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It’s been almost a month now since Gregory had been taken in by Freddy to live in the Pizzaplex. The building had been shut down for repairs on not only the animatronics, but also the various features of the building itself. Seems that Fazbear Entertainment’s upper management team really did not take too kindly to anything that could imply they had anything to do with death and other legal questioning. Gregory was just glad the work crews were pouring as much cement as they could down below Roxy Raceway. Shuddering at the past that was buried below there.
Speaking of Roxy, and by extension Chica and Monty, the other three animatronics after they had been repaired had apologized to him once Freddy had felt comfortable with reintroducing Gregory to them. Though mostly they stayed away from Freddy and Gregory. Gregory assumed they had a lot to sort out. Not that he didn’t as well… There were some nights he could swear mechanical claws or teeth were inches from his neck.
The crews always took the evenings off which was when Gregory got to play around. Freddy however was unfortunately stuck in Parts and Service, apparently getting upgraded and checked over. So he was on his own for the night. He can handle that.
“Hmm… What to explore…” Gregory whispered quietly to himself as he walked out to the main stage, looking around at the various attractions. “Go karts.” He decides to wander towards Roxy Raceway, glad Freddy had managed to get the security bots to ignore him, even on a skeleton crew the bots were annoying.
He felt bad about what he did to Roxy, taking her eyes wasn’t pleasant but she still caused quite a few problems for him after she was blinded. He shivers slightly, recalling the sound of her sobbing…
Oh wait no that’s actually Roxy sobbing. He’d already crossed the threshold of the raceway, trying to keep quiet and tip toe around the wolf.
“I can hear you.” She growls suddenly, snapping to attention and looking right at Gregory from where she was sitting at the doorstep of the salon.
“Ah ha- Uh… Sorry- I’ll um… Go now.” He backs away, shoulders tense.
“No.” She stands and comes over, grabbing the front of his shirt and lifting him up to meet her eyes. “You won’t.”
“P-put me down! P-please!” Gregory stammers out, brave facade breaking as he remembers the terror of her chasing him.
“You and I need to have a talk.” She says simply, grip tight as she walks into the salon. Gregory really wishes Freddy wasn’t in Parts and Service right now. Roxy pushes him into one of the salon chairs and stands in front of him, blocking him from getting out.
“Listen you, little punk, I don’t like you. I don’t know why you’re still here. You should have been gone ages ago. So tell me why are you still here.” She snarls.
“Wh-what? Di-didn’t Freddy tell you?” Gregory curses the stammer.
“Tell me what?! He’s just said you can stay here!” She snaps. “You have to have parents or something!”
“…I don’t.” Gregory scowls at having to say that out loud, he really thought Freddy had explained everything already.
“What do you mean you don’t? Every kid has a parent or guardian of some kind.” She crosses her arms.
“I don’t.” He says again, voice bitter, “No one has to take care of me. I can handle myself.”
“Then why do you stick to Freddy like velcro huh?” She huffs.
“Because he’s the only one who is actually nice to me.” Gregory snaps. “No one cares once you’re old enough. No one bothers to do anything. So you have to do it yourself!” He scowls trying to escape Roxy only to get blocked.
“Nuh uh. What do you mean do it yourself?” Gregory doesn’t pick up on the shift of her tone.
“Survive. Find food, find a box to hide in, clean your injuries. Exactly what I did a month ago without you and everything else trying to kill me.” He snaps.
“…You were homeless.” It’s a statement of fact, not a question, Roxy finally computing what Gregory meant.
“Yeah. And you have self esteem issues which don’t make any sense because you’re literally a star.” He rolls his eyes trying to deflect the conversation, already hating that he had to be the one to explain it.
“What would you know about that, punk?” She growls.
“You have tons of fans. You have the band, you don’t have anything to worry about at all! Hell you don’t even have to watch what you eat or anything.” He growls that he still can’t escape her.
“You think it’s easy being on stage, kid!? You think we aren’t constantly monitored and watched and kept in line?” She snarls getting into his face. “I have to be the best because if I’m not I’m scrap.”
“Yeah right. Like they’d scrap any of you.” He rolls his eyes again. “They literally fixed all of you after what happened.”
“They don’t treat us like you treat Freddy, punk. We are just walking, talking hunks of metal and wires. If they hadn’t been able to salvage us they would have replaced us in a heartbeat. I’d be dead. Chica, Monty, Sun and Moon, DJ, Freddy. We’d all have our chips yanked and fresh AI stuck in. They. Don’t. Care.”
“Well… Seems we both have to do what we need to in order to survive.” Gregory says snidely.
“Seems we do.” She growls, finally backing up.
Gregory takes his chance and escapes, running back to the little room Freddy made for him.
Things between Gregory and Roxy were still tense after that talk, but not as tense as they were before. She wouldn’t bother him if he snuck into the Raceway again, letting him just do whatever, even if her eyes were watching. Gregory didn’t bother her either whenever he could hear her crying in her room. But sometimes, they would both find themselves in the salon at the same time. Quietly sitting and thinking. An acceptance of each other and what they both had to do what they needed to.
Three months later the Pizzaplex was back open for business, Gregory staying out of sight during the day but sneaking around at night. He’d thought he’d been safe, poking around in the raceway again only for a security guard to start chasing after him.
“Get back here you little brat!” The guard yelled after him only to come screeching to a halt as Roxy made herself known, letting Gregory find a hiding place. “Roxy, get out of the way, we have an intruder.”
“No we don’t.” She looks at her nails disinterested, glancing up at the guard.
“There was literally a kid running from me.”
“I didn’t see one.”
“So you’re defective then huh?” The guard growls.
“Not defective.” She snarls in their face. “But if you ever think there’s a kid and chase them again? I’ll make sure you’re not here anymore.” She threatens.
“…Management will have a word with you.” The guard sneers.
“Good luck with that.” She snaps, watching the guard leave the Raceway. “…You can come out now, punk.”
Gregory slowly steps out of his hiding place. “Why did you do that?”
“…I did what I wanted.” She flips her hair. “Does it matter?”
“…I guess it doesn’t.” He shrugs, kicking his foot on the ground.
“Good… Why don’t you get a kart up and running… Let’s have a race, punk.”
Gregory snorts, “You’re on.”