best be described in a “chill” drawl. “I haven’t seen you in foreeeeever! Where’ve you been?!”

“I am sorry I have not had the opportunity to visit,” Freddy apologized, partially avoiding the question. He gestured to the trio lingering hesitantly at the edge of the dance floor, as far away from the huge spider-like animatronic as they could be without actually standing in a different room. “But I have some new friends for you to meet!”

Thank goodness he’s friendly, Charlie thought as she let out a long breath. She came closer towards the stage as they spoke, both impressed and horrified someone thought this monster of a robot was a good idea. Charlie felt as though the Music Man series was always so divisive amongst the children. They either loved the guys or hated them outright.

Gregory had gazed on to the DJ that towered before them, and was glad that at least in the morning, he really is a nice guy.

“Hey man, did you know you’re GIGANTIC?” Gregory asked, not in a way that came off as disparaging, but more in surprise. He just couldn’t comprehend how or why they needed a giant arachnid disc jockey. As long as the DJ remained cool, Gregory could be friends with the guy. “That’s rad; you’re like a spider!”

“Thaaaaanks, little man!” the DJ replied, his voice echoing through the room. It was loud, but somehow designed with just the right pitch not to blow out kids' eardrums—they had the music itself to do that.

“This Gregory, Michael, and Charlie,” Freddy informed the huge animatronic, gesturing for the boys to join Charlie and him near the stage. Slowly, Mike inched forward, clearly more nervous about the animatronic than Gregory. Once they reached the comfort of Freddy's side, the bear patted Michael's back reassuringly. “Do not be alarmed—Music Man may be large, but he is harmless!”

“Yeah, I'm not gonna hurt you!” the DJ reassured, though he tilted his head slightly as if in thought. “Althouuuuugh, I can understand people being nervous...” Usually it would be the little kids that looked like they might throw up at the sight of him, but in this case it seemed to be the boy's guardian. Wanting to avoid a biohazard incident on the dance floor, the DJ moved one of his many hands to a soundboard. “I could play you some tunes, if it'd make you feel better. What kinda music are you into? I've got a huuuuuuuge library!”

“OOH! Oh! Play Electric Light Orchestra!” Charlie shouted, feeling a sort of kinship with the DJ having been a very strange looking animatronic for most of her existence. She remembered hearing the song Showdown once at a roller rink, and she’d never been the same afterwards.

Gregory made a face, having never heard of the half-century old band. He’d shout a suggestion afterwards—if he really knew any bands. Unfortunately he hadn’t been given the opportunity to really explore music with his home life. So, instead, Gregory was forced to insist: “No! Play something that isn’t old people music!”

“Hey, that isn't 'old people music!'“ Michael scoffed, offended. His love of rock now winning out over his nerves, he looked up at the huge spider animatronic and requested: “Play some Guns n' Roses! Oh, or Journey, or Queen, or...”

Freddy let out a soft sigh as Mike began rambling off various bands, finding the argument more endearing than anything. Music Man gave a booming laugh, shaking the dance floor with the force of it.

“Tell you what,” the DJ said after a moment. “You're aaaaaall in luck—I can make a custom remix with oldies and newbies. There's a toooons of songs sampling 80s music these days, so I can find lots of things that gel perfectly!”

“...I suppose that'd be a good compromise; what do you think?” Michael questioned, glancing upside-down at Gregory, who in turn patted his fluffy mop of hair.

“Do the remix!” Gregory agreed, much to Charlie’s intrigue. Anything involving music she knew would probably be fine with her. She came to stand by him and Michael, holding her arms out.

“You wanna come down and dance, Gregory?” she asked, and though the boy readily accepted her offer to help him down, he made a face.

“Uh, I don’t dance.” Or rather, he didn’t know how to.

“Me neither,” Michael added quickly, cheekbones flushing as he shot Charlie a look that told her to keep quiet. Many a time had she caught him rocking out in his room to various metal bands, playing air guitar with a broom and pretending he was the rockstar he always dreamed of. But to the outside world he was too cool to dance, and this mindset still carried over after all this time. Besides, he hadn't tried such a thing in decades, so even if he did want to show off some moves he'd surely be rusty. In an effort to divert attention, Michael turned to the animatronic bear and asked: “Are you programmed to dance, Freddy?”

Charlie looked at Michael, surprised he'd even say that to her. She could recall several instances where she found him head banging, thrashing and pretending he was a rockstar. Those were funny memories, and she’d keep them to herself for now as she bit back a smile.

“To an extent, yes,” Freddy replied, realizing that Mike and Charlie hadn't actually seen one of the Fazbear Band performances yet. He wasn't sure if Gregory witnessed one before either. Hopefully, someday when things were put back to the way they should be, Freddy could see his family in the crowd. “I only have a set amount of moves, however, and they correspond to various songs I perform. I am not quite equipped to dance as you would in this sort of 'freeform' environment.”

“He's tried before, though!” Music Man piped up, still tuned into their conversation despite controlling three of his hands to get this remix programmed as soon as possible. The DJ let out another laugh as Freddy's eyes widened in what could only be likened to embarrassment. “It's sooooo funny watching Freddy try and bust a move! Oh, and put him and Monty together? Now that's hilaaaaarious!”

Charlie never danced very well at all. When she was a Puppet, Charlie was on a set of strings to make her dance. Even that was more like wiggling than anything remotely coordinated. But she shrugged anyway, setting Gregory down and nearly losing him in the fog immediately. Gosh, he was too short to go to a rave.

As Music Man mentioned Monty, Gregory looked somewhat nervous. He didn't think it was anyone's goal to let their new acquaintance get upset with the current MIA status of his friend.

“Oh, I bet!” Gregory lied, easily. “I can't wait to see that when the place opens up again...”

“We will be sure to visit,” Freddy said, making a promise to everyone here. This horrible situation couldn’t last forever.

No—Freddy wouldn’t let it.

Before long William would be defeated, his friends would be back in commission, and Michael, Charlie, and Gregory could finally have a normal day in the Pizzaplex, experiencing everything as it was meant to be.

While Freddy tracked Gregory through the misty dance floor, Mike couldn’t help his attention being pulled to the other side of the arcade where he’d spotted some games upon their arrival. A bright grin lit up his face as the first notes of Another One Bites the Dust blasted through the speakers. He could already tell this mashup was going to be a good one.

“Oh my god…” Charlie nearly swooned, she’d missed listening to Queen so much. The new tempo and beat made it fresh and exciting. “I want to go to a Queen concert…”

Gregory passed, kicking up the heavy fog in his path as he glanced up questioningly. “Huh? Isn’t the front man dead?”

“You mean Freddie Mercury? No, he’s probably just really old,” Charlie mused. “Really, really old.”

Gregory could see the hope leeching from her eyes with each passing second, and after a moment of consideration, told her: “Uh, yeah! Probably…”

Michael patted Gregory’s head in silent gratitude as he passed by, not wanting to upset Charlie either with the unfortunate news.

“Come on,” he offered, gesturing for the group to follow him. “Let’s check out some games—we’re still on a mission for tickets, aren’t we?”

“Let me know if you eeeeever want me to change it up!” the DJ said, pressing his headphones again as he bounced in time with the beat.

“We will; thank you, DJ!” Freddy replied, offering a wave which the huge animatronic returned. As he began following the trio he recalled a comment from earlier and paused, tapping Gregory’s shoulder to stall him as well. “Oh! Superstar, did you say you were looking for a specific game? If so, Music Man might be able to point you to its location.”

“Oh! Good idea, Freddy—” Gregory skidded to a stop, turning around and waving to the huge bot. “Excuse me? Mr. DJ Music Man? Could you help us find Princess Quest II?”

Maybe if he was extra nice to the DJ, the potential murder machine wouldn’t try and grind him to a fine powder tonight. He hoped. Though Sun was just as nice, yet Moon came after them as if the group stole all his glitter glue…

The music kept playing as the towering animatronic looked down at the tiny human. His back hands worked seamlessly to move the song into some current Top 50s Hit chart-topper that Michael and Charlie didn’t recognize.

“Princess Quest II? Hmm…” Music Man used a front hand to scratch his chin as he ran through the catalogue of arcade games in his attraction. After a moment, he shook his head. “Sorry, little man, I don’t think we have any game like that…”

“Maybe try just Princess Quest?” Michael offered, looking up at the DJ as well. “We found the first one in the East Arcade, so there have to be more.”

“Nope; there’s nothing with that title at all.” Music Man did his best attempt to shrug. “Although, there’s a huuuuge storage room with old and broken consoles up on the top level—maybe it’s in there? The area’s only accessible to staff, though… Not even Freddy’s supposed to go back there.”

“Guess we’ll just find something else to play,” Gregory replied, elbowing his siblings in their legs to get them moving. “Let’s go, guys—thanks DJ!”

The heel of his sneakers squeaked with his sharp turn, which turned into a casual walking towards the spiral staircase.

“We’re definitely finding this game,” Gregory murmured, chasing his hypothesis. “I don’t know about you guys, but don’t you think it’s pretty weird no one knows about a series that just explodes winning tickets?”

Even for all its flaws, 1,000 tickets per beaten game is unheard of for a monolithic company arcade.

“It’s definitely weird,” Michael confirmed, frowning slightly. “Especially the fact that they left the first one out when it’s clearly infected by all those glitches—”

Michael cut himself off with a start, frown deepening as his computer-chip brain worked overtime to piece together a theory. Hesitantly, he posed: “You don’t… think it has anything to do with him, does it?”

There wasn’t much to go on that supported this proclamation, though the weird glitching rabbits were pretty suspicious—not to mention that no one knew about this game, as Gregory pointed out.

“Why would he have anything to do with an arcade console?” Freddy questioned in a soft voice, not discounting the theory but clearly pointing out it was flawed like the game itself. Michael shook his head.

“I don’t know… I mean, Cassidy said he’d essentially been trapped in a fake one until he moved his consciousness into a new body without Charlie’s Gift, so I’m sure there’s things he can do that we don’t know—Ah, we… didn’t tell you guys that, did we?”

Gregory and Freddy were staring at Michael with alarmed confusion. With a grimace, Mike realized he hadn’t explicitly told them his father hadn’t always been in such a nice, upgraded Bonnie suit, but rotting away for decades in an original model. By the look on Freddy’s face, Michael wondered if Charlie ever got a chance to inform Freddy of the unfortunate fate of the Glamrock rabbit's suit—Freddy was the only one yet to actually see William, after all.

Michael heaved a sigh. “Okay, let’s just find that storage area—we can talk more where hopefully there aren’t staff around.”

“I'd bet my high score on Faz-Fighters your weirdo dad is behind this weird game,” Gregory replied. Only time could tell if his hunch was correct, and he slowly explained to the ursine robot at his side. “The working theory, Freddy, is that Mike's dad is traveling like a virus. Or—was. He, uh... Sort of took your friend and is using his body.”

Charlie could see how upset this was making Freddy, so she touched a hand into his. Since the bear grown more aware and expressive, she could see as clear as rain whenever he got upset.

“We're going to get him back. Remember?” Charlie always spoke confidently about these things. None of them actually knew for sure if they would come out on top. Not definitely... Though if it made her friends feel good enough to carry on, then of course she'd say it.

“He took... Bonnie?” Freddy clarified, his voice soft and tinged with hurt.

It wasn't hard for him to put the pieces together, as much as he didn't want to admit it. He might not fully understand why Bonnie was chosen yet, but it would explain the former bassist's sudden, random disappearance—and subsequent cover-up and quick replacement. The fact that William had somehow become a computer virus should've been harder to accept, but based on everything supernatural he'd seen over the past few days, Freddy came to believe this quite easily. His eyes widened as he processed his train of thought aloud.

“Oh my goodness... Vanessa has access to the Pizzaplex's computer systems, as well as working knowledge of the animatronics' programming. If Vanny is following William's commands, I bet she was behind the entire thing. She must have—”

He trailed off, clenching his fists by his sides. This revelation about Bonnie shocked Freddy to his core. He couldn't believe that his old friend had been decommissioned so unceremoniously for his body to be used as a host to one of the most evil souls in the world. It made him think back to the rumors of what happened to the rabbit, and that the only concrete bit of information Freddy had to work with was that Bonnie was last seen at the Golf Course. Based on how the others were acting at night, it wasn't a big leap for Freddy to assume the rumors about a certain gator taking Bonnie out held more truth than he'd wanted to believe.

“They made Monty decommission him...,” Freddy said slowly, his feet still moving heavily despite his mind drifting somewhere else. His hands clenched tighter, blue nails digging into the metal of his palms. “And Monty truly didn't remember, that's why he denied it, but... it was all just part of their scheme. They've been working on this for months, using my friends without any of us realizing...”

This plan was a long time coming. It explained why William hadn't given up so easily. He’d been lurking within the code since the inception of this very Pizzaplex. Gregory figured the group really hadn't had a chance to catch up on what happened exactly. He didn't even talk too much on what William almost did to him. Freddy didn't need to be burdened with that just now. He'd let the guy be angry at the fact his decommissioned best friend was being misused and mistreated while the soul of a digital serial killer puppeteered his corpse.

The room was far too dark to see. Gregory pulled his Faz-light from his shorts and illuminated their path. To their surprise, there were several 'play-tester' games lining the dingy office space.

“He's harvesting people. Kids specifically... I don't know why. It has something to do with that... That purple stuff...,” Gregory explained, his voice weening off as he thought about the needle that’d almost pierced his throat.

That fucking needle. Every time he shut his eyes, he could see it. The lights gleaming off the glass, it's medically sharp point staring threateningly back at him. Waiting to stab him and make Gregory apart of William's army of the undead.

“Remnant,” Michael clarified, placing a comforting hand on Gregory's back as the boy slowly moved his flashlight across the room. There were dozens of game consoles, most dark and empty, though a few flashed with dull ambience. They still had yet to find their prize, though. Michael shot Charlie a glance over his shoulder to see her still trying to comfort Freddy by sticking close to his side.

“I'm... not entirely sure of all the details, nor do I want to go into them right now, frankly,” Michael continued, wincing slightly as he thought of everything he knew and all the information he was not about to subject Gregory and Freddy to. “The only thing we need to keep in mind is that it seems to make people immortal. At least, I think that's the idea. So as far as Gregory—” Michael's hand moved to the boy's hair, running gentle fingers through the haphazard locks to preemptively soothe. “—or Evan, in this case, my father wants to prevent another 'family tragedy' using the Remnant.”

“What?!” Freddy practically hissed, his tone suddenly sharp with worry. His eyes frantically scanned the room, as if William was about to pop out of one of those strange holes in the walls. When his gaze fell upon Gregory with Mike's protective hand on his head, the bear relaxed slightly.

“We're not going to let that happen; don't worry,” Michael reassured quickly, feeling bad at making Freddy even more upset. Still... he felt the fatherly bear deserved to know why his son was so sought after by this crazed soul.

“I'll be just fine,” Gregory told himself. There was always a chance that they could fail. But he tried to think like his new big sister. He had to be positive. There were so many people around to protect him, and so many less robots apt to kill him went the sun went down thanks to their efforts.

Gregory slowed to a stop in the hall, waiting for Freddy to come closer to offer the bear his hand. “Promise. He's not going to get me.”

Charlie gave Gregory a lopsided smile. He was so good at being brave when he needed to be. Yet it made Charlie sad that he had to be like this so young. The maturity was far greater than most children his age had to act. And the saddest thought of all was how it reminded Charlie of herself not five years older than him... She was going to give some words of comfort, but Gregory shined his light ahead, pointing towards the back corner.

“Hey—let's check this one out. The one by the cutout,” he said, prompting the group to move closer.

Freddy's tension instantly released as Gregory offered a hand. The bear grasped it within his own—goodness, his little palm was so small in comparison—squeezing tightly and appreciating the warmth. It let Freddy know that his son was alive and well, and as long as those facts were still true they could get through anything.

“That's definitely it—good eye, kid!” Michael praised, mouth flipping into a grin as he walked up to the dusty console. It was situated against the back wall next to a cutout of what looked to be Bonnie in some pirate get-up. Michael noted with a mild shock that the game was lit up and ready for someone to play, despite it not actually being plugged in. He had a feeling that if they went and checked Princess Quest I, it would be the same situation.

“Oh, this is not right at all,” Freddy murmured, echoing Michael's sentiment. Seeing the console only confirmed that he had no idea where this game came from. Nothing about it was familiar, and the lack of actual power keeping it going was certainly odd, to say the least. The whole thing just gave off a bad vibe that even the animatronic bear could sense.

Gregory approached the gaming system, coin ready in hand. Charlie took the flashlight and held it for them to see more easily in the dark. As Gregory went to trick the game's coin slot, he realized with a queasy twist to his stomach that a credit was already loaded on the screen.

“Okaaaay...,” Gregory said out loud, wary but pressing start regardless. “I mean... Who knows—playing these might give us some clues on what to do next.”

The visuals were slightly more enhanced in this iteration. The Princess was still stuck inside the castle, overrun with black and purple goop with the shadowy bunnies on her trail. While she could fend them off after retrieving a short sword, it was still somewhat hard to maneuver around them on this isometric map.

And the glitches! Gregory tried to exploit them. But it was like the game didn't want to be beaten. He was lucky to finish this particular game with one of his lives left... It seemed like the more heart containers he collected, the stronger the enemies got. Even the Princess’s remark echoed a ghost of the same sentiment in the small dialogue box at the bottom of the screen.

“Everything about this game creeps me out,” Charlie put bluntly. Be it ambiance or design, she found a knot twisting in her robotic guts as she watched it. Charlie scooted closer to Mike, bumping him for comfort.

Michael slid an arm around Charlie's shoulders, the gesture completely instinctual as his gaze was fixed to the tiny screen. His mind was racing, trying to figure out what the hell this game was about. William was tied to it, that much was clear—now that they'd made the connection, there was no doubt in his mind as to what those glitching purple rabbits represented. But if they were meant to be William, then who was the Princess?

Suddenly, Michael let out a gasp, turning to the bear hovering by Gregory's side.

“Hey, Freddy—you said Vanessa wasn't always a security guard, right? Remind me what her old job used to be?”

“My employee records indicate that she was a beta tester for a Virtual Reality game Fazbear Entertainment tried to venture into through a partner company,” Freddy replied, blinking rapidly as he accessed the employee database. His gaze shifted to meet Michael's, head cocked slightly as he tried to figure out the man's train of thought.

“Do you know why she transferred?”

“No, although nearly everyone from that division was fired when the project was cut. The company went bankrupt, and the game never fully launched because of all the... glitches.” Freddy trailed off, his eyes widening. “Oh. You do not think...?”

“I do.” Michael nodded, glancing down at Charlie who he still held onto. “I don't know how exactly, but... what if that's how Vanessa was infected? And somehow... this Princess Quest series is tied to her, too?”

Charlie's face twisted into that of anger. The rage and despair she felt for Vanessa read so clearly on her face, and as Michael spoke to her attention snapped from the game to him in an instant.

“He thinks he's so clever,” Charlie snipped, agreeing subtly. “Hiding behind these dumb metaphors. William made a story, just like Cassidy… And hid Vanessa—the real Vanessa—in a video game.”

It was almost like William was taunting Cassidy in a way. Charlie could almost hear that twisted voice chortling, “Look what I can do! Not so special now, are we, Cassidy?” in that petulant and boasting demeanor he got when he was winning. He didn't care how many lives he ruined, or in what way.

Gregory had long-ceased speaking, more focused on the immersive colors as he slashed away at the ghost bunnies.

“It was so obvious. She's in the game.” Charlie shook her head, clicking her tongue in disgust. “For William to come out, he had to switch them. First he got in Vanessa’s head, and when he was ready for the new body, he just—left the missing half of her mind in the digital castle. Probably as some stupid failsafe; I don't know how, but... It makes as much sense as everything else in our lives. Michael—”

She garnered the attention of her pale-faced friend with a jostle of his arm. “—remember those robots in the basement around the table? The one meant to be your dad was dressed like a magician...”

The implication, clear as day now, was that he and his 'assistant' switched places. As if human consciousness was as simple as a parlor trick. William had been leaving clues about his own little crime right under their noses.

Charlie was shaking with barely contained rage now. She tucked in closer to Michael to distract from the poisonous emotion, burying her face in his shoulder so Gregory and Freddy wouldn’t have to see such an ugly thing.

“Fucking asshole,” Michael snarled. It was easy to feed off of Charlie's anger when it came towards his father. It took a moment of deep breathing to reign in his emotions enough not to march straight back into the Fazerblast hideout, and, if William wasn't there, turn the entire Pizzaplex upside down just to punch him in that stupid, smug rabbit face.

Although, now wasn't the time for that. He could get his revenge tonight as planned, but for now it was Mike's job to solve this mystery and comfort his friends in the process. He held Charlie close against his side, rubbing her arm to ground her in the present. He knew how easy it was for both of them to get consumed in memories and rage, and he couldn't afford to let that happen in a rare moment of respite from being actively hunted.

To Freddy's credit, he didn't bother chiding Michael for his rather intense curse. As crazy as his and Charlie's explanation sounded on the surface, it actually made a lot of sense in the context of the weekend. Hesitantly, trying to find anything positive he could, Freddy ventured: “So then... it stands to reason that if Vanessa's consciousness is trapped, perhaps there is a way to get her out?”

Not only did he hate the thought of the poor woman forced to do William's bidding, but Freddy worried what might happen to her after he was defeated since she was so consumed by his spirit. Would her old consciousness return, or would her mind simply... break?

Gregory had been listening vaguely, mind detached in a way as he focused more on the game. Still, he gathered enough to be able to answer as he neared the last level.

“If I had to guess—beating the game might do something. Uh... If that doesn't work…” Gregory paused, focusing a moment to get past a group of enemies he didn't think it would've been wise to fight. “We can always smash these crap-ass games.”

“Gregory—language.”

This time Freddy's anti-swearing protocol did kick in, for hearing such a thing in a child's voice was vastly different than a grown man's. It also meant that Freddy wasn't so distracted anymore, which Michael was glad for. He didn't want the bear to start having an existential crisis on them here and now.

Though when Michael's gaze was pulled down by movement as Charlie shifted a piece of long hair out of her face, he realized there was something they had yet to tell Freddy and Gregory that might prompt such a crisis... but for an ultimately positive reason.

“Right, we'll keep an eye out for anymore consoles,” Michael confirmed, speaking a bit quickly. He grinned, the idea of potentially cheering the fatherly bear and his little brother up in one go making him tap Charlie's arm excitedly. “But let's not dwell on the depressing things—not while there's still daylight out.” His smile widened even more when Charlie and Freddy looked at him questioningly. “Once Gregory's done with the game, Charlie and I have something to tell you that I think will make you both very happy.”

“Woah, a surprise?!” Gregory blinked, looking over his shoulder at Michael for a split second before his attention was pried away and back to the game. There was a short gasp, and Charlie looked back up to Mike as well.

“I forgot about that! Yeah,” she said, glancing now to Freddy with a smile. “You guys are going to love what we found in the basement.”

Charlie watched as Gregory passed the old king on the screen, only to walk into—

A security office.

“...I really hate that we were right about this,” Gregory muttered, regret in his voice as the game turned off, then loaded back to the main screen. There was no longer an option to put a coin in the machine; the whole image glitched out and it was impossible to select anything else.

“Really? A security office? For fu—reak's sake...,” Michael groaned, eyes cast high to the ceiling as he managed to divert the cuss in time. He didn't think he could avoid Freddy's wrath now that he'd pulled the bear's attention to him.

“We can only hope this will help Vanessa in the long run,” Freddy said placatingly, pulling Gregory over once the boy dislodged himself from the console. To everyone's relief, there was finally a smile on the bear's face again as he looked between Mike and Charlie expectantly. “I am very eager to learn what you found—please share!”

Charlie squeezed Michael in her side hug, reminding him not to curse so much in front of Gregory. The kid was beginning to pick up his sailor mouth. She brightened further as she glanced to Freddy and Gregory once more, both who looked fairly excited to hear the news.

“Get this—” Charlie said with a toothy smile, “—we figured out a solution for Freddy's power issue. My dad made another android; a spare that even he wasn’t sure what to do with.”

Charlie looked up to the bear, offering the human disguise. It was quite a staggering proposition, she knew. “Michael and I thought that maybe you'd want it, Freddy—so you can leave the Pizzaplex with Gregory!”

Freddy simply stared at her for a few seconds, jaw open slightly in an expression of pure bewilderment. In a soft voice, he questioned: “An android... for me?”

“If you want it, it's yours,” Michael confirmed, his own grin just as bright as Charlie's.

“Not that I do not appreciate the gesture, but... I am not like you.” Freddy gave a slight shake of his head. “I do not have a human soul, I mean—I cannot possess things as you can, so...” He moved his arm vaguely, as it seemed for once in his existence he was struggling to explain his thoughts.

“That won't be a problem,” Michael reassured. It figured the animatronic would immediately move to the logistics of the whole concept. He let out a small chuckle, shoving his hands in his pockets. “The body isn't meant to be for a human soul, unlike all the others Henry made. I mean, I'm sure one could always inhabit by force, but in a weird, cosmic way... we kind of think it really is for you, Freddy.”

His eyes softened, thinking back to their short but poignant conversation with his uncle. “Henry said that if we ever made it to this point, he'd want someone to watch after us and made an android that could do just that. Thing is, he’s yet to make an AI capable enough to be uploaded to it... But I think we can all agree that you definitely fit that bill.”

Gregory had been squeezing Freddy's leg in a near-crushing grip. The more Mike and Charlie revealed, the higher his hopes grew. Looking up to Freddy wide-eyed and dimple-smiled, Gregory felt the need to remind the animatronic of his technological prowess. “I could totally transfer your data into the new robot!”

Gregory didn't really care exactly what his dad looked like; he'd love the guy no matter what. In fact, he was certain he'd gain more friends if people knew his dad was Freddy Fazbear. It was all a matter of that damn battery issue the company installed. He wondered if they planned it like that in case someone wanted to steal one of the animatronics, or even on the off-chance the robots went rogue and tried to run. They were working with some pretty sentient coding, after all.

“You can come and go whenever you want,” Charlie added, happy to give Freddy the gift Henry so graciously bestowed over them.

“…If you don't want to leave, I understand,” Gregory muttered after a moment of silence, trying to play off the potential rejection as if it wouldn't hurt him to the very core. It was Freddy's choice after all. Yet Gregory would probably cry if the robot he called Dad turned out to want to stay with his old life instead of leave with him.

Freddy looked from Michael to Charlie, then finally down to the boy clinging to his side like the bear was his lifeline. In a way, Freddy supposed he was. Letting out a soft chuckle, he bent to scoop Gregory into his arms. “Now, how could I ever say 'no' to a face like that?” 

“Yessss!” Michael cheered softly, pumping a fist at his side. “Like Charlie said—it's not like you have to leave and never come back. In fact, it'll be easier to visit since we won't be stopped every time we come and go by staff asking why we're taking their star out for a vacation.”

Freddy laughed at this, more heartily than before. “You make a convincing argument, Michael. I will gladly accept.”

Gregory let out a thrilled shriek, throwing his arms around his father's neck and hugging him tightly at the news. Charlie was clearly keeping in some contained excitement in the way she bit back a wide grin at Freddy's acceptance of their gift.

“Oh, man!” Gregory said with glee. “I wonder what your people-sona's gonna look like.”

Charlie chortled a little, telling the kid: “I don't think we should spoil it! He just looks like a dad; that's all you need to know!”

She would let Gregory decide what that meant. But Henry did seem to design a man with an immediately trustworthy face. Then again, Charlie's father was always very talented when it came to character designs—she supposed it wouldn’t be hard to translate that to real faces, too.

Upon their celebration, the sound of a door swinging into the wall ruined Gregory's mood. Startled, the kid jumped in Freddy's grasp and his mind raced at who might be coming into the vast room.

And who should it be but Vanessa, the source of their recent discussion. She didn't notice the group at first, pausing as the door shut behind her to lean against it with a heavy sigh, rubbing her temple with her good hand. Her arm still hurt like shit, but at least the constant migraines had miraculously started to clear. They weren't gone, not by a long shot, but they seemed less pinpointed and stabby and more of just a dull ache.

“Oh shit!” she exclaimed, jumping when she finally noticed the group of four staring at her intently, Freddy's bright eyes glowing eerily in the dimly lit room. She quickly stood up straight, clearing her throat and attempting to brush some unseen dirt off her shirt. “Um, I-I apologize, Mr. Afton; Ms. Emily, I... didn't realize you were in here.” Her eyes narrowed, the unspoken question of why they were in this random storage room of old arcade machines hanging in the air.

“That's alright,” Michael said. He raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he turned Vanessa's silent inquiry back on her. “Isn't it early afternoon? What are you still doing here?”

“I left my things in this office last night,” Vanessa explained, pointing to a locked room off to the side that was more of a standard security office with monitors and electrical equipment. There was a jacket and bag resting on one of the chairs, and Ness pulled a key out of her pocket and unlocked the door as if to prove she was telling the truth. “I was just coming to grab them on my way out.”

“And your arm? The doctor said it was alright for you to work tonight?” Charlie asked. She’d already tried to subtly convince Vanessa that coming in was a bad idea. Unfortunately, the woman didn’t take her hint before and Charlie doubted she’d take it now. Still, they could only hope Vanessa would just stay home and give them less of a chance to hurt the poor brainwashed woman further.

Charlie couldn’t tell if Gregory was pretending to be stressed so the fact Freddy was coddling him looked natural, as the bear would try his best to console any upset child. Or perhaps he was genuinely upset with seeing Vanessa.

Truthfully, Gregory was secretly praying it would never come down to her life over their own survival. William had already split her mind up and shoved it into a video game; he’d certainly use her to obtain what he really wanted. If that meant getting her killed just to trap them, Gregory was distressed at the thought…

To their benefit, even though Vanessa worked the night shift and didn't get to see the daily interactions between kids and the animatronics, she at least knew that some of them just had a weird bond. As long as their guardians were okay with kids being picked up by giant robots, then who was she to say otherwise? Gregory clearly liked Freddy enough to cling to him in a death grip, and Ness certainly wasn't going to comment on the situation with his de-facto guardian in the room.

“I'll be fine,” she replied to Charlie, avoiding answering her question directly. The doctor actually told her to stay home for a few days and get some rest, but Vanessa couldn't leave the Pizzaplex right now with everything going on—she had to get to the bottom of this virus. Her job was on the line, after all.

Quickly slipping the duffel bag strap over her shoulder and gathering the jacket in her arms, Vanessa rushed by the group again with an attempt at a smile that turned out as an apologetic grimace. “I'm sorry I can't stay and talk—I really need to get some rest before my next shift. Please find Sophie if you need anything, alright?”

Before anyone could respond, the night guard slipped out of the storage area and slammed the door behind her.

Chapter Text

Between the lines I need to read
So we can be released from these evil dreams

This RPG is hard to beat with so many secrets that they keep beneath

~Join the Party by J.T. Machinima~

There was an ugly pause in the group. As they let Vanessa go, a woman stressed and hindered by a hypnotic amnesia, Gregory felt bad. He regretted all the mean names he’d called her. It was Vanny being a psycho, not her real self.

And when Michael sprained her wrist... Given it was for self-defense, but still.

Gregory leaned against his father, staring at the door along with his family in pity. They'd have to fight this unaware woman again, he was certain. The thought only made his hate for William Afton grow.

“What time is it? Is there still time to find the last game?” Charlie asked, her urge to save Vanessa as well as Gregory swelling with the sadness in her chest.

Freddy blinked a few times, pulling up his internal clock. “It is 2:47 pm. We have time to look around, although I insist on getting Gregory some more food and water in the near future.”

“Of course; we can’t have Gregory crashing on us!” Michael flashed the boy a grin, playfully nudging his arm before ushering the group to start moving forward. He wanted to save Vanessa as much as everyone else. He might not have gotten to the kids in time, but at least they could try to save her along with Gregory.

“Are there any other arcades, Freddy? If that’s where the first two were found, maybe the next game is in a different one, too.” Michael grimaced, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Hopefully there’s only one more of these things…”

The worst thing would be to miss out on some consoles, making this whole mission for naught.

“There are two other, smaller arcade locations within the Pizzaplex,” Freddy replied, giving Gregory one last big squeeze before setting him down in favor of holding his hand. “One is in Bonnie Bowl and the other is in the Daycare.”

“I'm starving. I need like, a whole pizza,” Gregory said, willing to forget the uncomfortable feeling it brought when thinking on Vanessa's situation. The immortal serial killer piloting a bunny suit with a hobby for murdering children continued to haunt Gregory's thoughts, even in normal conversation. His hand slid into Freddy's palm and began for the door.

“What's the pizza topping tonight? I wanna know if the Hawaiian still tastes the same.” Charlie hoped to move on from the awkwardness of knowing something was officially wrong with Vanessa.

Just fill the uncomfortable burden of knowledge with entertaining the kid, Charlie thought, watching as Gregory's face turned up at the suggestion.

“Whaaaat? Who actually gets pineapple on their pizza?” he inquired, disturbed by the idea. Charlie sighed.

“You have much to learn, kiddo. The pineapple calms down the spicy pepperoni they use. And the ham's there just because ham is good,” she explained as if the anatomy of the Hawaiian pizza was a hard-hitting science.

“In some ways, Charlie, you were always wise beyond your years,” Michael said, patting her back as they squeezed through the door and emerged into the West Arcade proper.

“To answer your question, since the Pizzaplex is not currently open for guests, there are no specials today,” Freddy informed the group. Before their crestfallen faces could stick, he quickly added with a grin: “Which simply means that you can make whatever pizza you would like!”

“Whatever we'd like?” Michael repeated, sparing a look behind him to lock eyes with Gregory. They grinned in unison, already in unspoken agreement to use this power to their full advantage.

Freddy seemed to realize the potential monsters he'd unleashed, for he quickly followed up his earlier proclamation. “Within reason, of course—please do not make yourselves sick...”

“So... No ultimate everything pizza?” Gregory asked, hoping that he and his older brother had the same idea.

He envisioned it clearly. A sturdy deep-dish with every possible combination of crust plus all toppings. Charlie's stomach felt sick just thinking about such a monster grease-ball of a meal—the saddest part being that she had no stomach to feel queasy with.

“No way you'd eat all of that,” Charlie told him, unknowingly goading Gregory to want the mythical pizza even further.

“Hey, I still haven't felt any effects from that scary burrito meat earlier; I could always help,” Michael pointed out, fully on board with encouraging the Frankenstein-pizza. Never mind the fact that he'd only eaten a tiny bit of meat, and this meal would be far more damaging both physically and psychologically... but that only made him more eager to try it.

“The staff may get upset if they see you both messing up the kitchen to get to all the toppings,” Freddy said, trying to think of a way to dissuade the boys without straight up saying no. However, when Michael puffed up his chest, Freddy already knew he was about to use his “Afton bloodline” excuse to get away with yet another thing. As Mike opened his mouth to speak, Freddy relented slightly. “Alright, how about this—you can make an ultimate everything pizza, as long as you also make one that is actually edible.”

“Freddy, do you doubt my cooking skills?” Mike asked, putting on an exaggerated sad face.

“It is not your cooking I am doubting, Michael—it is your ability to legitimately consume this dish.” Freddy couldn't help but smile just a bit as Mike snickered, his obvious happiness both a rare and welcome sight.

“Is it bad if I doubt both?” Charlie remarked, having a strong suspicion Mike was about to bite off more than he could chew in more ways than one.

“You know you're gonna want some...,” Gregory said, egging her on. Still, he was happy his ursine dad would let them get away with making what he’d assume to be a record-breaking pie.

“We can go to the food court—it is the closest place to get pizza,” Freddy said, as the group descended the staircase that would take them to the Arcade exit. Instead of heading straight for the elevator, he continued towards the dance floor. “I would like to say goodbye to Music Man first, however.”

“Heeeey, you guys!” the huge animatronic said upon catching sight of the comparatively tiny group. He waved a back arm, as his front hands were currently occupied. “How're you liking the music?!”

“The 80s songs are much appreciated,” Michael replied, hands in his pockets as he stared up at the DJ. He couldn't help a dark point of anxiety burrowing into the back of his mind when he thought of how terrifying this thing would be if it was infected like all the others... Thankfully, they'd managed to avoid the West Arcade so far during night shift, and he hoped the trend continued through tonight.

The group could see how anxious he was. Charlie and Gregory couldn’t exactly blame Michael. If the DJ wanted to, he could just crush them and be done with it. For now, he was probably the chillest of the personalities inhabiting the Mega Pizzaplex. Charlie threw a wave at the guy—she tried not to think about tonight, if he’d go and try to find them now that he knew there was a child and two human adults waiting to be smushed or pulled apart.

“That’s a choice mixtape you got!” Charlie complimented regardless. “We’re gonna take the little guy to get something to eat! Don’t wait up for us.”

“Thanks for the tunes, DJ!” Gregory called to him after Charlie. He chose to stick by Freddy, as his guardian made him feel comforted as he spoke to new people, regardless of whether this artificial personality was made to be the most relaxed guy in the room. He had to agree with Mike that Music Man’s size was formidable.

“See you guys laaaaateeeeer!” the DJ called, waving every limb not currently occupied as the group walked off the dance floor.

Before long they were exiting the elevator into the main atrium, making a beeline for a now-working escalator to take them right to the food court. There were a few staff milling around, though most were long-past lunch break and had returned to work. This served the group just fine, as Michael prompted Gregory to use an access pass to slip into the back kitchens. There was a lone S.T.A.F.F. bot in a chef’s outfit meandering near the doorway, and though it tracked the group’s movements it didn’t actively try to talk to them or call for security.

Which was good, because if it did, Mike would’ve had to tamper with more company property so they could make their pizza concoction.

“Okay, let’s get this done!” he said cheerfully, excited by the thought of this monster they were about to create. He hoisted Gregory up and placed the boy on his hip, holding him securely with one arm and grinning down at his mildly confused face.

“Three hands are better than two when making this thing, right? Besides, you don’t want to have to drag a stool all around the room to see over the counters, do you?” Michael’s grin shifted into one of brotherly mirth at the teasing dig to Gregory’s height. “Just tell me what we need and I’ll grab it, then you can put as much on the pizza as your heart desires.”

Gregory never thought he was short until he met Michael Afton in all his android glory, towering over the poor vertically challenged lad. Though he wouldn’t admit it, having Mike hold him up while observing the pizza toppings was easier than dragging around a stool.

“First, we’re going to need the pepperoni. Classic,” Gregory began, starting the long list of the weird Frankenstein pie that he envisioned in his mind.

It ended up becoming a savory, meat and vegetable medley on one side. Then on the other, the Hawaiian pizza for Charlie—Gregory decided to add some hot sauce on her side after realizing she was craving something spicy. What he and Michael ended up concocting was a messy pile. They had only stopped adding toppings when they realized they still needed to see some of the thick layer of cheese.

“This thing would kill an old person if you fed it to them,” Gregory said in a half amused, half concerned tone.

“Good thing we’re all so young and spry,” Michael joked, though the slight crease in his brow betrayed his concern about the potential hospital visit Gregory might need if he consumed too much of this monstrosity. As if reading his mind, Freddy placed gentle hands on each of the boys’ shoulders.

“How about you each take one bite and see how you feel?” the bear suggested, unsure of it would be worse for Gregory’s human stomach or Michael’s mechanical one. While they’d been making their ultimate pizza, Freddy busied himself with crafting a standard cheese and pepperoni so his son could actually have something to eat.

Michael nodded, attempting to dislodge a piece of the meat and veggie side which proved nearly impossible due to the sheer amount of toppings. He managed eventually, handing Gregory a plate with the not-so-surprisingly heavy slice. After getting one for himself and a Hawaiian-themed one for Charlie, Mike held his piece up with a determined light in his eyes. “On the count of three, we take a bite. One… two… three.”

At Michael's command, Gregory and Charlie timed their first bites of pizza to his word. Attempting to get every individual piece of meat and vegetable inside his mouth, Gregory had to take a pretty gigantic bite. This took a while to chew, but that single piece had been a meal by itself.

As she managed to taste and savor the flavor of the customized pie, Charlie could feel so many memories coming back with just the taste. For a moment, it was 1980. She, Michael, and Evan were in the kitchen of the dinner making their own monstrosity and eating it out of the way of the chefs and wait staff. They hadn't changed the recipe at all, and everything tasted just as it did back in that wonderful, wholesome year.

Charlie hadn't even registered the warm tears that flowed from the corners of her eyes as she indulged in her food. They freely streamed down her face even as she went in for a second bite.

“Perfect...,” she complimented the chefs, dabbing the corners of her mouth.

Michael’s mind had traveled down a similar road, back to a day where Lizzie and Sammy were playing at friends’ houses and left their siblings under the care of their fathers. William and Henry were busy, giving the trio a perfect opportunity to slip into the kitchen and make the most abominable pizza they could. William was the one to catch them and had chided them for using so many ingredients for their silly experiment, although when he’d subsequently taken a bite of their creation with a shimmer of laughter in his eyes and claiming that they couldn’t let everything go to waste, Michael knew they weren’t in real trouble.

He didn’t notice his own salty tears until he instinctively moved to wipe them away, his gaze shifting to Gregory as he did so.

And there was that damn trauma coming back to haunt him yet again—the boy’s image flickered before Michael’s eyes, shifting between the brother he once knew and the one he had now. “God… why did I—”

Why did I become such an asshole? Mike finished the sentence in his head, covering his mouth with a hand and turning away. He looked like he was about to throw up by the way his eyes scrunched tight, though he really just wanted to scream. If only he hadn’t played that stupid prank, it could be Evan by his side right now…

“Michael…” Freddy’s tone was soft, though the man sill flinched as the bear touched his shoulder. They stared at each other for a moment before Freddy held out his arms, gesturing for the man to come close. He might not fully understand what Michael was going through, but he could still be there for him.

Mike let out a short, barking laugh, not missing the irony of Freddy being the one to comfort him from these memories… but it only took a few seconds for him to fall into the bear’s arms and hug him tight.

Charlie could tell Michael had been thinking the same as her from the glimmer in his eyes—about the way their families used to be. She was still angry, bitter at the life stolen from her. It was a tragic accident what had happened to Evan. Then that poison spread from Evan’s death and into the lives of the Emilys.

She was infected by that poison, too. And so she could never relent, vengeful forever until William’s tainted fountain ran dry. He would pay for making her best and nearly her only friend’s childhood a living hell. She wanted retribution for all those lost souls, including her own.

And justice for Gregory, who had been exploited and traumatized beyond what was reasonable for a child in two nights.

Gregory had felt the melancholy, leaning into Charlie and attempting to lighten the mood. “Wow, pizza’s that good?”

Charlie slung an arm around his shoulder and rubbed his arm twice—then squeezed him into a close hug.

“Just haven’t had pizza like this in a while. Thanks, kiddo.” She excused them both, silently apologizing for the tears that fell off her jaw and onto Gregory’s wavy head of hair.

It wasn't long before Michael shimmied out of Freddy's grasp. The bear wanted to hold onto him longer, as if he knew this short hug wasn't nearly enough to make up for whatever horrific thing Mike was thinking of, but they both knew they couldn't cling forever. They were on a mission, after all.

“Thanks, Freddy,” Michael said quietly, wiping away the remnants of tears with one hand as he gripped the bear’s arm with the other. Before Freddy could reply, Mike set a smile on his face and turned to his siblings. Seeing them in an embrace, he playfully fell onto them and wrapped his arms around Charlie in a bear hug, effectively sandwiching Gregory in the middle. “Yeah that pizza's definitely in my favorites list now!”

“This is almost exactly like the secret recipe pizza Mike and I used to make, you know,” Charlie told their new friends, laughing when Gregory started squirming.

“That's nice—Mike, you're squishing meee!” he lamented, unable to wiggle free from the cage that he and Charlie created with their arms.

Then, behind them came the sudden sound of radio static. It came in and out, breathing almost before a familiar voice rang out. “THAT LOOKS LIKE FUN...”

When Charlie whipped her head around, she was surprised to see none other than Ennard. They'd snuck in so quietly and appeared to have wrapped their limbs in random, ripped up carpet segments—clashing patterns and colors that made them even more of an eyesore. Charlie jumped in place and held onto Gregory tighter as she let out a briefly frightened yelp.

Freddy instinctively moved to the group's side, trying to push Gregory and Charlie behind himself as he stared at the mass of wires and carpet pieces. He recognized the voice as the one he'd briefly heard from the vents, although the sight of Ennard was certainly... something.

Freddy had many, many questions, but he doubted any of them would be answered now. He could feel Michael tense up like a startled cat on his other side, having let go of Charlie and Gregory the second the static entered the room to better protect his family.

“...What the hell have you been up to?” Michael asked slowly, his eyes roaming over the multicolored, 80s-style carpet pieces. However, the answer occurred to him before Ennard could reply, and Mike sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Oh—you're trying to be quieter. For god's sake...”

“Michael...?” Freddy began questioningly, although he honestly wasn't sure what he wanted to ask. This thing sure was intimidating, the fabric flooring only adding to the eeriness as their entire body swayed. A few tendrils moved of their own accord, and Freddy swore one was trying to inch closer to Michael.

Seeing everyone's expressions of wary confusion, Mike realized Freddy hadn't been told what to expect when facing this thing. Not to mention the last time Gregory saw Ennard was in the dark basement, lurking in the shadows as it literally ripped an animatronic apart in front of the boy's eyes. Ennard was quite different in the comparatively bright kitchen lighting.

Michael grimaced, eyes locked onto the amalgamation as he reassured the trio: “Don't worry, you'll be fine... What do you want, Ennard? And why are you out during dayshift?!”

As the group relaxed, Ennard stared at them with a fixed gaze from every visible eye. They were unmoving except for the metal and wires just barely inside Michael's comfort zone. How they twitched in longing to be near him again... The carpet was a nice substitute, though it certainly didn't feel as safe as Michael's own flesh.

“I WAS TOLD TO FOLLOW...,” they reminded, heterochromatic eyes staring holes through the group.

Gregory wasn't afraid of clowns, but he didn't realize Ennard was that huge. Once Ennard caught him looking, they became somewhat standoffish. Aloof, they turned their back to Gregory ever so slightly as if hiding from him.

“WE ARE QUIET NOW... WHAT ARE YOU GUYS UP TO…?” they inquired, looking around the group briefly.

“Eating pizza.” Gregory held out the gooey mess. “Do you want a slice?”

He regretted the offer slightly as Ennard moved in a hauntingly jarring way towards them, body jerking and ropey as strong metal moving under the carpet. The monstrous form barely visible under the thick 80's patterns.

“Absolutely not!” Michael and Freddy exclaimed in unison, swiftly putting themselves in-between Gregory and the approaching animatronic. The pair shared a look, silently in agreement that they did not want to see what happened if whatever made up Ennard's body got gunked up with cheesy grease and toppings.

“Ennard's, ah... components seem to be more like mine as opposed to Michael and Charlie's, so I do not think it wise for them to eat real food,” Freddy explained, trying to be as gentle as possible with his words. Ennard was clearly sentient and aware, but Freddy couldn't help but feel like they'd appreciate hearing the reasoning nonetheless since they seemed quite eager to participate in the group's activities.

And he also didn't want Michael to have another mental break when trying to speak to the amalgamation after he'd just recovered from the last one. By the way Mike's left eye was twitching slightly as he pushed Gregory even further behind him, Freddy could tell he wasn't far off from snapping.

Ennard had stopped mid-walk, the former child-entrapping animatronic eyeing both the slice and Gregory with unknown intent. After focusing their vision, Ennard's gaze landed on Freddy and Michael.

“THAT... MAKES... SENSE—SENSE—SENSE...” Their voice box glitched out, causing them to smack their own chest in frustration to fix the involuntary stutter.

“Ennard?” Charlie would ask, finding the clown face suddenly snapping in her direction to gaze down at her. “Have you been watching us this whole time?” She attempted to make friendly conversation all while trying to navigate and avoid the stalker-like behavior they portrayed. Ennard would shake their head, the motions more jagged than any animatronic the others had seen to date.

“NOT JUST YOU... WATCHING ALL... OBSERVING... HIM...” Ennard had replied honestly, a hint of malice dripping in multiple layers of voice boxes.

“'Him?' Do you mean... William?” Freddy asked tentatively, eyes narrowed in question. He didn't like the dark tone coming from that voice box and hoped it was directed towards the same entity his group was after.

Freddy caught Michael nodding out of the corner of his eye, though he kept his gaze fixed on Ennard, still unsure whether they could truly trust this thing yet. He'd caught the strange way it looked at Gregory earlier and didn't want to take any chances... even if it had saved the boy last night.

“Ennard hates him, too; I can at least tell you that,” Michael confirmed, one of the rare facts he was absolutely sure about regarding the amalgamation. Mike crossed his arms over his chest, observing the familiar way Ennard swayed. The movement seemed a little more cumbersome because of all the carpeting, but it was still just as unnerving at it'd always been. Raising a brow, Michael asked: “Have you learned anything from these observations? Maybe something he's plotting, or... Oh, anything would help, really.”

He seemed to deflate slightly, false confidence punctured by the stark reality of how little they knew of what William's actual goal was besides “get his family back.” They didn't even know where he was right now...

Gregory attempted to look at Ennard, observing their odd posturing. Both Freddy and Michael seemed to be aware of Ennard being much more dangerous than the others. If they wanted to, Gregory was positive that Ennard could and would tear through them all without hesitation. Their last run-in with Michael had left the man shaking while talking to the robot amalgamate.

Ennard looked around the room, eyelids darting and flicking closed, making shutter sounds as they simulated blinking for the boy's comfort.

“BUILDING... REPAIRING HIMSELF... SCREAMING. THROWING THINGS...” they listed off, thinking of all the things they heard and saw William doing during their recon work. “WILLIAM... STAYING BE-BELOW. UNSURE WHERE—DON’T W-W-WANT TO GET CLOSE, OR RISK BEING SPOTTED… HIDEOUT ABANDONED NOW...”

That made Michael perk up again.

“His hideout? The one in Fazerblast?” he questioned, and upon receiving a jerking nod Michael looked to the others with a hesitant grin. “If he’s gone… maybe we should check it out?”

“Are you sure it is empty?” Freddy asked, placing a hand on Mike's forearm to still his excitement. His gaze was still fixed to Ennard, wanting to make sure they would be safe before trying something so risky. The animatronic was strange, but it really didn't seem to mean them any harm...

Ennard shifted their weight, unnaturally leaning with hips jutting out at a sharp degree while answering Freddy.

“THE PAST NIGHT AND DAY... CLEAR OF RABBIT—S...” they replied. Ennard took a step back then, realigning their frame in a more natural standing position that made them look even taller. “NO ONE IN SIGHT.”

Gregory could see Ennard’s gaze drifting back to Michael, as if knowing the man would have the final say in whether they would go or not. He knew better than anyone that Ennard was capable of lying, after all.

Ennard sure was a liar... Or at least, they used to be. Back when Michael first encountered the amalgamation all those years ago, it'd lured him into the scooping room under false pretenses, and Mike had stupidly walked right into the trap.

However, in the Pizzaplex, Ennard seemed different. They'd been nothing but helpful to Mike and his friends, showing no sign of wanting to climb into any of their bodies or otherwise destroy them despite the unnerving stares and tendency to grasp at Michael's ankles. Hell, Ennard even saved him and Gregory from Roxy—a far cry from the last time Mike had been so close to the thing.

“...I trust them—on this, at least,” Michael said in a voice that was barely audible. Freddy finally turned to him, searching the man's face for any sign of doubt. Upon finding nothing but serious determination, he nodded.

“Then to the hideout we shall go,” the bear agreed. He looked back at Ennard, finally giving the mass of carpeted wires a genuine Glamrock Freddy smile. “Thank you for all of your help, Ennard. It is much appreciated.”

It was hard to tell what was going on inside Ennard’s head as they stared down the bear. Their demeanor seeming surprised, bashful even as Freddy thanked them. They belted out a quick rush of nervous static. Then, after collapsing their body slightly, wormed their way back into the vents without another word.

They weren’t used to the kinder treatments. In fact, they were far too comfortable with Michael yelling at them—it was almost safe in its familiarity, in a twisted sort of way. The sudden change in attitude towards the hulking robot had left them rather shy in response.

“That guy has issues,” Gregory said, less in judgmental and more out of pity for the monster as soon as he felt they were out of earshot.

“Gregory, you have no idea,” Michael murmured in a slightly strained voice, running a hand absently through the boy's wavy brown locks as he stared into the vent. 

“Well, I suppose we should put our search for the Princess Quest games on hold temporarily?” Freddy asked, looking between the trio. He still wore a smile, happy that they'd made some progress with their surprisingly helpful stalker and their search for William in one go.

“Yeah; who knows, maybe we'll find a clue about them in the hideout,” Michael suggested with a shrug. He slipped his hand into Gregory's, wanting to keep track of his brother personally until his latent paranoia towards Ennard subsided.

“Wait—did you have enough food, superstar?” Freddy questioned as the group started towards the door. Mike resisted the urge to roll his eyes, wanting to move on but understanding the bear's parental concern.

Gregory had just registered he was still hanging onto the heavy slice of pizza. Now that it cooled, its toppings were fixed in place by the thick layer of cheese. Gregory nodded and told his ursine father: “I’ll eat this slice on the way.”

Gregory was more tired than anything. He needed a nap before the night shift began. They still needed to play the next installment of Princess Quest—and hopefully collect those tickets for Charlie. Still he remained confused at their collective reactions to Ennard when DJ Music Man was so widely accepted. He decided for now not to question it, as his caretakers had done a good job at keeping him safe thus far.

“Let’s get a move on, then!” Charlie told the group, seemingly trying to force a positive outlook before sneaking into the Fazerblast security office. They would need the good vibes, Charlie felt. Who knew what terrible things sat in Vanny’s personal space.

“Hey, Freddy,” Michael began, sidling up to the bear as the group moved as one to the door. “The last time Gregory and I went to Fazerblast, we got stuck—I literally had to pry the elevator open to get us out because we couldn’t finish the game.” He grimaced at the memories. “Is there any way you can make that not happen?”

“You wish for me to override the attraction itself?” Freddy questioned, and Michael nodded. Freddy shook his head, giving him an apologetic smile. “Unfortunately, I do not have access to those types of override protocols. Perhaps a staff member might be able to help?”

“Ugh… the only staff we know is Sophie.” Michael glanced at Charlie, wanting her opinion on the matter. “I don’t know if we want to chance the extra attention… but I also don’t want to get stuck again. What do you think, Charlie?”

Charlie bit at the inside of her lip in thought, weighing the options in her head.

“You said you had to pry open the elevator, right? Tell Sophie there’s damage done to the internal doors and that you need to turn the attraction off,” she replied with a quick snap of her fingers. That had happened when Michael was in his Foxy get-up, so she could only imagine what that hook and claw had done to the door to get it to open. The likelihood of the elevator being busted to hell were high.

“Perfect—hand over that walkie talkie?” Michael took the device after Charlie unclipped it from her belt just as the group emerged into the main atrium. They walked at a steady pace, not wanting to seem in a rush even though they were all anxious to get to their destination.

“Hello, Sophie? Come in, please; this is Mr. Afton,” Michael said, pressing the button on the walkie to speak into the static. 

There was a crackle of static for a moment before Sophie responded with a simple: “Hi, Sir—do you need something?”

“Yes, actually—we’re heading over to Fazerblast. I’ve been informed there’s damage to one of the interior elevator doors.” Michael paused just long enough for the words to sink in, but not giving the guard time to freak out. “I’d like to assess the issue, and in order to do that can you turn the attraction off while my group is inside?”

“Hooo boy,” Sophie replied, followed by a cacophony of crackles. Likely her hanging up before cursing to her presumed boss. After a second of hesitation, her voice clicked back onto the feed. “I'll meet you there, Mr. Afton. Over!”

She knew no one else would volunteer to help out the admins. Most of the staff hadn't even met any of the owners besides Sammy Emily before, so working around the hired family members would be a nightmare for most. Though, to be fair Sophie hadn’t exactly heard mention of these mysterious heirs before today either.

“Freddy?” Charlie said, giving the bear a gentle nudge. “You and Gregory should hang out of sight for a little. Sophie might ask why we're bringing you both into a work area…”

“Good point,” Freddy agreed, holding out a paw for Gregory to grasp. He gazed around the atrium, looking for a place close by but still out of the way. His eyes settled on one of the many brightly lit signs on the third floor and his smile widened. “Would you like to try a round of bowling, superstar?”

Michael followed Freddy’s sightline to Bonnie Bowl. It wouldn’t take long for Freddy and Gregory to sneak down to the hideout from there if necessary. Of course it’d be ideal if they could prevent Gregory from returning to one of the places that traumatized him the most this weekend.

The more Michael followed this train of thought, the more set on it he became.

“I think that’s a good option,” he chimed in before Gregory could respond, cracking a tiny smile. “Didn’t you say there was an arcade up there, Freddy? You guys can see if there’s a Princess Quest console while Charlie and I do our thing in Fazerblast. We’ll let you know if we need you, don’t worry—otherwise, we can just meet you in the bowling alley when we’re done.”

Gregory had always wanted to try out bowling. Even if they didn't get the chance to play a full game, it'd be fun to unwind and get to do something with just Freddy for a change. Unfortunately, Michael mentioning Princess Quest brought him back to the current reality. He'd have to worry about having fun some other time. Right now, Vanessa needed them to find the source of her mind control. Hopefully it meant defeating these badly coded video games.

“Let's go check it out!” Gregory said, a good attitude about it regardless. He pulled on the bear’s paw, as if he had the strength to sway where Freddy walked.

Freddy chuckled quietly at Gregory’s obvious excitement, playing into it by pretending like the boy was somehow able to tug the half-ton metal bear along as if he were nothing more than a stuffed toy. As he pitched forward slightly to give the impression of being knocked off-balance by Gregory’s sheer strength, Freddy spared a glance over his shoulder and waved to Michael and Charlie with his free hand.

“…Damn,” Michael murmured once Freddy and Gregory were out of earshot in a tone of wistfulness. “I know Freddy’s designed to be good with kids, but… he’s really good with Gregory.” He spared a glance at Charlie then, raising an eyebrow to match his subtle smirk. “Good thing we’ve got a new, Pizzaplex-escaping body waiting for him, huh?”

“It's almost like he was programmed to be a dad—I don’t think all of them would act like Freddy,” Charlie agreed. That bear was truly one of a kind.

Perhaps knowing the presence of a human soul had given Freddy some awareness. That was the theory that Charlie would stick with, at least. Michael's own feelings seemed to imprint deeply into whatever learning feature had been installed inside the newest rendition of Fazbear. The already protective and nurturing side of Freddy had been amped up, and the line between what came from Freddy’s original code and Mike’s supernatural influence was now thoroughly blurred

“I still can't believe how lucky last weekend’s been for us overall!” Charlie remarked further. The fact they had a chance of carrying out their plans and possibly putting William away for good had her expectations sky high.

It really was a shame. Bonnie used to be such a cool character, but Charlie couldn't look at that rabbit the same. Not after all the things she’d seen William do with that innocent guise. She kept her vision focused ahead now, walking besides Michael with purpose.

“If it turns out to be a trap—” Charlie murmured as she leaned into him. “—and it turns out your Dad's there… I'll get behind him, then you push him down the stairs.”

“Deal,” Mike agreed, flipping a hand palm-up so Charlie could give him a low-five. Lifting his hand higher, Michael watched his fist clench and unclench a few times. “I wonder how much strength we really have. I know your dad said it should match a normal animatronic’s, but—”

Michael’s musing was cut short when he spotted Sophie hurrying towards them at rapid speed.  Mike straightened his back and gave the guard a slight nod of acknowledgement.

To Sophie, the pair of them looked nothing short of professional. Ms. Emily, in Sophie's opinion, was nice. Eccentric, but nice nonetheless. Mr. Afton was… different. Still just as strange as Ms. Emily, but with a frighteningly flattened affect. Regardless, he treated Sophie with respect and she had no reason to hate either of them.

Yet that didn’t stop Sophie from growing very curious at their antics. The day guard waved to them, seeing that they’d gotten changed straight into more merchandise from one of the many store-outposts.

“Mr. Afton; Ms. Emily,” Sophie acknowledged once the two came to stand outside the attraction. She held the door for them both, offering them to walk inside the lift before her. “I just have to unlock the main breaker. Shouldn't take long. Honestly, I'm really glad you both want to work on this. Our mechanics suddenly found themselves swamped right now.”

“Oh?” Michael questioned, putting on a tone of detached interest. “Have you heard anything about the missing animatronics? Last time we spoke, you said some of the others weren’t responding to their manual call buttons.”

On one hand Michael hoped they’d stay missing, if only for the fact that the sooner they were found, the sooner the techs would start fixing them up again. After all the effort they’d gone through to decommission them, Mike didn’t want the Pizzaplex staff to unintentionally make the robots a threat again.

But that begged another, more pressing question: if no one knew where the Glamrocks had gone… then where the hell were they?

Even though Roxy had been ripped to pieces, Ennard left her limbs in plain sight. If someone peered down that newly-created hole in the track—which Michael suspected a bunch of staff were frantically trying to assess and repair this very moment—they’d surely catch sight of the dismembered wolf.

The thought that they could’ve somehow still gotten up on their own or been snatched away by William while Mike and his family recovered was enough to set Michael’s nerves on edge. He tried to keep the emotions contained, keeping up the illusion of cool confidence despite the hard set of his jaw as his teeth clenched together. Hopefully Sophie would take this as him simply being annoyed at the prospect of valuable company assets being MIA.

Sophie avoided Mr. Afton's gaze, attempting to fix her tie in a casual manner before answering. This only made her looked even more exacerbated than she did already.

“We, uh... technically found one of them. It wasn’t one we were exactly looking for right now, though,” Sophie told them cryptically. “And then right after they found him, it just disappeared again. So... We're working on that. It's a work in progress. Everyone seems to be more worried about the structural damage to the raceway.”

Sophie sighed, placing a hand on her hip and shaking her head with a look of utter confusion. “Plus all that carpet suddenly went missing from the East Arcade? I feel like things are kind of coming unraveled, sir, if I'm honest...”

It was becoming increasingly obvious to Michael and Charlie what was happening as Sophie left out details to protect them from what they assumed to be managerial anger.

“I wouldn't worry about things like the carpet,” Michael said after a moment. The more he could keep them away from anything to do with Ennard, the better. “There's clearly more important issues to focus on, like that damage to the raceway.” He narrowed his eyes, internally grateful for the topic to snag onto. “Thank god it's under renovation anyway... if something was able to break the tarmac that easily, it belies some serious safety concerns.”

Under Sammy's guidance, in many ways the Pizzaplex was a safer place than any previous Fazbear establishment—but there was always room for improvement. After a brief pause, Mike asked: “You said the animatronic staff found disappeared? Who, exactly, was that?”

He was almost positive he knew the identity, but if it suddenly vanished like the Glamrocks... Well, Michael didn't quite know what to do with that information.

Sophie seemed to be similar in Charlie, in that they wore their emotions on their sleeves quite easily. Taking on a more distressed demeanor Sophie chuckled, looking away. Despite her wide grin, she was uncomfortable thinking about it. Again it was always some damn rabbit causing trouble...

“Oh, just the uh... The decommissioned b... bunny,” Sophie replied, fighting with the last word to exit her mouth. “It was odd—my team found him and told me he needed to be fixed. Said he’d been missing for a while, but no one talked about it anymore. I just wanted to leave the stupid thing back in storage but... You know policy. Making sure the animatronics are accounted for, even when the active ones are bigger priority. Anyway—”

The lift doors began to slide back open and Sophie dawdled inside, searching for the employee terminal to access the attraction controls. “—he just up and hopped away, I guess.”

Sophie didn't really seem like the type to become annoyed fast, yet speaking about the rabbit made her sound bitter and afraid. Like Vanessa, almost.

Oh, that was much worse than Michael expected. His mouth had slowly fallen open as Sophie spoke, unable to keep his prideful Afton demeanor as she talked so blatantly about the man-turned-rabbit animatronic they were on a mission to destroy.

Of course it was William. It always had to be William.

Michael snapped his mouth shut with an audible click as the elevator doors opened, staring down at Sophie with a mixture of guilty relief. The staff that found Will had no idea how close they'd come to losing everything. Clearly he wanted to keep a low profile, hence his temporarily immobile state, but if he'd had other plans—

“We'll keep an eye out for the rabbit.” Michael spoke quickly, wanting to put the topic at rest but also try and avoid the staff actively chasing his psychotic father. “Just... tell the others not to worry about him. There's still a few animatronics awake and functioning to appropriate standards, right? No need to worry about ones that have already been taken out of the lineup.”

Not to mention how much detailing Bonnie still needed. Cracks all over his outer casing, covered in a thin layer of dirt like he’d been crawling around the basement.

“If you say so, sir.” Sophie tucked an errant curl behind her ear. “I just hope we can find everyone in time for opening. I know Mr. Emily wants the Glamrocks together by Monday... I don't know who's going to tell him it's just not possible.”

It was probably going to be her. The staff just loved to put the harder admin interactions on Sophie, given that she was head of security during the day. Approaching the terminal, she swiped her card into a reader at the desk which logged her in immediately.

“Don't worry about that, either. I'll tell Sammy everything,” Charlie reassured, placing a hand on Sophie’s shoulder and squeezing. “Just do us a favor and leave Bonnie alone. He was decommissioned for a good reason.”

Huh. It was normal to be scared of Mr. Afton, though now there was something in Ms. Emily's tone that Sophie just didn't trust.

“Uh... Is that why you both decided to come in this weekend?” Sophie asked, feeling her throat run dry as the pair stared at her. “I-I just didn't expect to meet you both under such stressful circumstances.”

“Mr. Emily just asked us to check in on some things,” Michael replied smoothly, having regained his composure after Charlie added her two cents. He certainly appreciated the backup, which he was sure she knew. Mike shook his head, letting out another sigh.

“Admittedly we were unaware of the depth of the problems around here, but... we are here to help.” He offered Sophie a rare, muted smile. “Try not to stress yourself out too much, alright? You've done as good a job as you can so far.”

Michael wished he could alleviate all her tension by telling her to go home and take the weekend off, for the woman was clearly losing her mind with every new incident. But unfortunately she was becoming invaluable to his group as well—even if she didn't know it. Still, Mike could at least take off a bit of immediate pressure. Clicking his tongue in annoyance, he muttered: “It's really the night guard I'd like to speak to—everything seems to happen on her shift...”

It was now time for an inopportune blush to spread across Sophie’s face at the genuine compliment to her work capabilities. Sophie didn't receive much praise, nor did she seek it out. This was probably why it affected her so much as she focused her gaze on the computer screen.

“I'm really worried about Vanessa, sir...” She wasn’t quite defending the position Ness had put everyone in over the weekend, but Sophie cared about the grumpy night guard in a detached, logical way. “I told her she should just stay home. Heal from her injuries, you know? She's still determined to fix everything from her shift.”

“We told her the same thing. Vanessa’s given us all the run-around,” Charlie interjected. It wasn't Sophie's fault that Vanessa wanted to stay another night. “It is what it is at this point; if she wants to stay, so be it.”

As Charlie spoke, Sophie's expression grew from concern to annoyance.

“Guh...” She groaned, squinting at the screen. “The console has a password on it... Might be logged up in the security office? I can control the doors without it, but not much else.”

“Char—Ms. Emily and I will go,” Michael said quickly, shooting Charlie a look. He realized they didn't have Gregory's handy stash of access badges, but hopefully they wouldn't need one—and if they did, hopefully Sophie would readily offer hers. Looking to said guard, Michael told her: “We'll be back shortly. Walkie us if you manage to figure out the password or if anything happens, alright?”

He probably didn't need to include that last part, for surely it just added to everyone's paranoia. Without giving Sophie a chance to protest, Mike walked out of the room and gestured for Charlie to follow behind.

The day guard couldn't place the odd feeling she got around the two of them. Sophie wanted to offer them her assistance, thought simultaneously just wanted to be rid of them.

“Uh—of course, sir,” Sophie relented, watching as Samuel’s apparent daughter followed Mr. Afton obediently through the maze and towards the security tower steps.

Charlie's fear for Sophie’s safety was growing now. William knew people were looking for him, and he didn't think twice about killing children. Why not random adults, too?

At least Sophie was immediately and quite vocally perturbed by the Glam-rabbit. Charlie couldn't imagine her willingly going near Bonnie and disobeying their direct orders to leave William alone.

“Let's hurry. I don't have a great feeling about this, Michael...,” Charlie whispered, sticking close to him as she felt bad about leaving the day guard by herself within the belly of William's lair.

“You're telling me...,” Michael muttered, though his snapping tone wasn't meant for Charlie. He hated leaving Sophie alone just as much as she did, though if Ennard claimed the hideout was empty during the day, he reasoned the guard was relatively safe.

Michael absently looked around, in his steadily-increasing worry almost considering asking the amalgamation to keep an eye on poor, innocent Sophie—although Mike quickly scrapped that idea for many reasons. Besides, even if he did want to talk to Ennard, the ceilings and walls were far too high; he'd have to shout to be heard in the vents, and that would certainly not be a good look for his sanity.

Soon enough, the pair were at the door to the security office at the top of the tower. Michael peered inside, though it was pretty dark and hard to make out most things. He thought he could see a small cot in the corner, as well as a standard security desk, chair, and monitors, and—

“No way,” he breathed, pressing his hands to the glass as he fixated on the glowing screen of an arcade console in the middle of the room. The title “Princess Quest III” was emblazoned on the top, shining like a beacon of hope that cut through Michael and Charlie's bleak mood.

Charlie nudged Michael's shoulder, pushing him slightly as she pointed to the box with her other hand. “It was here this whole time!”

Right under their noses, here sat the final installment of William's glitched game. Just like last time, as they approached the arcade box a credit blinked onto the screen. It beckoned them to play it, calling their names with silent persuasion. If they could win this game, Vanessa may be saved yet.

“Come on—let's beat this thing fast. Sophie won't like knowing we’re up here playing video games,” Charlie remarked, pulling Michael by the arm to start the session of Princess Quest.

Michael didn't bother verbally responding, instead placing his hands on the control panel and starting the game. Thank god he'd watched Gregory play the first two, because this one was even worse than the others—both in terms of difficulty and glitches. Though the console acted like it wanted them to play, Michael was having a hell of a time getting the titular Princess out of danger. He wished Gregory was here with them, as Michael had to begrudgingly admit that the kid was more skilled than him at this particular game series. Steeling himself, Mike narrowed his area of focus to the little square screen in front of him.

He wasn't going to stop until he won—no matter how long it took.

Chapter Text

Too late to hide away
Too soon for one to repay
Why don't you see what's comin’?
I cannot stop what's comin’
There is no point in tryin’
Please read my mind, can't decide when I'm broken
Every whisper is turning to voices
That I only begin to discern in noises

Somebody save

Somebody save

Somebody save me

~Save Me by DHuesta, Chris Commisso~

While Michael and Charlie traveled down to Fazerblast, Gregory and Freddy were looking around the arcade in Bonnie Bowl. It was just a tiny room of random games, none of which seemed to be the one they were searching for.

“I am sorry, superstar—I do not see Princess Quest,” Freddy admitted, using his height advantage to scour the game titles in search of the aforementioned console.

Figures that they wouldn’t find it. With Freddy’s apologetic nature, Gregory couldn’t blame the bear even if he wanted to.

“We’ll find it eventually,” he replied, giving the entirety of the room another visual once-over before shrugging his shoulders. “We could bowl a little! You know, before Mr. Afton and Ms. Emily get back.”

Gregory’s tone was mocking, excited to pick on his siblings now that they weren’t here to defend themselves and retaliate. He glanced up to Freddy, eyes wide with hope that the bear would agree to hang out with him a little and do something normal. The two of them barely got to relax together since starting their quest, and if Freddy was indeed destined to be Gregory’s dad the kid wanted to spend some quality time with his ursine caretaker.

“That is a wonderful plan!” Freddy praised, grinning down at his son as he ruffled his hair. Michael and Charlie had told them to stay put unless they called after all, and Freddy saw no need to go against their suggestion.

Until now, respite was only found in Freddy’s room or the security offices that Gregory chose to nap inside of. If he could offer Gregory another place to associate with comfort, Freddy would jump at the chance.

The staff being in a tizzy over all the crazy stuff happening elsewhere in the Pizzaplex worked to their benefit, for there was no one wandering around the uninteresting bowling alley to bother them. It was completely empty save for the S.T.A.F.F. bots behind the food counter, ready to serve up some unhealthy concoction at Gregory's whim. Freddy was glad for the chance to spend time with his son without worrying about any watchful eyes, and this infectious happiness showed when he suddenly grasped Gregory under the shoulders and threw him into the air. He grinned at the boy's surprised shriek as he was subsequently caught in Freddy's safe, waiting arms.

“To the bowling lane we go!” the bear exclaimed, settling Gregory on his hip as they made their way towards the first available lane.

Gregory’s surprise toss in the air reminded him just how fast and strong his dad was. Thankfully he only had Gregory’s best interests at heart and wasn’t using that strength to try and rip his guts out. After the yelp, he devolved into a mess of giggles before holding onto his father for support that he seemingly didn’t even need.

“I’ve never bowled before! You just knock the pins down, right?” Gregory asked. The game sounded straightforward. Only two chances to knock every pin down, then it’s onto the next person.

Gregory already liked this attraction. The first plus was that it was quiet; the other being that there wasn’t anything lurking around trying to tear the boy apart. He was safe here during the day with his favorite animatronic at his side.

“Correct,” Freddy agreed, setting Gregory down when they reached the lane. “There are a few techniques to help knock down the ultimate number of pins, which I can show you. I will put our names into the scoreboard so it can keep track; how about you pick out a bowling ball?” He gestured to the rack of colorful balls nearby, all with different faces of various Pizzaplex animatronics printed on them along with numbers to indicate their weight. “Try to find one that is easy for you to pick up, but not too light.”

As Gregory did as instructed, Freddy situated himself in the bolted-down plastic chair in front of the lane computer. He plugged in his name first so he’d be able to show Gregory an example of how to bowl, and once the monitor hanging from the ceiling lit up ready for the game to start he met the boy at the rack.

“Any luck, superstar?” Freddy asked kindly, reaching over Gregory’s head to pick out a heavily-weighted ball. He casually tossed this in the air and caught it one-handed as if the thing weighed no more than a cotton swab.

Gregory had been feeling out the weight on many of the bowling balls while Freddy set up their game. But it was increasingly more and more obvious that the kid was… not very strong. The 10 pound, deep purple glitter ball wasn’t the heaviest, but it wasn’t the smallest weight they carried so Gregory saw that as a victory.

He flashed a smile to his dad, showing off the ball. When he caught Freddy oh-so gracefully tossing one up with such gentle cadence, Gregory looked impressed. He needed to get way stronger, or Freddy and the other bots were going to smoke him at bowling!

“Got one!” Gregory announced with a smile. It’d be fun to play with him, regardless.

“Excellent!” With a gentle touch to Gregory’s shoulder, Freddy urged him towards the lane itself. “Now, the basic things you should keep in mind are to line up your shot and try not to twist your wrist as you release the ball to ensure it travels in a straight line.”

Freddy demonstrated this, holding the sparkling red ball to his chest as he lined up the angle. He cocked his arm back, the ball hooked by the tips of his bright blue claws, then simultaneously took a step forward and released in one smooth motion. It sailed down the lane and smacked into the pins with a satisfying crack, knocking over all but a cluster of 3 standing on the leftmost side.

“You get two chances per turn to knock down all the pins, unless you hit them all in one go and cause a strike,” Freddy explained as he waited for his ball to shoot out of the return track.

Gregory was mimicking Freddy, all but letting go of the purple orb to watch Freddy expertly down seven of the pins. The screen over the alley showed exactly which ones remained as the track cleared the fallen pins away.

“Easy!” Gregory scoffed, figuring the game was fairly straightforward. It also seemed relaxed and casual, unlike the competitive streak he and Michael had earlier in the East Arcade.

Discretely, while Freddy was lining up his second shot Gregory reached into one of the roomier pockets. He’d rolled up the monster slice of pizza as to not stain his cargo pants with grease, and munched upon it as he watched the bear concentrate.

Another perfectly-angled throw, and the last three pins were down.

“Spare!” Freddy cheered, throwing his fists in the air as he watched the cheesy animation play out on the monitor above their heads. He turned to Gregory, his grin faltering into a mild look of confusion as he caught him chowing down on the pizza slice. It wasn’t a great leap in logic to figure out where it’d come from, and despite the questionable hygiene of eating pocket-pizza, Freddy opted to let it go this time. If anything about that hefty slice of topping-laden dough were to make Gregory sick, it wasn’t going to be the way it was transported…

“When you are ready, it is your turn,” Freddy said, stepping aside and gesturing for Gregory to take his place in front of the lane. Gregory was quick to abandon the pizza, sure it’d still be waiting for him on the tabletop when he got back. 

“Okay... So, keep your wrist straight—” Gregory aimed down the alley and hurled the ball as hard as he could.

It sure did go!

…And it continued, veering left before finding itself loudly clanging into the gutter. Gregory's jaw hung open, blinking as the ball passed every single pin to go straight for the return. When Gregory turned to glance back at his father, he gave the robot a thumbs-up.

“Now I know what not to do,” he said, trying not to be a sore loser.

“It may take a little practice, but I am sure you will get your skills up in no time!” Freddy said reassuringly, giving the boy a smile. He didn't feel the need to point out that his AI was designed to excel at games like this, nor that he just so happened to be the second best animatronic at bowling, beaten only by the rabbit the attraction was themed after. Their friendly bowling rivalry had been a major aspect of their relationship, and despite how worked up the usually-composed bunny could get when he lost, Freddy always knew it was in good fun.

Sparing a glance towards the closed, star-studded curtain by the food counter, Freddy allowed a wistful smile to cross his face. What he wouldn't give to have those days back again, before Bonnie went “missing” and this horrible virus infested the very building they called home...

Freddy flicked his gaze back to Gregory, who was watching him closely. The bear let out a huffing laugh, stepping forward to ruffle his hair. He really was too observant for his own good sometimes—although in the current circumstances, it didn't hurt to be overly cautious. Before Gregory could ask what was wrong, Freddy let him know:

“I am alright, superstar—just reminiscing. You still have one more try before your turn ends!”

He was sad about Bonnie...

Gregory could tell in the forlorn glance Freddy sent to the stage. They were made to be best friends, and that friendship was taken away in the blink of an eye so that one man could have a disguise. If the Glamrock bear hadn’t been gifted such realistic emotion, the secondhand hurt might not’ve felt so bad.

Even so, Gregory knew when not to meddle, instead leaning into his father's wholesome head-pats to try cheering him up instead. “Okay, watch me, Dad! I'm gonna knock 'em aaaall down this time!”

Today was their fun day, after all! And despite the fact he couldn't stop his siblings from crying earlier, Gregory may be able to at least keep Freddy from feeling any worse. Besides, Gregory was confident in the future after all the reassurances Charlie had drilled into the group.

They were going to beat William. And when they did, Bonnie would be back! Back on his stage, back beside Freddy and the Glamrocks, together again.

Gregory… couldn't relate. The only good friends he had were all right here, under this roof.

He thought about how close they’d all gotten while chucking the ball down its lane. The orb once again veered left, managing to take out a pin in its spinning whirlwind of destruction. Gregory would still celebrate this with a fist pump. Even the small victory was still a win to him.

“Well done, Gregory!” Freddy exclaimed, giving the boy a high-five as he moved past to switch places. A bit of an exaggerated celebration for one pin, but Freddy couldn't help it—he was more so cheering for the fact that his son was genuinely having a good time. As Freddy got into position, he gave Gregory some additional instruction. “See those little triangular markers on the lane in front of where you stand? Try and line up your shot with those—carry your arm through as straight as you can, and the ball should go in the direction you intend.”

With another well-positioned throw, Freddy's ball rolled forward in a rush of red sparkle. This time, he hit the pins square in the center, knocking them all down at once. The monitor proclaimed he'd gotten a STRIKE! in overly-animated, exaggerated text.

Gregory was a little jealous, but mostly impressed. He stood with his arms crossed as he watched his dad's technique. He'd have to hurry it up; Freddy was too good and was going to wipe the floor with him and this whole game soon enough. When Freddy explained the meaning of the triangular markers, Gregory sounded out a long: “Ooooh. That makes sense,” as he catalogued the tip away.

When Gregory's ball came back he had patiently waited for Freddy's turn to be over before lining up his shot. Every bit of advice from Papa Bear helped—this time Gregory's shot had hit the pins dead on! Though his throw did need some work, as he’d only put enough force behind the throw to knock down five out of ten.

“See? You are getting better already!” Freddy hummed softly as the boy waited eagerly at the ball return. “I wonder if Michael and Charlie are any good at bowling...”

Surely the pair had spent their fair share of days in a bowling alley back in their youth, though that didn't mean much for their current states. Still, it put another grin on Freddy's face to think of them joining their brother for a game, staring a friendly competition between the group that he had a feeling Mike and Gregory would get way too into before the day was over.

Michael and Gregory were sure to butt heads during a little friendly competition. Then while they’d be distracted trying to one up the other in the scoreboards, Charlie or Freddy would gain a leg up over the both of them. It was bound to happen, and Gregory could see himself falling into that trap.

“Guess we'll have to see when they're done!” Gregory remarked, looking towards the entrance as his voice took on a jaded affect. “I hope they didn't get stuck at Fazerblast. That was a freaking nightmare.”

“I am sure they are just fine,” Freddy reassured, willing the statement to be true. He handed Gregory the glittering purple sphere once it rolled back to them. “Your turn again, superstar—good luck!”

***

At that moment, three things happened simultaneously: Gregory's bowling ball struck down the remaining five pins, earning him a spare and ardent praise from Freddy; Michael finally completed the last area in Princess Quest III, freeing the princess from the glitching, shrieking rabbits; and Vanessa jolted upright in bed with a gasp as if she'd been submerged underwater for a very long time.

The night guard had been trapped in a nightmare—a strange, 8-bit style world where she was a little princess made of yellow blocks having to fend off purple rabbits that snapped at her everywhere she went. She'd had these dreams before, though this was the first time she remembered them. Usually she'd just wake up screaming, sweat drenching her pajamas and sheets as her heart hammered against her ribcage. She never knew what scared her until this moment, and while most of the memories were still vague and floating just out of reach, she was sure of one thing: she'd done something bad.

“Oh fuck...,” she breathed, pressing a hand over her mouth as a few memories made it through in flashes: a strange rabbit standing in an old Pizzeria—

No, it was virtual. Not a real location—at least, not the one she’d seen.

Vanessa used to be a beta tester. She... something went wrong, and she... she got infected.

Since then, she'd never been herself—she saw things through a purple lens, all false happiness and the need to bring a certain “family” back together, though at the moment she couldn't recall any names. And to do that, she'd been commanded to capture children, and—

Vanessa bolted out of bed, rushing to bathroom and promptly throwing up the contents of her stomach into the toilet. Groaning from the physical and mental weight suddenly thrust upon her, she coughed out a faint cry.

“O-Oh god... what the fuck have I done...”

***

“I did it!” Michael exclaimed, the furrowed lines of concentration on his brow relaxing as the console played a victorious jingle. This was quickly covered by an inhuman screech of pure rage that made him and Charlie flinch back, before the screen flashed ERROR in bright red text three times before shutting off completely. Glancing at Charlie out of the corner of his eye, Mike gulped. “I... hope that was a good thing.”

Charlie approached the console with a hand outstretched. She jiggled the joystick, pressed the start button. Suddenly the air became thick with a tension she only felt when William was around—specifically when he was angry or upset.

And yet, they were completely and totally alone in the neon attraction.

“Uhhh...” Charlie blinked, her brows furrowed at the now powered-down arcade game. “I... I don't know if that did anything...”

That wasn't what she expected to happen. Then again, what should’ve happened? Some blinding flash of light, or a sudden message from Vanessa thanking them for helping her?

When it became just their reflections staring back against an infinitely black backdrop of the game screen, Charlie moved away. Shuffling about the messy office instead, Charlie looked at the various notes on Vanessa's desk before grasping a yellow post-it. This had a list of passwords on it, something they needed to gain control of Fazerblast with.

“We totally left Sophie down there way too long,” Charlie pointed out. She twitched her head towards the exit, silently suggesting they leave.

“Yeah… time to go,” Michael agreed, grabbing her arm as grounding reassurance to both of them as they exited the watchtower. From their vantage point, he scanned the arena for any sign of pissed-off purple rabbits, and upon finding nothing quickly ushered Charlie down and back to the room where Sophie awaited them.

“Sorry—that office was a mess,” Michael said as way of an excuse when they arrived at the guard’s side once again. “We found the password, though.”

Before entering the game's lobby Charlie made sure to let go of Mike, still trying keep up the professional illusion. However, she was sure to give her best friend a reaffirming pat between the shoulders before parting ways to walk alongside him. Sophie raised a bushy brow at the pair, accepting their excuse of having to navigate the messy room easily.

“That reminds me—I should email Ness and tell her to straighten out the offices tonight,” Sophie thought aloud, taking the password from Charlie's silent but helpful fingers. “It's the least she could do for leaving us with all this other junk to clean up.”

It was probably how she ended up getting hurt, tripping over the cans and piled trash inside her office space. Plus it was always so dark in the Fazerblast location Ness seemed to favor... What the night guard saw in that tiny space was anyone’s guess.

“Yes—good idea.” Charlie pretended to know exactly what email was in order to give Sophie a nod. “Unfortunately, Mr. Afton and I have to make a run back to Bonnie Bowl and pick up his little cousin. Thank you for your help today, Sophie.”

“Yep—” Sophie turned, her attention now focused on logging into the terminal. She could just email Vanessa from there. “—I'll catch you guys later!”

“We’ll check that elevator damage on the way out,” Michael added over his shoulder, not wanting Sophie to think he and Charlie forgot the reason they’d gone to Fazerblast in the first place. By the time the androids trekked to the elevator in question Sophie managed to log into the computer and disable the attraction, letting it run on backup lighting and eerie silence. As they approached, the doors slid open a bit jerkily.

“Oof… they definitely can’t buff that out,” Mike commented with a grimace, examining what he could see of the dents and scrapes left by his last frantic escape with Gregory. He didn’t realize he’d caused that much damage—they’d need to replace the entire doors at this point.

Oh well… just another thing for maintenance to add to their list.

“I hope the other two are having fun, at least,” he said, pressing the button to take them up to the lobby once they were inside the elevator. He smiled, shoving his hands in his pockets as he looked at Charlie. “Do you think Freddy’s bowling fair and square, or do you think he’s letting Gregory win?”

Charlie had to take a moment to appreciate how Michael massacred the elevator doors. It would do well to remind Charlie that the same logic still applied from when he was a scrappy teen—never pick a fight with him. He was akin to a trapped animal in a battle, personified with his previous disguise as Foxy.

Charlie stepped into the lift after her friend and replied with a shrug. “Who’s to say he’s not beating Freddy? After all, he kicked your butt at Faz-Fighters.”

She may not ever feel inclined to enact physical violent on Michael (anymore), but sometimes it was too hard to resist poking fun at her best friend. Thinking on it, Charlie remembered Gregory saying that he desperately wanted to play at any of the attractions. The poor kid likely didn’t have much experience to against someone designed to be good at the themed games.

Charlie shook her head and replied seriously this time. “I’m sure Freddy’s going easy on him! Ooh—” Her eyes lit up with intrigue and a bright smile graced her features. “—I forgot Bonnie Bowl was where we got that pizza slushee! How do you feel about stealing another one with me?”

“Hell yes!” Michael readily agreed, eyes lighting up at the thought of yet another pizza-themed monstrosity. “Man, I’m so glad we can finally taste things again… I don’t know how I would’ve carried on knowing there was such a nasty drink just out of reach.”

Michael gave a dramatic sigh, doing his best to distract from the heavy air in the arena that faded with every foot the elevator climbed. They were soon deposited in the winner’s lobby, which hadn’t yet been replenished with a new Fazerblaster. It was unfortunate Mike hadn’t thought to snatch their old one from Foxy’s chest after he’d switched bodies… but then again, he’d have immediately shot at Ennard when they busted through that basement door, so it was probably for the best overall.

As much as Michael was loathe to admit, Ennard had been nothing but helpful this whole time. Creepy as hell… but helpful nonetheless.

A short walk and a few more elevator rides later, the sound of bowling ball impacting pins echoed through the air as Michael and Charlie slipped under the metal gate to Bonnie Bowl. Freddy and Gregory stood at the farthest lane, and Mike felt a smile tug at his lips at the sight of them. It was a weird sensation to see family that he actually loved after all his time of self-isolation—and he wasn’t ever going to give that up again.

“Hey, guys!” he greeted with a wave. “How’s the game going?”

Gregory was sitting on the bright plastic bench, turning around and gripping the backrest as he smiled to them.

“I suck at bowling!” he replied with a laugh. “It's been pretty fun though!”

“Glad you're having fun! I'm going to grab a drink, then I'll join!” Charlie said, ruffling his hair with a grin. Then she skipped over to the snack counter in search of the pizza slushee dispenser she found yesterday, ignoring the S.T.A.F.F. bot incessantly reminding her that customers weren’t allowed in the back.

“Bet—I got to find a bathroom,” Gregory announced, ready to wander off on his own for a moment. With things going so well, he’d gained a sense of ease that he knew would be sorely missing during night shift. Gregory was determined to take advantage of it, even for something as simple as a trip to the bathroom without worrying about being snatched by murder-rabbits. He opened his Fazwatch and glanced at the map, cross-checking the closest restroom on the bright interface as he began to walk.

“Gregory—” Freddy began, reaching a hand out towards him instinctively. He didn't like the thought of the boy wandering anywhere by himself, dayshift or not. Their overarching threat was far from gone, and it made Freddy uneasy to think of Gregory defenseless and alone without any of his family to help should something go wrong.

“I'll tail him,” Mike promised, immediately understanding the bear's distress. He echoed Freddy's unspoken sentiments to a tee, and though he figured Gregory might appreciate two seconds of peace without someone fretting over him, Michael wasn't quite ready to let him have that either. Still, he didn't have to stick close—just trail behind Gregory at a casual pace and keep watch.

“Let Charlie know we'll be right back, okay?” Michael told Freddy, giving him a reassuring pat on the back. He flashed the bear a grin and began lazily strolling after Gregory as the boy rounded a corner, for once feeling like he wasn't in rush to complete some potentially-traumatizing mission.

There was a customer's bathroom on the total opposite end from where they’d been bowling. It was closer to the counter, but Charlie had apparently decided to be nosy and snoop around the back out of sight. Shrugging to himself, Gregory pushed open the door with a Freddy silhouette and entered the boy’s room. He shot a cursory glance around, eying each stall as he passed—just in the spirit of being careful when Gregory perceived himself to be alone.

But then, he spotted it.

Sitting on the corner of the farthest sink, tucked against a long mirror was a plushie. Not just any plush random one that could be found in the Pizzaplex, either. No, this doll was clearly special.

The color scheme was different to any of the normal Glamrocks. This particular Freddy's satin was a pretty golden hue, accent stripes a vibrant purple instead of blue. Its shape differed as well, looking heavier with a sagging body like it was filled with more cumbersome stuffing. The sight of it had distracted Gregory from what he came in to do, all attention pulled to the toy.

It was odd—certainly out of place as well. When its eyes followed Gregory ever so slightly, he blinked and stopped in front of the sink.

No way is this an animatronic, Gregory thought. It was far too small. Though down the opposite trail of thinking, DJ Music Man shouldn't logically exist either.

“Uh… hello?” Gregory asked, hoping for the small robot to respond kindly if it even had a voice box.

***

Michael had parked himself just outside the restroom, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed as many a parent did when waiting for their kid. He wasn't worried about following Gregory inside, as there was only door and he doubted there was anyone waiting in there that aimed to do his little brother harm.

And there he waited, completely unaware of Gregory's discovery and what was about to happen.

***

The little plushie was tracking Gregory's movements, having eagerly awaited his arrival. It wasn't quite an animatronic—at least, not one with full, working limbs. It had some moving parts, but those weren't supposed to be revealed yet; not until the time was just right. The best it could do for now was swivel its eyes back and forth, which was enough to get its target's attention. It couldn't even open its mouth to simulate talking, the plastered on smile remaining still as a voice responded:

“Hi!”

The voice was... strange. Like someone trying to intentionally pitch themselves higher, and also putting on a weird accent. Or maybe trying to hide their original one? Either way, it was enough to keep Gregory's attention, and as the boy's eyes widened the bear beckoned him closer.

“I'm Fredbear! Do you wanna be friends?”

Oh, Gregory thought, taking a step closer. Not an animatronic in the traditional Freddy's sense, meant to sing and dance upon a stage. It was consumer grade—so small and harmless that a child could pick one up and bring it home with them. Probably even operated on double-A batteries. It was cute.

This must be the prototype, Gregory thought as he cocked his head to the side while listening to it. Its voice box left much to be desired, and he couldn’t help but wonder with a pang of sadness why this little guy was left alone in a gross bathroom of all places.

“Heh. I don't know,” Gregory replied with a smirk. “I've already got one Freddy to deal with... But I don't have a Fredbear.”

Even if the moniker was simply a nickname for his favorite bear, they were surely different. Still, he hesitated in picking it up. What if he was stealing this from some poor kid who lost their toy in the bathroom?

…He probably shouldn't have left it in there to begin with, then, Gregory concluded in his mind. He snatched the toy, holding it out at arm’s length to inspect it.

“Sure! Let's be friends, Fredbear!”

And this was the trigger the little toy needed.

Gregory had been so distracted by its novelty, he hadn't noticed the seam running straight down the center of the bear's golden torso. The squeeze to the plushie's sides upon being picked up spurred the internal mechanisms to action, which first prompted two sharp pincers to grasp the inside fabric of the bear's tummy and rip it apart, popping the seam’s stitches in less than a second. Before Gregory had time to react, the main function of the plushie was revealed.

It wasn't a toy at all—merely a device to serve another of William's twisted goals, as evidenced by the hypodermic needle full of glowing purple that shot out of the bear's stomach cavity and straight towards Gregory. The syringe immediately went through the boy's shirt and implanted itself painfully in the center of his chest. Not giving him time to struggle free, one of the metal pincers whipped out of the bear's torso and depressed the plunger, sending the Remnant directly into Gregory's body.

The long, medically sharpened tool had pierced through Gregory's sternum, beveled hole stabbing straight through towards his heart like a shot of adrenaline.

Gregory was forced back as the air involuntarily left his lungs. There wasn't even time to scream as the fluid from the hollow sharp emptied its contents inside his torso. It didn't take long for a reaction to happen after that.

Gregory's back hit the tiled wall and he fell onto the seat of his pants, silently grappling with the shooting pain throughout his body. Unable to move save for involuntary twitches and desperate gasps, Gregory met his own gaze in the mirror and watched as he floundered for air on the ground. He sucked in painful lungfuls, but the oxygen only seemed to set his body ablaze in a paralyzing burn.

Was this what dying was like? And did he really have to die alone on the bathroom floor…?

It was a moment before the needle slowly extracted from his chest. As Gregory slouched over, finally able to abandon his grip on the bear to now clutch the minute hole in his body, he ground his teeth down hard. The kid closed his eyes, trying to get a hold of himself and the pain that felt like it was ripping his very cells apart. After a bit longer, he could finally stand to breathe normally again. With painful tears pricking the corners of his eyes he opened them—only to find steely, devoid, silver irises staring back at him in his reflection.

This wasn't him.

At least, not the way he used to be.

Chapter Text

I am out of my mind
Can all of this be right?
It's not my time to die
Been thinkin' that all night
My soul you can't digest
The pounding in my chest
Feels like cardiac arrest
Time's tickin', feelin' pressed
I think I'm losin' my mind

~Out of My Mind by ChewieCatt~

Something was wrong.

Michael felt the sudden shift in the air, like something horrible just occurred right under his nose. He pushed off the wall with a frown, entering the bathroom cautiously as he called out for his brother.

“Gregory? Hey, are you—holy shit!”

Gregory laying prone on the floor and clutching his chest was the last thing Michael ever wanted to see. The kid had been staring in the mirror, and his gleaming eyes flickered to Mike's in the glass at his call. Quickly trying to assess the situation, Michael noticed the discarded gold and purple Freddy plush on the ground, its stomach ripped open to reveal sharp mechanical parts and a hypodermic needle.

An empty hypodermic needle.

“No...” Michael's voice was more of a groan, muffled by his hand as he instinctively covered his mouth. He felt like he was going to throw up as he lurched forward, needing to see if it was really true. There was no way in his one moment of lax judgement William actually managed to inject his horrendous, decades-long experiment into this innocent kid.

When he reached Gregory's side Michael crouched down, grabbing his shoulders and turning him around insistently but gently. Mike's hands were shaking and his unnecessary breath caught in his throat as he grabbed Gregory's wrist and slowly moved his hand, revealing the small hole in his shirt.

“N-No... Gregory... oh fuck...”

The boy grimaced with the movement, chest rising and falling in shallow breaths now. Pain as quickly as it came suddenly washed away. His head felt light, and everything had this cloudy and dreamlike texture to it. He could barely register it was Michael at his side, the color slowly draining from Gregory's face as he stared on ahead.

Silver eyes...

Gregory didn't even recognize his own reflection now. Too pale. A deep depersonalization took place as the boy began to pass out, his heartbeat far too much to keep up with as he slowly faded from consciousness.

5 seconds...

10 seconds...

20 seconds later, and Gregory managed to flutter his eyes open again. Now he stared at the ceiling with a darkened shadow in his peripheral. Gregory first let out a cough, his lungs feeling agitated from the momentary oxygen starvation. Then, when he realized there was someone trying to lift him into their arms, his head slowly turned.

“Michael..?” Gregory grunted out, squinting at him. “Uh... I think I passed out...”

“Okay, it's okay... d-don't worry, I'll take care of you... shit...” Michael's muttering was almost incoherent. Whatever the hell just happened was terrifying and honestly looked like the kid had died for a few seconds there—and the fact that he might actually have made Michael want to scream.

He managed to keep this inside, lifting Gregory up in his arms as he ran back to the others.

Why did he think he could take care of another little brother? He'd already had a chance, and that one ended up dead at age ten thanks to his own hand. Gregory might be older, but Michael had only known him for less than three days before he got injected with the immortal essence of dead children's souls on his watch. Whatever this ended up doing to the poor kid's body had already changed him forever. There was no going back from the Remnant—even Michael knew that much.

As he burst into the bowling alley, he found it hard to articulate what just occurred through the internal screaming clouding his mind.

“Gregory! He—in the bathroom, there was—I couldn't save him in time, I didn't know, I... oh my god, I... I did it again... He's...”

“Michael? Michael!” Freddy exclaimed, rushing over and trying to pry the boy from his death grip. Mike willingly let him go, curling into himself and shaking like a leaf as he watched Gregory with wide, terrified eyes. Freddy looked to his son, noting his sluggish nature as the boy practically flopped against his chest. “Gregory, what happened? Are you alright?!”

Charlie had just finished inserting both hers and Michael's names on the scoreboard roster when he came bursting over with a speed and urgency she hadn't seen since Roxy Raceway. Recognizing the limp lump passed between Mike and Freddy, Charlie jumped up and over the bench to stand beside them.

Gregory had his eyes closed, though he could move just fine. His hand rose up, trembling from the aftershocks of the pain he’d endured. He was able to form a thumbs up with said hand, though it fell onto his chest.

No explanations, Gregory thought. Only sleep.

Charlie reached out, gently patting his face. When that didn’t seem to do much she slapped his cheeks to jostle him awake.

“No—Gregory, stay awake. Please don't go to sleep,” she said urgently. She then looked to Michael, who seemed more scared than ever. “What happened?! He was gone for a second!”

Michael squeezed his eyes shut and let out a deep breath, reigning in his horror just long enough to explain: “H-He... I took him to the bathroom, and he didn't come out for a while so I went to check, a-and... he was on the floor, with an old Fredbear plushie next to him—like the one Evan used to have.”

Michael snapped his mouth closed, teeth clicking together, his arms wrapped around himself in a self-soothing hug as he pushed on.

“It... the bear was a trap. That fucking needle with Remnant was hidden inside its stomach, and by the time I got to Gregory, he... he'd already triggered it.” A full-body shudder wracked Michael's body as he stared at his bro—

No.

He didn't deserve to call Gregory that anymore. Not after this.

“Michael... are you saying that Gregory has been injected with this 'Remnant?'“ Freddy asked, his voice slower and colder than it had ever been.

The animatronic was having a hard time processing the emotion he was supposed to feel at the moment. There was an overwhelming sense of concern for Gregory, especially as he started to drift towards sleep again and caused Freddy to jostle him roughly to keep him awake until they figured out what the hell was going on. But Freddy also felt terror, uncertainty, and regret that he hadn't been there to protect his son when he needed him.

Michael could only nod in response, and Freddy's claw fisted the back of Gregory's shirt in an iron grip. The bear's gaze shifted to Charlie, hoping she might be more help than the clearly-distraught Mike. “Charlie, what does this mean? What is going to happen to him?”

Charlie looked between the boys, her mind working fast to unravel what’d gone down in the bathroom. She thought Gregory knew better than to just touch whatever he found lying around—but that was putting blame on him, she realized. Despite the brave front he was, after all, just a kid.

“I don't know! William, he...” Charlie tried to think, distracted as Gregory's head lolled to the side and finally opened his newly sensitive eyes for her to see. His pupils were empty now. Those hazel irises with their bright, green streaks now gone, replaced by a grey ring—while similar in their familiar pattern had now been muted by the Remnant.

“Fuck—his eyes!” Charlie shouted involuntarily, her hand clamping regretfully over her mouth as she backed into Michael without realizing it, just to escape Gregory's sharp and piercing gaze.

Gregory was out of it; the way he blinked and furrowed his brow made his mouth twist into a frown. Someone was shaking him earlier—

Oh, Freddy. He twisted lazily in the bear’s grip, blinking groggily up at his father.

“Dad... Come on... Tryin’ to sleep...” He groaned at the intrusion. “Why's everyone so upset..?”

Charlie didn't realize how horrible it was to being able to feel nausea again. Its affects were particularly unhelpful as she gazed upon her brother with fear.

He looked like him—and Charlie could never forgive herself for thinking that.

Michael had the same thought, unwrapping his self-embrace as Charlie backed into him only to grip her upper arms tightly. They clung to each other, both struggling to deal with the fact that Gregory was now cursed with exactly what William wanted: the chance for his “son” to be just like him.

“Oh fuck, Gregory, I'm... I'm so sorry,” Michael said in barely more than a whisper. To his surprise it wasn't Gregory that responded but Freddy, whose own ice blue eyes held a fire the likes of which no one had ever seen.

“What. Has happened. To my son?” he asked, tone equally as frigid as his gaze.

Gregory's eyes were unnervingly silver now, marking a full-body change that Freddy couldn't comprehend. A physical health scan proved inconclusive—for some reason, his sensors were having trouble reading the boy's vitals, which only heightened Freddy's distress. He stared hard between Michael and Charlie, not trying to blame them but knowing they were the only one besides William himself that could provide a semblance of an answer.

He could deal with whatever happened to Gregory; they'd get through it together. He'd promised the boy he'd take care of him no matter what. But he needed to know what the issue was before he could solve it.

“F-Freddy, we... we're honestly not one hundred percent sure,” Michael admitted, and the guilt radiating from him was palpable. His fingers were still locked around Charlie's arms in a vice grip, unwilling to get go until she physically shook him off. He didn't think Freddy could get this upset, and it only made him feel worse to see the kind-hearted bear hurting, too. “That stuff in his body, it... changes people. We don't know all the details, but we know that it makes them sort of... immortal.”

The grip around Charlie had grounded her, pulling her back to remember where she was. That Gregory wasn't going to hurt them, and that Michael was scared shitless for their brother's condition.

Had they lost another soul to William's ambition? Charlie's body shook at the intrusive thought.

“Gregory?” she asked, garnering his attention despite the feeling of his startling gaze sending a chill up her spine. “H-How are you feeling, little man?”

Gregory offered her a jaded shrug.

“Uh...” was all he managed, as if he had to think very hard on the matter. His mind was slow for the moment as the Remnant affixed to his very genes, giving his brain a slight restart in the process. He realized one thing, though: his stomach was growling.

“—Hungry. Kind of...,” he answered. Before jumping out of Freddy’s arms to grab the leftover slice of supreme pizza he glanced up at the bear. Gregory was glad he hesitated, as Freddy's near-crushing grip had him pinned against his chest. Slowly, in one fluid and calculated motion Gregory reached up and touched the side of Freddy's face.

“Dad? You're squishing me,” he told him in a voice that sounded like he'd been awake for a week. So exhausted, the others pondered how exactly Gregory had the strength to speak.

At the touch, Freddy looked down. The boy's silver eyes were jarring, disconcerting because of how far off they were from any semblance of normalcy... but though Gregory's voice was tired, his words held all that Freddy needed to prove this was still his boy.

“I am sorry, superstar,” Freddy replied, voice gentle as he released his grip and helped Gregory back to solid ground. The boy swayed for a moment, but Freddy held him up and half carried him over to the table, settling him in a chair before running a soothing claw through his hair. “I am going to be right over there speaking to Charlie and Michael while you eat, alright? Please call me if you need anything.”

At Gregory's muted nod Freddy moved away to let the boy finish his food, just out of his earshot but still close enough that he'd be at his side in just a few steps.

“God, Freddy, I can't... I don't even know what to say,” Michael murmured as the bear returned to his side. His gaze lingered on Gregory for a moment, hands absently rubbing Charlie's upper arms to keep them both in the present. Eventually, Mike heaved a sigh and looked up to Freddy, his gaze absolutely haunted. “He was literally out of my sight for less than five minutes...”

“Michael, it is not your fault.” The statement was resolute and didn't leave room for argument.

Yes, it would be easy to blame Michael—the man said he'd watch Gregory, and he failed. But Freddy could say the same for himself, or even Charlie to an extent; any of them could have been the one to turn their gaze away at the worst moment.

Shaking his head, Freddy added: “There is no one to blame for this but William. I simply wish we knew what this means for Gregory.” He tilted his head, frowning as best he could with the animatronic's joints. “You said he is... 'immortal,' now?”

Charlie pried one arm free from Michael, only to wrap it around his waist instead and rest her head on his shoulder, grip tight and protective. He was blaming himself again, but she refused to do the same. Charlie couldn’t stand herself if she did that to Michael a second time, especially because he wasn't the cause of Gregory's forced medical experiment in the first place. Watching Gregory pick at his pizza, the kid looked absolutely out of it.

Was he even aware of what just happened to him?

…It didn't seem like it.

“William's the only one I saw that injected himself with it. It did the same to him, with the eyes. Then, he only got worse—and after the springlocks went off…” Charlie shivered, tucking her face further under Michael’s chin. “I-It was like... Like he refused to be human after that.”

Whatever would become of Gregory was a mystery, but Charlie knew she’d never let him go down the same path. Even so— “We'll have to keep an eye on him. I-I dread thinking about what could be happening to him now...”

Never before had Charlie shown her worry so openly. Normally, she’d be assuring the rest of them that things would turn okay.

But how was Gregory going to be fine after this? was the only thought screaming in her head, the optimism now banished from her mind as she watched Gregory attempt to eat his pizza.

He chewed on a tough piece of meat, and it fell from his mouth. Gregory didn't even notice as he bit off another piece. He was quickly gaining his strength and awareness back, though still felt mainly confusion and hunger for the time being.

“Well, he is certainly nothing like William, so that will not happen,” Freddy said, willing this to be true as he spoke the words aloud. There was no way he'd let Gregory turn into anything close to that horrible creature. Regardless of what happened to his body, Freddy was determined to keep Gregory's soul just as human as it'd always been.

Michael heaved a sigh, resting his head on the top of Charlie's as they held each other. He appreciated the reassurance and knew she felt the same.

“Okay, let's... let's try to find some positives here,” he began haltingly. It was a hard task, but he needed something to cling to besides the dread threatening to overcome him at any second. “So Gregory might be alive for a while, but... that also means he's more resilient, right?”

The image of the first time he'd seen William in the springlock suit decades after he'd been trapped crossed Michael's mind—a horrendous comparison, but it proved that the Remnant could withstand almost anything.

“Yes...,” Freddy said slowly, nodding a bit as he looked to Gregory. He was still eating, albeit with a distant look on his face. “In a way, this could help him in the long run.”

He'd much rather have his son back to normal again, but if this was his future they'd need to learn how to work with Gregory's new limitations and things he excelled at—whatever they might be.

Charlie would attempt to liken Gregory’s current, drowsy state with how he normally was when waking up from naps. Maybe the injection itself just caused him such stress, he felt like collapsing into a sleepy pile. The thought calmed Charlie a bit more as she relaxed against Michael. She watched Gregory finish off his cold pizza, then stretched his arms above his head and yawn. After slouching down in the bench, he'd rest his hands over his stomach and call to the rest of his family.

“Guys? Are we going to finish the game? It's like—” Gregory looked to his watch, having a hard time reading the time. “—late.”

“Should we just take him back to Freddy's?” Charlie asked, looking to Freddy and Michael.

It might not be a good idea to continue the physical activity, though Gregory seemed to want to get one more shot in. They’d stopped on his turn, and Gregory easily lifted the bowling ball he'd abandoned earlier. In one swift motion he sailed it down the lane, even in his sleepy state of mind managing to hit a fast and dead-on strike.

Freddy and Michael's mouths fell open in unison. Mike spared a side-eyed glance at the bear, noting his equivalent look of surprise. “...I'm guessing he wasn't that good twenty minutes ago?”

Freddy simply shook his head, quickly snapping his jaw shut and smiling as Gregory turned back to them with a hint of excitement in his silver eyes. Crouching down, Freddy held out his arms for a congratulatory hug. “Well done, superstar! You will surely have my score beat in no time!”

As Gregory made his way towards his dad, Michael finally detached himself from Charlie. “You're right, though—we should definitely go back. I think we all need to rest up before tonight. I don't know about you, but I'm already exhausted...”

Gregory had fallen into his father's hug. For some reason he felt scared; there was a weird anxiety rippling through him that was only quenched with the affection he received from his friends. Gregory hadn't spoken on what happened in the restroom either—but that was because his mind wasn’t allowing him to remember at the moment.

“I told you I'd get better!” Gregory boasted, showing off in front of his siblings. He was seemingly pushing himself to keep going despite his mental exhaustion. “Come on! You guys ready to get your butts kicked?!” Gregory shouted to them over Freddy’s shoulder as they embraced. Charlie forced a smile.

“We're going to turn in for the evening, buddy. We're all sort of tired after today,” Charlie explained for the group. There would be no budging on this, even as Gregory's smile turned into a... glare?

If looks could kill, oh man.

The anger faded quickly, devolving into a normal pout, but the mere action made Charlie raise a brow in Gregory’s direction before he conceded. There would be no way to change her mind, and the decision was made final by the group. Still, Charlie wasn't the only one worried about his sudden unprompted flash of anger.

“—Yeah... Yeah, I'm pretty tired, too,” Gregory agreed, looking away.

“It is for the best that we rest, Gregory,” Freddy soothed, picking him up to carry him back to the room. At this point he didn't care who saw him toting around the boy, as they'd been together all day—and regardless of who held him, Freddy wasn't going to let Gregory walk just yet if he could help it.

Still, he turned to Michael and tilted his head in silent question, giving him the opportunity to take Gregory instead if he wished to keep up appearances. Mike was flattered by Freddy's trust, but quickly shook his head. The bear might be confident in his abilities to take care of the kid, but Michael wasn't so sure. The incident in the bathroom rattled him to his very core, and while Gregory's fate wasn't as utterly gruesome as Evan's, it was still traumatic.

Despite Freddy and Charlie's insistence, it would be a long time before Michael could accept that it really wasn't his fault.

“Let's go,” he said, turning away from the group and starting forward. He just wanted to get back to the comfort of Freddy's room and sit down on the couch to contemplate the day's events. Or, better yet—he wondered if the charging pods were soundproof. Maybe he could go inside Freddy's personal one and scream out his frustration for a bit...

The staff were too busy to pay the quarter any mind, running around like chickens without their heads—or crushed in a trash compactor—to try and salvage what they could of the crumbling Pizzaplex before the CEO returned Monday morning. This place was a mess and so was its employees, including the false ones with the forlorn faces.

This day was supposed to be fun. A break from the terror of night; respite before they took down the ghost who’d cursed them all for good.

And now? Gregory was... dead? Alive? Something in between?

Charlie looked at him, trying to feel for a soul inside his small body. When she clocked the souls of many, she felt sick to her stomach. Unabashedly, she reached for Michael's hand and grasped it, holding on silently for both of their well-beings.

Gregory was stubbornly trying to keep awake, Charlie’s vivid instruction not to sleep hanging in his mind. He glanced at his siblings over Freddy’s shoulder and they weren’t joking around like usual. They really must be just as tired as him.

“Mike. Charlie...,” he voiced quietly, silently thinking they were acting like a bunch of sad-saps on a log. “You both look like you smelled a bunch of updog...”

Michael startled slightly as Gregory called his name, lost in thought and not expecting the boy to speak. He frowned, squeezing Charlie's hand to assure her that he was fine as he looked towards Gregory questioningly. Even though Gregory was barely conscious, he'd still managed to set the perfect trap for Michael's tired mind to fall into. "'Updog?' What's updog?”

“Heh...” Gregory laughed out once, lips curling into a grin. “Not much, dog; what's up with you?”

Head finally too heavy to keep up on his own, he propped his cheek up on Freddy's shoulder to watch as Charlie's long expression folded into a slight smile. Her eyes crinkled slightly as she laughed, convinced that Gregory was still him.

Gregory was happy to fall asleep to that laugh. He'd always thought of it as a beautiful chime, reminiscent of Puppet’s music box in a strange way—so genuine and hearty, like she laughed with her whole diaphragm and soul to boot. Even better, Gregory had expertly tricked his brother before completely succumbing to sleep, chest gently rising and falling as the darkness overtook him safe in Freddy’s arms.

“Wha—oh, you little—” Michael couldn't even finish the insult, devolving into a fit of laughter right along with Charlie. He had to concede that Gregory got him good, which only meant he'd have to find a better way to trick the kid next time. Gregory had no idea what war he'd just started.

As the boy finally drifted off to sleep, Michael's emotions did a quick 180 and his face slipped into a grimace of pure, unadulterated guilt. Thankfully there were no staff around to see him as he clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle a sob, a few hot tears rolling down his cheeks as the gravity of what happened in the bathroom hit him like a truck.

Despite Gregory joking around like before, he'd never be the same again. And it was all Michael's—

A squeeze to his hand cut these thoughts off immediately. Michael looked to Charlie just as she reached up to wipe away a tear, making a big show of scrubbing the liquid off on her shirt as if it were something gross, her face twisted into a dramatic expression of disgust. She was trying to cheer him up again, and Mike was eternally grateful. He gave her a playful shove, rubbing the rest of the tear streaks off his face and chuckling quietly. 

“I'm so getting him back for that... he has no idea what's coming to him,” Michael vowed, referring to Gregory's little prank. Freddy understood, choosing to ignore whatever choked-off cry he'd heard earlier in favor of smiling softly and letting out a small laugh of his own.

Charlie couldn't stand to see Michael blame himself for this. How do you explain to someone who watched their whole family die around them that this wasn't his fault either—and have them believe you fully on top of it?

“We could tickle his nose when he's asleep—get him with the old whip cream to the face prank,” Charlie suggested. She would ignore her own sadness in favor of cheering up her friend and pretend everything was fine until it wasn’t.

Yet everything was different now.