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angelofrainfrogs · 1 year ago

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Spend the Night: Ch. 10

~Coauthored by @zeitghest~

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

Description: The familiar melody of Grandfather’s Clock chimes through the echoing halls of the Pizzaplex…

Charlie wakes up in her Puppet’s vessel yet again with one goal in mind: to stop William Afton’s reign of terror for good. She enlists the help of Glamrock Freddy, the emphatic leader of the newest iteration of the Fazbear Band. But there seems to be more to this bear than meets the eye—and the same goes for the mysteriously familiar kid the duo find tinkering with animatronics down in Parts & Service.

With some help from friends new and old, Charlie’s journey into the bowels of the Pizzaplex will unravel mysteries none of them ever expected.

Rating: T

Read on Ao3

Now behave For the voices in the halls Will try to eat you up alive So before the show begins Please don't hold against our sins 'Cause by dawn you'll be crumbling in your skin

~Unfixable by Dagames~

“You haven't been a home to me in decades, Father,” Michael spat, releasing Charlie so she could get out of his way.

He honestly didn't know what he was going to do right now. There were so many options: claw William's eyes out? Slice off his ears first? Go for the legs and incapacitate him, then work on the ears?

But... no. Michael caught that gleam in the rabbit's eyes—that look of utmost confidence, like nothing in the world could hurt him at that moment. And then, the gravity of the situation finally dawned on the eldest Afton.

Gone was the greenish-yellow fur, decayed after years of being soaked with a combination of oil, mold, and rotting human remains. The outer casing, once torn enough to show literal human bones and mummified tendons poking through, was now bright purple and pristine. A golden, red-rimmed star graced his left cheek, reminiscent of a sticker a kid might press onto their favorite toy. This was still Bonnie, but not the version Michael had associated with his father for so many years.

In a hushed, horrified tone, he whispered: “You... you have a new body? How...?”

“Ah ah ah!” William tutted, gently tapping the side of his muzzle, the nose squeaking with each press. “I'm an entertainer, Michael. I can't give away every magic trick.”

He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, Bonnie’s ever-smiling grin seeming to widen. The over confidence in his movements reminded Charlie of the day those angry little souls had cornered him, right before he ran into that bunny suit. This was what Charlie truly feared with William’s persistent immortality, and she tried to discreetly make herself smaller as she stood by her friend.

“Honestly—it would bore you two with how much you missed,” William sighed, looking to Michael and raising Bonnie’s dark eyebrows. “In a roundabout sort of way, I have a new body the same way you do.”

As usual, that answered nothing at all. William had never explained anything that was happening to them, only leaving clues in his wake for Michael to find and scrabble the mismatched pieces together.

“Now that I've leveled the playing field, I believe you both wanted to speak to me?” He gave them a lopsided smirk, knowing that Charlie was cowering. She didn't even look animate at that moment, frozen like a statue behind Foxy’s swashbuckling coat.

Initially, Michael could only growl in response. He took a threatening step forward, but it was half-hearted. He hated to admit it, but he was a bit scared. William was intimidating in this new form, so self-confident and sure—a far cry from the last time Mike had seen him, rotting and burning on the way to his own personal hell.

Well. So much for that plan, Uncle Henry, Michael thought with a grimace. Eventually he found the will to talk again, voice cold and hard.

“We want to do more than just speak to you,” he snarled through clenched teeth, flexing sharp claws and an even sharper hook. “Most of what we want to do doesn't involve words. But I do have one thing to say—I've tried to tell you for years, but you didn't listen.” Michael let out a mirthless laugh. “You've never listened, though, so I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised. But maybe you'll be more receptive with your new and improved ears.”

He locked gazes with his father and spoke in a tone that begged absolutely no question. “I HATE you.”

William didn't really expect anything different. Or, really a response at all. His ears twitched at the words, giving off a look of... remorse?

Surely not; it was doubtful that man was even capable of such an emotion anymore.

“Such harsh words for your father, Michael. My only regret is not telling you everything from the start. Probably would have made all this less confusing for you.” William turned, unconcerned by his son's threatening posture. He instead focused on fixing his bowtie in the mirror.

“—Got to say, this reunion is a bit disappointing. I expected at least a ‘thanks, dad,’” he went on, his reflection gesturing towards Charlie as his eyes locked onto Michael’s in the glass. “I understand that Charlotte hates me. What excuse do you have, Michael?”

“What excuse...?”

That did it. If Mike thought he was mad before, it was nothing compared to how he felt right now.

“What excuse?! You've taken everything from me, and killed so many innocent people in the process! Charlie, Lizzie... even Uncle Henry wouldn't have died in that fire if you hadn't forced him into making that stupid plan to get rid of you—and I'm so, utterly disappointed it didn't work.”

Sharp teeth were bared now as Michael completely ignored the others in the room. It was just William and himself. Father and son. Murderer and—

“You even killed me, you know.” Michael's voice was dangerously soft, an opposite reflection of the turmoil and pain he felt inside. “If it weren't for your atrocious Funtimes, I wouldn't have been scooped! Did you even know about that?! How the soul of my dead sister and her creepy robot friends thought I was you and tore my insides out, then piloted my body around for a week until they left me to die on the sidewalk?!”

Michael palmed at his metal stomach, a faint echo of the past and the shock he'd experienced that day.

“But unfortunately, my soul stuck around. Didn't you wonder why the fuck I was purple when I finally found you again? It wasn't just the uniform, dad—I was corpse, just like you. And it was all because I was cursed with your disgusting, murderous face.

“So, to answer your question: there’s quite a few reasons why I despise you with every fiber of my being.”

Finally Michael clenched his jaw shut, unwilling to say more. If he tried, he feared he might just start screaming. He glanced at Charlie by his side, and too late he realized that he wasn't sure how much she knew about his initial death and how he'd existed afterwards.

Puppet had her mouth covered. It was horrific. Michael had truly suffered through the years. The trial of watching everyone around you die, including yourself... Unable to stop the horrible cycle that William refused to end.

“Why?” Charlie asked, her voice box muffled by her hands. “William, why?”

Will was close to the mirror now, hand braced against it. Death had jaded him, certainly. His feelings long-eroded, the only thing left in his mottled brain was his original idea—to use the souls of children to reanimate his loved ones. When one dead child became another, in turn the universe sent another tragedy to rip his family away.

But despite all this, William persisted. When he found the world's best bandage for the nastiest boo-boo, how could he just sit idly by and let death win?

“I didn't mean to leave you, Michael. You're right, it's all my fault.” William turned, moving slowly as he stepped closer to them. Answering Charlie's question, he responded in a delusional voice. “Sometimes, you'll do crazy things for the people you care about. You can't stop me...”

“Killing kids sure is a funny way to show you care!” Michael yelled, shifting in front of Charlie protectively. “This ends tonight, Father.”

And with that he lunged, pirate hook glinting in the dim light as he swiped at William's face.

“No!” Vanny shrieked, finally spurred into action by the legitimate threat to her savior. She lurched forward as well, though she'd been lingering in the doorway and had a few feet to travel before she could reach them.

Charlie thought if she couldn't muster the courage to fight William, she'd keep Vanessa from getting herself killed while Michael fought his father. Sideswiping Vanny, Puppet attempted to grapple her to the ground.

“I'm sorry, Vanessa!” she yelped over the sound of them both hitting the hard concrete.

Vanny simply shrieked as she was tackled. She struggled valiantly, but though Charlie wasn't nearly as tough as her Glamrock counterparts she was still stronger than a human—even a pissed off one in a bunny suit.

William saw the attack coming, ducking his head as the heavy claw swung to pierce the metal casing on his face. A short gasp escaped his lips, surprised by his own speed before shooting a fist out.

“I did it to bring him back! I would have done it for any of you!” he explained fruitlessly. William had gone crazy, unable to understand how destroying all those naïve children’s futures would never make up for the death of his own family.

Michael grunted at the blow to his stomach, unable to dodge fast enough. Unlike his father with decades of experience piloting an animatronic that was far inferior to his new one, Mike had only been at this for less than an hour.

“Don't... don't you dare talk about Evan!” Michael yelled once he'd regained his balance. “I wanted him back, too, but I also needed you! My dad, who was supposed to help me, just... left me!”

Yes, William might’ve been physically there to make sure his remaining kids’ basic needs of food and shelter were met, but Evan's death unintentionally severed whatever emotional connection they'd had. A cross between a sob and a growl of anguish escaped Foxy's voice box as Mike tried another swipe at William, this time for his arm.

The emotional drain of this encounter was already taking its toll. Mike was losing focus, unable to think of how to outsmart this tricky, old soul as his mind narrowed to a pinpoint of:

Slash, maim, destroy, KILL

Vanny's anguished screams were freaking Charlie out. If she’d broken a bone, she was going to feel awful… Still, it was better than either of the enraged Aftons outright murdering her by accident. That was what she and Michael were trying to avoid in the first place.

The Bonnie suit was dexterous, but William could only move so fast. A light scratch marked up the paint on his arm as he dodged his son's second cutthroat swipe.

“I thought you were strong enough to be on your own! You hate me for having faith in you?!” Jumping onto a nearby workbench, William shouted at Michael as he kicked crates of spare parts to keep him at bay.

“How the hell was I supposed to know you had faith in me?! I was still a kid!” Michael snapped back, stalking closer to William and doing his best to either dodge or smack away the flying parts that came at him. “You might not have treated me like one, but I was! And I'd just watched my brother die in front of my eyes! Why can't you understand how horrific that was?! All the guilt I felt?! I know it was my fault, but you weren't even there to listen to me admit it!”

Vanny could see William steadily getting closer to her. Spurred on by this she redoubled her efforts to escape Puppet's grasp, ignoring the dull ache in her right arm; she'd probably bruised something, but to her relief it didn't quite feel like a broken limb. After a bit, Vanny managed to struggle her upper torso free and hold out her arms, hoping William would be able to snatch her up and take them both away now that he finally had a body of his own.

“Michael, I—” Will began, before he spied where Charlie was wrestling Vanessa on the ground.

She was the key for getting around in this damn place. Vanny was still useful, and so William hopped down from the table and kicked Charlie away like she was nothing more than an annoying gnat. The Puppet smacked the wall painfully, her skull beginning to emit sparks and a hard grinding noise as she attempted to silence her music box. Moving suddenly became harder now.

Scooping Vanny up and holding her under the arms, William brandished the patchwork rabbit towards his son. “Ah! Don't move! You wouldn't want to hurt my friend by accident, right, Michael?”

Vanny giggled deliriously. It seemed that the more unhinged William became, so did the lingering glitch in her brain. What Vanny perceived as a comforting hug and a friendly warning was Will mostly just using her as a meat shield—yet she was lax in his grip, letting most of her weight drape over the animatronic's arm. “Yes... We're friends~”

Michael froze in his tracks. Directly in front of him was his father, the man he'd been trying to take down for nearly his entire life. Again, William was using an innocent to further his own selfish needs. The orange eyes of the fox shifted. To his left was Charlie, clearly damaged and hurting. Mike could try for Will, and he might actually be able to do something about him once and for all...

But that was only a possibility. However, there was a guarantee that William would injure Vanessa without hesitation if Michael moved towards him. He couldn't risk another life lost—physically, at least. He didn't even want to think about the mental torment Vanessa was going through with a crazed child murderer in her head.

Michael turned away from his father with a snarl, rushing to his dearest friend. As he gently picked her up and analyzed the fresh damage, he called out in a strained voice: “Charlie! Charlie, are you awake? Can you still talk?!”

William happily squeezed Vanny, pleased that the plan worked as he attempted to shuffle out of the room.

Live to fight another day, he thought, knowing Vanny couldn't possibly disagree with how happy she was to be snuggling with her favorite pal. Though it hurt to leave Michael yet again, he knew his son just wouldn't understand yet. Clearly he’d been hanging around Henry's brat for too long, and she’d started to make Michael soft.

Charlie was having trouble turning her head and her music box drowned out any helpful words she may have had. All she could do was raise her hand and point at the troublesome bunnies escaping. She was more worried about William leaving than her own wellbeing.

“Ha-Have to s-stop—” Charlie sputtered in a garbled radio frequency. The harder she tried to talk, the worse the grinding noise became.

“Shh, shh, okay, just—relax,” Michael tried to soothe, knowing his words were probably useless. He could feel the panic and confusion emanating from the Marionette, and it took all his willpower not to turn around and stop William as he ran out the door with his human “friend.” Michael waited for the heavy animatronic footsteps to recede down the hall, teeth clenched and head hung in shame. Once he could no longer hear Will stomping he lifted Charlie into his arms, helping her wrap around his body as best she could.

“I'm sorry I let him get away,” he murmured in whatever was considered the Puppet's ear, rocking her slightly in a vague attempt at comfort. “But if I acted again, he was going to kill Vanessa, and I... I couldn't let him do that. She's still useful to him, so he's not going to try anything for a while. At least, I hope.”

He stopped shifting, squeezing his eyes shut as he took in a simulated, shuddering breath. “God, I can't... I-I let you get hurt again, Charlie. I’m sorry...”

“No—t you—your f-f-fault,” she corrected as her hand went out to weakly pet the side of his head.

They had fallen right into the trap. The bastard couldn't even fake being sincere before trying to kill her again, Charlie thought with a white-hot anger. Now Vanny and Gregory were in more danger than ever because she still wasn’t strong enough to stop him. None of this was because of Michael, though, and she needed him to know it.

“D-Don't bla—ame yourself,” her voice box strained to say.

Michael simply squeezed her tight for a good while. Then, he let out a determined huff and turned to the doorway.

“Right, no time to waste—let's get you repaired so we can track down those bunnies again,” he said, starting to walk back towards Parts & Service.

Repairing Charlie wouldn't be a problem at all with his technical prowess. Michael would get her fixed up and then they could check on Freddy and Gregory to make sure the pair were okay before resuming their search for William. In the chaos of their recent encounter, he'd almost forgotten about the other rogue animatronics, the boy hiding from them, and his steadfast robotic protector.

...Almost. Despite it all, Gregory was in the back of his mind. He couldn't let another child befall the same fate as those they'd already lost due to William's madness.

It was frustrating. Clearly her friend needed words of encouragement, but Charlie was unable to properly annunciate her feelings to Michael about how he couldn't be there to protect everyone all the time, no matter how hard he tried. Without Freddy, yes, Charlie would be furious that they’d left Gregory behind.

But thankfully, none of them had to do this alone.

The Puppet did attempt to console Michael some more, but as she tried to nuzzle against him her head snapped painfully to the side and her music box crackled slightly behind the mask. “S... sorry—orry.”

“Hey, I said relax!” Michael gently chided, hoping his light demeanor would detract from his obvious worry. He’d be able to fix her—he would. She’d be speaking normally in no time at all. He managed a small laugh. “You’re still not going to listen to me after all these years, huh? So stubborn…”

She was trying too hard, maybe. Charlie felt called out as he carried her through the darkness. Even with her dented skull, she’d fight tooth and nail to try and do things her way.

Still, it was hard to argue with Michael’s logic. Stressing herself out would only make the damage worse. For now Charlie would have to be content with being carried like a doll again. Giving Mike something close to a pouting huff, her hands fell uselessly to relax on her torso as she remembered all the times she took not being broken for granted.

“Much better!” Mike’s laugh was a bit more genuine now, eyes lighting up as he spied the repair cylinder. He wasted no time in rushing inside and locking the door. Moon had disappeared to who knows where after their last encounter, but Michael didn’t want to risk being caught by surprise should he or another animatronic return.

Righting the overturned chair, he gently set Charlie in it. “Okay! First thing I’ll do is check inside your faceplate to see—”

Whatever excitement has started to build was instantly quashed as Michael moved his right hand to begin working… only to remember that he now had a shining hook in place of fingers. That certainly put a damper on a fast repair.

“Well, shit.”

***

Freddy hadn’t had time to respond to Charlie before she and Michael rushed out of the security office in search of whatever wrote those taunting messages on the monitor. The bear stared after them, blinking a few times; at least they’d had the wherewithal to close the door behind them.

Freddy soon refocused on his most pressing concern: Gregory, who was still sitting in his lap. Now that the others were gone it was just the two of them, and by the look on the poor boy’s face it was clear their swift departure distressed him.

“Are you alright, superstar?” Freddy asked, looking down with concern.

Gregory shook his head. Whatever had gotten the two so worried now had completely vanished from the monitors. Lifting his eyes, the boy met Freddy’s gaze worriedly.

“Is there any way we can help them?” he decided to ask, wondering if this battle was something they could aid in or if they’d just have to sit back and wait.

“At the moment, I do not know,” Freddy admitted with a frown.

Of course he wanted to help, but Michael’s reaction had been so strong, Freddy knew that whatever they were up against was a far greater threat than he realized. If only they’d actually gotten to talk to each other before he and Charlie stormed off…

Freddy’s eyes snapped to Gregory’s. The bear might have been out of commission for a while, but the boy hadn’t.

“You can help me with something, though—there is a small gap in my memory from when I was powered down,” he explained. “Did you learn any new information from Charlie and Michael while I was out? Anything about them personally, or this situation as a whole?”

Clearly Mike’s soul had found its way into Foxy, but how much did Gregory understand about their true ghostly nature? Did he know that Michael and Charlie were more than just rogue AI programs like Freddy had indicated earlier? The bear needed to gauge the boy’s level of understanding before he could speak further so he didn’t overwhelm him.

Gregory looked to Freddy again with a heavy crease in his brow. Poor, innocent Freddy. He was going to be shocked when he heard this... It’s a good thing he was already sitting down.

“Oh man,” Gregory began, bracing himself by placing a hand at the middle of the bear’s chest. “I don’t know how to tell you this…”

With the concerned look the bear was giving him, he figured the best way to say it was to come right out with it. After a huge sigh, Gregory admitted: “I’m sorry… But I found out that Mike and Charlie? They’re ghosts—they’ve been haunting this place for a while I think. I know that might be hard to understand, but… but they’re just people, you know? I think they died super young.”

He hoped this didn’t change the way Freddy saw their friends in the long run.

“…Ah.” The bear nodded in understanding, not seeming shocked at all. “So they told you. I was aware of their ghostly nature, though I do not know how or why they came to be this way.” He gave Gregory an apologetic smile. “I am sorry we kept that from you—we were not sure how you would react.”

Then he frowned, processing something else Gregory said. “Wait… They are both young?”

This time there was a hint of shock in his voice. He realized just then how little he actually knew about the spirits. He’d seen Charlie’s face in Michael’s memories, but the man in Freddy’s head still remained a mystery. Whatever jumbled thoughts had slipped through when they were tied together still didn’t make much sense to the bear.

Then, something clicked: Michael and… Charlie. No—Charlotte. That was her full name. She’d revealed her identity earlier, when Freddy was still new to the concept of ghosts and his electronic brain couldn’t quite connect all the dots.

“When I was human, my father was the co-owner of the original Fazbear dinner.”

She was Charlie Emily. So then, if she’d claimed to know Michael for a long time the logical conclusion was that he was in fact Michael Afton—son to the other founder of Fazbear Entertainment, William, who'd been mysteriously wiped from every record possible for reasons unknown to anyone in this day and age.

But… that was impossible. Charlotte had died many years ago, and Michael had gone missing a few years after. Even Freddy’s simple history of the company told him that much.

So if they were somehow back from the dead… what did that mean?

Oh great! Gregory wondered what other secrets were being kept from him. While he pouted as Freddy told him the truth, he didn’t seem very mad—just annoyed at being out of the loop. Honestly, things could be a lot weirder. They’d already faced strangeness head-on together, as killer robots had seemed farfetched in Gregory’s arsenal of potential threats until this evening.

Back to Freddy’s question. How old was Michael really? Hard to say, coming from a kid who thought anyone over the age of eighteen was an “adult.” When Gregory saw Mike’s face—his real face—he looked pretty young. Whether he was still a teen had Gregory scratching his head, though he was willing to bet Michael was on the older side given his attitude towards himself and his apparent love of 80’s glam metal.

Gregory gave Freddy an undecided shrug. “I think he’s probably, like… like—if we’re talking about when he died? I saw his ghost, and he didn’t look super old. Maybe 20, 21?”

Gregory was terrible with guessing ages anyway, and he could only assume from the stuff he’d learned through movies that ghosts’ appearances were essentially “stuck” as they were when they kicked the bucket. Still, that left the question of how Charlie and Mike lost their lives and attached themselves to this place and the animatronics around them.

Even with Gregory’s haphazard guess of Michael’s age, Freddy’s assumption still tracked relatively well. He wouldn’t know for sure until he asked them, but combining all his scattered knowledge it did seem like their new friends were in fact Michael Afton and Charlotte Emily.

“…I think this mystery goes much deeper than you and I can hope to understand until we reunite with our friends,” Freddy eventually said with a slow shake of his head. Then he gave Gregory a smile and gently ruffled his hair. “But that is alright—as we do not know how long they will take, you and I can still make ourselves useful by getting the rest of those access passes. The more areas of the Pizzaplex are open to us, the better off we will be in the long run.”

He looked to the monitors again, his expression falling slightly. “And if we find a way to stop the other animatronics from chasing you along the way… so be it.”

Freddy hoped they would simply be able to avoid his infected friends while they wandered, but based on Roxy’s increasingly erratic behavior he had a feeling they might be on higher alert as the night went on. If things came down to it, Freddy would protect Gregory in whatever way necessary—even if it was at the expense of his once-lovable companions.

Gregory could think of a few ways to stop them from chasing him. Smash them; dismantle them; burn them. Really, if Freddy wasn't looking and one of his "buddies" was threatening him, the kid might just snap. If Freddy happened to find one of his pals smashed from a fall at a broken escalator, Gregory would own up to it if asked. Though he couldn't see himself regretting it.

After all, they could be rebuilt and downloaded back into new bodies; Gregory couldn't. Not unless he was like Michael or Charlie.

“I'm ready if you are!” the boy said, excited to get moving again. The faster they got those access passes, the quicker they could help the others and escape the danger of the Pizzaplex.

“Excellent! Now, the next two passes can be found in the Monty Golf and Fazer Blast offices,” Freddy explained. “I believe the easiest one to retrieve is in the golf course; however, we need Party Passes to enter both locations, so…”

He trailed off, staring straight ahead with a frozen expression of concentration, save for his eyes which rapidly moved back and forth. Freddy’s AI was calculating the most logical path to achieve their objective based on all the tasks needed to do so.

“Alright, here is the plan!” he announced after a moment, ready to make some progress. “Chica keeps a stock of Party Passes in her room; we will go there first, retrieve the passes, then stop by my room on the way to Monty Golf—I have a gift for you that I think will prove quite useful to both of us.” The bear grinned, knowing Gregory would be excited by this prospect. Hopefully getting a present would lighten his spirits a bit. “Then, we can head to Monty Golf, retrieve the next security card, and return here to figure out the next step. How does that sound?”

Gregory looked at Freddy like he’d put stars in his eyes. He’d seen the animatronics give gifts to children at their parties before—usually a company raffle or special ticket that a kid could use to receive an exclusive prize.

“Heck yeah! Let's blow this popsicle stand!” Gregory exclaimed, hopping off Freddy’s lap and rushing to the door. He seemed to bounce slightly from one foot to another as he waited for the bear to take his hand, anticipating the useful gift.

Freddy laughed at the boy's contagious excitement, quickly unplugging his charging cord and setting it on the desk. He debated carrying it around in his stomach hatch just in case of another power drain, but he'd much rather assure that Gregory had room to hide inside if needed. Besides, the path they were about to take was littered with charging pods, so Freddy should have no problem locating one if his battery started to drain a bit too low for comfort.

Taking Gregory's hand, the bear led him back to Rockstar Row. They looked around cautiously for animatronics, but it was eerily silent in the museum. The others must be on patrol elsewhere in the Pizzaplex—a concerning thought for later, but it suited their immediate purposes just fine. After a quick stop in Chica's room to snatch a few Party Passes, the pair were back in Freddy's abode.

“Let me see...,” Freddy murmured, rummaging around in the drawers of his vanity. “I know I had one in here—aha!”

With a triumphant grin, he held up a small object by the tips of his claws. It was a child-sized watch, made to resemble Freddy's color palate and even complete with a set of tiny ears and top hat. “Take this—it is a novelty Freddy Fazwatch. This one is particularly special, as it is synced directly to myself. This way, I will be able to communicate with you if we ever get separated.”

Gregory had never been given such a gift before. It was on his wrist in mere seconds as he admired the sturdy, rounded plastic edges. There were several neat properties of the watch, despite its size. He could write notes on the interactive touch screen and even pull up a map. With the ability to zoom in on any attraction or store to get his bearings, Gregory wouldn't have to worry about accidentally being separated from Freddy or the others anymore!

Testing out the watch Gregory raised his wrist to his face, feeling like a spy from a futuristic movie.

“Can you hear me? Over.” He chuckled, able to hear himself echoing somewhat from the bear’s close proximity. “Thank, Freddy!”

“You are very welcome, superstar!” Freddy replied, his voice coming from both the watch and the bear himself. “Now you can call for me if you are ever in trouble—or if you ever just want to talk. Over.”

His expression softened at Gregory's smiling face. He'd never seen the boy so happy before, since he'd mostly been running from things trying to hurt him from the moment they’d met. The bear was glad that he could provide some joy, no matter how small it was.

As he watched Gregory continue to check out the features of the watch, Freddy felt a strange pang in his chest. He wasn't quite sure what prompted it, nor what it really was... The closest point of reference he had was a file in his databank of simulated emotions labeled “affection.” He cared about all the children he met, of course—he was literally designed to.

But Gregory... he was special. Maybe it was simply because they'd been through so many tough things in such a short amount of time, or maybe it was due to the ghost that’d apparently lived in his head for who knows how long. Michael's emotions were strong, after all, so who’s to say they couldn't rub off on an incredibly sentient AI?

As Freddy stared down at this brave, resilient child, he realized that he couldn't let him go back to that foster home. Until they found a more suitable guardian, someway, somehow, Freddy vowed to protect Gregory until he could no longer function.

On the other hand, Gregory tended to keep those affectionate feelings down. Hell, he'd only just become comfortable hugging the animatronics after discovering which ones were friendly versus murderous—and even that was dicey with those like the Daycare attendant. If Gregory wasn't so stoic for a child, he'd probably gush about how Freddy was his favorite.

That he loved him...

Though if life taught Gregory anything, it was that good things aren't meant to last. He’d wait to tell Freddy that he didn't want to leave—and that if he had to leave, Freddy would be coming with him one way or another. By the end of the night, he wouldn't be surprised if a patrol car was waiting outside to pick Gregory back up, ready to corral him back to his foster family...

Still, he'd let Freddy know his immediate appreciation with a quick hug. Even if the gift was essential to helping them, it was thoughtful nonetheless. Gregory would probably be bothering him a lot should they be separated for even the smallest reason, if only to keep tabs on the bear.

“Monty Golf next?” he asked, curiously flicking between the maps as he scoped out the gator’s attraction ahead of time.

“Yes—the access pass is in the back staff area. We will need to cross through some of the golf course to get to it.” Freddy peered down at the watch as well. Those camera feeds were definitely going to be useful for traversing this place full of wild robots out for Gregory's blood. “I do not see Monty roaming around—we should move quickly though, in case he decides to show up.”

During the day, the animatronics defaulted to staying in their attractions unless performing on stage, attending a birthday party, or otherwise requested to make an appearance somewhere else in the Pizzaplex. Even on those rare occasions they'd been allowed to roam during night shift, the group usually hung out together in one attraction before splitting off to do their own things until summoned back to their rooms. It wouldn't surprise Freddy at all to see the gator's tail swishing just out of the camera's view the next time they checked.

Trotting down the hall with Freddy's hand enveloping his, Gregory was feeling more confident and less scared roaming the massive complex. He wasn't alone, and the chances of them running into something friendly had technically increased. His mood began to turn further as they entered the dimly lit, electric swamp-themed attraction. The ambient sounds promised a fun game, and so did the music playing automatically as the attraction sensors caught Gregory's movements upon entry.

“It really sucks that Monty’s sick,” Gregory sighed, almost melancholic as he looked across an indoor pond. “It would’ve been real cool hanging out with him here…”

“I think you and Monty would get along fantastically,” Freddy said, smiling down at him. Gregory's rambunctious personality was just the type of kid Monty adored—someone up for trying anything and everything, willing to check out whatever cool topic caught their attention next. If the gator was himself, Freddy knew that he'd probably have quite the time keeping Gregory and Monty apart.

“Perhaps once all this is over and everyone is back to normal, you can stop by for a round of golf,” Freddy suggested as they neared a door leading to the back staff area.

His tone was light and nonchalant, pointedly neglecting to mention the unspoken addition of “—and since you will be staying here, you will have all the time in the world to do so.”

The bear was getting ahead of himself again; how was he supposed to keep a human child in the Pizzaplex?

That was definitely a topic to dwell on later. For now, though, they continued through the faux-swap, keeping vigilant for any wayward gators that might be hiding in the foliage waiting to snap at them.

“You can stop by...”

Right. It was all going to end eventually, wouldn't it? There was the Pizzaplex, and there was reality. Sooner or later Gregory would have to come back to it all. His smile faltered thinking about it—how it'd inevitably end up with Gregory being punished for running away, and forbidden from ever visiting this place again. No real family to care about him other than being another government paycheck in their wallets...

To hide the sudden spike in anxiety, Gregory forced a smile and said: “Yeah! I-I mean, if I'm allowed...”

Even if he had to sneak out, Gregory would keep finding a way back. Just as soon as they made this a safer place to visit again—not just for himself, but for the other children, too. For the ones taken without explanation, never to return.

Freddy simply squeezed Gregory's hand in response. He hadn't meant to make the boy upset. Hopefully what they were about to find would bring that smile right back to his face!

“Here we are!” Freddy announced as they made it to the security office. Out of habit, they automatically locked down the doors upon entering the room—this one was the smallest so far, with barely enough space for the pair to fit due to the clutter of boxes and tons and tons of random toys.

“Ah... I forgot that this area is also used as a sort of Lost and Found,” Freddy explained, leaning over to examine one of the box's contents. “Well, it is more of a room to confiscate Faz Cameras—there is no flash photography allowed in Monty Golf, yet this is the only location that sells the cameras, so they get taken often.” He paused to frown, then shook his head and resumed searching. “It does not make much sense. However—”

With a bright grin, Freddy produced a novelty camera bearing his features and held it out to Gregory. “—now we also have this! Our eyes are very sensitive to the flash, so it might prove useful in evading the other animatronics.”

And there was another genuine smile as Gregory saw the camera as a new gift, too. The device was nice and sturdy and it doubled as a novelty flashbang. Not only could he practically blind the animatronics when needed, he’d get free pictures of them in the process! Usually those were $10 up front.

“That doesn't make sense—” Gregory agreed, grinning impishly at the weapon. “—but I won't question it because it's helping us out.” He turned around and took an experimental picture, mindfully facing the flash away from Freddy. When the Polaroid printed out and fell to the ground, an intrusive thought fleetingly sliced through his mind.

If tonight was Gregory’s last night on Earth—if Vanny or the robots killed him—a picture may be the only proof that he was there.

Freddy winced at the flash, still a little bright for him in the tiny space, but thankfully Gregory's forethought to turn the camera away saved him from the worst of it. His eyes reset as Gregory examined the Polaroid, and then Freddy shuffled past him to the cluttered security desk. He moved a few stacks of papers, trash, and confiscated toys before spotting the access pass holder.

“Excellent; here is the pass! Now we can return to—hmm?” The bear let out a confused exclamation as he took a good look at the ticket in his hand. It was not in fact a security access pass, but an entry ticket to... Mazercise? “What in the world—”

“Lookin' for somethin', Fazbear?” A loud, deep voice sounded from outside the room, followed by a roaring laugh.

“Hide!” Freddy hissed, automatically opening his stomach hatch for Gregory to hop into. As long as he didn't actually see Gregory, perhaps Monty would be a little less... feral. Maybe the animatronics could have two seconds of conversation before everything hit the fan.

Gregory had wanted to use the camera flash, but it looked like Freddy didn't enjoy the last picture he’d taken. So instead he was quick to jump into the safety of the surprise compartment, advising Freddy in a whisper: “Act mean! Like you're one of them!”

Who knew—maybe such a ruse would buy them some time. Gregory was afraid of Freddy getting into a fight with Monty. The bear would surely be scratched up by Monty's claws, and if the gator managed to pry Freddy open Gregory would only have the camera as his last means of defense...

Freddy's chest hatch closed him in complete darkness, and Gregory was alone and waiting as Monty banged at the magnetically locked doors.

“Montgomery Gator, stop that!” Freddy yelled, though he did take Gregory's words to heart and smack against the door in response. This action seemed to startle Monty, who paused his assault to peer in the window instead.

From what Freddy could see, Monty was messed up—far worse than Roxy, covered in dirt and grime and who knows what else. It really looked like the gator had been crawling around in the sewers, and one of the spokes of his prized star glasses had been chipped off. If nothing else, that was the biggest indication that Monty was too far gone.

Ever since Chica gifted him those glasses, Monty refused to take them off unless absolutely necessary, treating them with the reverent care of a prized possession. It was the first gift he'd been given by one of the Glamrock crew upon his initiation to the band, and it marked the first time he'd started to feel like more than just Bonnie's replacement.

But now they were dirty and broken, just like the rest of him.

“Freddy! I missed ya, big guy! Where've you been all night?!” Monty asked, his grin much too wide for the simple conversation they were having. At least it seemed that Gregory hid away just in time...

Monty's tone was friendly enough, Gregory decided. There was no need to fret while inside of his safe spot. As long as he spoke in a whisper, it was unlikely that Monty would hear him through Freddy’s chest and on the other side of the safety glass.

“T-tell him you've been looking for me. That you need the access pass to get to me...,” Gregory muttered, hoping Freddy could listen and take his advice without being too obvious.

“I have been looking for the child, just as you have,” Freddy replied, twisting Gregory's words to be his own. “I... believe he may be hidden in an area I cannot reach, so I was coming to find the higher access pass.”

He offered the gator what he hoped was an evil grin, though it was more of a pained grimace. Monty simply stared at him for a second before letting out a loud, barking laugh.

“You're a shit liar, Fredbear!” he exclaimed, and Freddy automatically gasped at the lack of profanity filter. Well, so much for that ruse...

Once Monty settled, he pulled down his glasses to glare through the window, tail swishing ominously back and forth. “Y'know what I think? I think you've been helpin' the little guppy... 's that true, Freddy?”

Freddy pursed his mouth tight, eyes narrowed as he tried to figure out how to answer. Clearly, Monty already knew he was doing just that—there was no point in lying. But the gator was impossible to figure out right now... the way he was talking didn't sound like himself. Not fully. It was just off enough that Freddy found it impossible to predict what he was thinking, let alone plotting.

Nope! No way. Monty was going to eat Gregory’s bones if they went out there. The kid sucked in a sharp breath, the memory of being thrashed around in complete darkness while Monty demolished the room around them still made him shake just thinking about it. The fact that Monty cursed at Freddy made Gregory believe that the real Fazbear bassist was long gone.

“Bad idea—bad idea!” Gregory muttered to himself worriedly.

Maybe he could try flashing the camera at him from inside the room? But that might just make Monty angry, and would also take Freddy out if the bear didn’t cover his eyes quick enough.

“Aw, man, they said you'd be difficult...” Monty gave a dramatic sigh when Freddy failed to respond to his question, then crossed his arms in front of him with a smirk. “You always act so sweet, but you're just as damn stubborn as the rest of us!”

“'They...?'“ Freddy echoed, his eyes narrowing. He took a hesitant step forward, still safe in the confines of the office but trying his best to appeal to the gator. “Monty, this is not you—you would never hurt a child!”

“But that's alright...” The gator continued, completely ignoring Freddy's plea. He let out a low, disturbing laugh, locking gazes with the bear. “I'm gonna get that kid first—I've got a plan. Unlike some stupid WOLF—” He snarled the word, jaw snapping in annoyance. His friendly, competitive nature with Roxy was amped up to dangerous levels by the virus. “—who chases things down and uses up all her energy, gators wait for their prey to come to them.”

His eyes widened excitedly behind his glasses, tail swishing every which way.

“If you want that access card, the kid's gotta come find me!” Monty instructed. “I was even nice enough to give y'all a hint—check the pass you do have.” Then he suddenly turned away, only to call over his shoulder: “See y'all real soon! HAHAHAHA!”

And with that he ran towards the main golf course, off to wait in ambush for Gregory's arrival.

***

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