Chapter Text
Bonnie was always his favorite.
The big purple bunny just always felt… inviting. Like you could talk to him about everything. And that’s just what Canetheus did.
But something changed on his sixth birthday. He didn’t remember the party itself very well, just that he was insistent on it taking place at his favourite Freddy’s location. He vaguely remembered seeing a teenager with very short blonde hair telling him not to get too close to the stage. Honestly, he mostly remembered the striking grey colour of his eyes.
He also remembered not listening.
Bonnie’s focus wasn’t on him in that moment. No, he was looking at Freddy, playing some pre-recorded conversation between the two. Canetheus was practically on the stage at this point, and that’s when Bonnie’s mouth opened.
At first he thought that it was a performer inside of the purple bunny, when he saw the tuft of matted brown hair inside his mouth. He was disappointed for a second, having always preferred how the animatronics moved without someone inside of them.
And then he saw the red. The hair wasn’t matted because of sweat like he thought originally, it was something else entirely. Was it… blood?
“That’s when the guy with the uh, grey eyes came over and swept me away. I don’t… I don’t remember what he was saying ‘cause I was too focused on the blood, but I remember my mom freaking out. We.. never went back there.”
Canetheus sighed as he leaned back in one of the big leather seats that adorned his therapist’s office, avoiding eye contact with the older person. “Why’d you even wanna hear the story again? I’ve told it like, three times already.”
The person sitting across from him cleared their throat to catch his attention and gaze. “Because, Mr. Freeman, this story changes every time you tell it.” That certainly caught his interest, because he sat up a little straighter in his chair.
“Nothing major ever changes. The teenager you mention always has short hair and grey eyes, and he always pulls you away. You always see hair inside of the animatronic’s mouth and you always notice the blood. Your age stays the same as well, which leads me to accept that this actually happened to you.”
“However, the animatronic changes every time. The first time it was Foxy, the next it was Chica, and this time it was Bonnie. And with the animatronic, the hair changes as well. I believe Foxy’s was orange, and Chica’s was blonde,” they checked their notes to make sure, nodding when they were satisfied with their own remembrance.
They let out a soft sigh as they leaned forward, their forearms now propped up on their knees. “Now, I am not at all surprised by this. You were young when it happened, so of course you would remember it wrong. No child goes through that and remembers it like it happened yesterday. But knowing that the story changes so often is a good starting point toward recovering. Maybe it will even help you realize that what you saw was not real .”
There it was. Every session, they tried to tell Cane that what he saw wasn’t real. But he knew it was. He still remembered the colour of the blood, the smell that was coming from the animatronic. So what if he always remembered a different animal or colour of hair? He did enough research to know that five kids went missing in that hell hole long enough ago that it wouldn’t be too farfetched to assume that’s where their bodies ended up.
He didn’t say that though, simply allowing his therapist to assume that he had hallucinated. He knew the truth. And so did his nightmares.
“Well, it looks like we are out of time. I’ll see you in two weeks, Mr. Freeman.” They stood up and he did as well, absentmindedly shaking their hand before booking it out of there. He was still hoping to get a little bit of sleep before the sun went down. He was lucky he was off work today.
Maybe it was a mistake to choose a therapist so close to his house. Sure it was a small town, and he really didn’t have any other choices, but it feels impossible to leave everything there when he was in walking distance of his home. It was just lurking there, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
He was greeted with a loud meow when he pushed open the front door, forcing a tired smile onto his lips. “I know, I know, you’re just so traumatized by me leaving for an hour,” he cooed, leaning down to bring his fluffy hell being into his arms.
The idea of getting a cat was something he would have given a resigned chuckle to merely two years ago, but ever since his therapist suggested it he’d been happier than ever about going through with it. Cheesy Dip was the cat love of his life, and he could no longer imagine life without her.
The fluffy orange cat was a bit of a drama queen, sure, but that kept him on his toes. He never forgot to feed her because she always reminded him, and she didn’t seem to have a problem with screaming when she needed something.
He still couldn’t take proper care of himself- not with how much he hated seeing himself in any sort of reflection- but at least he could keep her happy and healthy.
Eventually, Cheesy was screaming to be let down, so he let her jump out of his arms, watching her scurry off to do her chaotic evil business. She was a very busy kitty, after all.
Once his beloved bastard was out of sight, Canetheus crashed into the couch, catching a glimpse of tired brown eyes and slightly paler than usual skin in the reflection of his living room window. Even his short pink hair looked dull.
He shuddered at the sight, leaning over to yank the curtains closed. None of that.
The TV was turned on almost immediately, to avoid that reflection too. He didn’t even know what was playing, just that it was a good enough distraction. Hearing his own thoughts when he was trying to sleep was just asking for nightmares.
So, with whatever bullshit the TV decided on blaring in the background, Canetheus laid down on his rickety old couch and closed his eyes.
Thank god the sunlight made him feel safe, or he would have noticed the bunny standing over him as he fell asleep
immediately
.