Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Any kid growing up in Gravity Falls knew the stories about the old Pizzaria at the edge of town. Fazbear’s was a death sentence to all who dared visit and was rumored to be haunted by the ghosts of dead children and dozens of murdered night guards. Supposedly, the killer animatronics that lived there still operated despite the place not having power, left waiting and hunting for more victims. The families of the disappeared and those young adults who remembered the place before it closed only contributed to the location‘s ghoulish reputation.

In short, it was the perfect place to snag some materials for all kinds of attractions without anyone being the wiser. No citizen of Gravity Falls would be caught dead here after midnight!

Stanley Pines drove up through the parking lot in his faithful “Stanleymobile”, weathering all the bumps and cracks that formed in the asphalt in the nearly two decades since the place closed. It was pitch black outside, with Stan having left the Shack just a few minutes after one in the morning. He trusted his grand-niece and nephew to look after themselves for a while. They were capable little munchkins; he’d seen it himself.

As he got out of the car and got a better look at the place, Stan had to admit that the building looked rough. Most of the windows were smashed in and graffiti had been sprayed all over the outside, including up on the sign. The namesake bear sported a pair of devil horns and tail, the purple rabbit’s eyes were painted completely black with red dots for pupils, and some chicken-duck-looking thing was now flipping off any onlookers.

Not super promising.

So much for the rumors keeping people away. Still, it was worth a shot to see what was left; he was already out here after all.

The broken windows were the perfect entrance inside to the open dining room. It didn’t look much better there either. Hanging wires and tiles were scattered everywhere. Some of the drywall looked to have rotted through. None of the posters Stan could see were legible, let alone salvageable and the roof seemed to have given up the ghost as demonstrated by puddles of water littering the floor. Stan had to be careful as he snuck further away from the windows, tip-toeing over glass and other bits of ceiling while trying not to get his socks wet. Who knew what was festering in that water?

The inside may have been weathered by nature but it was surprisingly untouched by people. There were no signs of anyone living in it: no crumpled bags of food, needles, discarded cans or anything like that. Maybe people weren’t brave enough to go in.

Well, never let it be said that Stan Pines wasn’t brave!

Feeling just a little bit like a kid exploring Glass Shard Beach once more, Stan thought through his options for a minute. It was time to start looking for stuff, but he wasn’t exactly sure where to begin- he hadn’t exactly been a regular when the place was open. The stage was empty of the infamous animatronics and the props on the wall were too far gone to be taken. Stan wasn’t sure if the little clouds that still hung would survive being picked up, let alone taken to the Shack, and that sun was too big to fit in the car.

Still, you could only start from where you were. Good thing he brought a flashlight with some decent battery life.

As Stan walked through the dining room, he noticed that the chairs had been left stacked on the tables, like the place was closed for the night and just waiting to be opened again. It was a little eerie. But there was little on or around the tables that could be salvaged, so there wasn’t much of a point to sticking around.

A wasted half an hour later, Stan sat down on the rickedy stage with a huff. There wasn’t really much to look at in the main area, which didn’t bode well for everywhere else.

Just as he was contemplating raiding the Parts and Services room he’d noticed next to the stage, the rustling of a purple curtain caught his eye farther down the right side of the room. A sideshow, maybe?

Stan went to investigate it. He hoped that there might be some extra props that had been preserved because they were away from the windows.

He didn’t question why the curtain rustled.

When Stan got closer, he saw that the purple curtain was more purple-and-brown and sported numerous holes, but his hopes remained high. The area didn’t look tampered with, just unkempt. The curtain still parted smoothly, like that same motion had been done thousands of times before and it hadn’t been rusting in the same place for twenty years.

And boy was that place the jackpot! There was stuff everywhere here- some kind of pirate act maybe. Toy swords, a half-open plastic treasure chest… a whole ship stage! This was the ticket!

Stan snatched the tin of plastic swords off the stage and scooped the chest under an arm. These would be perfect thing to start with. Maybe he could make a pirate ghost, or those cursed Zombie Pirates like from that movie Marauders of the Mediterranean. On the way out, he found a discarded eyepatch just slightly too big for him to wear and a weathered bandana. Oh yeah, he was definitely making the zombie pirates. Maybe he could say they haunted the lake! Tourists always ate ghost stories up like candy.

His first haul gathered, Stan quickly piled it in the back of his El Dorado and went back in for more.

Parts and Services had some other stuff for him. A few robot parts had been left behind: one of the bear guy’s heads (though it was oddly yellow), a purple paw and wrist, a pirate hook, and a weird looking robot-bird leg. All that ended up alongside his pirate loot in the trunk. Maybe he could focus part of the tour on the history of the Pizzeria. It would be a nice Summerween special…

There wasn’t much down the hall other than a maintenance closet and a security office. At least the office had a surviving poster of the three mascots and a rotted cupcake prop that was sure to give some tourists nightmares. Stan figured there wasn’t much left the place had to offer.

Funny, he kinda wished he had found one of those creepy robots. Rumors be damned.

Still, he was content with what he had. With plenty of ideas in his head, Stan exited the security office and made his way back down the eastern hall, passing by the emptied kitchen. It was probably time for him to get back to the Shack. One look at his watch told Stan he’d been here for just over an hour already, and as much as he trusted his little gremlins, he didn’t want to leave them alone too long. Plus, he had his work on the portal to get back to.

However, just as he was about to exit through the front, a patch of dirty red caught his eye in the direction of the bathrooms.

Well, Stan thought, he hadn’t checked in there. It smelled like something died, so he’d steered clear. Maybe there were something inside he hadn’t seen?

Shining his flashlight into the room almost made Stan lose his grip on it. Robot parts were everywhere! He swung the light back and forth, catching glimpses of stained and withered fur in brown, purple, yellow and red.

He couldn’t believe it! Stan had actually found the robots! Had they been laying around the whole time? He’d nearly missed them!

And there were so many pieces! It had to be that this was the majority of them all- four torsos, four heads, sixteen limbs- well, seventeen, since the fox had a tail.

It was no question that Stan would be taking these with him, he just hoped they would fit in the Stanleymobile.

Welp, that’s what he brought the straps for.

It took him about another hour to load them all up, which was pretty good time considering the state they were in, even if part of him was anxious to get back when he looked at his watch. The biggest pain in the rear was loading up the big bear mascot’s torso. It was heavy enough that Stan worried he might have thrown out his back getting it on top of the car. Guess he’d find out in the morning.

Stan wondered what had happened to the character all the red belonged to. There wasn’t a red one on the sign outside. You would think some kind of cool pirate fox would get more attention! Seriously, that sounded a lot cooler than some singing bear or whatever.

Still, it was with very heady satisfaction that Stan looked at the packed El Dorado. The takeaway was better than he could have hoped for; a whole wing of the Shack could be dedicated to the ghostly local legends and he could make it interactable! Like a haunted mansion! This was the perfect replacement for those wax figures.

Stan drove his Stanleymobile back to the Mystery Shack with no small amount of satisfaction, happily steadying the fox head in his lap as he pulled out of the parking lot. He’d found the motherload and had someone who could help get it all put back together. Soos would probably deserve a raise by the end of it.

As Stan drove off into the night, humming some tune he heard Mabel sing that morning, he naturally didn’t look back at the empty, derelict building. A shame, too, for if he had, he would have caught a flash of rotten fur and empty, rotting eyes staring at him from the dark.

Chapter Text

Contrary to what some may think, reassembling an animatronic isn’t the easiest process.

This was something that Stan and Soos were realizing the hard way.

Building robots was both similar and dissimilar to the Portal. Machinery was machinery, after all, but they weren’t exactly the same kind of machine.

Stan and Soos had gotten real lucky that the Pizzeria’s Parts and Services still had most of what they needed. The place really hadn’t been breached since it had closed- just the outside.

Mabel had wandered in on their little project in the week or so they spent fixing them and lent her assistance. She was enthralled with the big animals, cooing over the bear and the rabbit, and by the time they were finished with the mechanics, the fabric shells were mended with a large variety of colorful patches, glitter glue, and stickers. Dipper had been less than thrilled with the newcomers- Stan swore he caught him giving the bear the stink eye- but helped Mabel with her craft. That was the only reason they weren’t all tye-dyed or neon.

But, the big problem came with getting the suckers turned on. After searching for an embarrassingly long time to find the ‘on-switch’ for the pirate fox guy, they found it and flicked it, but nothing happened.

So, he and Soos looked them over again and again, until Soos checked the batteries and found that they were completely busted. Simple enough fix, Stan thought, they just had to replace them, right?

Well, it turned out that those batteries weren’t made anymore, and were only ever even made by Fazbear Entertainment, which made them super rare or something. Stan had to track down some old ones online for an insane price (that he absolutely didn’t pay for legitimately, but who needs to know that?). That took almost a week by itself, plus the time it took to go get them, and a lot of overtime from Soos to install them.

But that wasn’t the only issue either, apparently. Soos had the idea that it might be a “programming issue” or something, but there was no way to check with the tech they had, so Soos brought over his old computer to see if that would work, and then apparently the ports and stuff didn’t match up, so they had to find some adapters (now on -ahem- "loan" from the local electronics store). But even then, it seemed they didn’t have the right software to check the robots’ condition.

The whole thing was starting to make Stan’s head spin and quite frankly throwing in the towel was looking better and better. But, his faithful employee did his research on something called a “Freddit” (?) for what he said was several hours and managed to find some nerdy thing that would hopefully do the trick.

All of this took much longer than Stan would have liked, and in that time, he had also learned more about robots than he ever would have liked. He’d gotten even less sleep than usual when combined with his work on the Portal.

But now they were getting ready to test it. Stan was watching with his fingers crossed at the computer while Soos did his thing.

“I think it’s working, Mr. Pines!” Soos exclaimed, lines of green code rushing across the screen insanely fast. Stan’s eyes hurt just looking at it, but if Soos thought it was a good thing he would trust him. The kid had really been coming through for him on this.

Eventually, the lines stopped to wait for input. Stan left Soos to it and went to inspect his new attractions.

Even with Mabel’s help, the four animatronics looked rough- that fox in particular had it real bad. There wasn’t much you could do when some of the shells were missing entirely, though he noted that Mabel knitted some leg warmers straight from the eighties for the bare shins.

Some of that damage was just time and poor conditions taking their toll, but as they worked on them, Stan noticed some of the damage looked… purposeful. Like they’d been disassembled intentionally, with a weapon.

He looked the four of them over while Soos messed around on his computer thing, checking their joints, motors, batteries, etc. It all seemed fine, but they wouldn’t know until the robots were activated.

“Oh! Mr. Pines, come look at this,” called Soos. Stan walked his way over and Soos gestured to the screen.

“It looks like they have some kind of ‘Free-Roaming’ mode but it’s only on at night,” he explained, “Maybe they can’t do anything right now because that’s turned off during the day and we don’t have a show programmed for them to do!”

“Well turn it on,” said Stan, “I don’t have a ‘show’ for them yet, so we’re just gonna have’ta make sure they’re working through this ‘free-roam’ thing until we can come up with somethin’.”

“Okay Mr. Pines!”

A few clicks later and the screen pulled up a bolded warning.

FAZBEAR ENTERTAINMENT IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR INJURY, DISMEMBERMENT, DISAPPEARANCE OR DEATH UPON UNAUTHORIZED ACTIVATION OF FREE-ROAMING MODE- ESPECIALLY FOR THOSE CLASSIFIED UNDER NIGHTTIME PERSONNEL. SEE YOUR EMPLOYEE CONTRACT FOR DETAILS AND REPORT TO HR.

HAVE A NICE DAY AND REMEMBER: SMILE, YOU’RE THE FACE OF FREDDY FAZBEAR’S PIZZERIA AND ARCADE!

And with that ominous message, it was done.

Stan and Soos gave each other a sideways look.

“Welp, I say we turn the fox on first,” said Stan, clapping his hands together.

“Um… okay. Why him though?”

“‘Cause I like ‘m.” He reminded Stan of himself, somehow.

“Fair enough.”

Stan walked up behind the deactivated pirate and lifted up the fabric shell on the back of the head to expose a control panel on the endoskeleton.

“You got the contingency ready in case they are really homicidal-killer-Terminator things?”

“Yep!” Said Soos, holding up a cattle prod and zapping it twice.

“Alright,” Stan said and put his hand on the switch, “here goes nothin’.”

Chapter Text

Now, Stan was keeping an open mind about this whole “Free-Roaming” thing, but he certainly had some expectations. He thought maybe it would walk around some, say a few pre-recorded lines here and there, maybe wave. Normal stuff, you know?

Boy, is that not what happened.

With the flick of a switch, what had once been a solid, inanimate statue became fluid. Alive, even. The pirate fox lurched forward out of its ramrod position, throwing out his uncovered hand and hook as though to steady himself with a glitchy, stuttering yelp.

“Who-!? Wha’-!? Who turned o-out the li-i-ights!? ” It said in a robotic, masculine voice, turning this way and that with a strain of servos, not focusing on anything in particular. It’s face screwed up into something angry.

“Ah, I-i-i know who it be. When I find ya’ ye yellow-bellied bil-l-lge rat ,” it snarled, voice getting louder, “I’ll tear yer eyes ou-ou-out with me hook for what you di-i-i-id-!” 

The pirate swung its hook into the wall and pierced through it, only to rip it out with a chunk of drywall and support beam attached. 

That’s not good. 

The fox continued raging , but Stan had no idea at what- certainly not them! Stan had never seen these things before he'd picked them up! 

Each swipe of the hook was barely missing the other three bots lined up against the wall. Stan rushed Soos away from the robot before one of those swings could catch either of them and prayed it didn’t do more damage to anything else.

What in the Hell ? Was ‘Free Roam’ some kind of security mode? That didn’t explain the ranting, but definitely the violence!

But no, it had to be more than that- right? A security robot didn’t talk like a person! Or hold a grudge or attack things! It was like an angry customer but worse - he was pretty sure that fox could snag one of them from nearly anywhere around it with how fast it could turn. Soos raised the cattle prod but Stan cut him off; fighting close quarters might get them gored.

It was only once they got behind the computer that Stan saw that the robot was well and truly swinging at nothing.

It couldn’t see! Something must have been wrong with the optics- Stan remembered that it hadn’t connected very easily- it had needed some extra force because the ports were slightly misshapen after cleaning them. That was their opening!

Thinking fast, Stan grabbed the computer mouse and threw it with as much force as he could across the room. It hit the fireplace with a crack! and split down the middle, falling to the floor in two. The fox snapped his head towards it and stalked away from them, long ears perked and swiveling.

Soos looked at Stan in somewhat offended confusion. 

He’d get the kid a new one later. Preferably shoplifted.

What? Computer stuff is expensive!

“There ye are…” the menacing creature growled, creeping towards where the mouse had fallen with a voice low and full of angry static, “you’re-re-re gonna regret comin’ after us, bucko .”

Stan bolted from behind their computery safe haven and flung himself at the fox, leaping on its back just as it’s ear twitched towards him. He scrambled for the shell on the back of its head as it began to wrench about. “Calm down, would ya!? I don’t know who you’re ready to pummel, but you’ve got th’ wrong guys!” shouted Stan, “Don’t make me do it!”

“Wha-!? Get off me, you sc-sc-sc-scallywag!” cried the robot, jerking this way and that as Stan poked around to find the off switch on the endoskeleton. Stan swatted the hook away from his arm before he could get skewered.

The fox bellowed as his fingers grazed the power switch, and with a sharp twist of its upper body that sent sparks flying, flung Stan to the floor. In his struggle to keep his hold, Stan grabbed at the robot’s face, ripping its eyepatch off as he fell.

A wooden floor is an unpleasant thing to hit at any point in one’s life, but it sucked especially when you were pushing sixty. 

As Stan bit the dirt, the pirate fox covered his exposed eye with a yowl, shaking his head back and forth. Stan propped himself up just as the thing recovered and narrowed a single glowing golden eye at him. The other sat dull and lifeless in its socket.

For a painful, tense moment, Stan was certain the thing was going to whirl on him and rip him to pieces with that nasty hook, but one moment turned into two, and then three, and when nothing had happened by four, he was starting to think he might not die today.

The fox looked away from him and gazed around the room like he’d never seen a parlor before. 

How smart were these things? A dog? Maybe a cat? Like a person , even? This wasn’t exactly in the manual!…Even if they didn’t have one with them, exactly.

From behind Stan, Soos said to the robot, “Are you, uh, not gonna attack us now?”

The thing jumped like he hadn’t even noticed Soos standing there. A move so uncannily human, it was hard to process.

“Ah… I ‘spo-o-ose not-ot-ot. Yer not who I be thinkin’ ye were,” it- he?- replied, somehow looking sheepish despite being, you know, a robot , “Who might ye two be-e-e?”

But before either of them could answer, the fox noticed the other three bots just behind Stan and sprinted- oh G_d, it can sprint- over, looking them up and down.

“Me Cap’n!” He said, overjoyed at the sight of the big old bear, placing a bare, metal hand on its chest, “An’ me lass and lad-d-ddie too!” He turned back towards Stan and Soos with a big grin, conveniently showing off a lot of sharp teeth.

“Was it yo-o-ou lot who put ‘em back together?” The fox asked with his eye open wide, looking between them.

Soos spoke before Stan could. “Yeah dude, we’ve been working on you guys for weeks! You’re real complicated ‘n stuff but, uhh…you seem to be working good! Aside from, you know, the eye thing. And your voice.”

The fox outright beamed at Stan’s employee, robotic tail wagging like a dog, “Good on you two then-n-n! From what I hear, we ain’t exactly the e-e-easiest to get runnin-in-in’.”

Soos was beaming right back. Typical. Maybe it was that golden retriever energy Soos embodied somehow synergizing with the fox. Canine to canine, or something like that.

“Oh man, you got no idea!” His employee said, “First it was gettin’ ya back together in the first place, but then we had the whole battery issue, and then I looked on the Freddit for like fifteen hours to find the right program-”

“ The point ,” Stan interrupted, finding his voice again, “that Soos was making was that yeah, it was complicated, but we got it done.”

“Well, ye certainly be hard wor-r-r-kers!” The old robot said, “My name be Foxy the Pirate! And this old cap’n be mighty grate-ate-ateful to ya’ both for fixin’ the lot o’ us.” Man, they really needed to get that voice fixed- that glitchiness was annoying.

He- yeah, it was probably a ‘he’ rather than ‘it’- held out a hook to shake. Stan, who at this point was only just recovering from being left speechless and thrown on the floor, reached out and shook it without comment.

“My name’s Stan Pines!” He said, shaking off his concern with a wide smile, “This is my employee, Soos- he’s my repair guy. I run the Mystery Shack, my own little museum of the strange and supernatural- I’m lookin to get a new attraction going with you guys in it to bring in some extra cash.” 

‘Foxy’ looked… surprised- again, rather odd since he was a robot - but not upset.

“Hmm-m-m,” he mused, “Ye two wouldn’t be-e-e associated at all with the Fazbear-ar-ars then?”

“Nope,” said Stan, “Unless that matters?”

The fox waved his hook, “Nah, not rea-a-a-lly. Might be pref’rable, actuall-l-ly. I don’t mind helpin’ ya none, but I’d like ‘t hear wha-a-at the others have’ta say.”

“Sounds good,” Stan said, “Who should we do first? You kinda… went nuts there after all.”

“Bes-s-st be doin’ the Cap’n first. Bonnie ‘n Chica would li-i-ike that- it’ll keep ‘em calm if nothin’ else.”

“Sounds good. Soos, you hear that?”

Soos looked over at the two of them and rubbed his neck, “uh, I’d like to but you kinda broke the computer mouse, Mr. Pines.”

Oops.

Chapter Text

One minute, Freddy was in the restaurant- their worn out, closed little diner with the leaky roof and cracking tiles- following… following something- someone? it was all very vague- and the next, he was blinded by sunlight.

“Cheese ‘n crackers! Someone close the blinds!” he yelped and covered his eyes with a paw, “Who-? Where-?”

“ Cap’n! ” crowed a familiar voice, followed by the thudding of metal on wood.

Before Freddy could even look up, a red, fox-shaped blur jumped up on him and sent him to the floor in an unmistakable, classic ‘Foxy Hug’ (patent… well, not pending, since they’re robots, but still, it was patentable).

“Foxy?” Freddy asked, squinting his blue optics as he righted himself, “Izzat you son?”

“Aye, Cap’n! It’s good ta’ see ya in one piece again!” cried the fox, arms around Freddy’s neck and legs around his belly,  “Last I saw the lot o’ ya, you were all… all…”

All what ? Where were they? They certainly weren’t in the restaurant and everything Foxy was giving off felt… bad. Freddy stood up with Foxy still attached.

“Foxy? What happened, son?”

The fox wailed, “Oh, ‘twas awful, Cap’n! The three of ya’ all strewn about; tha’ monster had torn ya all to pieces with ‘n axe-”

“Who? An axe? ”

“Yessir, an axe!” Foxy said, planting his feet on the floor, but still hugging Freddy around the gut like some canine monkey, “If I could get me paws on ‘im, I’d tear the scum limb from limb, I would! That- that menace, having’ the gall to show his face…” 

‘That menace’?… Oh. Oh dear.

Yet, possible dismemberment of criminals aside, Freddy had about a million more important questions, “Is everyone alright? That was awful brave of ya’ takin’ him on Foxy- oh! Did he hurt you?” He put his paws on Foxy’s shoulders, which looked to be covered in colorful patches, and pushed him back to get a look at him- Freddy noted similar patches on his own arms. The fox seemed a little worse for wear than usual- that left eye in particular- but not like he’d been hit with an axe of all things. “What happened to Chica and Bonnie? Who put us back together and where are we?”

“Everyone be fine! We’re sittin’ high and dry in a new ship now- called the Mystery Shack! ‘Twas them there that got us all back in one piece.” Foxy gestured off to what Freddy saw as two slightly differently colored blobs on the other side of the room. His optics must be malfunctioning, surely. He could see Foxy just fine, but the whole room was looking a little blurry. Even though it didn’t help much, Freddy squinted at them and blinked to try and clear his vision, in case it was just dirt or scum.

“Uhh… hello! My name’s Stan Pines,” said the shorter, darker blob with a step forward. While he couldn’t see much, Freddy could make out that this human’s hair was grey and that it had a pair of large glasses sitting on an equally large nose, with some kind of red blob for a hat. It might have been wearing a suit, like the restaurant managers and some parents did.

“This is my employee, Soos,” ‘Stan Pines’ gestured at the other human. At just a few feet further back, all Freddy could tell was that he wore a large green shirt with some kind of logo, had darker skin than Mr. Pines, and dark hair. He felt the odd thought ping through his processor that its shirt was big enough for Freddy to wear.

“We’ve, uh, introduced ourselves to your friend there, but yeah, we’re the guys that fixed ya. Don’t worry ‘bout the other two, we’re gonna get them goin’ in a second, we’re just trying to make sure you’re all booting up like you should,” Oh, Mr. Pines was still speaking.

Freddy still couldn’t see the human- who seemed to be a human man?- very well, though he had gotten closer, but he replied, “Well, we’re grateful for your help, mister. Can’t imagine it was easy doin’ that from scraps, given what the maintenance fellas are always sayin’.”

“Yeah, that’s what the fox said too,” the Pines fella continued, “but we got it! Just say something if part of ya ain’t working right. We had to fix that one’s eye when he woke up blind.” He gestured to Foxy with a thumb, “He darn near took our heads off swingin’ his hook around. His voice box was broke too, though it seems that worked itself out.”

Freddy gave the younger robot a look and noticed Foxy was missing his signature eyepatch, though both eyes looked alert and bright, even if one of them wasn’t following properly.

“Hey! Twasn’t my fault I was wired when I awoke- I thought tha’ axe murderer still be around!” Foxy said and looked up at Freddy with doe eyes, “I was jus’ defendin’ meself!”

“Fine, fine,” Freddy grumbled, waving at him “Though I apologize on Foxy’s behalf, Mr. Pines. Unfortunately, it don’t seem my vision’s workin’ at full capacity either. You look rather… blurry.”

Mr. Pines snorted, “Well, ain’t that becoming a pattern? Bet the other two’s aren’t gonna work neither. The connections for you guys’ eyes are kinda tricky, but we can try to do something about it.”

“I’d be grateful,” Freddy replied, “But it can wait ‘til we’re all up and running. Might as well get the whole list of things figured out.”

“Makes sense. We can do that, right Soos?” said Mr. Pines as he turned to look at the other figure Freddy still couldn’t see much of.

“I think so!” ‘Soos’ said from just a little further away, “Who should we do next?”

Foxy looked up at Freddy, waiting for him to answer, still hugging him around the middle.

“Might be good to do Bonnie next. You know he can get jumpy, it’d be better to calm ‘m down ‘fore we do anything’ else- we don’t know how Chica will be. He was pro’ly scared to death seein’ us all to pieces.”

“Good idea, Cap’n,” Foxy said.

‘Mr. Pines’ nodded and then asked, “Which one’s Bonnie?”

Freddy pointed to the rabbit, who he noted with amusement was covered in the same patches and stickers as Foxy and himself. It reminded him of when kids would still come to the restaurant, when they were able go out and celebrate with the families, and some of the littler ones would draw on their fur, or stick things in it if the four of them weren’t watching. 

“That’s him there. And the yellow one there ’s Chica, just so y’know. Oh, and it might help to close th’ blinds- that sure wasn’t pleasant.”

The blur named Soos assented and moved behind something large and boxy. That must be a computer. Sheesh, Freddy’s eyes really had gone bad if he couldn’t see that not even twenty feet away. He heard the signature rustling of blinds going down, but he couldn’t see it, though it got notably darker.

The computer made a concerning series of noises as that Soos fella messed around with it. Freddy heard a familiar series of beeps and pings that signaled their primary software interface had booted and was establishing connection.

Freddy wasn’t sure what happened that night, but if Foxy had seen the three of them destroyed, that meant he was the last to be attacked. Freddy never saw anything, which could mean he was first. So, it was likely Bonnie had at least seen him torn up all over the floor. Who could know how he would react to being reactivated?

The thought of what his little family had witnessed turned him colder than the metal he was made of.

Bonnie’s internal mechanisms started whirring as the software completed connecting, dragging Freddy away from his thoughts. His little brother (though not the littlest, he thought, looking down at Foxy) should be ready for the activation switch to be flipped in a minute or two. 

Just as a precaution, Freddy extricated himself from Foxy and leaned down to hear Bonnie’s systems a little more clearly. They weren’t going smoothly- something rhythmically felt a little off- like the internal tempo was going too fast or skipping a beat. Might be that there was a regulator issue. Or… maybe he was somehow agitated in standby mode. 

The dark blob that was Mr. Pines appeared in his periphery, looking up at Freddy. He was finally close enough that Freddy could see a little more details of the face- and he had assumed right, Mr. Pines was wearing a suit. That red blob on his head was a fez and had some strange symbol on it etched in gold and a faded black tassel hanging off the back. 

Clearly an older gentleman. Could be anywhere from his fifties to his seventies; humans were strange like that. They came with so much variance, unlike the four of them.

“Ya ready for me to flip it, ‘Cap’n’?” he asked.

Freddy chuckled, “Just Freddy, or Fred, ‘s fine, though I appreciate th’ title. And yes, I believe we’re good to go. Just to warn ya, he might be a little keyed up- I’d get back if I were you.”

“We be ready fer ‘im, Mr. Pines,” Foxy added, looking at Freddy, “Some familiar faces ‘ll help.” Well, he was glad someone had confidence between the two of them. Freddy, on the other hand, had no idea what to expect.

Mr. Pines nodded, went up behind the rabbit, pulled back the fabric shell from the endoskeleton head and looked at Freddy and Foxy.

“On three?”

“Yes.” “Aye.”

“Alright. One… two… three!” 

With only a click, Bonnie’s pink eyes popped open. The lavender rabbit gave a cry and threw himself back towards the wall, wide-eyed. Mr. Pines scrambled out of dodge to the computer as Bonnie kicked out in his direction.

“Bonnie!” said Freddy, reaching out but not quite touching, just in case it made things worse, “S’ alright buddy, it's us! You’re ok!”.

“ Freddy ?” Bonnie whispered, locking his eyes on the big bear, searching him up and down, “Freddy, you’re- you were- you were- and there was- was this guy , with an- an-” The rabbit’s internal cooling was straining to keep up with his processor- Freddy could hear the fans spinning like mad. The rabbit reached up and grabbed one of his long ears,twisting and worrying it with his paw.

“I know, Bon,” Freddy said and stepped a little closer, “Foxy explained it to me, but ’s okay. We’re safe now. These kind fellas put us back together.” 

Freddy gestured with a paw to the two humans behind the computer, “This is Mr. Stan Pines and Soos, his employee. We’re gonna be stayin’ with them for a bit.”

“…Why? Where’s the restaurant? Where are we?” said Bonnie, looking around at the unfamiliar room, his large ears swaying as he turned.

“We’re in the ‘Mystery Shack’, but that’s not important for now. Are you okay? ‘S everything workin’ alright?”

Bonnie looked himself over and unwound a little bit, relaxing off the wall.

“Seems like I’m good…” said the rabbit. A few moments of tense silence passed before Bonnie spoke again.

“… Okay,” he relented and Freddy finally felt comfortable putting a paw on his brother’s shoulder, with Foxy doing the same, “Okay. And- and that axe guy is gone? Like gone, gone?”

“As gone as he can be, considerin’ we be here and he ain’t.” Foxy said with a grin that showed off his ‘gold’ tooth.

“Actually,” Freddy mused, a thought hitting him, “ Mr. Pines, what’s the date? We don’t know how long ’s been since it happened- might be prudent to report the breakin’ and enterin’.”

Mr. Pines looked at him, then Bonnie, then Foxy, but didn’t say anything. Something in Freddy’s endoskeleton whirred a little faster the longer it was quiet.

“Uh… I’m not sure how long you guys have been out, but your place closed in what, December of ninety-four?”

The three of them looked at each other and nodded.

Mr. Pines stiffened just a bit. “It’s, uh... It’s twenty twelve. I just found you guys a few weeks ago.”

Twenty twelve? 

No. No, that was impossible.

That means… that means they had been sitting, rotting for over a decade . It hadn’t been long after they’d closed when they were attacked. A year or so, maybe. Two or three at the very most. By that point, their internal rhythms were wildly off kilter without regular maintenance or a working clock to correct them with.

They were in a new millennium. Yes, it had only been six years away when the restaurant closed its doors, but twenty twelve was years after that. 

Eighteen years. They had been left alone for nearly two decades.

Abandoned.

You could hear a pin drop in the silence that filled the room.

“Eight- eighteen years?” Bonnie whispered, looking at Mr. Pines and then to Freddy, “It’s… been that long?”

Freddy was speechless. Foxy hunched over and leaned into him, just a little.

“Yeah…” said Mr. Pines, rubbing his neck, “But! But, uh, you’re here now! We got ya outta that old restaurant and fixed ya up good as new. That’s- that’s a good thing, right? Now ya got all the time in the world to do, I dunno, whatever you guys wanna do.”

(Stan had wisely decided that this was not the time to push his idea.)

None of them said anything. What could they say? The restaurant was their life, their purpose, but had been closed for so long, it would never open again. If the company wanted to bring them back, they would have done so much earlier. 

It was a miracle they were able to function at all.

If Mr. Pines hadn’t found them… they would have never been reactivated, never able to see each other again. Forever. Their last thoughts would have been their demise.

Or, in Freddy’s case, never would have known anything had happened at all.

Mr. Pines shifted from behind the computer desk. “Well,” he started, “We can, uh, get your bird friend here turned back on at least. Looks like you guys have a lot to talk about. ‘Lotta, y’know, options…”

That was a lie- well meaning, but a lie. They were four animatronics designed after animals, what ‘options’ did they have?

“Alright,” Freddy said, though his voice box felt like it wasn’t attached properly anymore, “That’s… yes. Let’s do that.” Chica deserved to know as much as the rest of them. And, it would be good to see her again. She had a pretty level head on her shoulders. She might have some ideas.

As silence descended once again, the two humans ran Chica through the warm up sequence and Mr. Pines came over to flip the switch a moment later. None of them knew what to say to each other, wrapped up in their own thoughts.

“Anything I gotta worry about with this one?” asked Mr. Pines, breaking the silence and looking towards Bonnie, “Don’t think I missed that kick ya did there.” To his credit, Bonnie looked sheepish, and gave the man a small grin.

“You should be fine, Mr. Pines,” Freddy said with a sigh.

“The lass could be ah’ might scared,” said Foxy, “Watch out for them wings o’ hers if she’s in a state- she’s got th’ longest reach and the strongest grasp o’ the lot o’ us.”

It was part of her function- her grip strength was surprisingly strong to prevent things from falling out of her hands and her arms were longer to assist her performance, just like how Bonnie had strong, reinforced legs for his more active parts in their shows and very dexterous paws. It was Chica’s responsibility to carry things like large cakes, presents, and sometimes she would carry the children, when it had been allowed.

Something about this situation was just- just twisted beyond all reason. The four of them- they weren’t made to process whatever this was. They were meant to entertain. The humans were meant to take care of them, to keep them around so they could look after the little ones. This was infinitely worse than what had happened at the location in eighty-seven. 

Oh dear Lord, that was twenty-five years ago .

With the flick of a switch, Chica came to life and her purple eyes opened wide. Unlike Bonnie- or Foxy, apparently- there was no initial reaction. Her eyes roamed over their new space, taking it in and lingering on the humans. She waved at Soos, who waved back, and then turned to the three of them. So at ease, so normal. Freddy’s equilibrium felt wonky.

“Uh, hey y’all,” she said with her own drawl slightly thicker than Freddy’s. Her eyebrows furrowed.

“Everythin’ alright?” she asked, “You’re lookin’ at me hard enough to burn a hole through me.” Her jaw was out of sync with her voice- there was a delay of about a second and a half and it wasn’t moving properly- like it was catching on something. Hopefully, it would just be a bad motor connection.

“You don’t remember?” Bonnie asked, looking her over. 

Chica shook her head, confused, “Why am I covered in patches? Not that they ain’t pretty an’ all, but I’m more polka-dotted than yella’.”

Freddy glanced off to the side when he felt something start rattling. Foxy looked fit to burst. Freddy couldn’t blame him; he was a stray impulse from wrapping everyone in bubble wrap.

“Somethin’ happened at the old restaurant,” Freddy said, resigned to ripping the bandaid off, though he pulled Bonnie under his arm when the rabbit also started rattling, “We got attacked by a… certain someone… and we… um… we were beat. Pretty badly.” 

“Aye,” Foxy said, picking up after him and placing his hand on Freddy’s shoulder, “But those two over there patched us up. We’re dockin’ with their crew for now.”

 Mr. Pines and Soos looked like they’d rather not be present. Understandable, since Freddy didn’t want to either. He’d rather none of this be happening at all.

Chica’s face mirrored his own, concern written all over, “But- but everyone’s okay, right?”

They nodded.

“For the most part, it seems so,” Freddy said, “though it worries me that you don’t remember. From what I’ve heard from these two, he went after you third, after Bonnie and I, so you likely saw somethin’.”

“I think I know why,” Mr. Pines said. All four turned to look at him. “Some of that, erm, damage was to your head- connections are missin’. We had spares for some of them, so we replaced what we could, but the extra stuff ain’t workin’ still.”

That was bad. 

Oh, that was really bad. Freddy knew they probably didn’t make parts for the four of them anymore. They were two decades old- animatronics nowadays were probably nothing like them! Where on Earth would they get the replacements for that? Was Chica going to be stuck with broken connections forever? What else had she forgotten? 

Would she be able to make new memories? What connections were fried? He needed to see it, needed to fix it-

“Oh, you quit that worrying Fazbear. I’m fine. You’re gonna burn your processors out if you keep that up. I’m just havin’ a little trouble remembering right now, it’ll come to me.”

She must have seen something written on his face. “I’m afraid that’ll be difficult, Chickadee,” he said, “I can’t help but wonder how we’re gonna get you fixed. Eyes and such are one thing, but processors and connectors…”

Chica looked at him, confused. “Why can’t we just get extra from the restaurant? Or order some from th’ manufacturer? We had to do that before when Foxy tried jumping over that table once.”

The room went awkwardly silent.

“It’s… been a while, lass,” Foxy said and rubbed the back of his neck, “We ain’t exactly the New Kids on the Block.” 

Freddy snorted, though he tried to hide it. Bonnie groaned from under his arm, muffled by Freddy’s fur, and Chica and Mr. Pines chuckled. “You just couldn’t help yourself, could ya, mutt ?” Bonnie grumbled.

Foxy huffed, “Ye know I hate that there nickname, No-Brow , so I’d shut yer yap ‘fore ya’ start somethin’ you can’t finish.”

“ You’re the one who’s ‘startin’ somethin’’!”

“Boys, boys,” Chica said as she lightly tapped them on the snouts, smiling, “Let’s not do this now. How long has it been?”

“About eighteen years, give or take when we went offline,” Bonnie said, maintaining his place under Freddy’s arm and averting his eyes.

Chica’s eyes widened and her jaw went slack, “That’s...”

“A long time,” Freddy said, “but we’ll make do with what we got for now. Do ya have a spare motor for her jaw, Mr. Pines?”

“Yeah, I think we do. It’s downstairs with the other spares,” he said, “We’ll, uh, leave you four to talk things out for a bit while we get it- we gotta go… do a thing. Yeah.”

And before Freddy could get a word in, Mr. Pines dragged Soos away from the computer and out the parlor door.

None of them said anything, the humans’ departure leaving them in silence. Bonnie looked around the group.

“Well, I wonder what on Earth he thinks we’re gonna talk about.” 

Chapter Text

Dipper was, to put it mildly, skeptical of Stan’s new attractions. The ‘Wax Figures Incident’, as they dubbed it, had left him paranoid of anything imitating life, because, it turns out, sometimes it was alive; and probably trying to kill you.

Now, the four old robots had been in the house for weeks and they hadn’t so much as twitched, despite Dipper’s new nighttime watch. He might have been tired the next day, (Mabel was still teasing him about dunking his head in his cereal) but it was worth it. No killer robots would be attacking them if he had anything to say about it. Just because they hadn’t done anything then, didn’t mean they wouldn’t ever. Maybe they only moved when the moon was waxing, just like the wax people, or only when someone was cooking pizza at three AM while singing show tunes or something completely banal.

Because these guys were definitely cursed, if not haunted. Wendy spilled the whole story: missing kids, disappeared guards, haunted robots oozing blood and pus; a veritable smorgasbord of paranormal activity. Stan had no idea what he was messing with- not like he would listen to Dipper about it. After Dipper mentioned the four new robots were in the house, she didn’t show up to work for days! It took Stan an hour of negotiations and a raise to tempt her back. 

Wendy was, like, the toughest person Dipper knew. Her freaking out was a major red flag. The Majorist.

But for now , Dipper wasn’t going to smash them to bits with a bat. They hadn’t done anything yet and Mabel seemed to love them. She’d been helping Stan and Soos fix them all up for at least a week, and she’d knitted little stuffed animals to match each one. Stan was thinking about merchandising them once they got a show put together.

Stan told the two of them this morning that the bots were completely up and running and to leave them alone while they ‘calibrated’ or some nonsense, which meant if they were evil, they were totally going to do something tonight. Every story, every tale, every legend- they all took place at night .

Dipper’s watch read 11:59 pm as he and Mabel sat on the stairs facing the parlor. He’d brought along the fire poker for defense. Sure, robots aren’t meltable, but a metal stick was a metal stick. Mabel had volunteered her mini-golf club, but she had yet to actually get it. It was still packed.

He’d been intensely staring down the hall since Stan had gone to bed. The parlor room that had once held haunted wax figures, now held haunted robots, and he wasn’t going to be caught off guard again. It was too bad that Wax Sherlock Holmes’ sword had mysteriously disappeared, because that would have been useful. So far, he hadn’t heard anything, but he wasn’t gonna just walk away a mere hour in. It was gonna be an all-nighter tonight. At least he had plenty to think about; for example, if enough paranormal entities gather in a room for long enough, does the room stay haunted when they leave?

“Dipperrrr,” Mabel groan-whispered, making him jump, “I’m bored , why don’t we just go check it out? Then we’ll know for sure that they’re totally not evil and go to bed.”

“Because, Mabel,” he whispered back, “ if they are evil, they’ll stuff us in their suits or something! Or… or, I dunno, sacrifice us to ghosts!”

“But it’s been a whole hour! And why would they eat us? They’re so cute and cuddly! That’s not evil.”

“It’s not even midnight yet and they are definitely not cute! They're creepy! The fox guy looks like he could fight a multi-bear!”

Mabel was surely about to say something, probably compromising with making Mabel juice, which was a stupid idea- the robots would hear the blender- but before she could say anything, there was a thud… from the parlor. Dipper placed a finger on his lips and gave her a look . Mostly one that said ‘I told you so’. She huffed.

A quiet, “Did you hear that?” came from the room. Muffled voices followed, then heavy, dull thumps.

Suddenly, a fire poker felt woefully insufficient. Without thinking, Dipper grabbed Mabel’s hand and started up the stairs- maybe they could barricade themselves in and wait them out! 

“Dipper, we can’t just leave!” Mabel protested, barely whispering, and stopped at the top of the steps, the low, soft thuds still in the background,  “They haven’t done anything evil!”

“But if they do, we can’t let them see us!”

“Wasn’t the whole point of watching the door to see if they’re evil?” Mabel said, “Talking isn't evil!”

“That doesn’t mean we should talk to them!”

So caught up in their back and forth, they didn’t notice the thumps had stopped. Standing at the foot of the stairs was the giant purple rabbit, tall enough to be looking them in the eyes with glowing, chipped pink ones. The large purple head tilted to the right with a whine of rusty metal, ears with it. The jaw, covered in moldy fabric, creaked open and static poured out. 

Dipper had seen enough.

He launched up the stairs, dragging Mabel by the sleeve of her nightgown. Dipper booked it to their room and slammed the door shut behind them, backing towards the beds and listening for approaching evil robots.

"Bro-bro, he was just saying 'hi'! …I think." Mabel said, looking between him and the door, worried.

“He snuck up on us!” Dipper protested, grabbing his nightstand, “Help me push this in front of the door! We just have to make it till sunrise-” 

“Dipper, c’mon, ‘hi’s’ are friendly! He’s not evil, he’s just rusty.”

“We don’t know that! He didn’t actually say anything!”

Mabel huffed and scowled at him, “We didn’t even give him a chance! If they want to be friendly, so should we!” And with that, she skirted around Dipper and his nightstand before he could push it any further, opened the door, and left.

“Mabel!” Dipper yelped, “Get back here!”

But she was already gone.

Dipper flew out the door and followed her, poker at the ready, intent on dragging her back before they could get eaten or stuffed inside a suit or whatever. But, she hadn’t gone far. Crouched behind the stair railing, Mabel was peering at the floor below, leaning forward with her hands pressed on the wooden poles. She noticed Dipper and waved him over. 

It seemed his twin wasn’t completely crazy after all.

Listen, she mouthed as he got closer and pointed down.

At the bottom of the stairs, Dipper saw the silhouettes of all four of them, the rabbit, chicken-duck thing, bear, and fox. His heart sank. This was bad, so bad! They were practically out in the open, and Dipper didn’t know their weakness yet! If all four of them found him and Mabel, they were toast! Unless- maybe water? Water and electronics don’t mix, right? 

Dipper tried to slink down the hall to the bathroom, a plan already half formed, but Mabel snagged him by the wrist and gestured back down. After a second of tugging to no avail, he took another look. The robots were huddled in a circle, whispering. Their conversation drifted up, catching Dipper’s attention before he could continue getting away from his stubborn sister.

“Mr. Pines didn’t say nothin’ ‘bout havin’ littlin’s in the house,” the bear said lowly, squinting up the stairs. Dipper’s heart beat fast, but its eyes slid right over them. 

All of their eyes were glowing just like the rabbit’s, casting an eerie shadow on their faces. Blue eyes, pink, purple, and one lone golden. For some reason, the bear bot also had a glowing mouth.

“Freddy, I swear, there were two of ‘em right there! Didn’t you guys hear them talking?” the rabbit shout-whispered, voice interlaced with static. The large bunny ears followed its head as it gestured with a jerky arm up the stairs. “About this tall, around the same age, brown hair and eyes- twins maybe? And they went up there!” 

“But what‘re they doin’ here? Are they Stan’s?” the bird asked, scratching her head.

“Maybe they’re Soos’ little mateys?” said the fox.

Dipper gave Mabel a flat look and she raised an eyebrow back. Soos’ kids? Really?

“Yeah, I’m gonna haveta disagree with you there, Foxy,” the rabbit said, crossing his arms, “I don’t think Soos even has a girlfriend.”

Well, now that wasn’t fair; Soos was a perfectly likable guy, just… a little atypical.

“Oh, ye wouldn’t know the first thing ‘bout tha’, Bonnie,” the fox griped and mirrored its fellow bot, snagging some fur with its hook.

“Wha- I would too!”

“Nah-uh! Ye never had a girlfriend, how would ye know?”

“I have eyes , unlike you, you rust bucket!” the rabbit, ‘Bonnie’, said. “Chica, you know what I’m talking about, right?”

“Leave me outta this one, fellas.” ‘Chica’ sighed, running a wing across her beak.

“Quiet you three,” Freddy, who had to be the bear, hushed, putting his paws on his hips, “Regardless of whose kids they are, they’re still scared. We need to talk to ‘em-  explain what’s goin’ on and ask who they are. If they aren’t Mr. Pines’ we gotta make sure they get home okay. Got it?”

At that, the other three simmered down and assented.

“Alright,” Bonnie said, “Who talks to ‘em?”

“Well, I was thinkin’ you , Bonnie,” Freddy replied, turning to give the rabbit a look Dipper was all-to-familiar with.

“Wha- but I scared them in the first place, they’ll just freak out!”

“That  just means you need t’ apologize. Kids understand.”

“Freddyyyy-“

“Don’t ‘Freddy’ me, get up there and tell ‘em you’re sorry fer spookin’ ‘em. I’m sure they’ll get it. Just the consequences of being rusty.”

“I’m pretty sure one of ‘em was gonna attack me or something!”

Well, that might have been true, but in Dipper’s defense Bonnie wouldn’t know that.

“Then I’ll go with ya, but you’re doin’ the talkin’.”

Mabel lightly punched Dipper on the shoulder and gestured down to the group as the bear and the rabbit continued bickering.

“Dipper, let’s go say ‘hey’!” she whispered, grinning at him, “You can’t still think they’re evil?”

No, he realized, they probably weren’t. Killer robots wouldn’t gripe at each other or negotiate, or try to explain things. Even adults sometimes forgot twelve year olds could put two and two together.

“Okay, fine, we’ll talk to them” he whispered back, “but if anything goes wrong, we go back to the room and barricade the door. Deal?”

“Deal!”

And with that, Mabel grabbed him by the sleeve and tugged them down the stairs.

“Hi!” Mabel said, loud enough to wake the dead. Bonnie, who hadn’t been facing the stairs, lept about a foot in the air and shook the house when he landed. Dipper didn’t realize they were that sturdy- it was both impressive and terrifying. He pointedly did not think about how easily they could break down a door. 

“I’m Mabel and this is my brother Dipper and we’re sorry for running away! You were just kind of scary!”

“ Jiminy Christmas! Where’d you come from!?” Bonnie said, holding a furry purple paw to his chest. Dipper heard the sound of an old rusty fan running like mad.

‘Freddy’ gave them a grin and bent down in front of them on one knee. It was probably an attempt to get closer to their level, but it didn’t do much- he was still taller than them by at least a foot. “You must be the kids Bonnie was talkin’ about! Nice to meetcha, Mabel and Dipper,” he said with a tip of a ratty black top hat.

Mabel squealed and leapt on the big bear, hugging him around the middle. “Your hat is so dapper! Such a gentleman!”

“Well, ain’t you a sweet little lady!” Freddy said, though his eyes were a little wide and his hands hovered in the air, unsure. Chica raised a wing to her mouth, but her eyes looked delighted.

Bonnie gave Dipper his own sheepish look. “I’m sorry for scaring you guys, honest. Voice box glitched a little.”

“It’s alright,” Dipper said and rubbed the back of his neck, “Happens to everyone… I guess.”

Foxy ambled over, his one eye alight with curiosity. “Who might you be little matey? I believe we’ve all been introduced to yer companion over thar.”

“Oh- uh, I’m Dipper. Mabel’s my sister.”

“We’re twins!” She interjected, still wrapped around Freddy, who himself looked very lost, but not upset about it.

“Called it!” said the rabbit.

Looking at them now, Dipper could see all the stickers and patches that Mabel had peppered them with when she was helping Stan and Soos. Their fake fur was still old and worn, but being able to actually see it up close felt… normal. A bit more real and a little less horror movie. A bright rainbow stitched here and there on their noses, or bellies, or ears did a lot to subtract from the creep factor too.

Freddy finally prodded Mabel off and placed her on the floor with nary a sound. “So, you two are Stan’s kids?”

Mabel snort-laughed, “No, he’s our Grunkle!”

“What’s a ‘Grunkle’?” asked Chica.

“It’s short for great-uncle,” said Dipper, “We’re staying at his place all summer.”

“Ya mean this ain’t yer real ship?”

“Nah, our parents wanted us to get some ‘fresh air’ or something. So, here we are.”

The four actually looked a little put out at that. Did they want Dipper and Mabel to stay?

“It’s been great!” said Mabel, “I had a boyfriend who turned out to be gnomes, which was weird, but then we got to be cool and drive the golf cart around and kick their butts, so it all worked out!”

“Just gotta watch out for the homicidal wax figures and mechanical lake monsters,” Dipper interjected.

“Yeah, but we got to ride Soos’s boat and I got to buy a barrel of industrial glitter for my greatest creation- Wax Grunkle Stan!”

Mabel and Dipper went back and forth for a while, talking about their various adventures. As they carried on, Dipper noted the four bots' eyes getting wider and wider. It was kind of ironic how incredulous they looked about the existence of a psychic child when they themselves were sentient animatronics scavenged from a haunted 80s diner. Foxy was practically vibrating out of his furs, his long, pointed fox ears locked intently in their direction, fit to burst. They’d have to bring him along sometime, that was certain.

The six of them were so wrapped up in talking that the clock striking one made them all jump.

Freddy recovered first from the scare and gave a small sigh, “I think we’ve been keeping y’all up well past your bedtime.”

“Naaah, it’s fine,” Mabel said with a yawn, “You guys are cool! We can hang…”

“Yeah,” Dipper said, yawning as his sister did,  “We’ve been doing all the talking but you guys haven’t said anything.”

Freddy tutted and nudged them in the direction of the stairs, “There’ll be all summer for that. You kiddos best get to bed, we don’t want’cher Grunkle wringing ya’ out for stayin’ up.”

“But-”

“No buts. Go on and get- we’ll be here in th’ mornin’.”

“We will?” Bonnie said, eyes bright.

“I reckon we will,” Freddy said, ruffling Mabel’s hair with a grin, “Besides, who’d wanna leave these littlin’s that can outwit gnomes and psychics and all kinds of spookums?”

Dipper huffed a little, not happy at the dismissal. “You’d better not forget,” he said as he rubbed his eyes, “I got some questions I wanna ask…”

“An’ you will. Sweet dreams, you too.”

“Aye!” said Foxy, “May yer sleepin’ be as adventurous as yer wakin’!”

Goodnights were exchanged, and both groups retired to their respective quarters. Dipper, though not a hundred percent convinced they weren’t hiding something, felt a lot better about having them in the house. They weren’t so bad.

Mabel seemed to pick up on his thoughts and said, “Aren’t you glad we didn’t barricade the door?”

Dipper hopped into bed and chuckled. “Guess so. I just wish I’d gotten to ask them about their restaurant.”

Mabel shrugged and flopped onto her mattress, “There’s always tomorrow!”

“Goodnight, doofus.”

“‘Night, doofus.”

And the two of them slept well, despite their new guests. Though Dipper wasn’t sure what it would be like sharing the Shack with four robotic occupants, at least he was pretty certain they meant well. What kind of secrets they had, or what really happened over twenty years ago could wait another day.