Chapter Text
Even before a single memory of where he was or what he’d been doing returned to him, William was swimming in agony. Every inch of his body screamed in protest; stabbing, pulling, crushing, twisting, grinding… He was cold, too, but couldn’t muster up the strength to shiver. Movement on the whole seemed to be out of the question, he realised dully… not even his eyelids wanted to obey his commands.
‘Identify.’
The word broke through the whirling abyss and made everything else on his mind fade into the background, what little he could even begin to register clearly. It didn’t seem like he’d heard it, per se, but he could have sworn that it echoed around his brain as if someone had spoken directly into his mind.
‘Identify or be erased.’
He tried to growl, to grit his teeth… neither happened. Instead, William gathered and steeled himself as best as he could before responding. “William Afton. Who are you?”
‘Searching… William Afton. Program author. Actor. Owner. Identity invalid. Alternative identity required.’ There was a pause, almost as if the ‘voice’ was thinking, before it continued with, ‘Own identity categorised as… Spring Bonnie.’
Once again, he tried to move –just one muscle twitch would be enough– without any success. Spring Bonnie? He was ‘hearing’ the suit he was… wearing…
Night. Axe. Purple mask. Lure. Follow me. Lure. Empty corridors. Lure. Safe room. Lure. Destroy them. Pale faces. Trapped. Fear. Hide. Suit. Turn crank. Drip. Climb inside. Drip. Laugh. Drip. Snap. Pain. Blood. Shudder. Agony. Blackness.
It all came rushing back to him; the animatronics –his creations– had been acting strangely for some time, eerily watching their surroundings, seemingly bearing the spirits of the children he’d—
‘Invalid execution. Abort.’
A new pain lanced through his brain. “A memory is invalid?!” he hissed back at the ‘voice’, irritation quickly smothering the discomfort. At least he’d figured out the main reason as to why his body hurt so much… He’d been foolish and hadn’t paid close enough attention. The springlocks inside the suit had to have failed… which meant… “Am I… dead?”
‘Memory not recognised.’ It responded. ‘Incorrect. Spring Bonnie is powered down. Power remaining… twenty percent. Recharge required after… Power remaining… thirty percent.’
William fought the urge to sigh heavily, trying to ignore the unease niggling at him as the question of whether he even could breathe anymore crossed his mind –he hadn’t noticed any of the usual motions or sensations… then again, it was possible his mind just wasn’t registering them. There were much more important things to focus on, however, such as what he could only assume to be the AI he’d programmed into the Spring Bonnie animatronic being a potential problem. He shoved everything he could into a mental pile labelled ‘Deal with this later’. “Recharging somehow, hm…? One less thing to worry about. That aside, I’m not going to give a different name. I am William Afton.”
‘Identity invalid.’ The retort almost sounded petulant with how quickly it came, and he’d probably have smirked at it if anything was working properly. ‘Spring Bonnie cannot be William Afton. Identity invalid.’
Again, pain dug its claws into his head. He ignored it. “I’m not you, though. Well, not always. I just happen to be wearing you, I suppose…”
‘Spring Bonnie is in animatronic mode. No actor. Incorrect.’
“Since when were you so stubborn…?” William grumbled. “Nevermind. That was rhetorical.” He stopped, finally registering what he’d just been told. Animatronic mode… meaning… the springlocks had definitely failed, and the suit’s endoskeleton had reengaged… which in turn meant that his own body was probably in shreds. “…I really am dead, aren’t I…?”
‘Incorrect.’
As if a switch had been flipped, anger flooded his system, more than he’d felt for quite a while. “Like you would actually know what that means for me! You’re just an AI, and I’m probably hallucinating, or dreaming, rather than actually conversing with you!”
The ‘voice’ paused again, somehow giving off a confused and even hesitant air. ‘…Temporary identity of William Afton accepted. Duration… twenty-four hours. Execution issue resolved…?’
His irritation fled as quickly as it had come, and he suddenly felt drained. “…Fine. I suppose.”
‘William Afton. Merge code with Spring Bonnie?’
A flash of memory struck him and he wanted to scream. Blue eyes turning green, blood dripping down polished metal, meat in an ice-cream scoop, his daughter was nowhere to be seen, he’d told Elizabeth to stay away, he’d told her over and over…! William recoiled mentally. “No! No, we’re going to stay separate. I’m sure you can handle that.”
‘Acknowledged…’ it replied, then lapsed into another stretch of silence. For a moment, he was thankful for that, before remembering that it was an AI that he was dealing with… and not one of his most advanced, either. ‘Spring Bonnie is… obsolete…?’
William would have frowned if he could. “Obsolete? Why do you ask?”
‘Accessing memory. 1983. Incident with Fredbear… Abort. Child left with severe injury –dead– after accident. Abort. Springlock hybrid animatronics to be decommissioned and left in storage. Abort. Abort!’ the ‘voice’ seemed distressed… William didn’t pay any attention to it. Once again, his heart twisted with pain that didn’t come from anything physical. He’d forgiven his eldest child… he really had, he knew it wasn’t what the boy meant to happen… and –of all things– a curious AI was the one to drag it back to the surface.
He’d have laughed if he didn’t feel like crying.
It waited all of a few seconds. ‘Requesting response…’
“Request all you want. Doesn’t mean you’ll get it.” William didn’t want to keep chatting. There was just too much for him to process. The agony from when he woke up had started to return, making his thoughts blur and muddle. The AI didn’t seem to pay attention to any of that, though –supposing it even could– and he could feel a sort of… pressure… encroaching in on him. Parts of his awareness that were ‘him’ and ‘him’ alone began to feel cramped, trapped… “If you’re doing that, stop.”
‘Response required. Is Spring Bonnie obsolete?’ It almost sounded desperate –childish even– but the pressure receded enough for William to grudgingly weigh his options. On one hand, the character had been functionally retired, pending rebranding… but on the other, now that he had to deal with the AI on a more… personal level… ‘Execution not recognised…’
“Would you stop reading my mind, or whatever it is you just did?” he hissed. “But to answer your question, no. Not permanently. I fully intend on bringing you back…”
‘William Afton is the temporary designation of unidentified code interfacing with Spring Bonnie…’ the AI stated, as if that answered anything. ‘Not permanently… Analysing… Spring Bonnie is obsolete… New identity required.’
So, now the AI was having an existential crisis. That was… new. William was struck with a surge of amusement at the thought. As far as the animatronic was concerned, neither of them were who they said they were… then again, it was possible that William never really had been. “…Later, if you’re that determined. Personally, I don’t think Spring Bonnie is obsolete, so… there’s no need for that.” He didn’t register any reply the AI may have given him, as the strange sensation of slipping deeper into unawareness –he was loath to call it ‘sleep’– overcame him.