Work Text:
Your fazwatch beeped, the little screen lighting up as it took your attention from your phone. Pressing the home screen button, TikTok closed and you sat up as you tapped the notification. There was a small icon of Freddy’s face, as well as a sponge that wiggled in front of a retro blue-colored background. A smile grew on your face as you stood from your spot on the breakroom couch, stretching your arms over your head as you yawned.
Holding a button on the side of your fazwatch, you confirmed that you had received the order.
“Hello hello, clean up order for aisle Fazbear received, over.” you snickered as Freddy’s robotic voice groaned on the other side of the line.
“Terribly sorry for the inconvenience, Handler (Name). But I’m afraid the children had done quite a number on my casing.”
You rolled your eyes as you exited the breakroom, shoving your phone into your back pocket and adjusting the cap that read HANDLER on its face. Working at a place made for children should have conditioned you to these kinds of incidents, especially when its frequent visitors were children that could be rowdy and rude and honestly irritating. Incidents like messing with the animatronics were such a common occurrence that the company had to make space for a position of Handler, which was just a fancy term for cleaner, repairman, and manager.
Manager of well, their appearance. Gotta look pristine and perfect for the next performance, and the children who would meet them ( and who would just decimate the poor robots once again with their little annoying hands), right?
Sometimes you worked with technicians with their maintenance checks on their endos and their programming, staying close by in case they need help with the plates of their suits or if they’ve mistakenly chipped or messed up anything while reassembling them.
“Yeah, it’s no big deal. I’m literally getting paid for it Freddy, and it’s not your fault,” you yawned again as you scratched your neck, heading towards your office as you nodded to the other S.T.A.F.F. bots that roamed around the closing facility. “It’s not like you asked for them to ruin your suit.”
Freddy was always so nice and so kind, he was always considerate of you and your energy whenever he found himself covered in icing and confetti strips and bits and pieces of pizza or chicken, or sometimes even having oil and grime from just walking around the pizzaplex. You would always assure him that it was alright, and it was your job, and that it was satisfying to see him and his other bandmates looking particularly fresh after what looked like a metaphoric battle or a marathon when there were no giant birthdays or events, sometimes even with them just having an accident while hanging out in their respective game rooms.
You would be concerned though when sometimes their casing had dents and the damage was enough to scratch the paint of their suits. Once, you felt your blood boil when some kid thought it was a bright idea to intentionally mess with Chica’s casing, and rip her earrings off, the poor girl sobbing and wailing as you did your best to undo the damage and repair the plates of her suit.
The doors to the maintenance room slid open, Freddy already standing idly in the center of the chamber with a hose and a gigantic blow dryer fan fitted into the walls and the ceiling that rid any moisture inside of their suits. Just outside were levers and buttons that controlled the doors, next to them were floating shelves of cleaning supplies, as well as racks of wool cloths to dry them with in case you were for some reason not confident in the industrial fan.
You grimaced as you made a sound of disgust, giving Freddy a once-over while he turned to you in surprise.
“Rough day, huh?” you jested, placing your phone on a shelf after taking a ‘before’ picture of him, half for documentation purposes and half for your satisfaction, along with the cap.
Plucking the protective suit from its rack— which was only ever just to make sure employees like you wouldn’t get drenched while basically giving the animatronics a bath — you stepped into the pant legs as you shimmied it up to your shoulders. “You look like you’ve been dunked into a 10 tier cake that a unicorn barfed on and swam in a chocolate fountain with sliced fruit as a bath bomb. What the hell happened?”
The description you’ve given him was not that far from the truth, chocolate and icing were smeared and splattered on him, mostly on his chest plate and his face, rainbow-colored and variously shaped sprinkles sticking to the sweet, and if you squinted your eyes there were even some snapped plastic utensils in there too.
“Unfortunately, one of the children had instigated a food fight when the chaperones left to fetch another gift, leaving me with them. They threw around their dessert and beverages a-as well as other, objects… Do you remember Morgan?”
“Wha- Menace Morgan? I thought he and his whole extended family were banned from the pizzaplex?”
You snorted at Freddy’s look of utter disbelief at your nickname for the little brat.
“Apparently they’ve been pardoned along with some others because the ban list caused a dip in visits for the past months. And he’s not a menace, Handler (Name).”
“Right,” you walk into the chamber, Freddy backing up to make space for you, “And you’re not covered in buttercream frosting.”
The robotic bear’s jaw opened to disagree, yet it closed back up as he registered your point. You then trotted over to him, asking him to sit on the floor so you can disassemble the other costume parts fitted into his suit, starting with the red shoulder pads first.
“If he hadn’t done that to Chica, I wouldn’t call him a menace you know,” you murmur, unhooking the red pads from his endo joints. “And look what he did to you.”
Your brows furrowed as you sigh and set down the rather heavy accessory beside Freddy’s hip. There was silence while you worked on his other shoulder pad, anger and disappointment settling into your features as you remembered Chica’s crying while you removed the dented and faulty platings, having to comfort her and reassure her as you tried to paint over her makeup and tighten the ribbon that secured the faux hair on her head, promising to watch the technicians work on her wires and endoskeleton outside the protective cylinder in Parts and Services, as well as coming along with her to the cafeteria to eat her sorrows away.
That particular day had strengthened and anchored your want of working as their handler, sympathy and loving growing in you as you saw how they were treated by some of the audience and the customers that they adored. As well as a fondness for the robotic animals, treating them all as your beloved friends.
Suddenly you felt the tip of Freddy’s metal finger poke your nose through the clear plastic film of your suit, your eyes widening at the abrupt contact.
“Boop.” he chirped, his eyes closing and his jaw opening in what seemed like a smile.
You then burst into laughter, Freddy following soon after as you shook your head at his antics, placing the other pad on the floor and reaching up to remove his little top hat.
“You are… unbelievably adorable sometimes, Freddy.”
He chuckles again, his shoulders shaking as you unlatched the bow tie and his spiked bracelets.
“Thank you. I find you incredibly endearing as well, Handler (Name).”
The unexpected compliment has your cheeks ablaze, freezing in place momentarily before being thrown off of your trance. You blow raspberries as a way of protest as you set aside his accessories.
“Haha- alright, big guy. On your feet, it’s bath time.”
“Handler, yes, Handler.”
You giggled as he stood, saluting you while you grabbed the hose off of its hook, the loss of weight causing the glass doors to slide shut. Curling your finger on the hose’s trigger, you tested the pressure on the floor first, turning it off to change the setting before pointing it at Freddy, giving him a heads up before you did so. The suit you wore had boots with thick heels, looking like platform boots for the hard-to-reach spots of the 8 feet animatronics, beneficial for when you needed to scrub off any of the stubborn dirt that clung to the metal.
Every time that you worked on them, it never failed to amaze you how far technology had come. He along with the other animatronics were waterproof, with Monty being the first one to be implemented with such a feature as he was an alligator and it was the corporation’s full intent to make them as realistic as possible. Most days you would find him swimming along the rivers of his golf course. Your training had also required you to watch documentaries of the history of the entertainment franchise, and comparing the old animatronics to the ones that you were taking care of now, you had to admit that it was mind-boggling and jaw-dropping, the improvements in movement and performance, as well as their sleek designs and programming.
Though as you washed off the icing and the food and picked off the foreign objects from his suit, you noticed that the tan color of his stomach hatch was chipped, as well as the blue lightning bolt that ran down the middle of his chest plate. There were also chips on his face paint, which appalled you the most because how the hell can a kid reach that high?
“What the shit?” you whispered as you walked around Freddy, blasting his accessories with the soapy water and discovering there were knicks and dents on them as well. When you looked closely it looked like there were sets of four dot-shaped cavities on it, too. You turn around, staring up at Freddy who was blinking sheepishly at you.
“There’s no way a bunch of kids did this with just food,” you commented, pointing at them.
Freddy averts his eyes.
“Hold on, how long ago was Morgan banned?”
“If I recall correctly, 4 years ago.”
You did the math in your head, remembering that Morgan was 12 at the time he was first banned, and now he’s grown up to be a 16-year-old hazard. He was probably accumulating bitterness when he found out he was forbidden from visiting the biggest entertainment spot in the world, as well as teenage angst as the years passed. He probably cuts classes and sleeps in school.
Perhaps that assumption was uncalled for, but with behavior like this, it was impossible not to think of it.
“Oh my god,” you flicked a switch rather aggressively, switching out the source for clean water for your hose as you continued to wash out Freddy and his accessories. “That’s literally- that’s just a breath away from property damage. Wh- I’m calling the higher-ups to appeal for a permanent lifetime ban and a fine. And a lawsuit.”
“I do not think that is necessary-”
“And what if this happens again but it’s worse this time? What if someone’s idea of a joke wrecks you? What if you get decommissioned because the company isn’t informed of incidents like this? What am I gonna do by then?!”
Another bout of silence flitters between you, worry bubbling up in your stomach as you stare up at the animatronic bear, considering your thoughts as fans inside him whirred and blew.
“Look, I’m sorry, I…” you mutter, you return the hose back to its hook, the glass doors reopening as you walk out of the chamber. “I didn’t mean to yell. I’m turning on the dryer now.”
Freddy gave a nod as you closed the chamber from the outside, pulling down the lever that kickstarted the fans, warmth radiating from it as it whirred. You pushed it down as he gestured for you to stop the dryer, reopening the container as you entered it once more.
“Run diagnostics. Scan for moisture levels within endoskeleton joints and tendons.”
“Running.”
A few moments passed with muffle beeping before Freddy spoke up again, his eyes returning to their usual cool blue color.
“Diagnostics and scan complete. All systems and programming are functional. No moisture levels were detected within endoskeleton joints and endoskeleton tendons.”
“Alright. Take those and come with me.”
He followed behind you with his accessories in hand as you removed the protective suit and dumped it into a smaller machine within the maintenance room, turning on the dryer. You pointed towards the open walk-in storage, his heavy footsteps echoing as he trudged towards it, sitting down in the middle of a square of yellow-colored tape.
You snatched the heavy-duty leather gloves off of the table and walked to the storage room towards Freddy, patiently waiting for you as you pulled the chains that rotated the shelves, picking up paint cans and extra accessory parts to swap out.
As the shelves for Freddy came, you noticed that there were only two left for the chest plate, three for the faceplates, four for each forearm, and one for each shoulder pad. Clicking your tongue, you raise your hand and tap the screen of your fazwatch, calling any technicians and other managers that were still in the building. One of the technicians picked up, introducing themselves.
“Good evening, Aiden Penner speaking. Level 3 technician, currently in Fazerblast repairing faulty S.T.A.F.F. bot, what can I do for you?”
“Evenin’ Aiden. This is (Name) (Last Name), General Animatronic Handler and Manager, in the Ground Floor Maintenance room tending to Freddy Fazbear. Listen, I just checked for spare parts of his casing and saw that there’s only a few left. Could you make an order for more?”
Aiden hummed, a few beeps and taps coming from his side of the call.
“Noted Handler (Last Name), could you give me an inventory?”
“Sure, GRF CHP one, GRF FP two, GRF SP zero, GRF TP five, GRF BP five, GRF SMP five, GRF BP ten, GRF FMP eight, and GRF SLP ten. Oh- and GRF SB two, aaaand GRF TH one.”
“That’s a copy, Handler (Last Name). Thanks for the heads up, good luck with your shift.”
You then thanked him as you shut off your fazwatch, turning to Freddy with spare shoulder pads and bracelets, along with buckets of paint and a big industrial airbrush. Sighing, you place your hands on your hips as you look over the damage on his casing, Freddy glancing at you with his downturned head as if he was apologetic and ashamed.
Reaching out, you gently pet his head that leaned into your hand, rubbing the area behind his ears that wiggled as he closed his eyes, accepting your act of affection.
“I’m sorry. I really am, I just-” you kneeled down in front of him in between his legs, leaning your forehead on his chest. “You guys are really important to me, okay? You are… honestly better friends than real people that I’ve met throughout my life, and- and I don’t want anything bad happening to you. That’s why I fuss over even the littlest damages on your suits and- and the idea of any of you being decommissioned or destroyed…”
You swallowed the lump in your throat, the back of your eyes stinging.
“...scares me.”
Screwing your eyes shut to stop yourself from crying, you felt Freddy’s hand press against your back, patting it slowly. You sniffle, roughly wiping your nose against your sleeve.
“I am… very glad that you care about us very much, you are the most caring and kind and loving Handler we’ve had, and I, along with Monty, Chica, and Roxy, are very grateful that you chose to work here.”
You felt Freddy’s voice vibrate and rumble against his chest plate, turning your head as you rest your hand on it.
“You work so hard being our sole caretaker, you give so much care and attention to us, you speak to us like any other person. You make us- you make me —” Freddy gently nudges under your chin with his thumb, beckoning you to look at him. “ —feel as though I am more than just an animatronic made to entertain and perform. Like I am my own being.”
Though made of metal and plastic instead of skin and muscle, there was no denying it that the way he spoke and the way he looked at you made him seem so human, especially with the vulnerability that he showed and told you.
“I feel a sort of attachment to you that exceeds professional cordiality. I am delighted to know that you also feel the same.”
You felt your heart squeeze inside of you as you throw your arms around him, Freddy slightly swaying from the sudden force and weight. He returned the embrace as well, the dryer made him feel so warm and cozy that if you had the chance you could have just stayed there forever.
“Just be careful next time, okay?” you muttered against his shoulder. “Just don’t stand there and take it, you can leave and just get the hell out of there.”
“But I won’t have an excuse to see you if I do.”
You weakly laugh, jokingly kicking his leg. You wipe the corners of your eyes with your wrist, seeing Freddy’s lower lids rise in a semblance of a smile as you pulled away from him.
“You can just call me over you know? I’m still a sort of manager, you can make up some other excuse so we can hang out.”
“I suppose that is true. Perhaps I will also trash my room like Monty so you can come and help fix it all up with me.”
Shaking your head, you fish a flathead screwdriver out of your utility belt and pop the lid off of the paint cans.
“Don’t even think about it, Frederick Fazbear. Or else I’m grounding your 200-pound steel ass. I can do that, you know?”
“Of course, I do.”
Freddy chuckles at your empty threat, watching as you fitted a new set of accessories on him, buffed and polished to perfection.
You then fill the container of the airbrush with blue and pick the stencils off of the shelves. Fastening a mask on your face, you furrowed your brows in focus as you retouch the lightning bolt on his chest, as well as the mask-like design on his face. Picking up a paintbrush after you’ve removed the mask, you go over the little details that the airbrush might have missed, trying to make it look perfect and brand new.
After a while, you feel yourself squirming under Freddy’s watchful eyes, gazing at you as you scrunched up your face while you traced the lines ever so carefully.
“What is it?” you ask, after a few rounds of borderline awkward eye contact.
“Nothing,” he responds, his fingers drumming his thighs with a pit-a-pat as he momentarily switches his attention to the ceiling. “Sometimes you are unbelievably adorable, Handler (Name).”
Your cheeks flared as you realized that he had used your own compliment at you (or was it against you? ), feeling your heart beat quicker as Freddy laughs.
“Very funny, Freddy.” you droned, trying to play off the fact that your knees almost gave out all of a sudden. “But that’s my line.”
“But I am not joking. Your focused expression is cute. I’ve only ever noticed it now.” He reasoned, tilting his head lightly to the side as you leaned away from him to get a good look at his face.
“Huh?” you stammer, blinking as if you were trying to see if this was just some hallucination the smell of freshly opened probably highly toxic paint gave you.
“Your hard-working attitude and attention to detail are very admirable. Not to mention the way you carry yourself in a calming and cool manner, as well as how you express yourself in styling the company uniform unique to your own personality, is wonderfully charming,” the animatronic bear drawled on, clueless to the chaos writhing inside you as you felt your skin grow warmer.
“Wait, hold on-”
“There is also the way you part your hair and how it is groomed to accentuate such lovely features. My favorite colors are blue and red but your favorite color is starting to grow on me as well! Why, I think everything about you is very likable,”
You were pretty certain your clothes had been set ablaze as you tried to process the barrage of compliments thrown your way, each one urging your stomach to flutter and your heart to beat closer to an implosion within your ribs.
Before he could even say any more, you dropped the paintbrush and grabbed at his snout, shutting them close with both of your hands.
“Time out, big guy. That’s too many nice words…”
“But you deserve them as much if not more than anyone does?”
Freddy spoke, even without opening his jaw. Your eyes widened in surprise as you’ve never done that before to know that would happen, letting go of him immediately. Awkwardly staring at each other, you decided to break the prolonged eye contact by picking up the brush and putting away your tools, asking Freddy to stand to his feet.
You fan your hand to call him over as you walked towards the shelves, taking your phone out and capturing the ‘after’ photo of Freddy’s trip to the Maintenance Room.
“And that’s my shift,” you announced, dorkily placing the cap back on your head after you’ve sent the photos to your drive. “Do remember what I told you, Freddy. Don’t just stand there and take it.”
“Yes, I promise. And please also remember what I’ve told you today. It is all genuine, as well as the too many nice words I’ve spoken.” Freddy gives you a smile again, petting your head as you did him earlier. “Please have a safe trip home, and thank you for taking care of me once again.”
You thought the floor swayed under your feet as Freddy bends down and gingerly presses his snout on your forehead, acting out what seemed to be a little smooch, waving his hand goodbye as he retreated back to his green room in Rockstar Row.
You were adamant about attending training, always enthusiastic in listening to talks, but is there a seminar for this?
Nowhere in the thick manuals the company provided nor in the passed around knowledge of your seniors taught you how to handle this situation. Perhaps they never expected a handler and an animatronic to form such a close bond that they’ve never thought of preparing employees for such circumstances despite the single parents of the children and on rare occasions teenagers openly flirting with the unreasonably weirdly enough attractive bots at times.
You did say in your resume that you were a quick learner, and perhaps you can gatekeep this knowledge for yourself.
You smile as you touch your forehead.
