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Chapter Text

Michael dropped the newspaper and backed away from the table, as if putting distance between himself and the news would make its contents less potent.

Most people quit before anything happened to them. Most people quit after the first night, sometimes the second night if they were curious enough to see if they were just too drunk the first time.

But who stayed for all 5 nights before pay day? Was this kid that desperate?

He paced around his small kitchen.  This was his fault. This was his fault. He was the only one who knew the truth about these animatronics. He was the only one who could undo all of this. He was doing his best, crossing the country, moving from location to location to free the souls of the children his father had killed.

He always knew there would be people he couldn’t save. Heck, right now there could be some other poor kid getting his face shoved into a Freddy Fazbear Suit. He shuddered at the thought, remembering all his own close calls.

His eyes flitted to the kitchen clock and he realized with a start that he would be late for his interview. Although, knowing Fazbear Entertainment, it wasn't likely to be much of an interview. He didn't even have to worry about background checks.

That made it all the more easier to be Fritz Smith, a high school dropout who liked dog parks and sweater vests. He'd even gotten his hands on some fake prescription glasses to take extra care to ensure he wouldn't get recognized. There was probably no need for the extra measures and tailored backstory, but Michael had figured he'd have some fun with it. He no longer felt it appropriate.

.................. 

"Well that's just about all the questions I have for you Mister…Schmidt."

"Uh, it's Smith."

"Oh, huh." the guy squinted at the paper and Michael wondered for a horrifying moment if he'd given the wrong one.

"Ah, yep, sorry 'bout that. Still a little shaken up about what happened to poor Jeremy, ya know?"

"Jeremy," Michael repeated, signing the last form, "was that the kid who…" Unable to find euphemistic wording, Michael pointed to his head and the guy nodded.

"So you heard about that? Yeah, not surprised. I'm honestly just glad the kid's still alive, he was a sweet guy. Ya know, I think the only reason that kid stuck with the job was so we wouldn't move anyone else to his shift. Crazy little freak…"

Michael was stuck on the man's previous words. "He's still alive?!"

The man sat up and scooted his chair close to Michael, propping his elbows on the desk and leaning forward.

"He woke up this morning, talking and walking and eating, as if nothin' happened! Do think he'll be likely to have seizures though or somethin', surely, what with half his brain being gone and all."

"Half of his-" Michael couldn’t finish. He swallowed hard and resisted the urge to clamp his hands protectively around his skull.

The man's eyes suddenly grew wide. "Not- not that his injuries were due to anything about the nature of his position though! It was a freak accident, nothing to do with the night guard position, nothing at all, why would you think that? It had nothing to do with us, just a freak accident that's all that was-"

The man was getting out of breath from talking too fast, his face growing red and his brow folding over beads of sweat.

"Um, I know, I know."

Know that that's complete and utter bull crap.

The man visibly relaxed, leaning back in his chair and scooting away from the desk.

"I haven't changed my mind about wanting the job," Michael continued, "If that's what you're worried about…" 

The man cleared his throat. "Well… I wouldn't want you to…get swept up in all that…superstitious stuff, ya know?"

"Of course not."

.................. 

This had to be one of the dumbest decisions Michael Afton had ever made. And boy was that saying something.

He chewed his gum vigorously, though this time it did nothing to calm his nerves. He spit it out into the nearby trashcan when the nurse walked out of the swinging door to his right.

"Mr. Fitzgerald will see you now."

He stood, almost dropping the cheap bouquet he'd had resting on his lap. He felt ashamed of his pitiful attempt at well wishes, but it was the best he could do with how little time he gave himself to think this decision over before he could change his mind.

He followed the nurse down a neat hallway, it's clean, cream walls broken up by the occasional abstract painting. The nurse stopped to the right of an open door and gestured with his head.

"As I said before, he's been having trouble remembering some people. So don't… don't push him okay?"

"Don't worry, I won't." The words left a bitter taste in Michael's mouth. He still wasn't entirely sure what he came here to do, but he was certain of one thing: Jeremy probably wouldn't appreciate it.

He crossed the threshold quickly, mustering up everything he had in him to keep his back straight and demeanor relaxed.

"Jeremy," the nurse said from behind Michael, "This is Fritz Smith, he's- well, I'll let him introduce himself."

The nurse nodded towards him and Michael cleared his throat, holding the flowers out to the teen in the hospital bed.

"Hey Jeremy. Uh it's me, Fritz, your cousin. We uh… basically grew up together?"

Jeremy just stared blankly at him, not even breaking eye contact when he reached out and accepted the wilting gift.

"I wanted to see you earlier but... I had an interview at Freddy's. Got the new night guard position there. The hours'll be killer but... you already knew that." Michael hoped his message was getting across with his eyes. The nurse wouldn't leave unless Jeremy "recognized" him, but what could he possibly expect? Feeling a little at a loss Michael was about to drop the whole thing when Jeremy's face lit up with a smile. 

"Fritz! Yeah, of course I remember you, so good to see you man!" 

Michael tried to mirror Jeremy's enthusiasm, perking up his shoulders and voice. "It's been too long! Wish it was under other circumstances," Michael gestured to the hospital in general, "but I'm just glad you pulled through. That accident sounded pretty bad. So glad to see you're okay." 

Michael almost began to feel bad for pretending to be the relative of a potential amnesiac but something in Jeremy's smile was tight. Expectant. He was waiting too. 

"And you're working at Freddy's? Man, we used to have so much fun going there as kids. Sadly, it really is a shell of what it once was." 

Just then another nurse came in and whispered to Jeremy's. After a quick nod the second nurse left and Jeremy's took a step forward with a smile. 

"So good to see you recognize your cousin Jeremy. I'm going to have to step out for just a bit but I'll be right back." He nodded to Michael before ducking out but leaving the door open. It was the best Michael was gonna get. 

"I may not have the best memory right now," Michael swung his head back to Jeremy's bed as the teen spoke, "but I know I don't have any cousins named 'Fritz Smith'."

Michael let his shoulders relax and he took a careful step forward.

"Yeah, sorry about that. I just needed to pretend to be a relative so they'd let me see you."

Jeremy cocked an eyebrow at that. "And why would a stranger need to see me?"

Now that was the question wasn't it. Michael pulled up the chair to the edge of the bed and took a seat.

He tried multiple times to begin speaking but nothing would come. Why was Michael here? To apologize? To find out what Jeremy remembers? To try to convince him it was all in his head? Or maybe he wanted to see the survivor with his own eyes. Maybe he wanted to know how he did it.

Michael must have let too much show in his face because Jeremy's thin brows furrowed in careful thought.

"Who are you?" Michael met Jeremy's eyes again. They were a pale blue, dull, and almost lifeless. Still, Jeremy looked more intrigued than upset or scared.

"My name is Michael. I've worked at a couple Fazbear locations myself. I, uh, know a bit about why it's a…hazardous work environment."

Jeremy's gaze dragged over Michael slowly, head to toe and back again.

"You do know, don't you. About how they…come to life?"

"Yeah, and not just that "free-roam" PR crap they tell everyone. But you don't need me to tell you that."

"No, I don't."

 Michael shifted in his seat, somehow feeling guilty for the fact.

No, not somehow. This is his fault. He's the reason Jeremy was in the hospital with half of his freaking brain gone.

"Yeah, I…I know a bit about why this is all happening. I've been going from location to location trying to fix this, and I was on my way here. I could have taken the job instead of you and… but I couldn't get here soon enough. I'm the reason this happened to you."

Michael dropped his gaze. He'd finally said aloud, what had been rattling around in his brain since he read that newspaper article. If only he'd gotten there sooner, if only Jeremy had waited, things would be a lot different right now.

Michael met Jeremy's eyes when he couldn't stand the silence anymore. Jeremy hadn't moved, probably because it would hurt if he did, but he spoke loudly and clearly.

"The reason this happened to me, Michael, is because I wasn't being careful enough on my last night."

Jeremy didn't falter. There wasn't a trace of a lie in him. No harbored anger, nothing pointed towards Michael in any way.

He thought back to the day his brother had died, how desperate he had been to blame someone else.

Jeremy wasn't like that.

"The Mangle got to me… that's how this happened. I don't know who you are or how you seem to know about all of this, but you have to understand that."

Michael didn't say anything. What could he say?

"That and," Jeremy continued, "I want you to tell me. Tell me everything you know."

"No!" A spike of adrenaline sent Michael to his feet, metal chair scraping harshly against the grainy floor.

Jeremy's heart monitor beeped urgently and Michael instantly stepped back while the boy gathered himself.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean t-"

"Why not?"

Jeremy huffed, a little out of breath, clutching his hands together in his lap.

"Why not??" Michael repeated. Was this guy serious?

"You do not want to be more involved than you already are. C'mon, you have an out, you should walk away from this while you still can-"

"Only half of me can walk away from this, Michael!"

That shut him up.

Jeremy reached up with a finger and tapped lightly against his bandaged head.

"I'm not going anywhere. Now… tell me everything."

Chapter Text

"What are the chances we can get a drink first?" Michael had sat back down and was doing a bad job of resisting the urge to finally tell someone everything.  

Jeremy tapped his head again. "No drinking." 

"Oh right… are you even old enough to drink?" 

Jeremy frowned. "I'm going to pretend you didn't ask me that. Now. Stop stalling."  

"And why should I tell you anything, hm?"  

Jeremy just stared at him. The kid's stare was really starting to unnerve him. It was just so open and expectant. Like he was counting on Michael, but not dependent.  

"Because you need to." 

Michael didn't know for whose sake he meant, but both interpretations seemed to track. He sighed. This seemed like something he would regret later, but finally being able to share everything he had uncovered by himself over the years was…a little too tempting.  

He glanced out the door. No one would come by.  

He sighed. "Do you want the long or short version?" 

Jeremy paused and for what seemed like the first time the whole visit, broke his eyes away from Michael's in favor of the ceiling, considering.  

"Short version…then fill in."  

"Okay…" Michael swallowed to regain his composure. He couldn't lose it now. Not here. He'd been doing a good job of stomaching it all these years, and now here he was dumping it all on a teenager because he was too weak to carry it alone.  

"I'm ready." Jeremy said with a firm nod and a stern glance. It was so needlessly said and yet exactly what Michael needed to hear. He believed Jeremy. Somehow, this felt okay.  

So, Michael Afton opened his mouth and told his story.  

.................. 

"So…you'd already worked as a technician in one location…and then you chose to go work at another one the very next week?"  

The nurse had returned with lunch for Jeremy, leaving again so they could converse in privacy. Jeremy was noisily scraping every last ounce from his pudding cup, licking his spoon thoughtfully. He was taking the news surprisingly well, again, more curious than upset or disturbed.  

"I…had to figure out what was going on." 

"Mmm, I know the feeling."  

For some reason that made Michael shudder. It was Jeremy's resolve. For whatever reason, Jeremy was as dead set on finding out the truth behind all this as Michael was but…perhaps even more determined.

Jeremy was choosing this of his own free will, not because he was chasing his psycho father across the country, trying to fix the messes left behind. Jeremy actually wanted to know as much as he felt he needed to. It was daunting to say the least. To see that in somebody.  

"Okay look," Michael scooted his chair closer to the bed, suddenly wanting to get right to the point.  

"We both know the animatronics are possessed, or something like that. Don't really know what or how, but there is definitely something sentient and really alive about them. More than just moving bits of machinery. Some of them…well…spoke to me. Like, actually talking to me. Did they ever speak to you?"  

Jeremy closed his eyes and frowned in concentration. "I don't think so, not aloud anyway. But so many voices in my head. And I started having dreams…"  

It was the way Jeremy said "dreams" and Michael understood.  

"Yeah, same here on that one."  

Jeremy finally set his spoon down and leveled Michael with a serious stare. "So…you think so too right? The children- 

"All those incidents of missing kids" Michael filled in with a nod. He'd made that connection years ago, and he figured his father also had something to do with the…possessions but… he wasn't about to tell Jeremy that.  

"But that still doesn't tell us what happened to them, or how they got like this."  

Jeremy's eyes left Michael's to graze across the ceiling, deep in thought. Michael watched his mouth open and close as if uncertain about his next words.  

"You know, I have half a mind to try to solve this, but the other…" Jeremy trailed off, gingerly patting the bandages wrapped tightly around his skull.  

Ah, Michael thought. Here’s the part where he says he can’t risk dying again and to leave him alone forever. That was honestly what he’d expected from the start. Jeremy wouldn’t look at him, and he hoped it wasn’t out of some weird form of pity. If he no longer wanted anything to do with this, Michael just wanted him to hurry up and say so. 

“And the other?” Michael began, prompting him to finish. 

Jeremy’s eyes flicked down to his, a strange expression furrowing his brow. 

“The other half is in a lab two doors down.” 

Michael stared, dumbfounded, before realizing that his earlier comment… Jeremy had just told a joke. And it went completely over Michael’s head. 

The whole thing felt so out of place, and was just so stupid, that for the first time in a long time, Michael laughed. It burst out of his lips almost against his will, a short bubble of laughter that filled the room and made Michael's head light.  

"Are you serious man?" He couldn't find the words. "How can you joke about- what the heck?!"  

Jeremy was laughing too, a smaller, more restrained one, but his smile was wide and the glint in his eye was unmistakable.  

Michael was then struck by the easing realization that Jeremy was…normal. He wasn't a quivering mess under blankets haunted by nightmares, or a raging ball of fear telling Michael to get out and leave him alone. Or maybe that made Jeremy abnormal. But either way he seemed...okay, despite everything he had gone through, despite everything he was facing. 

Michael realized too that Jeremy was probably the only person who could even come close to understanding what Michael was going through. That fact was both exhilarating and comforting as they tried to stifle their fit of nervous laughter.   

"Thanks," Michael said as he finally eased his breathing and swallowed the last of his giggles.

He glanced at the clock and saw that two hours had gone by, the glint of the setting sun flashing back in his eyes. He couldn't remember the last time he had spoken to someone like this. He looked back to Jeremy and was met with a kind smile. Michael couldn't remember the last time anyone had ever looked at him like that.  

When Jeremy's smile parted to speak, Michael's heart dropped at his words,  

"Well, I'm not sure I can go on for much longer, Michael," 

No, already? Please, not yet!  

"But I will say this," Jeremy held up a finger in warning, marking the importance of his next words.  

"What happened to those kids was no accident."  

Michael's blood turned to ice in his veins. He felt frozen where he sat, as if any wrong move would give him away. Did Jeremy know? Did he know what happened to those children and who's responsible? Does that mean he knew who Michael was? No, there was no way. Even if Jeremy knew, there was no way to connect it back to Michael. Michael swallowed and forced himself to speak, he had to know what Jeremy knows.  

"No accident? Did the company-" 

"I'm sorry Mister Smith, but you'll have to let Jeremy rest now." Almost as if on cue, Jeremy's nurse came back and practically picked Michael up out of his chair and ushered him towards the door. He was pushing him away from Jeremy, away from answers. Michael felt himself growing frantic.  

"Wait, we aren't done yet! Let me just-" 

"Sorry Michael," Jeremy cut in. Michael met Jeremy's eyes and felt a sharp twist of shame in his chest. Jeremy looked exhausted. How had he not noticed before? How had he not recognized the strain the conversation had been putting on him? Michael realized how selfish he'd been and could say nothing as he let the nurse push him out the door.  

It wasn't till he was halfway across the parking lot that Michael noticed he was missing his wallet. After frantically patting himself down a third time, he turned to head back to the hospital only to see Jeremy's nurse jogging towards him.  

Michael just stared, feeling a little awkward, as he waited for the nurse to reach him. Slightly out of breath, the man held out Michael's wallet.  

"Jeremy… said you'd left this behind. It's yours right?"  

"Yeah, thanks." Michael took it and slipped it into his back pocket, but the nurse made no move to leave.  

Instead, he stuck his hand out and Michael shook it firmly.  

"Thanks for coming to see him. Judging by how long you two were talking I'd say you had a lot of catching up to do."  

"Yeah, well, I feel bad for over working him. I should have been more considerate of his condition."  

To his surprise, the man just waved dismissively. "Nah, you're fine. Honestly, it was good for him, he's barely spoken. It really did him good to finally have some family visit." 

Now that threw him off guard. 

"His…his family hasn't come to see him yet?"  

The man buzzed his lips and shook his head. "Disappointing, right? They only live in the next town over, and they've responded to messages and requests. Guess they just couldn’t be bothered. It's been what, three days now?"  

Michael felt his own emotions mirror the man's frustration but couldn’t think of anything to say besides, "That…sucks."  

"Yeah, well, thanks again." And with a slight wave the man jogged back to the building.  

Michael finally shook off thoughts of Jeremy and his crappy family as he climbed into the driver's seat. He rested his forehead on the steering wheel, trying to wrap his head around what he was about to do. Again. He'd drive back to that pizzeria, get out of his car and head into the building, walk into the locker room, pull on a security uniform, and clip on a badge with a name that wasn't his own like he's done dozens of times before.

He suddenly sat up, heart skipping a beat as he remembered the incriminating nature of the documents he had stuffed into his wallet. Fake state documents, multiple IDs, a list of contacts, you name it.

Michael fumbled to get it out of his pocket and pried the leather apart with shaky fingers. As soon as he opened it something stark white caught his eye and he pulled it out of the front sleeve.  

It was a torn piece of napkin with a message scrawled in ink: 

          Call me when you start your shift tonight.  

          I'm serious.  

          Jeremy (###) ###-#### 

Michael found himself laughing again. That airy bubble that rushed past his lips without even thinking.  

Who even is this guy? Why does he insist on being so involved?  Michael couldn't understand it. Then, with a frightening sense of resignation, he decided he didn’t need to. For the first time in his life he felt something besides dread the night of another shift at Freddy's.

Michael set the note down in his lap and started the car, metal plating rattling as he left the hospital parking lot. He rolled down the windows and turned on the radio, trying to let the reality of what just happened sink in. He wasn't alone anymore. For the first time in a long time, Michael Afton felt okay.  

Chapter Text

Michael began to feel a bit of the usual panic return as he situated himself at his new desk. He hadn't been briefed much on the position, go figure, but he had been told he could listen to the recordings they have for new employees. 

Michael nearly swallowed his gum when a familiar voice crackled a few "hello"s out from the speaker. 

"Uh, hello? Hello, hello! Uh hello and welcome to your new summer job at the new and improved Freddy Fazbear's Pizza."  

No way. It was the same guy! 

At this point, Michael was standing  and leaning over the desk, listening closely as the voice broke down another nonsense reason why the animatronics act strangely. 

That Michael was expecting. What he wasn't expecting was the new "Toy animatronics" apparently being outfitted with facial recognition software connected to a criminal database. He resisted the urge to look at his reflection in the tv monitors stacked in the corners of the office.  

The charges didn't go through...there was no way his face would be in the system...right?  

"...so hey, we've given you an empty Freddy Fazbear head, problem solved!" 

Michael gave the Faz-head in his hands a once over. Why couldn't he have had this at the last location??

He practiced taking it on and off a couple times and realized he'd have to take it off in order to wind up the music box. He practiced whipping it off and back on quickly after that.  

"Uh, by now I'm sure you've noticed the older models sitting in the back room..." 

Michael was taking careful note of the way the older models behaved when he remembered a crucial fact he had learned at the last location he worked: the animatronics get more restless as the week goes on. He had just dropped himself near the end of the week, giving himself no time to slowly get accustomed to the way things work before they got more dangerous.  

He heard a light bumping sound to his right. Something crawling in the vents. Wonderful. 

He glanced down at his desk where a wrinkled piece of napkin was carefully smoothed out.  

No, he would not be calling Jeremy. It had been a nice thought, the idea of having an ally to talk him through the night, but he thought back to the exhausted look on Jeremy's face before Michael left. Yeah, no, not doing that.  

Michael flicked through the cameras again and whipped the Faz-head on as Toy Bonnie crawled into the room. He figured he was doing alright. Granted, things were moving a bit fast for 12:45 am and he hadn't ever dealt with this many fully sized animatronics before, but he was feeling fairly confident that he would make it.

He had worked at two locations already after all. He would definitely make it through the night.  

.................. 

Michael Afton was, in fact, not going to make it through the night.  

It seemed that in the short span of 5 minutes, all the animatronics, including some that Phone Guy failed to mention, were awake and firing on all pistons.  

He quickly wound up the music box, guessing how much was enough, before throwing on the head, knowing there was already another one in the room. He choked on the stale air under the Faz-head trying to catch his breath.  

"The employees have just been referring to it as The Mangle" 

Just then he flashed his light down the hallway to reveal the twisted collection of broken metal and plastic that Michael now had the pleasure of knowing the name of. Sounds of radio static echoed into the office as it unhinged it's terrifyingly large jaw.  

Oh heck no. Alright, that's it, screw it.  

After winding up the music box one more time (he did NOT like the lack of information on that one), he paused the recordings, picked up the phone, and dialed the number.  

Michael desperately continued checking lights and winding the music box as the phone rang, though it didn't ring for long. 

"You're almost an hour in." 

Michael wasn't sure if that was an objective statement or an accusation. He decided it was the latter when Jeremy followed with "I told you to call me as soon as-"  

"I know, I know, I was just-" 

"Trying to do it yourself?" 

"Oh come on, dude," Michael lowered his monitor and gasped, flipping the head on as flashing lights revealed a withering Chica animatronic had entered the room. As the lights slowly returned to normal, Jeremy's voice whispered quietly from the speaker.  

"It's okay, they're gone."  

Michael took off the head slowly, glancing around noticing he was right.  

"You have to pick up on audio cues fast." Jeremy said before Michael could ask. "They never stay in the office for very long, getting back to winding the music box is more important than making sure they're long gone."  

"How did you survive?" Michael finally let the question out to hang in the dusty air.  

The silence lasted only a moment before a light "Hello?" echoed in what felt like every corner of the pizzeria. Michael had learned very quickly what that voice meant but there was still something so haunting about such a seemingly normal child's voice ringing down the dark hallways. He felt the terror begin to creep at the edges of his sanity when Jeremy's voice came clearly over the phone 

"Ugh, I hate that battery-snatching gremlin. You can honestly punt that thing down the hall, don't even let him bother you."  

Michael let out a shaky laugh and nodded, mentally facepalming when he remembered Jeremy couldn't see it.  

"Yeah, okay. What else?"  

Jeremy walked Michael through his own master plan of not-dying and Michael listened and followed as intently as he could. It was extremely precise, and dreadfully unforgiving. Jeremy stressed that if after winding the music box an animatronic was in the office, he HAD to whip on the Faz-head immediately or he was dead.  

"Trust me, I've narrowly survived enough close calls to know, you do NOT wanna be slow on this one." 

If something wasn't working quite as well, Jeremy would offer suggestions and Michael would make adjustments. Michael would be lying if he said he eventually found his groove; he was scrambling madly the entire time, between checking vents, flashing his torch down the main hall and occasionally using it to bat the little balloon goblin off the table.  

"Michael, you're amazing!"  

"Hmmn?" He tried not to let the compliment trip him up, though he didn't think he succeeded very well.  

"I mean, yeah 11 animatronics is a lot, I know that, but to me it sounds like they're... more active tonight than I've ever has to deal with. And...well, you're doing it!"  

Michael tried to ignore the heat creeping into his cheeks and checked the clock for first time he dared to since calling Jeremy.  

5:49 AM 

No way...he was almost done! It was almost as if the animatronics could sense it too, coming at him more relentlessly in combinations nearly impossible to deal with. Struggling to bring himself to focus again, he had almost tuned out any distractions completely until Jeremy's voice broke through, sounding frantic.  

"Michael, what's that sound?"  

 Michael didn't have to strain his ears much to hear it, the tinkling melody of a familiar nursery rhyme.  

"Michael, when was the last time you wound the music box?" 

Bonnie was still in the room, he couldn’t move yet. But he knew what he would see if he flipped up his monitor.  

But there was nothing he could do. He couldn't wind it back up now, and according to Jeremy there was nothing else to keep it at bay. He couldn't even run at this point. He was screwed.  

He plopped himself down in the chair and stared dumbly out into the darkness. He couldn't do it. In the end he couldn't help anyone.  

"I'm sorry" he choked out of his tightening throat to everyone and no one. At least, that's what he thought until he remembered there was someone who could hear him.  

"Michael?!"  

He sounded so afraid. Michael thought back to Jeremy's tired face. The way the corners of his mouth weakly tugged his lips into a smile. The hospital gown and the beeping monitor.  

This wasn’t fair.  

"Hey, thanks for the help Jeremy." Michael pulled off the Faz-head and reached his hand to hover a finger over the phone hook.  

"What?" He sounded breathless on the other end. This was the least Michael could do.  

"Get some rest."  

Click.  

..................

Jeremy's heart stopped when the line went dead.  

"Michael?" He said weakly into the receiver.  

The urgent beeping of his monitor was drowned in the sound of radio static, distorted sounds and unintelligible words filling his ears and overwhelming his thoughts.

Memories were thrashing around in his mind, flashes of his last shift in the dead of night. Or was it day? Balloons and streamers, stacks of presents and laughing children.  

He blinked away flashes of colored bracelets around their wrists when something in the window caught his eye. He tried stepping closer but when he did he was met with his own reflection in the window beside his hospital bed.  

He started at himself like that, for just a moment, eyes lingering on the bandages wrapped tightly around his head before drifting down to the phone clutched tightly in his hands.  

For some reason it reminded him of Michael's hands, the way they wound tightly around each other as Michael told his story. Well, some of it anyway. Jeremy knew he was keeping a lot to himself which was fine by him. He was keeping a lot to himself too.  

"You won't hurt him, will you?" He said to his reflection. "I think he's really trying to help."  

Her face appeared in the window next to his. It was the little girl he'd been dreaming about ever since the incident. Except this time, despite the tear tracks streaking down her face, she didn't look sad or scared. She looked angry. She said nothing until her image rippled away with the first splashes of rain on the glass.  

I need more than just your word.  

She didn't believe him.  

Before he was even aware of what was happening, he was leaping out of bed and running out into the hallway at breakneck speed. He narrowly dodged the drooping gaze of groggy nurses and darted quickly through doorways. It took everything in him to hold still as he waited for the last hallway of a side exit to clear.  

Please, he thought desperately, please, please let me get there soon enough. It felt like forever before he was able to slip out unnoticed. As soon as he was out the door he took off into the empty parking lot.  

He suddenly felt like laughing. Maybe it was the natural rush born of rebellion, or maybe it was just the cold shock of the wet asphalt on his bare feet. Maybe it was the realization that he could run.  

He didn't know exactly what in their short meeting together convinced him to head right back towards that nightmarish place, but Jeremy just hoped Michael could hold on just a little longer.  

Chapter Text

Michael had expected his life to flash before his eyes. 

He expected to see the world's most depressing rerun of a life showcased right there in the office. 

He expected to re-experience the birthday party, that would have been the cherry on top. 

He expected an unending torrent of regret to swallow him whole.  

But for some reason, all he could think about was: 

"Michael, you're amazing!" In Jeremy's voice. 

He sighed as he flashed his torch down the hall once more for good measure, thinking about what Jeremy might be doing right now.  

Was he sad? Was he sorry? Does he hate him? Did he even care? Would he remember him?   

He replayed that conversation in his head, he figured it was a better way to spend his last moments as the tinkling music seemed to grow louder as his impending doom drew closer.  

"Michael, you're amazing!... yeah 11 animatronics is a lot, I know that, but to me it sounds like they're... more active tonight than I've ever had to deal with. And...well, you're doing it!"  

Then suddenly something wasn't sitting right with him.  

11? 

Michael frowned as he flicked the torch on and off again. Why did that sound wrong? 

He counted: 

4 old models 

3 new ones 

The Puppet 

The Mangle 

Balloon Boy 

That was only 10. 

He counted again:  

4 old models 

3 new ones 

To-be Killer 

Pure nightmare fuel 

Gremlin Boy 

Why did Jeremy say there were- 

Just then the table toppled over and Michael leaped back to avoid getting stabbed by its edge.  

Two tendril-like appendages reached up from over the top and The Puppet came into view. Its ghastly face was white with holes where the eyes should be and two deep blue streaks running down it's rosy cheeks like tears.  

Though he knew it wouldn't do him any good, Michael found himself backing up anyway, pushing off his palms and heels until his back was against the wall. 

It slunk closer slowly, limbs dragging limply against the tile and drew itself up to full height. Which... wasn't that tall if he was being honest, but it may as well have been goliath as he cowered in his corner.  

Then something in the darkness behind caught Michael's eye. He dared not take his eyes off the Puppet, but then there was a flash, again, in the darkness behind.  

Michael felt his stomach drop impossibly further as a wave of familiarity dawned on him.  

11 . There was one more that hadn't shown up that night. Another flash and this time the puppet turned away, also sensing the new presence in the room. Michael flicked his eyes back down the hall where empty eyes bore back into his soul.  

There was no way it was here too.   

Suddenly the puppet jumped back, making Michael startle backwards, thumping the back of his head against the wall.  

Before his eyes was the ghastly visage of the Golden Freddy suit.  

Michael slowly drew in a breath to hold as the familiar, garbled words filled the silence: 

  It's me. It's me. It's me. It's me.  

He dared not move as suit and the puppet practically stared each other down in, as far as Michael knew, a standoff for deciding who got to use him as a whack-a-mole mallet first.  

Michael had to stop his breath from audibly catching when the ghostly words changed:  

Not him. Not him. Not him.  

For an inanimate object whose face was perpetually frozen in a smile, the Puppet looked surprisingly angry. Its body was almost vibrating while Golden Freddy just sat there, empty as the day Michael first saw it, but doing something , that much was certain.  

Minutes went by, but they may as well have been years with the way they dragged on, and Michael was beginning to feel a little antsy.  

Experimentally, he moved his arm ever so slightly to the right. No reaction from the animatronics. Feeling even bolder he scooted himself a little to the side. Still nothing.  

Moving only as quickly as he dared, Michael crawled behind Golden Freddy and around to the main hall. When he was well within its shadow he stood up and turned around, bolting for the exit. 

He'd take his chances with the others.  

Michael had nearly reached the opposite end of the Main Hall when the sight of bright yellow and exposed wires made his heart stop. 

The old, broken down Chica turned its wide eyes on him and Michael let out a horrified scream as he tried to stop his momentum before he crashed right into it. 

He only managed to slip and slam his back against the wall. He knocked his head against something on his way down to the floor and clutched the back of his head, trying not to make any more noise. 

By the time his vision cleared, Chica was leaping at him, jaw open wide, and screeching.  

Michael had just managed to scramble to his knees when a blur of white rushed across his vision, taking the withered animatronic with it. Michael got to his feet and almost toppled over again when he registered just what it was he was looking at.  

It was Jeremy Fitzgerald. All lanky limbs and blond hair, his brow set in concentration as he pinned Chica down with a folded up party table.  

"Jeremy?! Wh- how-- but I was just--"  

"Just hanging up on me?" He unfolded one of the legs and stood up, keeping his weight in the center as Chica struggled beneath him.  

"Yeah, I headed here as soon as you pulled that ." 

"But that was only...How did you get here so fast?!"  

Jeremy was occupied with trying to tug a nearby cabinet down. "It's the law, you have to move out of the way when an ambulance has their sirens on."  

"You took an ambulance here?!"  

The cabinet fell with an ear-ringing clang, effectively weighing Chica down enough for Jeremy to step off and snag Michael's wrist.  

"C'mon, let's go." Without another word he took off in a dead sprint down the hall, dragging Michael with him.   

"Okay, no, seriously Jeremy, what are you doing here ?"  

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm here to help you!"  

"Help me?? Jeremy, you're not even wearing pants!"  

Jeremy looked down at the now frayed ends of his hospital gown.  

"Dang, didn't think you'd be so picky about the wardrobe. Didn't realize formal wear was required for saving your life!" 

Michael began to feel very self-conscious about looking. He tried to remind himself that he had nothing to be embarrassed about. 

Jeremy was probably wearing something under that, right? Besides, it's not like—he had seen Jeremy in the gown before...it's just that there was a blanket covering that time... It's just legs, Michael, what's your problem?!   

When they made it to the party room, Michael saw the night had turned into a pale-blue morning. Bubbles of condensation gathering on the front glass doors cast shadows on a polished, plastic surface. Toy Freddy was standing between them and the exit, moving toward them with jerky movements.  

Michael caught Jeremy eyeing another table, and he tugged him ever so slightly closer to him as a way of saying oh heck no, you're not doing that again!  

"Maybe we can make a break for it in opposite directions," Jeremy whispered to him as they backed up slowly, Michael felt pressure building in his fingertips as Jeremy's grip on his wrist tightened.  

"What if he jumps at you ?" Michael whispered harshly back, and he almost yelped at how much tighter Jeremy's hand squeezed.  

Just when their backs hit the wall, a chime rang throughout the building. The eight-note melody filled their ears as Toy Freddy froze, righted itself, and walked back to its spot on the stage. 

They made it to the 6am reboot.  

Michael heard Jeremy cry out in relief beside him, and Michael couldn't stop the sharp laugh of triumph that escaped him.  

Threat averted, they slumped to the floor breathing hard and reciprocating the occasional laugh of disbelief.   

After a few moments, Michael stood and helped Jeremy to his feet and they went back, returning everything to its place. After, Michael caught Jeremy staring at a certain corner of the party room.

It was difficult to wait quietly while Jeremy just stared and took deep breaths. He wanted to ask, he wanted to help, he wanted to do something for him.  

When Jeremy turned, Michael felt the reflexive urge to look away, but he couldn't.  

Michael didn’t know if it was the adrenaline, the glint in Jeremy's eyes, or the rising sun between them, but... 

His heart was pounding, and he felt a tingling sensation across his skin that wouldn't settle. Jeremy was looking at him, and Michael, for some strange reason, felt that maybe his life could be something different. 

He felt like he was standing on the edge of something, and all he had to do was lean forward and he could plunge head first into it.  

It was frightening, and exhilarating, and so, so tempting.   

..................

Hospital personnel and police officers arrived shortly after, Jeremy deflecting all their accusations, pretending to have "no idea how he got here". 

"I really am sorry to cause all this trouble," Jeremy continued as they ushered him out of the building. The contrast in character was amazing, and Michael was a little intimidated by how easily Jeremy seemed to pull it off.  

Michael was asked some questions too of course, though he wasn't sure he sounded half as convincing as Jeremy did.  

As much as Michael tried to hold onto that feeling from just a few moments ago, he knew he had to fold it up and put it away.  

That was something he could not have.  

When he got back to his apartment and began the usual internal debate of 'breakfast or bed?', his phone rang.  

"Fritz?" The manager's voice was more garbled than it should have been, as if he was far from the phone and shouting his message. 

"Heard there was a problem this morning. I was told about the whole thing and I'm sure that situation with the runaway patient must've shaken ya up but uh, can I still count on ya for night shift?"

Michael minutely squeezed the phone in his hand.  

What was the point? What would he even do? Sure this night was bound to be a breeze compared to last, but what good could he possibly do? He hadn't found a way to free these souls or get any clues as to where his father went. He was getting nowhere.  

But what else could he do?  

"I'll be there."  

.................. 

Jeremy was exhausted.  

He had been bombarded with questions and tests and more questions the moment he had been found, and had been carefully observed from the moment he got back to the hospital. 

He handled all that just fine, and had them all pretty darn convinced that this 'episode' was just a fluke and nothing more, expected of his condition and unlikely to reoccur. Jeremy had been certain he could get away with it, no consequences.  

Then his parents had shown up.  

After almost a week of ignored calls and dismissed requests, they had finally shown up.

Because Jeremy caused a scene. Did something that might ruin their precious public image .

His mother had laid it on thick though, the doting, caring act. She'd rushed into his room with tiny, stiletto steps, perfectly coiffed hair bouncing in time with her designer purse in the crook of her elbow.

She'd  snuggled up against his face without actually touching him, so as not to smear her makeup, and spewed a stream of made up excuses as to why she hadn't come sooner.  

His father hadn't seen the need to act and for that Jeremy figured he should have been grateful, though it would have been funny to see.  

In a weird way, Jeremy had been glad to see them. But he knew they were only there because there was something that needed to be fixed.  

Jeremy almost felt sorry that he wouldn't get to see the looks on their faces when it was discovered that he was gone again. Not in an ambulance this time, so he was much harder to track down. 

It felt good to be in normal clothes again, though he wished he had something warmer. Jeremy shuddered a little as he once again opened the glass front doors of Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria.

Jeremy approached the front desk slowly.  

"Um, excuse me, I'm looking for-" Jeremy stopped himself, realizing that Michael was probably going by an alias. Had Michael told him what it was? There was no way Jeremy could remember.  

"The night guard," Jeremy finished.  

The worker leaned lazily against the counter, eyeing Jeremy up and down. She must have been newly hired too, Jeremy didn't recognize her. But then again, that wasn't saying much was it?  

She cocked an eyebrow at him and stood up straight.  

"That maniac? He just finished his shift, hasn't left yet though, still at the lockers."  

As if on cue, the door behind her swung open, letting in the rumbling sounds of the staff washing machine.  

The security guard snorted. "Well speak of the devil, here he is. This is the guy you're looking for, right?"  

Sure enough, out stepped Michael, still in his uniform, fastening a cap on his head and adjusting a pair of glasses on the bridge of his nose. 

When he noticed the two, he lowered a quizzical look on Jeremy.  

"Jeremy? What are you doing here?" Jeremy wished he could give a straight answer, preferably with no other ears to the conversation.  

Jeremy turned back to the security guard and nodded. "Yeah, that's him. Guess we'll be going now."

The guard's expression had morphed from one of blatant disinterest to suspicious curiosity. "Jeremy. You're not.. like, Jeremy Fitzgerald are you?! Like, the guy that-" 

Taking in Jeremy's appearance again, eyes lingering on the obvious stitches in his head, the girl seemed to have put it together herself.  

"Noooo waaaay." She slapped a hand across her forehead. "Did you really, like, get half of your- What was it like? What is it like? Can you still, like, think normal? Do you have-" 

"Aw crap , I left something in my car!" Michael groaned loudly as he moved around the counter, effectively cutting her off. "It needs to go back in the office. Jeremy, wanna head back to get it with me?"

Jeremy hurried out the doors without even a nod, hearing Michael slightly jog to catch up to him.  

"Man, could she be any more insensitive?" Michael said as they slowed to a stop at his car. Jeremey absentmindedly ran his hand over the dusty red paint.  

"This a Ford Mustang?" Jeremy asked, turning to look at the man.  

Michael frowned but didn't otherwise acknowledge the change of subject.  

"Yeah, she's old but, uh, runs for the most part."  

Jeremy chuckled, wiping dirt from the window in the shape of faces. "I've always wanted one of these... I was saving up."  

Michael moved around to the trunk and unlocked it, revealing a worn cardboard box of stuffed manila folders.   

"What's all that?" Jeremy curiously opened one and sifted through some of the papers. "Old staff records?" Jeremy turned to Michael with a gasp when he realized what it was. "Have you found anything??"  

Jeremy tried to curb his excitement. He knew how serious this situation was, but he couldn't stop his heart rate from picking up at the thought of getting closer to answers. They hadn't been able to finish the conversation they'd started in his hospital room after all.  

Michael reached over and tucked the papers back into place, closing the folder. "Remember the last thing you said to me at the hospital? How this wasn't an accident? Well, I picked up on that too, and I hoped some of the records here would help me find the one responsible."  

"You think it's just one person?" 

Michael rubbed the back of his neck. "I do."  

Jeremy nodded. He had thought the same thing too. It was funny to think just how much Jeremy had dug up in the past week, and everything he'd uncovered was threatening to bubble out of him and fill the air between them: the murders, the initial arrests, the company's coverups, the name of the man responsible, and his last known location. He kept himself quiet though as Michael covered up the contents of the box with Faz-themed streamers and balloon packs.  

"What are you doing here, Jeremy? Running from the hospital two mornings in a row? Keep that up and they might stick you somewhere you can't break out of." 

"That's what my parents said." 

Michael's eyes flicked over to Jeremy before returning to his work. "Your parents? But I thought-" 

"My parents showed up this morning."  

Michael straightened at that but didn't ask. Jeremy was sure the other man could tell it did not go well.

"They, um… they were told about how I ran off the other night. They… they think that I-" 

"I get it." Michael cut in. He took off his cap and ran a hand through his hair. "Is that why you came back here?"  

Jeremy nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He really didn't think this through. What did he think would happen? What did he even want out of this? 

A beeping sound made Jeremy jump and Michael glanced down at his watch.  

"I've gotta put this back before the other opening shifts start comin'…" He put his cap back on and, scooping up the box in one arm and slamming the trunk closed with the other, turned back towards the diner.  

"I'm sorry about your parents, Jeremy." Then he walked away.  

Jeremy didn't take his eyes off him till he had disappeared behind the doors of Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria. Suddenly the morning air felt colder.  

Jeremy shuddered as a gust of wind blew across the deserted parking lot, picking up a mix of trash and leaves to carry out into the street.  

Why had he come back here? Well that was obvious, Michael was the only person who understood. And Jeremy knew there was more that Michael wasn't telling him. And he wanted to know. 

Ever since he'd met Michael, a part of him had burned with an almost unhinged desire to know everything about this mess he had been inadvertently thrown into. 

Michael claimed his part in it was out of necessity, but Jeremy could tell Michael had chosen this. 

Jeremy wanted to choose it too. As terrifying as discovering the truth felt, Jeremy knew he needed to. And maybe, somehow, he could make this right.  

He glanced down at the band still around his wrist, "Fitzgerald, Jeremy" and lists of ID numbers and a big black barcode. 

With considerable effort he tore it off, stuffing it in his pocket and looking back to the dim light coming from the doors of the pizzeria.  

Jeremy knew what he wanted.  

..................

Jeremy didn’t exactly have a plan for what to say to Michael once he got inside, he just hoped he could get Michael to stay long enough to listen.  

Thinking back on it, he should have had some plan in place for what to do and what to say, but nothing would have prepared him for the sight he was met with on the other side of the doors.  

"I could use some help, you know!" 

"I AM helping, just hold it still!" 

Michael was on the floor, back pressed to the tile, arms outstretched and pushing against Toy Bonnie who was nearly crushing him under its weight.  

" Alert! Alert! Criminal identified. Criminal identified. Alert! Alert!" it beeped in a robotic voice as the girl from earlier unhelpfully batted it on the back with a broom.  

Michael craned his neck back at the sound of the door swinging shut and his hands slipped against Toy Bonnie's smooth chest plate.  

"Jeremy?! What are you doing??"  

Jeremy was wondering the exact same thing as he charged toward the animatronic rabbit and rammed his shoulder against it.  

He lost track of where the bodies tumbled, but he frantically scrambled off the ground to see Michael doing the same as Toy Bonnie continued to beep in alarm.  

"Hey! Don't break it!" The girl yelled to Jeremy, still clutching the broom defensively in front of her. "That's company property!!"  

"Are you kidding me?!" Michael gestured to Bonnie as the animatronic found its footing, eye twitching from the fall.  

" Alert! Alert! Alert! Alert!" It turned to Jeremy, clearly pissed at the tumble it just took, and launched itself towards him, arms outstretched, eyes and smile wide.  

The rush of energy left him. Whatever had possessed him to ram into that rabbit was long gone now, and Jeremy sat frozen in place. 

He heard radio static, felt sharp teeth.  A whispering voice vibrated in his bones as he squeezed his eyes shut. 

And then the sound of crunching metal shocked him into a scream.  

When it was clear he wasn't dead, and the crunching sound continued, Jeremy opened his eyes to see Michael delivering a devastating blow to the animatronic beneath him. 

Bonnie's torso was crushed on the left side, arms still reaching weakly for Jeremy, the beeping slowing. Then the pole-end of the broom stabbed through its eye and it stopped all together.  

Jeremy tried to shake off the shock as Michael placed a foot on Bonnie's head and pulled the broom out, tossing it to the side and breathing hard.  

A small noise to their left turned both their heads to the security guard, her hands still outstretched as if frozen the moment Michael ripped the broom from her hands.  

"You...you broke it!" the security guard shrieked, unfreezing and rushing behind the desk. 

"I'm sorry," But Michael wasn't looking at her. His gaze was fixed on the busted Bonnie beneath him.

"You are so fired! " she said, punching numbers into the front desk landline.  

Before Michael could say anything back, Jeremy grabbed his wrist and tugged him out the door.

"You should consider finding another part-time!" Jeremy shouted back just before the doors closed.  

He didn't stop running till they reached Michael's car, breathing hard and leaning on the passenger's side door before his legs could give out.  

"Michael." Jeremy waited until the other man was looking at him, "That was crazy ! I don't know whether to be upset or laugh!" He threw his arms up to show how amazed he was in the face of their second near-death experience two days in a row.  

Michael removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes with his palms, taking a deep breath before resting his hands on his hips, giving Jeremy an odd look.  

"What?" Jeremy asked because Michael wasn't saying anything, he was just staring.  

"What 'what'?" Michael reflexively shot back as if he hadn't noticed the silence. Maybe he didn't.

"Just...thanks." 

"You too." Then a look crossed his face, and Jeremy could almost feel a tangible wall going up between them.  

Jeremy felt a sudden urgency to continue the conversation before Michael could take off and leave him again.  

"Why did you go back?"  

Michael ignored the question for a moment, tucking the glasses into his shirt before he tilted his head and cocked an eyebrow. "I wanted to get paid." 

"And?" 

"...And I want to buy food." The sentence was pinched and Jeremy knew he was getting defensive.

Jeremy pressed anyway.  

"That's not why."  

Michael threw his hands up. "Oh? Then why do you think , Jeremy? Go ahead, you tell me!"  

"I think you feel stuck." Michael bristled at that, so Jeremy knew he was right. 

"I think you have no idea what to do or where to go next so you do the only thing you've been doing."  

Jeremy reached out and knocked a knuckle against Michael's badge for emphasis.  

"Now I'm telling you there's something we can do." 

"We?" Michael huffed in surprise, pushing Jeremy's hand away. "No, Jeremy, you are done!" 

"Done?? Michael, this isn't over!"  

"For you, it is." Michael turned to walk around the car to the driver's side.  

"Hang on!" Jeremy moved in his way, voice raising in volume. "I want to go with you, why won't you let me?" 

Michael took a step back, but wouldn't meet his eyes.  

"You could have died, Jeremy, this is serious!"  

"Yes, I know it's serious! So why are you trying to do this alone?" 

"It's too dangerous, no one else should get involved!" 

"I'm still here, aren't I?" 

"Well you almost weren’t !"  

He didn't expect Michael to raise his voice so loud. He didn't expect Michael to get so close either. Michael's face was right against his, their noses only a few inches apart, looking dead into each other's eyes.  

Jeremy expected him to look furious .  

Instead, he just looked... sad. Or maybe scared.  

Michael stepped back and curled in on himself, just a little.  

"Jeremy, please." He suddenly sounded exhausted. "Please let me save someone ." 

Jeremy watched Michael hold out his hands and stare at them, fingers trembling slightly before balling into fists and resting at his sides.  

"Please, let me just take you back to the hospital, and I'll drive away."  

Jeremy waited for Michael to meet his eyes again, though the contact quickly broke away when he asked.   

"Where will you go?" 

Michael didn't answer, but his face began scrunching up angrily again.   

"Do you have any leads?"  

"Jeremy—why can't you understand that this has nothing to do with you?!" 

"We've already been over the fact that it does . Now open the door and pull out your map." 

Michael looked back up at that. "What?"  

"Your map. You don't know where to go, but I do. So get out your map and I'll show you. "  

"How could you possibly-"  

"The killer? I know who he is, and I know where he is."   

"What? Even if..." He trailed off, looking down sternly, "Jeremy," 

"Afton"  

Before, Michael couldn't hold Jeremy's gaze for more than a second. Now, Michael's eyes were fixed on his, unblinking, and wide enough to betray what Michael was thinking.  

"The one you've been looking for..." Jeremy guessed, "is William Afton, co-founder of the business. He was the prime suspect for the initial Missing Children's Incident, but the charges were dropped and he was let go. He disappeared shortly after, and the murders continued. I know where he was last seen." 

By now Michael had schooled his expression, he had straightened to his full height and his cutting look under hooded eyes sent pinpricks of cold down Jeremy's back.  

Michael folded his arms. "All that was really in the company's databanks? Just how much did you dig up by nosing around something that's none of your business?" 

Where was this coming from? "How is what you're doing any different?"  

Michael frowned harder, but didn't say anything as he walked slowly to the passenger-side door and opened it. He leaned in, popping the compartment open and pulling out a folded up map.  

Jeremy took it and unfolded it over the rusty hood, taking a quick glance at the legend before finding the spot on the map.  

"Here's the town. There's an old Freddy's Location here, it's shut down though. But we still might be able to find something to help us know where he went."  

Jeremy took a step back so Michael could have a turn squinting at the map, pulling out a pencil from his chest pocket and marking a route.  

As Michael folded up the map and headed for the driver's side of the car, Jeremy snatched his wrist and tugged him back lightly.  

"Michael. If you really wanna save someone, let me come with you."  

Michael looked down at Jeremy's hand on his wrist, then back up at Jeremy, then back down again. Michael grasped Jeremy's hand and pried it off slowly, but then held it there, and squeezed ever so slightly.  

With his hand in Michael's, Jeremy met the man's eyes as the sun rose behind him. Michael gave him a bittersweet smile before parting his lips in a gentle,   

"Okay." 

Neither of them spoke until they both got into the car. 

Michael removed his "Fritz Smith" glasses from his shirt, sticking them in the cup holder before starting the car. He muttered to himself as he backed out and waited for an opening in the lanes to turn left.

Jeremy wasn't sure if it was the soft blush of Michael's cheeks, or the subtle clip in his accent, but Jeremy felt compelled to say something.  

Jeremy plucked the glasses out of the cup holder and slid them on his face. Michael spared him a side glance but otherwise kept his eyes on the road.  

"So this is 'Fritz Smith', huh?" He held the frames in place gently with the tips of his fingers. "You know, you never told me your real last name. You know mine, it's only fair." 

Michael didn't pause for long before mumbling "Schmidt" under his breath.  

"Well, Michael Schmidt," Jeremy whipped the glasses off and stuck them back in the cup holder, grinning at Michael as they sped down the highway.  

"You look good without the glasses." 

Chapter Text

"Okay, now that's just insensitive."  

Michael re-read the article and scanned the black and white picture. There was no mistaking it.  

Coming Soon! Fazbear's Fright: The Horror Attraction! 

Local amusement park is getting ready to scare your socks off with a new attraction based on the unsolved mysteries of Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria.  

Featuring actual relics from the decades old pizzeria, this new attraction is guaranteed to bring back your childhood in the worst possible way!  

For more information, call xxx-xxx-xxxx  

Night Guard wanted! Call xxx-xxx-xxxx  

Michael and Jeremy were sitting in the car reading the paper. They had made it to their destination and were parked near a small shopping center gas station. 

The Freddy's location they came to investigate, which they knew had just closed down, was about half an hour down main street. Turns out the building had since been bought and was now being turned into a Fazbear-themed horror attraction. 

That, Michael and Jeremy had not known.  

Michael leaned back in his seat and blew out a puff of air.  "Well, you know what this means..." He turned to Jeremy who gave him a rueful smile.  

They had actually talked about it at some point during the drive. If getting the info they needed ever required working with more haunted animatronics, Michael would take the job. 

Of course Jeremy said he would still be tagging along to help "see what needed to be seen" but Michael didn't think that was a good idea. 

He didn't tell Jeremy that though.  

Michael smiled back to show he remembered their decision and dug out some quarters from his cup holder.  

"I'll go make the call. Be right back."  

The phone call itself was quick and simple. He was able to schedule an interview that afternoon and was sure he would be hired and working tonight’s shift.  

Yippee.  

Although, seeing as this wasn't technically Fazbear's anymore, maybe these new people actually had some hiring standards.  

He read the ad again. Unlikely.  

Michael dug the map out of his pocket one more time. They were maybe 10 minutes from the closest motel and the pizzeria was a half hour from there.  

Michael yawned and weakly slapped a hand against his cheek. Despite Jeremy’s persistent offers, Michael had managed to stay behind the wheel the whole trip so far. 

He may have nodded off once or twice, but Jeremy had been either asleep or staring off into space too much to notice. 

He did need something to keep him up though: caffeine pills, more gum, whatever he could find at the little food mart.  

He jogged back to let Jeremy know, but when he got to the car the passenger door was open and Jeremy was gone.  

Michael ducked his head inside to check the back seat. No Jeremy.  

What was worse, the inside of the car was a mess. Every compartment was open—napkins, flyers, and spare change thrown across the seats and the dash.  

Michael habitually patted his back pocket to make sure his wallet was safely there before double checking all their things.  

Nothing was taken. Everything was still here...except Jeremy.  

Slamming the door shut, Michael practically spun in circles scanning the parking lot. It was big for the small shopping center it was meant for and mostly empty.  

“Jeremy?” He tried calling. What had even happened? Did someone break into the car? Did Jeremy run from them? Or was he taken...?  

“Jeremy!” He called again, a million possibilities rushing through his mind.  

He looked to the gas station—they had to have security cameras right?  He ran towards the entrance, coming up with something to say to get them to let him see the footage.   

Just as he neared the steps, two men burst out of the door, swinging around and grappling each other.  

One was some Sid Vicious wannabe who was clearly stoned out of his mind. The other was... 

“Jeremy?!”  

Jeremy looked up at him with one eye, the other squeezed tight under a furrowed brow. He had a hand clutching the stair rail, and the other gripping a prescription bottle that was circled by the other man’s hand.  

“C’mon blondie trust me, you’ll thank me when I take these off your hands! I can make it worth your while.”  

Jeremy looked to be in pretty bad shape, sweat glistening on his brow despite the cold. He sure didn’t act like it though when he threw the punk off him, causing the guy to stumble down the stairs onto the asphalt.   

Michael took that opportunity to run up a couple steps, standing between them.  

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?”  

The punk picked himself up with a gross smirk on his face, not even acknowledging Michael as he kept his eyes trained on Jeremy. Or more accurately, on Jeremy’s bottle of pills.  

"Were you the one messing with my car?" He started, trying to get the punk's attention on him.  

The punk finally swiveled his focus onto Michael, looked him up and down, and sneered.  

"I don’t know what you're talking about, but my friend and I were just catching up, and you need to mind your own business. "  

Michael quickly side stepped to keep the guy from trying to get around him.  

"Hey, he's with me, so back off !"  

Michael heard Jeremy inhale sharply behind him, and he clenched his jaw realizing he may have shouted too loud. He didn’t want to draw any attention.  

Michael forced himself to take a deep breath and held his hands out placatingly.  

"Hey man, how about you go somewhere else for your fix." 

The punk just snorted and threw up his arms. "Nothin' for miles, Einstein! Blondie over here is a god-send!"  

His words were heavily slurred, and Michael realized he could probably just nudge the guy’s shoulder and he’d fall over. They could probably just power walk away and he couldn't catch up. 

But Michael took one glance over his shoulder at Jeremy to see that wouldn't be happening.  

"Hey blondie!" The punk took a step closer, swaying on his feet. "You give those to me now, I can hook you up with some stronger stuff tomorrow, seriously!" 

He leaned around Michael, narrowing his eyes with a grimy smile, and Michael side-stepped again to block the guy's view.  

"He's not interested ," he answered for Jeremy, "You can go now."  

The guy just pushed up against Michael instead, and Michael was really starting to lose his cool.

"What do you want for it? Want my jacket? My bike? I don't have cash on me right now, but we could--" "Hey!" Michael began, forgetting he was trying to stay quiet, "Why don't you take your jacket and your cute little scooter there, and beat it. "  

Palms pressed to the guy's chest, Michael shunted him down the stairs to where a shining motorcycle was parked.  

Michael let go and the stoner did in fact fall over. He groaned in pain and Michael knew the punk would have bruises later.  

"Oh, would you look at that..." Michael squatted down next to the grimacing punk and jabbed a finger at the asphalt he was laying on.  

"This is one of those new parking places for people with disabilities and the elderly."  

He gripped the punk's jaw and turned his face side to side. "Now, it's a near thing, but I don't think you quite fit that description..." 

He rose to his feet and planted one against the side of the bike. " This doesn't belong here!"  

"Heyheyhey, man, wai-" 

With a shove, Michael kicked it over and it crashed on its side as the punk let out a panicked yelp.  

"Alright, alright! I'm going, I'm going!" He scurried to his bike and leaped on as soon as it was righted, engines roaring as he sped out of the parking lot.  

Michael didn't relax till he was well out of sight, then turned back to the station.  

Jeremy was sitting on the top step, fingers pressed into his hairline.  

Michael knelt on the step just below him, trying to peer into his face.  

“Jeremy, you okay?” 

Jeremy took a couple more deep breaths before nodding slightly.  

“Why did you leave, what happened?”  

Jeremy finally looked up at him, eyes beginning to focus.  

"Got a headache. Needed food to take my meds and there was no more in the car." 

Michael frowned remembering his emptied compartments. He doubted it was just a headache if Jeremy left in that kind of hurry. 

"Why didn't you say something earlier?"  

Jeremy just frowned back at him. Like the thought hadn’t occurred to him and had no reason to.  

"You know, you could have told me and I'd run and grab you something..."  

"It was just a small thing. I handled it." 

"Well, I can help with the small things." Michael silently wondered if Jeremy really considered getting harassed by that punk a 'small thing.'  

"Maybe sometimes, but I can't just rely on you for every small thing all of the sudden, now can I?"  

Michael wasn't sure how to respond, they hadn't really talked about that. Jeremy wasn't able to exert himself physically very much yet, and Michael began to realize he hadn't thought about exactly what that would mean for the both of them.  

Of course Michael was willing, it didn’t seem like too much trouble, but Jeremy didn't seem to think so, and Jeremy was really good as seeming right.  

Michael just hung his head and let the adrenaline of the past 5 minutes die down. He figured now wasn't the time to talk about that with the state Jeremy was in, and they had to get out of this cold. 

He decided to drop it for now.  

The pills fully kicked in by the time Michael cleaned up the car and drove them to the motel. After helping Jeremy to his room, Michael settled into his own just down the hall. He figured he could hit up the mini-mart on his way back from the interview and scribbled down a short grocery list.  

When he was back in the car with everything he needed, he sat back and waited for it to warm up. He unwrapped his last stick of gum and tried to think about nothing at all. 

…………….

The last sun rays had just faded from his window when there was a knock on his door. Jeremy opened up to see Michael with a polite smile and a bag of groceries tucked into the crook of his arm.  

"How are you feeling?" He said in lieu of a greeting.  

"Much better. And uh, thanks... for all that."  

"Don't mention it."  

Jeremy stepped aside to let him in. "Oh, how'd the interview go?"  

Michael set the bag down on the bed and collapsed into the chair. "Like any Freddy's interview goes." 

"Instant hiring?" 

"Instant hiring." 

Michael slouched down in the chair with a sigh, letting his eyes fall closed as he loosened his tie. Jeremy hurried to turn the heater down a little.  

"They didn't even look at my resume. I spent a solid hour beefing up that thing!" 

Jeremy left Michael to wallow and began pulling food from the bag one by one, laying it out on the bed cover. "Who are you now by the way?" 

Michael opened his eyes and sat up at that, waving his arms in a theatrical flourish.  

"Gabriel Geraldson!"  

Jeremy couldn't stop the snort of laughter that escaped him and Michael's grin wavered.  

"What?" 

Jeremy cleared his throat, still trying to stifle his giggles. " 'Geraldson?' Wow, wonder where that came from..." Jeremy couldn't hold it in anymore when Michael started turning red.  

"I- that's not- I didn't pick it because of you !" But Michael started laughing at himself too.  

"Oh sure! 'Jeremy Fitzgerald' had nothing to do with 'Gabriel Geraldson'   

"I was just picking something that fit with 'Gabriel'!"  

"Why 'Gabriel'?"  

Michael's laughter stopped and his embarrassed smile morphed into a gentle one.  

"Oh... Gabriel is one of their names. Like 'Fritz' was."  

"….oh." 

Jeremy remembered. Back at the hospital, when they first met, Michael had confessed that the name "Fritz" had belonged to one of the children from the infamous Missing Children's Incident. Gabriel must have been another one.  

"That's right, you told me 'Jeremy' was one too." 

"It's kinda silly like, I guess," Michael continued, leaning forward and lacing his hands together. "I feel like it's a way they can get a little... closure? Payback? I don't know." He chuckled softly at himself again. "It just...seemed like a good idea."  

Michael had said something similar when he first explained why he took Fritz's name. Jeremy felt the same way about the sentiment now as he did then.  

"Yeah, I think it's sweet."  

Michael looked up from his hands and gave Jeremy a slight smile before hanging his head again.

Jeremy mentally slapped himself for mellowing the good mood. He had actually gotten Michael to laugh, and blush!   

He dug back into the grocery bag, desperate to change the subject. He pulled out a bright, crackly package and couldn't stop the wave of nostalgic glee that washed over him.  

"No way, is this--?" 

He flipped it over to read the big, red lettering on the front. 

"Holy cow, it is! It's El Chip's!" Jeremy turned to Michael and shook the bag at him. "This used to be my favorite as a kid!"  

Michael smiled fondly at the packaging. "Same. Well, when I could get some anyway, but my siblings would always finish it off before I could get any."  

Jeremy felt a jolt of electricity go through him. Michael's family? 

"Haha, no way!"  

Michael got a faraway look in his eyes and his mouth twitched.  

"I remember this time I bought two large bags for my sister's birthday. I was so sure it would last her at least a week! After giving them to her, I left the room to get the camera and came back to her and my brother licking the dust out of two empty bags."   

Michael laughed fondly at the memory, and Jeremy couldn't help but laugh a little louder.  

"That's hilarious! And adorable, you should talk about your family more."  

Michael's laughter stopped again, but now his smile was gone. His mouth drew into a tight line and he cleared his throat.  

"Eh, not much to say."  

Jeremy realized that maybe getting him to talk about his family was not such a good idea. 

He was about to say something else, but Michael snatched his wallet and keys and headed for the door.  

"I think I'll take a quick nap before the shift starts. Big night."  

"Y-yeah. Good idea." Jeremy agreed, getting up from the chair, but Michael strode out the door and slammed it shut before he could even say goodbye.  

Jeremy stared at the closed door until the sounds of Michael's footsteps faded down the hall. He sat and put down the bag of chips, no longer hungry.  

He could go for a nap too. It was a good idea before they left, even if Michael wasn't actually planning to at all.  

Jeremy moved everything from the bed to the end table and laid atop the covers.  

He tugged at the ends of his sweater sleeves chewing on every word Michael had said about his family.  

Family.   

Jeremy turned over and stared at the wall, remembering Michael's darkened expression just before he left.  

Why didn't he want to talk about them? He didn't seem particularly bitter towards his siblings... it could be a sour relationship with parents.  

Jeremy's spirits sank thinking of his own parents. He could understand that kind of bitterness. He wondered how long Michael had been away from his family. He wondered if Michael would ever tell him about it.  

Jeremy turned over again, chewing his bottom lip.  

As close as he'd felt like they'd gotten in the short time they've known each other, Jeremy was suddenly reminded of the walls still between them. It kinda sucked to run top speed into them, but Jeremy figured it was better than treading on eggshells.  

He decided he wasn't going to regret it and let himself dissolve into a fitful sleep.  

******

He listened.  

I told you he would. He wants this just as much as I do.  

I doubt that.  

What? How can you possibly think he's any less invested than I am? 

That's not what I said.  

…  

What was that sound? 

Speak of the devil  

... 

Don't keep him waiting.  

******

The knocking grew louder, and so did the voice on the other side of the door.  

Jeremy fumbled his way out of bed, just pulling his shoes on by the time he got to the peephole.  

He saw a tall man with messy, brown hair tucked under a cap.  

He opened the door.  

"Hey Jeremy, sorry to wake you up, I--" 

"Michael!"  Jeremy leapt from the door and scrambled around the room looking for his bag.  

"Gimme a few minutes to pack a bag and we can go!" 

Jeremy gestured for Michael to come in, but Michael stilled in the doorway.  

"We? I just wanted to see you before I left."  

Now it was Jeremy's turn to freeze. "Before... YOU left?? Aren't I coming with you?" 

Michael had the audacity to look confused. "What?? That wasn't the plan!"  

"Well maybe not your plan!" Jeremy began shoving bottled water, a notebook, and pens into his bag. "How on earth can I help if I stay here? What did I come here for?" 

Michael stepped into the room then, having enough courtesy to look at least a little guilty. "Well, you can be here, doesn't mean you have to be there ."  

"Are you serious? I thought we were done talking about this already!" 

Michael held up his hands, standing between Jeremy and the open door. "Okay well... fine, Jeremy--  but you can't go the first couple nights, okay? Not until I make sure it's safe." 

Jeremy stopped in his scrambling and turned an incredulous look on Michael. "If you're not sure it's safe, why would you go alone on the first night?" 

Michael snorted and put his hands on his hips, tilting his head back to rake his eyes across the ceiling. "That's uh...that's a good point."  

He took the car keys from his pocket and swung them around a finger, blowing out a defeated sigh and casting a side-long glance at the clock.  

Finally, he leaned back and bellowed, "Fine FINE, you can come!" Michael turned towards the door and took two steps forward but stopped just before the doorway. He turned his head back to Jeremy and raised his hand, shaking the keys dangling from his fingers. He grinned.  

"If you can keep up."  

Then he was out the door and dashing to the railing.  

Jeremy allowed himself a second to blink then sprinted after him,  reaching the door just as Michael was vaulting over the railing .  

Jeremy yelped and ran up to it, leaning over to see Michael roll out his fall into the parking lot and dash to the car.  

He had to remind himself to close his hanging mouth as he watched Michael speed out of the parking lot and down the road.  

Jeremy didn't move until Michael turned another corner and drove out of sight, the sound of screeching tires filling the quiet night. He looked from the road to the door to the 15 foot drop into the parking lot.  

"What the heck was that??!"  

Jeremy replayed the image of Michael sailing over the edge in his head. He ran a hand through his hair and laughed in disbelief. He couldn't tell if he was more angry or impressed. He looked up at the midnight sky and sighed.  

"Michael Schmit, you really are something." He thought of Michael's playful grin before bolting out the door. Michael was so gonna get it when he got back.  

Jeremy's payback fantasies were interrupted by a familiar motorcycle peeling into the motel parking lot.  The rider parked, swung his leg over and took off his helmet.  

It was the druggie from the gas station. Apparently he was also staying here, and Jeremy unfortunately didn't have the bearings to get out of sight before he was spotted.  

"Ey, Blondie!" He crowed from below, swaggering towards the stairs. "Well it must be my lucky day!"  

…………….

"The attraction opens in, like, a week, so we have to make sure everything works and nothing catches on fire."  

Michael leaned back in the spinning office chair, chewing his gum as he listened to the phone dude.  

It was weird hearing a different voice over the phone, and one that had been recorded for him just that morning.  

This office was a little bigger than most he'd worked in before, and he noted the distinct lack of a door as well as the open vent on the right wall.  

But this place was jam-packed full of stuff: employee records, incident reports, delivery schedules-- and this was just the office. He found himself feeling something akin to excitement. 

There would be new answers here, he just knew it.  

As he stood up and began rifling through the first couple of boxes, he began to feel a little pang of regret. It really would have been nice to have help sorting through all this.  

Maybe if he called him? No, there were no bus lines that led up here and there was no way Michael was letting him walk. 

"We found another set of drawings, always nice," the phone dude continued, "and a Foxy head! Which we think could be..."  

Michael flipped open the camera monitor and flicked through the feeds till he found it.  

The Foxy head stared back at him, jaw hanging open, one glowing eye illuminating the darkness.  

Foxy had always been his favorite.  

Michael watched the flickering footage, remembering an old Foxy plush toy he had when he was younger. He loved that thing.  

He gave it to his brother one day when the kid wouldn't stop crying. He never got it back.  

Michael shook himself and flipped through the other cams. Pieces of the other animatronics were placed randomly in other hallways for "optimal spooking" or whatever that guy told him at the interview.   

They were just some heads and a couple torsos. Even if they were haunted they probably couldn't hurt him, right? They probably couldn't even move...  

"...over to your far left, uh-you can flip up your maintenance panel!" 

Michael opened it up and took a look at the systems that he could reboot. 

"heh-heh, some of this equipment is barely functional...yeah I wasn't joking about the fire. That-that-that's a real risk..."  

Wonderful.  

Michael experimentally tapped the camera system reboot and helpfully discovered that he could not have both panels open at the same time.  

If these animatronics did move, I'd be dead meat .   

"...like I said, we're trying to track down a good lead right now." Michael's ears pricked up at that and he put the panel down, leaning in to listen. 

"Uh, some guy who helped design one of the buildings says there was like an extra room that got boarded up, or, uh, something like that..."  

 A boarded up room? That had to have something good, something useful. That sounded like the perfect place for Fazbear Entertainment to hide evidence they were trying to cover up.  

Michael checked the cams again but didn't see anything out of place. Where was it? 

He stood and slowly picked his way down each hallway, scanning for what room they were talking about. Most of the rooms in the building had been closed up, and after some prying, Michael realized it was because the new owners had already completely emptied them. 

So that was why so much junk was dumped into the hallways. He guessed it made sense that a haunted house-type attraction would want to only be a series of hallways.  

Each hallway was decorated with crusty crayon drawings and spare animatronic parts. Cluttering the floor, however, were heaps and heaps of boxes, filled to the brim, and Michael was beginning to feel this really was a two-man job.   

Trying not to drown in regret, Michael took another round, focusing back to the task at hand.  

If this "extra room" was a room no one had known about before, maybe the company had done more than board it up... they would have had to make it look like it was never there in the first place.  

Remembering the angles of each camera, Michael tried looking in all the blind spots. After poking around in dark corner after dark corner, Michael finally struck gold.  

Well, he actually struck a chunk of brick, and he gasped, grasping the toe of his shoe before realizing it hadn't actually hurt.  

Stepping carefully into the darkness, Michael made out more broken off chunks of brick and splinters of wood in piles on the floor.  

Peering from the gaping hole was a set of rusty double doors.  

"Bingo."  

Just as he was reaching for one of the handles, he heard a dull thumping sound through the wall.  

Remembering the camera layout from the office, Michael knew it was Room 10, the one just near the entrance. 

Instinct taking over, Michael hurried back to the office as quietly as he could manage.  

Was an animatronic here after all? Which would it be? And was it haunted? Well, clearly if it's moving on its own at night, he answered himself.  

He tugged over the camera monitor and flicked to Camera 10, immediately spotting a figure moving in the dark. Only, it was much smaller than he was expecting, and it was wiggling through the high window.  

No way... Was someone actually... breaking in?!  

Michael allowed a relieved laugh to escape him as he flicked through all the cams to make sure there wasn't anything else before returning to Cam 10.  

Like, a person-person? Like a human??  

He found himself strangely excited by the revelation. Maybe this time he'd be able to do actual security guard stuff. Like stopping trespassers! He thought of how he had stopped that stoner that had been harassing Jeremy this morning.  

Yeah, he could handle this.  

Casting occasional glances back at the figure moving in the dark, Michael fumbled around looking for an appropriate weapon.  

The figure dropped from the window and landed on the floor. Feeling rushed, Michael dunked his hand into a box and pulled out the first thing his fingers brushed against.  

When Michael got to the other end of the hall, there were clear sounds of shuffling and box opening. He almost felt bad for whoever decided that breaking into this place was worth anything. 

A thin beam of light swiveled around every now and then from a small torch, but Michael still couldn't get a good look at them. He crept closer, gripping his improvised weapon and holding it above his head in a way he hoped looked intimidating.  

The torch light swiveled around again and the figure was illuminated by its dull glow. They had their back to Michael, and were crouched over something on the floor.   

Michael got close enough to peek over their shoulder and see what it was.  

They were Fazbear incident reports; Michael would recognize that file format anywhere. The first few seemed to be dated from years ago, and Michael felt air squeeze out of his lungs when the date 1983 appeared in the corner of one of the pages.  

Unfortunately, that got the attention of the trespasser. The light spun around and Michael raised his arms again, knocking the light from their hands. The small torch skittered to the floor, casting light on both of their faces.  

"Michael!"  

"Jeremy?! What are you doing ?!"  

Jeremy stood, gesturing wildly with his hands. "What am I doing? What are you doing?? ... Were you gonna club me with a guitar?!"  

Michael glanced up at the Bonnie guitar in his hands and sheepishly lowered it.  

"I thought you were a—a burglar!" He snatched up Jeremy's light and inspected the window the man had crawled in through. "You didn't break anything while breaking in, did you?"  

"Hey, I was careful!" Jeremy insisted, pushing past Michael and standing on his toes to shut the window.

"And I wouldn't have had to break in if someone had just let me come ."  

"I know, I know," Michael sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was remembering the stacks and stacks of boxes piled in the office alone, not to mention the other hallways.  

And there really didn't seem to be any danger here.  

He thought about the day he first met Jeremy, and the crazy couple of nights afterwards. Jeremy's resolve had been so strong, and so dang infectious. He had felt like his life could be something different, something better. 

Maybe it was time to finally lean into that feeling.  

Before Michael could say anything, Jeremy snagged his light back and returned to the files on the floor.  

"Don't worry, I'll just be here aaaaaall out of your way! You just keep doing your night guard stuff, and I'll be here!"  

Michael watched Jeremy's back and felt some tension ease off his shoulders. He really was glad Jeremy was here.  

"Okay, wait, Jeremy look, I'm sorry okay? I shouldn't have tried to...keep you from this." 

"Really?" Jeremy replied, back still turned.  "Cause it wouldn't be the first time... you've got quite the track record, Schmidt."  

"I know, and it's stupid!" He moved around Jeremy and plopped on the floor across from him, trying to meet the other's eyes.  

"I'm being stupid cause I keep trying to do this by myself when I don't want to anymore."  

Jeremy finally looked up at him and Michael hoped Jeremy believed him.  

"I...wanna work together from now on, okay? I--I won't pull something like that again."   

He couldn't stand Jeremy's stare anymore and hung his head a little.  

He waited for some cutting remark, something that hit too close to home. Jeremy was good at that. Instead a hand slid into view and Michael looked up to see Jeremy with his hand outstretched. He found it a little funny, but Michael still gripped the other man's hand and shook it as firmly as he could.  

"Awesome," Jeremy shuffled together the files from the floor and stuffed them back in a box, picking it up and rising to his feet. He snickered and cracked a smile that made all of Michael's guilt melt away.  

"Let's go to the office then, yeah?" And with that, Jeremy swung around and strode down the hall, Michael following close behind.  

… 

Though it didn't come as too much of a surprise, Jeremy was an amazing organizer.  

Michael just sat back and watched as Jeremy got all the boxes into piles by category, file-type, and year.  

Afterwards, Michael replayed the recording left by the phone dude to catch Jeremy up.  

"What does he mean 'tracking down a new lead'?" Jeremy was standing now, leaning over the desk where Michael sat, scribbling down notes on a paper.  

"I'm thinking it's that extra room he talked about at the end." Michael rose from his chair and nudged Jeremy's shoulder. "I was actually just about to check it out when you showed up." He kept his tone playful to make sure Jeremy didn't think he was upset.  

Jeremy tended to be really good at understanding him anyway.  

Michael led Jeremy down a couple halls to the tucked-away pair of double doors, surrounded by rubble of the broken false-wall.  

“Woah. Is this...?”  

Michael nodded and slid the bar from the handles, laying it carefully on the floor. 

“The lead.”  

He gripped one handle in each hand and lightly tugged, finding it was rusted shut. “That’s why they were saving this for morning.” He muttered to himself. 

He turned to ask Jeremy for some help, but Jeremy was already gripping the right door's handle, bright blue eyes watching Michael carefully.  

Michael slowly slid his hand from between Jeremy's and gripped the left handle tightly with both hands. On the count of 3 they pulled together and the doors groaned in protest. They only managed to move it a little, dust and rust raining on the floor.  

"...this is a PULL door, right?" Jeremy snickered and Michael couldn’t keep the laugh from his voice as he counted down again.  

“1, 2, 3!”  

They yanked again, throwing their whole bodies into it this time. The metal shrieked and some musty air escaped as the doors were pulled ajar.  

Not enough to see anything though.  

After one more count down and one more hard tug, they pulled the doors open and were met with darkness. Michael quickly scanned the room, grazing over broken down arcade machines and emptied shelving units.  

He leaned around his door into the room as far as he dared and Jeremy followed suit. He waited for his eyes to adjust so he could make out what was at the other end of the room. Jeremy gasped beside him just as Michael also noticed something slumped against the right wall.   

His eyes fell on something with metal, wires, and old, matted fur.  

Not wasting a second, Michael jumped back and rammed his shoulder against the door as hard as he could. 

It shut with a loud metal clang that reverberated down the hall. It seemed Jeremy had the same reaction as they stared at each other, palms pressed to the closed doors. Michael knew what he saw, and Jeremy must have realized it too.  

Too stunned to speak, they turned and pressed their backs to the doors, breathing heavily. But Jeremy didn't stay silent for long, not even trying to hide his panic.  

"Is it even an animatronic? Or just a suit?"  

"I don't know, does it matter? Haunted fur suit could probably still…gouge our eyes out!"  

Jeremy thumped the back of his head against the door, squeezing his eyes shut. "Okay, did not need that image!"  

"Just, hurry and help me rebar this," Michael said scrambling from the door. "When the people on the day shift get here they can throw it out."  

"But what if they keep it? They sound desperate for junk to bulk up the place."  

"Ugh, they better NOT…but that does sound like something they'd do."  

"Wait, don’t we want them to keep it? Isn't possessed animatronics why we're here?" 

Michael scrunched up his face at that. "…I guess!"  

He turned and faced the doors again. He had to go back in, he needed a better look. But... something really felt off about that one. All his survival instincts were kicking into overdrive and he could barely hear himself think.  

"I know," Jeremy said stepping beside him, and Michael felt that Jeremy really did know. They both wanted to know more, needed to, but facing fear like this was never easy.  

They both jumped as a loud slam sounded from down the hall. After one quick glance at each other they dashed back to the office and flipped the cam feeds open.  

It was two people, girls in caps, thick boots, and work clothes.  

"The day shift!" Michael exclaimed, dropping his voice to a whisper. He checked the time to see that it really was 6 am, on the dot. "Jeremy, you gotta get out of here!"  

Michael raced over to the vent hanging over the right side of the office. "Here, this vent will take you straight to the entrance. C'mon, I'll give you a boost."  

"What?" Jeremy whispered harshly back. "No, I'm not going in there!"  

"Wha-why not??"  

"I don't like tight spaces. I'll just go the normal way," 

Michael gestured wildly at camera feeds. "Jeremy, they'll see you!" The two girls were quickly making their way down the halls towards the office.  

"They won't see me."  

Jeremy picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder, giving Michael a little wave.  

"I'll rebar the door on my way out. Just calm down, and act natural!" Then he slipped out the doorway, dashed past the window, and was gone. 

Michael stared after him. He really was odd, that one. He figured he should get used to it.   

Michael turned back to the cams and watched Jeremy navigate the hallways, perfectly avoiding getting spotted.  

He felt excitement bubble in his chest at that thought. There would be many more opportunities for Jeremy to surprise him like this.  

They really were in this together now.  

Michael jumped when the nearing sound of laughter shocked him to his senses. He flipped the monitor closed just as the two girls passed the window and walked in. He remembered having briefly met them after his interview, but was grateful they too wore their nametags.  

"Mornin'...Gabriel," one of the girls said, clearly reading off the nametag on his chest.  

"Hey Erin. Valerie." He replied, trying to be less obvious about reading their names. "You two are... punctual."  

Erin rolled her eyes and plopped down in the chair. "That's all Val, she's weird about time like that."  

"You're welcome!" Valerie shot back before bringing her gaze back to Michael.  

"That's a sweet ride you've got outside by the way. It is yours, right?"  

Michael thought of his rusty, dented Mustang in the parking lot and thought "sweet ride" was a little too generous.  

"Thanks, yeah, it's mine." He picked up his things and headed for the exit.  

"I'm gonna head home now and crash. You ladies have a good day."  

Michael went out the office exit and was surprised to be met with forest. 

The winter wind rustled through the quaking aspen leaves, and Michael wondered how he didn't notice their stark white bark and bright yellow leaves the night before. The forest floor was a blanket of orange and yellow, and Michael couldn't resist taking a few steps in to surround himself with the trees.  

He remembered the pine forest surrounding his home, and how often he used to play there when he was younger. A lot younger.  

Stuffing a leaf in his jacket pocket, he made his way back to the parking lot, immediately spying Jeremy who was standing next to...  

"Jeremy...what is that ?"  

"This is a 1986 Walter Wolf Suzuki RG500!" 

"It's a motorcycle." 

"That's what I said."  

Michael took a step forward and ran a hand experimentally over the glossy paint job. "Sweet ride" Valerie had said, and it really was. This was probably the coolest bike he'd ever seen in his life.  

"Jeremy, please tell me you didn't steal this." 

"I didn't!"  

"Then where did this come from??" 

For the first time all night, Jeremy looked a little hesitant, even a little embarrassed. "Uh, you remember that guy from the gas station?"  

'The guy from the gas station?' Did he mean that stoner that harassed him for his pills?   

Oh you've gotta be joking.  

"You didn't."  

Jeremy flashed him an innocent smile, swinging the keys around his finger.   

"Race you back!"  

Chapter Text

Jeremy was lucid enough to know he was having a nightmare. He felt like he'd been stuck in this loop for hours.  

He was running around small rooms trying to pick up pieces of himself, and he was being chased by children constantly tearing him apart. Then he'd have to start all over.  

Jeremy was not enjoying being in Mangle's shoes, but it did nothing to change his mind about the contempt he held for the creature.  

It had almost killed him after all.  

After finally reattaching all the metal pieces of himself, Jeremy heard the telltale sounds of small shoes pattering on tile. Without looking back, he ran as far away from the child as he could, determined not to get caught again.  

Desperate to get away, he ran top speed at the opposite wall and graciously found himself falling right through it.  

Everything outside was just black void, but he found his surroundings begin to turn a frightening shade of red as he drifted further and further down.  

When Jeremy's feet touched solid...something, he tried looking for any source of light.  

He could hear crying, but couldn't tell exactly where it was coming from; he couldn't see very far in front of him. The sobs didn’t stop, and Jeremy found it more and more unnerving as he slowly crept forward, the sound following him.  

He thought the voice might have been a little familiar, but he couldn't really trust hunches like that in a dream, could he?  

"Hello?" Jeremy tried, attempting to sound steady but non-threatening. The crying suddenly stopped, but he received no answer, only a cold breeze making him shiver.  

He hugged his arms across his chest and realized he was no longer made of metal and plastic.  

"Hello?" He tried again, "Where'd you go?"  

The voice giggled, so close that Jeremy jumped. It sounded just inches behind his head, but he dared not turn around.  

A cold presence was just behind him, and Jeremy suppressed another shiver as it got closer, whispering right into his ear.  

Do you like birthday parties?  

Jeremy struggled not to move as he felt two hands reach around and cover his eyes.  

Guess who.  

Jeremy tried to keep his breathing even as he answered.   

"I don't know your name. You haven't told me." He shifted uncomfortably and licked his dry lips.  

"Tell me your name."  

Instead of answering, the hands let go and Jeremy was met with the sight of giant birthday balloons falling from the sky. Their strings fluttered in the cold breeze, bright red surfaces reflecting light from something above.  

Jeremy had to get there.  

Mostly sure of himself, he used the drifting balloons to take himself further and further up.  

It didn't take him long to realize that what he was headed for was a night sky with a bright moon.  

The light was heavenly after that suffocating darkness, and Jeremy laid on the platform beneath it, granting himself a moment of peace in this trippy nightmare. He wondered how much longer he'd have to stay.  

Do you like birthday parties? Her voice repeated in his head. Jeremy sat up to see a large birthday cake resting on the platform with him, little candles slightly warming the air around him.  

He reached his hands out to touch it and as soon as he did, everything froze and a needle-like pain flared between his eyes.  

Jeremy cried out and threw off his covers. His eyes flew open and he looked around. It took him a moment to remember where he was.  

He was looking out a window... or no... he was looking in a window. He seemed to be outside, and it was raining.  

Peering into the glass, Jeremy saw children running around and playing. He had to get their attention, they had to let him in. It was cold out here, and raining, and he was all alone. His dad told him to never be by himself, it was dangerous. His dad told him to never-- 

He gasped when a hand gripped his shoulder. It pulled him backwards and he felt something sharp prick his back between his shoulder blades.  

"No!" Jeremy screamed, wrestling from his captor's hold. He spun around, but instead of seeing a tall man he saw old plastic and sharp teeth.  

"M-mangle..." Jeremy squeaked out as the animatronic lunged for him, the screams of parents and children at a birthday party abruptly cut off with the loud snap of its jaws.  

Jeremy could feel blood seeping into his shirt, choking out a plea for help as he dropped onto the cold tile.  

Only, it was rough carpet, and he fell a lot further than he thought he would.  

Jeremy looked up and realized he'd fallen from a bed. He was in a motel room, and he was about to throw up.  

He hurried to the bathroom but nothing would come up. He moved to the sink and just coughed and coughed, gripping the sides of the sink so hard he thought he might break it. He screwed his eyes shut and tried to take deep breaths till the sound of heavy rain and screeching car tires faded away.  

It took a while, but eventually his panic subsided and Jeremy was left with a hollow feeling. He ran the sink and cupped some water in his hands, bringing it up to his lips.  

After he drank, he wiped the cool residue over his face and stared into the mirror.  

He didn’t look like himself. But then again, he couldn't be certain in moments like these.  

He reached a hand up and knocked on the glass.  

"Hey... we need to talk."  

He wasn't waiting for long. Slowly and silently her face appeared in the mirror beside his reflection.  

Her eyes were two large black pools, with tears streaming from them endlessly, yet somehow her expression was blank. Patient and expectant.  

Jeremy felt like he was floating, and he gripped the sink tighter to get some semblance of stability.  

"I keep thinking I'm you, you know."  

She hovered a hand over his head and Jeremy could have sworn he felt a feather-light touch brush over his hair.  

Of course. Everything's a mess up here. I put most of it back together for you. You're welcome by the way.  

"..thanks..."  

Jeremy's stomach still felt queasy, but he swallowed that all down and focused on the little girl in front of him.  

"I did what you asked, I got us here. What now?"  

She just smiled at him in a way that wasn't at all comforting.  

Do what you do best, Jeremy Fitzgerald. she replied.  

Jeremy remembered all the boxes of files and answers that he was eager to get back to. He could hardly wait for midnight.  

" I'm worried though," he pressed, "The longer we take here, the further away Afton gets." 

I don't think that's going to be a problem for you.  

What was that supposed to mean? Jeremy tried to shake off his uncertainty. In the short time he'd known this spirit, he'd learned she didn't like answering many questions. But she hadn't led him wrong so far.  

Still, something about the way she spoke to him in their dream was...off putting. 

 "And what will you do when we finally catch up to him?"  

It had seemed an innocent enough question, but she leaned forward in the mirror, almost filling the whole space, black eyes somehow darker as she glared at Jeremy through the glass.  

We will make him pay.  

He shuddered as he felt a wave of pure anger wash over him, her anger. It made his throat tight and his skin hot. It felt childlike and decades old at the same time.  

He squeezed his eyes shut to get his bearings, but when he opened them, he saw her image in the mirror slowly begin to fade away.  

"No, wait!" Jeremy lunged forward, hands grabbing the mirror as if he could force her to stay.  

"I don't know your name. You haven't told me. Tell me your name!"  

She just smiled again and disappeared from the mirror's reflection completely, but a quiet voice echoed in the back of his mind. 

Charlie.  

................ 

Michael looked up from his work at the sound of a slamming door. He sat up from his uncomfortable position in the driver's seat of his car and looked out the windshield. Jeremy was leaving his room, zipping up his jacket and fluffing up his blonde hair to cover his ears.  

Michael watched him shove his hands in his pockets and look out over town. Jeremy's eyes slowly  moved up towards the sky where they lingered before his gaze softened and his lips spread into an even softer smile.  

Michael shifted to see if Jeremy was looking at anything in particular, but his movement caught the other man's attention.  

Jeremy's smile widened as he looked down and waved. Michael waved back through his windshield and Jeremy turned to head down the stairs to the car.  

Michael rolled his neck and popped in a new stick of bubble gum, straightening up the papers strewn across his lap and picking up the ones that had fallen to the floor.  

When he sat back up, Jeremey was standing in front of the car, hands on his hips and eyebrow raised.  

He said something but it was all muffled through the windshield.  

Michael rolled down his window and Jeremy repeated, 

"What are you doing?" 

"Working?" 

"Uh huh."   

Jeremy stepped around the side of the car and stuck his head through the window.  

"Wait, you don't have the heater on?! Aren't you freezing??"  

Michael huffed a laugh, patting his dash and casting Jeremy a sidelong glance. "May I remind you that we had to push my car here this morning?"  

Jeremy nodded like he actually had forgotten, and Michael frowned. Jeremy seemed a bit off this morning, but he could have been imagining it.  

But then Jeremy's mouth pulled into a smug smile. "Huh, all I remember is winning ."  

Definitely imagining it.  

Michael blew and popped a bubble before pressing his palm to Jeremy's forehead and shoving Jeremy’s head out of the car.  

"Yeah yeah," Michael began, stepping out of the car and shrugging off his coat, "Well it's almost 10 and I'm starving, so let's go get that free breakfast. And then," He pat the hood of his car gently and wiped his dusty hand on his jeans. "Then I need to fix this, before tonight."  

"Why don't you just take it to a shop? Won't fixing it yourself take too long?"  

"Who do you think you're talking to? I was a mechanic before I was a security guard, you know."  

"Oh yeah, at the uh 'sister location' as you called it."  

"Heh, yeah". Michael hadn't given Jeremy the name cause he figured he didn't really want Jeremy knowing he once worked for 'Afton Robotics', and he thought the nickname was pretty clever, even if Jeremy would never know why.  

He hated still having to hide so much, and it was getting harder and harder to keep it all in. Jeremy was the curious type, and really smart too, and that scared him. He felt like he was always on his toes, careful not to let anything slip and not seem like he was hiding anything at the same time. It was getting a little exhausting.  

Every now and then Michael would wonder if the company was worth the extra trouble, but as he and Jeremy sat down for a breakfast of muffins and fruit cups together, he couldn't imagine ever wanting to be alone again.  

"So I'm thinking, if that animatronic really is alive, then we-- hey, are you listening?"  

Jeremy hadn't said a word for the past five minutes, he'd just been staring at Michael, which Michael was finding harder and harder to ignore. But after a while it became apparent that Jeremy was looking right through him, and probably hadn't heard a single word he said.   

"Sorry, what?" Jeremy blinked before giving Michael an apologetic smile, confirming his suspicions.  

"Did you get any sleep? I know three hours isn't much but you look half-dead." Jeremy snickered and Michael slapped a hand to his face when he realized his choice of words. He took another bite of muffin in a weak attempt to show he wasn't embarrassed. 

It was just about as effective as he'd expected.  

"Sorry Jeremy. I forgot that you're technically supposed to be on bedrest still. You know.." Michael leaned forward, lowering his voice, "like in the hospital."  

"Heeeey," Jeremy was quick to shoot back, shooing Michael away with his free hand, "You're not about to tell me I have to stay here during your shift, are you?" 

"Nah," Michael assured him, popping open his yogurt cup and leaning back in his seat. "I'm done with that now." He let his smile quirk up into a smirk. "But that means you better start pulling your weight, Fitzgerald."  

"Oh, I plan to."  

He was upbeat, a little playful even. But still, something felt wrong.  

Michael really wanted to ask, but then he thought about what Jeremy said just yesterday at the gas station. It probably really wasn't his business... but even then, if something was going on and Michael could help at all... but what if Jeremy got upset?  

Michael decided he'd risk it as he watched Jeremy almost drink the ketchup for the fifth time. 

"Jeremy," Michael began, plucking the condiment from the other man's hand and moving it to his side of the table. "Did something happen?"  

"Hmm?" Jeremy 's eyebrows drew up in a look Michael wished he was better at reading.  

"C'mon, what is it? Something's up, I can tell."  

Jeremy sighed, laying his head down on the table, but not breaking eye contact. "Even if something was up, why should I tell you?"  

Despite his words, Jeremy's tone was still light, so Michael pressed.  

"I'd just—like to know so I don’t have to...worry."  

"No one told you to be worried."  

"I just am."  

Jeremy gave him another one of those long, blank stares, the ones that always unnerved him a little. Finally, Jeremy's eyes slid closed and he raised his shoulders in a light shrug.  

"I was probably gonna end up telling you anyway, at some point." Jeremey sat up and brushed some crumbs off the table, watching them fall to the floor. 

"I dreamt that I was The Mangle." 

Ah. Well there you have it, Michael. Jeremy was probably trying to forget about it, but you just had to nag, didn't you? Nice going.  

"What did you do?" Michael asked instead of back pedaling like he probably should have.  

Jeremy leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. The sunlight caught his eyes in a very striking way, and Michael quickly looked away when Jeremy's eyes met his.  

"I mean, you don't have to tell me more, if you don't want to."  

Jeremy sighed, flicking his eyes back and forth, deciding.  

"I mean... there wasn't much to it." he shrugged again, straightening and spooning more yogurt into his mouth. "I was trying to pick up all my pieces, they were scattered everywhere, but these kids kept coming to take me apart again."  

Michael swallowed. He remembered that awful "kids' attraction" piled in the corner of their last Freddy's location. "Mangle" really was the perfect name for it.  

"Sounds...scary." Michael finished lamely.  

Jeremy just shook his head again. "Ah, it wasn't so bad. Got really weird at the end though. Even though I wanted it to stop, I felt like I had to keep going... like there was something I was supposed to do."  

"Did you?" 

"Yeah, I kept going, and then I found... something?? Ah!" Jeremy brought a hand up, pinching the spot between his eyes.  

"Why can't I remember what it was? That's what I wanted to tell you about!"  

Jeremy squeezed his eyes shut and thumped a fist to his forehead.  

"Okay, maybe don't do that," Michael gently pulled at Jeremy's fist, "I'm sure if it was important you'll-" 

"Cake!" Jeremy cried, nearly jumping out of his seat in excitement.  

An old woman eating in the corner booth leveled a rather impressive glare at him, but Jeremy just flashed her a beautiful smile before settling back down and clearing his throat.   

"It was cake, it was cake that I found."  

"The big part of this dream you wanted to tell me about was cake?" 

"Yeah, man, " Jeremy mumbled around the last bite of his bagel. "Seemed like a pretty important cake." 

Alright, sure. Why not?  

"Okay, so you found—a cake, and then what?"  

Jeremy paused before saying, "That's all."  

Michael raised an eyebrow. "Then you woke up?" 

"Then I woke up—hey, you gonna eat that?" Jeremy was eyeing the untouched muffin on Michael's plate. 

"What? There's more over there," Michael gestured past Jeremy's head at the counter only to have his hand pushed aside.   

"Yeah, but not any blueberry ones!"  

Michael rolled his eyes and plopped his muffin on Jeremy's plate who grinned excitedly before stuffing a bite into his mouth.  

"Hank yhuu" he said, mouth full, and Michael couldn't resist chuckling as he stood up to get another muffin.  

"Wait!," Jeremy's hand shot out and snatched Michael's jacket sleeve, startling him a little. "Bring me back a bagel? Ooo, and one more fruit cup!"  

Michael feigned annoyance with an overdramatic sigh, making Jeremey's smile widen. "Will there be anything else, your Highness?" 

"No," Jeremy responded in a mock accent "That will be all, good sir," he flicked his hand, “You may go."  

Michael snorted and left.  

As he waited for Jeremy's bagel to toast, he found his mind wandering. He couldn't shake the feeling that Jeremy's dream was some kind of bad omen. He jumped a little when the toaster popped and Michael aimed a disappointed sigh at his reflection in it.  

You've been doing this for how many years now, Michael?  

Nightmares came with the job, and Jeremy didn't seem too surprised or concerned about it. And it didn't sound like he wanted Michael to do anything about it, or was planning on doing anything about it himself. There was no reason to get worked up. Michael tried to focus on spreading cream cheese on Jeremy's bagel.  

As he made his way back to their table,  he noticed Jeremy flipping through a wad of bills, before stuffing it back into his coat pocket.  

That was...a lot of money.  

Michael had assumed at this point that Jeremy was pretty loaded, how loaded he wasn't sure, but seeing as he could afford that room for several nights at a place like this, Michael assumed he must have quite the stash he's sitting on. Michael tried not to feel jealous as he thought about returning to sleeping in his car tonight.  

Oh right, the car.  

"Hey Jeremy," he said setting the food down on Jeremy's plate, "I'm actually gonna start working on the car so I'll be out there. You should probably sleep more after taking your meds... Jeremy?"   

Jeremy had his eyes glued to the food Michael placed in front of him. Slowly, Jeremy lifted a finger, pointing at the strawberry cream cheese spread generously on top.  

"How did you know?" Jeremy's voice had gone surprisingly quiet, and Michael couldn’t keep his confused tone out of his response.  

"You ate three others just like it? So I figured that's the way you like them." 

"...Right."  

Jeremy didn't say anything else, but slowly picked up the half bagel and took a big bite.  

"Okay, well I'm gonna go... let me know if you need anything."  

Jeremy silently nodded, not even turning to look at him. Michael really had to get started on the car while it was still light out, but he also felt like he wanted to stay.  

He shrugged it off and headed out the door.  

The issue didn't take too long to find, and Michael was grateful it was panning out to be a pretty easy fix. He'd definitely have it good as new long before the shift began. He had to get under the car though, which would get hot and stuffy despite the cooling weather. A little sweat never killed anyone though.   

He had only just begun getting his hands dirty when a voice sounded from beside him.  

"Dang, Michael, you really do know what you're doing."  

"Jeremy?! Ow!" Michael had jerked up at the voice, forgetting that he was, in fact, still under his car.  

His head thumped against the metal and Michael hissed in pain as he shimmied out from underneath, looking up to see Jeremy sitting on the asphalt beside him.  

"I thought you were sleeping." 

"You told me to sleep, what makes you think that meant I'd be sleeping?" Jeremy's straight face broke into a smile and Michael smiled back.  

"Ha, ha." He said, rolling his eyes and sitting up all the way, leaning back on his hands. Maybe he could stand to take a little break, just to cool off, he was almost done anyway. He looked up at the sky and let his eyes fall closed, enjoying the way the cool breeze sifted through his hair. After a few deep breaths, Michael let his head drop, slowly opening his eyes to see Jeremy looking him up and down.  

"What?"  

Jeremy seemed to snap awake and lightly shook his head, blinking rapidly, which Michael felt only reinforced the former suggestion that Jeremy rest.  

"N-nothing! I just... well I--" Jeremy's cheeks flushed red as he struggled for the right words.  

Michael would have laughed if he hadn't already been laughed at by Jeremy for turning red on multiple occasions.  

He just waited patiently as Jeremy laughed at himself.  

"I'm just... I feel really lucky."  

Michael tilted his head, furrowing his brow. "Lucky?"  

"Yeah," Jeremy looked down at his hands clasped in his lap. "I'm lucky I met you."  

Michael tried to hide his disbelief with a light-hearted scoff but Jeremy's eyebrows shot up.  

"I'm serious! I really am!"  

"Okay, okay." Michael figured he should just take it like a compliment, even if it wasn't true. Jeremy was anything but lucky to wind up in Michael's life.  

"I just think I'm the lucky one, Jeremy."  

Jeremy's smile returned at that but he seemed unable to look Michael in the eye, keeping his gaze downward as he fiddled with some loose rocks at their feet.   

Michael started to get that feeling again. It was almost like excitement. He could almost say he was actually happy. He didn't think he'd feel that again.   

"I'm lucky I met you." 

After their break, Michael got back to work, and Jeremy stayed with him.  

And they talked. Not about pizzerias or murderers or missing children, just about normal stuff. It was nice. Michael was sure that he had laughed more in one afternoon than he had in the past year, maybe in the past several years. He tried not to let that realization mellow him, instead trying to bask in it as he let himself fully relax in Jeremy's company.  

................

We found one. A real one.  Oh, uh, gotta go man! Well look, it's in there somewhere, I'm sure you'll see it. Okay, I'll leave you with some of this great audio I found. Talk to you later, man!  

… 

Uh, hello? Hello, hello?  

"No way!" Jeremy shrieked, launching from his chair and slamming his hands on the desk.  

He leaned in close to the phone, then whipped his head to Michael who had been startled out of his pacing by Jeremy's outburst.  

"It's the guy! The-the phone guy from before! I mean, I've listened to his recordings before!" 

Well, maybe it was more like, after hearing the training tape, he happily helped himself to every other old recording he found.  

"Yeah, same here," Michael said, joining Jeremy at the desk. "At a different location." 

Michael leaned closer too, absentmindedly brushing back the hair falling over his eyes. Jeremy remembered the way Michael tied it back as he worked on the car earlier. He wondered why Michael didn't have it tied back now.   

...we have two specially designed suits that double as both animatronics and suit!   

"I feel like I remember hearing about these before." Jeremy mused, pausing the recording. "But I'm pretty sure they'd been discontinued." He flipped through his note pages to see if he'd written that down somewhere. "I can see why."  

"Seriously," Michael straightened, folding his arms across his chest. "Those locks would spring if you so much as breathed on them too hard."  

Jeremy snickered "You say that like you've been in one."  

He would have resumed the recording if not for Michael's pointed silence.  

Jeremy slowly spun around to face him, chair creaking as he leaned forward.  

"Michael?"  

His eyes flicked to Jeremy's for a moment before latching on the wall through the window, lips pressing into a thin line. He cringed a little when Jeremy finally piped up.  

" Have you been in one??"  

Michael opened his mouth, then closed it again, shifting his weight a couple times, still not looking Jeremy in the eye.  

"Yeah, I've been in one before." He finally answered, waving Jeremy off and pressing play.  

So please pay close attention while learning how to operate these suits as  accidents/injuries/death/irreparable and grotesque maiming can occur.  

Jeremy turned a horrified look on Michael.  

"You were in one of those?!"  

Michael threw his hands up defensively, "I mean, just once! And it wasn't by choice!" 

Jeremy took a moment to blink at him, not bothering to close his hanging mouth. "Michael, that's worse!"  

"Well--" Michael rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. "Let's be honest, we've been through worse, haven't we?" 

Jeremy just frowned, hoping to get a little more out of him.  

Michael leaned a hand back on the desk, sighed, and rolled his eyes, but there was a smile on his face. "I wasn't hurt or anything, so it's fine! C'mon, we need to listen."  

Jeremy figured he'd let it drop, for now , and resumed the recording.   

..the animatronics are set to turn and walk towards sound feed...  

Jeremy scribbled some notes in case they happened to be helpful later, anything and everything could be important. Michael was playing with some chipped pieces of dry wall, flicking them back and forth between his fingers. Maybe he didn't think so.  

"Alriiight!" Michael yawned as the recording ended. "Let's start on these first few boxes. I'll make sure to keep an eye on our guy by Cam 6. Time to see if this thing's alive or not."  

Jeremy finished scribbling down his thoughts as Michael slammed his hands on the desk and stood up, immediately crashing back down into his seat.  

Jeremy flicked his head to the side and dropped his pencil, surging forward.  

"Woah, hey, you okay?"  

Michael had a hand to his forehead and was breathing hard. He let out a puff of air that could have been a laugh and nodded, which only seemed to make things worse as he doubled over and groaned.  

"Sorry," he said between light pants, "just got real dizzy all of the sudden."  

"Uh, here," Jeremy said, looking around the office, "do you need some water?"  

"Ugh, I left them in the car" Michael groaned through his hands pressed to his brow.  

"I'll go get them, you stay here!" And Jeremy was out the door before Michael could respond.  

The water bottles were in the backseat, tucked between Michael's backpack and bag of tools. On a whim, Jeremy made a random grab in the bag, pulling out a...something. He thought about how confidently Michael handled each of these tools while fixing the car earlier.  

It was kinda cool that Michael knew machines so well. Helpful.  

Putting the tool back, Jeremy tucked the water bottles under his jacket and locked up, the slam of the car door almost masking the crunch of distant footsteps on the icy asphalt.  

Almost.  

Jeremy ducked behind the car, sucking in a quiet breath as the cold metal stung his fingers.  

The footsteps got closer, then further; they were walking past him. Maybe another worker?  

Jeremy ventured a peek through the passenger window, trying to keep his breath from fogging up the glass.  

A swaggering figure was striding past Michael's car and to Jeremy's bike. The figure stepped into the light of the lot's single street lamp and Jeremy almost let out a sigh of relief.  

It was just the druggie from the gas station.  

"Why, hello." the druggie said smoothly and for a panicked moment Jeremy thought he'd been spotted.  

Jeremy ducked back out of sight, flinching at the undeniable sound of the bike being kicked over. He winced knowing that definitely made a new dent.  

Jeremy slowly crept back up to take another peek as the druggie laughed to himself before striding to the entrance.  

"Hey Blooooondiiiieee!" The druggie pounded on the door, rattling its primitive pad lock. "I know you're in theeeeeeeere!"   

Jeremy wasn't sure if he should feel relieved anymore. The punk didn't seem to be very high this time, and he looked about ready to tear someone's head from their shoulders.  

… probably Jeremy's...  

As quietly as he could, Jeremy managed to slip back around the car to the side of the building without being seen. Being careful on his way back in, Jeremy crept through the back door then towards the office entry way.  

"Uh, Michael, we have a bit of a prob..lem..." Jeremy trailed off as he stepped into the room.  

Michael was backed away from the desk, cam monitor half closed and breaths coming quick and short. 

After a quick scan of the room revealed no immediate danger, Jeremy crossed the room and grabbed Michael firmly by the shoulder.  

"Hey, what's wrong? Did something happen?"   

Breaths starting to slow, Michael closed the camera monitor and pointed to the maintenance panel.  

Jeremy swung it open but didn't see anything out of the ordinary.  

"It was—the ventilation." Michael said between pants, shuffling over. Jeremy's eyes widened as he felt Michael's hand slip into his jacket and pulled out a water bottle. Jeremy swallowed, grabbing the other bottle from his jacket and taking a quick swig himself.  

Michael chugged almost half of his in one go, removing the bottle with a satisfied smack of his lips.  

"That already feels better. Thanks."  

"Uh, mmhm. No problem."  

Michael set the bottle on the desk before collapsing into his seat, running a hand through his hair before raising his head to look at Jeremy.  

He began to wonder if it was considered rude to stare if the other person was also staring at you. 

Michael's brow was furrowed, and his lips were folding in on each other, eyes darting all over Jeremy's face.  

"What is it? 

Michael's eyes flicked to the side and he drew in a slow breath.  

"I just...earlier, I thought I saw..." He shook his head at the ground and didn't finish. Instead he just rubbed a hand across his face and spun around towards the mass of boxes.  

"Let's just get started on this, yeah? Can't be wasting time." Michael stood and began rolling up his sleeves, just like he had when he started work on his car.  

The car... parking lot... druggie... 

"Oh yeah!" Jeremy shouted aloud, startling Michael for the second time that night.  

"I almost forgot, we've got company!"  

"What??" Michael exclaimed, following Jeremy to the security cam panel.  

"Look." Jeremy switched to the feed of Cam 10, "Remember that guy from the gas station?"  

"Yeah," Michael grumbled,  squinting at the fuzzy screen. "That's him?"  

"Positive."  

The druggie was wiggling through the same window Jeremy had used to get in the night before, and watching the intruder flail into the building, Jeremy couldn't help but feel a little proud that his own entrance had been a lot more graceful.  

The druggie was looking around and shouting some more, kicking over everything he came into contact with. Jeremy gasped, grip on the monitor tightening as the druggie kicked over a box full of papers, stepping on them and tearing them apart.  

"Ah! He's gonna ruin something important!!" Jeremy left the monitor and headed for the doorway.   

"Woah woah wait, where are you going?" Jeremy was yanked backwards by a hand on his upper arm. He turned back to look at Michael who's expression was dark for just a second before pulling into a sharp smirk.  

"I'm the security guard, remember? This is my job, I'll handle this."  

He lightly pushed Jeremy down into his seat and strode out the office and past the window.  

It took Jeremy a moment to realize that he was gripping the hem of his shirt a little too tightly and smoothed out the wrinkles.  

As cheesy as he could be sometimes, Michael was really cool.  

Shaking his head, Jeremy leapt up and opened the cam feeds. The druggie had taken his tantrum into the next room by cam 8, tearing drawings off the walls and emptying boxes of papers and props. There was a nagging feeling in the back of Jeremy's mind that something was wrong here, like he was forgetting something important.  

He flicked to cam 2 and sure enough found Michael there, taking his time making his way down the hall, rolling his shoulders and blowing his bubble gum.  

Jeremy felt himself once again assaulted by a feeling he was beginning to get used to. That burning urge to know more about Michael Schmidt: where he came from, exactly why he decided to uproot his life years ago to pursue this killer. And what exactly was he hi-- 

Jeremy's thoughts were interrupted by a scream.  

He froze where he sat, the sound continuing, soft enough to tell it was coming from the other side of the building, loud enough to hear the fear in it. Fingers trembling, Jeremy flipped back to camera 8. 

The druggie was on the floor, scrambling back towards the entrance.  

The glowing Chica head on the floor lit up his terrified face as he continued to scream.  

Thoughts racing, Jeremy flipped back to where the animatronic was.  

Or had been.  

The room was empty.  

Jeremy scrambled through the other feeds searching for Michael, but the panel filled with static and went black.  

[Video Error] flashed red on the screen and Jeremy could have started screaming himself.  

Slamming it closed, Jeremy rushed to fling open the maintenance panel to initiate a video reboot.  

The monitor beeped repeatedly, but the status didn't change.  

"C'mon, c'moooon!" Jeremy had to consciously unclench his fists, lightly rubbing at the imprints left in his palms.  

Stay calm, stay calm! He repeated to himself, as he contemplated leaving the office in search of Michael himself. But if he got caught, what good would that do?  

Finally the beeping stopped and Jeremy practically threw himself back to the video monitor, finding Michael by cam 5.  

He was just a hallway away but had stopped in his tracks. He was definitely wary because of the screaming, but there was no way he knew what was literally right around the corner.  

Taking a second to brace himself, Jeremy flipped back to cam 8.  

And there it was...the animatronic from yesterday.  

Its back was to Jeremy as it advanced on the druggie who was backing away further into the darkness.  

Its outer shell was rough with old fur and peppered with holes. It was opening and closing its hands, five grimy fingers shuddering as it reached out toward the man on the floor.  

Its once ridged limbs were now moving parts as it picked the druggie up and in one smooth motion slammed him against the wall before throwing him to the floor. Jeremy felt all the strength leave his body as he watched the animatronic throw a fully grown man around like a ragdoll.  

After slamming him into the ground one more time, the animatronic leaned over and the screaming abruptly stopped. Jeremy couldn't really see what was happening, but he got a pretty good idea by how the man's legs thrashed under the heap of metal and molding fur.  

A twisted mix of fear and nausea stuck itself in Jeremy's throat. He could barely breathe, let alone move.  

It was killing him. The animatronic was killing someone.  

And Michael's heading right for them.  

Frantically flicking back to cam 5, Jeremy could just barely make out Michael moving into the next room, poking his head in the entrance, trying to see what was happening on the other end of the hall. Michael took one cautious step forward and Jeremy pulled his hair so hard he was sure he ripped some out.  

"Nonononono! Michael no, don't go down there!!" Jeremy let go of his hair and gripped the sides of the monitor. What was he supposed to do??  

Michael kept slowly advancing, Jeremy couldn't reach him in time. His eyes raked over the monitor, looking for something, anything.  

The animatronic turned its head and Michael stopped as it rose from the ground, eyes flashing, jaw unhinging.  

Jeremy's eyes landed on the "Play Audio" button. With no time to think, Jeremy flicked to another camera and slammed a finger on the button.  

"Hello?" Came the call of a child's voice, loud and echoing.  

Jeremy switched cams just in time to see the animatronic whip its head around and immediately charge into the other room.  

Michael thankfully took his chance to turn around and make a break for the office.  

Jeremy switched between cameras to keep an eye on the animatronic stalking by cam 10 and follow Michael sprinting down the halls.  

He was just two rooms away when he stopped dead in his tracks, figure silhouetted by a flashing light from the ceiling. After some confused cam switching, Jeremy found the animatronic still searching for the source of the noise back by the entrance. 

Why did Michael stop? 

Flipping back to cam 2, Jeremy saw Michael staring right at the camera, a serious look on his face.  

Michael said something but Jeremy couldn't make it out, instead trying to decipher Michael's vague series of hand gestures. With a firm shift in his stance, Michael pointed back the direction he came, then nodded at the camera.  

"You better not be--" 

Michael turned and ran back the other way.  

Towards the animatronic.  

The animatronic that just killed somebody.  

The animatronic that already made its way back to the dead body by cam 8.  

The room Michael was heading towards.    

"Aaaaaaahhhh!! What are you doing?!! " Jeremy whisper yelled, frantically playing audio in another room out of Michael's path.  

[Video error]  

"Oh you have got to be kidding me!!"  

After ensuring that the animatronic followed the sound well into the room, Jeremy went back to Michael who was dragging the body back out the front door.  

Michael was safe out there, right? As differently as they acted from each other, no animatronic ever... left the building... still... 

Jeremy monitored cams 6 and 7 where the animatronic was lurking in the dark. It was difficult to make out with the fuzzy camera feed, but there was something...unnatural about the way it moved. It seemed almost...methodical in its searching.  

'..the animatronics are set to turn and walk towards sound feed' Jeremy remembered from the recording. That, combined with its five fingers and shorter stature than other animatronics...of course. The animatronic was a Springlock.  

It was a Springlock suit in animatronic mode. Its program to follow sounds of children must have still been active.  

But as soon as it couldn't find what it was looking for, it would be back. Still, Jeremy allowed himself a moment to pat himself on the back for his quick thinking.  

Closing the cams for a moment, he gave the maintenance panel a once over and rebooted the flashing audio system. That could have been bad...  

He sat back down and absentmindedly sifted through some papers as he kept an eye on the animatronic. There really was something so incredibly unnerving about this one.  

Something was very wrong here.  

……………

Michael sprinted to the backdoor, not even considering the danger that might be waiting on the other side as he flung it open and dashed for the office.  

Jeremy looked up at Michael's clamorous entrance, shushing him with wide eyes.  

Michael held up his hands defensively but Jeremy was already turning his attention back to the screen. Relieved that things seemed to be okay, Michael lowered his arms and joined him, getting his first good look at the animatronic in action.  

"Your turn." Jeremy said unprompted, plopping down in his chair and rubbing at his eyes. "So, what did you do with the body?" 

Michael's eyes adjusted to make out the shape of the animatronic through the screen. "I think it might be best if I'm the only one who knows...just in case."  

Michael assumed the shuffling behind him was a nod, he didn't want to take his eyes off the thing. It had looked right at him, earlier in the hallway. It had been dead set on killing him too, of that Michael was certain. If Jeremy hadn't caused that distraction when he did...  

"Notice anything off about it?" Jeremy piped up from behind him.  

Of course there was. This was the creepiest piece of rusting machinery he'd ever seen. Not only was its condition more tattered and stained than others, but it was the way it moved. This one seemed more...intelligent. Which was not good for how bloodthirsty it had proven itself to be.  

Jeremy showed him how to play the audio with a couple tips on how to lead it around. Michael expected to find it easier than actual Freddy's locations because there was only one. But this thing was fast.   

Michael found he spend most of his time searching for where it ran off to through the cameras, almost having a heart attack every time he discovered it a little too close to the office than he would like. And it was even faster in the vents. He frequently found himself shushing Jeremy as he listened intently for any sign that it had started crawling through them.  

Michael lost all sense of time as he fell into an adrenaline-fueled flow, he wouldn't allow anything to break his concentration.  

That is, until he noticed Jeremy had been silent a little longer than normal.  

Michael risked a glance behind him to see Jeremy's gaze fixed towards the office's giant window, eyes wide, lips slightly parted.  

He looked terrified.  

Leaving the video monitor open, Michael dove to where Jeremy was sitting on the floor and knelt beside him.  

"Jeremy? What's going on, what's wrong??" 

Jeremy didn't respond, he just kept staring, but Michael didn't see anything there.  

"Hey, Jeremy, snap out of it!"  

He waved his hand in front of his face, a little afraid to touch him, in case that would set him off.  

But then Jeremy started trembling.  

"Hey, hey, Jeremy!" Michael gripped his shoulders trying to calm him.  

Jeremy's gaze was steady, eyes fixed despite Michael's tugging.  

"Can't you hear it?"  

Michael whipped his head back when Jeremy spoke, but his eyes were still locked on the bottom corner of the large window.  

"Hear what?"  

"It's here...it's right over there, how did it find me?"  

Tears were welling in Jeremy's eyes now and Michael tried shifting into Jeremy's view, but Jeremy only shoved him out of the way, still not looking at him.  

"Why do you want to hurt me! I'm here to help!"  

"Jeremy, please, tell me what--"  

Michael's pleas died in his throat when Jeremy screamed.  

Michael jolted as Jeremy threw himself backwards, grabbing at his head. And he just kept screaming.  

Then the lights went dark replaced by red flashes and Michael finally connected the dots.  

The ventilation was down.  

'You'll start seeing some crazy stuff man, I'm serious,' That's what the phone dude had told him. And what was Jeremy likely to see in a nightmarish place like this?  

"Please just go away!" Jeremy screamed, arms clamped over his ears. 

As if there was a loud sound.  

And the way Jeremy was clutching his head...  

"Jeremy!" Michael cried, diving back to the floor at Jeremy's side. "Jeremy, it's not real! The Mangle isn't here! It's just the--" 

Right, the ventilation.  

Michael got to his feet so fast his vision darkened at the edges, but he pushed past it as he flipped open his maintenance panel.  

Error flashed red beside the ventilation system status.  

Michael pressed it firmly and ran back to Jeremy, who was now holding his hands out in front of him, blocking the space between him and what Jeremy must have seen as the Mangle creeping in the window.  

Something on the video monitor moved in the corner of Michael's eye and he felt dread settle into the pit of his stomach as he realized what it was. Stumbling over Jeremy's crumpled form on the floor, Michael flicked to the next camera to see the animatronic bolting for the office.  

It's attracted by noise. And Jeremy had been making a lot of it.  

Forgetting to try and be gentle, Michael snatched Jeremy's wrist and yanked him to his feet, tugging him towards the door.  

"Jeremy, we gotta run, we need t--"  

"Michael?" Michael turned to see Jeremy looking at him. Finally!  

"Hey, welcome back." he tried lightheartedly. Jeremy's face was still dangerously pale, and he was shaking so badly Michael wasn't sure if he could stay standing much longer. But he seemed to be getting his bearings slowly as he got more oxygen in him.  

"Jeremy, listen to me. The animatronic's on its way here, we have to--"  

Michael dropped Jeremy's hand and felt dread sucker punch him in the gut as two eyes stared at him through the office window.  

It was here. And it was the most hideous abomination Michael had ever seen.  

Its matted fur was stained and torn all over, metal bits sticking out, broken pieces hanging off of it. Its body was full of holes and one of its ears were missing, hanging wires sparking as it twitched under the greenish light. Its teeth were wide and flat, stretching all the way back to where its jaw unhinged. A perpetual grin that was anything but friendly.  

So why wasn't it attacking? The animatronic was still—wide, veined eyes staring right back at Michael before swiveling around the room. It looked just as frozen as Michael felt. It was maybe five steps away from the office doorway, why wasn’t it moving? Why wasn’t it coming for them?  

Its eyes were horrible, he couldn't look away. They bore into him as a nauseous fear spread throughout his body. He could barely remember the last time he was this afraid.  

A sudden loud slam reverberated through the building, and Michael wasted too much time wondering what it was before his eyes found the clock.  

6 am. On the dot.  

The day shift was here.  

The animatronic had flicked it head to the left at the sound, turning back to Michael with its moldy grin.  

And then it ran.  

Not into the office, but down the hallway. Michael allowed himself one second of relief before leaping  to the monitor to check on the girls.  

They were still walking casually, down by cam 5. Michael checked all the hallways in between but found nothing. Last, he checked the room it started in, where it had been placed by the crew for display.  

And there it was. Still as they day they first found it.  

Michael strained his eyes, but still saw no movement. It had just stopped. What on earth was going o- 

"Hey Gabe."  

Michael slammed the monitor closed and whipped around to the two girls standing in the doorway, flashing a smile he hoped looked casual.  

"Is the air a little thin in here, or is it just me? " Erin said, pulling up the maintenance panel. Valerie hovered behind her, shrugging at the clear ventilation status and nudging Michael aside as they made themselves comfortable in the office.  

Jeremy was nowhere in sight. Neither were any of his things.  

"Oh Gabe, I think something knocked your bike over during your shift." Erin said.  

"It wasn't us, promise!" Valerie laughed shrugging, "It was like that when we got here."  

"We put it back up for you, so don't worry, did have a bit of a dent though. Sorry about that."  

Michael struggled to follow their conversation. Why on earth would he be worried about some dumb motorcycle when he didn't know where Jeremy was? Michael hurried around the room, scooping up all his things, coming up with empty words to respond with.  

"Oh, yeah don't worry. That bike isn't even mine."  

"Wait, really?!" Valerie sat up sounding oddly disappointed. "And here I thought I could ask you for a ride sometime."  

Erin snickered before asking "Who's is it then? It was here last time at the start of our shift."  

"Oh, uh" He had to get out of here and look for Jeremy right now ! "It's a friend's! Yeah, he waits for me at the end of my shift and is waiting for me right now actuallysoIgottagobye!"  

Quickly excusing himself, Michael headed out the back door, slipping on muddy ice as he closed it shut behind him.  

A quick glace around revealed no Jeremy, but there were fairly clear footprints flattening the dying grass that led to the woods.  

He followed them up the slight slope and stopped at the first tree.  

"Psst, Jeremy?" Michael whispered loud enough for his voice to carry.  "Jeremy, where are you?"  

Silence. He ran further in, reminding himself he couldn't just start searching aimlessly or they'd both be lost. That was the number one rule about looking for someone who was missing. Don't get lost yourself.  

"Jeremy?" he tried again, a little louder this time.  

What would happen if he couldn't find him? Would he report him missing? Somehow get the police involved?  

Michael jogged past a few more trees, still calling Jeremy's name.  

No, no police. They were never any help anyway.  

Leaves crackled to his left and Michael turned, spotting blonde hair and a blue jacket.  

Jeremy's face poked out from behind one of the larger trees, and he gave Michael a long, blank stare.  

"Michael..."  

Frowning slightly, Michael approached, "...yeah... it's me..." 

"Sorry I—I just," Jeremy fully stepped out from behind the tree now. He looked smaller, closed in on himself. There was a light color to his cheeks, and a hesitance in his gaze. "Sometimes I...sometimes I just forget." 

"You forget?"  

"But it's not just you!" Jeremy quickly added, throwing his hands forward, brows and lips curving down sadly.  

"I forget who I am a lot of the time or where I am and what I was doing... it uh...it really only lasts for a few minutes though." 

Michael took a couple steps forward. "So...when you left the office just now..." 

Jeremy swallowed, nodding. "Yeah, I...I didn't know who you were or what we were doing there, and I couldn't really be bothered to think about who I was. I just knew I had to run and hide as soon as that animatronic left."  

"But--"  

"And I know it was probably a good idea to tell you earlier that this happens sometimes, but I didn't want to give you another reason to ditch me again--" 

"Jeremy--" 

"--and since you said you're apparently 'done with that now'" he mimicked with air quotes, "I figured it is better that you know this happens to me sometimes, just in case I forget you again..." 

"But you said my name."  

Jeremy stopped for a breath at Michael's interjection, slowly truing to look at him before voicing quietly,  "… I did?"  

Michael nodded and Jeremy looked down at his feet.  

The rustle of wind-blown leaves filled the silence and Michael took another step forward but stopped mid-stride and slowly reached a hand out. 

"So...I mean—are you-- you remember everything now, right?"  

"I'm good now," Jeremy's head flicked up, flashing two thumbs up before stuffing his shaking hands back into his coat pockets. "I am. I'm good! I'm just..." Jeremy looked past Michael back at the building, face dropping again. "I'm really, really sorry."  

Jeremy met his eyes, looking absolutely miserable and Michael felt a painful tug in his chest.  

"Sorry?? Jeremy, if you're talking about the--" 

"I called him right to us, Michael!" Jeremy shouted, kicking at the auburn leaves.  "I can't believe that I -- I almost got us both killed! It came this close to the office," he emphasized with his fingers before dropping his fists to his sides, "and it was because of me !"  

"Hey, hey c'mon Jer," Michael let the nickname roll off his tongue as he fastened both hands onto Jeremy's shoulders. He was not going to let Jeremy go down that spiral. He waited until Jeremy met his eyes but as soon as they did Michael's mind went completely blank.  

What should he even say?  

A million possibilities swam through his head, with them, possible responses from Jeremy that would only make the other man feel worse.  

Jeremy had no control over what happened, but that was probably why he was so upset in the first place. And really, if anything it was Michael's fault for focusing so much on the animatronic that he forgot to keep an eye on the ventilation. But none of that was right to say.  

Now wasn't the time to place blame, not even on himself. They both could have been more careful. He messed up, but now he knew he wouldn't make the same mistake again.  

Michael squeezed Jeremy's shoulders and gave him a firm little shake.  

"We made it out Jeremy, and that's what matters. Nothing even happened for you to be at fault for, so there's no sense beating yourself up over this. Tonight caught us off guard, and we'll be better tomorrow...do you believe me?"  

Jeremy looked back and forth between Michael's eyes before glancing at one of the hands on his shoulders. Michael steadily watched Jeremy as his gaze traveled up the arm and back to his face.  

After a big deep breath, Jeremy's lips slid into a wan smile.  

"Yeah, I think I do. And thanks, Michael, for helping me back there. Really, I owe you one." 

Michael snorted, letting his hands drop. "You don't owe me anything, don't be ridiculous."  

"Okay, well, maybe not owe... But I wanna... - 

Jeremy cut himself off with a large yawn, casting a shy look at Michael who just pat him lightly on the arm.  

"Okay, you need sleep. Let's get out of here." 

Jeremy rubbed at his eyes, and it was probably the most adorable thing Michael had ever seen.  

"You're going to sleep too, right?" Jeremy asked and Michael nodded, rubbing the back of his neck.  

"Yeah, I just gotta go over some stuff first. I was thinking that maybe I'll draw my own map of the place, then I'll--" Michael let out a sudden, big yawn himself, covering his mouth with his free hand. 

"Michael, at this rate, your eyebags will have bags." Jeremy rolled his eyes, picking up his things and making his way towards the car.  

"Let's head back, we'll both get some sleep, and we'll compare notes over lunch. My treat."  

Michael barked out a laugh and stuffed his hands in his pockets, following close behind. "Well, no way I'm saying no to that."  

Michael climbed into his car and Jeremy mounted his bike and they rode down the empty streets side by side.  

… 

Michael knew having hallucinations of Balloon Boy at work was not a good sign. Now he was even dreaming about him. Or rather...dreaming he was him.  

"Oh you've gotta be kidding me." Michael gave the balloon in his hand an experimental tug and felt himself pulled upwards instead.  

"Woah woahwoahwait!" Michael cried out as he lost the platform he was standing on and clung to the string of his balloon as he slowly drifted down into darkness.  

Everything around him was black, though if he stared into the darkness hard enough, he could almost make out shapes, some human-esque, some not.  

"What in the worl—woah!" Michael's feet were suddenly sliding on a rubbery surface and he looked down to see he had landed atop a giant red balloon, with several others forming a kind of path to what looked like nowhere.  

Michael was tempted to just sit down and try to fall back asleep, but something familiar compelled him forward. There was something on the other side. Something important that he had to get to.  

He groaned before taking a step back to prep for a jump, leaping across the gap and landing stomach-first on the other balloon.  

"Ugh..well that was...graceful." He picked himself up, continuing to leap from giant balloon to giant balloon, the small one held tightly in his hand helping him float across the void below.  

When he finally got to another platform, he could almost make out a small figure on the other end. It looked white, and it was curled in on itself.  

When he got closer he realized it was a child, human, and very very small. Somehow, he couldn't make out any distinctive features about them, besides the tears that spilled from their eyes and onto the platform.  

Their eyes were squeezed shut, face contorted in sorrow. It's so lonely here , Michael thought as he watched them cry silently into the empty space.  

Michael's heart ached at the sight and he dropped down on one knee, reaching a hand out but not touching them.  

"Hey, kid, are you hurt? What's wrong?"  

They didn't even look up at him, they just kept crying, tears endlessly streaming down their face. The image was hauntingly familiar, and Michael felt tears begin to well up in his own eyes.  

"Please...please don't cry, I-I have something for you!" Michael tried to hand over his balloon, with no result.  

"Please, tell me what I have to do to help you feel better." Michael said, making his voice as soft and soothing as possible. He put a hand to his chest, patting it lightly. "That's what I'm here for...but ya gotta help me out, kid."  

The child said nothing, still barely acknowledging Michael was even there other than a slight turn towards the sound of his voice.  

Michael thought about what Jeremy had told him that morning, about his odd dream with Mangle and about finding a... 

"Hey, do you like cake?" The child hiccupped and cracked one eye open at that, nodding ever so slightly.  

Somehow he knew, before he even looked down, that there was a cake in his hands.   

"Wow! It's bigger than you are! And you get it all to yourself!"  

Michael placed it gently on the ground in front of them and the child's sobs stopped. Finally, they looked up, eyes growing wide in disbelief, with a nigh imperceptible dash of childish glee behind it.  

Without warning, his vision began to crackle like TV static and he winced as a sharp pain jabbed between his eyes.  

Everything around him stopped.  

Chapter Text

"I think you forgot a camera. Over here." Jeremy pointed to a spot on Michael's hand-sketched map.  

"Oh, right, there are two in this room." Michael stretched his arm across Jeremy to scribble one in.  

His arm bumped Jeremy's on the way there, and he realized he no longer felt the need to mutter an apology.  

"That solves our earlier problem then, cause I'll actually be able to see into the entrance of this hallway..." 

He and Jeremy had been working all morning on a fool-proof plan to avoid dying their next shift, seeing as they barely survived last time.  

The more Michael thought about going back to that animatronic, the more unnerved he felt. Thoughts of what it could have done to them if the day shift had been even a second late kept Michael up long after they got back.  

But that wasn't the only thing keeping him on edge now, because every so often, Jeremy would pipe up with something incredibly distracting like 

"Michael, are you an artist?"  

He jerked his head up at Jeremy's question. "I- don’t think so? Why?"  

Jeremy gestured to the map, taking his eyes off Michael's for just a second before flicking back up.  "It's just really nice. You've got steady hands." 

There was no way Michael could properly focus.  

To make things worse, the more Michael tried thinking of the best way to go about the nights, the more a certain plan formed in his head—one he was worried Jeremy wouldn't like. Of all the things that Michael Afton had to be afraid of, he found himself oddly anxious at the thought of sharing it.  

Embarrassing as it was to admit, he ran through several scripts in his head trying to come up with the best way to phrase it.  

Just when he felt like he'd finally come up with good enough wording, all his confidence flew out the window when Jeremy yawned and laid down on the carpet beside him.  

"Michael, we've been at this for hours! Let's take a break, yeah?"  

"Uh, sure, we can take a break." Michael felt a hand swat at his back from behind him and he turned around.  

Jeremy was still laying down, not even looking at him, and swat at him again.  

"C'mon Michael, lay down. You're gonna break your neck if you keep sitting like that." Jeremy lifted his head just enough to greet Michael with a playful smile. "Or your whole back maybe, not that your posture can get any worse."  

Michael snorted and rolled his eyes, but laid back, resting his laced hands over his middle and letting his gaze wander over the ceiling.  

He should tell Jeremy now. Nothing good would come from continuing to put it off; it was a conversation they needed to have.  

Still, Michael held it in a little longer as he watched reflected light from cars outside drift across the ceiling.  

Jeremy was silent for so long Michael was sure the other man had fallen asleep. He turned his head to the side to be met with Jeremy's sharp gaze.  

Michael's breath caught in this throat, but only for a moment.  

Jeremy had this look that made Michael feel the other man could see right through him. He felt like he was really being looked at, like Jeremy could see who he really was.  

But that usual terrifying thought felt overwhelmingly sweet in this moment. Nobody had ever looked at him the way Jeremy did, and Michael was beginning to enjoy it more than fear it.  

Just tell him, it'll be fine, trust him to take it well.  

Michael wasn't sure if those thoughts were coming from him or Jeremy's gaze. He felt so safe, like he didn't have anything to be afraid of. He remembered that he and Jeremy were a team now.  

Who knew it could be so nice?  

"So Jeremy, I was thinking..."  

"Hmm?" Jeremy's eyes were wide, curiously waiting for Michael to continue with a slight smile on his lips.  

Michael was finally able to tear his eyes away, but kept his head turned toward Jeremy. "So, the ventilation going down is bad for me, but, seeing what happened yesterday... it's even worse for you." 

Michael looked back at Jeremy to check his reaction.  

"...yes that's true..." His smile was gone now.  

 "So I was thinking it might be best if you- weren't in the office."  

Jeremy's lips parted in silent surprise and Michael was quick to cut in in case Jeremy was about to protest.  

"I'm not kicking you out, promise! I just think maybe you should stay by the entrance instead. You know, where we can keep the window cracked open and give you a steady flow of air. That way, when the ventilation fails it won't affect you as much while I get it up and running again." 

Okay, he said it, it was out there! But Jeremy wasn't responding as immediately as he thought he would.  

"...so..."   

"So?" 

"What do you think?"  

Jeremy held his gaze for a long time, and Michael could have outwardly groaned at how difficult it was to read that look. He didn't look angry, but he didn't look happy either.  

Jeremy abruptly sat up, and Michael couldn't help but follow suit, bracing himself for the worst.  

Jeremy crossed his legs and leaned towards the map. "Show me."  

Michael crossed his legs too and scooted closer, pointing to room ten with the end of his pen.  

"This room here, remember? Where you broke into the first time?"  

"Again, I don't think it could be called 'breaking in' if I didn't break anything." His playful smile was back and Michael relaxed a little.  

"I see," Jeremy continued, tapping the upper window Michael had sketched on the building's perimeter. "We'll keep this open so whenever the ventilation fails...I'll be fine."  

"...yeah."  

"And you're okay being in the office alone?"  

"I'd feel better if you were over there instead." 

"That's not what I asked."  

Michael pursed  his lips and sighed. Why couldn't Jeremy just agree? He appreciated it though. Michael met his eyes so he knew he was serious.  

"I really will be okay."  

Jeremy went quiet again, nodding as he turned his focus back to the map. Then, taking the pen from Michael's hand, drew a little stick figure in Room 10.  

He let the pen roll from his fingers and across the map as he sat back and gave Michael a bright smile.  

"Sounds good to me. If you're okay then I'm okay."  

Michael felt like he'd been slapped in the face by the overwhelming rush of relief and gratitude.  

"It might be better this way, actually" Jeremy continued, laying back down on the carpet.  

"This way I can talk to myself all I want and not bother you, Mr. Security Guard."  

"Oh, don't even-" Michael retaliated, lightly shoving Jeremy's shoulder, but joining him back on the floor. "The only talking that's irritating is the manager who leaves recordings at the beginning of every shift, especially cause it sounds like he's just been recording those old employee tapes anyway." 

"Hey, why don't I just find where he's getting those old tapes from and listen to them on my own? Then I'll fill you in later if anything was important!"  

"Yeah, it'd be easier for you to focus on the investigation, I'll have my hands full with that murder rabbit." 

"I'll have my phone on me, and you can reach me through the office phone so we can still communicate!"  

"Jeremy that's perfect! With your full focus on that, I'm sure we'll track down where Afton went."  

"Yeah, and it might be helpful if I start looking into his family too!"  

...wait what?    

"What?!" He said before he could think. Everything had stopped, his heart, his blood, his breath-- 

"William Afton's family?" Jeremy continued, unconscious of Michael's growing panic. "I know he was married and had kids, but we still don't know anything about them! I think we might find something useful if we--"  

Everything was out of focus. Michael had his back to the floor but he felt like he was falling. Jeremy talked around him as everything kicked back in. Now it was all too fast, his heart, his thoughts, his breaths.  

"No!"  

The sound of his own voice brought everything into focus, somewhat. He could breathe properly, and acknowledge Jeremy, who had stood up at some point, and was looking down at him with his eyebrows drawn.  

"Why not? I thought it was a good idea. What's the issue?"  

Michael's heart was racing, he couldn't think of a good enough excuse, not before Jeremy would begin to wonder what his problem was. Why did Jeremy have to be so darn curious? And always ask all the right questions?  

"I just...don't think it's important. It's a waste of time."  

"How could it be a waste of time?" His voice was rising slightly, "Tracking down his family could give us insight into where he might be!"  

"His- family has nothing to do with him at this point--" 

"Well we can at least get closer to understanding more about him, and--"  

Michael had hoped that he and Jeremy could work towards finding his father without trying to dive into anything too...personal. In truth, Michael couldn't think of much that learning more about his family could do to help locate where his father went, but as Michael had been suspecting for a while now, while Michael was dead set on finding his father, Jeremy was in it to solve the mystery. All of it.  

"No, Jeremy, it's literally a dead end, I've checked! All of them died a long time ago."  

"What?! How?!"  

"I don't-know."  

"You mean you didn't look into it??" 

"I—no?"  

"Well, doesn't that make for a more compelling argument for me then?" Jeremy folded his arms and leaned back in his seat. "His whole family is dead? How did that happen? Is it connected to how all this started? Were they his first victims?"  

Oh Jeremy, you have no idea... 

"Jeremy, please-" Michael was losing his cool, fast. He was finding it harder to get a good breath and he was panicking under the pressure.  

What on earth could he say to get Jeremy to let this go? Anything he'd said so far just made it worse.  

"Jeremy," he began, taking on a harsher tone that he hoped would shut down the conversation, "I really need to work on this okay? If I don't get this, we're dead tonight, you hear me? Dead. Maybe looking into...Afton's family is important, but it can't be more important than this right now."  

"Michael--" 

"You know what Jeremey, just do what you want!" What could he possibly find out here anyway? His father and the company had done a pretty good job of covering up everything from the start. Maybe it couldn't hurt to send him on a wild goose chase.   

Jeremy didn't say anything for a while and Michael pretended to scan over his map for the hundredth time, making random scribbles in the margins.   

After what felt like an eternity, Jeremy stood up and walked around the room, making some shuffling noises before opening the door.  

"You must be stressed. I won't add to it. You focus... I'll be back for dinner. My treat, remember? Be thinking about...where you wanna go. You can pick anywhere you want."  

And the door shut behind him.  

Finally able to break his unfocused stare through his map, Michael laid back on the floor and tried to breathe.  

Well that could have gone better.  

But even though it ended on that sour note, Michael was grateful Jeremy finally left.  

But he left to start finding answers, you know that. Answers about you, and Lizzie, and Evan... 

Michael's mind was already dizzy with panic, and now the anxiety of what Jeremy might find was starting to eat at him.  

Calm down, you don't have any real reason to worry. The coverups are solid, that's why no one believed you back then.  

Michael sat back up, blinking at his map through his bangs.  

What could Jeremy possibly find?  

................

Jeremy hit the jackpot.  

He had been skeptical at first about how helpful this town's library would be, but turns out they had a state archive in their basement, and Jeremy was ready to make the room's tattered armchair his home for the rest of the night.  

After making up some lie about a research project for a dissertation, Jeremy was shown the organizational system then left to his devices.  

After the rough morning he'd had, this was the kind of big break he needed to raise his spirits.  

Choosing to start at a time long before any reported murders, Jeremy began flipping through the papers for any reference to William Afton and/or his family.  

It didn't take long for the name Afton to come up, in a front page article no less. It was an announcement for the opening of Afton Robotics. Pictured under the headline was a handful of older guys, "topnotch mechanics and engineers" according to the caption.  
"Oh right, I've heard about this," Jeremy contemplated aloud. "I totally forgot, Afton Robotics didn't just  support animatronics for the Freddy Fazbear Franchise."  

His evidence was in an article just a year later. This time the title was a little more interesting.  

Circus Baby's Pizza World Closed Due To Gas Leaks 

The article itself didn’t expound much on the heading. They had simply kicked everyone out in the middle of opening day, followed by an announcement of indefinite closure and relocation of the animatronics. Interestingly enough, that new location was Afton Robotics, to be kept available for 3rd party rentals.  

Jeremy briefly wondered why an establishment under Fazbear Entertainment (definitely NOT known for their health and safety parameters) would completely close down like that for something like gas leaks. But who knows, maybe their sublocations had higher standards.  

Jeremy continued flipping paper through paper, chugging the dregs of his water bottle and nearly choking on it at the next Afton-related article he found.  

Missing Girl Found Dead in River 

Jeremy was practically buzzing with excitement as he dug into the text, copying almost every other sentence into his notebook.  

Elizabeth Afton was found dead early Friday morning by a patrol unit of community volunteers. Her father, William Afton, co-founder of Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, reported her missing nearly three weeks prior, and the whole town is devastated at the news of her death, the direct cause of which is still unknown.  

Jeremy's stomach was doing summersaults as he continued.  

Investigations continue in attempts to discover just what happened to lead to this young girl's premature death. Pictured above is her funeral service, attended by Afton, his ex-wife Laura Larson, and his two sons.  

But Jeremy couldn't find anything else about it. In the months following, the case seemed to have gone cold.  

Jeremy looked back in his notebook at the date of the article on Circus Baby's closure. It was just short of a week before William Afton's initial report of his daughter's disappearance.  
Jeremy's heart sank as the realization of what must have happened dawned on him.  

But the gut-wrenching news didn't stop there. Not even a full year later was a much tamer title, with a more chilling story.  

Tragic Accident At Fredbear's Family Diner   

Last Tuesday, at a birthday party hosted at Fredbear's Family Diner, a terrible accident involving one of the beloved animatronics resulted in the hospitalization of young Evan Afton. Afton's eldest was also hospitalized beside the victim due to minor injuries. It is unclear if they were also caused by an animatronic. The younger Afton's traumatic brain injury left him in a comatose state till he finally passed this Sunday. His father has arranged to hold a private burial at the local cemetery later this week.  

Jeremy raised a hand to his head, pressing his fingers gingerly to the scars of his close call. This boy's fate was very nearly his. But as much as Jeremy felt for him, he couldn't stop thinking about the elder brother.  

Jeremy wondered what it was like, having your younger siblings die like that and not know why. He couldn't even imagine what it would have been like to have William Afton for a father. Jeremy hoped that whatever happened to him that had eventually gotten him killed hadn't been too terrible.  

But after hours of searching, he couldn't find anything on the eldest son.  

It was weird. The last he'd seen of the boy was his hazy silhouette in the photo of the daughter's funeral. The last information he had was of his hospitalization with his brother. Could his death somehow not have been reported? Or... could he still be alive?  

Jeremy, it's literally a dead end, I've checked. All of them died a long time ago. 

Michael had sounded so sure.  

Jeremy groaned aloud and slid off his chair onto the floor. His legs were asleep and his eyes were sore. Why couldn't Michael just tell him what he knew??  

But then he remembered how stressed Michael had looked, back in the motel room before he left. He thought of how scared he looked earlier that morning, in the little forest behind Fazbear Frights.  

Even after almost dying because of him, Michael was more worried about Jeremy than himself.  

He had a lot on his shoulders, so Jeremy could forgive him for being a little unreasonable.  

Besides, if Michael could work out a plan to keep the animatronic away from both the office AND the entryway on his own, Jeremy could solve this on his own.  

He decided to step away for a while and come back to it later. He wasn't getting anything out of this, just more frustrated, and taking a break didn't sound like a bad idea, so he set the papers aside in favor of searching through more recent articles.  

Finally something relevant came up, an article concerning Afton Robotics, Jeremy gasped aloud at the juicy title: 

Massive machinery failure. 4 workers killed . Afton Robotics shut down.  

The picture was just of a building front surrounded by officers and police tape.  

Jeremy lightly skimmed the article, it was just a bunch of PR crap anyway. If Afton Robotics was anything like Fazbear Entertainment, "massive machinery failure" definitely translated to "hostile animatronics running rampant".  

Jeremy scribbled a side note to see if he could find out if the animatronics from Circus Baby's Pizza World were still at Afton Robotics at the time of this incident.  

Finally, floating in the middle of the article was the piece of information Jeremy had been searching for:  

Among the deceased employees was the eldest son of William Afton, co-founder of Fazbear Entertainment.  

The article continued on and on about William Afton, and Jeremy couldn't help but feel sorry for the son.  

"This is all you have for an obituary and it's more about your dad than it is about you." Jeremy commented aloud. Poor guy.  

After that article on Afton Robotics, Jeremy didn't really find anything new, which was alright. He got what he came for, confirmation that the Afton family really was all dead, except for the parents anyway. The mother had clearly divorced William years before the murders even started, and William himself was still on the run, reports about the mysterious murders dying out as time went on.  

Jeremy stood and returned his last stack to its proper drawer. He packed his bag back up and glanced at the clock on the wall. 5 minutes till closing, perfect timing. He thanked the librarian at the front desk on his way out and hoped on his bike.  

He took note of his slight unsteadiness and spared a quick glance at his reflection in one of the side mirrors.  

"Any chance you could help me make it back to the motel?" In hindsight, he probably should have given his eyes and brain a break at least once, gone out for fresh air or got some food, but he'd been too absorbed in everything he was discovering. He could hardly wait to review everything he'd written down, but his number one priority right now was getting back without blacking out in the middle of the street. He hoped Charlie could help him out again, she seemed to be able to help him pull through when it was clear his body could not. But she didn't seem to be in the helping mood tonight.  

Five minutes into the ride, his vision started phasing out. Quickly changing lanes, he turned off into a small shopping center and parked by a burger place. He really needed some food, or he wasn't going to make it the rest of the way back.  

Struggling to keep himself upright, Jeremy clambered off the bike and shuffled his way into the restaurant. He wouldn't normally go for fast food, but his spinning head and shaky knees demanded a change of pace, just this once.  

His stomach grumbled audibly and the woman in line in front of him turned. He straightened as much as he could, giving her a polite smile that she returned once she glanced down at the motorcycle helmet tucked under his arm. He watched her eyes move from him to his bike parked just through the glass doors.  

"Hey, sweet ride," she said giving him another once over, "I've seen it before." She turned herself fully towards him, ignoring the poor cashier who'd been trying to take her order. Jeremy realized he'd seen her before too.  

"Would you happen to know a Gabriel Geraldson?"  

"Yeah," Jeremy continued casually, realizing where he'd seen her before. "And you must be...Valerie?"  

"Oh, he mentioned me?" She didn't really say it like a question. "So you're the friend with the bike who waits up for him at 6am in the morning."  

Jeremy rubbed the back of his neck, sensing an opportunity. "Yeah, that job seems really neat. Would have applied myself if I wasn't...busy. So you work there too right?"  

"Mmhm," she hummed, finally spinning back around to glance over the poster menus. "Have been since we bought the building. With the place plannin to open soon, I've gotta work over time to get everything ready. Finally get a chance to eat somethin'. My guess is you're in the same boat?"  

"Well, here, let me." Jeremy reached into his pocket and leaned forward, handing the cashier a 20 bill. "I'll have a number 4, and pay for whatever she'd like. You can keep the change."  

Valerie did not hold back on her order, but the 20 was more than enough for both of them.  

As they ate, Jeremy let her direct the conversation through a slew of topics that barely connected with each other, doing his best to come up with engaging responses to seem as invested as possible.  

As she slurped up the last of her milkshake, Jeremy finally began steering the topic to what he was really here for. And Valerie seemed more than ready to talk all about it.  

"Seriously! So much of that stuff is plain garbage! But we keep just about everything, we wouldn't have much of an attraction if we didn't!" 

Jeremy laughed, resting his folded arms on the edge of the table. "Oh man, I can imagine. Have you really kept everything since the building got handed off to you guys?"  

"Mmm well, ya know, when they turned it over, there was a car parked up front. Nobody claimed it, it was just sitting there for months." 

Bingo.  

Jeremy tried to cover his excitement with indifference. "What'd you do with it? You didn't roll it in as part of the attraction did you?"  

Valerie threw her head back and laughed. "Now that'd be somethin'! But nah, we just called a tow company to take it." 

"What?" Jeremy gasped, drawing his brows together and dropping his jaw. "What if the owner came back looking for it?"  

She waved her hand and dipped another fry in her ketchup cup. "No way. Car was sitting there since we got the building three months ago, and I only called the people like last week."  

"Ah, I see....who'd you call?"  

"Eh, just some towing company."  

"I'd like to know, for future reference." 

Valerie frowned slightly before wiping her hands and reaching down to dig around in her purse.  

After a while, she pulled out a fraying business card. She flipped it between her fingers, squinting at the fine print before handing it to Jeremey.  

"Yeah, pretty sure this was the one."  

Jeremy greedily scanned over the contact information before sliding the card into his coat pocket.  

"Thanks Valerie! Anyway, I gotta run! Enjoy the rest of your dinner!" 

................

Michael rubbed his hands together and frowned at how little warmth his breath provided. He didn’t think it would get this cold this soon. He leaned back up against his car and tilted his gaze up to the stars.  

He knew if he kept waiting like this, he was just asking to be let down. He glanced down at his watch for the umpteenth time.  

Screw it, I'm calling him.  

Tapping his pockets to make sure he still had some spare change, Michael jogged across the street to a payphone and dialed Jeremy's number.  

… 

"Hello?"  

"Jeremy, hey. You know we have like... an hour before the shift starts, and its takes half that time to get there..."  

There was some shuffling on the other end before. "O-okay, sorry, lost track of time! Uh, I brought my bike with me, I'll see you up there!" 

He wanted to ask so badly. Where had he been all day? Why hasn't he come back yet? He'd semi-expected Jeremy to come shuffling back to the motel after just a couple of hours, search for answers unsuccessful. But deep down he knew better. Jeremy wasn't the type to back down like that just because it wasn't easy. But still, it was 11pm... 

"Where are you anyway? I thought you were coming back for dinner?"  

Gosh dang it, Michael, why'd you have to bring it up?  

Michael had honestly really been looking forward to dinner, even if it meant having to listen to whatever dirt Jeremy had dug up on his family.  

Jeremy let out a crackly gasp from the other end. "Shoot, Michael I'm so sorry, I totally forgot!"  

Michael chuckled so Jeremy would know he wasn't mad, and maybe he was laughing a little at himself. 

He knew there was a simple reason and explanation, Jeremy didn't mean to forget. The man could barely remember himself at times, Michael reasoned, remembering their talk in the clearing yesterday.  

"Nah, I couldn't blame you for something like that. I'll just pick something up on my way over there." 

"No, Michael wait! I don't want to give you the wrong idea!" A pause. "It really is my fault. I found this library archive, and got so caught up in everything I was learning, I totally spaced! But I take full responsibility for that, I don't want to duck behind my injury as an excuse."  

Michael allowed himself a moment to be caught up in gentle awe of another moment of true openness between them.  

But then something Jeremy said earlier stuck itself in the forefront of his mind.  

Library Archive?  

"So...did you find out what you wanted to know?" Michael tried to ask steadily, heart beginning to beat fast.  

"Yeah, and you were right, it was a dead end. His children died years ago. I mean, I don't know about his wife, but they divorced so long ago, I figured it'd be more trouble than it's worth to find her now." 

Michael swallowed. "Okay..so we're good? I'm- sorry I was kinda snappy about it before." He was just thanking his lucky stars Jeremy hadn't found anything particularly incriminating. Michael found he could breathe a little easier.  

Jeremy kindly assured him they were all good and they agreed to meet in the parking lot of Fazbear Frights.  

Michael ended up arriving almost a whole 10 minutes before Jeremy did, but Michael didn't feel a fleck of irritation the whole time he waited.  

When did you get so patient? He asked himself as Jeremy brought his bike up beside him and shut off the engine.  

"Hey Michael, I'm sorry I'm late, but could I grab something from your car real quick? I need it for tonight."  

"Uh-huh, yeah sure, whatever you need," he answered, watching Jeremy remove his helmet and run a hand through his hair.  

"Thanks," Michael still couldn't believe someone could smile that brightly at him. He felt like he could really relax for the first time that day.  

Jeremy opened the back door and physically recoiled.  

"Oh my gosh, what-- how were you driving on the way here??"  

The backseat of Michael's car had generally always been a mess of the man's belongings, but they'd at least been tucked into semi-organized piles before.  

"Uh...yeah," Michael said sheepishly, remembering all the red lights he almost ran. He opened the door on the other side and shifted some of the mess. "Sorry, I'll help move some of this--"  

Jeremy pushed a large duffle bag to Michael's side and continued digging through the various items dumped on the floor of the car.  

I probably should get rid of a lot of this. Michael thought as he moved over a box full of random junk he'd kept from various locations. Mostly things he thought could be important but proved to be useless in the end. Besides, he had to start thinking about making room for two now.  

"Oh, here it is!" Jeremy sighed out, pulling out a bent folder and extra pen. But then he looked back down and stopped.  

"Huh, what's this?" He asked reaching down, and Michael tried peeking over the pile stacked in front of him to get of glimpse of what Jeremy was looking at.  

When Jeremy finally pulled out what had been wedged under the seat, Michael couldn't believe the string of luck he'd had.  

Which was none.  

It had a cracked screen in a yellow frame, faded with age and disuse, but its design was as clear as the "Mike" label stuck to its top.   

Jeremy held Michael's HandUnit at arm's length trying to get a good look at it.  

Jeremy waggled it at him from across the car and inclined his head.  

"What's this?"  

"That's- that's nothing it's just--" 

"I've seen it before..." Jeremy turned it over in his hands.  

"How?" Jeremy turned his attention back to Michael at that.  
"Why? Should I not have?" He gestured to the nametag, "This is clearly yours, but I don't think it's from anything Fazbear... unless it's..."  

Now, Jeremy finding the old piece of Afton Robotics technology was bad enough, but Michael quickly realized it was about to get a lot worse when recognition shone in Jeremy's eyes.  

Jeremy lifted his gaze slowly back to Michael who, for once, read Jeremy's expression as clearly as his name on the label.  

Finally, finally a little of what you've been hiding.  

Jeremy held Michael's gaze as he walked around the back of the car to the other side.  

Gripping it by the handle, Jeremy lifted the screen up to Michael, who leaned back, just an inch.   

"Michael," Jeremy started carefully, "These were used by employees of Afton Robotics...Why do you have this?"  

"I- Jeremy it's not-" But Jeremy didn't give him a chance to finish.  

"Aren't you kind of young to have worked at a job like that? It was clearly meant for engineers and mechanics of high caliber. What made you so qualified?"  

Michael couldn't help bristling at the comment, remembering whispers from the other workers about him being a nepotism hire. 

"Hey, I got in because I'm good at what I do! I did that job twice as good as any team of those guys there!"  

Jeremy raised an eyebrow at Michael's unwitting confirmation.  

Crap.  

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" Jeremy's voice was calm, which Michael was grateful for, but his heart was still racing.  

"I- I didn't want you to get the wrong idea. Like...think I was connected to Afton in anyway and maybe have you not trust me. I mean, just because he started the company doesn’t mean I ever saw him or anything." 

"Well, I figured as much," Jeremy stepped in, clearly buzzing with something to share. "Which is a real shame cause I guess we could have learned more by now, but that's not what I'm getting at! I just read this morning that Afton's eldest son once worked there..." 

No way no way no way , how did he find out?!  

Michael swallowed and tried to take an inconspicuously deep breath. No matter what, he could not afford to freak out and let something slip again. He tuned back into what Jeremy was saying.  

"When did you work there?"  

Crap, when did he work there again? He had to make sure that Michael Afton and Michael Schmidt never worked there at the same time. He aimed for an earlier date, so that Mike Schmidt was long gone before Michael Afton even got there.  

"Oh!" Jeremy's eyes lit up at Michael's answer, "So that means you would have been working at the exact same time he was!"  

Shoot it's been longer than I thought! 

Not trusting himself to keep his facial expressions in check, Michael slammed the car doors shut and started trudging towards the building's backdoor.  

"Er, I guess? Maybe? But, I never met him. Guess we always had opposite shifts."  

Jeremy hurried after him, easily catching up and falling into stride with him.  

"Did anyone else you worked with ever talk about him? There's no way they didn't, he was the founder's kid, you must've heard something while you were working there!" 

"Why do you care so much?"  

Jeremy faltered for a second and Michael took his chance to surge ahead, but Jeremy kept pace just behind him.  

"Well- because he's...it's interesting. He lived alone with his father for years after his two siblings died. That was all during the time of the most widely reported of Afton's murders! Not to mention his temporary arrest and disappearance after his release." 

Michael made it to the door and started fumbling the key into the lock. He was suffocating with every new word Jeremy spoke.  

"He would have been the closest to William while all of that was happening, what if he knew something? And then he was killed in a supposed 'accident'?"  

"Oh c'mon Jeremy, he's not some martyred hero. He was a dumb kid who got killed in his dad's factory."  

"You say that like you knew him."  

Michael spun around and threw his hands in the air. "Okay, so I heard things! I guess he was nice, people liked him! He was a hard worker who was good at his job...he did everything he was told...and then he died."  

Old frustrations were welling to the surface, pooling at the corners of his eyes. He quickly turned from Jeremy and opened the back door, but Jeremy grabbed onto his shoulder, pulling him back just a bit.  

"How did he die? What happened at the facility that night?"  

Still keeping his head down, Michael wavered out a quick "I'm sure you can guess." and closed the door.

................

Door in his face and snow in his shoes, Jeremy took a moment to review that entire encounter in his head. Then he thought back to their argument that morning, and as much as Michael had tried to hide it, one thing was certain: Michael had known Afton's eldest son.  

Jeremy about faced and marched around to the front of the building, the parking lot's solitary streetlamp lighting everything a dull orange.  

 Something still wasn't adding up.  

A lot of things about Michael weren't adding up lately, first the thing with the Aftons, then with Afton Robotics, and now a potential connection to William Afton's son... Every time Jeremy tried to delve deeper it felt like he was being stopped, and too often recently it seemed to be Michael who was stopping him.  

But that didn't make sense. He and Michael were a team. They were trying to find the same answers and catch the same killer. Unless the topic of the Afton son was too...personal. Maybe they had even been friends.  

The image of Michael's tear-pricked eyes flashed again in his mind. Was this how Michael got involved in the first place? Had they been close, and now Michael was trying to avenge the eldest Afton's death? Like what he said before with the children? Then a nerve-wracking thought dawned on him. 

What if Michael...wasn't really Michael? What if he'd taken the name in honor of someone else again? 

Could he trust someone he might not even really know?   

Jeremy turned back to the building and thought of the man inside.  

Any second now, Michael would call him from the office phone and tell him it was safe to come inside. And would keep him safe all 6 hours of the shift, counting on him to help track down a man he'd been hunting for over a year.  

"Huh" he said to himself and to the quiet night around him. He was just a little surprised to realize that despite this new revelation, what he felt towards Michael did not change.  

He supposed it would be more silly to throw out everything he'd come to know about the other just because of some new information he didn't even have all the facts for yet, but still, it was nice to realize he still felt safe, despite not having all the answers right away.  

Jeremy stepped under the front window and tried to shake off the lingering thoughts doubting Michael's integrity. Whatever was going on, he was sure that ultimately, he could trust Michael. It sounded stupid, and logically unsound, but it felt right, more right than anything else.  

Jeremy held on to that feeling as his phone rang.  

Chapter Text

Michael’s hairs stood on end the second he sat down and found the animatronic on the cams. It was in the vent by cam 14… the vent that led directly to this office. 

Michael quickly shut the vent door and the animatronic froze in front of it. When he was sure it was sealed shut, he took a second to lean back in his seat and breathe. He’d just gotten here and it had already almost got to him?

Michael glared at the animatronic on screen as he tried to think of how to lure it out of the vent and away from the entrance. 

Now that he was getting another look at it, he could clearly see the 5 fingered hands and smaller stature of the rotting rabbit.  It probably was a springlock suit, as Jeremy suspected. It’d have to be smaller, human-sized, if it could double as a suit. Same for the 5 fingers. 

Michael was also hoping that was why it moved so unnaturally. The animatronic parts just connected differently, that had to be it. Afterall, he was pretty sure this was his first time seeing one not in suit-mode. 

He thought of his few other encounters with springlock suits, the most recent being the broken down Golden Freddy, and before that… 

I kidnapped you…You’re inside something from my old pizzeria… 

Startled by the clarity of  his own recollection, Michael forced the whispering memory out of his mind. He didn’t want to think of his time at Afton Robotics anymore than he had to. But something else was itching at the back of his brain. 

Another memory of a time he’d dealt with one up close. The first time. 

Right. He had seen one in animatronic mode before. He’d seen for himself how dangerous those springlocks were, how easily they spring loose, metal parts snapping into place. 

Crushing anything inside. 

A muffled pounding sound startled him out of his thoughts, and Michael zoned back in to see the animatronic crawling back out of the vent. 

Snapping himself back into the zone, Michael used the audio feature to lure the rabbit away from the entrance and tuck it into a far off room. 

There, that should be good for now.  

Proud of himself, Michael was beginning to feel pretty confident about how tonight would go, but then his spirits sank a little when he realized what came next. 

It was time to let Jeremy in. 

He dialed Jeremy’s number on the office phone, unsure if he should bother with a greeting as Jeremy picked up. Turns out Jeremy wasn't keen on one anyway, because there was only silence on the other end.  Michael cleared his throat. 

"It's safe, you can come in." 

When he finished wiggling through the window, Jeremy’s feet landed right in a puddle that had formed on the floor from a leak in the ceiling. Michael watched as Jeremy began frantically pushing and pulling his precious boxes away from the water, and he couldn’t help but find it a little funny. 

Smiling silently to himself, Michael checked on the animatronic again before closing the video monitor to reboot the ventilation again. 

…

After almost 2 hours Jeremy still hadn't said a word to him, and though the silence was almost unbearable, Michael wasn't about to be the one to break it. But then again, it really was his fault. He was the one still hiding things, even after all their talk of being able to trust each other. Just as he was opening his mouth to say something, Jeremy’s voice filled the silence. 

“Hey Michael?” 

"Yes?" Michael internally cringed at how relieved he sounded to finally be spoken to.

“We can’t keep ignoring it…”

Yeah, he was getting tired of ignoring it too. But acknowledging it meant fessing up to things he didn’t think anyone else would ever want to know.  

“Ignoring what? That disaster of a conversation we had outside?”

“...I know you once worked at Afton Robotics,” Jeremy said, right to the point. “I know you knew Afton’s eldest son from when you worked there, though I’m not certain if you had a relationship with the whole family. But I’m not gonna lie, you clearly have some connection to them.”

Michael figured anything he could say would just serve as a confirmation to Jeremy, so he stayed silent. Jeremy continued. 

“I just wanna say… you really don’t have to tell me anything. But I think you should. It would be good for you to finally get … whatever this is off your chest, and it would probably take us one step closer to finding Afton.”

He knew that. 

He knew that, but… he’d gotten a little too used to the idea that he and Jeremy could keep working together as they have been, without Michael needing to reveal anything more than he wanted to. Perhaps that had been an unfair expectation to have in the first place, and a little stupid, all things considered… 

He was getting so sick of lies and secrets, and he wondered if it was too much to hope that Jeremy would be able to handle the truth, and…and still trust him.  

Michael began to realize that since he met Jeremy, he knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he’d have to tell Jeremy one day. Tell him who he really was. 

He just didn’t think it’d be this soon. 

“Jeremy…I want you to know that– I do want  to tell you…to an extent. Just–” 

Not now. Please, just not right now. 

“I get it. But just…remember that little good can come from waiting on something like this.”

Michael couldn’t think of anything good that could come from Jeremy knowing he was the son of a serial killer . Unless Jeremy meant it would do Michael some good. Maybe it could. 

“I will tell you someday, Jeremy. I’m just…not ready yet.” 

“...okay. But there’s just one thing I think I should know.”

“What’s that?” 

“Your name really is Michael, right?” 

Oh.

Michael didn’t realize just how much Jeremy now had to be unsure of, now that it was clear Michael was hiding a lot. What struck him more was that this was the one thing Jeremy claimed to need to know, if he was still the man who said he’d see this through with him. 

Honestly, he was just grateful for Jeremy’s wording, so he could truthfully say, 

“Yes, I really am Michael.” 

Even through the grainy feed, Michael could see Jeremy’s face break into a smile. 

“Alright. Good… cause I don’t think any other name would really fit your face.” 

Michael laughed his nerves away. “And what’s that supposed to mean??” 

“All I’m saying is that ‘Gabriel’ really doesn’t suit you…and neither did ‘Fritz’.” 

Michael feigned offense, sputtering indignantly into the receiver and overemphasizing his accent in the way that made Jeremy laugh. They both laughed as loud as they dared until Michael realized his lightheadedness wasn’t only from his laughter. 

Trying to ignore phantoms hovering in the corner of his vision, he rebooted the ventilation and kept laughing with Jeremy.  

…

More time passed, and every now and then, Michael would check in on cam 9, and see Jeremy sat on the floor, one hand holding one side of a headset to his ear and the other hovering over the buttons of the tape player. Just as he was wondering whether Jeremy was learning anything useful or not, Jeremy hit pause, and lifted his phone to his ear, voice crackling from Michael’s receiver. 

"Michael?"  

"What is it, anything useful?”

“This training tape’s talking about saferooms known only to employees. Have you ever heard about anything like that before?” 

Michael told him he hadn’t, and Jeremy explained that, according to one of the training tapes, every Fazbear location had a “safe room” that’s apparently-  Michael watched Jeremy refer to the lines he’d just scribbled into his notebook as he relayed the information. “- hidden to customers, invisible to animatronics, and always off camera.” 

A cold dread pricked against his skin as he realized what Jeremy was getting at. 

“Sounds to me like the perfect place to commit a murder, especially if… I think it’s where springlock suits were kept after they were… wait a minute.”

Michael rebooted the audio system and quickly switched back to Jeremy’s camera. 

“What, what?!” 

“Wait a minute…waitaminutewaitaminute!!” 

Jeremy’s smile was wide, most likely from excitement of what he’d just pieced together, and nothing to do with the nature of what it was he discovered. Michael was sure whatever it was, it wouldn’t be good. 

“Michael, did you ever get a chance to listen to all the training tapes at the location I worked at??” 

“N-no, I don’t think so?” He’d been a little preoccupied with not dying at the time, but Jeremy seemed keen on filling Michael in himself anyway. 

Frantically flipping through his notebook, Jeremy spouted off more quotes from the phone guy he’d written down from the other location. 

“Michael, do you get it?? That suit he was talking about in the tape…it had been moved, and that’s when all the animatronics became possessed. William Afton used springlock suits as a disguise to bring children into these backrooms, kill, and hide them! No customers, and no camera!”

“But then how did a springlock suit get possessed here? If he’s the one who used it…” Michael was beginning to get a bad feeling about the way all of this was lining up. His stomach churned and his heartbeat felt out of control. 

Calm down, there’s no sense in jumping to nonsense conclusions and getting worked up over nothing. 

“I’m sure there’s all kinds of things that could have happened-” Jeremy guessed. Michael tried to hang onto that. “-the important thing is that now we know how he kept getting away with it for so long, and this is definitely why this room was bricked up before being sold off. What I don’t understand is why-” 

Jeremy went on and on about why so many things weren’t making sense here, but Michael stopped listening. He was focusing on the animatronic as it stalked up and down the halls. 

But now there was something even more unnerving about the unnatural way it moved. Because maybe it was unnatural because it was…too natural… 

Its movements were a little too smooth and fluid for an animatronic. 

He watched it methodically search for children as it instinctually followed the sound of laughter. But it wasn’t looking for kids to throw a birthday party, it was a predator searching for its prey. 

“Just what exactly are you?” Michael muttered under his breath. “Why would you be in the suit my father wore to kill you?” 

He supposed it was possible to kill a child with the suit. 

I recommend that you keep the springlocks wound up… 

You don’t want that to get too loose, trust me . 

All his father would have to do is put a child inside and their squirming and wiggling would take care of the rest. 

Michael leaned closer to the screen, static tingling his nose. Could there really be a body stuck in there? 

Michael thought about the other children in this place, the dark phantoms haunting the building and the crying spirits in his dreams. They were hurt, and angry, but this one’s anger felt colder. 

Whoever had died trapped in that springlock suit was different, different from all the others. 

…

Sitting alone in the office with his thoughts brought Michael to a fairly interesting conclusion. 

He did not like silence. 

His short time with Jeremy must’ve spoiled him, he used to like quiet. Quiet usually meant being alone, and that meant safety. 

On the other hand, Jeremy talked a lot, but Michael was starting to feel safe around Jeremy too. Which was occasionally a problem, because that came with the unlawful urge to spill all his secrets to the other man, but now, Michael was surprised to realize he found silence unsettling. 

It felt like hours since Jeremy had last said something over the phone, but it had probably only been a few minutes. 

He wanted to check the time, but the animatronic was starting to move quicker as the night went on, and Michael couldn’t really risk looking away from it for even a second. 

It almost seemed that the second it arrived in whatever room Michael had lured it to, it would disappear again and Michael would have to resume his mad scramble to find it. 

Unless it was by cam 4. 

That hallway was decorated with a mounted Foxy head on the far wall, and for whatever reason, whenever it was in that room, the rabbit would just stand there and stare up at it. 

Michael was able to buy himself a 5, sometimes 10 minute break by leading it there, just like he was now. 

After playing the audio from cam 4, Michael glanced at the clock. 

Wait, what?

4:46 am. It really had been hours since he last heard from Jeremy!

Eyes still on the animatronic, he leaned toward the phone. 

“Hey Jeremy, everything okay in there?” 

Only a muffled hum came from the receiver. He quickly rushed to Jeremy’s camera and relaxed when he saw Jeremy was still there. He was staring down at that puddle on the floor and…talking? 

“Jeremy,” Michael started, “I can’t hear you..” 

But as he watched the other, Michael began to feel that Jeremy wasn’t trying to talk to him. Jeremy’s phone was in his hand, but the receiving end was pressed into his thigh, Michael could even match up the sound of rustling cloth every time Jeremy shifted his stance. But he was talking, rather animatedly, at what must’ve been his own reflection in the water. 

At first Michael thought he might be doing more of those positive affirmation things Jeremy would do in the mirror sometimes, but he’d seen him do that before. 

Whatever this was, Jeremy didn’t want him to hear it. 

Michael brought the phone closer, trying to see if he could make out any words. He could barely make out the sound of Jeremy’s voice, but a few words did stand out.  

“..didn’t tell me….trust… Useful to me??…” His voice started to rise in volume, his free hand flicking wildly from side to side. Michael took a second to check on the animatronic. It didn’t look like it was hearing any of the noise. He kept listening, the louder Jeremy spoke, the more Michael could pick up.

“Orders?? You can’t…the only reason … because of me. I’m … be here right now!”

After another pause, Jeremy dropped down to the ground, nose inches from the water’s surface. The phone clattered out of his hand and across the floor, and Michael heard loud and clear,

“HEY! Where do you think you’re going??...Fine, if you won’t tell me, I’ll find out myself!” 

Jeremy stood again and kicked his foot through the puddle, then spun around and plopped himself back down by his boxes. Michael watched him just sit there and breathe and then bring his phone up. 

“Hey Michael, I’m not sure I’ve been getting much from these training tapes. Is there anything else here you know of that I should take a look at?” 

Right back into it, like nothing had happened. 

Michael played along. 

“You know, it looks like all this cam footage gets recorded. I think it’s possible one of the boxes has some of that film, from back from before the building was sold...”  

“Oh!” Jeremy shot up and immediately started shuffling things around. “I saw a collection of video cassettes somewhere here the other day. None of them were labeled, so I thought they were empty.”

“That level of negligence wouldn’t surprise me.” 

Jeremy chucked and Michael felt a little lighter, and almost forgot what he’d just seen. 

But it was clear Jeremy had been having a conversation, no, an argument, with someone or something. And Michael had a feeling it wasn’t just his own reflection Jeremy had been talking to. 

“Michael, I just realized..”

“Hm?”

“I don’t have anything to watch these on.” 

Oh. 

“I think I remember seeing a tv and vhs player in one of the other rooms, do you think there’s any way I could get to it?” 

Michael remembered it too, but if he remembered right, the old tv was being kept…

Michael clicked to cam 6 and sure enough, there was the tv and vhs on a wheeled cart.

“Jeremy, it’s too risky,” but as he said it, Michael knew it was no use, not only because of Jeremy’s persistence, but also because of his own. That cam footage could be the lead they need.

But standing right next to the cart in question was the animatronic rabbit. 

“Jeremy, I don’t know about this..”

“But you can do it, right? You can get me there?” 

Gosh dang it. 

Michael heaved a sigh and rebooted all systems, just in case. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I can do it, Jeremy.” He rolled his neck and straightened in his seat, ready to make life a million times harder for himself. 

“Ready when you are.” 

…………….

Jeremy had full confidence that Michel could keep him safe, and was glad to see it wasn’t misplaced. 

He didn’t see hide nor hair of the animatronic as he made his way down the halls; he almost forgot he had something to be afraid of. 

Man, Michael really does get good at this stuff fast, doesn’t he?

What he probably should have considered was the fact that the old cart the tv sat on would squeak and creak loud enough to wake the dead. 

Jeremy laughed internally at the irony of his own joke, then immediately ran and ducked for cover. 

“Stay right there Jeremy, he’s heading right for you, but he shouldn’t see you there. Just give me a second!” Jeremy nodded even though Michael wouldn’t see it. He clutched his phone tighter in his hand, metal and plastic pressing painfully against his face, and tried to steady his breathing. 

That last thing he wanted to do was distract Michael by panicking. Michael knew what he was doing and could get him out of this. 

Jeremy was oddly reminded of Michael’s first night at the previous Fazbear location. That time Jeremy had been the one confidently directing him on what to do to survive. He felt himself calm, remembering that they really could count on each other. 

He was startled out of his thoughts by a loud crash of metal. 

He couldn’t see the animatronic yet, but he could hear it stalking around the room. In his other ear Michael continuously reassured him that the audio would be rebooted soon, and that he had nothing to worry about if he just stayed put. 

Curling in on himself, Jeremy held his breath until the distinct sound of a child’s laughter echoed from another hall. 

Not even missing a beat, the animatronic bounded in the opposite direction. 

“Jeremy go!” 

Spurred to action, Jeremy leaped up from his hiding place and sprinted to the left, well, if you could call hobbling behind a squeaky TV cart sprinting. 

Jeremy tried not to wince at the loud shriek of metal and wheels as he sped down the halls. 

When he finally made it back to the entrance, and the horrid screeching could finally come to a merciful end, Jeremy took a second to catch his breath… but it quickly stuck in his throat when he heard a dull thumping from the other end of the hall. 

Squinting through the darkness, and partially relying on his memory, Jeremy made out the dark outline of the open vent shaft. 

“Um…Michael, do you know where the animatronic is?” He asked as he shunted the tv against the wall right at the turn off. 

After only a short pause, Michael must have caught on. 

“Jeremy run run run- go back! It’s in the vent heading right for you!” 

Instantly, Jeremy made a u-turn and ran back the way he came. 

“Where do I go, where do I go?!” 

“Um, come to me, to the office! We’ll regroup here!” 

Jeremy cringed at the sounds of crashing and tearing coming from the room he left behind. A small part of him in the back of his mind was worried about the tapes, but he was mostly grateful the animatronic was more occupied with those than with chasing after him down the halls.  

Jeremy skidded to a stop in the office, eyes darting from the cameras to Michael’s panicked face. 

“Michael, are the things in the room safe?? Did it destroy any of it?!” 

“Jeremy!” Michael turned his head, staring at Jeremy for a few seconds before dragging his eyes back to glare at the screen. 

“I’m sorry, he tore through the security tapes.”

Jeremy stepped in front of Michael and saw for himself. His precious boxes had been thrown around the room, torn strips of film tape littered the wet floor. 

 Jeremy felt a hand rest lightly on his shoulder. 

“You can check and see if any of it stayed in mostly one piece…I’m so sorry, Jeremy. I lost track of him for just a second and I–” 

“Hey, it’s not your fault, I’m just surprised you got me through that alive.” He tried to laugh it off, but he was devastated as he collapsed in Michael’s chair. That cam footage could have been just the thing they needed to pick up a new lead, and he blew it. 

“Well, if I can’t blame myself, you can’t either, kay?” 

Jeremy chuckled and nodded, knowing Michael was probably still feeling guilty. He didn’t really blame himself, they did what they could, might as well make the best of it.

“Alright…how are we gonna do this?”

Jeremy watched Michael’s eyes flick from camera to camera. 

“Okay, he’s back in that far room, looks like he’s less aggressive now too.”

Jeremy squinted at the screen. He didn’t see anything there, until Michael placed his finger in the corner of the screen, just below a pair of glowing, yellow eyes. 

Jeremy shuddered and backed away. It was looking right at the camera, like it knew they were there. And was just waiting for its chance to get closer. 

“How do you feel about going through the vent now?” Michael pointed to the vent entrance hanging above them. “It’ll be much faster, and you won’t have to worry about the animatronic at all!” 

Jeremy grimaced at the gaping hole. Sure it was fairly roomy in there, but still… 

Jeremy stood, tugged his jacket tighter around himself and lightly patted Michael’s shoulder. 

“...I trust you,” was all Jeremy said before about-facing and taking off down the hall, giving Michael a little salute as he ran past the window. He thought he saw Michael chuckle, at least, that’s how it looked by the shake of his shoulders, and Jeremy did in fact make it safely back to his room at the entrance. 

It took some work cleaning up the mess the animatronic left behind, and Jeremy bit back a curse each time he picked up another video cassette with the film completely pulled out and torn to shreds. He did find a handful of mostly intact ones, but there was no guarantee they’d be useful. Still, he took the time to put each one into the player just long enough to write down the date and put them back in the box in order. He could look over them later, since they were running out of time. 

When he put in the last one though, he couldn’t help but watch a little longer. Once he skipped past the corrupted footage he was immediately drawn into what was happening through the screen. 

There was a man running, dashing past all the cameras, and though there was no sound, Jeremy could clearly see the terror on his face. 

His head flailed wildly, looking over either shoulder as he ran. Occasionally he pulled down cabinets or tables into the hallways behind him. 

But there wasn’t a single other thing in the building. Nothing else was showing on the cameras, not one person, and the only animatronics were the heaps of parts on the floor, much like they were placed now. 

But there must be something he was missing, why else would this man be running through these halls, terrified? 

Jeremy watched him run past each camera until he disappeared. Jeremy frowned.

He didn’t go out the exit, he hadn’t even reached the office yet. It was as if he just ran right through a wall and disappeared. 

After that, the footage was…empty. Nothing happened, nothing moved… 

Jeremy even fast forwarded a day, two days, three days. Nothing. A whole week went by and not a sign of movement. 

What had happened??

“Jeremy!” 

Jeremy jumped, hitting the pause button on impulse. He snatched up his phone where it was standing on the floor next to him. 

“Yeah, sorry, what?” 

“I’ve been calling you, did you find something? Your nose was practically touching the screen.” 

“I think so? I don’t know what to make of it yet though.” 

“Okay, well, sorry to cut you off at the climax, but you should probably get out of there. You can pick up where you left off tomorrow. And I was thinking we should also take a second look in that backroom. We might be able to find something useful if we…”

Jeremy stopped listening once Michael mentioned the backroom. 

Of course! That was it! That’s where that man ran into! A room with no camera… 

But…did that mean there was an exit in that backroom somewhere? Because if not, that meant that man had been in that room for at least a whole week. Was that possible?

“Sorry Michael, I just need to check one more thing, I’ll be just a minute!” 

Michael snorted. “Well, unless you want Erin and Valerie to hit you with the door on their way in, I suggest you leave now.” 

Jeremy sighed and started gathering his things. “Fine. But hey, Val and I are like friends now, I’m sure she’d be happy to see me.” 

“Ha, ha” Michael said dryly from the other end, “ hurry up, it’s 5 til.”

“I’m serious! We ended up running into each other last night while I was grabbing dinner. I told her I was a friend of yours and we talked for a while.”

“Well, forgive me for doubting you Casanova, but I’m not about to hinge this job on your new friendship!” 

“Alright, I’m going, I’m going!” he said back with a smile, and hung up the phone as he went out the door. 

…………….

Michael watched Jeremy leave, following him with the parking lot camera till the other man reached his bike. Just as Jeremy sat down next to it, the girls’ car pulled into the spot next to him. 

The two got out and one of them walked over to Jeremy who stood up and started talking with her. 

They were too far from the camera for Michael to be able to see their faces, but they both seemed to talk animatedly, hands waving and bodies shaking with laughter. 

“I guess they really did meet up last night,” he mumbled aloud to himself. 

Last night while you were waiting for Jeremy to come home. 

He chastised his own inner voice for being so needlessly bitter. Now wasn’t the time for that. In fact, it would never be the time for that. There was no need to think anything like that at all. 

He packed up his things and headed out the office doorway. 

It looked like Jeremy and the girls were still talking outside (so much for “6 on the dot”), but it was past 6 now, and Michael wasn’t keen on unpaid overtime. 

He didn’t make it far down the hall when a small sound behind him made him stop. 

Slowly, he turned around and a pair of gleaming eyes stared back. 

Michael quickly assessed his situation. How far to the backdoor? Too far. How quick could it move? Quicker than he could. 

Michael couldn’t breathe. How could he have been so stupid?! It was past 6 am sure, but he should have realized before now that it wasn’t the time that made the animatronic power down for the day, but the arrival of the day shift. 

How odd. Why won’t it attack the day shift? Why didn’t he think to ask why before?

No! Stop that, you have to think! How are you going to get out of this?? Stall till the girls stop talking and get here? Oh gosh, Jeremy’s blabbermouth is about to get me killed! 

Michael flinched as the animatronic rabbit unhinged its jaw. A putrid smell stabbed his nose and Michael gagged but dared not move. 

The sound of creaking metal filled the darkness, and perhaps it was the fact that it had been a whole 10 seconds and he hadn't been pounced on yet that Michael was able to calm down enough to realize the sounds were words. 

“MIKE.”

His heart stopped. 

It spoke… He didn’t think this one could. 

“WHAT A PLEASANT SURPRISE.”

Then it laughed, with a horrible sound of grinding metal and wheezing air from diseased lungs. It carried with it a sense of chilling fear that Michael hadn’t felt in a long time. 

Michael fought back a scream as the animatronic shambled closer. Slowly. 

Why was it doing this? 

He’d seen how fast it can move-

Why wouldn’t it just attack? 

The slam of a large door reverberated through the building. 

The animatronic whipped its head around, the sound of voices and laughter echoing from the hallways behind it. 

It turned back to Michael with its molding grin. 

“MIDNIGHT. LET’S TALK. I  CAN HARDLY  W A I T.” 

Then it dashed away, into the darkness and out of sight. 　 

The footsteps and voices got closer, but Michael couldn’t move. When he finally did, he fell backwards onto the floor.  

What... was that?! 

The voices sounded like they were impossibly close and too far away at the same time. 

He wasn’t breathing, that much he was aware of. 

Correction. He was breathing much too fast for it to be of any use. 

Erin and Valerie were there now. They were crouched in front of him, concerned looks on their faces, they were asking him questions, and he could hear them just fine, but he couldn’t get himself to move. 

“Val, go get Jeremy. Hey Gabe? Can you hear me? You gotta snap out of it, whatever this is.” 

Time must have been passing faster than it seemed because soon he heard the door opening behind him. 

“--just freaking out or something, I don’t know!” Valerie.

“Erin, what’s going on, what happened??!” Jeremy.

The sound of Jeremy’s voice jarred Michael out of his paralysis. He turned his head slowly just as Jeremy came and replaced Erin in front of him. 

“I don’t know, he was like that when we got here!” 

Michael’s vision was filled with the blue of Jeremy’s coat. 

“Michael,” Jeremy whispered in his ear. “We’re gonna get out of here, okay? Can you stand?”

Michael managed a nod, and with Jeremy supporting him, he got to his feet, legs like lead. 

 “I think he’s just overworked.” He heard Jeremy say from beside him. “I’ll take care of him. Thanks so much.” 

Then they were outside. 

Michael squeezed his eyes shut. It had snowed again, and though the sun wasn’t out yet, it was still way too bright compared to the darkness of Fazbear Frights. 

The cold helped though, he felt like he was slowly waking up from a bad dream. 

“Jeremy?” 

“Yeah?” 

They were leaned up against one of the trees in the forest behind the building, dead leaves crunching under his hips as he shifted to face the other man. 

“It talked. It spoke to me.” 

After a brief look of shock flitted across his face, Jeremy gave him a lopsided smile of relief. 

“So that’s what it was.” 

“Jeremy I- I don’t think I’ve been this scared in a long time.” 

Gosh, he really didn’t have a filter right now did he?

“How come? Didn’t you say animatronics have spoken to you before at…the uh ‘Sister Location’?” 

Under different circumstances, Michael would’ve at least chuckled at Jeremy’s usage of his own nickname for the place. But there was something so inexplicably terrifying about this encounter. 

“It knew my name, Jeremy. It called me ‘Mike’.” 

“It recognized you?” 

That was a mystery in and of itself, but Jeremy couldn’t know how much that meant. 

Yes, it recognized him, but normally when animatronics “recognized” him, all they saw was his father, their murderer whose face he shared. 

Why did this one know he was Michael? 

And still want to kill him anyway? But then again, it said it wanted to talk. 

Michael remembered what Jeremy said about his father being the one to use the springlock suits. Those temperamental death traps. 

Michael let out a shout of frustration before burying his face in his knees. He felt a migraine coming on. 

He felt a hand press onto the crown of his head. It just sat there, it didn’t move or run its fingers through the strands. Michael kind of wished it would. 

“I think we’ve both got a lot on our mind right now.” Jeremy said, hand still on Michael’s hair. “I feel like the more we learn the more confusing this all gets.” 

“You got that right.” Michael said into his knees. 

Jeremy removed his hand and Michael’s head went up with it. 

He laid his head back down on his knees, but this time with his head turned to Jeremy, who smiled at him. 

“C’mon. I think I have something that can help.” 

…

“You want me to what?”

Michael looked from the shining bike between them to Jeremy’s proud smile. 

“Take her for a spin!”

“Jeremy, that’s a terrible idea. Is now really the best time?” 

Jeremy just shrugged and tossed his helmet over. Michael caught it inches from his nose and when he lowered it, Jeremy was grinning from ear to ear.  

"You’ve been dealing with that thing for over 6 hours now, it’s time to leave it alone for a while. 

C'mon! I’ll be good for you, and fun!"   

"Jeremy, I don't know how to drive a motorcycle." 

"Okay, then I'll drive. There's plenty of room for the both of us."  

"Okaaay," Michael began slowly, “Only if you're the one wearing this."  

After a short pause, Jeremy snatched the helmet back with a light pout on his lips. "Fine. If I take this, will you come?"  

Michael gave the bike a once over. It was a good looking bike, to be fair. He'd be lying if he said he didn't wanna ride it...just once... 

Michael ran a hand through his hair, letting out a sigh and pursing his lips.  

Jeremy was looking at him expectantly, like he knew Michael was gonna cave any second now.  

Michael suppressed a laugh but couldn't hide his smile as he rolled his eyes. "Fine!" 

"Yes!" 

"Just this once though! And only for a minute!" 

Jeremy slipped the helmet on and flicked down the visor.  

"Sure, sure, whatever you say..."  

Michael settled onto the bike behind him.   

"Where uh, what do I hold onto?"  

"Um" Came Jeremy's muffled reply from in front of him. "Anywhere's fine, I guess..."  

Michael stared at Jeremy's back.  

Should he hang onto his shoulders? No, that would look stupid. Maybe if he just gripped his upper arms a little.  

Michael's hands hovered awkwardly in the small space between them, moving up and down indecisively.  

Hurry up, he's waiting and you're making it weird! 

Slightly panicking, Michael twisted the sides of Jeremy's jacket between his fingers and held on.  

Michael very quickly realized that the only adrenaline-pumping activities he ever took part in were involuntarily life threatening ones. It took him a moment to tell himself he probably wasn't going to die as he gripped Jeremy tightly, trying to trust in the other’s driving skills.  

"Doin' alright back there?" Jeremy called from the front, slowing down slightly so Michael could hear him over the rumbling engine.  

"All good!" Michael shot back, painfully aware of how strangled his voice sounded.  

Jeremy just laughed and Michael felt his face heat up despite the cold whipping around them.  

As Michael had suspected, Jeremy had never intended this ride to be only a minute long, and drove them all the way back to and through the  main part  of town. But by the time they zipped past the shopping center and motel, Michael found he'd grown quite used to it. It wasn't so frightening, only thrilling, and he let himself sit back a bit and enjoy the ride.  

Jeremy drove until they’d left the town far behind, and there were only trees and rocky hills on either side of them. Michael let the weight of the day seep into his bones, and he let himself slide forward and lean against Jeremy’s back. 

The sun must have risen by now, but dark clouds and arching branches blocked out the harsh light, and Michael let his eyes drift closed. 

The constant rumble of the engine kept him in and out of sleep till he felt them slow to a stop and Michael opened his eyes. 

In front of them stretched a familiar road, Michael recognized it well, and was surprised to feel a little light hearted upon seeing it again. Just a few miles down that road was Michael's hometown. Jeremy had stopped just before they left the valley, and Michael took in how beautiful it was in late fall. 

“Well, how’d you like it?” Michael just hummed until he realized that he was still holding on and quickly let go. 

“Really good, um- yeah, I really liked that…thank you.” 

Jeremy chuckled and sat up, forcing Michael to shift backwards just a little, and Michael tried not to jerk as he suddenly felt like he might topple off. 

“You’re welcome,” Jeremy replied with a smile in his voice. “You might wanna stand up and stretch your legs for a bit,” he continued. “I was thinking of turning around now and heading back. Thanks for letting me take you out this far.” 

“No, thank you!” Michael cut in quickly, pacing in circles and stretching his arms. “It was really nice.” 

Jeremy stood, removed his helmet and set it down on his seat as he fluffed up his hair. “Good,” he said with a simple smile in Michael’s direction. He started stretching his arms too and walked towards where Michael was still pacing in circles. 

Jeremy cut himself into Michael’s path and they stopped in front of each other. 

The clouds parted a little, and Michael realized it was well past dawn now. He briefly wondered why there were no other cars on the road, but found it difficult to entertain other trains of thought as he looked at Jeremy and Jeremy looked back at him. 

“So… when’d you learn to drive a motorcycle?” 

It was high noon when they decided it was time to go back and get at least some sleep. As soon as Jeremy mentioned going back, Michael felt the same tiredness from earlier weigh back down on his shoulders. As much as he loved sleep, Michael couldn’t help but feel a little upset that this little escapade was over. But then again, was there really anything stopping them from doing it again tomorrow? He never considered that before. That they could just…do this again. 

“We should do this again sometime,” Jeremy’s voice cut right through his thoughts and Michael watched him slowly walk back towards his bike, stretching his arms over his head. “I feel like it’s a good way to unwind after a shift.” 

Michael stood and stared at Jeremy’s back walking away from him. 

“Hey, Jeremy?” Jeremy stopped and turned to him. He suddenly found it ridiculously difficult to get his words out. 

“I just wanted to say… sorry again, for all the secrets.” 

After a short  pause Jeremy strode back toward him and clapped him on the shoulder with another radiant smile. 

“When you do feel like you’re ready, I’ll always be here to listen. Sometimes, things aren’t good to hold onto all on your own.” 

Michael had been feeling the truth of those words more and more every day. Jeremy turned back around and walked to his bike, picking up his helmet.  

“And Jeremy?”

Jeremy spun around again, this time looking a little exasperated, but his smile was genuine. 

“What?” 

“...Thank you.” 

…

It wasn't till Jeremy pulled into the motel parking lot that Michael realized there was a slight problem. 

His car was back at Fazbear's Fright. His car is where he slept, he hadn't been able to afford a room for more than one night. 

But Jeremy didn't know that, and Michael wanted to keep it that way. 

“I, uh, left my room key in my car… is it alright if I just take a quick snooze on your floor?” Though it wasn't foreign to him, Michael wasn't a fan of sleeping outside in the streets. 

Jeremy rolled his eyes and opened his door, gesturing for Michael to enter. “Of course. I don’t mind. But you can have the bed, I sleep better sitting up, anyway.” 

Michael missed sleeping in a bed too much to protest. “You know, somehow I believe that.” 

Jeremy settled himself in the large arm chair across from him and closed his eyes. Michael tucked himself under the covers and tried to go to sleep.  

................

He was Charlie again. He was aware of that much, this time, at least.  

Jeremy pressed his hands to the window, green bracelet knocking against the cold glass, and peered in at all the kids playing inside.  

I want to play with them, it's dark out here. 

Charlie's thoughts were mixing with his, thoughts she must have had in her last moments, all in her voice, but a lot more innocent than he was used to hearing her.  

I'm not supposed to be outside!  

And a lot more afraid.  

"…" 

Jeremy turned to the muffled sound coming from behind him. There was a figure there, but he couldn't make out what they looked like, nor what they were saying. He felt that hand on his shoulder and fear began to build up as Jeremy remembered what comes next.  

As her voice screamed in his head, the figure bent closer and came into view.  

Only it wasn't the face of the killer. 

It was Michael's face.  

But it was wrong somehow, a little greyer, with eyes sunken in. And his smile… 

Jeremy tried desperately to separate Charlie's fear from his own thoughts, but Jeremy stared into Michael's eyes and a fear unlike any other chilled him to his bones. 

I'm going to die! 

In a blinding flash the vision shattered and Jeremy was left facing Charlie, in tears, looking much like she did when they'd first met. Surrounded by darkness, sobs echoing all around.  

Jeremy knelt in front of her and ducked his head down to look her in the eye.  

“I’m sorry that happened to you. It wasn’t fair. I’m here to help, but clearly, there’s more going on here than you’re telling me…and I can’t help if I don’t know what’s going on.” 

She didn’t say anything, so Jeremy pressed. 

“You know where Afton is, don’t you? How can I prove to you that I’m on your side?”

Then she disappeared, but a familiar phrase was left behind, like a whisper in the air. 

Do you like birthday parties? 

Jeremy startled awake, but… no, he wasn’t awake yet. 

His body felt heavy as he sat up and looked around, eyes instantly settling on something round and colorful on the floor in front of him. It was a large cupcake, frosted in pink and topped with a large candle. 

Cake?..Yes, cake is important. Get the cake.  

Jeremy leapt between platforms collecting what he could find, scene washed in harsh yellow light pouring from large, paned windows. As he roamed around he soon realized he was surrounded by sounds of cries and wails. It was aversive and grating and he wished he had a free hand to cover his ears.  

As he wandered between rooms he found four crying children. Four kids and two cakes, there wasn't enough for them all. What was he supposed to do?  

He approached one child, tentatively lowering a cake to their hunched body. In the blink of an eye the child shot up, snatching a cake from Jeremy's hands and stuffing their face with it.  

Jeremy stumbled back in disbelief as the child threw up their hands, squealing with glee, eyes and mouth growing frighteningly large.  

These kids weren't actually crying, they were just throwing tantrums!  

Clinging tightly to his last piece of cake, Jeremy searched between the two rooms for another way to go. There had to be something else, someone else. These kids here were not the ones he was looking for.  

Making sure to avoid the other children postured dramatically on the floor, Jeremy found another room but there was just more cake, no child.  

Please, I know they're here somewhere. Help me find them. Jeremy was sure she could hear him.  

Even though so much about the spirit in his head was a mystery to him, Jeremy knew she would help him with this. She cared about these children too, had been caring for them for years, helping them move on if they were ready, and helping them get revenge if they weren't.  

Do you like birthday parties? Her voice tinkled like music in the air. Jeremy felt his eyes drawn to the wall along the stairs.  

It didn't look any different when he stepped closer, but, trusting her, he leapt through it.  

He found himself tumbling into another room, awash in the same bright, yellow light.  

Jeremy gasped in delight as he was met with the familiar sight of big, red birthday balloons. Using them to scramble upwards, Jeremy made it to a solid platform before his legs gave out from under him.  

How can I get this out of breath in a dream?? Jeremy thought, panting.  

Propping himself up on his elbows, he looked up and couldn’t suppress a smile.  

"Found you."  

The child was standing, facing the other wall, body shaking with small hiccups causing their shoulders to shudder up and down. With no small effort, Jeremy hoisted himself up to the platform and shuffled on his knees closer to the crying kid. Stopping just a foot away, Jeremy pulled out the last cake he'd saved.  

"Hey, we're throwing a birthday party." He set the cake down on the floor between them and the sniffling stopped. "Do you wanna come?"  

The child didn't turn around, but Jeremy thought he might've seen the slightest nod of their head before the dream shattered and everything went black. 

Chapter Text

Jeremy sat up in his chair and looked across the room to the lump under the blankets. He stood slowly, stiffness in his muscles pulling painfully as he walked over to the bed. 

He looked down at Michael, still fast asleep. The memory of Charlie's death was playing on loop in his head. 

The Michael in his dream had been so…unsettling. He could still remember his eyes. They were the same deep blue, but somehow the nightmare made them feel like ice, nothing like Michael’s.

He felt the overwhelming urge to shake Michael awake, just so he could see them the way they were supposed to look. But he resisted, opting instead to smooth the blanket over Michael’s shoulder and step away to get some water. It seemed this nightmare had shaken him up more than the others. 

He wondered if it had been something more than just the random mixing of their memories. Did Charlie consider Michael a threat? Perhaps someone as dangerous as her killer? He remembered that first day he and Michael met, Charlie had been out to kill him, he was sure of it. 

He couldn’t reach him in time, but something else stopped her. Or someone else, as she had briefly explained to him that night. Still, there seemed to be little keeping her from killing him now. She just needed the means. 

It wasn’t me you know. 

Jeremy glanced down to see Charlie’s face staring back up at him from inside his cup of water. 

He told you it was because of the animatronic. I want you to know I had nothing to do with his earlier… episode. 

Jeremy absentmindedly tipped his drink back and forth, watching Charlie’s reflection shift with the sloshing water. 

“Since when do you care what I think?” 

Since I started spending most of my time up here.

Jeremy rolled his eyes and took a sip from his cup. Her image shook slightly as he set her down on the armrest. 

And because…I don’t want you to think I only spared you because I want you to follow orders. I shouldn't have said that last night.

Jeremy stood up and strode to the bathroom, dumping the rest of the water down the sink. Her face was waiting for him in the bathroom mirror. 

You make things needlessly difficult for yourself, and me, when you think I’m against you. I can assure you I am not. 

“You want to kill Michael. That sounds pretty “against me” to me!” His voice was rising, as it tended to whenever he spoke with this angry spirit.

He cast a nervous glance out the doorway, where he could just barely see a head of hair poking up from under the blankets of his bed. Please stay asleep a little longer. For your sake and mine. 

Jeremy lowered his voice. “What would it take? For you to leave him alone… What do I need to do to convince you he’s on our side?” 

Her inky eyes bore into his and Jeremy remembered, for just a moment, that he should probably be more afraid of her. 

A sacrifice. 

Jeremy swallowed. “I won’t let it come to that. There has to be something else!” 

A noise came from the other room. Jeremy leaned back, peering through the doorway. Michael was stirring in his sleep, but he only turned over once before flipping the blankets over his head and settling back down with a quiet sigh. 

A warm fondness filled Jeremy’s chest as he followed the small rise and fall of the lump on the bed. Michael was trying harder than anyone to fix things. Why couldn’t Charlie see that? He turned back to the mirror. 

“Michael will help us get closer to Afton, just you watch. It’s personal for him too, why won’t you grant him the same closure you want for all those kids?” 

Charlie leaned in close, her long hair and pale face filling the whole mirror, darkening the whole room. 

After what he’s done... He doesn’t deserve it. 

And she disappeared. 

Jeremy hung his head and let out a sigh. What was he going to do? 

She wouldn’t actually try anything, would she? She couldn’t actually hurt him, right? Could the little piece of her soul Jeremy brought with him really do any damage? And what’s this about Michael not being “deserving”? 

Jeremy walked out of the bathroom deep in thought, almost tripping over Michael’s shoes that had been thrown beside the door frame just hours earlier. 

He quickly glanced up, relieved to find Michael still as ever, soundly sleeping. 

Trying to ignore Charlie’s looming threats echoing in his head, he got to packing a bag and writing a note. 

Today was gonna be a big day. 

................

Michael Afton did not want to get out of bed. 

He missed sleeping in a bed so much, he wondered if Jeremy would let him stay in it all night. Throwing the covers over his head, Michael breathed in deeply, basking in the feeling of being surrounded by soft sheets with a sharp smell, something like mint or lemon. He wondered if the scent belonged to the sheets themselves or to Jeremy.  

Michael shot out of bed and ran to the bathroom, splashing cold water over his face. 

On his way back out, he tripped over a pair of shoes he vaguely remembers tossing in this direction before collapsing into bed, and fell to the floor with the grace of a dying duck. 

He quickly whipped his head up to make sure he didn’t wake Jeremy, but the chair the other man had been sleeping in was empty. 

But, the small table next to it was not. 

Pushing himself to his feet, Michael surveyed the small side table, picking up a piece of paper tucked between plastic wrapped muffins and small bags of veggies. 

Hey Michael, 

Here’s breakfast (lunch?), I hope it’s enough. I already ate, so this is all for you. I left to follow a lead Valerie let me in on the other day. It’s that car I told you about, the one I think belonged to that man I saw from that old cam footage. I’ll be back with dinner, so you just rest today, okay? Just rest and take care of yourself.

Jeremy

P.S. I took the key to your car. I’ll bring it back with me and just leave my bike at Freddy’s for now. See you then. 

Michael dumped himself into the chair and absentmindedly gnawed on the carrot sticks as he wondered what to do next. 

Should he just go back to sleep? That's how he used to spend his time between shifts, but he had Jeremy now, sleep seemed like a waste of time. 

Except Jeremy isn’t here, he’s off following some lead Valerie gave him.  

Michael mulled over Jeremy’s note again, acknowledging how light he felt as he read the words “ Just rest and take care of yourself. ” 

Should he call him? Or if he was with Valerie right now, would that be interrupting? Was he even with her right now? He realized he didn’t even really know, but it was probably safer to assume so. 

Michael tried to swallow this funny feeling. 

Even if they were running together now, he often tended to forget just how different his and Jeremy’s lives were. 

Michael resigned himself to a life of solitude a long time ago. He had Jeremy now, and that alone was a miracle. But Jeremy didn’t have to live like that. Kinda funny how easily he forgot that. 

Michael snapped his gaze from looking through the door when he realized that he’d been chewing on empty air. He let out a sigh and shook his head at himself, picking up another snack. 

“Gosh, what is happening to you, Michael?” he muttered around a mouth full of muffin. 

He should be following after him, trying to find out where Jeremy went. Make sure he wasn’t uncovering anything Michael didn’t want him to know.

He felt like he was just sitting around waiting for something to happen. How could he let it come to this? He wasn’t going to tell him, but was just… waiting around for Jeremy to figure it out. How could that possibly be okay? 

Michael sighed again, stood up, and flopped back onto Jeremy’s bed. 

He wanted to call…why did that suddenly feel like the hardest thing in the world? 

Michael buried his face in Jeremy’s pillow and threw the sheets over his head. 

................

He hadn’t noticed the other night, probably because it had been dark, and the scrapyard lights didn’t provide the best lighting, but the car in question was purple. 

It looked so out of place among the other dented hunks of scrap metal heaped up around it. 

Jeremy picked his way over to it, shunting a few things out of the way to try and get to the door.

He tried the handle…Of course it was locked. 

Jeremy set his bag on the roof of the car and looked around. He picked up a rusty lamp and tested the end of it. 

“Seems solid enough.” He swung it at the window and the glass shattered instantly. 

Careful not to let his jacket sleeve snag on any stray pieces, Jeremy reached through and unlocked the door. 

Once he cleared all the shattered glass out of the way, Jeremy could finally get a good look at the inside of the car. There was a lot stuffed in the back, kind of like Michael’s. Based off of the water bottles and gas jugs, Jeremy assumed this person had been traveling and living in their car for a while. 

If the man he saw from the security cam footage was the owner of this car, Jeremy wondered what he had been doing before he got to Freddy’s. In the tape he had been running from nothing. Maybe he had been running even before then.  

Though there was a lot piled in the backseats, Jeremy went straight for the glove box.  He popped it open and carefully sifted through stacks of folders and papers looking for the registration. 

There were a bunch of other things in there too, like a lighter, a golf ball, some old packs of gum, and… what was that? 

Setting the papers aside for now, Jeremy reached in and fished out the small box that had caught his eye. 

It was made of wood, with a nice polished varnish, and so small it could fit in the palm of his hand. 

 He turned it around in his hands and saw something that only made his curiosity spike. 

Six black number dials lined what must have been the front of the box, just below where a lid would open. They were all set to zero. 

But that was it. There weren't even hinges, and Jeremy could barely make out the seam in the wood. But if there was a lock, it clearly opened, right? 

Jeremy lifted the box to his ear and slowly tilted it from side to side. He smiled at the small knocking sound he heard. 

Something’s inside!  

Jeremy gave the top of the box a light tug. Expectedly, it didn’t budge. Jeremy slowly cycled through all the numbers on the first dial, listening carefully for any distinctly different clicks. Nothing. This was well made. 

Carefully setting the box down on the driver’s seat cushion, Jeremy returned to the more urgent task at hand.  

He finally found the car registration crumpled at the back of the glove compartment. Roughly straightening out the wrinkles and turning to the first page he found what he was looking for and…Jeremy balked at the name printed there. 

This car belonged to William Afton?!. 

Jeremy read the name again and again, just to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. But the print didn’t change. 

“No way…”

Jeremy suddenly felt at a loss of what to do. He looked at the pile of papers in his lap to the assortment of knickknacks splayed on the driver's seat, to the heaps of bags in the backset. 

There could be so much here. So much more than he originally thought. 

................

After trying to sleep, unsuccessfully, for about an hour, Michael rolled out of bed and forced himself to get dressed. 

He might as well make himself useful. 

After staring dead-eyed at the route map for 20 minutes, Michael sat at the bus stop wondering how kindly the company would take to him showing up at work during the day. He figured he wouldn’t necessarily get in trouble, but figured the more he could avoid being spotted by anyone, the better. 

Leaning his head against the grimy window, Michael thought about Jeremy’s recent big discovery. 

He hadn’t seen the footage himself, but what Jeremy described was…confusing. A man running from nothing. Screaming hysterically apparently, constantly looking over his shoulder before running off camera into the backroom. 

Jeremy said he’d scrubbed through up to 3 days of footage after that, with no movement. No one in, no one out. At least not the way he came in. Michael didn’t remember seeing any other doors or windows in that room the last time he and Jeremy took a peek inside, no other way out. And that’s what he was going to go make sure of. 

When Michael entered through the backdoor of Fazbear’s Fright, he wasn’t surprised to see the security office empty. He did hear some shuffling sounds and muted voices coming from a nearby room. He checked the cameras to see where they were and was relieved to see they were not in the way of his goal. He slipped his way down the hall into the old backroom, and the day shift was none the wiser. 

Closing the door behind him, Michael’s spirits immediately sank as he looked at the big concrete box of nothing he was standing in. 

There really was nothing here. Of course anything remotely important had been moved out, and Jeremy had gone through all of it already. Anything left behind was spare cords, moldy cardboard boxes of old paper cutlery, and some more kids drawings that had gotten way too water damaged for display. Some of them were still soaking in puddles on the floor that had pooled under one of the many leaks in the ceiling. In fact, the whole room was damp, even the air felt muggier. 

Michael walked to the spot where the animatronic had been slumped against the wall. There were dark stains on the wall and floor, marking where it had been. He could almost smell it just by standing there. He turned away and did an unnecessary sweep along the room’s perimeter, unnecessary because he could see all the walls clearly from end to end. No other doors, no windows, no openings, no exits. 

If Jeremy’s mystery man had really run in here but didn’t come out the way he came, then he was in here for at least those 3 days, because there was nothing here.

Michael opened the door a crack and poked his head out. Just as he thought, he could see the back exit sign from this hallway. 

Why would a man running for his life run for a dead end instead of the exit? He turned and looked back in the room. Could there have been something in here he thought could help? Could the exit have been blocked? No, Jeremy said there was nothing and no one else there that night, just all those boxes and the inanimate animatronic pieces scattered on the floor. 

The guy really was seeing things that weren’t there. Not that Michael really had room to judge people for hallucinating while in this building. 

…hang on, could he have- 

Michael’s thoughts were cut off by the sounds of people moving in his direction. 

After giving the room one final look, he carefully slipped out the double doors and left the building the way he’d come.  

Once outside, Michael jogged up the small hill into the forest for some clear air.

He sat himself against one of the trees and pulled out a folded piece of paper from his coat pocket. 

He had been doodling on it on the bus ride here, and now looked down at his nearly finished sketch of a child, the one from his dream two nights ago. 

There had been so many over the years. He never fully pieced together how or why it happened, but whenever they appeared in his dreams, he did what he could to show them kindness, and help them move on. And then they would, and Michael would move on to the next pizzeria. 

The torn apart animatronics that now sat positioned in Fazbear Frights, Michael knew that’s where the spirits of these children had come from. More importantly, he figured it was them he was seeing whenever the oxygen got too low in the building. 

If that other man somehow saw them too…  

Then he hadn’t been running from nothing afterall. The children, their spirits, they were there, even then. 

...............

The sun was setting now, bright rays blasting Jeremy right in the face through the windshield. 

He was leaning back in the front seat, tired out from transferring box after box of grimy sweatshirts and red-inked maps into the trunk of Michael’s car. He couldn’t rest for long though, it was getting late. He told Michael he’d be back with dinner, and he had to get better at keeping his word. At least with things like this. 

Once the car was cleared of all the bulkier things, Jeremy got to work on cramming his arms under the seats to find any other loose items. 

Several toilet paper rolls and burger wrappers later, he finally pulled out something that wasn’t garbage. It was another book. Jeremy had already found several in the various bags and boxes he’d already removed from the car, but this one looked more worn than the others, and had been wedged under the driver’s seat.  

“The Juniper Tree.” Jeremy read aloud, brushing his fingers over the fraying cover. 

He quickly flipped through its pages, because there was no way William Afton frequented this book just because he liked fairy tales. 

About halfway through, Jeremy’s thumb stopped at a folded piece of paper tucked between the pages. 

Placing the open book down on his knee, Jeremy unfolded the paper, grimacing at the dried prints of food-stained fingers smeared here and there. 

On the inside, the paper was covered in nigh unintelligible scrawls of ink. Some were numbers, some were words, but the most eye-catching of all was the messy sketch of a face that took up almost the entire page. 

Jeremy frowned, before glancing up at his reflection in the rearview mirror. 

“Does this mean anything to you?” 

To his surprise, Charlie’s face appeared in the cloudy glass, almost immediately.  

It just looks like garbage.

Jeremy looked from the sketch on the page to Charlie’s empty eyes. 

“Didn’t we just talk this morning about how you want me to trust you more?” 

Charlie just closed her eyes and pointed at the paper. 

Trust me when I tell you to leave it alone. This is a different matter altogether. You don’t want to get involved with that one.

“ ‘That one’ ?” Jeremy looked at the picture again. The sketch was chaotic, a mess of dark hair and bright eyes were the only things that even made it distinguishable as a face. He supposed it looked rather round though, like a child’s. 

“Who is this?” 

Charlie, for the first time, looked uncertain, almost uncomfortable. 

Let’s just say, not all the children I have restored to life are…in agreement for how I am trying to see an end to things. 

Jeremy found that hard to believe, but he knew she was telling the truth. 

“Some of them are against you? Aren’t you like, the ring leader?”

Not really. 

She shrugged, but her gaze was serious.  

A lot of them look up to me, and I have a bit more control than the others do, but really, I’m just another victim, as I’m sure you’re well aware. 

Now it was Jeremy’s turn to feel uncomfortable. He wondered if Charlie knew he lived through her death every night. And his own. His discomfort grew as he stared longer at the face on the page, the twisted lines below the eyes shaping themselves into a horrific smile. 

If they knew about you, if they knew I was here…let’s just say it won’t turn out well for the both of us. 

“What about Michael?” 

Charlie’s demeanor changed immediately, and Jeremy regretted asking just as quickly. He made her mad, and she clammed up when she was mad.  

They will not get in my way again.  

She disappeared. 

Jeremy leaned back, kicking himself. He had finally gotten her to talk about something openly! And he went and screwed it up! 

He sat forward again and reached up to move the rearview mirror out of his eye line. 

Still, as quick as that conversation dropped off, her angry outburst had given him just the information he needed. 

He held up the sketch again, letting the light of the setting sun filter through the few speckles of paper left uninked. 

The only thing that Jeremy knew of that had ever gotten in the Puppet’s way, the only thing that had ever stood up to her, was the animatronic that saved Michael the night Charlie tried to kill him. An animatronic he had only encountered once himself, but Michael said he’d had many run-ins with. An animatronic that seemed to want Michael alive. But apparently was very dangerous and threatened Charlie’s plans. 

Jeremy raked a hand over his scalp. This is just getting more frustrating by the second! Why can’t things start making sense??

He could ask Michael if anything Charlie said made sense to him, but then he’d have to explain where this new information came from. 

He couldn’t imagine he could just come out and say the spirit of a dead little girl in his head told him and Michael would just take it. He would definitely get upset, and worried. 

Jeremy sighed, placing the paper back into its spot in the book. Maybe he would try to find a way to tell Michael about Charlie, eventually, but he’d just have to come back to that later. The sun was almost fully set, the first stars beginning to appear, and he still had to grab dinner from some place before heading back to the motel. 

Besides, he’d already salvaged a lot from the car that could be even more enlightening. Namely, a cassette player, with a fairly hefty bag of tapes with it. Maybe he would find answers about the smiling child there. Jeremy was itching to pull it from the bag and listen right now, but he didn’t want to keep Michael waiting. 

Closing the book, Jeremy took one more look around the inside of the car, making sure there was nothing left behind, nothing besides trash and basic survival supplies that is.  

Sliding the book into his coat pocket, Jeremy was about to leave the car when something by his foot caught his eye. 

As he reached down, he noticed the back looked like photo paper. It had probably fallen out of the book when Jeremy flipped it over. 

Jeremy lifted the photograph to get a better look and his eyes widened. 

It was a photo of three children. One infant, one little girl with straight red hair and big green eyes, and one older figure behind them, whose head was scratched out with sharp, jagged white lines. 

No way, it had to be…

Two boys, with a sister between them. 

They were his children. 

Jeremy ran a finger over the angry lines that cut across the eldest son’s face, some even cut all the way through the paper, leaving him completely indiscernible. He really had been hated, hadn’t he? 

He felt his heart ache a little for him, and slid the photo into his inner pocket. 

He wondered how Michael would react to seeing it. 

Jeremy got out of the car and gave the exterior one more look over. With the windows smashed in and only trash inside, it matched more with its surroundings, even if it was a deep purple. 

As Jeremy got back in Michael’s car, he began contemplating which place he should get takeout from. He kind of felt like splurging on something nice, but then briefly wondered if he should start trying to save his money a little. He’d taken everything he could before he left, and while he could buy a house with the cash he had on hand, it would run out eventually, and that didn’t bode well with Michael as their only source of income. 

Jeremy hummed to himself as he waited at a red light. 

Maybe I could get a job too. Some completely unrelated, normal job  on the side, just to keep a little more cash coming in… 

He chucked to himself. The situation they were in was a funny one, wasn’t it? 

With takeout dinner settled in the passenger’s seat, Jeremy began heading home to Michael, just as the sun finally dipped below the mountains and night fell. 

................

Michael wondered if he should be more concerned that a man missing half of his brain was driving his car, but he forgot about all such concerns when he saw the smile on Jeremy’s face through the windshield.  

A look of pure joy and a giddy, unrestrained excitement that Michael couldn’t help but mirror. 

Jeremy pulled in to park and Michael walked around to meet him at the door. The window started rolling down, but instead of being met with Jeremy’s face, Michael got styrofoam take out plates pressed against his nose. 

Reaching out to catch them just in time, Michael hurried out of Jeremy’s way as the other man excitedly flung open the car door and hit him with a million words a second. 

“Michael!! You won’t believe the jackpot I hit on that car! Oh– sorry, to catch you up, Valerie told me that when the building was bought from Fazbear Entertainment, there was a car left in the lot, but it just sat there for months and no one claimed it! They eventually had it towed, so I went to the scrap yard to check it out and it was FULL OF STUFF, I can’t wait to look through it all!!”

Jeremy was practically bouncing up and down on his way around the car to the trunk, having trouble sticking the key in from what Michael hoped was just excitement and not exhaustion.

He was starting to feel excited too. He was beginning to feel the weight of the day lifting, looking forward to a night of digging for clues with Jeremy.  

That is, until Jeremy threw open the trunk and something unmistakable caught Michael’s eye. 

It was an old, grey sweater. The logo was worn, the fabric was pilling, and there was a distinct splotch of ink stained just below the collar. 

Michael watched, tight-lipped, as Jeremy reached in and lifted out box after box of William Afton’s belongings. His father’s belongings. 

Michael felt his fatigue return to him all at once. He tried to keep his sagging shoulders as inconspicuous as possible. But Jeremy must’ve noticed right away, because he immediately set the boxes down and waved dismissively towards the items in the trunk.  

“Oh, hey if you’re too tired, don’t worry about all this! This is all technically my job anyway, and you’ve got the real hard part!... Were you able to sleep much today?”

“Yeah, but uh, I actually ended up going back to Fazbear’s. I wanted to double check that ‘saferoom’, make sure there weren’t any…well, see if there were any other ways out.”

Jeremy blinked at him. “Oh? And?” 

“Nothing. We were right. If that guy you saw in the old cam footage really did run in there that night, he had to have left just after you stopped watching cause there’s no other way he could have gone. And he’d already been there 3 days?” 

“Yeah…” Jeremy looked so deep in thought, Michael was certain he’d lost him completely, but then Jeremy’s eyes flitted up to his and he gave him a smile. 

“Guess we’ll find out tonight when I finish going through that footage!” 

Michael couldn’t help smiling back, but he found it tiring to do even that. He was feeling sick just looking at it all, clothes and old copies of books once strewn about his old house, he even noticed some folders of colorful paperwork he’d sometimes see on the kitchen table that his father would never let him touch. All of it was now boxed up in Jeremy’s hands, and Michael had just one prevailing thought painfully thrashing around in his head.  

This. can. destroy you.  

There could be all kinds of things in there…a journal, pictures, records, who knows what else. If his father so much as had a picture of himself, Michael was doomed, and the life he’d been living for the past month would be over. 

“Oh, and I was wondering if you could help me with something!” Jeremy snapped him out of his thoughts. Michael watched as the other man began rummaging around his coat pockets. He seemed to be keeping a lot in there, but before long, Jeremy had seemingly found what he was looking for from the way his face lit up. 

“Found it!” and he pulled out a small, wooden box. 

Michael felt his throat close up at the sight. And just when he thought he couldn’t feel any worse.

The polished wood shined a little in Jeremy’s hands, the light from the parking lot’s lamp lit up the distinctive six-number dial that protruded from its smooth surface. 

It was his mother’s music box…Jeremy was holding his mother’s music box… 

For a moment, Michael worried he wouldn’t be able to stay calm, but realized that in his attempt to stifle any reaction, he left himself paralyzed, and Jeremy read his silence like an open book. 

Michael watched Jeremy’s features shift from excitement to sober sincerity before the other man opened his mouth and spoke words Michael knew he couldn’t deny. 

“You already know whose stuff this is, don’t you?” 

There it was again, the unbroachable subject of Michael’s connection to his own family. All over again, Michael’s thoughts were torn between Why can’t you just tell him? He’s not going to think any differently of you,  and  He can’t know he can’t know he can’t he can’t he–

“Michael?!”  

Jeremy was suddenly a lot closer to him. And holding the plates of take out. He hadn’t even noticed Jeremy taking them from him. 

Jeremy set the food down on the pavement and set his hands on Michael’s shoulders, gently pushing him backwards. 

“Hey, sit down, I don’t want you to panic again. I’m sorry, I won’t ask, okay? Just please, breathe.” 

Michael let Jeremy press him down to sit on what must’ve been a parking bumper.

He couldn’t think of anything to say, so he didn’t try. He felt so stupid. So cornered. But at the same time, Jeremy had one hand on his shoulder and the other rubbing circles on his back, and he felt so safe. 

“I’m sorry,” Jeremy said after a while, “It must be hard, and I know I’m not making it any easier… you don’t have to have anything to do with this if you don’t want to. Really Michael… but only if you trust me to take care of it. I don’t know what it is you’re so worried about me finding out, but– I can’t imagine it would be anything that would change anything between us…if that’s what you’re worried about…Would it really be so horrible if I knew what it was you’ve been hiding all this time?” 

Yes, yes it would be horrible, Jeremy. More horrible than you can even imagine. Michael could barely stand his own connection to his father, how was Jeremy supposed to take it any better? 

But a part of him wanted…he wanted to believe that nothing would change. Of course things would be different if Jeremy knew who Michael really was, but maybe…maybe he wouldn’t leave. Maybe he would stay. And Michael wouldn’t have to be alone again. Maybe he could keep this. Just this. I felt like too much to ask for. 

“At this point Jeremy–I just, I don’t know– I need to think!” He stood up and walked towards his car, hugging his coat more tightly around himself. 

He was moving as quickly as he could, but felt like the car was miles away. Jeremy called out behind him. 

“O-okay. Good night.” He was still trying to sound cheerful. Michael didn’t deserve to be treated so gently.

“‘Night.”

Normally Michael would wait until Jeremy got back in his room and closed the door before getting back in his car, but he couldn’t wait to get behind a locked door. 

In the safety of his car, Michael gave himself a few minutes to calm down. 

He pulled the lever to lower his seat for bed. Grabbing a blanket from the back seat, Michael draped himself with it briefly before deciding he didn’t want it. 

Then, reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the item that had been weighing him down. 

Michael carefully cradled the box in his hands, fingering over every nick and scratch in the wood that he’d come to know so well.

He knew his father must’ve taken it, when it disappeared the day his father did. He didn’t think he’d ever see it again. 

He gently ran his thumb across the number lock before carefully clicking each number into place. 

3-9. His mother’s birthday

5-2. His father’s. 

4-8. Their wedding day. 

A small click came from the box, and Michael carefully pried the stiff lid open.

Ignoring the small object that had been rattling around inside, Michael reached for the small lever beside it and twisted it three times. Just to see. 

As soon as he took his hand off the small piece of brass, a gentle melody played from the box, filling the stale air of his car. 

Swan Lake. His mother’s favorite. His favorite. His mother’s favorite song from her favorite ballet.  

Michael didn’t realize his eyes had fallen closed until they flew open when the music stopped. 

Laying sideways in his reclined seat, he twisted the handle again, as many times as the mechanism would allow, and settled against the rough cushions. 

Listening to the tinkling melody, he thought of his mother. When he closed his eyes, he could almost see her dancing in their living room. 

He had loved watching his mother dance. Every inch of her was grace, and gentleness, and she never looked happier than when she was dancing.

Michael curled in on himself, as if to protect this last little piece of his childhood from the world. The last good part anyway. 

Michael Afton laid there and listened. He tried to remember the good times, they were so long ago, he could barely remember any. Or maybe there weren’t that many to begin with, even then. 

Michael tucked an arm under his head, music box nestled in the other in front of him. He pulled his knees in and let himself shed new tears for old wounds. Wounds older than his siblings’ deaths, even older than his father’s abuse. The day she left, the day she gave him her  music box. 

His father had made it for her, it was a gift, back when he had been the type to give gifts. It was her way of leaving every last bit of her family behind. 

For some reason, Michael could never be bitter about it. He couldn’t hate her, or blame her. 

He just couldn't believe that he, the one his father hated the most, had been the one that stayed.

Michael sniffled, exhaling with a shuddering breath, and thought of his family. What strange circumstances have pulled them all apart, and even stranger ones that have been bringing them back together. He squeezed the box in his hand, just lightly, enough to make sure it was really there. 

In some small way, Michael felt like he got his mother back. 

He lifted his eyes slightly to watch fresh snow falling outside through the passenger window. 

So why didn’t he feel better? He got his most prized possession back, this song was his comfort in his darkest moments. It always made him feel better…

His nose was plugging up, his vision completely blurred. Tears kept flowing. 

…why isn’t it working?...

He squeezed his eyes shut, sending the water that had been pooling there streaking down his face. His breath quivered as he struggled to breathe. It took everything in him to keep from crying out and breaking down completely. He held on tightly to the little wooden box in his hand, held on to everything it meant, and tried to keep as quiet as he could. 

Michael didn’t know how long he laid there crying, before he finally passed into a fitful sleep to the melody of the music box. 

Chapter Text

Michael wasn’t surprised to find himself in another dream. 

He looked out in front of him, but was blinded by lights shining in his eyes. When they adjusted, he saw a sea of children, jumping up and down and cheering, and another figure standing just in his periphery. 

Michael looked down and saw the glossy finish of a stage under him. 

Looking back out at the crowd, he wondered for the millionth time how these dreamscapes worked. 

Was it the children reaching out to him, or the other way around? Maybe it didn’t matter, as long as he could help them move on after all this time.

Michael turned to the figure beside him and felt his blood turn to ice. It was his father. 

Well, it was the Golden Bonnie suit, but Michael was sure his father was in there. It was the suit he used to wear all the time at work. His creation that he was so proud of, an animatronic suit you could wear. It was revolutionary. 

It was such an old memory, but seeing him standing there in that suit brought them all back. Memories of the first stage. 

He felt a surge of anger upon seeing this again. A once normal scene of performing for kids on stage. The sound of his father’s jovial laughter could be heard through the mask. 

What a joke. 

Before he could even think to stop himself, he dove at the man, but instead of colliding with something, Michael went right through him. He landed roughly on his elbows and flipped onto his back to catch his breath. 

“Oh I get it… go right through him but smack into the ground. Should’ve seen that coming…” he muttered bitterly. 

He stood up and walked around a little. No one seemed to pay him any mind. 

He looked out at the shadowy crowd of children come to see Freddy and Bonnie. All wide, smiling mouths and wide, shining eyes. He needed a better vantage point. 

The song of his mother’s music box echoed around him. 

Turning around and walking to the back of the stage, Michael tentatively tested the stage rigging with a fairly hard tug. 

Satisfied, he gripped the ropes tight and hoisted himself up, using the back wall for support. 

Once he reached the top, he again surveyed the children in the crowd. None of them were the one he was looking for. 

His eyes searched methodically over the audience a couple more times before giving up. 

What was he supposed to do?? He had cake but no one to give it to. And there were no red balloons to follow this time, or any other ways for him to go. 

Swan Lake played on. 

Ready to climb down and try something else, he raised a hand to the ceiling to steady himself, but almost lost complete control when his hand passed right through. 

“Really?! This too??” He briefly worried if the ropes he was clinging to would suddenly decide to also become incorporeal. 

Experimentally, Michael reached his hand up to the ceiling again. It was weird, his hand could go through it, but he could also feel it. His hand pressed flat on the other side and he took a gamble letting his other hand release the rigging. 

Instead of falling, he hung there, dangling by the one hand that was somehow going through and gripping the ceiling at the same time. 

Reaching up with his other, now free, hand, Michael hoisted himself up, all the way through the ceiling, and touched solid surface on the other side. 

Michael was now standing above it all, and found he could walk back and forth across the whole room. It was weird to see the walls of it but also be able to see right through it. 

He looked away from the room to the area surrounding. There wasn’t anything to see, just darkness that felt like it went on forever. Michael walked all the way to the opposite edge and looked off into nothingness. Should he really chance it?

He glared down at the stage where his father stood performing, singing and dancing to some other music Michael couldn’t hear. 

Anything’s better than staying here…

Michael faced the darkness and took a few steps backwards. Gathering his resolve, he sprinted towards the edge and leapt off. 

For a terrifying moment, there was nothing but the cold dark rushing past him, but as soon as he left the light of the stage behind, he heard it. The sounds of sobs and sniffles. Michael didn’t think it sounded all that different from himself when he was falling asleep. 

Michael wasn't falling through the air for very long before he began to make out a dim light in front of him. It was a room just like the last one, one he could see into, but also see the walls around it, one of which Michael was rapidly approaching. 

Crossing his arms in front of him, Michael braced for impact, praying he would go right through it just like the others.

Evidently, some prayers are answered, as Michael found himself falling right through the wall into the boxy room.  

Picking himself up quickly, Michael eyed the child in the corner of the room.

They were pale, and small, so different from the ones watching the show. 

Gearing himself up, Michael stepped up to the child as non threateningly as he could. He could feel their fear, their sadness, their hatred. 

While the other kids celebrated in another room, they were here, in this backroom, dead and crying out for help that would never come. 

Until today. 

Michael knelt in front of them and displayed the large, three tiered cake he brought. 

“Hey kid, this is for you!” He kept his voice upbeat but gentle. “You never got that cake you were promised, huh? What’s say you and me have a little party of our own? I’ve already invited your friends… whaddya say?” 

The child turned to look at him, tears streaking down their face, they opened their mouth, and for the first time in any of his dreams, the child spoke. 

He loves this song too.   

Michael’s smile fell. “What?” 

Then his dream fractured into pieces and he woke up. 

…

When Michael knocked on Jeremy’s door, he braced himself for whatever mood he’d find the other man in. He had stormed off pretty suddenly after their last conversation, if you could even call it that. More like Jeremy read him like a book and Michael panicked and ran off. He couldn't imagine Jeremy would be very happy to just drop it like Michael wanted him to. 

Ironically, that left him unprepared for the bright smile and cheery attitude Jeremy greeted him with. 

“Hey Michael! Ready to go? Here, mind holding this for me? Thanks, let’s get a move on, those tapes aren’t gonna watch themselves!” 

Jeremy hustled on past him and down the stairs while Michael stood there, a little shell-shocked. 

He wasn’t…mad? 

Wait no, he could still be mad. Have you ever seen him really mad before? What if he becomes freakishly happy when he’s really mad? 

Cautiously, Michael peered over the railing at Jeremy who had already reached the car below. 

He walked over to the driver’s side, pulled out the keys, and let himself in. 

Wait…

Michael watched Jeremy through the windshield turn on the car and get the heater going…with his keys. 

“What the–?!” Michael reached for his keys at his belt only to grab at empty air. 

“Jeremy, what the heck!!” Michael leapt over the railing and ran around the car to the driver’s side. 

“You swiped my keys?? Are you kidding me?!” 

Jeremy gestured silently through the glass: I don’t know what you’re talking about.

“If you wanted to drive us there that badly, you could've just said so…”

Jeremy just laughed and pointed to the seat beside him. 

Michael rolled his eyes and walked over to the passenger’s side, opening the door but not getting in, just leaning his head in. 

“Jeremy, seriously, what are you doing?” 

Still silent, and seemingly refusing to look him in the eye, Jeremy reached out and pat the passenger’s seat cushion. 

Michael sighed and climbed in, adjusting Jeremy’s bag in his lap and closing the door behind him. 

“What is this about? Jeremy, I–” 

Jeremy just shifted gears and swung them out of the parking lot and onto the road. 

“Whoa! Jeremy, I wasn’t buckled!” 

“Oh noooo…” Jeremy drawled sarcastically. 

Michael huffed, strapping in and looking out the window. 

“You just felt like driving, or did you want something from me?” 

Michael started getting nervous, realizing it was definitely the second one. Jeremy soon confirmed his suspicions. 

“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice? You thought I would just forget?” 

Forget what?? Oh no, he really was upset about something, wasn’t he? 

“Open the bag, Michael.”

Michael hesitantly opened the bag and pulled out…

“Huh?” Michael looked down at the tray in his hands and carefully pried it open to reveal a plate of warm food that puffed steam into his face. 

“ You didn’t eat! Don’t think I forgot, I brought us back dinner and you just stormed off into your car, which was totally fine for you to do, except that you didn’t get any food!” Jeremy waved a hand at the steaming plate.
“So there, I reheated that for you. Now eat it! Or I’ll drive us in circles until you do, no matter how late it makes us to your shift, don’t think I won’t!” 

Michael looked from the plate to Jeremy, who was looking between Michael and the road, a firmness set in his brow. 

“So that’s what this is about.” Jeremy was just making sure he’d eaten. He was just looking out for him. 

Michael looked back down at the food. It looked…expensive…and smelled really good. He wanted to ask where Jeremy got it from, but he was also a little afraid to ask. Jeremy was already taking care of him a lot more than he needed to. He didn’t need to do any of this. 

Michael began to feel a pang of guilt wondering if he’d done just as good a job at making sure Jeremy had been eating well. He was the recovering hospital patient after all. 

Looking him over, Michael realized that Jeremy really had filled out since they’d first met in that hospital. He must not have noticed because of how gradually it happened, but his cheeks were no longer hollow, and his arms and wrists were no longer just skin and bones. 

“You’re doing it again.” 

Michael jumped when Jeremy turned to look at him. 

“Doing what?” 

“Staring.”

Michael felt heat creep up his neck and into his face. “What- I don’t stare!” 

“Sure you do. C’mon, Michael, is it that surprising that I want you to have a decent meal at least once a day? That’s like– I dunno, bare minimum.” 

…Bare minimum, huh?

Michael thought about how many times he’d went to bed without food since he started chasing after his father. All the nights he’d curl up in his car, hungry, and trying his best to sleep it off. He found himself once again awestruck by the mere fact that Jeremy was here, in his life, right now. What did he ever do to deserve this?

“You’re staring again.” 

“Jeremy, I’m not–”

“Eeeeaaaat!” 

“Okay, okay!” Michael tried to sound exasperated, but he was too happy to even pretend to be annoyed. 

Now that his mouth was occupied, Jeremy struck up a new, one-sided conversation about how smoothly the car ran now that Michael had fixed it, before drifting to other, miscellaneous topics. 

The conversation carried on, and true to his word, Jeremy didn’t bring up what happened last night, the Afton family, the music box, or anything Fazbear related for the entire drive. 

That is, until Michael finished his food and felt like he needed to bring it back up again. 

“I got the box open by the way–” 

“Really?!” Jeremy’s reaction was surprisingly immediate considering it was to a line Michael figured was very out of context. He could see Jeremy’s huge grin in the corner of his eye, but he kept his gaze fixed on the empty tray in his lap. “There was something in it, right?” 

Still not looking at Jeremy, Michael reached into his pocket, past the opened music box and to the small piece of metal that had been rattling around inside. 

“Here.” 

He handed it to Jeremy who took it gingerly between his fingers. It was a thin, silver band, with three simple jewels in the center. 

“A ring?” his tone grew somber “…his wife’s?” 

Michael nodded. 

Jeremy reached out as if to give it back, but Michael made no move to take it, and Jeremy eventually dropped it into the cup holder between them. 

Jeremy cleared his throat and let out a good natured laugh. 

“I knew you could do it! You’re good with, ya know, tools n’ stuff…” There was a short silence before Jeremy continued. “Must’ve taken you all night, I didn’t see you leave the car the whole time I was bringing all the boxes upstairs. But I guess you’ve had a lot on your mind, or– something like that…” 

Man . Things had gotten so awkward between them now that they were both openly acknowledging the fact that Michael was keeping big secrets from him. He hoped Jeremy knew he hated it too.  

“Yeah, something like that.” 

Michael couldn’t see Jeremy’s reaction to his curt response, he didn’t want to, but the other man had gone awfully silent. 

Wildly more uncomfortable, Michael shifted in his seat and stared out the side window. That almost made it worse now that they’d left the valleys behind and all there was to see out here was dirt and rocks. 

“You know,” Jeremy’s tone was concerningly accusatory, “When I came to sit in the driver’s seat, your pillow and blanket were on the floor here…” 

Ah crap. 

“You slept in here all night, didn’t you?” 

Drat. 

Michael didn’t have the time or energy to think of a story that could cover up such damning evidence. Not a story Jeremy would find believable, anyway. Though Michael figured he could at least come clean about something today. 

Smoothing over all this tension starts with telling the truth about little things like this, Michael. 

He wrung his hands together as he struggled to word his confession. 

“Yeah, I–I did…and actually,” Michael pressed forward before he could change his mind,  “I actually have been. I could only afford a room for the first night we got here. I’ve–uh, been sleeping in the car since then…” 

Jeremy was silent for a second. Then, “So…the plumbing in your room wasn’t broken.”

“No.” 

“You just didn’t have a room.” 

“Yeah.” 

“At all.” 

“Mmhm.” 

“This whole time?”

“..yup..” 

Jeremy was silent, to the point where Michael considered letting his gaze leave the safety of his lap for a moment, but then Jeremy slammed on the breaks, pulling them over to the side of the road. Michael almost cursed as he was flung forward, dirty tray and utensils spilling onto the floor at his feet. 

“Hey! Jerem-” 

“Michael, are you serious?!”

“What?? You know what Freddy’s wages are like, how am I supposed to afford that?”

“You could have told me!” 

“And then what? Have you spend your money on me? I’d never be able to pay you back!”

“We owe each other our lives at this point Michael, I think we’re a little beyond monetary IOUs.” 

Michael picked up his tray and utensils with a huff. He couldn’t think of a single time he’d saved Jeremy’s life, at least, when it hadn’t been his fault in the first place. In fact, any danger in Jeremy’s life was basically because of him. Jeremy didn’t owe him a thing. 

But something told him Jeremy would not appreciate that thought being voiced. He kept his mouth shut and accepted Jeremy’s string of beratements.

“And don’t get me started on how unhealthy it is for you! I swear, you’re gonna have back problems at 25!” 

Michael rolled his neck and sat up as straight as he could, now uncomfortably aware of how sore his back was. 

“You’re sleeping in MY room tonight, got that?” 

“Jeremy, I’ve been doing it for months! I don’t really see the problem–” 

“Well not anymore you’re not! I’m not getting back on the road till you agree.” 

Michael scrubbed a hand over his face. “Okay fine! Yes, ‘ I agree’ !” 

Satisfied, Jeremy floored it back onto the road just as quickly as he’d got them off, his upset frown morphing back into a happy smile. 

“Fantastic.”  

……………

It took Jeremy a whole 10 minutes to realize that he hadn’t done anything since he entered the building. 

10 after midnight, Michael checked in.

“Hey Jeremy, you doing okay? You’re just kind of…sitting there.” 

Jeremy shot up from where he had been sitting on the floor. “Oh–right, sorry! Just– lost in thought!” 

“Don’t apologize.” Why did Michael’s voice always sound so gentle? “I was just checking. What were you thinking about?” 

“Uuuh.” 

Nothing was the honest answer. Jeremy got into the room, set up the phone call with Michael, and got a little distracted just listening to the man work. 

Michael talked aloud a lot, and when he worked night shifts he was muttering to himself almost constantly, and Jeremy found himself content to listen. 

It reminded Jeremy of the first phone call they’d had, when Jeremy walked Michael through how to survive his shift. 

Michael had been muttering to himself then too, little mental reminders about where each animatronic was moving and when, keeping track of them on the map and doing whatever it took to stay alive. There was just something about it that Jeremy found very…captivating.

But only now Jeremy remembered that Michael could technically see whatever he was doing through the cameras whenever he wanted. And in this case, that included seeing Jeremy sitting on the floor doing absolutely nothing because he was too busy listening to Michael talk to himself over the phone. 

“Hey, shouldn’t you be keeping your eye on the Springlock?” Jeremy deflected poorly. It worked. 

“I sent him over to Foxy’s hallway. He always stands there and stares at it for some reason.”

“Stares at the Foxy head?” 

“Yeah. I figure I should just see it as a blessing in disguise and send him there to give myself a break every now and then. What’s strange about it though, is that…” 

As Michael talked, Jeremy began setting up his space. Kicking himself for already wasting time, he decided he wanted to pull up the camera footage from last time, and listen to the old training tapes at the same time. 

“Kay, Michael, I’m going to be listening to the rest of these training tapes the manager found. So if you need anything…shout extra loud, I guess.” 

Michael’s chuckle crackled over the speaker, underlining the high pitched giggle from the audio lure sounding from a distant part of the building. 

“If I shouted down this vent between us, I’d have a better chance of being heard.” 

“Ooo, should I test that?” Jeremy teased, leaning in the direction of the vent, certain Michael was still watching him.  

He could practically hear Michael roll his eyes on the other end of the line.   

“Whatever, let me get back to work.” Then Michael went quiet, for just a moment, before returning back to his work-induced muttering. 

Jeremy sat and listened for a while before facing back to the tv, trying to tune out the sound of Michael’s voice.

“Whatever you say.” 

…

Jeremy decided to watch the footage from the beginning, now that he and Charlie had established that the strange man running from nothing was, in fact, William Afton. 

Jeremy started from the earliest point the mold and tearing didn’t damage, looking closely as Afton ran past every camera and down every hallway. When he ran off camera, into what he and Michael determined to be the employee “safe room”, Jeremy sat back and waited. 

And waited. 

Aaaaand waited. 

Jeremy yawned and spared a glance at his watch. After a half hour of scrubbing through the tape on fast forward, there was still nothing. Afton didn’t leave, and nothing else moved. 

Jeremy picked up his phone from where he’d left it standing next to him. 

“Hey Michael, uh, anything interesting happening on your end?” Other than the clack of pushing buttons and the beeps of monitors, Michael hadn’t made a single sound. Which was odd. 

“Yeah, just– man, does this guy ever quit??” 

“Oh? Someone finally giving you a run for your money?” 

“Ha ha. Now let me focus. Unless you have any new revelations to share?” 

Jeremy stared dejectedly at his unvarying screen. 

“No, nothing. Literally. It really doesn’t make any sense.” 

But still, Jeremy was expecting, any second now, for Afton to come crawling back out of that room to make his escape. It had been at least three days by now, if the digital date blinking at the bottom of the screen was to be believed. How long could he have possibly stayed there? What was he running from in the first place? 

The audio tape Jeremy was simultaneously listening to stopped, and he looked away from the tv for a moment as he put in a new one. 

When he sat back up, he almost jumped at the new image on the screen. There was someone there, entering the building from the back door. 

“What’s this?” 

Curiosity piqued, Jeremy scooted closer and followed as the man searched through the building, stopping at the doors of the safe room. 

Jeremy watched as the man opened them up, and just stared inside. He didn’t move, and Jeremy wished he could see the man’s face. Then, as if he’d simply opened the wrong door, the man closed it again, and walked back out, though perhaps in a bit more of a hurry than when he entered. 

Jeremy scribbled this all down furiously in his notes, he’d have to tell Michael about it later, because after that things began moving again. Groups of people started coming in and out, clearly workers of some kind, and they would stand in front of the doors but never open them. Afton still hadn’t left. 

Almost as if on cue, the audio finished rewinding and Jeremy hit play, returning his eyes to the screen. 

“Uh, hello? Hello? Uh, this is just to inform all employees that due to federal restrictions, the previously mentioned safe rooms are being sealed at most locations… Including this one… Work crews will be here most of the day today, constructing a false wall over the old door frame.” 

True to the phone guy’s words, those groups of workers efficiently boarded up the doors and then began constructing a false wall. 

“Nothing has been taken out beforehand, so if you left anything inside, then it’s your own fault.”

He hadn’t seen Afton leave, and now the door was blocked up. After those men left, no one returned to the building.

“Management also requests that this room not be mentioned to family, friends, or insurance representatives.”

High on his rising anxiety, Jeremy forwarded through days, weeks, months. Finally, dated just a couple weeks ago, was footage of a man and two familiar girls entering the building and beginning work on creating their own horror attraction. The footage moved through Michael’s interview, their first night, all the way to when he and Michael opened the doors, seeing what had been kept inside. 

“Thanks again, and remember to smile;”

They had only seen one thing in that room. 

Something that had been rotting away since being locked in there, after all this time. 

“You are the face of Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza.” 

Jeremy clicked off the tv, almost startling himself with his own panicked reflection. 

“Charlie, what is this?…He– he never came out…” 

Jeremy paused the recording he’d been listening to, in case that affected his ability to hear her, and when he looked back up, she was there in the tv behind him. 

But she looked different. She didn’t appear to him like the little girl she often did. 

She was the Puppet again, long, stripped limbs and tear-streaked mask. 

Charlie didn’t say a word, just stared at him, expectant. She was in his head, she already knew what he was thinking. The conclusion he’d just pieced together. 

“There’s no way that’s him, Charlie…that’s—it’s impossible!” 

The Puppet just shook her head in a rigid, quivering movement. Jeremy felt the blood drain from his face. 

“There has to be–there has to be another explanation…” 

The Puppet trembled, and Jeremy wasn’t sure if it was because she was frustrated with him or laughing at him. 

“Well if he’s been here the whole time, why haven’t we done anything about it yet?!” Finally, Charlie responded. 

What could you have done? He is between life and death, only I can deal with the likes of him. You’ve just been here biding time. 

“What do you mean, ‘biding time’? Biding time for what?” 

For me to get here. 

A muffled sound came from beside him and Jeremy abruptly remembered Michael. He must have heard everything. 

Jeremy picked up his phone, bringing it to his ear, trying to ready some excuse, but Michael’s voice replaced all his jumbled thoughts with one urgent question.  

“Jeremy, what is that behind you?” 

Jeremy looked back up at his reflection, but there was nothing behind him, just the Puppet. 

But Michael shouldn’t be able to see that. 

He whipped his head around and saw her standing there, in the same place, just outside the door in the hallway. 

It took Jeremy a moment too long to realize that that shouldn’t be the case.

“Jeremy!” came Michael’s panicked voice right into his ear, “Is that the Pu–”

Charlie flicked her head to the side, as if something down the hall had suddenly caught her eye, and Michael’s voice abruptly stopped. 

Jeremy blinked and she was gone, but he didn’t have to wonder long on where she went. 

Michael let out a shout of surprise over the phone, and a sound piercing as a siren blared from the speaker. 

Jeremy clutched his head between his hands, he felt like his skull was splitting open. The noise dug under his skin and rattled his bones, and Jeremy felt like he might pass out from the pain. 

…till it all stopped. 

All sound was replaced with a single, piercing, high-pitched tone. 

Jeremy didn’t know how long he stayed on the floor, trying to stop a wave of nausea churning in his stomach. 

Then, as slowly as he could, he let go of his head, bracing his hands against the wet floor, and pushed himself to his knees. The monotone was coming from his phone that must have fallen over in the chaos. He couldn’t hear Michael anymore. 

Jeremy stared at the unresponsive phone  in shock. 

“Mi…chael?” 

……………. 

Focused as Michael had been on keeping the Springlock distracted, his attention was quickly pulled away from the cameras when he heard Jeremy’s voice coming over the phone. 

Once again, Michael noticed that he was not the one Jeremy was talking to. 

Except this time, Michael got a name. 

“There’s no way that’s him, Charlie…that’s—it’s impossible!” 

‘Charlie’? Who on earth is he talking to?? And how–

“There has to be–there has to be another explanation…” 

Jeremy seemed too engrossed this time to remember to cover up the phone. Michael stayed quiet to not remind Jeremy he was there. He still had his eyes on the Springlock though, and didn’t feel comfortable changing the camera just yet. So Michael listened. 

“Well if he’s been here the whole time, why haven’t we done anything about it yet?!” 

…

“What do you mean, ‘biding time’? Biding time for what?” 

Michael couldn’t take it any longer. He switched the camera to Jeremy’s room and saw him standing in front of the tv, hands balled into fists. The tv wasn’t on. 

Michael squinted at the incomplete picture he was seeing. Jeremy was seeing something in that screen. 

Michael was leaning in so close, the static tickled his nose. He thought he could almost make out a shape in the darkness reflecting off the blank tv screen. 

“Jeremy, what is that behind you?” Michael watched as Jeremy’s head whipped to his phone on the floor and brought it up to his ear. He repeated himself before Jeremy could get a word in. 

“Jeremy, what is that behind you?” 

As soon as he asked, Michael changed the camera to the hallway adjacent to Jeremy, and he jumped when the usually empty room was now occupied by a long, thin figure, with a familiar white mask. 

“Jeremy!” Michael exclaimed, heart racing, “Is that the Pu–”

The figure twisted its head to peer directly into the camera and Michael threw himself backwards just as his camera panel was thrown aside, and something strong and wiry leapt at him from the darkness. 

A deafening screech filled his ears, and Michael instinctively clamped his hands over them to dampen the sound. His vision was going in and out so rapidly, he would have thought the lights were flickering. 

Two points of light shined from the mask’s eyeholes, an oily black substance dripping down the Puppet’s once pristine, white face. 

He tried to turn, searching for some kind of weapon, but the Puppet turned with him, blocking his view of anything. 

Michael struggled to move at all, the shrieking feeling like a physical weight, pressing down on his body, restricting his movements. 

Feeling like he was moving through sludge, Michael reached forward, trying to grab at it, but as soon as his hand touched the mask’s chipped surface, there was a bright flash and Michael felt himself go weightless. 

When he blinked the brightness from his eyes, he found himself kneeling on the floor, the Puppet hovering over him, the world around them altered. 

He could partially make out portions of the office through the dripping oil and thick fog. 

Focusing his attention back to the real danger, Michael was somewhat surprised to see that despite the mask freezing its expression in a smile, the Puppet looked like it was glowering at him. 

The voice of a very young girl echoed in his mind. 

Afton…

The name hung in the air between them. The Puppet’s voice was calm but filled with malice. Michael worked through the sawdust scratching his throat. 

“I… I’m not the Afton you think I am. I–” 

The Puppet moved its head slowly from side to side, glowing eyes wide in the gaping holes of the mask. 

Oh, I know exactly who you are, Michael Afton. 

Okay, maybe I am who she thinks I am… 

Just like the Springlock, the Puppet knew who he was. How? Every animatronic had always mistaken him for his father. 

He looked around him. She seemed pretty angry despite knowing his real identity, though maybe she thought the blood relation was enough reason to distrust him. He had to show he owed no loyalties to that man. 

“I’m trying to find my Father, I promise, I’m here to help!” 

So everyone keeps saying… 

Her disbelief was evident. 

Jeremy in particular seems to be advocating quite highly for you. I honestly don’t see why.

The Puppet leaned in closer, bright eyes shining from the black of its mask. 

Maybe because he doesn’t know what you’ve done. He doesn’t know who you really are. 

Michael felt his blood begin to boil at the mention of Jeremy. “And you do?! You don’t know anything about us! If you did–” 

I know enough! the Puppet cut him off coldly, leaving his words dying in his throat. 

I know you shamelessly defended your father when he was arrested for the first murders. I know that you want nothing more than his approval and that you do everything he asks, and , she added with malevolence, I know about Evan . 

Michael’s stomach dropped at the mention of his brother’s name. The Puppet’s air changed, she straightened, lifting her head high, eyes cast down to where Michael knelt. 

Her voice was less angry, now more mocking.  

Shall I tell Jeremy? I’m sure he’d love to know… 

Fear gripped Michael’s heart. So this was the thing Jeremy had been talking to. Could she have told him this whole time? Why didn’t she? Well, whatever was stopping her before didn’t seem to be stopping her now. Michael tried to form words through his growing panic. 

 “No, don't. You–you can’t–” 

She raised one of her limp limbs, strings of light dancing between her fingers. 

I’m the one who pulls the strings here, Michael. Got that? 

At the ends of the strings an image formed, of Jeremy kneeling on the floor of the room they’d left him in. He was doubled over, clutching his head. Michael couldn’t hear anything, but Jeremy looked like he was in pain. 

A fleeting wave of anger replaced every other emotion coursing through him.  

Michael squared his shoulders. He had to show a little more backbone. No matter what, he had to gain some ground back in this conversation, or else Jeremy…

"What do you want with Jeremy?” he shouted up at the Puppet. “He’s done nothing wrong, you have no right to play with his life like this!" She rose above him again, clearly angered by his returning defiance. 

I'd watch your words. She spat back, vehemently. I'm the reason he is even alive today. That bite should have killed him, but I thought he could still be useful… but if you want me to leave him alone…

From her other hand, she raised a sharp finger to the marionette strings. 

I could cut him off now and we can see what happens… 

Michael raised his hands as if at gunpoint, hoping she understood his sign of surrender. “Please, we’re not any danger to you, we’re trying to hel–” 

Jeremy I trust, it’s you I don’t believe. 

Michael flinched as she cut off his words. She began to sink lower, coming towards him. 

I’m going to kill you now, Michael Afton.  

He could no longer move, it was as if the air itself was restraining him, allowing just enough space for him to breathe, for however much longer he’d be able to do even that. 

I kept you around because I needed Jeremy and Jeremy needed you.  

She raised her other hand, white threads extending like needles into the air. 

But I don’t need either of you anymore. Not after tonight. We are all gathered in one place. It’s time to get rid of him once and for all. He will get what he deserves. 

“But will you?” 

The Puppet faltered, her arm twitching back slightly at Michael’s unexpected remark. 

Excuse me?

Michael rolled back his shoulders, trying to sit just a little higher. 

“Maybe he does deserve to suffer, but the kids shouldn’t have to as well just to ensure it!”  

This is what they want, what they need! And I will make sure they get it!

“They don’t want this anymore!” 

SHUT UP! 

The Puppet threw her arms down, enraged, but at least if she was arguing with him, she wouldn’t kill him just yet. 

Don’t act like you know anything about what we’ve gone through! What we are going through. What do you know?!

Michael stayed silent. He figured that if the Puppet was bent on revenge, it wouldn’t appreciate Michael coming to the children in his dreams and helping them to find peace instead. 

He was right. 

No... the Puppet hissed, clearly understanding what Michael was refusing to confess.

You’ve met them, haven’t you. What have you been saying to them?  

The air around them thickened, and Michael felt like he was in the middle of an earthquake. Everything shook, darkness pouring down the walls around them like ink. 

What right do you have to even speak to them, you with the face of their killer, the children I saved! The Puppet threw its head back, trembling with fury.  

I’m giving them a chance for revenge, why are you trying to stop us?! 

The more the Puppet raged and screamed, the more the ink-like darkness streamed down from above. It was filling the entire room, covering his face, his hands, and anything he tried to touch. 

It was like liquid hatred, filling up the entire space, threatening to drown them all in it. It’s exactly what was happening to those kids. 

It was about to happen to all of them if Michael didn’t do something. 

He shut his eyes trying to will the darkness away. 

He tried to let go of his own anger, his agitation, his personal fears. He tried to focus on what he was really here for. 

Yes he was here to find his father, yes he wanted answers, but that wasn’t what was most important to him. 

He was here to make things right, to help the children his father had hurt, and mend irreparable damage. There was still hope for their happiness, he believed that, and he wanted nothing more than for them to obtain it. 

Do you like birthday parties? A chorus of melded voices rang in his ears. 

The screaming stopped. So did the rumbling. 

Michael opened his eyes and saw that the flooding darkness was gone too. 

The Puppet still hovered in front of him, but between them was a child. Small and emanating a pale, grey light. They looked just as they did from his dreams, but they were no longer crying. 

He felt two pairs of arms wrap around each of his, and he looked to either side of him to see more children, 4 in total, surrounding him in a ring, keeping the darkness at bay. 

The Puppet reeled back and floated higher in the air, unsure of itself. 

What are you doing? 

Listen to him. They spoke in unison, different voices mingling together in a hushed but firm declaration. 

The Puppet visibly shuddered. Why should I?? Have you forgotten what he’s done? Have you forgotten what happened to Evan? 

Again, Michael felt his brother’s name like a knife through his chest. He looked around at the kids shielding him from the Puppet’s wrath. They all knew? And they were still here?

Evan is the reason we are here. 

Michael’s eyes widened in disbelief. Evan sent them? To help him? Why?...

Why would he do that? 

Even if Evan has somehow forgiven him, what about all the years after? He’s become nothing but a puppet for his father, how can you possibly trust him?

He helped us open our eyes. 

You’re saying you no longer want Afton to suffer for what he has done?!  

Whether he suffers or not, we will not suffer here any longer for his sake. 

The Puppet shrieked, reeling its head back and flailing its arms. 

WHY??! After all this time, I thought this is what you wanted!! 

They shook their heads. 

Not anymore. He has helped us see that. 

The children pressed closer, Michael could feel a slight warmth radiating off them. It was blissful on his cold skin, and he found himself leaning on them for support. 

The Puppet was still for a long time, head bowed slightly in thought. 

After some moments passed, she finally lifted her head and addressed the children a final time. Her voice shook bitterly. 

You are sure you want him to do this for you? 

The warmth from the children’s light gradually grew into an almost searing heat. Michael felt their words burn into his skin like a promise. 

We demand it. 

Then, their surroundings bleached into an almost blinding white, and the spirits of the children disappeared, expelling the remaining darkness around them. Michael and the Puppet were left in an empty space, filled with light. 

The world around them was quiet, almost peaceful. He even felt a little lasting heat still clinging to his clothes, warming his skin. 

He couldn't believe what just happened. 

The Puppet drew closer, and Michael could only hang his head, feeling grateful to and unworthy of the lives who had just saved his. 

But then, a pair of shoes stepped into his view, and when he looked up, he saw the Puppet had become a young girl, with long dark hair and empty, dark eyes.  

Well, Michael Afton, she said in a bridled tone. It seems it is the will of the dead that you live. 

It seems it was. 

As undeserving as Michael felt, he had to accept this responsibility now. He and Jeremy would, together. 

As if she was reading his thoughts, the Puppet spoke up.

Oh, speaking of Jeremy…

She snapped her fingers and the office slowly began to shift back into focus. Michael could even feel the tepid air returning. The video and audio panel popped open on its own and the Puppet flipped through the different feeds with a flick of her fingers. 

Oh no, here he is.  she said, sounding completely unbothered. 

Michael squinted through the haze and was able to make out what was on the screens. Jeremy was dashing past camera after camera, sloppily navigating throughout the maze of hallways.  The Springlock animatronic was following close behind. 

He seems to become very reckless when it comes to saving you. She commented lightly, gesturing to the panel. You’d better help him, she said, as Michael tried to take over the controls. The images on the screen shimmered in and out of his vision, all he could see was the audio button, but he let it go when the Puppet turned back to him with another meaningful stare. 

Save them. You owe them that now. Never forget that. 

“...I won’t.” 

The office surroundings continued to return to view, growing more and more tangible. He reached out to the camera panel. Jeremy needed him. 

He pressed the button and heard the telltale laugh reverberate around the invisible confines of this space. 

The Puppet nodded.

He will be safe for now. 

Grasping the edges of the desk for support, Michael lifted himself off his knees and rose to his feet. 

“And you’ll keep him that way, right?” 

The Puppet seemed to bristle a little at the demand, but Michael wasn’t taking any chances with Jeremy. He needed to know that she would keep him safe. 

After a moment though, she seemed to relax, hopefully because she knew he was in earnest. 

He will be under my protection. 

Michael nodded, more to himself, and tried to see Jeremy on the cameras again through the hazy fog.

I will send you back now. He is waiting for you. 

“Jeremy?” 

She shook her head. 

Dread settled in the pit of his stomach as Michael realized what she meant. Her expression changed, looking almost like pity. 

I can help you too, but I need more time. 

She began to drift away from him, her ghostly form melding into the white fog, her voice getting softer. 

5 minutes. Stall him for 5 minutes. Stay alive for 5 minutes. 

“Stay alive? No problem.” With a quiet rush of wind, the Puppet disappeared, and Michael’s surroundings finally melted completely back into the dank office.  

Michael reached for the video monitor before staying his hand. It hovered over the panel for a moment, before slowly returning to his side. 

He didn’t need it. He was already here. 

Michael turned his head to the open doorway, gaze fixing on a pair of glowing, yellow eyes. 

Chapter Text

This was probably the worst idea Jeremy had ever had. 

It was dark, with no flashlight, he didn't know where he was going, and the springlock animatronic was right at his heels. 

Well, it seemed right at his heels, but Jeremy couldn’t actually catch it moving. It just always seemed to be there when Jeremy took a hurried glance behind him, like it was some messed up game of red light-green light. 

Confronted by the rabbit’s silhouette at the end of the hallway, Jeremy had to once again double back and try again. He had to reach Michael in that office, before Charlie… before Charlie did something crazy. 

He had tried to reach Michael through the vents at first, but the grate inside locked just as he got there. He wondered if Charlie had been able to control it, or if Michael had somehow seen what he was trying to do and stopped him despite whatever Charlie was doing to him in there. 

From the small bit Jeremy had heard, it hadn't been good. 

He had tried reaching out to Charlie through his mind, over and over he pleaded with her to listen, to let Michael go, and he prayed to whoever might be listening that Michael would survive whatever she had in store. 

He wished he understood why she had such a strong vendetta against him, but all of those mysteries paled in comparison to the shocking appearance of the Puppet herself. 

She was here…physically. 

How could he be so stupid?? All this time of her just waiting around, making him wait for something, and he never once asked what it was?? 

Can she subconsciously influence me like that? 

This whole time, while Jeremy was talking to the part of her he brought with him, the rest of her had somehow been making her way to them.  

Leading her right to Afton. 

Feeling like he had enough of a head start, Jeremy crouched underneath a stack of crates, wedging himself neatly into one for perfect visual cover. 

He held his breath as the springlock rabbit entered the room and stopped. 

It must have known Jeremy was in there, because instead of continuing down the hall elsewhere, it began kicking at other things in the room, probing around. 

It took everything Jeremy had to not bolt up and run now while he still could. 

He held impossibly still, not even letting himself blink as he kept his eye peering through the slats in the wood. 

The animatronic turned and made its way over to him, a scraping, grating sound coming from it as it moved. 

It released a breath-like sigh surprisingly close, and Jeremy silently clamped a hand over his mouth to muffle his staggering breathing. 

Please, please, please he prayed. 

A light tapping sound came from above him, and Jeremy looked up to see metal fingers wrapping around the edge of the crate, poised to throw it aside, threatening to take Jeremy along with it. 

Jeremy’s mind raced with options, only to draw a blank searching for one that wouldn’t get him immediately killed. 

He found all he could think about was that in the end, he couldn’t do anything for Michael. 

Charlie would probably kill him, like she said she would, and Jeremy was the one who brought her here.  

Michael, I’m so sorry, he thought, as beady, yellow eyes met his through the holes in the wood. 

If only I could have–  

Jeremy’s thoughts were cut off by the jarring sound of childish laughter, bubbling from a nearby room. The audio lure. 

Instantly, the springlock let go of the crate and dashed down the hallway and out of sight. 

Jeremy couldn’t help but sit in awe, heart overflowing with gratitude. 

Michael…Michael was back! 

……………. 

When Michael’s father was first arrested, on suspicion of murder, Michael only had one prevailing objective: prove his father’s innocence. 

He had been so certain there was no way his father had done it. 

Or maybe not ‘certain’, but it was reflexive to come to his father’s defense. 

Looking back on it now, Michael wondered if part of it was because he felt that if his father was innocent, he, in some way, was innocent too. 

Everything in Michael’s life seemed to lead back to that birthday party years ago. 

When the charges were dropped and his father was released, Michael thought everything would go back to the way it was. 

But then his father disappeared, and more murders and missing children cases popped up all across the state. 

Michael chose to work at Freddy’s then, under a pseudonym to not cause a stir, in hopes of finding evidence securing his father’s innocence. 

He had been so desperate to find anything that would clear his father’s name for good. 

But that wasn’t what he found. 

Back then, he’d just wanted answers. He wanted to find his father so he could understand what happened. He probably would have been willing to forgive him if it meant things could go back to normal.  

But by now, Michael knew better. 

He knew what kind of man his father really was, and how naive he had been to not have seen it sooner. 

As he stared into the eyes piercing through the darkness, anxiety swirled nauseatingly in his gut. 

You’ve finally found him, after all this time… 

After encountering the spirits of so many dead children, after narrowly escaping death so many times, after his sister… 

Michael had been through far too much because of this man to even consider forgiving him now. He had intended to be sharp, undaunted, and speak his mind with conviction.  

But all he felt looking into the eyes of the animatronic before him was unadulterated fear. 

The springlock narrowed its eyes at him, it looked like it was grinning with its teeth that stretched all the way back to the hinge of its jaw.  

It opened its mouth to speak, a pungent smell hitting Michael’s nose.  

“MICHAEL...” 

The animatronic twisted his head at an inhuman angle, shaking and shuddering before snapping back in place. 

“I DIDN’T THINK I’D SEE YOU AGAIN.” 

As the animatronic stepped into the office, Michael was assaulted by a familiarly suffocating presence. Any doubt Michael had that this thing really was his father disappeared. He was really here. It was really him. 

“LOOKS LIKE YOU FOUND ME AFTER ALL, JUST LIKE YOU SAID YOU WOULD.” 

He spoke in whispers, but hearing his voice again, gravely and grated as it had become, shook Michael to his core. 

Metal arms opened wide, as if waiting for a hug. It was all too familiar. 

“HAPPY TO SEE ME? SURPRISED? OR ARE YOU STILL…AFRAID!”

He swung an arm into one of the lockers beside him, denting the door, and making Michael flinch. 

His father laughed, and even through all the grinding metal and dust and rot, it sounded the same. It was cruel and mocking, a sound that made Michael curl in on himself a little more. 

When his father removed his arm from the metal, the whole thing toppled forwards and crashed to the ground, making Michael flinch again.  

He advanced slowly, stepping over the fallen locker between them, and Michael began to panic, adrenaline forcing him to speak. 

“Why are you here? How– how did you get like this? What happened??” 

Michael hated how desperate and small his voice sounded, but at least it made his father stop. His father laughed again before pointing a yellowed finger at him.  

“I GOT YOUR MESSAGE. OOOOH, YOU’RE ALWAYS GOOD FOR A LAUGH, AREN’T YOU MICHAEL?” 

He drew himself up to his full height. The dim light from the single lightbulb above cast grotesque shadows across the animatronic features. Michael felt as if his feet were sinking through the floor. 

“NOW…ANSWER ME, MICHAEL. HOW ARE YOU NOT DEAD ?” 

It was said with every indication that he expected otherwise. No… planned otherwise. 

Michael’s body began to respond, his hair standing on end, his legs getting ready to move at a moment’s notice. 

His father rammed an arm through another one of the lockers. 

“ANSWER ME!” 

Michael swallowed. He remembered that night with more clarity than he would like. 

After narrowly escaping his sister for the second time, he had managed to make it back home, not knowing that she was following close behind. 

The things he had uncovered in his father’s private office in Afton Robotics gave him the courage to finally look for answers in the last place he would ever search, his father’s bedroom. 

“I found your tape.” He threw the words out through his closing throat.   

It didn’t answer his father’s question, but it said a lot. 

His father knew just as well as he did what was on that tape. A testament to his father’s true nature, and his most heinous of crimes. 

He had it all there, laid out in the plainest of speech, as if he was talking about taking his kids out for a picnic on a pleasant afternoon. 

It had made Michael’s skin crawl. 

His father sighed, spreading a vile stench through the room. “HOW DISAPPOINTING.”

He stalked back and forth, blocking the door and not giving him an opening. Not that Michael would take it if he had one.  

“BUT ADMIT IT. IT WAS NICE , WASN’T IT, MICHAEL? WASN’T IT NICE TO FIND OUT THAT YOU AND I ARE SO ALIKE?”  

The nauseating feeling burned in Michael’s stomach. 

His father slammed his fist against the desk and the whole thing fell onto its side with a great crash. 

“DID IT MAKE YOU HAPPY TO FIND OUT YOUR FATHER WAS A MURDERER? JUST. LIKE. YOU ?” 

He kicked the table aside with an awful screech of metal. Michael threw his hands up in front of his face, but he wasn’t sure what he was planning to do with them. Protect himself? He just had to wait this out. His father would always get like this, yelling, throwing things around. He just had to wait it out and then his father would calm down, and everything would go back to normal. 

But this wasn’t like those other times. 

Michael took another moment to take in what his father had become. 

He was no longer ‘William Afton’, now he could freely be the monster underneath. 

There was no pretense to keep up this time, he could finally make good on all his threats.  

This William Afton could kill him. 

“YOU KNOW, I AM HAPPY TO SEE YOU, SON…”

The words spread like poison through Michael’s body. 

“I’VE BEEN WAITING A  L O N G  T I M E…” 

With the lightning speed Michael had come to know all too well, his father grabbed his arm and yanked him closer. 

“LOOK AT THIS!” he screamed in Michael’s face. The glowing rabbit eyes stabbed his retinas, and the mouth unhinged, revealing something wet and decayed inside. 

“LOOK AT WHAT YOU DID TO ME! I’M ROTTING AWAY IN THIS SHELL, THIS– PRISON. AND IT’S ALL BECAUSE OF YOU, AND THOSE LITTLE BRATS WHO WOULDN’T STAY DEAD. ” 

His father let go and Michael dropped to the floor and backed up as far as he could, horrified at what he saw. His back hit the wall all too soon. 

His father pulled and clawed at the suit around him, flailing his limbs of flesh and metal.

So that’s how he got like this. It was the spirits of the children that did this to him.  

Michael remembered the footage of his father running from “nothing”. They had killed him once, but he came back, just like they did. 

His father continued to wail in enraged agony. 

“SOMEHOW I AM DEAD BUT ALIVE. AND YOU THINK I DESERVE IT , DON’T YOU?! YOU THINK I DESERVE TO ROT FOR ETERNITY FOR WHAT I’VE DONE?!” 

A limb swung his way and Michael braced himself, but a sharp beeping noise made them both freeze. The room flashed red. 

The ventilation was out. He had to get out of here. 

But his father wouldn't let him leave. 

He was looking down at Michael, smile splitting wide, and when he spoke again, his voice was back to a low rumble. 

“OOOH, BUT WE ARE THE SAME, AREN’T WE? TELL ME MICHAEL, DO WE CLING TO LIFE OR WISH FOR DEATH?” 

Michael’s memory flashed through every deadly night at a haunted Freddy’s and every lonely day spent in his empty house, or an apartment, or a motel room, or the driver’s seat of his car.  

He didn’t want to die, did he? 

“THERE’S NOTHING YOU CAN DO TO FIX WHAT YOU’VE DONE…”

Michael thought of his brother, even his sister. What happened to them, what happened to all those other children. He really is the one who started this all, wasn’t he? This was all his fault. 

“YOU’RE A KILLER LIKE ME, MICHAEL. YOU DESERVE THE SAME PUNISHMENT, AND I AM MORE THAN HAPPY TO DELIVER.” 

A quick blow to the stomach dropped Michael to his knees. Something heavy came down on his back, and he was barely able to catch himself on his forearms to keep his head from slamming into the ground. 

Struggling to push up against the weight, he looked up to see his father towering over him. 

“I’LL GIVE YOU THE DEATH YOU LONG FOR, BUT ONLY AFTER I MAKE YOU BEG TO LIVE.” 

Michael cried out weakly as the air was crushed from his lungs. 

The animatronic foot planted in his back lifted off before stomping down on him again. 

The crushing weight kept pressing and pressing down until…it stopped. 

His father eased off, and Michael tried to take an inconspicuous deep breath while he could. He turned his head up to see his father looking straight ahead at something.  

With a flick of his head, he smiled down at Michael again, eyes bright and hungry. 

“HEAR THAT, MICHAEL?” 

Trying his best to ignore him, Michael tried to wedge his body out from under the heavy metal, earning himself another harsh stomp. 

“SHHHHHH. QUIET…” 

His father’s head tilted to the side, and Michael also strained to listen. 

He couldn’t hear anything at first, but then a faint sound reached his ears, almost indiscernible from the static of the phone speaker. 

“...Michael, are you there?” 

No. 

No no no no, Jeremy!

Michael looked up at his father in horror, who returned another leering smile towards him. 

It made every single one of his hairs stand on end. 

“No…no no no, please–”

“MICHAEL!” his father cut him off, delight coating his gravelly voice. 

“SOUNDS LIKE THE LITTLE FRIEND YOU’VE BEEN HIDING IS GETTING RESTLESS…SHOULD WE PAY HIM A VISIT?” 

With a powerful kick, Michael was sent rolling till his head hit the door frame. 

“OR BETTER YET, I’LL DRAG HIM HERE MYSELF.”   

Michael gasped for air that wasn’t there as he struggled to stand, hands slick against the floor tiles. 

His father was walking away, moving towards the vent. 

His father was going after Jeremy. 

With a burst of renewed strength, Michael threw himself at his father, knocking his feet out from under him. 

They toppled to the ground, but before his father could get his bearings, Michael raised his head up and shouted at the top of his lungs,  

“Jeremy, run!!!”

……………. 

When Jeremy got back to the safety of room 10, he made a beeline for his phone that he’d left on the floor, laying dangerously close to a puddle. 

But just as he reached his hand out to it, a loud bang sounded from the other side. 

Frozen where he knelt, Jeremy listened as the phone speaker continued to crackle with loud crashing and scraping of metal. 

Every now and then Jeremy would hear a shout of surprise, clearly Michael, and indiscernible low grumblings. But the low grating sounds had a cadence to it, like speech. 

So it was true. William Afton really was still in there. Michael was actually talking to him…

The voices went back and forth for a while, but Jeremy couldn't make out any of the words. 

Jeremy was only able to shake himself from his daze when the phone fell silent. 

Hands trembling, Jeremy picked up the phone and brought the receiver to his mouth. 

“Michael?” his voice barely a whisper. This felt dreadfully familiar. 

“Michael please... Michael, are you there?” 

Some shuffling sounds came from the other end, but they were too far away for him to be sure. 

“Mi–” Jeremy was cut off by another crash, so loud that he jumped and almost dropped the phone. 

Then Michael’s voice finally came over the phone

" Jeremy run!! "  

It was so loud, Jeremy could also hear it coming through the vent. 

The jolting scream was followed by even louder crashes and screeches. 

Michael kept screaming incessantly for him to get out of there. 

But he couldn't move. 

Michael was being attacked and Jeremy was frozen in place. He just listened to Michael’s pleading cries. 

He'd never heard him so afraid.  

The call got cut off at some point, but Jeremy could still hear the sounds of loud crashing. The echoes of Michael's screaming stopped.  

That realization was enough to pull Jeremy out of his stupor. He stuffed his phone into his jacket pocket and took off down the hall towards the noises.  

Listen to him, Jeremy. Charlie’s voice sounded from beside him. 

He didn’t care to check and see where she was coming from, but her voice followed him as he sprinted down the halls, miraculously not running into any dead ends this time.  

You should run.  

"I'm not leaving him!" Jeremy responded aloud as the crashing sounds died at his approach.  

There's only so much I can do.  

"Please," Jeremy pleaded to the voice in his head. "Save him!"  

Don't worry, She replied in an unfittingly jovial tone, I can. But you need to leave, or neither of you will make it out of here alive.  

Jeremy skidded to a stop in the hallway just before the office. His breathing was erratic and his vision was blurring. He could feel her continuously urging him to leave. But Michael...  

He peered through the giant glass window, but there was no sign of him. 

The desk was overturned and so were the lockers that once stood at the back of the room. The desk phone had its cords torn out of the wall, and the metal fan was cracked open, the sharp blades missing. 

There was blood on the floor. 

Jeremy whipped his head to the vent entrance inside the office. Is that where they went? 

Jeremy. Charlie persisted. 

No no no, there was no way he was running.

Jeremy, you need to trust me. 

“Trust?!” he yelled, spinning around him to hopefully glare at her from wherever she was speaking from. But then again, she was here physically now. She could be any one of these shadows. 

“ How am I supposed to trust you ?! After what you just pulled??” 

He and I struck a deal. I will not harm him, but he’s sacrificing himself to save you. 

Her last word cut into him like a knife. 

I promised him I would help you, so let me get you out of here safely…and I promise I will bring him back to you. 

Frustration buzzed low and warm under his skin. But what could he do? Charlie, he’d come to learn, was a very powerful spirit. Unlike him, she actually could save his friend from Afton. But apparently Michael had insisted she save Jeremy first. 

Why am I not surprised, Jeremy thought exasperatedly.

Letting out another frustrated shout, Jeremy turned and ran around the corner down the final stretch. As he ran, he could see objects around him moving on their own, dangerous and restricting debris being tossed out of his path to the exit. He made a mental note to thank Charlie later, when he was in a better mood. 

Finally reaching the back door, Jeremy burst out into the cold, December air. 

He kept running; now that he was out of that oppressive building, the fear he’d been holding back revealed itself, powering his legs as he ran up the hill and deep into the forest. 

The shadowy rustling of the aspens both unsettled and comforted him as he ran further into their shelter. 

He ran until his legs gave out under him, and he collapsed into the fallen leaves and first signs of frost. 

Spitting dirt from his lips, Jeremy turned to see the parking lot lamp at a good distance, lightly outlining the looming silhouette of Fazbear’s Fright beside it. 

Completely drained, Jeremy crawled behind one of the larger trees and settled into its crunchy cushion of leaves. 

Jeremy felt a traitorous sting in his eyes that he blamed on the sudden cold. 

He couldn’t believe he left Michael in there, with a serial killer . How dare he wait in anxious safety while Michael was left to fend for himself. 

But he wasn’t fending for himself. Charlie would help him, he had to believe that. 

Pressing his back against the smooth bark of the aspen tree, Jeremy waited.  

……………. 

Michael was eternally grateful for the hours and hours of time he spent pouring over the building map as he moved from room to room without stopping, confident he wouldn’t run into any dead ends. 

But his father never failed to keep up with him, no matter how much Michael tried to take odd twists down the halls or duck into vents. 

Michael knew his father could catch up to him if he wanted to. He was just playing with him. Michael could hear his laughter echoing behind him constantly. 

“ISN’T THIS FUN , MICHAEL?? I HAVEN’T HAD THIS MUCH FUN IN YEARS!”

Yeah, he was enjoying every second of it. 

As Michael reached the opposite end of the building, he was so tempted to run out the front door right then, but he had agreed with Charlie: clear a path for five minutes to get Jeremy out. 

He’d been doing pretty well for himself so far, but should have known this streak wouldn't last long. 

At the end of the last hallway, he turned to double back but froze when he saw his father, something sharp clutched in his hand. 

We found a desk fan! Very old-school. Metal though, so watch the fingers…

Michael ducked as the blade swept through the space above his head; he was certain he could feel it grazing his hair. 

From below, he made another dive for his father’s legs, sending them both to the ground. 

A clang of thin metal gave Michael enough adrenaline to shoot up and search for the dropped blade, but he was beaten to it. 

The glint of a jagged edge was all Michael saw before something sharp and thin caught his cheek and cut down his face. 

He screamed in pain and tried to reach his hands out to block whatever was coming next, but that only resulted in more thin slashes across his fingers. 

Clutching his bleeding hands to his chest, Michael rolled away from his father’s swinging limbs, and they both stood, facing each other as Michael caught his breath. 

“WHAT NOW, MICHAEL?” His father sliced his now bloodied knife through the air. “WILL YOU TURN ME IN?” he wheezed, a mocking waver in his voice. “DON’T PLAY THE HERO, MICHAEL.” His laugh was low and menacing. “DON’T FORGET,” he leveled the blade towards him, “WHERE YOU CAME FROM,” he turned the blade towards himself, “AND WHERE YOU’LL END UP.” 

With a flick of his hand, his father sent the broken piece of metal flying in his direction. 

Instinct completely taking over, Michael dodged, turned, and ran, his father laughing cruelly behind him. 

“NOWHERE TO RUN, MICHAEL!!” came his father’s frenzied voice, drawing closer and closer. 

“YOU CAN’T RUN FROM ME, YOU AND I AR–”

You are not the same. 

The light voice of the Puppet’s spirit pierced through, clear as a bell. 

She appeared in front of him, and Michael stopped just before he could crash into her. 

He blinked and she was gone and when he turned she was behind him, stopping his father in his tracks. 

His father looked from the Puppet, to Michael, then back to the Puppet, before taking a slow step backwards. 

Was his father afraid of her? At the very least he seemed cautious. 

Maybe he’d learned by now not to mess with these angry spirits. 

They stayed like that for longer than Michael would have liked, him and his father facing each other, frozen before the hovering Puppet, who looked almost like she was enjoying herself. 

Afton, I’m more than thrilled to see you again . 

Her eyes flared, a fury in them that made even Michael shrink back a little. 

You have already lost. Spreading more misery will reward you nothing. Everything has already been taken from you. 

The Puppet turned, slightly, just enough to catch Michael in her sight. 

Even him. 

She turned back to his father, rising higher, a light around her growing bright and hot. 

You cannot take back your son. He is no longer yours to claim.

At that, his father let out a furious scream as he lunged towards them. 

His hand was just inches from Michael’s face when something large and heavy fell in front of him, pinning his father under it. 

It was one of the old arcade machines. 

Michael whipped his head around to see the Puppet gesturing towards him, lifting other nearby debris with a wave of her hand, carving a path for Michael to move forward, and blockading the way behind. 

“MIIICCCAAAEEELLL!!!” his father screamed behind him as Michael made his way to the back exit. He could hardly believe he was still alive. His father’s cries grew quieter and quieter as he left him behind. 

I’m never coming back here, Michael thought to himself as he fought to keep his legs moving despite his body threatening to shut down. 

I’m never coming back here! I’m going to run and never come back, he can rot here for all I care! 

But even as he thought it, Michael knew he couldn’t. Abandoning his father here would also mean abandoning the children he promised to save. 

He would be coming back, even if it made him sick just thinking about it. 

He then rounded another corner to see the office and, just past it, the glorious exit. 

But Michael knew he couldn't be that lucky. 

With a roaring screech, his father came flying out of the office vent. Even at his fastest, Michael was a sitting duck compared to the animatronic’s uncanny speed. 

He tried ducking out of the way, but then the Puppet swooped in front of him. 

She raised a hand strung with little white threads, and the building’s haphazard furniture once again sprung to Michael’s rescue. 

His father thrashed wildly, enraged as ever, yet ultimately unable to do anything. 

Michael stared, pausing for just a moment, before continuing down the hallway, his legs almost giving out as he desperately surged toward the outside. 

His father screamed after him, 

“I KNOW YOU’LL BE BACK, MICHAEL…”

Michael threw his weight at the door and stumbled out into the snow, his father’s last words echoing in his ears.  

“YOU ALWAYS COME CRAWLING BACK.”  

……………. 

The loud crunching of leaves indicated heavy footsteps and Jeremy whirled around to the sound. 

A figure was stumbling towards him in the dark, with hands half folded and a heavy limp. 

Jeremy ran out from his hiding place. 

“Michael!!” Jeremy called, running towards his friend. Charlie kept her promise. 

Michael stopped just a few feet away. Jeremy couldn’t see his face, but his body didn’t look like it was in good shape. 

Just as he reached him, Michael fell forward and Jeremy caught him, guiding them gently to the ground. Jeremy’s hands came away splotched with something wet and dark. 

“Michael, you’re bleeding..”

Of course he knows he’s bleeding, genius, way to state the obvious! Useless, useless! 

Jeremy scrambled to grasp at Michael’s hands, turning them over to see them covered in thin cuts, seeping red. 

Michael risked his life for you, and you just sat here being useless! 

“There’s blood everywhere!” Jeremy let go of Michael briefly to shrug off his coat and wrap it around Michael’s trembling hands . 

Once he got that as secure as he could, Jeremy shifted Michael from side to side, checking his legs, his torso, his arms, his head. 

“Michael, let me see your face.” 

Michael had yet to meet his eyes, and Jeremy had a horrible feeling the other man was trying to hide the worst of it. 

When Michael made no move to comply, Jeremy gently took Michael’s face in his hands and lifted him up, determined to suppress any reaction for Michael’s sake. 

But he couldn’t stop the small gasp that escaped him as Jeremy’s eyes caught on blood trickling from a long cut going down the side of Michael’s face, a stark red against the more muted colors of bruises just beginning to form beneath it. 

“Oh, Michael…” 

Michael lamely pushed Jeremy’s hands away and let his head hang again, hiding his face behind his hair. 

“Jeremy…” his voice sounded so small, “the day shift…” 

Jeremy checked his watch and saw that it was just a minute before 6. The girls should already be in the parking lot by now.  

“He won’t hurt them, will he?” but even as he asked, Jeremy knew it wasn’t Afton that Michael was worried about.  

“No, he won’t.” he stated firmly “But, he made a mess, I have to… They’ll see…”

Jeremy nodded, remembering the state the office had been left in. The blood on the floor. 

“I’ll go take care of it.” 

He stood up and gave Michael his best reassuring look. Michael wasn’t even looking at him. 

“I’ll be right back, you just stay here! I’m just gonna go– uh, deal with them somehow. Don’t even worry about it, just leave it to me!” 

Jeremy headed down the frosty hill as quickly as he safely could and caught the girls just as Erin had her hand on the door. 

“Erin, Valerie, hey!!” he called out, running over to them. 

Jeremy made something up about a localized earthquake that occurred that morning, and “Gabriel” getting injured to account for Michael having left his shift early. 

He followed the girls as they made their way to the back of the building, helping move debris caused by both the Puppet and the Springlock animatronic. 

The Springlock animatronic who is actually William Afton, Jeremy reminded himself. 

As Erin and Valerie struggled to get the office lockers upright again, Jeremy quickly gathered all of Michael’s things, using what was left of his water to wash away the blood. 

It went along great with the other puddles on the floor. Talk about a shock hazard. 

He glanced abysmally at the other groupings of fraying wires, exposed and occasionally sparking. And a fire hazard. 

Jeremy thanked the girls and left quickly, wanting to hurry back to Michael who was still slumped in the snow right where he left him. 

“Can you stand?” 

Michael’s head flopped, which Jeremy assumed was a nod, and he struggled to his feet, difficult with his hands haphazardly tied together with Jeremy’s jacket. 

“Once we get back, I’ll figure out how to actually bandage your hands.”

“I know how.” 

“Perfect. Then you can tell me how.”

Michael gave him a look but didn’t say anything. He just took a deep breath and leaned more on Jeremy as they limped down the snowy hill to the parking lot. 

As Jeremy finished buckling Michael into the passenger’s seat, he saw Charlie’s reflection in the window. He paid her no mind, but her voice whispered in his head, in a disturbingly cheery tone. 

Be ready. Tomorrow’s the big day.

Chapter Text

“You know, you can tell me if it hurts.”
“It doesn't hurt.” 

“Uh huh…”

“Ow! Hey, not so tight.” 

Jeremy snickered at Michael’s weak glare. 

“Yes, ma’am,” Jeremy assured, easing up the tension in the bandage as he worked it around one of Michael’s hands.  

Michael shifted uncomfortably in his spot on Jeremy’s bed, knocking Jeremy’s knee. 

Michael muttered an apology and Jeremy wondered why he bothered moving from the bed to the armchair when he was going to pull it up this close anyway. 

The window’s blinds were closed, but the curtains were left open, allowing some streams of sunlight into the room. 

Michael had carefully walked Jeremy through how to bandage his hand in a way that maintained its mobility. 

Jeremy was a quick learner, skillfully copying his work on Michael’s other hand. 

But no longer needing instruction left a silence that Jeremy was desperate to break; he just didn’t know how. 

"Yeah...so." he began weakly. 

"So." Michael responded quickly, but his tone lacked engagement. 

A little offended, Jeremy decided to jump the gun and go straight to the most dire topic at hand. 

"We've found our killer...never would've thought we'd find him like this..." 

Michael made a sour face, but didn’t comment, so Jeremy pressed on. 

"What do we even do? I thought when we found him he'd be, ya know, a person? Someone we could get arrested?" 

Michael absentmindedly flexed some of his fingers. Jeremy was about to scold him for moving them while he worked, but Michael spoke first. 

“It wouldn’t have been that easy anyway.” 

And that was it. Back to silence. He figured that had been the number one thing on Michael’s mind, on both of their minds, the second it became apparent just who that animatronic was. 

William Afton, the murderer they’d been searching for, was already dead. 

Except now he seemed in an almost better position to take more lives, and Jeremy was dreading the reality that he and Michael had to be the ones to do something about it. 

“We’ll have to get rid of him ourselves.” 

Michael, surprisingly, continued Jeremy’s thoughts exactly.  “We can’t let him get away again."

Jeremy didn’t miss the venom seeping into Michael’s voice. It wasn’t just about justice anymore. It sounded personal. 

Jeremy eyed Michael’s new bandages and wondered if those injuries were the only reason. 

“Michael,” Jeremy began carefully, “What happened back there?” 

Michael clenched his jaw, and Jeremy felt the hand in his twitch. 

“He attacked me.” 

Wow. Michael really wasn’t in a talking mood, but Jeremy wasn’t about to back down.  

“After I got back to room 10, I heard crashing sounds over the phone…and I heard you two talking.”

“You–heard?” 

“Yeah,” Jeremy continued smoothly, taking note of Michael’s faraway expression. “But I couldn’t  make out any words… What did he say to you?” 

Michael cleared his throat and looked away. “Uh, just threats. ‘I’m gonna kill you’, stuff like that.”

Michael was definitely glossing over a lot of it, but Jeremy wasn’t sure if it was just to make him feel better, or to hide something else. 

Jeremy figured at this point that either option would be pretty on par for Michael. 

Still, despite how nonchalant Michael was acting now, Jeremy would never forget the sound of his terrified screams as he begged Jeremy to run and leave him behind. 

And then, Jeremy did leave him behind. Even though they both made it out of there alive, Jeremy wasn’t sure if that decision would ever sit right with him. 

Jeremy finished off the last bandage with a small strip of med-tape and gave Michael’s hand a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry you had to face him alone.”

Michael offered him a rather depressing shrug. “Eh, I’m used to it.”  

Jeremy hummed, thinking of how well Michael had handled murderous animatronics at the last Faz-location.

“Yeah, I guess you're the veteran at dealing with killer animatronics.”

Jeremy looked from their hands to Michael’s eyes and for a brief second, something flashed in them. An emotion Jeremy couldn’t quite understand. But then it was gone so quickly Jeremy thought he must have imagined it. 

Michael offered a short laugh. “Yeah…animatronics…”  he said, pulling back his hand and inspecting Jeremy’s work. 

“Eh, anyway, I’m only a little banged up. I know how to dodge a few swings. He mostly made a mess of the place.” 

Michael rubbed at the bandages over his knuckles, giving Jeremy a cocky wink. “Got in a couple good swings too, if I do say so myself,” 

Jeremy’s jaw dropped. “Don’t tell me you actually tried to fight that thing. Why didn’t you just run?” 

Michael shrugged again, like it was normal to duke it out with robotic serial killers, but the look he gave Jeremy was sincere.

“I couldn’t let him get to you.” 

Jeremy’s eyes widened as he put the pieces together of what must have happened. 

“He started threatening you,” Michael continued to explain, glancing up before giving Jeremy a sheepish smile and a shrug of his shoulders. “And I guess I didn’t feel like being a punching bag anymore.” 

Jeremy felt a warm squeeze in the pit of his stomach. Michael could be really unbelievable sometimes. 

Jeremy could only stare blankly at him, wondering how on earth someone as dependable and selfless as Michael ended up even caring about someone like him. 

Sure, he’d been doing a lot to further their investigation, but Jeremy couldn’t help but feel that all this time he’d only been a burden to Michael. 

Always having to cater to his condition, changing plans, saving him from life-threatening situations Jeremy got them both into. 

In fact, all Michael did every night at Fazbear Frights was protect him , and Jeremy felt like he wasn’t giving much in return.   

Jeremy’s stare dropped again to Michael’s bandaged hands, and he could only ask, “Why?” 

Michael smiled with a sigh that could have been a laugh, as if the answer was so obvious Jeremy should know. 

“Because you’re my friend?” 

Jeremy responded only with a disgruntled snort and returned his attention to Michael’s injured hands, fingers lightly stroking the white cloth wound around them. 

The thin fabric hid the long cuts that had bled so much just a few hours before, but the image of bloodstained snow clung to the forefront of his mind. 

He looked up at the long cut down Michael’s cheek. It had stopped bleeding a while ago and it wasn’t deep enough to cause any major damage, but Jeremy couldn’t stand looking at it. 

What made him worth that?  

“You’re my friend,” Michael repeated, perhaps having followed his gaze and sensing Jeremy’s guilt. “I won’t let anything happen to you. Not if I can do something about it.”

He remembered the way Michael collapsed, exhausted, into his arms. He thought of how terrifying all this must have been for him. 

And still he put Jeremy first.  

Moving before he had the chance to second guess himself, Jeremy took both of Michael’s hands in his and tried to put every ounce of his sincerity into his voice. 

“You’re my friend too, Michael, and I don’t want anything to happen to you either.” 

Fueled by the truth of his own words, Jeremy couldn’t keep a stern tone from leaking into his voice. 

“So, thank you for saving me, but cut the self-sacrificial crap, okay?” 

Michael looked down at their hands, then up at Jeremy, leaned back and laughed. 

Jeremy blinked in surprise. Michael was actually laughing, fully, so much he let go and rubbed tears from his eyes. 

“I’m sorry to tell you this Jer,” Michael struggled to rein in his laughter, the nickname once again rolling smoothly off his tongue, “But I don’t think I could help it if I tried.” 

Another laugh, then, “And quit blaming yourself, okay? None of this is your fault.” 

“Charlie told me to leave you behind, and I listened to her! If I’d stayed and helped, maybe–” Jeremy’s eyes drifted to the bathroom where the sink and floor were now splattered with Michael’s blood. 

“Maybe…I just– I shouldn’t have–”

“Hey,” Michael cut in with a hand on Jeremy’s shoulder, waiting until Jeremy dragged his gaze up to meet his. 

Michael’s eyes were serious for a moment before he cracked a small smile, expression morphing into something almost playful. 

“Technically, I asked her to do that, sooo, I’m not really complaining about the way things turned out.” 

Jeremy rolled his eyes and pushed him off, but immediately surged forward when Michael’s self-satisfied grin turned into a pained grimace. 

“Woah, Michael, what’s–?”

“It’s nothing!” he said a little too quickly, lightly slapping Jeremy’s concerned hands away. “I probably just pulled something earlier.” 

He rolled the shoulder Jeremy hit, plastering a small smile back onto his face. It was way too performative. 

“Michael, take off your shirt.” 

Michael froze, his arm still poised up mid-stretch rather comedically. Jeremy would have laughed if he was in the mood for jokes. 

“H-huh?”

“Take off your shirt.” he repeated firmly. 

“Jeremy, really, I’m okay. I just need to–” 

“Michael Schmidt, take it off now.” 

Jeremy must have made his seriousness abundantly clear, because Michael’s nonchalance slowly melted away, replaced by a sombreness Jeremy wasn’t ready for. 

“What if it’s… really messed up?” 

“Then I’ll do what I can to help you…Just let me make sure you’re okay.” 

“... There’s old stuff too–” 

“I won’t ask.” 

Michael seemed taken aback by Jeremy’s quick rebuttal. In response, Jeremy just gestured for Michael to get on with it. He figured the more he treated it like business, the less uncomfortable Michael would feel. 

He kept his mouth shut as Michael undid each button of his uniform and slid the sleeves off his arms. 

He didn’t make a sound when he was met with a plethora of forming bruises flowering across Michael’s chest, shoulders, and back. 

He didn’t say a word as he wet spare towels in the coldest water he could to press against the bruised areas, cleaning little cuts in places where the skin had broken open. 

He didn’t mention the scars that clearly made their mark on him long ago. 

Still, Jeremy made a mental note of each: 

One at the base of his neck, just above his spine. 

One across his right shoulder, with ugly, jagged edges. 

Another, splayed across his lower abdomen. 

And a final one across his left side, an oddly smooth looking gash. 

Jeremy would have thought they were clear consequences of going toe to toe with deadly, haunted animatronics on a daily basis, but that didn’t seem right. Michael wouldn’t have looked so hesitant if that’s all they were. 

Whatever these scars were from, they were deeply personal. And though he desperately wanted to pry, to satiate his hungry curiosity, this was a boundary he knew he shouldn’t cross. 

Michael stayed quiet too, though after a while, the tension in the room lessened, and as the morning light settled into a snowy afternoon sun, the air could only be described as peaceful. 

“Should I go get us something to eat?” Jeremy asked as he helped Michael slip into a loose t-shirt. He didn’t think he’d ever seen him dressed this…casually. 

The shirt was hilariously big, the end of the sleeves reaching Michael’s elbows, making him look like a little kid. 

It was kind of adorable, but Jeremy would never say as much. 

“Nah-” Michael said with a yawn. “Sleep first.” 

“You haven’t eaten anything all day,” Jeremy argued back as he walked to the bathroom to dump the last blood-spotted rag to soak in the tub. “You’ll feel a lot better if you–”

Jeremy rounded the corner to find Michael already asleep on the floor. 

“Hey, Michael!” He lightly shook the man, but dropped his volume a little. “At least sleep up on the bed!” 

Michael just grumbled in reply and adjusted his legs splayed out behind him before settling again with a deep and definitive sigh. 

Jeremy huffed and spent a second or two gauging how difficult it would be to heave Michael up onto the bed himself. 

In the end, he settled for tucking his pillow under Michael’s head and throwing one of his extra blankets over him. 

He tried not to think about how little help he had actually been, and how fatigued Michael would still be after these few hours of sleep before midnight.

He wanted to do more. 

For all the things Michael had done for him, Jeremy couldn’t seem to pay it back. 

Jeremy watched the slow rise and fall of Michael’s chest under his blanket. 

He wanted to do more. 

…………….

Michael Afton was fairly certain that driving with Jeremy was one of his new favorite things. 

It didn't matter where they were headed, just being in the car together as scenery rolled by, radio playing quietly and random conversation topics drifting between them, Michael was at his happiest.  

It didn’t matter that they were possibly heading to their deaths right now, when he could crack a lame joke that made Jeremy laugh, all that danger he was driving them towards seemed miles and miles away. 

This ride, so far, had been quiet though, and Michael was content with that. 

Expertly keeping the wheel straight with one knee, Michael unwrapped another piece of gum for himself, checking in his periphery to make sure Jeremy wasn’t witnessing more of his reckless driving. 

The other man wasn’t even looking his direction, head completely turned out the passenger window. 

Michael sighed happily to himself. There was a new ease in sitting in silence together that one of them, usually Jeremy, would eventually break with a throwaway comment that would somehow become a full conversation. 

“Hey, when this is over, what will we do?” 

Or, sometimes Jeremy would drop a super serious question out of the blue like that. 

Caught off guard, Michael stayed silent for a while. They hadn’t really talked about it, and a growing sense of guilt encroached his thoughts, worried Jeremy would resent him for not bringing it up first.  

So instead of answering, Michael kept his eyes forward, vision drifting between trees and rocks that he was starting to feel like he’d seen a million times.  

Truth be told, he hoped Jeremy would stick with him wherever he’d go next, and ignored the nagging reminder that that was perhaps a bit more unrealistic than he’d like to imagine. 

His father had been found, the mystery was solved, Jeremy didn’t really have a reason to stay. 

But there’s nowhere else for him to go either, right? Michael thought to himself hopefully before realizing how horribly selfish that sounded. 

But this was exactly why Michael hadn’t brought it up yet, afraid of what the other man would say. Worried that the nagging reminder of reality was right. 

Forcing his fingers to stop their drumming against the wheel, Michael cleared his throat and finally answered. 

“I mean, you can do whatever you want, I won’t stop you.” 

“Well,” Jeremy shifted in his periphery. “What do you want to do, what’s your plan for Jeremy when you’ve finished using him?” 

Michael’s heart stopped. What did he say?? 

Jeremy giggled. “I’m kidding. I know you care more for Jeremy than you can admit.” 

Michael’s eyes darted from the rearview mirror to the repetitive trees outside of his window. 

Oh, so that’s what was happening. 

Trying to be quick on the uptake, Michael showed as little reaction as possible, and kept his eyes fixed on the road. 

The Jeremy beside him leaned further into the edge of his view, but it wasn’t Jeremy anymore. 

Hello, Michael. It’s me, Charlie.

“Hello, Charlie”, Michael sighed. He tried not to show any emotion, but he couldn’t keep from gripping the steering wheel just a little bit tighter.

Why the long face? Did I interrupt something?

She giggled, and Michael realized he was getting real sick of the sound of ominous, child-like laughter.  

Finally, Michael turned to look at her. She stared back, black holes for eyes and tear-streaks down her face. She blinked and smiled. 

Turning back to the road, Michael slowly lifted his hands from the steering wheel, and the car continued its course through the looping countryside. 

This was a dream. 

Don’t worry, Jeremy’s not here. We can talk all you want about yourself, your father, your brother, and your companion will still be none the wiser.

“I hate you.” he said instead of something productive. 

He hated lying to Jeremy enough as it is, he didn’t need some creepy ghost girl guilt tripping him about it. 

Now now, Charlie leaned further across her seat, moving into Michael’s space, glaring with some of the venom he remembered from the rocky start of their last encounter. 

That’s no way to talk to someone who’s just saved your life. 

Biting the inside of his cheek, Michael kept his eyes firmly forward and leaned away from her. 

“I appreciate what you’ve done for me, but please, get out of my head, I don’t want you here.” 

I invite you to try to stop me, Michael.

Michael immediately backpedaled, abandoning his annoyed expression. He didn’t want to make her actually angry. 

Again, if you’re worried about what I might find up here, anything you’re trying to hide, I already know. 

Michael swallowed but realized she was right. If he learned anything from their conversation last night, it was that this spirit was definitely in the know about anything Michael was concerned about Jeremy knowing in particular. 

Charlie simply waved her hand, as if she definitely wasn’t interested in arguing that point. 

“You’re here for something else.” 

She leveled him with a serious stare.

I’m here to warn you. Warn you about what’s going to take place tonight. Guiding souls is not an easy task, nor a simple one.

Michael remembered her words from last night, 

You are sure you want him to do this for you?

I’m telling you now because my plan requires something of you both that you may not like…particularly in Jeremy’s case.   

“What??” Michael cut in, forgetting he was trying to be polite. “Why, what do you plan to do with Jeremy?” 

She held up a hand to silence him. At least one of them remembered to be civil. 

Michael Afton, willing as you may be, this is a task that you cannot do alone. Accomplishing this requires something of you both, but the path to get there is…unpleasant. 

Michael opened his mouth, but Charlie continued before he could ask. 

But know that your greatest threat, Afton, will not interfere. You do this for me, and I will keep him away for one night. From him, at least, you will be safe. 

Michael’s words stuck in his throat at that. Safe? From his father? 

Michael reached a hand up and brushed his fingers across his cheek. It was smooth. 

He looked down at his hands …normal…but he knew how they would look when he woke up. 

His brain supplied him with a fresh dose of last shift’s memories, as if pleading with him to reconsider his decision to go back. 

He looked again at Charlie. 

She was sitting with her hands lightly gripping her seat, legs swinging playfully over the edge. 

She just looked like a little girl, though Michael knew she wasn’t. She hadn’t been just a little girl in a long time. 

“I’m sorry,” he blurted past the thickness in his throat. 

Charlie inclined her head. 

To me? What for?  

“I’m sorry…for what he did to you. I’m sorry for all the pain he caused, and that because of him things are the way they are now…” He lowered his gaze.  

Charlie didn’t say anything at first, just shook her head and rose from her seat, floating through the windshield and settling down on the hood of his car, facing him. 

Michael Afton, while you have your own actions to be sorry for, you need not apologize for the actions of your father. I see that now. 

Then, perhaps knowing his thoughts from earlier, added:

Do you remember me as I was Michael? Remember me from a time long ago? A time when he was stronger than me? 

He looked up at her at that. She was smiling. 

That time has long since passed. 

And in that moment, Michael remembered. 

He remembered that he could rely on her. 

He had trusted her with Jeremy before, he could do it again. 

I leave the children to you…leave Afton to me. 

Michael thought about facing his father again, hearing that horrible, grating laugh, and the cuts and bruises he’d wake up to. 

But Charlie was stronger. 

He clung to that thought as he nodded. 

“Okay, I guess…I guess that’s more than I could ask for.”  

Michael met her eyes and did what he could to give her a grateful smile. It felt woefully insufficient. 

He really needed to get better at this. How often did he thank people? 

Maybe he just hadn’t had much to thank people for. He supposed that had changed a lot the past few weeks. 

“Tell me what I have to do.” 

……………. 

After making sure Michael was comfortably asleep, Jeremy rushed to open the room’s small closet where he’d wedged in a large box the day before. 

Stepping around where Michael was sprawled on the floor and bringing the box to his bed, Jeremy dug out the items he’d been long awaiting to review. 

Of all the items he’d taken from William Afton’s car, there were three that were quite promising: a book, a map, and a tape player. 

The book was The Juniper Tree which he’d looked at earlier and found the disturbing drawing inside, as well as the picture of the Afton children. 

The map was just of various marked locations, most of them Fazbear, or other restaurants he assumed were once Faz-locations, but others were houses marked in various neighborhoods that Jeremy definitely had to look into later.

And the tape player, which Jeremy was definitely reaching for first. 

Only one cassette was labeled with a date, so Jeremy started there. 

“I have left everything behind.” 

Jeremy was almost startled by how normal the voice sounded. A little scratchy and gravely maybe, but he really sounded like…just a person. 

“I was released today.” A dark chuckle. “Dropped charges due to lack of evidence.” The low chuckle escalated to a scratchy laugh. When the laughter subsided, his next words came with a child-like melody. 

“They never found the bodies~” 

And then his voice dropped back to its usual drone, talking about the road he was taking and how terrible the weather was for driving. 

As he listened, it began to be very clear to Jeremy that, other than being an unfortunate insight into a killer’s diary, Afton was still being surprisingly vague about where he was going. 

Almost as if he expected these to be found. 

With that thought in mind, the more he listened, the more Jeremy realized that that definitely was the case. 

He kept saying “you”, as if he was talking to someone. 

“I know what you must be thinking, and no, I don’t plan on stopping. If anything, hitting the road like this will–”

Jeremy hit pause. There was a rustle of blankets coming from below him. Michael was stirring. 

Leaning over the edge of the bed, Jeremy peered into Michael’s sleeping face. 

His brow was heavily furrowed, his mouth screwed up into a tight frown. 

Jeremy frowned as well. He’d been around Michael when the man was asleep before; Michael could sleep through at least seven natural disasters. 

But here he was, tossing and turning, his breaths coming short and quick, though he was beginning to settle now that Jeremy had paused the recording.

Supposing he should feel guilty for making too much noise, Jeremy scooped up the player and tapes, and tiptoed over Michael into the bathroom. 

After making sure Michael was, once again, fast asleep, Jeremy gently closed the bathroom door, locking it for good measure; then, sitting on the floor, resumed the tape. 

“--only make things easier for me.” 

The sweet tone his voice took on was everything but. It was sinister and mocking; it made Jeremy’s stomach churn. 

“You know what? I don’t think I’ve been this happy in a long time…This is an exciting new chapter we’re starting, and I think you’ll be surprised by what’s coming. Oh, you’ll be so thrilled.” 

The tape cut off in the middle of his self-satisfied chuckling. 

Jeremy yanked out the finished tape and hastily inserted a new one. 

In every tape, Afton only gave the time, no date, and only ever seemed to record while he was driving. 

Jeremy realized he was grateful for that, he wasn’t sure he could handle it if William Afton ever decided to take his tape recorder to “work.”  

“Recently I haven’t needed to work at a Freddy’s to find what I’m looking for, but there’s something about working there that just feels like coming home. They’re all beginning to close though, one by one, they’re dropping like flies. Could that be…because of me?” 

Jeremy shuddered at the subtle delight coating his tone. Though it still sounded light hearted, Jeremy wasn’t sure if he could stand to hear that voice anymore. 

As he went along, taking notes on anything he deemed important, Jeremy realized that maybe he didn’t really have to. 

They had found him after all. 

Jeremy wasn’t using these tapes to try to find out where Afton went…all this did was give him more insight into the killer in question. 

For the sole purpose of satiating his curiosity. 

As that day’s entry ended and the next one began, Jeremy realized that maybe there was one mystery these tapes could help solve. 

  “I got your message, son.” 

It was the way he said ‘son’ and Jeremy knew immediately who he was talking about, an image of a scraped up face in a family photo flashing in his mind. 

“You say you’re going to ‘come find me’, HA!”

A loud slam almost blew out the audio, but it quieted to the backdrop of his ridiculing laughter. 

“I don’t know how you managed to find me, but I won’t be here for long…and neither will you.” 

Jeremy’s stomach dropped as it dawned on him what event this message was preceding. 

Afton’s eldest son must have sent him a message when he figured out what was really going on at Afton Robotics. Maybe he’d even put together more than that.

But did that mean he survived whatever had killed the other workers that night? 

Was the report of his death just to cover up his disappearance?

Heart thumping in his ears, Jeremy hit play again, listening intently. 

“I don’t know how you managed to escape the facility alive, but I know she won’t stop hunting you. She won’t disappoint me.”  

A long pause, and then, 

“This will be the last one, seeing as it will soon be impossible for you to ever find these…there’s no point anymore.” 

A sigh, one that somehow sounded genuinely melancholic. 

“I really wish it didn’t have to be this way, really I do, but you–” another sigh, “You know you deserve it. You have deserved all the pain you have suffered, and are going to suffer. But know that I will always mourn your death, my son, knowing that I couldn’t be the one to deliver it.” 

Jeremy switched the tape player off and kicked it across the room, as if that final looming threat was somehow directed at him. 

There were goosebumps all over his skin, and he almost felt out of breath with the way he was gulping down big mouthfuls of air. 

That was…scary. That’s all he could think to describe it. Jeremy truly felt…frightened, just from a recording. 

Jeremy shuddered, for maybe the millionth time that night, thinking of how the eldest son had to live alone with this man. Such a sick, twisted, sadistic man. 

A man who was now a much bigger problem than they had bargained for. 

Jeremy remembered the image of the rotting rabbit suit. Michael had had to face that alone too. 

Jeremy knew now more than ever that he would never let that happen again. 

It gets boring up here when you spend all your time thinking about one person.  

Jeremy jumped, but then was surprised by how startled he was. He thought he would have been used to Charlie speaking in his head by now, but she usually didn’t show up unprompted. 

Charlie’s ghostly face peered down at him from the mirror above the sink. 

It’s better here than in your friend’s head though, you’re all he thinks about too, you know.

Jeremy felt his face flush at that, and he tried his best to cover up his embarrassment. 

“That’s–that’s just because we’re working together. We’re around each other all the time and…wait…” 

Jeremy slowly turned his head to level an intense glare at her. Well, he hoped it was a strong glare.   

“And what were you doing there, I wonder? You just couldn't leave him alone after your conversation last night, right?” 

Technically, that was this morning. 

“Whatever.” Jeremy sighed, emphasizing with a shake of his head. “You can’t just do that, Charlie! What do you want with him?!” 

Charlie seemed taken aback by Jeremy’s sudden outburst. 

Jeremy, I no longer intend to do him any harm, if that’s what you’re worried about. I need to be with him to ensure he can complete the task he has promised to see through.

“He can already make contact with the children’s souls without your help.” 

Charlie heaved a sigh and Jeremy began to feel at least a little guilty for being so skeptical. 

He trusted Charlie, he really did. He wasn’t even sure why Charlie invading Michael’s head the way she was invading his bothered him so much, it just did. 

While I admit I do not know how he is able to do so, this time is different. We’re talking about transporting souls between planes, Jeremy, and though you may think highly of him, that’s not something your friend can do. 

Jeremy shifted from his sitting position to his knees, ignoring their dull ache as his body subtly reminded him that perhaps he had overdone it with all the running he’d done earlier.  

“But, the children still asked him to…” 

Charlie nodded. A symbolic gesture. I understand their request. While they are asking a lot, he can still accomplish it, with my help…and yours. 

That got Jeremy’s gears turning. 

He’d realized a while ago that he and Michael had both been involved in gathering the children for this…birthday party. 

Even though Michael had technically been the one to officially agree to the role, it made sense that it was something they had to do together. 

“Is that why you chose to save me? You knew you’d need me for this, so after my- my accident…” 

Jeremy didn’t want to finish, but he didn’t have to as Charlie shook her head vigorously, cutting him off. 

This is not the outcome I expected, nor planned on. And while I admit there were reasons for saving you that benefited only me, I really did want to save you. 

Though he didn’t let it show, Jeremy’s heart was warmed by the sentiment. Though, he supposed she probably knew anyway. 

You were so dedicated to uncovering the truth of what happened and finding Afton, so while I knew I could use that to help me get here, I also believed you deserved to be saved. Which…is actually what I came to you to talk about, Jeremy. 

Charlie’s tone grew more somber and serious, and Jeremy slowly rose to his feet facing the mirror directly. 

Though her eyes were a pair of empty black holes, he felt like she was actively avoiding his gaze, her image shifting and squirming in the mirror. 

My spirit has allowed you to recover your physical and mental faculties much sooner than such a brutal injury would normally allow…

Jeremy winced at the words, but continued to listen intently. 

All the while your body has been slowly healing, but it is becoming dependent on my support. If we were to continue on like this for even one more day, when I do leave you eventually, your body will deteriorate, and it is very likely that you will die. 

Jeremy gasped out the breath he’d been holding. 

Die? He would die ? 

He should have expected his miraculous recovery to come at a price, and he supposed that price was simply the realization that Charlie had not completely healed him. 

He was just using her as a crutch, while his body was still healing. 

Millions of questions ran through Jeremy’s head: Why didn’t you tell me this sooner? If I had been more careful, could it have lasted longer? Is there anything we can do now? Is it already too late?  

“Is there any–” he began, hating how fearful he sounded. 

He wanted to just take this new information in stride, as he did everything else. 

But being once again faced with the reality of his mortality, realizing that he never truly escaped the repercussions of his horrific injury, Jeremy’s breath shook and his body shuddered. 

He hung his head over the sink, catching his breath, now unable to meet Charlie’s eyes himself. 

“How much longer do we have?” 

Charlie’s reflection slid down into the small metal ring of the sink’s drain. 

If I leave now,  your body will easily be able to recover from my absence, but…  she tilted her head towards the door. 

Your friend made some promises, ones he cannot keep on his own. He needs you, and you cannot do it without me. 

Jeremy was starting to see the picture she was painting. He swallowed, raising his head to look at his reflection. 

Now all he can think about, looking at his pale, gaunt face, was that he was actually sicker than he thought.   

“And if…we wait till after we free the kids’ souls…will it be too late?” 

Charlie followed him back up to the mirror, placing a hand on the top of his head, as she seemed to like to do. 

...there is still a chance you can survive. Though less certain, not impossible. While there is still a chance your body will pull through, it will be far more difficult if we wait. And your mental state over time…you know things will never return to the way they were–

Jeremy couldn’t hear her anymore. He felt seconds away from his knees giving out from under him, the whole time, his mind repeating: I should have known, I should have known, I should have known. 

How could he have expected anything different? 

Charlie had not yet officially offered him a choice, but would he even take it if she did? 

Could he really tell Charlie to leave now to give his body the best chance at full recovery? Anyone who considered the alternative would be crazy, right? 

No, he couldn’t. He had to see this through. He would be fine, or…he couldn’t afford to think otherwise, not with how important tonight was. 

He wanted to do it, he needed to be there. He couldn’t turn back now, not when they were so close… 

But maybe he was being too hasty. 

He should be more concerned about his physical condition and doing whatever it takes to get better. 

He should consider more what extending Charlie’s stay another day would mean for him. 

But then he thought about what having Charlie leave now would mean for Michael, and suddenly, the choice felt easy. 

“I’ll take that chance.” 

Charlie just nodded solemnly. 

I thought you might. 

Jeremy watched her begin to fade away, wondering if he even fully understood just what he was getting himself into. 

“Wait!...Michael doesn’t know, does he?” 

Charlie gave him a small smile. 

I will leave that to you. 

And with that, she left him alone to stare at himself in the bathroom mirror. He still felt shaky, though he couldn’t be sure it was because of what he’d just heard. 

Even with his mind made up, Jeremy couldn’t shake the feeling that as foreboding as Charlie’s message had been, his worsening condition would be the least of his worries. 

Feeling incredibly deflated, Jeremy returned the boxed items to their corner of the closet and tucked himself back into bed. 

That night, Jeremy dreamt he was a little girl, abandoned outside in the rain. He was taken by a man who bore a face that should have meant safety, and brutally stabbed to death. 

…………….

Michael had a hard time falling back asleep after that. 

Charlie had told him, even if still in incredibly vague terms, what he and Jeremy needed to do tonight, and he wasn’t sure if he could follow through. 

He wasn’t sure if he was willing to risk putting Jeremy through that again. 

He also wasn’t sure if falling asleep again would just send him into another dreamscape where Charlie would be waiting. 

He wasn’t really sure how it worked, but at least it was only temporary. 

Charlie had promised that after tonight, she would leave and not bother him again. 

He wondered if Jeremy saw her every time he slept, or how often they spoke as Michael had caught them doing only twice now. 

Giving up on falling asleep, Michael sat up and looked to the bed across the room, where he could barely make out the edge of the bedframe in the darkness. 

Jeremy had been keeping this a secret from him this whole time... Was it a lack of trust? Or was it just too hard to explain? 

You’re one to talk, Michael thought bitterly at himself. 

Michael sighed and ran a hand through his hair, freezing when Jeremy began to stir.  

His eyes struggled to make out the shifting lump on the bed as he waited for Jeremy to settle back into sleep. But he didn’t. 

In fact, Jeremy’s tossing and turning got worse, unintelligible words muttered through a sleepy haze, but something in his voice put Michael on edge. He slowly began to shift his legs under himself. 

Then a terrified cry broke the silence of their motel room. 

“Stop! No, please, stop !!” 

Michael jumped and took two seconds too long to process what was happening. Jeremy was crying. 

Michael leapt up from the floor, ignoring the thrumming pain in his back and shoulder, scrambling up to the bed where the other man lay thrashing. 

“Jeremy?! Jeremy, hey–” 

Michael fumbled through the darkness looking for the lamp string, but only succeeded in knocking several objects off of the nightstand. 

Not wanting to knock over the lamp next, Michael gave up and dashed to the curtains, flinging them open to let in the moonlight. 

Jeremy let out a strangled cry from behind him and Michael whipped his head around in time to see Jeremy jolt awake, flinging himself upright and sending a cascade of blankets flying from the bed. He caught Michael’s gaze from across the room. 

“Jeremy,” Michael rushed back to the bedside, hands hovering uselessly over the man’s trembling form. 

Jeremy watched his approach with a fearful look, body leaning away ever so slightly before freezing then leaning closer. 

“Jeremy?” Michael asked, tentatively reaching a hand out.  “Are–are you awake?” 

Michael barely had time to jerk backwards as Jeremy’s arms shot out, reaching towards him. 

Jeremy made a little distressed noise in the back of his throat, and Michael slowly leaned forward, letting Jeremy grab the sides of his head. 

Face now sandwiched between Jeremy’s hands, Michael held still as Jeremy’s eyes locked onto his, flicking back and forth between each. 

That alone seemed to calm Jeremy down, so Michael didn’t budge, although he was beginning to feel a little freaked out. 

But he waited, waited until Jeremy’s breathing evened and his muscles relaxed, the bed dipping a little more with the additional weight. 

Finally, Jeremy’s eyes drifted downwards, he almost looked like he was going to fall asleep again, but then his hands tightened around Michael’s face, tugging painfully at his skin. 

“Jeremy,” Michael said again, as placatingly as possible, reaching up to remove Jeremy’s hands. 

“It’s you…” 

He said it so softly, Michael almost didn’t catch it. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m here, it’s me.” He tapped his hands to Jeremy’s, before carefully, lightly gripping them. 

“Jeremy,” he began, trying his best to keep the pain from his voice, “please let go.” 

Jeremy didn’t, but he did let Michael gently pull his hands off his face, letting them rest together on the bed between them. 

“It was just another nightmare.” 

Michael wasn’t sure if Jeremy was actually talking to him, but at least he seemed to remember who they both were. He supposed he had Charlie to thank for that, though he couldn’t help but mentally curse the spirit for not also stopping the nightmares all together. Wasn’t that something she could do? What’s so difficult about stopping a few bad dreams so Jeremy didn’t have to suffer like this?  

But then Michael remembered Charlie could probably hear everything he was thinking and cut those thoughts off immediately, turning his attention back to Jeremy. 

He seemed to have mostly calmed down now. He looked up and Michael stopped the apology before it could leave Jeremy’s lips. 

“Don’t you dare apologize, Fitzgerald. It doesn’t bother me, but if it bothers you that much, I just might go back to sleeping in my car again.” 

The lighthearted threat got a chuckle out of Jeremy and Michael felt more tension leave his shoulders. 

“Well, in that case,” Jeremy said, raising a hand to pat down his bed-messed hair. “Thank you.”

Without even thinking, Michael reached out and smoothed the other side of Jeremy’s hair, his waves looking more like curls after being pressed against his pillow all night. 

“We should, uh, probably get going soon, huh?” 

Michael hadn't even noticed he’d zoned out until Jeremy spoke, and he realized a little too late just how close their faces were. 

Suddenly feeling panicked, Michael shot up and walked across the room, “Well, first you should eat something,” 

In two big steps he reached the small dresser and began rifling through empty grocery bags before turning back to Jeremy, sighing in defeat. 

“I can run and get something, but only if you feel like you’ll be okay here by yourself.” 

Jeremy nodded, which Michael found unconvincing, but Jeremy seemed to read his thoughts because then he added in a firm voice, “I’ll be fine.” 

Michael nodded, already reaching for his keys. 

“I’ll be fast.” 

…

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” 

It was probably the fifth time he’d asked, but he felt horrible for driving Jeremy back to Fazbear Frights after the night he’d just had. 

“You know Michael, I could ask you the same thing.” 

He heard a shuffle, then felt a firm squeeze around his bruised shoulder. He couldn’t stop a small pained gasp from leaving his lips before he clamped his mouth shut, but Jeremy’s point had been made. 

“Jeremy, trust me, this ,” he emphasized with a tilt of his head, “is nothing.” 

“That’s what I’m worried about.” 

“Well stop worrying.” Michael pressed with no real bite to his words. “Besides, if Charlie keeps her word about keeping…keeping Afton away, it shouldn’t be a problem, right?” 

Jeremy sighed, and Michael knew he’d really made him upset now. 

“That’s not what I mean, Michael. This–” he tapped a knuckle to Michael’s shoulder, lightly this time, “--this should not have happened at all.” 

“Jeremy, I don’t know if you noticed, but brutal injury is kind of in the job description. We’ve walked off worse things.” 

Jeremy just slouched back in his seat, arms folding across his chest, lips forming a little pout. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” he muttered. Michael laughed. 

After pulling into the parking lot, they both entered through the back door, and shuffled into the office as if they were preparing themselves for a mundane day at work. It would be anything but. 

Out of pure habit, Michael flipped open the maintenance panel to check on the systems, but stopped when he noticed Jeremy giving him a look. 

“Michael…” Jeremy began, walking over to him and pushing Michael’s hand to close the panel. “we’re going to have to…”

He didn’t finish, but Michael remembered. They wouldn’t be needing it. 

“Right,” Michael swallowed. “She told me.” 

Jeremy nodded, looking more nervous than Michael had ever seen him before. He supposed it made sense, considering what happened last time he was in this office. 

But even considering what happened last time, he looked less nervous than Michael felt he should have been. He was still here. 

“It’s okay,” Jeremy said in a light tone that didn’t reach his eyes. “We’ll be fine.” 

“ ‘We’?” Michael strode to the back of the room and knelt to set his bag down, gesturing with his other hand to his head. 

“ We are not exactly in the same boat, are we?” 

Jeremy frowned and followed him, stopping in front of Michael with his arms folded across his chest. 

“Well then you’ll be fine and you better hope I’ll be fine, cause I’m not going anywhere.” 

Michael would normally have cracked a smile at that, but his nerves only allowed for a slight stretch of his lips. 

He stood up and faced Jeremy who immediately dropped his hands, making Michael wonder what expression he was doing a terrible job of hiding. 

“I know,” Michael said, taking Jeremy’s hands in his just because it felt right. “I’m just worried about you.” 

Jeremy looked down at their hands, and Michael worried for a second that he was making him uncomfortable. 

But just as he was about to let go, Jeremy squeezed tightly instead, and leaned closer with a grim smile. 

“I know.” Then he sank to the floor, pulling Michael down with him. 

“J-Jeremy?” Michael questioned, but didn’t resist as Jeremy tugged them both down to sit on the office floor.

Jeremy didn’t say anything for a while, he just sat there, staring at Michael, looking perfectly content. 

“Well,” Jeremy began slowly, wry humor tingeing his voice, “hey, it’s either this or black out while standing up, and I’m not looking to get another brian injury.”  

Oh, right. Michael was reminded of why they were there, embarrassment siphoning his attention enough to not notice that it was getting harder and harder to get a good breath.

They settled down against the back wall, facing the large window to the empty hallway. 

Michael wished, for the millionth time that night, that there might be some other way to do this.  

Before long, the red light flashed, indicating dangerously low oxygen levels, and Jeremy gripped Michael’s hand tighter. Michael squeezed back as he also struggled to ignore the phantoms creeping at the edges of his vision. 

Jeremy closed his eyes, his breaths coming short and fast, and Michael had half a mind to pick Jeremy up and throw him out into the snow, into safety. 

But he knew the grip Jeremy had on his hand wasn’t just fear, but courage. Jeremy’s quick breaths weren’t a sign of cowardice but determination. And Michael realized that he hardly felt afraid, because of the man beside him. 

Michael’s vision was starting to go in and out, and he could tell Jeremy’s was too as the other man’s head began to dip low and he struggled to keep his eyes open. 

“Hey Michael? It’s–it’s getting kinda hard to…could I–?” 

Michael scooted closer until he and Jeremy’s sides were touching, and slowly Jeremy sank the weight of his head onto Michael’s shoulder, his body huddling against his with a subtle urgency. 

They sat there, side by side, waiting for the oxygen in the room to slowly run out.  Even as Michael also sat gasping for breath, it felt more comfortable than he thought it would. 

Then he felt Jeremy’s hand go slack in his and he couldn’t help the wave of adrenaline that rushed through his oxygen-deprived systems. 

He found himself again questioning if this really was a good idea, and if maybe he should have tried to talk Jeremy out of it. 

But even as he thought it, he knew nothing would have stopped Jeremy, no matter how dangerous this was. That’s just how Jeremy was. 

Michael kept his eyes fixed on Jeremy as his lids grew heavy. 

Maybe, Michael thought as his vision blackened, maybe Jeremy really won’t care who my father is…even if it’s dangerous, maybe he really will stay. 

Clinging to his own wishful thinking, Michael Afton fell asleep.

Chapter Text

His sense of hearing returned first. 

There was a clamber of noise, the voices of a crowd bouncing around the walls of an enclosed space. 

Forcing his eyes open, Jeremy was met with the sight of a small audience: a crowd of children reaching their arms out to the stage before them, big smiles emitting laughter to match their bright, shining eyes. 

But the sound was distorted when it reached his ears. 

As he backed away, hoping to put more distance between himself and the, quite frankly, terrifying children, he noticed there were two other figures on stage with him.  One was the spring bonnie suit, except looking as it must have in its heyday, pristine, and actually child-friendly. And the other was…

“Michael?” 

“Jeremy?” Michael turned towards him, looking about as confused as Jeremy felt. “That’s you, right? You look kinda … fuzzy.”  

Michael reached a hand out to him, but it passed right through, and a jolt of pain shot up Jeremy’s arm and down his spine.  He gasped and pulled away, but immediately wished he’d just swallowed it down when he saw the horrified look on Michael’s face.

But before he could assuage Michael’s guilt, Jeremy lost his footing and stumbled backwards, and Michael disappeared.  Or, maybe he was the one who disappeared.

His surroundings were different…or, more like his surroundings were gone entirely.  The room was now empty, everything around him felt frozen, the air itself was static. 

“Michael?” he called out tentatively, looking around desperately for the other man, but seeing nothing but glitching shapes and colors. 

There were walls around him, but he could see through them to an expansive nothingness. But then something down below caught his eye.  A gray, hazy shadow huddled just outside. A little spirit, crying alone, waiting for someone to find them. 

“Hey!” he called, trying to get their attention. He took a step closer–

“Jeremy, what happened, where did you go??” 

Jeremy blinked and looked up at Michael, who was standing right where he’d last seen him. 

He was back on that stage, with blinding lights and cheering kids. Jeremy whipped his head all around him, but no sign of a crying child anywhere. 

He tried walking to the back wall to see if he could see through it, but each step sent a jolt through his body that made his teeth rattle and his insides twist into knots.  He felt like his body was splitting into pieces, and rearranging itself before crashing back together.  His knees gave out as he reached the wall, and he fell against a solid surface. He couldn't see through it either. 

But he knew the kid was on the other side somehow. Or, on the other side of this wall, just in a different place. Jeremy’s mind was swimming trying to make sense of it. 

Then Michael slid into view, pulling him from the wall and down to his knees to help him catch his breath. 

“Jeremy, stop moving around so much, it looks…painful.” 

“I’m okay,” he brushed off, standing to fill Michael in on what he’d seen just moments ago.  Michael’s eyes looked up to the back wall as Jeremy explained their situation. 

“There’s one more kid? And they’re out there?” Michael asked, pointing at the unassuming wall. 

Jeremy nodded. “How can we get to him?” 

Michael’s eyes darted over to the stage, and he began striding towards the back of it. “I think I may be able to help with that.” 

As Jeremy followed, Michael explained that he’d dreamt this place before, and he was able to get out through the room’s upper left corner.  Michael grabbed onto the end of a piece of rope hanging from one of the stage pulleys. 

“Here, you can use the rigging to–” Michael disappeared. 

Jeremy thrust a hand out, swiping at the rope Michael dropped, but his fingers passed right through it, and the stage was replaced by an unfortunately familiar sight. 

Moonlight streaming through a large window lit up shining pieces of metal scattered across the floor.  A small yet menacing shadow loomed behind him. 

Jeremy ran for his life, evasive movements somewhat practiced from the last time he was put in this nightmarish situation.  But to his horror, he still wasn’t fast enough, probably because he was hobbling on only one leg, and the child chasing him caught up.  An expression of glee frozen on their face, the child tore into him, disassembling the parts he’d worked so hard to put back together.

After two too many excruciating seconds, Jeremy finally escaped the horrid child’s grasp, only thinking of putting as much distance as possible between them.  But then he saw it again. 

A flash of jumbled colors, and a little gray figure huddled just outside the walls. 

But as soon as it was there, it was gone again, and Jeremy crashed onto the wood paneling of the stage.  Luckily, that also meant Michael was back, who was looking more panicked by the second. He ran over to where Jeremy lay gasping on the ground.

“Jeremy, are you okay? What the heck is happening??” 

Jeremy gave himself a second to catch his breath from the terrifying last encounter, but then realized he didn’t have the time to be doing that.  He steeled his nerves and pushed back his shoulders, rising to his feet. 

“Michael, calm down. I found the kid.” 

Getting straight to the point did help reign in Michael’s focus, but Jeremy could hardly get another word out before his scenery changed again. 

The green walls and yellowish light pouring from glass-paned windows were familiar enough, Jeremy didn’t need the wailing, blubbering toddler on all fours in front of him. 

“I remember you,” Jeremy muttered under his breath, as if it were possible for this thing to hear him. At the far end of the room sat a cake on a platform.  The realization hit Jeremy like a slap in the face. 

“Oh, that’s right…” 

He attempted to surge forward, stepping around the tantrum-throwers. Even if he and Michael were able to reach the kid, that wouldn’t be enough. He took another leaping bound forward, arm outstretched, fingers almost reaching the platform. 

“--we need cake!” 

“Jeremy!”

“Michael?” 

“Cake?” 

Michael was back, but they were in a new place, somewhere dark, and rather empty. 

“Yeah, we need...balloon?” Jeremy asked in turn, pointing at the big red balloon tethered to a string in Michael’s hand. 

Michael followed Jeremy’s gaze but then shook his head and leveled an exasperated look at him. 

“Jeremy, what is going on??”

“You think I know??” 

“Well, yeah , probably!” 

Jeremy huffed, but took a good look around. They were still boxed in, and this room had nothing in it, other than a few floating platforms above them. 

“Well I don’t recognize this place, which means you must’ve been here before…Is the uh–” Jeremy pointed towards the left corner of the ceiling. 

“Is the way to get out the same? How did you get up there last time?”  

With a slight frown, Michael pointed straight above his head, and Jeremy followed his finger to the platforms floating several feet up. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” 

Michael just shrugged then got down on one knee, and gestured to his shoulders.  “Alright, you better get a move on.” 

“I–What?” Jeremy blinked at him. 

“C’mon, I’ll give you a boost up!” 

Jeremy opened his mouth to protest, but closed it when he realized he didn’t really have a good reason to. 

Resigning himself to his most likely embarrassing stunt, Jeremy lifted a leg to get up on Michael’s shoulders, but then fell right through and landed on the ground with a hard smack. 

“If that happens to me one more time…”  

Jeremy sat up and looked around. He was back in the glitched space, which meant… 

He swung his head behind him and saw, through the wall, the small child from before.  As if sensing his gaze, the child looked up to meet it, and Jeremy suddenly felt like he had been plunged into 50 feet of water. 

Pressure popped his ears, and pressed down on his head painfully as he was enveloped by the spirit’s powerful presence.  He forced his eyes back open and was met with pinprick, white eyes, eyes overflowing with an overwhelming hatred that made his hair stand on end. 

Pressing against the chilling force, Jeremy tried to stand, but felt his legs give out under him. 

He fell, but then his arms were caught, and he was just barely held up before his knees hit the ground. 

“You okay?” Michael. 

“Y-yeah.” He tried to look back at where the kid was, through the wall ahead of them.  

“Do you still see him?” 

“Yeah.” He allowed Michael to help him to his feet. “Only sometimes though…everything keeps disappearing and reappearing.” 

Michael looked thoughtful for a second, before getting back down on one knee, 

“All the more reason to finish this fast.” 

With surprisingly little difficulty this time, Jeremy climbed up and stood on Michael’s shoulders, and from there was able to grab onto the lowest platform, pull himself up, and drag himself onto the cold, flat surface. 

Catching his breath, Jeremy spun around on his stomach, peering over the edge at Michael who rotated a thumbs up to a thumbs down in question.
Jeremy gave him a thumbs up back before collapsing on his face. 

“You should be able to reach the rest on your own,” Michael called up to him, looking truly pained that he couldn’t do anything but give instruction. “And you should be able to get through the ceiling like I told you before. Just…please be careful.” 

Michael’s voice was so gentle, and Jeremy felt a flutter in the pit of his stomach. He covered it up with a shaky chuckle.

“Please, aren’t I always?” 

Michael barked out a laugh and pointed at Jeremy, then himself. 

“You get the kid, I’ll get the cake.” 

“Sounds like a plan.” 

“Okay, be safe.”

“Be smart.” 

Michael snorted, “Am I ever?” then turned and walked away, disappearing a second later. 

Blowing out a breath, Jeremy surveyed his impending climb, stretching his limbs hoping it would help in some way. Moving at all still proved to be incredibly painful, but with each step he took, Jeremy felt a renewed purpose building in him. He felt like he could finally make the sacrifice for once. 

With one last look at the spot where Michael had just been standing, he began his ascent. 

Every now and then a platform beneath his foot or hand disappeared as Jeremy tumbled back into another space and he’d have to resume his climb a different way, but he began to make quick work of it as he grew accustomed to the glitches. He just hoped Michael wasn’t having too hard of a time under these conditions. 

Reaching the top of the room, Jeremy lifted his hands to the ceiling and, just as Michael had said, they went straight through. 

“Nice,” Jeremy breathed out, grabbing onto the other side and clambering up to the roof. 

As he walked to the edge, peering down, the world shifted again and Jeremy found his prize.  Down below was the small child–he even thought he could hear their crying from this high up. 

Jeremy debated briefly how he should get down carefully, but remembered the dream could change again at any second, and decided to throw caution to the wind. 

“Be safe.” Michael’s last words to him echoed in his mind. 

This was totally safe. 

Sitting down with his legs dangling over the edge, Jeremy took a short moment to gather his courage before pushing off with his arms and slipping into the darkness below. 

Thankfully, Jeremy found himself gliding slowly to the ground, not plummeting to his death, and he breathed a sigh as he sank down as if in water. As he got closer, he could better make out the small spirit huddled there. 

He remembered that presence he felt earlier, and wondered if it would do that again.  Even if this one was sad and crying alone like the others were, there was definitely something different about this one…  

“Hello,” he ventured. “I’m here to–”

The kid looked up at him, his features fuzzy and indiscernible, though Jeremy could make out a clear lack of surprise in his expression. This boy already knew why he was here. 

“You already know about the party… would you like to join us?” 

The boy shook his head. Well that was…unexpected.  Then after a short pause, the boy nodded. Ah. 

“It’s okay,” he said, kneeling down in front of him. “I get it, it can be scary, and you might not feel ready to go yet.” 

The boy twisted his fists into the hem of his shirt and continued to cry. 

“It’s okay if you’re scared, you can be scared, it is scary!” Jeremy leaned closer, trying to catch the boy’s gaze again, hoping to impart courage through it. 

“But you and I meeting here like this means that even if you don’t know what comes next, you’re not happy where you are, are you?” 

The boy’s cries slowed into quiet sniffles as he began to wipe his tears away, looking like he was at least considering Jeremy’s words.  Encouraged that the boy now seemed to be listening, Jeremy pressed. 

“I just think that…letting go, and moving on, would be much better than staying here.” 

The boy still hadn’t budged, he was still in limbo, not quite swayed to either choice yet. Jeremy had to try a new approach. 

“You know Charlie, right?” 

The boy made a face, his mouth pinched and brows scrunched up, but he didn’t answer. 

“Well, she just wants to help you, and I’m helping her make sure we do that.” 

This wasn’t working. For whatever reason, this boy wanted to leave but felt obligated to stay. He had to get to the heart of the matter. 

Jeremy got off his knee and sat down all the way, peering up into the boy's face and softening his tone. 

“I can tell you want to go, but something's stopping you. What is it you’re still worried about?” 

The boy frowned again, staring off into the dark distance. 

“ I’m worried what she will do if I go. ” His voice was soft, as if he was afraid of being overheard, and quivered with every word he spoke. 

“Who? Charlie?” 

The boy shook his head.  Not Charlie? But then who–

Just then, the world around them shook and the surrounding darkness bleached into white. Jeremy’s hair stood on end and he took a moment to consider that maybe the presence he felt earlier didn’t just belong to this boy. 

Jeremy swallowed and tried to shake off the feeling that he was being watched.  “Sometimes…sometimes you just have to do what’s best for you. Even if you're doing it for someone else, always making choices for the sake of others may not be what's best for them either.” 

The boy’s lip wobbled, eyebrows shooting up and his watery eyes growing wide. Jeremy reach out and pat the boy gently on the head. 

“You’ve been suffering a long time, haven’t you? It’s time you get some rest.” 

Jeremy then tried to take the boy’s hand, but the boy pulled away at the last second. 

“ I’m not going! ” 

“But we–” 

“ Not without my brother! ” 

His brother? 

“Your brother?” Jeremy chewed his bottom lip. How was he supposed to get him to come now? He couldn’t leave without him, but this boy seemed adamant, and Jeremy was beginning to sweat, wondering if he could blatantly lie to this kid just to get him to come to his own birthday party. Would he really go that far? 

“He’ll be there!” he said, in the most upbeat voice he could muster. “Come with me, and we can find him together!”   

The boy shook his head. “ He won’t come…He doesn’t like birthday parties. He never celebrates them anymore! ” 

“That’s why we gotta go help him celebrate! He’ll be there, I promise!” Jeremy sure hoped he knew what he was talking about. He knew he should feel bad for essentially lying to the kid, but some part of him felt that for some reason, even if he didn’t know how, he was telling the truth. 

“He’ll be at this one, I promise.”  Jeremy held out his hand for the boy to take. 

“C’mon, let us throw you a birthday party.” 

The boy stared at Jeremy’s hand, looking like he wanted to take it, but there still seemed to be something stopping him.  But then he looked up, and Jeremy got the distinct feeling that the boy was seeing something Jeremy couldn’t. 

More tears welled up in his eyes, and the crying started again. But just as Jeremy was beginning to give up hope of swaying him at all, he felt a little hand grasp his, and the boy faced Jeremy with tears still in his eyes, but a firmness set in his brow. He wished he could see his real face.  

Then the sound of an opening door creaked through the silence. 

Jeremy turned to see a small figure in a puppet mask standing in a doorway, framed with light. 

She nodded at him once then turned to look at the boy, extending her hand. The boy took it, and Jeremy felt the small hand in his squeeze slightly. Squeezing back with gentle reassurance, Jeremy and Charlie led the boy through the door. 

On the other side was Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza, or what at least looked like the party room of one. 

There were tables draped in cheap plastic covers, with balloons attached at the corners.  Kids in party masks were running around laughing, or sitting at tables laden with pizza and cake. Jeremy didn’t recognize any of them. 

Well done. He heard Charlie’s voice in his head. I didn’t think he would come…  Didn’t think he was ready… 

He almost didn’t, Jeremy thought back.  He wants his brother here, but I can’t promise that! I don’t even know who his brother is! What are we supposed to do?? 

Charlie just hummed in a way Jeremy knew meant he wouldn’t be getting a real answer. 

He and Charlie led the boy past all these tables to a longer one in the very back of the room, a small crowd of children in front of it.  A few of these children Jeremy did recognize. 

Though he still couldn’t make out any distinctive features, the ones he remembered bringing cake to were here. They stared expectantly at the boy as Jeremy and Charlie led him to the head of the table. 

The other kids just turned to face them all. Staring. Waiting.  Though not as strong as that presence he felt earlier, the weight of their gaze felt just as oppressive. 

“ Is my brother coming?” the boy asked, tugging at Jeremy’s sleeve. 

“I’m sure–” Jeremy began, but stopped when all the other childrens’ heads suddenly turned behind them, and Jeremy’s attention was dragged to a figure slowly making their way towards them through the crowd. 

The wave of pure relief and joy that rushed through him upon seeing Michael’s face surprised him, but Jeremy didn’t mind as he felt some invisible weight lift off his shoulders with every step Michael drew closer. 

“There,” Michael said, setting the heavy plate down in the center of the table. “Piece of cake,” he said with a wink, and Jeremy would have rolled his eyes if he wasn’t so overwhelmingly glad to see him. 

The little boy holding his hand looked up upon Michael’s arrival, and as he did, one of the cake’s candles flickered to life, lighting up the boy’s face.  Jeremy gasped as he realized, in the dim firelight, he could see the spirit’s real face.  

He was, in fact, a boy, tiny compared to his peers, but with the same tears streaming down his cheeks. But as Jeremy got a better look in the candlelight, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. 

Jeremy gawked at a face that was, essentially, a little Michael. 

The boy had the same brown hair and blue eyes, and the same curvy frown. 

Before Jeremy could really wonder what was going on, he heard a thump behind him. He turned to see Michael on his knees, one hand clutching the edge of the table. Michael's breaths started coming quickly, eyes shining, other hand digging into the carpet.  

Jeremy let go of the boy’s hand and moved towards Michael.  What just happened? Did he miss something? But before he could ask the question poised on his lips, the spirit spoke. 

“Mike,” the little boy said, and Michael let out a bitter sob that blurred Jeremy's vision.  

"Evan?" Michael choked out. He moved to inch closer, but seemed to stop himself, settling for just reaching out weakly, as if he wasn’t sure he could touch him. 

But that wasn’t in question for much longer, as the boy ran to Michael and leaped at him, gripping him in a tight hug.  Jeremy backed up as the boy ran by him and stared dumbfounded at Michael who sported an equally shocked expression. 

But Michael didn’t stay frozen for long, shaking his head in disbelief before wrapping his arms back around the boy. 

“Ev, why are you here??” Michael cried over the boy’s shoulder. “You’re supposed to be far away from all this!” 

The boy’s grip around Michael tightened. “ I wasn’t ready to go yet. ” 

“Have you been here this whole time??” Michael was near hysterical, and as much as Jeremy wanted to step in and help, he knew this interaction should not be intruded on. 

“ I wanted to help ,” the boy whimpered, fresh tears falling onto Michael’s shirt but not dampening the fabric. “ I’m sorry I haven’t been able to make much of a difference.” 

Michael sounded on the verge of hyperventilating, but his voice came out with the perfect sweetness to soothe a child. 

“No no no, you did good, Ev! You’ve done more than enough!” Michael pulled away to ruffle the boy’s hair.  

“Mom would be so proud of you!" Michael assured him, tears slipping freely down his cheeks.  

Jeremy’s eyes widened at that, and he looked between the two again, with their wavy brown hair and deep blue eyes, with the same cheeks and noses and frown. 

“I think I’m ready,” the boy said, face buried in Michael’s shoulder. “I tried my best to-to help, but I don’t want to live like this anymore… I’m sorry, I can’t stay any longer.” 

A poignant pain gripped Jeremy’s heart as he realized who this boy was. 

He was Michael’s brother. And he was saying goodbye to him one final time. 

Michael pulled away to look at his brother face to face. 

“And you don’t have to, Ev. If you say you’re ready, then I’m gonna get you out of here, okay? You don’t have to–”

“ What happened to you?”  Evan interjected, placing his hand against the cut on Michael’s cheek. 

Michael laughed his surprise away and shrugged, wiping the tears from his eyes, just looking happy to be here with his brother.  “Oh, you know, just dad.”

Looks like Michael wasn’t above lying to kids either. He assumed it was better Evan not know Michael had tangled with Afton, but still Jeremy wondered why their father would be an acceptable answer. 

Michael never talked about his father. 

“ Oh,” Evan said, with his head downturned. “...was it because of me again? " 

Michael’s happy expression shattered and he scooped his brother up in another tight embrace. 

“No– no Ev, it’s not your fault. It was never your fault… I’m so sorry I used to say that it was…” Michael’s lip trembled, and he hung his head. 

Evan reached up and patted his hair in a soothing gesture. “ What’s wrong? ” 

 Michael pulled away from Evan and sat back on his knees, his voice beginning as a whisper, but slowly growing louder as he gained more momentum. 

"Why are you acting like this? After what I did to you?? Why aren't you angry ? Evan, why aren’t you–?! … Don’t you hate me?!" 

Jeremy’s heart plummeted hearing the agony in Michael’s voice, and he wished he understood what he meant.  Evan looked a little caught off guard too, as he also moved back a little, a million thoughts and memories running through his mind. His thinking face looked just like Michael’s; it was uncanny.   

" ...I was angry..for a long time. But it was all taken from me. I don't want to let the bad memories keep hurting me. Now I just want to let go...I don't want to hold onto these things anymore. "  

Michael looked up at that. "And you shouldn't have to! Ev, please, you can let go, leave things here to me."  

Evan sniffled. "You-- you'l l take care of everything when I go? "  

 Michael scrambled back up to his knees, voice beginning to grow hoarse. 

"Yes, yes of course! Of course, you just—you go rest. I'll stay here, I'll take care of everything, don't you worry just...just rest now, okay?”

A movement in the corner of his eye caught Jeremy’s attention. 

Charlie had waved a hand over the cake, lighting a second candle. The flame’s glow revealed more of the spirits, candlelight flickering over familiar masks.  Jeremy watched as one by one around the table, the children removed their masks, and Jeremy could now see the children’s real faces, the faces of real boys and girls who had all met the same horrible fate. 

“Evan…” Michael's voice began, pulling Jeremy’s attention back to the brothers. “Before you go, I need to tell you that I’m sorry…I never got to tell you.” 

Evan frowned. “But you did tell me…back then. You said you were sorry.” 

Michael looked up at him, surprised, and Evan just gave him a small smile. 

“ I could hear you.” 

And just like that, the dam broke.

Jeremy could only watch as Michael’s whole body shook with sobs, fingertips digging painfully into his hairline as he pressed his palms against his eyes.  

When he finally tore his hands away, his eyes were bloodshot and brimming with fresh tears.  

“I’m sorry Evan, I’m so so sorry! I’ll fix this, I promise. I’ll make it right…” 

Evan just nodded, giving his brother’s arm one more firm squeeze. 

“ I know you will.”                                                                         

With a wave of Charlie’s hand the last candle was lit. She turned to the others and said in a kind voice, 

It’s time. Everybody ready? 

The children dropped their masks from their hands onto the floor and nodded. Evan nodded as well before turning towards his brother, arms stretched up towards him. 

It was clear what the boy wanted, but Michael hesitated. Again, it looked almost as if he wasn’t sure he could touch him, if he was allowed to. And something about this demand in particular left Michael looking a little shaken. 

But Evan just stepped closer, looking up at Michael with an adorable pout that finally broke him. 

Michael scooped up his brother in his arms, and lifted him up, the little boy’s face now level with the cake’s highest tier. 

It was a simple scene, a man holding up his little brother so he could blow out his birthday candles. But Jeremy couldn’t help but feel like this gesture meant something more, a puzzle he didn't understand all the pieces to. 

“Make a wish,” Michael said, trying his best to sound cheerful, despite the tears evident in his voice. Evan squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, before opening them and blowing out the candles. 

A gentle gust of wind rushed through the party room like a long, collective sigh.  The children began to rise up, floating into the air with colorful streamers and party balloons, ascending into the sky as the space around them flooded from black to white. 

Evan too was carried up out of his brother’s arms, rising with a balloon of his own, a shining, purple hue. 

Michael watched his brother go and Jeremy watched Michael. Just before Evan disappeared into the sky, his eyes met Jeremy’s, and the boy whispered a small ‘Thank you’ in his mind before disappearing with the last of the rising balloons. 

Well, almost the last. 

Charlie was still here, staring expectantly at Jeremy as Michael stood off to the side rubbing his eyes. Charlie removed her mask, laying it on the floor by the others left behind. 

Thank you Jeremy, for bringing me here… for helping them. For helping me. 

Jeremy gestured to her balloon floating above them.  “Are you following them?” 

No, I am staying here. She tugged on the string of the green balloon with a small pluck. This is simply the part of me that has been with you. It’s time for us to part ways. I am sorry if…if my influence has already ruined you.

Jeremy just shook his head, giving her a little wave. 

“No apologies necessary…Thank you, Charlie, for everything.” 

Charlie smiled and disappeared, and Jeremy watched the last balloon rise up into the void, but before it could disappear from view, it popped. 

Jeremy couldn’t hear the sound from this far away, but he felt the severance in his body, like the pinch of a needle but all over. 

Thankfully the sensation was gone in an instant, and Jeremy tried to cover his discomfort with an empty cough. 

She didn’t tell me it would sting like that, he thought bitterly, though he supposed it was sweet that she had said goodbye. But then Jeremy realized there was a slight problem with that. 

“Jeremy, what is she talking about?” 

Michael was still here. 

Jeremy turned to look at him, and he couldn’t stand the expression on Michael’s face. 

“Jeremy,” Michael continued, voice growing agitated. “I thought you needed her, you know, to live? Where did she go??” 

Jeremy fumbled in silence for an answer, at least, an answer that was well worded enough for Michael. 

“It’s fine Michael,” he began rather pathetically. “You don’t have to worry about it.”  But what if it wasn’t fine? What if something did happen? 

“No, Jeremy, if something’s going to happen to you, I need to know!” Michael said, striding up to him, and Jeremy hated that he instinctively took a step back in response. “Why is Charlie leaving? She made it pretty clear to me that she’s the only thing keeping you alive .” 

“She has to,” Jeremy began quickly, his resolve crumbling as he realized this was a stupid thing to keep secret. He could wake up with no memory of who or where he was, which could be incredibly dangerous for both him and Michael. Or worse, maybe he wouldn’t wake up at all, and Michael needed to know before that happened.