Archive of Our Own ^beta

Attempt 1. 

Location: Fazbear’s Fright.

Fire started: Security office.

Time: 5:16 am

Arsonist: M. M. Afton.

At this point, he had really started to hope that he would never succeed at this. That the cold hands of death would drag him down to hell before his goal was ever reached.

Michael was just tired. Pizzeria after pizzeria. Night-shift after night-shift. It never lead anywhere.

He couldn’t find the original animatronics. He couldn’t find his siblings. His father.

There was nothing. 

And yet, he kept going.

He had no desire to move forward, but still he did.

It was probably due to his guilt. Or maybe he simply didn't have anything else to do and this was the only possible thing to connect to his past life.

His trainwreck of a past life that he clung onto despite every force on this wretched earth telling him not to.

As the years flew by, Michael just got more and more convinced that the universe was working against him from the moment he was born.

He’d burned through every variation of the names Michael, Fritz, Afton and Smith known to man at this point but eventually he had just stopped caring.

So when he signed up to work at Fazbear's Fright, he used his real name.

The company hadn’t seemed to care. Michael was pretty sure they had just figured he was some other guy with the first name Michael and the last name Afton.

After all, he looked quite drastically different than he had when he’d officially been reported missing.

To say this was the most disgusting place he’d worked at would be an understatement. Not necessarily from a cleanliness standard, he’s been in way dirtier places than this one, but from a moral one.

Capitalizing from deaths he knew to be real was beyond disgusting. It was inhumane.

But still, he said nothing as he applied for the position.

He’d expected it to be like any other job before it. Go in, work for a week, find nothing and inevitably either quit or get fired.

In all honesty, a small part of him had started to hope that it would stay that way forever. That he’d fully die before finding them. It would hurt less at the very least.

But for the first time in decades, Michael Afton was going to be faced with results.

Horrifyingly, bone chilling, life altering results.

The first night had brought forth nothing new. Well, nothing except his ever growing desire to burn this place to the ground. 

It did its job as a horror attraction pretty well, but Michael had seen worse.

And nothing could be worse than the real thing.

So when his shift ended at the arrival of 6 am, he went on exploring a bit.

It didn’t take him long to figure out these broken animatronics were the real deal.

It felt almost underwhelming. When you’ve searched for something for so long, finding it should be a blessing but Michael couldn’t find himself feeling more than a small sting in his chest that he was one step closer to finishing the job.

Even upon finding Fredbear; Evan , he couldn’t quite make his emotions work. He cried, he knew that, but the tears felt void.

God knows how many tears he’d spent on Evan throughout his lifetime.

He didn’t exactly know what to do now that he’d found them. All he knew is that he needed to burn them somehow.

So after he came back to his apartment that morning, he started making arrangements to move them somewhere where he could swiftly take care of them. Free their souls and cause the most minimal amount of damages.

The next few nights would fully throw that plan out the window.

Springbonnie was there the second night.

Michael had a hatred for Springbonnie that could be rivaled by no other. Even more than Fredbear, he hated that stupid bunny.

But he also knew that no soul had inhabited it.

But here it was, staring at him through the glass with something akin to a grin on its inanimate face.

Michael hadn’t realized it at first, Springbonnie probably didn’t either, but it didn’t take too long to put the pieces together.

If he were to ignore the hallucinations caused by the shit ventilation mixed with his fragile state of mind, saying that that damn bunny was his biggest problem would be an understatement.

He felt like he was back in 1995, desperately trying his best to keep the animatronics out of the office, as he shuffled between monitoring the cameras and slamming the doors to the hallway shut.

It wasn’t until the fourth night that it had happened.

Springbonnie had been keeping up with the habit of staring at Michael through the glass, when something akin to recognition flashed across its dead face.

And worse yet, Michael heard it speak for the first time.

A mangled broken voice. But he had never before heard something so terrifying.

“...Michael?”

And it clicked.

He was staring at the abomination that his father had become.

Throughout his years of pizzeria-hopping, his father had both been in the back and forefront of his mind.

His main goal was to find him, but he didn’t want to think about what he’d do if he actually did.

But there he was, his father, dead and standing in front of him.

And William laughed.

He laughed like he so often did before. It was manic and unruly, coupled by the sounds of old scraping and rusting metal, coming from the animatronics.

And all Michael could do was sit frozen and watch as his father howled with laughter on the other side.

And Michael found himself chuckling with him.

Springbonnie didn’t come back for him that night.

Back in the morning, Michael had sat in his apartment, eyes glued to the wall.

Any prior plans of his were thrown out the window now that his father had been thrown into the mix. 

He didn’t know how he had changed in the years since he last saw him. How he died and how it had affected him.

Though he couldn’t help but to laugh at the dramatic irony of it.

His father, who had cut so many lives short and trapped so many people in those damn animatronics, was now wandering around in the very suit he used to kill in.

Michael knew how dangerous William Afton was. He had experienced it firsthand on so many occasions. So he more than anyone knew that there was no peaceful way to go about this.

He was going to burn that place to the ground, with father still inside.

He brought a lighter and some fuel on the fifth night. 

He was taking absolutely no chances with this. His father would not be allowed to get out of here and that was final.

He would just have to wait for the right opportunity. Wait for his father to strike.

Michael knew his father more than William would ever admit. He knew he would come for him tonight, ready to finally rid himself of his greatest mistake.

The office had been relatively quiet the first hour, probably to lull him into some sort of false sense of security. Michael knew better, of course.

He’d used the opportunity to splash some lighter fluid all over the floor as well as the walls. They were cheap and thin and would burn easily. If all went well, Michael could probably lock his father in the office and let him burn inside, taking the building, and by extension the rest of the broken animatronics, with him.

But Michael had started to doubt his own fate. 

After all, there was a chance that he wouldn’t make it.

He was only trying to be realistic as he confronted that fact. He may not be able to escape the fire and end up passing out due to inhaling too much smoke. Maybe his father would kill him before he even had a chance to flee.

His father killing him was the worst case scenario. Michael didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. He didn’t know just how aware his father was in there, but it was enough for him to at the very least recognize Michael.

His work wouldn’t be done if he made it out though. There was still Ennard. There was still Charlie and Elizabeth.

He’d have to move away if he made it out alive. The authorities would definitely come after him for arson if he didn’t.

He’d cross that bridge when he came to it.

Springbonnie, or Springtrap, as Michael had dubbed it as the previous name just didn’t ring right anymore, finally made his way to him. 

Michael had expected an immediate attack, but was surprised as he took his usual place by the window.

And then he started speaking.

“I knew you would come back.”

Michael stiffened. He could see the animatronic’s mouth moving, along with the grizzly sight of the mouth of the corpse inside of it doing so too.

“We Afton’s are quite good at that, aren’t we,” he mused, “Death can’t hold us down for very long.”

Michael’s hand instinctively went up to his face, brushing against his dead and scarred skin.

“But you know it can’t stay that way,” Springtrap shook his head, “Though I am truly sad about this, my son. We could have been so much more together, but still, you decided to disobey everything I say and ruin everything I worked for.”

He hummed, as his eyes bore into Michael’s soul, studying him from the inside out. Michael knew he could sense his fear.

“Though I suppose it doesn't matter too much now, does it? After all, you will soon be rendered inconsequential. I will live forever. You will be but an inconvenience I look back upon.”

Michael stayed quiet.

Springtrap frowned.

“What? Got nothing to say to your old man? It’s been so long. Let me hear your voice for just one last time.”

“I-” Michael crooked, forcing his voice out of his throat, obeying his fathers command, “How- What happened to you?”

“Oh?” Springrap laughed, his hands pushing harder against the glass, “Curious are you? You always did ask too many questions. But very well, if you must know, some people I angered back in the day came back to haunt me,” his grin widened slightly, like the choice of words humored him, “But I’m thankful for them. Really I am! Without them, I wouldn’t be able to be this. I wouldn’t be so… alive. ”

Michael abruptly stood up as he noticed his father move towards the office.

“I believe we have postponed this for long enough.” He mused, and for the first time Michael saw him standing tall in the doorway to the office.

William had always been tall, towering over Michael at every opportunity. Sure, Michael himself was above average height, but his father had always had a few extra centimeters on him.

But now, with the metal at the bottom of his feet and the giant skull and rabbit ears, William’s silhouette truly looked massive.

Michael stood in front of the office desk, lighter hidden behind his back. 

He just needed his father inside. That was all.

Springtrap lifted his head.

“Goodbye Michael.”

He lunged.

Michael dropped the lighter and ran.

The flames sprung up immediately, spreading from the floor to the wall in seconds, painting the room in a warm, horrible, yet beautiful veit of orange and yellow.

Springtrap had but a moment to react, forcing himself to come to a halt as to not dive straight into the flames. The second of hesitation from the undead animatronic was enough for Michael.

He made a mad sprint to the door, giving himself just a moment to regain his balance as he moved to slam the door shut.

Unfortunately, Springtrap was faster.

Just before the door could be properly closed, he jammed his fingers between the hinges, keeping it just open enough to break through it.

The office had fully gone up in flames now, the paper-like walls doing a great job at keeping the fire spreading.

Soon the whole building would be aflame. That they both knew.

“Stay back!” Michael yelled, despite knowing it was futile. His father never listened to his cries.

Instead, his head snapped up, rage swirling around in his eyes.

“Oh, you little-”

He didn’t finish his sentence, jumping at Michael arms outstretched, ready to either beat or choke him to death.

Michael got but a second to dodge his blow, colliding with the ground, he could immediately feel his palms burn from the heat, but he didn’t have any time to dwell on it.

The fire had spread to the hallway already.

Springtrap’s hand had collided with one of the metal pipes in the wall, knocking it clean off. He howled in anger.

“You're not getting out of here! You are never getting out of here! You will burn in this fire of your own making!!!” he screamed as he managed to land a hit straight into Michael’s stomach. 

Michael wheezed. It felt like air had just been pumped out of him and forced out of his mouth.

His father kicked again.

He wasn't going to make it.

And again.

Michael was going to die in here.

And-

Michael’s eyes caught the metal pipe laying on the ground.

Before his father had a chance to deliver another blow, Michael grabbed onto the warm pipe, swinging it with all his might.

It landed straight on his knee, a gnarly cracking sound echoing across the room. He’d caught the man completely off guard, so his balance was immediately lost and he fell to the ground.

Michael wouldn't let him get back up so easily.

He swung again, hitting his father in the head. And then again. And again. And soon he couldn’t stop. He could feel the heat all around him, suffocating him, but still he didn’t move.

He wouldn’t stop until he’d made sure that his father wouldn’t be able to get out.

Eventually, the smoke became too much. He dropped the pipe, coughing. His chest felt like it was filling up and there was no way for him to breathe. He didn’t even know how he could breathe, considering he had no functioning lungs, but that didn’t exactly matter when he could feel himself slipping by the minute.

He’d have to get out of here.

There was an exit way back in the building that he was sure he could get through. He picked up the pipe from the floor and started sprinting towards it, leaving his father behind in the building that was now fully engulfed in flames.

The door was made of glass so he could see the outside clear as day. There were no fire trucks there yet, but Michael was sure they would be here soon. After all, he was sure the smoke rising up from the building could be seen for miles.

Swinging the pipe, he shattered it into a million pieces.

As soon as the opening was big enough, Michael discarded the pipe and made his way outside, taking in the clean air.

He fell to his knees as he heaved. His chest and stomach hurt still from the beating he’d received from Springtrap, but he was still alive.

Well, as alive as he could be.

He felt overwhelmed. The souls of the children must still be inside, burning, being granted freedom.

Evan was being granted freedom.

And William? All Michael asked for was that his fires down in hell would burn even brighter than the ones that dragged him down there.

Michael wasn't a religious man. He didn’t exactly believe that there was a hell.

But for his father he would gladly make an exception in his faith.

He forced himself to stand, looking up at the flames and smoke as it danced around, racing up so high that the sky had no choice but to adapt to its many colors.

Who knew that the end of a tragedy could be so beautiful?

He turned away. As much as he wanted to say it was over, he knew it was not.

But at the moment, all he could feel was the relief at the fact that the monster was dead.

His father was gone for good. He was sure of it.

Attempt 2. 

Location: Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza Place.

Fire started: Within walls.

Time: 6:00 am

Arsonist: H. Emily.

We Afton’s are quite good at that, aren’t we? Death can’t hold us down for very long.

He'd been foolish. 

He hadn’t really known what to do after leaving Fazbear's Fright. Ennard was something he really did have no leads on or any indication where it could have gone.

He tried looking into sewer anomalies and ended up getting dragged into several conspiracy theory blogs on the internet, all claiming they could help him with his search.

They never helped.

Somehow, he felt more weighed down than before. 

He knew he’d set the souls free. He knew he’d defeated the walking menace that was his father, and yet he couldn’t find it in himself to feel any fulfillment from it.

But at least he’d had something to go off on. Jumping from restaurant to restaurant wouldn't work this time around. Michael doubted Ennard would be hiding there.

He was totally powerless for the entire next year.

His money was running dry. Odd jobs could only get him so far and bills were constantly on the rise. Michael suspected the only reason he’d managed to scrape by was that, being half-dead, he didn’t need to pay for some of the basic needs he’d usually have to.

Things like food. 

He missed eating.

He’d been late paying rent this month again. He was sure his landlord would kick him out soon if he kept it up.

But letting his mind wander away from it, he browsed the day’s newspaper, trying to find something that might catch his eye.

And that’s where he saw the ad.

It wasn’t flashy or in your face in any way. It was just one small ad surrounded by a cluster of others.

But to Michael, the words written stuck out like a sore thumb.

It was an ad for a new Fazbear restaurant.

Opened by none other than Henry Emily.

Michael had to read it over a hundred times to truly convince his brain of what he was seeing.

He thought Henry had given up the franchise forever. He thought the man had realized what horrors it had caused and never again so much as entertained the idea of coming near one ever again.

But Michael knew that Henry Emily was a smart man. Odds are he was planning something.

So Michael Afton did what he always did, and applied for a job at the new and hopefully last Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria.

He hadn’t seen Henry in years at this point. Never before had he been so nervous before an interview for a job he knew he would get.

Henry hadn’t recognized him at first. That was understandable. After all, time hadn’t done him any favors. But all Michael had to do was speak and recognition flashed through the man’s eyes.

Suffice to say, that interview had ended with both of them shedding their fair share of tears.

Michael got three things that night. A job. A reunion. And answers.

Henry did indeed have a plan. One that would surely erase all William had done once and for all.

The restaurant would be specifically designed to lure in the two animatronics that still had souls in them. Ennard and the Puppet.

Henry had apparently been working on this plan for years now, but hadn’t fully committed to it until he heard the news of Fazbear Frights burning down. Henry had immediately clocked onto the fact that Michael was the one who’d started it.

It made Michael feel equally proud of himself and embarrassed.

The years had done a number on Henry appearance wise. It was like all traces of the positivity and love for life he’d once held had been brutally ripped out of him one tragedy at a time.

But still, he hadn’t lost his determination and perseverance. Eyes that had once bore the warmth of a man who was truly satisfied with life had now been replaced by a fiery sense of justice that would not be put out until their task was complete.

They were going to burn the building to the ground with the animatronics inside.

Everything was set up. The false ads. The interior. All methods of luring.

And of course, there were also the walls. Capable of bringing the entire establishment aflame with the click of a button.

It wasn’t long until Michael realized Henry’s true intent with having it designed that way.

“You're not planning on getting out… are you.”

And Henry had turned to him, for the first time showing just how truly defeated and tired he really was.

“What else is there left for me Michael? If my daughter is leaving I am going with her.”

Michael wished he could argue with him, but even if he wanted to, he couldn’t. The whole plan relied on Henry activating the fire from within the building.

If anyone deserved to live, it was Henry, not Michael. Henry had been a constant source of joy in his childhood. Probably the only one he had.

He didn’t deserve to suffer so much.

All Michael could do for him now was follow the plan.

***

Ennard had shown up first.

Or, it wasn’t Ennard.

Baby was missing. Elizabeth was missing.

It had been decades, Michael knew he shouldn’t be surprised. But he was.

He couldn’t help but be scared for his sister. How long had they been separated? What was she doing? Was she just a cluster of wires in some sewer unable to move for years?!

…he couldn’t be thinking like this. Not now.

He made it through the night with the monster that took over his body lurking just around the corner.

Somehow, he didn’t feel scared. This was it after all. This was the end. Just a few more nights and it would all be over.

He’d never actually run one of these restaurants, so when day came he didn’t exactly know what he was doing.

Parents were complaining. Children were running around. Everything he’d bought to decorate was cheap and the Pizza was the definition of mediocre.

He felt more stressed during the day than he had the night prior. 

Funny how desensitized he’d become to the horrors of the night that the thing that made him the most anxious was some parent complaining that the chairs may be a safety hazard to sit on.

Keep this place up and running till Saturday. That’s what Henry had told him anyway.

Easy peasy. Just wait for Charlie and Elizabeth and everything would be okay.

That’s what he told himself as he opened the backdoor to find tonight's scrap.

Nothing could have prepared Michael for what met his eyes as he opened the door.

Springtrap.

Sitting sprawled out in the alleyway, even more busted up and broken than before.

Michael could only stare. His face bore no expression. His mind had been brought to a halt, all thoughts numbed by the ghost coming back to haunt him once again.

The universe seemed to have made his torment its game.

Michael didn’t know how he had possibly escaped the fire. He’d done all he could to make sure he’d be burned alive in there.

It was staring him in the face. That word. His father had called him on many occasions. He’d agreed with him in the past, but not until now did its meaning truly apply to him.

A failure.

That’s what he was.

He’d failed.

Who knows how many people his father hurt while he was on the loose? How many recently reported child disappearances had been because of him?

Fuck, Michael hadn’t stopped him. He’d set him free to hurt others again.

Well, not again.

No way in hell  would he let that happen again.

William Afton may have won this time around, but Michael wasn’t alone now. 

Henry would make sure that the monster would burn.

So Michael brought him inside, ready to salvage all he could. Ready for round 2.

Scraptrap, which Michael dubbed him this time around, made no moves for a long time. He had to fend him off during the night but Michael suspected his father wasn’t really in his right mind after all his aimless wanderings.

Well, it’s not like he had ever been in his right mind.

Michael prayed it would stay that way. He didn’t want to hear a single word more from his father ever again. All he wanted was for him to die and stay dead.

If Michael had learned anything from his dad then he knew that things wouldn’t be so simple.

Circus Baby showed up the next night.

Michael had met the animatronic outside with shock. The last he saw her she’d been nothing but an empty shell, her real consciousness in Ennard’s towering form.

But somehow she looked worse now, and Michael didn’t just mean the rust. She looked deliberately terrifying. Like whoever put her back together had taken extra steps to make sure she would scare whoever came within ten feet of her.

Michael truly hoped that Lizzie hadn’t done this to herself. 

He knew she was too far gone. Really, he did. But he couldn’t help but hope that somehow, someway, she still remembered him as her brother.

Those thoughts would only hurt him in the long run, he knew.

And lastly, there was Lefty.

Henry had explained the basic gist of Lefty to Michael. A host for the puppet specifically designed to bring her here.

Michael thinks Henry could probably have made it a little less intimidating, but compared to the others, it wasn’t that big of a deal.

He had a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that this was what remained of Charlie. The sweet girl who was always ready to listen to anyone and bore a smile that could light up a dark room.

The other animatronics he’d had a chance to examine upclose in the past, but Lefty was completely new. Michael didn’t exactly understand his godfather's fascination to make all robots bear-shaped, but at this point he had no more room for him to complain.

By the beginning of the last day Michael had come to regret how much effort he’d put into decorating the restaurant. It had actually started to look semi-decent. He didn’t let his mind dwell on it for too long, however, as he knew it would all go up in flames soon.

He decided to visit Henry in his office just one last time.

Cracking open the door, he was met with the man sitting in his office chair, staring at the wall ahead of him, seeming lost in thought.

“Henry?” Michael began.

The man turned to face him.

“What is it Michael?” he asked, seeming tired, but even so he bore a smile.

“Tonight's the night…” Michael sighed.

Henry nodded solemnly.

“I’ve waited a while for this son, don’t try to discourage me. This is what I want.”

Michael clenched his fist, keeping his eyes on the ground.

“That’s not what I came here to talk to you about…”

“Oh? Then what is it?”

Michael sighed. He knew Henry would understand, but he also knew that he wouldn’t exactly approve.

Henry had told Michael before that he should have been his father instead of William. And Michael had wished so too. But there was no way for that silly dream to become a reality now.

There was always an air of ‘what if?’ What if Henry had figured out the extent of William’s depravity before it was too late? Had things turned out better for them? Would Evan, Elizabeth and Charlotte still be alive?

The amount of time the two of them must have wondered that might soon be longer than a lifetime.

“I have nothing Henry.” Michael began, “I have spent all my life trying to fix what my father did. I didn’t have anyone else. It was just this.”

Michael looked to meet his eyes. There was something akin to disappointment and understanding both swirling around in his gaze.

“I want to be with my family again. You are the only one left and tomorrow…” he stopped himself from speaking any further. 

Henry slowly nodded, breaking eye contact with a sigh.

“Okay then. Goodbye Michael. Though I suspect we’ll see each other sooner than I’d like.”

Michael smiled.

“Thank you Henry.”

He was ready for tonight’s party.

***

Today was the day.

In just a few minutes the nightmare would be over.

Everything would be over.

He had full faith in the fact that Henry had understood when he meant earlier. And even if he didn’t, he couldn’t exactly stop what was coming.

Michael was going to die here, and that was the most comforting thought he’d had in years.

Leaning back in his office chair, he patiently waited for the systems to stop and the whole place to go up in flames. It was quiet, nothing but the hum of the air conditioning to listen to.

Until the faint sound of scraping metal snapped him out of his trance.

It was familiar, he’d heard it before many times. Something was in the vents.

But there was something different this time around. All the systems were down.

That made sense, of course. Henry had planned to shut off all potential distracting energy in the building so everything would be focused on starting the fire.

But Michael had failed to consider how that would affect him.

There was nothing he could do to get whatever creature steadily approaching in the vents to leave.

He quickly stood up. Running out into the main area had started to seem a lot more appealing than it had previously. He’d hoped to stay in the office during the fire as it was a tighter space and would likely suffocate him faster.

But with an angry animatronic in his room, that wouldn't happen. It would kill him before the fire could even reach him.

He refused to be killed by an animatronic.

But what he failed to realize was just how close it really was.

Turning to the door, ready to sprint out of this godforsaken office, something cold and thin stopped him.

It wrapped around his arm, colder to the touch than even his own skin.

“ I f-found you!” 

Molten Freddy’s voice came from behind him. Staticy and broken, yet sounding ecstatic.

“ Wouldn’t you l-like to continue where w-we left off? ” It questioned. Michael didn't dare turn back. He tried yanking his arm back but all it did was make the robot tighten its hold with a laugh.

“ You’ll b-be okay! We just want to be free for o-one m-more time! Won't you let us? ”

Oh hell fucking no.

Michael could barely believe what he was hearing.

They wanted to use his body again like they did when he was scooped.

He thought they had enough of him when they threw him out on the sidewalk like a piece of trash, but apparently they were so desperate for a host that they’d be willing to use him again for round two.

He didn’t want that. By god all he wanted was for this madness to just be over.

So he yanked, he clawed and ripped at the metallic wire keeping his hand in place. It didn’t do anything. The animatronic had the clear high ground as it pulled itself from the vent.

Michael could feel his breath grow ragged, wanting nothing more than for Henry to just start the damn fire.

“ You are ours now! ”

Another animatronic howl came from the vent beside them.

Both Michael and Molten Freddy’s attention was immediately shifted to the side.

In an instant, the cause became clear.

Something black and giant launched itself from the vent.

It took Michael a second to recognize the form of Lefty as the hollow bear lunged itself at Molten Freddy at lightning speed.

The mess of wires didn’t know what hit them as they immediately let go of Michael’s arm, focusing all its attention on their attacker.

Lefty’s mouth opened wide and a pair of slender arms flew out, holding Molten Freddy back with its sharp fingers as it wriggled around helplessly, trying to escape her grasp.

Michael didn’t have a second to recover as Charlie's voice invaded his mind.

“ GO! ”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

Booking it out of the office, he reached the hallway, locking the door as soon as he did. He felt horrible leaving the puppet in there with the amalgamation that was what remained of Ennard, but he was sure that if he didn’t that thing would have done whatever it could to repeat its little scooping stunt from years prior.

The hallway was barren, besides an intercom in the corner, but what Michael noticed first and foremost was that it was still cold. It wasn’t 6 am yet. 

He could still hear struggling on the other side of the door, and Molten Freddy’s cries of anger. It wasn’t exactly comforting.

He could wait for things out here. This wasn’t exactly an ideal place to die, but if dying here meant dying in the arms of a flame rather than the ones of murderous anthropomorphic robots, then he was taking his chances.

Static.

He could hear static coming from the hallway’s intercom.

With wide eyes Michael realized that now must be the time. 

Henry was finally putting an end to this. He didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry.

Unfortunately, the voice that rang out wasn’t one belonging to Henry Emily.

“You played right into our hands. Did you really think that this job just fell out of the sky for you?”

No.

No it couldn’t be.

“No. This was a gift. For us. You gathered them all together, in one place. Just like he asked you to. All of those little souls, in one place. Just for us. A gift.”

It was Scrap Baby’s voice, clear as day.

Did she intercept the building's whole system or just the intercom?

Oh god, what if she’d reached Henry.

What if she’d killed Henry.

What if everything they’d worked for had been for nothing and Baby now had the ability to take over this whole thing.

They’d keep killing people.

His father would keep killing people.

Michael couldn't breathe.

“Now, we can do what we were created to do. And be complete. I will make you proud, daddy.”

Of course. It all went back to William Afton. He couldn’t blame Elizabeth for this. She’d been corrupted by their fathers madness.

It always came back to William fucking Afton.

“Watch, listen, and be full.”

Static again, this time louder. Michael had to cover his ears as the sound of the static flickered. 

And then came to a halt.

“Connection terminated. I'm sorry to interrupt you, Elizabeth. If you still even remember that name. But I'm afraid you've been misinformed.”

The tears of joy that spilled from Michael’s eyes were immediate.

He’d done it. Whatever Baby had done, Henry had managed to gain control again.

Michael sank down to his knees, back against the wall. He could immediately feel the warmth as the fire seemed to start up inside the wall behind him. It would very soon spread. 

He was content with this. He was happy

“You are not here to receive a gift. Nor have you been called here by the individual you assume. Although, you have indeed been called. You have all been called here. Into a labyrinth of sounds and smells, misdirection and misfortune. A labyrinth with no exit. A maze with no prize. You don't even realize that you are trapped.”

Beads of sweat had started to form on his forehead. His back felt like it was burning.

“Your lust for blood has driven you in endless circles. Chasing the cries of children in some unseen chamber, always seeming so near. Yet somehow out of reach. But, you will never find them. None of you will. This is where your story ends.”

The fire was noticeable now. It was creeping from underneath, slowly consuming the wall itself. Michael instinctively pushed himself away from the wall, seating himself slumped over further away from the wall.

“And to you, my brave volunteer, who somehow found this job listing not intended for you. Although, there was a way out planned for you, I have a feeling that's not what you want. I have a feeling that you are right where you want to be.”

And that he was. Henry understood. 

Michael would have to thank Henry later if they so happened to see each other again.

Though if there was an afterlife, Michael doubted they’d be going to the same place.

“I am remaining as well. I am nearby. This place will not be remembered and the memory of everything that started this, can finally begin to fade away. As the agony of every tragedy should. And to you monsters trapped in the corridors. Be still. And give up your spirits. They don't belong to you. As for most of you, I believe there is peace and perhaps warmth, waiting for you after the smoke clears.”

He could hear Molten Freddy’s faint screams echo down the corridor. The fire must have gotten to them.

If Charlie was still there, she didn’t make a sound. Michael suspected she’d understood what was going on from the very beginning.

“Although, for one of you, the darkest pit of Hell has opened to swallow you whole. So, don't keep the Devil waiting, old friend.”

Michael laughed.

For once, he hoped the afterlife really was what some people said it was like.

At least that way, his father wouldn’t be at ease in death.

“My daughter, if you can hear me, I knew you would return as well. It's in your nature to protect the innocent. I'm sorry that on that day, the day you were shut out and left to die, no one was there to lift you up in their arms, the way you lifted others into yours. And then, what became of you, I should have known, you wouldn't be content to disappear. Not my daughter. I couldn't save you then.”

Fire had fully engulfed the walls at this point. The intercom broadcasting Henry’s speech had caught fire and Michael couldn’t help but wow at the fact that it still sounded perfect.

It seemed God himself wanted Henry to deliver his final words.

And that he did, as he spoke for the last time.

“So, let me save you now. It's time to rest, for you, and for those you have carried in your arms… This ends. For all of us. End communication.”

And Michael closed his eyes. He was ready. He was ready to die. He was ready to put a stop to this. And he was ready to see his family again.

He sat in the hallway, waiting for the fire to consume him.

…

….

He was snapped out of his trance by a rage-filled howl.

“ MICHAEL!!! ”

And reality came crashing back down on him.

As he whirled his head up he saw him in the cracked opening of the doorway.

His father, William Afton, Springbonnie, Springtrap, whatever name one could call him, he was there.

He couldn’t get into the hallway. That much was clear. But the thought didn't ease Michael’s mind one bit.

His fathers presence alone was enough to make his whole train of thought crash and blow. It was instilled in him as a child and it never left him.

Even in moments like this where he knew his father was powerless.

Michael wished he could gloat. He wished he could stand up and proudly declare that he'd won and William had lost.

And yet he stayed still. Just like he always did. Just like he was taught to do.

Because Michael more than anyone recognized the look his father bore.

It was anger driven so far that rage and fury couldn't ever be adequate enough words to fully describe the madness hidden behind his dead eyes.

" There you are…. " He rasped, his voice contorted by a deafening sound of fire, crinkling with every word.

It sounded almost like a chuckle. 

While some cry tears of joy, William was often one to laugh with hate.

Michael despised it when he did that.

William yanked on the door to the hallway, but it wouldn't budge. It was completely stuck ajar. If he was still human, Michael suspected he could have easily slid through cracks, but his clunky animatronic body was too big this time around, only allowing his arm and head to enter.

It didn’t seem to deter him from speaking though.

" I knew what you were planning. What both of you were planning. I only came here to kill you."

Horrifyingly, his voice seemed to calm down a little bit as he spoke. Teetering on the edge of being soothing.

It made something snap in Michael.

"What do you really want?" He hissed, "This is the end. We are done here. There is nothing left to say!"

William hummed, seemingly surprised at his reaction, though not annoyed.

"Finally saying something, huh? You know, when I first heard of this place I thought it had Henry Emily written all over it. But you were a pleasant surprise alright."

The lower part of his body seemed to be catching fire, but he didn’t move.

"But I guess things didn't go as planned this time around. But really Michael, you couldn't be more creative than this? You already tried it before, why do you think burning me again will make any difference? You certainly didn’t inherit this lack of creativity from me.”

The bastard seemed genuinely curious. 

Michael found himself scoffing, as he looked away from his fathers gaze and into the back of the hallway.

Molten Freddy’s screams had fully subsided.

“I don’t need to answer you.”

“And why would you say that?”

Michael’s lower lip wobbled as he tried to come up with an answer. He was sweating buckets at this point. The smoke had become so intense that he could only really see the outline of his father anymore, illuminated by the flame.

That was probably why he was able to talk at all.

“Leave.” 

There was no reply for a bit.

“...what did you say?”

Michael gulped, but his words didn’t falter.

“You didn’t hear. Leave. Me. Alone! ”

William was silent for a while. A buzzing in Michael’s ears had started up, accompanying the sound of the fire, making it less than pleasant when his father spoke again.

“So you’ve finally grown some guts, huh? A little late for that don’t you think?”

Michael could feel his body truly burning now. The pain was overwhelming.

“No, I think I’ll stay here. Poetic, don’t you think? Even in final death, we are together. You can never truly escape me, Michael.”

He couldn’t breathe, with whatever remained of his lungs being filled up with gray, hot and burning smoke.

“You must be so happy that this is over? No. Even in the afterlife. Even beyond time and space. You will not escape me. ”

He couldn’t focus on his fathers words anymore. They were nothing but a blur, a whirlpool in his mind where the words were scrambled around, never to be fully arranged again.

Being burned alive does that to one he supposes.

Somehow, that also brought him comfort. Michael was moments from death and his father was speaking, but the pain was strong enough so there was nothing left but ringing in his ears.

He was about to pass out from the smoke. 

His father spoke for the last time.

And he heard him.

" Remember, my son. I always come back. "

And those were the words Michael was left with as the fire consumed both father and son, the world collapsing around them.

Attempt 3. 

Location: Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza Plex.

Fire started: In the basement.

Time: 5:53 am

Arsonist: G. ?????

“I AM NOT ME !”

The memories were flooding to him in backwards order. 

He didn’t know what triggered it. He didn’t understand why. But he couldn’t think clearly enough to be able to come up with an explanation.

There was a fire. No, multiple fires. There was a long period of nothing. He’d had a goal. He’d accomplished the goal.

Then why was he still here? What was he doing here?

There was panic. He’d been hiding for something. He had been helping whatever he was hiding from?

There had been pain. Indescribable pain. He’d lost something very important.

But he’d lost everything even before it.

And then came the people.

Henry.

Elizabeth.

Evan. 

(Oh god why did Gregory have to look so much like Evan.)

And his father.

His father was, once again, standing in front of him. Broken and mangled beyond repair, yet clearly having been put back together with care and precision.

His corroding and dead body was still preserved underneath the suit.

He felt Gregory stiffen at his side. The kid wouldn’t back down from this, he’s shown himself to be capable time and time again, but there was no doubt that he was confused.

The creature in front of them was scarier than the other glamrocks ever were, despite their broken states.

After all, they were built for entertainment.

He doubted that making kids happy was in the forefront of Vanny’s mind when she assembled this animatronic.

Michael remembered him all too quickly.

He’d never been in a state so bad, but despite that, Michael could feel himself freeze up.

“Freddy?” Gregory uttered by his side, “Who is that?”

And what could he even say?

What was there to say?

They’d been here before so many times now. While they were both still alive and both dead.

No matter what, William Afton would always come back.

His father stepped forward. Gregory shuffled closer to Michael, grabbing onto his robotic arm. 

The body of what was once Springbonnie chuckled.

“Finally…”

He flexed his sharp fingers around, seeming pleased with their form. Michael suspected that his father had truly tossed aside all his human elements.

“H-How…?” he stammered. His father looked up at the two of them.

“And who do we have here?” He cooed, “Well, it’s not like it really matters. Neither of you will be leaving this place.”

Gregory’s face grew angry, though the obvious cracks of fear didn’t go unnoticed by Michael.

“Ah,” William let out a sigh, “I forgot that having a physical form could feel so…” he flexed his claws, “...fulfilling.”

“Freddy! We should get out of here!” Gregory raised his voice, but Michael kept still.

But it was the first time he found that he wasn’t frozen in fear.

He wasn’t frozen because his father’s presence scared him. He wasn’t frozen in the same way he was hundreds of times before where he cowered in fear over the thought of what his father would do to him if he was angered.

No. He stood his ground, refusing to move, because the only thing his brain allowed him to feel while looking at what his father had become was white hot anger.

Michael was mad. 

He was furious over the fact that his father was still here, even though everything surrounding him was supposed to be over and done with.

So he didn’t move. He just stared, putting a protective hand in front of Gregory, the kid no doubt growing more befuddled by the second.

William seemed intrigued by that.

“Interesting…” he mused, staying still where he stood, fixing his posture to be at closer eye level with Michael, “An animatronic defending a kid? One might think you aren’t all wires and metal in there, huh?”

Michael had to resist the urge to tackle him to the ground.

“It’s no surprise that you don’t recognize me, father.” he hissed.

William’s expression immediately morphed into one of shock, before he composed himself with a grin.

He chuckled, almost delving into full blown laughter, seeming to be trying to contain himself.

“ Michael? Is that you in there!? ” he laughed, “Oh, how poetic is that! ”

Michael felt Gregory shuffle at his side as the kid started backing away. William didn’t seem to notice, as all his attention had shifted onto Michael.

“How in god's name did you even come back?” He asked, his twitching eyes looking him up and down, “And it seems you’ve joined in the family tradition. How’s that animatronic body suiting you anyway?”

“None of those things concern you.” Michael scoffed, “I won’t let you get out of here.”

His fathers grin quickly turned into a frown.

“Michael. You know you can’t beat me. I thought you were smarter than that.” he shook his head, “I thought you knew that after all this time you spent trying to defeat me, that it’s pointless-”

“Shut up.”

Now, that drew a reaction out of William, his frown deepening into something truly terrifying.

“You really think you’ve grown some guts, huh? Standing up to me? Is that what you are trying to do here Michael?”

He sighed, a hint of amusement lacing his words.

“Come now son, don’t you think you’ve been doing this for long enough?” he started, “One might think you're starting to enjoy this?”

Michael could see red. He knew that his father was just taunting him, and yet he was letting it affect him.

Just like it always did.

But he refused to let him get away with it this time, because looking at William now, something was clearly different. Michael could feel it.

He wasn’t intimidated.

His father had always had an intimidating presence. When he entered the room, you could feel it. Depending on his mood, the air in a room would change.

And it all just became so much worse when he started killing.

The other two times Michael had met his father in his animatronic form, he carried that same aura. One that made it abundantly clear that he had the upper hand even when he was losing.

The aura was gone now.

Maybe it had faded with time. Maybe his father had simply lost that intimidation factor. Maybe it was Michael who had changed.

After all, time had done a number on both of them.

So fuck it, Michael was willing to fight his father right here right now if it meant keeping Gregory out of harms way.

He’d never had anyone to fight for before. Anyone who was still alive anyway. Everything he’d done in life was out of a sense of guilt and belief that he didn’t deserve a happy ending. That it was only right that he, as William Afton’s son, were to be the one to fix all he did wrong.

He did always fail to realize that William himself was the one who instilled those beliefs in him.

So Michael knew with his whole undead being that he would do anything, and he meant anything, if it meant to protect Gregory.

William Afton wasn’t human anymore. He was a true monster. And he seemed to revel in it.

But what he failed to realize was that Michael was never scared of monsters under his bed. He’d been scared of the very real living human man that was his father.

And when all that humanity was stripped away from him, Michael could feel nothing but pity and disgust.

He was nothing but some creature of the night.

“You're not really him. You are so far from being him that you can’t even see it. It almost makes me question why I was scared of you before. You're pathetic. Just look at yourself. ”

“You're just afraid of the truth! The truth that you’ll never be able to stop me!”

And that’s when he noticed it. A metal tendril, lowering itself from the cracked ceiling, aiming straight and slowly towards the creature.

Michael almost smiled as he stood tall, (for the first time, taller than his father,) and cried out,

“ You don’t scare me! After what you’ve become, you could never! ”

The creature recoiled, seeming taken aback, before fury flashed through its features.

“Don’t you see what I am Michael! You could never truly get rid of me! You failed! And I am still here! ”

The tendril lowered, coming even closer to the creature’s form. In his anger, he still didn’t notice.

“You are so far from the god you believe yourself to be that it’s laughable,” Michael spat, “You may think the two of us will be playing this little game forever. You may think that my whole purpose here is to hunt you down and stop you. But you're wrong. Because guess what, dad. I don’t need you anymore. ”

The creature had heard enough. It let out a roaring yell, claws up in the air, ready to strike.

“YOU DARE SPEAK TO ME LIKE THAT! I AM A GOD, YOU HEAR ME! I WILL NEVER-”

And it was at that moment that the tendril struck. It took half a second. It wrapped around the creature in one swift motion, yanking him away.

And for a second, Michael could see who it belonged to.

A ginormous amalgamation made up of countless wires and old animatronic parts. And atop it, eyes burning bright, was the head of Funtime Freddy.

Michael could barely process what he was seeing. Was there someone possessing that thing? It recognized Springtrap, that was for sure. Was there someone they hadn’t been able to free in the fire, now trapped in the husks of the discarded animatronics.

The head turned to look at him. 

It nodded.

And just like that, it ascended into the shadow, still holding onto the furious animatronic, debris falling from the curling with every move it made.

And then they were gone. Leaving with nothing but the clear revelation that if they would stay here any longer the ceiling would collapse on them.

And with the other glamrocks still waiting eagerly to hunt them down, leaving was starting to look all the more appealing.

He turned to look at Gregory, only to find the kid had disappeared.

Immediate panic. 

He looked in all directions in a hurry, not seeing any trace of the kid.

“Gregory!” He called out, “We need to hurry! You’ll die! Please!”

And that’s when he heard it.

A crackling sound coming from the hallway behind him.

Michael recognized that sound.

It was the sound of fire lighting up.

It was how he died. Listening to the fire’s endless roars, as they burned him alive.

“Freddy! Over here!”

Michael whirled around, relief overcoming him as he saw Gregory running down the hall where a growing flame seemed to have started up.

“I lit a fire,” he huffed, “At least Vanny won’t be able to use anything down here ever again!” he looked around for a second before frowning.

“Where is that creepy bunny animatronic?”

“He’s been taken care of. For now at least,” Michael quickly answered, “But listen Gregory, this whole place is coming apart. We need to leave right now!”

“Well, duh!” Gregory exclaimed, “I didn’t start the fire with the intention of staying!”

And by god was it spreading fast. It wasn’t like the previous two times where the buildings were reduced to nothing but rubble, (at least most of it, judging by the fact that Michael was fairly certain that this basement was the remains of his and Henry’s pizzeria) but rather is was spreading all over the floor, making it so that anyone wanting to go through here, animatronic or human, would definitely lose the ability to walk after not too long.

It was perfect to keep Springtrap's remains trapped if it managed to escape the clutches of the amalgamation that dragged him away.

Good. That was very good.

What wasn’t good however, was that the two of them were now mere seconds away from being entrapped there too.

“Let’s go. Now! ”

The kid didn’t need to be told twice as he immediately began bolting towards the exit without so much as looking back. Michael followed immediately after, only being able to keep up with the boy because of his long robotic legs.

He was sure that if he was still human he wouldn’t have had a chance in hell to be able to match up to Gregory’s speed.

Chunks of the ceiling had started collapsing onto the ground. The fire, along with the massively heavy form of the animatronic blob.

It didn’t take long for them to reach the now open entrance. 

Bursting out the door, they were met with an orange sky. It was morning already. Not too far from now would the Pizza Plex open and people find it’s ruined state. 

Michael was about to stop and declare their safety, but Gregory was having none of it.

“We can’t relax yet! We need to get further away!”

And just like that, they ran once again.

Michael recognized this place.

It was almost funny seeing that the Fazbear brand seemed to utterly refuse to leave Hurricane, Utah. Michael wouldn’t be surprised if it was their main brand, business wise.

But it didn’t matter. If there was a place he wanted to go that was close by, yet far and remote enough that no one would look for them, Michael knew where to go.

“Gregory, this way!” He loudly announced, making a quick change in direction. The boy followed.

It wasn’t long until they were there.

The hill was still there. And thank god for that as Michael knew that he would personally hunt down whoever would have the bright idea of destroying it if it was ever gone.

He slowed down, Gregory following his example, and began walking up until he was at the top.

The view was as beautiful as ever, the sun casting light on the small graveyard below.

The tombstones were scattered around. Most of the graves were empty.

Charlotte's grave was right there on the hill. Time hadn’t been too kind to it as it was covered in grass and plant life. 

She would probably have liked that. 

Thankfully, her name “Charlette ‘Charlie’ Emily” and the dates, “May 13th 1970- May 13th  1981” were still there.

“Daughter of mine, May you rest among the angels in heaven.” was written below.

Michael still remembered being young, standing on this hill as he cried over the loss of his friend.

The empty graves of his siblings and the missing children resided in the hills below.

“What is it?” Gregory asked while slowly trying to catch his breath. The kid had been running around all night with next to no break. Michael’s battery may be a major deterrent in his running ability, but it still meant he didn't need to breathe.

He looked up from the grave, meeting the young boy's quizzical eyes.

He readjusted himself, taking a seat close to the grave and patting the ground next to him, signaling for Gregory to join him. He did so quickly.

“Look.” Michael pointed his clunky metal arm towards the sunrise, “We made it through the night.”

Gregory hummed, “Guess we did? Have you ever even seen the sunrise, Freddy?”

Michael nodded.

“It’s been a very long time since but… I have…”

Gregory raised an eyebrow.

“Jeez, no need to be dramatic. The pizza plex hasn't been open for that long.”

“No, this was before the plex was opened…”

“...where were you before the plex then?”

Michael stayed silent for a bit. It was hard to voice, even if he wanted to. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been in the plex as Glamrock Freddy, but now that all his memories had returned, he wasn’t exactly sure how to keep going.

“I’ll tell you one day Gregory.” He said with a smile, “But just not now.”

Gregory pouted. 

“That’s lame. Why won’t you tell me now?”

Michael sighed as his eyes lingered on the rising sun for a second longer before turning to the kid.

“I’m still tryin to make sense of it myself. It all came back to me so suddenly.”

“What do you mean by that?” Gregory asked, “Can you at least give me some hint? Ever since we went into that basement you started acting all cryptic.”

Michael thought it over for a moment. What could he say to Gregory? What information could be provided to the kid that wouldn’t scare him or drive him away.

Gregory didn’t think of him as much more than a robot that had spent its whole lifetime performing on stage. Not as a man that had gone through so many personal hells that he’d lost count of them long ago.

He barely had a reaction when he realized that he was possessing an animatronic. Something he’d been deadly afraid of in his lifetime.

He was scared that he’d turn vengeful and angry like the children. That he’d lose himself like his sister and the funtimes.

That he’d become like his father.

But his head was clear.

Maybe he’d just call it luck. The funtimes had all been built with malicious AI’s that affected how they acted, regardless of if they were possessed or not. The missing children had been isolated for so long that they lost themselves. They had also just been kids.

And his father had been sick from the beginning.

But he’d had none of that. He’d lived in perfect ignorance up until this point, performing like any well behaving robot would.

He hadn’t had to endure the same torture as the others did.

Maybe this had been the universe's way of giving him some moderation of peace?

Well, it didn’t exactly last.

So what was it that he could tell Gregory? He wouldn’t lie to him. For the first time in so long he had someone he genuinely wanted to protect.

Gregory had no one. Michael had no one. It was perfect, really.

He’d never seen himself being one to take care of a kid. He’d never want one in harm's way of course, but he was still terrified. He was so scared that he would somehow end up hurting them.

Like he did Evan.

But leaving Gregory now would hurt him far more than staying would.

“I can assure you that I had a good reason.”

“You started calling that screwed up animatronic dad and going all ‘Oh I don’t need you anymore’ on it and you don’t expect me to ask questions? And who’s Michael?”

“Okay Gregory. I’ll tell you real soon. Just not right now, okay?”

Gregory looked like he wanted to argue, but didn’t. Instead, he just pouted and crossed his arms.

“Vanny is still on the loose though… if freeing that guy was her grand plan don’t you think she’ll come back for him?”

“I’m afraid so…” Michael sighed, “But we can’t do much but hope for the best. At least for now.”

Gregory hummed in agreement

“And when Vanny gets him out of there, do you think he’ll come for us…?” Gregory asked.

“He’ll come back. He always will. But we’ll be ready when he does. I’ve got you here with me now Gregory. And I promise you, I won’t let him hurt you. I failed to protect people in the past. I won’t let it happen again. I don’t care how many times I’ll have to burn him. I won’t stop.”

He looked down towards the graves. Towards all those memories. All the happy moments lost to time.

And then over at Gregory. Alive and so far from having lived his life to the fullest.

Michael couldn’t help but feel a bit hopeful looking at him.

“Not until I know he will never hurt anyone again.”