Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

(Funny animatic link if someone is intrested because I don't think it works in the summary or notes: https://youtu.be/hRIjTXHFTNg)

      "Wow weird," Bonnie said, "Everything turned out okay!"

     It had for that split second. For them at least.

      That's when a sharp ring of an old fashion telephone rang out around the office, making everyone jump and turn toward it.

     The phone broadcasted out a voice, a voice familiar to Mark, Nate, and AJ. " Uh hello? Hello, hello? Oh hey! Congratulations! It looks like you guys managed to survive Five Nights at Freddy's! That's pretty awesome! "

     The trio cast each other confused glances.

     " Uh, unfortunately ," Foxy made one of his pirate noises, uncomfortable at that before a light thud sounded against one of the walls, one peppered with pictures, shaking slightly, " That really wasn't how I uh... expected all this to end ." Another thud.

     I was so close...

      " See I- I ..." The mechanical door, able to conceal the office for a nightguard's safety, slid shut with a bang, a normal lifeline trapping them as Mark clicked the 'open' button several times, all it did was let out a click. " I really thought you'd all turn on each other by now... But you didn't ," Another thud.

     I shouldn't have hesitated...

      " So I guess now I have to drop by the office ," the man on the phone then went silent as an even louder thud sounded against the wall, the distant sound of a chainsaw buzzing behind the drywall and whatever else it was composed of. The quartet of animatronics yelped, more so Freddy and Foxy, and the buzzing gradually grew louder, and so did the thuds. The tangled mess of the Springtrap puppet biting and snarling from its place suspended on the ceiling. AJ took a small step back, closer to the desk.

     Maybe I wouldn't be here now...

      Crack, crack, crack.

     Soon the thuds faded into what sounded like punches and kicks, the buzzing of the chainsaw dying down. A figure wearing what looked like a bloody Freddy Fazbear suit, the chainsaw in hand, emerged from the hole they carved in the wall. " And finish the job!" The voice on the phone slowly faded as the man in the suit took off the head, breathing slightly heavily and with a crazed look in his brown eyes as he revealed himself.

     Mark looked over at Nate and AJ, "Can someone tell me what's going on?"

     "Why this is a crime scene," the man said simply. "And you're the victims..." he finished with a chuckle.

…

     Matt slowly sat up, staring at the wall, finished with the scene that replayed over and over in his head, the near victory he had, whisked by that stupid puppet and blistering flames. He at least got rid of one person off his hit list, actually, AJ wasn't planned, but he was there, dumbly obsessed with working so many hours at that god-forsaken pizzeria. Mark and Nate however, or at least Nathan, was planned, and of course, he had no luck. But that blood was already on his hands, no one bothered to look into all of the past... issues... Now he was here for the rest of his time for both murder and attempted murder on a file, he hadn't even touched the other two so that was stupid, unless you counted kicking a sentient animatronic into a wall.

      Stupid bear… He probably was fine anyway .

     He'd been permitted one phone call after he was healed enough from his burns to be put on trial, then once he was thrown in prison. He called Nate, the guards keeping an eye on him didn't care about the threats he spilled to him, Matt couldn't get out of course, why bother? Nathan just brushed him off, and “put him on hold.” Of course, he never got back to him, probably chucked his phone in the river so he couldn't get a hold of him again.

      I said I'd find him, I'm not letting go of that promise...

     Matt's eyes drifted around the cell, eventually falling on a crack. Something clicked, he didn't know what, but maybe, after what had only been what… six, seven-ish years... he could finally get his chance for revenge.

Chapter Text

(A few days later)

     It was late, Mark was bored, watching the news, unable to fall asleep, and petting the head of Chica, his dog. He hadn't picked the name but it was kind of ironic considering the stupid chicken. He still randomly got phone calls from those four idiots, checking up on him and Nate. What'd they even do now? It was a slow news day. There had been a prison riot or something earlier but everyone was accounted for. He wasn't sure why he was worrying, he was dead. Burned alive in a fire that was sort of his fault, he let Springtrap go, he expected something, having the man that killed someone right in front of him burn alive wasn't quite the plan. Sure him, Nate... and the stupid animatronics... Were safe because of that, but surely that had to have been a painful way to go.

     "I shouldn't feel bad..." Mark muttered. Chica perked her ears, looking up at him and tilting her head slightly. Mark chuckled, petting her head, "It's fine girl, I'm fine." Chica sighed, resting her head back in his lap, tail slowly wagging back and forth.

     "BREAKING NEWS ," Mark jumped, eyes darting to the television, what could best be described as "intense news music" kicking in. " During the prison riot reported at noon today, one felon has been unaccounted for." Mark felt his heart begin to pound in his chest as the mugshot of a man floated next to the female reporter, with brown hair, brown eyes, white skin, and burns, heavy, heavy burns all over his face and neck. Mark was slightly surprised the man still had hair.

     "He's not dead..." Mark whispered, zoning out completely from what the reporter was saying, his eyes locked on the unnervingly familiar face. "Oh dear god he's not dead..." Mark glanced around his room, fumbling for his phone when he noticed that man's "flamethrowing-chainsaw" he managed to get his hands on via two police on the scene, ironically the ones who forgot to lock the police car when he was supposed to go to prison. It was a favor or something, the details were a bit blurry. It's been years after all. But it was gone, how did he not notice it was gone!?

     "Shit... Oh fucking shit ," Mark hissed, quickly flipping through his contacts until landing on Nate's number. "C'mon, c'mon pick up dude pick up..." Mark whispered, Chica licking his hand in an attempt to calm him down.

     "The number you're trying to reach is currently unavailable at this time, at the tone plea-" Mark hung up, calling again.

     "The number you're trying to reach is currently unavailable at this time."

     "The number you're trying to reach is currently unavailable at this time."

     "The number you're trying to reach is currently unavailable at this time."

     "NATHAN PICK UP YOUR GOD DAMN PHONE!!!" Mark snapped. Chica barked in response, seeming to be another attempt to calm him down

      "40 missed calls," Mark voiced, placing a hand on his forehead. Surely he would have picked up by now.

      Unless …

     No, that's crazy. He shouldn't even know where Nate's apartment is! Unless Nate had a landline that connected to his apartment. That could be it…

      Fuuuuck …

     Mark pulled himself out of bed, heading towards the front door, the dinging of Chica's license on her collar signifying she was following behind.

     "I can't believe I'm doing this…" Mark muttered, slipping on a light jacket. Even if it hardly ever got below 70 degrees in LA it was pretty windy at points.

     Chica barked, nudging Mark's hand as he grabbed his car keys.

     Mark sighed, rubbing her head. "I'll be fine girl, I'll be back by morning," he assured the dog.

      She simply sat down, staring at him. Mark frowned slightly, petting her head again.

       I will be back by morning. I'm not going to get myself killed .

      As Mark got in his car he pulled up directions on his phone. He… kind of had a plan. A vague one, but a plan nonetheless. He should call the police. But he should do it once he finds Nate or at least a general idea. Doesn't it have to be 24 hours before you report someone missing or is that made up? Either way, he could be dead by the time they bother to send out someone to look, they didn't believe him with his reasoning behind accidentally pumping the janitor full of lead,(to be fair, he wouldn’t have either) why would they believe him now?

…

     After what felt like an hour's drive he pulled up to a building, the lights were off but he saw faint familiar shapes through the windows.

      They're nocturnal …

     Mark sighed, putting his car in park and locking it before heading into the building.

      This is stupid .

     Mark knocked on the door before he let himself in, the door wasn't locked and it was not like it was a house. Was it a business? What the hell did they do again?

     "Hello?" Mark called out, the building dead quiet. "Anyone here?"

     Nothing. This was stupid.

     "Mark!!!"

     Nevermind.

     A familiar bear popped up over the counter, eyes glowing bright and a happy yet creepy smile on his face.

     "Hey bear…" Mark muttered, shutting the door. "Just you?"

      Freddy chuckled, "Of course not!" He looked over his shoulder and called out, "Hey everybody! Mark's here!"

      What did I expect?

      "Mark!" Chica, the chicken, and Bonnie chirped in unison, the sound of Foxy harmonizing with them. They all then popped up next to Freddy.

     "Hi…"

     Chica glanced around. "Is um… Nate with you?" She asked.

     Mark sighed, rubbing the back of his head, "No… you see… that's why I'm here… This is a dumb question but… do you guys… watch the news at all?"

     Freddy looked at Bonnie, Chica, then Foxy, before shaking his head, "Not recently, why?"

     "Well-"

     Bonnie cut him off, "Oh you mean that guy that nearly killed us all, and who was supposed to be dead, and who broke out of prison and now no one knows where he is? Is that what you mean to tell us?"

      " WHAT !?" Freddy and Chica screeched, Foxy once again syncing in with his pirate noises as they all whipped around to face him.

     "Yeah… That's what I was going for…" Mark muttered. "And well I came here for help, Nate isn't picking up any of my calls and I'm worried because of that exact reason."

     Foxy responded with his pirate sounds, the other three nodding in agreement.

       How do they understand him??

     "Yeah!" Chica chirped, "How are we supposed to help?"

      Mark hummed, "Well… One of you has to have some sort of idea! I have no idea where to start!"

      The quartet all turned to face each other and began whispering, making Mark narrow his eyes in confusion.

     Bonnie cleared his throat, "Okay so funny story, apparently they built some sort of warehouse over where the pizzeria used to be and it was abandoned as soon as it was finished, maybe we should look there!"

     Mark hummed, "Maybe… seems like the most logical place and- wait do you know these things?"

     "Yeah!" Freddy agreed.

     Bonnie shrugged, "Meh, I got a lot of free time."

     Mark sighed. "Alright then… Well, who's up for an attempted rescue mission?" Mark asked with heavily faked enthusiasm.

     "Yeah!" Bonnie cheered, "Rescue mission!"

      This is such a stupid idea .

     Mark led the way to his car, Bonnie chanting some stupid rescue tune as they walked.

     "Shut up before I run you over with my car!" Mark hissed.

     "Sorry," Bonnie murmured.

     "Alright get in, don't break anything," Mark muttered, opening the back door on the driver's side. Once they were all in, Mark hopped in the driver's seat, started up his car, and in one last attempt, called Nate's number, unsurprisingly, no response.

     "Do you think he'll be alright Mark?" Chica asked.

     "I don't know, who knows how long it's been, our only hope is because we know he loves taunting and drawing things out," Mark said, "though we might end up losing someone again tonight."

Chapter Text

(about an hour prior)

     Nate was humming to himself, jotting down song lyrics as they just came to him, he had the basic gist down on what he wanted it to be but he was struggling with some bits and pieces. He currently had the news on as background noise, it helped him think. Currently, it was about a heatwave next week, which they'd been talking about for the past month, it said it was this week last week. They probably just needed more hours or something. He didn't know how reporter jobs worked.

     Nate jumped in response as more intense music on the TV kicked it, the screen going red with weird blocks and stuff, 'breaking news' written in bold. Something about an update on the prison riot, that's the only interesting thing that's happened all day. Nate just shrugged it off until he caught a glimpse of the mugshot on the screen, he never really got the guy's name from that night, Matthew Afton. The thing that concerned him, however, was why his face was on the screen. He was loose. Nate had laughed off the man's threats when he was safely behind bars but now, he regretted blowing him off and chucking his old phone in the fountain, he just pushed it back.

     " But the good news is… they told me I could make one phone call ," his words over the phone echoed in his head, " So, you know, I figured I'd give you one last ring. For old times' sake. To remind you… There's nowhere you can go that I won't find you. There's no place you can hide that I won't kill you. And I'll think about it every night until I get out of here. And when I do -" That's when he cut him off. Maybe he should have changed apartments as well now that he thought about it. He had a landline in his apartment or one of those old but at the same time sort of newer plug-in phones. Either way, the man knew where he lived. He shouldn't have been so cocky about it. WHY DID THIS JUST OCCUR TO HIM NOW!?

     "I need to leave, I need to fucking leave!" Nate told himself reaching for his phone he didn't know he set down.

     "Took you long enough Mr… mmm… what was it… WantsToBattle?" a voice said right next to the closet by the door to exit his apartment. "You really need better reaction time. And both you and Mark really should know how to lock your doors…"

     Nate shrieked in alarm, pushing himself away, and ended up falling off his bed. He was wearing that stupid Freddy Fazbear suit, now tattered even more than it was before, holes loosely closed up with string and covered in soot, it should have been trashed by now, and how it was in one piece still was a mystery. Same mystery that was probably the reason this man was still alive.

    "GET AWAY FROM ME!!!" Nate snapped, having pushed himself up against the wall.

     "Mmm… how about no?" He said, a smile slowly growing on his face as he grew closer. Nate scrambled to his feet and ran over to the kitchen, slamming the door behind him, propping up several chairs against the door.

     "Nathan~ that won't work for long~" the man taunted, rattling the door knob.

      I gotta call somebody or at least do SOMETHING. Nate reached into his pocket before he realized he left it behind as he heard his ringtone going off. Shit .

     "Someone wants to speak to you~ They're probably soooo worried Nate."

     "FUCK OFF!!!" Nate snapped, digging through cabinets. He had to have a knife somewhere. Or he could bash him on the head with a pan, that might not be a very effective thought. Whatever! It's something !!!

     "C'mon Nate, it's no fun if you're being a coward~"

      Nate grabbed one of the serrated knives from the knife block, of course, that's where the knives were. Serrated would be better right? Or did it not matter?

      It's a knife, Nathan! That doesn’t matter!

     The man then started bashing on the door, "Alright, we're doing this the hard way then…" he hissed.

     He didn’t have his chainsaw with him, Mark had it. he'd be fine for now.

      Unless … he mentioned both he and Mark need to lock their door… he probably has it back, fuck .

     Nate held the knife to his chest, pointing the blade towards the door. There was a window but he was on one of the highest floors of the apartment building, though maybe falling to his death would be more peaceful than whatever this psycho had in store for him.

     He'd just stab him and run, hopefully not forgetting his phone this time.

     It wasn’t a solid plan, but all he knew was he had to get out of here!

     After what had felt like an hour the door finally gave way. The man chuckled, "Have you just been sitting here with that the whole time? You might as well have just let me in."

     Nate tightened his grip on the blade's handle, the image of what he'd do clear in his head. Run, stab him, run, grab his phone, and get the fuck out of the apartment. Either way, surely someone would notice who the man was unless it was too late for anyone to be awake normally. Nate inhaled and took a deep breath and bolted.

      It didn't work! Why did I think it would work!?

     "Really now, that was the best plan you had?" The man asked, that stupid taunting tone still in his voice. He had grabbed Nate's shirt before he even landed a hit, now he was pinned to the ground, a hand over his mouth and holding his wrists together.

     Nate grunted, squirming against the man's grip.

     He sighed. "Now... What am I going to do with you? Hm?" he asked, singsonging his words. He then smirked, "How about let us see how long it takes for your friends to find you before I decide I've had my fun. Oh ho ho! You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this!"

     The man then pulled him back slightly reaching for something in one of the cabinets before hauling Nate to his feet. Briefly letting him go. He didn’t give him much of a chance to react before the sound of metal colliding with something echoed around the room.

      Oh …

     It hadn’t hit him what happened until he felt himself lean back slightly before falling to the floor and everything went dark.

Chapter Text

     "You know, it's kind of funny, I don’t think they have any idea where you are right now unless they're all stupid. Who knows, that might be the case." Matt said, rambling to Nate's unconscious body. Honestly, he was just bored, sure, he could kill him here and now, but that wouldn’t be any fun . It was all a game, besides he'd hardly given them a fair chance.

     Matt didn’t know what the warehouse would have been used for. Cars, machines, packing, nothing was a dead giveaway. It was fairly humid and was just filled with decaying cardboard boxes, tipped-over scaffolding, and a few dim, flickering, fluorescent lights. Other wires hung from the ceiling where more lights might have gone. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust and cobwebs. Maybe… something scared the workers off, who knows. Random patches of the familiar charred, checkered flooring were in patches, likely in an attempt to save some money and salvage what little remained of the pizzeria, maybe there were a few bits of the old walls left now that he was looking. Though it might have been cheaper in the long run to just scrap it all, it'd be bound to give out on someone one day. But no one would know for sure now.

     Nate stirred a bit, a small groan escaping past the duct tape plastered over his mouth. He didn't want him screaming too loud after all.

     "Ah, about time! I was starting to worry I killed you already," Matt told him with a pout. Nate slowly raised his head, eyes shooting open and followed by a noise of alarm when they met Matt's. "Did you have a nice nap?" Matt questioned. Nate didn't acknowledge him, glancing back and forth, seeming to try and piece together where they were as he struggled against his bonds. "Oh calm down Nathan, I haven't even started anything… yet . Don't worry we'll have some fun eventually."

     Nate shook his head fearfully, letting out incoherent noises and pressing his back against the metal folding chair.

     "Shut up before I bash you on the head again," Matt hissed, narrowing his eyes. Nate fell silent, looking down and averting his eyes.

     "Now then… I'm sure you remember why you're here don't you, didn't think I'd get out of that place huh?" Matt questioned, walking behind Nate, then running a hand through his hair before yanking his head back to meet his eyes. "Never thought you'd have to worry about me again huh?" Matt sneered.

     He found it amusing, watching Nate's eyes flick anxiously across his face, feeling his panicked breathing, perhaps it could even be described as cute to him in a sick and twisted way.

     "Thought all my threats were just empty and hollow, hm?" Matt slowly moved a hand to Nate's neck, hearing him make a noise of alarm and Matt was now able to feel his heartbeat hammering in his throat, eyes darting towards his hand.

     "You wish …" Matt released Nate from his hands before shoving his head down. "Now how about we play a little game? Let's see how long it takes for someone to find you, how does that sound? And if it takes them… hmm… let's see, more than two hours…" he paused for a moment waiting to make sure Nate had his eyes on him before drawing a line across his throat. "I'd say that's fair wouldn't you?"

     Nate violently shook his head, making Matt chuckle. "Well, you don't really get much of a choice now do you buddy?" He mentioned, bopping him on the nose. "Now then I'll be right back," Matt's voice dropped, narrowing his eyes, "you try anything and I mean anything the two-hour timer is void, you got that Nathan?"

     Nate nodded, Matt noticing his breathing becoming heavier. Good, that'll keep him in line . Matt ruffled his hair, Nate grunting a bit before Matt walked off.