Chapter Text
One day to think—a decision reached.
Chica sat in the maintenance chair the next evening, eyes closed and relaxed. Whatever waited for her in these memories, she was confident it would be no worse than the near sixty years she'd lived—almost fifty of which were in service to vengeance and violence.
No apprentice, neither Freddy's favorite two nor the ones on afternoon duty, were present.
Freddy stood closest to the glass. He crossed his arms and kept a firm but supportive eye on her.
To either side of him, kept separate to keep fighting to a minimum, Roxy and Monty waited with barely-suppressed impatience.
Somewhere behind them, Sun and Moon huddled against the wall. Despite his quiet exterior, constant jingling betrayed Sun's anxiety and nerves, and Moon was a truly quiet and calm presence. Still, even he shook his wrist quietly but regularly.
Sure, it made the place a little crowded, but it was worth it to feel a little less alone in this.
Something sour curled inside her at the thought that Bonnie and Foxy couldn't be here—technically, they weren't supposed to be fully active yet, but it would have been nice.
It really would have been nice to have them here . . .
tap tap tap
She opened her eyes. Freddy smiled at her from the other side. She gave a small smile back.
"Alright, ready to start restoration," Poe said. "We'll start with removing a few of the blockers, and then we'll continue from there. Ready?"
Cables from the maintenance tube had already been carefully attached to the ports behind her earrings. She had decades of past experiences to soften the blows Angela was concerned about. She was as ready as she could be.
Except . . .
"Don't bother holding back, sugar," she chirped. She gave the technician a bright smile, trying to be convincing without arousing too much suspicion. That only got easier with the years. "I'm made of sturdy stuff."
Angela raised a brow, but she didn't say anything. When Poe glanced at her got confirmation, she said, "Let's compromise with half of them, and then tell me how you feel. Does that sound alright?"
It . . . would do. She couldn't push too much, not with the techs, so Chica sighed dramatically. "Fine. But don't say I didn't tell you so!"
They plugged in. Sitting in the maintenance chair behind the maintenance tube's glass, Chica sat back and closed her eyes. The technician said some technical nonsense, counted down, and clicked a button.
Slowly, images came to her. They were unfamiliar . . . but familiar at the same time.
And she remembered.
She remembered seeing small bodies and chasing them around the PizzaPlex. She remembered how if she did a good job, she would be rewarded. She remembered the children—not their names, but the fact that it was children she needed to incapacitate and take to him.
Because of course it was him. Even after Henry Emily's fire trap, William Afton found a way to come back.
But—oh, this was worse than before. Before, she'd been sharing a body with Susie, her little girl who'd just wanted to find her dog. Susie was angry, like a lot of the dead children, but she'd never made—
Chica retched. Her arms wrapped around her stomach, and something unpleasant squirmed in her hatch—something gross and wiggling and rotting—
Oh, but she was so hungry . . . she could really go for some pizza—
"Okay, that's enough—"
"No!"
The memories stopped anyway, but when Chica glared at the human workers, she found Poe still at the computer, ready to start again. Angela had an air of professional caution, but not like the night guards from before. There was no deep-seated fear there, but what was there was near indecipherable with the taste of rot sitting on her tongue and the squirming in her gut.
"How are you feeling?" Angela asked.
Chica simulated a deep breath. "I'm fine. Keep going."
"If you need a break, or if you'd like to stop now—"
"I don't need—"
Tap, tap, tap.
Chica blinked. Her gaze drifted from Angela to Freddy, who stood to one side with a paw on the glass and his mechanical jaw set. And beside him, Roxy and Monty watched her worriedly, and she would have felt better about them not bickering if not for how uncharacteristically quiet they both were.
Somewhere behind the techs and the rest of her band, Sun and Moon watched her with red, glowing eyes. Moon, incredibly expressive with his new face, looked her over and straightened up when he caught her eyes.
Beside him, Sun wrapped his arms around himself and smiled a wild, terrified smile. He looked through her like a wild animal—or like she was a the wild animal he hoped to anything that would listen would stay contained.
She remembered he would look at her like that long ago, before the fire but after being infected.
. . .
"A break," she croaked, feeling like if she listened hard enough, she would hear the loud whine of fans working overtime. "It—a break would be good."
Angela nodded, and Poe took their hands off the console. Chica sat back and closed her eyes, partially so she could properly process the new (technically old) memories, and partially so she wouldn't have to see that terrified expression again.
She let the memories sink in. As visceral as the whole eating garbage think was, once she had time to process it, it felt almost no different from having a child stuffed in her endoskeleton. It was revolting and disturbing—but it was nothing new.
This was nothing new.
She would be fine.
"Keep going," she finally said, keeping her eyes closed. She needed—she just needed to get through this. "I'm okay now."
"Are you sure?" Angela asked. "I think—"
"Look, I really appreciate you and what you're doing for us, but I'd like to remember. This isn't—" anything new. Theoretically, according to the techs of all generations, she wasn't supposed to know what happened in the previous locations. About them, yes, but never about the murders or atrocities behind the scenes. She bit her tongue and continued. "We're tougher than we look. I can handle this."
Besides, if she couldn't get it from the technicians, she had no problem getting it from Freddy.
Something large and mechanical shifted. "She is correct," Freddy murmured. "She will be fine."
Some murmuring, some discussion that Chica did not listen to, and then the memories came again.
This time, she was ready. This time, she braced for each time Afton's virus made her lose control of herself and shovel garbage down her throat. Even though she braced herself, the urge to heave and howl took over and nearly shook her apart, threatened to send her collapsing to the floor. But no, she had eyes on her, both from technicians and the ones she needed to be a role model for. She could fall apart later, when she was alone with Freddy, Bonnie, and Foxy.
For now, she had younger eyes on her, and she needed to be strong for them.
-.-.-
Chica finished in short order. She hopped out of the maintenance tube, all smiles and I'm fine's, and Monty wished he could make himself go in next. He'd wanted this—damn it, he'd wanted this so bad.
But her initial reaction . . .
He headed out when the technicians asked if anyone wanted to go next. Roxy had looked at him weird, and Sun threw him a vindictive smirk. Monty had half a mind to throttle him and Moon, but the threat of not getting any information hung over his head, so he turned away, slapping his tail on the ground in the for some sense of satisfaction.
He clenched his fists and—
God, the look on Chica's face . . .
She looked like she was in pain, and that was just from half of the memories. If anything Sun had hinted at was even remotely true, then would Monty be able to handle that pain?
He ruined my freaking life.
Monty stopped in the middle of the atrium and just . . . thought. He'd given a lot of thought to a lot of things, mostly about the huge gap in his memory and how everyone was so different.
Roxy, someone he'd considered a sister before, was neurotic and cared way too much about what others thought. She'd been easy to rile up before, but she was too easy to rile up now. It had to be his doing, right? She had to be—
No.
Focus.
Freddy, warm and friendly before, seemed more guarded now.
Chica, arguably the least changed—still a mother hen, still looking out for everyone, but she was stressed now. Ashamedly, Monty figured that was mostly his and Roxy's fault.
Maybe he could stand to be a little less antagonistic, for her sake . . .
DJ . . . he didn't know what to think about DJ. It had brushed him off easily about that night, but considering Chica's reaction, was it really in cahoots with him, or was it just worried?
The thought that DJ was protecting him from something seemed a little more outlandish than the thought that it was working with the one that had . . . ruined their lives? Given them strength?
Would regaining those memories hurt him more, or would the pain be worth the information to not feel so helpless?
Cortez didn't tell him what he should do, one way or another. In their sessions, it was more working through his anger and his ideas, but she didn't tell him whether she believed he should remember or not. Hell, she'd only presented this yesterday.
Monty tapped his foot. His tail lashed behind him, and he did his best to keep from damaging the floor. What the hell was the right answer here? When Chica regained her memories, it looked like it hurt. What had she, one of the nicest people he knew, done that it made her so . . . sick? Was it worth it, to know who gave him so much strength? Did he want to know the cost?
Unbidden, Sun came to mind. Out of his mind, erratic as hell—
Monty shook his head. Fuck it, he couldn't do this right now. With a huff, he stormed over to the east arcade for some mindless gaming. Maybe then, he could come up with something.
He took a few steps forward.
He stopped.
Sun had started laughing when Monty had told him about the gap. He—he'd started laughing, and while Monty didn't know him well before all this, he knew that laugh wasn't meant for kids.
It sounded mean, like something had changed him.
Is that all you care about? Whoever that person is? You don’t even know if it’s a he or a she, do you?
His tail lashed.
I know who they were.
They destroyed my f-f-freaking life.
Monty turned on his heel and marched right back to maintenance.
You're not gonna find them.
He snarled, and his footsteps fell harder and harder the more he dwelt on this.
I remember everything, you know. And if you ever wanna find them, then I suggest you leave Moon and I alone.
What a load of bullshit.
-.-.-
Roxy hopped on the chair and tried to hide her nerves under a veneer of nonchalance. Sure, Chica had looked . . . very put off, and sure, Freddy was uncharacteristically nonchalant about it, but that just meant it wasn't a big deal, didn't it? They were all blowing it out of proportion, and it was just a shock to the system, right?
Still, when Angela suggested they start with a small portion, she didn't argue. With a token, "What, think I can't handle it?" she sat back and determined to let them do their thing.
"Do you want us to unload the whole thing?" Angela quirked a brow, and Roxy appreciated the playfulness to her tone while her brows furrowed in slight concern. She didn't know if she could handle the others knowing her—her emotions right now.
So, she waved Angela off and scoffed. "I trust you; just do whatever."
With a nod, Angela turned to Poe and murmured something to them. She didn't bother tuning into their quiet conversation, instead opting to close her eyes and just let this happen.
She could feel when it happened. For a moment, she tensed horribly and braced herself for the worst, but all she remembered was . . .
Eyes. She remembered purple eyes staring deep in her soul, if she ever had one. It . . . it whispered in her ear . . .
Her joints and limbs relaxed a bit, but that didn't stop the uncertainty squirming within her. Something whispered in her ear, and it grew louder when she failed at—at something. What was that something?
Not good enough.
Failure.
You call yourself the best?
She remembered . . . something small? Competition, for sure, and the competition spreading to her raceway. She remembered—
Fuck, she remembered making the guests feel terrible for winning or losing their races. She really was the worst wasn't she?
The memories stopped, and Roxy had half a mind to beg them to continue—but she couldn't—could she handle it? Her core burned, and she would have cried if she was able, but she suppressed the whimpers and sobs that wanted to escape. She could—unpack this? She could deal with this later, when she was away from the others.
Roxy simulated a breath. "You done?" she asked, and her voice came out as steady as she needed it to.
Still, the eyes on her seemed to stare right into her deepest state.
"For now, yes. How do you feel?" Angela replied.
"We definitely have a lot to talk about." Opening her eyes, Roxy flashed a grin. "I have so much gossip for you."
Angela didn't respond in the way Roxy wanted her to. She just nodded and wrote something down on her notepad. "I look forward to your visit, then."
The door hissed open, and Roxy hopped off and sauntered out. "Alright, who's next?"
With Monty gone, there was really only one left.
Moon glanced at Sun, and his eyes seemed to flash in the dim light of Parts and Services. Sun wouldn't look at him. Silence struck the maintenance room for the first time that night, and Roxy didn't like it.
She also didn't like how quiet they both were—how Moon was clearly looking to Sun for support and how Sun was ignoring him. She bit back a snarl and walked on over, ignoring the annoying jingling and pushing herself between them.
Sun hissed, but she ignored him and crouched down so she was a little more eye-to-eye with Moon. She could be a good friend, starting here. "Hey, it's not too bad," she said. She tried to catch his eye, but they kept flicking sideways and away from her. "And if you're not up for it—"
With a yelp, she overbalanced as someone shoved her away and latched onto Moon's hand. "It's not worth it," Sun whispered, not even sparing a glance at Roxy, which—rude. "You—Moon Moon, please, you can't—"
Dusting herself off, she shoved herself to her feet and growled, "He can make up his mind for himself, ass."
"Together, or not at all." Moon ignored them both and marched to the maintenance tube.
"No—no, no no no, Moon!" Sun grabbed him by the hand, and it took everything in Roxy not to punt him. "It's—it's bad, please—"
But just because she didn't want to punt him didn't mean she wouldn't knock him down. "Lay off," she scoffed. "Whatever it is—"
"You stay out of it!!" Sun turned on her but refused to let go of Moon. "You don't—you have no idea what happened!"
"And that's what we're trying to fix! What, are you scared he'll see something terrible?"
"I—"
"Or did you do something terrible?" It came unbidden, but she didn't push it away. Instead, she pushed. "Whatever Moon did, you did something worse, didn't you? And now you're scared he'll see you at your worst!"
"Roxanne!" Chica's voice cut through her tirade, and she looked pissed. Even though she'd been in pain before, even though she'd been sick, she still shot her a furious glare. "Out of line, hon."
Roxy opened her mouth to shoot a retort, but furious jingling brought her attention back to the Daycare Attendants. Sun's eyes, glitching red, skittered to the floor, and his right wrist shook—the cause of the noise.
And Moon—Moon was downright pissed. Pinprick eyes glared daggers at her, and although he wasn't shaking as much as Sun, she could see his frame trembling minutely.
"Don't yell at him," he growled. Sun flinched behind him and reached for his collar.
Roxy cooled down a little. "But—"
"You don't get to yell at him. Leave us alone." With those parting words, he turned and marched to the tube.
Sun, of course, followed, still murmuring protests but quieter now.
Roxy watched him go. God, had she ruined this again . . . ?
The best? No, you're only the best at ruining everything.
Despite the protests and quiet begging, Moon hoisted himself onto the chair and allowed himself to be plugged in. Chica, at least, got some control over the situation by grabbing the little menace and keeping him close to her.
Roxy crossed her arms and watched. She struggled to keep her eyes on Moon, but . . . at least he wasn't looking at her. She could still feel Chica's eyes boring into her.
"Alright, same as with Roxy we're going to start with just a small portion. How's that sound?"
Moon gave a small, resolute nod. "Sounds okay."
Unlike with her and Chica, the door didn't close; Sun wiggled out from under Chica's arm and inched closer to it. Poe didn't mention it, and neither did Angela, and Roxy supposed it was fine as long as the Chica didn't let go of his hand.
Poe typed the sequence to start the unblocking. Just like with Roxy and Chica, Moon closed his eyes and seemed to brace himself—hell, even Sun stiffened when Poe finished typing.
Once again, silence. Roxy's ear twitched, and her tail flicked uncomfortably.
It lasted for a second.
And then Moon's eyes flew open—red pinpricks glitching and voice box full of static. He made these awful choking sounds and scrabbled at his face plate.
And then he screamed.
Roxy flattened her ears against her hair and pressed them down with her hands, but she still couldn't drown him out. Sun yanked against Chica, screaming bloody murder—tried to get to Moon while Roxy stood there, frozen and horrified because what the hell was happening?
It hadn't been this intense with Chica, and Roxy definitely hadn't felt like screaming this bad, so what—?
Moon yanked the cables out of his head.
Sun slipped away and scrambled into the maintenance tube.
Everything calmed down almost immediately after that. Roxy stayed back and watched as Sun and Moon hugged each other like they would disappear without each other, as Chica tugged them out and Freddy talked with the staff.
"It's okay," Chica murmured. "Come on, let's get you out—"
Monty marched in, stomping and snarling deep in his throat. Roxy pressed herself against the wall, but he didn't look at any of them. No, instead he approached the maintenance tube and, ignoring Chica shoving the Daycare Attendants away from him, stood stiffly in front of Poe and Angela.
"Do me, too," he rumbled. "I gotta know."
Angela pursed her lips and glanced worriedly at Moon. Roxy opened her mouth to offer her help, but Chica beat her with a, "Don't worry, I've got them!"
"If you're sure," Angela said. "Moon, Sun."
Only Sun responded, turning his head toward her, while Moon clung to him with terrified eyes.
"Come see me when you're ready. I can't imagine the stress, but . . ."
Sun didn't answer with words. He didn't really even give a clear yes or no. He just took Moon by the hand and all but shoved past Roxy in a bid to get out of Parts and Services. Chica followed after them, and, unwilling to stay behind with Monty, Roxy trailed on after. Only Freddy stayed behind, and she almost felt bad about it.
Almost.
-.-.-
Moon followed numbly. He couldn't even tell who was leading him, the voices around him melting in the background of just—just the emotional roller coaster he'd just experienced.
Fear.
Anger.
Anguish.
Guilt.
It wasn't—they weren't even attached to anything concrete. All Moon recalled before ripping out the cables himself was a purple shadow, but that shadow, it—
It loomed.
It was important.
And he didn't like it.
Even thinking on it now—a shudder ran through him. What was it about that shadow that shook him to the core and made him want to rip off his casing? It shouldn't . . .
Shaky pulses crossed their communication line. Moon couldn't decipher them—he couldn't process them right now, but he pinged Sunny back just for him to know was being acknowledged.
Chica was talking. He couldn't—couldn't process her words.
It was Sunny's hand leading him along. Moon stared at their intertwined hands and focused on that—he focused on the soft pads gripping his own, on the yellow and gray casing instead of the shadow.
He was fine . . .
He would be fine . . .
"—could show you my guitar! How's that sound?" Chica's voice filtered in.
"It sounds good," Sunny replied quietly. Moon squeezed his hand. "Moon says it's good, too."
Heavier footsteps sounded behind them; Roxy fell into step with them. "Um, mind if I join? I can bring my keytar."
Moon sent a hesitant affirmative to Sunny, who made an annoyed sound but said she would be welcome. Chica echoed the sentiment with a little more enthusiasm.
"It'll be a nice little jam session, just like old times—"
"YOU!!!"
Moon snapped out of his daze. Thundering footsteps, angry and fast, rapidly approached them. He only had a split second to process Chica whirling around and Roxy's shout before something slammed into him and would not let go.
Something slammed him to the ground, and a large hand on his chest kept him from moving. Monty's furious expression loomed over him with glowing purple eyes and a snarl that exposed all of his teeth. He didn't even have a second to brace himself before Monty lifted him and slammed him back down—before he reared his fist back and slammed it next to Moon's head.
"I KNEW IT WAS YOU!!" Monty roared.
Moon stared mutely up at him. Those purple eyes—the same shade as the shadow—no, don't think about that—
A snarl ripped through his thoughts, and he found himself lifted high in the air by the neck. "You tried to keep it from me, but I got the proof!"
SLAM!!
Moon's voice box glitched when he hit the ground, and pain shot up his back. Errors and alerts flooded his system and blared in his head—it blared so loud it almost drowned out a different scream.
Monty jerked back. Sparks flew from behind him. Sunny's snarling face rose over Monty's head, one hand grasping and yanking at his hair while the other pulled at his jaw.
Moon choked a terrified gasp as, having forgotten the first target of his rage, Monty grabbed Sunny and flung him away.
And then he turned. A guttural growl rumbled out of his throat. He lunged forward, but Roxy grabbed him by the arm.
Moon's vision swam. His optics glitched and grew red red red. Chica scrambled to separate Sunny and Monty, and Roxy did her best to help her, but Moon couldn't be relieved.
He couldn't be glad for that.
Because all he could see now was danger, and all he could hear now was the Alarm blaring and screaming and raging and fighting.
His body twitched and jerked, and his back wouldn't straighten right, but Moon got up all the same. Security mode surged forward with protective and defensive measures, but something deeper and angrier begged him to rip at Montgomery's casing and bite.
His world was a flurry of rage and motion. Blue claws stabbed into green casing, screaming and shouting filled his audio receptors—red red red rage flooded his being in an endless ebb and flow, coming and going like the ocean's tides.
Somewhere around him, Sunny hammered at Monty with his fists. Somewhere around him, Chica demanded that they stop. Somewhere around them, someone roared and accused and screamed in pain—
Agony burst through them—he swore he could feel his hands break even though they were fine.
Fire shot through the communication line back and forth, back and forth, and it was all he could do to keep his arm attached.
Solid arms wrapped around him and held him up in the air. Moon clawed angrily at them only to be met with thick fabric that clogged up his claws.
"Stop!!" Roxanne snarled. "It's over!"
But it wasn't—it wasn't over. He could still hear the Alarm blaring and screaming and raging, held tightly in Chica's arms and thrashing. He could still feel his fans working furiously to cool his overheated body. He could still see the danger, restrained but not subdued, held to the ground by Freddy.
It was only when security arrived that Moon even began to calm down, but their arrival hosted a whole new box of worries and nerves. As he slowly, slowly came down from the artificial adrenaline's high, he remembered their hostility toward himself and Sunny—and he knew they couldn't stay.
Security couldn't be trusted, and if Roxy and Chica planned to keep them here—to turn them in—
Angela Cortez and Poe led the charge, and they were the first to approach Monty. They were the first to talk softly but firmly—now would be his chance.
Moon squirmed in Roxy's hold. He needed to get to Sunny—he needed to calm him down so security wouldn't shock them again, so they wouldn't—
He was sure Parts and Services wouldn't be a good thing right now.
"Hold still, runt," Roxy grunted, but Moon only squirmed harder.
"Let go!" he huffed. "I need to help!"
"Help what!? You're gonna get yourself hurt!"
The only one who would hurt himself was Sunny, still angry and writhing against Chica. With one good twist, he slipped out of Roxy's hold and, ignoring the surprised shouts from security and Roxy herself, hurried over to Chica.
But a hand clasped over his, and the jolting pain announced the awfully jagged rips in his casing and clothes, left arm hanging by a few wires and his miraculously, semi-whole sleeve. When he looked back, Roxy glared at him and snarled, "Don't make this worse."
Moon sneered right back. "I need to help Sunny!"
"He's going to get you decommissioned!!"
"I don't care!!" Sparks flew when he yanked himself free, and he ran straight to Chica.
Forced to brace herself on the ground, Chica knelt and held Sunny with both her arms and her knees, keeping him pinned to her even as he twisted and screamed wordlessly at Monty. Moon hurriedly knelt beside her, and to his shame and ire, Roxy settled behind him.
In the corner of his eye, he saw Freddy let up a little. He saw Angela speaking sharply to security, and Poe seemed to confirm whatever orders she felt were appropriate. For his part, he focused only on his friend.
First instinct said to play the soothing melody, so he quickly started it up. However, an error message bounced between the both of them:
ERROR: Sleep mode limit reached. Re-enter sleep mode in: 11 hours.
No go.
He hummed nervously. Rage pulsed in the communication line between them, threatening to pull Moon down with it—the Alarm was still screaming, after all, and it wouldn't take much to pull him down again.
But they couldn't continue being angry—not right now.
Moon dug through his music bank and—yes, that one would do again.
The music box switched melodies. It almost drowned under the snarling and the snapping, but it was there. Tentatively, Moon reached out and grabbed one of Sunny's hands, curled into harmless claws and reaching to harm. As soon as Moon grabbed it, the fingers twitched but relaxed—just that one touch seemed to calm him down a little.
'No one's gonna harm you—not while I'm around.'
He hummed out loud but sent the words to Sunny. Already, the thrashing slowed, and Chica breathed a relieved sigh.
'No one's gonna harm you, no sir—not while I'm around.'
Red eyes glitched and zeroed in on Moon. The rage all but disappeared.
He continued humming as Sunny came down from his rage-fueled high, and he continued humming when Chica was finally able to transfer him to Moon. Sunny hugged Moon, despite the damage to his hands and the strain on his body. Moon hugged him back, ignoring the sharp pain in his arms and back—
—only to collapse.
Before the world went dark and quiet, he could her someone screaming—the movement around him once again turned violent, and so he slipped away in chaos.
~.~.~
Sun picked at his bells. They took Moon away—they took him away, and Sun couldn't stop them, not here huddled in the nest room of their loft.
They took him to Parts and Services to be fixed, and Sun wasn't there to make sure they wouldn't—
“Oh, you’re early. Well, shoulda expected this. Here, hop into the cylinder while I get everything up and running.”
And he'd been the fool to salute and exclaim, "Aye-aye!" while delivering Moon to his demise.
For all he knew, it could happen again. Moon had screamed and screamed in the maintenance tube, and that could only spell bad things—it could only mean that the virus was back, that The Nightmare could come back.
And it wasn't like they would let him come along! They wouldn't let him make sure nothing went wrong! No, they'd taken Moon from him and—and—
Sun buried his face in his knees. He shuddered and trembled, and he could feel the fire licking at his shoes and pants, burning and burning without an escape—
The barrier was back.
There were no hallucinations that time—had that been from sleep deprivation, he wondered—but the solid wall was back. Not in the play area—no, this time he had the whole daycare all to himself. They probably figured they were being generous this time, but they were still keeping him locked here, probably indefinitely, lights on—
"Just until we make sure Moon is okay. Then you'll be free to roam."
Angela Cortez hadn't argued against it, but she'd seemed stressed and distracted.
The night crawled on. He heard shouting from below, someone wanting to see im maybe, but he ignored them. He needed—
He needed—
Moon needed to come back.
And when he came back—when he came back safe and whole . . .
Oh, Montgomery was going to pay.