Chapter Text
Gregory sat in the medical station, wrapping the white bandage around and around his arm, trying not to sob too loudly as big fat tears rolled down his cheeks.
He was a big kid, he shouldn’t be so upset! And yet there he was, crying over a dumb scrap of metal. And also a bit over the three parallel and jagged lines that score his arm that he was trying very very hard to fix, but there was so much blood and it hurt so much and-
“Kid, did you even clean it first?”
Gregory yelped at the sudden voice. The question had been quiet, almost grumbled, but in the silence of the staff halls and when listening carefully for any animatronics or the night guard or the bunny lady, the man’s voice may as well have been a shout. Someone was here?! As far as Gregory had known, there wasn't some adult man wandering around. Or, it would seem, there was. Knowing Gregory's luck, whoever this was was just as bloodthirsty as the rest of the terrible Pizzeria. It was too late now for Gregory to try and pretend he wasn’t there, but he’s not going to go down without a fight. There was a pair of scissors in the medical station that Gregory grabbed. Then, he lept out from behind the curtain, brandishing the sharp metal like a sword.
The man did not seem scared, or even amused. In fact, the man looked nearly bored, leaning against the side of the medical station with his arms folded.
“They’re big metal robots. You think that’ll do anything?” the man said.
“Get back!”
“There’s supposed to be some antibiotic shit in there; put it on the cuts and then wrap it up. That’ll be better for you, trust me. And then in the morning you can get your parents to look after it or something. This place isn't exactly a hospital.”
Gregory glared at the man, still pointing the scissors at him, and the man sighed, rolling his eyes.
“Fuck, why couldn’t it have been the security guard? You’re just some kid.”
“Hey!” Gregory frowned. Just like and adult to think that kids were stupid and useless. Just went to show how stupid adults really were, though. A truth that proved correct no matter how many adults Gregory met.
“Look, I'm just here because I need a hand with Freddy,” the man said, “And, unfortunately, you’re the only person here at the moment that Freddy likes and trusts. Are you willing to help me out?”
“No!” Gregory shouted, recoiling away from the man and belatedly realizing that he was shaking. Then Gregory realized that he had been shouting, remembering that there were other things out there that wanted to kill him. He slapped a hand over his mouth. It was dark, but Gregory can just barely make out the man’s eyes as they looked Gregory up and down approvingly. He man sighed again and shook his head.
“Alright, deal with you arm first, and then we’ll talk.”
“Why would I talk to you?” Gregory demanded petulantly, ignoring the fact that that was what he was currently doing. He probably knew this place well enough - especially this area of it - it wouldn't be all that hard to shake this guy off his tail.
“Because I’m now the only person in here that doesn’t want to kill you,” the man said, then amended, “Other than Freddy.”
“That’s not true!” Gregory’s voice raised again, his arm pulsing with pain.
“Listen, I’m not sure a five year old-”
“I’m nine!”
“-will understand it all, but after you’ve dealt with that mess, I can try to explain it to you," the man gestured to Gregory's arm. Whatever ‘it’ was, Gregory wasn’t sure, but it was true enough that the man didn’t seem to be trying to kill him at that exact moment and Gregory’s arm was still bleeding. And he'd certainly already had plenty of time to do something. With caution, Gregory retreated back into the medical station. The curtain made a flimsy barrier between himself and the man, but Gregory was still thankful for it. He could imagine, for a second, that the man was not there, waiting just outside, and that instead he was still safely alone. There was indeed some antibiotic stuff, a spray that stung when Gregory put it on the cuts. He hissed through his teeth, and then that became something like a humiliating whimper, but managed not to make too much noise. When Gregory started to wrap his arm again, the man knocked on the side of the medical station.
“What now?” Gregory demanded angrily. Just what he needed, the man to distract him. He needed all his focus to wrap his arms while he was shaking so much.
“Let me see those," the man said, pointing to the bandages. Gregory held it out reluctantly, just wanting to the man to shut up and complying seeming to be the quickest route there. The man didn't take it, but instead hovered over Gregory's hands, guiding Gregory through the wrapping of the bandages with surprising gentleness. The man’s hands were calloused and cold, a fitting match for the man himself, but by the end the bandage was wrapped nicer and tidier than Gregory had been managing on his own. They were not too loose and not too tight, and as Gregory practiced moving his arm around, he found himself pleased to still have just about full range of motion, even if the dull throbbing of pain was still present.
“... who are you?” Gregory asked finally, calmed down somewhat from before and thinking a bit clearly. Who was this strange man who had just shown up? Gregory hadn't even heard him approach before, much less seen him around.
“You can call me Mike, if you need to. I’m… Freddy’s main mechanic. I know him inside and out. The thing that did this to you? That wasn’t Freddy.”
“But-!”
“I know it looked like Freddy, but you’re thinking about just the shell of the animatronics. What really makes them is the endo,” Mike explained, which actually explained very little.
Now that Gregory wasn’t threatening the man or worrying so much over his arm, he could pay the man's physical appearance more attention. Mike looked like he was probably sick, that was the first thing that Gregory noticed. The supposed mechanic’s skin was almost gray or purple, like he was dying right in front of Gregory, or has been dead for quite some time. There’s terrible dark bruises under his eyes, and his eyes themselves were oddly dark, making his strangely bright irises stand out more. Gregory would say they were purple, but that was impossible, so they must've been blue. Mike was probably bald, but the hat he was wearing put that fact into question. He was wearing pretty plain and dirty clothes; a button down shirt with enough buttons undone and sleeves rolled up to see scars or tattoos or something that was on his arms. There was also a scar on his face, like somebody had tried to tear a straight slash from his eye down his face. He was probably the creepiest thing Gregory had seen all night - no, in his entire life, but that also made the man the coolest thing, and that fact left Gregory cautious. Everything in here wanted to kill him, and it seemed weird for Mike to be the exception.
“I don’t get it,” Gregory admitted. It had been Freddy that had clawed at him, Gregory had been there, he had seen the robot himself.
“Think about it like… a house, I guess. There’s the walls of the house, and you can decorate those and paint them however you want, right?” Mike said and Gregory nodded, “But the walls aren’t what makes the lights turn on or the plumbing work, or even give the house its shape. That’s the scaffolding and pipes and wires and all the stuff inside of the walls that make the house what it is.”
“I… guess?” Gregory said.
“Well that’s the only thing I can think of. Basically, Freddy isn’t just his walls, right? He’s the inside of the house too. And right now you’re seeing a house with similar decoration and thinking that makes it Freddy.”
“... I don’t get it,” Gregory said again, face scrunching up. Mike made a frustrated sound.
“Okay, then... clothes, huh? You’re thinking somebody else wearing Freddy’s clothes makes them Freddy.”
“Oh!” Gregory blinked, "So... it wasn't Freddy?”
“I mean, you're missing all the nuance of how it works with that analogy, but yes. Yes, it wasn’t Freddy. And I need your help to find Freddy.”
“Why do you need my help? You’re an adult and I’m a kid.” Gregory started to fold his arms, but was rudely reminded that his arm was wounded, and instead put his hand on his hips. Adults didn't trust, need, or even like kids. This was a fact.
“Jesus, kid, you think I’d be asking you for help if I had another choice? Yeah, not likely - a kid in a pizzeria like this never works out. But you’re my only choice, and I’m your only choice, so let’s skip all that mistrusting shit and get right to the brass tacks: Freddy is here somewhere, and if you want a prayer’s chance of surviving until six, you’re going to need him,” Mike said.
Gregory considered it. It was true enough. He’d been so worried about Freddy after the animatronic had been hurt near Roxy Raceway, and when he thought he was going to meet up with him, the robot bear had attacked him in the ultimate act of betrayal. That left Gregory against all four of the main animatronics, the security guard, the bunny lady, and countless security bots. The odds were really stacked against him now. He needed help. He needed an ally. So apparently, he did need Freddy, and right now that also meant he needed Mike.
“Okay, but don’t think I trust you!” Gregory glared. The man rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, whatever. Come on, we need to get somewhere they won’t look for you first.”
Mike started to lead the way out of the employee area and, with reluctance, Gregory tagged along, though he does keep the sharp scissors in his hand the entire time. Mike walked with purpose, clearly familiar with the layout, and his strides were long. Gregory had to pick up his pace to keep up with him.
“Why are you here anyway?” Gregory asked, unable to stand the quiet, especially when the weird stranger was right there.
“I told you, I’m Freddy’s main mechanic,” Mike repeated.
“Everybody else went home for the night, though,” Gregory reminded him.
“And Freddy needed maintenance after what happened on stage today, didn’t he?” Mike pointed out. Gregory had to admit that that sounded right enough, even if he still didn’t really buy it. Mike was weird. Aside from all the obvious things, there was something else about him that made Gregory uneasy, though exactly wht was hard to put his finger on, seeing as the whole Pizzaplex left him uneasy. Yeah, he wasn’t going to be spending any time here anymore, that much was sure. Some leftover pizza wasn’t worth dying over.
“So if Freddy isn’t in his, um, clothes, where is he?” Gregory asked.
“They keep the extra endos down in parts and service, so we’ll start there. If we’re lucky, Freddy’s just been tossed with the others,” Mike said.
“Endos?”
“Endoskeleton. The extras are usually a bit more active than you’d want.”
"That doesn't sound good," Gregory stuck his tongue out.
"It's not, but don't worry, you're with me. I'm an expert," Mike assured him.
Gregory did not feel assured, but he did feel like maybe he wasn't going to his death. He felt better than he had a bit ago when he was crying in the medical station on his own, and that kept him walking onward.