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angelofrainfrogs · 5 months

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Going Back: Ch. 21

~Coauthored by @zeitghest~

Fandom(s): Five Nights At Freddy’s: Security Breach

Description: Things are looking up for Gregory. After putting the soul of a formerly-immortal killer to rest, he and his new family can finally begin their lives anew. Sure, Gregory might have been cursed with mysterious Remnant in exchange for being involved in this mess—not to mention his caretakers consist of sentient robots and ghosts… But there’s no doubt that the bond they share is unbreakable. They love him, and he in turn.

All in all, life is finally starting to go right for once.

…Unfortunately, true peace is a hard-won battle. There are other things to contend with besides William’s decrepit soul, and Gregory will learn that his role in the lives of the Aftons and Emilys is far greater than anyone could’ve imagined.

Rating: T

Read on Ao3

After an uneventful walk back to the office, Michael found it somewhat alarming to find Charlie and Freddy inside waiting for him. Alone and without Gregory, Charlie was leaning against the wall with her arms crossed a worried expression on her face as she listened to their resident Papa Bear. Her pinpoint focus was distracted only when Michael’s familiar shape fell over the doorway.

“Speak of the devil,” Charlie remarked, interrupting Freddy’s quiet train of thought.

“Hey,” Michael greeted with a wave and a curious tilt of his head. “You gossiping about me behind my back? My office isn't exactly the best place to do that, y'know."

“Hello, Michael,” Freddy responded with a chuckle, expression softening at the appearance of the trustworthy night guard. “We were not talking about you specifically, although you are a relevant part of the conversation. We were discussing Gregory's future.”

“...Ah.” With a low exhale, Michael plopped into one of the swivel chairs. Just one thing after another tonight. At least this was far less stressful than trying to wrangle Ennard through the Pizzaplex.

Hopefully.

“Well, the kid's got a long future ahead of him,” Michael remarked, crossing one knee over the other. “Anything in particular you're fretting over right now?”

“For one,” Charlie said, her voice gentle as she didn't want to particularly stress out her family. Well—not overstress them. “His sleep schedule. The kid's eyebags have bags at this point... It’s just one more thing that could attract unnecessary attention.”

Numbering the items off on her fingers, she moved onto the next from her mental list. “His eyes glow now. You can kind of see it in the light, too, so… We should be prepared if more things change about him.” She grimaced. “Not just physical stuff, either.”

It was something she’d feared since the incident in the bathroom: if Gregory's mental state may begin to deteriorate just as William's had. She'd like to pretend that Gregory was strong—that he could fight and suppress any unhinged thoughts or urges. Michael had seemed to be alright in the end, if a bit more melancholy than she remembered... but those subjected to Remnant were so few and far between, they only had case studies to work from rather than standard bullet points of what to expect. It scared Charlie not knowing exactly what this Remnant serum was going to do to their little brother in the long run.

“...You guys noticed the eyes, too?” Michael asked.

“Yes.” Freddy nodded, unease returning to his features. “At first I thought it was just a trick of the light, but there is definitely something otherworldly about them. It does not bother us, of course, though it is certainly something to be wary of if we wish to reintegrate him into society someday.”

“Freddy... I think that kid is as far from 'reintegration' as one could get at this point,” Michael pointed out, and the ursine man had to concede with a sigh.

“I am aware. However, we can at least try and give his life some semblance of normalcy—as Charlie pointed out, his sleep schedule is a good place to start.” Freddy idly glanced at the cameras, catching sight of the Glamrocks yet again huddled together making plans. A faint smile ghosted over his lips. “On a side note, as much as I would love to provide him with a standard education, I simply do not think that will be in anyone's best interest. I have heard mention of 'online schooling', which I will look into. Tangentially, as far as his sleep schedule goes... until we figure out a few other aspects of all our lives, I believe he may be better suited to fully commit to a night-shift schedule.”

“Yeah?” Michael perked up at this. He'd been gearing up to accept only seeing his brother in passing, but if Freddy deemed the nightlife was Gregory's future, that would be fantastic.

“There is really no reason for him to be awake during the day—Charlie and I will soon be working come next week, so he will either be only with you or alone,” Freddy explained. “It is not safe for the children to roam during the dayshift, and since everyone except Sam and Gregory himself are robots or ghosts, we do not have to worry about sleeping nearly as much as he does. Therefore, I feel it would be more beneficial to his well-being to come here at night like we have been—at least for now.”

Charlie had agreed somewhat, though she was biting her lip in anxiety. She was clearly off-put by something but refrained from speaking of it until now so Freddy could get his thoughts out first.

“About the online school thing,” Charlie said, clearing her voice as she looked between the boys. “So, this is going to sound hypocritical and weird. Trust me, I know, but... We should try to encourage Gregory to make friends like him, and that might be a good way to do that."

He was already shaping up into an oddity, but what Charlie saw earlier that day had legitimately brewed worry in her, causing her to strike up this conversation with Freddy in the first place.

“I noticed he plays very roughly when he's with the twins. Cassidy, too. They can't feel pain so I’m not worried about their safety or anything, but... I just don't want Gregory getting the impression that hurting people is some kind of game. I don't know; maybe we can talk to him about being a little gentler?”

…What an awful time to be accidentally eavesdropping.

Gregory stood like a stone, back pressed firmly against the wall near the office door. He strained to hear everything they were saying with their hushed voices, and managed well. He almost wished he wasn't really hearing it though; it felt like he should just walk back to his friends and continue their hang-out session. But the way Charlie spoke about how he played made him feel like some sort of monster...

“...Ah. Right.” Freddy's face twisted in worry. “I am sorry, I got so caught up in the idea of trying to make things easy for him... but you are right. He must understand that he cannot interact with other children the way he does with those living in the Pizzaplex.”

He paused, chewing his lip in thought. “Perhaps we can shift his schedule so he does get a bit of interaction time with normal children, through whatever means we can. I will speak to him about roughhousing with the others.”

“I can try and talk to the kids, too,” Michael added, trying to help. “Or at least ask Henry to talk to them—not sure how well they'll listen to me.”

He gave a half-hearted laugh, though it only garnered a small smile from Freddy. Putting his feet flat on the ground, Michael leaned forward and grasped his hand. “Hey. It's gonna be okay, Freddy. We might not know exactly what that stuff's going to do to him down the line, but we can handle it. Alright?”

“I know,” Freddy nodded, squeezing the reassuring grip. “Of course I know we can. I just do not want Gregory to feel as though he is... not normal—not more than he already does.”

That cemented it. If he wasn’t a freak, they wouldn’t even having this conversation. Gregory needed to chill out. With no one to calm him down and run their fingers through his hair, it left only himself to do the job and attempt to self-soothe. Though it really didn’t feel right; maybe he was becoming too dependent?

They loved him now, he didn’t doubt that. But based on past experience, “love” generally came at a price. What would happen if his condition got worse? If it morphed into something they couldn’t deal with?

Inside the room, Charlie agreed with Freddy. “Yeah! Baby steps, you know? One day, Gregory’s going to want to be more independent. It’s our job to make sure he’ll be fine on his own when that time comes. But for now, we’re going to show him how much he means to us and be there as a family.”

It won’t be a long time from now, Charlie could see it. In four years, he’ll be able to drive. In six, he’ll legally be an adult. Soon enough, Gregory might not even need them anymore.

Charlie tried not to think this way. If they treated him well and raised him right, Gregory would always be their friend.

“Of course,” Freddy agreed immediately, frowning as an unfamiliar emotion burrowed itself in the base of his heart.

Charlie was right—Gregory was a child, and that meant that he was going to grow up someday. That had been their goal last weekend, after all—to keep him alive so he could have that opportunity. It was what they all wanted, and even though Gregory might not be “normal” anymore, he was still just a growing boy deep down. It was clear he cared for his surrogate family, of that Freddy had no doubt, and he loved the boy more than life itself.

So why did he feel a dull pang of hurt in his chest when he thought about the future?

It wasn't that far off—according to his records, children technically reached “adulthood” when they turned eighteen. That didn't necessarily mean they were all ready to set out in the world on their birthday, but it did for some. And Gregory was already such a resourceful, smart boy...

Freddy had literally given up his old life and body to take care of his son. Would there ever come a day when Gregory didn't... need him anymore?

“Fredbear? You okay?” Michael asked, watching the man have what appeared to be a major internal crises. Freddy had been staring at the ground for quite some time, looking utterly distraught. When Michael spoke he glanced up with a gasp, though he quickly composed himself.

“Yes, I am fine; my apologies,” the ursine man reassured.

No more thinking like that—we have many happy years together ahead of us.

Suddenly, a sound attracted Freddy's attention: the unmistakable squeak of sneaker against linoleum floor. His eyes flicked towards the open doorway, through which a tiny shadow could be seen ducking out of sight. “...Superstar? Are you out there?”

Wipe that sad look off your face now, Gregory thought to himself, pretending someone else was shouting at him to push down those emotions. You weren't about to see your dad and sister cry because of you. You were just walking over to ask for a few bucks for chips.

Gregory sure could play the part when he wanted to, poking his head around the corner and forcing an easygoing smile; he would pretend that he wasn't walking in on the most emotionally turbulent conversation he'd witnessed from his family.

“Heeey, can I get a few bucks for the vending machines? No one else had money on them.” Them meaning the dead friends his family seemed to suddenly have an issue with. “Surprisingly. Hahaha...” Gregory laughed at his own joke, throwing away the key to his feelings on this one.

The trio simply stared at Gregory for a moment, all of them looking very guilty. How much of that had he heard?

Soon, their gazes turned to each other. United in the face of not upsetting Gregory further, they telepathically agreed that Freddy would be the best one to handle this.

“I can get you a snack, Gregory,” he said in his gentle tone, pulling out a few bills from a back pocket that Sam had lent him earlier for this exact situation. Freddy didn't hand the money over though, instead holding it close to his chest with a questioning tilt of his head. “Do you mind if I come with you? I feel as though I have not seen you in a while, since you have been having so much fun with your friends!”

He gave a soft laugh, hoping the boy would agree to spend some much-appreciated alone time with his dad.

Gregory did tell the ghosts he'd be gone for a minute to catch up with Freddy and whoever else the bear may have been hanging out with. They shouldn't be expecting him back soon, but the kid couldn't help but think this might be a ploy for some lecture.

Gregory then thought that maybe he should trust his dad more, considering all they’d gone through together. Yet how could he when the things he was hearing behind closed doors was suspect?

The boy gave Freddy a pinched smile.

“'Course you can, Dad,” he said, attempting to be playful. Gregory hadn't heard a thing. “I was feeling one of those ready-to-eat taquitos by El Chip's?”

“Whatever you would like,” Freddy said amiably, pressing a gentle hand on Gregory's back to urge the boy forward. He sent a quick wave over his shoulder to Mike and Charlie, who gave him an encouraging thumbs-up when Gregory turned away.

The pair walked in silence for a short while. For once, the quiet was strained. They both knew that the other knew something was going on. Of course, it was Freddy who broke the peace, glancing down at his son while they strolled idly towards the main atrium.

“Gregory... I do not know how long you were standing out there, but I can guarantee you heard something of our discussion,” he remarked slowly, not wanting to push too much, too fast. Gregory had a tendency to shut down or turn his feelings inwards when pressured—it was something they were working on together, even if neither of them said it outright. Instead of being angry or upset at him for listening in, Freddy's gaze held only inquisitive concern. “May I ask what you were privy to?”

I'm a weirdo with no friends. I'm going to grow up and be a monster, and there's nothing anyone can do to help me. I'll be like my shitty foster dad. Or like William... Or WORSE.

Gregory appeared to gather his thoughts, when it was really just him trying his best not to shout the intrusive ones aloud. He didn't want to freak out his bear-dad. Gregory didn't even know if he had something to really worry about to begin with. When it came to his health, everything they mentioned seemed like a concern.

“I'm... different. Too different to have living people around,” Gregory said, not sugar-coating what he overheard. Gregory's arms came up to hug himself as he repeated what he interpreted from the chat he'd barged in on. He spoke with a powerful melancholy in his voice, like he already accepted that one day, he might wake up different or straight up dead altogether. “I might not live long as a real person, 'cause of that dumb purple stuff I was shot with...”

Freddy pursed his lips. He hated hearing Gregory talk like this—plus, some of his interpretations were just wrong.

“...Follow me,” Freddy said, leading the boy into an alcove nearby. Perching on a bench, he patted the open spot next to him. “Sit with me for a moment, superstar.”

As Gregory did as instructed, Freddy thought over how best to explain this. The last thing he wanted was for Gregory to feel unimportant or that he was a burden.

“First and foremost, please know that we were only talking about what is best for you,” Freddy reassured, grasping one of Gregory's hands in his own. “And I also want to assure you that I will never make major life decisions for you without consulting you first. Your siblings and I were simply discussing 'what ifs.' And speaking of—” His face melted into a kind smile. “—you are not too different to have living people around. That is not what we were saying. Yes, the Remnant altered your body in ways we do not fully understand yet—but that does not mean you are unable to be around others. It simply might be a bit of an adjustment interacting with 'typical' children due to your strength. That is all.”

Gregory was a little confused, so sure they’d been speaking as if he was too strange to be kept around less “specialized” kids. Not only was that the opposite of the truth, but they weren't planning on separating him from his old friends either. In that moment, it really hit Gregory just how much he may be overthinking things because of his former living arrangement...

“I... I think I get it now.” Gregory nodded his understanding to Freddy, his trembling hand clutched tight around his dad’s. Tears threatened to break as his lip wobbled while trying to work his way through his next question. “You promise you guys don't think I'm weird or that I'm going to turn into a monster?”

Freddy's face ran through a range of emotions in quick succession: confusion, understanding, regret, compassion.

“Oh my goodness... Gregory, you are not a monster,” he reassured, reaching over to scoop the boy into his lap and wrap him in an all-encompassing bear hug. “We love you so much and we would do anything to make sure you are safe and happy. No one thinks you are 'weird' or 'evil' or whatever other negative word you might come up with to describe yourself. And also—” He tightened his hold, pressing a quick kiss to the top of Gregory's head. “—you are going to live a long and prosperous life. If anything, you will live longer than expected due to the Remnant—so please do not speak of... of dying anytime soon.”

It was hard for Freddy to say the word aloud, as if that would somehow manifest the concept into existence.

Gregory relaxed against his dad quietly, time passing where it was merely him just trying to calm his breathing down. Freddy wouldn’t lie to him—in fact, he was almost certain that Freddy was incapable of leading him astray.

“I’ll be fine…,” Gregory said, speaking it out loud. He was fine physically, especially when he had his robotic guardian here to tell him that he was going to be a-okay. Even so Gregory didn’t know how to feel about the future. It was slowly approaching—soon he would be thirteen. While the changes in him had slowed down after the initial night he was injected, who knew what’d happen when teenage hormones were mixed with the chemicals flowing in his veins.

Still, Gregory had to let go of those fears for now if he was ever going to have hope.

“Thanks, Dad,” he murmured into Freddy’s soft sweater. “I feel a lot better…”

“Good; I know it is hard to talk about these things, but I am always here to listen,” Freddy let him know. “And I am sure anyone would lend you an ear, especially Charlie and Michael. They absolutely adore you, you know.”

For another moment they lapsed into silence, simply enjoying the company of family neither thought they’d ever have. Eventually, Gregory’s patience for sitting still was nearing its end, and Freddy smiled when he felt him start to wriggle.

“Alright—let us go on a little adventure,” he announced, shifting Gregory to his feet and grasping one of his hands. He shot the boy a look of playful chiding—

—not anger. Never anger when it came to Gregory’s curiosity.—

—and asked: “Now, were you actually hungry, or was just that an excuse?”

Most kids his age might be embarrassed at their parents trying to hold their hands. Gregory was just elated that he had one who cared enough to keep him at his side. Gregory wouldn’t ever complain about it; it showed him that Freddy cared.

“Oh yeah, I came up to ask for money for real,” Gregory insisted with an excitable nod. He was starving. “I have to get back to my friends right after. We’re playing Manhunt and they think I suck right now.”

Freddy chuckled, glad that Gregory was having fun with the others. Though it’d be good for him to make human friends as Charlie suggested, at least he’d always have the ghosts of the Pizzaplex to spend time with no matter what. As they climbed one of the powered-down escalators to reach El Chips, a flash of turquoise whipped out in front of them.

“Oh! Hello, Foxy!” Freddy called brightly. The animatronic had slipped out of Bonnie Bowl and was walking in their general direction. With a smile, Freddy waved him over. “I am sure you are busy getting the run of the place, but would you like a small break? I was just taking Gregory to get a snack—care to join us?”

Freddy knew the real reason the fox was rushing about, but he figured the party planning would be okay without him for a few minutes. Plus, Freddy had barely gotten to spend any time with his new-old friend without the Glamrocks, and was curious to know how he was coping with everything—especially with Michael’s influence ruminating in the back of his mind.

Foxy jumped, as if he was scampering about doing things he wasn’t supposed to. Which, technically, was true. Sun wasn't aware that Foxy plundered a lot of his candy or his Fizzy Faz supply. Though Foxy was sure that if he knew it was going as a contribution to Gregory’s party, Sun wouldn’t mind at all! Hiding the fat stack of soda and candy inside his chest compartment before turning on his peg, Foxy opened his arms wide with excitement.

“Absolutely! You’re both heading to Chip’s?” he asked, curious and trying to distract from the fact he was hiding something. If Foxy could get them to avoid walking through Music Man’s dance floor, the better. They didn’t need Gregory asking questions they simply couldn’t answer…

“We are,” Freddy replied with a nod. “Speaking of—here, superstar.” He pulled out a few bucks from his pocket and handed them over before sidling up to Foxy. He patted the pirate’s arm in a friendly gesture, grinning up at the animatronic brightly. “How are you adjusting to life at the Pizzaplex? I hope the others are not giving you too much trouble…”

Gregory was excited to see the familiar fox. While he knew that Michael no longer resided inside of the animatronic, Foxy had already proved himself to be a loyal friend. As the kid gave his leg a quick hug, Foxy carefully patted Gregory’s back while speaking to Freddy.

“Adjusting for certain! Been havin’ a few night terrors... Though Bonnie’s apparently been havin’ them, too,” Foxy replied with a casual and wholly unstressed shrug. “I think it’s my nerves! Having to perform on Monday and all—it’s going to be my first big gig!”

“Ah… I am sorry to hear that,” Freddy said empathetically. He felt a weird sense of guilt about the whole possession thing, especially the after-effects. Though he knew it wasn’t his fault in the slightest, Freddy’s intense involvement in the situation gave him an extra sense of responsibility towards those friends that were so greatly affected.

“Well, I am always here to talk if you need—but like you said, I am sure it is nerves,” the ursine man added calmly. Someday they’d tell Foxy what happened, but for now he could focus on his impending debut. Freddy patted the back of the pirate’s hook with a hearty laugh. “I know you will do fantastic, though!”

Talking about the band’s impending performance made him realize there was another factor he’d been meaning to discuss with Sam: what in the world were they going to do with his old model? They couldn’t just take Freddy Fazbear out of the line-up…

“It's fine—nothing more than my CPU keeping things interesting while I'm charging,” Foxy chalked it all up to be. Even if the deceptively smart robot had an inclination that the dreams really weren't normal, he was being coy about it.

Foxy walked beside his old friend, traveling with him as Gregory chose to run up ahead in search of his highly sought-after taquitos. He and Freddy moved at a leisurely pace, watching Gregory scamper in the distance.

“By the by, Fredbear...,” Foxy muttered quietly, lifting up his eyepatch to wink an unlit eye. “Make sure Gregory avoids the Dancefloor and DJ's place while we're setting up. We wouldn't want to ruin the surprise.”

“I can’t wait to hear you play drums!” Gregory remarked, Foxy’s attention snapping to the child mirthfully. He didn’t realize how quick it took Gregory to get back with his snacks, already pocketing Freddy’s change for himself and unwrapping the hot and ready taquito.

“I am excited as well!” Freddy said, his little smile signaling he understood the pirate's warning perfectly. “We have not had a drummer in the Glamrock Band yet, so I am very curious as to how things will work out!”

Yes, technically “working things out” on stage would soon be Freddy's job. But according to his employee log he'd only been hired a few days ago, so he was slotted to be trained for a little bit before he was given full creative control—despite the fact that Sam knew the former lead singer of the band could put on a better show than all the previous stage managers combined.

Sam had sort of found the dream team he always needed for the new admins of the Pizzaplex. With Michael and Charlie there to help, along with Freddy still leading his band from behind the thick velvet curtains, he'd have a lot less to worry about. After all that seemingly went wrong in one weekend, he couldn't risk another major loss.

“We'll have tomorrow morning to practice and figure it out! To be honest, Bonnie's had his head wrapped up in recent activities,” Foxy said with a flick of his wrist. “So we haven't been able to practice much! Aside from that, we're still technically missing our front-man.”

All this didn't help Foxy's nervousness, but he was programmed to be the best drummer ever conceived for the Pizzaplex.

“Roxy let me play her keytar! The ol' wolf got jealous over how much better I am than her at it. Now I'm not even allowed to look at it,” he half-joked, and Gregory could've sworn he'd heard this same story before though with the name changed from Roxy to Lizzie. Gregory found himself laughing at Foxy like he would at his brother for antagonizing their siblings.

“Sounds like you deserve it!” Gregory pointed out, munching on his taquito.

“—Yeah, you've got a point,” Foxy conceded, following the family on their lazy hike through his new home.

Freddy chuckled at the anecdote, happy that Foxy seemed to be doing just fine with his new companions. Michael's influence was strong in his personality, and Freddy idly wondered if Foxy would be able to sense the connection before it was blatantly pointed out.

“Ah, speaking of your missing front-man—” Freddy began, his brow creasing ever so slightly. “—I should speak to Sam about what exactly we are going to do come Monday. I do not know if he will have another animatronic up and running by then...”

It was weird to call the lead singer “Freddy,” and the ursine man knew it'd be even weirder when the bear was functional again. Looking to Gregory, Freddy inquired: “Do you want to come with me, superstar? I have a feeling Sammy may enlist your help when it comes time for it—this will be a slightly different process than re-activating the rest of the Glamrocks.”

Gregory had balled up the paper wrapper that the taquito came in, aiming for a nearby trash can as they passed. “Sure; if Sam needs my help, I'm there.”

“I'll tag along, too; that way I can report to the others later,” Foxy said, using his claw to brush through the long mane of hair on his head. Freddy was always the leader—even if this iteration of Foxy was new, he knew this intrinsically. It brought him to a state of unease not knowing what they’d do if they didn't have someone up there singing. Certainly they wouldn't let such a thing happen on opening day—that would just be irresponsible on Sammy's part.

“Of course—the more the merrier!” Freddy replied cheerfully. Now satisfied they had a direction, he led the charge to Sam's office. The door was closed as usual, which either meant Sam was working on something inside or he was out.

“Sam?” Freddy asked, knocking a few times. “Do you have a moment? I would like to ask you about something work-related!”

“Door’s open,” Sam called. This time he sounded wide awake, wired even. As the small group peaked in, Sam was clearly in the middle of something, though he wasn't so engulfed that he was unable to greet them with more than a passing question tossed over his shoulder. “Everything alright, Freddy?”

Sam was bent over the small work desk stowed into the corner of the larger office space, tinkering on the inside of a virtual reality headset. It looked as if he’d gutted the thing and moved on to reintegrating it's components with new parts.

“Yes, everything is fine.” Freddy led the others inside, making sure the door was closed behind the trio. He eyed Sammy's back curiously, wondering what in the world he was thinking up now. “Since the re-debut is fast-approaching, we wanted to ask you about your plans for my old body? I am assuming he will be up and running at some point, though I know it will be a different effort to get him to that level since I am no longer available...” He paused, tilting his head. “...What are you working on, if I may ask?”

Sam let out a small sigh. He was once again reminded of their deadline, and the clock was unforgiving.

“Remember when I said I was going to get some sleep?” Sam answered them with a question, finally turning around to scan the group.

“Yes?” Foxy answered, vaguely remembering Sam having to retire to his office to get some shut-eye. His sleep schedule was just as messed up as poor Gregory's at this point.

“—Right, well, I didn't.” Sam shrugged, heaving the half-conceived invention in his hands. “This is a Virtual Reality headset; it’s from an old venture that never panned out. I thought that maybe by taking some of its adapter capabilities and retro fitting it into Freddy—not you Freddy, but old Freddy; your old body—maybe you could control the empty animatronic!”

He spoke in an excited manner, which melted back into frustration with how long it'd taken him to even get this far. He sacrificed a lot of time on it—too much, really.

Sam carefully put the headset down on the workbench, eyeing it with a frustrated huff. “It's taking longer than I expected, though. The goal was to let you control your old body from offstage... If I can't get it working decently by tomorrow afternoon, I'll have to resort to plan B.”

Gregory raised his eyebrows, worried as Sam seemed to sway a little on his feet. He knew the feeling of nearly falling asleep while standing up all too well. Gregory helped steady his friend, and Sam looked surprised for a split-second before Gregory asked him: “What's plan B?”

Sam gritted his teeth and looked away, maybe a little worried about bringing it up. “Well! Uh... It would be re-downloading Freddy's old, basic programming back into the model. The issue with that would be obvious: two Freddies.”

“Samuel... you are a genius,” the redhead breathed, looking over the headset with wide-eyed fascination. If he could still control his old body and perform on stage that would be amazing.

His bright grin fell ever-so-slightly when Sam mentioned he was nowhere near done though. The man was right—it was a great concept, but they needed to have something Freddy-related working by Monday or there might be a riot from the patrons.

Helping Gregory steady his hard-working creator, Freddy listened to the alternative. There was a pause in which everyone looked at the ursine man, clearly expecting him to speak on the matter first. It would be his body double wandering around, after all.

“It... would be a strange circumstance, that is for certain,” Freddy said after a moment, his words slow as he processed his thoughts aloud. “But... our AI is made to learn and adapt to the world around us. Each day we are powered on, the more distinct our personalities become.” He gave the room a soft smile, pressing a hand lightly over his heart. “I think I can safely attest that due to my extraordinary experiences, I am nothing like the bear I was when first given life.”

Would it be bizarre to interact with what was essentially a past version of himself? Absolutely—but Freddy thought he could get over it. However, he wasn't the only one that would be weirded out by the situation. Sparing a glance down at Gregory, he asked: “Would you be alright with another Freddy wandering around, superstar? Our base temperaments are the same, though he may be rather, ah... stilted in the ways of dealing with people until he gets some practice in. It may be a bit jarring to interact with him.”

Gregory didn't really know if he could answer that. With everyone staring at him and waiting for an answer, he turned inwards to think. How would that make him feel? Two people who were essentially the same, only one doesn't know who he is at all. The other is the same guy, but also Gregory’s dad?

“Uhhh...” Gregory gave up a shrug. It would be cheesy for him to say it in front of everyone, but to him there would only ever be one real Freddy Fazbear. “Whatever you have to do, I guess! I’m cool with it.”

Foxy crossed his arms and shook his head. “No way! There can't be two Freddy's running about doling out orders!”

Besides, there’d be less opportunity to sneak around. Word has it that Fredbear used to be a real stickler for the rules.

Sam would give Foxy a playful role of his eyes. “Yeah, but then there's another bear for your pirate crew.”

Foxy considered this, scratching his chin in thought. “Aye, maybe then... Maybe...”

Freddy's lips had pursed at Foxy's mini-rant, somehow knowing the underlying meaning was that he wouldn't be able to cause as much trouble. It's not like Freddy wasn't any fun, though—he just wanted to make sure everyone was safe while doing so. It wasn't his fault Sam had given him the strictest child-safety protocols besides the Daycare attendant...

When Gregory and Foxy had given their agreement, Freddy looked back to Sam with a nod. “Then that seems to be the solution we must go with—for now, at least.”

They could always try the VR thing once it was up and running, although who knew how long that would take Sam to finish up once the Pizzaplex was actually open for business. Sparing a glance at his phone, Freddy's eyes widened at the time.

“If we do this, Sammy, when were you planning to port over my old programming?” the redhead asked. “If possible, I would like to be there to assist.”

And to assure everything is alright, he left unspoken. If there was going to be another Freddy walking around, the original wanted to make sure it was up to his standards.

“At the latest, noon on Monday. That's about as long as I can keep any kids from seeing you—er, him,” Sam replied, glad to see Freddy and Gregory were mostly unfazed by such a drastic change. He was also curious to see how the two bears would end up getting along. “From there, we can see what needs to be worked on; make sure that there's nothing screwy going on with his motor functions or programming.”

After all, it would be a real problem if even a smidgeon of William’s twisted soul was still hiding somewhere in a character profile... Sam and Gregory did a deep, comprehensive wide-scale purge of the Pizzaplex's entire data system, and while the chances of the old fuck hiding in there were very slim it didn't hurt to be careful.

“Hmm... alright,” Freddy mused, thinking of the timing of everything. “Perhaps we can port him over tomorrow night? That way you will not have to worry about such a big task during opening hours, even if the guest count is low. We may be able to get some of the other children to help test his interactions as well before letting him out on the floor come Monday morning!”

Some of the mild-tempered children, at least, like Evan and Hannah. Maybe Lizzie, if she begged to come along. Besides, Freddy would prefer he and Gregory have a little time to get used to his old-new counterpart before getting swept up in the hustle of entertaining kids and their demanding parents.

Seeing this place bustling again was what Sam wanted more than anything in the whole world. Foxy did in a way too, nervous the more that their afternoon shows went unpracticed for.

“The sooner he's awake the better,” the fox remarked, seeming just a little worried as he gently tussled the hair at the back of his head.

Without Freddy here all the time, the group barely wanted to get together and practice. While it was fun to slack off, playing video games and planning for parties, Foxy was aware that if they didn't run through the set list at least once before the real show they might eat it out there. Even if they were programmed to play perfectly, he’d yet to get a chance jamming with the band.

“You guys are gonna do great on your gig,” Gregory assured, reaching up to hold Foxy’s hand without a hint of the shyness he’d shown Monty and Bonnie.

“I sure hope you're right, bucko.” Foxy gave Gregory's hand a firm squeeze of appreciation, trying not to infect the others with his issues.

“Foxy—” Freddy began, one eyebrow quirked up to go along with the smile on his face. He'd had a similar thought to the pirate regarding the band's practice time, although he was a bit more confident they would do just fine. All the same, it certainly wouldn't hurt to have a test run. “—you do realize that I can still perform as I am now, right? It will not be quite the same as having my old body on stage with you, but my voice is still intact—and I guarantee I have not forgotten any of the dance moves.”

They still had some time tonight; maybe he could corral his bandmates and run through a song or two, for old times' sake. It would almost be like a send-off, in a way—not that Freddy couldn't ever perform with them again, but someday they'd be programmed with new routines that he wasn't privy to unless he specially requested Sam upload them into his android brain as well.

Yes... running around the stage with his old friends was just what Freddy needed to work off the lingering melancholy from earlier.

“FREDDY! That's why you're the leader—why didn't I think of just asking you?” Foxy laughed to himself, slapping a hand over his eye as the patch flipped up of its own accord. Holding his arm out for Freddy to latch onto, he offered to lead him to the others. It was about time they all hung out together without the kids around, anyway!

“Hey—I gotta go back to playing Manhunt anyway,” Gregory announced, knowing Freddy liked to be aware of where he went. Hopefully his dad would be cool with him dipping out for a few hours to finish the game he’d started with the ghosts. “See you guys back at the stage in the morning?”

“Of course, superstar,” Freddy replied, crouching down and pull his son into a hug. He let the embrace linger a bit longer than usual, silently reminding Gregory that he loved him unconditionally no matter what happened in their futures. When he pulled back it was with a wink and a grin. “Feel free to bring your friends by the stage tonight if you would like to watch part of the performance.”

With this out of the way, Freddy slipped his arm into Foxy's. “Alright, let us go round up the others. Goodness knows where they have all wandered off to... But first—” Before he started for the door, he was sure to grab onto Sammy's hand, sounding not unlike Mike when Sam refused to settle down despite how absolutely exhausted he was. “—we are taking a detour to the Daycare so you can get another rest in. And no, that is not a suggestion. Let us go.”

“Ooooh, you're in trouble, Sam!” Gregory teased, goading them on as they parted ways and Sam was forced to keep up with his creation’s pace.

“Yeah, yeah—have fun, Gregory!” Sam bid, waving a hand dismissively and ultimately deciding to listen to Freddy. He was certain that no one looking at him assumed he had his eyes open; they were squinted so bad behind his glasses that anyone would have reasonable suspicion to ask whether or not he was sleepwalking.

By the time they got the Daycare, poor Sam was practically being held up by Freddy, most of his weight slumped into the former bear's side. It seemed like all his exhaustion had hit him at once on the way over, and Freddy was happy he'd forced the CEO to take a break. After dropping him off with a quick check-in with Mari and Ennard—who were practicing “human conversation” over a plastic tea party, Freddy figured the best place to start looking for the rest of the crew would be Rockstar Row.

“So, Foxy—” Now that Gregory was no longer around, Freddy was free to ask: “—how is the party planning, by the way? I regret that I cannot take a more active role, but I need to be available in case Gregory needs me to keep up appearances.”

Foxy knocked a hand against his chest plate, watching it open and revealing the large cache of snacks and beverages he'd been smuggling throughout the Pizzaplex for Gregory's party.

“We've nearly got all the supplies ready! But no sweat, Fazbear—” Foxy replied, closing himself back up to clap his friend's shoulder in a supportive manner. “That's the reason why we're doing it! Bonnie said you, Mikey, and Charlie are all busy with everything, and we happen to have the time! We are professional party animals, remember?”

It only came natural to want to throw a huge shindig the moment that they heard a child's birthday was taking place, especially one so important. Foxy peeked inside Roxy’s room to see her doing nothing that he considered particularly important. Roxy was putting her hair into curlers for the night, carefully and strategically rolling the very last plastic tube into place before taking her silk cap and stretching it over her scalp (she didn't need to do any of this, of course, but it made her happy). Foxy looked bored just by watching it, so he quickly hoofed it over to her door and kicked it in, making the wolf jump and shout at the intrusion. Apparently this wasn't the first time Foxy had done this; Roxy even looked to be half expecting it.

“Foxy, get OUT OF MY ROOM!” she shouted, standing up and wholly embarrassed as they saw her nightly beauty routine.

“Band practice is in fifteen minutes!” Foxy shouted back, ignoring the wolf coming at him threateningly with a curling iron. Roxy gasped, yellow eyes flicking to Freddy and widening at his nod of confirmation.

“I'll be ready in ten!” she yelled, pointing the iron at Foxy's nonplussed head. “Now leave so I can get ready!” She may have sounded mad, but Roxy was fighting down the urge to smile very badly.

Having lived with the Glamrocks for his entire existence until a week ago Freddy had seen it all before, though some of their little quirks never failed to amuse him. While Roxy pointlessly curled her always-perfect hair, Monty was busy sitting on the couch in his room practicing his solos. This wasn’t necessary either, as he was literally programmed to play perfectly every time unless there was a major malfunction. Still, it made the gator feel better about usurping Bonnie as the bassist if he at least pretended to try and improve.

“Huh?” The sick guitar licks came to a sudden halt at the knock on the gator’s door. “Door’s open—come on in! Fredbear!” After placing the bass reverently in its stand, Monty stomped forward to give the ursine man a big hug.

“Hi, Monty!” Freddy laughed, doing his best to pat the gator’s arms until he was released. “We are getting the band together in fifteen minutes for a practice session at the main stage.”

“Oh! Well I shouldn’t’ve put my bass down then,” Monty remarked with a raucous chuckle. He snatched up the instrument and hooked it over his shoulder before following Freddy into the hallway.

Catching sight of Chica through her half-open window, Monty knocked a claw against the glass to get her attention. When she turned to him with a curious squawk, he pointed to his guitar and mimed playing it, then jerked a thumb over his shoulder in the vague direction of the stage. Freddy watched the pantomiming with amusement, wondering if Chica would have any idea what Monty was trying to tell her.

Chica herself had been doing jumping jacks. Exercising was… pointless. At least to her it was. No matter how much Chica ate, or how inactive she was, she would stay the same unless she was majorly junked up by some bad pizza. Still, Chica had to set a good example. Former versions of herself framed childhood binge eating as something to aspire to—and in turn, Glamrock Chica was given an interest in healthy habits despite her continued love for pizza.

Pulled away from her cardio, her eyes widened at what she was pretty sure Monty was asking of her. Ceasing her activities, she ran to grab her guitar. She’s been itching to jam with the band for a hot second. She held up her axe to make sure that was what Monty was actually asking for. Upon receiving an enthusiastic thumbs up, Chica’s smile brightened. With her guitar strap securely around her shoulders, she was the first to bolt out of the hallway, heading off to go tell Bonnie that they were putting on a show.

“Alright everyone!” Freddy said once they'd all gathered together, projecting his voice to be heard in the echoing atrium as he hopped on stage. The rest of the band lulled around in front where the crowd would stand, tuning instruments and chatting until Freddy made his appearance. Naturally, all eyes turned towards their stalwart leader.

“First, before we get to practicing I have an announcement to make,” Freddy said, grasping the wireless mic at the front of the stage and unhooking it from its stand. It felt both familiar and foreign in his hands—he’d been using a variation of this same mic forever, but it’d always been held in paws. Without a dragging cord, Freddy was able to pace the stage freely as he spoke.

“I am sure you all are wondering about the elephant in the room—or should I say bear.” There was a collective groan at the lame dad joke, though Freddy thought he heard a distinctive snicker from Bonnie and Foxy’s direction. “I spoke with Sammy about what we are going to do now that I am in this body. Unfortunately I cannot switch back and forth at will, so my old form will need something to keep it running to entertain the guests and put on shows with you all.

“We toyed with a potential idea where I would still be in control behind the scenes, but it is not quite ready yet. So… We have decided to upload the base coding of my original personality into the animatronic instead.” He paused a moment to let this sink in, awaiting the inevitable flood of questions.

Bonnie was the first one to respond. Perched atop a backless stool that he nearly fell off of with the news, the wide-eyed rabbit gasped at the idea of there being two of his best friends walking around.

“Wowee, Fredbear,” Bonnie exclaimed, all bushy-tailed and chipper. “That'll be neat!”

“I don't know, Bon-Bon,” Chica remarked, idly thumming the frets of her electric guitar. “It's sounds kinda confusing to me. Like… Two? How are we going to know which one's which?”

Roxy gave her friend an incredulous glance, holding in a laugh. “…Are you kidding me? One's going to look like a bear, and the other one is a human man, Chica!”

Freddy gave the group an easy smile, but when he opened his mouth to speak Monty chimed in.

“So... does that mean you're gonna be hangin' with us, or... not you?” The gator scratched his head, clearly in a similar boat to Chica.

“We will both be around,” Freddy tried to explain. “But as Roxy said, I—the Freddy you are familiar with—will retain this body, while the new one uses my old animatronic.”

“Huh...” Monty looked contemplative for a moment, the tip of his tail flicking ever so slightly from side to side. Then he shrugged, tapping an idle claw on the bass around his shoulders. “Alrighty then—as long as y'all don't team up to get on our cases, we'll be good!”

“If you do not cause trouble, we will not have to,” Freddy pointed out with a stern eyebrow raise.

Monty just huffed and looked away with a grumble to the effects of, “...still annoyin' as heck, that's for sure...”

“Aw heck, Montgomery.” Bonnie bumped the big gator's arm with his own, feeling that Freddy's tendencies to overthink and care about the wellbeing of his friends were a blessing in disguise. “Freddy's just a good pal! Making sure none of us get in trouble with the Boss, always keepin' us safe and up to code... In fact, where would we be if not for Freddy and the kids today?”

“Yeah!” Chica agreed, cocking her head to the side as she remembered the times Freddy had personally helped her out. Too many pizzas and the cheese could easily gunk up a girl’s voice box controls... “Like what Gregory says: he's got total 'Dad Energy!’”

Roxy and Foxy were a little smarter than to put in their two cents. Yes, they loved Freddy dearly, but those two always thought they could handle themselves regardless of whether or not Freddy was present. Still, it was obvious to everyone how much they always wanted Fredbear around!

“Alright, alright!” Monty held up his claws with a laugh. “I'm not sayin' it's a bad thing to have two Fredbears—'course I love him just as much as y'all, even if they're both lecturin' me in stereo!”

“Thank you, everyone,” Freddy chuckled once the commotion had died down. He had one hand pressed over his heart and a big smile on his face. He knew they all cared for him, but it was still nice to hear aloud. “I just wanted to let you know what would be happening so you are not confused when the bear starts wandering around and I am not in it.”

A tiny crease formed in his brow. “We will need to upload a base personality that had not been exposed to guests so it may take a bit of adjustment, which I am hoping Gregory can help with—and you all, of course. I am trusting you to show new Freddy the ropes!”

“Oooh man! Freddy's not going to know what's even going on! It'll be like when we first got activated...” Roxy reminisced, back when things were just a little more simple: few stores and places to eat, with one big stage to perform on. Now things were so hectic. They were local celebrities with a legion of fans now dedicated to them. “Hope we don't overwhelm the guy.”

Foxy gave an exaggerated shrug. “Doubt it; Freddy will know exactly what to do! It'll just take a second for him to get to know you all again. Just like me, remember?”

Only a few days ago did Foxy really “wake up,” yet he felt like he'd been here for a long time already. Accepted so instantaneously by his peers, Foxy was sure that new Freddy would fit in just fine.

Bonnie leaned back, paws behind his head as he thought aloud to himself. “I hope he likes bowlin'...”

“I am sure he will, Bon,” Freddy said with a bright smile. He clapped his hands together, wary of the mic still in his grip that he now spoke into. “Now, onto the real reason I gathered you here—just because my old model is currently deactivated does not mean I cannot practice with you!”

“Aw, heck yeah!” Monty exclaimed, pumping a fist in the air. “I've been itchin' to perform again!” He jumped to his feet, grabbing the closest robot and tugging them forward—which in this case happened to be Roxy. “No time to waste—let's goooo!”

“Bonnie, would you mind activating the sound booth?” Freddy asked as everyone took their places. While the rabbit might not be back in the lineup yet, he could still help them out in so many ways. Freddy looked down at his old friend with a preemptively thankful grin. “Pick whatever showtime set catches your fancy, and we will work from that lineup!”

“It'd be my honor!” Bonnie hopped up quickly from his seat, doing a little half jog to make his way off the stage—but not before smacking Foxy's good arm as he passed. “Break a leg out there, Foxy!”

“Too late, bunny-boy,” Foxy pointed out, sticking out his peg leg as he began to unscrew the hook attachment on his arm. He was quick to replace it with another tool: an attachable drum stick that made it a little bit handier as a drummer. That way he didn't have to sacrifice skill for speed while keeping the beat.

Bonnie threw back his head in laughter as he climbed towards the top of the sound stage, readying the lights and the fog machine to give it the appearance of a real show. Speaking into the microphone, he directed his friends. “Alright y'all—everyone's instruments tuned?”

Chica gave her guitar a quick strum before finding the right power chord for her amp, then sent Bonnie a thumbs up to the sound booth above. There was a test of the mic, and Foxy experimentally smacking the electric drums at the very back of the stage while Roxy warmed up her finger joints over the keys of her synth. Then, the sound of live music finally filled the long empty halls of the Pizzaplex...

It was a wonderful feeling to sing on stage again. Wonderful... and bittersweet. Freddy knew he could always have late-night performances like this with his friends, but it'd never be the same as before.

He wasn't the same as before. And while he'd certainly improved for the better, this truly felt like the final step in accepting that his life as Freddy Fazbear, official mascot of the Mega Pizzaplex, had come to a close.

But hey—he'd gained a family out of this whole adventure. And really, that's all he'd ever wanted.

***

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the-metal-reaper · 5 years

Text

An Eye for an Eye - Chapter 4

What’s up bitches, I’m back. And I WILL have a consistent posting schedule now, I promise. Chapter 5 of this beauty will be up Friday the 4th, and for the next couple of weeks there will be actual art!! (Look forward to October, folks, big things are happening).

Anyway, here’s An Eye for an Eye: Chapter 4!

---

The warm glow of the streetlight illuminates Michael, casting dark shadows that make him look even less human. If there was anyone else out this late at night, he would surely give them nightmares. Michael’s footsteps echo through the empty streets. He stops in front of Fazbears and fumbles around in his pocket for the key. The metal ring is cold in his grip.

Michael says, “Are you ready?” as he pulls open the door to face the four tall animatronics staring down at him. Their eyes are dim, flickering candles checking again and again to make sure that Michael is really there, that he’s really going to give them what they want.

“Yes,” Freddy steps aside and ushers Michael into the dining area, where a toolbox is waiting for him. “Will it hurt?”

“Not at all.” Michael lies. He has no clue how closely connected the children’s souls and their respective robots are, and can only hope that his lie isn’t exposed the moment he puts a wrench to one of the animatronics. Sitting in the booth seat closest to the door, Michael opens the rusty toolbox and takes a wrench out from the bottom drawer.

Foxy sits down next to him and glances at the clock on the wall. “Where’s the night guard? It’s after midnight.”

Removing Foxy’s arm from the rest of the animatronic, Michael chuckles, “Right here. Fritz Smith, at your service.” He winks, much to the amusement of everyone in the room.

“You used my name!” Foxy’s smile widens, reminiscent of the gap-toothed smile that Fritz always wore.

The beginnings of a grin bud on Michael’s face. “It is quite a good name.” Michael detaches Foxy’s head, and Fritz, pale skin radiating light, floats out.

“Look at me! Look! I’m—” Fritz cuts himself off when Michael places a finger of warning over his lips, and mouths, he’ll hear you. To vent his excitement, Fritz instead bounces around the room.

Michael quickly removes Chica and Bonnie’s heads, releasing Suzy and Jeremy from their robotic caskets. Gleefully, they spin in circles and figure-eights above the table. Freddy sits down in front of him, and Michael tries to remove his head, but one of the bolts in his neck is jammed. Michael twists the bolt with all of his strength, nearly snapping the wrench, but still no dice.

The double doors of the Fazbear restaurant fly open, smacking the walls inside with a metallic clang. “Michael? What are you doing?” Charlie whispers, eyes wide with fear and horror that Michael cannot place.

“I’m—” Before Michael can finish, Fritz squeals.

“Charlie, look!” Fritz floats over behind Charlie, gesturing at himself wildly. “I look like me!”

Her gaze brightens considerably. “You look amazing, Fritz.” Then, Charlie turns to Michael, her usual cheerful smile back on her face, and whispers, “You’re… helping them?”

“We’re helping him. We’re going to give William what he deserves.” Freddy corrects.

Charlie swallows, hard, and her blood runs cold again. “Gabriel, can you— can you go wait with the others for a minute?”

“Michael has to remove my head first.”

With quick, jerky movements, Charlie snatches the wrench from Michael’s hands, detaches a hinge from the other side of Freddy’s neck, and yanks out the jammed bolt. Gabriel, finally free, joins his fellow spirits in the opposite corner, where they chatter quietly.

“What are you doing?” Charlie hisses, grabbing Michael by the wrist.

“I need your help, Lee.”

Her voice hardens. “Answer the question.”

“They’re going to help me take care of William.”

“Mike, you can’t do this. Especially not with the kids.”

“Why not? He more than deserves it.”

“They’re children. You can’t make them kill someone.”

“He won’t die.”

Charlie falls silent.

“And I mean, look at what he did to your dad. Henry just wanted to help him. Imagine what he’ll do to us.”

After stuttering a few words, Charlie turns away from Michael, turning this plan over and over in her head.

“Besides,” Taking slight advantage of his friend’s turmoil, Michael puts an arm around Charlie and continues, “I’ll be right in the doorway of the storage room the entire time. Nothing will happen to you or the children.”

Ignoring the increasingly insistent voice in her head telling her that no, this was an awful idea, Charlie murmurs, “I’ll do it.”

“Thank you, Lee. I promise that you won’t regret this.” Michael pulls her to her feet and leads Charlie down the hallway, where her fellow phantoms are lurking. “Now, everyone, you’re not aiming to kill him. Just terrify him as much as you can.” His voice falls to a whisper, and Michael looks increasingly uncomfortable the closer he gets to the door.

“You guys don’t need to worry. I’ll do the talking.” Charlie naturally takes the lead role and helps to lower the nervous energy crowding the hallway. A litany of skittish thoughts too fast to decipher run through her head, and she glances back at Michael, but his stony face does little to calm her nerves.

Charlie opens the door slowly, but still fast enough that it creaks. From inside the storage room, William jumps at the noise, wide eyes darting around the room, trying to locate the source of sound in an otherwise silent room. He moves quickly to shut the door, revealing the yellow springlock suit that he has been tinkering with. Charlie’s voice catches in her throat as she stares down her killer for the first time in fifteen years. She can tell that the rest of the spirits share in her terror. Even Michael, lingering at the end of the hallway in case William decides to bolt, feels a slight twinge of nerves as his only remaining friends disappear from sight.

With shaking hands placed carefully behind her back as to not reveal her fear, Charlie approaches William from behind. “Afton,” she says, voice strengthened with resolve.

William practically leaps out of his skin. He turns on his heel to stare down at his victims, and Charlie sees the war between terror and anger playing out in his eyes. “You—how are you here?”

“You need to atone for your crimes.” Desperately grasping at straws, Charlie tries to think of what Michael would say to him. “Pay for all of the horrible misdeeds you’ve done.”

William takes a few steps back. “No! Not yet! I’m so close! I just need more—”

“You’re out of time.”

“You don’t understand!” His voice rises to a feverish pitch. “I’m going to be with her! I have to be with her!”

Charlie swallows hard. She’s becoming wrapped up in the act. “No. You’re going to stay here, alone and outnumbered. Just like you deserve. Just like you left us.” With a final step, the spirits have him pinned against the wall. William turns and bolts across the room. Not towards the door, like Charlie was expecting, but towards a yellow springlock suit laying limply in the corner. He has it on in less than a minute.

The children take a few stumbling steps back. That was no longer just a monstrous man standing in front of them, it was the monster that had taken their lives, that had haunted every corner of the waking nightmare they had lived in for the past ten years. Sensing the sheer terror radiating from his best friend, Michael plants himself in the doorway. He doesn’t doubt that Charlie has everything under control, but he doesn’t trust William to not do something completely insane.

Now in his armor, William’s mask of fear turns to a hideous snarl. His gaze turns to Michael, and his snarl deepens. “I won’t be the one dying here tonight.”

Charlie begins to growl, “Stay away from—”

A loud snap, followed by a gurgling, guttural scream cuts her off. In front of her, William crumples like a rag doll, his wretched screams slightly muffled by the mask of the suit.

Still in the doorway, Michael stands silently, his stony expression twisting into a grin. Not a genuine smile (a rare yet comforting sight from him), but something more sinister. Something that made a piece of himself buried under miles and miles of scar tissue twinge with regret. Like father, like son. The monstrous smile shatters as soon as the thought crosses his mind, and Michael snaps back to reality. He blinks a few times, and the idea sinks back down out of sight once again.

William is kneeling in a pool of his own blood, his agony-filled screams echoing through the room. Charlie careens away from him in horror, accidentally hitting into Michael as she falls. He catches Charlie right as her hair brushes the floor, and realizes that she’s quivering from head to toe.

“They’re gone… I don’t know where they went.” Following her gaze to the empty space where Gabriel, Jeremy, Suzy, and Fritz used to occupy, Michael realizes what Charlie’s murmuring about.

Michael sighs, “They must’ve moved on.” They both stare at the floor for a minute, worry clouding their minds, but ragged breathing from the corner of the room helps Michael pull himself together. “Just go wait outside, Lee, alright? I’ll be out in a minute.”

“No!” Charlie nearly screams, “I can’t leave you alone with…”

A menacing chuckle rings out from the corner of the room. Michael pulls Charlie behind him, even though William doesn’t move from his crumpled position. “I’m trapped in my own skin, slowly dying. Sound familiar, Michael?” His voice is grating and strained.

“Why did you cause all this? All this pain and suffering; what’s the point?” Charlie whispers, eyes still bloodshot with old tears.

William cocks his head to the right. “I didn’t cause this mess. That was all your friend over there.”

“You’re insane.” Taking a step forward, Michael spits, “You can’t possibly think all this is my fault. Elizabeth, Mother, Charlie, Gabriel, Jeremy, Suzy, Fritz, even Henry and I, to some degree, our lives were decimated because of you.”

“You know what they say: like father, like son.” William’s grin is menacing now, with no trace of his usual hysteria.

“I’m nothing like you. You’re a delusional monster who kills for fun.” Michael stares a hole through William, blocking out the nagging knowledge that William was correct, and it was only a matter of time before Charlie realized that too.

“Well, the heroic justice-seeking vigilantes don’t usually send their moral compasses to murder the big bad in cold blood, do they?”

“You son of a—”

Suddenly, Michael feels a hand grab the back of his coat and drag him out of the room. Michael turns, ready to face down any ally that William may have brought with him, but instead, he finds Henry staring up at him.

Henry’s voice is quiet and cold. “What are you doing? Why did I hear—” When Henry’s eyes settle on the bloody, mangled mess he once called his friend, he freezes. “Oh—oh my lord.”

“Henry…” William whispers weakly.

Henry doesn’t respond.

“Please, help me.”

As he embraces a sobbing Charlie, Michael shoots Henry a look of warning.

“You know Michael can’t be trusted. Look at what he did to me, and I’m his father.”

Michael desperately wants to snap at William, to hit him, to do something, but doing anything rash would prove William’s point.

“He doesn’t have a soul, Henry. He doesn’t actually care about you or Charlotte. You have to stop him now, before he hurts her.”

That’s it. Michael moves forward to stop William’s lies, but feeling the rise and fall of Charlie’s chest on his hip sharpens Michael’s thoughts. He needs to be smart about this.

As Michael takes a deep breath, a spiteful smile settles on his face. “The fault, dear Brutus, is not in the stars, but in ourselves.”

Henry turns back to Michael, smiling gratefully at him. He moves to close the door to the storage room, locking William inside.

“Henry, wait, please...” William’s shaking hand stretched towards the door suddenly goes limp, and his head droops. Shakily, Henry closes the door with a resounding bang and clicks the lock shut.

Henry turns to Michael and Charlie. “What happened to everyone else?”

“They…” Charlie says quickly, avoiding eye contact with both Michael and Henry, “They moved on, to the afterlife.”

“I’m sorry.”

Charlie nods politely, a false smile plastered on her face. She pulls closer to Michael’s elbow, which she had snaked her arms around after Henry had shut the door.

“I think we’re going to go home,” Michael says, eyes on Charlie. “get some rest.”

“I’m going to call Fazbear Headquarters and report a springlock failure. They deal with those all the time.” Sighing, Henry toys with his new prosthetic hand. It’s not yet finished; the fingers twitched without intent, and the cold steel was exposed for all the world to see.

“Goodnight, Henry. Will we be seeing you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. I’ll see you.” Henry’s tone had a note of melancholy as he looks one last time at his daughter before turning and walking away toward the office.

Michael leads Charlie towards the door. “Are you alright?”

“I killed him, Mike.” Tears begin to drip down her face again. “I’m a murderer.”

“Hey.”

The edge in Michael’s voice makes Charlie look up.

“Do you remember what happened to Luke?” Michael says.

Luke. Michael’s little brother had been a quiet kid, and always looked up to Charlie as the big sister he never had. Charlie had died before Luke’s passing, so she didn’t know the details, but she knew that Michael blamed himself for it. That he played a large part in Luke’s death. “I remember.”

“Does his death make me a killer?”

“Of—of course not!”

“Then that means that you aren’t a killer either.”

“I… guess.” Charlie leans her head on Michael’s shoulder and smiles up at him. The smile is almost genuine. “Thanks, Mike.”

---

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angelofrainfrogs · 8 months

Text

Going Back: Ch. 11

~Coauthored by @zeitghest~

Fandom(s): Five Nights At Freddy’s: Security Breach

All in all, life is finally starting to go right for once.

Rating: T

Read on Ao3

The old nursery rhyme, Grandfather’s Clock... It persisted and slowly grew louder and louder.

The vent behind Michael’s head echoed with the harsh memory-inducing sound. Not five seconds after it stopped completely, who else should fall into Michael's lap but Mari? The Puppet seemed just as alarmed as the guard was judging by her aggressive wiggling and thrashing.

Michael was embarrassed to admit that even after all they’d been through, his immediate instinct was to throw the Puppet off and try to kick her out the door, earning himself a few more seconds of perilous freedom from the vengeful bot and soul inside. However, this passing thought only lasted a millisecond—too fleeting for him to even consider acting on it. Instead of punting Mari like a ragdoll, Michael held her close in an attempt to calm her down.

“Whoa, whoa, relax!” he exclaimed, doing his best to pat her on the back. “Why are you so freaked out?! I can’t understand if you don’t chill!”

As the Puppet started to slow her wild movements, Michael gently held her by the shoulders at arm’s length as he tilted his head with a pinched expression of worry. “What’s wrong, Mari?”

Being addressed by her new name seemed to ground her enough. Puppet furiously tapped Michael's arms, then pointed to the security cameras with a thin finger. There was a threat inside the building—explaining how she knew would be impossible and time-consuming, so she sought to gently break free from one of Michael’s hands and finagle the controls for the monitors, head swiveling until she found the East Arcade’s security feeds.

Just in time, as they crossed over a camera where the shadow of a man snuck into a nearby bathroom, its door still shaking from the force he seemed to push it with. Repeatedly, Mari pointed to the screen, tapping it furiously until Michael got the message that she needed his help.

Michael’s mild concern instantly narrowed into sharp-focused fury. “Who the fuck is that?”

Someone was in the Pizzaplex after hours, and that meant that someone was near his family. Someone was a potential threat to everyone he cared about, who all happened to be in the building this very second. Even if it weren’t for Mari’s reaction, Michael could tell this stranger wasn’t welcome; no one would be sneaking around like that if they had good intentions.

With a cold jolt of fear, Mike also realized this uninvited guest was way too close to where Gregory and the kids were for comfort. Though he trusted Bonnie to look after them, there was only so much one robot could do when trying to keep so many kids safe from a currently unknown threat…

As if Michael had been in this scenario many times before, in one smooth movement he slung the Puppet around his shoulders and stood, patting his work belt down to assure he had his guard supplies. Upon exiting the office, he unclipped his walkie and tuned it into Sam’s. “Hey, Sam? Don’t freak out, but I think there’s someone in the Pizzaplex near the East Arcade. I’m going to check it out right now; I’ll keep you posted.”

The Puppet was quick to grasp on to Michael. If not only seeing a security guard was enough to scare whoever this was, the animatronic with the dead-eyed stare clinging to Mike's shoulder could help put some fear into the intruder’s heart. There were still children to protect, whether they were alive or not.

“Let me know if you need back up, Mike,” Sam answered after a beat, tone sounding worried as he’d just sent Freddy off with Gregory's tablet. He had a feeling that Freddy may react proactively should he see someone sneaking around the Pizzaplex.

Sam made sure to lock his office again, checking the hall corners as he jogged towards the security office. He could still do something—in place of Mike, he could check out the camera's feed and give him help where he needed it.

***

This wasn't happening the way Terry intended.

The sounds of kids playing had led the man with a sloshing beer gut towards the East Arcade. As soon as he caught sight of that mechanical rabbit he recognized as a character from many people in Hurricane's shared childhood, he dashed. Terry was smart enough to know those things had security features since the 90's; there was no way he could get close to his son with that thing around.

So now here he was, trying to call his wife for the tenth time in hopes of simply bailing on the plan to find Gregory. Who needed that little shit's government checks anyway? They already reported him missing, so the blame was hardly on them.

It was his fault for running off in the first place...

***

Michael was rushing towards the restroom he’d seen the man sneak into, face a mask of steely determination. On the way he ran into Freddy, who was expectedly concerned at the situation when Mike filled him in. Freddy wanted to help, but the guard said his assistance would be best utilized in the arcade with Bonnie and the kids.

With Gregory’s tablet clutched tightly in his hand, Freddy made a beeline for the game room. The kids were scattered throughout the arcade when Freddy arrived, but he didn’t want to call more attention to them by yelling out. Instead he rushed to Bonnie’s side, managing to snag a wandering Evan along the way and tuck the little ghost under his arm.

“Bonnie, help me gather the children and take them to the security office behind the prize counter,” Freddy instructed, still remembering the safe rooms. Even if he wasn’t connected to the Pizzaplex network anymore, his mental map of the building was still intact.

“Freddy? What’s happening?” Evan asked, instantly growing worried, though he allowed the fatherly figure to carry him around for now. With a hitch in his breath, he asked: “Did… did Puppet see something? Is she okay?!”

“She is with Michael; she is fine,” Freddy replied, not fully answering the boy’s question. To Bonnie, he urged: “Let us not waste time.”

Bonnie, who was the king of being nonchalant, came besides Hannah and scooped her up playfully into his arms at Freddy's request. Sure, he pulled her away from her game, but he distracted her by tossing her gently upwards in the air.

“Hoo boy! We gotta mosey for now. But we'll be back later!” the bunny loosely promised, glancing around as he began his search for Elizabeth and Gregory and gently bouncing Hannah in his arms; despite her ability to float or become incorporeal, he felt like it was important. Little things like that helped a kid like her feel normal, he assumed.

Gregory was spotted with Lizzie—the rabbit caught them in the act of trying to jump the prize counter in hopes of substituting their meager amount of tickets for a better prize.

“Hey, kids! We gotta go to the security room and get ourselves some snacks now!” he said, keeping his worry locked behind a mask, finding himself almost too good at pretending to be fine in the moment. He'd wave his free arm at the kids to make them follow him. “Quit all your cheatin' and come on! Freddy's waiting for us.”

Despite the annoyance of being pulled away from their games, it seemed the kids knew when it was time to go. Freddy’s concerned expression—not nearly as hidden on his human face—was the final prompting they needed to head to the security office without a fuss.

As they walked, Freddy allowed Evan to float alongside so he could slip his hand into Gregory’s, silently reassuring his son that everything would be alright. They didn’t know if this intruder had anything to do with his foster parents, but a twist deep in Freddy gut told him the timing was certainly a strange coincidence.

***

Along the way, Michael encountered another unexpected companion: Monty, emerging from Gator Golf just as the guard rushed past. He’d snagged the large robot and urged him to follow, feeling more confident with a bodyguard at his shoulder. Though Monty’s programming should be docile now, he was still an intimidating figure.

“Wait here, big guy,” Michael instructed in a whisper as they approached the bathroom. After being assured by Sam that the worst the animatronics would do was capture the threat and bring them to security—which, in this case, was standing right there—Michael opted to let Monty tag along as backup. The android was confident in his abilities to defend himself in a physical fight, but who knew if this psycho had any weapons on him? They couldn’t risk the kids being put in more danger.

“You got it, Mike,” Monty replied, flashing a sharp-toothed grin and punching a fist into his palm. “Lemme know if you need me to go after ‘em.”

Michael patted the gator’s arm and then turned to the bathroom, opening the door with a harsh kick of his heel. He stepped inside, calling out in a slow, deep voice tinged with barely-concealed annoyance: “Hello? Security! Look, I know you’re in here—we can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

The jig was up—whoever was working here at night already saw him. So, hanging up the dozenth call he made to Rita, Terry sighed. What were his options? Security might let him go with a warning if he told the guy he was only looking for his son.

Looking through the cracks in the colorful plastic stalls, Terry gulped. There was a short pause before he surrendered, figuring that if he made himself compliant now, there might be time to slip away later. Terry didn't see this as an encounter that would hinder him; he always found himself worming his way out of messes and responsibility.

Slowly, he opened the stall door and put his hands up. Terry Smith had a seemingly permeant crease in his brows, glaring up to the perceivably younger man for having caught him.

“Alright—just be cool...,” Terry said, his voice like bike tires on gravel. Low and rough like you'd expect from the voice of a two pack a day smoker. For now, he'd bide his time. It wasn't like this guy was a real cop.

Good news: the man looked like a normal human, albeit a pissed off one. Still, Michael wasn’t going to take any chances. He was cinch his hands behind his back, holding his wrists together as best he could with one hand while reaching for his walkie with the other.

“I got him,” Michael said into the device, informing his boss of his success. “Let me know where I should meet you.”

As he waited for Sam to respond, Michael locked gazes with the man in the mirror. Clamping his wrists tighter, he narrowed his eyes. “Who are you? Why are you here after hours?”

Regardless of the fact he’d broken in, something about this guy just gave Michael a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Oh, come on! Really? I'm an old man, kid. I'm not going to do anything,” Terry fibbed, rolling his eyes with an annoyed glared pointed at Michael over his shoulder. He spoke down to the guard to cover up the fact that he was clearly up to something. He even tested Michael's strength, finding him much stronger than he looked. “My name's Terry—and I know I'm trespassing, but I have a very good reason for it.”

His explanation was cut short as a voice chimed in over the walkie.

“I'll come to you you—” Sam told Michael, noting everyone present and accounted for inside the nearby security office. “—you're in the East Arcade bathroom?”

“You can't detain me like this. You're not even a cop...” Terry rolled his eyes with a heavy loll in his neck. The more this man spoke, the more he couldn't hide his self-entitled personality.

“I can do whatever the hell I want to do,” Michael snapped back, grip tightening to border on painful. With his name revealed, it was abundantly clear who this man was: Terry Smith, Gregory’s foster father come to take his son back. Apparently, he decided to try a less savory route of doing so since his wife’s attempt failed.

“Don’t bother thinking you can slip out,” Michael remarked when he felt Terry start to squirm. Good—the bastard deserved to suffer as much discomfort as possible for the trauma he put Gregory through. The night guard wore a grin, though it didn’t meet his cold eyes. “I’ve got a biiig friend waiting just outside, and I guarantee he won’t be nearly as nice as I am if he gets his hands on you.”

Monty might be overtly docile now, but Michael knew how scary it could be to see a gigantic gator running at you. Hopefully that’d be enough to quell Terry’s thoughts of escape, since it was making Michael’s skin crawl the longer they touched.

“You’re lucky, though—you get to meet the CEO!” Mike spoke in an exaggeratedly excited tone. “Once he gets here, you can explain to both of us why you’re sneaking around the Pizzaplex.”

Terry's eyes had gone wider. There wasn't any way he could worm out of this right now, so he'd try getting sympathy from this aggressive night guard before the CEO dared show his face.

“Please—Sir, I'm looking for my lost son. He loves this place. I-I just want to get him home safe and sound.” He squirmed uncomfortably. This security guard’s hands were like a vice grip, tightening the more he threatened to wiggle loose. “Look... Understand it from my perspective. You've got a family right? Wife or... Or kids or something? I just want my son back...”

He attempted to illicit an empathetic response from the guy, but he wasn't entirely sure that he was dealing with the most empathetic person around. But Terry was a parasite at heart; feeding off of other's kindness was the only way he knew how to get by.

“Yes, I have a family,” Michael responded through clenched teeth.

Along with some good friends he had three younger siblings, two of which had been around since the 80s and one he’d acquired recently. Gregory was his brother, and Freddy was certainly a better father figure to all of them than William ever had been. The former co-founder of Fazbear entertainment had neglected his children due to his madness, which was certainly no excuse for his behavior… But Gregory’s neglect had been intentional, and that made Michael want to punch out the man he was holding.

“If you’re looking for your son, might I ask why you’re sneaking in at night to do so?” Michael asked. He could take an educated guess, but he was really stalling for time until Sammy arrived to give further direction. Although, if the CEO didn’t show up soon Michael was growing increasingly tempted to throw Terry out to deal with the likes of Monty and anyone else roaming around in wait for him to pass by.

The tense statement Michael made sounded so definitive that Terry clamped his mouth shut, more worried now that the security guard had found a hole in his plan. Though, to Terry, it sounded better than the situation looked at first glance. He swallowed, mouth becoming nervously dry as he went to explain.

“My wife—she came here a few days ago. W-We hadn’t heard anything from the CEO about our son. Rita, she uh—s-she has it in her head that our son’s somewhere in here,” the man explained, having to swallow again to lubricate his crackling voice. “I came here to put both our minds at ease and—HEY! You're hurting me, bud!”

Terry yelped dramatically, trying to wiggle loose just in time for a very tense looking Samuel to walk through the doors. Scowling, Sam crossed his arms and leered down at the intruder.

“Okay—what the hell is happening here?” he inquired. Where Terry went to explain, he was immediately silenced by the CEO, who held a dismissive hand to his face. “I'm talking to my guard, not you.”

“Says his name is Terry, and he’s looking for his son,” Michael informed, careful to leave out extraneous details. To Terry, they needed to make it seem like they only knew what he told them—they couldn’t let on that Gregory was a part of their wild, adoptive family. Mike raised a skeptical eyebrow at Sam as he continued. “He told me his wife—Rita, I think?—stopped by the other day and met with you, but you weren’t able to tell her anything.”

With a final warning squeeze, he slowly released Terry’s wrists, smirking with satisfaction as the man rubbed the now-tender skin. Michael’s violent temper had quelled with time, but seeing the man in clear discomfort gave him a sick little sense of satisfaction. Looking to Sam, the guard asked, only half-joking: “So, what do you think? Should we sic Monty on him for trespassing?”

“Rita...” Samuel blinked, fixing the round frames on his nose. If she had proof that Gregory was in hiding at the Pizzaplex, Samuel had a feeling at this point Rita might be desperate enough to call the authorities. However, without solid evidence they couldn't conduct a search without probable cause if Sammy pushed back hard enough. So, she must've sent the idiot she married to come and look for traces of Gregory himself.

“Yes, Rita Smith; I remember now.” Samuel's voice was calm, but the man wore his emotions on his sleeve just like his twin. With his nails digging into his jacket and a contemptuous gaze, he was much less friendly with the Smiths this time around. “Sir, I'm positive I already told your wife there’s no evidence of your missing son being in the building. The head of security and I were looking over the tapes day and night and found no trace of Gregory Smith.”

Well... More like doctoring the footage ahead of time. It was another white lie, and Sam felt his line of sight dither from Terry's. As a con man himself, Terry raised his hand and pointed a stubby index finger at the CEO.

“Bullshit, you must’ve seen him! This is the only place he could’ve gone! There has to be outside footage somewhere—” Terry shouted, argumentative and rude. “You can trick all the new fuckin' rubes in this town, but people like us remember what happened forty years ago! Weird shit happens here; kids go missing…”

“You shut the fuck up!” Michael hissed, overcome with a dark flash of anger that made him grab Terry by the front of his shirt. He lifted the man up on tip-toe as he sneered down into his face, much less obvious at lying than Sam. “You have no clue what you’re talking about. We haven’t seen your kid—if we did, we’d tell someone. Do you really think we’d still be in business if shit like that was still going down? And—”

“Hey, y’all good in there?” Monty’s voice cut through Michael’s rant, the gator’s protocol for protecting staff amping up along with the raised voices.

And not a moment too soon—the last thing Mike wanted was for his emotions to overwhelm him and let slip something that would prove they knew more than they were letting on. He took a deep breath, setting Terry back on solid ground as he let out the air in his artificial lungs.

“We’re fine, Monty; just stay put,” the guard called through the closed door. His eyes shifted to Terry, now even colder than before. “I suggest you get the hell out of our Pizzaplex before you really piss us off, got it? If we find any information on your son, you and your wife will be the first to know.”

Samuel looked rattled. The rant Michael was about to go on could’ve jeopardized everything. Thankfully, with Monty’s interruption Sam pulled himself from the shaken daze of Terry having touched a nerve and could now intervene. Standing at Mike’s side, he decided to play good cop.

“We'll gladly escort you instead of calling the police. I understand why you did what you did.” Samuel tried to sound understanding, taking Terry by the shoulder as he spoke. He began guiding them through the bathroom door to kick him out at the entrance, a slick smile pulling at his lips. “Do it again and I’ll be contacting the authorities to hit your ass with a civil suit.”

Michael had successfully intimidated Terry into a more passive behavior. It turned passive-aggressive when Sam mentioned suing him, but Terry lacked the resistance to fight either of them right then and there.

Especially when he saw just how big Montgomery Gator was up close.

“Monty, buddy!” Michael greeted the animatronic warmly. “Mind tagging along while we show Terry the door?”

“‘Course not!” the gator replied loudly, his long tail swaying slowly to and fro. To the inexperienced it might seem like just a standard pre-programmed movement cycle, but in reality it was a predatory gesture meant to keep Monty focused on potential prey. He wouldn’t seriously hurt the guy, of course—now that the malware was gone, he was physically unable to do such a thing. He could certainly intimidate, though… and even rough the guy up if Sam or Michael tweaked his aggression settings a bit.

Heavy footsteps shook the floor as Monty began following along beside the trio, his grinning maw widening when Terry spared a quick glance at him out of the corner of his eye. In his rumbling voice, Monty remarked: “I’d go along with whatever they say, if I were you—you don’t want to see anyone around here really mad!” His smile got impossibly bigger. “‘Specially not any of my friends…”

This isn't happening, Terry thought, trying to keep his gaze forward and to ignore the mechanical freak show that was currently following him and the CEO down the halls. I’m not being threatened by a fucking robot...

“Thank you, Monty,” Sam told in an appreciative tone as the gator held open a door for all of them to pass through. When Terry slowed, Sam was the one to nudge him into walking again. As they approached the exit, Terry attempted to plant his feet again in resistance.

“W-Wait! Could I come back when you're open again? Come on, this isn't fair...,” he practically whined, attempting to pull at everyone’s heartstrings—though maybe it was futile. That robotic alligator likely only listened to its masters without free will of its own.

“I'll think about it. Monty? Could you help our friend here get moving again, please?” Sam asked with another closed-off body stance, crossing his arms disapprovingly.

“You got it, boss!” Monty replied, taking a big step forward and hoisting Terry into the air by his underarms. The man was lifted like a pillow, clearly no match for Monty’s extreme strength. It was Michael who held the doors now so Monty could carry Terry all the way to the exit. Only when they reached the front entrance did Monty set him down with a laugh, crossing his arms over his chest when the man scrambled away from the imposing gator. “Alllright, ride’s over! Time to go!”

“Remember—sneaking back equals instant lawsuit,” Michael piped up, glaring at Terry with hands on his hips. One set of fingers tapped the taser at his belt in a not-so-subtle threat. “And that’s only if I’m feeling nice.”

Sam relocked the doors as they slammed on Terry, leaving the man in a tizzy. Once out of earshot and only after lowering the exit shields, Samuel put his hands on the top of his head.

“You two—” he laughed, only able to breathe and joke about the situation now that it was over and out of sight. “—nearly made him crap himself. Wow... We need to be more careful with our security protocols.”

Sam rubbed his eyes as the stress of it all came down upon him. To completely fix the security systems, they’d need to being the rest of the Glamrocks back online. It was an upside and downside to having the walk-around characters themselves be a part of the security network. Having the gang wandering around to protect Gregory was their best option now that they knew the Smiths were actively sneaking. And with the souls of the dead wandering this place, Sam felt like they might not only have the police to worry about should Terry or Rita complain to them. If one of those cheesy ghost-hunting shows got word of haunted animatronics, they’d be all over this place…

Samuel begun to pull out his phone and send a text to the whole family:

Cost is clear. I put the front end on lockdown so no one set off the alarms, okay?

“Good thing all we have to do now is fix Roxy—then we can turn the system back on,” Sam remarked absently as he typed.

“That guy’s a piece of work,” Monty murmured, looking to the doors as he flexed his claws. Sammy’s last comment piqued his interest, and he turned to the men with a spark of hesitant hope in his eyes. “Wait, if y’all just gotta fix up Roxy… Does that mean Chica’s ready to go?!”

“She’ll be ready by the start of night shift tomorrow for sure, if not tonight,” Mike replied, running a stressed hand through his hair. The encounter with Terry really jarred him more than he’d like to admit, and he was mentally kicking himself for almost losing his cool.

However, Sam had a good point. Once all the animatronics were up and running, they could reactivate that mysterious “internal network” Michael had been hearing so much about and act as their own security/relay system.

“Actually, Sam, we should probably finish up with Chica asap,” Michael thought aloud. The faster they could move onto the wolf, the better. He opened his mouth to speak, when his phone buzzed with a text from Freddy responding to the group message.

WE WILL STAY CLEAR. I AM TAKING THE CHILDREN BACK DOWNSTAIRS FOR THE NIGHT AS AN EXTRA PRECAUTION. ARE YOU ALRIGHT? DO YOU NEED ANY ASSISTANCE?

Michael snorted, and indicated for Sam to check his phone when the man gave him a questioning look.

“Silly bear got stuck on caps lock,” Michael chuckled, replying that they were just fine and Freddy had a good plan. He paused, then glanced up at the gator. “Monty, mind going with them just for extra security?”

“Nope,” Monty replied easily, as if he could even deny such a request. “I’ve been meanin’ to take a trip down there to see where all the lil guppies hang out anyway. I’ll make sure nothin’ bothers ‘em.”

“Thanks; I’ll go back to the security office and watch the cameras while you work on Chica,” Michael told Sam, simultaneously relaying this plan to Freddy and Charlie. “I doubt he’d come back tonight, but we don’t know what this psycho’s capable of…”

Freddy Fazbear had no clue how to type on a phone and it was precious. The worried text message had stamped a smile onto Sam's mouth. He worked on texting back the group chat, but asked Michael: “You think you're going to need Charlie's help tonight? It could get hairy if Terry shows up again.”

Samuel brought it up, not meaning to rhyme as he spoke before going back to compose his text to Freddy. “We'll be fine. Gonna send Monty down with you. How are the kids?”

Before he could press send Charlie had sent them all something—a moving picture of a cat tackling a baby in a backyard. She captioned the oddly timed meme: The Cat is Sam and Terry is the baby lol

With a roll of his eyes, Sam ignored the text as he suppressed the urge to laugh at something that dumb. Michael snickered at Charlie’s message, texting back:

Lol so true… you want to stick with me in the security office for a bit? Mari’s welcome too but she might want to go with the kids

Aloud, he told Sam and Monty: “Yeah, I’ll hang with Charlie. Sorry this is such a huge mess—”

There he went again, apologizing as if all of this was somehow Michael’s fault. Charlie had been on his case about not doing that for the past week, though it was a hard, decades-ingrained habit to break. With a heavy sigh, Michael shook his head and looked to the pair.

“Anyway, we’re good for now; come on Monty, you and I are going in the same direction.” Before heading back into the depths of the Pizzaplex, Michael squeezed Sammy’s shoulder in friendly acknowledgement, his usual grin quirking up the corner of his mouth. “Thanks for the backup, boss.”

Sam didn't quite understand what Michael had even been apologizing for to begin with. But still, he was glad to give Mike a reassuring glance.

“I've always got your back, buddy,” he replied, waving off both Monty and his friend in favor of heading to his office.

So much to do, Sam thought, and only so much time. It was nearly the weekend, and their scheduled re-opening needed to have everything working again. Sam just had to keep telling himself that everything was going to work out in the end if he managed to work long enough...

***

Down below, the troupe of children had made it safely to the inner workshop and what Gregory had now been affectionately calling the Ghost Diner. In the darkness, Gregory made himself busy by showing the spirits how the drawing tablet worked. Currently, with Bonnie posing on the workbench in a thinker's position, Gregory sketched what he saw.

“Yeah, so when you want to color it, you can just switch to a new layer under the line art you just made,” he explained, making sure there was enough room to show the other kids as they all hid inside the burned out diner. Freddy didn't really want to leave them out of sight, but it was safer if Gregory and the others were completely hidden from view.

“Hey guys, I’ve got another friend for you to hang with!” Henry’s voice sounded bright and calm from the workshop entrance. A few minutes earlier Monty had appeared in the hallway just outside per Michael’s direction, where Henry happened to be keeping watch. After some introductions and brief marveling at each other—Monty in awe of his friends’ creator and Henry astounded by Monty himself—the old ghost led the way to where the children gathered.

“Hey, y’all!” Monty greeted with a wave, taking in the little band of kids. A quick health scan indicated that Gregory wasn’t distressed despite the situation, to the gator’s relief. He also noted that this scan only worked on Gregory, meaning all the others weren't quite human.

At this point, Monty had stopped questioning things in favor of trying to go with the flow, as was his usual nature. As long as everyone was safe and happy, who cared whether they had real heartbeats or not?

“Monty, thank goodness!” Freddy said, moving to hug his animatronic friend around the waist. “Thank you so much for helping.”

“Aw, no worries Fredbear!” Monty replied, throwing back his head in laughter as he ruffled Freddy’s hair aggressively. He acknowledged Bonnie with a wink through his purple shades, though he was quick to direct his attention to the kids. He was still a bit wary of the rabbit. “What’cha doin’? Hey, that’s a great drawin’, squirt!”

***

Michael just got to the office when Charlie and Puppet came banging on one of the security doors. After confirming their identities on the cameras Mike let them in, then sunk into the chair with a heavy sigh.

“Well, we guessed as much but I can now confirm: Gregory’s foster dad is a shithead,” he announced, drumming his fingertips on the desk in annoyance.

Charlie stayed by the door for a second longer, taking in what Michael said and silently wondering what had happened while Marionette quickly slunk inside. Mari was quick to curl up the length of the chair and flop her arms around Michael in a hug.

“What even happened? I was downstairs almost all night,” Charlie said, closing the door behind her as she joined the pair inside.

Henry asked that she stayed downstairs when the chaos began—something about Charlie rushing into danger set him off these days. While he worked on Mari's newest android upgrades, Charlie acted as his assistant despite her very busy mind. The fact that Michael potentially got to beat up Gregory's foster dad without her had put a deep frown on Charlie's face.

“Oh, you know—just gave him the ol' one-two,” Michael joked, as if reading her thoughts. He mimed punching an invisible person before settling back into the chair with a huff, wrapping an arm around Mari's plush frame as she hugged him. “Really, the coward was hiding in the bathroom—Mari caught him and ran to tell me, and when I saw him on the security cameras I alerted the others.”

He let out a humorless laugh, rolling his eyes. “Bastard tried to act like he was concerned about Gregory, and the reason he was sneaking in was because he and his wife hadn't heard anything since she tried to get info. We quickly showed him the door with Monty's help, so I doubt he'll be back tonight.”

Michael's gaze shifted to the cameras, nearly all of which were still and quiet since most of the members of the Pizzaplex were down in the basement where feeds wouldn't reach. The only movement he could see was Sam shuffling around with Chica's prone body, as well as Sun talking animatedly with his new friend in the Daycare. With a sigh, Michael added: “Still, it's not a bad idea to keep an eye out for the rest of the night... we need to be extra vigilant over the next few days, too. Sam's working to get Chica and Roxy fixed up so he can activate the animatronics' extra security protocols.”

It figured that both of the Smiths turned out to be giant assholes. Charlie and Michael expected nothing less from the people that wanted to take Gregory from them and back into harm’s way. While Charlie was the one that seemed to support others, the thought of others coming to take away their little brother had begun to really worry her. Charlie bit at the sides of her nail, following Michael's line of sight to the security feeds. She could sit here and worry, sure. Or she could help to keep Gregory safe.

So Charlie wandered her way to the desk, standing beside Michael as he performed his job. The security outfit certainly looked more familiar on him the longer she saw him in it. Before Michael could catch her gaze, she glanced up and watched both Ennard and Sun playing together. If only they could give Gregory that sort of carefree life...

Sighing, Charlie decided to voice her biggest concerns. “Do you ever wonder if we're going to mess him up? Like... He's going to be like us because of all of this?”

Charlie finally could look at Michael, hoping for reassurance from her friend as she gently worried the sides of her arms with a self-soothing hug. “I like to think we're helping him out by protecting him from everything. But, I don't know sometimes... I-I just know we can't lose him.”

What a loaded question. Michael stared hard at the camera as he gathered his thoughts, a heavy crease forming between his brows. Puppet was still clinging to him, though she'd moved to wrap around his neck in a backwards hug so she could watch the feeds, too. .

“Charlie... the kid decided that he'd rather have a robot bear as a dad over anything else,” he said slowly, gaze flickering up to his friend's for a brief moment. “I think he was already a little messed up before we found him. But...”

He paused, swallowing hard. Mike just wanted one sibling to have a normal life—extended family included. That's really all he'd hoped for. He'd always known it was a fever dream, but with every horrible thing that happened to Gregory over last weekend along with the foster situation, Michael was now a hundred percent sure he was a curse to anyone he chose to call “brother” or “sister.”

“If you mean 'is he going to be mentally scarred and would probably benefit from some serious therapy', then yes; absolutely,” Michael continued, knowing Charlie would understand the self-deprecation this time. “And I have no clue what that Remnant will do to him down the line... God, I wish I'd have saved him from that. Fuck, I'm such a—”

He broke off suddenly, the guilt and regret coming over him like a wave. He'd gotten good at pushing down the feelings over the past few days, for if he thought over everything that he'd been through Michael worried he might go insane. But sometimes, in moments like this, it was all too much. Blindly, he reached out for Charlie's hand while he used the other to furiously swipe at approaching tears.

“All we can do is watch over him and make sure he's as happy as possible, Charlie. I agree—we can't lose him. We can't lose anyone again. I... I don't think I can take it.” The confession was quiet, only meant for Charlie and her protective Puppet to hear.

The sound of Michael fast-approaching apathy and sadness pulled Charlie's vision from the screens to their connected hands. She refused to let Michael say horrible things about himself any longer. While of course she enjoyed poking fun at her friend with only the intentions of making him laugh, when he tried to do it to himself she was quite hard on him. Subsequently, Charlie was pulled closer and she rested her head on Michael's shoulder.

“I heard somewhere it's good to cry,” Charlie told him, shutting her eyes as she felt the same sadness for Gregory. “You can. I'm not going to tell anyone...”

They grew up in a time where crying too much got you yelled at—specifically, Michael's dad despised crying. All of them still had so much to work through, and Charlie knew it was silly to hope that all their shared issues would be solved overnight. It simply wasn't realistic. They would all deal with their personal horrors for the rest of their existences...

After pausing to think over the words without her voice being garbled by her own tears, she was able to tell Michael: “We'll do everything we can, but blaming ourselves won't help Gregory or the others at this point.”

“I know, I know, I just... it's hard,” Mike said, appreciating her presence after all these years of being alone. He let out a mirthless laugh that soon became choked up with the tears he'd been holding back for so long. “Man... our lives really went to shit, didn't they?”

Now things were finally starting to look up, yes, but they'd suffered for so many years trapped in their own physical and mental prisons. With this thought in mind, the stalwart Puppet wrapped around him, and his best friend's head on his shoulder, Michael finally allowed himself to cry.

It was quiet at first, still getting used to the fact that he could let the tears flow without anyone scolding him for not being strong enough. However, soon he was sobbing openly, the camera feeds all but forgotten as he slipped an arm around Charlie's waist to pull her closer. Puppet had to accommodate her reach to include Charlie who was now smushed into Michael's side, both of them apparently needing the comfort. Charlie felt like a pot of water about to boil over. The crying may not help every sad feeling automatically go away, though it was a relief to get every excess emotion out.

Something about watching the strongest boy you knew growing up—someone you had admired to an extent for their apparent bravery—break down sobbing... Well, it gets to a person.

Charlie couldn't help the few speckles of water she left on his shirt. When the two of them could breathe normally again, Charlie refused to leave his side. Pushing everything away and trying to forget was hard. Especially when everything reminded you of what happened. It was both her greatest comfort and heartbreaking to know that Michael felt the same as she did.

Before long Charlie was playing with Michael's hair in the way she found he liked, blankly watching the video feeds with Mari.

“Puppet—” Charlie said, trying to lift her friend's spirits now. “—if you tell anyone we were crying in here, I'll be sooo mad.” She spoke sternly, a smile cracking her lips as Puppet shook her head fervently. Motioning a zipper being pulled over her static mouth, Mari mimed throwing away a key to tell them that their little secret was safe with her.

“Watch her actually be a total chatterbox when she gets her new body,” Michael remarked with a small upturn of his lips, playfully jabbing Charlie's side. “Just like the one who designed her.”

His face felt heavy and splotchy. He couldn't remember the last time he'd cried like that, though it must’ve been decades ago. Even the minor breakdowns over the past weekend had nothing on what just transpired in this tiny security office. Despite this, after letting it out Mike did feel better in a way. Not great—he didn't think he'd ever feel great about things. But at least Charlie was here for him, and vice versa. They'd been ripped apart when they needed each other the most, and now they could finally make up for all they'd lost, no matter how slow the process was.

The guard let out a sigh, allowing himself to relax as Charlie continued idly messing with his hair. He was still on alert, but he really didn't think Terry would show his face around again tonight. Hopefully the man wasn't that stupid.

“...You think the kids are giving Freddy a run for his money?” Michael asked, if only for a topic change. “I know he's literally made to handle groups of them, but surely he wasn't designed for prolonged exposure to the likes of my sister and Cassidy...”

Charlie laughed at the sentiment, now sliding her arms around Michael’s shoulders to try and help dry off his face. All his tears seemed to collect under his chin, so Charlie whisked them away with the long sleeves of her shirt.

“Those twins, too—oh my god,” Charlie brought up. Nearly all of the children down there were a handful to take care of. The only one who you practically never had to worry about was Hannah; even Evan had his moments. After controlling her giggles, egged on by the quick jabs to her ribs, Charlie laughed: “He's got Bonnie and Monty! I'm sure they're holding up. My dad's patient but I doubt he's getting much work done.”

Still, it was her hope that once Mike's shift was over, Puppet would have a way to talk to them come dawn. Before when they shared a connected consciousnesses, Charlie was completely in sync with her toy friend. Now it’d become only slightly hard to decipher exactly what she meant all the time. And while Mari had personality, it would become much clearer with the ability to speak soon enough.

“Oh yeah, he's getting zero work done,” Michael agreed with a nod, leaning back in his chair to cross his arms over his chest and set his feet on the security desk. He grinned with the thought of wrangling all those excitable kids. “You're right, though—at least they've got help. Bonnie's good at entertaining, and I have a feeling Monty would just throw them over his shoulder if they get too obnoxious...”

As Charlie imagined the chaos happening below, a faint smile lit up her face.

“You'd do the same thing if you were watching all of them,” Charlie replied, as if she herself was a total saint. Whenever she babysat the little Aftons with Michael, she remembered it being an uphill battle for them to not mess up the house or have anyone actively hurt when Mike's parents came home...

***

Michael's guess wasn't too far off. By this point most of the kids had gotten tired of sitting around talking or watching Gregory draw and decided to pursue other venues of entertainment. Freddy chose to be a monitor, observing the whole room and being available to those that needed or wanted to hang out with him. His gaze was currently fixated on Monty, who much to the former bear's annoyance was currently tossing Cassidy, Cain, and Quinn as high as possible and seeing who could get the most air time. Freddy couldn't really complain, as if they got to close to the ceiling they could simply phase through it... However, the thought of Monty doing this with more corporeal children caused Freddy to let out a preemptive sigh.

Henry was actually able to get more progress made with Mari's android than he'd expected, despite being interrupted what seemed like every five minutes for a kid to show him something interesting or ask him a random question. The old soul loved the attention, though; it reminded him of the days back in the original diner when life was good.

In the bowels of the Pizzaplex, Gregory was helping Bonnie find a relic from the past. The rabbit could practically see the old guitar in his mind. It was technically his—just an older version of himself owned the thing. When a sooty, filth-covered Gregory emerged from the backdoor holding a guitar up by the neck, he flaunted it in front of the old rabbit and Hannah.

“Is this the one?!” Gregory called as he strutted for the rest of the group.

“THAT'S the very one! Here, here—bring it over so I can tune it,” Bonnie shouted excitably.

Running between his legs ducked Liz, who was currently playing a game of tag that'd lasted well over an hour now with Evan. The high energy of all the children was being handled well by all four responsible figures thus far. After Gregory handed off the instrument, Bonnie was quick to employ his automatic tuning system as he expertly plucked the strings.

“Here, Hannah!” Bonnie larked, handing off the guitar after making sure the strings wouldn't just snap on her from their age. “Why don't we practice chords? Maybe we'll learn a song tonight!”

“WHOA! Seriously?!” The sight of Bonnie's original guitar, even more special in Hannah's eyes due to its clearly old vibe was enough to send her into an excitable fit. She jumped up and down, unable to contain her glee as she reverently took the instrument from Bonnie's paws. After looking around for a moment, she settled against a wall in a quieter corner of the room, already re-familiarizing herself with the strings and few chords her brother had been able to teach her before her fateful trip to the Pizzaplex.

Gregory, having no real musical talent to speak of, ran towards Monty now with the full intention of being launched in the air.

“MY TURN! My turn, please!” he exclaimed, arms up in the air and waving to gain the gator's attention.

“Well hurry up, squirt, 'fore your dad freaks out!” Monty called, bending down to grab Gregory at the maximum throwing angle.

“Monty, do not even think about it!” Freddy warned sure enough, eyes narrowed as he took a step towards the rampaging gator. However, Gregory's speed was no match for his dad's, and before Freddy could blink he watched his son get launched high into the air, the top of his shaggy brown hair only missing the ceiling by mere inches.

“He's fine!” Monty insisted with a hearty laugh, backing away with Gregory clutched in his arms as Freddy started towards them with fire in his bright blue eyes. The gator knew full-well this could have dire consequences, but he couldn't resist adding on: “Get the stick outta your butt and loosen up, Fredbear!”

Being launched in the air willingly left Gregory shouting—a fun, carefree shriek that garnered the attention of the twins and Cassidy. They could relate after having Monty throw them for the last twenty minutes. When Gregory touched back down in Monty's arms he was giggling. His poor dad was going to blow a circuit, or have a simulated heart attack if Monty did that again. But Gregory felt the need to reach out and tell him: “Dad! I'm totally fine! Do you wanna throw me instead?”

Maybe the issue was that Freddy still didn't quite trust other people not to hurt him? The bear couldn't protect him forever; even Gregory knew that, but he loved his Dad enough to at least try not to give him a stress-induced coma. Which reminded Gregory to ask Henry later—could his robots get grey hairs?

“Y'all, let’s not fight! It's s'pose to be a little party down here!” Bonnie called, always the peacemaker, helping Hannah keep time with her chords as he tapped his foot to the beat.

Gregory's reassurance and smiling face worked surprisingly well to get Freddy off Monty's case tonight. Freddy knew he was being overly protective, but he couldn't help it—the whole situation with the foster family was something completely out of his knowledge base and left him deeply distressed, especially when he couldn't do anything but hide away with the kids. He wanted to go out and actively help, but he understood it was best to let Sam and Michael handle it. There was a whole other side to this slippery slope of their “adoption” of Gregory that Freddy hadn't the faintest idea how to work through, and he couldn't risk jeopardizing anything. Even so, taking a backseat after literally being the leader of a band for years was a hard concept for Freddy to wrap his head around...

But right now, Gregory was just trying to have some fun. He did trust Monty implicitly, despite how it seemed. Bonnie's words were the final trigger Freddy needed to snap him out of his seeing-red funk. He blinked a few times, then his expression softened into its usual kind smile. Instead of taking Gregory away, he leaned forward to press a quick kiss to the top of the boy's head, then backed off with a slightly embarrassed laugh. “Sorry, you two—do not mind me. Have fun! Ah, Monty, just... please throw him a little lower, will you?”

“Can do, Freddy!” the gator replied with a jaunty salute, then proceeded to toss Gregory again without warning, eliciting an even louder shriek than before. He was careful to make sure the boy's head didn't come nearly as close to the ceiling this time around, if only to save his old pal the stress.

Gregory had been taken off-guard and paid the price of trusting Monty completely. He yelled as he was thrust upwards, positive there'd be room for a flip—though Gregory wouldn't dare try it for fear of breaking his neck from the height. Falling back into Monty's waiting arms made him miss the ground after the second throw despite how fun it was, eyes squeezed shut as he laughed regardless; it was more adrenaline he felt in lieu of fear.

At the other end of the room, Bonnie was sure to give Fredbear a positive thumbs up. He wouldn't leave his friend hanging as he watched the two come to an agreement everyone seemed happy with.

***

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