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Night was cold, weary, and lonely. As you drove to Fazbear Frights, you couldn’t help but rethink the events of last night. However, there was little time to think as you parked your car, the oh-so familiar building within eyesight. Upon the shutdown of your vehicle, you slumped into the carseat and took a deep breath before hopping out. What awaited inside would quite possibly be the most awkward interaction you would ever face. You could stop, you could just leave, but you needed this money. They paid well, far more than the average job, and now there’s no risk of danger. The animatronic inside no longer had a desire for bloodshed, instead, your touch. Nevertheless, you gathered the courage to walk to and inside the building, making your way to your post before sitting down.
Springtrap, knowing your arrival would come soon, waited at the entrance of Fazbear’s Frights. For the first hour or so, you watched the faded, poor camera screen, confused as to the animatronic bunny’s lack of movement. You didn’t complain, in fact, you appreciated the lack of movement, but there was a sense of disappointment you couldn’t explain. A small, deranged part of you didn’t want to spend 6 hours doing nothing but occasionally resetting ventilation and twiddling your thumbs. No, that wasn’t what you came here for. That small part of you may not even be small anyways, it may be much, much bigger as you had brought supplies to “restore” Springtrap. A large bottle of water, a hair dryer, a bottle of animal shampoo, a brush, a towel and a small bottle of cologne. You didn’t know why, but you felt like you had to do something about Springtrap and the god awful condition he was in. Was it a bad idea? Possibly. Would it get you fired? Definitely. The whole point of this attraction was to scare people. Then again, it could lead to a pay raise… After all, there was still, what you assumed to be, old, rotten guts within the endoskeleton of the animatronic. It would give off a sort of child-friendly but menacing vibe. With your actions justified, you scroll through the cameras and click “Cam 01.” With one, somewhat hesitant sigh, you press “Play Audio.” The very annoying, but signature Balloon Boy laugh played, hopefully attracting Springtrap.
Springtrap’s head poked up as he heard said audio, rising onto his feet as he made his way to said audio, stopping himself to see you through the large glass pane. You made eye contact with him, and waved, essentially inviting him inside. In spite of the cold, blank hues, you could see the hesitation in them. As uncertain as Springtrap was, he came inside your office, immediately taking notice of the various cleaning equipment you brought. And then, he spoke in his familiar raspy, cold tone, “What is that?”
“Oh, this? I don’t mean to be rude, but you smell. You smell awful. This should be enough water and shampoo to help with that scent..”
He was flabbergasted, but appreciative of your bluntness. Even if it would be a rather long process, anything that would keep your interest in him is greatly wanted. Still, there was slight fear within him. The springlocks, what if they go off? It’s a ridiculous thought, considering it has already gone off years ago, but he couldn’t help but step back as you approached. Before he could put in a word, you had already uncapped the bottle and threw a large amount of water onto his figure. Water seeped down his fur and the exposed areas, causing Springtrap to shudder uncomfortably. His fear, at the very least, diminished seeing as nothing happened, not even a squeak. He would’ve appreciated a warning, though…
“Looking good so far, let’s begin…” You muttered, as you squeezed a heaping amount of animal shampoo onto your hand. You began to lather the animatronic bunny, watching as the heavily discolored fur began to lighten up, much to your delight. Even the smell was fading, little by little. Springtrap wasn’t enjoying this as much as you did, he had an unsure glint in his eye as he watched you lather his faux furred mechanical body. From the ears to toe, you were very thorough with him, and watched in absolute delight as he lightened up. By the time you were drying his body, his once extremely discolored green fur brightened into a yellowish green. There was lots of improvement, but for now? Springtrap was no longer a disheveled mess, and a wave of pride hit you. Springtrap was so glad the restoration was over, his body rumbling as you brushed his fur.
“I wonder…” you asked, looking up at him, “Are you possessed? Animatronics nowadays are pretty advanced, but you’re from the 1970s, there’s no way they had animatronics as advanced as you.” Springtrap’s expression switched from pleasure to absolute horror. Essentially, he was given an ultimatum; to tell the truth or to lie. He was desperate to keep you around, he wanted to shove his past into the deepest depths of hell. You could never know. “I know it doesn’t sound believable, but no, we aren’t possessed. We just have… advanced programming..”
Desperate. Desperate. Desperate.
He was desperate for this lie to work, for you to remain oblivious. You knew it was a lie, but seeing Springtrap’s discomfort was enough to drop the topic and instead for your hand to reach and gently stroke his head.
“I wonder how expensive it was. Guess I’ll never know… anywho, it looks like you’re done,” you said, as you sprayed just a bit of cologne all over his body. He was finished, your first and finest restoration. Without much hesitation or thought, you hugged the large figure, laughing softly as you inhaled the fresh scent. Sure, the scent of rotting flesh remained, but it wasn’t nearly as present as the accentuated scent of cologne. Once again, Springtrap was shocked, his arms raising as if he was afraid. Afraid of what? He asked himself. Before he could return the gesture, you stepped back, checking your wristwatch. At that, his face sank, sad that you may already have to go.
“3:03 A.M. It looks like we have plenty of time to mess around.”
. . . Nevermind.
The tension in the bunny faded completely, slouching as he essentially collapsed into his arms, squeezing you softly. “Thank you,” he said, with a shaky tone, “Thank you for all this.” Your first thought was to hug him back, his hands running circles across his restored fur. Springtrap was purring, rather loudly at your kindness, holding you tighter. It was sweet, you admit, to see this very large, seemingly threatening individual to be so gentle and forlorn. You felt bad, to think that you wanted to leave him behind in this old, decaying attraction. A small desire to leave with Springtrap sparked within you, but the thought was ridiculous. It was too late to take him away from Fazbear Entertainment, so you dropped the idea just as quickly as it came. For now, all you could do was give him what he needed most, affection.
The touch-starved Springtrap stepped back, rubbing the back of his head shyly.
“I’m sorry, I’m just a little… needy, you could say. It’s been a long time since I got to hold someone like that, and to be held like you did to me. I never knew that it was what I needed most.”
You ignored his apology.
“There’s nothing to be sorry about, okay? Thinking about it now, I should just take you from this crusty place. You have nothing to do here, and this place is bound to fail anyways.”
Sure, it was your second day working here, but you already loved the one in front of you. How sweet he is, and it wouldn’t kill you to have a roommate. You don’t even like this place, anyways. Sighing, maybe it’s best to just destroy this place… but what would be believable? You walked away, looking at the camera screens to examine the attraction as a whole. There is a lot of fire…
“Hey, we’re leaving.”
“. . . What?”
“I said we’re leaving, wait for me outside!”
You were really doing this, you told yourself. Where was the harm in burning this place down? Fazbear Entertainment always had a terrible reputation, and that previous employee, Michael, didn’t deserve to suffer through what he had been through here. And those scars… he obviously came here not with the intent of working for the company, but for something else. Springtrap was already gone, awaiting you from the outside. Gathering your belongings, you tipped over a burning candle. The flames have begun, and they spread rapidly. In seconds, the exit hallway was already in flames, burning with ferocity. All you could do was sigh. You never realized it until now, but you always hated Fazbear Entertainment. For what they’ve done, the schemes they tried to pull under the rug, and for not dying. They should’ve been gone a long time ago.
You walked out, tapping Springtrap on the arm to come along with you to your car. Although uncomfortable, he did manage to fit in the passenger’s seat, and was shocked as he saw smoke coming out of the building. Looking at you, all he was greeted with was a stone-cold expression as you pulled out of the parking space and drove off. You pulled out your phone, dialing 911.
Ring… Ring… Ring… Click!
Putting on your best “fearful” tone, you begin to speak, “Operator, Operator? Hello, yes, this is Y/N! Fazbear Frights, it’s - it’s burning down to the ground! I managed to escape the building… I didn’t know what to do, I’m on my way home right now…” Springtrap watched and listened, his eyes sparkling with gratefulness. He was no longer going to be stuck in that disgusting building, no longer confined to dark spaces. He was going to be somewhere new, somewhere safe… and with someone that can provide him with the attention he’s wanted for oh-so long. If he could cry, he would’ve created a river. Hanging up, you couldn’t help but smile.
“So, what do you think? I know it was an impulse decision, but y’know, people have empathy. It doesn’t look like you’d be high-maintenance anyways, just a buddy I can have at home. Also, don’t worry about me not having a job, I get hired pretty quickly.” Springtrap only nodded, and for the duration of the car ride, there was gleeful silence.
6:30 AM.
You and Springtrap were on your cough, the bunny animatronic’s head on your lap. He purred as you stroked his head, the news station you tuned into blaring about the fire that took place at Fazbear Frights. You were questioned, you had to go down to the police station, but as scary as it was, you came out in the clear, even gained compensation for the shady business practices done. As for Springtrap? They didn’t question his whereabouts. How could they? Everything burned down, they assumed the same for the animatronic.
Springtrap found what he needed most.
You found what you needed most.
You and him were happy, content. Springtrap was no longer touch-starved, and neither were you.