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angelofrainfrogs · 4 months

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Into the Pit: Ch. 2

~Coauthored by @zeitghest~

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

Description: He should be in the Daycare.

Gregory emerges from the ball pit to find not the bright, rainbow room he’s accustomed to, but a house with a huge backyard and a kiddie pool of plastic “water.” Calling for Gregory is a familiar voice—Michael. Only this time it’s not Charlie or Freddy by his side, but someone completely new. And why do they insist on calling him their son?

Gregory soon comes to realize this existence is vastly different from anything he remembers. Perhaps these last few weeks at the Pizzaplex have all been a dream…?

Rating: T

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“No, he isn’t,” Michael said, still in that quiet, measured voice. One hand rubbed mindless patterns on Gregory’s back, giving him something to focus on besides the terrible images his brain was twisting William’s masked appearance into.

“You love Bonnie, remember?” Mike reminded gently. It was true—Freddy was the clear favorite, but Bonnie undoubtedly had a special place in Gregory’s heart, too. “And anyway, you know that’s not really Bonnie. It’s just your troublesome granddad…”

He trailed off with a purse of his lips. William was wonderful with Gregory for the most part, but damn did Michael wish the stubborn man listened to him sometimes.

“William adores you, Greg, and he’d never do anything to hurt you.” There was a pause as Michael seemed to consider something.

What had the therapist said? Sometimes Gregory might be afraid of things that seem irrational, and the fear might pop up suddenly. The best thing to do in that situation was to assure him there were people around to protect him and let him come out of it on his own time. Michael certainly experienced a similar thing with Evan growing up… just another way his brother and his son were connected besides their coincidental looks.

“I’m not moving until you’re ready for me to,” Michael assured, still keeping up that steady pattern tracing with his fingertips. It was a silent way to say: I’m here. I love you. You’re not alone anymore. “Take all the time you need."

Gregory wasn't letting go of Michael. For the time being, the guy was all that he could trust—

But how could he say all those things? It contradicted everything Gregory thought he knew about... well, everything.

Gregory managed to sniffle, holding in his fear and swallowing it long enough to see the room that Michael had taken him into. They were sat on a soft rug that looked like it’d been plucked straight from a 90's arcade—a deep blue background with many little neon shapes and blacklight designs. A loft bed loomed over them with a kid-sized desk and impressive desktop computer facing them. From what he could see, many posters from the Pizzaplex were hanging in frames along the walls, perfectly filling empty spaces of the striped wallpaper. For now, Gregory would ground himself on Michael's words and his surroundings alone; combined, they were enough to get his bearings.

Was this really his life?

Could he even trust Michael anymore…?

When Gregory pulled away just slightly to look Mike in the eyes, everything inside told him that he could. The worried way Michael glanced at him was the same look he had inside the Daycare before he entered that damn ball pit.

“...Dad?” Gregory tried experimentally. In the apparent absence of Freddy, that's who Mike was to him now in this weird maybe-dream-world, right? His father.

He'd have to calm down; pretend as if he knew everything that was going on and soak in this new perspective. It might be the only way to survive until he got a legitimate handle on things.

“I-I'm really sorry... I don't know what came over me,” Gregory apologized, recognizing his fears were irrational, even if they didn't feel like it. If Michael didn't hate William—if William was a good person—then Gregory wasn't sure if he could believe his own instincts anymore.

The kid wasn't even aware that there'd been a good eight minutes where he simply said nothing and clung to his dad's shirt. Sometimes that's all he needed; time to figure it out in his head. Even now he was left flailing inside his own mind, trying to come to terms with what his life was. It wasn't nearly as bad as he was making it seem, surely. Yet it was certainly different; uprooting.

“Hey, what’ve we talked about? No apologizing for that sort of thing, alright?” Finally, Michael’s face softened into a slightly less concerned expression. He gave Gregory a squeeze, a tiny smile lifting up the corner of his mouth. “It’s fine for you to be afraid of things, even if they might seem ridiculous. As long as you know that you’re safe and that your dad and I are here for you at the end of the day, that’s all that matters.” He chuckled with a roll of his eyes. “And your grandpa too, despite his eccentricities.”

Michael would need to have a serious talk with William about not sneaking up behind Gregory like that… if Jeremy hadn’t already taken up the task, of course. Running his fingers through Gregory’s hair, he had to ask: “Is there anything you want to talk about? It’s fine if not, but if there’s something I can ease your mind on, I’d like to try.”

Mike and Jer tried to be relatively open books with Gregory, in the hopes that someday he’d understand that he really could tell them anything—good or bad.

Gregory looked at him with scrunched eyebrows. Michael was right on some level; blaming himself for the reactions everyone was pulling from him wasn't going to help. He thought hard about how he wanted to phrase everything, trying to search for some truth in the fog of this place—to deduce if he was truly awake or dreaming right then.

“...I think I had the most realistic dream of my entire life. And it freaked me out so bad I, like—forgot what real life is for a minute?” Gregory said slowly, unsure in himself. Was that a thing? Where people couldn't tell what was real or not because of the vividness of their dreams? “I was trapped with you and Charlie in the Pizzaplex—but you guys were ghosts inside of robots? Th-Then Freddy adopted me and—and Will—no, Pappy, I guess? That's weird... He was trying to put this glowy stuff in me with a syringe and make me live forever...”

The more Gregory talked about it, the more ridiculous it sounded. A child's terrified flight of fancy rather than something rooted in reality. In his messed-up mind, was Freddy a replacement for his parents? Was William truly a good family man?

There was warmth under his fingertips, and he’d heard the distinctive beating of a heart as he rested on Michael’s chest. Was everyone still alive?

Gregory’s eyes snapped back up to Michael. “It was so real! Everyone was there, too!”

For a moment, Mike simply listened to Gregory’s rant with an attentive look. He did a pretty good job keeping his expression measured, though it was a wonder he didn’t chip a tooth with how hard his jaw was clenched.

This was… a lot. Gregory certainly had a vivid imagination, but Michael didn’t realize it was this good. To have a dream so lucid one was convinced reality was the false world? He’d heard of that happening before, but never did he think Gregory would experience such a thing.

“…Wow,” he remarked after a moment of processing, blinking down at his son a few times before smiling again. “That sounds like quite an adventure! No wonder you’re so on edge today.”

Especially if he thought he’d been adopted by a robot bear, his family was dead, and his dear old grandad was going to inject him with immortal juice…

“I can assure you, though—” Michael went on, a playful glint in his eye even though his words were sincere. “I am one hundred boring flesh and blood. So’s Charlie—no freaky human robots or ghosts to be found. And like I said, Pappy wouldn’t lay a finger on you. Besides—” A dark little grin curled up the corner of Michael’s mouth, reminding Gregory of the unflappable determination to protect his family lurking just underneath the surface. “—Father knows I’d take him down in a heartbeat if he even thought of harming a hair on your head.”

Said brown hair was ruffled to an unruly degree as if to demonstrate this fact. When the boys settled again, Michael met Gregory’s gaze with one of complete understanding and acceptance. “Thanks for telling me all this, Gregory. Are you feeling any better now?”

He didn't feel great, but talking about it did help. Gregory rubbed his face before answering, finding Michael's retort a little funny as the first hint of a smile reached his lips.

“Yeah... I don't know what made me think any of that was real.” He spoke as if he didn't quite want to admit it. He sniffed, clearing his nose a little as his breathing returned to normal, leaning his head into his dad’s hand with a sigh. The power of dreams, he supposed. Of his own accord, Gregory gave Michael a proper hug, thanking him. “I'm glad you're easy to talk to... Dad.”

He found it hard not to call him Michael for some odd reason. Gregory stood, ready to go back and face down the man he was so convinced was a monster hell-bent on capturing him, and the stranger who also called himself “Dad.” He trusted Michael's word above anything, and was sure that he could trust anyone Mike trusted, too.

The moniker was a little forced, but that was alright. Perhaps Michael wasn’t Gregory’s father in this hyper-realistic dream? He wasn’t sure what else he’d be to the kid whose adoption papers were literally locked within the safe box in his room, but it seemed Gregory trusted him regardless.

“And I’m glad you feel that way, Greg,” Michael replied, watching his son finally dislodge his death grip and stand. Mike’s shirt was a bit wet from the sniffling, though he didn’t care. “You can come to me and Jer about anything—we’re always here for you.”

That guy was just as head over heels about Gregory as Michael was, and through Gregory had always seemed to lean slightly more on Mike, over time he’d accepted that Jeremy was just as willing to listen with a caring ear.

“Speaking of your dad—” Michael’s grin widened, the gold band on his finger glinting in the light when he held out his left hand for Gregory to take. “—we should probably make sure he and Pappy still have all their limbs intact.”

It was a clear joke, but things had been a little tough when the blonde initially fell into Michael’s life. William came around eventually though—and he’d done the same for Gregory. Now the pair were just another set in the ever-expanding Afton family.

It was true that Jeremy and William had a rocky start to their relationship. Over time, Jeremy being a part of Michael’s life as well as his own became routine and unavoidable. It wasn’t something William could fight, as the man made his son happy. Eventually they found common ground. It was around the time that the boys had decided to adopt Gregory that their squabbles teetered off, in fact.

Giving his face one last wipe with his sleeve, Gregory trusted his hand to Mike’s and followed him back down the staircase. This time Gregory took closer looks at the many frames that were scattered on the walls, trying his best to associate names with faces on the way down. Sitting calmly at the table, leg crossed one over the other was his supposed grandfather, leaning back as he blew on a piping cup of tea. His pale eyes flicked to Gregory, and he smiled sweetly.

“Gregory… I’m so sorry for scaring you, sport. I didn’t see that you were frightened,” William apologized, not moving as he waited for the boy’s approach.

“S’alright…,” Gregory murmured in response, seeing just from demeanor alone that this William was certainly different than the one he met before.

Still strange beyond a doubt—but less overtly psychotic off the bat.

Clearing his throat, William pushed the present on the table towards Gregory as a peace offering.

“I spent a good two weeks on this one,” he boasted, looking down at his fingernails with charismatic glib. “Don’t feel like you have to open it now, but I thought you’d find it useful.”

If it was anything like the last present he gave Gregory, it might be painful. Waiting would only raise his anxiety though, so Gregory carefully unwrapped the present, flinching with each little sound the crinkling paper made. He looked to Jeremy and Michael before lifting the tiny lid, as if waiting for final reassurance that a hypodermic needle wasn’t about to pop out of this thing, too.

“Go ahead, little dude! You’re gonna love it,” Jeremy encouraged, so Gregory did—and gasped at what he saw: the tiniest Music Man ever!

Looking oh-so-impressed with himself, William leaned his weight on the back legs of his chair. “Yep! Complete with a Bluetooth speaker and an alarm function! He’s a little friend who can play you tunes and wake you up in the morning.”

“Amazing work as ever, Dad,” Michael praised, patting William on the shoulder as he passed on the way to the stove. Satisfied that Gregory wasn’t going to scream in fright or lash out at the gift, Mike turned away to pour his own cup of tea using water from the still-hot kettle.

William was happy for the recognition—even if he had a little help from his dear friend Henry for the detail work, it wasn’t unlike him to put on a persona of being able to do everything.

While the leaves steeped, Michael sidled up to Jeremy in the kitchen. Resting his hip against the counter, Michael leaned over to murmur in his ear. “He’ll be okay—he had a bad nightmare. Super realistic; made him all out of whack. I think he’ll be in a bit of a funk the rest of the day, but he already seems to be getting better.”

“He’s feeling sensitive today. Poor little man…,” Jeremy whispered in a pained sigh. He wished he could wave Gregory’s woes away with a few choice words or actions. Sadly, Gregory’s therapist said some days just weren’t going to be easy. Still, he and Mike knew the kid was far better off with them now, despite the occasional setbacks.

Gregory was stunned for a moment. He didn’t expect anything good to come from a present courtesy of William Afton, let alone a personal mini-bot. Noting the carabiner on his back, Gregory quickly clipped Mini Music Man to the belt loop on his cargo shorts.

“I love him… Thank you,” Gregory said honestly, looking like he was about to cry again, but held back the tears. It was, ironically, the first birthday gift he'd gotten in years. Or at least the first one he could remember. He was pulled into a side hug by William, unexpected but not completely unwarranted.

“Alright!” Michael stood up straight, clapping his hands together with a grin. “Here’s the plan for today: we can hang out here and digest breakfast, then get changed and meet the Emilys at the Pizzaplex. Sound good?”

His tea was steeped well enough now, so he picked up the cup and took a long, satisfying sip. Nursing the mug in his hands, he raised an eyebrow at William. “Think you’ll come along, Dad? I can ask if Liz and Evan want to meet there, too—make it a real party.”

Of course, there was already a private event planned tomorrow for Gregory’s actual birthday… But there was always time to host an impromptu one, even if the “party” just involved roaming the Pizzaplex playing whatever games caught their fancy.

As Gregory listened to his apparent father, William leaned over to gently tuck a lock of hair behind the boy's head in silent inspection. Not quite in a judgmental manner, though perhaps looking at the quality of his cut. Finding it very odd with the way William cared about his appearance, Gregory just let him play with his shaggy locks. It seemed to keep the old guy happy. Even if it was reminiscent of the horrible time he had in Fazerblast…

“I was planning on it. Henry left his cards at my house last Wednesday,” William replied to Mike without looking. “Should he not be in, I’m sure Samuel or Charlotte could give them back for me.”

“I wanna see Evan and Liz!” Gregory exclaimed, hoping maybe they’d have some ideas as to what was going on. Now that he was calming down, Gregory could think clearly how to go about finding out what happened to him.

“Okay, okay!” Michael laughed, holding one of his palms up as if to stop the force of Gregory’s excitement from bowling him over. At least he still had the same enthusiasm about his aunt and uncle that he always did.

Taking another long swig of tea, Michael too noted Gregory’s hair. Glancing side-long at Jeremy, by the confused look on his face it seemed like he hadn’t been responsible for the new ‘do either. Maybe Gregory did it himself? A little form of self-expression as he neared his teenage years. The half-flattened style’s reminiscence to one Mike wore in the 80's brought a little smile to his lips.

After downing the rest of his drink, Michael pulled out his phone. As he typed a message to his “Afton Bros (& Sis)” group chat, he suggested: “Greg, why don’t you chill in the living room with dad and grandpa while I get changed; I’m sure you can find some reruns of Freddy and Friends, if you want.”

Michael paused his typing, glancing up to make sure Gregory was okay with the idea. If he still wasn’t comfortable being left alone with the others, they’d make do—although Mike hoped the kid would be fine doing something as innocuous as watching TV with his dad.

Jeremy seemed to be waiting with baited breath for Gregory’s response. And, from Gregory’s perspective, he was pretty sure he could outrun William should he feel threatened. He didn’t know about Jeremy though. The guy looked like he was still fairly active for some guy in his fifties—

Not just “some guy,” Gregory thought, trying to reason with his own paranoia. He’s your other dad. And the dude made you the best pancakes. He must care about you.

“Sure!” he said, noting Jeremy perk up at his chipper response.

Jer was thankful that the strangeness of this morning had mostly blown over. Gregory was back to Earth so to speak, and he started off for the living room first—but not before giving Michael a grateful squeeze around the waist before departing from him. William stood up, using the table before him as leverage.

“You two go ahead without me; I’ll be having a smoke outside,” he warned, knowing Jeremy and Michael hated when he smoked indoors—especially around the kid.

“I wish you'd quit that habit,” Mike said with the heavy sigh of a long-standing argument. The Aftons were all stubborn in their own right, and William and Michael were the most strong-willed of them all. It was sometimes a wonder how they managed to get along as well as they did, with all the age-old bickering they got into.

Despite this, it was clear they cared for each other. With another pat to his father's shoulder as they split ways, Michael headed off to his room to get changed and clean up a bit before their outing.

***

When Mike came back downstairs, he heard one of the most pleasing sounds in the universe: the laughter of his two favorite people. Grinning from ear to ear, he stepped into the living room to see the pair sitting on the couch together, giggling at some stupid joke Jeremy was telling. The TV was on, and true to Michael's prediction the familiar animals were up to their hijinks on screen. No one really seemed to be paying attention though, and it sent a pang of warmth through Michael's heart to see Gregory and Jeremy having fun together.

“Oh god... what dumb story is Jer telling you now?” Michael asked, sinking into the cushion on Gregory's other side. “I bet Sam can hear you guys cackling from the Pizzaplex...”

Gregory had been leaning on Jeremy’s shoulder, laughing along with him. To fill Mike in, Jeremy tried his best to stop his chuckles. “I was telling Greg about that time I took over nightshift for that week, around when we first met. You remember how we had to wear those masks?”

There were various reasons why they used the masks from what Jeremy remembered. The biggest was so that the animatronics didn’t escort you back to the ‘party,’ even though opening hours were long past. Such buggy A.I….

“Remember when they found me with Bonnie hugging me? He thought I was Freddy and just bugged out. I don’t know if you knew—but I was sitting still for 4 hours,” Jeremy went on, recalling how he couldn’t move or say anything as Bonnie talked and talked. Gregory started laughing again when Jeremy retold the story, maybe not as hard but still finding that situation both horrifying and hilarious altogether.

“If our manager didn’t find me in the morning, I was going to pee myself. HE WOULDN’T LET ME GET UP,” Jeremy stressed, relating to one moment in his life where he was genuinely afraid of Bonnie, even if the bunny wasn’t trying to hurt him to begin with. The story itself was for Gregory not to feel upset when he was scared by William’s mask.

Will, who sat comfortably in a Lay-Z-Boy adjacent to the couch, had a smirk across his face. He got a silent kick out of knowing Jeremy was trapped in a confined office with one of his designs. Still, it was a good thing he wasn’t seriously hurt, or it might not have been so funny of a story for him or the business.

“That facial recognition software—always told Henry the programming had holes,” William reminisced amiably. Though technological marvels in themselves, the older models were a far cry from the Glamrocks that free-roamed the halls of the Pizzaplex.

“Gregory, you want to go change?” Michael suggested once the group had calmed down. Even if the kid loved that adorable hoodie, it was in definite need of a wash... The thin layer of dirt and dust led Mike to wonder how long he'd had the thing without their knowledge, let alone what he'd gotten into while wearing it. “We can leave once you and Jer are ready.”

Jeremy lifted one of Gregory's arms to inspect the sleeve of the hoodie with a grimace.

“Dude, please change this. These stains are probably going to set if I don't pretreat it,” he said, hoping to convince their son when it looked like he still wanted to cling to this new favored piece of clothing.

“Al-riiiight...” Gregory sighed, reluctantly unzipping his hoodie to relinquish into Jer's waiting hands.

“Thank you,” Jeremy replied, making a stop in the laundry room before heading upstairs to change. As he folded the hoodie over a few times to count all the stains he'd have to touch up, he reminded kindly: “Put your dirty clothes in the hamper, too, please—not just the floor.”

Gregory felt almost bad, abandoning the idea of Freddy as his father figure—he and the bear had gone through so much together. Apparently though, it all seemed to be a figment of his imagination.

“Sure, Dad; I'll be down in a minute!” Gregory would find no issue tidying up to keep the nice house he suddenly lived in clean, as the conditions he'd remembered living inside his dreams with those horrendous demons Rita and Terry scared him straight about being the least bit messy.

William watched Gregory go with a thoughtful look on his face, waiting until the boy was out of earshot to quirk a brow at his eldest.

“Remember when he was little and would put his underwear on the outside of his pants?” he asked, laughing softly at the memory. “I can't believe he's going to be thirteen tomorrow... It's like you two only got him yesterday.”

Michael snorted, shaking his head at the endearing recollection. One of the first times meeting his granddad, William had popped over for a surprise visit and Gregory managed to slip out of his room before Jeremy could finish helping him dress—underwear over his jeans, no shirt to be found, and one sock on inside-out. Michael had been mortified, since William was still warming up to the idea of a grandkid that wasn't his own blood... but thankfully the incident had the opposite effect, as the Afton patriarch burst out into laughter at the sight of the kid bolting out of his room with Jeremy tripping after him. From that moment on, it was clear who the favorite grandkid was (though Will would never admit this aloud).

Even if Gregory didn't share the same genetics—though it was pretty damn questionable with Evan's little face staring back at them every day—he'd somehow burrowed his way into William's heart.

When Michael and Jeremy told William that Gregory came from a bad foster house, he was ready to call the child a bad apple before setting eyes on him. He’d been fully prepared to show up at their home for a rather disappointing meeting of some random child. William didn't like admitting he was wrong—but this time he made a supremely rare exception to his own rules by apologizing for his opinions on the adoption the same night.

“I'm just glad he's adjusted so well,” Michael responded, angling his body to face his father in the recliner. They'd been warned Gregory came with some baggage, but that only made Jeremy and Mike all the more determined to provide him with a safe, loving home.

“Mhm, me too,” William agreed, sure that they were thinking similarly as his vision trailed to the TV once more.

Gregory heard Jeremy pass his room as he searched the place for clues about his life. Anything to try and jog a memory he seemingly lost. He found journals, old stationary pages from a school he didn’t remember attending. Gregory Fitz-Afton, was his name to the fullest extent of his knowledge. He apparently owned a few gaming consoles, neatly tucked away into wooden cubbies in his room and covered in stickers and decals. A sweet-looking computer set up under his loft bed made him wish he remembered having such nice things... Maybe later he’d be able to discover more pieces to who he truly was.

When Jeremy knocked at his door and asked him if he was almost ready to leave, Gregory had to quickly shove all the evidence he was gathering back atop his dresser. From there he called that he’d be just five minutes and quickly found an outfit: jeans, tank top, flannel. A quick change, and after remembering to carry his dirty clothes to the hamper he was barreling down the stairs in no time.

“Whoa!” With a fast-step, Michael narrowly avoided getting run over by his wayward child. Tutting, he called after the disappearing figure: “No running in the house, Gregory! Thaaaank you!”

Another few minutes of final preparation and everyone was gathered by the front door. Michael patted down his pockets, making sure he had his keys and wallet—containing their priceless all-access Pizzaplex passes, of course—before looking to the group with a smile. “Okay, I think we're ready!”

With a turn of the knob the door was opened and they filed out. After making sure the house was locked tight, Michael trotted down the front steps after the others.

“We'll see you in a bit, Dad,” he said, watching William get in the little purple car. Holding up a set of keys, he jingled them in the air before tossing them to his husband. “Jer—catch! You're driving today.”

“HECK yes!” Jeremy rejoiced. After the keys landed hard into his palm, he went and opened up Gregory’s door for him before trekking over to the driver's side of the van. Before starting the engine, he made sure that Gregory was buckled—the kid tended to forget all the time and they were trying to break the bad habit in him while he was young. “Greg, you all set?”

“Yup; let's go!” Gregory replied easily, to looking out the window. He took stock of the neighborhood—houses spaced far apart with nice, manicured lawns. It seemed pretty nice, and it was a shame Gregory still knew nothing about this place.

He only felt the car move as soon as William pulled out into the road to start speeding down the cul-de-sac. Jeremy raised a brow, easing onto the main road at a much more reasonable pace. “Ey, Mikey, is your dad trying to race me?”

Gregory preoccupied his time with inspecting the Mini Music Man, unhooking him from his belt loop and playing with his limp little legs before finding the tiniest button that powered him on. The spider-like musical creature immediately scurried up Gregory's arm, eliciting a surprised sound as the robotic companion came to rest on his shoulder. There, he played a little midi-synthesizing beat that Gregory found himself laughing at.

“Pay him no mind,” Michael said quickly, face paling at the memory of all the near-misses—and some not misses—William had caused over the years due to his frankly concerning driving. There was a reason Mike always insisted on taking their car whenever they went on family outings...

At the sound of Gregory's gasp Michael shifted around to look in the back seat, chuckling along with his son when the excited robot played its jaunty little tune.

“That's adorable,” he remarked, having to give his dad credit for his skill—even though he was sure Uncle Henry had at least a small part in the design. Assured that Gregory was okay for the moment, Michael turned back around to stare out the window, smiling as he felt Jeremy grasp his hand where it rested between the front seats.

Gregory was both astonished and relieved that the little automaton didn't try to stab him the moment of its activation. He giggled at the silly creature, entertained through the 20-minute ride from the sleepy cul-de-sac towards the inner portions of Hurricane. This area was more his speed; he knew these streets and free spots to hang around in vividly. He’d slept on these park benches, the memory of cold stone still pressed into his skin.

Gregory absently rubbed his forearms to chase away the phantom chill. If it’d all been a dream, then why did it feel so real?

***

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