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fivenightsatfreddysfanfiction · 1 month ago

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Will You Come To Talk To Me This Night?

The recurring dream drives Gregory to pull Sydney to the kitchen to talk it over, since it features the man's death and Gregory feels complicated emotions over what it could all mean. A few truths come to light over hot chocolate...

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The knock on the door was soft, a few taps, barely loud enough to break the silence of the night, and then Gregory pushed it open a little to look inside nervously. Thick comforters on the large bed moved and he watched Sydney push himself up sleepily, scanning the room’s entry points swiftly before his eyes fell on the boy in the doorway. Vanessa sat up a moment later, bleary-eyed as she rubbed her head through the messy mass of gold that was her hair in the soft lamp light Sydney switched on.

“Nightmare again?” she asked as Gregory looked between them both with a wince. He felt guilty for waking them up; he hadn’t wanted to, but the app on his phone didn’t really soothe his anxiety like he thought it would. Sydney’s heartbeat tracing steady pulses on the monitor just made him panic at the thought of it flatlining and he had to come see for himself, had to make sure the readings weren’t an illusion. He slipped into the room with hunched shoulders, lingering at the door while Sydney signed at Vanessa for her to go back to sleep and he got out of bed himself.

‘Old people clothes again.’ Gregory managed a tiny smile at the pale pink pajama set Sydney wore to sleep. He came forward when Vanessa gestured to him and climbed onto the bed to accept a hug from her.

“Enjoy your guy time, and then try to get some sleep after, okay?” she told him with that drowsy tone that meant she was trying to keep herself in a slow enough state that she could fall back asleep herself. She pressed a kiss to his forehead, then waved him off as she tucked herself back under the blankets. By the time he made it back to the door, Sydney was already waiting for him, a little more awake and his hairtie in hand. Pink flicked between his fingers as he gathered up his hair and bound it loosely in a lazier form of his usual ponytail.

The two of them left the master bedroom, heading for the kitchen for the mugs of hot chocolate that offered comfort day or night. “Sorry,” Gregory murmured guiltily, “the app didn’t help this time either.” The black band of the heart monitoring bracelet peeked from the cuff of Sydney’s sleeve, barely visible where it wrapped around the man’s wrist.

“Is okay,” Sydney mumbled behind a yawn, “Sometimes you can’t trust footage.” He shrugged and pushed open the kitchen door, letting them both in as he flipped on the light. “Same dream as before?”

“Yeah. I’m in a gold coffin with all those statues around me. It’s cramped and cold, and I have to wait a long time in the dark,” Gregory described as he climbed onto one of the stools and watched Sydney move around the kitchen to assemble the pot, milk and chocolate for their drinks. The pot of milk on the stove was heating up slowly, giving the man time to sit at the kitchen island with him. “And then I’m in a parking lot, and I can’t really see, but I can hear monsters,” Gregory went on quietly, gripping his hands together, “And somehow, I know they get you.”

“A monster gets me.. in a parking lot,” Sydney echoed thoughtfully, chin resting on his hands as he looked at Gregory in concern. “It sounds like how Alex said I died in my past life. Did that end up in some news article? You shouldn’t read about that kinda stuff without an adult supervising.”

“That actually happened?!” Gregory exclaimed in horror. Just thinking about a member of his family, these people he pulled together and rescued from the Pizzaplex, being hurt was bad enough but getting killed...

“Mhm,” Sydney replied with a nod, checking on the milk and breaking a few pieces of the chocolate disc into it to melt. He put the rest back in the glass jar he kept them stored in and set that in a cabinet up above the kitchen counters. Gregory pouted at the location; it was far too high even if he stood on the countertop. Sydney gave him a knowing look as he sat back down before resting his chin on his hands again, somber expression on his face. “I told you before, didn’t I? I was a really bad guy back then. Guess me getting killed in that parking lot was karma for trying to take that man in blue with me,” he replied and shrugged a little.

“The man in blue?” Gregory murmured and thought back to the argument between Alex and Mr. Fitzgerald about the night Sydney’s past self was killed, “You mean.. you wanted to take Mike Schmidt with you as another mercenary?”

Sydney sat up like he’d been jolted, eyes wide with surprise. “That name.. it sounds.. really familiar,” he remarked and narrowed his eyes as he looked into the distance with a faint frown. “I didn’t call him that. He was..,” he murmured and trailed off for a bit. “Pretty Bird,” he said slowly, like he was testing the words in his mouth.

Gregory felt a chill run down his spine, and he held very still as Sydney went to check on the pot of hot chocolate. Two mugs of the drink were poured out, marshmallows generously sprinkled on with chocolate shavings from another jar Sydney kept up high on a shelf. He set the mugs down on the kitchen island between them and Gregory reached out to take his, chasing the chill away with the fresh heat of chocolate.

“Guess that means I died at Freddy’s,” Sydney muttered with a faint frown, “Karma.”

“How.. bad were you? Really?” Gregory asked, mirroring his frown. For as long as he’d known the guy, when he wasn’t under the Pizzaplex’s control, Sydney was a really quiet and gentle kind of guy for being so big. If anything, he acted more like a mom than Vanessa did, did most of the cooking and cleaning and making sure everyone followed set schedules through the days, backed up Vanessa when she laid out household rules and enforced them, and treated Gregory like he actually had a brain. Case in point, actually talking with him while he still had that hang-up about wanting to be mute all the time to everyone else.

“From what I can remember and what Alex told me, I was someone who got power by taking people who were strong in different ways and talking them into doing what I wanted,” Sydney explained and looked thoughtful. “Hm, kind of like how the Pizzaplex network had control over Vanessa and me; I could do that to other people with my voice and words.” He gave Gregory a hard look, “That’s why I didn’t want to talk now, but you had to be stubborn about making me talk to you, Blue.”

“Yeah, cuz you loooove me,” Gregory taunted with a wide smile over his mug of hot chocolate, beaming as Sydney just laughed at him and ruffled his hair. They both went back to drinking their hot chocolate as Gregory turned the words over in his mind. Sydney called Mike ‘Blue’ in his mind all this time, and then said that he felt strong like that too and called him ‘Blue’. He frowned a bit uneasily, looking down at his own hand and flexing his fingers, opening and closing his hand.

“I’m Gregory Afton,” he said quietly, “an experiment in reviving Wiliam Afton.” His memories wiped, but slowly coming back in broken fragments and weird symbolic scenes. A mess of things that felt like they should make sense but made his head hurt to think about.

Sydney’s hand reached out to his, holding it gently as the strap of the heart monitor clicked against the FazWatch on his wrist. “You are Gregory Afton,” the man agreed softly, “a kid who deserves a loving family, a warm home, good food to eat, and a long life to live. Your past doesn’t define you; it’s a memory that can guide, but it is not all of who you are.”

“Then that’s the same for you,” Gregory pointed out to him with a determined frown, “Panther isn’t all of who you are now. You’re Sydney, the guy who likes to cook and makes me hot chocolate and is Vanessa's best friend and Alex’s big brother, and yeah you’re still kinda scared of Freddy but you’re getting better at not being scared every day. You’re getting stronger in that, so maybe someday you won’t be scared of your voice too.”

“Guess we both have something to look to so our pasts don’t take us over, huh?” Sydney remarked and sat back to sip at his hot chocolate, letting companionable silence fall over them again, warm and cozy in the kitchen.

Gregory held his mug between his hands, looking up at Sydney as the man went to check on the hot chocolate still left in the pot to make sure it didn’t burn. “Why couldn’t you have been like this back then?” The thought suddenly floated through his mind and he shook his head hard, confused. Why did that have a faintly bitter feeling to it? He rubbed at his cheek, frowning at the wetness on his fingers. Weird. He rubbed again to dry his face as the door to the kitchen opened again.

“Why are you two awake?” Alex asked and Gregory pulled his hand down to blink at seeing the other man standing there in a plaid nightshirt and sweatpants. Like Sydney had earlier, his hair was down, messily framing his face and Gregory squinted at the dissonance of his appearance.

“You look weird,” he said suddenly. Alex frowned at him and the dissonance cleared. “Oh, never mind, that fixed it,” Gregory declared in understanding, “I’m not used to seeing you not frowning.”

“How are you still a pain in the ass this early in the morning?” Alex asked with a huff, sitting at the kitchen island to peer at Sydney’s mug, “Wait, you made him our chocolate caliente?”

Sydney signed at him from the stove, pouring another mug of the thick drink and preparing it the way he did for Gregory and himself. Gregory hid his frown in his mug; right, with Alex around, Sydney wouldn’t talk anymore. So much for that.

“I didn’t bring my phone, damn it,” Alex complained under his breath, patting at his pockets.

“He said it’s for everyone,” Gregory told him with a roll of his eyes, “Like, family chocolate. Hey, if it’s for everyone, why do you have it so high up?” He pouted at Sydney’s raised eyebrow.

“So you don’t eat it all and leave none for the rest of us,” Alex replied, sticking his tongue out in response to the boy making a face at him. Sydney set the mug of hot chocolate down in front of him and Alex quickly dropped his taunting in favor of the treat, happily holding the mug in his hands while his brother took his seat again and went back to drinking his own cup. Once more silence fell over the kitchen before Alex broke it. “So I don’t think I got an answer to why you guys are awake,” he said in mild interest, licking chocolate from the corner of his mouth, “I got up to use the bathroom and heard talking and movement from the top of the stairs.”

Sydney winced and looked tense, almost panicky, so Gregory scrambled to cover for him. “I was telling Sydney about my nightmare and how weird it was,” he explained, “And he was making the hot chocolate during it so I had to repeat some parts in case he didn’t hear me.” He gestured with his mug to pull attention from Sydney’s posture, his own expression full of genuine frustration over the symbolism in his dream that he couldn’t figure out. “It’s the same stupid one that Vincent said he’d talk to, uh, the other party in the dream about for some extra info. Apparently he thinks it’s based on a memory cuz his Remnant was reading stuff back as real and not illusion.”

“Yeah?” Alex responded in mild interest, tilting his head as he sipped at his hot chocolate. “Based on a memory, huh? So you’re getting back memories that got lost before you ended up in the Pizzaplex?” he asked.

Gregory hummed, thinking it over. Was it a memory from before the Pizzaplex? It seemed like it, but Sydney said that the parking lot and the monster were from his past life, and Gregory didn’t find any information anywhere that described how Panther had died, just that he did. So how did he get that memory?

“It’s before the Pizzaplex, that’s for sure,” he said after a while. He looked into his mug, frowning as he turned the dream over in his head again. “But I think that’s a memory I’m okay with not getting all the way back,” he admitted. Not if it was about losing one of his family members. He clawed this family out of the clutches of the Pizzaplex, out of Afton’s cruelly uncaring grasp. He wasn’t going to let anything or anyone take a single member away from him.

“What is it with you guys not wanting to remember your pasts?” Alex sighed in exasperation, “Sydney doesn’t wanna go back to being his best and you’re fine with letting a stolen past stay stolen? I don’t get it at all!”

“If Sydney doesn’t think that was actually his best, then that’s up to him,” Gregory told him with a huff, “Oswald mentioned you had this thing about trying to stuff a Sydney-shaped peg into a Panther-shaped hole and I didn’t believe him until now. And you call me the pain in the ass?”

“We’re free to be who we were at our most powerful!” Alex declared, sitting up proudly on his stool, and Gregory glanced over at Sydney’s subtle wince, the other man raising fingers to his head in pain. “As Panther and Router, we had reach, we had influence, we had power and wealth and connections! We could do anything we wanted! Why wouldn’t Sydney want that back?!”

“Being Panther got him killed,” Gregory whispered harshly, “Why do you want him to die again like that, attacked by a monster in a parking lot? You’re his little brother; don’t you love him enough to want him to live?”

He could feel Alex’s stare as his own eyes burned with held back tears, glaring into his emptied mug. That dream had ended the same way every time, but the worst part of it was something he hadn’t shared with anyone, had forced Vincent out of his head before the dream guard could feel it.

The worst part of that dream’s end was the feeling of vindictive satisfaction at hearing the monster attacking Sydney in the darkness that swallowed the parking lot. Why did his memory have that in it? It was horrible; even if Sydney was as bad as he said he had been, nobody deserved to die like that. Not even that Afton lady, and she was crazy as hell and caused so much pain to everyone.

He pushed the mug away, sniffling as he couldn’t hold his tears back any longer. “I don’t want him to die,” Gregory whimpered, “He makes hot chocolate and he makes Vanessa happy and he’s actually doing better compared to his past. Why do you wanna take that away?” He pressed his hands to his face, trying to muffle his crying and hating the headache that came with it, a throbbing in his brain that felt like two views on the same thought warring with each other.

He was wrapped up in a hug and Gregory turned in place to bury himself in it, clinging tight to Sydney’s pajama shirt. He hadn’t even heard the man move, but that wasn’t surprising, the guy was quiet as hell. He felt himself get lifted from his stool and get settled back down on Sydney’s lap, his head tucked under Sydney’s chin, much like how he’d been held back in that apartment. Gregory lifted his face to peek out at the kitchen through the smear of tears and snot that made him feel icky and uncomfortable.

Alex sat at the kitchen island with them in a pensive silence, gazing into his mug of hot chocolate with a faint frown. There was a tension there, like he genuinely hadn’t thought of that outcome and was maybe reconsidering things. Gregory hoped so. His own headache was still throbbing but weakening as he internally shouted down that awful vindictive feeling from the dream, refusing to give ground to any idea that losing Sydney for any reason was okay.

Everyone who had died in the past had had their chance at life and spent it. Whether it was spent well or not, however it ended, it was over and they were gone and they should stay that way. The dead weren’t supposed to come back. Panther had his go and messed it up by being a dickhead and selfishly grabbing for what didn’t belong to him. Now it was Sydney’s turn and Gregory was going to start throwing fits if anyone tried taking that chance away from him. That wasn’t fair!

Sydney signed slowly, a bit awkward with how he was essentially enclosing Gregory with his arms. Gregory watched his hands, narrowing his eyes as he pieced together the shoddily signed message.

“My death.. guarantees.. your safety.. blue.”

He smacked at the offending hands a few times before going back to burying himself in the hug, scowling. Throwing fits would include Sydney himself if he did something like think that way. Gregory didn’t go through all the effort of pulling together this family of his just to have it all fall apart for the stupidest reasons.

He loved them all fiercely and damn anyone or anything that tried taking his loved ones away.

“How did you know,” Alex began at last, a strange tone to his voice as he looked up from the mug to Gregory, “that Panther died in a parking lot? That information got suppressed by Fazbear Entertainment so their business didn’t get hit.”

“Sydney said so,” Gregory replied, glaring at him as if to dare him to argue with him about it. Well, he got the idea of it from the memory-dream but Sydney confirmed it as a real memory as told to him by Alex. So really it was only Alex who would know the truth of it. Right?

Unless there was someone else there in that parking lot the night Panther died.

Alex squinted at him in suspicion before sitting back with a sigh. “Your eyes didn’t change,” he muttered, “I thought.. no, you wouldn’t be cuddling Sydney if you were. Still weird you’re doing that though.” Gregory stuck his tongue out at him and Alex chuffed in return, shaking his head. “Maybe you’re right,” he admitted slowly, “Maybe I should really see who I have in front of me and just.. be happy with who I have in my life now.” He looked up at Sydney with a small smile, an almost shy expression, like he was asking for forgiveness for whining for someone who wasn’t meant to come back.

Gregory squinted at him back before looking up, watching Sydney reach across the island to ruffle Alex’s hair. Apology accepted, he supposed. Personally, he would’ve made Alex do all the household chores for a week before forgiving him for being so stupid, but Sydney was too nice for his own good sometimes. He pointed at his eyes and then at Alex, just to let the guy know that he’d be watching to make sure he didn’t fuck up the second chance his brother gave him.

The door opened again and all eyes looked to the kitchen entrance to see Vanessa standing there, bleary-eyed and disheveled, slowly blinking at them through her bangs while she scratched at her side through her nightshirt. “Couldn’t stay ��sleep,” she mumbled. She padded towards them and Sydney slid his mug of hot chocolate towards her with a fond smile, watching her blindly reach for it and pick it up, drinking deeply from what remained of the hot chocolate.

“That’s how you spread cooties,” Gregory pointed out, narrowing his eyes as Sydney lightly thumped the top of his head with his fingertips.

“If cooties taste like this, Sydney can give ‘em to me anytime,” Vanessa declared with a content sigh and sleepy smile. Alex stared at her in alarm over his mug while Gregory narrowed his eyes further.

“Ew, mutually assured cooties,” he said flatly, thoroughly ignoring the second dose of thumps to his head. He’ll allow it for now, only because it felt good to have everyone gathered in the kitchen like this, drinking hot chocolate in comfort. Now if Freddy was awake and down here, it’d be perfect, but Gregory was fine with this too. He’ll take what he can get, no point being greedy.

Whatever that weird dream was trying to tell him would be a problem for future Gregory.

#fanfiction #fnaf au #parlourverse au #fnaf gregory #fnaf vanessa #sydney herrera #alex herrera #the herrera brothers #vr protagonists #afton-herrera household #bits and pieces

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fivenightsatfreddysfanfiction · 1 year ago

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From the Outside

The Afton-Herrera household as seen from the perspectives of a judgey teacher, nosy script writers, and gossipy kids looking for a podcast topic.

Time Set: Post-SB, Pre-Ruin

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Three hours in and Mrs. Feldman was ready to escape via the window rather than have to deal with another set of parents who would insist their kid was a perfect little angel and do nothing to help her resolve situations. Being a teacher was equal parts rewarding and demoralizing; some days there was more of one feeling over the other and she never knew what ratio she’d get until she got it.

Parent-Teacher Nights were her bane, but she was finally on the last appointment with her newest student and his guardians. If she could survive this, there’d be a nice chilled bottle of wine with her name on it back home. With a deep breath, she settled herself as best she could and then buzzed in the final appointment.

The door to her classroom opened after a few minutes, letting in the young woman she had met on enrollment day, Ms. Afton, of unfortunate relation to the founders of Afton Robotics which had recently been caught up in yet another short-lived scandal. Following her in was her sulking son, Gregory, the subject of tonight’s chat, and then following him in was someone Mrs. Feldman didn’t recognize, a young man with a tired look to him, like he’d just been pulled out of a long day at work to sit in on this meeting without a break in between. She could sympathize with that; maybe he was thinking of a drink at home for himself, too?

“It’s good to see you again, Mrs. Afton,” Mrs. Feldman greeted her warmly before glancing towards the man expectantly. She couldn’t remember now if she’d been told that the young woman was married. Afton was her maiden name, wasn’t it? Then did her husband take on her name instead? It wasn’t unheard of but this would be the first time she’d encounter such an odd take on family naming.

“Um, it’s Miss,” Miss Afton corrected sheepishly, her cheeks pink at the faux pax, “I’m not married.”

“Oh! I’m sorry for assuming so,” Mrs. Feldman quickly tried to backtrack embarrassedly, ignoring the little snort from Gregory. She glanced at the unknown man again in time to catch him mid-eyeroll. A flicker of annoyance shot through her mind before she reminded herself that this was Miss Afton’s first Parent-Teacher meeting so of course more of the family would show up rather than be present at Gregory’s enrollment. But an introduction would be nice, so why wasn’t he speaking up? “Then this must be-?” she asked leadingly. Boyfriend? Fiancé? ...Flavor of the week?

“This is Sydney Herrera, my best friend!” Miss Afton introduced brightly, smiling over at the silent man staring at Mrs. Feldman. The teacher twitched just a little, a tiny bit. Why was he staring? What was wrong with him? “We co-parent so I thought it’d be fine to bring him along,” Miss Afton went on without a care in the world.

“Coulda brought Freddy, instead,” Gregory muttered grumpily. Neither his mother or the ‘other parent’ reacted to his words.

Mrs. Feldman could feel her stress levels rising. Maybe this was going to be worse than those in-denial parents after all?

“This is my first Parent-Teacher meeting, so I went looking online for some guidelines on how these are supposed to go,” Miss Afton added, digging through her purse before pulling out a small binder with several pages stuck inside, a label slapped on the cover reading ‘Manual for Parent-Teacher Nights’. She opened it and flipped through some of the papers while Mr. Herrera gave her an exasperated look and then shared it with Gregory, the boy just raising an eyebrow at him and folding his arms over his chest. “According to the manual, we go over his grade progress, social progress, discuss any problems with regards to class behaviors and/or schoolwork, then map out solutions to resolve said problems and generate a follow-up meeting to evaluate post-solution status,” Miss Afton declared in a proud tone.

Yes, stress levels would certainly rise with this one. Pretty face, empty head; no wonder this Mr. Herrera was latched to her. Friend-zoning probably wasn’t a problem for him, Mrs. Feldman thought sourly.

Well, she still had a job to do, and she’d do it to the best of her ability. Not her fault Miss Afton was clearly in over her head at parenting. But with how old Gregory appeared to be and how young Miss Afton looked, it was clear that there was a lot Miss Afton didn’t know about the world and people in general. Tragic.

“Alright, so in terms of grades and schoolwork, Gregory does hold a relatively average score for reading, writing, and history,” Mrs. Feldman began, looking over her notes and examples of the boy’s work while Miss Afton listened attentively. “His scores for math and science are above average, so he does have strengths and interest in some subjects. It’s just that he seems to.. let his mind wander often. As if he can’t keep his attention on anything that isn’t of interest to him.”

“Is that a problem?” Miss Afton asked and she sighed at the question. Typical clueless mother type. “He does his work and his grades aren’t failing, right? I mean they could be better and I’ll talk with him about that but him zoning out between tasks…”

“I wouldn’t be tuned out if she let me draw while she’s talking,” Gregory piped up with a petulant shrug, “Drawing lets me get stuff in my head out so I can focus on this world.”

That was the same excuse he gave her for making those strange doodles about the defunct pizzeria and creepy robot animals. Mrs. Feldman expected the same frustration about it from Miss Afton, but the young woman just gave her son a sympathetic look. Great, so she’s why Gregory behaved in such a manner.

“What you draw might confuse people, Gregory,” Miss Afton told him, “But if you need to do something with your hands, we can ask Mr. Woods if he has a spare fidget cube you can have.”

“Cassie is okay with my comics,” Gregory countered with a huff, “She thinks it’s kind of weird but she’s not confused by it.” He paused for a moment, then sighed, “But fine, we can ask Mr. Woods about it. At least Alex won’t flip his shit if it’s just Mr. Woods we talk to.”

“That’s something else I’d like to speak to you about,” Mrs. Feldman brought up, shaking her head at Gregory’s crudeness, “Gregory’s language is not acceptable. He uses a lot of swear words and vulgarities. Such rude language isn’t tolerated in this classroom or this school.”

“That tends to be normal for Gregory,” Miss Afton sighed in exasperation and looked to her son, “Could you tone it down for school at least?” Gregory made a face at her. Mrs. Feldman was not impressed with the display.

“It would probably be better if we knew where he was learning such language and removed that bad influence,” she suggested to Miss Afton. Clearly the young woman was too innocent to have taught her son these behaviors so the only influence that could be responsible was…. Mrs. Feldman snuck another look at Mr. Herrera who only looked back at her with a deadpan expression. Still unresponsive to everything? Probably didn’t even think he had any responsibility for a kid that wasn’t his. “Do you have anything to say about this, Mr. Herrera?” she asked him crisply.

The man just raised an eyebrow at her before lifting a hand, held it flat like he was about to do a salute, then slashed it sharply under his chin. That looked threatening. Was he threatening her?! Alarm rang in her mind as Miss Afton turned her attention back.

“Oh! Sydney uses sign language to communicate, I keep forgetting to let people know that,” Miss Afton said with a sheepish laugh, “I’m too used to being able to understand him. Do you know sign language? Or can at least understand it? That would make it easier to speak with him directly. But I can translate for you!”

Oh. Oh dear. Mrs. Feldman felt her face heat up from stress and embarrassment. Had Mr. Herrera been staring at her to read her lips? How was she to know the man was deaf?! If people expect her to do her job right, they should tell her these things before she makes a fool of herself!

The man was making gestures at Miss Afton and the young woman was glancing between his hands and his face. Maybe she should have taken some classes on alternative languages, then she’d be able to understand some of what was being discussed in front of her. This felt awkward and a little rude, especially since Miss Afton’s open expression quickly became a faint scowl that was directed at her.

“Did you imply that Gregory swearing was Sydney’s fault?” she demanded and Mrs. Feldman shook her head.

“No, I simply wanted his input on this meeting,” she recovered smoothly, “Since he hasn’t said anything the whole meeting, I assumed he wasn’t as invested in Gregory’s upbringing and education as we are.”

“You assume a lot on very little,” Miss Afton said in a colder tone. She looked a lot less like the bubble-headed woman she first walked in as, and Mrs. Feldman swallowed a little.

The young woman reached into her purse again and pulled out another book, a copy of the school’s manual and regulations. She sat back in her chair and flipped through it idly. “Gregory drawing during your lessons is an accomodation, not a disruption, as outlined in section 3, paragraph 2,” Miss Afton began in a flat and toneless voice, her expression empty of the earlier cheer and brightness, “The lack of documentation in his record for this accomodation was an oversight that will be corrected. You’ll just have to deal with it. Gregory can try to curb his language use but there’s no guarantee he can stop entirely. At best, he’ll just make sure you’re not around to hear it and you can simply not be in places where he will be if you’re not necessary to be there.” She smiled, thin and sharp, “That way you can have plausible deniability within the guidelines of the school manual.” She made a small motion with her free hand in Mr. Herrera’s direction. “I’ll overlook your perceptions of Sydney but I can’t say the same for him. After all, your behavior was clearly a violation of section 1, paragraph 1 of this same manual as well as the official charter for the school. He’s within his rights to bring the matter to the attention of your immediate supervisor.”

That would be bad. She wouldn’t be let go, but she’d have a stain on her reputation in the school. Mrs. Feldman swallowed again, thinking of the looks she would get if that happened because she’d lost control of this meeting. How did this happen?! One minute she had everything well in hand and now it felt like she was facing some sort of corporate overlord throwing down hammers of legalese at her!

Mr. Herrera made a few more gestures that Miss Afton glanced over, her fingers twirling her hair idly, like she hadn’t a care in the world. Gregory just looked bored, but then it wasn’t his butt over the fire, was it? Mrs. Feldman looked between them all, holding herself stiffly. Was she about to get blackmailed? Was that it? Over something they just assumed she was thinking?!

“Hm,” Miss Afton hummed in interest before looking back towards Mrs. Feldman, “Sydney is willing to let things slide if you don’t look too hard at what Gregory does.” Her smile stayed in place but everything felt much scarier, darker, like Mrs. Feldman had stumbled into something she should not have. Could she call the police about this? And say what? “He’s just being a kid, drawing to help him keep his focus, and sure he says a few bad words but I’m sure these kids have heard worse on the internet. As long as he’s not using those words to hurt others, and dials it back in front of authority figures to blend in, it should be fine. Nothing against the manual.” Miss Afton waved the book tauntingly at her. “And maybe you should dial it back on being so judgmental. You’re here to teach kids and support them in education and socializing, not try to control how they behave to conform to your idea of how kids should be. Are we clear?”

Mrs. Feldman pursed her mouth tightly. No threats or anything she could take to the police, and if she tried to claim intimidation, the words were just about Gregory, and the only thing about her directly was that accusation. And if she admitted to that to anyone, she’d just as good as tarnish her reputation herself.

She was stuck, and from the looks of the matching smiles on Miss Afton and Mr. Herrera’s faces they were fully aware of it. She scowled and sat back in her chair. “I suppose we’re in agreement over Gregory’s accommodations moving forward, then,” she said, busying herself with straightening the papers on her desk. “That’ll be all for this meeting, thank you.”

“Pleasure working things out with you!” Miss Afton replied, returning to that bright and cheery tone she had when Mrs. Feldman first saw her as a silly blonde girl too naive to get a grip on her boy. How easily she fell for that front. Shameful!

“I told you she was out to get me,” Gregory chimed in with a roll of his eyes, as if he was the one who’d been suffering all this time. Miss Afton just sighed as she, Mr. Herrera, and Gregory all stood up to leave.

“Not everyone is out to get you,” she retorted and narrowed her eyes when the boy just raised a splayed hand, “That doesn’t count!”

“Therapy says it does.”

“Vincent also said you need a different therapist, so ha!”

The dysfunctional little family finally went out the door, leaving Mrs. Feldman in peace at last. She let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding and finally relaxed. Frustrating as it was, she was probably better off just letting this slide for her own sake. Those two were still related to Afton Robotics, even if they didn’t seem interested in following the family business. A big enough donation from that company to the school with conditions tacked on could put undue stress on her nerves.

Perhaps she could retire soon and take a well-deserved vacation come summer? Yes, that seemed like a far more lovely idea.

-----------------------------

There weren’t many places where Therese and Enrique could sit for as long as they liked, watching people come and go, and muse to themselves about what kinds of lives they live. They’d done it through high school and college as a way to amuse themselves and come up with stories for their respective work interests, and now that they both had steady jobs in those fields it became a way of staying sharp. And it was just fun to do for the two friends.

“Ooh, I got held up in traffic on the way, what’d I miss? Anything delicious in the tea today?” Enrique gushed as he slid into the bench in Therese’s booth, a plate of vegan pizza and a salad on his tray. Therese slid the extra apple soda she bought in his direction as she glanced over the dining area to be sure everyone else was still in their places.

“There’s a family over there looking like they’re trying to put on a front for a mother-in-law, but they give each other death glares whenever she’s not looking. Maybe a plot to bump MIL off for inheritance money?” she began with a sly little smile. Enrique looked over at the family with a pout, slice of pizza in hand.

“Mm, kind of generic, expected even, not enough drama and pizzazz,” he remarked, “Let them cook a bit more. See if we can get something juicy. What else?” He bit into the pizza with a happy hum as Therese looked for the next scene.

“See that guy sitting in a booth by himself? Comes in, orders a personal pizza and a salad, then sits like the salad is for someone else he’s expecting to join him, but no one ever comes,” she pointed out subtly, “I’m thinking someone in denial that their lover is lost, never to join them for a meal again. Or someone who doesn’t believe they keep getting stood up for a date.”

“Ooh, that’s a little more like it~! Dash of romance, dash of tragedy,” Enrique sighed and fluttered his eyes, “Maybe one day, a cute someone slides into that seat at lasts and eats the salad with him?”

“You can have that one,” Therese offered with a flip of her hand, “Theatre scripts do better with more drama than that, but it seems right up your alley for a rom-com script.” She scanned the dining area as she took a sip of her diet soda, looking for other potential scene-setters. A flash of bright red caught her attention and her eyes zeroed in on the pizzeria’s owner/manager moving towards the front of the restaurant with Circus Baby at her side to greet a small group that just entered.

That was rare, to be personally greeted by the owner rather than the front of house staff, and with the star of the animatronic band, too. Therese glanced over the people that warranted such a greeting and her eyebrows rose. “Hey, that guy’s back!” she whispered excitedly to Enrique, flapping her hand to get his attention before he dove into his salad, “The one you totally had a crush on but then he, like, vanished for a couple years or something?”

“He didn’t ‘vanish’, he just got a job over at the Mega Pizzaplex before some sinkhole tore the place practically in half,” Enrique sighed with a roll of his eyes, face flushing at the reminder, “And it’s not a crush! I just wanted to know where he works out so I can get a membership there, too.”

“So how come you never asked when he worked here?” Therese asked him flatly, folding her arms over her chest.

“Cuz he gave me sleeper agent, retired assassin vibes!” Enrique protested, face still burning red and eyes bright with excitement, “What if me talking to him broke the vibe? How’d I live with myself if I ruined my best muse? You know how many good scripts I got out of just watching him work here? And I got a bonus from the script I wrote up when I saw him at the Pizzaplex!”

Therese knew about a couple of those scripts; she had traded a few romance concepts based on the co-owners of the pizzeria for some of those secret agent and assassin scripts. A little bit of a rewrite and they worked well for fantasy medieval dramas. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. “Yeah, well, apparently he’s back and he’s with that blonde guard from the Pizzaplex,” she pointed out and the two of them watched the young couple greet the pizzeria owner and Circus Baby. “She’s kinda pretty, in that ‘I don’t know what to do with my life’ kind of way,” Therese added.

“He’s got a different vibe,” Enrique muttered, squinting at the only man in the group of women. He blinked when the subject of his observation made gestures with his hands, the blonde watching him, then speaking to the others. “Huh, so he went from being careful with how he talked to people to just full on not speaking at all. Did something happen while he was working over at the Pizzaplex?” He grinned, “Hey, notice how close he is to his former work buddy there? Think they were more than just co-workers?”

“I dunno, they could just be friends like us,” Therese pointed out, stealing a slice of Enrique’s pizza and picking off the bell peppers.

“I’m gay, what’s his excuse?” Enrique huffed, jerking a thumb at himself. He fished a notepad and pen from his satchel, clicking once and scribbling on a fresh sheet. “Maybe they were investigating shady business practices in the Pizzaplex and grew closer under the pressure to discover what was going on, then something traumatic happens, maybe his newly beloved is threatened with harm, and the fear is so deep that he’s silenced to spare her life!”

“Hm, not exactly your usual rom-com,” Therese told him between bites of pizza. Enrique pulled his plate away from her with a scowl. “Also a little vague, you need to fill in more plot.” She looked back up, watching as Circus Baby excused herself and walked away, probably to get ready for the stage. It was almost time for the scheduled show.

The pizzeria owner started leading the young couple into the dining area and Therese and Enrique turned to their food, trying to listen without looking like they were listening in.

“So that’s the basics of how to start up a pizzeria. Didn’t think I’d be helping out new competition today when I woke up but you’re family and friends, after all,” the owner remarked, gesturing towards a nearby dining table. “Here, have a seat. At least let me treat you to lunch before you head back home.”

“Thanks, Meera. Hopefully our pizzeria will be successful enough that Sydney here won’t run off again,” the blonde woman replied gratefully before giving the man beside her a sly smirk, “He knows what’ll happen if he ditches us again.” Sydney just made a face and she laughed, bumping his arm with her shoulder.

“They’re totally boning,” Enrique whispered to Therese, smug grin on his face.

“Alex will be on break soon, so he can join you guys. Tío Lucian can handle security during the performance for a while,” the pizzeria owner, Meera, told the young couple, “I gotta get back to work but it’s really good to see you both again, without all the fighting. You’ve got a surprisingly good roundhouse kick! We should spar sometime!” Sydney’s expression grew wary and the auburn-haired woman laughed. “Relax! I’m asking Vanessa for a friendly spar, this isn’t me flirting. But I can totally flirt if you’re into that, ‘Nessa~.” She and the blonde laughed, playing it off as teasing while Sydney just rolled his eyes with a grin of fond exasperation.

“Your eyes are doing that sparkle thing again. Stop smiling so big, you’re gonna give us away!” Therese hissed under her breath, flicking the green peppers towards Enrique. Her friend was practically vibrating in his seat, pen scribbling furiously over his pad. He might have been going gaga over a fellow gay shooting her shot, but Therese was more interested in the supposed ‘fight’ the three of them had been in.

Did they throw hands somewhere? What for? What caused them to become friendly after the fact? Enemies to friends was a good trope for a lot of scripts, plenty of material there, and yes, a little romance there would be good to bring in the dating couples to the theatre.

Eventually, the pizzeria owner moved on and the day shift guard for the pizzeria came over to sit at the booth. Therese and Enrique squabbled a bit over the bowl of salad to keep up their cover of not-listening. Now that both men were at the table, it was easy to recognize the day guard as related to Sydney.

“Oh, that’s right. His little brother hung out here while he was working the day shift. Must’ve taken over the job when Sydney left to work at the Pizzaplex,” Enrique remarked with raised eyebrows. “Wonder if this place is hiring them as extra staff?”

“Sounds more like that Vanessa lady is opening her own pizzeria and Sydney’s working for her there. Ooh, brothers in competition! This should give some good material,” Therese murmured happily, taking her own notes on her phone.

“How are your ribs? Finally healed up?” the day guard asked his brother. Therese and Enrique listened attentively, curiosity ramped up by the questions. The guard was holding his phone up, angled to point the camera at Sydney’s hands as the older man gestured with them. “That’s good. You’re lucky you only got a little roughed up by that guy. My background check turned up some info on that client,” the guard, Alex as the pizzeria owner said, explained in a lowered voice, “He’s apparently an admirer of your past self. You showing up as Pantera was practically his idea of a gift from on high for his collection.”

Sydney just face-palmed while Vanessa scowled, cheeks puffing indignantly. “He can’t have him! I hold Sydney’s contract, so I’ve got legal on my side!” she huffed. The three fell into silence as a waiter came by and delivered a large pizza and drinks for them.

“Just saying,” Alex picked up the conversation once the waiter was gone, “if you go back out again as Pantera, steer clear of that guy. I doubt he’ll just give up on you now that he’s convinced himself you’re somehow a descendent of yourself. Those eyes of yours are too unique to not have been ‘inherited’.” The brothers cringed at his words while Vanessa just pinched the bridge of her nose.

“This reminds me of how Afton thought my body would be perfect for Emelia just because I have green eyes like her,” she growled, “It’s stupid. These are our lives! Our identities!”

“Welcome to the paranormal dumbfuckery club,” Alex quipped, uncapping his bottle of soda, “Where our eyes get us into trouble and our souls are the ball in a decades-long game of keep-away from some dipshit who couldn’t handle competition in business. Sydney, stop looking guilty; you didn’t start this shit, you got taken advantage of just like the rest of us.”

Therese and Enrique stared at one another with wide eyes. Whatever was going on with those three, there was just so much juicy gossip, even if stuff didn’t make any sense. Something like this would make for a great thriller, an action movie script maybe, something with suspense and intrigue. Change some names and ages around, fill in the blanks and smooth out the stuff that doesn’t make sense, this could be another good pitch.

“This one would be good for a summer action flick,” Enrique muttered, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as he tapped his pen against his pad.

“I dunno, this almost feels too bizarre to be real,” Therese murmured, squinting at the notes on her phone. “Are we being fed bullshit?”

“If it is bullshit, it’s still nourishment for the garden of plot ideas,” her friend countered, scribbling down another idea. “Could do with a role reversal, woman rushing to rescue her kidnapped man from some mafia boss with a thing for mysterious idols. Is that too tacky?”

“We got a lot of good advice and tips from Meera on opening and running a pizzeria, so we should be set on that front,” Vanessa said brightly, clapping her hands together, “No one’s going to be running off to do mercenary work any time soon, got it?”

“I didn’t even get to do anything!” Alex complained while Sydney just flashed a thumb’s up while grabbing a slice of pizza for himself. “All I’ve done so far is just secure our networks here at the pizzeria and at home so it’ll be harder for us to get tracked. Hacking the Pizzaplex network was the closest I got to my old work, and even then the asshole got further in that than I did!”

“Well, now you’ll get to secure the network for our pizzeria, too,” Vanessa told him and looked down at the pizza. “Uh, what kind of pizza is this? Looks like something we served at El Chip’s.”

“Taco pizza. It’s one of the asshole’s ideas for a signature dish,” Alex sighed, pulling a slice out to eat, “Don’t tell him, but it actually does taste good. I just don’t wanna give him the satisfaction of knowing I said that.”

“Bored now,” Enrique mumbled around his straw as he took another drink of his soda. Therese nodded in agreement, tapping out some more notes about a potential script idea with a jealous king and a clever knight and a princess caught in a trap. “I got a lot of great material to work with though. You?”

“I think I’ve got enough to create a full schedule of shows. Same time next week?” Therese asked as she got up and flicked through her wallet to leave a tip. Music began drifting from the stage as the curtain rose, Circus Baby stepping out in a strut to the beat. “She’s circus themed but I swear some joker programmed her to perform like a flamenco dancer,” she remarked with a squint at the animatronic swirling on stage with rapid steps and taps.

“Not like the kids watching her would know the difference. Yeah, same time next week,” Enrique replied and walked off cheerfully, “I’ll pick up the tip next time! Get that bag, girl!”

Therese gave the group at the nearby booth one last glance before shouldering her bag and heading out. Whatever was going on with them sounded pretty bizarre for such a normal-looking bunch, but it wasn’t her problem anyway. People watching today brought in a rich bounty of script ideas. Maybe she should keep an eye out for when this new pizzeria would open and add that to the list of places she and Enrique hit up for ideas. Wouldn’t do to let a fountain of inspiration disappear on them again.

--------------------------------------

“Huh, that the new kid over there?” Toby asked over his lunch of burger and fries, blinking at a pair of figures sitting at a table near the cafeteria exit. His companions turned to look as well before returning to their own food.

“That Gregory guy? He’s been here a couple weeks already so not that new,” Christine replied flippantly, swinging her legs as she dipped her fries into her cup of ice cream to eat. “Kinda cute in that ‘I can fix him’ sort of way. Cassie hangs out with him and I heard from Millie who heard from Bobby who overheard them talking about the Pizzaplex one time that that’s where they met so him saying he just moved here last month is a total lie.”

“Why would he lie about when he moved here? This place is the most boring town in the world. Like nothing happens here,” Frank complained, eyeing her fries with disgust.

“What about all those people that kept disappearing from their houses or the Pizzaplex or that one game studio or a whole pizzeria just up and vanishing overnight?” Toby pointed out dryly.

“Conspiracies! No way can so many people just vanish and nobody does anything about it or looks into what caused it!” Frank shot back and folded his arms over his chest, wrinkling his immaculately pressed shirt. Toby and Christine shared a look over their milk cartons; it would just be a matter of time before he complained about that too. “Anyway, what if he’s under witness protection and had to lie about when he moved here to protect himself?”

“His name is Gregory Afton,” Christine replied sarcastically, “If that’s the name he gets under witness protection, they might as well pin a bull’s-eye to his back before letting him get on the bus.” She rolled her eyes and looked back over at Cassie rubbing Gregory’s back as the boy pressed his hands to his eyes and forehead. “Every time I see that guy, he always looks like he’s in pain. I hope he has medicine with the nurse for it,” she added with a concerned look.

“If his last name’s Afton, is he related to the company that made the animatronics for the Pizzaplex?” Toby mused aloud, “Maybe he knows when that place will reopen?” The other two kids shrugged, and he pouted. “You guys suck. That place was awesome and then it closed down and got swarmed by cops, and then an earthquake wrecks it more.”

“God, if you want pizza and animatronic entertainment so bad, just go to Circus Baby’s,” Christine told him in annoyance, “The food actually tastes like the cooks give a crap and Circus Baby takes song requests if she’s in a good mood.”

“She never takes any of my requests,” Frank grumbled as he looked down at his wrinkled shirt in distaste and Christine rolled her eyes again.

“No duh. You keep asking for anime songs from a clown performer,” she replied dryly, “She looked like she was five seconds away from kicking you in the head and I would have cheered her on. Listen to Hatsune Miku on your phone; don’t traumatize the robot.”

Chairs scraping the floor pulled their attention back to Cassie and Gregory, and the three of them watched as they left their trays on the table. Gregory had one arm slung across Cassie’s shoulders, the girl helping him stay upright as he clutched at his head with a grimace. Side by side, they shuffled through the exit, slipping out of the cafeteria and probably heading for the nurse’s office.

“Y’know, he showed up here after the Pizzaplex closed and got hit with the cops. Think he had something to do with that?” Toby questioned thoughtfully.

“He’s a kid like us,” Christine told him flatly and pointed her dipped fries at Frank, “Don’t start sounding like him.”

“What if he’s actually a robot who ran away from the Pizzaplex?” Frank whispered in dawning horror, eyes wide and distant. Christine looked at him in disgust before shooting Toby a glare.

“You set him off again!”

“Sorry. But at least we’ll have something for our podcast after school?”

“It’s going to sound so dumb. If we go on the internet and say Gregory’s a secret Afton robot, we’re gonna lose so many listeners. Who would actually believe that?!”

Toby shrugged at her deadpan expression, a mischievous grin on his face, “It’s just a theory.”

#fnaf fanfiction #fnaf gregory #fnaf vanessa #sydney herrera #alex herrera #herrera brothers #fnaf cassie #parlourverse au #fnaf au

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